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.

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.

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.

Frenemy

So who knew that pregnancy was going to bring a new enemy/best friend into my life? And that frenemy is...food.

Let me preface by saying that food was never really something that I gave much thought to in my life before that second line appeared. I'm not trying to say that I didn't have my body image issues like any All-American Girl, but "food" was just not really something that I dwelled on throughout the day. Kind of like "House" on Fox. It's not really a T.V. series that I give much thought to, but if I'm in the mood to watch a show and I'm flipping through the channels when it's on, I'll stop and watch it.

I've gone through periods of my life where I feel guilt about not eating healthy foods, and I try to remedy the situation. But again, when it's not something that you particularly think about all that much, such intent focus tends to fall by the wayside rather rapidly.

Well, enter Lil' Pea stage left (a.k.a. the world's most beloved, adorable and efficient parasite). All of a sudden, food is an obsession. Am I eating the right amounts of protein? Too much fat? Too little fat? The right vitamins? Did I remember my prenatal vitamin? Am I gaining too much? Too little? When was the last time I ate? Do I need to have a little snack?

But here's what has contributed to the "frenemy" label: at any given moment, I feel simultaneously (to quote my mother) "stuffed to the gills" and "starved off the pockets". Like right now, my tummy is saying, "Oooh...I could go for some Sun Chips", but there's this other part of my tummy (the part that is pushing acid into my throat 24/7) that is saying "Hmmmm...if you eat one more bite, you will either explode or dissolve into a pool of stomach acid."

Adventures in Budgeting

I remember my mom and dad telling me stories growing up of when Dad was in med school and they were newlyweds and so poor that they had to take a clicker counter with them to the grocery store. Once they had clicked their quota of dollars, either stuff had to start going back on the shelves or they had to just stop shopping. It made an impression on me, and even though Bill and I have a more substantial budget than they did back in 1970, I felt the call of the clicker. I just felt like every time I went to Wal-Mart, I was playing Russian roulette at the checkout line...how much would it be? Would I hear the "click" of $57 or the "bang" of $190. And I've gotta tell you, when you get to choose between 2 clicks for Green Giant corn and 1 click for Great Value, it makes you really stop and think, "Hmmm...how many places can corn come from? Iowa or Iowa?"

Bill and I have read several personal finance books lately, and (a) it makes me want to write my own personal finance book and (b) it truly makes you stop and think about that can of corn. That 1 click in the IRA could be worth 100's in 30 years.

On a completely separate note, I give you...

Top 5 Reasons Why Rachel Ray Annoys the Snot out of Me:
5. That laugh...that laugh

4. The fact that her show is called "30 Minute Meals" and I have yet to see one recipe that I could prepare in less than an hour

3. The way that she squeezes lemons and tells you how to squeeze them. every. single. time.

2. The fact that she assumes that people have things like roasted red peppers, porcini mushrooms, and capers sitting around in their pantry

1. The number of times in any given episode that she refers to extra virgin olive oil as "EVOO" and the sheer number of recipes that she puts it in (i.e. everything)

And yet for some masochistic reason, I still watch her show occasionally. Well, I know the reason--her recipes aren't all horrible. Some are quite delish.


OH, and Lil' Pea update: It's a boy! And he's kicking up a storm. I felt it on the outside the other day. It was a like a scene from Star Trek.

There and Back Again

Well, I was in Arizona last week visiting my parents, and it was the most beautiful weather I've experienced in a long time. Cool in the mornings, warm in the afternoons (okay, some days, it was HOT), 0 humidity, wispy white clouds in the sky. Very nice. I approve of the desert. My parents are having a great time there. They got a Harley, claim that they are acclimated to the heat, and a new Target opened up in their town. What more can you want?

But seriously, it is hard having them on the other side of the country. And it's hard having Bill's family on the other other side of the country. I know that we both experience that feeling at the end of trips to visit our families (when we travel without each other) where it's like hitting a brick wall...I miss my spouse, I miss my dog, I miss my friends, but I also know that in just a few days, I'll be missing my parents, my sister (although my little sister is on the other other other side of the country so her visits will be taking place here for awhile especially with Lil' Pea in me).

So that's just lots of rambling to say that I miss my side of the family and Bill's side of the family, yet the air travel to get to said families has put a big X on any trips for the next year or so. It's hard enough taking a baby on a plane when it's inside you. Forget about it when the other passengers can hear the cries, smell the poops, and germs don't get filtered through my immune system first.

On a completely unrelated note, have you been to my sister Ellen's Etsy shop? So far, she is selling these adorable portraits for parents adopting from China, but there's a rumor (okay, I'm starting it, but I've already discussed this with her) that she'll be selling other children's portraits soon as well as little ornaments, her cartoons, and other fun stuff. And, yes, I still have plans to start up my own Etsy shop (I even have username set up). However, I'm just now getting over the nausea phase of pregnancy, so I'm just now feeling back to my self and creative. I'll keep you updated and even add "Etsy" as a blog post label. :)

Welcome to the Shire

Yes, pregnancy has turned me into a Hobbit, at least for the first trimester (which I recently said au revoir to and, to be honest, will not miss).

