Part of the crowd, and naming the baby

It's so fun to feel part of the crowd. Like, this weekend, AJ was invited to a birthday party for one of his schoolmates, Madison. There have been 1 or 2 parties since he started there (in infancy), but we've never gone. Well, scratch that -- I TRIED to take him to a McDonald's party once, but the not-so-bright mom just put "McDonald's" on the invite, didn't say which one, and there are 2 equidistant from the school... she also didn't put an RSVP phone number. So we attempted to guess and visited 2 McDonald'ses that day. The party was located at? Neither. But anyway, this Saturday we succeeded in attending a party at Monkey Joe's (hoo-boy, that is an energy festival for a group of 3-year-olds!), and I really, really enjoyed meeting the other parents. Some of them, I've seen going in or out of the classroom through the years, so I knew which Mom was Evan's mom and could see the resemblance in Megan's mom, for instance, but we're always in such a hurry to drop-off and pick-up that we've never actually exchanged names or talked. And it turned out that everyone was NICE people. Interested, and interesting. Kind. Funny. Good parents. There were a few dads, too, and DH had a good time talking with them. I was surprised because usually I get all nervous and introverted and don't talk to anyone. Maybe it was the venue; you can't really help ga-gah-ing over the kids as they bounce around having the Time Of Their Lives, and you want to help the parent who's kinda misplaced their kid for the moment, because it'll happen to you 5 seconds later. It's all just jovial and friendly. Wheee! So that was fun. I wish we'd traded phone numbers, in case some Saturday I'm dying to invite one of AJ's buddies over to play, but maybe next time.

I'm also loving the little following (well, HUGE following is more like it) that Swistle has gathered -- y'all know how much I've adored her myself -- and since there is someone else, jen, who's pregnant and in her circle, and recently revealed her list of Baby Names, I thought, why not? I'm feeling like an accepted part of THAT crowd, too. (You like me, you really like me.)

Now, DH and I didn't Tell last time, and it drove people crazy. We wouldn't even tell our long list. This time I'm not feeling so secretive, although yesterday my neighbor asked and I refrained from telling him, for some reason.

I've had real trouble coming up with boy names that I like. Our last name is one syllable and begins with "T" so my rules include No T first names because: "Tee-Tee." I also don't allow "S" first names because the first names of my in-laws, down to the bride-to-be, are all "S" names, and by darn I'm not going to be the ONLY one without an "S" name on that side of the family. I suppose I should tell that AJ is really A#le#X. So, for boys:

Carson -- DH's father's middle name, and one I liked a lot last time, but I'm only 'meh' about this time. It's trendy and that turns me off a bit. I typically pair it with Joseph, which is my dad's name.

Justin -- have always liked this name, since I was a child

Owen -- which DH doesn't like

Jonathan -- haven't even told DH I'm mulling this one over but I think he'd approve

William (Will) -- ditto this

DH likes Logan, but I wrinkle my nose at it a little. He also suggests Blade, but I wrinkle my nose at it a lot and hope he's kidding.

Marcus is another one I kinda like, but not Mark. Of course one of my best friends from college is Marcus (Mark) and so I hesitate.

For girls:

Jenna -- for me this is the top runner. Jenna Elizabeth, I think. Maybe Jenna Elaine.

Julianna -- DH's suggestion, and I love the sound of it, but our extended family includes a Juli-AH-na, and we prefer the other pronunciation. I think that would just get confusing.

I really was keen on Molly for a while, but we have some friends we see pretty regularly with a 4-year-old Molly, and maybe they'd be too close in age? I hate that argument, too, that someone ELSE named their kid "X..." but when it's people you actually SEE regularly or hear about in family news (Juliana), I think it makes a big difference.

Some other girl names I like:
Avery (LOVE this, although I'm not sure I care for the "A" alliteration)
Megan
Katie or Kate (not Caitee or Cate, but would probably be Katherine)
Brianna (too bad, another family name that *truly* can't be used; but I do like the way it sounds; didn't realize that 'til recently)

I mentioned to "my crowd" (hee) that I like Bernice; I do, and it's a family name. But when it comes down to it, I'm maybe not brave enough to really use it. (I do still think it was cute in Hope Floats.)

Kiddie Coaster

I got a phone call yesterday from the OB's office saying one of my blood tests had come back abnormal. >>Insert unnecessary medical information about what it could mean, here (coughdownssyndromecough), and why did you need to tell me that at this stage, Nurse Helpsalot?<< It made us a bit nervous that they wanted to schedule an ultrasound right away (today). But they wanted to measure Tummy to make sure that my due date was correct, because if not, the test results could have been skewed and maybe normal, after all.

