Monday, June 30, 2008
OCD-Bombing
I'm coining a new phrase. It's "OCD-bombing" and it means to trigger someone else's OCD. For example, let's say I went to the gym on Saturday and saw two young boys obviously playing some kind of game -- they had to open the door from well outside the doormat (leverage is difficult that way - I opened the door for them), and then take giant steps across part of the gym floor. I didn't know exactly what they were doing until they pointed out with glee to their parents that they were "on the black squares!" "Oh God," I thought, "I'm on the black square!" And that thought was quickly followed by "Damnit, those kids OCD-bombed me!"
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Fist full of dollars (well, green anyway) and "I'm blogging this" part 2
Well, just in the last few days Zadie has become VERY interested in getting things in her hands. Tonight at dinner she reached for my plate for the first time. Because she hadn't done it before, it took me unawares, and she got a fist full of guacamole before any of us (including her, I think) expected it.
When paying the bill, Sweetie was holding her. It was hard for him to sign, so he asked me to do the tip (like he would, he insisted, not like I would -- he thinks I'm cheap because I do the actual math and figure out 20% and then round up to the nearest whatever), then sign it with his name. I did the tip and by the time I got to the signature I forgot what I was doing and signed my own name. Whoops. He made fun of my short term memory and then said "If I was still blogging, now is when I would say 'I'm blogging this!'"
When paying the bill, Sweetie was holding her. It was hard for him to sign, so he asked me to do the tip (like he would, he insisted, not like I would -- he thinks I'm cheap because I do the actual math and figure out 20% and then round up to the nearest whatever), then sign it with his name. I did the tip and by the time I got to the signature I forgot what I was doing and signed my own name. Whoops. He made fun of my short term memory and then said "If I was still blogging, now is when I would say 'I'm blogging this!'"
Jeff the arrhythmic drummer brings out my inner bitch, an anniversary
I got to go to band practice the other night after getting them to accept that I was leaving RIGHT AT 8 or my boobs would explode and my baby starve.
When we start playing, Jeff tells me that he's gotten better. They've practiced a couple times without me, and he's sounding really good. You know what the trick was? The motorcycle boots he's wearing. Yeah, they lift his heels a bit, so his legs don't get so tired. I say (because I have no filter) "Did they teach you to count, too?"
Later, I had written a bit of a new song and we wanted to try it. Jeff protests "No, I can't do a new song. I wanna rock, you guys. Let's play Locomotive Lung." (I may have made that up, but he's REALLY bad at song titles.)
We say it'll be fast, just give us a 4/4 beat. We won't spend a lot of time on it.
He says no, he wants to play Freedom Rock (ostensibly one of our songs, but the title is wrong).
I am showing the guitarists the chords, and they are picking it up, not strumming every beat, but practicing the changes. All the while, Jeff is protesting. My uncle tries to talk sense to him, but finally I say "Okay, Jeff. Let's play Freedom Rock. You start." I turn to the other guys and mouth "Let's do the new one."
We play the whole thing, with me occasionally shouting "Okay, the next time up it's C, A, G, G, E." It goes okay for a first time trying a new song. When we are done, Jeff says "Man, I don't know. That songs sounds different every time we do it."
Then my uncle explains that we "tricked" him, and he did it. It was very encouraging. "Yay for you! You didn't think you could do a new song, but you did! You're getting to be a better drummer all the time!" This was followed by some scuffing of shoes and some "Aw shucks." That guy is an idiot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I would just like to say that today is an anniversary of something that changed my life, even though I didn't know it at the time. I'm being cagey, I know, but do some math -- the baby is three months old. One year ago today Sweetie went in to work late. And a miracle happened.
When we start playing, Jeff tells me that he's gotten better. They've practiced a couple times without me, and he's sounding really good. You know what the trick was? The motorcycle boots he's wearing. Yeah, they lift his heels a bit, so his legs don't get so tired. I say (because I have no filter) "Did they teach you to count, too?"
Later, I had written a bit of a new song and we wanted to try it. Jeff protests "No, I can't do a new song. I wanna rock, you guys. Let's play Locomotive Lung." (I may have made that up, but he's REALLY bad at song titles.)
We say it'll be fast, just give us a 4/4 beat. We won't spend a lot of time on it.
He says no, he wants to play Freedom Rock (ostensibly one of our songs, but the title is wrong).
I am showing the guitarists the chords, and they are picking it up, not strumming every beat, but practicing the changes. All the while, Jeff is protesting. My uncle tries to talk sense to him, but finally I say "Okay, Jeff. Let's play Freedom Rock. You start." I turn to the other guys and mouth "Let's do the new one."
We play the whole thing, with me occasionally shouting "Okay, the next time up it's C, A, G, G, E." It goes okay for a first time trying a new song. When we are done, Jeff says "Man, I don't know. That songs sounds different every time we do it."
Then my uncle explains that we "tricked" him, and he did it. It was very encouraging. "Yay for you! You didn't think you could do a new song, but you did! You're getting to be a better drummer all the time!" This was followed by some scuffing of shoes and some "Aw shucks." That guy is an idiot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I would just like to say that today is an anniversary of something that changed my life, even though I didn't know it at the time. I'm being cagey, I know, but do some math -- the baby is three months old. One year ago today Sweetie went in to work late. And a miracle happened.
Friday, June 27, 2008
That's right....
I bought her a Hello Kitty hat.
She learned a new trick today -- I was standing her on my chest and she grabbed a hank of hair in each fist and then laughed her ass off.
We went to Vacaville and Berkeley today with Aunt Monkeygirl and MQL, and she was so good all day, being patient and quiet in the car and everything! It was nice to get out of the smoke (in case you're not a Californian, the whole damn state is essentially on fire, and my valley is filled with smoke).
That's it -- just chillin' like a villain with the baby crawling around and squealing on my torso. It's fun.
She learned a new trick today -- I was standing her on my chest and she grabbed a hank of hair in each fist and then laughed her ass off.
We went to Vacaville and Berkeley today with Aunt Monkeygirl and MQL, and she was so good all day, being patient and quiet in the car and everything! It was nice to get out of the smoke (in case you're not a Californian, the whole damn state is essentially on fire, and my valley is filled with smoke).
That's it -- just chillin' like a villain with the baby crawling around and squealing on my torso. It's fun.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Really into Grand Theft Auto, Ed Begley Junior
I bought Sweetie an Xbox 360 for Father's Day with the new Grand Theft Auto game. He's been playing it quite a bit. When something is especially exciting, he often stands up in front of the TV to play. Tonight he was being chased by the cops and a helicopter was following him. He started to break into a truck as shots were fired. I was watching the screen, so it took me by surprise when I heard a loud "thud" and looked over to see my husband no longer standing.
"Are you okay?" I asked. He didn't immediately answer, so I put the baby down and went to help him. Just then, he stood up, rubbing his elbow. "What happened?" I asked.
"I was trying to sit down."
"And you forgot where the chair was?"
"The cops were after me!"
I wasn't even done laughing before I announced "I'm blogging this!" He looked resigned.
He just looked at me as I was typing and I started laughing again, without either of us having to say what I was doing. "It's not funny!" he said. "My elbows hurt. And my ass hurts." I'm not ashamed to admit that tears are running down my face.
Anyway, I've been in the living room a lot while he plays, and I'm totally addicted to this song that's on the Russian radio station called Schweine by Glukoza. That's right -- I looked it up. I even bought it on iTunes.
And now for something completely different.
