Wednesday, December 29, 2010
With everything that goes on during the month of December, I just don't have it in me to blog. Except last year, but that was an exception, and I was a total downer.
January is a tough month for blogging too, as it is year end at work and there is lots and lots to do.
So for now, I'll just fill you in on some random life tidbits from December...
Charlotte was 15.5 lbs and 25 inches long at her 4 month check up. This puts her in the 90th percentile for height and weight. She'll be bigger than Samantha pretty soon, who was 23lbs the same day. At 23 months.
Charlie is now a real kid...developing her own personality, smiling, giggling, and loving life. She is no longer a ball of mush...which is good considering her size. She loves to sit up and watch everyone, especially Sam and Fonz, but has very little to no interest in rolling over or becoming mobile. I am sure that I will regret wishing she could move, even if only a little bit.
Sam has become re-obsessed with everything baby. She puts her babies to sleep, feeds them, gives them pacifiers, wraps them in "towels", pushes them in her stroller and Charlie's new walker, and occasionally tosses them down the stairs.
Christmas was crazy busy around our house. We traveled a lot and saw everyone we wanted to see, and then some. Sam loves all of her toys, but especially her baby stroller, the little minivan (the doors only lasted about a half an hour) and the nursery center where can FEED and BATHE and CHANGE her babies. Oh yes...she also loves all of her babies. All 6 of them.
She has become quite the little girl too. Her personality has blossomed. She loves to dance and laugh, and she has a great sense of humor. She is somewhat of a free spirit, and I hope she stays that way. She doesn't care what anyone thinks, she just does her thing...whether it be dancing in a circle or playing on her piano.
I am already looking forward to next Christmas, the plans are set. I have already put reminders in Outlook to start shopping and start decorating and put up lights on the outside of our house. No rushing around next year!!
I am also SUPER excited about swim classes that the girls are signed up for. These are not typical swim classes, oh no. These are survival classes. At the end of 6 weeks, Charlie will know how to swim to the surface and roll over and float should she fall in the water. Sam will also know how to do that, plus swim to safety...taking breaks by floating if she gets tired. It is AMAZING and is called Infant Swimming Resource. I can't wait to show off their new skills once they graduate. I also hope it helps Sam get over getting her face wet. Washing her hair has become quite annoying, what with all the whining. We just can't convince her to LOOK UP!
Kabo is doing good...I remember about this time every year how much I dislike it when he has his full coat. The FUR!! The SHEDDING!! No amount of brushing gets rid of the fur you get in your eyes when you bury your head in his neck. He is loving the snow, but showing his age. In and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out...50 times a day. Oy.
OK kids...I've got to get productive. Have a great New Year if I don't talk to ya'll!!!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
I bought this chair about a year ago for Sam. I found it on http://www.woot.com/, which is a funny website to check and read every day just for the hell of it. I thought I scored this awesome deal on this adorable chair, and I could just picture Sam chillin' in it and reading her books before bed, or while we watched TV. As soon as we got it, we set it up in the living room.
She liked it OK, and used it mostly to put her baby on it, and take the baby off, and put it back on, and off...you get the picture. Occasionally, she would sit on it, and feed her baby a bottle. This was all pre-Charlie, while I was pregnant, but way before we decided to rock her world by telling her that a REAL baby was invading it and taking all of mom's attention. (Ironically, after we told her about Charlie, her own baby suddenly fell out of favor. Wonder why.)
So I was vacuuming one day, and she is doing her damndest to get in my way, so I picked her up and plopped her on her chair. And she stayed there, crying, but she stayed nonetheless. I was just happy to get all the shit off of the floor that stuck to my feet when I walked without having to constantly push a toddler out of my way. As I continued to vacuum, her cries continued, and possibly got louder, although I can't really be sure, since, you know, I was vacuuming. But she stayed on the chair.
In the meantime, Workaholic heard her cries and came out of the office to see what was going on. He leaned over the railing directly above her and laughed at how persistant she was being...with the crying and all, yet did not get off of the chair. I too, laughed, and we were both just amazed at how she wanted off that damn chair so badly, yet wouldn't get off because I had put her there. You know, so I could vacuum.
After I was done and turned off the oh-so-noisy machine, I realized just how loudly she had been yelling. And she had actual tears. And she was sort of standing on the chair now. Except she really couldn't stand, because her foot was stuck between the side of the chair and the cushion. Oopsy. So she wasn't staying on the chair out of some genuine, really deep respect for the mother who had put her there, she was stuck on the chair, which by now had become her own prison.