So. I cried a bit. DH worried himself a headache. We prepared as much as we could for possibly having to do an amniocentesis if the gestational age WAS, in fact, correct. Went for the ultrasound this morning, and the first thing the technician said was, 'oh you can't be 16 weeks.' She said she thinks my due date should really be Feb 24, (15w4d) and that therefore they drew the blood too early and probably everything is fine.

They did another blood test and we should get those results next week.

What an interesting 20 hours it has been. I've always known truth in the phrase, 'Where much has been given, much will be required..." and I've anticipated that someday Much would be required of me with all my innumerable blessings in this life (...but really, God, I'm not sure I am strong enough to handle this, are you sure?...) And to start thinking, "It isn't that it's a BAD diagnosis, it's just different from what you were expecting..." (and then secretly cry when you think of it anyway)... So. I did my best to keep calm since there was not really anything to get stressed over yet, but emotions have been running rather high. Like a roller coaster, but not a really big one. A small one. Like, 2 or 3 hills, some jerky turns -- the Georgia Cyclone if you've ever been to Six Flags here. Not the Scream Machine.

Okay, now the fun part where your hair blows in the wind and you hope the ride never stops: The technician said she could GUESS the gender of the baby... but not to go shopping just yet, because it's still really too early to know for sure....





Her guess was a Girl. :)

Play by play

I pretended I was away for Labor Day, blogging-wise. I only opened the laptop once during the long weekend, and that was legitimate, focused work-time on a freelance project. (I worked one whole hour. Woo.) Otherwise I spent my time laying on the couch or sitting on the carpet next to a blue train track, helplessly trying to save Thomas and Percy from being "crashed" by Skarloey and Bill (2 really useful engines). Skarloey and Bill spent an awful lot of their holiday weekend in Time Out, for pushing their engine friends. At AJ's direction, we replayed this scenario oh-i-don't-know-a-hundred times, me being the wise, omnipresent Voice who had to give the offenders A Talk after they committed their wrongs.

(Wonder if last week's Time Out discussion has given AJ this impression of me?? Heh.)

That plus a few loads of laundry, a few restaurant meals, and one movie night I actually stayed awake for, and we arrived at Tuesday. Holiday over. It was nice overall. Dear Husband suggested that I take it easy, since, in fact, I might be more tired this pregnancy than the last (y'think), so I tried my best to take him up on that. :) Oh, and we did go out for ice cream Sunday afternoon (swooooon).

We intended to get a closet cleaned out and that didn't happen. However, most of our 900 CDs have been installed in CD binders and their jewel cases disposed of. Even my Broadway musicals DH had never heard of, like Godspell (wha-a? never heard of?) and Sunday in the Park with George. We've been meaning to do this for ages. That's three CD bookshelves that will no longer take up space in the guest room/AJ's room.

That's what we parents DO for 'play' I guess -- reorganize. Or, let me rephrase, that's what my husband does. In the span of a week, he's single-handedly reorg'ed the master bath vanity, the CDs, and one of my kitchen cabinets, and I'm super-grateful for all of it. I would bumble around in completely organized Chaos (read: everything stuffed away, but godhelpya if you open a drawer!) if it were just up to me.

Man, is this the most boring thing you've ever read or what?!

Let me add a small funny that only my Mom and Sis will get: On Saturday, AJ called to me from across the room, "Mama? You're my poopy dommy mommy." (Hint: Awwwwww.)

Oh also! I went to try on the bridesmaid dress for DH's brother's upcoming wedding. Want to see how ridiculous it was? Here is the top:


and here is the skirt:


HAHAHAHA! I will be Eight. Months. Pregnant. She knew this when she picked it out (for her New Year's Eve wedding, Eyeroll.) I'm no bridesmaidzilla, but can assure you I will not be wearing a cropped strapless top. Or a poofy Gone with the Wind prom skirt. HA!

(Thankfully the bride and I worked it out.)

Discipline is fun

We've been having... oh, not trouble, really, but some adjustment... in AJ's new 3-year-old classroom. He's been sent to Time-Out at school 3 of the last 4 school days, something which he's NEVER experienced at daycare, to my knowledge. Not that they didn't have Time-Out until now, he's just always been The Good Kid in the class.

In fact, the assistant director's favorite thing to tell me these last 6 months or so has been, "I can go into his classroom at any time (to make an announcement, retrieve a child who's sick, etc), and AJ is ALWAYS doing the right thing." He has sat on his mat when the teacher asks. He's been first in line when she said, "Line up." He's cleaned up. That sort of thing.

[NOT that I'm trying to brag about my (adorable, well-behaved, natural genius) kid or anything. Because that would be a little too-too, wouldn't it?]

Anyway, it seems that he is being influenced by some of the other kids in his class -- and again, I only say that because his teacher tells it to me with confidence: that AJ is a good kid, but he's being a follower. Doing things like sassing back. Spitting. Or generally being a pain (not listening). So he has served some well-deserved Time-Outs.

