One More Mommy

Thoughts of a mom and her husband, son, daughter, pets, friends, job (or lack thereof), house, family, trying to be more ecologically aware...

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Uh, whoops

I didn't have time to get a picture this morning, but I did have time to trim off my son's bangs. His forehead is suddenly very large.

I didn't want to spend $25 for as little hair as he has to be trimmed, so naturally, I took the scissors into my own hands. Like the time my mome trimmed my hair in seventh grade and it just kept getting shorter and shorter because she couldn't get it to be even? Was that not enough of a lesson to me to let people who are TRAINED weild the scissors?

I'll get a pic up later...

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Befri and Stends

I'm sure just about every woman who was a girl in the 80's understands that title. Those incredibly popular charms which were designed to be two halves of a heart or circle, with two friends each wearing a half. Together they read Best Friends.

I was the proud owner of two Best Friends charms, one of which slipped off my necklace in a muddy bottomed lake in northwest NJ, never to be seen again. I was heartbroken about losing that charm. I was about ten at the time, and the girl who held the other half was in California. I hadn't seen her since the beginning of first grade, when I was five (almost six), and we had written each other for years proclaiming ourselves to be best friends.

When I think of my childhood from age 5 to 12, there are seven girls who really meant a lot to me. I have no idea how three of them turned out, though I've googled them, their names are too common. One I know became very religious, and her family may have been Mormon. Two of the other three may be reading this blog (Hi Mandy! Hi Beffy!) and the third of those three is living it up in NY, per Mandy. We used to sign our notes 'LYLAS', which Beffy and I changed to 'LYLARSHS' (Love ya Like a Real Sister, Half Sister).

Since then, from age twelve on, to almost twenty nine today, there are five girls I count myself as close to. Seven years, seven girls. Seventeen years, five girls.

And I've just come to the point, after knowing the 'new' girls 17, 7, or 5 years, of beginning to refer to any of them as 'one of my best friends'. None of my relationships measure up to those early friendships. I'm sure I've romanticized those years, but I've only been given one surprise party, and it was at age 11. People I feel the need to call on a regular basis to just talk to number only a handful. I truly miss the passion of those young relationships, and I just don't know how to recapture it.

I no longer have either Befri or Stends charms, I only vaguely remember what they looked like. And I wouldn't have the confidence now to give a Befri charm to anyone and know that they understood what it meant, as I did when I was young.

Edited to add: To those friends with whom I am beginning to apply that 'best' moniker, and others, this is no problem on your part! It's all about me and my inability to really get close to women friends. Just so you know, I really want to be that close, I just don't seem to be able to do it.

Haircut?

Technically, Luke has already had his first haircut. He came out with a full head of hair, and he never lost it. It just grew longer and longer in the front, while it broke off in the back from him laying on his back (Back to Sleep!).

So my son, he has a reverse mullet. He's all party up front and business in the back!

It got to the point that the hair on the sides of his head was giving him wings, and generally just very goofy looking. So we opted to get our scissors out at home and give him his first haircut. Snip, snip, and we were done.

This didn't solve the problem of all the hair on TOP of his head, which has continued to grow, and is now starting to get in his eyes. I brush it to the side, I think about putting a little ponytail on top of his head...

The boy needs a haircut. And since my brother is coming to town this weekend and we've scheduled the first family portrait since I was about 13, I might have to push this issue.

What is a normal age for a first haircut? 7.5 months seems too young!

Gettin' Fancy!

I added a spiffy site counter to my blog, and edited some settings to encourage more site visits. Because this hobby can be obsessive!

I continued my love affair with the DVR last night, and recorded many shows that will now sit patiently waiting for me to view them. *contented sigh* But the TV watching, it gives me little to talk about.

So now, I'm already breaking my rules o' blogging - ie, have a point. I have no point.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Fans!

For those of you who didn't go to a large school, you may not be able to understand this at all.

I went the University of Illinois. I've been throwing out the number '36,000' for the number of students for years now, the UIUC website (http://www.uiuc.edu) states that there are 40,360 total: 29,294 undergraduate and 11,066 graduate and professional. Also, there are 374,744 living graduates of the Urbana-Champaign campus.

Which means there are roughly 374,743 people out there that I can say "EYE-ELL-ELL!" to and they will respond with an "EYE-EN-EYE!" Except for the people who are against the Chief. (And don't talk to me about the Chief. Because they were arguing about it in the 80's. They were arguing about it when I started college. And they're still arguing about it now. I. Don't. Care. Anymore.)

I didn't think I was a large school kind of girl when I went to college, I just actually only applied to one school. I mean, U of I had a good engineering program, it was instate and cheap. I was definitely not a school spirit kind of girl when I packed up my stuff and headed to college.

U of I is insular - there really isn't much of anything in the Champaign-Urbana area besides 40,000 other students. And when you're 18? What else do you need anyway? So four (or five and a half) years of being subtley brainwashed by orange brought me into the Illini fold.