And she developed a deep hatred for that chair. For a while, we would pick on her by putting her baby or her beloved blanket on the chair just to see her cry and run and pick it up and scream "NO!" And then that just got boring and so the chair was banished to the basement. Her playroom was down there, but there was quite a bit of time where we just didn't have the time to hang out in the basement. So it has been out of sight, out of mind for a while.
Tonight, Sam stayed in her playroom while I went to get Charlie up from her nap. And when I came back, she was sitting in that chair, reading books. Just like I always pictured. And as soon as I walked in, she got off that damn chair before I could take a picture. So I put Charlie in the chair. Because damn it, one of my girls will like it.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
That is going to be my theme for 2011.
I don't know how it is going to work out.
7 years ago, Workaholic was deeply involved in building our house. He built it himself. With (LOTS) of help from his dad and brothers and various friends who he had helped to build their houses.
6 1/2 years ago, we moved into our house. We incurred some debt buying furniture. (And yes, we have paid it off.) Here is the thing about our house...it is pretty big. We have lots of rooms and closets that we thought we would never ever use when we built this house. I was very adamant that there was plenty of room to "store" things and enough space to make any woman happy. The intention was to sell the house after 2 years, we would never need all that room. I didn't worry too much about decorating, or hanging pictures on the walls, because there was no point, we wouldn't be there forever.
And suddenly, I find myself out of room. I don't understand, or even know how it happened. I suppose the 2 small children have contributed. And my frequent trips to the outlets mall, and online shopping too. And having a husband who doesn't believe in telling me "no" didn't help either.
But I look around my bedroom and see things that need to be "put away." I see things that I don't REALLY need. I see closets full of clothes that Workaholic forgot he owned, and so I keep buying him more. (see above regarding the outlet mall) I go into the girls' rooms and see clothes that they have already outgrown, even though I JUST took them out of storage. I go into my dining room...and then just turn around and walk out. I buy picture frames to hang up family photos and realize that I have no wall room left. I don't know how this happened.
I am not sure where we are going to put the 12 foot tall Christmas tree that my in-laws are handing down to us. There is baby stuff cluttering my living room...a baby swing, bouncy seat, toy chest, Bumbo seat, floor activity mat...not to mention the assortment of dog toys and children's books that are strewn daily across the floor.
I am used to leaving my house on the weekends, getting away, and forgetting all about the mess. Forgetting about my lack of organization, my knack for leaving things laying around, and the usually empty pantry and refrigerator. Going away is my saving grace, but also my downfall, as leaving your home during the time when most people get all their shit done is not very conducive to getting things done.
I am home this weekend. Workaholic got Thanksgiving Day off, but has been working ever since. Sometimes there are times like this, he gets close to the end of a job and it is crunch time. It is what it is. I should be using this time to pick up the house. Clean the clutter. Put away the Halloween costumes that have been staring at me for a month. Clean off the counters in the kitchen and wrap and hide Christmas presents. Now is not the time of year to be disorganized.
Perhaps I will. Maybe I'll finish writing this, watch the rest of the NCIS episode that is on USA, and go find an empty storage bin. Maybe I'll put away the laundry, vacuum the upstairs, and feed my girls dinner. Maybe I'll take a nap and hope that when I wake up, it is 2011...and someone else organized my life for me.
Either way, on this weekend of thanks, I'm going to stop feeling sorry for myself. I'm going to not wish that I didn't have a house that is too big for me to handle...no matter how much help I get. I'm going to feel grateful for my girls, and my Fonz, and my Workaholic, and for all the other wonderful things that I have in my life. Because if there is one thing that I have learned by living in this house for the past 6 1/2 years, is to count your blessings. When you are feeling overwhelmed, sometimes that is all you can do.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
1. Two parts of you are dueling. What parts? Who wins?
This is easy. My lazy part, the part that wants to lay in bed and watch TV, and the part that knows that I have a million and one things to do. Before I had kids, the lazy part won out. All. the. time. Now that I have kids, it doesn't win out as much anymore. In fact, my main issue with getting things done nowadays is that I forget that I have things to do until it is impossible for me to do them. Like, I am sitting at work and I remember that I need to pull out the level two nipples for Charlie's bottles. They are in the laundry room. But I can't do that while I am sitting in my cubicle. (excuse me while I go to the laundry room...as I am working from home today.)
2. Do you give inanimate objects names? Anything specific?
I usually don't do this. But there are a couple of things that do have names, and they are awesome. The first was our Tom-Tom, Kate. We named her Kate because that was the name of the voice that we chose. I think Kate was British. Anyway, you could make her say anything you wanted, and it would be triggered by something that a GPS recognizes, like a church or gas station. We once set it to say, "Hey Tyler, shut the fuck up" every time we drove past a gas station. While Tyler didn't think this was very funny, mainly because he usually WAS talking whenever we drove past a gas station, we thought it was pretty damn hilarious. There is nothing like having a Kate say what you are thinking when an 18 year old is talking about the coolest car he had ever seen.
