Happy New Year from Bill, me, and the Pea

May Your New Year Be Filled with Peace and Blessings!

Oh, Come On!

What I've been trying to feed the Pea for dinner:  buttered corn

What you would THINK I've been trying to feed the Pea judging by his tongue-sticking-out-gagging-bleching theatrics:  poop-flavored poison pellets

Quick Pea Pic

My friend Amy got this beautiful fall shot. I can't wait to see all her pictures! If you live in the area, she'll be doing photo sessions the afternoon of October 31st. Email me if you want details.

No Eggs for the Pea

Yep.  He's allergic.  I had a hunch after a whole lot of puking every time he ate anything with egg in it.  There's only so many times that you can say, "What a co-inky-dink!"  And yet again, I find myself thinking, "Trust your mom gut!"  The nurses and doctors brushed off my concerns the first couple times because there was no hives or anaphylaxis (thank you, God!).  But I just had this deep down feeling that he was allergic to eggs.

Looking over his list of "hidden egg items", I was a little surprised by a few of them...bologna?  Turkish delight?  (Not so much surprised that turkish delight has egg in it...although I didn't know that...as surprised that they would bother putting it on the list.)

The good news is that egg is an allergy that most kids grow out of.  The bad news is that an already overprotective mommy has now been given more reason to be.

Couple Pea pics:

Funny conversation in Chick-fil-A last Thursday:
Me:  Thank you so much!
Nice Lady Helping Me With The High Chair: Oh, you're so welcome!  You have a beautiful little boy.
Me:  Why, thank you.
NLHMWTHC: With those curls, he would make such a beautiful little girl.
Me:  We're getting them cut off tomorrow.

The Run-In

Me: Oh, hi! (Awkward pause) It's been a long time.

Blog:  Yeah...a really long time.

Me:  Indeed. (Even more awkward pause) Yeah, I've just been very busy.  And stuff.

Blog:  Yeah, me, too.

Me:  Really?  I mean...yeah.

Blog:  I heard you went to Disneyworld.

Me:  Yes...that is...where we went.

Blog:  Well, if you ever want to share any of those pictures, just...call me...or...

Me:  I will.  I mean it.

Blog:  Great.  And you, umm, you look good.

Me:  So do y--look, let's not do this.

Cutest Video I've Seen In a Long Time

This single baby actually has talent.

Shout Out Friday

Check out my sister Ellen's Etsy shop!  Because she's kind of awesome.

She makes cartoon portraits, sculptures, kokeshi-esh peg dolls, and adoption-related what-nots.  I heard a rumor (okay, from our mother) that she's started making wedding toppers as well.  Also, she loves to do custom stuff (she did a custom painting of the Pea when he was born for his nursery, and for his birthday, she made him a little giraffe).

Also also, she's going to start making nesting dolls, and who doesn't love nesting dolls?  a curdmudgeon that no one likes, that's who.

Happy Labor Day!

Technically, the only "laboring" I've done all day is getting dressed up in Hog garb and heading to Chick-fil-A for a free chicken sandwich.

My mom was even in town this morning, so I got a nap.

Yippee!

Shout Out Friday!

Yeah, I'm starting this...it may or may not last.

Shout out to Sara for introducing me to Alf's Natural Nutrition Puffed Brown Rice.  $1 for a bag of it.

What it is:  Whole brown rice

What it is not:  Anything else whatsoever

Note To The Person Who Stole My Stroller from Hobby Lobby

I may not know who you are, but Jesus does.

And you are making Him cry.

To be fair, I left the stroller under the cart, and when I came back for it, it was gone. But what kind of person wouldn't take a BABY STROLLER into the store's lost and found?

Calling All Gleeks!

FOX is re-airing the Glee pilot with additional footage and performances tonight at 9/8c.  Then the season premiere is next week.  Squee!!

(Thanks, GreenBeanTeenQueen for keeping me up to speed.)

Puppies Dressed As Cats (08/27/09)

Video Recaps | Full Episodes | Webisodes

An Open Letter to the Pea

Dear Pea,
Have I done something to offend you?  Or is there just some cranky, grumpy, you-may-have-brought-me-into-this-world-but-I-will-take-you-out, mood-swingy phase you're going through right now?

Or is it just teething?

Sincerely,
Your Loving Mother

 

I have to share this story really quickly:  I was flipping through my Google Reader, and I caught a glimpse of this picture of a baby wearing a bib just like the Pea's.  Then, I looked closer and said, "Oh, he really looks like the Pea."  Closer inspection:  Okay, that is the Pea.  My friend Amy hosted an awesome pool party last weekend, and she captured this sweet dinner shot.  Because nothing says pool party like jarred corn.  :)

My Bologna has a First Name

It's p-e-w-w-w-w-w.

I'm facing a tiny conundrum (and by tiny, I mean really, truly miniscule).

I bought some Oscar Meyer Cajun Seasoned chicken lunch meat.  It tastes yummy.  It smells like a small animal crawled into my fridge and died a horrible death.  Putting it in tupperware has helped to contain the stench  somewhat.  But each time I open it, it overwhelms.

What to do?  Throw it out?  Tough it out?

I'm pretty frugal, so I'm leaning towards toughing it out, but I just wanted to give everyone a fair warning for your own lunches.

A Bouquet of Freshly Sharpened Pencils

I love that image from "You've Got Mail".  I don't have a school-aged child yet.  It's been awhile since I've been a student (less time than you might think due to my oh-so-utilized graduate degree).  But there's just something about this time of year that sends my heart aflutter.

School supplies lined up ready to go, the smell of new textbooks (one of my favorite scents), crinkly backpacks that haven't been broken in.  I love it!  All of it!

My niece is starting pre-K tomorrow...I'm so excited for her!


On a side note, I've finally put my finger on who (what) my son's crawl reminds me of.  He crawls with both hands, one knee, and a foot.

Gollum.  (or, rather, Smeagol as he's so sweet, and I'm a geek)

A Word of Advice for Dating in the Dark Contestants

Just show up on the balcony.

He may be shorter than you. She may have a big forehead.

Isn't an awkward hug with a limo ride better than the "...but his teeth weren't straight enough" walk of shame? It's not like you're agreeing to marry the person. Just ditch them by e-mail a week later. If they end up being a stalker, you can sue the network. There you go, a win-win.

The only excuse that doesn't make you look like a shallow harpy? He was too handsy/she was moving too fast. Or we had nothing in common...I wouldn't care if he was Brad Pitt.

Seriously. Just show up on the balcony.


On a related note, Glee, your fall premiere cannot come too soon.

Dog Days of Summer

I always know that I've hit that point of summer (the point where the thought of doing anything but following the Pea around the air-conditioned house and slurping a popsicle is laughable) when I open my cookbook before heading to the store and cannot find one recipe (not a one!) that I have any desire to make.  (Yes, I realize that was the world's longest run-on sentence, but it's too hot to go back and fix it.)

It's too hot to go swimming.  Summer has jumped the shark.

Come join me in my lethargy.

Dogpatch U.S.A.

I had a random memory as Bill and I were driving back from seeing Wicked Saturday night. (It was okay...if by "okay" you mean "FRIGGIN' AWESOME!!!!")



We got on the topic of band experiences. Bill was kind of hot snot in a hot snot Atlanta band. By his senior year, he was the drum major. I grew up in Arkansas. His band went to places like New York City and Sea World. Our band went to Dogpatch U.S.A.** If you're never heard of Dogpatch, there's a reason. If you HAVE heard of Dogpatch, you probably grew up within a one hour radius of me.