U of I is historic - it was founded in 1867. My grandfather attended the UIUC campus for his masters in Chemistry (which I didn't know until I had been there a few years). Our buildings have been reincarnated with different functions through the years. Our campus isn't the prettiest, but they're working really hard at making it nicer. But we have a great Quad.

The U of I is part of the Big Ten Conference, which has eleven schools. And how awesome is that to be part of a conference that can't count? There's Northwestern, Indiana, Michigan, Minnesota, Iowa, Michigan State, Penn State, Purdue, Wisconsin, and Ohio State. When it comes to college sports, I root for the Illini, then Northwestern, and then the rest of the Big Ten. Anecdotal evidence indicates that many Big Ten alumni feel the same way. We're midwestern, we're nice like that.

I've attended football games at Northwestern, Michigan, Wisconsin, Purdue, and Ohio State. By far, the worst fans were OSU, but they got over losing to us (yes, they lost to the Illini when we were there...) and were friendly at the bars. Overly friendly, one might say. Some Wisconsin fans were actually mean, too, but in general I've found Wisconsin fans good. Surprisingly, though Michigan is generally hated, I had no problems with their fans.

I haven't seen anyone else on their turf, but the MSU fans at last weekend's game were nice! They didn't taunt us much for our sad sad showing... Go Illini!

DVR, how I doth love thee

We just got DVR last Wednesday, and I'm thinking that this should be a must for all new parents. I love it so... I spent a lot of the day Sunday watching bad TV, but not missing ANY of it because I could pause!

I saw my first full episode of Desperate Housewives yesterday afternoon. I can see why everyone's so into that show, but Sunday night hasn't worked for me - YAY DVR! And then I was able to watch both my newsprogrammy show and the new sitcom, though they were on AT THE SAME TIME.

Oh DVR, I love thee for thy flowing commercials, for the forwarding through the things that which I can not buy nor do I want to buy for I do not believe in advertising.

I love thee for thy pause and rewind, for my child, he doth scream for food, and my dog, she doth bark for food, and thus I can attend to their needs without missing any part of the show. And when I feel the need to get up and clean for five minutes, I can pause you and return to my show where I left it.

Oh, DVR, I love thee for thy no tape requirement, because I do hate the VCR and the black unlabeled tapes and the running out of room on the tape and the accidentally taping over.

I love thee for thy remote that doth control the TV though it annoys me that I have to get the other remote out to turn on the subtitles for I am deaf and the background music is too loud and I hate to miss things.

I think we have what it takes, DVR, to make it long term.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Hail to the Orange...

Hail to the Blue, HAAAIL ALLL-MA MATER, EEEEE-VER SO TRU-uuue.

But the Illini, they sucketh.


Luke and Andrew sport their matching Illini gear.

We made a trip the University of Illinois this past weekend, to watch them get soundly beat in the Big Ten opener. We presumed it would be easiest to leave Friday night so Luke would sleep the way down in the car, and then return home in the evening as well. The trip is only two and a half hours, so this seemed like a great plan. We'd get some time to walk around campus (a LOT has changed, much building going on!) and see the old sights.

Friday night was smooth hitting the road. The ride was smooth. We checked in easily. Luke was in a decent mood after sleeping on the trip down.

And then we put him to bed in the Pack N Play. He was NOT happy. He hasn't EVER screamed that much when we've put him to bed, even the first night we used the 'let him cry it out' technique. Luke is a very curious and involved baby, and going to sleep has always been low on his list of things to do. Even when he's in a foul mood, he'd rather stay up than go to sleep.

So we lay there and listened to him scream for about 45 minutes, I'd guess.

He woke up in a good mood, and was pretty good all day long outside in the hot sun (yes, hot sun in September... I was hoping for a cool day) and didn't cry when he found out that the team he was rooting for was really really really bad. So it was a bad trip/good trip kind of weekend.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Scary!

Luke and I took a class together over the summer, where we sat with other moms and sang songs. The teacher had a three year old daughter as well and we all shared parenting stories.

The teacher's daughter wouldn't let her vacuum. She hated the loud noise. We have a family friend who has a five year old who clasps her hands over her ears at lound noises, as well. Both are little girls, I don't know if that says anything.

This week I was vacuuming the downstairs as Luke crawled around and he was amazed by the vacuum cleaner. He was amazed and he thought it was GREAT! He dragged himself happily after it while I vacuumed.

Later in the week, we went to a mommy group at a place with an indoor carousel. There were three little boys under a year, and they had all never been on a carousel. They all did well for a few minutes, until one little boy was a little overwhelmed, which makes sense - he was spinning in a circle, going up and down, and there were lights all over. But Luke, he cried when the carousel STOPPED.

I may have a daredevil on my hands...

