After spending last Saturday with Rick's parents as they cleaned house after their basement took on water two weekends ago (The Perfect Storm: The power went out, they were out of town and couldn't turn the generator on to keep the sump pump going, and the storm was a whooper.) it was time to do a bit of reorganizing around here.
After each pregnancy, I've taken time to re-evaluate my wardrobe and clear out items that I don't wear, that don't fit, or that just don't belong anymore. I tend to wait a month or two after the baby is born so that I have a better idea of what could again fit me some day if it is close and what really doesn't have any chance of ever working for me again -- like my bikinis. It wasn't hard to fill three bags of clothing up to pass on. Purging also gives me a chance to reorganize our room, get things back in order, and have a space that is more calm compared to the chaos that is currently our home.
I still need to go through all of Ada's clothes to see what she's already outgrown but it isn't an easy task since she could be anywhere from a 2T to a 5T depending on the style and cut of an outfit. And everyone keeps telling me her pants will all fit differently when she is potty trained so I need to hold off on passing those on.
Iain has outgrown a few things but his wardrobe is considerably smaller than Ada's and poses less of a problem. I am still trying to find homes for the gifts he received from the recent baby shower Rick's family threw for us. I really just need to put most of it away in his drawer but just haven't found the time. And to add to our chaos, we collected three bags of books from Rick's parents' house to help them purge and add them to our collection. Now we just need to figure out where they fit in.
Moral of the story: We all have stuff. The more you can minimize, organize and maintain the systems in place to manage the stuff, the less stressed you will be.
Showing posts with label Cleaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cleaning. Show all posts
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Busy, Busy, Busy
These are from a few months ago. Ada loves to play with the computer -- mainly just to push the power button whenever I'm in the middle of a big project at work. In an attempt to save my sanity and keep her occupied, I removed the batteries from our wireless keyboard and let her go to town. She had a blast and I got to clean the kitchen. Lucky me! 
If only we could all go to work in our underwear -- we'd save on our work wardrobes but I think that might cause a bit of an issue with Human Resources...
She is also obsessed with Rick. Constantly needs to be near him and is now being accepted as his shadow. She insists on "helping" him with everything -- or at least being between him and whatever it is he is trying to get accomplished. Clearly this is the reason kids are so cute -- so that we can't really get mad when they try to "help" and render us totally unproductive..JPG)
If only we could all go to work in our underwear -- we'd save on our work wardrobes but I think that might cause a bit of an issue with Human Resources...
She is also obsessed with Rick. Constantly needs to be near him and is now being accepted as his shadow. She insists on "helping" him with everything -- or at least being between him and whatever it is he is trying to get accomplished. Clearly this is the reason kids are so cute -- so that we can't really get mad when they try to "help" and render us totally unproductive..JPG)
Moral of the story: The older they get doesn't necessarily mean they are more helpful.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Memorial Four-Day Weekend
Day 1 - Friday we went to the Shedd Aquarium to test out our new membership card. Ada immediately fell in love and was amazed by it all. The new baby beluga is pretty cool and Ada got really close to penguins and dolphins, among a million other underwater creatures. We decided an hour-and-a-half is the perfect amount of time to see what we can and get out before she gets hungry, tired, or just plain cranky--or I do. We'll have to schedule a special time to go see the water show and the 4-D movie feature, but that's why we have a membership.
Then it was out to LaGrange in traffic for a double stroller I found on Craig's List. It was a pain to get out there and back since traffic is always bad the Friday before a holiday weekend, but it was worth it to get that checked off the list. We had to be back in the city by four to see the Doctoress. I had hoped Ada would get a nap in while we were on our way out to get the stroller, but I was clearly mistaken. She finally fell asleep when we were twenty minutes from the Doctoress' office. At least she got some rest.
The Doctoress gave Ada Flownase thinking she might have seasonal allergies that are triggering her asthma. We had her blood drawn to test for allergies so we can avoid any triggers and stop assuming she's allergic to everything. (We found out today that she isn't allergic to anything they tested her for--mainly cats/dogs and seasonal allergies--which is good, but not aligning with her current diagnosis.) It turns out that we have a very rare child. She doesn't cry when you draw her blood or give her most shots, and she let's the Doctoress check her ears and nose without putting up a fight. She's just amazed by it all--causing great shock to all of the nurses. I think it helped that the nurse drawing her blood was awesome. She was calm, soft spoken, and friendly. She came in and asked for a happy vein. Then she asked if Ada would feed her "butterfly"--the needle has two blue "wings" to help her hold it in place. Ada was great and sat perfectly still while the butterfly snacked on her arm. I'll admit it was a moment of pure pride for Rick and I to watch our little rockstar in action.
We rounded out the day with dinner at a new, local burger bar that is environmentally friendly and offers grass-fed beef. I had my first veggie burger and it was delicious. All in all, not a bad start to the weekend.
Day 2 - Saturday didn't go so well. It started early when I smelled a gas leak in the basement as I was doing laundry and getting flower pots from the basement. The gas company found 3 leaks in the main line pipe and shut our building down completely until we got it fixed. That meant no hot water, and no cooking gas. Our building manager scrambled to get emergency pipe fitters to come fix it. She found some, they charged us time and a half and by 8 pm we had hot water. Still no cooking gas--that didn't come back until Tuesday morning (3 days later) when they could inspect each unit in our building to be sure the stoves were working properly. I spent a lot of the weekend getting in touch with our neighbors, who were mostly out of town, to try to get spare keys to allow us in to inspect their units, and to keep them informed of the situation. Not fun, but at least the building didn't blow up.
Before we knew the extent of the gas leak, Rick and I got to sneak out for BB's 36 week ultrasound. He's in position with his head down, just as the Doctoress thought, and all looks good. They think he's 7 lbs at this point, but who knows how accurate that is. And he's still growing so if we get to 8 lbs, I can handle that. It was nice to get the ultrasound out of the way early in the weekend as that always makes me a little bit anxious in case they see something and rush me off for more testing or something even more dramatic like you see on TV. No drama for this momma.
To make things interesting, this was a home improvement weekend. Grandma Ba was in charge of planting flowers in the pots on the porch with Ada while Rick and his dad were going to replace the air conditioner over the back door. When I think air conditioner replacement, I think "Pull out the old, put in the new, plug it in and turn it on." Easy, right? No. That is clearly not how this works. "Pull out the old one" took the majority of the day since we enlisted an Architect and an Engineer and they just don't jump into anything without figuring out how it works first. I respect that. But I sure didn't have the patience for it. They worked on that while Ada was entertained by her Great Granny, Great Aunt Terri and Grandma Ba, who all came in to cook out and enjoy a Memorial Day BBQ. Good thing they brought the food and we were able to grill because the stove wasn't going to do us any good. Grandma Ba and Ada had much more success with their plants and the addition of an herb garden to the baskets on our porch railing. Ada even has her own mini garden that is already starting to sprout. Now I just have to remember to water it all.
Day 3 - Sunday started with my imagined hope that the air conditioner project would magically become fast and easy, and ended with a reality check that we really should have just paid someone else to do it so Rick could have enjoyed some time off and we could have spent some quality family time together. Hindsight is 20/20. He ended up spending the day re-framing the space above the back door to hold the new, bigger, and surely better since the other one didn't work at all, air conditioning unit. I spent the morning making pancakes on the electric griddle and being thankful for having a microwave when the stove has no gas.
Sunday's high note was a BBQ with friends down the street. I gave Ada a bath right before we went since she was covered in dirt from playing on the porch and in the parking lot behind our place. I knew they would have a baby pool out at the BBQ but I wasn't sure how Ada would react and we were already running late so I opted for a dress and regular diaper instead of a swimsuit and swim diaper. At least I was thinking and had her wear water friendly Crocs instead of fancy shoes. In my defense, it took her a good hour to decide she wanted to get into the pool and when she did, there was no hesitation and little warning that she was going "all in". Now I know what diapers look like when they get dunked. Wow. Thankfully I had a change of clothes and extra diapers on hand. After finding a stopping point and cleaning up a bit, Rick arrived in time to clean up the leftovers and have a couple, much deserved, beers.