Dogpatch dreamed of being "the next Disneyland". The only problem was that they (a) built it in the middle of Nowhere, Arkansas; (b) based it on the capers of Lil' Abner; (c) y'know, I really can't think of a (c)...I feel that (a) & (b) are more than sufficient reasons for failure.

And we didn't just go to Dogpatch, we PLAYED at Dogpatch. For whom? I'm really not sure. Our parents and the other three poor souls who actually paid to go to the park that day? The park finally closed for good in 1993. I can't remember the exact year we went, but it had to be within 1 or 2 years of its closing. The only thing I remember that was left open was the ferris wheel, the train (which you could easily jump off of mid-ride), and some random retired circus elephants.

Does anyone else remember this? Sara?

And does anyone have any good memories of Dogpatch in its heyday? That would make me feel a little better.

Oh, and you can watch a simultaneously hilarious and depressing news story about it. Please don't judge the entire state by this. Please.

**In our band director's defense, we also went to Washington D.C. my junior year and played on the Capitol steps.

The Chick-fil-A Way

Ever had a day that you were just blown away by the customer service everywhere you went? I had one of those days yesterday. Maybe I was interpreting adequate service as exceptional because I was in a good mood. Maybe everyone was just in a good mood because the weather wasn't stifling.

Whatever it was/is, Bill and I call this kind of service "the Chick-fil-a Way". Anytime I stop and take notice of how well I'm being treated, it makes me think of my favorite fast food joint. Seriously, I don't know what's in their training manual, but it works. Perhaps it just says, "Treat every customer as if he or she is the only person in the restaurant...and your long-lost grandma."

Of course, when a Chick-fil-a experience goes awry, it is all the more noticeable. But those instances are rare and easily forgiveable.

And I even won the "every 100th customer free meal" the other night. And and they gave me a sticker. The actual conversation went a little something like this:

Chick-fil-A Chick: Oh! I have some good news for you...

Me: (gasp!) Am I the 100th customer? Am I? Am I?

Chick: Yes! (whispers) We have to ring the cowbells, is that okay?

Me: Uh, YEAH!

Chick: (Rings cowbell, other employees join in) Oh, and could I ask you to wear this sticker?

Me: Uh, YEAH!!!

And I wore it all night so that the other Harry Potter movie-goers could be jealous of my free Chick-fil-A 8 count nugget meal. Nom nom nom.

What is WRONG with me?

The Pea gets up at 6 a.m. He does this every. single. morning. (except for when he gets up at 5:45)

And every morning, I swear that I will go to bed early that night.

It's 11:09. I am not even getting ready for bed yet. Plech. Night Karen wins again.


How 'bout an old school stink eye Pea pic?

She's Got the Look

I'm having a very meh week, wardrobe-wise. I suppose it started with the tinkle incident last Saturday. The thing is, I just don't care. I hate that feeling of "letting oneself go". And I'm really not intending to. It's just kind of...happened.

Case in point: I am out of hair gel, almost out of a makeup, need a haircut, have a 3 month-old pedicure, and am suffering from serious clothes envy every time I hang out with one of my friends who wears cute little skirts to go grocery shopping (ummm...and that feels like all of them). All of these are highly fixable. It's just that most days, the Pea is either going to pee, spit up, drool, or worse on said clothes before lunch.

I think I need to have a pamper Karen day pronto. Not so much because I desperately want one. In fact, more because I don't.

Cuteness Strikes Back

It occurs to me that I promised a lightsaber pic and never delivered. I give you...the Pea-duan:


(note the lazy ton-ton in the background)

Piddle Puddle

Why, why, why do I stray from Pampers Cruisers?  WHY??

I noticed on my last trip to Sam's that the cost per diaper difference between Pampers and Huggies was noticeable.

Mistake #1:  "How different can Huggies be?"

Immediately, I noticed that they didn't have that Pampers fresh smell to them and didn't quite hug him like the ol' Pampers.

Mistake #2:  "Well, that's just aesthetics.  I'm sure they work just as well or they wouldn't be a top-selling brand.  I like their wipes."

Flash-forward to this afternoon when I decided to kill a little time with the Pea in a new doggy boutique while Bill sold back some DVD's to Vintage Stock. 

Mistake #3: Okay, I don't even know how this happened.  All I know is that one minute, I was looking at custom doggy thongs (DO NOT ASK!!), and the next minute, there was a puddle of Henry's pee-pee on the floor and my pants.  The bizarre thing was that the diaper wasn't all that wet, and he didn't pee on his clothes at all.  Thankfully, with that many quivering little dogs around, there was already a lot of mopping going on.

And I will never buy anything but Pampers again.  This time I mean it.

Like Mother, Like Son

This child would happily subsist on nothing but cheese and carbs for the rest of his life.

Mmmmm...cheese.

A Lock for the Whosie Whatsie?

It is a whole new world in Chez Pea on the babyproofing front.  And I don't just mean "it's a whole new world now that he's mobile" (which he is).  It's a whole new world since the last time I ever looked at so much as a baby gate (hmmm...when my little sister was 2 years old?)

Did you know there are toilet locks now?  Toilet locks.

And outlet covers that have a little push button in the middle so you don't have to ruin your nails.

Oh, oh, and ridiculously expensive retractable gates that allow you to guard your wonky stairs.

Toilet locks.  Seriously.

Happy Harry Potter HBP Release Day!

I'm not going to be able to see it for a week and a half, so I don't want to know ANYTHING! It does help that it's based on a book series that I practically have memorized. At this point, they can't change too much.


...and then Harry recognized his true calling as a litigation attorney. The End.

Wolverine!

The Pea seems to have an almost mutant superpower of rapid healing. He scratched his face yesterday, and by this afternoon, it was almost gone.

Cool T-shirt for a Great Cause

http://zachanderin.blogspot.com/2009/07/new-t-shirt-design.html

Some friends of friends are selling these way cool t-shirts to benefit an orphanage in Malawi.

This is the design, available in different colors:

Get a shirt, you all everybody!

Chaos

If any of you know Bill and I personally, you know that we live a fairly quiet, peaceful lifestyle.  This is helped by the Pea going to bed at 6:30, our shared love of reading and movies, and our fat lump-of-a-dog sleeping almost as much as the baby.

This week, the nephews are visiting.  They are sweet, fun children (toddler and 5 year-old).  However...in the course of one afternoon, every toy in the house was spread out across our living room.  The toddler managed to set off the carbon monoxide detector during the Pea's nap. (youch!)  At one point, five different noise-producing toys were going off at once.  And 5 year-old decided to engage the Pea in a light saber battle.

Pea's first light saber pictures to follow!

Wow, I'm Exhausted...

I've been running around like a madwoman for the past 48 hours trying to get my house/pantry/life ready for a visit from Bill's family starting tomorrow.  Thankfully, my mom (aka "Oma") has been here to help take care of the Pea...okay, and me.

So when I start saying scary, stupid, nonsensical things like, "Oh, I should try out this new recipe from Fancy-Pants Chef magazine but first let me finish this batch organic carrot puree for the Pea", she says things like, "No, grill hamburgers and make taco soup in the crockpot.  Now go to bed.  You're not getting enough sleep."

I love my mom.

Ode to a Dying Camera

This was the last picture taken by our old camera before it went kaput a few weeks ago. I was always the lady saying, "Could you take a picture of us? You have to hold down this button a l-o-o-o-ng time." And then the person would hit the on/off switch (located ever so conveniently next to the shutter button). Pictures at night were but a blur. Action shots? What do you think?