I'm glad she's communicating with me, and of course glad she's disciplining him. I'm even glad he's testing that water a bit: How's he going to learn what the wrong behavior is, and what happens as a result, if he doesn't engage in it once or twice? What's hard is knowing how to deal with it ourselves, once he comes home. The first few times, of course, we just Talked about it, and tried to encourage him to Do the Right Thing. He'd nod his little head, "I unnerstand yoo, Mama." But on Monday when we learned of another schooltime transgression, we got stern. We told him any more Time-Outs this week, and no more TV. GRAVE CONSEQUENCE.

Well, Tuesday it seemed to work. I think we even reinforced the idea Wednesday morning (I'm sure we told him to be a good boy and listen to his teachers)... but Wednesday was another Time-Out day. When I put him in the car at 5:00, he said nonchalantly, "I want to watch Diego when we get home." And I calmly reminded him of our deal. Slowly, his mind processed that.... and he crumbled into the most pitiful, sad state of realization that, "Oh my goodness, *I* did this to myself..." (At least that's what it looked like, to me. Like he knew, and was saddened that the consequence was happening as promised.) It was equally heartbreaking for me and very satisfying. He cried most of the way home.

(He was fine, of course, when we got here. Did you know fun is possible, even without the TV? I know! It's pretty amazing. Hello, this whole thing might be worth that lesson right there.)

I'm not sure if we're doing the Right Thing with this -- if he were home and had a Time Out, I'd consider the crime paid for, and move on, so shouldn't his school Time Out count for something? -- but I feel like we need to inform him that bad behavior in school is not acceptable.

Seems like heavy stuff! And he's only 3.

brown & turquoise, and a new bag

The color combo of brown & turquoise is SO SMART. I mean 'smart' like the British say, "You look smart in that outfit." I was glad a few years ago when those two colors started being showcased in fashion, graphic design, everywhere.

So, Musings of a Housewife (Very Smart blog design) is giving away something that makes my heart SING because it is so Smart! This gorgeous Eliza Grace bag. I LUH-HU-HUV new bags.

Go, go quickly and sign yourself up. It's free! I'm smart! I'll be smarter when I win!

Oh, and thanks to 4andcounting for the generous tip!

Some things about this morning

I resisted the Thomas' English muffin aisle at Publix, even though I knew I only had one more in the fridge at home. I said, "Self, there are two loaves of bread at home (one in the freezer), you do NOT need English muffins, too, y'greedy spendthrift. You'll eat peanut butter toast and it'll be fine. Lovely, even." ...So this morning I was sad, sad, sad as I toasted the l a s t muffin and ate it with cream cheese.


My tomato plants, which I have tried mightily to kill dead with all this heat and forgetting to water them, are producing more fruit! So far of three plants, I've had two tomatoes, each about 1.5 inches in diameter. I was resigned to accept this as a moderate success and just concentrate on next year, and what I could do differently. This morning I went out to the porch and sat there looking pitifully at the plants, when what to my wondering eyes... two little green buds. I will love you and pet you call you George! And use plant food. Maybe there's hope for more fresh salsa, yet.


I turned down a job opportunity this morning via email. Not just from the freelance writing website that emails me every day ("HEY YOU! Write for Never-Heard-Of-It magazine and earn thousands!"), but from an actual person, a professional contact, someone I like and admire, for a job that I've said might be the perfect job for me, in the past. It was at a school, a private one, where I could have had a better commute and school-ish hours (it was a staff position, not faculty)... but I'm not sure I would have felt entirely comfortable there. I didn't even interview for the job, but I don't think right now is a good time to be starting a whole new career direction, with the baby coming and all. And I didn't want them to think I was interested, when I knew I wasn't. It was a career that would have required me to CARE, and GIVE 110%, and all that. And I don't really feel like that kind of a (new) career right now. (Of COURSE I give 110% at my CURRENT job. Of course! But I already KNOW that job.) I feel GOOD about the decision, but still kinda bad about shunning something that fell right into my lap. I'm waiting to hear back from my contact. Refresh, refresh, refresh goes my email window.


In the mornings I try really hard to read my work email first. There's usually nothing. Then I'll open up the feed reader and give myself 15 minutes. Then I spend about 30 minutes saying, "Just one more post. Okay. I'll just read this LAST one." It's possibly an addiction. (110% I said.)


On AJ-cam, all the kids are lined up sitting on their masking-tape names, listening to their teacher. The camera is at such an angle where I can see mostly carpet -- all clean, not a toy out of place. I think it's funny that in an hour, there will be Legos and animals all over the floor in different "centers," when they dump out the bins to play. I think it's funny because it isn't MY floor. :)

Don't know what to do

I just read this post by sandblower, and it is really beautifully written. I admire her for her persistence. But it gave me more anxiety than I care to admit, because it reminded me that I have a decision to make.

