IMG_0695
Originally uploaded by countmockula
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Ahem, just an eensy bit not over it.
So... I had these really great ideas about Z's birth before it happened. I was sure it was going to go smoothly and sure I wouldn't need pain medication. I was also sure I was making the right choice for both of us.
LONG story short, everything went cockeyed and I did end up needing the drugs and she was in the special care nursery getting oxygen for several days.
But, you know, she's here and she's amazing and she's so much more than I ever imagined, and I'm so lucky. So most of the time, I don't even think about the fact that I didn't get the perfect birth, you know?
And there's this web site I visit that's about breastfeeding, but the topic of births comes up and some of these women, seriously, are like majorly traumatized that they didn't get the perfect birth and cry and need therapy and want to try it again and switch doctors three times to get one who will (they think) give them exactly the birth they want. And they're really upset about it. And I think "Well I had a sucky birth experience too, but I'm over it. I have an awesome, healthy kid."
And then today I read this article in "Mothering" magazine. It was about how drug-free births are totally a bazillion times better for the kid, and really, the pain is just like a "stretching" or a "stinging" and anyway, you have long pain-free breaks in between, so you should totally be able to manage a drug-free birth.
And it... okay, it touched a nerve. It's not even entirely about the drugs -- I needed the drugs -- but it's about a lot of stuff. Not getting to hold her right away. Not getting to room in with her. Not getting to walk around and breathe and meditate and use my guided meditation on my iPod and not getting to take a bath or shower at home and not getting to decide when I went to the hospital after laboring at home. Instead, I was told by my doctor to go straight to the hospital, where they gave me Pitocin to induce labor. After it kicked in, and until I got the epidural, I more or less sat on a chair and lowed.
The doctors and nurses and midwives (with one notable exception) did all the right things and made all the right decisions. They initially induced labor to reduce the risk of infection, and in the long run, they probably saved her life. So it was a great outcome. But it was definitely one of those things that did not go as I expected and that I won't get a do-over for. And it grates a little to hear about how wonderful and painless natural labor can be. I didn't have that option. (Well, I could have homebirthed, but then I probably wouldn't have Zadie at all.)
At a recent baby shower, lots of women were telling their birth stories, but I didn't. I don't think it's right to scare expectant mothers. But that also means I don't really get to talk about one of the most important nights of my life. And I admit it... there's still a little bit of pain there.
LONG story short, everything went cockeyed and I did end up needing the drugs and she was in the special care nursery getting oxygen for several days.
But, you know, she's here and she's amazing and she's so much more than I ever imagined, and I'm so lucky. So most of the time, I don't even think about the fact that I didn't get the perfect birth, you know?
And there's this web site I visit that's about breastfeeding, but the topic of births comes up and some of these women, seriously, are like majorly traumatized that they didn't get the perfect birth and cry and need therapy and want to try it again and switch doctors three times to get one who will (they think) give them exactly the birth they want. And they're really upset about it. And I think "Well I had a sucky birth experience too, but I'm over it. I have an awesome, healthy kid."
And then today I read this article in "Mothering" magazine. It was about how drug-free births are totally a bazillion times better for the kid, and really, the pain is just like a "stretching" or a "stinging" and anyway, you have long pain-free breaks in between, so you should totally be able to manage a drug-free birth.
And it... okay, it touched a nerve. It's not even entirely about the drugs -- I needed the drugs -- but it's about a lot of stuff. Not getting to hold her right away. Not getting to room in with her. Not getting to walk around and breathe and meditate and use my guided meditation on my iPod and not getting to take a bath or shower at home and not getting to decide when I went to the hospital after laboring at home. Instead, I was told by my doctor to go straight to the hospital, where they gave me Pitocin to induce labor. After it kicked in, and until I got the epidural, I more or less sat on a chair and lowed.
The doctors and nurses and midwives (with one notable exception) did all the right things and made all the right decisions. They initially induced labor to reduce the risk of infection, and in the long run, they probably saved her life. So it was a great outcome. But it was definitely one of those things that did not go as I expected and that I won't get a do-over for. And it grates a little to hear about how wonderful and painless natural labor can be. I didn't have that option. (Well, I could have homebirthed, but then I probably wouldn't have Zadie at all.)
At a recent baby shower, lots of women were telling their birth stories, but I didn't. I don't think it's right to scare expectant mothers. But that also means I don't really get to talk about one of the most important nights of my life. And I admit it... there's still a little bit of pain there.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Bon Joviation
I try not to share my dreams, because I know they're a very had-to-be-there kind of thing, but this one was good.
I dreamed that there was a new form of court-ordered mediation. You could opt for the Bon Jovi method. The complainant is referred to as "the Bon" and the answerer is called "the Jovi." You state the issue, then call up a magic 8 ball-type Bon Jovi lyrics randomizer.
"We're halfway there" might mean to split the assets evenly in half.
"You promise me heaven, then put me through hell" might mean "you broke the contract."
"Your love is like bad medicine" might be pharmaceutical-related.
You know, you have to do some interpretation. But I think it's an interesting idea.
I dreamed that there was a new form of court-ordered mediation. You could opt for the Bon Jovi method. The complainant is referred to as "the Bon" and the answerer is called "the Jovi." You state the issue, then call up a magic 8 ball-type Bon Jovi lyrics randomizer.