Day 4 - Monday's plans all went down the drain. Rick continued re-framing the space over the door -- we could charge admission to see this thing now it is so beautiful. We were supposed to have brunch with friends who spent the weekend moving to thier new condo, but knew that was unlikly since, well, they were moving and that throws all plans out the window. Then we could have marched in the annual WOOGAMS parade --a neighborhood parade that's been around for almost 50 years now, but a thunderstorm rolled in right as it started and I wasn't up for getting wet or hit by lightening. I decided to sit on the porch with Ada to have a light lunch and watch the storm blow by. Rick just kept working. That afternoon, when trying to find something local to have for a late lunch, Rick realized that most restaurants near us aren't open on Memorial Day so we ended up with soup from the Soup Box. By 4 pm, Rick was still working on the air conditioner project and it was time to go sell our single stroller to some friends and meet their newborn. We made a quick trip to the grocery store after that for the bare necessities and then went to dinner which turned into the longest experience we've ever had in entertaining Ada until the food came. It wasn't the night to be slow with our meal and Rick, Mr. Patience, was about to lose it. Luckily, Ada was a trooper and was easily entertained by his animal drawings on a lime green Post-it Note I had tucked into my purse. We made it home in time to put Ada to bed, put me to bed, and finally, at 11 pm, Rick turned off the drill and crawled into bed as well. The framing was finally done.
Tuesday, we ignored the air conditioner and took a night off. I cooked myself dinner on the stove and Rick played a little volleyball with friends. It was so nice.
Wednesday night, Rick caulked the air conditioner case into it's new home and suckered two strong neighbors to help him hoist the new unit into place, which took less than three minutes and it fit perfectly, of course. Then he did some final screwing and assembled the actual air conditioner front and insides.
But wait, we're not done yet.
Friday, the electrician is scheduled to come in and upgrade the outlet to a 15amp/230volt so we can plug it in. Oh yes, this is a powerful unit and needs it's own, special outlet. Chances are that this new outlet will cost a few hundred dollars -- hopefully not more than the air conditioner itself, but we'll see about that--and will involve the demolition of a portion of the wall in our kitchen. Can I just tell you how excited I am about the prospect of Rick having to re-drywall a section of our kitchen when I'm due to have his second child in three weeks or less? And home improvement projects in general? Needless to say, we won't ever be buying a "fixer upper", and I'll be getting a quote from a professional from this point forward on any projects we think we can handle ourselves. I'm much more motivated to find ways to save money so we can afford to pay professionals to get the job done. I think this is similar to the point you get after moving a few times when you finally say, "Next time, we're hiring movers."
Moral of the story: Home improvement projects are easy to underestimate. Do your best to know what you are getting into, and hire a professional if this isn't your favorite pasttime.
Then it was out to LaGrange in traffic for a double stroller I found on Craig's List. It was a pain to get out there and back since traffic is always bad the Friday before a holiday weekend, but it was worth it to get that checked off the list. We had to be back in the city by four to see the Doctoress. I had hoped Ada would get a nap in while we were on our way out to get the stroller, but I was clearly mistaken. She finally fell asleep when we were twenty minutes from the Doctoress' office. At least she got some rest.
The Doctoress gave Ada Flownase thinking she might have seasonal allergies that are triggering her asthma. We had her blood drawn to test for allergies so we can avoid any triggers and stop assuming she's allergic to everything. (We found out today that she isn't allergic to anything they tested her for--mainly cats/dogs and seasonal allergies--which is good, but not aligning with her current diagnosis.) It turns out that we have a very rare child. She doesn't cry when you draw her blood or give her most shots, and she let's the Doctoress check her ears and nose without putting up a fight. She's just amazed by it all--causing great shock to all of the nurses. I think it helped that the nurse drawing her blood was awesome. She was calm, soft spoken, and friendly. She came in and asked for a happy vein. Then she asked if Ada would feed her "butterfly"--the needle has two blue "wings" to help her hold it in place. Ada was great and sat perfectly still while the butterfly snacked on her arm. I'll admit it was a moment of pure pride for Rick and I to watch our little rockstar in action.
We rounded out the day with dinner at a new, local burger bar that is environmentally friendly and offers grass-fed beef. I had my first veggie burger and it was delicious. All in all, not a bad start to the weekend.
Day 2 - Saturday didn't go so well. It started early when I smelled a gas leak in the basement as I was doing laundry and getting flower pots from the basement. The gas company found 3 leaks in the main line pipe and shut our building down completely until we got it fixed. That meant no hot water, and no cooking gas. Our building manager scrambled to get emergency pipe fitters to come fix it. She found some, they charged us time and a half and by 8 pm we had hot water. Still no cooking gas--that didn't come back until Tuesday morning (3 days later) when they could inspect each unit in our building to be sure the stoves were working properly. I spent a lot of the weekend getting in touch with our neighbors, who were mostly out of town, to try to get spare keys to allow us in to inspect their units, and to keep them informed of the situation. Not fun, but at least the building didn't blow up.
Before we knew the extent of the gas leak, Rick and I got to sneak out for BB's 36 week ultrasound. He's in position with his head down, just as the Doctoress thought, and all looks good. They think he's 7 lbs at this point, but who knows how accurate that is. And he's still growing so if we get to 8 lbs, I can handle that. It was nice to get the ultrasound out of the way early in the weekend as that always makes me a little bit anxious in case they see something and rush me off for more testing or something even more dramatic like you see on TV. No drama for this momma.
To make things interesting, this was a home improvement weekend. Grandma Ba was in charge of planting flowers in the pots on the porch with Ada while Rick and his dad were going to replace the air conditioner over the back door. When I think air conditioner replacement, I think "Pull out the old, put in the new, plug it in and turn it on." Easy, right? No. That is clearly not how this works. "Pull out the old one" took the majority of the day since we enlisted an Architect and an Engineer and they just don't jump into anything without figuring out how it works first. I respect that. But I sure didn't have the patience for it. They worked on that while Ada was entertained by her Great Granny, Great Aunt Terri and Grandma Ba, who all came in to cook out and enjoy a Memorial Day BBQ. Good thing they brought the food and we were able to grill because the stove wasn't going to do us any good. Grandma Ba and Ada had much more success with their plants and the addition of an herb garden to the baskets on our porch railing. Ada even has her own mini garden that is already starting to sprout. Now I just have to remember to water it all.
Day 3 - Sunday started with my imagined hope that the air conditioner project would magically become fast and easy, and ended with a reality check that we really should have just paid someone else to do it so Rick could have enjoyed some time off and we could have spent some quality family time together. Hindsight is 20/20. He ended up spending the day re-framing the space above the back door to hold the new, bigger, and surely better since the other one didn't work at all, air conditioning unit. I spent the morning making pancakes on the electric griddle and being thankful for having a microwave when the stove has no gas.
Sunday's high note was a BBQ with friends down the street. I gave Ada a bath right before we went since she was covered in dirt from playing on the porch and in the parking lot behind our place. I knew they would have a baby pool out at the BBQ but I wasn't sure how Ada would react and we were already running late so I opted for a dress and regular diaper instead of a swimsuit and swim diaper. At least I was thinking and had her wear water friendly Crocs instead of fancy shoes. In my defense, it took her a good hour to decide she wanted to get into the pool and when she did, there was no hesitation and little warning that she was going "all in". Now I know what diapers look like when they get dunked. Wow. Thankfully I had a change of clothes and extra diapers on hand. After finding a stopping point and cleaning up a bit, Rick arrived in time to clean up the leftovers and have a couple, much deserved, beers.
