Sorry About the Typos... sort of
My husband reads this blog. He talks to me about what I write sometimes and he's even suggested topics for posts. He told me the other day that the typos bother him. He wasn't being overly critical, and he said they didn't bother him that much, but that he noticed them. I really think I know what he means. When you read something that has typos in it, you almost want to press the backspace button and fix it quickly. Or is that just me being weird?
I said when I started this blog that I was doing it for multiple reasons. The first was to document daily events in the lives of my children. The other main reason was to practice writing. I took an idea my sister-in-law had in her blog about writing and just pressing the publish button with no editing. No looking back, no worrying if it's unreadable or filled with typos and punctuation atrocities.
I liked that idea. I thought I spent too much time editing things I write in general. And what better way to improve your writing than to write, and write regularly. So I adopted the "type and publish" plan and have been posting that way every day since.
For a whole month, no one knew this blog existed. I could write poorly and post with impunity. But I ended up surprising myself. I expected bad flow problems between sentences. I envisioned choppy, difficult to follow entries. I knew, without a doubt, there would be grammatical errors and typos. Thankfully it wasn't as bad as my imagination had pictured.
I think I'm getting a bit better over time. I know there are typos, and yes, I do go back and correct them when I read through the post sometimes. But the typos aren't as rampant as I was expecting. And I'm glad I'm not spending a lot of time worrying about the perfect blog post. It's fun to write something here everyday instead of a chore.
So I'm sorry about the typos, sort of. If making those typos are making me a better writer, then I'm all for them. Hopefully, I'll continue to improve as time goes on.
The Big Boy Update: "He won't eat." Sometimes it's hard to figure him out. Does he want something else to eat or is he not hungry or is he full? I don't condone catering to a baby's every whim. Nor do I advocate for allowing a baby to be a picky eater. But sometimes you have to help then out. The other week I was told, "he won't eat." My response was, "just because he won't eat, doesn't mean he shouldn't eat. Let's see if we can find something else he will like." In the near future, when I can reason with my son, I have no problem ending a meal early if he won't eat what's in front of him. But for now, nutrition is more important. We also always re-introduce an item if it is declined at first. Eventually, most things are eaten.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Flail whack. That is her exercise routine. She's building up her arm muscles. First she flails them around, then she ends the set by whacking them both into her chest. She's been doing more sets lately too.
Right-size Countdown: 5.6 pounds to go
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
The Weight
Diets come, and diets go,
But pounds they like to stay.
And after five, or ten, or more,
They've got to go away.
As much as you might like to see,
The old, less-heavy self.
It's hard, it's long, it's hungry days,
'Til you're in better health.
You think about the ease with which,
You added on the weight.
The buns, the scones, the ice cream cones,
That got you in this state.
So hunker down, this you can do,
Write down a goal and date.
Plan cabbage, fruit and broccoli,
Good foods for every plate.
If skeptics question your resolve,
Don't lose your weight-loss vibe.
Keep fast, stay strong, don't lose control,
Ignore their diatribe.
Support of friends; their helpful words,
Make this much less a chore.
Your goal you'll make, there's no mistake,
You've done it all before.
- For my family
(who foolishly encouraged me after my first poem)
Diets come, and diets go,
But pounds they like to stay.
And after five, or ten, or more,
They've got to go away.
As much as you might like to see,
The old, less-heavy self.
It's hard, it's long, it's hungry days,
'Til you're in better health.
You think about the ease with which,
You added on the weight.
The buns, the scones, the ice cream cones,
That got you in this state.
So hunker down, this you can do,
Write down a goal and date.
Plan cabbage, fruit and broccoli,
Good foods for every plate.
If skeptics question your resolve,
Don't lose your weight-loss vibe.
Keep fast, stay strong, don't lose control,
Ignore their diatribe.
Support of friends; their helpful words,
Make this much less a chore.
Your goal you'll make, there's no mistake,
You've done it all before.
- For my family
(who foolishly encouraged me after my first poem)
Well, do you have to be thin?
I'm annoyed. Why is it some people are resistant to people when they diet? Today at lunch, one of my favorite people in the whole world, a person I look up to as a second mother, asked me, "Well, do you have to be thin?" when she found out I was dieting.
I explained that I wanted to fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes. She then said, "Couldn't you just buy new clothes?" I explained that I wanted to fit into clothes that were ten years old in some cases. That I was trying to get back to the weight I was for the majority of my adult life. I explained that aside from losing the weight of the baby and placenta and associated water weight itself, I had lost only ten pounds and I had been steadily climbing for some time prior to getting pregnant.
But why should I have to explain this to anyone? Do I answer back, "Well, do you have to be fat? Do you not want to do the work to be thin?" Note that in this case that wouldn't have been appropriate as she isn't an overweight person, but still, what do you say?
