Random useless tidbits

Since it is supposed to be somewhat fall-like outside this weekend (sunny but crisp), T and I thought we might take a trip to Klackle Apple Orchard. While a bit further away, it is one rockin' orchard. We're talking apples, pumpkins, cider, doughnuts, hayride and petting zoo (Purell, please!).

Upon checking out their website to see what their hours are this weekend, I saw the following:

"Elephant and Camel Rides are not included in the price of Admission (Pay at Vendor)."

Besides the random use of capital letters, why are there elephants and camels at an orchard?

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I just had the random desire to make a diorama.

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I made a sausage penne dish last night that seriously rocked. I even wore my apron to make it. Am trying a sweet potato risotto later this week. T is befuddled and yet excited about this sudden turn in cooking.

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If you happen to have a baby that is 3 months and 3 weeks old and want a good cry, put "4 month wakeful period" in the Google Box. Not encouraging, my friends. E, however, is bucking the trend and getting back on track.

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I will not be putting out pumpkins until the last possible minute this fall. The squirrels treat them like crap and leave them looking a hot mess.

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Despite having a nightmare-esque dream the other week about being pregnant ("NOOOOO!!!"), I have decided the following: E would get big boy furniture and move into a different bedroom. New Baby (or NB) would get E's existing nursery furniture and we'd redecorate the room with Charley Harper prints. Something I'd wanted to do with E's room, but decided against.

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With the approach of solids for E, I feel like I should get him some snazzy plates and bowls. Actually, check out E's La Plate link to the left. Or perhaps this is more reasonably priced.

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And I leave you with a bath time pic of E...

Do you know the Muffin Man?

E is taking antibiotics for his ear infection and the doctor warned us that "frequent bowel movements" are a side effect. I let the doctor know that E is sometimes constipated, so this could all shake out perfectly.

So, I warned Daycare that things might take a turn for E's guts. Even brought in extra-extra clothes just in case.

Turns out he needed them.

Turns out Daycare instead put him in the clothes that I left in his cubby almost two months ago. They were a little snug. In fact, the pants looked like tights.

And gave him muffin top.

The evidence:

Oh, snap!

Good morning, sunshine

3:11am--Put pacifier back in; hear perhaps the rumblings of stomach

3:52--Crap. Literally. There's poo on the jammies, burrito and the bouncer.

4:20--E all clean and eating bottle.

4:22--Projectile hork all over nightstand, library book, arm of the chair, my leg and E

4:23--E smiles

4:40--E all clean and in crib

5:20--Hear E chatting over monitor; wait to see if he passes back out

6:00--No; head downstairs to play

7:15--E eating bottle

7:30--E passed out

9:00--Hear E chatting over monitor; poke T in the back--his shift now

10:00--Stumble downstairs, cringe at sight of T's shirt, wonder where E's clothes are and determine they've been up to no good.

10:15--Send T out for coffee


And so the day begins.




Holy suspicious, Batman.

Love/hate Friday

Love: This ginormous chocolate chunk cookie staring at me from my desk. Am trying to get some work done before diving into.

Hate (but actually funny): Asking this of T at dinner last night, "Is this a layer of fat or a layer of cheese?" We both stared at it until I coaxed T into a nibble. It was fat. Bummer.

Love: Fall. Crunchy leaves, doughnut holes, long sleeves for E.

Hate: Am nervous about new hair. So much easier, but less cute, to stay with old hair.

Love: Boss is out of office today. Am much more productive.

Hate: Candidates who try to give a debate the slip.

Love: Perhaps this for E.

Hate: E is sickly. As in cough, ear infection and a drippy nose. God love him, you wouldn't know it by looking at him. He's all smiles and chatting and little ninja legs.

Love: The jerry-rigged burrito T made last night. Because of his cough, Doctor (who is fabulous and I who may invite to come live in our attic) recommended that E sleep in his bouncer in his crib so that he's a little elevated. So then it was the Great Debate: Burrito or No Burrito? Bouncer safety strap or no safety strap? As a gal who likes to have it all, we went with both. T cut little slits into the cloth between where E's would be and we were able to stuff the strap up and through and buckle him in. While burritoed. Holla.

Hate: That I'm missing Science Friday on NPR because my radio is all staticky.

Love: That I can get the CBS soap operas on the TV band of the radio. So dramatico.

Wednesday at a glance

What we've deemed the "daycare nap."--it's just enough to take the edge off during the car ride home.



Hanging out in the grass with my fabulous friend A.



The bedtime book...

