He Sleeps!

One of the most amazing things to happen over the past few weeks has been the change in Luke's sleeping schedule. For a few weeks, or perhaps a couple months, I can't tell time, Luke was waking up at 3 or 4 in the morning, only seven or eight hours after he went to sleep. This was bad.

Now, we switched him to one nap during the day - which is between 1 and 3 hours depending on what kind of day he is having - and he's been sleeping through the night. Sleeping through the night? I mean SLEEEEEPING through the night. From 7:30 to 7. That's 11.5 hours, people.

I wouldn't mention this as a change in schedule if it were a one night event, but it's been over a week. My boy sleeps!

Nice File

My job is in 'Quality'. As part of my job I am attempting to find all the paperwork, manuals, drawing, purchase orders, specifications, etcetera etcetera for various pieces of equipment in the plant. In my previous job, where it was known to be part of the process that paperwork was important, this was not a problem. In fact, it was more of a problem to weed out unnecessary paperwork like random emails people would supply me with that would be correspondence of inanity: "Did you get the tank?" "Yeah, we got it. Thanks." "Good, we were pleased to provide you with a tank! Do you like your tank?" "Yes, it is shiny." "Good! We liked making it for you!"

Here, lack of any documentation is a problem. In some ways, this is understandable. The plant is fifty years old and no one ever thought saving things like drawings was important. A bigger problem is that no one ever thought LABELING things like drawings was important, so I get handed a file of 20 drawings that may or may not apply to my current project.

I sorted the twenty drawings into six different pieces of equipment by the serial numbers the manufacturer put on the drawings. Where those serial numbers might be on the equipment? No freaking clue.

But my favorite drawing? Is the one some engineer made on a piece of corrugated cardboard ripped off a box. Which he dutifully filed in the random drawing file folder. I can't throw it away now!

Busy Ball Popper

Busy Ball Popper

Luke received this as a Christmas present from a family friend (who has three little girls ages 1.5, 3.5, and 5.5 and they are the BEST BEHAVED CHILDREN IN THE WORLD. They may actually be mini adults, I'm not sure. And no doubt she would tell me that it's all a front and at home they're screaming banshees tearing each others hair out, but she would be LYING.)...

Anywho, Busy Ball Popper is making the list of top toys for babies in my book. Luke has already figured out how to turn it on over and over again and it thrills him each time. The balls pop up! So exciting!

There is, however, a flaw with the Busy Ball Popper. If you go to Amazon and watch it in action, they show the balls popping up and landing in the little catch bin. There's one part of the video where you can sortof see a more accurate version of what happens - that the balls go zinging off high into the air or hit each other and go in opposite directions. This is actually a benefit from Luke's point of view, but from mine, it causes a lot of ball chasing.

Luke got a total of five toys that include little plastic balls (I wonder if I'll get people coming to this site from googling that phrase???). None of these balls are the same size. Thanks, Fisher Price, Playskool, and Parents. Thanks a LOT.

Ramblin' ramblin' rambliiiin'!!

I just checked out my stats, and I have about 300 more hits this month than I did last month, so either people are eagerly checking back to see if I have written more, or there are other people actually reading this blog. Hm. I need to get one of them thar fancy site meter things that tells you where people are linking from.

I was contemplating the weight loss thing, and did I mention I become a bit obsessive on this point? So I was contemplating it, and thinking about how I have to weigh in next Tuesday and really, I've been dieting this week (Day Three now) and so I am putting myself at a disadvantage for winning next week. But really, I already feel immeasurably better with only having lost 1.6 of the 3 holiday pounds, so I'm not going to stop.

Plus, we're going up north this weekend, where there is no scale, and there is random grazing on food. I don't know what it is about that place but 1, it makes me incredibly lazy and 2, I eat more in two days than I should eat in a week. Cookies cookies cookies. Steak? Okay. Mac and Cheese? Sounds good. Some twizzlers? Pretzels? Granola bars? I swear, I start rummaging for old food in the cupboards.

So, I will probably gain back any loss I incurred this week over the weekend, is what I am saying.

And back to the contest. Our actual weights are not being published, but our pounds loss and percentage weight loss will be. You know, for privacy's sake. But if you are not a complete idiot, you can figure out from the number and the percent exactly what each person weighs. Which I am so totally going to do for each of the other contestants.

And speaking of other contestants, there is a woman who weighs MAYBE 100 pounds and she's in this contest. Seriously. HER THIGHS DO NOT TOUCH. I don't think they even touch when she sits down. I don't know why she's doing this challenge, but if I don't beat her, I'll cry. Because even based as it is based on percentage weight loss, I can lose more than she can. Or life is not fair.

Which it's not.

And a final note on boobs... I am actually looking forward to losing some weight in my boobs. Several bras are unwearable because they cause the dreaded double-boob, and I'd like to wear them. I'd also like to stop wearing my mongo maternity bras, which I wear because not enough of the pre preggo bras fit. These things have inch wide, padded straps and provide nearly enough coverage to constitute a shirt. They have three hooks. When the boob fairy visits, the cute bra fairy cuts out.

What Did I Get Myself Into?

I may have mentioned that my workplace is doing a 'Biggest Loser' style weight loss competition. I may have mentioned that I joined the contest as an attempt to motivate myself to lose the rest of the weight.

I *thought* it was just for January and February. And this worked out tremendously with my whole 'being in a wedding in March' thing, and also the 'want to look less bloated and beached-whaley for Luke's first birthday' thing.

I just received an email with all the rules. First off, it's for January, February, AND March. That's TWELVE WEEKS of commitment, folks. TWELVE WEEKS of weighing in in front of a coworker. *in through the nose* Okay, okay, I can do that. But now, the rules also include a $5 penalty if you gain during a week. Well, SHIT! Maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal if I weren't such a big freak about the money, but the idea of PAYING for my weight gain, like it's not bad enough to endure the shame of GAINING during a weight loss competition, oof, that's bad.

There are charts. And payout schedules. And body fat percentages. And like I said, WHAT DID I GET MYSELF INTO!?!?

I gotta say, though, this is gonna keep me motivated.

And Happy 200th post to me!

And also, 1.6 pounds of holiday weight gone.

