I'm around.

Hi all. Anything I had to say this week (my sinus infection, minor annoyances at school...) seemed pretty secondary to the news about T1, so I didn't want to bump that post down for something minor. But my dad had to actually call to make sure my little family was okay, so I figured it was time to update.

I'm getting over my sinus infection, thankfully, with the help of some amoxicillin. The baby's been a little off, waking up at night and such, but overall she's well. She has made several new signs. She made the sign for coat after only seeing it a few times. She has taken a step or two here and there, but couldn't be said to be walking yet. I'm getting excited for her birthday. I got her cake pan delivered today (gotta love the internet).

I signed up for the BlogHer conference in July. Mom and I are going to go together, and she will watch Zadie while I'm in the workshops, and then we can explore Chicago a little bit. Then afterwards, we'll go to Iowa to visit my grandma, who has never met Zadie.

We're also thinking of a little trip down to Santa Cruz over Spring break. I'm looking forward to these trips, but especially to our trip to Oregon in early July. Nothing's settled yet, but we're thinking of renting a small apartment this time instead of staying in a hotel. That way we can make a few of our own meals. I found a few vacation rentals through Craigslist, and they were pretty reasonable.

I used to update you all fairly regularly on the old breastfeeding situation, and I haven't done so lately. We're still going strong, if only three times a day on the weekdays. She takes less formula than she used to as she gets more solid foods. When she turns a year old, we'll probably ditch the formula altogether, continue to nurse, and give her sippy cups of milk. I always said I'd quit when she seemed ready, and she doesn't yet. I know a few of you are thinking "You're going to continue breastfeeding past a year old?" But there are lots of benefits of continuing to nurse as she gets older. Here's a list. One nice thing about ditching the formula is that I'll get to get rid of my SNS, the supplementing bottle-thing I use. I'll just breastfeed her like any other mom. Sounds nice.

Okay, I suppose that's about it. Take care, all.

T1*

We got an email this morning that an old, close friend has passed away. I won't say anything about his death other than that mental illness is a terrible thing to live with, but I do want to celebrate his life.

I met T1 when three of Sweetie's friends from Portland came down for a visit shortly after we moved in together. Their plan was to catch up, play some games, eat some junk food, and probably to scope me out, too. It was a great weekend -- we took them to Tower Cafe, played around the house, and I got to know them a little. T1 made a particular impression because the bond between him and Sweetie was obvious. They horsed around, calling each other jackasses, constantly trading funny insults.

In the intervening years, he came down here several more times, we visited him in Portland, and he came to Eugene for Christmas to spend time with us and Sweetie's family.

He was charming and easy to get along with. I remember giving him a hard time about his musical choices, his tattoos, his cologne (he was sure "the ladies" liked it), and his childhood "bowel haircut." We went rafting together, and it was a farce. Monkeygirl and I shared a raft and had an easy ride down the river. Sweetie and T1, however, had a ride filled with yelling, wild paddling, and falling out of the boat. And lots of laughter.

Before Sweetie and I got married, T1 gave me "the talk." If I ever hurt Sweetie, he assured me, he'd come find me. I loved his loyalty.

He was there for our wedding, an affair that included all of six people, including the bride and groom. Early in the day, he appointed himself photographer and took pictures of everything, including me in my robe eating yogurt. He also got a couple sweet shots of us feeding the parking meter at the county clerk's office, our take-a-number number (13), us signing the paperwork... Then during the actual ceremony, he was trying to get different angles for the photos, and every time we looked at him, he'd be stalking around the room, climbing over things. We were giggling a little, but trying to keep it in. But then, in the middle of our vows, we spotted him in a potted plant, and we just lost it. Our wedding was filled with laughter, mostly because of him.

I don't remember much of the reception -- mostly I remember going from table to table to talk with my favorite people, but I do remember that he gave one of the most heartfelt and touching toasts that I've heard.

Once, we went to MB's house for a role-playing game. It was an apocalyptic kind of setting, and we were all supposed to play ourselves. In almost any game, you have to create your character, which involves giving the character statistics for things like strength, intelligence, etc. This game also required statistics in skills like driving and handling guns. The chart that explained how to give yourself the stats gave approximate levels. For example, a professional race car driver might be a 45, whereas a normal person might be a 20. A 45 in handguns was for military-trained snipers. T1 thought about it a moment, and then he gave himself 40s in both categories. Never under-confident, that one.

Sweetie's and T1's relationship had ups and downs -- T1 drove people away, and Sweetie holds a grudge, but after some time had passed, Sweetie always reached out and said "You are important to me and I want you to be part of my life." I know that whatever else, T1 knows we both loved him and cared about him.

My sincere sympathies go to his widow and three step-children. She put it succinctly this morning when she said "it just sucks."