The current state of things

For as often as I think about how I'd like to get more sleep and lose my squishy midsection, I do realize that I've got it pretty good. No, I've got it great. E is a good baby. I feel like we lucked out when it came to Baby Temperament Options. T is all-hands-on-deck, all the time and is great with letting me sleep in and do things with my friends in exchange for a nap and some time with his friends at ESPN. My parents like to smuggle E away from us whenever possible and consistently help out one day a week when work schedules are nutty. I have help cleaning my house and grocery shopping--and jobs that we like, no less, that allow us to pay for these luxuries.

I guess the point I'm trying to make (mainly for myself, really)--is: Seriously, sleep? It could be a lot worse.

Really, lady, stop your complaining.

E tidbits

Some random things that E has been up to:

• Grabbing his feet and toes
• Rolling over from his tummy to his back
• Accidentally (or was it?) sneezing into my mouth. And then my ear.
• Using the exer-saucer at daycare
• Growing out of his 3 month clothes
• Discovering a love for country music and Cat Stevens/Yusuf Islam
• Deciding that the carseat is his nemesis
• Owning his first Halloween costume (Banana won by a landslide)
• And looking like a little man sporting this (with pants!) for his pics in a few weeks:

In other Household tidbits: I am cutting off all my hair on Friday and getting new glasses on Saturday (New and Improved K!). I've also decided to crack out the Townie after work and take it for a spin. The last time I rode it I was seven months pregnant and T freaked out that I was riding my bike. Whatever. It was more comfortable than walking.

Live long and prosper

Despite wanting to be Uhura when I was younger (umm...hello?--those sassy boots and miniskirt? Sign me up!), I'm not really a Trekkie. These, however, are hilarious...

Nice is nice...or...Is the grass greener?

Back when we were child free, T and I tried to squeeze in as many trips as possible. Wine tasting in Napa Valley, tagging along to conferences in Boston, weekends in Chicago and a mega trip of a cruise around Spain, France and Italy. The cost of that cruise was ridiculous and Suze Orman probably would have recommended that we put it into our 401Ks or E's college fund, but it was something that I never regret spending the money on. It was three weeks of just T and I seeing brand new things together, navigating foreign languages and being bewildered as to why the Spaniards eat so much damn pork (it was the pork, incidentally, that drove us into the welcoming arms of the Barcelona McDonald's).

What's interesting is that all through this trip we were feeling a little mopey that we'd yet to get pregnant. I don't think, at least for me, that it tainted the trip at all--but it definitely lingered in the back of our minds.

What's funny is that I now wonder, brown baby part of the family, will we ever get to go on those kind of trips again? Will it have to wait until we're 6O and E has left for college? (Actually, in 18 years--I'll be a sassy 50).

In the meantime, I stare at this picture of T and I in Nice and hope that we're able to take a trip together again sometime soon.

10 Things I Could Not Live Without--Pregnancy/Baby version

A list of things that I discovered while pregnant and in wrangling a new baby that I could not have lived without:

1. Burt's Bees Belly Butter---made the itching and increasing ridiculousness of my waistline so much more comfortable
2. a body pillow--not so much for sleeping, but for propping me up on the couch
3. Baby Bjorn--oh, the baby backpack, how I love you. It is so handy. I started putting E in it after only a week. Not only so we could take walks but also so I could get things done around the house. And it seriously knocked him out.
4. the Boppy--it wasn't super stellar for nursing (a little floppy) but it's perfect for holding a baby, supporting your arms and being able to prop him up on the floor
5. SwaddleMe blankets by Kiddopotamus--there are no words to express my love for the burrito.
6. "Happiest Baby on the Block" by Dr. Harvey Karp--the best book to explain why your baby is wigging out and what you can do about it.
7. "Caring for Your Baby and Young Child: Birth to Age 5" by the American Academy of Pediatrians--it covers everything and is sort of like the Bible
8. Our super cushy chair for the nursery--I've spent more time in this piece of furniture in the last four months than I even care to think about. It was worth shelling out the money for.
9. A CD of white noise--rain falling, water trickling, whatever. It helps E sleep and knocks out the noise of us downstairs. Incidentally, T tried jazz things up one night by putting in Gregorian monks chanting (I don't know) but E and I just stared at it and switched back to rain falling. The monks were creepy and not at all soothing.
10. A rockin' husband--mainly the reason I've made it through 9 months of pregnancy and 4 months of baby is because T kicks ass and takes names. I know they don't sell these, but I highly recommend getting one of these types of husbands before venturing down this path.

Love/hate Friday

Love: Strawberry Newtons

Hate: Fig Newtons. Figs, prunes, raisins and dried peaches creep me out.

Love: My new role at Workplace. New challenges, even more low key.