Day 4 - Monday's plans all went down the drain. Rick continued re-framing the space over the door -- we could charge admission to see this thing now it is so beautiful. We were supposed to have brunch with friends who spent the weekend moving to thier new condo, but knew that was unlikly since, well, they were moving and that throws all plans out the window. Then we could have marched in the annual WOOGAMS parade --a neighborhood parade that's been around for almost 50 years now, but a thunderstorm rolled in right as it started and I wasn't up for getting wet or hit by lightening. I decided to sit on the porch with Ada to have a light lunch and watch the storm blow by. Rick just kept working. That afternoon, when trying to find something local to have for a late lunch, Rick realized that most restaurants near us aren't open on Memorial Day so we ended up with soup from the Soup Box. By 4 pm, Rick was still working on the air conditioner project and it was time to go sell our single stroller to some friends and meet their newborn. We made a quick trip to the grocery store after that for the bare necessities and then went to dinner which turned into the longest experience we've ever had in entertaining Ada until the food came. It wasn't the night to be slow with our meal and Rick, Mr. Patience, was about to lose it. Luckily, Ada was a trooper and was easily entertained by his animal drawings on a lime green Post-it Note I had tucked into my purse. We made it home in time to put Ada to bed, put me to bed, and finally, at 11 pm, Rick turned off the drill and crawled into bed as well. The framing was finally done.
Tuesday, we ignored the air conditioner and took a night off. I cooked myself dinner on the stove and Rick played a little volleyball with friends. It was so nice.
Wednesday night, Rick caulked the air conditioner case into it's new home and suckered two strong neighbors to help him hoist the new unit into place, which took less than three minutes and it fit perfectly, of course. Then he did some final screwing and assembled the actual air conditioner front and insides.
But wait, we're not done yet.
Friday, the electrician is scheduled to come in and upgrade the outlet to a 15amp/230volt so we can plug it in. Oh yes, this is a powerful unit and needs it's own, special outlet. Chances are that this new outlet will cost a few hundred dollars -- hopefully not more than the air conditioner itself, but we'll see about that--and will involve the demolition of a portion of the wall in our kitchen. Can I just tell you how excited I am about the prospect of Rick having to re-drywall a section of our kitchen when I'm due to have his second child in three weeks or less? And home improvement projects in general? Needless to say, we won't ever be buying a "fixer upper", and I'll be getting a quote from a professional from this point forward on any projects we think we can handle ourselves. I'm much more motivated to find ways to save money so we can afford to pay professionals to get the job done. I think this is similar to the point you get after moving a few times when you finally say, "Next time, we're hiring movers."
Moral of the story: Home improvement projects are easy to underestimate. Do your best to know what you are getting into, and hire a professional if this isn't your favorite pasttime.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Sick of Ada Being Sick
Ada's asthma thing, or whatever it is, isn't quite better yet. She was on medicine and that helped a ton. Then the medicine was done and she was okay for a couple of days. Then the coughing came back. Then, two nights ago the throwing up came back. It was like she had stored up all of the throwing up she hadn't done in the previous week and let it all out in one night. It started at 11:30pm and just kept going. I gave up around 1 am and poor Rick stayed on the couch sleeping/watching movies with her until who knows when. It sucked. Then he stayed home with her so they could both get some much needed rest.
From this most recent episode, I'll say "You haven't experienced parenthood until..."
clearly, there are many ways to finish off this line. To which I'll add:
...you've been thrown up on four times within two hours.
...you've had regurgitated banana drip down your cleavage, twice in one night.
...you've run out of towels in the linen closet from all of the showers you, your husband and your child have used to wash off remnants of vomit.
...you want to change places with your sick child so they don't have to suffer anymore because they just don't understand what's going on with their little body.
Yesterday, Rick took Ada back to the Doctor, but it wasn't her regular Doctoress so it was a wasted visit in my opinion since the new Doctor said we'd have to wait until her regular Doctoress came in today to do anything more. Gee buddy, thanks for nothing.
On the way home from the Doctor's office, Rick picked me up from work and Ada proceeded to throw up all over the back seat of the car just a few blocks from my office. We pulled over and cleaned her up--or Rick cleaned her and the car up while I called the Doctoress' office to demand that they leave our normal Doctoress an urgent message to contact me ASAP. Then I got out and cuddled with Ada's half-nakedness on the sidewalk until Rick was ready to put her back into the pukey car seat.
We almost made it home without further incident but... with three blocks left, she had to let the juice flow. Talk about an easy way to make a distracted driver. Poor Rick was ready to plow through anyone to get around the block and park at that point. Ada's screaming. The car reeks. Traffic isn't letting us through fast enough. It's times like these that I want a button in the car that makes it glow or flash hot pink to indicate to other motorists something like "Move please, I have a really good reason to have the right of way right now. Trust me. Thank you." If only the hazard flashers had that setting...
We were able to park in a temporary unloading spot out front while Rick carried Ada into the house while holding his breath, holding her at arms' length, listening to her scream and trying to comfort her all at once. Straight into the house and down the hall to the tub. He tagged out at that point and I tagged in --just like tag team wrestling, only it's a two-year old we're up against, and there is only one of her. He got to clean the car, bring the car seat in for a major scrub down, and find more permanent parking. I got to give Ada a bath and clean her up. Knowing that I got the better end of the deal, I let him have the honor of drying her off --it really is the best part of the bath as we've made quite the game of it. She runs naked, he catches her, dries and cuddles her, she squeals with delight. It almost makes up for having to clean up her puke. Almost.
Thankfully, the rest of the night proved to be uneventful which was a plesant surprise as I've been expecting, and dreading, the worst. We gave her some Singular and puffs from her inhaler. She coughed before bed, but we haven't heard a peep since. Now if only I could have caught up on some sleep this morning instead of getting up to write at 4 am. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow. Yawn.
Moral of the story: Keep a change of clothes (for your child, and maybe yourself), diapers, wipes, and a towel or two in the car for unexpected incidents. You never know when they'll come in handy, but odds are good you'll need them.
From this most recent episode, I'll say "You haven't experienced parenthood until..."
clearly, there are many ways to finish off this line. To which I'll add:
...you've been thrown up on four times within two hours.
...you've had regurgitated banana drip down your cleavage, twice in one night.
...you've run out of towels in the linen closet from all of the showers you, your husband and your child have used to wash off remnants of vomit.
...you want to change places with your sick child so they don't have to suffer anymore because they just don't understand what's going on with their little body.
Yesterday, Rick took Ada back to the Doctor, but it wasn't her regular Doctoress so it was a wasted visit in my opinion since the new Doctor said we'd have to wait until her regular Doctoress came in today to do anything more. Gee buddy, thanks for nothing.
On the way home from the Doctor's office, Rick picked me up from work and Ada proceeded to throw up all over the back seat of the car just a few blocks from my office. We pulled over and cleaned her up--or Rick cleaned her and the car up while I called the Doctoress' office to demand that they leave our normal Doctoress an urgent message to contact me ASAP. Then I got out and cuddled with Ada's half-nakedness on the sidewalk until Rick was ready to put her back into the pukey car seat.
We almost made it home without further incident but... with three blocks left, she had to let the juice flow. Talk about an easy way to make a distracted driver. Poor Rick was ready to plow through anyone to get around the block and park at that point. Ada's screaming. The car reeks. Traffic isn't letting us through fast enough. It's times like these that I want a button in the car that makes it glow or flash hot pink to indicate to other motorists something like "Move please, I have a really good reason to have the right of way right now. Trust me. Thank you." If only the hazard flashers had that setting...
We were able to park in a temporary unloading spot out front while Rick carried Ada into the house while holding his breath, holding her at arms' length, listening to her scream and trying to comfort her all at once. Straight into the house and down the hall to the tub. He tagged out at that point and I tagged in --just like tag team wrestling, only it's a two-year old we're up against, and there is only one of her. He got to clean the car, bring the car seat in for a major scrub down, and find more permanent parking. I got to give Ada a bath and clean her up. Knowing that I got the better end of the deal, I let him have the honor of drying her off --it really is the best part of the bath as we've made quite the game of it. She runs naked, he catches her, dries and cuddles her, she squeals with delight. It almost makes up for having to clean up her puke. Almost.
Thankfully, the rest of the night proved to be uneventful which was a plesant surprise as I've been expecting, and dreading, the worst. We gave her some Singular and puffs from her inhaler. She coughed before bed, but we haven't heard a peep since. Now if only I could have caught up on some sleep this morning instead of getting up to write at 4 am. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow. Yawn.
