Magic and randomness

"Oh, looky! A remote!"

"Ohmmmm. Ohmmmm."

"Yeah. I rock. I'm the next great magician. Now watch me make it disappear!"

On with the randomness!

~ The diaper E is wearing is the newest addition to the diaper collection. We have entered the world of prefolds. Quite fun, and a ton cheaper than the other obsessions. However, they are the biggest pain in the ass to fasten when Lil' Miss Buttercup refuses to sit still or stand still or at least not put up such a huge struggle. I'm still searching for something to hold her attention for longer than .4 seconds.

~ I had an idea for two matching somethings to sew, and am obsessing over the fabric that is on it's way here. I'm going to make up a prototype this weekend. So, so excited about this one!

~ I'm not leaving my apartment for the rest of the holiday season. In one venture merely 5 minutes up the road, I . . .
. . . was nearly hit by someone running a red light.
. . . was flipped of for taking a parking spot that was rightfully mine - blinker on and everything.
. . . was bashed into while walking through the store, caused to drop everything, and no one offered to help pick it back up - despite the juggling act I was already doing with the kid.
. . . was not given a bag for my purchases. Yes. At Best Buy, I actually had to ask the cashier to put my stuff in a bag.
. . . was told to "hurry up and move" while standing next to my car and buckling the kid in. Apparently, me getting to my car first and spending the 30 seconds to buckle her in was going to ruin this person's day. Despite the fact they told me to move BEFORE they had even gotten into their car.
. . . was cut-off by a semi truck, who was dead stopped in one lane and decided he wanted to be in mine as I was approaching. The speed limit is 55. And he turned just about when I was at his bumper. And yeah, my brakes really stink when they get locked up.
And that, folks, is why I'm not leaving the apartment until next year.

Wordless Wednesday - Oh, take me there!

True love, it's what I'm dreamin' of . . .

Meet Kitty, the meanest, nastiest, most terrifying three-legged feline around. This is the cat that would bring squirrels, rabbits and birds to my grandfather daily. This is the cat that I inherited because I am the only person he doesn't maul. This is the cat that will shred your forearm just because it came within striking distance.

And now?

This is the cat that purrs and cuddles and licks the little girlie's head. This is the cat that lets her climb on him, pull his tail and grab his ears.

This is the mellowest, softest, cushiest pillow around.

There's Kool-aid in that water

I have a mass suicide going on in my fishtank, and it's not pretty. I woke up to find 50% of the population either floating or stuck to the filter.

There's a desperate rescue attempt for the survivors, but I'm afraid they aren't going to make it. Either the heater went out - cause the water is at 72, when it should be at 78 - or something is in the water, because it looks kinda funky.

Or they got a hold of the Kool-aid.

ACU diaper bag

Looky, looky what else I did!

It took me six months to get up the nerve to finish it once I cut the fabric. Sure, the seams aren't all that lovely, and it could be structured a little better . . . but hey, I think it's pretty good for a first attempt. And no, I didn't sew the pocket on crooked, it's just velcro-ed funny.



I did some major damage at JoAnn's the other day and have stacks of future projects. Fabric, beads, and scrapbooking supplies galore. It's getting very crowded around here as my crafting corner is overflowing. I have visions of an entire closet, with shelves and drawers and counters and all that good stuff. Someday, someday.

Once my aluminum rings get here, I'll get started on a ring sling to replace my pouch sling that E is too big for now. I am torn as to what to do with that now - sentimentally attached to it, but wondering if I could sell it for anything. Hmm . . .

Yeah, I did that.

I did it, I did it!! Wahoo!

I just successfully replaced the elastic in one of E's BumGenius diapers. I am so thrilled with myself, it's not even funny.

See, these things are insanely expensive, and I have 9 of them. All of which had the elastic completely wear out within 6 months of me using them. They're supposed to last a lot longer than that. The company claimed it was a bad batch of elastic, but I learn more towards cheap elastic, cause they weren't all purchased from the same place or at the same time. No reason for all of them to go bad.

So anyways, I've just saved myself a ton of money by being able to fix them and not have to replace them. It's not the prettiest thing, but it's functional. And that makes me very, very happy!

This whole sewing machine thing just keeps proving to be more and more useful.