I've had occasion to talk about the actual Ed Begley Junior a couple times recently, because I've been watching "Living with Ed" on Planet Green. But I sometimes confuse Mom, who thinks I'm talking about the neighbor, whom I've also had occasion to talk about lately. The more I see the real Ed Begley Junior, though, the more I realize my neighbor doesn't really look like him at all. In fact, I think he's quite a bit better-looking. Incidentally, speaking of Sweetie, he said "He's not that good-looking." I still like The Neighbor Who Isn't Ed Begley as a special commenter nickname, though, so if I stop referring to Neighbor Tom as Ed Begley Junior, what will happen to The Neighbor Who Isn't Ed Begley? It's confusing.
"Are you okay?" I asked. He didn't immediately answer, so I put the baby down and went to help him. Just then, he stood up, rubbing his elbow. "What happened?" I asked.
"I was trying to sit down."
"And you forgot where the chair was?"
"The cops were after me!"
I wasn't even done laughing before I announced "I'm blogging this!" He looked resigned.
He just looked at me as I was typing and I started laughing again, without either of us having to say what I was doing. "It's not funny!" he said. "My elbows hurt. And my ass hurts." I'm not ashamed to admit that tears are running down my face.
Anyway, I've been in the living room a lot while he plays, and I'm totally addicted to this song that's on the Russian radio station called Schweine by Glukoza. That's right -- I looked it up. I even bought it on iTunes.
And now for something completely different.
I've had occasion to talk about the actual Ed Begley Junior a couple times recently, because I've been watching "Living with Ed" on Planet Green. But I sometimes confuse Mom, who thinks I'm talking about the neighbor, whom I've also had occasion to talk about lately. The more I see the real Ed Begley Junior, though, the more I realize my neighbor doesn't really look like him at all. In fact, I think he's quite a bit better-looking. Incidentally, speaking of Sweetie, he said "He's not that good-looking." I still like The Neighbor Who Isn't Ed Begley as a special commenter nickname, though, so if I stop referring to Neighbor Tom as Ed Begley Junior, what will happen to The Neighbor Who Isn't Ed Begley? It's confusing.
Baby update
Well, she's 13 weeks old today, and officially three months old tomorrow. She definitely appears to be gaining more weight -- her cheeks and thighs are looking chubbier.
She vocalizes a lot, sometimes surprisingly loudly, and it often rises and falls in tone, like she's having a real conversation.
She is insane in the membrane for her vibro-chair, with its blinking lights, swinging parrot and monkey, and rainforest noises. She sits in it and flails her arms and kicks her legs and goes "Whoo-ah! Ooh!" She also really reaches for the monkey and parrot, whereas before she would just look at them.
She "helps" when I change her diaper by lifting her legs.
She gnaws on her fists and can always get them up to her mouth now. She can also grab the fabric of whatever she's wearing to pull her dress up. That's my girl.
She watches TV. I'm not proud of this, but if it's on and she can crane her neck around to see it, she's enraptured. She goes into TV coma.
We took her to a Babysigns class on Sunday. As soon as she caught on, she signed "Don't put me in that fucking car seat!"* I've been doing the signs for her, and she really watches me intently. Last night I went through about 12 nursery rhymes and did the signs (for moon, stars, turtle, bunny, hat, etc.) and she watched me the whole time. Even though there was a ceiling fan to look at, and she loves those... I've taught Sweetie a few signs and he's using them, although he seems to think it's a little silly (for example, when I showed him the sign for "Daddy," he asked "Why am I the chicken head?"**
Her sleeping pattern has changed for the worse. She used to sleep from 10 to 4, then wake up and nurse and doze until 6. Now she sleeps from 10 to 3:30 and wakes up and nurses while kicking me, flailing her arms, pushing against me, and popping on and off the boob. I can't sleep through that.
Anyway, that's all for new tricks. She's adorable and amazing and wonderful, and thank god for afternoon naps!
*Joke courtesy of Boompah.
Her sleeping pattern has changed for the worse.
**
She vocalizes a lot, sometimes surprisingly loudly, and it often rises and falls in tone, like she's having a real conversation.
She is insane in the membrane for her vibro-chair, with its blinking lights, swinging parrot and monkey, and rainforest noises. She sits in it and flails her arms and kicks her legs and goes "Whoo-ah! Ooh!" She also really reaches for the monkey and parrot, whereas before she would just look at them.
She "helps" when I change her diaper by lifting her legs.
She gnaws on her fists and can always get them up to her mouth now. She can also grab the fabric of whatever she's wearing to pull her dress up. That's my girl.
She watches TV. I'm not proud of this, but if it's on and she can crane her neck around to see it, she's enraptured. She goes into TV coma.
We took her to a Babysigns class on Sunday. As soon as she caught on, she signed "Don't put me in that fucking car seat!"* I've been doing the signs for her, and she really watches me intently. Last night I went through about 12 nursery rhymes and did the signs (for moon, stars, turtle, bunny, hat, etc.) and she watched me the whole time. Even though there was a ceiling fan to look at, and she loves those... I've taught Sweetie a few signs and he's using them, although he seems to think it's a little silly (for example, when I showed him the sign for "Daddy," he asked "Why am I the chicken head?"**
Her sleeping pattern has changed for the worse. She used to sleep from 10 to 4, then wake up and nurse and doze until 6. Now she sleeps from 10 to 3:30 and wakes up and nurses while kicking me, flailing her arms, pushing against me, and popping on and off the boob. I can't sleep through that.
Anyway, that's all for new tricks. She's adorable and amazing and wonderful, and thank god for afternoon naps!
*Joke courtesy of Boompah.
Her sleeping pattern has changed for the worse.
**
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Moochers and attempted moochers.
I went to a picnic at a park in Napa yesterday. It was for members of my internet forum, and we had a good time. It was nice to meet in person the people I hadn't met and to see again those I had. But there were two things I thought you, readers, might find of interest.
First, apparently you can spend $220 to reserve a spot with mucho tables and barbecues, and the city parks dept. will put up a sign saying it's all yours that day. Or you can show up early and camp out at any spot without a sign. The picnic's organizer had gone to parks & rec and asked if the spot she wanted was reserved. It wasn't, so she went with the "show up early and camp out" method. Well, right after I got there, there was an absolute parade of developmentally delayed adults asking if this was their barbecue. We said no, and that we thought it was "over there." Over there was a couple tables with people gathering around. After about twenty minutes, two women came over and more or less accused the organizer of poaching their spot, and asking whether there had been a reserved sign. After much discussion, we decided to split the spot with them. So in the same ring of picnic tables was a group of punk-rock parents and a group of developmentally delayed adults. Members of the other group kept wandering over and looking at our watermelon and cupcakes, because, well, it's apparently rather difficult to get across the idea that our barbecue is over here, and theirs is over there. But at least they had an excuse...
A family came to the park with two little kids, sat a ways away from us, and then more or less set the children free to play with our squirt guns, croquet mallets, spray bottles, and chalk, and eat our food. The kids were not in their line of sight most of the time. Now, I recognize that ours was obviously a family gathering and we appeared to be taking good care of our own children, but isn't it kind of weird to just entrust your kids to a random group of strangers? If the kids had been better-behaved, it mightn't have bothered me so much, but they were wielding the mallets like weapons and stuff, too, and pulling the plugs out of the squirt guns. We kept shooing them off and they kept coming back (I had the feeling that their people were shooing them away, too).
First, apparently you can spend $220 to reserve a spot with mucho tables and barbecues, and the city parks dept. will put up a sign saying it's all yours that day. Or you can show up early and camp out at any spot without a sign. The picnic's organizer had gone to parks & rec and asked if the spot she wanted was reserved. It wasn't, so she went with the "show up early and camp out" method. Well, right after I got there, there was an absolute parade of developmentally delayed adults asking if this was their barbecue. We said no, and that we thought it was "over there." Over there was a couple tables with people gathering around. After about twenty minutes, two women came over and more or less accused the organizer of poaching their spot, and asking whether there had been a reserved sign. After much discussion, we decided to split the spot with them. So in the same ring of picnic tables was a group of punk-rock parents and a group of developmentally delayed adults. Members of the other group kept wandering over and looking at our watermelon and cupcakes, because, well, it's apparently rather difficult to get across the idea that our barbecue is over here, and theirs is over there. But at least they had an excuse...