Moral of the story: Keep a change of clothes (for your child, and maybe yourself), diapers, wipes, and a towel or two in the car for unexpected incidents. You never know when they'll come in handy, but odds are good you'll need them.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Weird, Funny, Annoying and Disgusting
Weird, funny, annoying and disgusting things Ada has done this week:
Disgusting: I tossed the leftover frosting from a chocolate cake I had eaten the night before into our garbage can and used the side of the can to scrape off the fork. All was fine until Ada threw something away, saw the frosting and decided to have some--from the side of the garbage bag. I freaked out and quickly scrubbed her down and took the garbage out. Yuck.
Funny: On our walk home from day care on Thursday, we got to the corner by our house when Ada started screaming and pointing across the street. She's in a pointing phase now to communicate what she wants. And a bossy phase, but I digress. I waited for the street light to change and took her across the street only to have her walk up to the door of the ice cream shop and demand that I take her inside for a scoop. She must have been channeling a craving from BB in the belly because we all walked away happy. Oddly enough, we hadn't been to the ice cream shop in months due to my heartburn and crazy diet.
Weird: While on a walk yesterday, Ada picked up a small stick to carry. It wore out from her bending and swinging it so we quickly found another, more interesting stick with a good place to hold on to and several arching branches. She enjoyed it all the way around the block until we met up with a dog, I think he was a boxer, and he traded Ada a few kisses for the stick -- and then he devoured it. She found one final stick in front of our house and decided to bring it inside, and put it in her mouth just like the dog did. I washed it off, and her off, and now we have a pet stick.
Disgusting: I tossed the leftover frosting from a chocolate cake I had eaten the night before into our garbage can and used the side of the can to scrape off the fork. All was fine until Ada threw something away, saw the frosting and decided to have some--from the side of the garbage bag. I freaked out and quickly scrubbed her down and took the garbage out. Yuck.
Funny: On our walk home from day care on Thursday, we got to the corner by our house when Ada started screaming and pointing across the street. She's in a pointing phase now to communicate what she wants. And a bossy phase, but I digress. I waited for the street light to change and took her across the street only to have her walk up to the door of the ice cream shop and demand that I take her inside for a scoop. She must have been channeling a craving from BB in the belly because we all walked away happy. Oddly enough, we hadn't been to the ice cream shop in months due to my heartburn and crazy diet.
Weird: While on a walk yesterday, Ada picked up a small stick to carry. It wore out from her bending and swinging it so we quickly found another, more interesting stick with a good place to hold on to and several arching branches. She enjoyed it all the way around the block until we met up with a dog, I think he was a boxer, and he traded Ada a few kisses for the stick -- and then he devoured it. She found one final stick in front of our house and decided to bring it inside, and put it in her mouth just like the dog did. I washed it off, and her off, and now we have a pet stick.
Annoying: At nap time yesterday, I missed her "sleepy window" in order to feed her lunch. I should have just put her down and let her eat later but hindsight is 20/20. She refused to nap and when I thought she would just play quietly in her room, I laid down on the couch for a mini siesta myself. Twenty minutes later I awoke to her pink unicorn rocking horse on a repeat loop from hell "I'm a magical unicorn, I'm a, I'm a, I'm a magical unicorn..." as she kept pushing the button over and over and over, never letting it cycle through the whole song. I reacted like a grumpy bear by storming into her room, grabbing the unicorn by the handle at the side of its head and swinging it out of her room and into the hallway. GRRR. Then I gave up and let her lay on the couch with me until I woke up more properly five minutes later.
Weird: When I put her down for bed the other night, she refused to get into her toddler bed and insisted upon sleeping on the floor. She pulled down her pillow and blanket, grabbed her stuffed animals and laid down. At that point, I was too exhausted to care. I did warn Rick when he went in to get her the next morning not to step on her and sure enough, she was still lying on the floor in the middle of the room.
Funny: We had friends over for a BBQ last weekend and I cleaned the long mirror in our bedroom of all of the handprints at Ada's height. I didn't bother to clean the upper half of the mirror since I was cutting corners and knew it wasn't that dirty--after all, we don't eat a banana and then go dance in front of the mirror with sticky hands. When I looked at the mirror from an angle the next day, it was clear to see that I hadn't wiped the top down as it had a fine layer of dust adhered to the glass. Oops. At least we can see our legs and shoes clearly when we get dressed in the mornings.
Annoying: Trying to keep Ada from ruining things around the house is no easy task. Last week she was playing with the fireplace tools and I was fine with her using the broom tool since it was still new and had never been used. Then she moved on to the log grabber and scooted it across the cream part of the rug, revealing to me that it had indeed been used and was covered in black soot. That game ended fast and she is now banned from all touching of anything fireplace related. At least the soot came out with a little elbow grease and upholstery cleaner.
More Annoying: I'm a hawk about her and crayons as I've heard several horror stories of crayons and walls and all other surfaces really. She got crayon on her Easter dress and Grandma Ba miraculously got it all out. This time, she had the white crayon in hand and stroked it on the brown part of the rug before I could stop her (what are the odds?). I'll get around to cleaning that up this weekend hopefully.
Weird: She likes to taste the nuts in a trail mix and licks the ones she doesn't like, then leaves them on the floor or the table for you to throw away later. She also likes to dip french fries in ketchup or a sauce and then licks the sauce off and leaves the french fry on your plate. She's still a work in progress.
More Weird: Last night at dinner she poured salt onto the table from the shaker and then licked the table.
Disgusting: With her cough induced asthma, she's been throwing up a lot lately. That itself is gross. But the smell it leaves in your car even after you scrub the car seat is even worse.
Funny: In an attempt to make a cheese sauce for dinner to accompany a baked potato and steamed broccoli, I had a stick of butter in its wrapper sitting out on the counter. Ada grabbed it and took a bite out of it, through the packaging. I later found the chunk she spit it out lying on the floor. At least she didn't eat it.
Moral of the story: Each day that goes by with a child brings more surprises than you could ever imagine.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Ada's Eviction Notice
This is the story of how Ada's room, as she once knew it, is gone. Over. Done with. Fini.
Poor kid.
She wasn't even bad. She didn't do anything to deserve this. Other parents at least wait until their child is crawling out of the crib, Superman-ing off the top railing and threatening to break his or her neck. Not us meanies. Nope. We just took over, picked a date, and made things happen.
Whatever. She's not a poor little kid. Don't pity her. The way I see it, she just entered the land of the free. No crib to keep her confined. She's spoiled and just got super lucky with the fact that her old crib doesn't turn into a toddler bed, whereas the new one does. In order for Baby Brother (BB) to fit into her room, she had to move to the big girl bed, and freedom. Tough life, I know.
So how is she handling it? Well... the first afternoon as we tore apart her room, she told me to kiss off when I tried to get her to take a nap. I even crawled into the toddler bed with her--while holding my breath and praying that it would hold me, BB in the belly, and 35 lbs of Ada, not to mention her 10 stuffed animals that permanently inhabit the surface of her mattress. It held, and she held firm on the no nap front too. I gave up and we kept on cleaning, reorganizing, and rearranging. But I wasn't all that surprised when 8 pm came and Ada climbed up on my chest and belly for a cuddle, and passed out within five minutes. It must be exhausting watching movies while your parents rearrange your whole room. I know it was exhausting rearranging it. And I'm thankful I don't have to put cribs together more than once or twice in my lifetime. Next time I'm just going to watch the video online instead of trying to translate the instruction manual.
The good news is, she's been good about sleeping in there at night so far. And we won't be home for her to take a nap until a week from now so we can deal with that issue later. She doesn't seem to be able to really turn her door handle quite yet either so she's still semi-contained, at least confined to her room. We'll see how long that lasts.
Moral of the story: Some kids love their independence, others fear it. Hope for the best and try to instill an appreciation and acceptance of change in your child from day one. It pays off.
Poor kid.