Living in Two Week Increments

The oddest thing about knowing that I *could* quit now and we could survive through early May is that I am living in two week increments. I get paid every other Friday, and while before I realized I could quit, it was just managing the slippery slope of slightly less saved money each month, now it's realizing that each paycheck means that I am that much closer to being able to quit, and that much more money is not used up from our savings.

Add a spring tax refund - a decided benefit of the new home, baby, husband in school is that this spring's refund should be fairly hefty - and the money is rolling in.

Have I mentioned that I am incredibly uptight about money? Incredibly. Esposo, not so much so. He's confident that more money will be coming soon! I'm confident that everything will be ripped out from beneath us at any second. We're both fiscally responsible, it's just that he needs less of a savings net than I do.

We're attempting to plan our vacations this year, hoping for a long weekend in San Diego. This will easily cost us $1200-$1400 between flight, hotel, and car. Not to mention food and exhibit entry fees. And then there is the matter of the as-yet-unplanned wedding in Aruba? Jamaica? Puerto Rico? I don't know how to budget time and money for that yet.

So every two weeks, we are a little closer to being able to afford to do things, a little closer to living life the way we want to, not the way we have to.

I'm going to go estimate our tax refund now.

New Year Resolutions

I am a sucker for resolutions. They just sound so pretty and hopeful and I make them all the time. Sometimes they work. That keeps me coming back for more!

My number one resolution is to kick start this weight loss thing. I've been stalled since early August, and holiday pictures are less than flattering. I have two goals: 1 lose ten pounds before Luke's birthday, when there will be another round of photographing, and 2 lose about 17 pounds before The Podiatrist's wedding in March. That final weight would make me pretty happy for awhile, I think, as this weight made me content for a few months. Gaining 50 pounds in pregnancy made me appreciate my body even if it is overweight. It's not THAT overweight.

Number two resolution is to cut back the caffeine. I had been drinking about 60 ounces of soda a day, I would guess. Far too much. I think soda for lunch ought to be plenty.

Number three resolution is to cook more and bring my lunch more often.

Number four resolution is to exercise at least twice a week.

All of these are ultimately related to the same thing, my body, and focusing on getting it in better shape. Because by the end of 2006? I should be pregnant again, and I want to be better physically prepared this time.

Planning a Party!

Luke shares a birthday with Abraham Lincoln, which is a heck over a lot better than sharing one with Prince Charles, in my opinion. There is a tremendous benefit of having a kid born early in the year - we get to look for clearance toys! Each year after the holidays I clearance shop for new holiday decor, and now we'll be clearance shopping for his birthday presents as well. I'm classy like that.

So I've begun thinking about his first birthday party and am torn between a small, immediate family affair, and a larger, more extensive family gathering. The thing is, it's all Esposo's family either way, except a cousin here and there for me. My family is larger overall, but his is closer, both emotionally and physically. We see his aunt several times throughout the year. I think my aunt forgot my son's name (she's a peach, that one).

And while I like hosting events, though I much prefer to do so in warm weather, I don't like hosting gifting events. No doubt I will end up inviting everyone, and be stressed about it all, and ultimately be slightly disappointed with how it turns out. I'm also fun like that. I'm learning to get over this, though, which is a dang good thing.

2.2 Pounds

After one day on a post-holiday diet, which basically consisted of eating well for breakfast and lunch and then having cookies with whipped cream for dinner, I'm 0.8 pounds less. The 120 ounces of water probably helped flush me out as well. So I have 2.2 pounds of holiday weight to lose in addition to the 30 other pounds I want to lose. Part of me is thinking I should be waiting to lose until next week, when the weight loss competition begins, but most of me says that I feel far too big right now and I'm going to work on losing it.

I can also now breathe through one nostril without the aid of drugs.

Thirsty

Ounces of water recommended for daily consumption: 8 glasses * 8 ounces = 64 ounces

Ounces of water consumed today before noon: 90

The good news is that my tongue feels less fuzzy.

Update:

100 ounces consumed (12:42 PM)

Theoretically I am hungry. But I've eaten so much over the past five days the idea of eating is somewhat disturbing.

Perspective

Conversations with relatives always yield strange perspectives. Friends, in general, have similar perspectives, as they are in your peer group and view life through a similar filter. Relatives, however, are far out there.

My uncle is 72 years old. To my eyes, he looks very much the same as he has my entire life. I don't think that's being used to the way he looks - the Swedish side of my family tends to age very well. Sadly, I think I have more of the Czech side of the family in me and they're not doing as well with the aging.

As we arrived to the party Saturday evening, he announced the birth of his second great grandchild. This would be my first cousin twice removed, and Luke's second cousin once removed, if you like the genealogy stuff.

Now remember, my uncle is 72. This is his GREAT grandchild. My great aunt (age 82) even said to him "How is it you have two great grandchildren and I have none!" They procreate relatively young in my uncle's line. Which leads me up to the comment that threw me a bit.

Speaking of his granddaughter (Baby Mama) and her sister (Baby Aunt), he said that Baby Aunt dotes on the two great grandchildren. Uncle isn't sure, though, if she wants to have children. She is 30 already, after all.

Egads.

Online Hobbies

As you can see, one of my online hobbies has become this blog. It disappoints me daily that I'm not writing as well as I would like to, but it keeps me from going insane, and apparently there are 5-6 people who read it. I will refer to you as "My Adoring Public".

Another online hobby for me is selling the crap out of my house. Ebay and Half.com are my friends. I particularly love Half.com because I can post up the books I have for sale, leave them in a stack in the guest room and wait for the money to come pouring in. Get rich INSTANTLY! Actually, with my 20 or so books on inventory, many of them absolute crap, listing for $0.75, it's not exactly the best get rich scheme. My brother has those, which deal with obscure medical books retailing for $300.

Anywho, another book sold today, some French grammar book my brother had left at my mother's house. That'll teach him. It brought $20 to our family coffers, which isn't a bad return on something I found in a closet.

The thing I love about selling things online is that I declutter AND I get money. Both are things I like. It amazes me constantly what people collect. I understand sentimentality - I certainly wouldn't put my beloved and beleaguered Cabbage Patch Doll for sale online. There's no money in that anyway!

