My little stalker boyfriend is just shy of three feet and stands every morning pounding with both fists on the shower door, "Mam-mam! U-up! U-up, Mam-mam!"
If I leave his sight for more than a few minutes, from down the hallway I hear, "Hey! Mam-mam! Hey!" I respond with a "hey!" And quickly too because if I wait too long he will come looking for me and demand, "U-up!"
If he hears my phone ring he comes as fast as he can demanding I hand it over so he can talk to "Ga-ga!" "Ga-ga!" It doesn't even matter if it's not his Ga-ga, he has to double check. Just to be sure. If he is disappointed to not find my mom's picture on the face of my phone, he will push buttons until he can get it to come up. It has never really occurred to me not to give him the phone. I usually hide and whisper in the other room until he comes looking for me instead. It's very mature, I know. As a co-dependent participant in this relationship, I give in to him. Almost every time.
Scrunch, on the other hand, is not as enamored with his charms. She has no problem telling him what's what. Like on the Fourth of July when he started to whimper in his uncertainty about the booming above. "Oh, Baby Bubba! It's just fine. They're just loud lights!"
The ultimate Big Sister. She explains things to him so matter of fact. And the best part is, I think he listens. She still womps on him routinely and tricks him into giving up toys she wants, but she's such a little mother to him. He will hate it when he gets older, I'm sure. But next to her, I am chopped liver. If the "Mam-mam! "Mam-mam!" gets shouted down the hall, you should hear him wail if he can't find his "Kah-kah!"
The dude is so gaga for his Kah-Kah he probably hasn't noticed I'm not
there.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Park It
A few weeks ago I shared a to-do list of things I wanted to accomplish by the beginning of the month. As I look over the list now, I go right over "Hmmm,I was feeling ambitious." and straight to "What the hell was I thinking?!!!"
All things being what they've been, what they are, and what they are likely to be for the next few months, I am going to give myself credit for prioritizing what was most important to me. The flooring in the family room is finished (minus some quarter round I'll probably paint and install the week before we sell the house ten years from now). And I made myself quite a comfy place to park it by finishing my outdoor pillows. This lends itself to my feeling much more productive than I've actually been because I have a perfect view of our garden. It's more productive than I'll ever be, and I have a nice shady spot to lounge and listen to my books on Audible while I wait for Husband to come home and rescue me. This explains my lack of blogging. I still don't like to do it from my phone.
I plan to finish the family room next week. My curtain fabric should be delivered today and then I'll go find the real camera to take pictures. I'll have to get up to do that. What did people do before their fancy phones? If it could dispense milk, snacks, and fold laundry I'd be completely replaceable. My phone wont sew the curtains for me, but I'll have help for that. The little bit of news that I was to share if I finished my list is kind of a mute point anyway because most of you already know. Aunt Miq is coming for an internship and will be staying with us until December! Yay! (This is where I would insert a joke about getting a SisterWife without having to share my Husband, but my Husband doesn't like it when I say that and my sister probably wont either when she reads it.) She'll have a full time job, but if she starts to get bored then I can keep her busy finishing up my lists. Heaven knows I'm good at starting them.
Just this week...
It's gone totally bonkers.
All things being what they've been, what they are, and what they are likely to be for the next few months, I am going to give myself credit for prioritizing what was most important to me. The flooring in the family room is finished (minus some quarter round I'll probably paint and install the week before we sell the house ten years from now). And I made myself quite a comfy place to park it by finishing my outdoor pillows. This lends itself to my feeling much more productive than I've actually been because I have a perfect view of our garden. It's more productive than I'll ever be, and I have a nice shady spot to lounge and listen to my books on Audible while I wait for Husband to come home and rescue me. This explains my lack of blogging. I still don't like to do it from my phone.
I plan to finish the family room next week. My curtain fabric should be delivered today and then I'll go find the real camera to take pictures. I'll have to get up to do that. What did people do before their fancy phones? If it could dispense milk, snacks, and fold laundry I'd be completely replaceable. My phone wont sew the curtains for me, but I'll have help for that. The little bit of news that I was to share if I finished my list is kind of a mute point anyway because most of you already know. Aunt Miq is coming for an internship and will be staying with us until December! Yay! (This is where I would insert a joke about getting a SisterWife without having to share my Husband, but my Husband doesn't like it when I say that and my sister probably wont either when she reads it.) She'll have a full time job, but if she starts to get bored then I can keep her busy finishing up my lists. Heaven knows I'm good at starting them.
