Gosh, I am the slackest poster ever. It's not for lack of wanting to post. I think about it every day. And it's not even that I don't have time. I can always make time to whip out a word or two. The problem is there really is nothing to say. Life is just puttering on with nothing funny going on, no real milestones in anyone's life here... we're just putterring. Here's the general lowdown...
Looks like I'll be at my new job (closer library) at the beginning of July full-time. In the meantime, I'll go one day next week. Two days the week after and the week after that. First on the agenda will be to figure out my schedule; second, to hire two people; and third, to figure out who is in my department. Exciting for me, yes, but still not really getting under way until next week.
We are living hockey at the moment. Game 2 is over and we emerged victorious, leading the series 2-0. Wanna know more? Read Chris' hockey blog.
Athena threw up last night all over the babysitter. She seems fine this morning, but we are debating whether or not to take her to school. I think we will. She is in good spirits and has lots of energy. Honestly, I think she may have been a little overtired yesterday. Or it may have been food related. She says her tummy feels fine.
I left my breast pump at work yesterday. This wouldn't be such a big deal, except I don't go in until noon today, and Marcus will be at daycare all morning.
Chris hates his job at the moment. I don't blame him, really. He's thirty now, and I remember this was a big turning point in my life as far as career goes. We'll see what develops.
And now, Marcus is fussing, so that's all I can post. Just wanted you to know I'm not dead... just not really doing anything worth talking about. :-)
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Friday, June 02, 2006
The Librarian Challenges You...
The following email arrived in my inbox earlier this week. The challenge is... how far can you read into this email without having some sort of physical reaction? The reaction can be as small as a little nervous tic, or as big as crossing your eyes, sniggering, or fainting. Let's see who has the strongest willpower... (This is a public document, but I've taken her name out just so people don't contact her and laugh at her. It's not her fault she works where she does.)
Subject: Nuclear Regulatory Commission Local Public Documents Room
The Government Printing Office (GPO), which administers the Federal Depository Library Program (FDLP), is aware that several libraries that house material formerly a part of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission Local Public Documents Rooms (LPDR) have been contacted recently by Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) or local power plant staff regarding this material.
The NRC closed the LPDR program in 1999 and, as a result of an agreement between GPO and the NRC, this material became part of the FDLP. An announcement appeared in Administrative Notes, March 15, 2000 (available at http://www.access.gpo.gov/su_docs/fdlp/pubs/adnotes/ad031500.html#1). A number of former LPDR libraries that are not participants in the FDLP, including your library, elected to retain their NRC collections.
If the NRC has contacted your library regarding this material, please inform GPO by completing the form available at http://gpo.custhelp.com/cgi-bin/gpo.cfg/php/enduser/ask.php?p_cat_lvl1=3&p_cat_lvl2=125.
GPO is contacting NRC headquarters to determine the reasons for the recent inquiries about this material and anticipated actions, if any. I will share any information that GPO finds out from the NRC with both FDLP and non-FDLP libraries currently holding these materials.
GPO asked all FDLP libraries contacted by the NRC to cooperate with any information requests, and I encourage you to do the same. Although there has been no formal request from the NRC to withdraw any material, I would like to remind you that, as a result of the 1999 transfer, much of this material is now covered by the regulations of the FDLP and can only be withdrawn by the NRC under the guidelines set forth in GPO's policy on the Withdrawal of Federal Information Products from GPO's Information Dissemination (ID) Programs. This policy is available at http://www.access.gpo.gov/su_docs/fdlp/pubs/policies/id72_06-21-05.pdf. Any request to withdraw materials in this collection would be communicated to you by GPO.
I would also like to take this opportunity to remind you to contact your nearest regional Federal depository library if, at some future time, your library is no longer able to support public access to this collection, so arrangements can be made to transfer the material to an FDLP library. A list of the regional Federal depository libraries is available at http://www.access.gpo.gov/su_docs/fdlp/pubs/regionals2004.pdf.
Please contact me if you have any questions about this matter. I will be back in touch with you with any new information GPO gathers about these inquiries.
Jxxx Rxxxxxx
Managing Director, Information Dissemination (Superintendent of Documents)
U.S. Government Printing Office
Phone: xxx
Fax: xxx
Subject: Nuclear Regulatory Commission Local Public Documents Room
The Government Printing Office (GPO), which administers the Federal Depository Library Program (FDLP), is aware that several libraries that house material formerly a part of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission Local Public Documents Rooms (LPDR) have been contacted recently by Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) or local power plant staff regarding this material.
The NRC closed the LPDR program in 1999 and, as a result of an agreement between GPO and the NRC, this material became part of the FDLP. An announcement appeared in Administrative Notes, March 15, 2000 (available at http://www.access.gpo.gov/su_docs/fdlp/pubs/adnotes/ad031500.html#1). A number of former LPDR libraries that are not participants in the FDLP, including your library, elected to retain their NRC collections.
If the NRC has contacted your library regarding this material, please inform GPO by completing the form available at http://gpo.custhelp.com/cgi-bin/gpo.cfg/php/enduser/ask.php?p_cat_lvl1=3&p_cat_lvl2=125.
GPO is contacting NRC headquarters to determine the reasons for the recent inquiries about this material and anticipated actions, if any. I will share any information that GPO finds out from the NRC with both FDLP and non-FDLP libraries currently holding these materials.
GPO asked all FDLP libraries contacted by the NRC to cooperate with any information requests, and I encourage you to do the same. Although there has been no formal request from the NRC to withdraw any material, I would like to remind you that, as a result of the 1999 transfer, much of this material is now covered by the regulations of the FDLP and can only be withdrawn by the NRC under the guidelines set forth in GPO's policy on the Withdrawal of Federal Information Products from GPO's Information Dissemination (ID) Programs. This policy is available at http://www.access.gpo.gov/su_docs/fdlp/pubs/policies/id72_06-21-05.pdf. Any request to withdraw materials in this collection would be communicated to you by GPO.
I would also like to take this opportunity to remind you to contact your nearest regional Federal depository library if, at some future time, your library is no longer able to support public access to this collection, so arrangements can be made to transfer the material to an FDLP library. A list of the regional Federal depository libraries is available at http://www.access.gpo.gov/su_docs/fdlp/pubs/regionals2004.pdf.
Please contact me if you have any questions about this matter. I will be back in touch with you with any new information GPO gathers about these inquiries.
Jxxx Rxxxxxx
Managing Director, Information Dissemination (Superintendent of Documents)
U.S. Government Printing Office
Phone: xxx
Fax: xxx
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Uh... You Gonna Finish That?
For all the slamming I've done regarding breastfeeding, I have to admit it does have its benefits. Sure... there's the "healthy for the baby" stuff you have all heard about... but I'm talking about benefits to me. After all... even after two children... it is... All. About. Me.
Anyway, breastfeeding helps your uterus return to it's teeny tiny size by releasing one of those hormones... um... well, look... if you want a medical blog, go elsewhere. I can't be bothered with looking that up. It also helps you return to your prepregnancy weight... or in my case... less than your prepregnancy weight. Yes, folks. I may be one of the only people you know who loses weight when she has babies.
After Athena was born, the pounds just dropped off. I was told to eat more than normal as breastfeeding burns an extra 500 calories a day. However, Athena was an eater, so I think she was taking in even more than that.
Unfortunately, when you stop breastfeeding, you stop burning those calories. And therein lies the rub, my friends. I can easily eat twice what I normally eat at meals right now. I am hungry all the time. It's worse than when I was pregnant. I literally could eat all day long. So when Athena weaned herself (it happened quite naturally and a bit unexpectedly for me), my stomach thought it had been in training for the Nathan's International Hot Dog Eating Contest. So it may have been easy to wean the little girl, but giving up the supersized meals was another story.
This time, I vowed to keep it under control. I vowed that I would maintain a healthy lifestyle and not eat like a pig. Survey says... I'm a loser.
I just had lunch. I ate four times as much as either Chris or Athena. FOUR TIMES! And then I had chocolate. (Curse Hershey's for coming out with dark chocolate miniatures... I'll never be the same.) And I'm still a little hungry. *sigh*
Anyway, breastfeeding helps your uterus return to it's teeny tiny size by releasing one of those hormones... um... well, look... if you want a medical blog, go elsewhere. I can't be bothered with looking that up. It also helps you return to your prepregnancy weight... or in my case... less than your prepregnancy weight. Yes, folks. I may be one of the only people you know who loses weight when she has babies.
After Athena was born, the pounds just dropped off. I was told to eat more than normal as breastfeeding burns an extra 500 calories a day. However, Athena was an eater, so I think she was taking in even more than that.
Unfortunately, when you stop breastfeeding, you stop burning those calories. And therein lies the rub, my friends. I can easily eat twice what I normally eat at meals right now. I am hungry all the time. It's worse than when I was pregnant. I literally could eat all day long. So when Athena weaned herself (it happened quite naturally and a bit unexpectedly for me), my stomach thought it had been in training for the Nathan's International Hot Dog Eating Contest. So it may have been easy to wean the little girl, but giving up the supersized meals was another story.
This time, I vowed to keep it under control. I vowed that I would maintain a healthy lifestyle and not eat like a pig. Survey says... I'm a loser.
I just had lunch. I ate four times as much as either Chris or Athena. FOUR TIMES! And then I had chocolate. (Curse Hershey's for coming out with dark chocolate miniatures... I'll never be the same.) And I'm still a little hungry. *sigh*
Countdown to the Magic
Due to the birth of my second child, we are taking the longest hiatus between pilgrimages to DisneyWorld. (For me, it's a pilgrimage... for Chris, it's a fate he accepted when he said "I Do.") Our last trip was in November, and we were really only in Orlando for a day. The rest of the time we were on the Disney Magic.
So our next trip is scheduled for April 28, 2007. That means it's almost 18 months between trips. I may get the shakes. I've already suggested maybe going for a four-day weekend in October. How totally sad is that? Pixie dust is worse than crack, I tell you.
Anyway, I mention it this far in advance not because I want you to understand how addicted to DisneyWorld I am (and oh, I am addicted), but because, as always, there is an open invitation to anyone I know and even vaguely like to join us. (What good is addiction if you don't try to force it on others, right?) We are going with another family we like to travel with (one of whom considers it a pilgrimage and one of whom considers it a duty of marriage as well). However, Disney is a big place, and last time I checked, anyone can go as long as you fork over the moolah... so if you were thinking of making a trip to the Happiest Place on Earth next year, consider getting there on or around April 28. :-)
So our next trip is scheduled for April 28, 2007. That means it's almost 18 months between trips. I may get the shakes. I've already suggested maybe going for a four-day weekend in October. How totally sad is that? Pixie dust is worse than crack, I tell you.
Anyway, I mention it this far in advance not because I want you to understand how addicted to DisneyWorld I am (and oh, I am addicted), but because, as always, there is an open invitation to anyone I know and even vaguely like to join us. (What good is addiction if you don't try to force it on others, right?) We are going with another family we like to travel with (one of whom considers it a pilgrimage and one of whom considers it a duty of marriage as well). However, Disney is a big place, and last time I checked, anyone can go as long as you fork over the moolah... so if you were thinking of making a trip to the Happiest Place on Earth next year, consider getting there on or around April 28. :-)
Saturday, May 27, 2006
You Like Me! You Really Like Me!
At long last, I have been able to achieve something I was beginning to believe was only possible in fairy tales. I got the job at the library down the street. And thank God I did, because had I not, I was probably going to have to change this blog to "The Mommy."
I got the news on Tuesday afternoon. I don't know when I'll offiicially get to start, but it's looking like maybe part-time in mid-June... going full-time at the new location by early July. It's just a lateral move, but the money I will save in gas and food, not to mention the hour to 90 minutes I just got back in my life (formerly spent in traffic on the way to work and home again) will make this seem like a jump up the ladder.
The department I'll be managing is brand new. In fact, it hasn't even been created yet. So I'll get to build something from the bottom up. This is VERY cool. I love to start from nothing and create a whole program. So I'm looking forward to some exciting weeks ahead. I also get to add Young Adult fiction into my area (my old department managed adult fiction only), and I LOVE "YA" stuff.
I will miss my old library. Well, actually, I'll miss the people I work with. Fortunately, I should see them frequently at system committee meetings and activities. It's not like I'm leaving the system. As much as I wanted this job, it's still bittersweet... leaving behind some really wonderful people.
Of course, we've had some teenage hoodlums trying to take over the library lately... so I won't miss THEM.
The new location is very busy (currently, the busiest library in North Carolina, actually), so I doubt I'll have much time to get bored. Considering I don't have time to get bored NOW, and I'm in one of the less busy libraries... I'm hoping I don't get overwhelmed.
So there you have it. Contrary to the experience of the last eight months, I CAN still land a job when I set my mind to it. Whew.
I got the news on Tuesday afternoon. I don't know when I'll offiicially get to start, but it's looking like maybe part-time in mid-June... going full-time at the new location by early July. It's just a lateral move, but the money I will save in gas and food, not to mention the hour to 90 minutes I just got back in my life (formerly spent in traffic on the way to work and home again) will make this seem like a jump up the ladder.
The department I'll be managing is brand new. In fact, it hasn't even been created yet. So I'll get to build something from the bottom up. This is VERY cool. I love to start from nothing and create a whole program. So I'm looking forward to some exciting weeks ahead. I also get to add Young Adult fiction into my area (my old department managed adult fiction only), and I LOVE "YA" stuff.
I will miss my old library. Well, actually, I'll miss the people I work with. Fortunately, I should see them frequently at system committee meetings and activities. It's not like I'm leaving the system. As much as I wanted this job, it's still bittersweet... leaving behind some really wonderful people.
Of course, we've had some teenage hoodlums trying to take over the library lately... so I won't miss THEM.
The new location is very busy (currently, the busiest library in North Carolina, actually), so I doubt I'll have much time to get bored. Considering I don't have time to get bored NOW, and I'm in one of the less busy libraries... I'm hoping I don't get overwhelmed.
So there you have it. Contrary to the experience of the last eight months, I CAN still land a job when I set my mind to it. Whew.
A Few More Steps and We'll Be Safe in the Fire Swamp
The Princess Bride was on television a few days ago, so we were watching it with Athena. I always thought of it as a great family flick. Isn't it odd how you don't notice how downright scary something is until you watch it with kids?
The R.O.U.S. (Rodents Of Unusual Size for the one person out there who hasn't memorized the film) appeared, and I thought Athena's eyeballs were going to pop out of her head. And it was just before bedtime too. We are such great parents. *sigh*
The R.O.U.S. (Rodents Of Unusual Size for the one person out there who hasn't memorized the film) appeared, and I thought Athena's eyeballs were going to pop out of her head. And it was just before bedtime too. We are such great parents. *sigh*
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Library Dress Code
I do not like to make snide comments about library patrons and any irritating qualities they may have. It is unprofessional, and after all, they are my bread and butter. And goodness knows I do stupid things every now and then... so I'm not about to start a blog that natters on about the low IQ of the general public in an attempt to make myself look smarter. Truth is... I'm not that smart. But don't tell anyone. (If you want such a blog, try this one. I was reading it when I went into labor. I actually thought the initials labor pains were from laughing so hard.)
However, sometimes people do things that are just plain irritating, and sometimes it happens to be in a library. I am confident that the bad parents I previously ranted about are bad parents OUTSIDE of the library as well. I can only speak for what I observe IN the library, as that is where I am all the time.
Today, my topic is not parenting (for a change) but fashion.
I am the antithesis of a fashionista. Many times I have tried to make a vow to improve my fashion sense. It never works. And the reason is very simple. I have no taste for fashion. I don't understand what it is and I don't understand how to put it together. To me, clothes are comfortable... not necessarily attractive.
That said, I do have advisors (my sister and husband among them) so that I don't walk out of the house looking like any of these REAL people I have seen at the library:
However, sometimes people do things that are just plain irritating, and sometimes it happens to be in a library. I am confident that the bad parents I previously ranted about are bad parents OUTSIDE of the library as well. I can only speak for what I observe IN the library, as that is where I am all the time.
Today, my topic is not parenting (for a change) but fashion.
