I just bought tickets to see the Trans Siberian Orchestra and I am so. freaking. excited.
I was convinced I wasn't going to find anyone to go with me, and the prospect of going alone wasn't all that enticing. And then, out of nowhere, my mother began going on and on about how much she would love to go to the show. (Shhh, don't fill her in on the inspiration for the music. We'll let her be slightly surprised once we're there and seated.) Provided E goes to sleep for whomever watches her, and my mother behaves herself and doesn't finish off what's left of my nerves, it will be an excellent time.
I still remember when M took me to see them. It was freezing out, and we were both dressed way up (I looked damn fine, if I do say so myself). We had blocks to walk, through the slushy streets of Akron. Once we were inside, we found ourselves seated next to a couple in jeans and Metallica shirts. M in a suit, and Metallica shirts. Klassy.
After the show, and wandering back to the car, we drove back to campus and broke into the dorms. It was winter break, and completely deserted. But, uh, M needed something from his room . . . or something like that . . .
Ah, memories.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
It's over
The blissful streak has finally ended. After 181 days of sleeping 12 + hours, E woke up in the middle of the night for the first time.
Sure, there were nights during the whole learning to roll phase where she would whimper enough to get me to flip her back over. But we won't count those. They don't even come close to this madness.
There was crying, there were tears, there was fighting not to lay down, there were high pitched wails . . . but worst of all . . . there was puke. Green puke. Mmmm, peas. Yum!
It never dawned on me to strategize how to handle this mid-night waking thing. Do I pick her up? Do I just rub her back? Do I let her nurse? Do I change her diaper? All those little things that could just maybe lead to this becoming a very bad habit. I probably stood next to her crib for a few minutes, dumbfounded, trying to figure out just what I was supposed to do. I tried all of the above options, and then some, valiantly hoping she'd fall back asleep. And then she puked, and solved my dilemma.
While I wrestled with the crib mattress, cursing it to release the death grip on the sheet, E passed out on the floor.
I guess, sometimes, you just need to get it all out. Literally.
Sure, there were nights during the whole learning to roll phase where she would whimper enough to get me to flip her back over. But we won't count those. They don't even come close to this madness.
There was crying, there were tears, there was fighting not to lay down, there were high pitched wails . . . but worst of all . . . there was puke. Green puke. Mmmm, peas. Yum!
It never dawned on me to strategize how to handle this mid-night waking thing. Do I pick her up? Do I just rub her back? Do I let her nurse? Do I change her diaper? All those little things that could just maybe lead to this becoming a very bad habit. I probably stood next to her crib for a few minutes, dumbfounded, trying to figure out just what I was supposed to do. I tried all of the above options, and then some, valiantly hoping she'd fall back asleep. And then she puked, and solved my dilemma.
While I wrestled with the crib mattress, cursing it to release the death grip on the sheet, E passed out on the floor.
I guess, sometimes, you just need to get it all out. Literally.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Silly child . . .
"Those are Mama's presents!"
" No, no, no, you can't chew on the super fancy external hard drive Daddy got Mama for Christmas."
"Here, chew on the box."
Still in a bleary-eyed, stuffy head fog. E is starting to protest the lack of enthusiasm in the fun mom department.
If I wasn't too damn cheap, I'd take her swimming tomorrow.
Maybe we'll just go to the mall so I can sneeze all over other shoppers.
Aren't you glad you aren't around me?
" No, no, no, you can't chew on the super fancy external hard drive Daddy got Mama for Christmas."
"Here, chew on the box."
Still in a bleary-eyed, stuffy head fog. E is starting to protest the lack of enthusiasm in the fun mom department.
If I wasn't too damn cheap, I'd take her swimming tomorrow.
Maybe we'll just go to the mall so I can sneeze all over other shoppers.
Aren't you glad you aren't around me?
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Who used all the Kleenex?
I was told I'm neglecting my blog. Frankly, I doubt anyone else cares, except that person who has it set as their homepage (ahh, let me count the ways he loves me!)
Being that I'm sick, exhausted, nauseous, slightly delirious and am surrounded by an endless sea of tissues . . . I feel it best to leave any deep thoughts to a later time. I fear the excessive amounts of crankiness and depression that just might surface. (I said excessive. As in, above the average amounts that are here.)
I can't leave anyone hanging though. I give to you the child who clearly has so few teething toys that she needs to chew on the table.
Being that I'm sick, exhausted, nauseous, slightly delirious and am surrounded by an endless sea of tissues . . . I feel it best to leave any deep thoughts to a later time. I fear the excessive amounts of crankiness and depression that just might surface. (I said excessive. As in, above the average amounts that are here.)