Suffice it to say, I'm annoyed with myself because I feel it is ridiculous to have to justify why you're on a diet. I've never had an eating disorder. I've always been within 15 pounds of the same weight my whole adult life. And yet, here I am. Annoyed.
My mother and I discussed it on the way home and she's in the same situation. She's had a target weight for decades too, but people think she's too thin sometimes. She has ways she avoids scrutiny or discussions about weight as well. So I'm going to have to come up with a more positive way I can address my weight.
So far, the most positive way I can think of is to not talk about it at all with people. My weight is my business. I need to keep it that way. Aside from you dear readers, of course.
The Big Boy Update: New pool! My mother and I went and got a little baby pool for him this morning. She knows how much he likes his baths and thought he'd love a pool on the deck this spring and summer. We've gotten it warmed up now and he's about to take his first outdoor splash of the year.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Sacrificing her throat for her face. Her face looks pristine. Not one pox, not one mar on it. But her throat is another matter. It's been hard for her to eat because it hurts her to suck. I think today may be better for her than last night was. I hope today will be better than last night was.
Right-size Countdown: 6.5 pounds to go
I'm annoyed. Why is it some people are resistant to people when they diet? Today at lunch, one of my favorite people in the whole world, a person I look up to as a second mother, asked me, "Well, do you have to be thin?" when she found out I was dieting.
I explained that I wanted to fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes. She then said, "Couldn't you just buy new clothes?" I explained that I wanted to fit into clothes that were ten years old in some cases. That I was trying to get back to the weight I was for the majority of my adult life. I explained that aside from losing the weight of the baby and placenta and associated water weight itself, I had lost only ten pounds and I had been steadily climbing for some time prior to getting pregnant.
But why should I have to explain this to anyone? Do I answer back, "Well, do you have to be fat? Do you not want to do the work to be thin?" Note that in this case that wouldn't have been appropriate as she isn't an overweight person, but still, what do you say?
Suffice it to say, I'm annoyed with myself because I feel it is ridiculous to have to justify why you're on a diet. I've never had an eating disorder. I've always been within 15 pounds of the same weight my whole adult life. And yet, here I am. Annoyed.
My mother and I discussed it on the way home and she's in the same situation. She's had a target weight for decades too, but people think she's too thin sometimes. She has ways she avoids scrutiny or discussions about weight as well. So I'm going to have to come up with a more positive way I can address my weight.
So far, the most positive way I can think of is to not talk about it at all with people. My weight is my business. I need to keep it that way. Aside from you dear readers, of course.
The Big Boy Update: New pool! My mother and I went and got a little baby pool for him this morning. She knows how much he likes his baths and thought he'd love a pool on the deck this spring and summer. We've gotten it warmed up now and he's about to take his first outdoor splash of the year.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Sacrificing her throat for her face. Her face looks pristine. Not one pox, not one mar on it. But her throat is another matter. It's been hard for her to eat because it hurts her to suck. I think today may be better for her than last night was. I hope today will be better than last night was.
Right-size Countdown: 6.5 pounds to go
Thursday, March 29, 2012
The Itch Monster
From olden times and days of yore,
From countries far and wide,
He sneaks, he prowls, he plots galore,
On how to get inside.
He has no arms,
He has no legs,
He even has no head.
And yet this limbless, headless beast,
Fills parent's minds with dread.
His target, young, unblemished ones.
His plan, to settle in.
He kindly shows that he is here,
With sores across your skin.
Your chest, your knees,
Behind your ears,
And just above your eyes,
The spots arrive in waves and waves,
Announcing he's arrived.
You ooze, you scratch, you itch galore,
The tears leak from your eyes,
You cry, you scab, you itch some more,
That's when you realize...
Eventually he'll move along,
Hold tight my little Fox,
For you survived the Itch Monster,
We call the Chicken Pox.
-For my Son
The Big Boy Update: Soothing baths. He is getting more than one bath a day now to help soothe his skin. I am so impressed with how he's toughing through this. His nose seems even worse today. He's been on the antibiotic for less than a day, so tomorrow maybe there will be more visual difference, but this morning one nostril was so filled with dried congestion that it was completely closed over at the entrance. I've had some big boogers in my time, but this is beyond impressive. And sad too, for it must be uncomfortable to him. Even with all this going on though, he slept through the night. He is my good boy.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Eh? It's a good thing this blog is written, because I'm not sure I could hear you after last night's screaming session. The strange thing is, she was fine on all counts from what we could tell. Then she suddenly woke up and acted startled. She has this startled/scared cry that's fairly easy to soothe. But this time it didn't stop. When I hold her and she's screaming as loud as she can, I've got her head right by my ear. And she's got a high-pitched, crazy scream when she's really mad. Hence my near-deaf experience. Some Benadryl and Tylenol and my husband doing this magic baby jiggle eventually calmed her down. She had other issues through the night, and we're not sure it's Chicken Pox related as much as bad intestinal cramps from the squash she had for the first time earlier in the evening. At 6AM, we fed her and she calmed down completely. Other than that and some added spots, her fever and overall presentation of Chicken Pox is much less severe than my son.