I am the antithesis of a fashionista. Many times I have tried to make a vow to improve my fashion sense. It never works. And the reason is very simple. I have no taste for fashion. I don't understand what it is and I don't understand how to put it together. To me, clothes are comfortable... not necessarily attractive.
That said, I do have advisors (my sister and husband among them) so that I don't walk out of the house looking like any of these REAL people I have seen at the library:
- No Shirt Guy - Dude... put some clothes on. You may be a skinny, nineteen-year-old in your sexual prime, but the library is air conditioned and you can certainly find a wife-beater shirt at the very least to throw on for a few minutes while you troll myspace.
- Almost No Skirt Chick - Honey, there are young boys in this library, and we prefer that they get their anatomy lesson from books rather than real-life examples. Mothers are complaining because not only is your thong clearly visible above your waist, but your cheeks are hanging out the back, and your privates can no longer be considered private.
- Jailin' Thug - PULL UP YOUR PANTS! If nothing else, aren't you completely uncomfortable? Let me give you a clue... if we want to know whether you wear boxers or briefs, we want to find out on our own. Keep up a little air of mystery.
- Sleepy Chick - You are a beautiful young woman. What on EARTH would possess you to wear your pajamas with Stewie slippers into the library. At your age, you are supposed to be completely neurotic about your looks and what boys think. I suppose I should praise you for your lack of regard for others' opinions, but STEWIE slippers?! Egad.
end fashion rant.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Television - Sedatives for Men
Chris posted The Guys' Rules yesterday, and I thought I would expand on the television-related ones.
Sunday, I asked Chris if he would help me make cookies while Athena was napping. Athena, unfortunately, wouldn't nap... so Chris couldn't really help. Fortunately, Marcus was only mildly fussy, but the television was on... and his bouncy seat was awfully close to the sub-woofer. So I turned it off. There was nothing on anyway, and the damn thing had been on all day.
Chris came down like two seconds after I turned it off, and you won't believe this, but he turned it back on and proceded to flip through all the channels I had JUST flipped through. He, however, found something to watch... BlackHawk Down.
Now, it's bad enough that he can't participate in the cookie-making as he has to make regular trips upstairs to corral the tot. But then he selects a war movie. I don't like war movies, personally, and I don't think they are appropriate for the children. Within a minute, Chris had to go back upstairs to tend to Athena, and I turned the TV back off. One never knows if Chris will return from upstairs... the computer may lure him into her evil web and he could be up there for an hour. I wasn't about to watch people get shot up while trying to enjoy my cookie dough and appease a cranky 2-month-old.
He returned rather quickly (Ms. Computer was apparently not so intriguing) and immediately asked, "Why is this off?" while gesturing at the TV.
Not only is this an absurd question... after all... televisions aren't known to turn themselves off... but wtf? Can we not exist in a room without television for two minutes?
Sunday, I asked Chris if he would help me make cookies while Athena was napping. Athena, unfortunately, wouldn't nap... so Chris couldn't really help. Fortunately, Marcus was only mildly fussy, but the television was on... and his bouncy seat was awfully close to the sub-woofer. So I turned it off. There was nothing on anyway, and the damn thing had been on all day.
Chris came down like two seconds after I turned it off, and you won't believe this, but he turned it back on and proceded to flip through all the channels I had JUST flipped through. He, however, found something to watch... BlackHawk Down.
Now, it's bad enough that he can't participate in the cookie-making as he has to make regular trips upstairs to corral the tot. But then he selects a war movie. I don't like war movies, personally, and I don't think they are appropriate for the children. Within a minute, Chris had to go back upstairs to tend to Athena, and I turned the TV back off. One never knows if Chris will return from upstairs... the computer may lure him into her evil web and he could be up there for an hour. I wasn't about to watch people get shot up while trying to enjoy my cookie dough and appease a cranky 2-month-old.
He returned rather quickly (Ms. Computer was apparently not so intriguing) and immediately asked, "Why is this off?" while gesturing at the TV.
Not only is this an absurd question... after all... televisions aren't known to turn themselves off... but wtf? Can we not exist in a room without television for two minutes?
Friday, May 19, 2006
Cop Magnet
Some people are chick magnets. Some people are money magnets. (Or is that Magnate... whatever). And then there are people like Jason and Brian D. who are magnets for any kind of chaos or bad stuff that is out there... the more implausible, the better. Jason is the sort of guy who can have a three-of-a-kind, and invariably there is someone at the table with a full house... or even a royal flush. If it's going to happen in the game, it will be when Jason has three aces. But I digress...
I, dear friends, am a cop magnet. My friend Jack was once laughing at me (okay, he laughs at me all the time... but I'm referring to one time in particular) because I am such a law-abiding citizen. I don't speed, and I refuse to have anything in the house that was pirated (music, movies, etc.). Chris sneaks stuff by me, but if I find it, I destroy it. Basically, no matter how inane the law is, I will follow it.
I'd like to say that the reason for this is because I am a really good person and citizen of this here planet. However, the truth is, I follow the law because if I don't, I will get caught. Ever since I was a tyke, I can't seem to get away with anything. I've been stopped four times for speeding, and I have four speeding tickets to show for it. I have NEVER been "let go." The closest I've come to getting a warning is when a cop pulled me over at midnight on an empty highway when I was by myself because he THOUGHT I was speeding (I wasn't) and then he noticed my license plate wasn't in his computer (NCDMV are never in a hurry to do their paperwork). When he told me why he pulled me, I asked him if he knew I was a woman by myself when he turned on his lights. He said, "Yes." This was at the height of "blue-light bandits" in NC... there had been a rash of attacks. Ass.
Anyway, in addition to my tickets, my very first two-car accident involved me backing into a police car at a very low speed in a parking lot. Mind you, the officer was at fault, and did all but admit that it was his fault. I was sixteen and it was dark. My reverse lights were working and were on. I was driving a '79 Cadillac de Ville. There was a truck on one side of me and a van on the other. I couldn't see very well around them, so I was going VERY slowly. There is no way said cop couldn't have seen me. The butt of that car was roughly the size of Rhode Island. Yet he continued to move forward in the parking lot, causing me to bump his front fender. Imagine being sixteen and licensed to drive for about a month, and seeing that you have just hit a police car. I can laugh about it now...
So today, I added to my list of cop weirdness when, much to my surprise, in the McDonald's drive-thru this morning (and believe it or not, it wasn't THAT McDonald's), a cop rear-ended ME. It was only a slight bump, and no damage was done. But really... what are the chances? *sigh*
I, dear friends, am a cop magnet. My friend Jack was once laughing at me (okay, he laughs at me all the time... but I'm referring to one time in particular) because I am such a law-abiding citizen. I don't speed, and I refuse to have anything in the house that was pirated (music, movies, etc.). Chris sneaks stuff by me, but if I find it, I destroy it. Basically, no matter how inane the law is, I will follow it.
I'd like to say that the reason for this is because I am a really good person and citizen of this here planet. However, the truth is, I follow the law because if I don't, I will get caught. Ever since I was a tyke, I can't seem to get away with anything. I've been stopped four times for speeding, and I have four speeding tickets to show for it. I have NEVER been "let go." The closest I've come to getting a warning is when a cop pulled me over at midnight on an empty highway when I was by myself because he THOUGHT I was speeding (I wasn't) and then he noticed my license plate wasn't in his computer (NCDMV are never in a hurry to do their paperwork). When he told me why he pulled me, I asked him if he knew I was a woman by myself when he turned on his lights. He said, "Yes." This was at the height of "blue-light bandits" in NC... there had been a rash of attacks. Ass.
Anyway, in addition to my tickets, my very first two-car accident involved me backing into a police car at a very low speed in a parking lot. Mind you, the officer was at fault, and did all but admit that it was his fault. I was sixteen and it was dark. My reverse lights were working and were on. I was driving a '79 Cadillac de Ville. There was a truck on one side of me and a van on the other. I couldn't see very well around them, so I was going VERY slowly. There is no way said cop couldn't have seen me. The butt of that car was roughly the size of Rhode Island. Yet he continued to move forward in the parking lot, causing me to bump his front fender. Imagine being sixteen and licensed to drive for about a month, and seeing that you have just hit a police car. I can laugh about it now...
So today, I added to my list of cop weirdness when, much to my surprise, in the McDonald's drive-thru this morning (and believe it or not, it wasn't THAT McDonald's), a cop rear-ended ME. It was only a slight bump, and no damage was done. But really... what are the chances? *sigh*
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Dream Dinners. Seriously.
Last Thursday, I tried something I have been dying to do for some time. I've been wanting to "feed the freezer," as my father used to call it. Basically, I was looking for a way to prepare several meals all at once and freeze them. Then I could thaw them and cook them on weeknights when I have less time.
To this end, I've checked out several cookbooks from the library that guide you through doing this. There are many of them out there -- many of them designed to have you cook thirty meals all on one day. That's basically eight hours of cooking. But the payoff is you have a whole month of meals at the ready.
As I read these, I was struck by several problems... the least of which was "Will I like this food?" In many cases, it didn't look all that tasty. And then, one day, I was browsing the paper and saw that one of these places was opening in my neighborhood. Dream Dinners was founded on the concept that busy women WANT to cook for their families, but just don't always have time to do it. The woman who founded it was running a catering company and had a friend into her kitchen one weekend to cook a few meals for the freezer. Soon, her friends and her friend's friends were calling her to see if THEY could come to her kitchen. It didn't take her long to realize there was a market for this.
So on Thursday at noon, I went to the new Dream Dinners store. It's about five minutes from my house. And in two hours and 15 minutes, I had 12 meals ready for the freezer. The coolest thing about this concept is you don't actually cook anything. You just put the meal together. Some meals have precooked ingredients like ground beef or chicken. All the ingredients are laid out with the appropriate measuring instruments in them. You just assemble it the way you like it. For instance, if something has red peppers and you don't like red peppers... leave 'em out.
It's affordable too, when you consider the groceries you don't need to buy (all entrees have meat, so it's not for you herbivores out there) and the time you save both at the store and at home each night. Each meal is 4-6 servings, so there is plenty for your family, or for two dinners if it's just two of you.
I loaded up my cooler, then went home and loaded up my freezer. All the food looked remarkable. I had all sorts of variety too, from a Chicago-style deep dish pizza to a macaroni casserole to chicken and bacon crepes.
The final test was tonight. I moved two meals to the freezer on Saturday to defrost for this week. We made the first one tonight -- Grilled Salmon with Garlic Dill Butter. In my case, the salmon was broiled, as our grill is kind of irritating. And it is Atlantic Salmon, which isn't my favorite. But let me tell you, our dinner was scrumptious. I should have taken a photo. It looked as good as it tasted. And it was SO easy and quick. Not that salmon is really difficult, but had I made the butter from scratch TONIGHT instead of last week, it would have taken me an extra thirty minutes to gather and assemble the ingredients. Not to mention the extra groceries I would have needed. For instance... capers. Not your everyday ingredient (although I admit I have a bottle in the cupboard.
So our next "Dream Dinner" will be on Friday, when we will have Morrocan Marinated Pork Roast. I'll let you know how it turns out!
To this end, I've checked out several cookbooks from the library that guide you through doing this. There are many of them out there -- many of them designed to have you cook thirty meals all on one day. That's basically eight hours of cooking. But the payoff is you have a whole month of meals at the ready.
As I read these, I was struck by several problems... the least of which was "Will I like this food?" In many cases, it didn't look all that tasty. And then, one day, I was browsing the paper and saw that one of these places was opening in my neighborhood. Dream Dinners was founded on the concept that busy women WANT to cook for their families, but just don't always have time to do it. The woman who founded it was running a catering company and had a friend into her kitchen one weekend to cook a few meals for the freezer. Soon, her friends and her friend's friends were calling her to see if THEY could come to her kitchen. It didn't take her long to realize there was a market for this.
So on Thursday at noon, I went to the new Dream Dinners store. It's about five minutes from my house. And in two hours and 15 minutes, I had 12 meals ready for the freezer. The coolest thing about this concept is you don't actually cook anything. You just put the meal together. Some meals have precooked ingredients like ground beef or chicken. All the ingredients are laid out with the appropriate measuring instruments in them. You just assemble it the way you like it. For instance, if something has red peppers and you don't like red peppers... leave 'em out.
It's affordable too, when you consider the groceries you don't need to buy (all entrees have meat, so it's not for you herbivores out there) and the time you save both at the store and at home each night. Each meal is 4-6 servings, so there is plenty for your family, or for two dinners if it's just two of you.
I loaded up my cooler, then went home and loaded up my freezer. All the food looked remarkable. I had all sorts of variety too, from a Chicago-style deep dish pizza to a macaroni casserole to chicken and bacon crepes.
The final test was tonight. I moved two meals to the freezer on Saturday to defrost for this week. We made the first one tonight -- Grilled Salmon with Garlic Dill Butter. In my case, the salmon was broiled, as our grill is kind of irritating. And it is Atlantic Salmon, which isn't my favorite. But let me tell you, our dinner was scrumptious. I should have taken a photo. It looked as good as it tasted. And it was SO easy and quick. Not that salmon is really difficult, but had I made the butter from scratch TONIGHT instead of last week, it would have taken me an extra thirty minutes to gather and assemble the ingredients. Not to mention the extra groceries I would have needed. For instance... capers. Not your everyday ingredient (although I admit I have a bottle in the cupboard.
So our next "Dream Dinner" will be on Friday, when we will have Morrocan Marinated Pork Roast. I'll let you know how it turns out!
Monday, May 15, 2006
I Have Returned!
Well, today was the momentous day... my first day back at work. Fortunately, I had a sort of meeting this morning, and I'm only working half-days until Friday, so my day was easy and fairly uneventful, work-wise. The day did have its moments, though. Wanna hear about 'em? No? Then quit reading now.
For those of you brave to continue onward through my post...
At 2:30 AM, Marcus awoke for his one and only feeding over the night. This is really good! I was pleased! He only munched on one boob, though, and this means that I had extra that needed to go somewhere. So instead of returning to bed immediately upon plopping el kiddo back in his swing, I had to hang around awake upstairs to be sure he was really asleep, then creep downstairs to pump. That takes about 10-15 minutes, but the set-up and clean-up add another 10-15... so I was back in bed around 3:30. While I was cleaning up, I heard much squeaking coming from our pantry. "Aha!" I exclaimed! "We have trapped that devilish mouse! Hooray!"
A little later, the three of us... Chris, Marcus, and myself... all managed to sleep through the 5:30 alarm Chris had so carefully set the night before. We're not sure how we ALL missed the alarm, but we are guessing that the volume was too low for us to hear. So, I woke up at 6:30. This was the time I used to rise when I only had one child, and she is pretty self-sufficient now. Basically, I had to do nothing for her in the mornings, as Chris did most of what she needed. In fact, often she was asleep until after I left. Marcus, on the other hand, requires feeding (something that does not allow me to multitask), bottle preparation for his day ahead, not to mention changing, dressing, etc. So I really needed the extra hour. And the proof of that is in the pudding. I was an hour late to work this morning. Again, fortunately, I only had a meeting, and I don't believe it was scheduled to start until 9, so all was well. I just stayed later than I expected to.
While I was showering, I sent Chris downstairs to tend to the little mouse who has been eating our Doritos and pooping on my cookbooks. Unfortunately, I came downstairs before Chris had finished his work. I had expected that the mouse would be part of our catch-and-release program. Instead, he met a very bloody end at my husband's hands. Although I do not blame him for terminating the rodent's life, I was caught by surprise. I did not see the actual end, but I heard it, and let me tell you, it broke my heart. So that was my first cry of the morning. Over a freaking mouse. One that had ruined a good deal of my food, mind you. Now we have to clean out the pantry AGAIN. Who knew there were two mice?! Damn cat.
I went to prepare Marcus' bottles, and the damn breastmilk was still frozen. I made bottles for Athena for three months with breastmilk two years ago, and they had ALWAYS thawed overnight. These were still frozen solid. So I had to thaw them on the stovetop, and naturally, they actually got warmed a little. This is not good for breastmilk. Hopefully, I haven't given my son food poisoning.
