“Do you ever get up before the kid does?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you wake up in the morning before he does?”
“Yea, but I go back to sleep until he wakes me up.”
“You can get so much done if you wake up before him.”
“I could but I could get so much done after he goes to sleep at night AND have you help me.”
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
A ferocious Beast
The other day my husband and I battled a ferocious beast. It was so horrible I had nightmares about it the next day. It all started when I went into the laundry room to reheat what was in the dryer so I can fold it all hot while watching my Law and Order finale’s. There it was not even two feet next to me and I swear it was the uglyest beast I have ever seen. Worst than the one I saw in College that the experts couldn’t even identify. We used to call them Rodney bugs because they were typically found in the Rodney dorms and they looked like a cross between a roach and a cricket and some other bug. That was so long ago.
The beast I found sitting silently in my laundry room was a big old nasty spider. It was sitting facing downward on a nicely folded blanket that I use to curl up infront of the TV with. I know it was waiting for me to get closer and attack me. That thing was vicious and absolutely ready to invade my home. It probably was calling its troops as I looked at it and screamed at the top of my lungs and backed away from it without taking my eyes off of it. The husband jumped up from his computer desk so fast it was amazing. He reacted as if I lit my hair on fire and couldn’t stifle the flames.
He asks me what happened and I tell him there is a humongous spider in there. I am jumping and cringing and getting all the heeby jeebies just telling him about it. He looks into the laundry room and he immediately freaks out. I am sure he was expecting one of those typical spiders that you find around the house that are not as scary in comparison and seem pretty easy to get rid of. But, nope. This one was big and hairy and grosser than the scene where Ben Stiiller gets his face squished on a hairy mans sweaty chest in “Along Came Polly”.
I immediately run for the camera to take a picture of it. The husband runs to the garage to find something to catch it with. It’s amazing how different our first instincts are. I go to take a picture while R digs for a tree trimmer and a clear box. R’s intentions were quite obvious but I had to get this picture. I had to show my bug expert and ask her what it was and WHY THE HELL WAS IT IN MY HOUSE??!! My poor friend has had to experience all my bug woes over the years but I think this time both R and I entertained her quite well.
I send the picture to my friend and call her. While we are on the phone R and I try to come up with a strategy on how to get it out of our home. My friend tells me that this is not a bug to fuck around with it, that we should just get rid of it. She goes on speakerphone while we gear up to battle the beast. We argue over who is going to nudge it and who will step on it. I could swear that for a good 10 minutes this was going on. And of course, the bug expert is on the line listening to us bicker at each other.
“You know I can’t go near spiders.”
“What? Neither can I.”
“Yes you can, your just making that up.”
“I was the one who found it, you get to kill it.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Yes it is.”
“We should capture it and study it.”
“What the hell for? Its big and disgusting and it has to die.”
So the husband holds the tree trimmer firmly and I am trying to hold the flashlight steady because you know by now the damn thing moved into the dark folds. I try to back away as far as I could in the room and R just kept pushing me forward because it was my job to step, capture or keep an eye on it. Whichever was needed. So as R is poking and prodding the hairy monster, it moves. It keeps moving even after we were able to get parts of it off. R started to beat the blanket and it finally stopped moving. It was in a whole bunch of pieces, on the blanket that was now on the floor. All while R was doing his thing with the tree shears I am squealing and freaking out and I actually believe R was too. You would have to ask my friend that was still on the speakerphone listening to our episode of “how not to kill a spider”.
After the massacre we carefully looked at all the pieces of that nasty monster on my beautiful blue snuggle blanket. R asked me what we are going to do with it and I immediately say,
“We are going to throw it out.”
“How are you going to get it off that blanket?”
“Are you kidding me, I’m not going to touch that thing again.”
“You mean your gonna throw the whole blanket away?”
“You bet your ass I’m throwing it away. Unless you want to sleep with it again?”
“Ill go get you a bag.”