Right-size Countdown: 6.3 pounds to go
From olden times and days of yore,
From countries far and wide,
He sneaks, he prowls, he plots galore,
On how to get inside.
He has no arms,
He has no legs,
He even has no head.
And yet this limbless, headless beast,
Fills parent's minds with dread.
His target, young, unblemished ones.
His plan, to settle in.
He kindly shows that he is here,
With sores across your skin.
Your chest, your knees,
Behind your ears,
And just above your eyes,
The spots arrive in waves and waves,
Announcing he's arrived.
You ooze, you scratch, you itch galore,
The tears leak from your eyes,
You cry, you scab, you itch some more,
That's when you realize...
Eventually he'll move along,
Hold tight my little Fox,
For you survived the Itch Monster,
We call the Chicken Pox.
-For my Son
The Big Boy Update: Soothing baths. He is getting more than one bath a day now to help soothe his skin. I am so impressed with how he's toughing through this. His nose seems even worse today. He's been on the antibiotic for less than a day, so tomorrow maybe there will be more visual difference, but this morning one nostril was so filled with dried congestion that it was completely closed over at the entrance. I've had some big boogers in my time, but this is beyond impressive. And sad too, for it must be uncomfortable to him. Even with all this going on though, he slept through the night. He is my good boy.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Eh? It's a good thing this blog is written, because I'm not sure I could hear you after last night's screaming session. The strange thing is, she was fine on all counts from what we could tell. Then she suddenly woke up and acted startled. She has this startled/scared cry that's fairly easy to soothe. But this time it didn't stop. When I hold her and she's screaming as loud as she can, I've got her head right by my ear. And she's got a high-pitched, crazy scream when she's really mad. Hence my near-deaf experience. Some Benadryl and Tylenol and my husband doing this magic baby jiggle eventually calmed her down. She had other issues through the night, and we're not sure it's Chicken Pox related as much as bad intestinal cramps from the squash she had for the first time earlier in the evening. At 6AM, we fed her and she calmed down completely. Other than that and some added spots, her fever and overall presentation of Chicken Pox is much less severe than my son.
Right-size Countdown: 6.3 pounds to go
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
The Pox!
Update as we return from the doctor. My son (and daughter now too) have Chicken Pox. The original diagnosing doctor came back in with two other doctors to verify and get a three-way opinion.
They estimate he has upwards of 500 sores and given the general all over locations, coupled with the itchiness merits a Chicken Pox diagnosis. My son was just old enough to have had one of three vaccination shots for Chicken Pox, but not enough apparently to keep him from contracting it, or lessen the severity of it.
If the virus was Hand, Foot and Mouth, the incubation time is fairly short, only a few days. With Chicken Pox though, the incubation can be from ten to twenty one days our pediatrician said. So all of our efforts to sanitize and separate the children was in vain. But there is possible good news for my daughter.
Because she wasn't delivered pre-term like my son, the doctor said she got more of my antibodies. The last tri-mester is when the bulk of immunities are past from mother to fetus. Also, because I finished the very last bottle of breast milk this week, there's a good chance she's going to have a far better resistance to Chicken Pox than my son did. And this does fit with her symptoms.
If they were both exposed at relatively the same time, she has gone five additional days and has had only a low-grade fever (101.1 as the highest) and very little in the way of sores. Call me Polly Positive, but I have to hope my daughter won't get the worst of it like my son has.
What does this all mean? For my daughter, there was the possibility of a booster shot for children exhibiting early symptoms, but she is well under the minimum year requirement, so that's out. So mostly, we treat fever, give them baths in soothing oatmeal treatments, treat itching with Caladryl or Calamine lotion and give Benadryl when necessary.
At their next check-up, they'll get a test to see if they have the antibody for Chicken Pox in their system and if so, they won't get the vaccination rounds. It also means they won't have to get this when they're older. Considering their ages now, they're not going to remember it either.
Oh, and did I mention we're going on a family vacation at the end of next week? We asked today what our doctor would recommend. Did I mention this is my favorite doctor? She's very practical tells you what you should do, even if you don't want to hear it. She said they both should be beyond contagious states at that point because they will be done erupting new sores. She also said we'd probably need a vacation by then. So travel away.