The second thing was our printer at work. (think of the fax machine in Office Space) We got this awesome new machine about 4-5 years ago, at one of the busiest time of our company's history. At least in the accounting department. And the damn thing just couldn't keep up with us. We hated it so. One of my friends hated her mother-in-law about as much as the new machine, so we named it after her. Every once in a while, when it acts up, I still will pat it and say, "Come on Marge, you can do it." It likes to be talked to.
3. How restricted do you feel when you are blogging because you don't want to upset someone?
Let's put it this way. Just now, I debated on whether to tell you the name of our printer. Because if there is any chance that my friend's mother-in-law could find my blog, she would be upset. But I decided that probably wouldn't happen. I try not to talk shit about other people too much, because I don't think I'd like to be talked shit about. Which is why most of my posts are about myself, when I really started this blog to complain about other people. Ahh...how life evolves.
4. What do you like to read about most on other people's blogs?
One of the reasons I love Paige is because she writes about herself. She sometimes does these "random posts", where she just writes short thoughts of what is on her mind. In no particular order. I love that. I keep meaning to do it, but then the mommy-brain kicks in and I forget what I was going to write about and why. And since I am not pregnant anymore and am on happy drugs, I really don't have a whole lot to rant about. Which is kind of sad if you think about it. My rants are some of my best work. OH WAIT...the holidays are coming! I'm sure on Friday I'll have plenty to complain about.
This is the part where I am supposed to tag other people. I hate doing that. Mainly because if they choose not to participate, I feel like a loser. So, if you are reading this, and you have your own blog, answer Paige's questions! And leave your link in my comments section! Pretty please! I love learning about other people!!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
And today was the day. My first day back in 13 weeks.
And you know what? It wasn't horrible.
I didn't get treated poorly. I was sugary sweet to anyone who dared to not welcome me back properly. I set up my new cubicle, and didn't complain that I can't hang anything on the wall because they don't want holes where tacks have been in their brand new drywall.
I ordered some office supplies, like a new trash can, because apparently mine didn't make it in the move. I put up pictures, and moved files, and set up my voicemail. And I also did a little bit of actual work!
When I got home, Sam was still napping and Charlie was happy as she could possibly be in her swing. I was able to eat dinner with Sam, bathe both of them, and put them to bed...all before Workaholic got home. There were no major fits or tantrums or meltdowns. I even put away some laundry.
It was a good day. I can only hope for more good days just like it.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Am I nervous? Hell yeah.
For one, my company moved while I was on leave, so I am going to a completely new office. And the architect thought it would be funny to design the building like a mouse maze, so it takes a week to learn how to get around without getting lost.
Secondly, there were a lot of changes while I was gone, some good, some that will make my job...well, I'll have to work a bit harder. Which is OK, I'll be busy, and busy is good.
But the thing that I am the most nervous about is the office drama. I have been hiding in my house for the past 3 months. My last day at work it was close to 100 degrees outside, and the other day it snowed. So I have been totally self-involved and haven't cared about anyone except me and my kids. It is going to be weird to have to deal with strangers and answer their questions and try to get back into the swing of things, all while trying to keep my head down and not piss off the bosses. (Which I have had issues with before, so my concerns are legit.)
I have decided to take things one day at a time. The first thing I have to do is find my new cubicle without being late on my first day. (I am completely confident in the hands that will be taking care of the girls, so at least I don't have to worry about that. ) Once I find the new cube, I'll put up pictures, say hi to everyone who thought that I quit, and re-introduce myself to the working world. From there...I think I'll just wing it. Wish me luck!!
Thursday, November 4, 2010
So that past few years, I've had a love/hate relationship with Disney. I really hate the commercialism, the expensive crap you have to buy, the attitude they seem to promote that little girls need to be rescued by princes and that will make their lives whole. I hate the T-shirts with mouses all over them, the shoes with Cars on them , and how it costs $82 to get into one park. But I love their movies...The Little Mermaid, Lady and the Tramp, Beauty and the Beast, Dumbo. (Yes, I realize that most of the movies that I love promote the "needing a man to be happy" premise, but I can't help it.) And Workaholic loves Disney...it's the happiest place on Earth!! So away we went with Sam to the Magic Kingdom for a day.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Because a hero? Who has let me down? Geez.
I consider all of my grandparents my heroes because they raised families during one of the most difficult times of our country's history. But unless you count dying as letting me down, they are still my heroes. Because lets face it, everyone dies.
