Please don’t choke on the dust I leave behind

What was last Sunday? I can’t remember. Easter? Really? You wanted Easter pictures? You’ve been incessantly checking the blog on the off chance you might see a picture of a little person and an egg? And possibly his car shaped Easter basket? Fine. Here:

Landon and I found 5 eggs. Alas they were not golden or silver (aka money havin’). For his last egg, I sat him down for a photo op. And Ethan came by and snatched his egg right from between his legs. What? It’s not like he had picked it up yet or anything, that makes it fair game, right? Ethan’s mom made him give it back, and in the spirit of generosity Ethan gave an extra egg as well, and as he was about to empty his basket one by one into Landon’s, his Mom said “I just wanted you to give back the one you stole, not all of them!” The lessons a 2 year old has to learn. When to share, when not to share, righting a wrong, but not OVER-righting a wrong. To tell the truth, I don’t think Landon even cared about the missing egg. What the heck is the green stuff? It’s fun to grab and pull on, I wonder how it tastes.

And a picture of eleventy billion people in my front yard.

Easter by the #s

204 plastic eggs
30 boiled eggs
8 hunters
2 gallon bags of leftover candy
1 unfound egg

This weekend will be a milestone. This weekend will determine just what kind of neurotic mother I may be. Do I call and check in on him? Do I just assume everything is fine so long as I don’t get a call? I have a wedding on Saturday night in League City. I’m also in the wedding and thus must be a part of the rehearsal festivities. I’m also going to sleep under a different roof than my son for the very first time ever. For 2 nights. In a row. I can’t say I’m not worried about it (not that I’m leaving him with anyone I’m worried about), but I’m totally looking forward to the possibility of 2 full nights of sleep and 48 hours sans 17 lbs of squirmy butt in my arms. If you happen to be in or around LJ early Friday afternoon, don’t mind the sound of screeching tires and the smell of burnt rubber. Likewise, you will probably need to get out of my way on Sunday morning.

New foods

I still remember being on the playground at recess during either 4th or 5th grade talking to all the kids about how they liked or disliked certain foods. The consensus by nearly all of them was that liver and onions were disgusting. This however was not a conclusion I was able to draw, seeing as I had never actually eaten liver and onions, I just assumed they would be gross. But that day I went home and told mom that I would like to try liver and onions, because if I was going to complain about them, I needed to have some actual experience with them. She, not being a fan of liver and onions didn’t have any on hand, so she took me to Kroger where we only found chicken livers. I can’t remember whether they were any good or not, but they must not have been good enough to request again, because I never had them after that. To this day I have still never eaten liver, and I probably never will, because when my roommate in college came home from her food safety class she was required to take to work at McDonalds, she announced “when you boil liver, you have to be really careful because the water that remains is urine.” It was then that I came to the conclusion that eating the filter on an animal that cleans out the crap that the animal’s body didn’t think was good enough to digest, is probably not the smartest move anyway.

We ate plenty of vegetables as kids, but most of my “exotic” vegetable experiences were at other people’s houses. I ate my first asparagus at Mrs. Cox’s house, and my first artichoke at the Blankenship’s. (Yes, I just classified asparagus and artichokes as exotic – they were pretty exotic for the 80s.) My guess is that my mother just assumed that as a kid, I wouldn’t like these things and never messed with them, and then I came home and said “Hey, I tried asparagus and I liked it!” And she looked at me like I was crazy, but then occasionally we had asparagus after that.

About 2 years ago, I decided to try new foods, or re-try old foods, to see if my palate had changed. Quite honestly it started when I went to Julie’s rehearsal dinner and ate some very tasty things, I’m almost positive I never would have ordered myself. Since then I have been watching the food network and trying things at parties I might have otherwise passed over. I have introduced into my diet several pretty healthful options: mixed baby greens, non-ranch salad dressings, fresh herbs, and gnocchi. I even tried Indian food and I liked it!

Fast forward to today when I read “make sure to give your child a variety of foods, even ones you may not like, because he may like them.” So I look down the list of foods he’s going to get to try in pureed form (at 4 day intervals to watch for allergic reactions), and I only see two that I don’t like: cabbage and peaches. I can eat fresh cabbage, but cooked cabbage – blegh. Peaches, well I can see where people might like them, but I’m not a fan. Well, they also have Apricots on there, and maybe I’m misinformed, but apricots = peaches to me. And beets, once again, I cannot weigh in on the subject, as I’ve never had them. Maybe he’ll let me have a taste of his.

I’d like him to be adventurous with his food choices, and am willing to try new things right along side him…I’ve never had brussel sprouts or rutabaga either. And although I won’t eat them, I will totally fix him fish sticks. Should he come home one day and tell me how all the kids were complaining about liver and onions I will totally take him to Luby’s, because I don’t cook with urine.

Monthly Newsletter #6

Dear Landon,

This month’s newsletter has been particularly hard to write. It’s been a rough month for me, and let’s leave it at that. I generally start about a week before and try to keep track of changes you’ve made over the month. I haven’t really seen many changes this month. You sit up somewhat, but still need assistance – because you just fall over backwards if the wind hits you just right. You scoot backwards, so I fully expect to be chasing you down within the next couple weeks as you crawl away. But, other than that, you’re pretty much your 5 month old self, only 6 months old now.
You’re beginning to recognize things you see regularly and associate them with what that means for you. Your bathing suit and your float for the pool are both very exciting. And woe be to the person who shows you one or the other without actually putting them to use.
People are starting to ask when we’re going to have another one – as if you’re not a handful in your own rite. I need another baby, like I need a hole in my head. Your campaign to be an only child has been pretty successful so far.
Last night was our first attempt at solid foods. Well, semi-solid…ok – different liquid. It seems that you loved the idea of eating, but were not so much with the actual swallowing. It’s much more fun to blow bubbles into the spoon as it reaches your mouth, or better yet, wait until a spoonful is in your mouth and raspberry it out on the unsuspecting soul who put it in there.