So, yeah, pretty much, right after breakfast, I'm like, "But what about 2nd breakfast? Elevensies? Lunch? Snack? Supper? Dinner?"

I don't know if I've ever blogged about this before, but Bill and I have decided that during pregnancy, the Puppy Rule is more important than ever. Basically, we both realized after about a year of marriage, that the way to keep me happiest was to think of my needs as a puppy's.

Karen is happiest when:
1. Fed
2. Well-Rested
3. Feeling safe
4. Being snuggled
5. Dry
6. Feeling loved
7. Warm

Typically, all or almost all of these conditions are being met. Occasionally, several of them aren't. I can only think of one time that every single condition was being broken at once. That was in New York around this time last year, when Bill and I were there over St. Patrick's Day. I shall not speak of that trip anymore other than to say that, at one point, it felt like someone had come and stepped on my tail.

Fast forward to now, I just have to say that I have the best husband in the world. He doesn't complain about the pillow fortress of solitude that I have set up in the bed, leaving him about 6 inches to sleep on. He, at one point, stopped at 2 separate fast-food restaurants on the way to church for me to get breakfast biscuits. He scooped all of Sunny's poo out of the yard for the past 2 months. He went to stay at my parents' when he came down with a cold recently to try to keep me from getting sick. He's just wonderful.

And this Hobbit/Puppy is very thankful for him.

It's been awhile...

Sorry for the blog silence. I've been in one of those periods of my life where I didn't really want to get on my blog and say, "Not much is up" (a blatant lie), but I wasn't quite ready to get on my blog and say,

"I AM PREGNANT!!!!" (a beautiful truth)

Yep. I've got a plum-sized little person in me. It's been a long, long road, but somehow, I have this gut-feeling that when we meet Lil' Pea in person, I'm going to say, "OH! That's what the wait was for. Thank you, God." I'm already convinced that he or she is the smartest, most fabulous, best embryo (almost a fetus!) ever. I wish I could just hook up an ultrasound machine in my living room and take a peek at him/her whenever I felt like it. :)


This picture is of the first pregnancy test that I took. It's uber-darker now.

And the World's Ugliest Turkey Award goes to...

me.

So I had some dear friends over on Monday: Jason and Jaime, Shelli and Justin, Meg and Chris, Dave and Sarah. And I was in charge of the turkey. One thing.

I roasted it upside down.

It tasted okay, but imagine this scenario:

Justin (kindly carving the turkey)--Hey, heh heh, this turkey doesn't seem to have too much meat on it.

Bill--Hmm, maybe that spot, or that spot.

Justin (beginning to sound really worried looking at the 2 cups total of turkey meat on the platter)--Umm, no, it really doesn't seem to have much meat on it.

Bill--What on earth? Karen?

Me--I bought a 20 pound Butterball! Oh, no, I bought a dud turkey!

Justin--No, wait. It's just upside down.

That's right. My mom forgot to mention that very key step...Make sure that the turkey is right side up. (But she and my friend Sara did a shout-out job of teaching me how to season and prepare it!)

At Sara's Request

I have been formally asked, on this blog and in person, to update my blog.

Here's the problem...not much to talk about. Things are going pretty well here. I visited my new nephew in Atlanta. He's stinkin' adorable, but he's developed some bad acid reflux, and my sister-in-law is at the end of her rope. Thankfully, my mom-in-law and Nana (well, Bill's Nana, but I claim her with full Nana status) are headed over to watch baby Myles tonight so Julie can head over to a friend's house to get some sleep overnight. I'm hope-hope-hoping that she gets a good, full night's sleep and every thing is a little bit better in the morning.

I am instigating a new meal-planning system for Bill and myself, complete with charts and recipes set out in advance and paying attention to (but not obsessing over) nutrition. It's a brave new world, but (a) both of our eating habits are not great and need to improve, (b) our grocery budget is ridiculously high and then I end up not making half the meals I had planned out so that needs to change, and finally (c) I've gotta get a handle on this before we start a family and things go really haywire. I'll never have more spare time and energy than I do right now. [Sorry for the world's longest run-on sentence, my grammar police friends].

Let's see...what else? Oh, I'm going to start selling these little wall plaques and door hangers that I've been making on etsy.com. It may not happen until after Christmas, but I'm very excited about it nonetheless. I'll keep my readership posted on that!

leapin' lizards!!

So I was on a walk the other day, and suddenly, I felt a bug (or so I thought) fly onto the back of my neck when I walked past a grove of trees. I grabbed said bug (or so I thought) and threw it on the ground. It was a big-feeling bug, and my first thought was "dragonfly??" so I looked on the ground. There sat a tiny, tiny lizard.

I checked to make sure he was not injured. He was not. He went on his merry way, and I went on mine.

Note of Explanation/Hooray, Bill!

First of all, I would like to say that it has been brought to my attention that my last post may have made it sound like I was being snarky about or even contemptuous of the big chicken of Marietta. I was certainly not attempting to do that. I have nothing but affection in my heart for the big chicken. Continued affection that I feel time and again as it is pointed out to me by my husband each and every time we drive past it on I-75.

Speaking of my husband, huzzah huzzah for him running a local 5K benefitting Habitat for Humanity. Yay, Bill!!!!

New York.


Paris.


London.


Marietta.