Sunday, December 21, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
So we did it.
I drove Ada out to Huntley so we could make the exchange -- really so I could spend way too much money at the Banana Republic outlet since the whole store was 40% off--and Rick's parents met Ada and I there around noon. We had lunch and poof, the adventure began.
Rick and I had set a few goals for things we wanted to get accomplished over the weekend. I wanted to go on a date and get to ride in the front passenger seat of the car --I normally sit in back with Ada-- Rick had a holiday party for a co-worker, I was hopeful that I'd be able to run errands and get a manicure/pedicure with Aunt Anne, of course I needed to set aside time to wrap presents, and if I was lucky, I'd get to my list of things to mend as it continues to grow. We also decided this was our chance to build shelves for our basement storage unit so that all of Ada's baby stuff would fit. Yep. We were ambitious.
So what did we accomplish? No much. We went to a quick dinner and a movie-4 Christmases was cute and funny. We were home by 9:30. You know us-- wild and crazy! Then we slept in-- Until 8:30 or was it 9 am? Hmmm... I made pancakes and Rick measured and drafted what we'd need for the storage units. At noon he was ready to go to Home Depot... but we can't fit all that stuff in our civic. Hmmm... Aunt Anne? Can we borrow your CRV? (Ha ha ha...) So we drive up almost to Evanston to trade cars with Anne. We get to Home Depot at 2, get the wood, get out to the CRV and the Home Depot guy measures the car. Nope. You need to rent the truck. So I go in to rent the truck and thankfully I had my insurance guy's number - James Taylor with Farmers Insurance --He rocks!- in my cell phone because I didn't have an insurance card with me and Rick had the one from 2007 and our previous Insurance agent. Jim happened to be at work and faxed the card over. We got the truck, Rick and the guy loaded it while I did paperwork. Tick tock. Tick tock. It's 3:45 when we get to the house to unload. Rick called our neighbor Lee -- who also rocks -- to help us unload the truck, in the rain since it started raining as soon as we got the wood outside, of course. And it's icy out. We can't get the truck into the back lot due to the ice so it is hanging halfway into the alley and ticking off our neighbors. Sorry about that. Half hour of unloading wood in our golashes - Rick in wet tennis shoes - we get it all into the basement. We return the truck, return Anne's CRV, and return home at 4:45 to order a burrito (since we skipped lunch), park the car, and sit on the couch to watch Jurassic Park as we digest - oh yeah, perfect movie to aid digestion.
Now it's 6:30. Rick still needs to make a dessert or appetizer for the party so he walks to the store as I finish the movie -- and all of the scary parts ALONE mind you. We make a batch of puppy chow -- corn chex with chocolate, peanut butter and butter melted and covered with powdered sugar -- got showers, got dressed and cabbed to the party so we didn't have to have a designated driver.
The party was nice. Got to meet fun people and drink fancy martinis. At 11:30 we both started yawning and were home, in bed by midnight. Sad. I know. We just don't have it in us anymore.
Sunday morning we got up at 9, ate cereal, wrapped presents, cleaned the house and left to meet Ada and my family for lunch in Wheaton at 12. We started off going the wrong direction (90 instead of 88 --oops--old habits die hard), but made it and had a wonderful afternoon.
So what did we get done, not much. I still have errands to run. We have a pile of wood in the basement that needs a full day of two people hacking at it to make anything resembling shelves, and my mending pile is still collecting dust. But I did organize my knitting stuff. We'll get to that other stuff on the list... eventually. Until then, we have the memory of a nice weekend with just the two of us.
And now I just keep saying "What did they do to her? She looks like a toddler now. Where's my little baby?" I know it didn't happen overnight, but it sure seems like it did.
Moral of the story: It's good to be kid free every once in awhile. It helps you reset, take a break, and realize just how much you love the little munchkins that bring so much drama to your life.
Being the smart mom that I am, albeit a bit delayed, I moved her to the highchair, locked her in and secured the tray. Then I redistributed the cubes of food, dusting them off as I went, and showed her how to eat them. She did eat a few, but she mainly just picked them up and pretended to eat them. Here I'm thinking she's had a good amount of food and then I peek down past the tray, onto her lap. Deceiving little booger! She's neatly stashed away 90% of the food on her tray. So I picked the slivers of food back up, now mushed and slobbery, and we try again. The food disappears off the tray again and after one more round of replacing the food from her lap to her tray, I finally give up. By now she's got a party in her pants and can't sit still. We'll try again later.
Moral of the story: Starting a baby on chunks of food is kind of like giving a cat or dog a pill. You won't know if it made it into their bellies until later when you find it on the floor under the table, next to your favorite pair of house slippers that are now decorated with tooth marks.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Why? They just wanted to chew on stuff and play follow the leader. And babysitters get paid to do this. What a job!