"We're halfway there" might mean to split the assets evenly in half.
"You promise me heaven, then put me through hell" might mean "you broke the contract."
"Your love is like bad medicine" might be pharmaceutical-related.
You know, you have to do some interpretation. But I think it's an interesting idea.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Love Shack!
I got her singing "Love Shack." Unfortunately, I pressed the stop button right as she was in the middle of saying "Tin roof... rusted."
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Baby branding
I was reading an article in Children's Health magazine about how to protect children from the effects of marketing. It was astounding how many ads children are exposed to, and how few chances we really get to counter that. One sidebar to the article suggested things like not buying products with TV characters on them. I was proud of myself, because earlier in the day, Zadie had seen and asked for some soup with Dora the Explorer on it. I told her no, that we were getting the organic brand. But then I remembered. In a day or two, the UPS truck will deliver the training bike I found online -- with Elmo's head on it.
It's hard to protect kids from the influence of marketing. Zadie saw Elmo one time and was in love. She started saying his name, asking to see his videos, wanting us to sing the song. At least Elmo isn't all over the macaroni and cheese boxes. Dora is another story. As far as I know, Zadie has seen "Dora the Explorer" exactly once. In fact, she thinks Dora is the one who says "Ni hao." But I bought Dora swim diapers this summer, as they were the only ones in her size. Now she begs to wear her Dora diapers. And she wanted Dora fleece fabric at the craft store this morning. And Dora soup while grocery shopping. I don't even know what is it that appeals to her so much about Dora, but the cartoon is EVERYWHERE and I was just shocked to see that she, at 18 months, is already asking for brands at the supermarket based on their advertising. It's kind of disgusting.
Anyway, I'm going to take the advice of the article, doing things like telling her that advertisements are trying to get your money and countering the messages in other ways. But I can see it being an uphill battle.
It's hard to protect kids from the influence of marketing. Zadie saw Elmo one time and was in love. She started saying his name, asking to see his videos, wanting us to sing the song. At least Elmo isn't all over the macaroni and cheese boxes. Dora is another story. As far as I know, Zadie has seen "Dora the Explorer" exactly once. In fact, she thinks Dora is the one who says "Ni hao." But I bought Dora swim diapers this summer, as they were the only ones in her size. Now she begs to wear her Dora diapers. And she wanted Dora fleece fabric at the craft store this morning. And Dora soup while grocery shopping. I don't even know what is it that appeals to her so much about Dora, but the cartoon is EVERYWHERE and I was just shocked to see that she, at 18 months, is already asking for brands at the supermarket based on their advertising. It's kind of disgusting.
Anyway, I'm going to take the advice of the article, doing things like telling her that advertisements are trying to get your money and countering the messages in other ways. But I can see it being an uphill battle.
What's up
Zadie helped me decorate sugar cookies today.
We went to ArtBeast, and although we had fun, she did have one thing she HATED. We took the "early art" class, and for part of it, the teacher put out trays with shaving foam. All the other kids were having a good time putting their hands in it and playing. Zadie did not want to touch it. I put her hand out to show her it was fine, and she freaked!
After that, she didn't even want to go back to the table, although she eventually agreed to let me hold her while I drew letters in the foam.
It's been a fun weekend. We went to Fox and Goose yesterday for breakfast, then did some cleaning and grocery shopping, then had stir-fry for dinner and went to the playground. She initially was mad when another boy came to play, but then I helped him onto the airplane behind her, and the whole way home (and last night, and today...) she kept saying "We shared!"
Today we went to ArtBeast and stayed for about two hours, then we came home for a nap. Then we made our cookies. (Zadie really decorated all of them. I held the sprinkles and told her to put them on the ghosts, and she did. I did help her shake the orange sugar on, though). We got pizza from La Trattoria Bohemia for dinner (so awesome), then went to Gynagirl's and Drummergirl's place. They are always so accommodating of her, even when she's bossy ("Shoes on!"). She has a great time over there. I should really visit more often.
Finally we stopped by Sideshow Studio, where they were having a Halloween party. We said hello to our friends but didn't stay long. Then I suggested she say goodbye. One of the employees (a very nice woman named Sandra) was dressed as a sort of fancy French courtesan, or one of the women from the movie "The Duchess." It was ruffly, pink, short, and she had a pink ringletty wig on. Zadie said goodbye to Cy, then we went to Sandra and Zadie raised her eyebrows in obvious awe and half-whispered "Bye-bye, Bo Peep!"
I have two more blog posts in me this weekend, if I can get the time, one over on Count Momula (she'll be 19 months tomorrow, and I still try to update that blog once a month) and one here about consumerism. Keep an eye out, and thanks for reading.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Voracious Z
Swinging at the park with Daddy.
Bundled up for a snack.
In the garden.
Daddy's southwest scramble.
Seriously though, this kid can eat. Apparently today she ate oatmeal, trail mix, scrambled egg with cheese, olives, spaghetti (two servings), then rotini (and seconds), yogurt, animal crackers, dried cherries and a fig cereal bar. (Normally I probably wouldn't give her pasta twice, but I was feeling lazy and wanted a quick dinner tonight.)