Other than them, I don't really have heroes. I mean, there are people I admire, for sure. But those people are human, and they make mistakes just like everyone else, and I can't fault them for that.
I know that there are people out there who are heroes. Like the firefighters from 9/11. But I don't know any of them personally, so they definitely haven't let me down. And Capt. Sullenberger, who landed the plane on the Hudson River. My dad is a pilot, so I have an appreciation for what he did. Again though, I don't know him.
Maybe I did have a hero when I was a little kid who let me down. Maybe that is why I have such an aversion to calling someone my "hero". As much as I am trying to remember, I can't. But now that I think about it, I am sure that there was an adult who I idolized who let me down. It happens. For now, I think I'll keep all of my heroes limited to people who can't disappoint. Like Jesus. He seems like a pretty good guy to have as a hero. I think I'll stick with him.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
I listen to it on the radio. But I don't have the patience to sit down and download songs I like and put them on my ipod and then organize them into playlists. I don't even know where my ipod is.
But I do have songs and bands that I like. Like, a lot. And I'll listen to them over and over and over again.
Like Jo Dee Meccina's song "I'm Allright." I always wanted to karoke it, but never had the guts.
And pretty much anything by Guns N' Roses. It got me through middle school. 'Nuff said.
"American Pie" by Don McLean. It is just a great song, and makes me think of the Piano Bar whenever I hear it.
Garth Brooks makes me reminisce for high school. As does The Offspring...specifically those songs "Come Out and Play" and "Self Esteem". OK, maybe those were good times...not bad times. But still.
Even if you aren't totally all about music, everyone always has a favorite song that might make them tear up or smile. What is yours?
Like my thighs, or my butt, or my housekeeping abilities, or my cooking abilities, or my social awkwardness, or how I never pick up my dog's poop. (in my own yard...or my parent's or in-law's yards...I always pick it up when he dumps on a walk!)
However, I think I'll take a different approach and go with my laundry abilities.
You see, I'm a bit particular about laundry.
I don't like the baskets to get too full.
I don't like to wash Workaholic's clothes with mine and the girls.
I use two settings, and have a panic attack if I see anyone using anything other than those two settings.
I measure out the soap, unlike my mother and mother-in-law.
I pride myself on always having clean clothes.
It's weird, I know. Which is maybe why no one ever compliments me on it.
Workaholic will, however, thank the laundry fairy every once in a while. He likes how she picks up his clothes, washes and dries them, and puts them back in the closet. He doesn't think it is me, because he never sees me do it. So obviously, it must be the laundry fairy.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
I have a problem. A dilemma really. And here's the thing. It shouldn't be a problem. Or a dilemma. Because it actually is solving a problem.
Let me explain...ever since I started working, perhaps even before, I wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom. Being a working mom seemed like so much, well...work. Maintaining the house and going to the grocery store and making dinner AND working a full-time job?? How on Earth was that to be done?
And I did it. For 19 months, I did it. And I hated it. I hated that I couldn't go to the grocery store after work because I had to pick up Sam at daycare. And even on the days when she was with grandma, I would go to the store after work, rushing because I felt guilty. She had been with grandma all day, and now I was taking up her evening too. I hated that there was never enough time for anything, and I never got to play with my kid, and how I was always tired.
Well guess what? I am going back to work. I had hoped that this wouldn't be my original plan, I had hoped that we could swing it with me staying at home and losing my income. And then we realized that wasn't feasible, not yet anyway. We just spend too much money. And aren't willing to stop.
The great thing is that while on leave, my work has implemented a flex schedule. So I get to work from home 50% of the time now! Yay!!! I get to bring in an income, spend time with adults, and also spend time with my kids. Sounds like a no-brainer right? Right.
Here is where my dilemma comes in. I have guilt. Because I am ready to go back to work. I can't get out of bed in the morning. I lay there, awake, knowing that I should shower because this is my chance to do that before the girls wake up. Yet I don't. I lay down every chance I get during the day because I am just. so. tired. I rarely play with the girls, I watch the clock to see when the next feeding time or nap time is. This is not the quality time I had hoped for. But I just can't help myself. I know that when I have to go back to work, I HAVE to get out of bed. I have to shower. (at least half of the time) I have to get something done during the day. And I am looking forward to that.
As it turns out, I think that I might be one of the worst stay-at-home-moms ever. My house is a pit, we have no food...much less dinner on the table, and poor Sam just wanders around looking for trouble to get into. I float from day to day, hoping the next day will be better, but not doing anything to change it. Therein lies the guilt. I feel guilty that I don't want to spend this time with my kids. I feel guilty that I can't wait for them to take their naps so I can nap or play on the internet. I feel guilty that I have wasted the past 2 months being lazy.