To further complicate my morning routine, I had to take the kids to daycare. It was my own fault, as poor planning on my part meant that Chris had to stay home to wait for some service people and let them into the house. And I don't really mind taking them to daycare. Athena sings songs for me, and Marcus... well, apparently he wails most of the way there.
Anyway, we get there, and you would not believe how complicated it can be to drop off two kids in two separate rooms. Each child has a bit of paperwork you have to complete each morning. And you can't wear shoes in the infant room. So I tossed Marcus and his carseat into the infant room and shouted to Ms. Penny that I would be right back to check him in officially. My plan was to then whisk Athena two doors down to her classroom and quickly fill out her stuff, then run back to the infant room to unload bottles and talk to the teachers about Marcus' feeding schedule. But Athena, as one might guess, had other plans.
"MAAAAAAAAAAAAAARCUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" she wailed. Apparently, the two have become rather close, and she just couldn't bear to leave him. She cried. She pled. She pressed her face up against the window to his classroom. It broke my heart. I cried. Again. After the teachers promised Athena she could come back later in the morning to visit, Athena grudgingly took my hand and allowed herself to be led to her classroom.
But once we were there, I was not permitted to leave. She asked nicely to be picked up, so I did, but then she clamped her legs around my waist so hard that had I let go of her, she would have just sat there, attached to my waist, sitting on my hip. Finally, a teacher was able to lure her away with promises of animal pictures.
I finally left daycare after a few more minutes with Marcus, and headed to work. I needed to stop at McDonald's to get something to eat, despite the fact that I was already late. Unforunately, the only place even close to on the way is THE McDonald's. You remember? The one in Cary? So naturally, it took 15 minutes to get through the drive thru.
Work was probably the easiest part of my day. The only bummer was that I found out the last interview for that job at the local library was at 3pm today. So I will probably have to wait until tomorrow (or later) to find out if I have been selected. Many people said they were pulling for me. Unfortunately, none of them actually interviewed me.
I got home and began chores. Laundry and organizing the clutter in the kitchen and dining room in the hopes of ridding ourselves of it. Now I have to start dinner. If nothing else, going back to work really picks up the pace of my life. I'm going to be exhausted tonight. Wait, I already am.
For those of you brave to continue onward through my post...
At 2:30 AM, Marcus awoke for his one and only feeding over the night. This is really good! I was pleased! He only munched on one boob, though, and this means that I had extra that needed to go somewhere. So instead of returning to bed immediately upon plopping el kiddo back in his swing, I had to hang around awake upstairs to be sure he was really asleep, then creep downstairs to pump. That takes about 10-15 minutes, but the set-up and clean-up add another 10-15... so I was back in bed around 3:30. While I was cleaning up, I heard much squeaking coming from our pantry. "Aha!" I exclaimed! "We have trapped that devilish mouse! Hooray!"
A little later, the three of us... Chris, Marcus, and myself... all managed to sleep through the 5:30 alarm Chris had so carefully set the night before. We're not sure how we ALL missed the alarm, but we are guessing that the volume was too low for us to hear. So, I woke up at 6:30. This was the time I used to rise when I only had one child, and she is pretty self-sufficient now. Basically, I had to do nothing for her in the mornings, as Chris did most of what she needed. In fact, often she was asleep until after I left. Marcus, on the other hand, requires feeding (something that does not allow me to multitask), bottle preparation for his day ahead, not to mention changing, dressing, etc. So I really needed the extra hour. And the proof of that is in the pudding. I was an hour late to work this morning. Again, fortunately, I only had a meeting, and I don't believe it was scheduled to start until 9, so all was well. I just stayed later than I expected to.
While I was showering, I sent Chris downstairs to tend to the little mouse who has been eating our Doritos and pooping on my cookbooks. Unfortunately, I came downstairs before Chris had finished his work. I had expected that the mouse would be part of our catch-and-release program. Instead, he met a very bloody end at my husband's hands. Although I do not blame him for terminating the rodent's life, I was caught by surprise. I did not see the actual end, but I heard it, and let me tell you, it broke my heart. So that was my first cry of the morning. Over a freaking mouse. One that had ruined a good deal of my food, mind you. Now we have to clean out the pantry AGAIN. Who knew there were two mice?! Damn cat.
I went to prepare Marcus' bottles, and the damn breastmilk was still frozen. I made bottles for Athena for three months with breastmilk two years ago, and they had ALWAYS thawed overnight. These were still frozen solid. So I had to thaw them on the stovetop, and naturally, they actually got warmed a little. This is not good for breastmilk. Hopefully, I haven't given my son food poisoning.
To further complicate my morning routine, I had to take the kids to daycare. It was my own fault, as poor planning on my part meant that Chris had to stay home to wait for some service people and let them into the house. And I don't really mind taking them to daycare. Athena sings songs for me, and Marcus... well, apparently he wails most of the way there.
Anyway, we get there, and you would not believe how complicated it can be to drop off two kids in two separate rooms. Each child has a bit of paperwork you have to complete each morning. And you can't wear shoes in the infant room. So I tossed Marcus and his carseat into the infant room and shouted to Ms. Penny that I would be right back to check him in officially. My plan was to then whisk Athena two doors down to her classroom and quickly fill out her stuff, then run back to the infant room to unload bottles and talk to the teachers about Marcus' feeding schedule. But Athena, as one might guess, had other plans.
"MAAAAAAAAAAAAAARCUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" she wailed. Apparently, the two have become rather close, and she just couldn't bear to leave him. She cried. She pled. She pressed her face up against the window to his classroom. It broke my heart. I cried. Again. After the teachers promised Athena she could come back later in the morning to visit, Athena grudgingly took my hand and allowed herself to be led to her classroom.
But once we were there, I was not permitted to leave. She asked nicely to be picked up, so I did, but then she clamped her legs around my waist so hard that had I let go of her, she would have just sat there, attached to my waist, sitting on my hip. Finally, a teacher was able to lure her away with promises of animal pictures.
I finally left daycare after a few more minutes with Marcus, and headed to work. I needed to stop at McDonald's to get something to eat, despite the fact that I was already late. Unforunately, the only place even close to on the way is THE McDonald's. You remember? The one in Cary? So naturally, it took 15 minutes to get through the drive thru.
Work was probably the easiest part of my day. The only bummer was that I found out the last interview for that job at the local library was at 3pm today. So I will probably have to wait until tomorrow (or later) to find out if I have been selected. Many people said they were pulling for me. Unfortunately, none of them actually interviewed me.
I got home and began chores. Laundry and organizing the clutter in the kitchen and dining room in the hopes of ridding ourselves of it. Now I have to start dinner. If nothing else, going back to work really picks up the pace of my life. I'm going to be exhausted tonight. Wait, I already am.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
The Final Countdown
(Has my title put that awful song in your head?! It's driving me crazy!!)
This is my last week of maternity leave, and I have never felt less ready to get back to work. My interview was, in my opinion, completely awful. I can't think straight and I can't get my head back into work. The job I interviewed for is so close to my house and would be an ideal position for me. However, my previous luck with interviews this past twelve months has me reeling still, and my confidence is in the toilet. I feel like I came across as scatterbrained, weak, and incompetent. Of course, I've believed I've tanked interviews before and I end up getting the job, so we'll see.
On Monday, I start back, but only part time. I'm working half-days Monday through Thursday, then a whole day on Friday. The following week I'm back up to full time. I'm hoping that will make the transition easier. Also, I took Marcus into daycare yesterday and I'm doing so again tomorrow... just in the afternoon. I couldn't believe how much it bothered me to drop him off. I was nervous the first day I left Athena. She was only six weeks old and so helpless. But this guy is much more independent (not that he's doing anything on his own... he's just more communicative and easy-going), and two weeks older than Athena was, and yet I still feel like my heart is being ripped from my chest when I leave him. I never had that strong a feeling when I left Athena. It's odd.
Still looking for a business partner to buy/run a franchise with me. Any interest out there? Send me an email. This would, of course, require that you live in the area. :-)
This is my last week of maternity leave, and I have never felt less ready to get back to work. My interview was, in my opinion, completely awful. I can't think straight and I can't get my head back into work. The job I interviewed for is so close to my house and would be an ideal position for me. However, my previous luck with interviews this past twelve months has me reeling still, and my confidence is in the toilet. I feel like I came across as scatterbrained, weak, and incompetent. Of course, I've believed I've tanked interviews before and I end up getting the job, so we'll see.
On Monday, I start back, but only part time. I'm working half-days Monday through Thursday, then a whole day on Friday. The following week I'm back up to full time. I'm hoping that will make the transition easier. Also, I took Marcus into daycare yesterday and I'm doing so again tomorrow... just in the afternoon. I couldn't believe how much it bothered me to drop him off. I was nervous the first day I left Athena. She was only six weeks old and so helpless. But this guy is much more independent (not that he's doing anything on his own... he's just more communicative and easy-going), and two weeks older than Athena was, and yet I still feel like my heart is being ripped from my chest when I leave him. I never had that strong a feeling when I left Athena. It's odd.
Still looking for a business partner to buy/run a franchise with me. Any interest out there? Send me an email. This would, of course, require that you live in the area. :-)
Friday, May 05, 2006
One Little Monkey Jumping on the Bed
Athena is sleeping in her big girl bed tonight. I am beside myself with excitement. We had no solid plan for how to move her into her new bedroom with her new big HUGE bed, but we've been asking her from time to time if she wants to sleep in her big girl bed that night. She always said, "No." But tonight, she said "Yeah!"
We moved her CD player (with its lullaby CD -- a birthday gift from Aunt Lisa) and her favorite blanket into the room. At first, she jumped under the covers, put her head on her pillow, and started twirling her hair (her own sign language for, "Damn, I'm sleepy!" But when Chris first closed the door on her, she started wailing.
He went back in and tried to reassure her, but exit number two brought on the same tears. Upon exit number three, Chris made it to our bedroom door, but soon our little "big girl" was opening the door to come out. I went in and laid down on the bed with her, very aware that I COULD not offer to sleep with her that first night or else I would never get to sleep in my own bed again.
When she wouldn't settle down, I asked her if she would rather be in her crib. "NO! NO CRIB!" was the adamant reply. But then she ran out of the room. I caught her after cornering her in OUR room and carried her to her crib. I figured she would just collapse from exhaustion and from comfort in being back in "her own bed" (soon to be Marcus' own bed). Instead, she screamed like a Banshee. She did NOT want to be in her crib... apparently EVER again.
We returned to her new room and I explained that if she wanted to sleep in her bed, she had to stay in her room. I told her that if she came out of the room again before morning, she would have to go back into the crib. And guess what! It worked! She's been in bed for an hour and a half now. Granted, the night's not over, but I am shamelessly optimistic.
We moved her CD player (with its lullaby CD -- a birthday gift from Aunt Lisa) and her favorite blanket into the room. At first, she jumped under the covers, put her head on her pillow, and started twirling her hair (her own sign language for, "Damn, I'm sleepy!" But when Chris first closed the door on her, she started wailing.
He went back in and tried to reassure her, but exit number two brought on the same tears. Upon exit number three, Chris made it to our bedroom door, but soon our little "big girl" was opening the door to come out. I went in and laid down on the bed with her, very aware that I COULD not offer to sleep with her that first night or else I would never get to sleep in my own bed again.
When she wouldn't settle down, I asked her if she would rather be in her crib. "NO! NO CRIB!" was the adamant reply. But then she ran out of the room. I caught her after cornering her in OUR room and carried her to her crib. I figured she would just collapse from exhaustion and from comfort in being back in "her own bed" (soon to be Marcus' own bed). Instead, she screamed like a Banshee. She did NOT want to be in her crib... apparently EVER again.
We returned to her new room and I explained that if she wanted to sleep in her bed, she had to stay in her room. I told her that if she came out of the room again before morning, she would have to go back into the crib. And guess what! It worked! She's been in bed for an hour and a half now. Granted, the night's not over, but I am shamelessly optimistic.
Funky Town
Chris worked from home today, and he got a wild hair to pick Athena up early and take her out for some fun. His original idea was to play Putt-Putt, but it was raining lightly, so we went to Bullwinkles instead. (Not familiar with it? Think of Chuck E. Cheese, but with Rocky and Bullwinkle instead.)
Food was decent, show didn't happen because we were too early, and Athena was only really interested in the Skee-Ball, but we had a good time. Then we went to downtown Apex (don't laugh... it's a whole three blocks, but it's nifty) and had ice cream. Athena had a cone and when her ice cream was gone (some was spilled to the floor), she held up her cone to get a refill. When I told her it didn't work that way, she started following the ice cream scooper lady around the store holding it up for her to refill. I wish I'd had a video camera.
On the way home (okay, honestly, it was on the way to get ice cream, so I'm taking a little license with story sequence for the sake of flow...), we were listening to a new station I stumbled across while in Greensboro a few weeks ago. Their call numbers are WSMW 98.7. They refer to themselves as "Simon," they have no djs except in the morning, and their tag line is "We play everything." They aren't kidding. It's like listening to someone's iPod Shuffle.
To date, I have heard the following songs (in no particular order and this does not include ALL songs... just the ones that stand out.) Keep in mind that these songs are played back to back...
Kiss - Rock and Roll All Night
Cyndi Lauper - She Bop
Styx - Come Sail Away
Duran Duran - Rio, New Moon on Monday, AND Union of the Snake
Olivia and John - Summer Lovin'
George Clinton - Atomic Dog
Howard Jones - No One Is To Blame
The Rolling Stones - hmmm... can't remember which one now
AND they have played various hits from the nineties and today.
However, tonight, they played Funkytown by Lipps, Inc. As soon as it started, Chris and I started bobbing our heads to the beat like the white folk we are. I glanced in my rearview and little Athena was bobbing right along with us. The kicker is, she wasn't even looking at us. She was staring out the window... so her head bob was totally her own. Primitive instincts... so cool.
Food was decent, show didn't happen because we were too early, and Athena was only really interested in the Skee-Ball, but we had a good time. Then we went to downtown Apex (don't laugh... it's a whole three blocks, but it's nifty) and had ice cream. Athena had a cone and when her ice cream was gone (some was spilled to the floor), she held up her cone to get a refill. When I told her it didn't work that way, she started following the ice cream scooper lady around the store holding it up for her to refill. I wish I'd had a video camera.
On the way home (okay, honestly, it was on the way to get ice cream, so I'm taking a little license with story sequence for the sake of flow...), we were listening to a new station I stumbled across while in Greensboro a few weeks ago. Their call numbers are WSMW 98.7. They refer to themselves as "Simon," they have no djs except in the morning, and their tag line is "We play everything." They aren't kidding. It's like listening to someone's iPod Shuffle.
To date, I have heard the following songs (in no particular order and this does not include ALL songs... just the ones that stand out.) Keep in mind that these songs are played back to back...
Kiss - Rock and Roll All Night
Cyndi Lauper - She Bop
Styx - Come Sail Away
Duran Duran - Rio, New Moon on Monday, AND Union of the Snake
Olivia and John - Summer Lovin'
George Clinton - Atomic Dog
Howard Jones - No One Is To Blame
The Rolling Stones - hmmm... can't remember which one now
AND they have played various hits from the nineties and today.
However, tonight, they played Funkytown by Lipps, Inc. As soon as it started, Chris and I started bobbing our heads to the beat like the white folk we are. I glanced in my rearview and little Athena was bobbing right along with us. The kicker is, she wasn't even looking at us. She was staring out the window... so her head bob was totally her own. Primitive instincts... so cool.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Loved Ones: A Cathartic Stream-of-Consciousness Post
Lately, the theme of friends and family has been pushing itself into the front of my brain. Tempura73 just posted about her family being two days away in Malaysia. My husband has been learning a lot about his family (he isn't even sure how old he was when his parents divorced, so he obviously has a lot to study), and I learned that I will not be able to go to Seattle before my maternity leave is up to see my sister and two very good friends who I NEVER get to see (as they live in Washington, which is VERY far away from North Carolina for those of you who failed Jessey's Geography Test). I also had a wonderful visit with Sophie, but that only proved that Charlotte can seem as far away from me as Washington State is. And even my local friends are wrapped up in work and other personal issues (Jamie, I'm thinking of you... we need to do lunch soon), that I simply can't connect with them as much as I should.