I was mostly ambivalent about breastfeeding vs. formula before AJ was born, but I figured I might as well try -- after all, women had nursed their babies for thousands of years, how hard could it be? If they can do it, I can do it. I couldn't have been more wrong. Oh, I feigned confidence during the hospital stay, faithfully attempting to nurse every 3 hours and meeting with the lactation consultants once or twice -- my doctor even called me "Mother Earth" when she came to discharge us and AJ was latched on, so easy I made it seem. But it was all an illusion.

I don't have any desire to re-live our first night home from the hospital but suffice to say: no milk. Thank goodness we had a can of formula in the pantry, that someone had given us. (And now I give one in my baby shower gifts, marked just in case.) Even 2 days later, after pumping with my hand-pump, draining that can of formula, seeing the pediatrician and being told AJ had lost more weight (OUNCES off his 6 lb, 7 ox birthweight! I was so nervous), meeting with yet another lactation consultant... who must have been having a bad day at the office, by the way...

It just didn't work for us. I did the very best I could, supplemented with that thing you tape to your shoulder, pumped with a rented pump on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night only to produce 2 ounces... I gave up after 2, maybe 3 weeks. And I was SO RELIEVED and actually started living again. I stopped dreading the third hour. I stopped crying so damn much.

I never did feel comfortable as a nursing mother anyway. Didn't know if the awkwardness of undressing in public, or even in front of my dad in my own home, would ever dissipate and feel 'normal.' And I never did get to find out.


SO. What do I do THIS time? My brain tells me, "Take a deep breath and try again. Maybe your body will know what to do this time. Maybe this child will latch more naturally." And, "Now you KNOW what to expect, you KNOW it's hard. Maybe this time you'll try harder (won't be so proud?) to find a consultant you can rely on, or a neighbor or friend."

But my heart begs, "Please, PLEASE let's not go through that sad, terrible time again."

Help me, Internet-wan. What's your advice? What do you do, the 2nd time around? Go with what you know, or be brave and hope for the best? Anyone have an experience like mine and then, another baby?

Yum.

Cracked Black Pepper & Olive Oil Triscuits (thank you, MB)

PLUS

Pimento Cheese.


I think this is becoming a snack blog.

A drop in the ocean

Sunday we woke up and served breakfast to our weekend guests right before they left to head home. I was a little bit glad they had an afternoon commitment because it left us some time to just be a family, which is what I need on the weekends -- time together. To recharge. To juice up on what's good. :)

In a rare chance, DH turned on the CD player and we got to listen to some of our music instead of silence, or Go, Diego, Go (flavor of the month), or the screaming fits of a toddler. The Toddler was happily engaged in Thomas the Tank Engine and his new friends Bill and Skarloey Engine. So when I heard the first few notes of "Yahweh" by U2, I wandered into the kitchen were DH was cleaning up breakfast. I love that song. (I usually don't enjoy when bloggers post song lyrics. It kind-of makes me cringe. So I apologize to anyone who feels the same, but this time it's for me.)

Take these shoes
Click clacking down some dead end street
Take these shoes
And make them fit
Take this shirt
Polyester white trash made in nowhere
Take this shirt
And make it clean, clean
Take this soul
Stranded in some skin and bones
Take this soul
And make it sing

I walked over for a hug, and it turned into a dance. We both needed a little moment together, I guess. We have always danced in the kitchen. This time, with my belly stretching in between us like a beach ball already. We laughed about that and DH adjusted his hips wayyy back in jest.

Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn

Take these hands
Teach them what to carry
Take these hands
Don't make a fist no
Take this mouth
So quick to criticize
Take this mouth
Give it a kiss

Next thing we knew, AJ followed the sound of the song and held his hands up baby-style, with a little pout saying he wanted to dance with us, too. I argued in my mind for one second about picking him up since he is over the recommended 30 pounds (barely over), but then of course, couldn't resist. We held him together. And there was a family hug and top-of-head-kissing all around. And Napoleon even danced 4-legg-ed behind us, wishing he could be held, too.

Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn

Still waiting for the dawn, the sun is coming up
The sun is coming up on the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean...

It was all a little too much for this hormonal, weepy girl and I cried a little for the bliss of that sweet Sabbath moment. The magnitude of our crystal 'drop in the ocean' overwhelmed me.