I am not sure of the delusions I have about going back to work. I will have help, even more than I have had in the past. So I am looking forward to that. I need to get my life in order, but at times, it feels like such a mess I just lay down and take a nap. It's easier that way.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
I like my eyes the best about me, so I guess it is good that is the thing that people compliment me the most on. Ironically, it also seems to be the thing that my girls get complimented the most on.
Sam's eyes are no longer blue, but hazel. And she has beautiful, long eyelashes. People compliment her on her eyelashes and eyes all the time. It also could be that she bats them and smiles and cocks her head to get her way.
Charlie's eyes are still blue. And they are big and wide and filled with wonder. She is really starting to look around and take in the world around her. They get really big when she sees Sam coming, since that usually means she is about to get hurt.
Lately, people have also been complimenting me since I have lost all of my pregnancy weight. Well, all but 3 lbs, but who is really counting? That feels good, but I know that I am still overweight by 20-30 lbs and would love to lose that. If it didn't take exercise, discipline, or monitoring of what I ate. Something tells me I am not going to lose that last 20lbs.
What do people compliment you on?
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
You need to get out of my life.
I have had it up to here with your poking and prodding and constant presence.
You know who you are.
You've done your damndest to bother me and bug me and keep me awake at night.
But it is time to move on. Go back where you came from.
Yep, I'm talking to you, nursing bras. Go back in the bin, I'm through with you.
I totally believe in that e-mail.
There are lots of people that I used to work with who I thought would be my best friends for the rest of my life. And then we didn't work together anymore, and that was that.
I had a great time with a lot of those people. I can think of one in particular who was there for me during a tough time. He just hung out with me, partied with me, and was my constant companion who kept me from getting too lonely. (and no, not talking about Fonz this time)
But time passes, and it is just impossible to keep in touch with every single person who you have met in your life. There isn't enough time in the day to maintain all of those friendships.
Now, I have certain friends from college who I may only see once every couple of years. We keep touch on facebook and through e-mails when someone gets married or has a kid. But I know that those girls will always be my friends. We may have drifted from each other's every day lives, but we know that we can dial the phone and pick right up where we left off.
So while lots have drifted, that's just life. If someone has drifted, there probably is a reason. Not necessarily anything good or bad, just life. The true friends will stick around, and even if you don't see or talk to them much, they are still true friends. And that is what I love about life.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Pretty much every boyfriend I ever had made my life hell at some point, and they all definitely treated me like shit.
I think it is part of the marathon of dating and finding your true match.
I think it is part of growing up and learning about yourself.
Because I can promise you that I dished out my own hell, and have treated people like shit. I am often thoughtless like that.
I try not to do that anymore. I am sure that I have done it though. It is all part of becoming the person that you want your kids to think you are.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
My someone who has made my life worth living is my dog, Kabo, or The Fonz.
Strange? Perhaps. But I got him when I was 21, and it is safe to say that the time between I was 21 and 26 was tough on me.
And he was there, every minute of it. I had to get out of bed for him. I had to work if for no other reason to feed him and house him. So yes, I have a wonderful husband and two awesome daughters, but Fonz got me through to this point.
When I was pregnant with Sam, someone pissed me off. And I wrote this post about Kabo. And that is why he has made my life worth living.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
I hope I never have to bury a child.
I watched that new Jimmy Smits show "Outlaw" the other night, and he was defending a woman who forgot her daughter in the car, and the baby died.
The line that has stuck in my mind the past few days is when the medical examiner was descibing the autopsy, and he said that the girl had ulcers on her vocal chords. From screaming.
The thing that terrifies me about this is that it can happen to anyone. There is real medical science that shows when you get in the car to go to work, you get in a zone. You don't even know that you are driving to work. And if you are sleep-deprived, stressed, and have something else distracting you, it is like the perfect storm. That is how it happens. More than what people know.
I saw on Oprah tips to keep this from happening, like always putting your purse or briefcase in the back of the car, next to the carseat. So you are forced to open that back door, and hopefully would notice if you got to work and your kid was in the carseat.
I read a couple of blogs of people who have lost a child, and no matter how it happens, burying your baby is THE WORST thing that can possibly happen to a mom.
So yeah, that is something I hope I never have to do.
Lately, my big thing is that I want to take a trip(s) out West. No need to leave the good ol' USofA, there is tons to see here and everyone speaks English!