So all these things make me think of how lucky I am to have such a wonderful family and circle of friends, and that makes me wonder why I feel sad to think about them. Is it a fear of losing someone? Is it just lonliness from being surrounded by a baby all day? Or is it the empty-brain syndrom I have from lack of sleep?
This morning, I was up at the right time so that I could get the baby fed and situated before Chris and Athena headed downstairs for breakfast. I have not eaten breakfast with them on a weekday since before Marcus was born. This morning, I was not only able to make Athena breakfast (pouring cereal counts, right?), but I was able to eat my breakfast with them AND I was able to pack a lunch for Chris. Then, when Chris got home, I made dinner for us all for the SECOND night in a row! The satisfaction I gained from doing something for Chris and Athena -- as domestic as it was -- was downright intoxicating.
I also saw several of my work friends today, as Marcus and I attended a baby shower at our administrative offices. I have great friends at work, and I was having so much fun visiting that I didn't want to leave when they all headed into a meeting after the shower.
My mother and her best friend each attended funerals this weekend - for different people. One of the people who died was 44. She had cancer. And a 13-year-old son. Cancer runs in my family. It runs in Chris' as well. In fact, Chris' father had it four times before it finally emerged victorious. Needless to say, I don't like cancer very much.
So why this blathering? I don't know. I'm just glad to have so many loved ones, and I don't want anything bad to happen to them. Y'all take care of yourselves, okay?
So all these things make me think of how lucky I am to have such a wonderful family and circle of friends, and that makes me wonder why I feel sad to think about them. Is it a fear of losing someone? Is it just lonliness from being surrounded by a baby all day? Or is it the empty-brain syndrom I have from lack of sleep?
This morning, I was up at the right time so that I could get the baby fed and situated before Chris and Athena headed downstairs for breakfast. I have not eaten breakfast with them on a weekday since before Marcus was born. This morning, I was not only able to make Athena breakfast (pouring cereal counts, right?), but I was able to eat my breakfast with them AND I was able to pack a lunch for Chris. Then, when Chris got home, I made dinner for us all for the SECOND night in a row! The satisfaction I gained from doing something for Chris and Athena -- as domestic as it was -- was downright intoxicating.
I also saw several of my work friends today, as Marcus and I attended a baby shower at our administrative offices. I have great friends at work, and I was having so much fun visiting that I didn't want to leave when they all headed into a meeting after the shower.
My mother and her best friend each attended funerals this weekend - for different people. One of the people who died was 44. She had cancer. And a 13-year-old son. Cancer runs in my family. It runs in Chris' as well. In fact, Chris' father had it four times before it finally emerged victorious. Needless to say, I don't like cancer very much.
So why this blathering? I don't know. I'm just glad to have so many loved ones, and I don't want anything bad to happen to them. Y'all take care of yourselves, okay?
Monday, May 01, 2006
Athena is Two!
The Remote Control Pound Puppy. AKA Dad's Toy.
Athena's only guest her age, Aiden, and his dad, with the bubble machine.
She loves her new trike.
The Homemade Cake (thank you, Pampered Chef!)
Baby Talk
MARCUS: So, uh, you want to go get a latte?
ELISE: Sure, although I prefer espresso, if that's okay.
MARCUS: Great! I'll drive.
ELISE: Okay, but can we wait until you can see over the wheel?
MARCUS: Okay. If you think that's important.
ELISE: Besides, this vibrating chair is pretty comfy.
MARCUS: Good point.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Do Mommies Have ESP? A Case Study
For weeks, I have been paranoid about my tires. I have no reason to suspect that I would have a tire problem. After all, they have all been replaced within the past 12 months, and I just had my car inspected less than one month ago. However, I have a small child in the car with me at all times, and sometimes I have two. This makes me worry about highway safety in general, but for some reason, I was fixated on my tires.
On Friday, I made arrangements to go see my friend Sophie and her brand new daughter, Elise. Details of the visit are on her blog, so I won't repeat them here. But I will share the story of what happened on my way home.
I was really nervous about making this trip. I was originally going to drive the three hours to Charlotte about two weeks ago, but Marcus got the sniffles after his sister coughed on him (she's such a good sharer) and Sophie felt it best that he not in turn cough on her one-week old. Even then, I was nervous that I couldn't drive there and back in one day with such a small baby in tow. I thought I would just be too tired, but I also worried that if I had car trouble driving back at night, what on Earth would I do? I just felt too vulnerable. So I was going to stay at Jason and Bernie's place (since they didn't already have a newborn in the house) and Chris and Athena were going to take the train down the next day (a Saturday) to drive back with me.
Anyway, this past Friday, after Sophie invited me to stay the night (it's amazing the difference a couple of weeks make to the mom of a newborn), I decided I could make the trip. After all, I've carted Marcus all over town and I've taken him on the one-hour-each-way trip to Greensboro TWICE, so surely he could weather three hours. And I was dying to get down to see Sophie, who has been hesitant to take her little one out and about, and drag her out of the house to go somewhere... ANYWHERE... so she could get used to running errands with a little one.
The drive down was uneventful. There was some traffic due to construction and Marcus screamed for twenty minutes before I could get to the next town and find a safe parking lot to pull into in order to feed him. But overall, I felt that the trip was a raging success, and I praised my motherly skills in getting both of us to Sophie's house alive.
We both had a glorious time (Marcus slept better than he ever has before) and I was sad to leave Saturday morning. But Chris was already cleaning out the pantry in search of "The Mouse" and I needed to get home to help him put it back together. Before I left, I glanced at all four tires, following up on that nagging feeling that a flat tire was in my near future.
The trip home was going well, except I neglected to stop for food in one town when I was hungry, and then there wasn't anything else until Asheboro (home of the NC Zoo). In Asheboro, I decided I would stop at a cash machine before hitting a drivethru, just in case the one fast food joint I chose still didn't take credit cards (I had a whole two dollars in my purse). As I approached the cash machine (a drive-up), I heard a sort of thumping coming from my left rear tire. It wasn't the thump of loose rubber though... it was more of a clicking sound.
I got my cash and pulled forward with the window still open. There was the sound again... a regular click, click, click that sped up as I sped up. I pulled into a parking space and got out. And that's when I heard the hissing.
Lo and behold, there was a rock the size of a golfball (with a sharp pointy bit jabbed into my tire) sticking out at me as if to say... "You knew it, didn't you!?" I had apparently just picked it up, because the tire was still full of air, but losing it rapidly. I made a quick decision to see if there was an Auto Zone or some sort of repair shop up the road. After a mile, I didn't see one, so I pulled into Burger King -- the first restaurant I came upon -- and went right to the back of the lot so that there would be empty spaces around me to facilitate changing a tire. I got out to check, and indeed, I had a very flat tire. I called AAA and did my best to give them good information about where I was while Marcus was expressing his extreme displeasure strapped in his car seat.
The tow truck arrived within ten minutes and the guy was SO nice... he unloaded all the junk from the back of the SUV, including the stroller, to get to my donut tire, then loaded it all back in when he was done. He then told me where the nearest shop was (only another mile up the road) and sent me on my way. I grabbed food and headed to the Merchant's Tire.
Again, a VERY nice man in the store made me feel right at home and they patched my car quickly. Nothing says "damsel in distress" like a woman with her six-week-old, I suppose. They said they had to use the biggest patch they had, and they still were a little unsure about it holding. I am checking on it frequently, and if needed, I'll replace the tire. (It's practically brand new, of course... I bought it in October).
So how did I know the tire was going to go? As a Mommy, do I get a new psychic connection? Or have we just proven the adage, "Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean I won't get a flat tire?"
On Friday, I made arrangements to go see my friend Sophie and her brand new daughter, Elise. Details of the visit are on her blog, so I won't repeat them here. But I will share the story of what happened on my way home.
I was really nervous about making this trip. I was originally going to drive the three hours to Charlotte about two weeks ago, but Marcus got the sniffles after his sister coughed on him (she's such a good sharer) and Sophie felt it best that he not in turn cough on her one-week old. Even then, I was nervous that I couldn't drive there and back in one day with such a small baby in tow. I thought I would just be too tired, but I also worried that if I had car trouble driving back at night, what on Earth would I do? I just felt too vulnerable. So I was going to stay at Jason and Bernie's place (since they didn't already have a newborn in the house) and Chris and Athena were going to take the train down the next day (a Saturday) to drive back with me.
Anyway, this past Friday, after Sophie invited me to stay the night (it's amazing the difference a couple of weeks make to the mom of a newborn), I decided I could make the trip. After all, I've carted Marcus all over town and I've taken him on the one-hour-each-way trip to Greensboro TWICE, so surely he could weather three hours. And I was dying to get down to see Sophie, who has been hesitant to take her little one out and about, and drag her out of the house to go somewhere... ANYWHERE... so she could get used to running errands with a little one.
The drive down was uneventful. There was some traffic due to construction and Marcus screamed for twenty minutes before I could get to the next town and find a safe parking lot to pull into in order to feed him. But overall, I felt that the trip was a raging success, and I praised my motherly skills in getting both of us to Sophie's house alive.
We both had a glorious time (Marcus slept better than he ever has before) and I was sad to leave Saturday morning. But Chris was already cleaning out the pantry in search of "The Mouse" and I needed to get home to help him put it back together. Before I left, I glanced at all four tires, following up on that nagging feeling that a flat tire was in my near future.
The trip home was going well, except I neglected to stop for food in one town when I was hungry, and then there wasn't anything else until Asheboro (home of the NC Zoo). In Asheboro, I decided I would stop at a cash machine before hitting a drivethru, just in case the one fast food joint I chose still didn't take credit cards (I had a whole two dollars in my purse). As I approached the cash machine (a drive-up), I heard a sort of thumping coming from my left rear tire. It wasn't the thump of loose rubber though... it was more of a clicking sound.
I got my cash and pulled forward with the window still open. There was the sound again... a regular click, click, click that sped up as I sped up. I pulled into a parking space and got out. And that's when I heard the hissing.
Lo and behold, there was a rock the size of a golfball (with a sharp pointy bit jabbed into my tire) sticking out at me as if to say... "You knew it, didn't you!?" I had apparently just picked it up, because the tire was still full of air, but losing it rapidly. I made a quick decision to see if there was an Auto Zone or some sort of repair shop up the road. After a mile, I didn't see one, so I pulled into Burger King -- the first restaurant I came upon -- and went right to the back of the lot so that there would be empty spaces around me to facilitate changing a tire. I got out to check, and indeed, I had a very flat tire. I called AAA and did my best to give them good information about where I was while Marcus was expressing his extreme displeasure strapped in his car seat.
The tow truck arrived within ten minutes and the guy was SO nice... he unloaded all the junk from the back of the SUV, including the stroller, to get to my donut tire, then loaded it all back in when he was done. He then told me where the nearest shop was (only another mile up the road) and sent me on my way. I grabbed food and headed to the Merchant's Tire.
Again, a VERY nice man in the store made me feel right at home and they patched my car quickly. Nothing says "damsel in distress" like a woman with her six-week-old, I suppose. They said they had to use the biggest patch they had, and they still were a little unsure about it holding. I am checking on it frequently, and if needed, I'll replace the tire. (It's practically brand new, of course... I bought it in October).
So how did I know the tire was going to go? As a Mommy, do I get a new psychic connection? Or have we just proven the adage, "Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean I won't get a flat tire?"
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man; or, Sears on a Wednesday; or, The Second Level of Hell
I made an appointment for 11am yesterday morning at the Portrait Studio for Mr. Man's first photo session. I did Athena's pictures at five weeks as well, and they turned out pretty bad, but I'm glad I have them. You can't really get a baby that age to smile or wave or do anything cute. You just have to hope he or she does it for you and you catch it on film (or on disk, as the case may be).
I planned the morning carefully, making sure he was fed and watered and happy in time for us to be at the mall at 10:45. And it worked! I was right on time and he was napping happily in his carrier. There were two other women there, and the whole place seemed really quiet. Then the bottom dropped out.
The woman in front of me asked if I had an appointment. Yes, I do. Well, they are behind. One photographer called in sick. Great. "When is your appointment?" I ask her. "10:30." Shit.
So I decide to stick it out. The single photographer was clearly wrapping it up with the family before us. Ms. 10:30 had a small baby, so surely she wouldn't need too much time to get nothing from her. My only other plans for the day were to meet Chris for lunch. Oh, crap... I didn't eat breakfast. Well, no matter. This will be over soon. I wish I brought a book.
Then the baby woke up.
At 11:30, the family that had been a 10am appointment was still making decisions about the 800 pictures they were getting. Apparently, all five of them had pictures taken, plus there was a family photo. Great googly-moogly. Ms. 10:30 had to go change a dirty diaper and told me to go ahead. But Mr. Man had other plans. It was time for elevensies, apparently, so I had to duck into the vacant photo room to nurse.
One boob later, and he's happy. Ms. 10:30 still hadn't been seen. At 12:10, when Ms. 10:30 was done with the photos, but not done picking her choices, I called Chris and told him not to wait for me. He elected to come to Sears to keep me company. Have I mentioned what a great guy he is? Before he got there, Mr. Man demanded Boob Two: The Sequel, so back into the photo room I go.
She sees us at about 12:30 and Chris arrived shortly thereafter. As expected, Marcus is not really into "working it" for the camera. His expressions range from bored to angry to sneering. Not really a smile in the bunch. But we got about six poses to choose from, and one was really pretty good. At 1:15 pm, I was about to faint, and she was finally finished printing out and wrapping up the pictures for Ms. 10:30 and was ready to take our order. We dashed back out to the cars at 1:30 or so (about $80 lighter), and went our separate ways... getting lunch on the way back to work and the house, respectively. So much for togetherness.
I stopped at Burger King (after missing the entrance and making a U-turn) and headed home. Marcus screamed for about half of the twenty minute journey, then passed out.
All this for a mediocre picture. They did give us a free 10X13 of said picture, so that's something. As God as my witness, I shall never go to Sears Portrait Studio again (unless I have the 10am appointment -- first one of the day).
I planned the morning carefully, making sure he was fed and watered and happy in time for us to be at the mall at 10:45. And it worked! I was right on time and he was napping happily in his carrier. There were two other women there, and the whole place seemed really quiet. Then the bottom dropped out.
The woman in front of me asked if I had an appointment. Yes, I do. Well, they are behind. One photographer called in sick. Great. "When is your appointment?" I ask her. "10:30." Shit.
So I decide to stick it out. The single photographer was clearly wrapping it up with the family before us. Ms. 10:30 had a small baby, so surely she wouldn't need too much time to get nothing from her. My only other plans for the day were to meet Chris for lunch. Oh, crap... I didn't eat breakfast. Well, no matter. This will be over soon. I wish I brought a book.
Then the baby woke up.
At 11:30, the family that had been a 10am appointment was still making decisions about the 800 pictures they were getting. Apparently, all five of them had pictures taken, plus there was a family photo. Great googly-moogly. Ms. 10:30 had to go change a dirty diaper and told me to go ahead. But Mr. Man had other plans. It was time for elevensies, apparently, so I had to duck into the vacant photo room to nurse.
One boob later, and he's happy. Ms. 10:30 still hadn't been seen. At 12:10, when Ms. 10:30 was done with the photos, but not done picking her choices, I called Chris and told him not to wait for me. He elected to come to Sears to keep me company. Have I mentioned what a great guy he is? Before he got there, Mr. Man demanded Boob Two: The Sequel, so back into the photo room I go.
She sees us at about 12:30 and Chris arrived shortly thereafter. As expected, Marcus is not really into "working it" for the camera. His expressions range from bored to angry to sneering. Not really a smile in the bunch. But we got about six poses to choose from, and one was really pretty good. At 1:15 pm, I was about to faint, and she was finally finished printing out and wrapping up the pictures for Ms. 10:30 and was ready to take our order. We dashed back out to the cars at 1:30 or so (about $80 lighter), and went our separate ways... getting lunch on the way back to work and the house, respectively. So much for togetherness.