Our day - E's narrative

"Help, help! Let me out! I'm trapped in here with the crazy lady!"

"Seriously, woman, get with it. There's still a pumpkin out here and it's December already. And this window is absolutely filthy. I'm not sure I even want to stick my mouth on it, it's that bad."

"Fine, I guess I'll just have to fold my own diapers. Obviously you aren't going to do it. Now push me to my room!"

Christmas Past, Present and Future

Burgh Baby's Mom has requested my participation in her very own meme. Again, I'm honored that I'm that interesting. So, in accordance with rule number one, here is the list of my favorite childhood Christmas gift, my favorite gift that I received as an adult, and a gift that I would like to receive in the future. As for the rest of the rules, I'll only partly follow them. I hate tagging people, so I'll just do two, instead of the requested three. Colleen at A Madison Mom and Jenn at Life on the Roof.

Christmas Past:
I was (and admittedly still am) very spoiled. I got a pony for Christmas one year. Seriously. A pony. Kinda hard to top that, but something did. Long, long ago I used to dream that I would be a hockey player. I must have been 8 or 9, and couldn't skate to save my life. But, oh, I was going to learn. That year my parents surprised me with a set of hockey sticks and some pucks. As my mom and stick-in-the-mud sister stayed inside, my dad and I spent hours on the frozen driveway. We had a make-shift goal and everything. I still can't skate to save my life, but I cried a little inside when we sold those sticks at a garage sale recently.

Christmas Present:
I'd love to be sappy on this one and claim some heartfelt, romantic gift from my husband is my favorite, but I can't. I can't pull myself away (or my feet out of) my boots. Nothing romantic about boots. Practical. Yes, very, very practical. And they were all M's idea, so that makes them even better. He suggested, I said "sure honey" and they arrived at my doorstep. That's the kind of Christmas presents we do. Two months in advance and picked out together.

A good second runner up would be each of the ornaments my mother has given me. Each year we both try to find a few special and unique ornaments to give each other. Sure, she may have crazy taste, and may leave me wondering what she was thinking . . . but I can always get her back the next year.

Christmas Future:
This is the section I have reserved to be sappy. All I want for Christmas is my husband, my daughter and our home, wherever it may be. Waking up on Christmas morning and making waffles and watching the parade while E rips open presents. No staying at a relatives house, no planning three different locations in one day. Maybe some day . . .

However, a super awesome photo printer that would allow me to never have to rely on Target or Walmart for my prints would be just excellent. :-D

Yeah, more pictures . . .

I refrained myself and just picked out my four favorite. Instead of the thirty-two I have as 'really good ones'.

I learned something during this photo shoot. A second adult must be present to maintain the attention of E. Otherwise, what should take 30 minutes will take hours. Crawling away, yanking the backdrop down, chewing on the dress. It's all good fun.

Wordless Wednesday - Always Read the Signs!

100 Things for a 100th Post

In honor of my 100th post on this thing, I figured I would do a 100 things kind of post. I thought about 100 things I've learned about being a mom, or 100 reasons why the Army sucks, or 100 reasons my family is insane. Instead, I chose to stick to the roots of this blog, and my longest year. So . . . 100 things I miss about my husband.

I miss . . .

1. The sound of ramen noodles being pounded on the countertop.

2. Leftover crunchies all over the floor from those noodles.

3. 35 drinking glasses, most half full of water, scattered throughout the house.

4. 65 folded-up, un-used paper towels also scattered throughout the house.