She wasn't even bad. She didn't do anything to deserve this. Other parents at least wait until their child is crawling out of the crib, Superman-ing off the top railing and threatening to break his or her neck. Not us meanies. Nope. We just took over, picked a date, and made things happen.
Whatever. She's not a poor little kid. Don't pity her. The way I see it, she just entered the land of the free. No crib to keep her confined. She's spoiled and just got super lucky with the fact that her old crib doesn't turn into a toddler bed, whereas the new one does. In order for Baby Brother (BB) to fit into her room, she had to move to the big girl bed, and freedom. Tough life, I know.
So how is she handling it? Well... the first afternoon as we tore apart her room, she told me to kiss off when I tried to get her to take a nap. I even crawled into the toddler bed with her--while holding my breath and praying that it would hold me, BB in the belly, and 35 lbs of Ada, not to mention her 10 stuffed animals that permanently inhabit the surface of her mattress. It held, and she held firm on the no nap front too. I gave up and we kept on cleaning, reorganizing, and rearranging. But I wasn't all that surprised when 8 pm came and Ada climbed up on my chest and belly for a cuddle, and passed out within five minutes. It must be exhausting watching movies while your parents rearrange your whole room. I know it was exhausting rearranging it. And I'm thankful I don't have to put cribs together more than once or twice in my lifetime. Next time I'm just going to watch the video online instead of trying to translate the instruction manual.
The good news is, she's been good about sleeping in there at night so far. And we won't be home for her to take a nap until a week from now so we can deal with that issue later. She doesn't seem to be able to really turn her door handle quite yet either so she's still semi-contained, at least confined to her room. We'll see how long that lasts.
Free at last. Free at last. Ada Quinn is free at last.
I went in to take photos of the new set up tonight, but it's kind of a disaster zone so I'll have to wait a few more days.
Moral of the story: Some kids love their independence, others fear it. Hope for the best and try to instill an appreciation and acceptance of change in your child from day one. It pays off.
Monday, January 25, 2010
I'm bringing clumsy back...
Justin Timberlake might have brought "sexy back", but I'm bringing clumsy back... in a big way.
I thought about keeping track of my clumsiness, just to prove a point...but then I realized that it would only depress me to know how bad it really is. This is what happens when I'm pregnant. Not only does my brain turn to mush such that when trying to tell Ada not to drop her doll in the toilet, I first call it the garbage, something else I now can't even remember, and finally get "potty" on the third try. Whew! Talk about needing to S-L-O-W D-O-W-N!
Even if I tried moving at a snail's pace, I don't think it would be of much help. Not even five minutes ago, I had a near miss between my elbow and my water glass--which is now permanently plastic whenever I am at home or at work due to my breaking 2 glasses last pregnancy (one at each place)--lucky for me this time, it just teetered and didn't topple. I wasn't so fortunate two nights ago when I knocked over the glass next to our bed with my pillow, or the day before that when I kicked it while trying to move Ada to the couch(that's what I get for putting it on the floor - I know), or the night before that when I, again, decided the top of my dresser--and what the heck, the whole wall and floorspace behind it--needed a nice dusting/cleaning/scrub down just before we tucked in for the night. Surely I'm just getting warmed up. I mean, I still have 22 weeks before this baby is born. Last pregnancy was so bad that a co-worker bought me a sippy cup for Christmas and I had a full roll of paper towels on constant guard at my desk. Beyond ridiculous.
And for some reason that is completely beyond me, pregnant or not, I can't seem to figure out how to stay focused on the refrigerator in-door water dispenser long enough to pay attention to when it is nearing the cup's full point and remove the glass from the door. Nine times out of ten (I kid you not) it overflows onto the floor. It's such a habit now that I just laugh and have a dishtowel permanently placed at the foot of the refrigerator. Sad. Poor Rick still puts up with me even though it drives him INSANE. Hey, at least that one kitchen floor tile is constantly clean, right?
And it isn't just water. Two nights ago I spilled a bowl of dry (thank goodness) cheerios all over the hallway when I was trying to balance them on an empty soup bowl, with a water glass in the other hand. I would have been fine had I not then used the hand balancing the cheerios to attempt to turn on the hall light. Damn multi-tasking and trying to be efficient! I then went on to curse Rick (sorry honey) for not noticing that I'm a total and complete nutcase, incapable of balancing all of these things and he should pay more attention to what he can carry back to the kitchen from the living room in an attempt to save my sanity. Sad part is, it's really only about 30 feet between the two rooms, if that. Not sure how "efficient" I really am, especially if you calculate in all of the spills I've had and the clean up time. Surely I'm negative overall.
Then there are all of the new bruises that just happen to appear when I'm pregnant. I run into doors, door handles, walls, door frames, bed frames, coffee tables, counter tops, and dining room tables. I hit myself with the car door, the front door, and the bathroom door (it's a small bathroom and the damn diaper laundry bin limits its range of motion, so there!). Either my hips widen (which I really don't think is the case) or my brain just shorts out (much more likely). And this time there is the Ada factor. So far this morning I've received a puffy lip, several blows to the face, chest, and abdomen, and surely others that I can't even remember. She doesn't quite have control of her body and, while we try to teach her not to hit, she's still learning and most of it is accidental. But put the two of us together and you've got trouble.
And why is it that she insists on scooting all the way back whenever she sits on my lap? She tries to sit, literally, on top of my belly and then slides down to my lap. That doesn't feel so good. It's like she can't get close enough so she just goes back as far as possible and hopes she ends up with a comfy seat.
Needless to say, I've got a long 22 weeks ahead of me. But at least I can take credit for making clumsy cool again -- or I can try.
Moral of the story: Pregnancy does all sorts of weird things to your body that you just have to adjust to. Slow down. Relax. Learn to laugh it off and accept that yes, you are crazy--but that's normal.
I thought about keeping track of my clumsiness, just to prove a point...but then I realized that it would only depress me to know how bad it really is. This is what happens when I'm pregnant. Not only does my brain turn to mush such that when trying to tell Ada not to drop her doll in the toilet, I first call it the garbage, something else I now can't even remember, and finally get "potty" on the third try. Whew! Talk about needing to S-L-O-W D-O-W-N!
Even if I tried moving at a snail's pace, I don't think it would be of much help. Not even five minutes ago, I had a near miss between my elbow and my water glass--which is now permanently plastic whenever I am at home or at work due to my breaking 2 glasses last pregnancy (one at each place)--lucky for me this time, it just teetered and didn't topple. I wasn't so fortunate two nights ago when I knocked over the glass next to our bed with my pillow, or the day before that when I kicked it while trying to move Ada to the couch(that's what I get for putting it on the floor - I know), or the night before that when I, again, decided the top of my dresser--and what the heck, the whole wall and floorspace behind it--needed a nice dusting/cleaning/scrub down just before we tucked in for the night. Surely I'm just getting warmed up. I mean, I still have 22 weeks before this baby is born. Last pregnancy was so bad that a co-worker bought me a sippy cup for Christmas and I had a full roll of paper towels on constant guard at my desk. Beyond ridiculous.
And for some reason that is completely beyond me, pregnant or not, I can't seem to figure out how to stay focused on the refrigerator in-door water dispenser long enough to pay attention to when it is nearing the cup's full point and remove the glass from the door. Nine times out of ten (I kid you not) it overflows onto the floor. It's such a habit now that I just laugh and have a dishtowel permanently placed at the foot of the refrigerator. Sad. Poor Rick still puts up with me even though it drives him INSANE. Hey, at least that one kitchen floor tile is constantly clean, right?
And it isn't just water. Two nights ago I spilled a bowl of dry (thank goodness) cheerios all over the hallway when I was trying to balance them on an empty soup bowl, with a water glass in the other hand. I would have been fine had I not then used the hand balancing the cheerios to attempt to turn on the hall light. Damn multi-tasking and trying to be efficient! I then went on to curse Rick (sorry honey) for not noticing that I'm a total and complete nutcase, incapable of balancing all of these things and he should pay more attention to what he can carry back to the kitchen from the living room in an attempt to save my sanity. Sad part is, it's really only about 30 feet between the two rooms, if that. Not sure how "efficient" I really am, especially if you calculate in all of the spills I've had and the clean up time. Surely I'm negative overall.