I stopped at Burger King (after missing the entrance and making a U-turn) and headed home. Marcus screamed for about half of the twenty minute journey, then passed out.
All this for a mediocre picture. They did give us a free 10X13 of said picture, so that's something. As God as my witness, I shall never go to Sears Portrait Studio again (unless I have the 10am appointment -- first one of the day).
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Who Am I?
I am completing an application that asks the following:
If your friends could state two adjectives to describe you, what would they be?
Well, geez... I'm not my friends... so what would YOU guys say? Be honest. After all, you all may pick different adjectives, so I can pick the ones I like best. But at least I would know that a friend really WOULD call me that...
(Hmmmm... perhaps "Honest" and "Lazy" may be the two words I should use).
Oh, and new friends and blog buddies are welcome to reply too. Don't hold back. First/Early impressions are often the best.
If your friends could state two adjectives to describe you, what would they be?
Well, geez... I'm not my friends... so what would YOU guys say? Be honest. After all, you all may pick different adjectives, so I can pick the ones I like best. But at least I would know that a friend really WOULD call me that...
(Hmmmm... perhaps "Honest" and "Lazy" may be the two words I should use).
Oh, and new friends and blog buddies are welcome to reply too. Don't hold back. First/Early impressions are often the best.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Ooo, Pretty! And Other Ramblings
Mr. Man is sleeping happily in his swing after three attempts this morning to put him down. (Not like a horse, mind you... I mean literally put him down). He falls dead asleep in my arms, then within minutes of me depositing him in a sleeping-type place (car seat, swing, bassinet), he awakens and begins crying. This time, he is snoring... more a result of his stuffy head than anything, but I think he may stay asleep long enough for me to do a little post.
Today is Friday, and Mr. Man is five weeks old today. I have three weeks of maternity leave left. And in all honesty, I'm having trouble even thinking about work. Strange how your head can be so into something one day, and then that same thing seems so far removed the next. It doesn't help that I'm interviewing to work at a different library, so I feel like I don't know what job I'm going back to... could be the same one... could be different. Interview is May 5 for those of you keeping track.
Athena's latest catch-phrase is "Ooooo, pretty!" She says this in regard to pretty much anything she is interested in. It's cute, but curious, as she will point to pretty much anything, including something that isn't particularly pretty, and say it. Very funny.
I'm hoping to go see American Dreamz. Haven't seen a movie in a while, so I think I'll pack Marcus up and take him sometime next week during the day. I can sit in the back and nurse if needed, and I imagine there won't be too many people there in the daytime, so I shouldn't bother anyone. I was going to go today, but Chris is home with the eye gout (pink eye), so I'll come back here.
When Chris is home, it is so tempting to ask him to help me out with things (like the load of sheets that I just started in the washer for the third time. Those are going to be some CLEAN sheets if I can ever remember to move them to the dryer.) I'm trying very hard to pretend he's not here so he can get some work done. Eye gout doesn't stop you from working from home, apparently, although when I have any sort of eye problem, I never feel like looking at a book, nonetheless a computer screen.
Well, Mr. Man is awake... again. Seems he wants to be held, and there's just no getting around it. But at least I got a little update posted. I promise I will work on downloading some more pictures from our camera and getting them posted. Watch this space!
Today is Friday, and Mr. Man is five weeks old today. I have three weeks of maternity leave left. And in all honesty, I'm having trouble even thinking about work. Strange how your head can be so into something one day, and then that same thing seems so far removed the next. It doesn't help that I'm interviewing to work at a different library, so I feel like I don't know what job I'm going back to... could be the same one... could be different. Interview is May 5 for those of you keeping track.
Athena's latest catch-phrase is "Ooooo, pretty!" She says this in regard to pretty much anything she is interested in. It's cute, but curious, as she will point to pretty much anything, including something that isn't particularly pretty, and say it. Very funny.
I'm hoping to go see American Dreamz. Haven't seen a movie in a while, so I think I'll pack Marcus up and take him sometime next week during the day. I can sit in the back and nurse if needed, and I imagine there won't be too many people there in the daytime, so I shouldn't bother anyone. I was going to go today, but Chris is home with the eye gout (pink eye), so I'll come back here.
When Chris is home, it is so tempting to ask him to help me out with things (like the load of sheets that I just started in the washer for the third time. Those are going to be some CLEAN sheets if I can ever remember to move them to the dryer.) I'm trying very hard to pretend he's not here so he can get some work done. Eye gout doesn't stop you from working from home, apparently, although when I have any sort of eye problem, I never feel like looking at a book, nonetheless a computer screen.
Well, Mr. Man is awake... again. Seems he wants to be held, and there's just no getting around it. But at least I got a little update posted. I promise I will work on downloading some more pictures from our camera and getting them posted. Watch this space!
Monday, April 17, 2006
Things That Make You Go Hmmmmmmmmm...
First "Hmmmmmmmmm" moment:
I was doing laundry today. I rarely go into the laundry room, as this is a chore that Chris embraces whole-heartedly and he does exceptionally well. He does laundry, I fold it, then we put away our respective stuff. However, I'm home all day at the moment, so I do a load or two when the need arises.
I noticed three bras hanging in the laundry room, presumably to dry. This isn't really odd in itself, but the odd part is, these are not my bras. Now, they are most likely my mother-in-law's. She has been here a lot lately what with a new grandson and all, and she has done much laundry in that time. She has returned to Texas, though, so I presume I will be mailing these back to her. At least I HOPE these are hers, as the only other choices are Athena - which seems unlikely, Chris, or Chris' girlfriend's. I'm not sure which would disturb me more... if they were Chris' or Chris' girlfriend's.
Second "Hmmmmmmmmm" moment:
Marcus has the smelliest farts ever. I would say that I don't know what he is eating that could cause such putrid smells to emerge from his very cute bottom, but I DO know what he's eating. He is eating what I'm eating... just after I eat it. It must be changing into something really horrid along the way. You wouldn't believe the odor. Very alarming.
Third "Hmmmmmmmm" moment:
I went out this evening for an Arts and Crafts Girls Night Out and when I returned, some things were a little out of place. Here is the carnage left by one little girl, age Almost Two:
I was doing laundry today. I rarely go into the laundry room, as this is a chore that Chris embraces whole-heartedly and he does exceptionally well. He does laundry, I fold it, then we put away our respective stuff. However, I'm home all day at the moment, so I do a load or two when the need arises.
I noticed three bras hanging in the laundry room, presumably to dry. This isn't really odd in itself, but the odd part is, these are not my bras. Now, they are most likely my mother-in-law's. She has been here a lot lately what with a new grandson and all, and she has done much laundry in that time. She has returned to Texas, though, so I presume I will be mailing these back to her. At least I HOPE these are hers, as the only other choices are Athena - which seems unlikely, Chris, or Chris' girlfriend's. I'm not sure which would disturb me more... if they were Chris' or Chris' girlfriend's.
Second "Hmmmmmmmmm" moment:
Marcus has the smelliest farts ever. I would say that I don't know what he is eating that could cause such putrid smells to emerge from his very cute bottom, but I DO know what he's eating. He is eating what I'm eating... just after I eat it. It must be changing into something really horrid along the way. You wouldn't believe the odor. Very alarming.
Third "Hmmmmmmmm" moment:
I went out this evening for an Arts and Crafts Girls Night Out and when I returned, some things were a little out of place. Here is the carnage left by one little girl, age Almost Two:
- Winnie the Pooh (her two foot tall one) was on Marcus' changing table. Apparently, he had a dirty diaper, but he was abandoned halfway through the process.
- Athena's dirty blanket from last week's crib (not dirty-gross, just dirty-used) was on the floor. It had been in the hamper. She has been dumpster diving. Thank goodness it was only in the hamper... not in the trash.
- Marcus' clean new blanket was on the floor, clearly having been dragged across it. It had been folded neatly on the dresser. Athena has apparently been blanket-theiving, as I don't believe Marcus is able to drag himself along the floor yet, nonetheless reach up onto the dresser and pull his blanket across the floor.
- My toothpaste and comb were placed neatly on the toilet seat (closed... fortunately). When I returned them to their drawer, I noticed my deodorant was missing. So I made inquiries. Chris told me that the deodorant was on the counter now, but when I looked, I noticed there was not much in it. This morning, it was half-full (I use the gel kind). He laughed and said he found her applying it to her arm. I suppose she smells very nice now. (No, Jessey, it wasn't Baby Rub, but isn't it still eerily similar?)
Saturday, April 15, 2006
The Casserole Queen
Funny how our cooking focus changes over the years.
To this end, I purchased the most recent America's Test Kitchen cookbook. It has a little of everything (really... everything... even cocktails I think), and it is well marked as to what is quick and easy and what will take all day. So just before Marcus arrived, I picked a few recipes to try out of this book and sent my mother-in-law out to buy the ingredients.
Unfortunately, Marcus arrived THAT NIGHT, so none of the recipes got tried. But tonight, I made a chicken recipe that is basically pizza, but substitute chicken for dough. Sounds weird, I know, but it had only a few ingredients, and it looked tasty.
I now know what makes a really good recipe. If you can mess up every step of the recipe, and even be a little short on one of the main ingredients, and the meal STILL turns out to be one of the tastiest quick meals you've ever made... THAT, my friends, is a good recipe. I accidentally put the cheese and pepperoni on before I started cooking the casserole. I knew this meant that they would be burnt once I realized the instructions had me adding them after the chicken was cooked, about five minutes before the dish should emerge from the 450 degree oven. However, we cooked it anyway.
Yes, the toppings burned. But let me tell you... that was a freaking tasty meal. I can't wait to have it when I actually do it right! Yum!
Oh, and an update for those of you curious about my baking... I haven't been able to do much of anything. My mother-in-law noticed that I hadn't yet used the way-cool rolling pin she gave me, and asked if I didn't like it/want it. NO!! NO!! NO!! I love it! Please don't take it away. I just haven't been able to use it yet. I will, I promise.
Today, I made a pie. Still couldn't use the pin because it was a graham cracker crust. And I believe it was a total disaster. I chose to make a lemon chiffon pie because it seemed appropriate for Easter dinner. Alas, I don't think the lemon part turned out thick enough, and it may have curdled. I tasted it, and it was okay... but I'm just not sure.
Fortunately, the only people who will be at my table tomorrow are close family and friends, so if it sucks, they'll just laugh at me and move on... no harm done.
- In college... I was trying to master Mac and Cheese and Spaghetti Sauce
- Just after college... I was learning how to cook with olive oil and feta cheese in an effort to eat healthier
- In my mid-twenties... I was learning the art of entertaining - making pasta from scratch and trying recipes from gourmet cookbooks
- Once I got married... I was trying desperately to look like I knew what I was doing (sometimes I succeeded)
- And now that I have kids... I'm learning to make it fast, and often to make it in one pan
To this end, I purchased the most recent America's Test Kitchen cookbook. It has a little of everything (really... everything... even cocktails I think), and it is well marked as to what is quick and easy and what will take all day. So just before Marcus arrived, I picked a few recipes to try out of this book and sent my mother-in-law out to buy the ingredients.
Unfortunately, Marcus arrived THAT NIGHT, so none of the recipes got tried. But tonight, I made a chicken recipe that is basically pizza, but substitute chicken for dough. Sounds weird, I know, but it had only a few ingredients, and it looked tasty.
I now know what makes a really good recipe. If you can mess up every step of the recipe, and even be a little short on one of the main ingredients, and the meal STILL turns out to be one of the tastiest quick meals you've ever made... THAT, my friends, is a good recipe. I accidentally put the cheese and pepperoni on before I started cooking the casserole. I knew this meant that they would be burnt once I realized the instructions had me adding them after the chicken was cooked, about five minutes before the dish should emerge from the 450 degree oven. However, we cooked it anyway.
Yes, the toppings burned. But let me tell you... that was a freaking tasty meal. I can't wait to have it when I actually do it right! Yum!
Oh, and an update for those of you curious about my baking... I haven't been able to do much of anything. My mother-in-law noticed that I hadn't yet used the way-cool rolling pin she gave me, and asked if I didn't like it/want it. NO!! NO!! NO!! I love it! Please don't take it away. I just haven't been able to use it yet. I will, I promise.
Today, I made a pie. Still couldn't use the pin because it was a graham cracker crust. And I believe it was a total disaster. I chose to make a lemon chiffon pie because it seemed appropriate for Easter dinner. Alas, I don't think the lemon part turned out thick enough, and it may have curdled. I tasted it, and it was okay... but I'm just not sure.
Fortunately, the only people who will be at my table tomorrow are close family and friends, so if it sucks, they'll just laugh at me and move on... no harm done.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Cutting the Cord
Well, today was the day... the day that my son finally gave up the little stump of his umbilical cord. Today, early this afternoon, said cord finally let go, thus ending any acknowledgement of the time spent as a parasite, living off of whatever Mommy ate. Oh, wait... he's breastfeeding, so he still does live off of what I eat. Okay, well, you get what I'm saying.
This brings up the fact that my son and my daughter are eerily similar. In fact, there are many coincidences already, and Marcus has only been alive (outside the womb) for four weeks. Now I know that one isn't supposed to compare one's children lest one feel that a particular child is favored... but let's see just for fun:
Now, there are differences as well:
Perhaps you don't find this at all interesting, but I do. Just thought I'd share.
This brings up the fact that my son and my daughter are eerily similar. In fact, there are many coincidences already, and Marcus has only been alive (outside the womb) for four weeks. Now I know that one isn't supposed to compare one's children lest one feel that a particular child is favored... but let's see just for fun:
- Marcus and Athena are almost exactly as far apart in age as my sister and I are. Only three days off.
- Both Chris and Marcus were born on holidays that you don't get off work for. (Chris on Halloween and Marcus on St. Patrick's Day)
- For both children, I went into labor around 9:30 exactly four nights before they were each due. Athena was due on a Monday, I went into labor Thursday night. Marcus was due on a Tuesday, I went into labor on a Friday night.
- Marcus' labor was exactly half as long as Athena's.
- Both children were born on a Friday... Athena at 2:55 am and Marcus at 11:49 pm. It will be interesting to see who is a morning person and who is an evening person. Athena is already winning the "good sleeper" award.
- Both children lost their cord stump on the day they turned four weeks old.
Now, there are differences as well:
- They had to break my water with Athena, but Marcus took care of that himself.
- Athena hated the car seat... Marcus loves it.
- Athena preferred to swing front to back in the cradle swing, while Marcus seems to be a side-to-side kind of dude.
- Athena is an outie. Marcus is an innie. (Belly buttons, folks, in case you are wondering)
- Oh, and well, they are two different sexes as well, but that goes without saying.
Perhaps you don't find this at all interesting, but I do. Just thought I'd share.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Back to Reality, Oop! There Goes Gravity...
So I've been doing well with this whole mommy thing. Yes, there were the (insert "H" word here) and there is the fact that sometimes Marcus sleeps when you expect him to and sometimes he doesn't, but I've been getting out, running errands, seeing friends, and generally keeping busy. I thought it wouldn't be long before I'm actually planning and preparing meals and managing the household and several other SuperMom things. But alas...
Last night, Chris took me out for an adults-only, just-us evening while my blessed (and if she keeps this up, I'm nominating her for sainthood) mother-in-law watched the rugrats. We left with Athena bawling her eyes out and Marcus only tentatively asleep in his swing. I felt horribly guilty, but not guilty enough to turn back.
Our evening was lovely and included good food and wine. We talked and laughed and used profanity freely without worry of a two-year-old parroting it back to us. We ate without wondering if our toddler would chew or spit out her food (or both). We enjoyed all of our own food without someone much shorter and cuter than us reaching over to our plates and demanding, "Some?!" And we conversed without ever raising our voices at each other, neither from anger or from trying to be heard over the increasingly loud shrieks of the harpie we call our daughter.
And we even got to enjoy some quiet time upon arriving home. Everyone was asleep and still. Until about an hour after we returned...