Just this week...
It's gone totally bonkers.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
How Karma Works
I was taken off guard by how bloody rude he was. I've dealt with my share of crochety patients, but Dude! Cut your nice, young nurse some slack! I puked in the car on the way over here. Does that count for nothing? And now it's taking all I've got to keep my fake nicey-nice smile cemented in place. Really, it's your leg. Wanna be a jerk? I can't care more than you care. At one point when he practically shouted at me, "What the hell do I care? Do whatever you need to do!" I actually had to remind him, "Sir, it's your leg." I kept calm throughout the entire two hour ordeal thinking to myself, "Karma. Karma. Karma. He will get his." And then, even though I could give the injection with my eyes closed, one hand behind my back, and underwater like those daring magicians, I might have missed the first time and poked him twice. Hard. Oops.
Unfortunately for me, that is not how karma works. She likes to manage her own business and when I felt the need to speed the process along, I left myself wide open. That night I came down with the flu and I swear it was the jerkwad's fault. He started it.
My time for redemption came less than a week later. I really, really, really did not want to go see this new patient. Ex-con, drug use, alcoholism, traumatic brain injury, depression, and living in a hotel. And not the Hyatt or even the Extended Stay America. A $39.99/night hangout not far from the river and not much of an upgrade from sleeping under the overpass. During the visit he mentioned that the only reason he didn't go back to sleeping along the river was because he knew it would take less than 36 hours for his arm to become re-infected, and this time he would probably lose it. I was scared going out there, and I was a little uncomfortable while I was there. But I was calm, and I make it a habit to treat all my patients the same. Whether they are the filthy rich attorney asshole from the week before or this poor homeless shlub. It is all about karma.
I really believe the Universe keeps track of stuff like this. Be nice, and most of the time the Universe is nice back. Sometimes really, really, really nice. I thank my good karma for finding these chairs along the side of the road while I was out caring for more poor shlubs today. Thanks for letting both of them fit in the car. Thank you for giving me the pleasure of making a return call to my sister. "Neener!" "Neener!" "Neener!" She mocked my buying orange velvet chairs off the side of the road, taunting me with stories of the poor old lady who might have died sitting in one. Thanks that I had the good sense to Google before busting out the spray paint and upholstery stapler. Turns out they are legit and worth a few hundred dollars a piece. They match my rug perfectly!
Unfortunately for me, that is not how karma works. She likes to manage her own business and when I felt the need to speed the process along, I left myself wide open. That night I came down with the flu and I swear it was the jerkwad's fault. He started it.
My time for redemption came less than a week later. I really, really, really did not want to go see this new patient. Ex-con, drug use, alcoholism, traumatic brain injury, depression, and living in a hotel. And not the Hyatt or even the Extended Stay America. A $39.99/night hangout not far from the river and not much of an upgrade from sleeping under the overpass. During the visit he mentioned that the only reason he didn't go back to sleeping along the river was because he knew it would take less than 36 hours for his arm to become re-infected, and this time he would probably lose it. I was scared going out there, and I was a little uncomfortable while I was there. But I was calm, and I make it a habit to treat all my patients the same. Whether they are the filthy rich attorney asshole from the week before or this poor homeless shlub. It is all about karma.
I really believe the Universe keeps track of stuff like this. Be nice, and most of the time the Universe is nice back. Sometimes really, really, really nice. I thank my good karma for finding these chairs along the side of the road while I was out caring for more poor shlubs today. Thanks for letting both of them fit in the car. Thank you for giving me the pleasure of making a return call to my sister. "Neener!" "Neener!" "Neener!" She mocked my buying orange velvet chairs off the side of the road, taunting me with stories of the poor old lady who might have died sitting in one. Thanks that I had the good sense to Google before busting out the spray paint and upholstery stapler. Turns out they are legit and worth a few hundred dollars a piece. They match my rug perfectly!
The pic of my new beauties was taken with my phone. They are not as garish-ly orange as they look. They are beautiful. And if you don't think so, well, we don't have to be friends.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
"To complain without offering a solution is just whining. Don't do it."
This, along with how to track hand me downs and store linens, was among the nuggets of wisdom picked up at my last knit night.