T1, when people say "rest in peace," it often rings hollow and empty. But I truly hope you've found the peace you so often lacked in life. We love you.

*Sweetie and T1 called themselves the "Toltecs." Our friend was Toltec 1 and Sweetie was Toltec 2.

Bad news first

IMG_2730
Originally uploaded by countmockula

First the bad news -- I'm definitely sick, possibly with a sinus infection (I don't usually get sinus headaches unless I'm really sick, but last night, even reading Zadie's books hurt).

Two pieces of good news. First, it's the weekend! Yay, weekend. I have chores to do and papers to grade, but it's still better than being at work!

Second, we found out how much our tax refund is going to be. Can I just say, "Yay"? Thank you, little window-peeping deduction.

Slightly pissy

magazine, dolly, Cheerios.
Originally uploaded by countmockula

This picture cheers me up a little.

First, the baby has been a little sick, which means she's been sleeping all evening. It makes me feel like I haven't gotten to spend any time with her. Sniff.

Second, I've got something sinusy and evil going on. I keep horking up these things that look vaguely like Oscar the Grouch.

Third, I have a BAJILLION things to do at school, and I have stayed late three days this week. I'm also not nearly done with my bajillion things list. In fact, I have to get on it right now.

Fourth, shit is not going right for me at school. I requested some computer lab days, but my request disappeared and the time slots were filled in by other teachers. So I re-did my lesson plans and put in new requests. They disappeared AGAIN! I keep having to switch around my plans to find lab days that are open, and the calendar keeps filling up with other people's classes in the meantime. Yesterday I emailed the lady in charge to ask whether I was doing something wrong with my requests, and I got an out-of-office reply. SHEESH!

Okay, now I have to go do stuff.

And, we have a step!

Okay, it's not multiple steps yet, but she was in the kitchen, standing, and Sweetie said "You should walk after the cat." She then took one step on her own. Of course, ever since we've been trying to convince her to take more steps (baiting her with Cheerios almost works), and it hasn't happened.

Ever hear a baby roar?

I love being a mom

But there's no doubt it makes life a little weirder.

For example, this morning I woke up, changed a diaper, and sucked the snot out of someone else's nose.


Then I made waffles and tried to keep Z from spilling my coffee.


Then I went to yoga, while Z went to the child care center. Halfway through yoga, the child care lady came and asked if there was a "Karla" in the room. I guessed this was me. There were a lot of older kids (maybe 15 or 20) in the center, and they were yelling and Z got scared. She was crying, so we had to leave early.

Then I went to the co-op, where, dressed in my yoga clothes and a with a serious case of bed head, I ran into two friends and Zadie yelled "Bye" throughout the store.

At home, I fed her three blackberries and some yogurt.


She smashed the berries in her hands.


Then she grabbed her legs and feet.


I stripped her and put her in the bath while I got her towel and a new diaper and waited for the water to warm up.


She peed AND pooped in the tub (I decided not to photograph it).

So then we took our shower, where she decided to nurse, and kept switching boobs like a teenager with his head under the Slurpee machine.

Then we got out, got her dressed, and I cleaned the tub. When I came back to get her, she was sucking on antibacterial hand sanitizer.

It's been quite a morning.

Valentine-y montage

Happy Valentine's Day

IMG_2698
Originally uploaded by countmockula

For those of you who love love. From my daughter in her Elton John shades.

Her first sentences!

Yesterday, Mom and Zadie were walking by a school when they saw a bunch of seagulls. Mom pointed out that some of them were eating, and Zadie made the sign for bird, then the sign for eat. "Birds eat." That's her first sentence.

It was followed quickly this morning. She says "bye" and she says "Dada," but this morning she put them together very clearly. "Bye Daddy." (Yes, it sounded more like Daddy than Dada today.)

Pretty cool, huh? (Not to be all smug, but it normally happens between 18 and 24 months -- she's 10 months.)

Daffodils bloomed.

Daffodowndilly

by A.A. Milne

She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
"Winter is dead."

It's true: I think she's rad

Little Miss Wonder-pants is like the queen of new sounds and signs lately. She now makes the sign for diaper very clearly, and is working on the sign for butterfly (she can't cross her thumbs, but it's clear what she's doing). She makes animal noises very well, especially "bow wow wow." She makes the sign for fish with both the pucker-lips and the wavy hand (pucker lips is the baby version, wavy hand is the grown-up version). She also now both pats her thigh and pants for the dog sign.

Also, quite suddenly, she started crawling. She has been army crawling for months, but never on her hands and knees. Then she started getting around by holding on to stuff and shuffle-walking, so we figured she'd skip the regular crawl, but no; all of a sudden she was just like "What? I can do this."

