Friday, July 31, 2009
Yesterday, Ada was walking through the kitchen and headed toward the refrigerator when all of us sudden, PLOP, a brown nugget appeared on the kitchen floor tile.
I look at Rick.
Rick looks at me.
"Where did that come from?"
"Is it poop?"
"Sure looks like it."
"How'd that happen? She's wearing a diaper and a skirt?"
"Well, it appears that she's in a disposable and her diaper has shifted up her butt crack."
"That's gross. I'll go check the rest of the house. You go fix that."
Yep. That's a night at our house these days. Fun huh. Birth control for another 5 years for those of you who just aren't that ready for kids.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
I've always hated my wardrobe. I've always considered myself fashionably inept (compared to Audrey Hepburn okay, not Paris Hilton.) Just recently, or maybe constantly for the past several years if you ask my husband since I'm in denial, my wardrobe issues have escalated since:
1.) my size keeps fluctuating --pregnant/not pregnant/post pregnant belly/not prgnant but feeling round in the middle/and hopefully buff once again, someday-- and I must say I have a much better appreciation for anyone dealing with weight issues and dieting. Gesh!
1.5) my bust size keeps changing... not pregnant, pregnant, nursing, weaning, not nursing/not pregnant. And then the whole depressing issue of having your chest be smaller than your belly from the side view. Sigh.
2.) my wardrobe budget feels non-existent some days and pathetic others. I just don't want to spend my money on clothes.
3.) my shoe size keeps changing so I have a crappy shoe selection to go with my clothes that I do have that do fit (thank God for my neighbor Kelly who is my same shoe size or close enough to it that her shoes work -- and she has a gazillion so that helps-- though she can never move away from me.)
4.) I don't really like shopping, am less than talented at accessorizing and my skills are limited when pulling an outfit together -- but can't afford a personal shopper or wardrobe consultant at this point in my life.
5.) my style is basic, boring, and unexciting. I try to be classic and conservative but I am in need a few pieces with panache to spice things up. (I'm thankful that Kelly has a ton of accessories for me to borrow too.)
6.) I'm 30 and a mom. I'm trying to dress my new age and not look like a frumpy "mom" in mom jeans up to my ribs or sweats with food stains all over my chest and sleeves (from Ada of course). And trying not to look like someone from the eighties--but it seems like those styles are coming back in again??? I'm not going to tight roll my mom jeans no matter what the style mavens say!
7.) I don't have time to shop or have a shop-tasticly talented shopper girlfriend in the city to shop with.
8.) being a woman makes fashion infinitely more challenging than it is for a man. Men(mostly) don't have the option of high heels or flats, pants or skirt, capris or cropped, mini, pencil or a-line?
9.) I just learned black purses could have a season... now I know patent leather is really more appropriate for the colder months...
10.) and sales tax in the city is 11%. I'd rather go naked and get laughed at.
I do feel lucky to have this problem for a few reasons, for which I am incessantly thankful:
1.) Rick's really supportive and helpful and honest (which is a good thing unless you really just want him to lie), but he's not a fashionista and will occasionally just agree with me so that we get out of the house on time swearing that "no one will even notice anyway."
2.) at least I have clothes, and clothing options.
3.) at least I have shoes, and shoe options.
4.) at least I have boobs, even if they change size frequently and I have to buy more bras.
5.) at least I have hair, even though I didn't even cover that in my first list of drama. I don't ever do much with my hair so it doesn't cause too much trouble-- I'm extra thankful for that.
6.) at least I have money to buy clothes and shoes and stuff to feel fashionable.
7.) and at least I have friends who let me borrow their stuff and only laugh about me in private.
So until I'm blessed with so much money that I've already saved all of the world's problems and rescued humanity from all evil, I'll just do my best to try to look good and avoid public nudity at all costs. For those of you dealing with similar issues, we can always move to small towns in the middle of nowhere where noone cares about fashion much at all and if you got it from Wal-mart, it "looks good".
Friday, July 24, 2009
no writing about friend drama because they may read it and cry or yell at you,
no writing about work drama because someone may read it and fire you,
and no writing about anything too personal because, well, it's personal.
I think the blog Dooce.com is so successful because she throws all of that out the window and just gets it all off her chest. That and she's funny, has great stories, and has a Mormon buzz about her family that is interesting to most of the country that doesn't understand Mormons. It helps that she has great photos, two dogs, two kids, and a crazy life. Oh, and she started way before blogging was cool.
Until I lose all qualms about posting any old thing, you can bet your bunny I'll be silently censoring my posts, while burning inside internally. I guess that way I'll still have content left over for my tell all book. I'll be sure to post all about it when it goes on sale-- but don't hold your breath.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Ada and a Goat (another one seemed to be nibbling her shirt)
Good times had by all. I wish someone would have gotten a picture of Bobpa with a goat and his granddaughters but that's just me... always wanting more photos.
Maybe it would be easier if she'd keep barrettes in her hair or wear a headband or if it was long enough to pull back --but she won't and it isn't. Hence my problem.
So today, before Rick snuck out for work, I decided on a new strategy. I got the hairspray out. I put two squirts worth on my hand. And I slicked Ada's bangs off to the side of her face. Done. It likely won't last long the way she eats and fusses with it but so far, so good. And the best part is, I can see her pretty blue eyes. Awwww...