Bundled up for a snack.
In the garden.
Daddy's southwest scramble.
Seriously though, this kid can eat. Apparently today she ate oatmeal, trail mix, scrambled egg with cheese, olives, spaghetti (two servings), then rotini (and seconds), yogurt, animal crackers, dried cherries and a fig cereal bar. (Normally I probably wouldn't give her pasta twice, but I was feeling lazy and wanted a quick dinner tonight.)
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Whirlwind weekend!
Wowza, have I been busy (and I'm not done yet)! On Friday, I knew we had a busy Saturday planned, so I got take-out (from Thai Palace, which is only decent, but has the benefit of being close). We had pad thai, fried rice, spring rolls, and tom kha (which was excellent). Then I did my usual Saturday morning cleaning (which is mostly just putting my own and the baby's crap away, but also involves laundry). Next, I made a shopping list and went grocery shopping. I got home and put the baby to bed, then started getting food ready for the next day's activities. I got a recipe out of the paper for a sweet potato salad that sounded good, and I made it, and I also marinated some tofu. Finally, I hit the sack.
On Saturday, we woke up at 6:30, made a pot of coffee, and started getting ready for a multi-family yard sale. Almost all we had to sell were books, but in the first hour or so of the sale, we were the only ones who sold anything. In fact, we'd made fifty bucks by about 9, when everyone else hadn't made anything! Z and I walked to the store and bought bagels and cream cheese and set up the toaster in our front yard, so everyone else came over and ate bagels with us. Sales slowed down after that, but there was one guy who bought a TON of Sweetie's gaming books. I personally exercised restraint in not purchasing chaps or a wetsuit from my neighbors.
Then at 11:30, I got the baby set to go to Grandma's and we left. I dropped Z off and went to Deeda salon to get my hair cut and colored. I loved (no, I mean LOVED) my old stylist, but she was sort of slow, so I'm getting used to my new stylist, and I appreciate getting out in two hours. Anyway, I went a little lighter and feel a LOT better, like my skin looks brighter and everything. I like other colors on me, and I know my natural color is somewhere on the brown scale, but I still feel blonde.
When we got back, everyone had cleaned up the yard sale offerings and we were on to the "block party" part of the day. My neighbors had set up several tables and chairs and a grill in their yard, and we all commenced to take food over. We ate sausages (Tofurkey for me), tofu, homemade bread, spinach dip, chips and salsa and guacamole, several kinds of salad (my sweet potato salad won accolades), and finally cookies. We also caught up on the neighborhood gossip, the most interesting piece of which was (for me) that our crazy-lawn-lady neighbor who defaulted on her mortgage has been LIVING NEXT DOOR to her old house the entire time! The woman we used to see outside every morning obsessing over her yard has been parking in the garage and coming and going on the sly. Weird. Really weird.
At about 5:30, I went inside to change clothes and change the baby (who was covered in watermelon juice), and shortly thereafter Monkeygirl came by so we could go to poker night together. We loaded up our jalapeno poppers (so hot i could barely eat them!), stopped and bought a pie, then headed to D and S's house. Two or three times a year, we go over there to play poker (none of us are very good, but at least S remembers the rules and etiquette -- the rest of us have to consult cheat sheets to determine whether a straight is better than a full house). We always have great food and great conversations and games, but we have sometimes complained about the musical selections, as our tastes cal be very different. To alleviate this and make a game of it, S sent us all an email asking for our "Desert Island Discs," and he made a playlist of them. Then he created a spreadsheet so we could guess whose song was whose and keep track. It ended up being SO fun! I got two of my own wrong, unbelievably (I put "Redemption Song" as Sweetie's, when it was mine, and thought the Beach Boys' "God Only Knows" was mine, when it was actually Monkeygirl's!). We also had some hints, such as when someone mentioned a Linda Ronstadt song on the list and D said "It's the most beautiful song in the WORLD!" We also intentionally confused each other, as when three of us all sang along to a song none of us had chosen. The tricky ones were ones like Joni Mitchell -- S and I are both huge fans. And there were two Nirvanas and two Talking Heads. How do you choose whether someone is more "And She Was" or more ''Take Me to the River?"
D is the sweetest hostess: she bought a set of blocks so Zadie would have something to play with at her house that was different than her toys at home. How thoughtful, right?
Today I'm taking it easy -- finishing laundry, making lunches, and not much else. I haven't even read the paper.
Z can really communicate now. On Friday I got home and she ran to the door to meet me. "Mama! Broke! I broke it!" "What did you break, honey?" "Necklace." I walked with her into the living room and asked Sweetie "Did she really break a necklace of mine?" He pointed to a plastic bracelet, its beads sitting unstrung on the coffee table. I turned back to her. "That's okay Sweetie. Mommy doesn't mind. Thank you for telling me." She said "I'm sorry."
According to my mom, they went to their first Spanish for toddlers class on Thursday. Zadie was wandering around, not paying much attention, but then the teacher started using props. Here's Mom's email: "Zadie did crack everyone up repeatedly because she kept shouting out instructions to Jackie, the teacher. When she got out an illustrated board and held it up, Zadie yelled out "put it down." Then when she brought a bin filled with things, Zadie shouted "open it." She pretty much did it every time Jackie brought anything new out. Then during "Itsy Bitsy Spider," Z walked over and plopped down in Jackie's lap."