I want to see the Grand Canyon and Mount Rushmomre, and visit Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, and stay on a ranch in Wyoming. I want to go snow skiing in Colorado and California and Utah. I want to go to Oregon and Seattle. I also want to go to Montana, if only to drive on the roads there that have no speed limit. And I want to go on a winery tour in California, and see Beverly Hills and Malibu and the Pacific Ocean. And of course, I want to go to Las Vegas. I'm sure there is a lot more to see in the West, this is just my short list. Anyone have anything to add??
I better keep working for all of these vacations...11/11 is my first day back.
Monday, October 11, 2010
I knew this about him within about a month of meeting him. And I knew it wasn't ever going to change when I married him.
But still, there are days, nights, weekends, when I get very, very upset with him because he works so much.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
This guy was hanging out outside the student rec center we were parked next to. Pirates??
Dr. Nadene really loved this chick's outfit...white overalls with hand-stamped purple paw prints and purple converse sneakers. Awesome.
This is Ben. This is Ben's dog, Henry. Please take note of Henry's leash...yeah...it's looped around the keg tapper. Awesome.
This Purdue fan was sitting right in front of us. He was all about taking pictures, but why not wear a Purdue shirt?? Boats???
The other thing about Northwestern is that they really like to name things after people. They've got Ryan Field...now, it is totally understandable to name your stadium after someone. I am not sure what those people did to be banished to section 235, but that's besides the point.
Then they have the Leonard B. Thomas Pressbox. And the Otto Graham Wildcat Honor Roll. I am not sure exactly that is...bragging with signs? Really?
I have to publicly thank my in-laws for taking the girls for the weekend. I was able to get two whole nights of sleep, drink without worrying, and we had a really great time.
I would also like to thank Northwestern for the fireworks after the game. Judging by the length and impressiveness of the display, they totally thought they were going to win. We really enjoyed our victory fireworks!!!
When I was little, I loved going to my mom's parents' farm.
I didn't love going to my dad's parents' house.
It wasn't the farm, and I told myself that since they smoked, I would rather be out at the farm, instead of their house "in town.".
I was mean about it, throwing fits like only a youngest child can. And I often got my way.
When my dad's parents passed, I realized only then just how awesome they were.
I regret not spending more time with them, giving them more of a chance.
There is nothing I can do about it now, and they are in heaven, so I doubt they care anymore.
Hopefully I'll see them someday and can make up for it.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
I know when whoever created this list picked this topic, they wanted the people to think about themselves inside, something non-superficial. Well...I like the skin on my face. That is the first thing that comes to mind today. The rest of my body, not so much, but the skin on my face is great. I never get zits or clogged pores and it is pretty even toned. I can get away with not wearing make-up if I feel like it. And that makes me happy.
As far as the non-superficial part of myself that I love, well...I love that I know a little about a lot of things. It helps me to make conversation with people who I may normally not have anything to talk to about. I am a wealth of useless knowledge. Just ask my old cubicle neighbor. She'll tell you.
Friday, October 8, 2010
This is the list if you want to add your own:
Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
When we made the plans to go, I knew that I'd have an infant at home. What I didn't know was that I'd have an infant who didn't sleep through the night and combine that with my pathetic attempt to start taking Zoloft a couple of days before.
When I had Sam, I needed something to help me out after she was born. I wasn't in that mode of wanting to hurt myself or my kid, but I was down and out and cried. A lot. Like...A LOT. So my doctor prescribed me Zoloft, because that is the only thing that pregnant/breastfeeding moms can take for depression. After 3 days, I finally figured out that I didn't have the flu, but it was the side effects from the meds, and I stopped taking them.
This time, I was hoping that the side effects would be lesser. I hoped and prayed that I wouldn't even have side effects. Boy oh boy, was I wrong. I took one pill. One. Pill. And that night, I couldn't sleep. A mother of a 6 week old COULDN'T SLEEP, given the opportunity. The next day, the nausea started, accompanied shortly thereafter by vomiting, and...let's just say that there were other digestive-related side effects as well.
By the middle of the morning, I had decided that Zoloft could go fuck itself and there was NO WAY I was taking another pill. I would rather be depressed. So I didn't. That was Wednesday. Wednesday night, I couldn't sleep either. And I was still nausous, and still, you know. And then Thursday came, and I needed to go to this baseball game and socialize with people who I didn't know.
Thursday I was able to get in a nap, but then we were off to the game. And it was cool, The Cell is a nice park, and there were fireworks when Paul Konerko hit a grand slam. (A GRAND SLAM!! Some people never get to see one in real life, and I was like...oh, that's neat.) I ate a few peanuts and tried to stay warm as the temperature dipped.