Then there are all of the new bruises that just happen to appear when I'm pregnant. I run into doors, door handles, walls, door frames, bed frames, coffee tables, counter tops, and dining room tables. I hit myself with the car door, the front door, and the bathroom door (it's a small bathroom and the damn diaper laundry bin limits its range of motion, so there!). Either my hips widen (which I really don't think is the case) or my brain just shorts out (much more likely). And this time there is the Ada factor. So far this morning I've received a puffy lip, several blows to the face, chest, and abdomen, and surely others that I can't even remember. She doesn't quite have control of her body and, while we try to teach her not to hit, she's still learning and most of it is accidental. But put the two of us together and you've got trouble.
And why is it that she insists on scooting all the way back whenever she sits on my lap? She tries to sit, literally, on top of my belly and then slides down to my lap. That doesn't feel so good. It's like she can't get close enough so she just goes back as far as possible and hopes she ends up with a comfy seat.
Needless to say, I've got a long 22 weeks ahead of me. But at least I can take credit for making clumsy cool again -- or I can try.
Moral of the story: Pregnancy does all sorts of weird things to your body that you just have to adjust to. Slow down. Relax. Learn to laugh it off and accept that yes, you are crazy--but that's normal.
Friday, January 22, 2010
The 24 Hour Bug
It's finally here. We've been fearing it all winter and it finally arrived. Ada caught a 24 hour flu bug and it hit her yesterday afternoon. Talk about a rough 24 hours for the poor kid, not to mention tough on us (and our plans for the weekend now that we are contagious and awaiting the full-blown cootie invasion ourselves). Gesh.
We've done eight loads of laundry. Changed the sheets on our bed, her bed, her bed again. Covered the couch in blankets, towels, more blankets and more towels. Wiped up the floor in the kitchen, the floor in the hallway, the floor in the bathroom and the floor tiles in her room all due to messes caused by (what I call) the stomach flu. I've changed shirts and pants more times than I can count, both hers and mine, and finally took a nice cleansing shower at 10:30 last night when I was so covered in yuck I couldn't bear it any longer. Luckily, I suggested Rick change out of his work clothes, including his new dress pants, prior to tagging in for some Ada cuddles after work. Shortly after he changed, she begged for "wa-wa" and he succumbed to her whines, being careful not to let her have too much. But after awhile, she had worked him down and "not too much" became "more than enough" when it ended up all over him, his pants, and the couch--which got nailed three or four times even with all of the blankets and towels we could find to cover it and ourselves (Next time I'm getting garbage bags or a plastic drop cloth).
After changing her outfit three times in the first hour, I decided our house heaters, and her temperature, made it okay for her to don a diaper and a blanket or towel as needed. At one point, we had barely pulled the towels out of the dryer in time for her and Rick to dry off after her second shower of the night.
You know it's bad when, after draining the tub and wrapping her in a towel, she curls into the fetal position while still in the tub and hunkers down as if for the rest of the night. That was my sign that she desperately needed some rest and was too tired for me to even bother with a diaper at that point. She was so dehydrated that the diaper wasn't going to do any good and I knew she'd be up in three hours anyway.
I highly recommend you have a "tag team" system in place for sick kid days. I, once again, have no clue how I would have handled it all without Rick. Between running up and down the stairs for laundry, across the street to pick up dinner and, later on, shakes. Lifting Ada up and down out of the crib, off the couch, into the tub, out of the tub, into our bed, out of our bed. And then there is the whole task of waking up in the middle of the night with her. Rick got the first two times as I was a worthless lump in the bed at that point. I got the early morning wake up call at 6 am, which turned into me being the "wa-wa" sucker and having it come back to get me, literally, half-an-hour later in the form of a mess on the kitchen floor.
So if you want to see your heart break, just spend time with, or even look at, a sick child who doesn't understand why her little body is expelling a bunch of crud from her tummy. She just doesn't understand yet. All energy is drained and she can't understand why you won't give her water, even when she asks politely. It's awful.
On the bright side, I learned a few more tricks to add to my Mommy-arsenal.
1. Cover large areas with bath towels - or even beach towels if you get desperate- and then layer them with smaller hand towels, cloth diapers, or burp cloths that are easier to wash and replace.
2. When your child is demanding water, give them a few sips and then rub a piece of ice on their lips. Wrap the ice in a thin washcloth or a handkerchief and let them suck on it.
3. Consider raising the heat or just keep them covered so you don't have to wash their clothes every five seconds. Turns out that sick kids hate being dressed and undressed.
4. Have a lot of blankets and backup bed sheets on hand whenever possible, just in case.
5. When in doubt, just keep feeding movies into the DVD player while snuggling on the couch. Ada highly recommends Finding Nemo, Cars, and Toy Story 1 and 2.
Moral of the story: Sick sucks. Call in backup for help with mess reduction and pull out your patience reserves. You're going to need them... and a nap.
We've done eight loads of laundry. Changed the sheets on our bed, her bed, her bed again. Covered the couch in blankets, towels, more blankets and more towels. Wiped up the floor in the kitchen, the floor in the hallway, the floor in the bathroom and the floor tiles in her room all due to messes caused by (what I call) the stomach flu. I've changed shirts and pants more times than I can count, both hers and mine, and finally took a nice cleansing shower at 10:30 last night when I was so covered in yuck I couldn't bear it any longer. Luckily, I suggested Rick change out of his work clothes, including his new dress pants, prior to tagging in for some Ada cuddles after work. Shortly after he changed, she begged for "wa-wa" and he succumbed to her whines, being careful not to let her have too much. But after awhile, she had worked him down and "not too much" became "more than enough" when it ended up all over him, his pants, and the couch--which got nailed three or four times even with all of the blankets and towels we could find to cover it and ourselves (Next time I'm getting garbage bags or a plastic drop cloth).
After changing her outfit three times in the first hour, I decided our house heaters, and her temperature, made it okay for her to don a diaper and a blanket or towel as needed. At one point, we had barely pulled the towels out of the dryer in time for her and Rick to dry off after her second shower of the night.
You know it's bad when, after draining the tub and wrapping her in a towel, she curls into the fetal position while still in the tub and hunkers down as if for the rest of the night. That was my sign that she desperately needed some rest and was too tired for me to even bother with a diaper at that point. She was so dehydrated that the diaper wasn't going to do any good and I knew she'd be up in three hours anyway.
I highly recommend you have a "tag team" system in place for sick kid days. I, once again, have no clue how I would have handled it all without Rick. Between running up and down the stairs for laundry, across the street to pick up dinner and, later on, shakes. Lifting Ada up and down out of the crib, off the couch, into the tub, out of the tub, into our bed, out of our bed. And then there is the whole task of waking up in the middle of the night with her. Rick got the first two times as I was a worthless lump in the bed at that point. I got the early morning wake up call at 6 am, which turned into me being the "wa-wa" sucker and having it come back to get me, literally, half-an-hour later in the form of a mess on the kitchen floor.
So if you want to see your heart break, just spend time with, or even look at, a sick child who doesn't understand why her little body is expelling a bunch of crud from her tummy. She just doesn't understand yet. All energy is drained and she can't understand why you won't give her water, even when she asks politely. It's awful.
On the bright side, I learned a few more tricks to add to my Mommy-arsenal.
1. Cover large areas with bath towels - or even beach towels if you get desperate- and then layer them with smaller hand towels, cloth diapers, or burp cloths that are easier to wash and replace.
2. When your child is demanding water, give them a few sips and then rub a piece of ice on their lips. Wrap the ice in a thin washcloth or a handkerchief and let them suck on it.
3. Consider raising the heat or just keep them covered so you don't have to wash their clothes every five seconds. Turns out that sick kids hate being dressed and undressed.