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Money

Money has always been a difficult topic for me, because I don't have a rational relationship with money. As a child, when I played 'house' with my dolls, I (as the mommy) went off to work each day, and I paid myself in a wage in pennies, and then my doll family and I would go buy things at the store while we saved to buy a new house. I got raises in my imaginary job and then we'd have more 'take home pennies' and would be able to afford more stuff.

Is that weird? It seems kind of weird.

I've never been in debt (besides the good debt, you know, a mortgage) or reached a critical stage with money. I don't know if I could handle it, because now, as I support our little family while my husband goes to school, and our monetary situation isn't going in a positive direction, I completely lose it at times. I panic.

My husband and I were discussing finances last night, and how we really have cut down to the basics. I've actually become much better about bringing my lunch to work, which is something I hate to do. But we also signed up for DVR through our cable company, which is an extra $10 a month. I figure I can easily make that up by bringing my lunch four days a month.

This has made me a wee bit, um, shall we say, crazy? Because it's now turned into a challenge for me to see how little money I can spend on non-essentials. I've spent $1.50 this week.

I win!

Animals lower our blood pressure

Pets have been shown in all sorts of studies to lower blood pressure and provide a host of other emotional and physical benefits (I'd look up the articles I read this in, but I'm really too dang lazy).

They must study people who don't have pets like mine. Because my animals, definitely raising my blood pressure.

As I've mentioned, we have serious issues with our dog.

Having a dog that you can't let out in your fenced backyard for worry of what she might do - very stressful.

Coming home to an accident in the crate on Tuesday? Annoying, but okay, I felt bad because she couldn't hold it anymore.

When she had an accident yesterday when my husband was only gone for an hour? Stressful and annoying.

Then there's the cats. Having a cat curl up next to you on the couch? Cute.

Having a cat kneading the pillow next to your head at 2 AM and sticking his butt in your face? Stressful and annoying.

Having a cat IN YOUR FACE trying to get in your cereal bowl? Stressful and annoying.

Having a cat like to climb into weird places in the basement and onto the logs (unburned, so not sooty) in the fireplace? Cute.

Having a cat crawl into the wall and GET STUCK IN BETWEEN the floor and ceiling? Stressful and annoying.



And having indoor cats that desperately try to escape every time you open the sliding glass door? Annoying.

Having cats KNOCK THE SCREEN OUT and escape from the house so that you have to go outside and hunt them down at 6:25 AM when you haven't eaten breakfast and are supposed to leave for work in five minutes? Stressful and annoying.

And the cat that escaped this morning? Laying in the grass on the side of the house meowing as I called him, because he didn't know what the hell to do. Here's a tip, cat: If you're that much of a wuss, STAY IN THE HOUSE.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

I don't have Quirks

People often discuss their quirks. I can never come up with any suitably weird quirks to compare to other's deathly fear of spiders, their need to pace back and forth seven times before going to sleep, or that they tie their shoelaces only by using bunny ears.

Nope, nope, I'm all around normal. Just your average everyday quirkless person.

Right.

At lunch today, I had a hot pocket, a bag of chips, and a soda. My hotpocket came in a plastic bag, so I put the cooking sleeve in that once it was done cooking. Then I put my knife and fork in the bag when I was done eating. When I finished the bag of chips, I put the hotpocket bag (with the knife, fork, and sleeve) into the bag from the chips, along with my napkin. Then I finished my soda in it's styrofoam cup, and I proceed to wedge everything into the cup.

Which is when I noticed the people I eat with staring at me, because, um, this is weird. I compact all my garbage into one little container.

Okay, so I have a quirk.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Everyday is Awesome

As I wrote recently, infants are a reminder to take each day and savor it, to enjoy the little things. And the little things can be hysterical!

Luke had a great day at daycare - he took a total of three hours of naps! That's stellar for this kid. So when I picked him up he was up and about and in a fantastic mood.

When I walk into the room to pick up Luke from daycare, I can say "Hi, Luke! Come on over!" He sees me and breaks into a huge grin and creeps his way across the floor (he doesn't crawl, he pulls himself forward with his arms and kicks with his left leg, ONLY his left leg. He's still pretty darn fast.) I can't tell you how awesome it is to have a baby creeping full speed at you because he's soooo happy to see you!

Then at home, we were playing on the floor, and he said "Mmm, GAH". Because having a conversation with an infant is tough, I just repeated it back to him, which he thought was THE FUNNIEST THING EVER. He laughed again and again as I repeated it to him, his little legs lifting off the floor as he busted a gut. He laughed so hard he fell over backwards! How adorable is THAT!?! I sat him back up, and one "Mmm, GAH" sent him right back into torrents of laughter.

Everyday is awesome.

They're Killing Fields

I can not believe how upset I am that there will no longer be Marshall Field's in Chicago. I'm so tired of everything being nationwide, I wanted Fields to stay as Fields, and be all Chicago-centric.