Our new camera has a "rapid fire" button that takes a bunch of pictures in succession to make sure everyone's eyes are open...not that we'd ever need that feature (***cough...Pea***). It even has a feature that detects when a person is smiling and automatically takes the picture. I AM NOT KIDDING. This camera could revolutionize my life. Until it breaks in four years.

Dixie-Chicked

Last night, Bill and I were driving around singing old Michael Jackson tunes (and who hasn't for the last week?)  The conversation evolved to trying to remember the names of all the Jackson 5:  Michael, Tito, Jermaine, Shmerm(cough)...and the other one.

Bill thinks the band Dixie-Chicked (and he's trying to coin the phrase now, thank you very much).  Basically, any time the focus on a band's lead singer takes on such a life of its own that the remaining members become a vague buzz in the background, the group has officially Dixie-Chicked.  No Doubt.  Genesis.  Oh...old school...The Band.

Obviously, Michael Jackson took it to the extreme.  Which bands do you think Dixie-Chicked? 

FYI: New Blog

I've started a new blog:  Novels During Naptime.  It will focus on the challenges, joys, and hazards of writing and momming simultaneously.

I'll still be snarking over here, too...just wanted to give a head's up.

Homemade Yogurt: Epic Fail

Riding on my Amish Friendship Bread high, I decided to listen to my older sister once again when she assured me that I can, indeed, make my own yogurt.

No, I can not. (Apparently, I managed to buy the one type of milk that you can't use to make yogurt...ultrapasteurized.  Pleh.)

Om Nom Nom...Amish Friendship Bread

My older sister gave me a baggy of Amish Friendship Bread starter, and it is so yummy--the bread not the starter. (And foolproof, which is a good thing for anything involving me being in the kitchen.) I'd post the recipe, but the thing is that you have to have the starter to make it. You squish it around and add flour, sugar, and water to feed it (like a pet that gives something back in return). On the tenth day, you use some of it to make the bread and some, you give away to friends. And you keep some for yourself to make more yummy Amish Friendship Bread.

There's a warning on the recipe to not give away your last bit of starter because only the Amish know how to make it. They would tell you, but then, they'd have to kill you.

I've always been a sucker for all these chain letter type things: recipe exchanges, memes, panty exchanges (this was going around when I was in junior high...was I the only girl out there who bought a package of adorable panties for another girl in hopes of getting 36 in return and got SQUAT?) This is the first one that's worked. Yay, Amish!!

What Would You Do Differently...

If you could re-do your college years?

I ran into two former classmates from my small, liberal arts alma mater (Go Gender Neutral, Ethnically Ambiguous, Non-militaristic Warriors!) this afternoon. One was a doctor. The other, his receptionist. As I drove away, I realized that there is absolutely nothing that I would change about my life right now. But if I could go back in time and relive those college days, I would:

1. Major in History, not Psychology
2. Start a petition to improve the cafeteria food
3. Put on my big girl panties and ask a few guys out my senior year (no, I'm not telling who)
4. Lay out in the sun and read every waking moment more
5. Join Phi Beta Kappa when I was invited (don't ask: it's a long, annoying story)
6. Watch more movies in my friend Finley's room (he had a ginormous T.V. and this crazy newfangled thing called a DVD player)

What about you? What would you do differently?

Thank You, Mr. Google.

Over Christmas, my little sister introduced me to the joys of Google Reader. I had absolutely no idea what "RSS feeds" were before then.  And, to be honest, I still have no inkling how they work...gnomes?  Evil movie computers?  Don't know.  Don't care.  All I know is that I can read 5 times the number of blogs than I did before in half the time.  Even as I write this, baby zoo animals and drama queen dolls could be delivered to my reader.  And then, if something tickles my fancy, I can easily e-mail it to others or share it with a comment.

Good work, gnomes!

Of course, she also introduced me to bubbleshooter, the biggest time blackhole of them all.  Boo hissy, Sara!

Ouch.

I went by Plato's Closet this afternoon to sell back a few clothes that no longer fit, post-Pea.  My sister had warned me that they're picky about what they'll take, so I only took in things that were in good shape and (what I thought were) good brands.  J. Crew, Banana Republic, Gap, Harold's, Express, Guess (okay, that one might be stretching it by a decade or two, but it was a super-cute jean jacket!).  Looking back, I should have gotten a clue when the guy walking in before me was wearing a trendy t-shirt with a band that was doing a reunion tour before he was born.  But I toddled in with a 20 pound Pea on one hip and 20 pounds of clothes in the other.

Second moment I should have gotten a clue...
Snooty 19 year-old guy checking me in (not to be confused with snooty 19 year-old guy standing in front of me or snooty 19 year-old guy standing behind me):  You're supposed to bring your items in lying flat in a bag or basket.

Me:  I'm sorry.  I didn't know.

S19YOGCMI:  Meh.




Final moment of shame (after running to Wal-Mart and back, with ice cream melting in the car and the Pea melting down in my arms)...
Snooty 19 year-old girl checking me out:  Ummm...yeah, we looked through your stuff, and we can't take any of it.  The styles are just so... (she trailed off with a look of disgust).

Me:  (((mortified look of shame)))

S19YOGCMO:  They were just so outdated...

Me:  (((praying she will STOP TALKING)))

S19YOGCMO:  Ummm...if you wait a little while longer, you might be able to bring the jeans back in as "vintage"...

Me:  (((grabbing the clothes...contemplating leaving them in the parking lot for wild animals to nest or burrow in)))


Oi.  That process made a form rejection in the publishing world look like a kiddie pool full of marshmallows and kittens.

Whatever happened to, "I'm sorry, but these items don't fit our inventory needs right now"?

Helpful Idea

I was shocked the other night when some of my more seasoned mom friends (the ones I always call in an "Is this normal??" panic) had not heard of this tip:

For slippery finger foods, coat them with ground up Cheerios dust.  I just toss some in a plastic bag, pulverize it with a rolling pin (which is kind of satisfying in and of itself), then sprinkle it over the diced whatever and toss it around a little to coat it.

Huzzah!!

It even got the Pea to eat avocadoes.  Now I have to share.  :(

On a side note:  the Pea keeps trying to nurse and suck his thumb at the same time.  The results are highly ineffective on both fronts but also quite hilarious.

There's a Post a Brewin'

I'm curious what other people's writing styles are.  When I write anything (a blog post, a story, a letter, an anything), I mentally write it out in my head several times before I ever commit it to paper (or cyberspace).  Then, I air-type it (much as I air-type dialogue in a movie if I'm bored with it).  Then, I actually sit down and write it out or type it.

This is actually the first post I've written in a long time where I sat down and just started writing.  Hence, it's pretty dull.  Sorry about that.  But I really am curious about other people...do you just sit down and start writing or do you think the wording out beforehand?

It's Contaminated

I have a bad habit of leaving half-finished glasses of water around the kitchen and bathroom.  Bill has a bad habit of putting said glasses into the dishwasher even if I'm actively drinking them ("Clearly this half-finished glass of water is fresh and that half-finished glass of water is from last night!").

I'm thankful that I have a husband who cares about our house and helps clean up on a regular basis.

Bill will be thankful when the hostile aquaphobic aliens invade our house, and we have ammo.