5. CNN always being the homepage.

6. Someone to share the bottle of wine with.

7. Toothpaste chunks in the sink.

8. My bed-warmer.

9. Random geography lessons.

10. The trash getting taken out by someone other than me.

11. Socks. Everywhere.

12. Fishing soggy candy bar wrappers out of the washing machine.

13. Muddy boots.

14. Wet towels left on the bed all day.

15. Someone to pump my gas.

16. Elbows to the head in the middle of the night.

17. The alarm clock going off at 4:50am. And 5:05am. And 5:20am. And 5:25am.

18. Mock combatives.

19. Gossip.

20. Someone to watch South Park, SVU and the Daily Show with.

21. My ice cream enabler.

22. Giving haircuts.

23. Hand holding.

24. Being nagged to fold my clothes.

25. Pillow snatching.

26. Midnight walks in the snow.

27. Someone to open the salsa jar.

28. Wearing sexy underwear for a reason.

29. Deep conversations that come out of nowhere.

30. Flowers for no reason.

31. Someone to warm up the car.

32. Grocery shopping.

33. Motorcycle rides.

34. Being dragged to the movies.

35. Having a spider killer.

36. And a middle of the night noise investigator.

37. Sharing a shower.

38. Fighting over how hot the water should be.

39. A cozy shoulder to snuggle on.

40. Someone to wash the car.

41. Lunch breaks.

42. Weekend get-aways.

43. Trying new restaurants.

44. Stealing the last few bites of a snack.

45. Back rubs.

46.Someone to fix all technological problems by simply looking at the offending electronic item.

47. Fighting over the remote.

48. Bargaining for yard work time.

49. Hearing grumbles over hanging Christmas lights.

50. Being lied to about what time we're really supposed to leave - so that I'm on time.

51. Getting the giggles in church.

52. Hearing someone sing, causing the giggles in church.

53. Fighting over the thermostat.

54. Snoring.

55. Sharing the computer chair to look up something fun together.

56. Going to bed at a normal hour.

57. The anticipation of him walking in the door after work.

58. Stinky uniforms.

59. Good morning kisses.

60. Having someone to cook for.

61. Brushing my teeth with an audience.

62. Locking the bathroom door so there won't be any practical jokes.

63. Having to stay on one side of the bed.

64. Chess.

65. Staying up all night talking.

66. Having a running partner.

67. Hearing baby laughter that only a Daddy can cause.

68. Sharing a blanket on the couch.

69. Being made hot tea, just cause it's cold out.

70. Catching him watching me.

71. Exploring new places.

72. Pretending to listen about cars.

73. Arguing about driving.

74. The smell of his deodorant.

75. The toilet paper roll being put on backwards.

76. Having a reason to get off the computer at night.

77. Not worrying about running out of cell minutes.

78. Friendly competition.

79. Someone to lean on in church.

80. Foot rubs.

81. Piles of magazines in the bathroom.

82. Dressing up.

83. Inside jokes.

84. Wondering around Lowe's, dreaming of future houses.

85. Telling someone to stop breathing so darn loud.

86. Being tickled.

87. Having the covers thrown off on a cold morning to get me moving.

88. Wet hugs.

89. Dishes in the sink.

90. Seeing who can build a better fire.

91. Swinging in the hammock.

92. The farmer's tan.

93. Being held while I cry.

94. Not making every decision, every day

95. Sharing.

96. Icy hands or toes on a warm body.

97. Long hugs in the kitchen.

98. Day old stubble, scratchy kisses.

99. Sex. Lots of sex. (Really now, did you think I was going to leave this one out?)

100. Him. My husband. My best friend.

My two front teeth . . .

If you squint, you can see them in there. I think she's working on the top ones now.

"All I want for Christmas are my four front teeth . . ."

Fa la la la laaaa!

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.

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.

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?

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.

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!)

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.

Wordless Wednesday

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Jingle jangle

There are certain toys of E's that I have a deep disdain for. The Learning Puppy is pretty high on that list. Nothing says freaky like hearing "Hug me!" or "That tickles!" coming from a box in your packed up house in the middle of the night.

However, one other particular toy ranks just a little higher on the annoyance scale than that song filled pup. The Clink 'N Chew Keys are the most annoying things in my house right now. If you so much as breathe in their direction, this fake jingling sound keeps playing. Over and over and over. And there is no off button. Heaven help us if E is almost asleep and I don't notice them on my way to put her down. That is one of her favorite noises. "Jingle jingle jingle" go the keys. "Play!" goes E, eyes wide open, ready for action.

Even worse though, is when those stupid keys become a new play toy for the cats. Sitting alone, in the faint glow of just the computer screen, and hearing "jingle jingle jingle" coming from under the dining table is enough to make me just about jump out of my skin. Clearly their basket full of feline appropriate toys is no longer appealing.

When they start playing with the toy piano and stacking rings, we may have to have an intervention.

Wordless Wednesday - Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween from the cutest confectionery colored canine impersonator around :-)

In the holding pattern

So . . . . . .