Your doctor’s appointment went well this afternoon. You are 16 lbs 13.5 oz(somewhere between 25% and 50%), 25.5 inches tall (25%) and have a 50th percentile head. The doctor said that he expects kids your age to slow in growth and that everything is normal and you look fine and we’ll be continuing on our quest to add to your diet. Wish me luck.

Love,

Mom

Clear as Mud

When last we spoke, our heroine was whining about cheese and milk. And she asked for your donation suggestions. And we received 5 very thoughtful suggestions. I was going to put it up for a poll, but I think we’ve just decided that the Children's Art Project is who I’ll write the check out to. The other charities are really cool, and I will keep them in mind for future donations.

While other bloggers ate in all month, or ate cereal to save money, I thought I could save more money by doing what I normally do anyway. (Here’s where the water starts getting murky, but bear with me.) I have a very extensive budget. So extensive in fact, that I can tell you now if I spent $200 on something frivolous, if it will put us in the hole in December of 2009. That’s true and not true at the same time though, because I under estimate our income from our pay checks, we always get an income tax refund, which is not put in there, when we get rebates, they are deposited in there. And I over estimate our bills, sometimes by $5 or so, sometimes by as much as $100. It’s not fool-proof by any means, groceries and gas are not accounted for, and neither are general household purchases like furniture. Our normally frivolous stuff like eating out or CDs or DVDs comes out of our allowance. Anyway, back to the point. In my normal monthly routine, I take half of the difference between the estimated bill and the real bill and put it in savings.

Estimated Bill = $350
Actual Bill = $300
Difference = $50
Into Savings = $25

And this month, I will be taking half of the sum of the savings amount and writing the check to the Children's Art Project, in the example above, $12.50 would go to the charity.

This month I was able to collect $50 that way. It’s not much, but $50 is more than I’ve donated to any other charity at one time before.

Oy with the poodles already!

Enough with the drama of last week…well, the drama of last Wednesday. I don’t like drama. I don’t like it one bit. I do not like it, Sam, I am. The final straw, so to speak, of drama turned me into a puddle of weepy madness on my kitchen floor yesterday when I got home from work.

So, we were headed to a meat market in Santa Fe Wednesday night after work, and I went home to meet Clint before going to pick up Landon, so we could go straight there. I walked in the back door, and..hey, what’s that light over there…OH MY GOD IT’S THE FREEZER!!! I left the freezer drawer open just enough to thaw everything in there….everything. Ice cream, shrimp, ground beef, pork chops, bacon, chicken, some brisket (thankfully not a whole brisket), some smoked chicken, a bag of ice, frozen veggies, popsicles…oh, what’s that on the floor…dripping…purple stainey-ness all down the grout line across the kitchen floor…that would be my thawed blackberries…nice. That’s annoying enough to clean up. Apparently Scrubbing Bubbles spray, poured on the grout line seriously cleaned that up in minutes without scrubbing. Also ruined a couple of towels by bleaching them with the scrubbing bubbles stuff, but I kind of expected that.

The thing that made me cry into my towel as I wiped the floor of blackberry juice/scrubbing bubbles cocktail, the golden ticket, the one thing that I have been dutifully saving for 2 whole months…my basket of frozen breastmilk…thawed..completely. Much like everything else in the freezer…it cannot be re-frozen. I still haven’t poured it down the drain… it’s hard enough to look at the basket of little baggies, I haven’t been able to bring myself to touch them, because I know I will count them, and then I will know exactly how much was wasted. Without knowing, I can think “all that wasted time and effort,” and it’s still abstract, like it could be 3 hours, it could be 14 hours. After I count them, I will know, I’m sure it will be more than I envisioned. It was enough to leave him over the weekend for Jennifer’s wedding with my mother, I was worried about having enough and began the process of stockpiling to be sure. I have 2 weeks to replace it. And hopefully I will have enough.

It took me a good 3 hours to get over it. Well, not over it, but I’m not as mopey about it as I was. Plans abound, last night I set a second alarm clock to go off every 3 hours, whether Landon woke or not, I pumped, I didn’t get much, but the more I do it, the more I’ll have. He’s turning 6 months this week, so with the introduction of cereal this week, we’ll get to store some that he normally would eat during those feeding times. I think I can make it…I think I can , I think I can.

He’s mad too:

No Words

Grandma Attractor 3000

Do you find yourself needing a Grandma to talk to, not necessarily yours, or your child’s, but an extra Grandma? Do you often walk the aisles at your local box store thinking… “if only someone a little older, female, and possibly with gray hair would talk to me, I would be happy?”

Worry no more. Have I got the solution for you!!

A tidy package, weighing in at under 20 lbs, what you need is the Grandma Attractor 3000.

Features include:
Attracting most Grandmothers within a 20 foot radius, or within eyesight.
Emitting a delicious aroma, which lures Grandmas, even on different aisles.
Heart melting smiles and giggles.

Conversations include, but are not limited to:
Age – “When my son was….” Or “My Grandson is that age.”
Model details – “What is his name?” “Oh, what a lovely name!”
Size – “Oh, he’s so big!”
Demeanor – “What a sweet little boy!” “He’s so alert!”
Appearance – “What a fine-looking young lad!”
Milestones – “Is he [XYZ]ing yet?”

You’ll hear these gems over and over again:
“What a cutie!”
“I have to tell you, that your [Grandma Attractor 3000] is beautiful.”
“Oh, how precious!”

All this can be yours, for the low low price, of every last cent of your “extra” income from here to eternity – or at least for the next 18 years.