When Marcus awoke, it was clear that he was VERY stuffy. I had to suction out his nose with an implement we call "The Mucous Molester" because he can't blow his tiny nose himself. This instrument looks a lot like the bulb of a turkey baster, and the little turkey baster part is short and narrow enough to just fit into his nostril. You literally suction out the snot. It's one of the more glamorous parts of being a parent, trust me. At first you feel very cruel doing it, but then the relief it brings him is so worth it, you want to do it all the time. Granted, HE doesn't want you to do it all the time, but it's tempting.
Anyway, his stuffiness (at least I assume that's what it was) made him fratchy all night, and I got very little sleep. This morning, I had a 9am dentist appointment, so I took Athena to school and headed over for my once-a-quarter torture. (I go so often because I have a family history of gum disease and I would like to keep my teeth, thank you very much). Chris watched Marcus, but didn't expect my appointment to take an hour (Does anyone get out of the dentist faster than an hour? Nevermind, if I know that about you, I will then have to hate you.), so he got jumpy to get into work. He decided to meet me at a shopping center to do the great baby trade so he could get to work even faster.
I immediately assumed that it was because Marcus was being difficult, as I have really never known Chris to be anxious to get to work. In fact, at first I thought perhaps someone at work had died or had gone postal to make him want to go in so badly. But when he handed me our bundle of joy, he said Marcus had been wonderful and he just needed to get in and get things done. I can sympathize with that, so Marcus and I headed to Old Navy to kill time. His sister needs summer clothes anyway.
In the parking lot, Marcus made it clear he was hungry, so I nursed him in the front seat of the car. I've done this millions of times, so it went well and I was careful to use strategically placed burp cloths as my son has come by the Superhero nickname "The Dribbler" quite honestly. All was well, and in 15 minutes, he was in the front pack and we were inside shopping.
15 minutes later, we were out, and I found myself with a half hour to kill with a wide-awake baby before I met a group of my sorority sisters for lunch. I considered Target, and I considered BJ's Warehouse, but Marcus seemed hungry again, so instead, I found a secluded parking space and nursed again. This took me up to about 10 after 11 (20 minutes before my lunch date) and I was considering what to do to kill 20 minutes when I realized my strategic placement of burp cloths had NOT worked this time, and a great deal of the front of my shirt and my shorts were covered in milk. I wondered briefly if he actually ate ANY of the milk or if he just sprayed me with it while I wasn't paying attention.
Now, I haven't seen any of these women that were to be at the lunch in at least 15 years, and some I had never met. It was a meeting of the alumni club, which I keep meaning to participate in and keep not participating. There was NO WAY I was going into The Olive Garden looking like I had run through a sprinkler with eyes that had bags large enough under them that I would have been charged the oversize surcharge had I been trying to board a plane. So I sighed and bailed.
Upon returning home, Marcus didn't really want to sleep, but I forced him as I really DID want to sleep. We napped for about an hour, and he woke me up by butting his head against my chest like a demented soccer player. (This means "I'm hungry. Feed me you cruel wench!") He ate and dozed off, and now I can't sleep. *sigh*
The good news is, his sniffles seem to be better. I know how he got them, as just the other day, Athena was standing over him and coughing right in his face as if to say, "Here are my germs. I am sharing them with you because sharing is the right thing to do. It means I love you." Thanks, kid.
Last night, Chris took me out for an adults-only, just-us evening while my blessed (and if she keeps this up, I'm nominating her for sainthood) mother-in-law watched the rugrats. We left with Athena bawling her eyes out and Marcus only tentatively asleep in his swing. I felt horribly guilty, but not guilty enough to turn back.
Our evening was lovely and included good food and wine. We talked and laughed and used profanity freely without worry of a two-year-old parroting it back to us. We ate without wondering if our toddler would chew or spit out her food (or both). We enjoyed all of our own food without someone much shorter and cuter than us reaching over to our plates and demanding, "Some?!" And we conversed without ever raising our voices at each other, neither from anger or from trying to be heard over the increasingly loud shrieks of the harpie we call our daughter.
And we even got to enjoy some quiet time upon arriving home. Everyone was asleep and still. Until about an hour after we returned...
When Marcus awoke, it was clear that he was VERY stuffy. I had to suction out his nose with an implement we call "The Mucous Molester" because he can't blow his tiny nose himself. This instrument looks a lot like the bulb of a turkey baster, and the little turkey baster part is short and narrow enough to just fit into his nostril. You literally suction out the snot. It's one of the more glamorous parts of being a parent, trust me. At first you feel very cruel doing it, but then the relief it brings him is so worth it, you want to do it all the time. Granted, HE doesn't want you to do it all the time, but it's tempting.
Anyway, his stuffiness (at least I assume that's what it was) made him fratchy all night, and I got very little sleep. This morning, I had a 9am dentist appointment, so I took Athena to school and headed over for my once-a-quarter torture. (I go so often because I have a family history of gum disease and I would like to keep my teeth, thank you very much). Chris watched Marcus, but didn't expect my appointment to take an hour (Does anyone get out of the dentist faster than an hour? Nevermind, if I know that about you, I will then have to hate you.), so he got jumpy to get into work. He decided to meet me at a shopping center to do the great baby trade so he could get to work even faster.
I immediately assumed that it was because Marcus was being difficult, as I have really never known Chris to be anxious to get to work. In fact, at first I thought perhaps someone at work had died or had gone postal to make him want to go in so badly. But when he handed me our bundle of joy, he said Marcus had been wonderful and he just needed to get in and get things done. I can sympathize with that, so Marcus and I headed to Old Navy to kill time. His sister needs summer clothes anyway.
In the parking lot, Marcus made it clear he was hungry, so I nursed him in the front seat of the car. I've done this millions of times, so it went well and I was careful to use strategically placed burp cloths as my son has come by the Superhero nickname "The Dribbler" quite honestly. All was well, and in 15 minutes, he was in the front pack and we were inside shopping.
15 minutes later, we were out, and I found myself with a half hour to kill with a wide-awake baby before I met a group of my sorority sisters for lunch. I considered Target, and I considered BJ's Warehouse, but Marcus seemed hungry again, so instead, I found a secluded parking space and nursed again. This took me up to about 10 after 11 (20 minutes before my lunch date) and I was considering what to do to kill 20 minutes when I realized my strategic placement of burp cloths had NOT worked this time, and a great deal of the front of my shirt and my shorts were covered in milk. I wondered briefly if he actually ate ANY of the milk or if he just sprayed me with it while I wasn't paying attention.
Now, I haven't seen any of these women that were to be at the lunch in at least 15 years, and some I had never met. It was a meeting of the alumni club, which I keep meaning to participate in and keep not participating. There was NO WAY I was going into The Olive Garden looking like I had run through a sprinkler with eyes that had bags large enough under them that I would have been charged the oversize surcharge had I been trying to board a plane. So I sighed and bailed.
Upon returning home, Marcus didn't really want to sleep, but I forced him as I really DID want to sleep. We napped for about an hour, and he woke me up by butting his head against my chest like a demented soccer player. (This means "I'm hungry. Feed me you cruel wench!") He ate and dozed off, and now I can't sleep. *sigh*
The good news is, his sniffles seem to be better. I know how he got them, as just the other day, Athena was standing over him and coughing right in his face as if to say, "Here are my germs. I am sharing them with you because sharing is the right thing to do. It means I love you." Thanks, kid.
Monday, April 10, 2006
An Update From the Mommy
Well, here we are, entering Week Four of my maternity leave. Can you believe it? Marcus is three-weeks old, and at the end of the week, I'm half-way through my bonding period with my son. Astonishing. It's flying by. And here is an example of why...
Last Wednesday, I had my first "visitor who brings dinner." This is the best kind of visitor to have, except for the "visitor who cleans your house" or the "visitor who offers to babysit both kids so you and your husband can have a real grown-up conversation and remember why you actually fell in love." But the latter visitors are rare, so I doubly appreciate the one who brings me dinner. One of my coworkers (remember how nice they are?!) brought us a lovely roasted chicken with various tasty sides and a delicious Boston Creme Pie. I'm withholding her name since I didn't get her permission, but her initials are BH for those "in the know" of who I work with. Not only did she bring dinner, but she stayed and enjoyed it with us, giving me some much needed female company, and she helped do the dishes, and THEN she helped us with bath time! Great food, great help... all in all... just great! Thanks, BH!
On Friday, I received an email from an old Dialog coworker. She has apparently been training for, and has now completed, her first Triathlon! Wow! Kudos, Ms. Lila! You rock!
This weekend, we went to Greensboro to see Grandma and experience Bunny Day at the Natural Science Center. There were many bunnies to see, and several to pet. Athena was delighted. Marcus napped in the front pack. Then we went to PieWorks (gourmet pizza) and I made a huge pig of myself. Delightful!
Sunday we had a playdate with Aiden. Today, I went to a meeting regarding a franchise opportunity that I am VERY interested in. Won't say more about it now, but something is a simmerin'.
Looking ahead into this week, tomorrow I go to Greensboro again with Marcus to see my mom and get a haircut. Same guy has been doing my hair since I was 13. Why change now? Just because he is 75 miles away... no need to go through that whole "new relationship" thing with a new guy, right? Women are strongly loyal to their hairdressers. It's not just me, I know it. (And Jessey, if you have a hairdresser 75 miles away as well, it's just going to completely freak me out).
Wednesday, Marcus and I hope to go to Charlotte to visit with Sophie and brand new Elise. After all, friends who nurse together, suffer together! Thursday I have a dentist appointment (joy of joys). Then perhaps Friday, while my mother-in-law is here, Chris will take me on a date. We are (well, I am) desperately in need of a little alone time and a little romance. Our tempers have been mighty short lately, what with no sleep and all, and it will be nice to talk to each other in a civilized manner. I asked him last week if he would take me out on a date (a bit unconventional, but we're married, so it's okay) and so now I'm hoping that he can muster the energy to actually plan something and follow through. Neither one of us are high on energy lately.
Whew! And thus will end Week Four of my maternity leave. Where is it all going? And how am I finding time to do any of this stuff?! I'm off to bed now. Marcus has been asleep for a precious half hour, and I need to capitalize on this time. It's weird going to bed when it's light out, but it's even weirder to get up and change and feed your baby at 1am. Sleep is good. Oh, how I miss it.
Last Wednesday, I had my first "visitor who brings dinner." This is the best kind of visitor to have, except for the "visitor who cleans your house" or the "visitor who offers to babysit both kids so you and your husband can have a real grown-up conversation and remember why you actually fell in love." But the latter visitors are rare, so I doubly appreciate the one who brings me dinner. One of my coworkers (remember how nice they are?!) brought us a lovely roasted chicken with various tasty sides and a delicious Boston Creme Pie. I'm withholding her name since I didn't get her permission, but her initials are BH for those "in the know" of who I work with. Not only did she bring dinner, but she stayed and enjoyed it with us, giving me some much needed female company, and she helped do the dishes, and THEN she helped us with bath time! Great food, great help... all in all... just great! Thanks, BH!
On Friday, I received an email from an old Dialog coworker. She has apparently been training for, and has now completed, her first Triathlon! Wow! Kudos, Ms. Lila! You rock!
This weekend, we went to Greensboro to see Grandma and experience Bunny Day at the Natural Science Center. There were many bunnies to see, and several to pet. Athena was delighted. Marcus napped in the front pack. Then we went to PieWorks (gourmet pizza) and I made a huge pig of myself. Delightful!
Sunday we had a playdate with Aiden. Today, I went to a meeting regarding a franchise opportunity that I am VERY interested in. Won't say more about it now, but something is a simmerin'.
Looking ahead into this week, tomorrow I go to Greensboro again with Marcus to see my mom and get a haircut. Same guy has been doing my hair since I was 13. Why change now? Just because he is 75 miles away... no need to go through that whole "new relationship" thing with a new guy, right? Women are strongly loyal to their hairdressers. It's not just me, I know it. (And Jessey, if you have a hairdresser 75 miles away as well, it's just going to completely freak me out).
Wednesday, Marcus and I hope to go to Charlotte to visit with Sophie and brand new Elise. After all, friends who nurse together, suffer together! Thursday I have a dentist appointment (joy of joys). Then perhaps Friday, while my mother-in-law is here, Chris will take me on a date. We are (well, I am) desperately in need of a little alone time and a little romance. Our tempers have been mighty short lately, what with no sleep and all, and it will be nice to talk to each other in a civilized manner. I asked him last week if he would take me out on a date (a bit unconventional, but we're married, so it's okay) and so now I'm hoping that he can muster the energy to actually plan something and follow through. Neither one of us are high on energy lately.
Whew! And thus will end Week Four of my maternity leave. Where is it all going? And how am I finding time to do any of this stuff?! I'm off to bed now. Marcus has been asleep for a precious half hour, and I need to capitalize on this time. It's weird going to bed when it's light out, but it's even weirder to get up and change and feed your baby at 1am. Sleep is good. Oh, how I miss it.
Friday, April 07, 2006
Random Props and Apologies
First and foremost, hooray for Sophie, who managed to give birth to her beautful daughter Elise three days late, and she was still just over 6 pounds. Kudos! Chris claims it is taking all his strength to keep me from driving down to see you, but the truth is, I'm fully aware of how little you want a three-week old in your house waking you up whenever your own three-day-old is actually letting you sleep. I'm crazy, but I'm not mean. :-) However, I'm waiting for any and every call you want to make, whatever time of day or night. I've been there, girl... it's a bumpy road.
Second, my apologies to all my blog buddies. I have been very slack about leaving comments on your blogs, even though I read them all, and I occasionally have something witty to say. Chris tends to comment with whatever I would have said in many cases, but I didn't want you to think I was ignoring you. I often read your blogs while nursing Mr. Man, and that makes typing rather difficult. So apologies, and thanks for making me laugh at a time when I might just otherwise be driving my head into a brick wall.
Second, my apologies to all my blog buddies. I have been very slack about leaving comments on your blogs, even though I read them all, and I occasionally have something witty to say. Chris tends to comment with whatever I would have said in many cases, but I didn't want you to think I was ignoring you. I often read your blogs while nursing Mr. Man, and that makes typing rather difficult. So apologies, and thanks for making me laugh at a time when I might just otherwise be driving my head into a brick wall.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
In Praise of a Good Husband
My husband is awesome. Yes, I complain about him from time to time. Like this morning at five when I discovered (a little too late I might add) that once again he had used the remaining toilet tissue and not replaced the roll. But, for the most part, Chris is absolutely wonderful. I praise him today because he gave me a gift that I didn't think I would get for another few months. He gave me a very good night's sleep.
This is an especially challenging gift for the father of a breastfed newborn to give. After all, when the boy gets hungry, dad can't really feed him... and if he DOES give him formula, then I have to wake up and pump or else my upper torso turns to stone. However, Chris did everything he could to ensure that I could sleep.
First, when we got home from the hockey game, he offered to take Marcus and hold him so I could go lie down. That was about 10:30. At 12:30, he brought him upstairs to eat. I got two whole quiet hours of sleep. I went back to bed around 1:30, and didn't wake again until 5. When I went to bed, Marcus was asleep in his swing. When I woke up, he was lying in bed between us. I imagine he must have stirred during the night, but Chris got him before I even woke up and calmed him. 3.5 hours of uninterrupted sleep! HOORAY!
I feel like a new woman today. It's glorious. And it's all thanks to my wonderful husband. You rock, honey!
This is an especially challenging gift for the father of a breastfed newborn to give. After all, when the boy gets hungry, dad can't really feed him... and if he DOES give him formula, then I have to wake up and pump or else my upper torso turns to stone. However, Chris did everything he could to ensure that I could sleep.
First, when we got home from the hockey game, he offered to take Marcus and hold him so I could go lie down. That was about 10:30. At 12:30, he brought him upstairs to eat. I got two whole quiet hours of sleep. I went back to bed around 1:30, and didn't wake again until 5. When I went to bed, Marcus was asleep in his swing. When I woke up, he was lying in bed between us. I imagine he must have stirred during the night, but Chris got him before I even woke up and calmed him. 3.5 hours of uninterrupted sleep! HOORAY!
I feel like a new woman today. It's glorious. And it's all thanks to my wonderful husband. You rock, honey!