But Strawberry Shortcake and her friends hit the auction block and brought in over $100. I think that traumatized my mother a bit, as she thought I would have more love for ol' Strawberry. I was quite into the 'cake as a wee one. I feel good knowing that they went to collectors, though. Even the doll (I believe her name was Butter Cookie) whose leg was chewed off by my childhood dog in his puppy days (and really, the doll smelled like COOKIE - can you blame him?) sold on Ebay for $5 or so. As did Apple Dumplin', who had a case of mold spots on her little plastic legs.

People buy anything.

Normal

Those were about the longest and shortest five days of Christmas ever. Okay, we only actually celebrated Christmas three of those days, but still. Ex-hausting. Luke loved every minute of his first Christmas, though. On Christmas Eve he met many of my extended relatives for the first time, and while it took awhile for him to feel comfortable, he didn't cling or cry. I cried a few times after getting trapped in some conversations with my crazy relatives.

We followed up with hosting Christmas Day at our home - my first time hosting. Our meal was off, we certainly haven't got big meal preparation down. But when Esposo's aunt and cousins (and spouses and child) came over, it was fairly comfortable with all 20 people in the house. Luke played with his cousins until the last second, diving right into a wrestling match with his uncle and not minding one bit when he was crawled over, stepped on, and generally battered as the youngest and smallest there. What did he care? He was in the middle of it all!!

And finally we celebrated with more of Esposo's cousins on Christmas After - eight kids 6 and under. Luke wasn't as involved then, preferring to just play with toys or hang out and eat, but he was happy to be there. Considering how introverted his parents are (I am exhausted from seeing so many people, and could handle no human contact for about 2-3 days to recoup) it surprises me how much Luke loves being around other people, whether he knows them or not.

Today I am back at work, and not mentally here at all - basically decompressing. So far I've had 40 ounces of water to attempt to rehydrate inside-out and taken one Benedryl to stem the mucus flow from my nose (pretty thought, I know).

Good morning, GOOD MORNING!

I wake up all perky on days I don't have to work. Luke did not nap well yesterday, because he's trying to go to one nap a day at ten months old, so it was one 1.5 hour nap. I gave him a bottle at 6, after he had eaten 800 tortellini, too - this kid with the EATING lately! - and his eyes rolled back in his head and began REMing before they were closed.

Which, have I mentioned that? That my kid tends to fall asleep with his eyes open a slit? Very creepy. Apparently this is from my husband's maternal grandmother. Early in her marriage to his grandfather, he saw her sleeping like this and thought she was dead.

So, Luke, sleepy sleepy boy. LOGICALLY, I put him to bed. He was ALREADY half asleep. This should have been no big deal. Except for the 15 minutes of crying that ensued. Then he slept until 4:30 this morning. Which wasn't bad for me, since I don't have to work today, and when I don't have to work? I am perky as hell getting up, even super early. Most mornings.

Wait, MY kid needs presents?

I haven't really bought Luke anything for Christmas. We've gotten things for all his cousins, his grandmothers, aunt, uncle, and a little something for the women at daycare who clean his bottom two days a week (and I've been meaning to thank you, Luke, for pooping right as I got to daycare to pick you up the other day, which meant that Miss Faith cleaned you up before I headed out the door. It was a Christmas present for Mommy! I couldn't help but notice, though, how still and calm you were on the changing table for her. What's with that?).

We have gotten SOMEthing for Luke. There are Megabloks waiting at home to be played with. But that was a $15 purchase or something. Grandma bought him the giant play center he's been using the past two weeks or so (again, not so good with the surprising here). Nana's got some nifty presents on the way, I know, and I can't wait to see them myself. Uncle Doctor is bringing some Fisher Price extravaganza and Uncle Vet is bringing a tool bench. He's getting good presents! But Mommy and Daddy haven't gotten much at all.

Part of it is knowing that his birthday is in just six weeks. There will be holiday sales to attend, and to beat that old, dead, decaying horse, the money is tight right now. So he's ten months old, and he won't remember what he got for Christmas. So he's still going to get plenty of new toys, and he doesn't show waning interest in most of his toys anyway. I still feel guilty.

And by the way, the top played with toys in our household are these two:

The Rings

The Shape Sorter

If you don't have those for your baby? Go get them, they are cheap and durable.

The shape sorter is by far Luke's number one toy. Blocks go in the bucket, take blocks out. Put blocks back in. Dump blocks on head. Put lid on, take lid off. Hand lid to Mom/Dad. Take lid from Mom/Dad. Stick head in bucket and make noises. Bang blocks together. Stack blocks. Bang blocks on bucket. The possibilities are, apparently, endless.

Choose Your Own Adventure

This past weekend I chose to miss a friend's annual winter celebration of birthdays. For the past four years, I think, I've trekked to the bar with tens of other wellwishers. I even made it last year, 7 1/2 months pregnant and all. But after we worked on crown molding all day, the thought of driving to the city to a party that *started* close to my typical bedtime was not a pleasant one. Not to mention that we hadn't lined up babysitting.

Bar parties were de riguer throughout our twenties. $20 all you can drink for three hours! These events were fabulous for all involved those years right out of college. It requires virtually no planning - just find a place and send an evite. It seemed that at least every other week, there was an all you can drink night somewhere. Good bar, bad bar, we didn't care - after all, it was just a place to start the evening, to warm up to whatever would come on later. It was all a preface to the last call at Beaumont's or DejaVu, or whatever terribly trashy afterhours bar we closed the night at.

The stories that came from those early bar nights were always top notch, because you either knew everyone personally or directly through another guest. You could easily find out who made out with who, who was kicked out, who cried and who fell asleep in the bar bathroom. The recap of the weekend events, sometimes taking well into the next week, provided amusement during those long tedious work hours as we waited for next weekend to begin.

We're closing out our twenties now, and the bar nights have dwindled. I can only think of three that stood the test of time, one being this past weekend. I may make it to one this year. Whereas $20 for three hours was a losing bet for the bar when I was 24, this year they'd make money on the deal. We are all straddling our wilder youth and our more sedate 30's. Even the diehards are cutting back on the endless nights out.