Accessories sold separately, owner’s manual not included, not responsible for tardiness due to having to stop and actually hold conversations with said Grandmas, void where prohibited, 18 years is a low estimate for pricing. Grandma allure may wear off during certain times of development, and most certainly will not be as cute at home as when out in public. Grandma Attractor 3000 has also been known to attract others who own their own Grandma Attractor, and lead to conversations as well. Ask your doctor if the Grandma Attractor 3000 is right for you.

One week, Uncensored

You would think the insides of a tomato would be juicy and gooey and seedy. You’d be wrong. Tomatoes are filled with red sand and stuck with pins. They also have a strawberry attached, in case you want to separate your needles. The amount of sand will lightly cover your entire loft and living room. And they are known enemies of boxers. Ask me how I know! I only wish we had pictures for this.

I had a bridal shower to attend on Saturday. It was 2 houses down from me and I left my invitation at work. But I figured it would be at 2. 2 o’clock seems reasonable, right? I sent Clint off with Landon to Jay’s to go help pick up a deep freeze and generally hang out with them. I didn’t want to be the first one there, so I looked down the street and there were a lot of cars already in the driveway, so I headed on over. It was not at 2, those were the cars of the 6 hostesses. Yep 6. And it was at 3. I showed up at 2 and THEY WOULDN’T LET ME LEAVE. So I listened to a bunch of older ladies talk about their daughter’s pregnancies and what I can only imagine are yippy little dogs, and how embarrassed they are that the girl dog “Abby,” HORROR of HORRORS lifts her leg to pee. They asked how I knew Jennifer and I told them. And then another one asked and I told her, and then another one asked and I told her – even though all these women were in the room EVERY TIME I told the story.

In hanging out with Jay, Clint found out that one of Landon’s favorite toys while over there is a nylon skimmer.

And that Noah has his own slotted spoon. Not to be outdone, I gave him a slotted spoon for home. I don’t even know why we buy toys. That spoon kept him occupied for several hours. It’s a perfectly good pretend guitar, it works well as a dog whacker, sticking your tongue in the slots can be especially fun, and playing it like a bass, also seems logical.


Landon’s maternal grandparents brought the crib bars up, and we got to visit with his great grandmother as well. We took them out to dinner, where he was enthralled with the cooks at the Mongolian BBQ place.

Now that we have the cage crib, we have to transition him to sleep in it. We just got it Sunday, so he has not slept in it yet. We decided to try on a weekend night first, that will give us a few days to try and put stuff up in his room (not that he cares) and possibly buy a rocking chair to replace the one on which we broke a weld. Also, I have to convert the slip cover into cushions for a new one. And if things go horribly awry – at least we won’t have to get up at 5:30am the next morning.

Operation Border Application did not go well.

A New Challenge – Assignment America

This month’s challenge from Beth at Playgroup Dropout is to eat cereal one or two nights a week and use the saved money to donate to a charity of your choice. She’s going to try and not eat out at all for a month and use the saved money to donate, as compared to her previous month’s expenses. She’s also giving us 6 weeks, so we don’t report back until April 2.

Well, I have nothing against cereal, in fact we used to do that in an effort to save money a few years back. My problem now lies in the fact that Landon seems to have a cow’s milk protein allergy. It’s one of the VERY few things that I can eat and that will pass through into my milk. (Nut proteins, caffeine, and alcohol do as well.) We have noticed when I do try and sneak in some form of milk that I suffer for it in the form of inconsolability in Landon. I’m lucky in that, some women even have to give up things like pancakes that are made with milk, in his case, it seems to be the raw milk that’s the issue. I haven’t had more than an ounce of cheese in a 24 hour period in like 2 months – and most days I get none. It’s enough to make a person stop breastfeeding, if she wasn’t so cheap and didn’t want to pay for formula. GOD, I MISS CHEESE. Hello, My name is Kristine, and I’m a cheese-aholic. Not to mention that I miss my daily glass of milk. Oh and Rice Dream (Rice milk’s answer to ice cream) is $7 for a quart – are you FREAKING KIDDING ME?

This is not to say that he will not grow out of it, because chances are, that he will, they say about 20% of infants have this allergy, and grow out of it by the time they are 1. The less of it I drink/eat and the less he eats/drinks of it – the better chance he has of growing out of it – and it just pretty much means keeping him away from cow’s milk and milk products until he’s over one. I’m sure this will prove more difficult as he ventures into “solid” food and people start trying to feed him stuff he’s not supposed to have, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it – just think for a second about the things you eat that you would give a toddler that have milk in them…mashed potatoes, pudding, ice cream, macaroni and cheese, pretty much anything with cheese on it. The mind boggles.

Wait, what was I talking about? Oh right – charity. Yeah, so cereal is out – have you ever eaten cereal with Orange Juice on it? BLEGH. This year, we decided to eat more at home anyway, budgetary constraints – trying to be a little healthier, etc. So I’m already cooking at home more. But I do think I can find some little ways to save. I doubt it will be much, but it will be some, and the idea is that I make a sacrifice in order to give a little. It’s doable.

What I need, are ideas for a charity to which I should donate. Originally this was meant to go to children, so a children’s charity of some kind would be ideal, but I’m open to any suggestions. And now…for “Assignment America” – I need at least 5 suggestions before I post again….so get on it.

Monthly Newsletter #5

Dear Landon,

Every month I take a picture of you specifically for this newsletter and every month I look back at the old ones and I think “Hey, who switched my kid?” You look nothing like any of your pictures from months past. And it’s then that I realize I haven’t been taking you in for professional pictures like other people do. I am going to do my best to have it done for your 6 month picture though. So, quit hounding me about it.


This month has been all about teeth. Teeth and hickeys. It seems that you have no interest whatsoever in your teething ring, it’s much easier and probably more fun to chew on people. Thank goodness I don’t wear a lot of sleeveless shirts out in public, I look like a 16 year old who went necking at make-out point. It doesn’t necessarily have to be people, it can be whatever is handy, like the floater thing in the pool.