Random Day

Last night I vividly dreamt that my husband and I had robbed three places for some extra cash. We didn't get much money, and I presumed that the authorities had stopped looking for us. I was still VERY nervous in my sleep. This is probably from the movie trailer for 'Fun With Dick and Jane' we saw this weekend.

As we were getting ready this morning, a boy/man walked by the house, talking about how he was in such a good mood and having a great day! Except he was walking alone. I looked up and down the street for anyone he could be talking to, but there was no one. Is it crazier to talk REALLY LOUD to yourself or to mutter? At least if you're talking REALLY LOUD, no one has to wonder...

Monday, September 19, 2005

Am Domestic Goddess

In my TV free evening, I:

Vacuummed the upstairs hallway.
Washed the kitchen and hallway floors, including MOVING FURNITURE.
Washed the entryway rugs.
Put some hardwood floor restorer on the kitchen floor which was supposed to make it look less crappy. It failed, but still, floor more protected.
Put away renegade laundry.
Vacuummed the living room and dining room.
Made Jello.
Packed my lunch for tomorrow.
Baked bread.

What?!?!

I BAKED BREAD. See:



My mom gave me this bread mold awhile ago, from Pampered Chef, and it was looking at me all the time, making me feel guilty because I had never used it. I was going to make a pumpkin bread, because it's that time of year, but I didn't know how that would turn out, so I tried the recipe on the instruction sheet. It's appetizer bread... got a party you need appetizers for??

I also played with Luke a lot. Did I mention my boy has blue blue eyes??





Now he's screaming his head off because he doesn't want to sleep. Or eat. Or be awake. Even Domestic Goddesses can't contend with cranky seven month olds.

TV Free

Raising children is full of charged issues. Everyone's got an opinion, and a lot of people feel the need to foist them on you. Fortunately, I don't have friends and family who foist things on me. Because I do not do well with foisting.

Recently, I read this post over at DotMoms. Even though the author begins by talking about how they are doing things that work for their family, you can definitely sense the negative view of television. I read through quite a few comments and there's a lot of disapproval in the tone of those comments, many references to using 'television as a babysitter'.

I like TV. I'm particularly into HGTV and The Learning Channel. My husband likes TV - The Simpsons is an obsession with him. This Wednesday (TWO DAYS! SO EXCITED!) we are getting DVR so that we can record the shows we want to and be able to watch them because with Luke we simply can't watch a full hour.

Luke has three or four Baby Einstein videos, and some other tapes I've picked up at garage sales. He doesn't watch the shows we watch, but put on one of those and he's enthralled. When he gets older, I'm sure he'll be watching Sesame Street. After all, my brother was a Sesame Street junkie and now he's a doctor. So obviously watching Sesame Street is directly linked to doctorness!

TV is a cultural touching stone. I fondly remember camping out in front of the TV on Saturday mornings. Top conversations to get to know your dorm mates in college: childhood TV. Best way to get to know new coworkers: Do you watch Survivor? Why do shows make us laugh? Because we've been there. In college my life paralleled a Friends story arc.

All that said, I want Luke to develop a healthy relationship with the TV. I feel like my childhood was well mixed - I certainly spent a lot of time playing with my friends, reading, and imagining. I don't feel as though I'm well mixed now. I have turned on the TV for background too often.

So tonight, since it's just Luke and I, and there's nothing I particularly want to see, we're going to go TV free.

I Love the Internet

Yahoo! Search- Popular terms: Gas Prices, Baby Names, NFL, Jessica Simpson, Recipes

Yes, yes, I love the internet.

Gas prices? Getting better, saw $2.69 on the way in yoday.

Baby Names? Well, we have ours, but I understand that. Sadly, The Internet was not the best place to find baby names. It overwhelmed, and with wacky names.

NFL? Oh yeah, Go Bears!

Jessica Simpson? I don't know! What HAS happened to her? I should check it out!

Recipes? Oops, yes I need to send some on, and find some new ones so we can eat healthier.

Time is Flying

I went to my cousin's baby shower yesterday. She's due in five weeks and time is moving slowly for her, nights are long and sleepless. I remember those weeks, the waiting that never seemed as though it would end, wanting desperately to see this new person who was being formed. For her sake I hope the next five weeks go quickly, smoothly.

One of my best friend's father is dying. On the outside they're giving him six months. Which is exactly how far away her wedding is. I remember going through that, and trying to live normally though nothing was normal. I hope for her sake (and her father's) that each day lasts a hundred hours.

One of my cousins was born on the same day that my father died. It's not a cousin I'm close to, as a matter of fact, I've only met her two or three times in my life. But it always seemed like an unusual, important thing, to know someone who was born as someone else died.

The past seven months seem enormously more important than any other seven months of my life, because they represent my son's ENTIRE life thus far. It is important to me that I try to show him as many things in the world as possible. Yesterday my husband brought him to the baby shower, so that he could meet my aunts and cousins. I was glad we took that opportunity, though he cried at meeting so many new people, and reached out for me to keep ahold of him.