Yahweh, Yahweh...
Take this heart
Take this heart
Take this heart
And let it break

Things I want - air quotes - for the baby

It's kind of a LOT more fun to be thinking about the baby registry this time around, because I'm not so freaked out about "what do we NEED OMG to care for an entire BABY?!?" I, of course, don't really need an excuse to be MORE selfish, but I do need an excuse to visit Babies R Us. Because once you're in that club, you're IN. YOu're Loyal. You WANT to go there. But I've felt silly going there with my three-year-old. Not a baby!

So anyway, there are a few things I didn't do right the first time around, and since I'm pretty sure this is my last chance, I want to be sure and have:

> A new diaper bag. I had two for AJ's babyhood and didn't really like either one. The first was black and felt like a suitcase (too big) and the 2nd felt like a really nerdy, ugly purse (navy, and too small). Neither had pizazz. This time, I want pizazz. And I want outside pocket options.

>A varsity serious baby-carrier or sling or something. Mine was el cheapo (a gift) and everyone hated it: Me, Daddy, and Baby AJ. I've read all the recommendations on the mommy blogs and I still can't decide what to get.

> Depending on the gender, new crib sheets. Even if it's another boy, I'm kinda sick of our crib sheets. How stupid, I know. I also never got the Ultimate Crib Sheet and I WILL, this time. It's supposed to work miracles. Of course when you start talking baby bedding (and girl-babies because seriously, if it's a boy I know deep in my heart there's nothing new coming in this house), you start looking at gorgeous things like this, and this, and OMG, this. None of which are within budget. PBKids?! What am I doing? :)

> I VOWED not to use our Avent bottles again, because they leaked so annoyingly when I twisted them closed too tightly. But I've since heard that practically all bottles do that. So maybe I want new bottles, and maybe not. Then I've also been receiving that annoying plastic-leaches-cancerous-chemicals email, and even though I checked it out and it's not really true, I have sorta worried about that because guess what: I ALWAYS microwaved AJ's plastic bottles. Lay-zee, that's my reason. Sue me.

>So this time I think I want a counter-top bottle warmer, however frivolous that seems.

>And I also want a wipes warmer. Again, completely unnecessary! But this baby's going to be born in the dead of winter, and his/her room is the coldest in the house, and I don't want anyone's precious widdle boddom to be shocked with the cold of a Huggies Natural Care in the middle of the night, for Heaven's sake.

>I can't decide about Diaper Champ. We've used just a plain diaper pail, scented trash bags (same ones we use in the kitchen, which is convenient), and Lysol. But it still sometimes gets stinky in the nursery. We of course received 2 Diaper Genies when AJ was born, but the first one broke during our attempt to set it up, and after that, the 2nd one was regifted. Hate.

>SDW: do you like your swaddling blanket? I know, *I* gave one to you, but no offense will be taken if it's not the greatest product (I mean, YOU registered for it after all): Is it any good?

So fun to shop!

I *must* vacuum today

(here comes your quintessential mommyblogger post...)

We are drowning in tufts of Napoleon hair. It's end of summer -- shedding season. Nap had a bath this past weekend and as much as I LOVE how soft he is after a bath, the week after is a bit miserable. It's one big Fur Festival. We figure he needs a day or two (at least) to roll around on every available surface and finish shedding, plus we're too busy to vacuum twice a day every day, which is what the place really needs, so we just put it off. Tuesday I made the grave mistake of picking up a pretzel I had dropped -- usually I leave every dropped food item on the floor for him, but I don't know, Tuesday I was hungry I guess -- popped it back into my maw and got a mouthful of hair. Pbbllt! Pbblt! Spit! Wipe tongue with napkin! That was gross.

I feel like we'll never be as "on top of" the housecleaning as we'd like to be. Before he married me, DH used to clean his apartment FAITHFULLY every week. Granted, it was only 1 bedroom, but still. I feel I've robbed him of that cleanliness in a way, especially after having AJ. We just can't keep up. I guess our pattern lately is that we clean either bathrooms or do the vacuuming/dusting every other week on odd weeks. Meaning, we don't do the two on the same week. Except it's not exactly true, and we don't ever "schedule" a good kitchen scouring or mopping the hardwoods. Sigh. I'm glad we can at least keep the clutter straightened up for the most part. I try, with clutter. I don't always succeed.

(And Hubby, if you're reading this, please don't come home and start cleaning top to bottom. I do not mean for this to be a cry for help, or a 'you dooo it" whine fest.)

Don't anybody suggest the FlyLady. I've seen her stuff; I tried it a little. Her catering to SAHMs turned me off a bit and then her goofballness turned me off the rest of the way. It's a nice idea but.

I don't think I could ever hire a housecleaning service. I mean, I COULD but the guilt of expense would probably get to me. I know that's one of the things that working-parent-advice-columnists always suggest to relieve stress, but I don't know. It would feel, to me, a little like we were trying to live an Uptown life with downtown money.