Or the dashboard of your car swing. Your dad doesn’t care for the stickers that came with the car, so it looks a little naked right now, but he’s got some ideas he’s kicking around, never fear. (Apparently girls can have princess stickers, but boys are left to advertise for Lowe’s.)


You’ve spent this month staying during the day with Linda and Noah. You and Noah have developed a kind of screaming conversational pattern. You seem to understand each other, in the way that they say twins have their own language. Which is good, because no one else can understand either of you, so at least you have each other.





Your first foray into swimming was the hot tub. We kept the heat kind of low and stuck you in your floaty thing. You had wide eyed shock at first, but once you figured out that everything was nice and cozy in there and that you could lean forward and suck on the float, you were perfectly happy. When Noah came over, we let him use your float, as you were getting a bit tired of it, and you had a wonderful time staring at the bubbles coming up all around us. I can’t wait until it warms up and we can get you out in the main pool kicking around. Noah has the same car float we’re going to get you, so you two can have screamin’ bumper car fun this summer.

Love,
Mom

P.S. We have one more month before you start solid foods, do you think you could work on that sitting up thing? Thanks.

My sincere apologies

Dear Irish Mob,

I am so sorry I neglected the Shamrock Socks in my quest to find a reason to keep the giant footwear hung by my chimney with care. Please forgive me, as I always viewed St. Patrick’s Day as a “Kiss me, I’m Irish” button wearing holiday, and less of a gift giving holiday. Maybe my lack of stockings has kept me from receiving my pot of gold. I sincerely did not intend to anger you. Target has pretty much trained me which upcoming holiday deserves my focus and their decorations tell me that Easter is next. Although now that you mention it, they do have a small green area to the side of all the pastels. Fearing that my pot of gold would not fit in them (as I am now expecting a pot of gold equal to the total of the 27 years I have been skipped over plus this normal one), I put the stockings away this week. The Mystical Leprechaun is welcome to place my pot of gold anywhere he finds space in the living room. Please don’t have me whacked.

Thank you,
Kristine

P.S. – A St. Patrick’s Day peace offering:

A productive, expensive weekend

My brain is scattery – I probably didn’t get enough sleep, this is not the flowy post you’re used to.

Landon’s paternal grandparents were supposed to come this past weekend. But it didn’t work out, so in retaliation we spent a ton of money instead. I can’t remember exactly what we spent money on during our Saturday outing, but I remember telling Clinton that my head was about to explode and we needed to go home before we spent any more money.

We got in the hot tub on Saturday night. Which was nice, and Landon really enjoyed it too.

I had compiled a list of things I wanted to get done, and figured I’d have time, what with the extra entertainment for the dictator, and my arms being free to say…put away the Christmas decorations. Of my list, only one thing got done (and it was not the Christmas decorations, or Valentine’s Day stockings as I’ve been affectionately calling them – I guess that makes them Easter stockings now.) I did finish and submit our taxes. We did get other stuff done and had a very productive weekend anyway.

* We hung Landon’s swing on the back porch.
* We trimmed the sago palms and sprayed them for scale.
* We repotted a plant we got from Julie – oh the irony…it’s a money tree (you’ll see.)
* We repotted a plant I won at Kandi’s bridal shower
* We miracle gro-ed all our potted plants.
* We put Tiki torches around the pool
* We replaced one of the skimmer baskets in the pool
* We sprayed the clear coat on the mosaic armadillo and cow skull

(When I say “We”, it’s code for “I watched while Clint…”)

We spent a lot of time outdoors this Sunday, which was nice, it was a really pretty day. Our goal is to try and do that more often, 1 or 2 nights a week when the weather permits, have dinner outside, and when it warms up, swim a little. Landon seems to really enjoy being outside, and who can blame him?


Anyway, after a weekend of spending money and doing house projects, having done only about half our laundry…our dryer died. Just when Landon had already worn all his feetie pajamas that fit and they were soaking wet in a sad little pile in the bottom of the dryer. It smelled like burnt copper. Apparently that’s what money smells like when it’s leaving you. Clint took the clothes to Jay’s to put them in their dryer, and I picked them up Monday night when I pick up Landon.

Monday night Clint took the whole dryer apart and tested parts of it. Motor is blown, according to the internet a blown motor in a Maytag also means a blown circuit board, and based on prices of parts, even if we could fix it ourselves completely, we’ve almost spent what a new dryer costs. So…we went dryer shopping, and ultimately decided to give it one more day and sleep on it. When we returned to Lowe’s on Tuesday night to make the purchase all the dryers were moved around. Apparently ours is the old model as of Tuesday and therefore $50 cheaper. SWEET!! Finally procrastination works in my favor.

So my cushion in the bank account now looks like a big white box with knobs and a little door. Goodbye, money.

The upside is that maybe this new one will alleviate us of having that faint cat urine smell in the utility room while we dry clothes.

Oh and someone killed a bird and left it on the driveway for us. I don’t want to name names, but I have a few suspects.

(Oh and hey, check out the side bar, I got to delete some stuff!)

Teef

Or toof, anyway. Landon cut his first tooth on the 13th. He’s been drooling since, well – it seems like forever. And his doctor said he’s a little young to be cutting teeth, and that it was probably his salivary glands forming and that he just didn’t have teeth to hold back the saliva. Well, various sites on the internet say between 4 and 7 months. So we’re in that window. The emergence explains quite a few behaviors: the drooling, the facial rash, the fussiness while eating, the weird sleeping patterns and the constant bringing things to his mouth to chew on. Two days ago he started pulling on his ears – which is also a sign of teething, but I was more afraid that it might be an ear infection. Anyway, no ear infection.