Just six months ago, Luke never slept through the night.

Just five months ago, he moved into the crib in his room.

Just four months ago, he rolled over for the first time.

Just two months ago, he was learning to sit up.

Just over a month ago, his first teeth came in.

Just two weeks ago, he learned how to creep around the house.

Having an infant is a lesson in how important every day is. You learn that when you're pregnant, especially if you're concerned with premature birth. Every single day you don't have the baby is a victory. I thought about those milestones through my pregnancy though I had no scares of preterm labor. And after they're born, you learn that every single day they're learning something new.

I'm looking forward to this fall. This weekend we're taking Luke to his first football game. My brother is coming in for his second visit to see Luke - ever. We've got his Halloween costume ready to go. And Christmas - I admit to thinking too much about Luke's first Christmas, and soon after that, how we are going to celebrate his first birthday.

But THIS morning I enjoyed feeding him a bottle while he kept his eyes closed and snuggled against me, his hand again finding my thumb to stroke it and hold it. This morning I tickled him on the family room floor until he giggled just to see me raise my hands. This morning he crawled around the upstairs hallway as I sat at the top of the stairs taking pictures and realized that my quick swipe with the vacuum last night didn't do much against the the embedded dog hairs. This morning we got up close, nose to nose, and talked.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

20 times this morning

Over and over again this morning, Mocha was doing this:






















Well, not that. I mean, that's not anything, she was doing this:






















Hmph. Not that either! Now really, THIS is what she was doing:






















Over and over she leapt the baby gate in a single bound. She loves it. One of my many regrets with Mocha is that I was never able to do agility with her, because I think she'd be great at it.

Also - do you know how hard it is to get a picture of a jumping dog? Very.

Sweet sweet baby morning

Last night was one of the good nights. After feeding Luke two jars of baby food (covering meat, veggies, AND fruit!), I actually made a healthy dinner for my husband and I while Luke sat at the table with us eating veggie puffs. It was a picture of suburban familial bliss, straight out of 1950's TV.

Luke and I walked to the park to give M a chance to grade some papers for the class he's TAing and there we met a man and his son, and we chatted as we pushed the boys on the swings. Luke watched the almost three year old in awe.

On the walk home, Luke spit up on my hand, jeans, and down to my toes, but hey, he had been on the swing for fifteen minutes!

The rest of the evening Luke was a happy camper. And this morning? I was a happy camper, because I woke up at 5:30 and realized that Luke was still asleep. I could enjoy laying bed for a few minutes. I had had uninterrupted sleep for over seven hours.

Luke woke at 5:45 in a rather bad mood, so I hurried him downstairs for the morning bottle. As he and I sat on the couch, he did one of those things that I specifically want to remember. As he's eating, he holds the bottle with one hand and uses the other to find my hand and he strokes my fingernails with his fingers. It's an absentminded kind of thing, and I love when he does it.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Food... oh, food

One of my biggest worries when I think about raising Luke isn't discipline, or drugs, or disease. It's feeding him the right things.

I was a horribly picky child. We ate pretty much two vegetables for dinner because of me: corn or peas. I would leave those for last, until they were cold and slimy. Then I would force in a bite, and swallow it all whole by chugging whatever I had to drink. I shudder thinking about those peas. I would sit at the table for hoooouuuuurs trying to ignore the three bites of peas I had left. I still hate peas, and have refused to eat them since age 14.

I also have a horrible sweet/snack tooth. 10 oreos in a sitting? No problem! A bag of chips will be half gone after one sitcom. So I struggle with good eating habits myself, and the extra weight that goes with snacking like I do. I want to teach my children better eating habits than I have.

Which means what with a seven month old? Daycare told me that they think Luke needs more solids to be able to nap better, so I have to supply them with jars of baby food for a midday feeding. Already Luke doesn't like applesauce, or bananas. He's okay with green beans and peas, but he really loves his rice cereal. I've heard you have to introduce a food to a child ten times before they might like it, so...

I went out to Jewel last night (coupons in hand, because, am broke. Also, cheap.) and bought 40 jars of baby food. Apples and pears, plums, peaches, sweet potatos and apples, chicken, carrots, peas, sweet corn casserole, chicken noodle dinner - wow, the variety they have in baby food! I didn't not get something because I don't like it, though every time he eats peas, someone else has to feed him (GAG, GAG).

We get home and I pop open a jar of pears, and with every bite, Luke makes an unpleasant face, all one eye closed and tongue half out his mouth, but we got through the Stage 1 jar. Next, we try squash. That didn't fly AT ALL. Luke cried and pushed away the spoon. So I tried chicken - which seemed to be straight shredded chicken and the taste was overwhelming for Luke. I ended up mixing it with... just guess... yeah, rice cereal! He took it all very happily then!