Right now, she's on amoxicillin for an ear infection. I asked Mom to take Z to the doctor if she heard more wheezing (which Sweetie and I noticed in the middle of the night one night). She did, so they got in to the doctor on Wednesday. The doctor found the ear infection (which I hadn't even suspected) and gave her an inhaler for the wheezing, which Zadie was not doing at the appointment. She also hasn't wheezed since then, so I think it's no big deal, but I'm glad we have the inhaler now just in case.
Okay, Z is asleep on my lap, so I'm going to check on my sweet potatoes and probably lay down myself.
On Saturday, we woke up at 6:30, made a pot of coffee, and started getting ready for a multi-family yard sale. Almost all we had to sell were books, but in the first hour or so of the sale, we were the only ones who sold anything. In fact, we'd made fifty bucks by about 9, when everyone else hadn't made anything! Z and I walked to the store and bought bagels and cream cheese and set up the toaster in our front yard, so everyone else came over and ate bagels with us. Sales slowed down after that, but there was one guy who bought a TON of Sweetie's gaming books. I personally exercised restraint in not purchasing chaps or a wetsuit from my neighbors.
Then at 11:30, I got the baby set to go to Grandma's and we left. I dropped Z off and went to Deeda salon to get my hair cut and colored. I loved (no, I mean LOVED) my old stylist, but she was sort of slow, so I'm getting used to my new stylist, and I appreciate getting out in two hours. Anyway, I went a little lighter and feel a LOT better, like my skin looks brighter and everything. I like other colors on me, and I know my natural color is somewhere on the brown scale, but I still feel blonde.
When we got back, everyone had cleaned up the yard sale offerings and we were on to the "block party" part of the day. My neighbors had set up several tables and chairs and a grill in their yard, and we all commenced to take food over. We ate sausages (Tofurkey for me), tofu, homemade bread, spinach dip, chips and salsa and guacamole, several kinds of salad (my sweet potato salad won accolades), and finally cookies. We also caught up on the neighborhood gossip, the most interesting piece of which was (for me) that our crazy-lawn-lady neighbor who defaulted on her mortgage has been LIVING NEXT DOOR to her old house the entire time! The woman we used to see outside every morning obsessing over her yard has been parking in the garage and coming and going on the sly. Weird. Really weird.
At about 5:30, I went inside to change clothes and change the baby (who was covered in watermelon juice), and shortly thereafter Monkeygirl came by so we could go to poker night together. We loaded up our jalapeno poppers (so hot i could barely eat them!), stopped and bought a pie, then headed to D and S's house. Two or three times a year, we go over there to play poker (none of us are very good, but at least S remembers the rules and etiquette -- the rest of us have to consult cheat sheets to determine whether a straight is better than a full house). We always have great food and great conversations and games, but we have sometimes complained about the musical selections, as our tastes cal be very different. To alleviate this and make a game of it, S sent us all an email asking for our "Desert Island Discs," and he made a playlist of them. Then he created a spreadsheet so we could guess whose song was whose and keep track. It ended up being SO fun! I got two of my own wrong, unbelievably (I put "Redemption Song" as Sweetie's, when it was mine, and thought the Beach Boys' "God Only Knows" was mine, when it was actually Monkeygirl's!). We also had some hints, such as when someone mentioned a Linda Ronstadt song on the list and D said "It's the most beautiful song in the WORLD!" We also intentionally confused each other, as when three of us all sang along to a song none of us had chosen. The tricky ones were ones like Joni Mitchell -- S and I are both huge fans. And there were two Nirvanas and two Talking Heads. How do you choose whether someone is more "And She Was" or more ''Take Me to the River?"
D is the sweetest hostess: she bought a set of blocks so Zadie would have something to play with at her house that was different than her toys at home. How thoughtful, right?
Today I'm taking it easy -- finishing laundry, making lunches, and not much else. I haven't even read the paper.
Z can really communicate now. On Friday I got home and she ran to the door to meet me. "Mama! Broke! I broke it!" "What did you break, honey?" "Necklace." I walked with her into the living room and asked Sweetie "Did she really break a necklace of mine?" He pointed to a plastic bracelet, its beads sitting unstrung on the coffee table. I turned back to her. "That's okay Sweetie. Mommy doesn't mind. Thank you for telling me." She said "I'm sorry."
According to my mom, they went to their first Spanish for toddlers class on Thursday. Zadie was wandering around, not paying much attention, but then the teacher started using props. Here's Mom's email: "Zadie did crack everyone up repeatedly because she kept shouting out instructions to Jackie, the teacher. When she got out an illustrated board and held it up, Zadie yelled out "put it down." Then when she brought a bin filled with things, Zadie shouted "open it." She pretty much did it every time Jackie brought anything new out. Then during "Itsy Bitsy Spider," Z walked over and plopped down in Jackie's lap."
Right now, she's on amoxicillin for an ear infection. I asked Mom to take Z to the doctor if she heard more wheezing (which Sweetie and I noticed in the middle of the night one night). She did, so they got in to the doctor on Wednesday. The doctor found the ear infection (which I hadn't even suspected) and gave her an inhaler for the wheezing, which Zadie was not doing at the appointment. She also hasn't wheezed since then, so I think it's no big deal, but I'm glad we have the inhaler now just in case.