I'm Not Kidding

Took the Pea out for a walk yesterday afternoon (it was blazing hot, so we just walked around the block rather than the planned jaunt down to the lake to see the ducks...I believe my actual thought process was, "Must get out of house with bored, cranky baby.  Ack.  Must must get back to air conditioning.)

So anyhoo, popped open the stroller, strapped the Pea inside, walked around to the front of the house where the stroller closed up on my baby.  Closed. Up. On. My. Baby.

Thankfully, this lazy Mama Pea was walking very slowly.  I realized immediately that the handlebars were moving forward while the wheels were not.  And the Pea thought it was hilarious.

Me, not so much.

Seriously, closed up on my baby.

Jinx Launch Max Into Space

"Movie computer shenanigans" is a frequent topic of discussion with Bill and me.  Last night, we were watching "Eagle Eye" with Shia LeBeaghfff...cough (too lazy to go to IMDB to check the spelling).  About 2/3 of the way through, I turned to Bill and said, "Well, this is just about the most ridiculous thing I've seen in a long time."  It started off with Big Brother watching.  It ended with evil movie computer shenanigans.  I hate evil movie computer shenanigans.

Sometimes, evil movie computer shenanigans can be as simple as "Would you like to fire the conveniently located missiles now?  Yes/No?"  My personal fave is the "Would you like to copy all the files from the computer onto your (2 MB) floppy disk now?  Yes/No? [gentle whirring as the status bar moves just quickly enough to allow the protagonist to make a hairbreadth escape]".  This is not to be confused with the "Would you like to delete all the files on your computer now? Yes/No?" screen shot.  My husband recently had to copy all of our files when switching computers.  If only he'd had a movie computer, it wouldn't have taken him all night.

And we still lost a bunch of songs and pictures.

I think the reason that movie computer shenanigans bug me so much is that often they are stuck into an otherwise semi-plausible movie.  Like Space Camp.  Is a perky computer obsessed with Leaf (Joaquin) Phoenix's emotional well-being really the ONLY thing that the screenwriters could come up with to get the kids into space?  Really, Hollywood?  Really?!

Complete side note:  pic of the Pea (the second picture, he was thi-i-i-s close to tears.

I Can't Believe I'm Actually Saying This...

But I kind of miss the early days of nursing the Pea.  Well, maybe not the very early days, but the pre-solids days.

I'm just terrible with food.  I feel like I've been faking it for the past however-many-years I've been feeding myself.  And then Bill.  And now the Pea.  It was nice to know those first few months that I was providing him the exact nutrition that he needed.  Now, I feel like I'm guessing.

I try to feed him lots of veggies and fruits, whole grains, yada yada yada.  But I find myself slipping into my same old "open up the fridge/cupboard and stare blankly for 5 minutes" pattern that I experience choosing foods for myself.  And there's this lowgrade, constant undercurrent of guilt (much like with  my own eating habits).  Is he eating too many Cheerios?  Am I ruining his speech development by letting him use a sippy cup (not very effectively at that) without a straw?  Should he still be eating this many purees?  Should I make more of my own baby food?

My mom has a refreshingly laissez-faire attitude.  Her opinion?  Keep a baby food grinder at the table and just put whatever I'm eating through that.  If he eats it, great.  If not, shovel some Gerber into him.

Apparently, no one ever told her that if you feed babies anything but homemade organic baby food, they'll explode into a fiery ball of nutritionally deficient pesticides.

Why I Hate Living in the Tornado Belt

Umm, yeah...I was here:

AND I just found out that there was a funnel cloud beginning to rotate above us yesterday--a full day AFTER it happened.  When I saw the picture...on the news.   I knew that there was a vicious storm raging over the oh-so-sturdy Sam's Club tin roof.  Just didn't know it was near tornadic.  To be honest, I'm really thankful that I didn't know about this until after the fact.  Because if I had known how bad it was at the time, I would have been wigging out rather than sifting through the bin of avocados, eating free sample chimichangas, and reading oversized board books to the Pea.

(Thanks, Sam's Club, for the heads up on the near tornado raging above us.  Kudos to the Wal-Mart multi-million dollar weather tracking station...sorry, I don't write sarcasm very well.)

Hey, Mambo!

The Pea has suddenly become very picky discriminating in his tastes.  I've discovered three tricks that seem to usually work for most foods:
1.) the old "chugga-chugga" choo-choo train.  Tedious and not very original but effective in a pinch.
2.) mix it with bananas.  While I consider spinach and bananas to be nasty unappetizing, the Pea loves it.  To each his own.
3.) sprinkle it generously with garlic powder.  Mambo Italiano!

Ahhh...#3.  Therein lies my problem.  The Pea's breath has become unbearable.  I was cuddling with him before bed, and he burped...I thought I was going to pass out.

Any ideas?

Favorite Awkward Family Photo of the Day

Yeah, I'm a little obsessed with Awkward Family Photos.

But this one takes the pink, frosted WHAT ON EARTH cake:

My Plant

I have an atrociously brown thumb.  As in, Bill has asked that I never attempt to grow tomatoes or keep a houseplant alive ever again.  But for purely sentimental reasons, I took a clipping from my Aunt Joy's hoya plant (which was grown from a clipping itself from my grandmother's hoya).  I put it in a glass of water by the window and, well, pretty much forgot about it for 4 months.

Lo and behold, that crazy little clipping survived and thrived.  I went out and bought some soil and a pot for it, then forgot about it for another 2 months.  Bill finally asked that I either toss it or put it in the pot.  Which I did. (put it in the pot).  That crazy little clipping has become a crazy little growing plant.

Now that I think back on it, I seem to remember my grandmother making a comment about how nothing could kill that crazy little hoya.  Apparently, even her granddaughter.

Snerf.

I am sick (like rivalling that nasty bout of mastitis when the Pea was 6 weeks old sick).  Bill is sick.  The magical nanny who was supposed to come and take care of the Pea while we lay in bed and sniffle and cough didn't arrive.  And the Pea didn't get the memo that he was to sleep in past 5:40 a.m. this morning.

Blech.

The Blahs

I've been in a blah mood the past couple of days.  Not a bad mood.  Just kind of blehhh.  I haven't felt super creative or inspired or motivated. It will pass.  Just gotta wait it out and keep reminding myself that this is the only time in my life when I'm going to be someone's favorite singer, dancer, poet, comedian (okay, actually, that one goes to Bill hands down), chef, teacher, cruise director.  All rolled up into one slightly frazzled package.

So on these days when I feel like my son eats too many cereal puffs and not enough cauliflower, I'll just keep that thought in mind.

ETA:  Sorry for all the Pea-centric posts this week.  I promise I have a life and interests outside the bambino that I will write about soon.  :)

It Starts Early

What is it with boys and technology?  The Pea is currently eschewing colorful blocks with boingy things inside, a light up ball with sing-along songs and the always-popular dog's collar in a furious attempt to reach and click the computer mouse.

(FYI:  It took me approximately 5 minutes to type the above two sentences one-handed.  The Pea is now down for a nap....ahhh)

There is going to be one thing I miss this first summer of momhood (okay, other than sleep):  movies.  Bill and I are both big movie buffs.  In years past, we would go to every summer blockbuster, sleeper hit, so-so matinee.  Everything.  Now, our movie schedule is limited to grandparent visits.  It's not even that we won't eventually see all the movies.  It's just that waiting in line at Redbox or Blockbuster isn't quite the same as munching popcorn and Coke in stadium seating.  We each have a list of a few non-negotiables this summer...must be seen in theater, preferrably in the first week of release.  Harry Potter, Star Trek (already pulled that one off), G.I. Joe (for Bill).  If I get really brave, I may attempt Up with the Pea.  Maybe.