For me, as long as there isn't obvious filth or grime (which is why I scrubbed toilets last night at 9:00) we're doing okay. Right? Tell me that's right.

The hardest-won victories are sweetest

I MADE THE COOKIES!!

Here's the riveting play by play:

(Had to postpone baking over the weekend, due to a stupid cold.)

Almost panicked AGAIN at Publix today: Peppermint Extract was hidden behind Orange.

Was a maniacal fool (actually laughed out loud, all crazy-like) for the Mise en Place.

Baked during the work-from-home day, and don't feel bad about it.

(Okay, maybe a little bad.)

Laughed out loud again when I smelled the batter. Pitied myself because of being pregnant and unable to lick the beaters or the bowl.

Grimaced when cookies fell flat immediately upon removal from oven, but am not a baking expert, and decided if they taste good I likely won't care.

Grimaced again when first batch was halfway uncooked after 8 minutes in oven. Put 'em back in and hoped for the best.

Tasted a sample. Continued tasting 4 or 6 samples.

Sang the Hallelujah Chorus and wept, then fell over dead with JOY.


I will now cease hijacking Swistle's topic. It's just that I never really HAD a major craving with my first pregnancy and this is honest-to-Pete A. Craving. It's been very odd for me. I've been drinking Peppermint Hot Chocolate and nothing else on my Wednesday Starbuck's drive-thru, been making same at home despite the heat, just have lived for mint-chocolate. These cookies spoke to me when I first learned of their existence. Maybe the baby will be named Mint Chocolate, who knows.

Letters from the edge

Dear Sinuses:

We have never really gotten along and today I just want to say: I hate you.

Love,
el-e-e

- - - - - - - - - -

Dear 85-Degree Overnight Outdoor Temperature:

We need to talk. You are out of bounds and I'm starting to have a real problem with you. I especially hate that you make my AC run ALL NIGHT LONG, so that I can HEAR money being sucked right out of my wallet. These nights, it never stops for a little QUIET time while I'm trying to sleep. One other thing: You're compounding my current problem with the Sinuses, which is an actual head-cold and isn't helped by having dry mouth and lips and a foggy head, due to the aforementioned AC.

Piss on ya,
el-e-e

- - - - - - - - - -

Dear 25-year-old AC Unit:

You blow (but I'm in no mood for jokes). Also, your friend the metal Vent cover? The one who clicked all night with your constant blowing? click click click click click... Not happy with that either. You can pass that on.

Later.

p.s. Don't die, by the way. I still need you.

- - - - - - - - - -

Dear Baby:

Now, sweetie, you are entirely too young to be giving Mama this much trouble. I know you're growing and everything, and you need me to sleep on the left side for optimal circulation, but here's the deal: Mama needs her rest. So get comfortable and quit making me flop over and over. Like I said, you're much, MUCH too young for this. This next three months of gestation is supposed to be the blissful part. So work on that for me, okay? I'll give you cookies if you do.

Seriously.
Love,
Mama

- - - - - - - - - -

Dear Boss:

Not feelin' it today. A little tired. Sorry.

Best,
el-e-e

Unrelated topics: obsession and God

*Edited: I suppose it's a shame, my title. The two really are unrelated in this post, though.

DUDES. The fates are working against me. There are no mint chocolate chips anywhere in this city or even online. "Those are a seasonal item, Ma'am," said the customer service man at Kroger. (Yeah. I called.) "Hahahahahahaha, surely you jest?" said the baking aisle at Publix. I looked here, there, and everywhere that seemed half-logical from a big ol' Google search. Even Cost Plus World Market had Green MINT Chips, but no Mint-Chocolate Chips.

I just don't think it's very funny, you retailers, messing with a pregnant woman like this. Not very funny A-TALL. I'm kind-of obsessed with the idea of mint-chocolate-brownie goodness in a cookie, now. Last night we went to Applebee's and I had their brownie-ice-cream sundae thing. It helped a little. (The plate was the size of my kitchen sink, by the way. ggggggggggggggwarmchocolate....)


Last night: "Who's God, Mommy?"

Hooooo, boy. Well. When we had him baptised, I guess we promised we'd be his first teachers of all things spiritual, so we can't deflect this one ("Hey, let's read DORA!"), we really have to try. So I said, "Well, when we say our prayers and go to church we're talking to God. God lives up in the sky... (??!?) I mean, in Heaven. And he made EVERYTHING. He made you, and Mommy, and Daddy..."

"And Grandmommy too?"

DH jumped in: "Yes, Grandmommy and (insert long list of all our relatives here), and even the trees and grass and the sky."

"Oh."

Somehow I forgot the part about "...and He loves you," but maybe we'll save that for the next lesson. :)

Buddha!