And We Thought America Was Paranoid of Lawsuits
Recently, Jessey called me out on my use of British English when I am not at all British. To my credit, I said "boot of the car" because my car is an SUV, and therefore doesn't actually have a trunk. What do you call the back of an SUV anyway? Is it still a trunk? I guess I used the British word because I don't know the American one...
Anyway, Cheryl and Wayne, our dear friends in London, sent us a baby gift, which we received yesterday. (Thank you, Cheryl. Your thank you note is on the way. When I say that, what I mean is, I am considering writing that note as I type this, not that it's actually in the mail or anything -- or is that "in the post?") It consisted of seven ADORABLE onesies (size 12-18 month... yay), five CUTE bibs, and a little giraffe for Athena. By odd coincidence, when Marcus was born, he also gave Athena a little giraffe. She's building quite a collection. But I digress...
Attached to the bibs was a tag that was bright red and very scary. Clearly, it was a warning label that I needed to read. Perhaps the bibs are lined with lead. Or maybe they could choke my little dear if worn incorrectly. So I read it. And I believe it is important information that we ALL should have. So here, dear readers, it what it said... word for word on both sides of the tag:
Anyway, Cheryl and Wayne, our dear friends in London, sent us a baby gift, which we received yesterday. (Thank you, Cheryl. Your thank you note is on the way. When I say that, what I mean is, I am considering writing that note as I type this, not that it's actually in the mail or anything -- or is that "in the post?") It consisted of seven ADORABLE onesies (size 12-18 month... yay), five CUTE bibs, and a little giraffe for Athena. By odd coincidence, when Marcus was born, he also gave Athena a little giraffe. She's building quite a collection. But I digress...
Attached to the bibs was a tag that was bright red and very scary. Clearly, it was a warning label that I needed to read. Perhaps the bibs are lined with lead. Or maybe they could choke my little dear if worn incorrectly. So I read it. And I believe it is important information that we ALL should have. So here, dear readers, it what it said... word for word on both sides of the tag:
Marks & Spencer
IN THE INTEREST
OF SAFETY, IT IS
ADVISABLE TO
KEEP YOUR CHILD
AWAY FROM FIRE
AND FLAMES
Whew! I am SO glad they told me that. Guess I need to take the kid out of the fireplace now.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Can It Be a Tradition If It Only Happens Twice?
Today, we are making chocolate chip cookies. This is a post-pregnancy "tradition" for me, as you are not allowed to eat raw eggs while pregnant. Obviously, this isn't a huge problem, as most people don't want to chug raw eggs unless they are training for the Heavyweight title. However, raw eggs are in chocolate chip cookie dough AND chocolate mousse. Living without BOTH these things for nine months is just awful. At many restaurants, you can find chocolate mousse in which they have heated the eggs enough to kill any nasties, so you can get by, but real cookie dough... well, you just have to eat it right out of the mixer...
So, Chris is making the cookies while I "teach." He has recently taken a strong interest in cooking, as he has discovered he has a bit of a talent for it AND he is a control freak... so now he can control his food. As a fellow control freak, I can respect that, although I have warned him that he better treat my kitchen and all my kitchen toys with respect, or I'm giving him the boot!
Making the cookies was clearly destined to happen today. Both kids are sleeping AT THE SAME TIME! I believe if this happens twice more, it will signal Armageddon, so I will keep you posted in case you need to repent really quick.
So here we ware, at a time where we should probably both be napping, we are baking and enjoying raw cookie dough. YAY! Can life get any better?
So, Chris is making the cookies while I "teach." He has recently taken a strong interest in cooking, as he has discovered he has a bit of a talent for it AND he is a control freak... so now he can control his food. As a fellow control freak, I can respect that, although I have warned him that he better treat my kitchen and all my kitchen toys with respect, or I'm giving him the boot!
Making the cookies was clearly destined to happen today. Both kids are sleeping AT THE SAME TIME! I believe if this happens twice more, it will signal Armageddon, so I will keep you posted in case you need to repent really quick.
So here we ware, at a time where we should probably both be napping, we are baking and enjoying raw cookie dough. YAY! Can life get any better?
Friday, March 31, 2006
Wondering Why Your Phone Bill is So High?
I just got a check from BellSouth. Turns out I overpaid my final bill when we switched to digital phone service.
I overpaid by thirteen cents.
They mailed me a check.
Oy.
I overpaid by thirteen cents.
They mailed me a check.
Oy.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Adventures in Babysitting
The last few days have been interesting. I'm so pleased that I'm able to get out of the house, and it's turned out to be about once a day, which is LOVELY. Yesterday was especially fun, because I took the little guy (also known as Senor Senor Junior) with me. We had a blast. Well, not a blast maybe, but I got him home alive and well. And that really is all you can ask of me thus far.
First, my friend Jamie came to visit. She spent her lunch break and then some with us, as she came into work way too early and had some time to kill. It was great to see her, and it was just as great to have a visitor. I hope to have more visitors starting next week when Chris goes back to work (hint, hint to all of you who are within driving distance of my house) as I will be completely lonely. Marcus is cute and all, but he is not much of a conversationalist. Most of the vocalizing he does occurs as he is about to poop. And that's only grunts and whimpers. Although it is kind of funny...
Anyway, when Jamie left, I gathered up my Short Term Disability (or STD - ha!) paperwork, the diaper bag, and I grabbed a bottle of water as I was already thirsty. (Breastfeeding means that you drink water pretty much constantly. I haven't NOT been thirsty since before Senor Senor Jr. was born.) I plopped my gear in the car, then grabbed His Highness and clicked him into his carseat. As we hit the road, I looked down and realized I left the freaking bottle of water on the dining room table. ARGH! No matter... we could stop and get one along the way.
I get almost to the doctor's office, and realize that I never checked to be sure the stroller was in the boot of the car. Fortunately, the new stroller we purchased is large enough to be seen in satellite images of the Earth, so one glance in my rear view assured me it was, indeed, there. Whew! The lady with the "H" word wasn't going to have to carry 9 pounds of baby and 20 pounds of car seat up to the doctor's office. Hooray!
Paperwork drop-off complete, we headed into town for the main purpose of our trip... a bra fitting. Well, MY main purpose. Marcus isn't so much interested in bras for himself. Along the way, I get the notion that a milkshake would be FAR better than water, and I map myself to the closest fast-food restaurant with decent shakes. Unfortunately, McDonalds was the only restaurant that wouldn't take me way off the beaten path... except for Wendy's, but Frosty's require a spoon, and I was interested in keeping both hands on the wheel as much as possible.
So we go to my LEAST favorite McDonald's in Cary. It is my least favorite because many of the patrons, good Cary residents that they are, are egocentric morons who can't figure out how to queue up for a drive-thru window. The design of the parking lot has many a Cary driver refusing to drive AROUND the building, and therefore they start a second line that often extends out into a street. Hard to explain here, but if you are familiar with this Mickey D's, you know what I'm talking about.
Anyway, I didn't think this would be a problem as I was going there at 2:50 in the afternoon. I give you the exact time, because it features in to the story in a moment. I pull up, and sure enough, a good citizen of Cary cuts me off from the wrong entrance of the restaurant and gives me yet another car wait for my tasty (sort of) treat. Oh, but it gets better.
After about five minutes, I realize we aren't moving. It's 2:55 pm and I have not advanced in the line AT ALL. there were SIX cars ahead of me. Can we say "late lunch?" THEN I finally inch forward and cut-me-off-at-the-drivethru woman starts placing her order. I can hear her, because both our windows are open and she has a voice that could cut glass two counties away.
"Is your ice cream machine working today?" (A valid question, I think, as if I hear a crackly "No," I too can just high-tail it out of there)
"Yes," the voice crackles back.
"Well, what do you have that's not a sundae?" the voice of anti-matter asked. (Are you kidding me?! It's McDonald's! Not Baskin Robbins!)
Crackly voice says, very politely I might add, "Well, there are milkshakes, and there is the Flurry."
"Flurry? What's that?" (To which I would like to say, "You SOUND like an American citizen. Do you seriously not know what a Flurry is?)
"Well, it's like a shake, only it has stuff stirred in... like M&Ms."
--Mind you, all this time, my son is napping happily in the car, and I know this is just killing precious nap time before he awakens and wants to eat again.--
"Is it on your menu out here? I don't see it!" (The drivethru only has a partial menu, moron... you are expected to know the entire menu by heart before you can graduate from High School. We do have our standards in North Carolina, you know. Mc'D's menu is right up there with passing SAT scores...)
"It's on our menu, ma'am, yes."
"The one out here? Where? I don't see it!"
--At this point, I closed my window and considered just leaving, but decided it wasn't worth sacrificing a milkshake. After all, this couldn't take too much longer.--
Short story long, cut-me-off-at-the-drivethru finally decided on something to order, and it was my turn at the order speaker. I ordered quickly and efficiently, and the crackly voice seemed to be well-organized and pleasant. So I expected it would only be seconds before I had my milkshake in hand. Alas... I did not move again for another five minutes. I finally DID receive my milkshake at 3:15. TWENTY-FIVE minutes in the drivethru at McDonald's in the MIDDLE of the afternoon.
I headed in to the hospital, my final destination. Rex Hospital has a Women's Resource Center also known as "The Lactation Station" where you can purchase (or rent in some cases) anything related to pregnancy and nursing. They carry the best nursing bras in town, and they have people certified to do bra fittings who are also real nurses and know what breastfeeding is all about.
Sure enough, as soon as we got there, Marcus woke up and wanted to eat. Fortunately, I'm in a place called "Lactation Station," so I found a comfy chair and he tucked right in. The nurse/shopkeeper approached and oohed and aahed in the general direction of my baby's head. This is where it gets weird.
She came right up and lifted up my shirt so she could see the action! Yipes! Fortunately, I knew she was a nurse and therefore didn't scream for security, but it was a bit weird all the same. She also saved herself with the first thing that came out of her mouth... "What an incredibly handsome little guy!" Okay, that does it for me. Compliment my baby with sincerity, and you have a friend for life. Watch all you want, lady.
Then, she told me that we were basically the poster children of breastfeeding. She described everything he was doing and why our technique was "spot on." She threw around technical terms like "hind-milk" and "Second Letdown." Sounds weird to the average Joe, I'm sure, but let me tell you, as someone who only recently was able to embrace her inner cow, I was pretty flattered. I mean, this lady is an expert!
She also guessed that Marcus was a month old at least. At first, I thought maybe it was because she spends so much time working with preemies and their mom's and therefore has lost perspective of how big a full-term baby is. But then she talked about how tall he was and guessed his weight fairly accurately. So I guess he's bigger than I thought.
After His Majesty's meal, we got down to the measuring and shopping. I was horrified to learn my new chest size (I won't reveal it here, but I will say that I rank second now among my friends for biggest maternity rack. I'm into letters I didn't know corresponded with bra sizes). The nurse coddled Marcus while I tried on about 8 bras. I selected three, and good old cluster-feeding Marcus wanted to eat again to get rid of a nasty case of the hiccups. This time, the nurse set me up in one of their lactation rooms with a rocking chair, foot stool, changing table, and a machine that looked to me like a modern iron lung. Turns out that machine is a hospital grade breast pump. EEK! My little electric pump doesn't look nearly so bad now. Wait, nevermind. Yes it does.
Soon, we were headed home, three bras richer but $100 poorer. Marcus screamed until I found disco on the radio (his dad is not thrilled with his musical taste thus far) and we made the rest of the trip home without incident.
Finally, after much hemming, hawing, and general irritability, Athena decided to stay home with me last night rather than going with Dad to the hockey game. Fortunately, Marcus slept until after she went to bed, and she was more docile than usual. I swear I don't know how people do it... have a newborn and a toddler and care for them alone day in and day out. I suppose I could do it if I had to, but thankfully, I don't have to.
So that was my day. Long post? Yes. But I had to make up for all my short little ones!
First, my friend Jamie came to visit. She spent her lunch break and then some with us, as she came into work way too early and had some time to kill. It was great to see her, and it was just as great to have a visitor. I hope to have more visitors starting next week when Chris goes back to work (hint, hint to all of you who are within driving distance of my house) as I will be completely lonely. Marcus is cute and all, but he is not much of a conversationalist. Most of the vocalizing he does occurs as he is about to poop. And that's only grunts and whimpers. Although it is kind of funny...
Anyway, when Jamie left, I gathered up my Short Term Disability (or STD - ha!) paperwork, the diaper bag, and I grabbed a bottle of water as I was already thirsty. (Breastfeeding means that you drink water pretty much constantly. I haven't NOT been thirsty since before Senor Senor Jr. was born.) I plopped my gear in the car, then grabbed His Highness and clicked him into his carseat. As we hit the road, I looked down and realized I left the freaking bottle of water on the dining room table. ARGH! No matter... we could stop and get one along the way.
I get almost to the doctor's office, and realize that I never checked to be sure the stroller was in the boot of the car. Fortunately, the new stroller we purchased is large enough to be seen in satellite images of the Earth, so one glance in my rear view assured me it was, indeed, there. Whew! The lady with the "H" word wasn't going to have to carry 9 pounds of baby and 20 pounds of car seat up to the doctor's office. Hooray!
Paperwork drop-off complete, we headed into town for the main purpose of our trip... a bra fitting. Well, MY main purpose. Marcus isn't so much interested in bras for himself. Along the way, I get the notion that a milkshake would be FAR better than water, and I map myself to the closest fast-food restaurant with decent shakes. Unfortunately, McDonalds was the only restaurant that wouldn't take me way off the beaten path... except for Wendy's, but Frosty's require a spoon, and I was interested in keeping both hands on the wheel as much as possible.
So we go to my LEAST favorite McDonald's in Cary. It is my least favorite because many of the patrons, good Cary residents that they are, are egocentric morons who can't figure out how to queue up for a drive-thru window. The design of the parking lot has many a Cary driver refusing to drive AROUND the building, and therefore they start a second line that often extends out into a street. Hard to explain here, but if you are familiar with this Mickey D's, you know what I'm talking about.
Anyway, I didn't think this would be a problem as I was going there at 2:50 in the afternoon. I give you the exact time, because it features in to the story in a moment. I pull up, and sure enough, a good citizen of Cary cuts me off from the wrong entrance of the restaurant and gives me yet another car wait for my tasty (sort of) treat. Oh, but it gets better.
After about five minutes, I realize we aren't moving. It's 2:55 pm and I have not advanced in the line AT ALL. there were SIX cars ahead of me. Can we say "late lunch?" THEN I finally inch forward and cut-me-off-at-the-drivethru woman starts placing her order. I can hear her, because both our windows are open and she has a voice that could cut glass two counties away.
"Is your ice cream machine working today?" (A valid question, I think, as if I hear a crackly "No," I too can just high-tail it out of there)
"Yes," the voice crackles back.
"Well, what do you have that's not a sundae?" the voice of anti-matter asked. (Are you kidding me?! It's McDonald's! Not Baskin Robbins!)
Crackly voice says, very politely I might add, "Well, there are milkshakes, and there is the Flurry."
"Flurry? What's that?" (To which I would like to say, "You SOUND like an American citizen. Do you seriously not know what a Flurry is?)
"Well, it's like a shake, only it has stuff stirred in... like M&Ms."
--Mind you, all this time, my son is napping happily in the car, and I know this is just killing precious nap time before he awakens and wants to eat again.--
"Is it on your menu out here? I don't see it!" (The drivethru only has a partial menu, moron... you are expected to know the entire menu by heart before you can graduate from High School. We do have our standards in North Carolina, you know. Mc'D's menu is right up there with passing SAT scores...)
"It's on our menu, ma'am, yes."
"The one out here? Where? I don't see it!"
--At this point, I closed my window and considered just leaving, but decided it wasn't worth sacrificing a milkshake. After all, this couldn't take too much longer.--
Short story long, cut-me-off-at-the-drivethru finally decided on something to order, and it was my turn at the order speaker. I ordered quickly and efficiently, and the crackly voice seemed to be well-organized and pleasant. So I expected it would only be seconds before I had my milkshake in hand. Alas... I did not move again for another five minutes. I finally DID receive my milkshake at 3:15. TWENTY-FIVE minutes in the drivethru at McDonald's in the MIDDLE of the afternoon.