The culprit



So we went out and bought the toothpaste for babies and the little rubber finger thingy. Landon LOVES his toothpaste. I squirted a tiny bit on the little finger thing and stuck it in his mouth. As I started trying to maneuver around getting all his gums and the top of the pretty little white tooth, he sucked so hard, that he sucked the little finger glove off my finger.

I fought with him over it while I tried to finish the process, but when I was done, and I took it out of his mouth for good…oh the HORROR!!! How dare I!

The next time didn't seem so traumatic when the toothbrush was taken away:

MACS

Remember that do good thing over in the side bar? Yeah, well, it’s the second Wednesday of the month, so I’m talking about what I did.

I went out and bought valentines to send to the January kids. I signed them and sent them off and I kind of felt like I was cheating, because it was too easy.

So then, we had this little debacle with the Girl Scout Troop meeting for last week, and no one remembered whose turn it was, so I thought – AH HA – perfect timing. This time, we’ll do it for the February kids. So during lunch the day of the meeting I went out and bought Valentine making stuff. I bought blank card thingies, valentiney paper, some foam hearts that stick on, and some stickers. Also some funky scissors, some glue sticks, and some new markers, cause let’s face it, when you have a girl scout troop for 4 years, a $7 package of markers will only last so long. In the girls’ defense, the ones we have left are in pretty good shape – but since I throw away 3 or 4 capless ones each time we use them, their color choices have been decreasing by the meeting. But, I suppose every 3 years I could splurge and buy some new ones.

So I took my newly bought stuff home and went to work. Now I’m not a super duper scrappy booky gal. Landon’s scrapbook is pretty much, the fancy paper and the little black corners – and at the moment, only goes through his first month. But I only had about 10 minutes in which to create a “go by” card, because this evening, I’m going to have my hands full. So I used the first pair of funky scissors I grabbed to cut out a small rectangle and the next pair to cut a smaller rectangle and regular scissors to cut a heart each out of a different paper. I arranged them on top of my card, along with 2 foamy hearts and I got this:


On the inside, I just wrote “Happy Valentine’s Day.” But I think it turned out kind of cute. Here are some pictures of what the girls created. I had them each make 2, they could each pick 2 kids and or 1 kid and take one home. I’m putting them in big envelopes with a letter from the troop. I'm very impressed with the girls' creations:

Meme #1

Ok, sooooooo, I’ve got nothing. Nothing has happened, nothing funny, nothing absurd, nothing exciting. Someone needs to run around my cul-de-sac in their underwear, or I have to resort to the memes.

Oh also – a short list of things I will never ever discuss again, because the universe is out to smite me. I will not discuss them here, I will not discuss them with you in person. DO. NOT. ASK.

1. Landon’s Sleep Habits.
2. Post Partum Hair Loss.

OK – On to the meme.

6 Weird Things About Me.

1. I eat candy categorically. Skittles, M&Ms, Reece’s Pieces, are sorted into groups with all the colors, when I run out of a color, I make a group of the colors that are left. I then eat the smallest groups first, leaving me in the end with even amounts of the colors. I eat candy bars in pieces. Snickers I bite the caramel/peanut part off, then eat the outer chocolate away from the nougat and then the nougat last. I can’t help doing it.

2. I am always counting. I count steps, I count when I’m rocking Landon, I count while I’m waiting for the microwave, I count at stop lights. Chances are if you see me not doing anything, you can ask me what number I’m on, and I will have one. Sometimes I count for totals, sometimes I count to eight over and over again, and sometimes I sing the Blue Aardvark song in my head.

3. I am compelled to do math problems that are presented to me, either on TV, or in the movies, or in general. Just to make sure they come up with the right answer. I have seen that tutoring commercial where the little girl figures out how much they feed the fish each week like 100 times. I do the math EVERY. TIME.

4. I can’t hear out of my left ear and I have no desire whatsoever to have it fixed.

5. I don’t want things. I’m the hardest person in the world to shop for, because I just don’t want anything really.

6. I don’t like hamburgers or ketchup – I’ve been called un-American for it.

If you have a blog consider yourself tagged.

What else do you need, when you have a puppy who loves you enough to let you do this and keeps coming back for more:

Today's Lesson

When you pack your pump bag, and you pack 4 bottles, it's probably a good idea to pack more than 1 lid.

Olly Olly Oxen Free

No, I haven’t been hiding. I had been posting everyday and you people were getting all excited and loving it, and I was getting more hits and the modem crapped out on me and I not only missed blogging for a few days while Clint was still gone, but I missed a blog post about our Dr. visit and his 4 month newsletter. So I’ve backdated those posts along with a couple others that I wrote during this down time, and I’m sorry for the delay. But seriously – take it out on the modem. Oh and the modem…took our network card out binge drinking and caused all kinds of mayhem – cause they’re buddies like that. Anyway, new modem, network card has recovered from its hangover, and we’re back in business so to speak. Also – don’t cry too hard, because you nearly got some really boring posts anyway, as I was running out of stuff to talk about – do you really want me to do meme’s when you could be reading about power issues and pumping? Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t care and only come to look at the pictures anyway and never read a word of what I say. You’ll probably still get them (the meme type posts), but just not now.

And in the nanny search land. The lady next door can’t do it because she doesn’t have room in her car for his car seat and she has to go pick her daughter up from school. I really liked the lady I spoke with two weeks ago and had she been in our neighborhood or on my way to work it would have been a no brainer. We’ve decided to have Jay’s wife Linda take care of him during the day. Linda offered to watch him, she lives around the corner, she’s got a 9 month old, and she’s had a child with colic – so she pretty much is everything I was looking for. When I left him I felt good about it.

In The Dark

It’s a wonder that anyone in town has power. I didn’t post about my fight with the electric company when we moved into our house because I wasn’t blogging yet. So I’ll start with that LOVELY story.