So, yeah. I guess I am about to whine about contracting the flu. But seeing as there is no solution for being so sick you just want to die so your hair will stop hurting, what's my alternative? Whine, whine. whine.
What's the rest of yous excuse?
All you whiners who complained about my lack of posting without offering a solution..?. Not one of you offered to bring me a case of kimchi, massage my piggies, or referee squabbles over the right colored markers so I could either rest and recuperate or post, making you all a bunch of whiners.
The only really helpful solution came in the form of a text.
"I'm heading to the State Fair. You know you want to!!"
I did, too.
So, we did.
And for a whole afternoon I felt like a normal person. The fair has magic powers. Or the Hot Dog on a Stick 42 ounce lemonade does. Either way, it was the least puking fun I've had in what feels like a long time.
The kids think anything with a corn dog, baby animals, and their buddy Spiderman (who yesterday spent most of the day as a Pirate) is a great time. My children think they are baby goats with the way they nuzzled and cuddled the little beasties. It worked to our advantage that I recognized one of the women who raised baby goats from our other goat fest a few months ago. She gave the kids handfuls of special grain so they could feed them. What can I say? We get around. My culinary skills might leave something to be desired, but I've got mad baby goat hook ups. Scrunch even cuddled a chicken.
I might want to go to the fair every day for the next two weeks. Or six months if we can convince them to stay.
Monday, July 11, 2011
The autocorrect on my Ipad changes my name in an e-mail to Hammered. I don't know why it makes me laugh. Every time. I haven't gotten around to fixing it, but when I do I want it to auto correct to read 'Less Hammered, More Knocked Up.' It is not a very refined way to describe being 'with child' but man, it feels like an accurate description.
I am somewhere between trying to be grateful for the little blessing within and "Oh, my giddy aunt! What have we done!?" Even after everything...the years of infertility, the friends, the knowledge of loss, waiting, and wanting...I know people who would give a limb to be in my position. At one point, it would have been me. Ungrateful Wretch! Probably. Isn't that awful? I'm trying to be grateful, but I also try to be honest.
The feeling fluctuates from minute to minute as the puking pendulum swings throughout the day. It was especially awesome when Porkchop came to my side on the couch, pretended to gag and vomit, and then actually did gag himself and spew. I was Crappy Mom with a capital C right about then. Bah, what's new? I am in the running for Mother of the Year what with all the Word World we've been watching and laundry not being folded. Er... done. Even though the air conditioning is running full blast keeping things a balmy 68 degrees in my house, just knowing that it's 104 outside sucks the energy right out of me. I hope all that my kids remember about their mother from this summer is cartoons and ice cream sandwiches. That's not such a bad childhood, right?
My sister is about to pop out a little (but probably big) Dude any day now. As she prepares for labor my only advice was, "Labor is easy, compared to being pregnant!" I would labor once a month the duration of my pregnancy if I didn't have any other symptoms the rest of the time. Where do I sign?
Once, after finding out that I was a nurse and had a homebirth, someone asked me if I would ever want to be a Midwife. God love them! But I'm going to go with, "um...Hell to the no!!!!"
I cannot stand whining, moaning, pregnant women!
Me included.
I am not my best self right now. I am moody and irritable. Whiny, lazy, and lack any motivation at all. It might have little to nothing to do with being pregnant, but man it makes the best excuse.
I am somewhere between trying to be grateful for the little blessing within and "Oh, my giddy aunt! What have we done!?" Even after everything...the years of infertility, the friends, the knowledge of loss, waiting, and wanting...I know people who would give a limb to be in my position. At one point, it would have been me. Ungrateful Wretch! Probably. Isn't that awful? I'm trying to be grateful, but I also try to be honest.
The feeling fluctuates from minute to minute as the puking pendulum swings throughout the day. It was especially awesome when Porkchop came to my side on the couch, pretended to gag and vomit, and then actually did gag himself and spew. I was Crappy Mom with a capital C right about then. Bah, what's new? I am in the running for Mother of the Year what with all the Word World we've been watching and laundry not being folded. Er... done. Even though the air conditioning is running full blast keeping things a balmy 68 degrees in my house, just knowing that it's 104 outside sucks the energy right out of me. I hope all that my kids remember about their mother from this summer is cartoons and ice cream sandwiches. That's not such a bad childhood, right?
My sister is about to pop out a little (but probably big) Dude any day now. As she prepares for labor my only advice was, "Labor is easy, compared to being pregnant!" I would labor once a month the duration of my pregnancy if I didn't have any other symptoms the rest of the time. Where do I sign?