Hate: I just discovered this in a meeting...apparently, one of our part-time staff sent a rather bitter and--in my opinion--too honest email to our boss wondering why I got the job and she didn't. Why was I moved into this position when I don't have two degrees (incidentally, she doesn't either) and didn't focus on legal materials in grad. school? Holy Bitter, Batman. Thing is--this person is nice to me and even congratulated me when I started. So...either she's let it go OR she's not to be trusted.

Love: T, who is a charts and graphs whiz AND can do math, is suddenly in high demand by other workplaces. Perhaps I won't have to win that Mega Millions.

Hate: I cannot decide whether or not to cut my hair even shorter. Not digging current cut but am scared to regret major change if I do whack it all off.

Love: Umm...E rolled over on Wednesday. I KNOW! I mean, I kind of gave him a nudgey but he flipped right over on his own. I, of course, went ape and clapped and jumped up and down like a mad-woman.

Hate: I also clap when he poops (hombre is a little constipated, so this is kind of big deal in our house). I clap for poop. This is the path I'm now on. It can only get worse once he starts potty training. Then I'll be clapping AND giving treats for poop. Crikey.

Love: That it's the weekend even though this means that I no longer get to do any of the following: sleep in with T, go out to breakfast with T and focus on each other and our eggs, grocery shop at a leisurely pace, run errands whenever I want, go to bed later than 9pm, go to movies, shower AND shave my legs (it's either or now), etc.

And despite nixing or revising all of the above activities in some way--I still get to say "Good morning!" to a little boy who smiles at me each time I see him, kiss his little neck as we open the curtains in the morning, take fun pictures of the two brown men in my life and sleep harder than I ever used to.

It all shakes out.

A photo retrospective of "Lounging with Lion"

2 months



3 months 2 weeks

Think he'll let me drape him over the lion when he's 13?

One MEEE-LLLION dollars

If I won the Mega Millions Jackpot from the lottery, this is what I would do--in this order:

1. Crap my pants
2. Change pants
3. Call T and wig out
4. Call Workplace--tell them that I'm going to be late. Perhaps they shouldn't expect me that day. Or any other day. Just kidding. I've actually given this a lot of thought. Quit job and never go back? Quit job but give two weeks notice? Keep job? The thing is, filling positions at my job takes longer than two weeks. Plus it's not as if the State gives you the big check (and I mean the BIG check--I want to deposit the one that requires two people to hold. Heh.) right away. So, what I'd do is give 30 days notice. Just enough time to get the man-size check while also looking like a Johnny Dogooder by continuing to work. It's all in the plan.
5. After calling Workplace, call parents and wig out all over again.
6. Go to work but not really concentrate as I am suddenly rich and fabulous.
7. Call my other friend J and rediscuss plans to become stay-at-home-moms/socialites. See if this works for their new budget.
8. Pay off house and all other outstanding bills. Perhaps not cars as they may be getting upgraded. Although, maybe not. I like driving the BunRab--not sure I'd want something flashier (that wouldn't even fit into our garage anyway). I would, however, buy this to supplement the VW.
9. So, job: check. bills: check. D'oh!...
10. ...Hire financial manager, accountant and attorney.
11. Set-up trust fund for E.
12. Set-up trust fund for Nephew's education.
13. Warn bank that man-size check will be coming soon and checking/savings account will now mean business.
14. Cancel E's stay at daycare. With new found wealth, he and I and T will be hanging out together and having adventures.
15. Call favorite travel agent and tell her to start crack a lackin' on the luxury trips. Plan to take entire family (T's family then my family) on a trip.
16. Perhaps buy this instead for T, E and I to travel around the United States so that the Holy Grail of Sleep isn't disturbed too much.
17. Then the house. Where do I even start? I'd buy furniture for the sunporch, new windows, a new roof, have the garage re-done, landscape the backyard, get new kitchen counters, finish the entryway, have the attic finished off, buy a new mattress for T and I blah blah blah.

So, just to recap: Bills have been paid, E's future taken care of, job notified, professionals hired, trips planned, house spruced up...what else? Oh, I'd probably hire a full-time cook and maybe a personal trainer. That way we'd all eat healthier and look fabulous (minus E who's diet of soy formula and daily exercise of kicking legs fast and furiously seems to be working well for him). Then E and I could spend our time hanging out in the yard, going to swim classes, getting books at the library, drinking iced mochas and hanging out at home. I'd do volunteer work at the public library and get my nails done. T would build his school in Uganda and I'd stock it with books and craft supplies. Not a bad life, really.

Of course, I dig the life I have now--so if this doesn't pan out, I'm cool with that.