A family came to the park with two little kids, sat a ways away from us, and then more or less set the children free to play with our squirt guns, croquet mallets, spray bottles, and chalk, and eat our food. The kids were not in their line of sight most of the time. Now, I recognize that ours was obviously a family gathering and we appeared to be taking good care of our own children, but isn't it kind of weird to just entrust your kids to a random group of strangers? If the kids had been better-behaved, it mightn't have bothered me so much, but they were wielding the mallets like weapons and stuff, too, and pulling the plugs out of the squirt guns. We kept shooing them off and they kept coming back (I had the feeling that their people were shooing them away, too).
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Birth story (with perspective)
My blog friend Alex is hosting a carnival of birth stories. I thought about just skipping it, since my birth story was told in full (and then some) just a few months ago. But I think now that some time has passed, I might be able to edit a little.
On Saturday evening I was starting to feel a little labor-y. I just had a feeling. I was already overdue by two days, and I was ready to have the baby, so I wasn't at all surprised that night when my water broke. I waited a few hours just to make sure it was what I thought it was, then I called the hospital. They said to come in, so I woke up Sweetie and said "We're going to have to go to the hospital. Would you toast me a bagel?" It took a minute to make myself clear on that point (it was early and he was groggy), but we got it together. We also called my mom and she came over to take us to the hospital...
...Where we were fairly promptly turned away. The midwife didn't detect any fluid and an ultrasound showed, she thought, that I still had plenty of fluid, so she sent me home. I slept for a while longer, then I got up. It was Easter, and we didn't have plans because we had expected to have a new baby. Instead, Mom and I went to a movie, then Cafe Bernardo. Someone asked me how far along I was and I said "three days overdue, actually."
In the middle of the night that night, almost the same thing happened. I lost more fluid at the exact same time. But, I thought, if they turned me away before it must not be that important, so I didn't call. I had an appointment at the clinic that afternoon anyway.
That day I did a few things around the house, watched part of an episode of Deadwood, then Mom came to take me to the appointment. Her reasoning was "What if he tells you to go straight to the hospital? You don't want to drive yourself in labor!" Well, as it happened, that's exactly how it went down. I had ruptured my amniotic sac 38 hours before, and I had to go straight to the hospital. Well, almost straight -- we stopped at Mom's house and home to pick up a few things.
Once we got there, it was clear they were in a hurry to get me to give birth. Because of the situation, I was given something to eat and then immediately put on Pitocin, which worked in a hurry to bring on contractions. And, yo, that hurt! I was sure I was going to give birth without pain meds, but that changed at about centimeter 4.
After the epidural, I was able to talk again until about centimeter 9, when either it wore off or they turned it down or something. Then it got intense. I was fairly focused on making it through the contractions, so I wasn't entirely clear on what was going on. What happened was that my midwife came back in, checked me, suggested I try pushing during the next contraction and then left the room, saying she'd be back in half an hour. I had a contraction, I pushed, and then all hell broke loose.
Ola, the midwife, ran back in. She said "Okay, we need to have this baby NOW." She guided me through the pushing, really yelling at me to push, push harder, keep going, don't breathe... And the baby came out all in one powerful swoop. They laid her on my chest, toweled her off, and I said "Oh my god, you're my baby!"
That's the birth story. The after part is where she turns blue and they whisk her away to the special care nursery and we can't hold her and she's hooked up to tubes and wires, but then the after part of that is where we get to hold her and they unhook some of the stuff, and Sweetie holds her for seven hours, and then there's more after, where we finally get to take her home and I think the sunlight looks weird. And of course there's the after of right now, where she's contentedly nursing while I type. Thank goodness for afters.
On Saturday evening I was starting to feel a little labor-y. I just had a feeling. I was already overdue by two days, and I was ready to have the baby, so I wasn't at all surprised that night when my water broke. I waited a few hours just to make sure it was what I thought it was, then I called the hospital. They said to come in, so I woke up Sweetie and said "We're going to have to go to the hospital. Would you toast me a bagel?" It took a minute to make myself clear on that point (it was early and he was groggy), but we got it together. We also called my mom and she came over to take us to the hospital...
...Where we were fairly promptly turned away. The midwife didn't detect any fluid and an ultrasound showed, she thought, that I still had plenty of fluid, so she sent me home. I slept for a while longer, then I got up. It was Easter, and we didn't have plans because we had expected to have a new baby. Instead, Mom and I went to a movie, then Cafe Bernardo. Someone asked me how far along I was and I said "three days overdue, actually."
In the middle of the night that night, almost the same thing happened. I lost more fluid at the exact same time. But, I thought, if they turned me away before it must not be that important, so I didn't call. I had an appointment at the clinic that afternoon anyway.
That day I did a few things around the house, watched part of an episode of Deadwood, then Mom came to take me to the appointment. Her reasoning was "What if he tells you to go straight to the hospital? You don't want to drive yourself in labor!" Well, as it happened, that's exactly how it went down. I had ruptured my amniotic sac 38 hours before, and I had to go straight to the hospital. Well, almost straight -- we stopped at Mom's house and home to pick up a few things.
Once we got there, it was clear they were in a hurry to get me to give birth. Because of the situation, I was given something to eat and then immediately put on Pitocin, which worked in a hurry to bring on contractions. And, yo, that hurt! I was sure I was going to give birth without pain meds, but that changed at about centimeter 4.
After the epidural, I was able to talk again until about centimeter 9, when either it wore off or they turned it down or something. Then it got intense. I was fairly focused on making it through the contractions, so I wasn't entirely clear on what was going on. What happened was that my midwife came back in, checked me, suggested I try pushing during the next contraction and then left the room, saying she'd be back in half an hour. I had a contraction, I pushed, and then all hell broke loose.
Ola, the midwife, ran back in. She said "Okay, we need to have this baby NOW." She guided me through the pushing, really yelling at me to push, push harder, keep going, don't breathe... And the baby came out all in one powerful swoop. They laid her on my chest, toweled her off, and I said "Oh my god, you're my baby!"
That's the birth story. The after part is where she turns blue and they whisk her away to the special care nursery and we can't hold her and she's hooked up to tubes and wires, but then the after part of that is where we get to hold her and they unhook some of the stuff, and Sweetie holds her for seven hours, and then there's more after, where we finally get to take her home and I think the sunlight looks weird. And of course there's the after of right now, where she's contentedly nursing while I type. Thank goodness for afters.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
A post with no baby in it!
I was just at the deli and a woman ordered a half-egg, half-tuna sandwich. I think you should be able to order that by asking for a "Mayo bomb." (Have I mentioned that mayonnaise grosses me out?)
The original "I Kissed a Girl" by Jill Sobule
New song by Katy Perry, also called "I Kissed a Girl." Ripoff?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAp9BKosZXs
The SFGate web site has a beautiful collection of photos from the first and second days of official gay marriages, mostly in S.F. Check them out: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/object/gallery?o=0&f=/g/a/2008/06/09/samesexmarriage3.DTL&type=samesexmarriage
And thirdly on the gays, one of the arguments against gay marriage, one that I hear over and over quoted in the paper, is that it's against god's law. I'd like to refer these good folks to the 1st amendment to the Constitution:
Isn't that genius? That means, basically, that U.S. law isn't gonna be based on religion, 'cause we're not saying "this here's the official religion of the country." And nobody's saying you have to go get gay married, because that would prohibit the free exercise of your religion. Your church doesn't have to do a blasted thing if it doesn't want to, including marrying gay folks. But the state is going to, because they're not ruled by religion. It's clear, it's effective, it's succinct. No stop protesting and go practice that whole "Love thy neighbor" bit.