We called family today as well to make sure they were okay with us coming. It looks like we're heading to Florida for Easter still, scabby babies and all.
Update as we return from the doctor. My son (and daughter now too) have Chicken Pox. The original diagnosing doctor came back in with two other doctors to verify and get a three-way opinion.
They estimate he has upwards of 500 sores and given the general all over locations, coupled with the itchiness merits a Chicken Pox diagnosis. My son was just old enough to have had one of three vaccination shots for Chicken Pox, but not enough apparently to keep him from contracting it, or lessen the severity of it.
If the virus was Hand, Foot and Mouth, the incubation time is fairly short, only a few days. With Chicken Pox though, the incubation can be from ten to twenty one days our pediatrician said. So all of our efforts to sanitize and separate the children was in vain. But there is possible good news for my daughter.
Because she wasn't delivered pre-term like my son, the doctor said she got more of my antibodies. The last tri-mester is when the bulk of immunities are past from mother to fetus. Also, because I finished the very last bottle of breast milk this week, there's a good chance she's going to have a far better resistance to Chicken Pox than my son did. And this does fit with her symptoms.
If they were both exposed at relatively the same time, she has gone five additional days and has had only a low-grade fever (101.1 as the highest) and very little in the way of sores. Call me Polly Positive, but I have to hope my daughter won't get the worst of it like my son has.
What does this all mean? For my daughter, there was the possibility of a booster shot for children exhibiting early symptoms, but she is well under the minimum year requirement, so that's out. So mostly, we treat fever, give them baths in soothing oatmeal treatments, treat itching with Caladryl or Calamine lotion and give Benadryl when necessary.
At their next check-up, they'll get a test to see if they have the antibody for Chicken Pox in their system and if so, they won't get the vaccination rounds. It also means they won't have to get this when they're older. Considering their ages now, they're not going to remember it either.
Oh, and did I mention we're going on a family vacation at the end of next week? We asked today what our doctor would recommend. Did I mention this is my favorite doctor? She's very practical tells you what you should do, even if you don't want to hear it. She said they both should be beyond contagious states at that point because they will be done erupting new sores. She also said we'd probably need a vacation by then. So travel away.
We called family today as well to make sure they were okay with us coming. It looks like we're heading to Florida for Easter still, scabby babies and all.
Pregnancy Pack-up
I wasn't going to pack up my pregnancy clothes until I reached my target weight, but I got motivated yesterday and got it done. I was mostly motivated because I had to get running shoes and running outfits for the training program I foolishly signed up to do with my friend. It was also time to find the summer clothing that fits, and mentally switch from pants to shorts. With all that going on in my head, it seemed like a good time to pack up the pregnancy-specific clothes.
It's really nice to be able to pull things out of the closet, shelves and drawers and free up space. It was even nicer when I tried on some of the shorts I had from pre-pregnancy to find they fit. My closet rule in general is a new thing can't be brought in and hung up unless something old is removed. I usually have some extra hangers available so I can expand for a while, and then do a nice purge of old or worn out things. In this case, it was so easy. I didn't have to decide if I was or wasn't going to wear the item again or if I liked it enough to keep it. All the pregnancy items just don't fit a non-pregnant body so I put them all in a big bin and stuck it in the attic. Now the closet looks so nice. And I'm ready to be in spring clothes again.
I'm getting closer to my weight target. People keep telling me, "you look so thin." And it's true, I do look thin. But it's a comparative "thin." I now weigh 32 pounds less than I did four-and-a-half months ago when I went to the hospital to deliver my daughter. But I still can't fit into the pants I wore for years. So I'm trying not to let the comments affect my resolve to lose weight in any way. And hopefully I won't feel the need to explain what my goals are and justify them with, "No, I'm not losing too much weight. You've just seen a relative change over the past several months and it's making me look more thin than I might otherwise look."
On the topic of clothes, I have the two pair of interim pants I'm still wearing until I get back into my main wardrobe. I have one belt I move between the two. I was on the second hold of the belt when I started losing weight. Today I moved to the fifth hole. I'm going to celebrate by eating a lot of broccoli, I think. Pants aside, it's mostly spring and I'm really looking forward to flip flops and shorts weather. And also retiring these two pair of pants until fall.
I'm hoping my shape will shape up as well. There are some droopy areas that weren't there pre-baby. There's the baby feeding devices. They weren't droopy at all while I was pregnant and nursing. Now they're (thankfully) back down to regular size, but they're a bit stretched out. They weren't that large to begin with, so there's a good chance they'll shape up as I get in shape over the next months. I hope.
