Last Post o' the Year

Well, apparently, the Pea just loves it when Bill and I leave the premises. We went out for a date night (The Curious Case of Benjamin Button = Decent Flick) and while we were gone, the Pea went into hysterical laughing fits at my dad. Side-splitting, gasping-for-air laughter. When I called mid-date to check on him (yeah, I'm that person), Dad said that he was "enchanted" by the Pea. I think that is officially the first time that I have ever heard my Dad use the word "enchanted". And then, Mom and Dad threatened to take him with them back to Arizona tomorrow.

Oh, and the Pea had a well-baby check-up this morning. He's doing great! He's stayed right on the 50th percentile in weight (97th in height!) from his most recent weight check so...yay.

Where's the Beef?

The Pea and I went with my parents and little sister to visit my two paternal aunts & uncles and my cousin, his wife, and two kiddos.  A good time was had by all.

My Aunt Carolyn and I got on the topic of conversation of feeding babies.  She told me that when she went to her two week appointment for my oldest cousin ("when" being 45 years ago), the doctor told her to start him on rice cereal immediately.  She then proceeded to tell me how she had her son eating meats by the end of the first month or so.

After I wiped the look of horror off my face, this is what I said:
"Wow...now they tell most people to wait until around 6 months to start solids.  Then, after rice cereal, start with veggies, then fruits, and eventually meat."

What my Aunt Carolyn heard:
"Wow...now they tell most people to wait until around 6 months to start solids. Then, after rice cereal, start with veggies, then fruits, and then chili meat."


Hee hee hee.

Hello, my name is...

Well, I've been contemplating a blog name change for awhile, and my father's comment a couple days ago of "you probably get some unsavory sorts on your blog [desperately seeking sudafed]...like people researching how to make crank" sealed the deal.  (And, yes, my dad actually said "make crank".)  The Sudafed was an homage to my constant battle with all problems allergy-related, but after getting weekly allergy shots for a year straight a couple years ago, I really haven't had problems with them lately.  As much.

And so I give you "The Snarkington Post", where all things sassy shall be celebrated.

Oh, and a Pea shot just to help you get over the post-Christmas blues and because you've been so good:

Hooray, Hoorah!

All my family is here! I probably won't blog much in the next week or so, but big changes are coming to this here blog come the New Year. And now that you're trembling with excitement, I bid you adieu for now...

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas from Karen & Bill & the Pea!

Aunt Sara got here safely last night (four hours late at the wrong airport without her luggage, but here). Pea pictures should be improving in quality and quantity very shortly. Huzzah!

I Cry Over Spilt Milk.

Ummm...yeah...so when you have to fight for every half oz. that you can pump out of the old tata's for the child that's plummeted from the 90th percentile on the growth charts to 45th in a matter of 6 weeks, you do indeed get a little misty-eyed when you wake up in the morning and you forgot to take the pump parts off the tops of the storage containers to seal them up and said milk is spilled all over the yogurt containers and queso jar. And, yes, I realize that there was absolutely nothing grammatically correct about that sentence.

The sad thing is that the amount that was spilled (spilt?) wouldn't be enough to trouble most lactating women, at least those who have a normal supply. It was just overwhelming to wake up to Lac St. Leche knowing that I couldn't just pump an extra bottle here or there because I already pump after every. single. feeding.


On a completely unrelated note, one of my favorite bloggy things to do is go to my sitemeter and see which countries my visitors have come from. Of course, something like 96% are from the U.S., and I have a few Canadian visitors (Hi, Hillary!) But these were the countries that fascinate me...India, Singapore, and the U.K. So India is perhaps my cousin and his wife. Singapore might be Thanga or Li-Ern (some friends from college). The United Kingdom...??? Inquiring minds want to know!! I'm so curious now. How does one end up on my Captain Random blog from India if one is not my cousin?

The Party at Which I Reveal that I'm a Big Nerd and A.J. and Jon Reveal that They are Not

So we had our church small group's Christmas party last night. Fun was had by all (although that is the last time that I attempt to keep the Pea out that late...it was World War 3 trying to get him to sleep, 2 hours past his bedtime...I'm a horrible mother)

Anyhoo, we played boys vs. girls Catchphrase (if anyone is unfamiliar with this game, it's like a cross between Password and Hot Potato. Your team guesses the word your describing, and you pass on the little machine. Whichever team is stuck holding the little machine, the other team gets a point. If the other team can guess what you were describing, they get an extra point). Bill had the phrase "Nimbus 2000", and he described it (very well) as Harry Potter's broomstick. So I'm thinking "Nimbus 2000" or "Firebolt". And I'm just writhing to yell them out. He managed to get them to say "2000", so I'm now just squirming to yell "Nimbus 2000! Nimbus 2000!" Blank stares from absolutely every other person in the room. Time runs out, and Bill sighs and says, "It was Nimbus 2000," before I had a chance to yell it. "I KNEW THAT!" Bill sighs again and gave us the point because he knew that, yes, indeed, I did know that. So, yeah, I'm a big dork (and secretly a 14 year old girl).