I am not a wuss.

According to the tech at my MRI that I had today, I'm in for a bit of a recovery time now, due to multiple fractures of my pelvis and sacral region.

I knew it.

Now, it's just a waiting game to see what goes down when the full report from the scan shows up at my doctors. Not that there is much that can be done besides chilling out and not doing anything dumb to hurt myself more. But, there is a possible silver lining to all this, which I may or may not be getting my hopes up about. Further posting on this subject will come once there is an outcome. I'll either be really really pissed, or really really happy.

In the meantime, E and I are hanging out around the house, both slightly cranky (a combination of teething and boredom on her part).

I cannot put into words how much I have missed my broadband. Cable, eh, I can do without. But man, it feels like I'm flying through the internet world again tonight.

Gimpy

I'm still here. Daily cursings of dial-up internet, hard chairs, two flights of stairs, acrobatic 6 month olds, and quack doctors is occuring.

I still can't walk, can't pick the kid up without being afraid to drop her in pain, and still can hardly sleep no matter how I lay.

In short, this blows.

Why I will not be a bull rider any time soon

Getting tossed to the ground from a live, bucking animal hurts. Like hell.

This weekend I came out to my mom's and we had another sleepover (there's something about getting fed real food and having someone else to play with the baby for a bit that does wonders for the spirit). So, on Sunday I decided to ride the horse for a while before we left. I've been meaning to jump on him for weeks now, and it was a beautiful day, so I hauled the saddle out to the barn and tacked him up.

Now, this horse has a very ornery streak to him. For years we've been working with him to not buck when he starts off loping. Not big bucking, just a little annoyed kick of the back feet. On Sunday, he was an angel. Not one buck, did everything I asked him to. And then, I made the mistake of thinking "just one more time around." Apparently he had had enough and made sure I knew it. He bucked and lurched and jumped all the way across the damn pasture. And I hung on almost the whole way. Until he headed towards the fence. I'm pretty sure I started to bail off, and got tossed at the same time. And I hit the ground hard. No tuck and roll here. Though I did roll as fast as I could in hopes of not getting stepped on, as I had visions of hooves smashing into my skull. That's always a pleasant thought.

Anyways, I was yelling as I went down and mom came running with E. She couldn't get me up, so I laid there trying to catch my breath while she caught the horse and stuck him in the barn (cause a loose horse was the last thing we needed). Eventually I crawled my way into the house and collapsed on the couch. Standing up made me blackout, and when I was still that way an hour later, we realized there was no way my mom was going to get me into the car and to anywhere to get x-rays, so we called an ambulance and I got my first ride in one.

I spent forever at the hospital - they forgot I was even there in the first place, forgot to put in orders for stuff, etc - and got sent home with a diagnosis of "contusions on the kidney and other bruising" and was prescribed nothing. They were kind enough to recommend some over the counter Motrin.

So, here I am, camping out at my mom's house for a while because I can't walk without supporting myself on something, can hardly pick E up and still almost pass out from time to time when I move. It took me 10 minutes to get from the bedroom to the kitchen this morning. I'm not a wuss or a hypochondriac, but I'm pretty sure this is not simply bruising when I can't put any weight on my one leg and have to shuffle everywhere cause I can't pick my feet up.

So yeah, no more bucking animals for this girl for a long time. There is nothing that makes you realize just how mobile you have to be with a 6 month old until you can't do anything but lay next to her on the floor and hope she's content to play like that for a long time.

20 years of riding and this is a first, so I suppose that's not too bad.

I worked out with Courtney Love today

Running down the path today in Cuyahoga Valley National Park, I saw an odd sight. Pre-kinda-cleaned-up-her-act Courtney Love. Lumpy, stringy and pasty. Shuffling down the path in all her indecent glory. Dirty, chunky blond hair, dingy and see-through wife beater, blood red lipstick, see every cellulite lump tight jeans, and a messy tramp stamp.

Of course, it wasn't really her. But the spectacle left me wondering what exactly this look-a-like was doing there. Exercising? Enjoying nature? Lost?

I encountered her three different times. The first time, I ran by while humming Celebrity Skin and making up a hilarious narrative in my mind (that I do wish I could remember - it really was funny).