I can't leave anyone hanging though. I give to you the child who clearly has so few teething toys that she needs to chew on the table.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
7 things about me meme . . . meme me me . . .
So many exciting things in one day! (yes, my life really is that dull that I do get excited about things like this). Burgh Baby's Mom tagged me for 7 random things about me. So, here we go.
1. I cannot go to bed at night without crossing the day off my calendar.
I will actually get up from my warm, cozy bed to go do that. Each day crossed off is another day closer to the end of this longest year.
2. This one time, at band camp . . .
I met a boy, but he was dating my best friend. Well, I married that boy, and that best friend is a wonderful lady that I still love to talk to.
3. I will eat that entire super-size box of cereal.
So rarely do I have milk in the fridge that isn't spoiled or iffy, that when I do get cereal and milk, I'll eat the whole box in just a few days (or less). That way I don't have to worry about the milk spoiling before I eat the cereal.
4. As a teenager, I spent my Friday nights in a marching band uniform and the rest of the weekend at horse shows.
I showed competitively in the American Quarter Horse Association shows in this state and the next one over. Some years I kicked ass, and some years I got my ass kicked. I'm glad I stopped showing and took time for myself once I graduated high school, but I always kind of miss that lifestyle.
5. I went clubbing in Russia when I was 16.
Bookworm, dorky, boring, never-do-wrong . . . and there I went. With my school's popular' girls and everything. Of course, they never talked to me again after that night (I think they asked me to go because I knew more of the language than all of them put together), but still. There I was, attempting to dance to funky techno in St. Peterburg's biggest nightclub. That is also the night we crammed 8 people into a Lada to get us back to our host families. Who had all encouraged us to go out. Ahh, Russia.
6. I got my first job when I was 13.
The family run, local ice cream and drive-in joint. Labor laws? Pshaw, who cares about those. That was one of the most fun jobs I've ever held (well, actually, I think all of my jobs have been fun - B&BW, hotels, nursery - they've all been fun in their own ways). Probably the fact that two of my best friends worked there as well boosted the fun-ness.
7. I am 7 pounds lighter than I was 10 years ago.
That's right. You can hate me. My driver's license has had the same weight on it since I got it, and here I am, wedding ring so loose I have to wear it on my middle finger and fitting into clothes I never thought I'd see again. All but one pair of my pants can be taken on and off without unbuttoning. I think I need to go shopping.
So. There's that. And now, I tag everyone who reads this :-) (Yes, I'm actually just that lazy that I don't want to have to single someone out - so tag! You're all it!)
1. I cannot go to bed at night without crossing the day off my calendar.
I will actually get up from my warm, cozy bed to go do that. Each day crossed off is another day closer to the end of this longest year.
2. This one time, at band camp . . .
I met a boy, but he was dating my best friend. Well, I married that boy, and that best friend is a wonderful lady that I still love to talk to.
3. I will eat that entire super-size box of cereal.
So rarely do I have milk in the fridge that isn't spoiled or iffy, that when I do get cereal and milk, I'll eat the whole box in just a few days (or less). That way I don't have to worry about the milk spoiling before I eat the cereal.
4. As a teenager, I spent my Friday nights in a marching band uniform and the rest of the weekend at horse shows.
I showed competitively in the American Quarter Horse Association shows in this state and the next one over. Some years I kicked ass, and some years I got my ass kicked. I'm glad I stopped showing and took time for myself once I graduated high school, but I always kind of miss that lifestyle.
5. I went clubbing in Russia when I was 16.
Bookworm, dorky, boring, never-do-wrong . . . and there I went. With my school's popular' girls and everything. Of course, they never talked to me again after that night (I think they asked me to go because I knew more of the language than all of them put together), but still. There I was, attempting to dance to funky techno in St. Peterburg's biggest nightclub. That is also the night we crammed 8 people into a Lada to get us back to our host families. Who had all encouraged us to go out. Ahh, Russia.
6. I got my first job when I was 13.
The family run, local ice cream and drive-in joint. Labor laws? Pshaw, who cares about those. That was one of the most fun jobs I've ever held (well, actually, I think all of my jobs have been fun - B&BW, hotels, nursery - they've all been fun in their own ways). Probably the fact that two of my best friends worked there as well boosted the fun-ness.
7. I am 7 pounds lighter than I was 10 years ago.
That's right. You can hate me. My driver's license has had the same weight on it since I got it, and here I am, wedding ring so loose I have to wear it on my middle finger and fitting into clothes I never thought I'd see again. All but one pair of my pants can be taken on and off without unbuttoning. I think I need to go shopping.
So. There's that. And now, I tag everyone who reads this :-) (Yes, I'm actually just that lazy that I don't want to have to single someone out - so tag! You're all it!)
Rockin'
I like a little excitement in my life.