But the funniest moment of the evening came when it was Jon's turn. I think this is better written out in dialogue form:

Jon: Okay, I think this guy was on Star Trek."

A.J.: Uhhh...David Spade!

Jon: No...

All the Other Guys: Leonard Nimoy, William Shatner, Spock, Captain Picard, ???

The word was "Alex Trebek".

To his defense, A.J. said that he just yelled the first name that came to his mind. I'm not sure that Jon has a good defense on this one.

Shark Jumpin' Friday

I decided to change my "jump the shark" posts to Fridays.

And I believe that this story is proof that, yes, indeed, your Chuck E. Cheese franchise has jumped the shark when you have to install metal detectors at the door, and the biker bar down the street doesn't.




On a completely unrelated note...
Overheard in my head yesterday at Wal-Mart:
"I'm sure that the Great Value sausage biscuits are just as good as the Jimmy Dean ones that I normally buy."

Overheard from my mouth this morning:
"Not as good!  Not as good!"

So I'm Curious...

What is your most direct link to a celebrity?

Mine would be a tie between my sister dating Jennifer Garner's cousin in high school and a friend of mine's father being Ed Harris's cousin.


ETA:  I thought of a more direct link than even those.  Bill's Nana (who I claim with full Nana status) is friends with Jimmy Carter.  She even kicked his heiny in high school in a writing competition.

A Bed, A Bed, My Kingdom For A Bed!

Seriously...I need some sleep. And I can't even blame it on the Pea. He's sleeping through (most of) the night. But then again, he also spends about half of his waking hours eating. And he's decided that he doesn't nap for more than 30 minutes at a time...most likely a sleep regression. So post-7:00 p.m. is the only time I have to focus on activities/chores that take longer than 20-30 minutes (i.e. everything but dishes or laundry). Well, and I've figured out how to feed him and e-mail at the same time. It's not pretty, and he gets distracted laughing at the computer screen, but it gets the job done.

But, nay, I'm not getting good sleep. I've gotten to sleep at 11:30 or midnight (shudder) for the last 3 nights. Still, I'll take this over getting up with him at midnight for the first time of the night any day.


Oh, and super shout-out to my little sister who is now a card-carrying genuine Twilight lolfan (and also, secretly, a 14 year-old girl)





And, ehh, a Pea webcam shot just because I like you and he's so cute:

It's Greek to Me!

I got an e-mail a few weeks ago from a professor at my Alma Mater inviting me to send a letter for another professor's retirement party. It was actually sent to an old e-mail address that I rarely check, so I didn't get the message until after the party, but here is what I would have written to Dr. Farthing (I should mention that I was quite the little straight A perfectionist in college...well, life):

Dear Dr. Farthing,
Thank you for being an interesting, eccentric, thoughtful, kind, and intelligent teacher. Your classes made me stop and think, and I enjoyed every one of them.

But the thing I most want to thank you for is my experience in Koine Greek. (For those of you who are unfamiliar with Koine Greek, this is New Testament or "Common" Greek, somewhat looked down upon by my friends who took Classical Greek or "Snobby" Greek as I prefer to call it). The class was a bit awkward for me at the time as it was just me and 3 other guys, one of whom I had dated (and broken up with) the year before (we set our schedules before I broke up with him, and we were both too stubborn to give up the class that was only offered every other year). I enjoyed the first trimester, and I did pretty well memorizing letters, basic words, and trying to talk you into including pronounciation of a dead language as a section of the final. And you almost went along with it because you indeed liked my pronounciation. But you fell for the protestations of the boys who sounded like they were coughing up cheeseburgers when they read the text aloud.

I'm sure that you remember your grading system as I doubt it has changed since that class. We could take the final as many times as we liked until we got the grade we wanted. That first trimester, I took the final and missed a few vocab questions the first time around. I went back to my dorm and reviewed. I walked away with an A the next day.