4. Have a lot of blankets and backup bed sheets on hand whenever possible, just in case.
5. When in doubt, just keep feeding movies into the DVD player while snuggling on the couch. Ada highly recommends Finding Nemo, Cars, and Toy Story 1 and 2.
Moral of the story: Sick sucks. Call in backup for help with mess reduction and pull out your patience reserves. You're going to need them... and a nap.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
My Friday Before Dinner
It's Friday. I've invited my college buddies over for dinner and what started out as just us and my friend Bob for dinner, turned into us three, Bob, Vern, Cara, Alex, Kim, Ted, Alison and Will. Sweet. We tend to have trouble finding time when we can all get together and this impromptu thing ended up working out really well.
Knowing that I can't cook, I arranged to order pizza and have it arrive about 6:45. Everyone planned to arrive around 6:30 or 7 and that seemed like as good a plan as any. We've learned from past dinners that if we don't pre-order, we starve while waiting for the food and then don't have time to play a game afterward, which is really what this is all about. Having fun with old friends, and playing games.
I had a few errands to run before picking Ada up so I left work at 4:30. I went to the ATM, then went to a different bank to make a deposit for the condo association. I have two letters in my hand that I need to mail. Previously, when making the condo association bank deposit, I though I had inadvertently put the envelope I keep the ATM card in, into the mail drop box with a bill I was mailing then. That resulted in me being distracted and telling the story about just how I'd lost the card when Ada fell down the back porch stairs. Yikes. Don't want a repeat of that. (It turns out that the ATM card was in an envelope on the kitchen counter the whole time.)
This time, I again have letters to mail so I crossed the street to deposit two bills into a postal drop box and re-crossed the street to be on the south side for the entry to the El train home. As I'm waiting for the light, it dawns on me that I can't remember where I put the ATM card. The light turns in my favor and I cross the street while quickly, not frantically but concernedly, digging in my purse for the ATM card envelope. I know it's there. I just can't find it under all of the crap I have. Why do I have a sippy cup, a diaper, wipes, and goldfish snacks in here? How the heck am I supposed to find...SMACK!
Oh no I didn't. Oh yes you did.
While intensely focusing on the contents of my purse, I continued to walk toward the El station and completely lost all awareness of my surroundings and walked straight into...wait for it...A BUS SHELTER. Thunk. My calf, knee and head all connected with the advertising side of the small structure.
"Oh My God. I did not just do that", I think.
"Oh yes I did." I start laughing uncontrollably. Then I realize, "What if there is someone waiting for a bus? They must think I'm an idiot."
I peer around the corner of the shelter. Yep. Hi there. In my head I'm saying, "That was me who just walked into the side of this place. Sorry about that. Hope I didn't startle you but damn, that's funny." In reality, I shot her a quick glance with the biggest smile on my face and quickly continued on my way down the street. Laughing to myself and at myself the whole way to the El train. Then I laughed even more as I sent my friend Colette a text retelling the event.
But that's not all.
I got Ada, got home and all but forgot about the previous "incident", putting it in my back pocket for a funny story later on. It was time I focus on cleaning up the last bits of things that are out of place and feeding Ada before everyone starts to arrive.
All is going well. I've done the dishes and she helped me put them away - which I encouraged as I quickly grabbed each glass plate and dish she handed to me from the bottom rack of the dishwasher. Boy was that nerve-wracking but she insisted on helping.
Ada is eating. I'm settled in to watch some Grey's Anatomy on ABC.com (since we don't have cable). I've supplied Ada with a gourmet dinner of bagel, goldfish crackers, graham crackers, turkey, and apple sauce. And I've just dumped out our old milk and given her a full cup of milk that tasted okay to me but is on it's last day as well. Why does our milk seem to go bad so quickly these days? I text Rick to have him pick up new milk since our friend Bob is coming over and that man drinks more milk than anyone I've ever seen in my entire life. Multiple gallons in a week. He could have been a dairy cow in another life.
All is well in the world. Rick comes home and greets us. He removes his winter coat (yes, I know it's early October!) and settles in next to us to see what is going on. I have two minutes left on Grey's Anatomy and friends will be arriving anytime now. Ada's finishing up dinner and... then... it starts. As we are sitting around all content with the world, Ada starts throwing up her entire dinner. At first, we think she's just choking on something and is going to spit it out. Then it keeps coming up, and up, and up. She has expelled everything in her stomach. All over herself, the highchair, the floor. Everywhere.
"It must have been the milk. I didn't think it was 'bad' but it clearly wasn't 'good'. Let's clean her up." I mutter as I take her to the bathroom while holding her at arms length, hoping to stay clean.
She is, by this time, hysterical. Screaming. Not quite sure what the heck is going on or why she has her dinner all over her body. I've got her in the tub and she won't let me take her vomit covered shirt off. I'm tugging, she's resisting. Finally I win and get her naked. I turn on the shower and start to spray her down. She's still hysterical.
"Screw it." I think to myself as she reaches out to me, wet, naked, and covered in her regurgitated dinner. She crawls out of the tub and into my fully-clothed, dry clothes and clean arms and cries. I get her to calm down a bit and then decide to join her in the shower to comfort her and get her cleaned up. So what if I have 8 people coming over for dinner in just a matter of minutes. They are such good friends, I practically consider them family.
I'm in the shower with her when I hear the first door buzzer. At least Rick's home to let people in. I'm shampooing her hair for the second buzz. We are rinsing off for the third tone. And we are standing naked, dripping wet and trying to towel off when the pizza arrives. Thankfully I set out money for the pizza guy ahead of time and Bob took care of it all. My kind of house guests.
I passed Ada out to Rick so he could get her dressed again. Then I quickly shuffle around the hall corner to my bedroom to get decent. A quick glance in the mirror reveals that my mascara has run, but overall my makeup is salvageable and my hair isn't too wet. Five minutes and a whole new outfit later, I'm dishing up pizza and enjoying friends.
About an hour later, I remember that good old bus shelter incident and decide it's a great time to share one of my most "blonde" moments ever as tears of laughter gush from my eyes.
Good times had by all.
Moral of the story: The best friends are those that can help themselves and love you just the way you are. And those that laugh with you instead of at you. Just keep laughing at yourself.
Parenting rule to live by: When in doubt, throw it out.
Knowing that I can't cook, I arranged to order pizza and have it arrive about 6:45. Everyone planned to arrive around 6:30 or 7 and that seemed like as good a plan as any. We've learned from past dinners that if we don't pre-order, we starve while waiting for the food and then don't have time to play a game afterward, which is really what this is all about. Having fun with old friends, and playing games.
I had a few errands to run before picking Ada up so I left work at 4:30. I went to the ATM, then went to a different bank to make a deposit for the condo association. I have two letters in my hand that I need to mail. Previously, when making the condo association bank deposit, I though I had inadvertently put the envelope I keep the ATM card in, into the mail drop box with a bill I was mailing then. That resulted in me being distracted and telling the story about just how I'd lost the card when Ada fell down the back porch stairs. Yikes. Don't want a repeat of that. (It turns out that the ATM card was in an envelope on the kitchen counter the whole time.)
This time, I again have letters to mail so I crossed the street to deposit two bills into a postal drop box and re-crossed the street to be on the south side for the entry to the El train home. As I'm waiting for the light, it dawns on me that I can't remember where I put the ATM card. The light turns in my favor and I cross the street while quickly, not frantically but concernedly, digging in my purse for the ATM card envelope. I know it's there. I just can't find it under all of the crap I have. Why do I have a sippy cup, a diaper, wipes, and goldfish snacks in here? How the heck am I supposed to find...SMACK!
Oh no I didn't. Oh yes you did.
While intensely focusing on the contents of my purse, I continued to walk toward the El station and completely lost all awareness of my surroundings and walked straight into...wait for it...A BUS SHELTER. Thunk. My calf, knee and head all connected with the advertising side of the small structure.
"Oh My God. I did not just do that", I think.
"Oh yes I did." I start laughing uncontrollably. Then I realize, "What if there is someone waiting for a bus? They must think I'm an idiot."