Then there's the baby growing region. Pregnancy stretches your belly way out. And with a Cesarean Section, there is an incision that needs to heal as well. At one point, it looked like bits of my stomach were like melting icing drooping down into the incision area. When I asked the doctor if I was suppose to look like that, he said it was normal. Unattractive normal, but normal. It's not melty looking now, but it's still flabby. It takes a while for the skin to pull back into place. I hope it will, because I'm fond of two-piece bathing suits and I don't want to frighten the other beach-goers.
The last body thing I've got on my mind—or have in my list of body topics I want to write about—is the "touching thighs" issue. I didn't own a scale until I was over thirty. I was very fortunate to have a metabolism that kept me thin and an appetite that didn't want more food than my body needed. When I started gaining baby weight, I noticed the inside of my thighs were touching when I walked. It was a strange sensation. My thighs are one of the areas in which I still need to lose weight so I can get back into my old pants. I am eagerly looking forward to non-touching thighs in the coming weeks.
Okay okay, no more weight loss, body stuff tomorrow. I've packed in a few little things I wanted to get down in this post so I can move on to something hopefully more interesting tomorrow. Losing weight is on my mind a lot right now and it is something I'm proud I've been able to accomplish.
The Big Boy Update: Healing. Some of the sores are healing over and he's got flaking skin on his hands. I don't think more sores are appearing, but it's hard to tell, he has so many. His nose is another issue. Initially, I took him into the doctor to have his sinuses looked at and determine if he's got an infection or is having some allergies to the clouds of pollen floating around. While the virus is running its course, his nose has gotten worse and he has terrible circles under his eyes, which may be a sign of sinus issues. There is no correlation to nasal issues with Hand, Foot and Mouth disease, nor has his sister had any nose problems either, now or in the recent past. We're seeing our favorite doctor today and hopefully she can address his terrible, red, raw, crusty, drippy, gross nose.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She got the pox. She has it, but so far, she's not exhibiting the higher fever my son had. She even ate extra breakfast this morning. I'm hoping the sores in the back of her throat won't be too much of a problem. She's too young to reason with and explain that she has to drink so she won't get dehydrated. We'll know in a few days how she fares.
Right-size Countdown: 6.9 pounds to go
I wasn't going to pack up my pregnancy clothes until I reached my target weight, but I got motivated yesterday and got it done. I was mostly motivated because I had to get running shoes and running outfits for the training program I foolishly signed up to do with my friend. It was also time to find the summer clothing that fits, and mentally switch from pants to shorts. With all that going on in my head, it seemed like a good time to pack up the pregnancy-specific clothes.
It's really nice to be able to pull things out of the closet, shelves and drawers and free up space. It was even nicer when I tried on some of the shorts I had from pre-pregnancy to find they fit. My closet rule in general is a new thing can't be brought in and hung up unless something old is removed. I usually have some extra hangers available so I can expand for a while, and then do a nice purge of old or worn out things. In this case, it was so easy. I didn't have to decide if I was or wasn't going to wear the item again or if I liked it enough to keep it. All the pregnancy items just don't fit a non-pregnant body so I put them all in a big bin and stuck it in the attic. Now the closet looks so nice. And I'm ready to be in spring clothes again.
I'm getting closer to my weight target. People keep telling me, "you look so thin." And it's true, I do look thin. But it's a comparative "thin." I now weigh 32 pounds less than I did four-and-a-half months ago when I went to the hospital to deliver my daughter. But I still can't fit into the pants I wore for years. So I'm trying not to let the comments affect my resolve to lose weight in any way. And hopefully I won't feel the need to explain what my goals are and justify them with, "No, I'm not losing too much weight. You've just seen a relative change over the past several months and it's making me look more thin than I might otherwise look."
On the topic of clothes, I have the two pair of interim pants I'm still wearing until I get back into my main wardrobe. I have one belt I move between the two. I was on the second hold of the belt when I started losing weight. Today I moved to the fifth hole. I'm going to celebrate by eating a lot of broccoli, I think. Pants aside, it's mostly spring and I'm really looking forward to flip flops and shorts weather. And also retiring these two pair of pants until fall.
I'm hoping my shape will shape up as well. There are some droopy areas that weren't there pre-baby. There's the baby feeding devices. They weren't droopy at all while I was pregnant and nursing. Now they're (thankfully) back down to regular size, but they're a bit stretched out. They weren't that large to begin with, so there's a good chance they'll shape up as I get in shape over the next months. I hope.
Then there's the baby growing region. Pregnancy stretches your belly way out. And with a Cesarean Section, there is an incision that needs to heal as well. At one point, it looked like bits of my stomach were like melting icing drooping down into the incision area. When I asked the doctor if I was suppose to look like that, he said it was normal. Unattractive normal, but normal. It's not melty looking now, but it's still flabby. It takes a while for the skin to pull back into place. I hope it will, because I'm fond of two-piece bathing suits and I don't want to frighten the other beach-goers.