I am sitting here on teh couch, under my favorite blanket, avec laptop and proofreading assignment, and DAMN. There is an actual, round belly in between me and teh Mac! I can RUB it and everything!

Hello, Baby.


(teh teh teh the thete thet the the e teh cannot. type.)

Reunion

I think all of my conference calls for this week -- which, no matter how many I do, no matter how chummy I feel with a particular client, always make me stress out just a little bit -- and I feel like I can finally relax a bit. [today's work rant:] I'm grateful for getting to use my mind at my job, and grateful that I'm not at home with AJ right now because we'd be playing Cariboo, I just know it, and I am not sure I can swallow ONE MORE GAME of that game... but sheesh. Other times I really WISH I was doing mindless data entry somewhere, or wiping someone else's kid's behind at a daycare job, instead of figuring percentages of success rates of direct mail campaigns (kill me) or wondering if this client's .asp registration form is going to hook up correctly with to our blah-de-tech-speak server config. [end. rant.]

So, the Hubby's high school reunion, surprisingly, was fun even for me. I don't know if I was just looking forward to a date night, or if being "on his arm," in a new outfit, in downtown beautiful Savannah made me feel loved and happy, but he was proud of me and I was proud of him, and all his classmates seemed to be super-decent people. I felt sorry for the one guy who was clearly the "uncool" kid during high school. He and he wife sort-of stood out from everyone else, a little bit ungainly and odd, and for a while Hubby and I both felt protective of them, like we wanted to make sure people were talking with them. We did for a good long while, and for the most part, other people did too. I worried when they were the first couple to leave, although I remember now they said their 12-year-old daughter was alone at home for the first time; it probably had nothing to do with feeling ignored. They had their own thing going on.

That's really the thing, twenty years after you've graduated -- not that I know, since I still have 5 years until that milestone myself, but my observation was that almost everyone had married and had babies, or else gone on with healthy careers and other friends. Their own lives. Their own stories. Absolutely no need for validation from the 88 folks also occupying the party room. There was less competition and more just... reconnecting on this new, mortgage-carrying, gray-hair-displaying level. I sensed that most people were at peace with who they were then, and who they are now, and who cares about all the other stupid water under the bridge.

DH says he was not "popular" in his class, although he certainly had friends. It was fun to meet someone and immediately ask him, "Okay, who was she in high school? Cheerleader? Nice? Snotty?" Several people, he said, never gave him the time of day back then, but were pretty normal now.

We visited the school, too, which was a trip down memory lane for both of us. Marybeth: Picture a school gym, darkened, bleachers pushed back, dust mop propped over to the side with remnants of spring's last janitorial cleaning -- corner doors ajar because LORDY, it's HOT in the gym when the central AC's not on.... What do you think of?

Summer cheerleading practice, right? Crazy. I walked right into my own life, albeit 2 states and 17 years away. The gym was empty when we arrived but I could almost smell the hairspray we used to wear (Aussie) and hear our coach shouting commands. I guess high school's much the same everywhere.

GratiTude-sday

1. Yesterday at Publix I said, "TO HECK with fat-free creamer," and bought regular, flavored, Cinnamon Hazelnut. I am grateful this morning for that moment of genius. Why fat-free? I am getting fatter right now, as we speak!

2. While at Publix, I became very dismayed that they did not, in fact, carry, mint chocolate chips, so I could not try this incredible-sounding recipe. But my arteries, I think, are quite grateful. And you better believe I will be takin' it to Kroger as soon as possible. I am on a HUNT now.

3. So far, a wee cough in AJ's throat has not blown into something larger, nor gotten him sent home from daycare. I am thankful for that because if he got sent home, I'm not sure what I would DO with him all day; it is too fricking hot to play outside for longer than 45 seconds and you can only take so many Go Fish games before you lose your sanity. I am also thankful that my mother-in-law bought him some Robitussin while we were busy at the reunion picnic last Saturday.

4. Fish tacos for lunch today. As we do every Tuesday. And yet I don't get sick of them.

5. Okay, I know this seems like a REALLY shallow list of things to be grateful for, but I didn't want to bowl y'all over with sappiness, and be 5-bullets thankful for mah growing baby, the size of a lime, and mah perfect husband who's so understanding and patient with my tired and useless self all the time lately, and mah perfect son who this morning, on the way into school, let me carry him and said "Y'know what? ....Ah wuv you, mama." Because that would just be TOO much.

It's fuzzy, but it's still an award!

I am so honored that my friend at 4andcounting passed this lovely award to ME! Li'l ol' me! Thanks so much. (She said I was funny! Hee!) I'm anxious to go visit her other 4 nominees, as well. I like reflecting. In fact, I wish my blog included more of that but it seems the daily stuff is easier to write when you're in a dash, like I usually am.