But now, am I supposed to be feeding him fruit a certain number of times a day? Meat? How does this whole food pyramid thing work with infants? How do I deal with him at age 2 or 3 when he's got peas and mom doesn't have any? Are those fruit/veggie puffs actually any good for him?

And what did I have for dinner last night? Three pieces of leftover pizza and a granola bar. Obviously this whole thing needs work.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Being a mommy

Being a mommy is not a simple thing. It requires everything from you. At all the moments you're not quite prepared to give everything.

It's not too hard to be a good mommy when your child is happy and giggling, when you've had enough sleep and you have nowhere to be at any particular time. When you're somewhat caught up on laundry and housework and you don't have to work overtime. So that covers what, about an hour over a week's time?

Yesterday I got a headache about 11 AM. Turns out I'm somewhat addicted to caffeine and I forgot to have any in the morning. My headache never fully went away though I took medicine and drank some soda. By the time I got home I was ready for a somewhat relaxing night in.

Which Luke was not ready for. He was ready for mommy to carry him everywhere, and by the way, standing in one spot eating dinner or watching TV is not acceptable. After about an hour of trying to get through some sort of 'home' routine - dinner, mail, straighten the house, I was able to fully devote myself to my son.

I was happy to turn off the TV and pull out toys and just PLAY with him for awhile.

Which is when he started the puking. Or spitting up, I should say. He crawled, and spit up, and then put his little fingers in it to play with it. He sat up, reached for something, and spit up. He sat and played with a toy, and spit up all over it. He stood up and played at an activity table, and spit up all over it.

After about roughly the eighth spit up in less than ten minutes, I was frazzled, and grossed out. The pile of wipes was high, and Luke was none the worse for wear. He grabbed at the plastic wipe bag and I took it from him, saying NO! just a little louder and harsher than I wanted to.

I took my sweet boy to my husband, working upstairs, and handed him off. Then I went downstairs and got out the Resolve and cleaned the stains from the carpet, and frantically cleaned a bit more, probably hoping I could 'fix' this little issue. Within 5 or 10 minutes I had worked off my frustration and was ready to play with and love on my little boy again.

My husband and I ended up at either ends of the upstairs hallway, with Luke and Mocha. Mocha would sit with one of us and Luke would crawl towards her. When he got close, the other one of us would call Mocha to them, so Luke would turn around and follow her. He was happy and laughing about all this, because he still thinks it's pretty amazing that he can move on his own. Mocha (our poor, sweet, dog aggressive Mocha) was loving being pet and held by us. Luke spit up a few more times but it didn't bother us then.

Afterwards Luke and I moved to the full length mirror where we sat admiring this adorable baby. I pointed out eyes and ears and cheeks, but Luke was happy just banging his hands against the mirror. And I was happy with that, too.

Sometimes I'm not the mommy I want to be, but sometimes I am.

There are a few reasons I wanted to have a blog. One is that I like to write things down. Two, my storytelling abilities need work (though they need more work verbally than written). And three, um, I know there was another reason... oh yeah, I forget things. Writing not only preserves things to be reread, it cements events in my head.

I was reading through my old journals recently, and what struck me about them was what I DIDN'T write. I was prolific with several swear words, which was about the only way I ever rebelled as a child. I wrote about people and events without providing any background. I wrote brazenly and with strong and volatile words like 'hate'.

But I didn't write about my father.

Now, as I write here, my intent is to save moments with people. To remind myself why I love my husband (he got up at three this morning with Luke) and my friends (and I think of one of my best friends who is currently struggling with her father's imminent death) and to remember moments with my son I already want to hold onto forever (this morning I filled the sink with water and let him splash around in it).

Because it goes so fast, and I want to keep it all.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Blogging Naivety

I'm a happy little blogger today, getting myself all settled and copying old entries from another site into pretty blogger site. So spiffy! And pictures! And still free! (am cheap)

I giddly saw that I had three, THREE comments! Could it be that people had already found my blog and liked it?

Moron.

I didn't KNOW about the comment spam. I am a naive little innocent at blogging, and I didn't know that comment spam existed. Gah! Oh yeah, they all covered it up with some little note about how they liked my site, but it was spam. Well, I don't want to help you get your funds out of Nigeria!

So if someone REAL actually reads this? Could you comment? And make a sad baby blogger's day?

Photo Entry!


Here is Luke before we knew he was Luke and just after we found out that he was a he! Wasn't he a cute little Blasty O'Cyst? Actually, at this point, he was far far beyond the blastocyst stage, but we called him Blasty. That's right, son, BLASTY.


Here he is in his crib with his favorite cat, Simba, at about 5.5 months!


Looking the Mr. Prep that he SO is at about 6.5 months!

And so I became a woman...

"March 12, 1986

Today I got my period.
It doesn't hurt a
bit. Nothing much
happened in school.
I don't want to
make this page
long so this is all
I am writing.