The last body thing I've got on my mind—or have in my list of body topics I want to write about—is the "touching thighs" issue. I didn't own a scale until I was over thirty. I was very fortunate to have a metabolism that kept me thin and an appetite that didn't want more food than my body needed. When I started gaining baby weight, I noticed the inside of my thighs were touching when I walked. It was a strange sensation. My thighs are one of the areas in which I still need to lose weight so I can get back into my old pants. I am eagerly looking forward to non-touching thighs in the coming weeks.
Okay okay, no more weight loss, body stuff tomorrow. I've packed in a few little things I wanted to get down in this post so I can move on to something hopefully more interesting tomorrow. Losing weight is on my mind a lot right now and it is something I'm proud I've been able to accomplish.
The Big Boy Update: Healing. Some of the sores are healing over and he's got flaking skin on his hands. I don't think more sores are appearing, but it's hard to tell, he has so many. His nose is another issue. Initially, I took him into the doctor to have his sinuses looked at and determine if he's got an infection or is having some allergies to the clouds of pollen floating around. While the virus is running its course, his nose has gotten worse and he has terrible circles under his eyes, which may be a sign of sinus issues. There is no correlation to nasal issues with Hand, Foot and Mouth disease, nor has his sister had any nose problems either, now or in the recent past. We're seeing our favorite doctor today and hopefully she can address his terrible, red, raw, crusty, drippy, gross nose.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She got the pox. She has it, but so far, she's not exhibiting the higher fever my son had. She even ate extra breakfast this morning. I'm hoping the sores in the back of her throat won't be too much of a problem. She's too young to reason with and explain that she has to drink so she won't get dehydrated. We'll know in a few days how she fares.
Right-size Countdown: 6.9 pounds to go
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Alternate Home
Aside from your home country, is there a country you're drawn to more than any other that would be your, "if I couldn't live here, I'd want to live there" country? For instance, I have a friend that loves Japan. She names her cats Japanese words, and loves things related to Japan. I would guess Japan would be her alternate home if she had to pick one.
I love England. I love the food. I love both the accents and the way they speak "properly." I love the attitudes. I'd love to live there for a while. Not forever. I love home here in the U.S. Maybe someday I'll get a chance to live there for a period of time.
When I was eight, my family went to England and the greater U.K. for a study abroad program. My parents were teachers and I was one of the few children with this large group of people. We had a wonderful time. I had such a good time I broke an arm, and then a leg. It was one of those summers. I have fond memories of the whole experience. I wonder if that's where I got my love for England?
The only thing that's a bit of a downer is the weather. It was overcast most of the summer. We had one sunny day in the whole eight weeks. I remember because the students went out and tried to get a tan on that one sunny day. I didn't understand why they were laying on their brown wool blankets in the courtyard until my mother told me.
So, excepting weather, England. But, if I were to have an alternate, alternate home. It would be Australia. There's lots of sun there, mate.
The Big Boy Update: Mister Spotty. He's got spots all over him. Not just the hands and feet and mouth, but up the arms and legs and butt. His trunk is fairly clean, as is his scalp, but he looks like a horror story. The spots that appeared first are going into scab mode and it seems (we hope) that new spots aren't coming as quickly. He also is able to eat with much less pain now. So again, we hope the worst is over. Still no signs his sister has caught it (hope hope hope.)
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Left-handed? She clearly displays a preference for her left hand at this point. When you change her, she can easily grab her left toes with her left hand. Her right hand doesn't make the mark as often. When you present a toy to her, she reaches out with her left hand, even if you position the toy more to the right side. So no predictions yet, but as of today she's looking left-handed
Right-size Countdown: 7.0 pounds to go
Aside from your home country, is there a country you're drawn to more than any other that would be your, "if I couldn't live here, I'd want to live there" country? For instance, I have a friend that loves Japan. She names her cats Japanese words, and loves things related to Japan. I would guess Japan would be her alternate home if she had to pick one.
I love England. I love the food. I love both the accents and the way they speak "properly." I love the attitudes. I'd love to live there for a while. Not forever. I love home here in the U.S. Maybe someday I'll get a chance to live there for a period of time.
When I was eight, my family went to England and the greater U.K. for a study abroad program. My parents were teachers and I was one of the few children with this large group of people. We had a wonderful time. I had such a good time I broke an arm, and then a leg. It was one of those summers. I have fond memories of the whole experience. I wonder if that's where I got my love for England?