I peer around the corner of the shelter. Yep. Hi there. In my head I'm saying, "That was me who just walked into the side of this place. Sorry about that. Hope I didn't startle you but damn, that's funny." In reality, I shot her a quick glance with the biggest smile on my face and quickly continued on my way down the street. Laughing to myself and at myself the whole way to the El train. Then I laughed even more as I sent my friend Colette a text retelling the event.
But that's not all.
I got Ada, got home and all but forgot about the previous "incident", putting it in my back pocket for a funny story later on. It was time I focus on cleaning up the last bits of things that are out of place and feeding Ada before everyone starts to arrive.
All is going well. I've done the dishes and she helped me put them away - which I encouraged as I quickly grabbed each glass plate and dish she handed to me from the bottom rack of the dishwasher. Boy was that nerve-wracking but she insisted on helping.
Ada is eating. I'm settled in to watch some Grey's Anatomy on ABC.com (since we don't have cable). I've supplied Ada with a gourmet dinner of bagel, goldfish crackers, graham crackers, turkey, and apple sauce. And I've just dumped out our old milk and given her a full cup of milk that tasted okay to me but is on it's last day as well. Why does our milk seem to go bad so quickly these days? I text Rick to have him pick up new milk since our friend Bob is coming over and that man drinks more milk than anyone I've ever seen in my entire life. Multiple gallons in a week. He could have been a dairy cow in another life.
All is well in the world. Rick comes home and greets us. He removes his winter coat (yes, I know it's early October!) and settles in next to us to see what is going on. I have two minutes left on Grey's Anatomy and friends will be arriving anytime now. Ada's finishing up dinner and... then... it starts. As we are sitting around all content with the world, Ada starts throwing up her entire dinner. At first, we think she's just choking on something and is going to spit it out. Then it keeps coming up, and up, and up. She has expelled everything in her stomach. All over herself, the highchair, the floor. Everywhere.
"It must have been the milk. I didn't think it was 'bad' but it clearly wasn't 'good'. Let's clean her up." I mutter as I take her to the bathroom while holding her at arms length, hoping to stay clean.
She is, by this time, hysterical. Screaming. Not quite sure what the heck is going on or why she has her dinner all over her body. I've got her in the tub and she won't let me take her vomit covered shirt off. I'm tugging, she's resisting. Finally I win and get her naked. I turn on the shower and start to spray her down. She's still hysterical.
"Screw it." I think to myself as she reaches out to me, wet, naked, and covered in her regurgitated dinner. She crawls out of the tub and into my fully-clothed, dry clothes and clean arms and cries. I get her to calm down a bit and then decide to join her in the shower to comfort her and get her cleaned up. So what if I have 8 people coming over for dinner in just a matter of minutes. They are such good friends, I practically consider them family.
I'm in the shower with her when I hear the first door buzzer. At least Rick's home to let people in. I'm shampooing her hair for the second buzz. We are rinsing off for the third tone. And we are standing naked, dripping wet and trying to towel off when the pizza arrives. Thankfully I set out money for the pizza guy ahead of time and Bob took care of it all. My kind of house guests.
I passed Ada out to Rick so he could get her dressed again. Then I quickly shuffle around the hall corner to my bedroom to get decent. A quick glance in the mirror reveals that my mascara has run, but overall my makeup is salvageable and my hair isn't too wet. Five minutes and a whole new outfit later, I'm dishing up pizza and enjoying friends.
About an hour later, I remember that good old bus shelter incident and decide it's a great time to share one of my most "blonde" moments ever as tears of laughter gush from my eyes.
Good times had by all.
Moral of the story: The best friends are those that can help themselves and love you just the way you are. And those that laugh with you instead of at you. Just keep laughing at yourself.
Parenting rule to live by: When in doubt, throw it out.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Cloth Diaper Trick
For those of you who are braving the intense grossness of washing your own cloth diapers... here it is. Finally. After doing this for a year and three quarters, Rick finally had the idea that maybe, just maybe, we should give all of the diapers a good rinsing before depositing them into the wet pail for the three days before they stank so bad we'd have to wash them. We used to just rinse out the poopy ones. Now we give the wet ones a whirl in the toilet bowl or under the sink briefly before transferring them to the wet pail.
Result? Not so stinky. Now we forget to wash them every three days...which kind of creates another kind of problem since the bin gets filled to the brim and almost doesn't fit into our washing machine. But that's a much better problem to have.
Moral of the story: Rinse as you go.
Result? Not so stinky. Now we forget to wash them every three days...which kind of creates another kind of problem since the bin gets filled to the brim and almost doesn't fit into our washing machine. But that's a much better problem to have.
Moral of the story: Rinse as you go.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
1.5 Year Check Up
Today was Ada's 1.5 year checkup. She got another shot (whoopity do). Then the doctoress pulled out the milestone checklist to see how Ada is doing compare to other kids. She's still off the charts for height and weight. Her gross motor skills are fine. But her communications skills are lacking. One theory is that she uses sign language pretty well and that's slowing down the need for her to use words. At this age, she should have five to twenty words or so. Ada says Mama, Dada, BaBa (not for bottle -- just because) and that's it.
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.
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.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Getting Older...
So this past Tuesday was the big 3-0 for me. I'm starting a new decade. Crazy.
For my birthday, I asked for a full-length mirror. I'm too old to keep asking my husband if my outfit matches and saying "how does this look?" or "what about this?" whenever I have a wardrobe crisis--which is happening with increasing frequency these days.
Being the nice guy that he is, Rick took me on an adventure to Ikea to scope out mirrors. When we found one we wanted, we couldn't get it into the car with Ada and I still in it. So he went back a few days later and surprised me with it.
Holy big mirror.
Then we had to hang it. But first we had to find the drill's extra battery pack and charger so we could sink anchors big enough to hold this 42 pound beast on the wall. We turned the house upside down looking for this battery pack and charger. (This is my actual birthday we're doing this. How romantic and just what I always wanted!) Rick spent half an hour in the storage units downstairs looking for it. I went up to our neighbor's place and looked to see if we loaned it to her and forgot to get it back.
No where. Nada trace. Nothing. (If you're psychic powers can help, let me know because we still haven't found it.)
Then we borrowed our neighbor's drill and realized we didn't have anchors that would hold that much weight and would have to do the install the next day anyway.
Finally, we got the anchors installed, got the mirror on the wall, cleaned it up all nice and pretty. Rick spent 10 minutes working the streaks off the glass with a paper towel all meticulously. Perfect. We stood back and admired our handy work and the nice, new, enormous mirror.
I'm thinking... "So this is what I look like." It's a full scale version of me. Not just the top half that fits in the mirror above the sink. Not me standing on the tub, leaning against the opposite wall on an angle to see if my skirt looks okay. Not me kicking up my heels to see if my shoes match my outfit. Not me standing on the dining room chair to see what I look like in the mirror over the fireplace. And not me taking a photo of my skirt, shoes and legs to see if I can make an outfit work. But me. Just me. Just like I'm in a fitting room.
This is going to come in handy--until I forget it's there, drop my towel in the morning and scare the bejesus out of naked me with my naked reflection. I know that time will come...
Until then...
Well, let's just say we woke up this morning and who walks into our room but little miss Ada.
She looks at me. She looks at the mirror. Cool mom. Then she sees herself. Then she points to herself. Then she starts pounding on the mirror with open palms, giving herself high-fives and thinking she's on a play date with the world's coolest kid that just happens to look just like her and do exactly what she does. Neat.
Then it hits me (not literally -- Rick got anchors that will pin a horse to the wall).
We'll be cleaning it daily. It's going to turn into the never ending wall of fingerprints.
Great.
See what I mean... she's only known it was there for 12 hours...
But it does look nice. (minus the hand prints)
Thanks Ricky.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Make cleaning fun again!
As I mentioned previously, Ada hates the vacuum. She screams and throws a fit when we turn it on. In order to get her to like it when we clean house, Rick devised a new game. We like to call it the Ada Mop. It looks more like daddy powered speed skating and isn't very effective at cleaning the floors beyond the hallway, but it does make for a much needed laugh break.
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