 

First 2 of 3 teeth he's cut in the last 48 hours

The Noodle Stops Here

It's interesting to me just exactly where the Pea has decided to draw the line food-wise.

Things that I would be...hesitant to put in my mouth, he loves.  Pureed brussels sprouts?  Faboo.  Mushed up cauliflower?  He sends his compliments to the chef.  Plain yogurt straight off a spoon.  More please.

Pasta with melted ricotta cheese?  Nnnn.  Nnnnnnn.  Nnn. (You'll just have to envision the Pea with his lips pursed, shaking his head from side to side giving me the stink eye.)

Now, I'm not a huge ricotta cheese fan.  I could kind of take it or leave it.  I prefer cottage cheese in my lasagna.  But the Pea acts like it is a foul substance created by evil minions to slowly poison him.

And avocados.  He hates avocadoes.  HOW can he hate avocadoes??

At least I've discovered that if you mix bananas in, he will eat anything.

Encyclopedia Brown Cracks the Case

Fussy?  Check.
Refusing to eat?  Check.
Disturbed sleep?  Check.
Cranky wake-ups?  Check.
All-around plechiness?  Oh...check.

Bugs Meany pinching my son when I'm not looking?  No.  But there is a little razor sharp white something peeking out of his gums...

Baby Pants Pockets

Why??

I've wondered this since the Pea was wearing newborn clothes.  What on earth are they supposed to carry in those little pockets?

And the pockets are so tiny that the only things they could actually put in them would be choking hazards.

Get Busy Living or Get Busy Crying

Things have been a little rough the past couple days at Chez Pea.  The Pea is almost exactly 9 months old, and several things are rocking his little world right now:

1. teething
2. working on crawling
3. frustration that he is not able to crawl wherever he wants right this moment with no one to stop him.  ever.
4. the dropping of his 3rd nap with his 2nd nap not adequately spaced late enough from the 1st nap to get him all the way to bedtime (naps have been my nemesis since day one).
5. simultaneous extreme emotions toward the dog.  LOVE!  ANGER!  "COME NEAR ME!  DON'T LICK ME!  EAT MY PUFFS!  DON'T DISTURB ME WHILST I'M EATING!" 
6.  horrible itchy eczema behind his knees and in the crooks of his arms.  yet when i try to put the Rx cream on it...treachery, woman!

As I said to my mom earlier this week...he's just got a lot of living to do right now.

And I must run.  He just got up from a very short nap, confirming my suspicions that this is going to continue to be the day from the Dark Bowels of Hades.

Raising Some Moolah

I wanted to pass on the link to this website which is raising money to help pay for the medical costs of a young author/librarian.  In February, she (a) got signed with a literary agent, (b) got married, and (c) was diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer.  She seems like someone I would be friends with, and I hate cancer.

Love, love, love

I heart this website. I can't decide which is my favorite. Either the bladder ("urine for a treat") or the hypothalamus ("glandmaster flash"). I just want to cuddle them. Oh, wait! I can. And check out their blog. It's actually pretty educational.

Crocodile Blah

The other day, I was thinking about how every song ever created is probably at least one person's favorite.  It makes me a little sad.  "Crocodile Rock" is someone's favorite song.  When Elton John starts playing it in concert, someone starts jumping up and down screaming because that is the sole song for which they bought tickets to his concert.  It's not that I dislike Sir Elton that much.  I think he has a few songs that are even favorite-worthy.  "Your Song", for instance, is excellent (especially Ewan McGregor's version).   

"Sugar Shack" by Jimmy Gilmer & the Fireballs...that is someone's favorite song.  Okay, now I'm really depressed about the future of humanity.

At the Risk of Sounding Like a Commercial...

I lurrrvv the new Kashi Mayan Harvest Bake frozen entree! It's sweet, salty, savory, nutty, spicy. It involves plantains, yams, ancho chile sauce, amaranth (what the heck is that?) polenta , and pumpkin seeds. I know it sounds a little odd, but Kashi makes it work. To quote one of my favorite book characters, Little Pea: "Yum. Yum. Extra yum."

Go try it. You can thank me later.

The Accidental Thief

Well, this was one of those things that as soon as it happened, I said, "Well, there's a blog post right there."

I went shopping on Tuesday and tried on some tankinis at Old Navy. Unfortunately, with me nursing and not ACTUALLY being a 14 y/o girl, the styles they had there made me look like a hoochie mama. So I ended up getting a really cute one that I didn't have time to try on at Target later (I went to go find a picture of it online, but dang, there are a lot of tankinis at Target dot com, so just trust me, it was cute).

Okay, so I got home, changed my pants, and lo and behold, I'm still wearing some black Old Navy bikini bottoms. Yes, I felt very stupid, and yes, I did return them. The guy (yes, I had to explain this to a male cashier) was very friendly about it, but secretly, I'm sure he was thinking I was a lunatic.

Really, New Moon PR People? Really?!?

So my wonderful husband had to run to the store the other night and knowing that I'm secretly a 14 y/o girl an avid reader, he brought me back a copy of this week's Life & Style magazine with this cover (we're each allowed one age-inappropriate celebrity crush, and mine is currently RPattz...his is Emmy Rossum, but he gets extra bonus points for saying it's because she looks like me even though that is not true. At all):

Secretly being a 14 y/o girl Concerned about the cast's emotional welfare, I perused the article. It turns out that the film's publicity coordinator a rogue crew member sent out a press release revealed off-the-record that Edward Robert Pattinson is jealous of Jacob and Bella's whatever actor plays Jacob and Kristen Stewart's burgeoning relationship. And of all the cute new werewolves. And it turns out that when he sweats, it doesn't in fact turn into sparkles but rather b.o. like the rest of us.

So help me, if they send out a press release that my age-inappropriate celebrity crush is in an accident while filming his death-by-sparkle scene and Kristen Stewart has to rush to his side, heads will roll. Roll. Of course, now I've given them the idea.

TGIF

I was travelling all last week to visit Bill's family (baby + 4 hour delay on plane ride - naps = NOOOOOOOO!!!), hence my absence. Whenever I go too long without blogging, everything starts to seem like a good potential blog post. Then, I sit down in front of the computer and ((blank stare)). We got some really good pictures. I also downloaded all Bill's parents' pictures from their camera from the hospital and our visit last fall. It was so neat to see pictures from those first few weeks that I'd never seen before.

While sitting at the airport (and by "sitting", I mean "pacing in front of Gate D32 for 4 hours while Delta repeatedly promised it would be 'another 20 minutes or so' looking for a spot where I could feed my son without becoming an exhibitionist"), I started thinking about things that I've never done. Not like "go to Paris" things. Just things that I've never done, whether I have any real interest in doing them in the future or not. The thing that got me started thinking about it when I realized, riding to the airport, that I've been with my husband for 6 years, and I've never driven in Atlanta (where his family lives) nor do I really have a desire to. On the drive, we passed two wrecks and a recliner sitting in the middle of I-75 that had just fallen off someone's truck. I'm sure it was about to cause a third accident.

Things I've Never Done:

1. Driven in Atlanta

2. Watched "Tommy Boy"

3. Mowed the Lawn
4. Given Sonny a bath

5. Swum out further than waist deep in the ocean

6. Pulled an all-nighter

7. Juggled

8. Bought anything from the Swann's man

9. Run more than a mile

This is really one of those infinite lists, so I'm just going to stop.