Once, after finding out that I was a nurse and had a homebirth, someone asked me if I would ever want to be a Midwife. God love them! But I'm going to go with, "um...Hell to the no!!!!"
I cannot stand whining, moaning, pregnant women!
Me included.
I am not my best self right now. I am moody and irritable. Whiny, lazy, and lack any motivation at all. It might have little to nothing to do with being pregnant, but man it makes the best excuse.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
July 7, 2011
My husband likes the posts where I describe exactly what we're doing. What the kids have said. What we did. Where, and if, we ate. Of course we ate. That is what I, and inherently my children, do best.
This must be one of the differences between guys and gals. Or at least my husband and I. I do not wish to remember it exactly as it is. I will paint a rosy, glossed over picture in my mind. You can keep your reality.
But it's not my birthday. So I will oblige.
I hauled the kids to town so you could take them to the park while I went to the dentist. Then I took them birthday shopping which included two stops, and to the grocery store. Porkchop was cranky in the grocery store making me look like the worst mother ever! based on the stares. He was just tired, I'm not mean, I swear. I'm more than a little surprised she didn't spill the beans about your gift. We practiced singing 'Happy Birthday!' in the car today. The two of you practiced together this evening while we read stories before bed. You sing a mean version of 'Happy Birthday!' to yourself.
Scrunch told me this afternoon to, "Listen Sis, I'm the BossLady!" I was on the phone recounting the event to Holly and recouping some sanity when you got home. We ate cheap pizza for dinner and I fell asleep on the couch while you and the kids played outside in the sandbox. Scrunch woke me up at your request to show me the biggest zucchini you'd think you'd ever seen. You cooked it right then and we ate the whole thing. That might not have been one of our best ideas because there will be tons more where than came from and right now I don't care if I ever see a zucchini again. Don't take it personally, I feel this way about most things I eat lately. I am not the glowing pregnant type. That is not to say that I don't have a different aura about me, it's just more along the lines of the greenish hue Grimsby takes on in the opening scenes of Little Mermaid.
There is something funky going on with my body. I've tried to deny it all week thinking maybe it was my poor posture. After sucking it in all week and going to bed with my back killing me, I let it go today and there is no denying. I look like I swallowed a rather large grapefruit. I am not yet out of my first trimester and I'm shaping up to be the size of a whale. You love me, right? What about if I become the size of the house? maimed in a GoCart accident? scarred by nail polish remover?
Porkchop can walk, don't let him kid you. He just doesn't want to. Unless it includes terrorizing his sister by abducting her pink doll stroller and it's occupant, in which case he's all over it and practically runs through the house. This is made lots easier by the new flooring in the family room. They practically have a track to race around now. I'm sorry if you're still sore from installing it. There will be more where that came from. 500 sq. feet more, if my math is on track. You love me lots, remember?
You'll be getting a vacation soon. You're very excited. Two weeks backpacking. Now who loves who?
Tomorrow, I will try my best to convince Scrunch that we should make your cake something besides pink. If it is pink, know I gave it my best shot. Why argue with the BossLady?
You are thirty-one this year. Don't you forget it.
We love you.
Happy Birthday!
This must be one of the differences between guys and gals. Or at least my husband and I. I do not wish to remember it exactly as it is. I will paint a rosy, glossed over picture in my mind. You can keep your reality.
But it's not my birthday. So I will oblige.
I hauled the kids to town so you could take them to the park while I went to the dentist. Then I took them birthday shopping which included two stops, and to the grocery store. Porkchop was cranky in the grocery store making me look like the worst mother ever! based on the stares. He was just tired, I'm not mean, I swear. I'm more than a little surprised she didn't spill the beans about your gift. We practiced singing 'Happy Birthday!' in the car today. The two of you practiced together this evening while we read stories before bed. You sing a mean version of 'Happy Birthday!' to yourself.
Scrunch told me this afternoon to, "Listen Sis, I'm the BossLady!" I was on the phone recounting the event to Holly and recouping some sanity when you got home. We ate cheap pizza for dinner and I fell asleep on the couch while you and the kids played outside in the sandbox. Scrunch woke me up at your request to show me the biggest zucchini you'd think you'd ever seen. You cooked it right then and we ate the whole thing. That might not have been one of our best ideas because there will be tons more where than came from and right now I don't care if I ever see a zucchini again. Don't take it personally, I feel this way about most things I eat lately. I am not the glowing pregnant type. That is not to say that I don't have a different aura about me, it's just more along the lines of the greenish hue Grimsby takes on in the opening scenes of Little Mermaid.