It took a lot of maneuvering and a bit of bravery to get the bag over the blanket without touching anything. I did get that whole blanket in there and its ready for the garbage men to take the spider to its final resting place.
R and I went back to our computers. There is nothing like some couple bonding.
The beast I found sitting silently in my laundry room was a big old nasty spider. It was sitting facing downward on a nicely folded blanket that I use to curl up infront of the TV with. I know it was waiting for me to get closer and attack me. That thing was vicious and absolutely ready to invade my home. It probably was calling its troops as I looked at it and screamed at the top of my lungs and backed away from it without taking my eyes off of it. The husband jumped up from his computer desk so fast it was amazing. He reacted as if I lit my hair on fire and couldn’t stifle the flames.
He asks me what happened and I tell him there is a humongous spider in there. I am jumping and cringing and getting all the heeby jeebies just telling him about it. He looks into the laundry room and he immediately freaks out. I am sure he was expecting one of those typical spiders that you find around the house that are not as scary in comparison and seem pretty easy to get rid of. But, nope. This one was big and hairy and grosser than the scene where Ben Stiiller gets his face squished on a hairy mans sweaty chest in “Along Came Polly”.
I immediately run for the camera to take a picture of it. The husband runs to the garage to find something to catch it with. It’s amazing how different our first instincts are. I go to take a picture while R digs for a tree trimmer and a clear box. R’s intentions were quite obvious but I had to get this picture. I had to show my bug expert and ask her what it was and WHY THE HELL WAS IT IN MY HOUSE??!! My poor friend has had to experience all my bug woes over the years but I think this time both R and I entertained her quite well.
I send the picture to my friend and call her. While we are on the phone R and I try to come up with a strategy on how to get it out of our home. My friend tells me that this is not a bug to fuck around with it, that we should just get rid of it. She goes on speakerphone while we gear up to battle the beast. We argue over who is going to nudge it and who will step on it. I could swear that for a good 10 minutes this was going on. And of course, the bug expert is on the line listening to us bicker at each other.
“You know I can’t go near spiders.”
“What? Neither can I.”
“Yes you can, your just making that up.”
“I was the one who found it, you get to kill it.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Yes it is.”
“We should capture it and study it.”
“What the hell for? Its big and disgusting and it has to die.”
So the husband holds the tree trimmer firmly and I am trying to hold the flashlight steady because you know by now the damn thing moved into the dark folds. I try to back away as far as I could in the room and R just kept pushing me forward because it was my job to step, capture or keep an eye on it. Whichever was needed. So as R is poking and prodding the hairy monster, it moves. It keeps moving even after we were able to get parts of it off. R started to beat the blanket and it finally stopped moving. It was in a whole bunch of pieces, on the blanket that was now on the floor. All while R was doing his thing with the tree shears I am squealing and freaking out and I actually believe R was too. You would have to ask my friend that was still on the speakerphone listening to our episode of “how not to kill a spider”.
After the massacre we carefully looked at all the pieces of that nasty monster on my beautiful blue snuggle blanket. R asked me what we are going to do with it and I immediately say,
“We are going to throw it out.”
“How are you going to get it off that blanket?”
“Are you kidding me, I’m not going to touch that thing again.”
“You mean your gonna throw the whole blanket away?”
“You bet your ass I’m throwing it away. Unless you want to sleep with it again?”
“Ill go get you a bag.”
It took a lot of maneuvering and a bit of bravery to get the bag over the blanket without touching anything. I did get that whole blanket in there and its ready for the garbage men to take the spider to its final resting place.
R and I went back to our computers. There is nothing like some couple bonding.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
What chapter are we up to?