Impressions

Whenever I'm out and about and see a Mennonite family eating out or shopping (and can I just say that I'm always very impressed by how well-behaved the children are in these scenarios), I always wonder if they think I'm dressed like a hussy. I'm a fairly conservative dresser but not when compared with a woman wearing a hat, full-length loose-fitting dress, and long sleeves. I'm not trying to imply that Mennonites are judgemental...I'm just curious.

Just like I've always wondered what Laura Ingalls Wilder would think of Wal-Mart.

Bragging on my Hubby

So how wonderful is Bill? I just feel so blessed that God brought us together and blessed by his love for me. A short list of examples from the last few days:

1. He's willing to play Tetris with me even though he knows I'm going to skunk him 9 times out of 10. (We have a pretty strict "no letting the other person win" rule in our household)

2. He encourages me in creative pursuits even though he knows that, as a result, my desk is just going to get messier and messier.

3. He didn't get mad at me this morning when I woke up super-cranky because our jerkwad dog woke the Pea up early by barking...instead...

4. He went and got me Chick-fil-A chicken minis and picked up the Twilight DVD at Target ("Wow...there were a lot of teenage girls there." His only other later comment, after downloading the special online features was, "Please don't make me watch this." And I won't. That's a promise.)


On a side note (when do I ever blog and not have a side note?), this meme is making the rounds, and though he's not quite verbal yet, I thought it would be fun to have a little imaginary conversation with the Pea:

1. What is something mom always says to you?

The Pea: "Are you hungry?"


2. What makes mom happy?

P: Feeding me.


3. What makes mom sad?

P: Going too long without feeding me.


4. How does your mom make you laugh?

P: Pretty much anything that involves me seeing her one minute...and then disappearing...and then reappearing as if by magic!


5. What was your mom like as a child?

P: Right now, she seems to only exist in my presence.


6. How old is your mom?

P: Old enough to make milk, thank goodness.


7. How tall is your mom?

P: About 3 times as tall as me.


8. What is her favorite thing to do?

P: Feed me.


9. What does your mom do when you're not around?

P: Pump so that Daddy can feed me.


10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?

P: Do people become famous for feeding other, smaller people?


11. What is your mom really good at?

P: Producing milk.


12. What is your mom not very good at?

P: Getting me to like green beans


13. What does your mom do for a job?

P: I'm pretty sure it involves milk in some way...perhaps producing it?


14.What is your mom's favorite food?

P: She seems to put a lot of brown, sweet stuff in her mouth that smells like the nectar of the gods. I heard her refer to it as...what was it? Oh, yes, chocolate.


15.What makes you proud of your mom?

P: She's really a champion milk-producer in my opinion.


16. If your mom were a Cartoon character, who would she be?

P: ???
me: Cartoon characters are those thing on the "classical baby" DVD that Aunt Julie and Uncle Mark gave you for Christmas.
P: Okay. The dancing sheep then.


17. What do you and your mom do together?

P: Pretty much everything at this point.


18. How are you and your mom the same?

P: We're both at the top of a bell-shaped distribution of height for our age.
me: You know what a bell-shaped distribution is?
P: Of course. I am a genius.
me: Well, I know, but still...


19. How are you and your mom different?

P: Well, only one of us can produce milk...three guesses as to who and the first two don't count.


20. How do you know your mom loves you?

P: She tells me so. And she produces milk for me.


21. What does your mom like most about your dad?

P: Seeing what a good daddy he is to me.
me: Okay, yes, I do like that a lot.


22. Where does your mom like to go?

P: Bed seems to be a favorite of hers.


23. What does your mom really want?

P: She's got me and Daddy, what more could she ask for?
me: I couldn't agree more.

Plech.

I've asked a bunch of friends how I'll know when the Pea gets sick. They have all assured me that I'll just know. (With the rotovirus, it was pretty much a no-brainer when I saw the pile of poopy diapers stacking up.) Well, I think the Pea is a little under the weather with a cold. He's just been fussy, ***clingy***, and not sleeping well during his naps for the past couple days (this morning, he actually went down for his 2nd nap at 10:15--not good for his schedule, but, hey, if he needs the sleep...). Then, this morning, I noticed his nose was a little runny and (to put it politely as my friend Rachel does) his stomach "released their contents" into his diaper. Thankfully, no fever. And, other than the rough diapers, I would probably just think he's teething, but I've never heard of teething causing diarrhea. Of course, I also started a new food yesterday...carrots...if he had a food allergy, would the gastrointestinal impact be immediate (i.e. yesterday)?

Onto a more pleasant topic...two separate people have recently told me about this slow cooker website. And I'm SO excited about it. I've already printed off a few recipes. I love using my slow cooker, and I like that she's really honest about whether a particular recipe is good or kind of lackluster or blatantly gross.

Oh, and Happy First Day of Spring!

Things I Like to Eat While Watching "The Biggest Loser"

-double stuff oreos
-Blue Bell mint chocolate chip ice cream bars
-anything with cheese on top
-chips and salsa I get the multigrain chips, so I guess that one's not so bad
-crescent rolls

I know this is horrible, but watching the Biggest Loser (and, boy, I'm addicted...I'm so torn between wanting Tara and Kristen to win), I always get cravings for horrible foods.  Bad me.  Bad, bad me.

And I can only tell myself that I'm breastfeeding so I can eat whatever I want for a very short while longer.

Spinoffs that SHOULD have been

A few pics from this weekend (and, yes, I put the Pea and Bill in matching outfits).

Also, a word of explanation on the Michael Jackson mitten thing going on...I cut the Pea finger while trimming his nails, and he was bleeding everywhere. What a mess.

Okay, Bill and I were discussing this last night...80's spinoff shows that should have been made but never were. I came up with Nick and Mallory from Family Ties getting married and starting a family. A-ay!  How funny would that have been? And then, this morning, I thought of following Ben Seaver to college. Not as funny, but there could have been some potentially moving "Very Special" episodes. I'd give both of those ideas a solid 10 episodes each before cancellation.

What about you? What spinoff would you have watched for half a season?

new favorite thing

blue bell mint chocolate chip ice cream.

sorry no caps.  typing one-handed for delicious reasons.

(Potential) Shark Jumpin' Friday

First off, for those of you who didn't know that I'm a big dorky Harry Potter fan, yes, yes I am.  I know...big surprise.

Second.  Oh,dear.  Bad e-a-r-l-y reviews on the upcoming movie.  (Of course, it was in The Sun, so...)  It's just that the HP books and movies are one of Bill's and my "things".  When we FIRST started dating, he hadn't read the books, and I made this offhand comment about, "Oh, you should read them...they're wonderful!"  And, of course, he ran right out and bought every one of them (it was right before Order of the Phoenix came out, I think) and devoured them in a week.  And he did indeed find them delightful.  And we've had fun HP date nights whenever the movies have come out ever since.  (That, and he knew that for the first 3 days after the books came out, he was not to expect me to cook, clean, or otherwise make eye contact lest I give away the plot.)  I feel a little better that the source for the rumor was The Sun. I mean, come on.

I would just be so sad if the series jumped the shark the SECOND TO THE LAST movie.

Can't be worse than the last two Pirates of the Carribean movies.

Wow.

They've found a pink dolphin in a Louisiana lake.  I'm not kidding.  It's for real.  Apparently, it's an albino.  And. it's. pink.

Plech.

You know you're having a rough day on the old mom-o-meter when after a blowout diaper, you don't just have to change your child's outfit...you have to change yours as well.