Having a baby has certainly accelerated the process for me, because I will be up at 6 AM (on a good day!) and I have to be able to take good care of my son. It doesn't mean I don't miss going out and getting silly drunk, it just means I don't have it as an option. I took a different route in the Choose Your Own Adventure.

Baby Food

Yesterday the doctor informed Esposo that we could being feeding Luke eggs - which we already have - and start giving him milk in a sippy cup to make the transfer from formula & bottle to milk & sippy smoother. He'd still get his bottles, but he'd have milk in a sippy with his meals.

My baby is rapidly turning into a toddler! He is, in fact, toddling around the house more actively, even if sometimes he's doing a bear crawl - on his feet and hands, with his legs straight. And he understands when we laugh at him and he laughs along, too. In fact, if we laugh at all, he laughs.

Last night I headed to the couch with some popcorn and the toddler part came out. Luke wanted to eat what I was eating, and he was ticked if I didn't keep it coming. I had to bite the popcorn into manageable pieces to keep those scratchy shell parts that get caught in your teeth from entering my little boy's delicate system, and this slowed the process tremendously. I ended up putting away the popcorn because I got tired of feeding him AND myself. It's a new no-snack plan...

This morning, I made myself some scrambled eggs, and again, the little one headed over and screamed for what mommy was having. I gave him some and he eagerly gobbled it up. Good! Healthy food! Protein! So I headed into the kitchen, popped him in his feeding chair and gave him some cheerios while I scrambled up an egg just for him.

You already see the ending again, don't you?

OF COURSE he didn't want his OWN scrambled egg. Even when I tried to mix in the cheerios and eggs in one big mess, he deliberately picked out the cheerios. And if egg made it to his mouth, it was summarily rejected and came out the same way it went in.

Growing Up!

Luke had his ten month appointment today. He gained one pound, six ounces and grew an inch over the past two months. He is now in the 50th percentile for weight and 75th percentile for height. 75th! He had dropped down to the 50th from about 4 months on, so this is news! He can grow!

Ebanking, Wonder Of

Each paycheck a certain amount of funds is taken out, pretax, and placed in my Flexible Spending Account to help pay for daycare. Let's say this is $100, for simplification.

Daycare costs more than $100 every two weeks, so I had a backlog of bills to be paid from my FSA. I sent in a claim in September for, say, $5,000 - again, for simplification.

Each pay period, I pay $100 pretax, it's processed against the $5,000 claim and comes right back to me. Well, 'right back' being the "Wonders of Ebanking" part.

My FSA company shows that $100 is paid on the Monday following my paycheck issuance (all electronic, I don't deposit things). My bank shows that $100 comes in by FRIDAY. Where is my $100 for that week??? Everything I do is electronic! It should be instant! Or at least not take FOUR DAYS.

BAH!

Good Luck Retiring

"During the 30 years of your retirement, if you live on 100% of your normal income, you will need $16,536,435.68 to live on."

I hate trying to figure out if we've saved enough, how do we save more, blah biddy blah blah. Scares the crap out of me when I try to figure out what we need.

And what? Kids want to go to college?

Deep Thoughts

Last night I went to bed early, as it is winter and the dark and cold induce hibernation (three days to the shortest day of the year and then there's MORE sun!), and of course I had tremendously deep thoughts and brilliant insights. Strange how these things only happen when I'm half asleep and snuggly warm, hmmmmm?

This morning I'm sitting at work contemplating the projects that I have to work on, and trying to determine what I will attack. Most management is on vacation, so it's a quiet time, and a good time to devote to the start up phase of several projects. We'll also be moving to a new office area soon, so I want to allocate some time to clear out my desk. My predecessor - from two years ago! - left a lot of files in my desk. I have, in fact, two wholly unusable drawers filled with his files.

And then, I was delivered my 2006 calendar... Luke will turn 1 in 55 days. Esposo will be done with school in four and a half months, or 137 days. There are deadlines and holidays and birthdays, all laid out for another year. Goals and plans and dates marked off already. Babies are coming in March, June, and July. The new year's calendar is a great way to look at life.

This is what Going Overboard looks like

Someone at my place of employment has decided to start a 'Biggest Loser' game in January and February. Always looking for the motivation, I signed myself up and they can count on my $20 buy in. It's a monetary pool! On weight loss! What do I need? To be thinner! With money!

As Esposo pointed out - So this means the goal is to gain as much weight as possible in December, right? Others in the game have expressed this same thought. Talk about holiday cheer! We's a-eatin'!

This is day four of the parade of food at work. And parade it is. Today the sweet table has pulled out the stops, and this morning I have had:

One (1) piece fudge
One (1) slice german chocolate cake
One (1) rice krispy treat
One (1) chocolatey minty cookie
Four (4) Dunkin Donuts munkins
One (1) Dunkin Donut with strawberry frosting

Thank God I'm working a half day today.

One Gift Box:

exercise ball, ceramic server, 2 jars top secret cream, watch, and much more

It's the and much more that concerns me. And the watch a little, because we've gotten some UUUUUUUGLY watches. As in ones with BOTH roman and arabic numerals, because that's necessary.

MOBILITY AT LAST!!

Okay, it's not like he was immobile, the kid's been crawling for 3 or 4 months now. But last night, after weeks of everyone everywhere coaxing coaxing coaxing Luke to take a step, he took THREE! In a ROW! And did not fall over! I cheered and clapped for him and he clapped along with me, but then we found that the standing and clapping is WAY overtaxing on the balance systems of a ten month old and he sat down.

I tried to get him to walk more, but he was done, I mean, come ON, mom, what more do you want?? So I called my husband, my mother, my mother-in-law, and my brother (The Boy). And I actually got to speak to The Boy, which was novel because between the two hour time difference between here and California and his flat out insane schedule (frequently, The Boy works 12-16 hour days) there tends to be a lot of message leaving.

By the way, can you guess what my family nickname is?

Luke was pretty thrilled all night long, there was tickling and giggling and general happiness, and then after a bottle, he went right to bed without so much as a whimper. Unfortunately, he woke up at 4:15, but I put him back to bed at 5:30 and he was headed back to dreamland. Until I so stupidly went in his room to cover him with blankets and woke him up. Now there is further crying from his room, where before there was silence.

And yes, you correctly guessed 'The Girl'!!