I am chunky, but I know I am still working on it. However, having discovered that brownies don't include milk, "working on it" may have to include keeping my fat ass out of the brownie Ziploc.
All for now. Back to your regularly scheduled baby programming next time.
The original "I Kissed a Girl" by Jill Sobule
New song by Katy Perry, also called "I Kissed a Girl." Ripoff?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAp9BKosZXs
The SFGate web site has a beautiful collection of photos from the first and second days of official gay marriages, mostly in S.F. Check them out: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/object/gallery?o=0&f=/g/a/2008/06/09/samesexmarriage3.DTL&type=samesexmarriage
And thirdly on the gays, one of the arguments against gay marriage, one that I hear over and over quoted in the paper, is that it's against god's law. I'd like to refer these good folks to the 1st amendment to the Constitution:
Amendment I
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
Isn't that genius? That means, basically, that U.S. law isn't gonna be based on religion, 'cause we're not saying "this here's the official religion of the country." And nobody's saying you have to go get gay married, because that would prohibit the free exercise of your religion. Your church doesn't have to do a blasted thing if it doesn't want to, including marrying gay folks. But the state is going to, because they're not ruled by religion. It's clear, it's effective, it's succinct. No stop protesting and go practice that whole "Love thy neighbor" bit.
I am chunky, but I know I am still working on it. However, having discovered that brownies don't include milk, "working on it" may have to include keeping my fat ass out of the brownie Ziploc.
All for now. Back to your regularly scheduled baby programming next time.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Chunkalunk!
For everyone who's wondering, she gained a whopping 11 oz. On average she's still small, but that's a huge gain, so I'm happy. We did get her meds for reflux, but if the first dose is any indication, she may spit them all up...
Oh... BUMBO
We had this conversation last night:
Me: Did you see the new picture I put up of her in her pink thing?
Sweetie: Pink thing? I don't think so. What pink thing?
Me: You know, her chair. Her... Bumpy chair?
Sweetie: Rumpy chair? Rumpy pumpy?
Me: Boompah chair?
Sweetie: Bumble?
Me: Oom-pah-pah?
Sweetie: Rumplestiltskin?
Me: Rumblefish?
Sweetie: Rooty-toot-toot?
Me: Rihanna?
Okay, it may not have gone on quite that long.
We have a doctor's appointment this morning, and as Sweetie put it, there are two choices: she's either gained weight, which is good, or she hasn't, so she gets medication, which is good. Wish us luck, though.
Incidentally, there's a Proactive commercial on right now where some young starlet (Jennifer Love Hewitt, I think) says there "was less pimples." Hey, how about "were fewer pimples" ya redneck? What's wrong -- nobody write you a script? I don't know why this bothers me so much, but I'm going to start muting the TV to miss that second, just like I turn off the radio during "Live and Let Die" so that it sounds like
"But if this ever-changing world in which we live (silence) makes you give in and cry..." rather than "this ever-changing world in which we live IN."
Here's a secret, JLH, it's FEWER for count nouns and LESS for non-count nouns. So fewer pimples, less acne. Sheesh.
Me: Did you see the new picture I put up of her in her pink thing?
Sweetie: Pink thing? I don't think so. What pink thing?
Me: You know, her chair. Her... Bumpy chair?
Sweetie: Rumpy chair? Rumpy pumpy?
Me: Boompah chair?
Sweetie: Bumble?
Me: Oom-pah-pah?
Sweetie: Rumplestiltskin?
Me: Rumblefish?
Sweetie: Rooty-toot-toot?
Me: Rihanna?
Okay, it may not have gone on quite that long.
We have a doctor's appointment this morning, and as Sweetie put it, there are two choices: she's either gained weight, which is good, or she hasn't, so she gets medication, which is good. Wish us luck, though.
Incidentally, there's a Proactive commercial on right now where some young starlet (Jennifer Love Hewitt, I think) says there "was less pimples." Hey, how about "were fewer pimples" ya redneck? What's wrong -- nobody write you a script? I don't know why this bothers me so much, but I'm going to start muting the TV to miss that second, just like I turn off the radio during "Live and Let Die" so that it sounds like
"But if this ever-changing world in which we live (silence) makes you give in and cry..." rather than "this ever-changing world in which we live IN."
Here's a secret, JLH, it's FEWER for count nouns and LESS for non-count nouns. So fewer pimples, less acne. Sheesh.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Twelve weeks today
Okay, that's not really three months, but almost! We decided to see if she was ready for her Bumbo seat (it helps babies sit up on their own) and as you can see, she liked it!
I call this one "I'll show you what I think of your stinkin' dress..."
And finally, I caught Sweetie reading the Savage Sword of Conan to the baby, and when I came in, she was rapt.
I call this one "I'll show you what I think of your stinkin' dress..."
And finally, I caught Sweetie reading the Savage Sword of Conan to the baby, and when I came in, she was rapt.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Congratulations all around!
I missed a Happy Father's Day post -- I'm sorry about that, because the dads around here certainly deserve one.
To my dad -- happy father's day. I'm very lucky.
To my Boompah -- well, as always, the Father's Day cards don't fit right, because you didn't, you know, teach me to play catch. But I know you love me, and not just because you respond to my pleas for chocolate or clean out my disgusting car.
I was feeling a little sad yesterday because my Grandpa wasn't around, but I realized I have a brand-new dad to celebrate, my Sweetie. I was not the only one who "knew" he would be a good dad. I think what surprised us all is how he exceeded our high expectations. I walk around all day with a song stuck in my head -- whatever Sweetie made up to sing to the baby that morning. It's easy to see how much he loves her.
On a different note, congratulations and best wishes to all the same-sex couples who will be married today after 5 o'clock in California! The court made the right decision, and I am going to WORK to make sure the people do, too, this fall. If you believe that same-sex couples deserve the right to marry, too, go help out Equality California.
Just an ever-so-brief rant: There is no way that gay marriage threatens the institution of marriage. Everyone on my street could be gay, get married, have some kids, and it STILL would have no effect whatsoever on my own marriage (and if it would on yours, maybe there's something wrong with your marriage). Let's celebrate people who are in love and give them the right to marry if they so choose.
To my dad -- happy father's day. I'm very lucky.
To my Boompah -- well, as always, the Father's Day cards don't fit right, because you didn't, you know, teach me to play catch. But I know you love me, and not just because you respond to my pleas for chocolate or clean out my disgusting car.
I was feeling a little sad yesterday because my Grandpa wasn't around, but I realized I have a brand-new dad to celebrate, my Sweetie. I was not the only one who "knew" he would be a good dad. I think what surprised us all is how he exceeded our high expectations. I walk around all day with a song stuck in my head -- whatever Sweetie made up to sing to the baby that morning. It's easy to see how much he loves her.
On a different note, congratulations and best wishes to all the same-sex couples who will be married today after 5 o'clock in California! The court made the right decision, and I am going to WORK to make sure the people do, too, this fall. If you believe that same-sex couples deserve the right to marry, too, go help out Equality California.
Just an ever-so-brief rant: There is no way that gay marriage threatens the institution of marriage. Everyone on my street could be gay, get married, have some kids, and it STILL would have no effect whatsoever on my own marriage (and if it would on yours, maybe there's something wrong with your marriage). Let's celebrate people who are in love and give them the right to marry if they so choose.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Date night
Well, a time in every parent's life comes when they have to leave their kid and get some alone time. Our first date night was last night, and Zadie stayed at our house with Grandma.