We moved 5 houses over last January. Actually, technically, we moved down the street first, because the people who bought our house moved in before the house we bought was ready. Anyway, we were moving into our new house. We scheduled the move out and move in a week apart so that we could have some rooms painted and clean up and blah blah blah. So the night they moved the previous owners out…they cut off our power. This was a Friday. A Friday NIGHT when we discovered it. Luckily the painter didn’t mind painting without power.

No one required a permit 3 years ago when we had moved in to the old house – or maybe they did but someone else took care of it, because I certainly didn’t, but now…MUST HAVE CITY PERMIT. So I got the permit issued, after some finagling of the gate in the back yard. And TXU said – you will have power on Tuesday. And Tuesday came and went and we had no power and I called and they said. “You’ll have power Wednesday.” And Wednesday came and went and we did not have power. So I called and they said “You don’t have a permit.” So I called the city and the city said they issued it.

I called again and I got a lady who said “There’s a permit for your street address, but in another city, same day…but that’s not your permit, you still need a permit.” And I got off the phone and called the city again and they said they issued it, but they would re-issue it. And I got to thinking. Kind of weird that we, in THIS city, would be moving on the EXACT same day as someone in THAT city would be to the EXACT same street address.

So I called again, and the lady was not helpful and I asked her what number she called when she called Centerpoint, because I only got a machine to talk to and I wanted to talk to a person.

Her: They’ll tell you the same thing.

Me: What number do you call, when you call Centerpoint?

Her: They’re going to tell you…

Me: What number do you call?

Her: Well, there’s no permit.

Me: WHAT NUMBER DO YOU CALL?

Her: You don’t have to yell at me.

Me: Well, I didn’t think you could hear me, you weren’t answering my question. What number do you call?

And she gave me the number FI.NA.LLY. At this point, the movers have come, they are unloading furniture, and I had Shane with me, because I didn’t want to be alone when they came…he called Clint and told him I was getting more and more mad every time I got off the phone and I think I may have even scared him a little.

So I called Centerpoint and I spoke with Belinda, who I later fell in love with, and considered switching teams to be with her. And I said “Here’s the deal, our power was turned off on Friday, we didn’t have the city permit, the city permit was issued Monday, They said power on Tuesday or Wednesday, it’s now Friday – I’m now moving furniture into my house without having been able to even so much as vacuum the carpet. Now they tell me that I don’t have a permit with Centerpoint and the city says I do. And this morning I was told about a permit that’s for my exact same address but only in THAT city instead of THIS city…and I find it odd that people are moving in at the exact same time as me to the exact same address in THAT city. I think that’s my permit. I’d like to give you my permit number and see if that is indeed my permit.” I was completely amazed that she let me tell my entire story, and even more so when she said “Ok.” I gave her my permit number and she said “Yes, that is your permit. Oh my, you should not have been without power that long, let me give you my extension and my name, and I will speak to my supervisor and see if we can get your power turned on today – and give me a number where I can call you back…if you don’t hear from me in 1 hour, call back and ask for me.” I felt very good about this call and skipped/danced back into the house (cell reception being what it is at our house, I was making these calls in the backyard.) And she called me back in 15-20 minutes and had my power scheduled to be on by the end of the day.

When the guy walked up to the house, he didn’t even knock, he just drove up and walked to the side of the house where the power stuff is and I leaned out the front door and yelled “YOU ARE MY FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW!!!” I refrained from running out and hugging him, but I seriously considered it, also I didn’t want to cheat on Belinda.

All this to say, guess who doesn’t have power? Clint’s cousin Jay, who has been living in their house for a month now. And they just now cut off the power, and the landlord, just now got the permit issued, and they will be without power until Friday. And when he asked to speak to Belinda? They don’t know who Belinda is. She no longer works for Centerpoint. She must have been too smart or too nice or too good to work for them. It’s sad for us, but for her, I hope she’s found a better job – one where she’s not surrounded by all the other morons I spoke to during that week.

Linda is still watching Landon this week, even without power. She has his milk in a cooler and since the weather is nice, it’s not like they’re dying of heat stroke or freezing to death. She also has a key to our house, just in case she needs something electrical – or gets tired of living in campground style.

Leprechaun Gangster

According to the powers that be, Fluor is required to have a transgender restroom. And when we were told about it, we were told it was the bathroom by the auditorium.

So when I asked about a pump room, I was told, there’s a little room off the auditorium. And I only knew of a bathroom…a transgender bathroom. So I never went to check it out. I mean, if I’m going to pump in a bathroom, it might as well be the one closest to my desk, no?

So, I’ve changed projects and I’ve moved to a different area, and I’m using a different bathroom. The bathroom closest to me, doesn’t have an electrical plug close enough to a stall even with my extension cord, so I have to go to the next closest bathroom. I’m using the bathroom on the floor with a lot of the department managers. Among whom are the managers who are women and most of the secretary types. They’ve been around quite a while, so they know some things that aren’t known to everyone. While I pumped in the bathroom today, I was told a few times about this pumping room. I got told about it a few times by women in the other bathroom, but no one seemed to know exactly where it was. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, so to speak. So I clarified with one of them that it was indeed NOT the transgender bathroom, and where exactly I should be looking for this room.

This afternoon I had to take a piece of mail to the mail room and since this mythical room is only about 100 yards further, I decided to give it a visit. Color me impressed. There’s a lock on the door. There’s a couch and a bunch of magazines. There’s a sink and little fridge. With this room, I no longer would need my extension cord – well, I do if I want to sit on the couch, but if I sat in the chair I wouldn’t. There’s a little dry erase board to sign up on for time slots, so you don’t interrupt someone. I’m totally going to this room from here on out. The only thing missing is a way to lock up my pump in that room so I wouldn’t have to lug it back and forth, then it would be perfection.