But I am going to be honest with you. I was almost in tears more than once. All I could think of was sleep. I was desperate for sleep. I texted Workaholic at one point (when he was about 5 feet away from me) and told him that I was ready to go. I think that was about the 4th inning. I tried to smile and talk to the nice people we were with, but I can't remember any of the conversations, except that I am positive I mentioned sleep more than once in each one. I feel bad, like I shouldn't have been quite so whiny, or kept my mouth shut, or something. But again, all I could think of was sleep. I wanted nothing more than a solid 10 hours of sleep.
We got home around midnight, and, like clockwork, Charlie got up around 3:30am. Of course. I don't really remember Friday, except I still wasn't feeling too hot, and couldn't BELIEVE that ONE PILL could do this to me. And then, Friday night, it happened.
Charlie went to bed around 9pm. And she didn't get up until 7am. The little angel SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT!!! 10 HOURS!!!! And the little shit hasn't done it since. But it has given me hope that she'll be come a champion sleeper soon. Hopefully very, very soon.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
The three of us at the game.
Sam wasn't too sure about the fountain, Fonz loves it.
Family photo courtesy of random student who didn't even try to run away with our camera!
Pondering the meaning of life.
And this is how Sam ended her weekend...totally wiped out.
(yes, she WAS weaned off the pacifier, but then Charlie came along and so she steals it whenever she gets a chance)
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
I've never been one of those glass-half-full kind of girls, and I have never handled change well.
But every time, and I mean every time, I rant or whine or complain in a post, someone out there reaches out to me.
I initially started this blog to vent about stupid shit in my world. I had to re-think that very quickly, seeing as how most of the stupid shit that happens to me happens at work, and blogging about your job is a big no-no.
The thing I love the most about blogging, other than getting things off of my chest, is the support I receive. I get comments and e-mails and phone calls from strangers and family and friends, letting me know that I am not alone.
I am not crazy.
I am not unusual.
I am OK.
The things that I think, the things that I write, others understand.
And that? Is awesome.
So in case I forget to mention it, THANK YOU. Thank you for caring. Thank you for the ideas and the encouraging words. They really do mean the world.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but I have a dog named Kabo, and we also call him The Fonz. He is a Golden Retriever, and he is the best dog that ever lived. Seriously. Just ask anyone who ever met him.
My senior year of college, Workaholic and I found a dog roaming his apartment complex. We had it for a week before finding it's owner, and in that week, Workaholic decided that a dog wasn't that big a deal, and we should fulfill my lifelong dream and go get one. So I looked in the want ads in the paper (because no rescue group in their right mind would adopt to me) and went to visit the first one that had puppies.
There were only three males left, all blond. They were huge, obviously not the 8 weeks that the newspaper had advertised. But I didn't care, I wanted a puppy. While his two brothers clamoured all over Workaholic and me for attention, Fonz went and peed in the corner. He was also the smallest, so we decided to take him.
Seeing as how we weren't sure we were actually going to get a dog, we had no supplies. So we went straight to Petsmart and stocked up. $100 later, we headed back to Workaholic's apartment.
I wasn't allowed to have dogs at my place, so Fonz would have to live in a small, two bedroom apartment just off campus along the Wabash River. It was a large complex with lots of other dogs. At the time, two other guys lived there, so between the four of us, Fonz got plenty of attention. I'm not going to lie, he did get crated so we could go to the bar a few nights a week. And he generally slept on a pile of dirty laundry. He was an adorable puppy.
I never did formal obedience training with him as a puppy, I just took what I had learned from books and TV and winged it. I was THAT GIRL (as my nephew says) who rollerbladed with her dog on campus. We went for off-leash walks in the wooded parks surrounding West Lafayette, where there were signs everywhere that said, "All dogs must be on leash". It was there where I taught his recall skills and trained him to come to a certain whistle. (The first time I whistle, he has to come back within eyesight of me, the second time he has to come all the way back.) I took him to visit friends on campus, as well as my roommates, who otherwise never saw me. I also took him to my parent's formally no-dogs-allowed-inside house, informed my mother that he was an "inside dog", and then he promptly peed on the floor.
As he got older, I realized I had little control of him (as he is/was a tad....what I like to call, high-energy) and took some classes, and he earned his Canine Good Citizen award. (Workaholic still says I cheated, but I say it was earned, fair and square.) We took agility classes, and I finally got him to jump off the end of the pier at the lake a-la dock dog style. When I was pregnant with Sam, I wrote this post about what he meant to me, because someone kept telling me how Fonz would no longer matter to me once I had Sam. It really pissed me off. My dad has taken him duck hunting, and the shotgun didn't faze him. He was the first one to realize, even before me, that I was pregnant with Samantha.