The second time almost ended in disaster. I was on my way down the monster hill and deep in concentration. Fresh asphalt, a rainy day and falling leaves does not a safe trail make.

For those unexperienced in the science of asphalt, I'll break it down for ya. This awesome little reaction occurs when blacktop gets wet, and a nasty, slick, oily substance emerges as a film on top. A highly slippery film. Personally, I was schooled on this phenomenon when I was 15 and my boyfriend smashed into the car in front of us on a rainy day. Apparently, he was unaware of the dangers then as well. Now, add some damp leaves into the mix, and you've got a recipe for fun. And running shoes with no traction? Even better. And trying to desperately hang on to 35 pounds of baby and stroller before they go hurtling down the hill, dragging you behind by the safety strap? Absolute excitement. Thrills. Chills. And unstoppable forward motion.

Moving at a barely controlled slide/shuffle, I came careening around a corner and happened upon none other than Impostor Courtney. Smack dab in the middle of the trail, bent over, and tying her shoes. Nothing like a little excitement a la person dodging. After today, I'm convinced strollers need hand brakes. Just like a bike. Oh, how I needed a brake today.

Nonetheless, the dodge was successful, though something explicit may have come out of my mouth. (Shh, no one will ever know. At least, not till my little parrot starts talking ;-) We made it back to the car unscathed. Loaded up and headed out of the parking lot, only to encounter Impostor Courtney yet again. This time, I'm sure she was lost. That's the only conclusion I can come to given the fact that she was standing in the middle of the drive, glazed look, and stared me down as I approached her. Only when my car was within 10 feet of her did she shuffle off into the woods.

Weirdness.

6 Months Old

She's getting to be such a big girl. Finally she sits unassisted, and that just opens up a whole new realm of photography with her. This afternoon we had a couple of sessions, which she tolerated nicely. Some in the living room, some on the balcony (in her Halloween costume - which won't be posted till M sees it. Surprise, surprise!), and then packed up the backpack and headed down the power lines to find a good spot for some outdoor ones.

After we were done, I headed up the road to grab something to eat from the local grocery store. Apparently quite the sight, with E tucked in the mei tai and my tripod sticking out the top of my backpack, I got plenty of looks from people driving by. Babywearing, walking instead of driving, and camera equipment plant a big, old "Gawk at Me!" sign on my back.

Wordless Wednesday - "You don't say!?"

Where have all the candles gone?

Where, oh where?

In the old house, I had candles on every surface - bookshelves, TV stand, coffee table, kitchen table, console table, dresser, night stand, even the bathroom counter. I was prepared. When the power went off there, the only thing I had to search for was that pesky lighter that was never in the same spot.

I have absolutely no idea what happened to them.

Perhaps I sold them at the garage sale (though why would someone buy mostly burned candles?), or tossed them during my fits of de-cluttering (though, why would I toss something I use all the time?) or . . . they're in a box at the very bottom of my 6-box-high stack in the closet. Yes, I have at least 5 boxes in there that I have no clue was the contents are. Someone wasn't thinking ahead by just writing on the tops of the boxes, now was she?

So, here I was, plunged into darkness and candle-less.

Well, actually, I had one candle. My mother-in-law pawns off all the disgusting smelling ones she receives as gifts. On Sunday she followed me out to my car to hand me one. It's light blue. All light blue candles smell the same to me, and I always wish I had remembered that and not bothered to open the cap and take a whiff. I was sneezing for a good five minutes. I haven't tossed it yet, so, in theory I did have one candle.

Instead of subjecting myself to another sneezing fit, I did what any other good little outdoors-woman would do. I strapped my headlamp on my head and went on about my business. Important business, like reading the newest Backpacker magazine. Not frivolous stuff like actually folding those clothes in E's room (which have now relocated from piles on the floor to a giant pile in the rocker).

The newest trick

So, E's newest trick is coughing. Lord help me, my baby loves to cough. I'm going to take her places, she'll be hacking away, and people are going to look at me like I'm that horrible mother dragging around her sick child.

My mom was getting over something this weekend, and was coughing a lot on Friday. On Saturday, the first thing I heard from E was her lovely imitation. She thinks it's hilarious.

You wouldn't catch me trick-or-treating there!