Chubby Big Head

Our doctor visit went really well this time. No scale peeing, no fussing while we talk to the doctor, although he did make some fun noises to get his attention. He weighed 15 lbs 12 oz (75%), is 24 ½ inches tall (50%) and has a 43 cm head (75%). He’s doing the things the doctor expected him to be doing by now. The doctor held him up by his armpits and had him “stand” for as long as he could, I guess we never really let go of him when we do that, but he gave him about a ½ inch clearance, so he freaked himself out when the wobbling started.

We read a few books while we waited for the nurse to come in with the shots. Well, I read them; he tried as hard as he could to eat them.

He got his shots, which he was not happy about, but recovered from very quickly – like within seconds. I can only hope this is a trait he keeps. He ran a VERY low grade fever after and was cranky and I’m guessing sore all day Saturday. Nothing a little Tylenol couldn’t take care of.

Monthly Newsletter #4

Dear Landon,

Wow, what a difference a month makes. In an effort to keep your nasal cavity clean, this month you’ve been home 99% of the time. Your cousin Ashley and Grandma Logan have been taking care of you while I go to work. It’s quite possibly the best arrangement EVER. But as it is, all good things must come to an end.


I’m not sure who to give credit to, but one of them got you to lay still for diaper changes instead of flipping and trying to scoot away with your naked butt up in the air. This was cute at first, but oh so annoying after a while. Grandma said she’s been working on singing and sticking your tongue out, you’re still not really doing anything when anyone else thinks of it, and most of your feats seem to be complete accidents and you even shock yourself. Grandma said one day she put you in the bassinet on your tummy and when she came back to get you that you were on your back. You’ve done it a few times for us too. They also got you to take a pacifier pretty reliably.





You went to your first Girls’ Night Out dinner this month. Where I became that woman who brings her child into a restaurant lets him scream and doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it. Everyone took turns trying to make you happy. Myra was most successful, but you certainly let her know when she changed her bouncing pattern and it wasn’t to your liking. You should know that it’s privilege to come to that and if you’re going to keep up those kinds of antics, you won’t be invited. Also, one day your Daddy will feel confident enough to keep you at home while I go by myself! Oh sweet freedom, I can almost taste it.


You went to your first (and second) basketball game. Dylan’s team won both times, and aside from that whole pesky being tired and hungry at the first one, you did pretty well. The noise and movements kept you busy for the most part. And your cousin Dylan was super excited that you came.

Your dad spent about a week with your Grandparents, so you got a taste of what life would be like if you only had one slave. I think you went pretty easy on me, which I totally appreciate, but it also didn’t go unnoticed that upon his return you realized you need to ramp up your demands so that you could keep us both busy. You wouldn’t want a slave to have a break and say…groom themselves or anything.


Starting on Monday you will be staying during the day with your not-so-distant cousins. You’re going to have to be nice to Linda. Right now she thinks you’re very cute and sweet, and we don’t want her to know otherwise. You and Noah will have a great time playing during the day, and hopefully you will be nice and tired when I get you home. Because we all know I could use the rest.

Love,
Mom

I didn't want to like her

I went to “interview” the in home day care lady yesterday evening. I got there earlier than I thought I would because traffic wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and someone pulled their head out of their butt and made the lights work together through the construction area…imagine that!

I got to her house about 15 minutes before I was scheduled to arrive and rang the doorbell. I got no answer. I thought it was odd that she wouldn’t be there just 15 minutes before a scheduled interview. I knocked. I waited. I started to walk back toward the truck to call her and see what was going on. But she answered the door as I started to take my first steps. She apologized; she had been in the back yard. The little girl told me several times that they had been “bwowing bubboes.”

She immediately asked me if it would be ok if she asked me to take off my shoes. So I did. That’s a pretty normal request in situations where people care for infants, so I’m fine with that. I didn’t plan for it, but thank goodness my feet didn’t stink.

She gushed over the baby, her daughter pulled out all her toys one by one to show Landon, maybe he’d like a plastic peach to eat, or a plastic plum. Oh, here’s this little TV thingy I bet he’d like to eat that. Here are my teletubbies. And the “scary” dragon. (Looked like a pretty friendly dragon.) She clearly had prepared for me to come over, and after seeing how neatly everything was put up in the living room (play area) prior to the “show and tell” – I understand why she had taken the girls outside. I think Landon will be very happy there.

We talked about various areas of concern for me. That he’s not always hungry, just because he’s crying. That he’s colicky and her second daughter was colicky, so she has some experience with that. She seemed very eager to do the background check. She’s going to register with the state of Texas, and they will do those background checks, not just on her, but on her husband as well. I told her my concerns about how he got sick. She told me that she only expected to maybe get 1-2 other kids, and that she would expect me to keep him home if he were to get sick, and that she would also make me aware if she or her children were sick, that she’s looking for a backup person, but also that I could make other plans if I needed to. (Hi Mom!) She’s got her CPR and First Aid and will be taking a class next week to renew it.

I told her that I was working on a plan to be home by August, and that at that point I would only need part time day care or possibly not at all (i.e. switch to Mother’s Day Out). She was very excited for me, and hoped that worked out.

She’s supposed to send me a reference today. I hate to be one of those people who only talks to one person and hires her. But I didn’t expect to like her this much. I wanted to not like her. I wanted the traffic to be terrible to get over there, I wanted this to be an easy “Nope, Mom, you just have to keep coming to take care of him, while I keep looking.” And it’s not. Because I liked her.

I’m still going to talk to my neighbor again, just in case, because just the ease of walking him next door instead of driving across town would make me feel better. I’m also going to talk to Clint’s cousin Jay’s wife. She offered to watch him, but I don’t know how serious she really was about it.