We have entered into a new and difficult stage in raising a child. We have gone through big bellies and birthing. We had a helpless infant that would eat, sleep and poop on a regular, hourly schedule. Sleepless nights and stinky spitup. We have been through the first tooth through the twentieth. Newborn diapers to size 6. Rolling, sitting, crawling, cruising and of course, first steps all the way to running faster than mommy could. Solid foods. First words. First haircut. Going to the zoo and even a trip to Disney World. The list can go on forever. Anyone with a child would know how I cried at every one of these events. Just thinking of all of these things even brings a tear to my eye. My baby, he is growing up.
My son happens to be the most independent person I know and probably will ever know. I can tell that already. When he was 10 ½ months, on December 21st 2004, he decided that he no longer wanted to breastfeed. We woke up and I did my usual routine with him. I get ready to feed him, latch him and he looks right up at me and… {BITE}. YOWCH! I wait a few minutes and through my tears of agony I try again. YOWCH again! I tried all day to get him to take the breast. I tried all week. I was more determined than a hungry lion staring at a zebra at the pond. J wanted nothing to do with it. J decided when he wanted to end the most intimate of mother-child relationships, no me. I was devastated. I, for once, at 10 ½ months, realized that my child was very independent and was growing up. I had to take a long deep breath. I also cried more than I should have.
J’s next step to independence just occurred a few weeks ago. One night as we were putting him to bed, he put his foot down and gave up one of the longest nights we have had in a long time. After bath, brushing his teeth, struggling with the diaper and his jimmies, J announced that he didn’t want to sleep in his crib.
“Mommay, nap floor.”
“You don’t want to sleep in your crib, Honeybear?”
“NO, NAP FLOOR!”
We would put him in the crib and he would scream as if I put him into a pool of hot lava. He was hysterical. It was horrifying. Hearing him plead with us because all he wanted was to sleep on the floor. We didn’t get it. We finally gave up and let him cry in his crib and he eventually did fall asleep that night. He woke up bright and early ready to get out of his confines of wooden bars.
Naptime was just as pretty. The crying and begging not to go into his crib was unbearable. Everything was thrown out and announced that THEY were sleeping on the floor. His Tigger doll, Mickey Mouse, Brown Bear Book, sippy cup, even his banana blanket all were ready to sleep on the floor. With or without him. After a very long struggle, I set up a makeshift bed on the floor next to his crib. He fell asleep instantly and slept there peacefully for his entire nap.
This is when I realized that my child, my baby, this being that was supposed to need me for everything and follow my every direction is not going to. He wasn’t going to sleep in his baby crib for the rest of his life like I had planned. He decided he was ready to be ‘out of the crib’. He was making his next step to be as far away from my womb as possible. He slept on the floor for a few days until we ran out and got him a big boy twin bed. I spent a fortune on cool bedding from Pottery Barn and he has been great in it ever since. He doesn’t even get out of it in the morning when he wakes up. He still lays in bed and plays with his dolls and books and anything else I leave in his bed for him. I hear him playing with his Baby Tad doll that sings a few notches way too high and he will sing ‘Gymbo, swish, swish, swish!’ Which is his version of the Gymboree song. When he is ready to get out of bed, he doesn’t climb out. We hear from the top of his lungs, “mommay, mommay, mommay!!!!!” and then something that resembles that he wants to get out of bed.
Although, it is a sad and emotional point for my husband and I, I absolutely love being able to lay down next to my baby J and read his books to him. He likes to creep his fingers around my face and explore every part of it. It’s just so absolutely precious and it’s those moments that I need to help me forget his devilish toddlerhood that makes me nuts all day long. I love my growing boy.
Anyone have a Kleenex?
My son happens to be the most independent person I know and probably will ever know. I can tell that already. When he was 10 ½ months, on December 21st 2004, he decided that he no longer wanted to breastfeed. We woke up and I did my usual routine with him. I get ready to feed him, latch him and he looks right up at me and… {BITE}. YOWCH! I wait a few minutes and through my tears of agony I try again. YOWCH again! I tried all day to get him to take the breast. I tried all week. I was more determined than a hungry lion staring at a zebra at the pond. J wanted nothing to do with it. J decided when he wanted to end the most intimate of mother-child relationships, no me. I was devastated. I, for once, at 10 ½ months, realized that my child was very independent and was growing up. I had to take a long deep breath. I also cried more than I should have.