And, on a cuter note, I give you...Sweet Potatoes!

Dang, Blogger's being stupid with the photo. I'll have to post it later.

(He really liked them.)

Double Oi.

Okay, again I'm sorry for the lackluster post frequency.  The Pea has come down with a stomach virus (hopefully, we're hitting the tail end of it...no pun intended).  He actually had the rotovirus vaccine, so I'm hoping that it will be a mild case.  So far, it hasn't been too bad.

On a completely unrelated side note, my friend Holley has written a book!  It's a devotional for women.  You can read about it here.  She has a link where you can purchase it.  I got a little sneak peek at it on Saturday, and it looks really good!!

Oi.

Ever have one of those weeks?

Okay, more like two weeks?

I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say that it's been a bit of a rough month so far. The Pea is well (although we've been going through a rough patch in the ol' sleep department). He just started rice cereal and LOVES it. As in, yell-at-me-when-the-spoon-is-not-full-and-headed-towards-his-mouth loves it. We'll see how his introduction to veggies goes. I'll keep a camera nearby just in case it's hilarious. It's funny, but there's this little part of me that's sad that he's started solids. It's kind of the first step of independence, so while the biggest part of me is cheering, "yay!", there's a little part of me that's sighing, "aww..."

Any help here would actually be appreciated: what's a good veggie to start out with. My friend Ashley was going to lend me a book on it, but I'm always curious about others' opinions. Perhaps peas...it would seem appropriate.

And the Pea's waking up from a (two hour!!!) nap. Gotta run and get the oil changed and tires rotated on Bill's car.

Karen out.

Shark Jumpin' Friday

Okay, before I get to the Jump Rant, I had to share this for all my fellow math geek friends out there (courtesy of my sister Sara):

It makes me happy.

I think Facebook Notes may have jumped the shark. I'm getting upwards of 10 a day (and I'm guilty of circulating them myself). It was fun coming up with 25 Random Things about myself and reading others' lists. And the Memories one has been a fun walk down nostalgia lane with some of my old friends. But then came the "First Born" meme--do all my 200-something facebook friends really need to know how long it took me to get pregnant with The Pea and whether I had pain medication during labor? Much less whether it was "natural" or a c-section. (Congrats to all my friends who had to have c-sections and therefore, apparently, had "fake" deliveries.) And what about the second born? Third? What if your first child was adopted? Sigh.

Okay, Seriously, How Cute is This Kid?

A Peek Into My Bedtime Routine

Time/Setting--last night, later than I should have been up, bathroom vanity


Me (staring intently in the bathroom mirror at my nose, moving head slowly from side to side): [silence of intense staring]

Bill (walks in, sees me staring intently at my nose): Ummm, hey, what are you doing?

Me: Staring at my nose. Is it sparkling?

Bill (sensing a possible trap): Is it...what?

Me: Sparkling. I think it's sparkling.

Bill (looking intently at my nose): I...yes. Actually, it is.

Me: ???

Bill: I think it's glitter. Were you touching something with glitter today?

Me: ??? no.


Yeah, I've thought it through, and I've got nothing. It did remind me of the time when Bill and I were dating, and I asked him if I had something on my face. Without skipping a beat, he replied, "Only beauty." See, that's why I love my snarky husband. That, and he isn't bothered by my inherent sparkliness.


Oh, ALSO, if this comes to fruition, I won't have words to express my joy. But I will have a dance to express it, and it will be Corky St. Clair's (a dance which my roommate Jenny and I perfected in grad school)...and it will probably involve a stool.

Shark Jumpin' Friday

Okay...public health and safety has officially jumped the shark when ferret poop is declared an "effective weapon against drug abuse". I should clarify that I called the pharmacist yesterday to ask about safely disposing of some old pills because I know you're not supposed to flush them anymore, and he said to put old coffee grounds in the container with them and just toss it. So I thought...hmmm, perhaps the acidity of the grounds dissolves the pills. I googled it. Nope. It's just gross. That's the point.



But then, I thought about it, and children are not deterred from gross things like coffee grounds or ferret poop. Quite the opposite. Many children (boys in particular) are drawn to said gross objects. So I'm wondering if maybe Coke would dissolve the pills. It dissolves nails overnight.

Diaper Dilemma

Okay, moms, aunts, and grandmas out there...here's my question of the hour:

The Pea is currently in-between sizes in his diapers. The 1-2's are a smidge too small (we've been having leakage, especially at night...I'll leave it at that). The 2's are too big swallowing him whole. My current strategy is to put him in the smaller size during the day when he doesn't get as wet and then just wrap the bigger ones around him as tight as I can at night. But there's still a little gappage, especially if he squirms around a lot. And then, there's the bummer that you can't buy size 2 at Sam's. They jump from 1-2 to 3. The "3" package says 16-28 pounds. Pbuhh!

So my question is...what did you do during the "in-between" times? What I'm doing or something else?

Love/Hate

There are so many things in life that I realize I have a strong love/hate relationship with. For instance, my table top grill (I'd call it a George Foreman, but it's not actually that brand). Love that it cooks food quickly and well. Hate the cleanup. Biggest Loser...love to see healthy life transformations. Hate that they stretch out people-stepping-onto-a-scale into an epic 45 minute-long drama.

Baby products have added a whole new dimension to this:

Pampers....love, love, love that they don't leak. Hate that they are so dang expensive.

Another big example is the Pea's baby monitor. I got an Angelcare monitor that detects movement in his crib and an alert goes off if after 20 seconds if no movement is detected. Normally, it works great, but if he squirms into a corner of his crib and is in a really deep sleep state, occasionally the alarm goes off, and I wake up in a panic. Usually, the beeping itself will wake him up a little, and the alarm turns off by itself. But it just drives me crazy that the device that is supposed to help me sleep better with peace of mind ends up sending my pulse racing and my adrenaline pumping, keeping me from falling back asleep. Still, 98% of the time, it's great, hence the "love" part of the relationship.

And, oh, the toys. Love that the Pea is entertained by the mirror that has a mouse that runs around the edge and is inexplicably shaped like an elephant. Hate the annoying songs that it plays.

DO NOT WANT!!

Ergghhh.  We are being hit by "the ice storm of the decade".  I'm going to go curl up in bed and pray that the electricity doesn't go out.

Random Cravings

So this is odd, but I am currently (like, for the last week or so) experiencing this overwhelming craving for brown sugar.  What on earth?  It reminded me of making cookies growing up--my dad always used to wander in and "help" by picking the lumps out of the brown sugar bag.  I was probably 12 before I realized that he just likes eating brown sugar.  So at least I know where I get it.

Why...why can't I crave something like broccoli or carrots?  Though, to be fair, when I first got pregnant, I craved brussels sprouts.

I'm curious...what random things do you find yourself occasionally craving?

Shark Jumpin' Friday

Okay, this post has been brewin' in the old noggin for quite a while now. I need to address the Twilight shark jump issue. I realize that most of my readers are probably not Twilight fans (and let me clarify that I consider myself a lolfan as, yes, I do recognize the complete and utter WRONGNESS of the whole "high school girl falls for vegetarian, mind-reading, slightly controlling vampire and wants to join his uber-cool family by becoming a vampire herself to the chagrin of her werewolf best friend" plot. But, oh, the sparkling and the fursploding, and yeah, I pretty much think Cleolinda's recaps of the books are as good, nay, better than the actual Twilight series).