His father's son

Miscelleneous

From this weekend...

Is it possible to be proud of a 4 month old? Not just proud to be his mom or proud of how freaking cute he is but actually proud of his behaviour? This weekend we visited (is "visited" an actual word?--It never feels right on the tongue.) a bunch of family on the other side of the state. This meant multiple new faces and people pawing at E for hours on end. Homeboy was a trooper. Smiled, talked, snuggled and was just a Mellow Marvin. Plus he spent a total of 4 hours in the car, there and back. It wasn't until we were about 30 minutes from home that he kind of lost his cool, but even that only lasted for 10 minutes. I'm proud that my son rolls with the punches. I hope that sticks with him.

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Perhaps a bit unfair, but Anna Nicole's daughter, Danielynn, creeps me out. I'm not sure why.


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Saw "The Women" this weekend and ate Mongolian BBQ with J, a fantabulous friend of mine since meeting up when were 11. She and I are going to see the Rockettes in November. J is also the same friend who saw "Dancing with the Stars LIVE!" with me. And "Chicago." And "The Adventures of Frog & Toad" at the Civic. And various other ticketed events. It's kind of looking like J is my Ticketmaster friend.

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What's more important?--to have well-manicured hands or well-manicured feet? Given heavy time constraints post-baby, I feel like I should just pick one instead of fitting both in like I did pre-baby. Heading into winter, I feel like hands might be the way to go since no one will see my feet for about seven months. Important decisions, I know.

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Lastly, I leave you with one of my favorite photos of E:




Over here, lady!

Love/hate Friday

Love: These rainy, cold, pre-fall days. Cozy without the threat of snow and ice.

Hate: The complete lack of productivity at work this week. Technically speaking, Workplace has compensated me to miss E, write blog posts, shuffle some papers, miss E some more, think about adopting a cat and mull over creating a budget for home. Yikes.

Love: The Kindle by Amazon. Am kind of considering asking for this for Christmas. How freakin' great would it be if I could just tote around the newspapers that I read and the stack of my books on my nightstand in one place?

Hate: Weighty decisions that T and I have had to make about going down to one income and having him become a stay-at-home dad.

Love: That he and I are able to discuss these things like people on the same team. It's nice being married to someone who listens and can articulate his feelings.

Hate: My waistline. It's a bit squishy. Note to self: stop eating Chips Ahoy at 10:00pm.

Love: Snort-laughing to old episodes of "Arrested Development" on hulu.com. I mean, really, Buster and his fear of the seal with the yellow bowtie? Ridiculous.

Hate: Am I, like, the last one to discover Google Reader? All blogs, all websites in one handy spot! No constant URL typing! Ah--love it!

Love: It's Friday and I am going to eat a cheeseburger for lunch.

Arrrrr, matey!

Awhile ago I was browsing through some photos we have saved on our computer and came across these gems from Christmas Eve 2007.

T can always be counted on to don a hat. In fact I have photos of him wearing, well, this pirate's hat, my swim cap from water aerobics, a chefs hat that he snatched from a catering guy at a wedding we went to and I think there might even be one of him in a cowboy hat--but I'm not sure.

In other related news, I have a bum eye so I may need to borrow that eye patch, Cap'n.

Judgey McJudgerstein

I get that every woman "does" pregnancy a bit differently. Some run marathons. Some are on bed rest. Some barely eat because they feel so sick and some double their body weight. Shoot, some women have the occasional glass of wine or bottle of Guinness as some doctors feel that this, in moderation, is okay.

Despite these different modes of operating for nine months, I kind of thought there was one given that all women--earth mamas and, well, whatever the opposite is of being an earth mama--accepted: You don't smoke. Word out on the street is that this is kind of bad for El Fetus.

Today I saw a way pregnant woman smoking. And I totally gasped out loud. And covered my hand with my mouth. Dramatic? Perhaps. But, dude, you're not SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!

I happen to loathe smelling like ciggies, but I get that people choose to light up and, you know, that's their deal.

But I just kind of got the rage (and the sadness) to think of the short shrift on life this baby (and she was uber pregnant so no "viable life" argument here) was getting on the inside before it even discovered how crappy life on the outside can sometimes be.

So, I put "smoking effects on fetus" in the Google Box and apparently these are the things that can happen when a woman smokes:

Placental abruption
Placental previa
Reduced blood flow to the uterus which can result in spontaneous abortion
Decreased oxygen flow due to carbon monoxide being present in the blood
Low birth weight
A higher than average likelihood of ADHD in the child
An increased risk for childhood leukemia and lymphoma
SIDS

Crikey!