Here's how our evening went:
We make sure Grandma's got everything she needs. The baby starts crying, but she'll be fine, so we leave. We find parking near Celestin's and get seated. We order the sweet potato fries as a starter, and Sweetie has a Caipirinha while I have a Tuaca ginger lime. Both drinks are delicious and refreshing. Sweetie has a gumbo for his entree and I have Creole vegetables. After a lovely dinner, we head out for the movie.
We buy our tickets for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, get popcorn, water, and Junior Mints, then settle in for about 20 minutes of commercials before the feature. No spoilers here -- it was a good movie, but more for the chase scenes and the humor than the actual, you know, plot. I loved seeing Karen Allen again, not least because how often do older women get really good love-interest roles in action-adventure movies? I went into it with disbelief already suspended, but there were still a few moments where I was like "Oh, please!" Overall, though, it was a rollicking good time.
Which can probably not be said for Grandma's evening with Zadie, which apparently involved four hours of screaming, one profuse vomiting episode, then a brief nap. Sorry, Grandma. Although I've got to hand it to her -- she's clever! Zadie was refusing a bottle (why, I don't know, as she never has before) and Grandma figured out how to use my SNS as a finger-feeder. Good call, Grandma! Although I can't help imagining my sweet baby thinking "This nipple has a fingernail on it!"
To add insult to injury (nice job, kid), when I got home and held her, the first thing she started doing was smiling and cooing at me. Like "What four hours of screaming?"
Here's how our evening went:
We make sure Grandma's got everything she needs. The baby starts crying, but she'll be fine, so we leave. We find parking near Celestin's and get seated. We order the sweet potato fries as a starter, and Sweetie has a Caipirinha while I have a Tuaca ginger lime. Both drinks are delicious and refreshing. Sweetie has a gumbo for his entree and I have Creole vegetables. After a lovely dinner, we head out for the movie.
We buy our tickets for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, get popcorn, water, and Junior Mints, then settle in for about 20 minutes of commercials before the feature. No spoilers here -- it was a good movie, but more for the chase scenes and the humor than the actual, you know, plot. I loved seeing Karen Allen again, not least because how often do older women get really good love-interest roles in action-adventure movies? I went into it with disbelief already suspended, but there were still a few moments where I was like "Oh, please!" Overall, though, it was a rollicking good time.
Which can probably not be said for Grandma's evening with Zadie, which apparently involved four hours of screaming, one profuse vomiting episode, then a brief nap. Sorry, Grandma. Although I've got to hand it to her -- she's clever! Zadie was refusing a bottle (why, I don't know, as she never has before) and Grandma figured out how to use my SNS as a finger-feeder. Good call, Grandma! Although I can't help imagining my sweet baby thinking "This nipple has a fingernail on it!"
To add insult to injury (nice job, kid), when I got home and held her, the first thing she started doing was smiling and cooing at me. Like "What four hours of screaming?"
Friday, June 13, 2008
At the risk of my kid's first word being "cocksucker"
I may finally watch the end of the episode of Deadwood I was watching just before I left to go have her. (I didn't know I was on my way to have her, though. I remember telling mom I couldn't wait to hear what Joanie had to say to Calamity Jane -- apparently I was going to wait three months.)
She's asleep right now in the swing (I tried putting her in the crib, but it's still baby torture. Maybe it's not hot lava anymore, but it's still like the bog of eternal stench or something).
I have absolutely nothing to do today. My Friday walking partner isn't feeling well, so I have nothing to do until tonight, which is date night! Oh my gosh, our first night away from the baby ever! I trust my mom implicitly, but that doesn't make it easier, necessarily. I do love my husband beyond the scope of what words can express, though, so a little time alone with him should make up for the time away from baby.
With my free time, I did a little cleaning (not much* -- don't get your hopes up, Sweetie), then a little crafting. I made pink grapefruit and pink lemonade soap ("Fuck, I'm out of all the other food coloring colors besides red!" thought I...), and now I'm making candles. I attempted "tie-dye" candles before and was unsuccessful, so now I'm trying to do a riff on that instead -- votives that grade in color from blue to ivory to red. I hope these turn out better. If she stays asleep, I may or may not try to finish my sewing project. She likes white noise, but the sewing machine is right next to her swing, and the noise goes off and on, so it's not a constant. Well, maybe she'll let me sew later while she's playing on the mat.
School is officially out for summer, which makes me officially off maternity leave and on summer vacation like everybody else (who is a teacher). I'm curious as to how my paychecks are going to shape up. I think June will be zero, but July and August have been saved up from the last 10 months (9 months?), so I should have a normal check. I think.
We picked the suckiest time ever to get a new fence and roof, but we're going to make it. We haven't been spending nearly as much on dinners out or gas (since I'm not driving to work every day). So it sort of works.
Happy first day of retirement Dad! I hope to see you Sunday...
Oh, and if you're wondering whether I'm over my freakout, the answer is sort of. I read up more on reflux and it does sound like that's what Zadie has. I will be happy next week if she hasn't gained, because that will mean it's reflux for sure, and she'll get medicine for it (probably Zantac). And a week after that, if she has gained, I'll be even happier, because that will mean it's working. In the meantime, I'm stuffing her full of formula as often as she'll take it, then she's spitting up most of it, then my boobies leak all over. Yes, Sweetie, that's what those drip spots are all over the bathroom. Good times.
I guess that's about it. See you later, cocksuckers!
*A lot of the house stuff I do isn't that noticeable. Like, the dirty laundry is in a hamper, and then it gets washed, dried, folded, and put away. So you can't tell outwardly that anything has gone from dirty to clean, even though I do at least one load every day. Or I do household stuff that must be done, but you can't tell whether it's been done or not, like pay bills. Or I go grocery shopping, but nothing looks different because the refrigerator door is generally closed. Anyway, this is a sucky explanation for why the house doesn't look much different at the end of the day, even if I've been busy.
She's asleep right now in the swing (I tried putting her in the crib, but it's still baby torture. Maybe it's not hot lava anymore, but it's still like the bog of eternal stench or something).
I have absolutely nothing to do today. My Friday walking partner isn't feeling well, so I have nothing to do until tonight, which is date night! Oh my gosh, our first night away from the baby ever! I trust my mom implicitly, but that doesn't make it easier, necessarily. I do love my husband beyond the scope of what words can express, though, so a little time alone with him should make up for the time away from baby.
With my free time, I did a little cleaning (not much* -- don't get your hopes up, Sweetie), then a little crafting. I made pink grapefruit and pink lemonade soap ("Fuck, I'm out of all the other food coloring colors besides red!" thought I...), and now I'm making candles. I attempted "tie-dye" candles before and was unsuccessful, so now I'm trying to do a riff on that instead -- votives that grade in color from blue to ivory to red. I hope these turn out better. If she stays asleep, I may or may not try to finish my sewing project. She likes white noise, but the sewing machine is right next to her swing, and the noise goes off and on, so it's not a constant. Well, maybe she'll let me sew later while she's playing on the mat.
School is officially out for summer, which makes me officially off maternity leave and on summer vacation like everybody else (who is a teacher). I'm curious as to how my paychecks are going to shape up. I think June will be zero, but July and August have been saved up from the last 10 months (9 months?), so I should have a normal check. I think.
We picked the suckiest time ever to get a new fence and roof, but we're going to make it. We haven't been spending nearly as much on dinners out or gas (since I'm not driving to work every day). So it sort of works.
Happy first day of retirement Dad! I hope to see you Sunday...