March 13, 1986

Today I did not get
my period. Mrs. R,
the nurse, gave me
some pads + a book
let on periods and
stuff like that. It had
stuff about boys, too.
It's not bad at alll.
I got a new suit +
jacket. I also got a
pretty purse but my
mother bought it. I
have to carry a-
round little pads in
my purse in case I
get my period in schoo
l."

Um, I was NINE and in FOURTH GRADE when this happened. And far from the lackluster impression I gave here of receiving the booklets on my (and my classmates) impending sexual maturity, I clearly remember spending the entire recess with my friends looking at these pamphlets.

All spacing presented in the diary entries is as written in by me, age 9. I particularly like when I continue one letter onto the next line. And this is writing from what was considered a GOOD student. I feel for elementary teachers, really I do.

Oldest preserved diary entry

Earliest known diary entry....

Saturday, March 1, 1986

"Today, sucha got a new
toy that is squeaky It
is shaped as a news
paper. It is called the
Daily Growl. Today I
just bought this diar
y. I am glad my
brother will not touch
this diary. I will still
hide it because of
my father. My favor-
ite boy is Gary
Carlson."

All night long!

Luke is sick. Not super sick, but mild cold kind of sick. So when he says 'da da da da da' it sounds like he was smoking cigarettes and drinking beer until all hours of the night. Which he was NOT because we only give him hard alcohol, I'm not raising a wuss!

Hmph.

I picked him up from daycare (he's so cute! He's all over the floor and hates when you put him somewhere else! Um, yeah, I know.) and we went home.

Bad mood bad mood bad mood. Crying, hold me, crying, arching back, hold me, STAND UP, clutching.

Fed him a bottle... halfway through, rejecting bottle and arching back and SOOOOO upset.

Fine, so about 4:45 I put him to nap. He passed OUT. I mean, sheesh, he didn't even finish all the Jack in his bottle.

I woke him about 6, because I didn't want him to sleep TOO long, and he was STILL PO'd. So I out him back to bed, and he was out in 2 seconds. He woke up about 6:30 and was in a better mood, but not great.

At 8:10, after another bottle, which he ate almost all of, he went right to bed without ANY crying, and woke up at 5:45 this morning.

Glory glory hallelujah. Nine and a half hours. And he was in a HAPPY mood this morning. Now that's some nice mommy time.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Today's Thoughts

...in attempt to keep my mind off the fact that I may as well take Mocha in and have her put to sleep and I am DEFINITELY not strong enough to do that to a young, healthy animal, I could only do that for Corky because he was in so much pain and couldn't eat or drink and was dryheaving all day. I can't imagine how people do that, because I get weepy about seeing animals that have been hit by cars.

And anyway, most likely Mocha will not be put down, someone who is much better at training will see her potential to not be a spazz dog, and work on training her until she is perfect. And then can I have her back?

But yeah, not overly emotional AT ALL.

I still have a hole in my tooth, which is really getting annoying, and it hurts. I assume it hurts because when I chew I essentially am chewing using a small part of my GUMS and ow. Gums were not made for chewing. I should call the dentist again, but now I'm only two weeks from the appointment. Buck up, little buckaroo!

Luke slept like an A-NUMBAH-ONE CHAMPEEEEEN of the world last night, for which I am incredibly grateful, because with the aforementioned stress, I did NOT need to be dealing with crying baby at 2 AM or 4 AM. And he was a happy camper this morning! And is not at all disturbed by seeing his mother crying.

I have veered completely away from my diet, with the emotionalness, first I had a healthy bowl of cereal this morning, with my milk (3 servings a day can help you lose weight, in case you haven't heard from the incredible media blitz the dairy industry put out - THREE! SERVINGS! A! DAY!), but then I had a doughnut when I got in. Mmmm, doughy sugar goodness. And then I had a pack of Snackwells (because I LIKE Snackwells cookies, not because I suffer the delusion that they are GOOD for me).

So now, Fat. And emotional.

Very Hard Decision

We've decided that we can no longer keep Mocha. She got under the fence yesterday and attacked a dog walking by. When it's at the point that we can't even let her out in our own backyard, it's time to give up the fight for her. I'm a wreck. I love that dog. She loves us, and I worry about what will happen to her. The place we adopted her from says they will take back any dog for any reason.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Random, very random

You should never have more than four pennies. If you have more than four pennies you are not MANAGING your penny in/out very well. Like pennies, you should never have more than a dollar in change.

(My husband doesn't spend his change, he gives it to me, so I end up violating both those rules. But I have change for a soda.)

Eyebrows should be tweezed/waxed regularly. I frequently forget that I am from eastern european peasant stock and suddenly notice that my eyebrows are taking over my face. I carry my tweezers with me in my purse so I can tweeze at work and in the car. Which means I frequently can't find my purse when I have time to tweeze at home.

Tweezing hurts, but waxing requires someone else to be involved - ie, appointments, going places, paying money.