If I'd been ballsier I might have said something (whatever might have been deemed appropriate--if such a thing exists--and, more importantly, kept me from getting my ass kicked), but as it was; I passed her while driving.

Here's hoping it was just one cigarette.

Scratch that

T just informed me that Candidate Chili Pepper has been removed from consideration. New on the ballot:



Pea pod

Decision 2008

This fall the K family will have to make an important decision that will have an impact on the years following.

That's right--E's first Halloween costume. The contenders?

Chili pepper?

Banana?

Houdini contained

BEFORE

AFTER

Ai yi yi

For someone who is occasionally obsessive-compulsive, the worst thing ev-ah is being able to track packages en route. Flashback to Feburary (aka The Baby Spending Spree of 2008) when T and I ordered baby furniture and the BMW of strollers. I logged on every two hours to see where the furniture and stroller were in the trek to our house (or, really, my Workplace since I didn't want our treasures sitting in the snow. Neglected. And cold.).

Oh, it's in California! San Diego to be exact!
Now it's in Amarillo!
Eeeek! FedEx in Grand Rapids!
Holy crap it's been delivered!!
(Race down to Workplace lobby to creepily wait for FedEx man.)

Anyway, back to present day, I've been refreshing the USPS website since ordering a monster sized burrito for E. He of super human strength is throwing elbows and knees out of his burrito (or this) at night. Elbows, knees out = E awake = jenky sleep for T & K. So, I ordered this. This thing will allow me to swaddle him forever. T's concern, "What if we keep burritoing him and it rolls around to sixth grade and everyone wonders why his arms are sealed to his sides? WHAT IF HE FORGETS HOW TO RAISE HIS ARMS OVER HIS HEAD?" Oh, my husband the Queen of Dramatics.

So this mega-sized burrito is indeed to seal back the Holy Grail of Sleep.

We're havin' Mexican tonight!

Sleep 2.0

Conversation this morning in the K household, "Can I get a show of hands from those who are beatdown tired?" Let me ruin the ending by telling you it was those taller than 24 1/4" who raised their hands.
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Yesterday was my late day at the Workplace. It's a day that has caused much finagling since I work until 9pm and T has a 5pm meeting each Wednesday on the other side of the state. Seeing as E can't sit on the curb in his carseat waiting for us, my mom has volunteered to pick him and hang out with him until T can pick him at 8:30pm. I'm happy that E can spend time with his grandma one-on-one, however, it does mean on this day messing with the Holy Grail. That is, a baby's nighttime sleep schedule. When E was small and I was home on maternity leave, I'd tote him anywhere and he'd just sleep when he was tired. However, now we've entered the age where he has sleep "particulars" (crib, "burrito"--swaddle, not Mexican--, perhaps a board book, etc.). Disturbing this Holy Grail--especially in the evening--means, much like it did for Indiana Jones; potentially melting faces in agony and the opening up of the heavens. I don't want to be one of those super rigid moms, but jenky sleep for E means jenky sleep for all. And while I know it's only one day out of the week, I already feel a hefty portion of guilt for keeping him from sleeping at home because I'm toting him to daycare where strangers-can-care-for-my-child-and-why-did-you-even-have-kids-if-you-were-going-to-have-someone-else-raise-them?

Ugh.
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I've decided that if Hell has a schedule, it is one that follows a nursing newborn. Waking up every hour and a half from a newborn crying over a monitor will have you start thinking Satan is running the show.

Remember that study that came out a few years ago reporting that women who don't have children allegedly live longer than those that do? Well, this is why. This will shave years off your life.

As I've told E many a time, "The only thing saving your bacon is that you're cute."

First of all...

So I've decided to start a blog--original, I know. Let me join the ranks of 15 bajillion other moms who write about their kids. Whatever.

I used to have this other mini-blog where I made lists. I'm a serious list maker. I mean, we're talking lists with little open boxes next to them where I can check off things with a red (not blue or black!) pen once the item has been completed. Anal much?

Anyway, here is a mom version of the love/hate lists I used to do.

Love: When E (of brown baby fame) wiggles with excitement when he first spots me in the morning

Hate: When this wiggling takes place at 4am

Love: E's little hamhock thighs

Hate: Hoisting him in the car seat. Sucka is heavy.

Love: Having lost all pregnancy weight before returning to work. Nursing is a serious calorie sucker. I may try to stick with it for longer with Numero Dos merely so I can consume copious amounts of frozen waffles.

Hate: Things on my body have shifted in a mysterious fashion. I guess really not that mysterious given that my waistline while pregnant defied gravity.

Love: Hearing this while T changed E's diaper early Saturday morning, "Dude, I am seriously afraid of what's in there."