Smart ass

I am a smart ass. I'm not the best smart ass, but I'm pretty good, I think. And who do I have to blame for being a smart ass? My mother! Seriously, she presents herself in society as this pleasant, kind, understanding woman and behind it all lurks the heart of a smart ass. It starts at home, you know.

The thing about being a smart ass, is that you can't turn it off. If you can stop yourself from even thinking or muttering the smart ass comments? You aren't a full blooded smart ass. Being a smart ass requires constant vigilance. There are always statements requiring a smart ass remark.

I frequently stop or throw off meetings because I CAN NOT resist the smart ass comment forcing it's way out of my mouth. At best, I can reduce the comment to a smirk, which also attracts attention. It amuses me, what can I say!

Sadly, I seem to be surrounded by Non-Smart-Asses at my present place of Employment. NSA's if you will. NSA's are painful for smart asses because they just don't get it. As a smart ass, what I expect from a smart ass comment I make is a rejoinder. A response, and jab back, if you will. It is the code of the smart ass to one-up in smart assedness. It is what keeps smart ass comments at a higher quality. Sadly, with no smart ass rejoinders, my smart ass skilz are falling.

Won't you help save a smart ass? For just 65 cents a day!

There, I just typed ass or derivatives thereof 21 times.

Happy Holidays!

WTF, Mom?

Beat Down

This has been a long couple months at work. Each week we say 'This is going to be a long week' and each week it is, and then next week, same thing. I think I have run myself to the breaking point, as in, I no longer care to complete the eight projects left on my desk. I completed two this week, and maybe, just maybe, will complete another tomorrow. But to get all of these out? Besides being impossible, since two are in early stages, is just not reasonable. I'm tired.

I gave Esposo his Christmas present last night. Early, of course. I have a hard time not giving presents early. It's a heated mattress pad. He always complains about being cold, and I wouldn't be able to stand an electric blanket, so I thought this would provide a nice median point of keeping him warm, and not boiling me out of bed. As a bonus, it felt really good on my back.

About that heated mattress pad, though. It was not a cheap gift, it was listed at $99.99 at Target. But, my Esposo is worth it, and then I don't hear whining, so we went for it. It's more than he spent on my automatic car starter, which he conceptualized for me last year for Christmas and never bought. It's tough to wrap those conceptualized presents. Then we visited his brother in March, and he mentioned his conceptualization and his brother said 'Hey, I've got one of those that I never installed!' And so his brother got me my Christmas present. And yet, it isn't in my car now, either.

So, shopping at Target. Love the Target. Resisted many impulse purchases, bought a gift or two, some holiday plates (we're using my china this year, and the children under six? Are not using my china. Plus, I don't have quite enough plates for that.) I got to the check out line and the mattress pad wouldn't scan. The cashier, she popped up to the service desk and still, it wouldn't scan. I sat there, in no rush, so just standin', waitin'. She came back and asked me what it cost. $99.99, I said. She said, cheerily, I'll give it to you for $89.99 since you had to wait! And that's what happens when you're nice and patient. Let that be a lesson to the screamy angry people of the world.

Holiday Sweets!

Today the workplace is continuing the food fest. Yesterday we had our department lunch, which we had to buy ourselves because the company is doing so poorly that they won't pay for department lunches. But they are paying for a companywide holiday dinner on Thursday, so we're not too bad off, I suppose. For the lunch, people brought in cupcakes and brownies and assorted treats for dessert.

I sit far away from my actual department in the midst of another department. By virtue of location, we are included in the other department's events. Today and Friday they are having sweet tables.

So far there are bagels and cream cheese, cookies, crackers and cheese... all store bought. Where is the joy of the holiday sweet table if everything is store bought? The cookies aren't even holiday cookies!

Nanny 911

Nanny 911 and Supernanny are two of my guilty pleasure shows. I get sucked right in. In a way, they serve to remind me of what I can do as a parent, and in other areas, it's essentially mock the idiot parents.

Esposo, surprisingly, also gets sucked into these shows. It's not the type of thing he should get sucked into and probably would not like me admitting to the internet that he's right there with me. Last night, after he was sick all day and took a nap after I got home (during which I cleaned the house and washed ten loads of laundry... our kid has too many clothes), he wandered down as Nanny 911 started.

In this episode, Dad wasn't pulling his fair share. This is the theme of 95% of the episodes. The family had six kids ages: 8, 7, 5, 3.5, 1.5 and 5 months, and they were open to more. And yet, were having trouble with the SIX they already had.

My favorite part of the show? Listening to Esposo diss the dad! He's so cute! He was mad that the dad was leaving the mom home alone, and that he didn't consider spending time with his kids at home to be an important use of his time. And Esposo was all Why even have kids if you're not going to play with them!?!?

Ah, mi Esposo.

Good morning, good morning!

Luke woke at 4:20 this morning, and I lay in bed praying for his crying to subside and him to go back to sleep. This is what we do now, because sometimes it works, and he sleeps for another hour. Esposo gave in sooner than I did, and found the poor boy had over-peed his diaper and was soaking wet. So mommy has guilt now. What else is new?

I couldn't get back to sleep, and simply got up so I could get to work early and talk to people on third shift, getting in at about 6 AM. I found one person I needed to talk to, out of three, and he gave me bad news. So I puttered around in the early hour not getting anything done and waiting for this guy to come up and talk to me at 7:15 (15 minutes AFTER my usual arrival. They switched his hours and now he stays until 8, so I didn't even have to come in early.).

This fella is a Character. With a capital C. He has ten children. Apparently I look like one of them. He talks incessantly. He has a inability to prioritize what needs to be done next. He talks incessantly. He's about 4 foot 11. And with the talking, he is incessant. He once filled my voice mail giving me an update on something. Then he called back two hours later, just to say he was still trying to get ahold of me, and he filled ANOTHER voice mail. Just to say he was trying to get ahold of me. AGH!

As we are talking this morning, one of the women on the floor stops by to let me know that my lights are on.

Hm, I think, That's odd. My lights go off automatically when I take the keys out of the ignition.

Continue talking to Incessant Character. Continue contemplating lights/car/key situation. Finish conversation with Incessant Character. Look for keys to go turn out lights.