The second trimester kicked my heiny. Apparently, word order meant nothing to the New Testament Greeks. Ex and I were past the "civil" stage and on to the "snarky" stage (culminating a few years later when we ran into each other at a friend's wedding, and he called me a "punk"). I did not enjoy that trimester to say the least.

When I went in to take the final, I was the last one to leave (which is not usual for me). The other 2 guys gave me pats on the back as they left as if to say, "There, there, little greek-iot". You gave me a B-. A mercy B-. I was determined. I went back to my dorm and reviewed. When I came back the next day, I got a B. I was still determined. I went back to my dorm and reviewed. When I came back the next day, I got another B. And you said something to me that forever changed the way I look at a lot of things. You said, "Karen, in Greek, I think you're just a B student." You asked me not to take the Final again. I cried my eyes out.

The final trimester, I memorized the first chapter of I John in Greek and loved it. I went in to the Final, and when I walked into your office, you said, "a solid B performance". I didn't even bother sitting down to go over the test. I said, "See ya next fall!" and walked out smiling.

I wish I could tell you how many times I've looked at myself in the mirror since that day and said, "Karen, in ________, I think you're just a B student." And I can't tell you how happy that makes me.

Thanks--Karen

P.S. I still think you should have included a pronounciation section on the Final. Those boys had no scope of the imagination.

To Start Your Week Off On An Adorable Note...

I'm not sure why this shot cracks me up so much. I took it on the webcam when the Pea was about to call his grandparents. The incredibly messy desk in the background is, of course, mine:

This shot is pure Pea personality...our little suave/goofy baby, raising one eyebrow (wait, he has no eyebrows):

ETA: Can I just say how funny it is that the GoogleAd that's popped up right now is for "Eyebrow Restoration"...hee hee hee.

I Smell Like Vermont.

Apparently, fenugreek is used to flavor artificial maple syrup, and that is exactly what it tastes like (even through the capsule). Maple syrup. When I burp...maple syrup. And reading up on it, it can make your sweat and pee smell like maple syrup, too. Oh, and also the Pea. Maple syrup.

The Epic Battle of the (Not) Thrush 2: Electric Boogaloo

So...not thrush after all.

After all that, it turns out that I have Raynaud's Phenomenon. It is often misdiagnosed as thrush as it has very similar symptoms.  So after spending an obscene amount of money and effort trying to get rid of the yeast, it turns out that all it took was a heating pad and $3 bottle of Vitamin B6.  But the pain is gone, so hooray.  Turns out, sometimes, when you hear hooves pounding in the distance, you should think zebras.

But it would appear that my milk supply never recovered from the initial mastitis (and B6 is known to further deplete supply), so the next step in Adventures in Breastfeeding is attempting to increase that.  I'm crossing my fingers over fenugreek working.  The Pea just isn't gaining at the rate that he should.  Part of the problem (and I'm NOT complaining) is that he's just not fussing about not getting enough and he's sleeping so much at night that he really needs to get those calories in the day.  He's just so dang happy most of the time.  Seriously, he's just too adorable.  He makes baby pandas look like this in comparison.

Home Sweet Hotel

Wow. I'm so ready to be back in my own house.

The Pea seems to have finally figured out that I'm asking him to sleep in a travel crib (the HORROR!) To his defense, it's rather small, and when he rotates around, he gets stuck with his head and feet touching the sides.

And there are no words for how bad Sonny has been (well, no non-expletives). For example--he's not allowed on our couches or chairs. He knows this. This has been a rule since the very beginning. What is the first thing he does when he walked into the hotel room? He curls up on the sofa. Another example--this morning, I ran down to grab some continental breakfast, which has been quite excellent thank you very much, and when I got back to the room, I put my tray on the table and took the Pea back to the bedroom (thank goodness for suites!) for his nap. It took me approximately 3 minutes to put him down, and in that amount of time, Sonny crawled up onto the table and ate my sausage. The jerk! Methinks someone needs another tranquilizer today.

And I think the Pea's going as stir-crazy as I am. He spent most of yesterday afternoon yelling at me. Not like "I'm mad" or "I'm sad" or "I'm wet" or "I'm hungry". I don't know how I knew, but it was just very clearly "I'm bored".

At least tomorrow's check-out day. Then I just get to spend the weekend putting my house back together. :)

Tougher Than My Dog

So I was watching the news tonight (local news, I should specify), and one of the top stories was about this dog that was found in a small town in my area (of Arkansas). I perked up at the story because his name was Sonny just like my oh-so-brave doggy, but Sonny II would kick my dog's heiny.