Oh, and if you're wondering whether I'm over my freakout, the answer is sort of. I read up more on reflux and it does sound like that's what Zadie has. I will be happy next week if she hasn't gained, because that will mean it's reflux for sure, and she'll get medicine for it (probably Zantac). And a week after that, if she has gained, I'll be even happier, because that will mean it's working. In the meantime, I'm stuffing her full of formula as often as she'll take it, then she's spitting up most of it, then my boobies leak all over. Yes, Sweetie, that's what those drip spots are all over the bathroom. Good times.
I guess that's about it. See you later, cocksuckers!
*A lot of the house stuff I do isn't that noticeable. Like, the dirty laundry is in a hamper, and then it gets washed, dried, folded, and put away. So you can't tell outwardly that anything has gone from dirty to clean, even though I do at least one load every day. Or I do household stuff that must be done, but you can't tell whether it's been done or not, like pay bills. Or I go grocery shopping, but nothing looks different because the refrigerator door is generally closed. Anyway, this is a sucky explanation for why the house doesn't look much different at the end of the day, even if I've been busy.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Today was rough
I weighed her today with the expectation that she would have gained since we switched to soy. She's been so happy and so changed since we cut out milk, and I was just SURE she would be heavier.
But she wasn't.
So my beautiful, strong, smart baby who amazes everyone with her "wise" eyes and strong legs and neck is not even a pound over her birth weight at almost three months old. Most babies gain a minimum of four ounces a week.
The doctor, who has been telling me not to worry, agreed to see her next week and told me to just try to stuff her as full of formula as I can. Today that's 14 ounces, and she refuses to open her mouth again. I even stayed up late to try and get some more food in. We think it's reflux, and if she still hasn't gained next week, she'll have to go on medication.
I just feel like such shit. Babies need like four things -- food, sleep, love, and clean diapers. I'm somehow managing to screw up 25% of her whole existence. I cried my ass off today.
She's so amazing and beautiful and I just want to do right by her and can't figure out how I'm messing it up so badly.
I called my wonderful sister-in-law to find out if Sweetie had been a skinny baby, and she reassured me. I can't talk to my mother-in-law because we'd spend the rest of our lives hearing about the time Zadie almost starved to death, and how amazing she is, considering...)
My online buddies, who were quick to offer comfort, reminded me that some babies are just small. But this small? Even small babies gain weight.
Now my poor thing has spat up on me for, oh, the seventieth time today and is conked out cold (quite warm, actually) on my chest. Off to bed.
But she wasn't.
So my beautiful, strong, smart baby who amazes everyone with her "wise" eyes and strong legs and neck is not even a pound over her birth weight at almost three months old. Most babies gain a minimum of four ounces a week.
The doctor, who has been telling me not to worry, agreed to see her next week and told me to just try to stuff her as full of formula as I can. Today that's 14 ounces, and she refuses to open her mouth again. I even stayed up late to try and get some more food in. We think it's reflux, and if she still hasn't gained next week, she'll have to go on medication.
I just feel like such shit. Babies need like four things -- food, sleep, love, and clean diapers. I'm somehow managing to screw up 25% of her whole existence. I cried my ass off today.
She's so amazing and beautiful and I just want to do right by her and can't figure out how I'm messing it up so badly.
I called my wonderful sister-in-law to find out if Sweetie had been a skinny baby, and she reassured me. I can't talk to my mother-in-law because we'd spend the rest of our lives hearing about the time Zadie almost starved to death, and how amazing she is, considering...)
My online buddies, who were quick to offer comfort, reminded me that some babies are just small. But this small? Even small babies gain weight.
Now my poor thing has spat up on me for, oh, the seventieth time today and is conked out cold (quite warm, actually) on my chest. Off to bed.
Monday, June 09, 2008
I'm all full of joy! (and empty of chocolate)
Great news on so many fronts. Monkeygirl is in a great place right now, first, romantically, but she also finally got a killer job with holy-shit pay a lot closer to home.
And on Friday my Dad came over and mentioned he had quit smoking. I asked how long it had been, and he said "how old is she?" Is that about the coolest thing ever? I've been trying to get him to quit for most of thirty years, and he's finally done it! I'm happy for him, for his health, and I'm happy for me, because he'll presumably be around a little longer. And, you know, I like him. So him being around is good.
We made reservations for our trip to Eugene, so I'm super-excited to see the family. We get to stay for a week!
I was talking to my mother in law on the phone last night and got a good laugh. She was just saying how good babies smelled and how "delicious" they were, and as she talked, the baby made her poop face and grunted out a stinky one.
We got her birth certificate today. We need it to fly, so I'm glad we got it, but it's also cool -- it makes me feel like she's all official.
I got another good laugh yesterday, but I can't tell the story yet, because it has to do with Father's Day presents. But AFTER Father's day? I'm telling the HELL out of it.
And finally, speaking of some of the fathers in my life, a couple of them periodically buy me chocolate, usually for gift-giving occasions. Like, at Christmas they had me totally stocked up. I got two more bars at Mother's Day. But if either of them are interested, I'm almost out, and I really liked the Santander and Scharffenberger ones, and now I can't have any with milk fat, milk solids, or whey, but since I like them dark as night anyway, that should be no problem... Just FYI. Thinkin' out loud.
And on Friday my Dad came over and mentioned he had quit smoking. I asked how long it had been, and he said "how old is she?" Is that about the coolest thing ever? I've been trying to get him to quit for most of thirty years, and he's finally done it! I'm happy for him, for his health, and I'm happy for me, because he'll presumably be around a little longer. And, you know, I like him. So him being around is good.
We made reservations for our trip to Eugene, so I'm super-excited to see the family. We get to stay for a week!
I was talking to my mother in law on the phone last night and got a good laugh. She was just saying how good babies smelled and how "delicious" they were, and as she talked, the baby made her poop face and grunted out a stinky one.
We got her birth certificate today. We need it to fly, so I'm glad we got it, but it's also cool -- it makes me feel like she's all official.
I got another good laugh yesterday, but I can't tell the story yet, because it has to do with Father's Day presents. But AFTER Father's day? I'm telling the HELL out of it.
And finally, speaking of some of the fathers in my life, a couple of them periodically buy me chocolate, usually for gift-giving occasions. Like, at Christmas they had me totally stocked up. I got two more bars at Mother's Day. But if either of them are interested, I'm almost out, and I really liked the Santander and Scharffenberger ones, and now I can't have any with milk fat, milk solids, or whey, but since I like them dark as night anyway, that should be no problem... Just FYI. Thinkin' out loud.
Public transit...
I was really, really thinking about it.
I get about 30 miles per gallon. I have to fill up every 320 miles or so.
In a month, I go exactly 320 miles to work. Thus, JUST for work commuting, I spend ~$50 in gas per month at these rates.
It currently takes 15 minutes to get to work.
Light rail costs $85 per month and would take one hour to get to work and home.
Therefore, it would add 90 minutes of travel time each day and $35 in cost each month.
Still not worth it, even considering AAA's average driving costs per mile (because I'd still have to have insurance, etc.)
Bummer. Seriously, if it were faster or cheaper, I'd really consider it.
I get about 30 miles per gallon. I have to fill up every 320 miles or so.
In a month, I go exactly 320 miles to work. Thus, JUST for work commuting, I spend ~$50 in gas per month at these rates.
It currently takes 15 minutes to get to work.
Light rail costs $85 per month and would take one hour to get to work and home.
Therefore, it would add 90 minutes of travel time each day and $35 in cost each month.
Still not worth it, even considering AAA's average driving costs per mile (because I'd still have to have insurance, etc.)