Okay, Z is asleep on my lap, so I'm going to check on my sweet potatoes and probably lay down myself.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
School, second Saturday, stuff
There's not too much to report. School is going well. The IB classes are apparently quite freaked out about how hard my class is, which is odd, I think. But I guess they're having grade freak-outs. I have one girl who's never had a B before, and she keeps asking me how she could improve it and get it to an A. Well, I've given her some hints, but the truth is, an A is very difficult to achieve in such a class -- there's no coasting anymore. And colleges appreciate that IB classes are rigorous and know that a B here equals an A in another class. In fact, they even factor it into your GPA. But some students would rather get an easy A in a class that doesn't challenge them. I like these kids, but I don't like that attitude.
We went to Second Saturday last night. I love taking Zadie -- we got to see about five live bands, a performance by members of the Sacramento ballet, several art galleries, and a parade. There's an area where crafters gather, and I took Zadie over and was fussing over some pretty jewelry. The woman whose table it was said "I have children's bracelets." They were only a dollar, and I wanted one for Zadie, but didn't have any cash. I told her I didn't, and that I'd even given my change away this week (my kids were selling papers to benefit Shriner's hospital, and they were also collecting funds for Unicef, so while I'd usually have a buck in change, I didn't). I also asked whether she'd be there next month. But Zadie had been flirting with her, and she insisted we take one. So we got a free bracelet! Which totally made up for being called an asshole when a guy turned left in front of me without signaling (and no, I'm not sure how that makes ME the asshole).
Zadie's feeling better than she was earlier in the week, although she still has a stuffy/runny nose. My favorite moment this week was when I used the snot-sucker (bulb aspirator) on her. She HATED it, and was crying. I said to her imploringly "But Zadie, we got lots of yucky snot out of your nose." She replied very firmly, "Put it back!"
Oddly, last night all of a sudden I wasn't feeling well. I rarely get sick, but I definitely knew something was off in the gastrointestinal department. I waited with a magazine for something bad to happen, then finally threw up. I hate throwing up, so I was initially still a little crabby and grossed out, but I went to bed, and when I woke up a few hours later, I took stock and discovered that I felt just fine -- 100 percent better in fact. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have eaten the hummus that sat out at a potluck for several hours. I think my body just decided to get rid of that, though, and then everything was fine.
Sunday mornings are lovely. Sweetie made coffee and I made waffles. Z got covered in jam. I am reading the paper and she has fallen asleep nursing after taking a shower with her daddy. Later, we'll plant our winter veggie garden (I picked up broccoli, cauliflower, brussels sprouts, and onions at Tallini's nursery). Then it's dinner with Mom.
By the way, I don't usually talk about TV on here, but there are a few shows I follow. I recently caught the first episode of "Community" and I laughed so hard I was afraid I'd wake the baby. Since then, I haven't seen it on TV (it's apparently on Thursday nights), but they have full episodes on the NBC web site. I've watched every one so far, and I still keep cracking up. The last episode makes fun of a hacky-sack-playing hippie who'll take his shirt of at the drop of a hat, and there's a part where a woman gets him to take his shirt off so she can make fun of his tiny nipples... maybe you had to be there. Anyway, if you're looking for a new show, I highly recommend it.
We went to Second Saturday last night. I love taking Zadie -- we got to see about five live bands, a performance by members of the Sacramento ballet, several art galleries, and a parade. There's an area where crafters gather, and I took Zadie over and was fussing over some pretty jewelry. The woman whose table it was said "I have children's bracelets." They were only a dollar, and I wanted one for Zadie, but didn't have any cash. I told her I didn't, and that I'd even given my change away this week (my kids were selling papers to benefit Shriner's hospital, and they were also collecting funds for Unicef, so while I'd usually have a buck in change, I didn't). I also asked whether she'd be there next month. But Zadie had been flirting with her, and she insisted we take one. So we got a free bracelet! Which totally made up for being called an asshole when a guy turned left in front of me without signaling (and no, I'm not sure how that makes ME the asshole).
Zadie's feeling better than she was earlier in the week, although she still has a stuffy/runny nose. My favorite moment this week was when I used the snot-sucker (bulb aspirator) on her. She HATED it, and was crying. I said to her imploringly "But Zadie, we got lots of yucky snot out of your nose." She replied very firmly, "Put it back!"
Oddly, last night all of a sudden I wasn't feeling well. I rarely get sick, but I definitely knew something was off in the gastrointestinal department. I waited with a magazine for something bad to happen, then finally threw up. I hate throwing up, so I was initially still a little crabby and grossed out, but I went to bed, and when I woke up a few hours later, I took stock and discovered that I felt just fine -- 100 percent better in fact. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have eaten the hummus that sat out at a potluck for several hours. I think my body just decided to get rid of that, though, and then everything was fine.
Sunday mornings are lovely. Sweetie made coffee and I made waffles. Z got covered in jam. I am reading the paper and she has fallen asleep nursing after taking a shower with her daddy. Later, we'll plant our winter veggie garden (I picked up broccoli, cauliflower, brussels sprouts, and onions at Tallini's nursery). Then it's dinner with Mom.