She has also realized that my boobs are still there even when they're behind clothing, and has figured out in many cases how to get the clothing out of her way.

She said "eye" many times and "hair" at least once, and can usually point to those, as well as noses and mouths. I'm not crazy about her pointing at my eye, because she kind of sticks her finger in there, but still...

When I play the Beastie Boys for her (or just sing the song) she sings along with "Fight for your Right." I go "Fight! For your right! To PAAAAAAAAAAAAR-TAY" and she goes "Paaaaa."

She also will now kiss her doll. I hold a doll and say "I love you!" and kiss it. Then I hand it to her and she smooches it, too.

Right now she's playing peek-a-boo with her daddy and laughing her ass off and making growling noises. It's a nice morning.

Autonomotrons!

I listen to talk radio in the morning. Not real talk radio -- morning shows. I used to listen to a local show until they started broadcasting the Adam Carolla show here. Now I only turn back to the local show during commercials (sorry, advertisers!). Anyway, the local show's schtick is that one guy is the fat, dumb, politically incorrect guy. The girl is hyper-sensitive liberal girl. The main guy (who owns the show) is the smart one. But here's the deal; he's only smart in comparison to the other two. It's like the girls in high school where you decide one girl is the pretty one, when lots of different girls are really pretty in their own ways, but for some reason, this one girl got the reputation. Anyway, Mr. Smartypants FREQUENTLY makes grammatical and usage mistakes (I think he makes the same mistake damn near every time he tries to say something like "You can ask Dawn or I..."). But it's probably worst when he tries to use big words. He uses them wrong a lot. This morning, it cracked me up. He was talking about an elementary school where kids were given matching, uniform-type sweatshirts with the school's name on them. He complained that the kids were being turned into "autonomatrons." I am sure he meant automatons, and I know I shouldn't pick on one simple mistake, but it was so funny. It made me think of Transformer-like robots -- the Autonomotrons!

My freshmen are driving me nuts again. It's testing behavior - they're testing me, I know it! It's just that, at some point, don't they have their answer? When do they go "Okay, THAT's how she reacts," and get the fuck over it? I found a t-shirt that says "Stupid freshmen" and I want to wear it under my real clothes all the time. Let me just detail one of the things I deal with several times a week -- a kid is chewing gum. I ask him to spit it out. A few minutes later, I see him chewing again. I watch his mouth to make sure and SEE blue gum in his mouth. I say "get rid of the gum." He opens his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out, and says "I don't have gum, see?" First of all, don't fucking lie to me, because it's insulting. Second of all, I have no interest in seeing your white, plaque-ridden tongue. Put it away. Grody.

And you know what? I didn't sign up for gum patrol. I didn't go to college for ten years and get three degrees to look in people's mouths. I chew gum and I like it. I really have no problem with gum except for two things: It's a rule, and they can't keep it in their mouths, so it ends up mucking up the carpet.

(Shoot, some of my post got deleted. I shall re-create it.)

I was at Corti Brothers today and lingered around the chocolate display while I waited for sandwiches. A picture caught my eye of a hollow chocolate bar with a vanilla bean resting in it. I read the text, which informed me that these chocolates were aged with a vanilla bean to infuse the flavor. Sounds nice. I checked the price, thinking I'd buy one. And then I gasped. They were $8.49 for 1.2 ounces. For real! It weighed about as much as three Hershey's kisses but cost almost 9 dollars. I shuddered and looked at some other chocolates. These were packaged like CDs and came in interesting flavors like black pepper, hot chili, mango, and smoked fig. Smoked fig sounded interesting, so I checked the price on these. They were $7 something for a little more chocolate. No way. I got my sandwiches and went to the checkout. There, they had bite-sized packages of the same chocolates, so I dug through and found a smoked fig one. It was a disappointment. The smoke flavor was quite strong and the fig bits were leathery and dry. I get better chocolate all the time in big bars for $2 or $3.

Speaking of getting my sandwiches, I should have spoken up today, but I felt bad. I come in every single week and order the same sandwiches. The deli lady who wears too much makeup always pronounces my name wrong, and I have never corrected her. (Car-uh instead of Care-uh.) Anyway, it was a little slow today, so she said "Oh, I know your order! Veggie with avocado and sprouts!" But, well... every week, I write "+avocado, no sprouts." I'm not a big fan of sprouts and prefer the leaf lettuce. It was just so nice to have her think she knew my order that I went with it. Of course, when she asked me if I wanted mayonnaise, I had to practically yell "no!" Eww.

Well, that's all that's on my mind. Except a rotating playlist of "Tempted" (by the Squeeze), "Doorbell" (the White Stripes), and "Fight for Your Right" (the Beastie Boys). I don't know why.