Now, at 11 years old, he is still young at heart. He still wiggles and wags just as hard as he did when he was a puppy when someone new walks in. He can run circles around most dogs half his age (and does!) and can swim all day if he wants. He will lay outside for hours, surveying his domain, waiting for someone to come for him to greet, or a stray coyote to try to dare to enter his yard. He never leaves the yard (and that is any yard where I am at, not just the yard at our home) unless he has a good reason, he only barks for a good reason, and he poops at the very back of the yard so I don't have to clean it up. If I tell him to go lay down, he does, and if I tell him to move, he does. When we are out on the lake, he can hang out all day with everyone and you don't have to worry about him running off...he just digs for rocks and visits his friends, and occasionally will check in with me. He LOVES to swim and go for walks and rides in the car and boat, and he loves each and every member of my family with the same reckless abandon that he has when he sees snow.
I just can't convey the awesomeness of my dog. For example, right now, my back door is open. It has been all day. He comes and goes as he pleases and I don't have a fenced-in yard and I don't have to worry. He won't leave me. He doesn't wake me up in the morning and he checks on me at night before he assumes his position on the floor next to my bedroom door. In the middle of the night, you will find him sleeping outside the girls' rooms. Right now, he is laying next to me, waiting for me to make the next move. He is the ultimate dog.
I love my Fonz. I guess that's all there is to say. That, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY KABO!!!
Dock Dog Video
Monday, September 20, 2010
28 years ago today, I started my annual tradition of asking for a puppy for my birthday. It would be 17 years later before I got Fonz. (and not on my birthday!)
Friday, September 17, 2010
So I was reading them last night, wondering if I needed to update them, and I got to the last one.
#50. I really, really want to be a stay-at-home mom.
This is an interesting one. Considering I was looking at these to see if I needed to change them, I am at a crossroads.
Every day is harder than the last. The weather is getting cooler, but I don't even notice because I hardly go outside.
Samantha has taken to emptying every cabinet and drawer and wipe container that we have. She likes to throw her diapers all over the room. And I am tired of picking up after her...worse yet, I am tired of trying to get her to pick up after herself.
She also has decided that she doesn't like to wear a diaper. And she knows how to take them off. She did this last night in bed, after taking off her pajamas, and peed in the bed. Luckily I decided to check on her, otherwise I would've had a much larger mess on my hands this morning.
Speaking of this morning, it came pretty fast, considering Sam slept with us for only the second time ever last night. After the first time, I swore there would NOT be a second time. Once she fell asleep, it went OK, until she got up 2 hours earlier than usual.
I am ALL about trying to get Charlie on a routine, but she isn't cooperating. And my immediate goal for the routine to succeed is getting Charlie to sleep through the night, or at least through one of the night feedings. So far it isn't working.
Workaholic has been crazy super busy lately. So he hasn't had time to install things like baby gates or cabinet locks, things that I didn't care if I had until I stayed home. All day. With a toddler. Who has a ton of toys but refuses to play with any of them.
I've started to romanticize my job, and fantasize about someone else raising my kids. (I'm talking daycare here.) When I was working, I felt so guilty that someone else was doing my job by raising my kids. But now I wonder if I can even do it. Just trying to figure out what to serve for lunch, and how I am going to do it with a baby who generally chooses to scream at lunchtime, is a struggle.
And while I was writing this, my 20 month old stood 10 feet from me, took off her diaper, pooped on the floor, and clogged a Toto toilet with who-knows-what. (Toto claims you can flush a tennis ball down their toilets.)
The thing is, I know that I have it much better than many people. Many people don't have family or friends around to help them. Many people don't have the money to put food on the table, much less deciding what to cook. Hell, many people don't even have a roof over their heads. Knowing this just makes me feel worse. Because I am struggling, but I feel like I shouldn't be. I have the exact same problems as millions of other people out there. Knowing that doesn't help. Believe you me, I wish it did.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
"OH gee...THANK YOU! I didn't even try!!" ***
***By didn't even try, I totally mean that I didn't look outside when dressing my kids for the park. I didn't go onto www.weather.com to see what the temperature was outside while dressing my kids for the park. I also didn't look at the temperature-reader-thingy that we have hanging on our back porch to see how warm (or cold) it was outside while dressing my kids for the park. I was much more concerned with having diapers and bottles and sippy cups and snacks. At the last minute, I did throw in a hat for Charlie.
Let me just tell you what it IS like outside today in Northwest Indiana.
Temperature: a balmy 74 degrees
Wind: from the north gusting at 24 mph
Wind Chill: -150 degrees
We decided to go home when Sam's lips turned blue and she started pointing at the parking lot and saying, "Go! Go!"