By the way, I don't usually talk about TV on here, but there are a few shows I follow. I recently caught the first episode of "Community" and I laughed so hard I was afraid I'd wake the baby. Since then, I haven't seen it on TV (it's apparently on Thursday nights), but they have full episodes on the NBC web site. I've watched every one so far, and I still keep cracking up. The last episode makes fun of a hacky-sack-playing hippie who'll take his shirt of at the drop of a hat, and there's a part where a woman gets him to take his shirt off so she can make fun of his tiny nipples... maybe you had to be there. Anyway, if you're looking for a new show, I highly recommend it.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
I hear... the secrets that you keep. When you're talking in your sleep.
The odd punctuation there is because that's a song lyric from a song that's been stuck in my head for nigh on 25 years.
Anyway, Z-girl is sick. She slept poorly last night, was tired all day, then wanted to do nothing but nurse and cuddle all afternoon and evening. Normally she asks to read books, go outdoors, watch Yo Gabba Gabba, etc. Finally, right around her bedtime, it occurred to me that she was really hot. I took her temperature and it was 102.7, which is just shy of "call the doctor." We gave her Tylenol, then, on Mom's advice, a lukewarm bath. Her temperature went down to 101.1. She still wasn't ready for me to put her to bed, so we cuddled until she fell fast asleep at nine.
I also thought I'd tell you that she's been really funny in the middle of the night. She talks in her sleep -- mostly babbles, but some words. But last night she was wide awake when she woke up at 3:30. I went in and she said "Mommy wake up." I said "Mommy woke up." She repeated "Mommy woke up." Then she went on. "Mommy naked. Mommy cute. Mommy is cute. Mommy's a woman. Booby time!" (For the record, I usually do sleep naked, but it was cold last night, so I had jammies on.)
During our cool bath tonight she played with a GI Joe. "Joe swimming. Joe splashing. Joe sit." Then she leaned over to drink the water. I offered to get her a cup of water. "Do you want some nice clean water in a cup?" "No." Sweetie then asked "Do you want to drink yucky poo-water?" "Uh huh."
Oh, I'm so tired I can't think of a conclusion. All last night as I lay with her, I would just drift off and she'd start talking again. I appreciated the flattery, though.
Anyway, Z-girl is sick. She slept poorly last night, was tired all day, then wanted to do nothing but nurse and cuddle all afternoon and evening. Normally she asks to read books, go outdoors, watch Yo Gabba Gabba, etc. Finally, right around her bedtime, it occurred to me that she was really hot. I took her temperature and it was 102.7, which is just shy of "call the doctor." We gave her Tylenol, then, on Mom's advice, a lukewarm bath. Her temperature went down to 101.1. She still wasn't ready for me to put her to bed, so we cuddled until she fell fast asleep at nine.
I also thought I'd tell you that she's been really funny in the middle of the night. She talks in her sleep -- mostly babbles, but some words. But last night she was wide awake when she woke up at 3:30. I went in and she said "Mommy wake up." I said "Mommy woke up." She repeated "Mommy woke up." Then she went on. "Mommy naked. Mommy cute. Mommy is cute. Mommy's a woman. Booby time!" (For the record, I usually do sleep naked, but it was cold last night, so I had jammies on.)
During our cool bath tonight she played with a GI Joe. "Joe swimming. Joe splashing. Joe sit." Then she leaned over to drink the water. I offered to get her a cup of water. "Do you want some nice clean water in a cup?" "No." Sweetie then asked "Do you want to drink yucky poo-water?" "Uh huh."
Oh, I'm so tired I can't think of a conclusion. All last night as I lay with her, I would just drift off and she'd start talking again. I appreciated the flattery, though.
Monday, October 05, 2009
She's cute, huh?
IMG_0612
Originally uploaded by countmockula
Tonight she was digging in the cat food and came out with a handful. I said "Zadie, you know you're not supposed to play with the cat food." She replied, "Mina want it! I give!" Already coming up with excuses...
Sunday, October 04, 2009
Saturday, October 03, 2009
More of the awesome kid.
Last night Zadie said "Mommy, hang out with you?"
She often will trade off counting to ten with us. Today Sweetie tried to start it by saying "One" and she answered "twothreefourfivesixseven!"
I think six words is her longest sentence. That was "Mommy, sing 'oh the water' song." (That would be Van Morrison's "And it Stoned Me."
She sang along with the Talking Heads today. I couldn't be more proud. It was "Take me to the river."
Today she pointed at the name on our neighbors' Volvo and pointed at the first two letters, saying "V-O, V-O." (I had told her it was an O, but she apparently recognized the V.)
Last night at Maalouf's, she was really at her most charming, and she tried to say everything we or the Maaloufs asked her to, including "Habibi." (I have no idea what that means.) But for some reason, she got stuck on telling everyone that "Mommy's a woman." In fact, for a while, it was all she would say, and she wasn't using her indoor voice, either. "MOMMY'S A WOMAN!"