I headed in to the hospital, my final destination. Rex Hospital has a Women's Resource Center also known as "The Lactation Station" where you can purchase (or rent in some cases) anything related to pregnancy and nursing. They carry the best nursing bras in town, and they have people certified to do bra fittings who are also real nurses and know what breastfeeding is all about.
Sure enough, as soon as we got there, Marcus woke up and wanted to eat. Fortunately, I'm in a place called "Lactation Station," so I found a comfy chair and he tucked right in. The nurse/shopkeeper approached and oohed and aahed in the general direction of my baby's head. This is where it gets weird.
She came right up and lifted up my shirt so she could see the action! Yipes! Fortunately, I knew she was a nurse and therefore didn't scream for security, but it was a bit weird all the same. She also saved herself with the first thing that came out of her mouth... "What an incredibly handsome little guy!" Okay, that does it for me. Compliment my baby with sincerity, and you have a friend for life. Watch all you want, lady.
Then, she told me that we were basically the poster children of breastfeeding. She described everything he was doing and why our technique was "spot on." She threw around technical terms like "hind-milk" and "Second Letdown." Sounds weird to the average Joe, I'm sure, but let me tell you, as someone who only recently was able to embrace her inner cow, I was pretty flattered. I mean, this lady is an expert!
She also guessed that Marcus was a month old at least. At first, I thought maybe it was because she spends so much time working with preemies and their mom's and therefore has lost perspective of how big a full-term baby is. But then she talked about how tall he was and guessed his weight fairly accurately. So I guess he's bigger than I thought.
After His Majesty's meal, we got down to the measuring and shopping. I was horrified to learn my new chest size (I won't reveal it here, but I will say that I rank second now among my friends for biggest maternity rack. I'm into letters I didn't know corresponded with bra sizes). The nurse coddled Marcus while I tried on about 8 bras. I selected three, and good old cluster-feeding Marcus wanted to eat again to get rid of a nasty case of the hiccups. This time, the nurse set me up in one of their lactation rooms with a rocking chair, foot stool, changing table, and a machine that looked to me like a modern iron lung. Turns out that machine is a hospital grade breast pump. EEK! My little electric pump doesn't look nearly so bad now. Wait, nevermind. Yes it does.
Soon, we were headed home, three bras richer but $100 poorer. Marcus screamed until I found disco on the radio (his dad is not thrilled with his musical taste thus far) and we made the rest of the trip home without incident.
Finally, after much hemming, hawing, and general irritability, Athena decided to stay home with me last night rather than going with Dad to the hockey game. Fortunately, Marcus slept until after she went to bed, and she was more docile than usual. I swear I don't know how people do it... have a newborn and a toddler and care for them alone day in and day out. I suppose I could do it if I had to, but thankfully, I don't have to.
So that was my day. Long post? Yes. But I had to make up for all my short little ones!
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
I Miss My Daughter
As I feared, the time I need to devote to Marcus along with the time I need to devote to getting better and healing up has all but ended my time to spend with Athena. And I think she maybe misses me a little bit too. I have to find ways to give her some of myself, even with the baby and with the "H" word.
I wish I could go to the hockey games with them. But the place is germ central (bad for Marcus) and the seats are horridly uncomfortable (bad for Mommy).
*sigh*
I wish I could go to the hockey games with them. But the place is germ central (bad for Marcus) and the seats are horridly uncomfortable (bad for Mommy).
*sigh*
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Reclaiming My Body
Well, folks, I haven't posted much over the last week because life has consisted of little more than eating, sleeping, feeding, and changing -- not necessarily in that order. The only other things going on of interest are rather disgusting, and I wasn't going to share any of that. However, since there is nothing else to talk about, here you go...
Anyone who is jealous of my short labor should also know that it has caused my body to go into some sort of weird hormonal shock. I'm not suffering from Post-Partum Depression, but there are hormonal changes that are causing me to be a bit moody (going from crying to screaming in 0.2 seconds) and over-emotional (I see a baby picture of Athena and it makes me all weepy for the "old days" -- what? you mean a year and a half ago? wtf?). Also, my body has not regained all its normal function yet, and that is what makes me grumpiest of all.
Basically, you would think that labor + breastfeeding would be enough torture for Mother Nature and she would just leave me alone. But alas, she has once again farted in my general direction. She has determined that my entire bowel system should just shut down. Just stop working. No need to rid the body of toxins... just take it easy for a week.
You can imagine, this is causing me some great distress, not to mention discomfort. I've talked to the doctor. She has me on Senekot plus the Colase I was already taking in an effort to get things moving. No luck so far. And of course, this has caused the most dreaded of all dreadful pregnancy/post-pregnancy ailments... the "H" word. So I also have several pads and creams just so I can function. (Tell a nursing mom that she cannot sit or stand for very long... she should lie down as much as possible. See what she does. If you suffer any bodily injury doing this experiment, I take no responsibility. You were the one dumb enough to do what I suggested.)
So, here I sit, wildly uncomfortable and completely frustrated that despite the fact that the baby is outside of my body, my body is still acting all whiny and mean. Perhaps just by venting my frustrations here, for anyone to read, Mother Nature will be kind to me and wave my systems back into motion. But I'm going to go eat eggs just to help her along. Eggs ALWAYS work. If they don't work today, I may have to go to the ER, just to be sure all my parts are actually still there.
Anyone who is jealous of my short labor should also know that it has caused my body to go into some sort of weird hormonal shock. I'm not suffering from Post-Partum Depression, but there are hormonal changes that are causing me to be a bit moody (going from crying to screaming in 0.2 seconds) and over-emotional (I see a baby picture of Athena and it makes me all weepy for the "old days" -- what? you mean a year and a half ago? wtf?). Also, my body has not regained all its normal function yet, and that is what makes me grumpiest of all.
Basically, you would think that labor + breastfeeding would be enough torture for Mother Nature and she would just leave me alone. But alas, she has once again farted in my general direction. She has determined that my entire bowel system should just shut down. Just stop working. No need to rid the body of toxins... just take it easy for a week.
You can imagine, this is causing me some great distress, not to mention discomfort. I've talked to the doctor. She has me on Senekot plus the Colase I was already taking in an effort to get things moving. No luck so far. And of course, this has caused the most dreaded of all dreadful pregnancy/post-pregnancy ailments... the "H" word. So I also have several pads and creams just so I can function. (Tell a nursing mom that she cannot sit or stand for very long... she should lie down as much as possible. See what she does. If you suffer any bodily injury doing this experiment, I take no responsibility. You were the one dumb enough to do what I suggested.)
So, here I sit, wildly uncomfortable and completely frustrated that despite the fact that the baby is outside of my body, my body is still acting all whiny and mean. Perhaps just by venting my frustrations here, for anyone to read, Mother Nature will be kind to me and wave my systems back into motion. But I'm going to go eat eggs just to help her along. Eggs ALWAYS work. If they don't work today, I may have to go to the ER, just to be sure all my parts are actually still there.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Twins, Separated By Two Years
Here is a picture of Athena at about 2 days old.
And here is one of Marcus.
Is it possible to have twins two years apart? I wonder...
And here is one of Marcus.
Is it possible to have twins two years apart? I wonder...
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Brothers and Sisters
Okay, I admit that I have seemed a bit unsure about how Athena would handle having a little brother. She is a very loving little girl, so on optimistic days, I knew she would love having a little guy to take care of and look after with Mommy. But she is also used to running this house, and on pessimistic days, I worry that she will hate having to share everything with her younger sibling. I'm still not sure how it will really turn out in the end, but last night was very encouraging.
Daddy had gone off to play games with the boys, so Mommy, Grandma, and Marcus were all home with Athena. I wasn't feeling very well strength-wise, plus the milk machine was open for business, so Grandma was entertaining Athena. Suddenly, soon after Marcus had eaten and I had put him in the pack and play, Athena came tiptoeing into the room. She went right over to the bassinet and peered in. "Baby," she said. "Sleepy baby." I told her yes, the baby was sleepy, and it was nice of her to come in so quietly. She then proceded to put every little baby toy in the room into the bassinet next to her brother. As if this weren't generous enough of her, she even tossed in her brand new Dora doll that Aiden's mom had just given her and that she had refused to part with all through dinner and bathtime.
Inevitably, Marcus began to stir, and Athena tiptoed back over and said, "Shhhhhhhhhhh" with her finger to her lips. She was very concerned that he was upset. He woke up fully, and needed a change, so while I changed him, Grandma held Athena up so she could see what we were doing. She was fascinated, and when he started crying in earnest due to being bared open to the world, she started tearing up as well. But Grandma explained that he was okay, and we ran the hairdryer over him to keep him warm while we changed his diaper so he wouldn't be so upset. Athena perked up a bit, and she watched us, completely wrapped up in her little brother and very clearly concerned for his well-being.
I still feel a bit guilty for thrusting this new circumstance upon her, but she is obviously handling it okay. Even this morning, she came barreling into the bedroom, clearly happy to be alive and well-rested, and she came right up to Marcus, who was once again dining happily, and she stroked his head very gently. I swear this kid is going to make me cry with her sweetness before long.
Daddy had gone off to play games with the boys, so Mommy, Grandma, and Marcus were all home with Athena. I wasn't feeling very well strength-wise, plus the milk machine was open for business, so Grandma was entertaining Athena. Suddenly, soon after Marcus had eaten and I had put him in the pack and play, Athena came tiptoeing into the room. She went right over to the bassinet and peered in. "Baby," she said. "Sleepy baby." I told her yes, the baby was sleepy, and it was nice of her to come in so quietly. She then proceded to put every little baby toy in the room into the bassinet next to her brother. As if this weren't generous enough of her, she even tossed in her brand new Dora doll that Aiden's mom had just given her and that she had refused to part with all through dinner and bathtime.
Inevitably, Marcus began to stir, and Athena tiptoed back over and said, "Shhhhhhhhhhh" with her finger to her lips. She was very concerned that he was upset. He woke up fully, and needed a change, so while I changed him, Grandma held Athena up so she could see what we were doing. She was fascinated, and when he started crying in earnest due to being bared open to the world, she started tearing up as well. But Grandma explained that he was okay, and we ran the hairdryer over him to keep him warm while we changed his diaper so he wouldn't be so upset. Athena perked up a bit, and she watched us, completely wrapped up in her little brother and very clearly concerned for his well-being.
I still feel a bit guilty for thrusting this new circumstance upon her, but she is obviously handling it okay. Even this morning, she came barreling into the bedroom, clearly happy to be alive and well-rested, and she came right up to Marcus, who was once again dining happily, and she stroked his head very gently. I swear this kid is going to make me cry with her sweetness before long.
Monday, March 20, 2006
The Milkman Cometh...
Marcus is three days old today. Already, I can tell this maternity leave is going to be a million times better than my first. I actually got out of the house twice today... once completely on my own to take Athena to school, and once with Chris to pick her up. It's not that I didn't have help last time... but last time, with the millions of stitches and the great pain I was experiencing, I couldn't leave the house. I was on driving restrictions, first of all, and then I was so baffled by breast vs. bottle, I was afraid to leave Athena for five minutes in case she got hungry and someone was forced to (deep intake of breath) give her formula from a bottle.
However, with age and experience comes wisdom. I know breastfeeding is the best thing for a baby, but I also know that a bit of formula here and there won't kill him. As long as I can keep up production, all is good. Which brings me to the real topic-du-jour... my transformation from woman to cow.
There is a lot of propaganda out there about breastfeeding, and many organizations will have you believe that it is a magical experience unequal to any other experience you will ever have in your life. In fact, just by the nature of this post, I'm sure I will attract one or two breastmilk zealots who will leave comments to that effect. But let's talk turkey, folks. There is nothing glamorous or wickedly magical about breastfeeding. It is about as "just a fact of life" as you can get. And don't even get me started on the pump... which is really just every torture implement from the middle ages all rolled into one and pushed on poor, hapless working moms who just want to do what's best for their baby. (Okay, I guess I got myself started).
Anyway, today, my milk came in. The factory opened for business. Marcus was able to get a square meal off of me rather than just the "premilk" which is really just oil and fat that he had been previously enjoying. Hooray for milk! Nevermind that now my breasts are achy and there is a lump in one that could quite possibly signify a clogged duct that may or may not work itself out before it becomes infected. Or perhaps I could share with you the burning sensation I get when Marcus hasn't eaten in a while letting me know that he better do so soon or I may explode. No no... let's not talk about any of that. We'll stick to the glamour and the magic.
... um... well, he's pretty cute when he eats. I suppose that's kind of magical. And after he eats, he's on such a milk high that he sleeps with his little mouth hanging wide open. That's pretty neat. um.... well... oooooookay... end magic here I suppose.
So now I am in the full throes of motherhood. Marcus was up every two hours last night, and now I have tender, although large, breasts that may or may not end up leaking. I'm also still bleeding from labor and delivery (that's something they don't tell you in health class... some women bleed for SIX WEEKS. Bah, humbug). So... do you think I'm sexy?!
Fortunately, I am not going through the horrible self-esteem problems that breastfeeding brought on last time. This time, my transformation to bovine beauty happened without so much as a blink on my part. I am cow, hear me roar. Last time, I felt awful knowing that my main purpose in life was to have a baby hanging off my breast. This time, I am able to shrug and just do it without really thinking much about how it looks or what it means. In fact, I'm comfortable enough to share it with all of YOU, and I'm sure you are very glad I did.
Is breastfeeding magical? No. But having a baby and nourishing it and watching it grow and smile those little gassy smiles... that, my friends, is magical. So for those of you about to embark on this whole breastfeeding adventure for the first time... focus on the big picture. If you are feeling down and cow-like, just moo and be happy.
However, with age and experience comes wisdom. I know breastfeeding is the best thing for a baby, but I also know that a bit of formula here and there won't kill him. As long as I can keep up production, all is good. Which brings me to the real topic-du-jour... my transformation from woman to cow.
There is a lot of propaganda out there about breastfeeding, and many organizations will have you believe that it is a magical experience unequal to any other experience you will ever have in your life. In fact, just by the nature of this post, I'm sure I will attract one or two breastmilk zealots who will leave comments to that effect. But let's talk turkey, folks. There is nothing glamorous or wickedly magical about breastfeeding. It is about as "just a fact of life" as you can get. And don't even get me started on the pump... which is really just every torture implement from the middle ages all rolled into one and pushed on poor, hapless working moms who just want to do what's best for their baby. (Okay, I guess I got myself started).
Anyway, today, my milk came in. The factory opened for business. Marcus was able to get a square meal off of me rather than just the "premilk" which is really just oil and fat that he had been previously enjoying. Hooray for milk! Nevermind that now my breasts are achy and there is a lump in one that could quite possibly signify a clogged duct that may or may not work itself out before it becomes infected. Or perhaps I could share with you the burning sensation I get when Marcus hasn't eaten in a while letting me know that he better do so soon or I may explode. No no... let's not talk about any of that. We'll stick to the glamour and the magic.
... um... well, he's pretty cute when he eats. I suppose that's kind of magical. And after he eats, he's on such a milk high that he sleeps with his little mouth hanging wide open. That's pretty neat. um.... well... oooooookay... end magic here I suppose.
So now I am in the full throes of motherhood. Marcus was up every two hours last night, and now I have tender, although large, breasts that may or may not end up leaking. I'm also still bleeding from labor and delivery (that's something they don't tell you in health class... some women bleed for SIX WEEKS. Bah, humbug). So... do you think I'm sexy?!
Fortunately, I am not going through the horrible self-esteem problems that breastfeeding brought on last time. This time, my transformation to bovine beauty happened without so much as a blink on my part. I am cow, hear me roar. Last time, I felt awful knowing that my main purpose in life was to have a baby hanging off my breast. This time, I am able to shrug and just do it without really thinking much about how it looks or what it means. In fact, I'm comfortable enough to share it with all of YOU, and I'm sure you are very glad I did.
Is breastfeeding magical? No. But having a baby and nourishing it and watching it grow and smile those little gassy smiles... that, my friends, is magical. So for those of you about to embark on this whole breastfeeding adventure for the first time... focus on the big picture. If you are feeling down and cow-like, just moo and be happy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