I'm on Top Momma, the bloggity popularity contest. So, help me be popular for once in my dorky life, and click this here button to keep me in the clique!
I promise genuine, intelligent, thought-provoking, deep and profound posts in return.
Well, maybe.
Or I'll just tell you about the mice that live on my balcony.
I'm on Top Momma, the bloggity popularity contest. So, help me be popular for once in my dorky life, and click this here button to keep me in the clique!
I promise genuine, intelligent, thought-provoking, deep and profound posts in return.
Well, maybe.
Or I'll just tell you about the mice that live on my balcony.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
7 Months
The girly is 7 months old. Time is flying by.
We had lots of firsts today. Nothing like packing it all in at once.
~ First sign of teeth. They're through the gums. Not enough to write home about, but plenty to blog about.
~ First bad reaction to a food. Pluots (plum apricot cross). Not so great. I was actually saving them for later down the road, but grabbed a cube this morning thinking I had the bag of plum cubes. Apparently permanent marker is not permanent on freezer baggies. And apparently, E will not be getting these again, as she puked all over me, herself and the cat. (Yes, the cat - he smells pretty now.)
~First major bump on the head. A giant goose-egg, courtesy of the wall. Who knew those things were stationary.
~ First clapping. Or perhaps she was mocking her mother as she made a fool out of herself.
~ First pull-up to standing. Lord help us. Nothing is safe now.
We had lots of firsts today. Nothing like packing it all in at once.
~ First sign of teeth. They're through the gums. Not enough to write home about, but plenty to blog about.
~ First bad reaction to a food. Pluots (plum apricot cross). Not so great. I was actually saving them for later down the road, but grabbed a cube this morning thinking I had the bag of plum cubes. Apparently permanent marker is not permanent on freezer baggies. And apparently, E will not be getting these again, as she puked all over me, herself and the cat. (Yes, the cat - he smells pretty now.)
~First major bump on the head. A giant goose-egg, courtesy of the wall. Who knew those things were stationary.
~ First clapping. Or perhaps she was mocking her mother as she made a fool out of herself.
~ First pull-up to standing. Lord help us. Nothing is safe now.
Friday, November 16, 2007
They're furry, with zippers, and I love them!
My husband rocks. Big time. This isn't just brownie points, this is like Coldstone's Birthday Cake Remix with Brownies points.
Generally, I protest any and every purchase the man makes. He likes to spend his money, I like to tell him not to. It's just the way it works in our house.
This time, however . . . wise, wise purchase he talked me into. (Okay, so I was all for this one from the beginning, but shhh, let's not ruin my record.) These boots are the absolute most comfortable things I have ever had on my feet. Stylish? Meh, I have no one to impress. They compliment my wispy ponytail and spit-up covered hoodie.
I haven't taken them off all day. (They're brand new, so they don't violate my OCD, no shoes in the house rule.) In fact, I'm sitting here right now with toasty toes . . . while the rest of me turns into an icicle.
Boots, boots, I love my boots!
Generally, I protest any and every purchase the man makes. He likes to spend his money, I like to tell him not to. It's just the way it works in our house.
This time, however . . . wise, wise purchase he talked me into. (Okay, so I was all for this one from the beginning, but shhh, let's not ruin my record.) These boots are the absolute most comfortable things I have ever had on my feet. Stylish? Meh, I have no one to impress. They compliment my wispy ponytail and spit-up covered hoodie.
I haven't taken them off all day. (They're brand new, so they don't violate my OCD, no shoes in the house rule.) In fact, I'm sitting here right now with toasty toes . . . while the rest of me turns into an icicle.
Boots, boots, I love my boots!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
How to Nap:101
Step 1: Whine.
Step 2: Refuse to nurse.
Step 3: Refuse to lay down.
Step 4: Whine more.
Step 5: Follow Mommy into the bathroom while she does laundry.
Step 6: Whine more.
Step 7: Get comfy on cozy blanket with lots of toys.
Step 8: Realize Mommy is not listening to you and is going to take a shower.
Step 9: Whine more.
Step 10: Try to pull self up on shower curtain.
Step 11: Cry, because shower curtain is too slippery.
Step 12: Find blankie in clean clothes basket.
Step 13: Clutch blankie and suck thumb.
Step 14: Make Mommy wonder why you're so quiet.
Step 15: Pass out.
Step 16: Let Mommy take a super long, hot shower and then wonder how to get you to your crib and off the hard floor.
Step 2: Refuse to nurse.
Step 3: Refuse to lay down.
Step 4: Whine more.
Step 5: Follow Mommy into the bathroom while she does laundry.
Step 6: Whine more.
Step 7: Get comfy on cozy blanket with lots of toys.