The only thing that's a bit of a downer is the weather. It was overcast most of the summer. We had one sunny day in the whole eight weeks. I remember because the students went out and tried to get a tan on that one sunny day. I didn't understand why they were laying on their brown wool blankets in the courtyard until my mother told me.
So, excepting weather, England. But, if I were to have an alternate, alternate home. It would be Australia. There's lots of sun there, mate.
The Big Boy Update: Mister Spotty. He's got spots all over him. Not just the hands and feet and mouth, but up the arms and legs and butt. His trunk is fairly clean, as is his scalp, but he looks like a horror story. The spots that appeared first are going into scab mode and it seems (we hope) that new spots aren't coming as quickly. He also is able to eat with much less pain now. So again, we hope the worst is over. Still no signs his sister has caught it (hope hope hope.)
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Left-handed? She clearly displays a preference for her left hand at this point. When you change her, she can easily grab her left toes with her left hand. Her right hand doesn't make the mark as often. When you present a toy to her, she reaches out with her left hand, even if you position the toy more to the right side. So no predictions yet, but as of today she's looking left-handed
Right-size Countdown: 7.0 pounds to go
Monday, March 26, 2012
Broccoli For Breakfast
Oh dear, I'm really getting into the diet if I'm craving low-calorie, tasty broccoli for breakfast. I suppose that's a good thing though. Better than craving a Cinnabon.
It's been five weeks and both my husband and I are doing well. Neither of us have had a day yet where we've abandoned the diet and said, "I'll start again tomorrow." We've had days where we suspect we ate over our targeted calories, but no cookie box-eating, ice cream container-consuming, bag of chips demolishing days so far.
Five weeks? It hardly seems that long when I look back on it. I suppose that's because we're making progress, and when you're making progress you're inspired to keep going. That and spring is coming. Correction, spring has already arrived if you take into account the clement weather, tree budding and pollen spreading action that's been happening here.
So, over half-way there and I'm still excited about the remaining half to go. I have to thank my husband. Without him and his willingness to do this with me, I'd be right where I started.
Today I go to a Running-start program. Eleven weeks of running to hopefully go from, "Couch to 5K." I'm doing it with a very fit friend of mine who's trying to get some of her friends into things she can do with them. I don't know about the 5K. But I am looking forward to getting some exercise.
The Big Boy Update: Bad night. Last night he wailed. And he wailed. And then he wailed some more. We felt terrible for him. Then my husband and I got cross at each other because we were both so worried about him. The Benadryl wasn't helping to put him to sleep and he was still itchy. He wouldn't eat because the sores in his mouth were so painful. Eventually he wore himself out and slept until morning. We hope last night was the worst night. We'll find out tonight I suppose.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Last of the milk. Today she drank the last of the frozen breast milk. It's all formula from here. She still shows no signs of my son's virus. Nor do I. I don't know that my milk could have had anything to do with her being protected, especially since she might be incubating the virus as I type this, but hopefully it has given her some immunities as a whole.
Right-size Countdown: 7.9 pounds to go
Oh dear, I'm really getting into the diet if I'm craving low-calorie, tasty broccoli for breakfast. I suppose that's a good thing though. Better than craving a Cinnabon.
It's been five weeks and both my husband and I are doing well. Neither of us have had a day yet where we've abandoned the diet and said, "I'll start again tomorrow." We've had days where we suspect we ate over our targeted calories, but no cookie box-eating, ice cream container-consuming, bag of chips demolishing days so far.
Five weeks? It hardly seems that long when I look back on it. I suppose that's because we're making progress, and when you're making progress you're inspired to keep going. That and spring is coming. Correction, spring has already arrived if you take into account the clement weather, tree budding and pollen spreading action that's been happening here.
So, over half-way there and I'm still excited about the remaining half to go. I have to thank my husband. Without him and his willingness to do this with me, I'd be right where I started.
Today I go to a Running-start program. Eleven weeks of running to hopefully go from, "Couch to 5K." I'm doing it with a very fit friend of mine who's trying to get some of her friends into things she can do with them. I don't know about the 5K. But I am looking forward to getting some exercise.
The Big Boy Update: Bad night. Last night he wailed. And he wailed. And then he wailed some more. We felt terrible for him. Then my husband and I got cross at each other because we were both so worried about him. The Benadryl wasn't helping to put him to sleep and he was still itchy. He wouldn't eat because the sores in his mouth were so painful. Eventually he wore himself out and slept until morning. We hope last night was the worst night. We'll find out tonight I suppose.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Last of the milk. Today she drank the last of the frozen breast milk. It's all formula from here. She still shows no signs of my son's virus. Nor do I. I don't know that my milk could have had anything to do with her being protected, especially since she might be incubating the virus as I type this, but hopefully it has given her some immunities as a whole.