And you all see where this is going, right? Because I couldn't find my keys. Because they were in my car. And my car? It was still running.

Cops were called (yes, they will still come out and slim jim your car, apparently even if you don't know your license plate. 763? 845? And there may be a 2 in there?) and car was opened. It was toasty warm.

Internet at Work

I screw around on the internet an awful damn lot at work. My entire work experience (at least, that which I have had internet access for, say the past six years) I have been waiting for some boss to come up and yell at me "GET OFF THE DAMN INTERNET!"

And they never do. In fact, my favorite screwing around on the internet story is when not my boss, but my boss' boss, came up behind me whilst I played some Yahoo! game and said "Ooh! I haven't played that one yet!" That and the review which was something to the effect of 'Yeah, I see you screwing around on the internet, but I don't care because you meet your goals.' kept me pretty safe at my previous job.

Here, my boss is the ultimate avoider, so I expect to never hear anything from her unless I am eventually fired for internet usage. To which I might say 'Try a little MOTIVATION!' (to inspire me to work 8+ hours a day).

I have some motivation this week. Two projects are rapidly approaching completion. I have spent 90% of today working on said projects, with only brief forays to the internet to break my sad little brain (which is having a big ol' case of the Mondays) between tasks.

And yet, still, my boss comes up behind me when I am reading on the internet (about the Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe... I am TOO excited to see that!!)

Who wrote the rule that thy boss must approacheth thy desk and see thee on the internet even if thee hast been working thyself blind for six hours?

Thees, Thys, and Thous? Fun to use!

Toe, Finger, Poker, and Snow

Last night in my frenzy of activity I clobbered my pinky toe on the trim of a door and broke it. Okay, there wsa no frenzy, and I'm not *positive* I broke it, but I'm pretty darn sure. It's swollen, it hurts, etc. I called our podiatrist, who really is a friend from college so it's not as if I actually have a regular podiatrist when I didn't have a regular dentist for three years, and as expected, she told me don't bother getting it Xrayed, just tape it to it's neighbor.

She also told me not to 'exsanguinate' it, AKA don't tourniquet my toe off. Which, thanks for the tip, honey, but that one I was pretty clear on! I do want to KEEP my toe!

The fact that I broke my toe just hanging out in my house is pretty sad, and the sadder part (for me) is that this is the first bone I've broken in 29 years. A streak broken! And now, I have to endure mocking from Esposo.

Esposo who broke his finger playing softball and required surgery that inserted a 4 inch pin into his finger. It was disgusting. Esposo came home this morning after playing poker with the guys and snowblowed our driveway. Oh, sweet snowblower! And great Esposo! What more can you ask for after the first heavy snow of the season than a freshly snowblowed driveway?

And then he came inside and made fun of me for breaking my toe.

An Evening in Suburbia

Left work 45 minutes early.
Put gas in the car.
Picked up the baby from daycare.
Cancelled evening activites (snow!).
Watched Veronica Marrs (Am addicted. Love DVR.)
Gave baby a bath.
Made chocolate chip cookies (Esposo's fave!)
Broke toe.
Put baby to bed.
Watched CSI.
Went to bed.

Ooh, ah...

The bonus for this working late is really paying off, because results are in and things is looking good! All of this means I may FINISH another project before the end of the year, which is a rocking good thing!

Please note

It is 6:49 PM and I am still at work. This is bad enough, because I got here at 7 AM, so I'm closing in on a 12 hour day.

What's worse? I will be here a few more hours minimally.

Even worse? I just tried to call Meine Mutter and Esposo, and for some reason my phone won't call outside the building. Shit. Cell phone? In the car. Car? Outside, where it is dark and butt ass cold.

I'm working with a guy who is annoyed that I am here and attempting to give me a hard time. Bah! I keep making him initial and date things - I'm in Quality, you twit, I LIVE to give people a hard time.

Now on Friday, I have a meeting to talk about 'this engineering position', which was how the manager of the unit put it when I ran into him to get him to sign something this morning. Ah, I thought, a nice little chat, maybe half an hour. I mean, I've worked with him a bit, he has an idea who I am.

And yet, there's an hour long interview scheduled Friday morning. Pain. In. My. Ass. HOUR? Gah. And he titled it "Interview" all formal like. Do I have to read the interview books?

And to continue the incredily freaking god awful long month, tomorrow I have a meeting at 8, which of course I have to get in at 7 to prepare for it, and then my project is supposed to start sometime between 2 and 5. So, leaving at 4 is a conservative estimate. After a 14-16 hour day today. Say it with me now: Faaahhhhaahhhahahahack.

Aight, I have to go make this guy initial and date more stupid things. Oh, right, yeah, the project I'm working on. Sure, whatever. Sign this.

Refresh, Dammit, Refresh

I bleed internet. It's my lifeline in a dreary desk job (which, I have applied for another job, internally, and am being interviewed, which, hey, step up!). Sometimes, like this morning, when I am just waiting until the next meeting, I roam around the internet looking for new things on my regular haunts and when there aren't any, I just refresh, hoping that something has been missed.

All my emails are through Yahoo!, which has served me well. I won't change, because I've had these emails for 4+ years, and they work well. People from the past can find me, and the best way to find me is email. Yahoo!, though, keeps screwing with me. First, they are frequently trying out new templates on the mail system. And then I can't figure out where to click because I'm expecting to see my old, comfortable, perfectly functional template. And then they're all chipper somewhere on this new page, Do you like our template? Do ya do ya?? and I'm the grumpy old man who says Give me my old template back, you bastards! And yet they keep trying.

Also, Yahoo! has the annoying habit of saying I have a new email even though I have already read the new email they are referring to. Which is where the refresh comes in, because I end up refreshing to make sure that the new email they say I have is actually a new email. And sometimes, even though I refreshed, there's still no new email. Apparently, the system isn't designed to handle people who use Yahoo! email as, essentially, an IM function.

And I don't like IM.

Fast Forward

I need to hit the fast forward button on today. It's going to be long and tiring.

In other news, finished Balzac and The Little Chinese Seamstress last night - really fast read but also a great story.

In other news, Luke has now taken *three* single steps, one on Sunday (result: fell over), one at daycare (result: fell over) and one last night (result: still standing, but he was kind of leaning against something with one ankle).