Anyway, he was found in SmallTown, and when the vet who found him by the side of the road called the owner's # on Sonny II's collar, they discovered the dog had travelled from Chattanooga!! AND Sonny II had to have one of his legs amputated due to a GUNSHOT WOUND. What on earth happened to this dog???

Compare this to my dog's day: We're currently staying in a hotel due to having our floors re-done, and Sonny had to be doped today because he was so worked up over the change in scenery.

Shark Jumpin' Galore!

I think that JumpTheShark is one of the first/only internet crazes that I was an early adopter of. I read an article about it in some magazine in 1997 or 98, and I visited/voted on the site when there weren't that many shows. And I'd just like to point out that I believe they themselves have jumped the shark...oh, right about the time that someone added Jake and the Fat Man.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the origins of the "Jump the Shark" phenomenon, it refers to part 3 of the 3-part episode (which right there should give you a clue) of Happy Days which originally aired September 20, 1977 in which Fonzie literally (ski) jumps over shark-infested waters. Basically, there was nothing they could do after that episode to top themselves...took the cake...it peaked...went downhill...insert metaphor here ________. Happy Days went on to produce more than 100 episodes after that, but you get the gist.

And I'm kind of bored with debating which T.V. shows have jumped and why. The only two which haven't in my opinion (30 Rock and How I Met Your Mother) are the two shows I watch. Well, those and The Office, which repeatedly jumps every time they mess with our hearts with Jim & Pam, but I don't care. And some might argue that HIMYM (or him-yim as Bill and I refer to it) jumped after the second Robin Sparkles video, but I disagree.

But, nay, I am here to discuss a monumental, nationwide shark-jumping of a phenomenon. Which brings me to another internet fad...rickrolling. In case you're one of the 3 people in America who has not yet been rickrolled, here's a detailed explanation. In a nutshell, somebody (say, your little sister) e-mails you a link to check out (something like www dot adorablebabykittensandpuppies dot com or similar), but when you go to the actual link, it takes you to a video of Rick Astley singing "Never Gonna Give You Up". I'm probably not telling you anything new here.

But, HELLO!, did you watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade when ALL OF AMERICA and probably a good deal of Canada got rickrolled simultaneously?? One minute, I was watching some bizarre children's puppet show float that I will unfortunately probably be very well aquainted with in three years, the next minute, it was a rickroll of monumental proportions. Rick Astley LIVE!! And the parade producers didn't even insist that he use an updated track to lip sync to--it was his original recording. It made my day.

So I've decided that I love talking about Shark Jumpin' so much that I'm going to make it a regular feature of this here blog. Feel free to leave ideas for future shark rants. I'll pick an arbitrary day...hmmm...Shark Jumpin' Thursdays (but not this Thursday as I have limited internet access this week due to our floors being re-done...long story involving water damage from Hurricane Ike and culminating in me spending 8 hours a day locked up in a hotel room with an overtired baby and Sonny acting like a squirrel in a paper bag).

Really, Really Not a Geometry Whiz...

Thank you to Megan for pointing out that that would not be two 2X4's. Two 2X3's...no two 3X4's!!

Okay, seriously, I hated geometry.

Geometry Whiz...

I was always pretty good at math in school.  Okay, perhaps I'm downplaying that a bit.  I was one of those students who went and competed in MathCounts and the state Trig competition and such.

However, I always stunk at Geometry.  Not like bad grades stunk...I still got good grades in it, but I hated every minute of it.  Postulums and theorems and proofs...drawing countless cirles and triangles and angles and lines.  I knew that I didn't want to be an engineer or architect, so I didn't really see the point in any of it.

Until last night when I printed off umpteen thousand pictures of the Pea's announcements (and that's a whole other side story of why my child is over 3 months old and I'm just now getting around to sending out announcements. Let's just say that I learned my lesson in the old "I'll just make my own announcements" department.  Crafting is to be used strictly for recreation and gifts at this point.)  Turns out, dividing a 4X6 picture yields not two 2X3's but two 2X4's.  Sigh.  And duh.  So now, the project that WILL NOT END has become the project that WILL NOT END NEVER EVER NEVER NEVER EVER.

Must go and crop a few more pictures.

Cool Kids' Table

I feel like I'm in high school all over again (only with a 3 month old chewing on my arm).