There is a house that I often drive past that has always gone all out with their Halloween decorations in the yard. For years they have always covered the trees in cobwebs, had the white sheets for ghosts and the gravestones and such.

This year they have far exceeded all the past years. On one side of the yard is a Jason scene - mask, bloody chainsaw and dismembered bodies on the ground around him. The other side they have a circle of what appear to be spirits worshiping or something - white figures with white faces around a body of a person lying in the middle. And then in the middle of the yard is a complete Dracula scene - Dracula with fangs and blood dripping, woman dressed in white lying on an altar-type thing with her arms up as though she's shielding herself from the vampire hovering over her, candles and minions all around the altar. Strewn throughout all this are open coffins with bodies inside, gravestones and other decorations. These figures aren't your run-of-the-mill scarecrows or stuffed clothing. They are life-size and life-like mannequins. I would go so far as to say they could be mistaken as real people upon first glance (or as one drives by).

I wish I had pictures, but I haven't been talented enough to snap one while driving past yet. If I remember tomorrow, I will.

So tell me, what's your take on this? Is it appropriate for a neighborhood, front yard decoration? Or should graphic scenes like this stuff be kept for the haunted houses or other locales where impressionable children won't see it out of the car windows?

Nothin' doing

What I am supposed to be doing:

Folding E's clothes (yeah, I got so annoyed at digging through the clean clothes basket, I vacuumed and tossed them into piles in hopes it would motivate me to finally fold them. Doesn't look like it's working, now does it?)
And, cleaning the fish tank. (though, with the shock they got when the heater was out last night, a clean tank just might finish them off!).

Clearly, I am not doing either of these things :-)

We are getting so old!

25 today for me.

The other day I was sitting on the deck with my mom, chatting away, enjoying the sunshine. She stopped mid-sentence and started staring at me like I had sprouted horns or something. Slowly she reached over to my head, plucked up a piece of hair, and lovingly yanked it out of my head. Gleefully she dangled the offending gray hair in front of my face. And told me I was officially old now.

She's been warned against bringing any more of these offenders to my attention for at least 10 years.

I feel like I'm 16

The in-laws brought me these this morning per the request of M. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday to mee-eee, happy birthday to me (in three days :-)

I hear MTV's "Sweet Sixteen" in my head every time I look at them and it makes me laugh. They smell absolutely wonderful, which makes up for the fact that I a) hate roses and b) hate pink roses. The comical part is that M specifically requested anything other than roses - I love that he knows me so well. And I love that when I said all I wanted was flowers for my birthday, he jumped right to it. Brownie points by the pan-full! (Have I ever mentioned how much I love that man?)

This morning when the in-laws called, they did the classic "Where are you? At home? Good, cause we're on our way there now." Which buys me exactly 22 minutes. I decided this morning that I am superwoman. In that 22 minutes I managed to finish nursing the baby, clear the kitchen, hide two baskets of laundry I have been thinking about folding for a couple days now, pick up all toys and baby clutter, take a shower, brush my teeth, find some non-wrinkled clothes, change the baby and find her a clean shirt. As I picked her up from the changing table, the door buzzer rang. Yes, this morning I was superwoman.

As requested by M, the following are completely unrelated pictures of E enjoying her new highchair/3-in-1 Booster Seat/whatever you want to call it. I like it, she likes it, I cook, she watches me and tosses her toys on the ground.

Step away from the stove

Two reasons to step away from the stove. I can cook, and I can't cook.

I can cook: I've been grazing all night on the juicy Burbon Chicken and rice I made earlier. That, along with some easy Chicken Parmensan, was meant to be taken to my mom's tomorrow and plated up for my grandma. Put down the fork!

I can't cook: I nearly cried as I tossed out two yummy sounding new recipes I tried out. Layered Pumpkin Loaf and Cheesy Beer Soup both bit the dust. Hard. The pumpkin stuff was burnt to a crisp on top, and uncooked mush in the middle. And the soup was curdled and smelled so rancid I almost lost my breakfast. That's what I get for actually following the recipes, unlike what I do for any other thing I cook ("a little of this", "little of that", "stir a little", "maybe that was cooked long enough", "think I'll cook it a little longer").

No more cooking this week. My fridge is stocked to support the Deployment Diet - grapes, string cheese, yogurt, jello, and Eggo waffles.