Step 8: Realize Mommy is not listening to you and is going to take a shower.
Step 9: Whine more.
Step 10: Try to pull self up on shower curtain.
Step 11: Cry, because shower curtain is too slippery.
Step 12: Find blankie in clean clothes basket.
Step 13: Clutch blankie and suck thumb.
Step 14: Make Mommy wonder why you're so quiet.
Step 15: Pass out.
Step 16: Let Mommy take a super long, hot shower and then wonder how to get you to your crib and off the hard floor.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Back to 'real' life
E and I are on our own again. M began his long trip back to the sandbox tonight. This last week was more than I could have ever hoped for, and I've spent a lot of time thanking God for me falling off that darn horse. M was a wonderful help and I barely had to lift a finger (aside from our new sport of E-wrangling - two people are just not enough to get a diaper on that kid). We're optimistically heading into this last leg of the deployment, with only around about a third of the 15 months left. Time is going to fly. I hope.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Really, Really Happy - All of Us
M is home on emergency leave to help me recover, and E is loving her new playmate. Bonding time aplenty.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
More spontaneous combustion
Huge Decision = done
Outcome = Really, Really Happy
And to quote Forrest, "And that's all I'm going to say about that."
For now, at least.
Suspense. It's a wonderful thing.
Outcome = Really, Really Happy
And to quote Forrest, "And that's all I'm going to say about that."
For now, at least.
Suspense. It's a wonderful thing.
I think my head may explode
Spontaneous combustion. Without a doubt.
I'm surprising myself at being able to even type.
Just got off the phone with M and I'm beginning to think he may suspect just how few of my marbles I have left. Seriously. It was bad. I found myself stuttering and unable to put together complete sentences, let alone intelligent thoughts.
The little corner of my brain that handles stress is apparently malfunctioning right now.
The Huge Decision that is going to make me either Really Happy or Really Pissed is about to go down. Stay tuned.
I'm surprising myself at being able to even type.
Just got off the phone with M and I'm beginning to think he may suspect just how few of my marbles I have left. Seriously. It was bad. I found myself stuttering and unable to put together complete sentences, let alone intelligent thoughts.
The little corner of my brain that handles stress is apparently malfunctioning right now.
The Huge Decision that is going to make me either Really Happy or Really Pissed is about to go down. Stay tuned.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Happiness is . . .
Baby hands. Soft, gentle baby hands.
Putting E to sleep tonight was one of the more difficult nights we've had. The second she's out of the bath it's an all out war to get a diaper and pajamas on. No small feat with slow motion movement on this end. Add to the mix inconsolable sobbing, complete with crocodile tears and pauses to hack and sputter. Great for the stress level.
At one point, I could feel myself on that cry/scream/yell/bang your head against the wall point. I set the wriggling, screaming bundle of unhappiness down on her floor blanket and went into the bedroom and just screamed into my pillow. Got it all out.
When I came back to the living room, E was still sobbing, but now looking at me like "Why don't you love me, mama?"
Made me feel just wonderful. (sarcasm there, for those of you without that radar).
Finally I got her calmed down, fed and into bed. And she just laid there with her eyes wide open, staring at me. Like I was abandoning her or something.
Guilt is a powerful thing.
Out she came, and onto the bed we went. Snuggled up and face to face. As I was stroking her hair, mushing about how much I love her and how sorry I was I lost my temper, she reached her little hand up and stroked my cheek. And then reached out with her other hand and clasped my thumb.
So, there we were. Her hand on my face was the sweetest touch I've ever felt and, even just for a little while, made everything else disappear.
Putting E to sleep tonight was one of the more difficult nights we've had. The second she's out of the bath it's an all out war to get a diaper and pajamas on. No small feat with slow motion movement on this end. Add to the mix inconsolable sobbing, complete with crocodile tears and pauses to hack and sputter. Great for the stress level.
At one point, I could feel myself on that cry/scream/yell/bang your head against the wall point. I set the wriggling, screaming bundle of unhappiness down on her floor blanket and went into the bedroom and just screamed into my pillow. Got it all out.
When I came back to the living room, E was still sobbing, but now looking at me like "Why don't you love me, mama?"
Made me feel just wonderful. (sarcasm there, for those of you without that radar).
Finally I got her calmed down, fed and into bed. And she just laid there with her eyes wide open, staring at me. Like I was abandoning her or something.
Guilt is a powerful thing.
Out she came, and onto the bed we went. Snuggled up and face to face. As I was stroking her hair, mushing about how much I love her and how sorry I was I lost my temper, she reached her little hand up and stroked my cheek. And then reached out with her other hand and clasped my thumb.
So, there we were. Her hand on my face was the sweetest touch I've ever felt and, even just for a little while, made everything else disappear.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)