In other news, tomorrow is Esposo's last final of the semester.

Reading

I've toyed with adding a 'now reading' section to the sidebar of my blog, but that would require knowing the titles of the books I'm reading, and most of the time, I can't do that.

Recently I've finished All Is Vanity, The Secret Life of Bees, The Queen's Fool, and The Virgin's Lover. I give them C, B+, B+, B-, respectively. I'm kind of over the English middle ages reading for awhile, since I started off with The Other Boleyn Girl (A) and reading three books like that in rapid succession is just too much. And plus, you see how they went A, B+, B-? I'm wondering if that's precidely because I read them in rapid succession.

The way I am getting many of my books now is through Bookcrossing - basically, it's a way to trade books with people, at least it is the way I am doing it, since I go to a meeting once a month, approximately. This is fun because 1) free books. And then 2) they are different books than I would have picked up. Because a lot of my friends and family read mysteries and mystery type books and I need breaks from the formula books with real novels that are about characters that will only live in this one book, and there's some overreaching message that the author is trying to convey.

And then, after I read a few novels, I go back to the mysteries, because I need to rest my brain.

My sisters in law are involved in book discussion groups. I don't want to discuss my books. I want to read my good story, get lost in it, and then swim back to reality slowly and comfortably.

What the hell do you people DO?

Yesterday I called Esposo on the way home from work to talk, as he would be leaving as soon as I got home, so we filled each other in on our exciting days. For Esposo, the day consisted of The Baby That Smoked Crack, because Luke had refused to nap and was in an ecstatic, insane mood, which consisted of a lot of crawling and laughing at nothing.

Of course, when I got home, he clawed his way up my legs and lamented the fact that Daddy poked him with sticks and kept him awake for hours and I was forced to put him in his eating chair with Cheerios.

I began making Christmas cookies and I was quite inspired. Not only did I dye the cookie dough green and red, I dyed sugar red, green, blue, and yellow. And then I commenced cookie cut outs! However, I only have the following cookie cutters: girl and boy (from a gingerbread cookie set I once got), Christmas tree, standing Santa, stocking, heart, and a sled. The sled is actually the stupidest thing ever, because you can't tell what it is. I ended up making a LOT of trees.

At 5 PM, Luke was done with the Cheerios and I got out his bottle, laced with prune juice because my baby is perpetually constipated. (On the list of Things You Don't Think About When You Think About Having Children) At 5:15, after getting through only 5 ounces, Luke had passed out completely. I trundled him off to bed and continued making cookies.

And then I watched a little TV. And read. And put up the nativity scene (a small one, not one for the yard or anything). And seriously, I had so much time I was confused all evening. I didn't see anything on TV I wanted to watch, Esposo had cleaned up a lot of the house... it was weird.

Mental

Today I feel as if I have thoughts and ideas, actions and plans all lurking just below the surface. If someone knew the secret word they would unleash a torrent of activity, brilliant reports and witty blog entries. I would be a super shining star at work and at home.

But no one knows the secret word, so instead it's kind of hazy and bleary and I feel mostly frustrated with myself that I can't get going and *do* more on the list of things that I have to do.

And Esposo went to the mall with Luke today to let him play in the play area, which Luke enjoys a lot, and he wasn't going to do any Christmas shopping. Hel-LO! You are at a MALL! Just get ONE gift, mm-kay?

Giving Birth

I have read a number of birth stories on the internet; Dooce, Amalah, Sundry, and Miss Zoot on my list of links all have their birth stories posted in their archives somewhere, and there are other random blogs I've read that didn't stay in my reading rotation. A number of people refer to the love they felt overwhelming them from the second they saw their child.

This is not how it happened for me. I was not an immediate bonder. Of course, Luke was 9 pounds, 8 ounces. That's big, see? And he came out the natural way. I had an epidural, and I was tired by the time the nurses were asking me if I wanted the doctor to help. I didn't understand what they meant by 'help', and I am terrified of C-sections, and in general, any surgery, so I kept asking them what they meant. So finally, the doctor came into help, which meant forceps. Luke was turned a bit and his shoulder did some damage upon exit, so I lay there, my arms semi-numb (which probably means the epidural was travelling a bit too high) and watched them clean up my son. I didn't cry, in general I felt exhuasted and numb.

They stitched me up and I watched them clean up Luke, and when everything was done, they placed him in my arms and left me alone in the room with him. I could barely move (again, epidural too high) and was scared I was going to drop him. It was not the tender moment I had dreamed of, when I first met my child.

Motherhood has been a series of 'this is not what I thought it would be', some good, some bad, and always learning more about myself and my child.

Bleargh

I spent most of this weekend painting. I hurt, because painting, particularly trimming a ceiling, uses muscles that are not typically used. By me, anyway. I don't typically use most of my muscles, and while I realize this is a problem, I haven't found the energy to correct it.

I did not go to my college 'reunion'. Sorry! Basically, friends we haven't seen were having people over to watch the Bears game at their condo, which I hadn't seen. I could bring Luke AND hang out with Esposo. This obviously trumps going to hang out with I-don't-even-know-who, without Esposo. My curiosity did not win out. If Luke didn't require sleep and wouldn't have been a complete pill at the restaurant, I could have made it to both. But I am not masochistic enough to subject myself to a cranky Luke in public, where there would be no toys and no place for him to crawl. This is one of those things I didn't get 'BC' (Before Child). I don't think you can fully get it until you have to schedule and plan around the tiny dictator.

Actually stating that I didn't go because we went somewhere else is a pretty big step. The nice girl in me would never let that be known. I actually crafted an elaborate lie that sounded plausible to cover my tracks, and thought about NOT posting the truth on my blog to cover my tracks even more so. But screw that. I don't lie often, which should be obvious by the fact that I have to think about it so extensively, and I feel bad doing it.

The worst part is that I said I'd be there. That makes it pretty dang rude not to go, because I truly hate it when people say they'll be somewhere and then don't show. Because the message is pretty clear - as I wrote above, that was my point - there is somewhere else they'd rather be and you just don't rank.

Of course, if I had a phone number, I would Have called, but alack, I did not.