Moral of the story: A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do to keep the peace and sanity in the house. Just try not to tick off your spouse while doing it.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
The theory now is that we go back in three months to check on her progress and re-evaluate, just in case. If she's progressing nicely and just a bit behind the curve, that's fine. Otherwise, we can meet with a speech pathologist (or is it speech therapist?) and see if we need to focus on something specific. We're going to try to work with more picture books and focus on body parts, colors, numbers, common household objects, etc. I'm thinking a little less time spent with her all time favorite Finding Nemo DVD won't hurt (She only watches it once or twice a week so don't get all excited that TV is my babysitter since I don't even have TV access. We only get that snowy fuzz, and maybe channel 2 if it is sunny out.) Feel free to leave comments or email me with any tips if you've been in this spot before. I'm sure she's just taking her time and working us as much as she can and I'm not worried. There is a difference between being worried about something and keeping an eye on it. I'm keeping an eye on it...and her size since she's still off the charts -- but that runs in the family.
Speaking of height, at 34 inches -- if you double that -- since they say a kid's height at age 2 doubled is their likely adult height -- she's already going to be 5'8" and she's got six more months to grow. I really need to get Aunt Heather to commit to teaching her basketball and volleyball since she played Cornell. I can't pass up that opportunity for Ada --but I'm not going to be some pushy mom that makes her play sports if she really wants to go out for the ballet or theater or start her own dog walking business at age ten. I'm cool with all of that.
Back to her doctoress visit...
I then asked about potty training as I've started to do some research and the Doctoress recommended getting a potty and getting Ada used to it. Start explaining when we go to the bathroom and referencing the potty. Give her some time to acclimate to the potty and accept it as her own. That sort of thing. I've had a few mom's tell me their potty training stories and advice so again, if you have anything to add on that topic, please feel free to leave a comment below and I'd be happy to consider it. We're at ground zero for this stuff and I don't want to mess it up.
My next-to-final beef of the day is Ada's shoe size. Her feet keep getting bigger and bigger, it seems like every week it's a new size. She's already a size 7 and we have a collection of shoes in size 6 and 8 but only one pair of sevens and I bought them from Target, thought they were cute, they had rubber soles so that would be good, and they seemed to fit-- but now that she's worn them a few times, I notice that she slips all over tiled-floors in stores and our hardwood floors at home, so they really aren't that great. And the selection at Target was crap. Totally picked over by the time I got there. Disappointing. So I've sent Grandma Ba on a mission to see what she can find. That way, she gets to fill her need to buy cute things for Ada, Ada gets new shoes, and I don't have to fight the crowds and crappy selection at Target(not to knock target because I do like that store for the most part -- minus their current selection of sunglasses and that's only because I just broke mine camping... but I digress, again.)
And my final beef of the day... dun, dun, dun... the damn black berry tree in front of our neighbor's house! Don't get me wrong. I love the tree, its beautiful shade, its size (big for a city tree), and its ability to freshen the air I breath. Love all that. Hate the damn berries that fall all over the sidewalk, making it a purpley/black gooey mess for a month and a half each year. Rick's smart enough to walk across the street to avoid it but since I tend to park just beyond it on this side of the street, that doesn't always work. (We WILL NOT park under it as the car then turns into a giant mess of crap, covered in berries and pigeon poo and there is no hope for ever getting it clean for less than a $20 car wash.)
So today, on the way to Ada's Doctoress appointment, we had to walk through the berries to get to the car. As I buckle her into her car seat, I notice some of them embedded into the soles of her stupid pink sandals that don't fit the cute chubbiness of her feet, and I make a mental note to clean them at some point and hope they don't stain the car. Of course, what happens when I get to the Doctoress' office? Ada wants to stand on my lap. In her pink shoes. With berries on the bottom. And what happens? My jeans (albeit my "fat" jeans which offer the poorest fit of all jeans in my collection) get berry rubbed into the left front thigh. Nice. Thanks Ada. Just what I've always wanted.
But wait... it keeps going. She gets berries on the paper covering the baby scale when they weigh and her (32.2 lbs), on the paper covering the exam table when they check her ears, all over the tiled floor of the exam room, a few spots on the carpet outside of the exam room, just above my cleavage (if I had any--how did berries get there anyway?), and all over her inner calves. A mess. Luckily, we saw our friend Jen outside on the walk back home from the car and crossed the street to talk to her, and thereby avoiding the berries on the sidewalk. And, I remembered to take Ada's shoes off immediately upon entering the house so she didn't stain our new living room rug -- the one with a big cream colored circle on it that is just waiting for a big nasty purple berry stain.
Moral of the story: Days like this are the reason we have other mom friends we can call or chat with and vent to. It makes it all just that much easier to deal with.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Moral of the story: 99% of the things you stress about in life never happen. I know that but I still worry about packing and forgetting things and if Ada will sleep okay or get sick or eat enough or like the beach or get sunburned or we'll have good weather. Luckily, the odds were with us and she had a great time, stayed healthy and we got to relax with little rain. We'll be going again for a week in August so hopefully the odds will be with us then too.