Moral of the story: People handle multiples all the time. If you are in a situation where you have to watch multiple kids, ease into it and be thankful you get to give them back at some point. (Eva's so cool I'd keep her, but her mom kinda likes her and I'm not ready to try to put them both to bed at once, or down for naps, sheesh!)
Now Rick is Ada's #1 tickle monster. He's really good at it too. I can honestly say, I taught him everything he knows. :)
Moral of the story: Few people in the world really, truly hate being tickled. Beware of those people and have fun with the rest.
While shopping at Macy's, formerly Marshall Field's don't forget, with my mom and dad and our friend Anne (Ada's #2 Dad since she fills in whenever Rick can't) and Rick, we had to wait a few minutes for an elevator. Santa was in the building and you know how that can make everyone a little kookie. So we're waiting. ..and we're all board and tired of staring at each other. That's when I notice there is a nice jazz song playing on the intercom and I start to dance with Ada. Not only did it pass the time, but it got a few giggles (from her), laughs (from my mom and dad), smiles (from me) and weird looks (from other people wondering what was wrong with me).
Moral of the story: As long as you don't care what other people think (I don't), it turns out that dancing, with or without music, is a great way to pass the time you must spend waiting.
Moral of the story: Sometimes containing your child does more to limit your movement than hers.
Monday, December 1, 2008
This thanksgiving, I was thankful for parents that watched Ada while we snuck out for a hot date at Qdoba to share some nachos in the half hour we had allotted for dinner before we went to the local theater to watch the new 007 flick. We were home by 10:30. The best part of the night? I got to ride in the front seat of the car. That's a rare treat now that we have Ada and one of us typically rides in back to entertain her. It's a big deal to ride up front and feel like an adult again. Kind of like getting upgraded to the adult table once you've outgrown the kiddie table at grandmas house.
While at my parents house, I was perusing a shelf of trinkets and noticed that my dad had purchased mini snow globes with all of our names on them. There was Bob, Diane, Rick, Amanda, Rob, Anna and then a blank one. I asked my dad what the blank one was all about thinking that maybe he bought them before Ada was born and assumed we'd add her name later, but he said, "Well if you named your kid something common, I'd be able to find her name pre-printed on a damn snow globe."
When I told this to Rick, he was pleasantly surprised by this revelation and saw it as a sign of our success in naming Ada something that wasn't common. My comment, being less than materialistic was more along the lines of, "That's awesome. Now she won't be tempted to by crap with her name on it."
Moral of the story: Not only do you need to think about what the kids at school will call your children, how they can be made fun of, what rhymes with their name, how the name will work with your last name, and what the baby's initials will spell, but you also need to consider if you want it to be readily available on key chains, street signs, mini license plates and other kitschy tschotkes. No pressure.
How's that for recycling?
This time was no different. We each had a bag of clothes. Ada had a bag of clothes, a bag of blankets (we have radiators and it's always much warmer here than anywhere else hence all of the blankets), a bag of diapers and wipes, a diaper bag, and probably another bag I'm forgetting. Oh, and her carrier just in case. Then we had all the stuff we had to take with us, things to entertain us in the car -- I didn't find my knitting bag until we returned home so that didn't make the trip--things to eat, things we've made for other people to eat. You get the point. Way too much stuff for a 3 day trip.
So it really isn't surprising when I say that the nanny called me at work at 10 am asking where all of Ada's formula was. Uh... "It's all in the trunk. I packed it. All of it." Yep. I told you I forgot to mention another bag. Ada had a food bag and a carry-on food bag that didn't go in the trunk. Unfortunately, I had packed it all in the trunk before going to work so I wouldn't have to pack with her alone in the house or alone in the car or in the carrier on my back as I schlepped all of the crap out to the car. "I'll be right home." But the nanny offered to hold Ada off and give her water and food until I got home right after lunch to feed her milk. I had a few things to get done at work and, the guilty mom that I am, left at 12 instead of 1:30 so that my baby wouldn't starve to death or be depraved her milk fix for the morning. Bad mommy.
Upon returning home to find Ada crawling around in an obnoxious outfit while barefoot, I was quickly reminded (by the nanny) that I had indeed packed all of her "cool" stuff-- Including her cool shoes, clothes, hats, gloves, bibs... all of it--forcing her to look like a complete dork that morning. She'll get me back someday. I'm pretty sure of it.
And to make things even more interesting... since we had Ada's car seat already installed in our car, WE got to play chauffeur for the 3 hours to our relatives house for thanksgiving in our 4 door honda civic. Normally that would be fine but we got to do it with a baby, all of the baby's stuff, all of our clothes for an overnight at my cousin's house with blankets for us and Ada, all of the food my dad was going to prepare, a pack-n-play for Ada, and 4 adults in the car --3 being men 5'9" and above. Lovely.