Bummer. Seriously, if it were faster or cheaper, I'd really consider it.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
I think we're teething
I know it's early enough to seem unlikely, but she is drooling like CRAZY (Grandma was holding her today and streams of drool just continuously hit the floor), she chews on her hands, if I offer her a knuckle she bites down on it happily, and Mom thought she saw tooth buds under her gums. I noticed they were whitish, but I don't know what I'm looking for, you know?
Anyway, Mom says I had teeth at about 3 1/2 months, and I talked with my mother-in-law today who said Sweetie had teeth at three months, and Zadie is now almost 11 weeks, so... well... it could be teething.
Wow, time moves so quickly. I just noticed this morning that the sleeper we brought her home from the hospital in is a little short. She's grown three inches since birth. Hmph. Amazing. I think my baby is amazing.
Anyway, Mom says I had teeth at about 3 1/2 months, and I talked with my mother-in-law today who said Sweetie had teeth at three months, and Zadie is now almost 11 weeks, so... well... it could be teething.
Wow, time moves so quickly. I just noticed this morning that the sleeper we brought her home from the hospital in is a little short. She's grown three inches since birth. Hmph. Amazing. I think my baby is amazing.
Not a lot to say
The baby's using me as a human pacifier this morning so I can't get up and take a shower, which is a prerequisite for going grocery shopping.
I had weird dreams last night! In one, a group of people came to the house and offered to give us an estimate on something, then split us up, and when I came back to my computer, I saw that one of them was using it to get all my bank account numbers and such. It was my old friend Jeff Jaworski, and I couldn't believe he was identity-thefting me! The dream ended with me yelling "You tell Jaworski to fuck himself!"
In another, we had to stop driving on the freeway and transfer to a boat which clamped onto a track like some ferries or like the log ride at Six Flags. It was scary as hell, and right next to the track was the biggest wrecking ball I've ever seen. This dream was probably prompted by all the recent attention to repairs to the "boat section" of the freeway downtown.
In still a third, my mom and I and some other people were in Iowa to visit my Great Uncle Rol and Great Aunt Ruth. Rol has passed away and Ruth is no longer in Iowa, but that's the logic of dreams, right? Anyway, we all needed to help clean up the house, so we went to the new Green Superstore to find environmentally healthy cleaning products. But I couldn't find rags or paper towels, only those blue shop towels (which are wonderful, but I don't know why they'd be environmentally friendly).
I'm making a candle today for an online friend in a craft swap. She listed her favorite color as tie-dye, so I'm doing my best. I burned my finger a little and now I have to wait patiently for the wax to cool so I can pour a last little bit (so there's no divot near the center) and then I have to wait for THAT to dry before I can un-mold it and see how it came out. If it sucks, it's a waste of wax and I'll be bummed.
Miss McFussypants calls...
I had weird dreams last night! In one, a group of people came to the house and offered to give us an estimate on something, then split us up, and when I came back to my computer, I saw that one of them was using it to get all my bank account numbers and such. It was my old friend Jeff Jaworski, and I couldn't believe he was identity-thefting me! The dream ended with me yelling "You tell Jaworski to fuck himself!"
In another, we had to stop driving on the freeway and transfer to a boat which clamped onto a track like some ferries or like the log ride at Six Flags. It was scary as hell, and right next to the track was the biggest wrecking ball I've ever seen. This dream was probably prompted by all the recent attention to repairs to the "boat section" of the freeway downtown.
In still a third, my mom and I and some other people were in Iowa to visit my Great Uncle Rol and Great Aunt Ruth. Rol has passed away and Ruth is no longer in Iowa, but that's the logic of dreams, right? Anyway, we all needed to help clean up the house, so we went to the new Green Superstore to find environmentally healthy cleaning products. But I couldn't find rags or paper towels, only those blue shop towels (which are wonderful, but I don't know why they'd be environmentally friendly).
I'm making a candle today for an online friend in a craft swap. She listed her favorite color as tie-dye, so I'm doing my best. I burned my finger a little and now I have to wait patiently for the wax to cool so I can pour a last little bit (so there's no divot near the center) and then I have to wait for THAT to dry before I can un-mold it and see how it came out. If it sucks, it's a waste of wax and I'll be bummed.
Miss McFussypants calls...
Friday, June 06, 2008
Dude, we got pictures taken
At Sears. I did not foresee that kind of thing before I was a parent.
She was so serious, too. She wouldn't smile AT ALL. They're still gorgeous, though. It was kind of fun. I'll do it again...
She was so serious, too. She wouldn't smile AT ALL. They're still gorgeous, though. It was kind of fun. I'll do it again...
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Accidentally like a vegan... and other stuff
So the milk-free thing isn't going too badly. I made Persian food last night and looked longingly at Sweetie's feta, but didn't have any and was fine with my pita, onion, mint & basil. I find that most of what I make, milky stuff isn't integral to. Like, I'll make pasta and throw in cheese at the last minute. So I just leave it off. No worries. I'm making a dish for a potluck tomorrow and have to decide what it'll be. Something I can eat so I don't starve, but something I can make in the morning without messing up the kitchen too badly or spending $400 on vegan cheese.
Today I walked through my lovely neighborhood to a great coffee shop where I sat and had a cold drink and did some embroidery (you didn't know I could, did you?), then nursed the world's most beautiful baby, walked home to a house I love where my incredibly wonderful husband was waiting. Am I just the luckiest girl in the world or what?
Today I walked through my lovely neighborhood to a great coffee shop where I sat and had a cold drink and did some embroidery (you didn't know I could, did you?), then nursed the world's most beautiful baby, walked home to a house I love where my incredibly wonderful husband was waiting. Am I just the luckiest girl in the world or what?
It's a universal truth...
People can't resist a baby in sunglasses. Everywhere I go, people comment on how cute she is in her sunglasses. Of course, everywhere I go without the sunglasses, people simply remark on how cute she is.
She was grumping a bit in this photo, but I'm sure you can still see the cuteness.
I bought a pair of sunglasses for her a while back (okay, she was like 6 days old), but the ear pieces were a little too long, so they came off her face. But Grandma saw these the other day and they're much shorter, so they stay on. She seems to like them, and she usually really squints in the sun, so I think they're effective, not simply stylish.
She was grumping a bit in this photo, but I'm sure you can still see the cuteness.
I bought a pair of sunglasses for her a while back (okay, she was like 6 days old), but the ear pieces were a little too long, so they came off her face. But Grandma saw these the other day and they're much shorter, so they stay on. She seems to like them, and she usually really squints in the sun, so I think they're effective, not simply stylish.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
So here's what happened
Zadie was having some tummy time and I was taking pictures of her, and she rolled over twice. I said "Quit rolling over; I'm trying to get a good photo, punkin!" Sweetie came out and said "What's going on?" I said "She keeps rolling over." He said I should be taking a video. Well, she's been rolling over since she was 4 weeks old, but we can never catch it on video, so I wasn't hopeful.
Still, I got up and got the camera. This is what followed:
What it sounded like afterward was this:
Zadie: WAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Sweetie: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Me: Oh, punkin, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... (Aside to Sweetie) You're going to hell!
Zadie: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Sweetie: Bwahahahahahahahaha
Me: You're evil.
Sweetie: You're posting the video, though, right?
Still, I got up and got the camera. This is what followed:
What it sounded like afterward was this:
Zadie: WAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Sweetie: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Me: Oh, punkin, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... (Aside to Sweetie) You're going to hell!
Zadie: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Sweetie: Bwahahahahahahahaha
Me: You're evil.
Sweetie: You're posting the video, though, right?