Outed

Since Esposo outed himself by commenting to my blog, I'm outing him further by linking to his blog. He actually wrote a humor column in college, is much more about 'being funny', can fill space with words, and uses all letters of the alphabet.

Check out The Dow Is Up. (Link provided to right) (That's the right way to alphabetize, right? Anyone a Library Sciences major out there?)

Fiscally Responsible

While I have made mention of the fact that our finances are on a slightly negative slope, Esposo and I are, in reality, extremely fiscally responsible. We don't buy large items on whims, we carry no credit card debt, and we are both aware of what our monthly bills are, what our monthly income is, what our savings is, etc.

Esposo manages all the (online) bill payments, as it's simply easier to have one person to blame in charge. We're not the only fiscally responsible people in the world, though sometimes it seems that way with the newsreports I see (the average American carried $4,000 in credit card debt! Let's see, if we carry none, someone has $8,000 out there)

I do think we are pretty unique in this, though. We accidentally paid our mortgage on Wednesday AND Thursday. At least the bank is saying our next payment due date isn't until February now....

Rambling

When I put up a title of 'rambling' before I even write a word? You know it's going to be a good blog entry. Oof.

Luke and I hit the mall with an old college friend last night. Mine, not Luke's. One might even say my first college friend, as she was my roommate freshman year. We'll call her Machete. I still remember meeting her for the first time... she showed up later than everyone else on the floor as she was a sophomore and wasn't desperate to get to college like the rest of us (freshmen). So for a few days I was roommateless. And when Machete finally arrived, it was after a long, bad journey in the car and she was in the foulest of moods, dropped her stuff off, snarled a bit, and went off out to dinner.

Fortunately things got better from there and 11 years later we're still friends. She's the only person other than my husband that I've ever shared a ROOM with, and apart from some vacuum issues and some finals week arguments, it was good. Of course, Machete was coming off a year spent with a roommate who did things like give her boyfriend a BJ while Machete was in the hall on the phone. On the phone with a CORD (remember those?). So the cord was in the door and the door was not fully closed. How did Machete find out about the BJ? Call waiting. Niiice. So really, I had the advantage of Machete's low expectations.

My own crazy roommate didn't come until after college. This was the girl who wouldn't wear her glasses to the bar and thus expect me to lead her to the bathroom. Crazy once got angry with her friend who was visiting and left to go home, stranding me out with three of her friends at a bar and throwing a 'Bitch' at me as she left, because I stayed with them. Which seemed to be the right thing to do since they weren't from the city! When we arrived home and hour or two later, she had locked the deadbolt, to which we had no key. No pounding could wake her up, and I ended up calling my ex and asking if I and three random girls could sleep on his floor. He's a nice guy, so he agreed.

Or being on the northwest side of the city on St Patrick's Day, trying to find a cab home in a less than fabulous neighborhood in less than fabulous weather. In a situation like that, you're hoping for good logical thought, not 'I'm going to call my dad!' (a three hour drive away, totally useless) and finally a foot stomping, arm pumping 'We're going to die!'... Afterwards she told me how she can laugh about that night now, but that wasn't a comfort to me!!

Crazy had problems with men, she was desperate to have a boyfriend. We once walked into a bar and were confronted by a sweaty drunk man, whom she latched onto and fiercely whispered to me 'I saw him first!'. I was stunned, especially as I was remotely sober that evening, and was prepared to mock the sweaty drunkenness of him. She met another guy on the train platform and invited him to a party we were hosting, before which she warned me not to hit on him. While platform boy and her dated a few weeks, and dating consisted of sitting in his apartment or going out to Burger King, she stuck with it until he stopped calling. She also stuck with it when another guy insisted on calling her drunk, in the middle of the night, after he had been out. When she would talk to him for an hour or two. Did I mention this was a weeknight and we all had to work the next day?

When she began dating an old flame from college, she threw out the term 'My Boyfriend' so often that we began joking that that was, in fact, his name.

Crazy and I lost touch because I withdrew fast and hard when we separated living quarters. I withdrew while we lived together, too, opting to go to bed early rather than deal with her on a nightly basis.

I debated about writing this type of thing, because every part of me screams 'What if she finds this blog!', but I am risking nothing by posting these stories as we are no longer friends and she is not friends with anyone I know, either. And if she does read it, well, so be it.

Ad

See, you guys have to CLICK on the ad for me to make money. Apparently you are not interested in that. Bah. So, I have not made one red cent from that blog prostitution.

I don't click on blog ads, either.

A Real Mommy

As Luke grows bigger and heads into toddlerhood, I am still coming to grips with being a mommy. It's not about the stuff anymore, I can get him from point A to point B without too much trouble - though it's infinitely more annoying in cold weather to try and get everything in and out of the car without either one of us freezing to death. There are still issues with food to work out, and now we're heading into the biggest issue of all mommyness - the discipline. What surprises me the most is that I am struggling with being a mommy to just one child.

I enjoy Luke every day. He is becoming more and more affectionate and interested in me (and Daddy) as 'others' - people who are not him whom he expects certain things from. As we climbed the stairs yesterday, I kneeled behind him and our faces were side by side looking up the stairs. He leaned over and pressed his cheek to mine with a wild, happy grin. I don't want to rush him through his childhood, but I already feel as if there are unborn children lurking in the corners of my home.

Now that we've started on this journey of parenthood, it seems to me that we should be moving along onto round two. Before my son is even 1!

And yet, I don't want to have my children so close together that I miss special time with them, and their toddlerhood is a blur. And thinking ahead, I don't want to have them all move off to college in rapid succession, ending my parenthood role with one great leap, rather than easing me out of day to day parenting.

I am simultaneously eager to meet my unborn children and eager to spend precious time with Luke alone.

Wednesday

I couldn't think of a title for this entry, can you tell? And yes, I realize it's not Wednesday, but YESTERDAY was Wednesday, and that's mainly what I'm going to talk about.

I painted one wall in my living room Sagey (the dark color in the dining room) and in doing so decided that I would NOT paint the ceilings anything other than white because that would just be way too much green. And there's only so much green one can take.

Luke was fabulous while I painted, he sat nearby and played with his toys, he only headed for the paint tray once or twice. So after about 45 minutes of painting we played 'climbing up the stairs' for awhile, which he adores.

It was a good night.