Moral of the story: Be sure to give a responsible neighbor your house keys, just in case. And try to pack light. There is only so much room in the trunk of a honda civic.
We set aside an hour to get ready this morning, and we could have easily used two. That's how it is now that I have a baby (soon to be toddler). I left ample time, or so I thought, to clean the snow off the car as we got about 2 inches overnight. Unfortunately, as I was putting Ada's socks and shoes on her squirmy little feet, a waft of something not-so-pleasant hit me and we were delayed a few minutes to re-change her diaper, that was a whole 5 minutes old, and dispose of the toxic waste in the back garbage. I took about 20 seconds to debate wearing tennis shoes or golashes - some call them wellies - and chose the golashes. After all, why bother trying to be fashionable when taking a sick kid to the Doctoress when you don't have time to put makeup on, it's snowed recently and is sure to be slushy, and you aren't going to see anyone you know?
I got Ada ready and realized... she needs a hat, and I need to grab the diaper bag. Oh, and I need my phone. Ooooh, and I should grab her some food and make her a bottle quick before we go. Tick, tock. Tick tock. Yeah, thank goodness I padded my schedule with some extra time for all this last minute stuff.
We load up, or I should say, I grab Ada, the diaper bag, the shoulder bag serving as my purse these days, my hat, gloves, a scarf, my jacket, double check I have keys, hoist the baby onto my hip and we're out the front door, first and second vestibule doors and into the fresh, cold, winter air. The car is right out front and I locate my keys, unlock the door and heave Ada inside as I step into the puddle next to the curb. Thank God I was wearing my wellies! I am now standing in 6 inches of brown, cold, slush... but my feet are dry. I lock Ada down into her car seat and go to grab my gloves when they get hooked on my sunglasses and, of course, I fling them into the brown slush below. At least they are plastic and will wash easily. Tragedy narrowly avoided.
Ada cries as I dance around the car ridding it of snow. I get in. She starts really crying. I get out. I give her a bottle of milk. I get back in and pull out. Our appointment is at 11:45 and it's 11: 35. It's a ten to fifteen minute drive so we are cutting it close. We get 5 blocks away and she starts screaming. She's dropped the bottle onto the seat beside her. I get to a red stop light. I get out. I give her the bottle and prop it up better this time. I get in. We make it another 5 blocks and she drops it again but this time she isn't hysterical. 5 more blocks and we've arrived at our destination. We do the whole Doctoress visit. Ada gets a flu shot. Doctoress says she's fine, might have an infection and we can try amoxicillian in a few days if it doesn't clear up on it's own. I schedule my flu shot for later this week, and Ada's 1 year vaccine appointment and we're off. We bundle back up, I gather all of our stuff and "bye bye", we head out to the car.
Now on to our errand of the day. We're stopping by The Right Start to pick up a second car seat so that we can swap it between Grandparent's cars and carry my niece if ever we need to. It's on sale and the sale ends today, of course. So we drive up to the store and there is prime parking available, but it's squished in between two cars and it's a tight fit. So what. I'm going to squeeze into it and show that green jeep who's boss. I mean really. Who parks like that? So we squeeze in. We shimmy out on the driver's side as I've left more room for me to get out than for them to get in on the right side. Serves them right.
Once in the store, we learn that they only have the pink one in stock. Is that okay? "Sure. That's what we wanted in the first place but it wasn't in stock." I call Rick to confirm and all is well. (If you've read my other blogs you may remember a bit of drama we had about not being able to get the pink one. Well, we now have a pink one.)
Serves me right. Karma always comes back to bite you in the butt as I always say. And boy did it ever bite me. Sitting in the back seat with my golashes on, I now have to throw my leg over Ada, in the car seat, and shimmy to the driver’s side of the back seat so that I can open the driver’s side door and eventually get behind the wheel, all while avoiding crushing Ada’s little body in her car seat as she looks at me thinking, “What the hell are you doing mom?”
As I’m doing this shimmy thing in the back seat, I’m also on the phone with Rick discussing the purchase, the Doctoress visit and the irony of the green jeep turning into the grey van and how I am now stuck. I’m straddling Ada and the car seat while on the phone when, “Oh shit. Ow. OW. OWWW. That hurts. Rick hold on.” “Are you okay Amanda?” he asks as I’m holding the phone at arms length trying to stretch out a cramp under my floating rib. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that. I got a cramp while suspended over Ada. Karma always gets even.” We wrap up our conversation and Ada and I head home.
Of course, we got an okay parking spot. Nothing fabulous but at least it’s on our street. I figure it is residual karma backlash and hope that doing a few good deeds early in the day tomorrow will set things back to the good side of things.
Moral of the story: If it’s crummy outside, wear your wellies. If a space is too tight, no matter how close it is to the door, let it go. You could probably use the exercise and it’s better than a cramp under your rib and a dent in your door.