I hope Grandma doesn't mind me telling this story, but I got the biggest laugh out of it (and a lesson, to boot). I guess they were at the park, and Zadie wandered away from where all the people were. Grandma, suffering the same affliction I do (terrible gas), used the opportunity to let one go. Whereupon Zadie ran back to where all the people were yelling "Grandma toot! Grandma TOOOOOOT!!"
Also, I emailed this to myself the other day since I can no longer blog at work:
Zadie has crossed some invisible line between "very verbal" and total chatterbox. This morning from the time she woke up until we settled on the couch to nurse, she was having a conversation with me.
"Change diaper. Pee-pee. Jammies off. I'm cold. Clothes on. Shirt on. Daddy cold?"
We went into the kitchen and she saw the fridge magnets.
"Who's that?"
"The Mad Hatter."
"Hold it! Baby carry. He's upside-down. Who's that?"
"It's the Mad Hatter. Alice in Wonderland goes to his party and they drink tea."
"Iced tea? Baby drink tea. Mommy sing Alice song. Yay!"
I start preparing breakfast.
"Baby drink coffee. Baby eat oatmeal. Raisins."
We go to the couch.
"More booby! Other one!"
I'm sure in a few years it'll drive me crazy, but for now, I just love hearing her get to know her world.
She often will trade off counting to ten with us. Today Sweetie tried to start it by saying "One" and she answered "twothreefourfivesixseven!"
I think six words is her longest sentence. That was "Mommy, sing 'oh the water' song." (That would be Van Morrison's "And it Stoned Me."
She sang along with the Talking Heads today. I couldn't be more proud. It was "Take me to the river."
Today she pointed at the name on our neighbors' Volvo and pointed at the first two letters, saying "V-O, V-O." (I had told her it was an O, but she apparently recognized the V.)
Last night at Maalouf's, she was really at her most charming, and she tried to say everything we or the Maaloufs asked her to, including "Habibi." (I have no idea what that means.) But for some reason, she got stuck on telling everyone that "Mommy's a woman." In fact, for a while, it was all she would say, and she wasn't using her indoor voice, either. "MOMMY'S A WOMAN!"
I hope Grandma doesn't mind me telling this story, but I got the biggest laugh out of it (and a lesson, to boot). I guess they were at the park, and Zadie wandered away from where all the people were. Grandma, suffering the same affliction I do (terrible gas), used the opportunity to let one go. Whereupon Zadie ran back to where all the people were yelling "Grandma toot! Grandma TOOOOOOT!!"
Also, I emailed this to myself the other day since I can no longer blog at work:
Zadie has crossed some invisible line between "very verbal" and total chatterbox. This morning from the time she woke up until we settled on the couch to nurse, she was having a conversation with me.
"Change diaper. Pee-pee. Jammies off. I'm cold. Clothes on. Shirt on. Daddy cold?"
We went into the kitchen and she saw the fridge magnets.
"Who's that?"
"The Mad Hatter."
"Hold it! Baby carry. He's upside-down. Who's that?"
"It's the Mad Hatter. Alice in Wonderland goes to his party and they drink tea."
"Iced tea? Baby drink tea. Mommy sing Alice song. Yay!"
I start preparing breakfast.
"Baby drink coffee. Baby eat oatmeal. Raisins."
We go to the couch.
"More booby! Other one!"
I'm sure in a few years it'll drive me crazy, but for now, I just love hearing her get to know her world.
Random Z pics and a lovely dinner
She requested a bath the other night and afterward I wrapped her in this towel. I don't know why she's mean-mugging.
Inside Daddy's shirt.
Sleeping family.
In their Arsenal gear.
I think she looks like a Hollywood starlet avoiding the paparazzi.
The bad news. Zadie has had really bad hives for over a week. I asked her doctor about it, and she said if they don't seem to bother Zadie, we should just leave well enough alone. She doesn't seem to notice them, but they look awful!
I roasted these, added garlic and rosemary, a little salt, water, and rosemary. I pureed it all and served it with basil and parmesan. Yum.
Inside Daddy's shirt.
Sleeping family.
In their Arsenal gear.
I think she looks like a Hollywood starlet avoiding the paparazzi.
The bad news. Zadie has had really bad hives for over a week. I asked her doctor about it, and she said if they don't seem to bother Zadie, we should just leave well enough alone. She doesn't seem to notice them, but they look awful!
I roasted these, added garlic and rosemary, a little salt, water, and rosemary. I pureed it all and served it with basil and parmesan. Yum.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Talk about exciting!
Zadie and I went to the shopping center by our house to buy a lottery ticket (blame Sweetie) and get an ice cream cone each. I finished mine and decided we would walk home while Zadie finished hers. Just as we were leaving the parking lot, Zadie said "siren." I said, "Oh you hear sirens? Mama hears them too. Do you also hear the helicopter?"
I wasn't really thinking anything was amiss, even as the sirens got closer and closer. Sirens go down Folsom Boulevard by our house all the time. And there's a freeway very nearby -- helicopters circle that regularly. So even as they got almost to us, I still thought nothing of it.
But then I heard an engine running curiously high. I looked behind me and saw a sporty blue Ford going about 80 down the street towards us. I pulled Zadie's stroller up onto the lawn we were next to on instinct, then watched as the Ford tried to turn the corner in front of us. And failed. We heard a huge crash, and almost instantly, about twenty cop cars pulled up, slammed on the brakes, and cops started getting out and running into people's backyards. I saw a K9 unit get the dog out. Then nothing much happened for a few minutes. I thought it might be safe to get a little closer.