There is something funky going on with my body. I've tried to deny it all week thinking maybe it was my poor posture. After sucking it in all week and going to bed with my back killing me, I let it go today and there is no denying. I look like I swallowed a rather large grapefruit. I am not yet out of my first trimester and I'm shaping up to be the size of a whale. You love me, right? What about if I become the size of the house? maimed in a GoCart accident? scarred by nail polish remover?
Porkchop can walk, don't let him kid you. He just doesn't want to. Unless it includes terrorizing his sister by abducting her pink doll stroller and it's occupant, in which case he's all over it and practically runs through the house. This is made lots easier by the new flooring in the family room. They practically have a track to race around now. I'm sorry if you're still sore from installing it. There will be more where that came from. 500 sq. feet more, if my math is on track. You love me lots, remember?
You'll be getting a vacation soon. You're very excited. Two weeks backpacking. Now who loves who?
Tomorrow, I will try my best to convince Scrunch that we should make your cake something besides pink. If it is pink, know I gave it my best shot. Why argue with the BossLady?
You are thirty-one this year. Don't you forget it.
We love you.
Happy Birthday!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
20 Questions: Patriotic Edition
The following very loud conversation took place in a very crowded Jiffy Lube after they ran our of SillyBandz and gave her a little green plastic army man instead.
"Mom, what is it?"
"He's a soldier."
"Is he a nice guy or a mean guy?"
"He's a nice guy."
"What's this?"
"It's a gun."
"What's a gun?"
"Soldiers use them to protect us."
"Oh."
and then to her now captive audience of fellow oil changers as we walked out the door...
"WE LIKE SOLDIERS. THEY'RE REALLY NICE GUYS!"
"Mom, what is it?"
"He's a soldier."
"Is he a nice guy or a mean guy?"
"He's a nice guy."
"What's this?"
"It's a gun."
"What's a gun?"
"Soldiers use them to protect us."
"Oh."
and then to her now captive audience of fellow oil changers as we walked out the door...
"WE LIKE SOLDIERS. THEY'RE REALLY NICE GUYS!"
Land of the Free, Because of the Brave!
Happy Independence Day Weekend!
(A day, or two, late.)
Saturday, July 2, 2011
True Love
My hot anniversary date included chips, salsa, two Shirley Temples (because we were celebrating and all), and The Depot. Does my man deliver, or does my man deliver?
Oh, he loves me. He truly loves me.
This description of my perfect date makes me sound very low maintenance, doesn't it? I'm not, in case you were wondering.
Oh, he loves me. He truly loves me.
This description of my perfect date makes me sound very low maintenance, doesn't it? I'm not, in case you were wondering.
Happy Anniversary!
Friday, July 1, 2011
Kitchen Madeover
Fly Lady can come clean my kitchen if she doesn't like the way I do it. I never get dressed all the way to shoes before doing anything, and don't think I ever will. I think I must wear shoes about 25% percent of the time, and less if I can help it.
What you really need to get motivated to clean the kitchen is to be standing on a little zebra print goodness and blasting Adele.
The kitchen. is. done!!
It was done on the cha-heap!!! Using leftover Rustoleum cabinet transformations from the laundry room. Chalk board paint on the island. All the accessories were either found, made, or discovered at the Goodwill. The lighting was purchased on Amazon for $11.99 a piece on major!!! clearance. Out the door for about $250 bucks.
Done good, I'd say.
Need I remind you how far we've come? Gah!!!!... stock builder beige beige to colorful make you want to vomit circus...
What you really need to get motivated to clean the kitchen is to be standing on a little zebra print goodness and blasting Adele.
The kitchen. is. done!!
It was done on the cha-heap!!! Using leftover Rustoleum cabinet transformations from the laundry room. Chalk board paint on the island. All the accessories were either found, made, or discovered at the Goodwill. The lighting was purchased on Amazon for $11.99 a piece on major!!! clearance. Out the door for about $250 bucks.
Done good, I'd say.
Need I remind you how far we've come? Gah!!!!... stock builder beige beige to colorful make you want to vomit circus...
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