J’s next step to independence just occurred a few weeks ago. One night as we were putting him to bed, he put his foot down and gave up one of the longest nights we have had in a long time. After bath, brushing his teeth, struggling with the diaper and his jimmies, J announced that he didn’t want to sleep in his crib.
“Mommay, nap floor.”
“You don’t want to sleep in your crib, Honeybear?”
“NO, NAP FLOOR!”
We would put him in the crib and he would scream as if I put him into a pool of hot lava. He was hysterical. It was horrifying. Hearing him plead with us because all he wanted was to sleep on the floor. We didn’t get it. We finally gave up and let him cry in his crib and he eventually did fall asleep that night. He woke up bright and early ready to get out of his confines of wooden bars.
Naptime was just as pretty. The crying and begging not to go into his crib was unbearable. Everything was thrown out and announced that THEY were sleeping on the floor. His Tigger doll, Mickey Mouse, Brown Bear Book, sippy cup, even his banana blanket all were ready to sleep on the floor. With or without him. After a very long struggle, I set up a makeshift bed on the floor next to his crib. He fell asleep instantly and slept there peacefully for his entire nap.
This is when I realized that my child, my baby, this being that was supposed to need me for everything and follow my every direction is not going to. He wasn’t going to sleep in his baby crib for the rest of his life like I had planned. He decided he was ready to be ‘out of the crib’. He was making his next step to be as far away from my womb as possible. He slept on the floor for a few days until we ran out and got him a big boy twin bed. I spent a fortune on cool bedding from Pottery Barn and he has been great in it ever since. He doesn’t even get out of it in the morning when he wakes up. He still lays in bed and plays with his dolls and books and anything else I leave in his bed for him. I hear him playing with his Baby Tad doll that sings a few notches way too high and he will sing ‘Gymbo, swish, swish, swish!’ Which is his version of the Gymboree song. When he is ready to get out of bed, he doesn’t climb out. We hear from the top of his lungs, “mommay, mommay, mommay!!!!!” and then something that resembles that he wants to get out of bed.Although, it is a sad and emotional point for my husband and I, I absolutely love being able to lay down next to my baby J and read his books to him. He likes to creep his fingers around my face and explore every part of it. It’s just so absolutely precious and it’s those moments that I need to help me forget his devilish toddlerhood that makes me nuts all day long. I love my growing boy.
Anyone have a Kleenex?
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Almost as dissapointing as the Rangers
I am in utter shock right now. How in the world could Chris be booted off AI? I know I voted. Did you? Everyone loves him. Even the audience was just as shocked. I have never seen an audience so stunned since I have been watching the show. Is everyone upset because they kept saying ‘Oh, he doesn’t need my vote, everyone is voting for him?’ I know as I was hitting redial then getting busy signal, redial then getting busy signal, redial then getting busy signal until my fingers almost fell off. My husband kept saying that he didn’t need my vote. I finally got my vote in and said that I wanted him to win by a long shot and every vote counts. I guess that’s why I vote in the presidential elections and he doesn’t. Every vote means something.
So, how can he be so loved and so adorned and be booted off? It’s my theory that they rigged it somehow. Katherine keeps messing up her lyrics, Taylor sings like someone is twisting a twig in his ass, and honestly Elliott really doesn’t have a good voice. AI is ALMOST not worth watching anymore.
So, how can he be so loved and so adorned and be booted off? It’s my theory that they rigged it somehow. Katherine keeps messing up her lyrics, Taylor sings like someone is twisting a twig in his ass, and honestly Elliott really doesn’t have a good voice. AI is ALMOST not worth watching anymore.