Then every cop on the street shouldered a shotgun. I backed off two houses and got behind a car. More cops came, including two undercovers and two more K9s. From where we were, we couldn't figure out what was going on. After everything seemed to die down a bit, I finally went the long way around back to our house.
I checked back in with Sweetie, who had just come from the other side of the scene, and decided to check it out from there, too. From there, I saw what had happened -- the car had crashed into a house. Luckily, the owner wasn't home. My neighbor is friends with him and said he frequently sits on the porch and has a glass of wine.
I also found out (all hearsay) that they took the guy away in an ambulance with his leg all bound up, that the police found a big bag of money, and that he initially jumped one fence, only to find that in the backyard was a cinderblock noise wall about twelve feet high. So he jumped the fence into the neighbors' backyard and ran into their house. The people inside ran out front and yelled "he's in here, he's in here!" That's where the police got him. The suspicion is that his leg wound was from the K9 unit.
One funny-ish thing was that I was watching as the people in the house next to the corner (the one the guy went into) were getting a Schwan's delivery (groceries). They were talking to the Schwan's guy when the Ford came roaring around the corner and the Schwan's guy got out of the way FAST.
Another funny-ish thing was the woman who pulled up after a few minutes. She got out of her car and started marching toward the scene. Someone asked what she was doing, and she said "he almost hit me on Watt Avenue* and I followed the chase all the way here!" We asked why. She said "Because I'm pissed! And I'm nosy!" and she kept marching.
Two news cameras showed up after a few minutes, but I don't think anyone realized I was an eyewitness, so I just hung back and didn't say anything. Almost everyone else had just wandered over after hearing the commotion. I thought about talking to the cops, but I didn't think I had anything useful to add. "You were chasing him, and he crashed!" I mean, duh.
So that was our big adventure tonight.
I wasn't really thinking anything was amiss, even as the sirens got closer and closer. Sirens go down Folsom Boulevard by our house all the time. And there's a freeway very nearby -- helicopters circle that regularly. So even as they got almost to us, I still thought nothing of it.
But then I heard an engine running curiously high. I looked behind me and saw a sporty blue Ford going about 80 down the street towards us. I pulled Zadie's stroller up onto the lawn we were next to on instinct, then watched as the Ford tried to turn the corner in front of us. And failed. We heard a huge crash, and almost instantly, about twenty cop cars pulled up, slammed on the brakes, and cops started getting out and running into people's backyards. I saw a K9 unit get the dog out. Then nothing much happened for a few minutes. I thought it might be safe to get a little closer.
Then every cop on the street shouldered a shotgun. I backed off two houses and got behind a car. More cops came, including two undercovers and two more K9s. From where we were, we couldn't figure out what was going on. After everything seemed to die down a bit, I finally went the long way around back to our house.
I checked back in with Sweetie, who had just come from the other side of the scene, and decided to check it out from there, too. From there, I saw what had happened -- the car had crashed into a house. Luckily, the owner wasn't home. My neighbor is friends with him and said he frequently sits on the porch and has a glass of wine.
I also found out (all hearsay) that they took the guy away in an ambulance with his leg all bound up, that the police found a big bag of money, and that he initially jumped one fence, only to find that in the backyard was a cinderblock noise wall about twelve feet high. So he jumped the fence into the neighbors' backyard and ran into their house. The people inside ran out front and yelled "he's in here, he's in here!" That's where the police got him. The suspicion is that his leg wound was from the K9 unit.
One funny-ish thing was that I was watching as the people in the house next to the corner (the one the guy went into) were getting a Schwan's delivery (groceries). They were talking to the Schwan's guy when the Ford came roaring around the corner and the Schwan's guy got out of the way FAST.
Another funny-ish thing was the woman who pulled up after a few minutes. She got out of her car and started marching toward the scene. Someone asked what she was doing, and she said "he almost hit me on Watt Avenue* and I followed the chase all the way here!" We asked why. She said "Because I'm pissed! And I'm nosy!" and she kept marching.
Two news cameras showed up after a few minutes, but I don't think anyone realized I was an eyewitness, so I just hung back and didn't say anything. Almost everyone else had just wandered over after hearing the commotion. I thought about talking to the cops, but I didn't think I had anything useful to add. "You were chasing him, and he crashed!" I mean, duh.
So that was our big adventure tonight.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Fall fashion
Z has almost no Fall/Winter clothes, so I bought her just a few last weekend. I finally got around to washing them, so we had a fashion show this morning.
Probable Thanksgiving dress:
Autumn colors:
A little mod.
Just a cute close-up.
Sweetie took this of her watching Yo Gabba Gabba. Look how rapt she is!
I made her a new winter hat. I'm going to secure the flower better so it's not so goofy-looking.
Probable Thanksgiving dress:
Autumn colors:
A little mod.
Just a cute close-up.
Sweetie took this of her watching Yo Gabba Gabba. Look how rapt she is!
I made her a new winter hat. I'm going to secure the flower better so it's not so goofy-looking.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
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