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Cautiously optimistic
After another day and a half of milk-free living, Zadie is a changed baby. She's WAY less fussy, especially at diaper time and after feedings. She hardly cries at all now. Her bootie is less red. Her cheek rash is disappearing. She's easier to burp. She hasn't been crying in the car (a miracle!). Her spit-up is less and less curdled-looking (sorry for the TMI).
The true test will be tomorrow -- I need to know if she's gained weight. But if she has, we've found our answer.
It's kind of amazing to have a baby that doesn't fuss all the time. It's kind of great.
Oh, and she used to mostly have happy-smiling-time in the mornings, and now she has it all the time. Guess what I realized? I used to only breastfeed her in the mornings and give her formula later, so she was having happy-smiling-time at a time when she hadn't had any formula in 12 hours. Man, I'm SO slapping myself on the forehead.
The true test will be tomorrow -- I need to know if she's gained weight. But if she has, we've found our answer.
It's kind of amazing to have a baby that doesn't fuss all the time. It's kind of great.
Oh, and she used to mostly have happy-smiling-time in the mornings, and now she has it all the time. Guess what I realized? I used to only breastfeed her in the mornings and give her formula later, so she was having happy-smiling-time at a time when she hadn't had any formula in 12 hours. Man, I'm SO slapping myself on the forehead.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Two days ago I wasn't a blond vegan poker champ
But today I sort of am.
Well, I'm definitely blond now. It's no more natural than the dark brown or red (natural is more like an ashy, dishwater light brown that turns blonder in the sun), but it feels like me. I always feel like a blond inside. And not in that parody song "'Cause I'm a Blonde" kind of way. More in a this-is-California-and-I-feel-like-a-Beach-Boys-song way.
As for vegan, I'm not really. But the deal is, Zadie's been having some issues, primarily slow (almost no) weight gain. Taken separately (all but the weight gain), they don't amount to much to worry about. But al together, they sound like they might be a milk allergy. I switched her to soy formula yesterday and it's hard to tell a difference so soon, but I do think she's been spitting up less and is less fussy after feedings. It also seems easier to burp her, although I don't know if that's related. Anyway, I hope it works. The thing is, I'm still breastfeeding her, too; about half of the food she gets is from me. And if she has a milk allergy, that means no milk for me. It's not a big deal, as I already drink soy milk on my cereal and whatnot, but I do eat cheese, yogurt and ice cream (all in moderation, but I eat them). For a trial period to see if it helps Zadie, I'm going to cut those out. So I won't be vegan, because I'm not cutting out honey or eggs, but it's a step closer to vegan than I was two days ago.
As for poker champ, hah, that's a laugh. I did, however, walk away from the table last night with ten dollars more than I walked in with. It was a $5 buy-in and I cashed out with $15. Sweetie had bought my chips for me, so I returned his $5 and now I have ten dollars. Whoo! Maybe since I'm not working I can make some extra money this way! I'm not really any good -- I just happened to get lucky a couple times, and both times there was a big pot. We had super-fun last night. We went to Sweetie's co-worker's house and they barbecued meat (portobello mushrooms for me, thanks!) and we had deviled eggs and pasta salad and chips and dip and pie and cake and wine and coffee and ohmygoshIthinkIexploded! I made those grilled jalapenos that everyone seems to like (easy recipe: halve jalapenos, scoop out seeds. Fill with cream cheese. Grill until soft. Drip honey on top & remove from grill. Serve.) I love them, myself, although I happened to get a really hot batch of jalapenos. I had made sure to clean them really well (it's the seeds and veins that add the most heat), but they still made my nose run. And everyone else's, too. They got eaten, though!
Zadie was a little fussy early in the evening so we had several discreet boob sessions. My favorite moment came when I disappeared down the hall, got her on the boob, and came back with my sling's extra fabric draped over the baby so she was covered. The host said "Oh, that's how Debbie calms the cats!" I said "No, no it isn't."
Sweetie went in the pool, but for some reason it's still cool in Sacramento, even though last night it was a few hours from June. It's kind of eerie. Anyway, I didn't go in.
I went to visit school on Friday to drop off some scholarship paperwork for a student. While there, I visited with the students and a few teachers. I had the baby on a countertop and all 35 students in 2nd period crowded around her going "awww." They're so sweet. The teachers all confided that the kids are going nutballs at the end of the school year. They always do. At least, I reminded them, it's not hot. Because two weeks until the end of school AND hot outside? It turns into chaos.
Anyway, today I need to clean the house a bit because I spent half of yesterday at the beauty parlor. Then I have a few errands to do. And I'll have fun fun fun 'til my daddy takes my T-bird away...
Well, I'm definitely blond now. It's no more natural than the dark brown or red (natural is more like an ashy, dishwater light brown that turns blonder in the sun), but it feels like me. I always feel like a blond inside. And not in that parody song "'Cause I'm a Blonde" kind of way. More in a this-is-California-and-I-feel-like-a-Beach-Boys-song way.
As for vegan, I'm not really. But the deal is, Zadie's been having some issues, primarily slow (almost no) weight gain. Taken separately (all but the weight gain), they don't amount to much to worry about. But al together, they sound like they might be a milk allergy. I switched her to soy formula yesterday and it's hard to tell a difference so soon, but I do think she's been spitting up less and is less fussy after feedings. It also seems easier to burp her, although I don't know if that's related. Anyway, I hope it works. The thing is, I'm still breastfeeding her, too; about half of the food she gets is from me. And if she has a milk allergy, that means no milk for me. It's not a big deal, as I already drink soy milk on my cereal and whatnot, but I do eat cheese, yogurt and ice cream (all in moderation, but I eat them). For a trial period to see if it helps Zadie, I'm going to cut those out. So I won't be vegan, because I'm not cutting out honey or eggs, but it's a step closer to vegan than I was two days ago.
As for poker champ, hah, that's a laugh. I did, however, walk away from the table last night with ten dollars more than I walked in with. It was a $5 buy-in and I cashed out with $15. Sweetie had bought my chips for me, so I returned his $5 and now I have ten dollars. Whoo! Maybe since I'm not working I can make some extra money this way! I'm not really any good -- I just happened to get lucky a couple times, and both times there was a big pot. We had super-fun last night. We went to Sweetie's co-worker's house and they barbecued meat (portobello mushrooms for me, thanks!) and we had deviled eggs and pasta salad and chips and dip and pie and cake and wine and coffee and ohmygoshIthinkIexploded! I made those grilled jalapenos that everyone seems to like (easy recipe: halve jalapenos, scoop out seeds. Fill with cream cheese. Grill until soft. Drip honey on top & remove from grill. Serve.) I love them, myself, although I happened to get a really hot batch of jalapenos. I had made sure to clean them really well (it's the seeds and veins that add the most heat), but they still made my nose run. And everyone else's, too. They got eaten, though!
Zadie was a little fussy early in the evening so we had several discreet boob sessions. My favorite moment came when I disappeared down the hall, got her on the boob, and came back with my sling's extra fabric draped over the baby so she was covered. The host said "Oh, that's how Debbie calms the cats!" I said "No, no it isn't."
Sweetie went in the pool, but for some reason it's still cool in Sacramento, even though last night it was a few hours from June. It's kind of eerie. Anyway, I didn't go in.
I went to visit school on Friday to drop off some scholarship paperwork for a student. While there, I visited with the students and a few teachers. I had the baby on a countertop and all 35 students in 2nd period crowded around her going "awww." They're so sweet. The teachers all confided that the kids are going nutballs at the end of the school year. They always do. At least, I reminded them, it's not hot. Because two weeks until the end of school AND hot outside? It turns into chaos.
Anyway, today I need to clean the house a bit because I spent half of yesterday at the beauty parlor. Then I have a few errands to do. And I'll have fun fun fun 'til my daddy takes my T-bird away...
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