Ok, here’s the spectacular…fine, maybe not spectacular, but it has the potential to be, once he’s doing more fun stuff, also once I figure out how to get the thing in better focus:

Seatbelt

I don’t mean to make you cry. But I can’t help doing this, it’s important. One of the blogs I read each day points me to other blogs I might find interesting. Yesterday it pointed me to this one. Start here, and read the next few entries – if you can still see through your tears. Some of you don’t click links, so suffice it to say that Jeff dropped his 3 year old daughter, Isabelle, off at his cousin’s house to be babysat on Friday night. At 4:10 am Saturday morning, they got a call that Jeff had been in an accident and had been crushed beneath a car. The 4 posts (so far) that follow are the cousin trying to find a way to deal with the loss, and also how Isabelle is dealing with it.

Everyone has their stories of people who were saved by wearing their seatbelt, people who it wouldn’t have made a difference, people who were killed because they didn’t wear theirs and people who were saved by being “thrown clear” because they weren’t wearing one. The truth of the matter is that the number of people saved by their seatbelts far outweighs the number of people killed by having them on. Also consider this, because by TX law adults are “allowed” to remain unbelted in the backseat of a vehicle: one person without a seatbelt in the car endangers the other people in the car, because in the event of an accident they become a human battering ram and can kill the people who were wearing their seatbelts. See this video for an illustration of that. The video is in Spanish, but I don’t think you even really need the volume on to understand the point.

When we bought the Magnum, Clint made a promise to me that if he got the car he wanted, he would wear his seatbelt – something he didn’t do reliably before. He still has to be told sometimes when he gets in my truck. But if you ever need a reason to wear a seatbelt, it’s this:





and even this:



Tune in tomorrow, I promise not to give a lecture or make you cry. But I’m working on something spectacular.

Pictures Etc

Hey - does anyone who uses blogger know how to get it to show a strikethrough? When i do it in word and copy it, it doesn't show up here. Also - i'm not fixing that link in the last post - if you don't know that song, you won't get it from the link anyway.

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Clinton is in Gun Barrel this week, his father is having his second knee replacement, so I'm experiencing single motherhood...which sucks. Anyway - he called this morning to request pictures be posted.





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Intense basketball watching:






"Hey Scarlett, what are you DOING?!?!? Are you completely insane?"

"Give me the camera."

"That's enough pictures, WOMAN!!!"

"Mmmm, tasty."

I still haven't found what I'm looking for

Do you have that song in your head now? Sorry…well, not really. If it’s still in your head tomorrow, I’m sorry.

I’ve spent the last couple days looking seriously for a nanny. I put it off, partly because I had an evil hope that Ashley wouldn’t get her job in DC (She did and I’m very excited for her, it’s really a neat opportunity), and partly because I knew it would be a hard find. I want someone who will either come to our home or keep him in their home. I need someone who has some experience with colicky babies, or at least a tremendous amount of patience. I need someone with whom I feel comfortable leaving him. I had a lead on one, but she has a job already. I asked the lady next door who already takes care of some kids during the day and she said she’d let me know, but she didn’t seem really interested. I emailed a few people on craigslist and houstonzone and asked for references and rates. By the way, when you post an ad asking for a job or professing your services – USE SPELL CHECK and GRAMMAR CHECK. If an ad tells me you are “flooent in Inglish” or that “Englesh is yore furst langage.” I’m not really convinced. I don’t honestly care if you speak much English, if you love my baby, but don’t pretend to be something you’re not. I have a listing of registered home based care places from the state of Texas, but I need to map them before I figure out which ones I want to call first.

My main problem so far, is that leaving him with Ashley or my mother has been SO great. I know they love him and I know he’s in good hands and I’m not crying my way to work like I did when I left him at day care. The thought of trying to explain to yet another person that he doesn’t need to eat every hour, or that just because he cries doesn’t mean he’s hungry exhausts me. And in all honesty – I want to be the one that’s there. I want to be home with him. I want that more than anything. I have my plan in place and I’m working on it seriously, but until then I need this one thing to work out, for now anyway.

I do have an appointment on Tuesday with a lady who would keep him in her home. I’d have to drive into some of the worst traffic in the evening and then back out of it, so I have to really like her, but I’m going to talk to her anyway.

SHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Ok, I get it, I am not to speak of the positive things lest they disappear. Landon used to sleep through the night. I told too many people. He no longer sleeps more than 4 hours. Landon used to wake up in the night and go right back to sleep after being fed. I told too many people that I did not feel sleep deprived, that I was used to getting up, and he has punished me by waking up at 3 am not to return to sleep until I leave for work – so guess who didn’t get much sleep?

Also, last night a house exploded near our house. It’s about a mile away (2 if you take roads). I woke up shortly after midnight, because his royal highness was hungry and I started feeding him when I heard the BOOM. My first thought was that Clinton had fallen asleep at the computer and fallen out of the chair, because the room shook, and I thought it must have been right above me. But when I went up stairs to check on him, he was in the guest bed (still slightly sick, not taking chances). He’d heard it too. My next thought was that a car had crashed into our house, but after sending him outside to investigate, and finding nothing, we heard sirens. The sirens let me relax, knowing that it must have been something somewhere else, and someone was on it. Clint apparently stayed up another couple hours because he was sure the AC was going to fall on his head, and he needed to be up and ready to jump out of the way. As it turns out, the lady had smelled something funny yesterday afternoon, and the funny turns out was probably a gas leak. She was blown out of the house, she has singed hair and bumps, bruises, and small cuts, but is otherwise in pretty good condition, considering her house was leveled by the explosion and following fire.

Landon does not care if you didn’t get much sleep. He does not care if you had to go to work where they frown on the naps while he took several naps during the day. “It’s not my fault you didn’t take a nap when I did.” He says. Loudly. Madly. “I’ll teach you to stay awake at work all day.” He’s really not a very nice kid sometimes. Also doesn’t seem to respond to threats of being put in a closet or left on the front porch. He’s pretty cocky, that kid.