I always prefer to do things in a way that doesn't require anything of or from other people. I have very specific ideas about what I need/want to get done and other people do not conform to my schedule. People that I make appointments with do not keep them as well as I would like. This upset me, since I always show up early.

Being a mommy has changed me from 'showing up early' to 'showing up on time'. I suppose I should have sympathy for mommies who show up late because they might once have been on-timers. I don't. Lateness drives me CRAZY.

Related to lateness, poor planning drives me crazy. I can handle an open plan, but things like 'when?' and 'where?' must be somewhat structured or you never GET to 'What?' and 'Who?'.

My house should be cleaner than it is. I hate it a lot. I really hate dirty dishes in my sink and on my counters. I generally like to have counters clear of stuff. They never are, unless I relocate the pile to another part of the house. I don't know what to DO with the pile to make it less pile-y. I go through it a lot and the stuff seems like stuff I should keep, but right now I couldn't tell you what's in the two main piles in my house. One of them has a binder.

Animals should NOT be given up. Yes, I'm back to that, and I'm still upset.

Seven Months

Bad bad mommy forgot that today was Luke's seven month birthday! SEVEN! He's almost been outside as long as he was inside! So in true MommyBlog form, it's time for a newsletter...

To my beautiful blue eyed son:

Oh, those blue eyes. People ask me all the time if you're going to keep them, and I can happily tell them YES! because we're past the six month point. I don't know what color your hair is going to be when you have more of it, but there are hints of red in there now.

You started crawling last week. CRAWLING. You use your arms to drag and your left leg to kick yourself forward and aim yourself at the dog, shoes, the newspaper - in other words, anything that is not baby-appropriate. I'd let you play with paper, but since Daddy told the story of the guy who accidentally gave his kid a paper cut on the eye, well, no paper.

You are getting clingy, which I'm not too happy about. You want to be held and walked around a lot, and that makes it really difficult to do things, you know, like pee. And when I set you down, it's as if I set you on a bed of nails, is how much it hurts for you to be on the floor when you want to be held. And now that you can move, you move towards me and try to drag yourself up my body.

And to that end, you have pulled yourself up now, too. We've witnessed you hanging on the edge of your crib, trying to steady yourself, so we'll be dropping that lower to prevent you diving out of the crib. At seven months. This seems too soon, my little baby!!

You love Simba, you laugh and laugh at him. You love Mocha, when she kisses your face. She let you crawl all over her yesterday for awhile, but barked when you got too annoying. Daddy and I separated you two, but you weren't upset at all by the barking. Not much upsets you. Basically not being held when you want to be, and not eating when you want to be. No loud noises or anything like that upset you.

Your babbling is becoming much more varied and we've started to play the repeating babble game. da-da-da-da-da and di-di-di-di-di are good ones. You have a very high pitched babble, and you like to scream a lot - you like it when we scream back, too!

You're my wonder, my life, my son, my anchor, and you make me want to have more children every day. I look forward to all we have to share together, and am always looking to show you new things.

Electronics

We have many electronic devices in our house that I don't know how to use very well. I'm an engineer, fer chrissakes. I am not proficient with the remote mainly because, I don't care. I can get the DVD player to play when I need it to, I can make the VCR play, so I'm good with the electronics, and let my husband really know the details.

The problem is when, like this morning, Luke is crying, I am lacking sleep or am insufficiently awake or am trying to take care of many things, and also trying to make the playstation play the DVD so I can get ready and keep an eye on Luke (the playstation is upstairs, close to the bathroom). I know it plays DVDs, but it takes me far too long to figure it out with the screaming baby nearby.

Screaming baby = Shutdown of all mental activities.

Clinginess

I really do enjoy being a mommy. I love when I go to pick him up from daycare and he sees me a smiles a huge OH I KNOW YOU! smile. I love when he laughs and the way he like to knock down towers. In fact, that towers can stop him from being upset momentarily, because, hey, gotta knock it down.

I don't love nights like tonight, when he woke up at 2 AM (and my wonderful husband got up with him) and then again at 4:15. I tried to soothe him quickly, give him a pacifier (which he rejects more often than not, now) and his afghan. Many times this will work to get him to go back to sleep. But not tonight, and I could tell it wasn't going to work very quickly, because he escalated to full body tension screaming. Even after I picked him up, the whole body was rigid.

I took off his long sleeve outfit, and he was still upset. I changed his diaper. I made him a bottle that he rejected. Nothing worked. And the worst part is that he won't be put down, and it's even unacceptable for me to sit down. I try to soothe him with toys and back rubs, talking gently to him. But if I sit him down, the screaming starts and he reaches for me and grabs at my hair and my chest.

I laid him back in his bed in hopes he'll go back to sleep, and I'm listening to he scream now. It's awful, but I have nothing I can find to calm him, and he often falls asleep after crying a short while. I think he's lacking sleep, and we went away for the weekend so his system is a little messed up.

But I can't tell him that.