The winners:

Bourbon Chicken

4 servings
time to make 35 min 15 min prep
2 lbs boneless chicken breasts, cut into bite-size pieces
1-2 tablespoon olive oil
1 garlic clove, crushed
1/4 teaspoon ginger
3/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1/4 cup apple juice
1/3 cup light brown sugar
2 tablespoons ketchup
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1/2 cup water
1/3 cup soy sauce

1. Heat oil in a large skillet.
2. Add chicken pieces and cook until lightly browned.
3. Remove chicken.
4. Add remaining ingredients, heating over medium Heat until well mixed and dissolved.
5. Add chicken and bring to a hard boil.
6. Reduce heat and simmer for 20 minutes.
7. Serve over hot rice and ENJOY.


Easy Chicken Parmesan
(5 min. prep)

1 Jar (26 oz) spaghetti sauce
6 Tbsp Grated parmesan cheese, divided
6 small, boneless, skinless chicken breast halves (1-1/2 lb)
1-1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese

Preheat oven to 375*F. Pour sauce into 13x9-in. baking dish. Carefully stir in 4 Tbsp (1/4C) of the parmesan cheese. Add chicken; turn over to evenly coat both sides with sauce. Cover with foil.

Bake 30 min. Uncover.

Top with mozzarella cheese and remaining 2 Tbsp parmesan cheese; continue baking 5 min. or until chicken is cooked through and cheese is melted. Serve over hot cooked pasta, if desired.



The losers:

Layered Pumpkin Loaf

1 cup canned pumpkin
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp. granulated sugar, divided
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
4 egg whites, divided
1/2 cup fat-free milk
1/4 cup canola oil
2 cups flour
2-1/2 tsp. CALUMET Baking Powder
2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice
1/4 tsp. salt
1 pkg. (8 oz.) PHILADELPHIA Neufchatel Cheese, 1/3 Less Fat than Cream Cheese, softened

PREHEAT oven to 350ºF. Grease a nonstick 9x5-inch loaf pan; set aside. Mix pumpkin, 1 cup granulated sugar, the brown sugar, 3 of the egg whites, milk and oil in large bowl. Add flour, baking powder, pie spice and salt; stir just until moistened. Set aside. Beat Neufchatel cheese, remaining 2 Tbsp. granulated sugar and the remaining egg white with wire whisk until well blended.
SPOON half of the pumpkin batter into prepared pan; spoon Neufchatel cheese mixture evenly over the batter. Cover with remaining pumpkin batter.
BAKE 1 hour to 1 hour 5 min. or until wooden toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Run knife or thin spatula around edges of pan to loosen bread; cool in pan on wire rack 10 min. Remove bread from pan to wire rack; cool completely.


Beer and Cheese Soup

5 tablespoons butter
2 carrots, finely chopped
2 leeks, white and light green parts only, finely chopped
Salt and pepper
1/3 cup flour
3 cups milk
One 12-ounce bottle amber beer, such as Dos Equis
1 1/2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
10 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, grated (about 3 1/2 cups)
Croutons, for garnish

1. In a large saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the carrots and leeks, season with salt and pepper and cook, stirring, until soft, 10 minutes. Add the flour and cook, stirring often, for 2 minutes.
2. Slowly pour in the milk, whisking constantly. Increase the heat to medium-high, add the beer and mustard and bring the soup to a boil, whisking constantly. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, whisking, until creamy and thickened, about 10 minutes.
3. Remove the pan from the heat. Whisk in the cheese 1 handful at a time until combined. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Top with the croutons.

Sniffle

We're getting sick. Aside from getting up every once in a while to shush the stuffed up baby back to sleep, I've been making a nice indent in the recliner tonight. Me, a down blankie and a purring kitten. And mindless television. The only productive thing I've done tonight was to pick up E's big play blanket off the floor so that the cats wouldn't sleep on it.

My body aches, and my throat hurts, so . . . peace out. I'm going back to cuddling with a kitten.

Sweetness. And niceness.

I'm nice :-)

Okay, okay, so I fooled someone into thinking that. Sarah at In the Trenches of Mommyhood gave me this sweet little thing and now I'm happy to pass it on. So, BurghBaby and Tattoos and Drool this here is for you.