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.

The Great Equalizer

-You may co-sleep or your child may have been in a crib from day one.

-You may send your kid to public school, private school, home school, or you may have apprenticed him out to a shoemaker.

-You may be a member of La Leche League or you may have a love-hate relationship with your bottle sterilizer.

-You may feed on demand or you may have been working on getting your child on a schedule in the hospital.

-You may have had an oopsie or you may have struggled with years of infertility.

-You may have been at your child's birth or you may have travelled to the other side of the world to first see your child's smile.

-Your child may know every song ever sung and danced to on the Backyardigans or you may not own a toy that doesn't have the Mensa stamp-of-approval.

-Your child may be in jammies from Wal-Mart, Baby Gap, or Nordstrom when it happens...


But as I discovered this morning, every woman earns her mom stripes with her first blow-out diaper.  (Although, after this morning, I must say...Praise God for sleep sacks and giving me a strong stomach!)

I See a 6 Percent Commission in Your Future...

Okay, world's worst marketing ploy ever:

I opened up our mailbox earlier this week, and there sat a little box.  A present?  For me?  But then, I flipped it over to see who it was from, and it was from Stupid Local Realtor (not the actual name, but it might as well have been).  So I opened it with mild curiosity only to discover...a fortune cookie.  Really, Stupid Local Realtor?  Really??  This struck me as dumb for so very many reasons--

reason (a.) Fortune cookies immediately make me think of leaving things to chance or luck.  Is that really the message you want to send a potential client?  "Hey, list your house with us and you might get lucky and sell it!"
reason (b.) Bill and I just moved into our house a year and a half ago.  What possible database of potential buyers or sellers could we be in?
reason (c.) The postage alone on the thing was $1.54.  The message inside the cookie (which was something stupid like, "See good fortune in your future by calling www dot StupidLocalRealtor dot com") was customized, not to mention the packaging and man hours to send it.  Each little cookie had to represent something like $3-$4 when all was said and done.  Again...really, Stupid Local Realtor?  Really??
reason (d.)  I do not eat unsolicited food that I receive in the mail.  Not that I've received much or any unsolicited food in the mail (unless you want to count the pickle slice stunt that my friend Clayton pulled in college when he was running for Student Body President).


Okay, I'm done ranting.  Except for one completely unrelated rant...my hair is falling out.  I guess it's just the post-partum hormone plunge, but seriously, I'm shedding like a lap dog.

Shark Jumpin' Friday

I would just like to say that Bill and I were mocked, nay, ridiculed by our friends and "loved" ones when we came up with this very same idea (only with pee pee pads, kitty litter and a small sandbox) for the Santino a few years ago, but someone is now marketing it for $39.95. I should note that it didn't actually work. Sunny eventually just started sleeping in the sandbox, and we used the kitty litter to sop up the urine on the garage floor.

I'm putting this under the Shark Jumpin' category because:
a.) it is ridiculous.
b.) it is overpriced.
c.) it holds "up to a gallon" of urine "allowing multiple uses". Blech.

It's a Small, Small World

Okay, I'm going to have to get over my obsession with my sitemeter, looking at locations of people who've read my blog.  But, c'mon!  How cool is it that I had people reading my blog from Finland, Israel, and Italy yesterday??  And while my Finnish knowledge is a bit limited (so, so sadly to pretty much what I've learned watching Conan O'Brien's educational snippets from his trip to Finland to meet with President Halonen to whom he has a surprising resemblance...see below), hyvää päivää  to you!

Also, dang American squirrels!  They really are quite aggressive.  I wanted to petition to have our college mascot changed to "The Fighting Squirrels" because the squirrels on campus were so mean and belligerent.



ETA:  Heavens to Betsy--my international readership has grown immensely in just the last few hours.  My U.S. readers are down to 79%.  I'm going to need to give a shout-out in every native language.  I'm just like that.  Here we go:
To my Finnish reader(s?), hyvää päivää.  To my Malaysian friends, selamat tengah hari.  For those from Israel, Shalom.  Hola, those from Chile, Spain, or Venezuela (apologies if I messed it up in your dialect).  Ciao, my Italian friends (my older sister actually lived in Florence for a year).  Szia, to those of you from Hungary.  Grüß Gott, my Austrian friends.  Hmmm...India...tricky...I think that this might be my cousin and his wife or one of my friends who lives in India, so I'm just going to say "hi".  And the same to my Canadian and UK readership.

And now the Pea is awake.

Goats for Hire

I always love to hear interesting, quirky things about other places in this world. Especially from new transplants to the area, for example...my little sister living in Washington state. Other people I know who live in the Pacific Northwest (who have lived there their whole lives) just take certain things for granted. Like slugs and the weather. But Sara is an observer, and I just loved hearing some of her stories over Christmas.

One that I particularly loved is that there is a blackberry overgrowth in her area, and people (even the public parks system, etc.) hire other people's goats to come and eat the blackberry bushes and keep them at bay. All the more reason for Bill to finally let me get a baby goat.

The Pea is currently lying in his crib, happily fighting a nap, cooing and squealing. Here are some Christmas shots:

Hello, feet.

So there is a new obsession in our household, and it is the Pea's feet (his obsession, not mine...although they are pretty dang cute). And when I stopped and thought about it, yeah, if I woke up one day and had suddenly discovered a new body part, I'd be pretty obsessed with it, too. Oh, the joy when I take him out of his sleep sack and, behold, there are his feet again! Pure, unadulterated joy.

Blehh.

Well, some nasty little germ/virus has invaded our household, and Bill, the Pea and I are all sick, along with Aunt Sara. And Sonny's even been cranky for the last couple days. Naps are currently in shambles, and I'm just utterly exhausted. Blehh.

On a bright note, the Pea has discovered his feet big-time, and they are his new favorite thing ever. Especially while changing his diaper. All of a sudden, putting a new diaper on him is like trying to wrestle a gleeful, spastic chipmunk.

And on an even brighter note, Aunt Sara has been taking some awesome pictures. I'll post some once they get downloaded.

Shark Jumpin' Friday

Oh, no no no. Phantom of the Opera is poised to jump the shark...big time. Some might argue that Gerard Butler was riding that motorcycle with Emmy Rossum in a sidecar when it jumped. But, no, I'd have to say it's going to jump over Coney Island.

And so I give you a little song my husband wrote to commemorate the occasion, sung to the tune of "That's All I Ask of You":

No more talk of nachos

Forget your wild-eyed beans

I'm here...nothing will harm you

These rides will twist and turn you

Let me buy you soft drinks

Let me dry your spills

You're safe...each ride's inspected

From "The Rocket" to "Satan's Rejected"

Then saaaaaaaaaaaaay you'll ride with me

You're at least forty inches

Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeet me hold your purse and sun-glasses......

Share each picture with me...snapped on each ride

That's all I ask of you.

Oi.

Well, the Pea had some shots yesterday, and heavens to betsy, that child did not feel well today and let me know it.  He pretty much fussed from the second he got up until the second he went to bed.  At one point, he was oscillating rapidly between laughing and crying when my little sister was singing songs from "Oklahoma!" to him.  Poor thing didn't know which end was up.

But, at the same time, I praise God for vaccines.