Like any good blog award, the rules state I am to bestow this gift on 5 more bloggers who are reflective. Or, who make me reflect. Something like that. Happy to! Here they are, in no particular order.

Indigo Girl is a longtime read of mine, and I still love her style. Now SHE can take the "daily stuff" and really make it shine, somehow. I wish I were as good as that, but I think what makes hers good is that it's so perfectly clear and honest. There's nothing fabricated, it doesn't even read like it's "composed;" she just writes what's on her mind. Her third baby is due soon now and I can't wait! She's going to have 2 wonderful little assistants to get her through it. :)

Et-tu, Jen, is becoming one of my daily reads because her perspective as a very new Christian (and former atheist) is quite interesting. Also, I like that she's a regular person who admits her imperfections and laughs about her struggles. If you want a good theology post, read through Jen's archives. She's awesome.

I've always liked poetry, and Sunday School Rebel writes prose the way I like to read poetry. Oh, she writes actual poetry, too, if you're into that. I could read her all day. These days she's reflecting on mothering baby Thomas, who's most assuredly a Keeper.

I'm liking Mighty Maggie lately, too. I found her through Arwen, who deserves a spot on this list, too. Maggie's a new-ish mommy to the adorable Jack, and her Catholic sensibilities are much like mine, I think. I loved the other day, she was talking about indulgences, and quoted her mom as saying the Church takes away all the "funny stuff." Hee. Healthy respect for Tradition, plus a sense of humor: those are the keys to understanding one's own cradle-Catholicism, I think.

If I were a teacher (perish the thought), I would want to be just like Some Pig. She is charming and funny, and uber-smart. And naturally she doesn't take any crap from students. Her song-title posts have been brilliant lately! How does one keep coming up with such cleverness? Me likey. You win.

happy reading! (More on our trip to the Hubby's high school reunion later!) *Dash*

Telling

Something about this 2nd pregnancy has me all juiced up to tell perfect strangers The News. I was in Talbot's the other day, buying what was left useful to me there -- one very wide-bottomed linen tank and one long summer sweater with cap sleeves that I adore -- and upon checkout I just HAD to say that I really loved their pretty fall dresses, and was so sad I couldn't buy one... *low tone:* Since I'm about 12 weeks pregnant...*pretty smile* Of course, you know the ladies who work at Talbot's. She was very congratulatory in a non-emotional, It's A Classic kind of way.

Then when I got my haircut Monday at Great Clips -- desperate as I was, with DH's 20-year high school reunion this weekend and all, and not wanting to look shaggy -- I told the perfect stranger of a "stylist." Because that's just the kind of thing you discuss with your stylist. Juicy, interesting personal news, you know?

So it bugs me that I'm stymied every time I think it's time to tell my manager. Who I talk to every day. Ridiculous.

Fine, then

Bought more itty-boy underwear (SO. CUTE. ON HIS WIDDLE. BODDOM). Target had Diego, which made someone I know VERY happy. They sadly did not have Sponge Bob in his size, however. Also, a decision has been made by me: we will wear underwear in school (and continue doing GREAT! keeping it dry all day). When we get home, we will put on a PullUp, because someone I know still can't fathom pooping in the potty, even though he did it once last week with great success. And someone gets really upset when he has accidents. Small steps are fine with me.

(Part of the reason I'm anxious is SCHOOL, obviously. In the 3-year-old class, they're supposed to be trained, see. It's not just me, hurrying him for the sake of hurrying. But whatever. If he's doing fine AT school, that's all they need to know.)

And that concludes my talking about the potty. I swear.

Let's talk about the POWER of PRETEND. Last night, ohmyheavenlyDAYS we were having an off night about the bath! AJ was not pleased about having to take one. He was fine right up until time to get undressed, then all of a sudden, not pleased. I hate forcing him into the bath, or to do anything, really, when he's having a fit. SO! I took a little lesson from this book*, and probably countless others, and PRETENDED that Miss Green Dolphin, one of our bathtime friends, was hoping AJ would get in the tub and play with her. She whispered to me, about AJ, and I responded to her that "Yes, AJ was kinda sad tonight." When she cooed in her (my) high-pitched little coo-y voice, someone couldn't help but quiet down to see what she was saying about him. Ahhh, I gotcha, kiddo! Miss Dolphin then offered AJ a little kiss on the cheek. He fell all over her! Why, AJ would be HAPPY to bathe you, Miss Green Dolphin! And den we will go wimming, would dat be fun?

And the heavens opened and angels sang, and bathtime was delightful.

*Let me just say for the record that I think the majority of the ideas in this particular book are kiiiinda wacky. However! I bought it during a week of hellish daily tantrums, and if this one gem of an idea has worked one time? Probably worth the $9.99.