So here's the deal:  I am an extrovert.  I need adult interaction.  Bill and I host a church small group (which we love), and I'm in a women's Bible Study (which I love).  But I would really enjoy having a circle of mom friends for informal get-togethers, playdates, etc.  A Mom's Group, if you will.

And there are many out there.

One of which I remember reading about while I was still pregnant.  It made an impression on me because (a) one of my friends was in it and was quoted in the article, (b) the women in it seemed genuinely tight-knit, and (c) they stressed that they valued "coolness" in their members...they actually used another word but I don't want to disparage the group.  I really appreciated their philosophy of not just being a mom's group, but a women's group--they really acknowledge the fact that you don't cease being an individual just because you have kids.  So they schedule things like girls' nights out sans kiddos.  In short, I'm more than just a pod for the pea.  I filed it away in the ol' noggin as "hmmm...remember this for after the pea bursts forth from said pod."

And today, I decided to look them up online.  And they are...closed/full.  Apparently, I should have submitted an application while still pregnant (I'm not kidding). 

So my question is this:  What would you do?  Wait around for an opening (stare longingly at the bench until a girl named Holly or Jennifer moves away then skootch in)?  Call my friend (Ashely ha, ha that's for you Sara) and see if she can get them to bend the rules and let me in?  Say "forget this, I'll make up my own group!" and then never get around to actually doing it?  Find another group to join?  Any suggestions of specific groups are appreciated if the latter is your vote.

The Tale of Emo Baby (or How I'm Losing the Epic Battle of the Thrush)

So there's a reason why it looks like my child has been in a bar brawl with a magic marker. And the hair...well, sometimes it gets brushed correctly after a bath, sometimes not.



When he was 4 weeks old (that being over 2 months ago), I had a wicked good case of mastitis. The doctor treated it with antibiotics, and my sugar-loving little body (now with milk!) let the candida albicans go wild. Thrush.

So I've tried pretty much everything to get rid of it:
-monistat
-diflucan (lots of it)
-vinegar rinses
-grapefruit seed extract
-garlic
-bleaching everything but the Pea
-changing nursing pads every other minute
-shirtless Thanksgiving '08
-cutting out sugar from my diet

and finally...
-gentian violet (hence the spawn of Pete Wentz above)

And I'm still losing the battle. And I've pretty much given up hope. My doctor, lactation consultant, and dermatologist have all given me the "awww shucks, this is beyond me" headscratch and don't know who to refer me to. The La Leche League friend that my sister introduced me to has been the only one who isn't shocked/disbelieving that the thrush is still hanging around, but I've now tried all of her treatment ideas to no avail. I'm even to the point that I question that it is thrush (although I don't know what else it could be). The Pea has never had any symptoms other than a slight diaper rash. I'm the only one who's symptomatic, and none of my treatment providers seem to give a hoot that it feels like I have knives lodged in my chest.

Oh, and I kind of want to simultaneously hug and punch Salma Hayek for this.

I Won, I Won, I Won, I Won, I Won

I won.

"Deranged" is in the Eye of the Beholder

So how much do I love these dueling celebrity mag sidebars? So fascinating from a psychological point-of-view. (Let me first say that the mags--Life & Style and In Touch Weekly--were found laying in the airport by my hubby, which says something about my secret shame of loving them that I touched and read them during cold & flu season.)

Also, I should add that I'm a Twilight fan (and secretly a 14 y/o girl).

Anyhoo!

It's the SAME picture. But I find it impossible to look at each picture without thinking, "Why, yes, he does look deranged," and "Hmmmm...yes, he is a sexy man." But if you cover up the captions, suddenly, he just looks bemused. And perhaps a little scared. Seriously, anyone who compares the screams of teenage girls to the "sound you hear at the gates of hell" is cool in my book.

And apparently, Angelina Jolie is pregnant again, officially making her the most fertile woman I've heard of in both the biobaby and adoption world.

And the Misnomer of the Year Award Goes To...

Lil' Pea = Not so Lil'. He shall henceforth just be known as "The Pea".

Yep, I pushed out just one oz. shy of a 10 pounder. And he's adorable. And sleeping well (errr...better). He's around 3 months old and cracking me up. He gave me his first belly laugh this morning, and it had me rolling. At first, I wasn't sure exactly what the child was doing...he sounded like a cross between Balki from Perfect Strangers and a baby bullfrog. It is delightful.

So, yes, I'm back to the blogworld (with a cute new template, might I add). I apologize for the weeping and gnashing of teeth that I'm sure was taking place during my hiatus.