Monday, May 8, 2006
Our future is comfortable
The whole ordeal with our bed is now over. We finally did get our box springs. The bed is quite firmer than our last and we tried to get a comfort exchange. That didn’t work out and we decided to stick with it. R figures it just needs to be broken in. Although we went through hell and back to get these low profile box springs, the bed still seems very high to me. I am thinking of getting a step stool for my side of the bed or I am going to have a far fall one of these days. Even though I may break my head open trying to get on and off, I am very happy we made the switch to a king.
There is quite a change from a queen size to a king size. It’s an enormous 18 inch difference from one side to the other. Sleeping in the bed, with my husband beside me, I have made a few observations. These statements do not mean I don’t love my new, huge and comfortable bed. It will just take some time to get used to.
When I want to reach over in the middle of the night and scratch R’s back, I have to really reach over. Sometimes I even have to go searching for him.
Making the bed makes you feel like you are making the whole state of Texas, it’s so big.
I now sleep with 3 pillows. I have a new king size pillow I put behind my 2 regulars and the big fat 22 pound cat sleeps on the big pillow. Now he doesn’t purr on me or lick me all the time. I just get a nice, gentle vibration.
I can’t see my clock at night. I have to dig through the pillows to get to my nightstand.
The phone, which is now on R’s side of the bed because of electrical difficulties, seems likes it’s a mile and a half away.
All three of the cats can sleep on the bed without infringing on the others’ territory.
We can sleep with all three of the cats without feeling like we are going to fall off the bed.
R still creeps onto my side of the bed, but it takes longer for him to get there.
I am dying to have our little guy crawl into bed with us and snuggle in the mornings.
There is just way too many pillows between our normal pillows, the 2 new king pillows, my body pillow and all the decorative pillows.
I feel like if I turn on the fan it’s going to chop off my toes.
But no matter what, I still love to climb into R’s side of the bed after he leaves. I guess with any size bed I will do that.
There is quite a change from a queen size to a king size. It’s an enormous 18 inch difference from one side to the other. Sleeping in the bed, with my husband beside me, I have made a few observations. These statements do not mean I don’t love my new, huge and comfortable bed. It will just take some time to get used to.
When I want to reach over in the middle of the night and scratch R’s back, I have to really reach over. Sometimes I even have to go searching for him.
Making the bed makes you feel like you are making the whole state of Texas, it’s so big.
I now sleep with 3 pillows. I have a new king size pillow I put behind my 2 regulars and the big fat 22 pound cat sleeps on the big pillow. Now he doesn’t purr on me or lick me all the time. I just get a nice, gentle vibration.
I can’t see my clock at night. I have to dig through the pillows to get to my nightstand.
The phone, which is now on R’s side of the bed because of electrical difficulties, seems likes it’s a mile and a half away.
All three of the cats can sleep on the bed without infringing on the others’ territory.
We can sleep with all three of the cats without feeling like we are going to fall off the bed.
R still creeps onto my side of the bed, but it takes longer for him to get there.
I am dying to have our little guy crawl into bed with us and snuggle in the mornings.
There is just way too many pillows between our normal pillows, the 2 new king pillows, my body pillow and all the decorative pillows.
I feel like if I turn on the fan it’s going to chop off my toes.
But no matter what, I still love to climb into R’s side of the bed after he leaves. I guess with any size bed I will do that.
Thursday, May 4, 2006
Bedtime stories
“HELLO? What the hell did you do? I couldn’t get him down no matter what I tried.”
“I read him a book and sang him a song as I went around the room until I got to the door and snuck out. He’s just laying there with his sippy and will be asleep in a few minutes.”
“You must be a miracle maker.”
“No, you must have tired him out the past hour and a half.”
“I read him a book and sang him a song as I went around the room until I got to the door and snuck out. He’s just laying there with his sippy and will be asleep in a few minutes.”
“You must be a miracle maker.”
“No, you must have tired him out the past hour and a half.”
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