Which is why my jaw dropped in horror when I saw that Dakota Fanning is in talks to play a minor (but key) character in the upcoming New Moon movie. All I can do is just shake my head and say, "no, no, no." I don't know what it is that irks me about that chick, but I just don't like her acting. I guess that I'm just bothered by all those child actors that are 12 going on 27. And I always cringe when the younger sibling gets in on the game because that just seems like a huge red flag that mommy and daddy are obsessed with fame.

But it got me thinking about the EW review of Breaking Dawn (the final book). ***spoiler alert if you haven't read it yet and think you may at some point*** The reviewer wrote the following..."And it's when Bella, suffering from morning sickness and gestating a vampire, starts vomiting 'a fountain' of blood, that Meyer jumps the shark." Really, EW reviewer? Really?? Not when the teenage girl fell for the sparkly, gorgeous, mind-reading, controlling, vegetarian vampire much to the chagrin of her hunky, brooding, equally controlling werewolf best friend? Because women actually do vomit in labor. But I don't know any who are in love with vampires.

It just really reminded me of the time in college when I was watching "Face/Off" with a group of friends (a movie about people removing and switching their faces and bodies), and during a scene at the end, one of them falls off the side of a boat, grabs a chain hanging off said boat and starts to barefoot waterski alongside the boat. My friend Chris scoffed and said, "Now THAT couldn't happen". Body switching? Sure! Barefoot waterskiing? NEVER!

Random Thoughts

Just a few random ramblings that have crossed my mind over the past few days:

Okay, I'm not much of a brand snob, especially when it comes to clothing.  And especially especially when it comes to baby clothing that the Pea is going to grow out of in a few months anyway.  But I have discovered that I am a sucker for Ralph Lauren Baby.  It's just sooooo soft, and I love how simple the designs are.  I just get so sick of otherwise cute baby clothing that the makers then inexplicably feel the need to applique some bizarre animal participating in a random sport on... like a platypus playing badminton or something.  I can't count the number of little boy outfits have a bear driving a car on them.  And I really didn't get the whole baby layette decorations.  Each of his little gowns and jammies was like the start of a corny joke (so a pig, a dog, and a duck get on a tractor...)  It's nice to have clothing with just one animal on it, a tasteful little polo pony.  Okay, enough ranting about that.

Words I never thought would cross my mouth, spoken less than 15 minutes ago:  "Was that a toot-toot or a poop-poop?"

AND...the world's most traumatic giving-up-the-pacifier story I have ever heard:
I was discussing the topic with one of my friends yesterday.  Some friends of ours came up with a very creative ceremony to send the pacifier away via balloon for babies to use (only the balloon got stuck in the tree across the road, but their daughter never noticed...ha ha!).  My friend mentioned that another friend of hers had her daughter give her paci to my friend's son who is a little older than the Pea.  Effective and the little girl gets to feel good about herself.  BUT...apparently, another friend of hers at work had a rough Christmas because she and her husband told their child that "baby Jesus needed her pacifier so she needed to give it up".  So the little girl spent the whole of the holidays angry with baby Jesus.  And Merry Christmas to you, too.

That's just wrong on so many levels that I don't even know where to start.

How Much is That Doggy in the Window?

Well, despite the fact that the Pea and Sonny are starting to interact a little more (if by interaction, you count Sonny licking the Pea while the Pea tries to grab Sonny's tongue), the dog is driving me crazy.

It's not that he's acting that much differently than he always has (albeit, a little more high-strung). It's just that right now, anything that comes between me and a little more sleep is the BANE OF MY EXISTENCE. Dog-licking his paws in bed...erghhh. Dog opening the Pea's nursery door and waking him in the middle of naps/just after he's gone to sleep for the night...arghhh. Dog scratching holes in the carpet at random odd times....aigghhhh!!! Dog peeing in the hallway as I'm getting ready to finally crawl into bed...ARE YOU KIDDING ME???

So we're medicating him. He's had problems with anxiety and obsessive-compulsive behaviors for awhile. It's just finally gotten bad enough lately to warrant a discussion with his vet. And I realize that the Dog Whisperer would be shaking his alpha dog head at me right now in disappointment, but y'know what? I'm not a dog trainer. I never will be. I don't want to get rid of our dog because he's sweet and wonderful in so many other ways. But something's gotta give.

Shark Jumpin' Friday

Okay, I'm all for treating animals ethically and with respect, but, PETA, I am putting you on notice. You have officially jumped the shark. Oh, I'm sorry. I mean, you have officially jumped the furious sea kitten.

On a not-completely-unrelated side note, I've finally found my fish. I kept trying to make myself like tilapia (plech) and salmon (ehh). MAHI MAHI!! I love you, mahi mahi.

While I Still Can...

There will come a day in the not-so-distant future when I can't dress my son in adorably humiliating outfits without him protesting.

Until that day, I give you...

SOCK MONKEY!!!!

(and super shout-out to "Aunt" Jaime and "Uncle" Craig for the oh-so-awesome sock monkey ornament which is now hanging in the Pea's nursery)

In Which I Chill Out About Naps

Sleep has been my "thing" with the Pea.  Growing up, waking a sleeping baby was a the cardinal sin in our household.  My little sister is 7 years younger than me, so I have no idea how Mom managed to pull that one off, but she did.  And I have my own sleep issues (I'm too lazy to look up all my past posts on my weird, hypnagogic hallucination sleeping issues, so just trust me on this one.  On top of the hallucinations, I've always leaned towards insomnia as well, even as a child).  All this adds up to me being more than just a little obsessive about all things sleep-related.

So I was sooooo proud and smug when my son started sleeping through the night around 9 weeks old.  Ha!  HA!!!  I've decided that if you ever need a dose of humility, just announce that your infant is sleeping through the night.  Because if there's anything I've learned, it's this:  It's not YOU!  It's him (or her).  I had to accept that if his sleeping through the night was somehow a testament to my fabulous parenting skills, then his new waking is a testament to my lack thereof, and I haven't changed.  He's still a decent sleeper...this is not a complaint post.  He goes to bed early without too much fussing.  I just realized that I can't say he's sleeping through the night anymore.  His wake up has slowly drifted a half hour earlier and earlier from 6:00 a.m. until last night, he hit 12:30.  It was so subtle and slow that I didn't even realize it at the time.  Up until a week or so ago, I was still answering "yes" to the often-asked "through the night" question.  Then I realized, "No.  No, he isn't."  When did that start happening?  And I can trace it to the epic hotel stay of 2008.  If I was crammed into an uncomfortable mini pack & play for a week straight, I'd want to wake up at 3:00 a.m. and yell at someone about it, too.

But I realized that I'd gotten a little too obsessive about the naps, specifically about getting him onto a napping schedule.  I kept trying to push back his first nap closer and closer to 9 a.m.  And I was trying to stretch out his awake time to get closer and closer to 1 p.m. for his 2nd nap, per Weissbluth's ideal nap schedule.  The result?  The Pea getting overtired and turning into Mr. Cranky Pants, making it harder and harder for him to fall asleep for those naps and making those naps shorter and shorter.  So yesterday, I decided, "Ehh...maybe some babies can handle staying up that long at 4 1/2 months.  Mine can't."  And there were no nap-time battles.  His first yawn, I whisked him to his room, read a book, sang "You Are My Sunshine" and announced, "It is time for you to take a nap."

No fussing.  He just...went to sleep.

Let the Pea take note:  I am not bragging about this as a parenting skill!  There is no need to prove me wrong.