Right-size Countdown: 7.9 pounds to go
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Can't Put Down-ness
When reading a book or story, I think about what the author has done in their writing that makes the story good, or the book easy, fun or exciting to read. There are lots of reasons a book can be good. Some books are very slow-paced and full of descriptions, but still are captivating to the reader.
Other books have this "can't put down-ness" to them. I find that a tremendous skill. The author has not only crafted a compelling story, they've done it in a way that's metered out with twists and turns so that every time you think you're ready to stop reading and take a break, you've just got to go one more chapter.
I haven't read the prior Dan Brown books (DaVinci Code, Angels and Demons, etc.) My father-in-law passed on his new book, The Lost Symbol, a while back and said it was very good. At the time, I didn't think I'd read it. I have lots of things that are higher on my "want to do" or "need to get done" lists and at the end of the night, I'm far more likely to lie in bed in the dark and read an e-book on the iPad.
So I stuck the book by the tub—you know how I love my tub—and hoped to get to it eventually. I think I was about ten pages in for close to two months. The next time I picked it up, I hit the start of the "can't put down-ness" and it hasn't stopped yet. It's pretty exciting.
Dan's got multiple character threads going, and each thread is filled with action, intrigue or plot twists. I'm looking forward to the end. Someday, if I ever get around to writing a book, I'm going to have to think about not only an exciting or revelations culmination to the book, but keeping the audience interested as they're reading all the way through.
The Big Boy Update: Playing with the dog. He likes our dog. She's a long-haired Chihuahua that's friendly and not as high-strung as many Chihuahua's are reputed to be. But she's never really liked children. I think they scare her because they're grabby and move quickly. But she likes my son and he likes her. He likes to play with her too. He brings her toys, toys he knows she likes, but then plays keep-away with her. Little does he know, this is exactly what she wants. She loves his tub toys too. He even will throw them out of the tub to her when she asks for one.
Last night his fever was more under control, but the sores on his hands are looking very uncomfortable. They don't seem to bother him more than his normal itchy skin though. But he's not eating that well. He is drinking, so good news there. It is most likely the sores in the back of his mouth that are affecting his appetite. He did try, and eat half of a Popsicle this morning for the first time.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Thumb through the cloth. We've been trying to deflect her from sucking her thumb. She has a hard time holding on to a pacifier and in the middle of the night, it's very easy to find a thumb, or finger, or fingers, instead. So she wears mittens, and in the morning we know she's been trying to suck, because both mittens are wet. Recently I noticed she was completely happy sucking her thumb through her bib. Are we averting one potential problem and replacing it with another, sucking through material? So now, we're going a week or so without the mittens. If we can keep her distracted or confused about her hands for a bit longer, I think we can get her fully on the pacifier, which she seems to like more and more.
Right-size Countdown: 9.4 pounds to go
When reading a book or story, I think about what the author has done in their writing that makes the story good, or the book easy, fun or exciting to read. There are lots of reasons a book can be good. Some books are very slow-paced and full of descriptions, but still are captivating to the reader.
Other books have this "can't put down-ness" to them. I find that a tremendous skill. The author has not only crafted a compelling story, they've done it in a way that's metered out with twists and turns so that every time you think you're ready to stop reading and take a break, you've just got to go one more chapter.
I haven't read the prior Dan Brown books (DaVinci Code, Angels and Demons, etc.) My father-in-law passed on his new book, The Lost Symbol, a while back and said it was very good. At the time, I didn't think I'd read it. I have lots of things that are higher on my "want to do" or "need to get done" lists and at the end of the night, I'm far more likely to lie in bed in the dark and read an e-book on the iPad.
So I stuck the book by the tub—you know how I love my tub—and hoped to get to it eventually. I think I was about ten pages in for close to two months. The next time I picked it up, I hit the start of the "can't put down-ness" and it hasn't stopped yet. It's pretty exciting.
Dan's got multiple character threads going, and each thread is filled with action, intrigue or plot twists. I'm looking forward to the end. Someday, if I ever get around to writing a book, I'm going to have to think about not only an exciting or revelations culmination to the book, but keeping the audience interested as they're reading all the way through.
The Big Boy Update: Playing with the dog. He likes our dog. She's a long-haired Chihuahua that's friendly and not as high-strung as many Chihuahua's are reputed to be. But she's never really liked children. I think they scare her because they're grabby and move quickly. But she likes my son and he likes her. He likes to play with her too. He brings her toys, toys he knows she likes, but then plays keep-away with her. Little does he know, this is exactly what she wants. She loves his tub toys too. He even will throw them out of the tub to her when she asks for one.
Last night his fever was more under control, but the sores on his hands are looking very uncomfortable. They don't seem to bother him more than his normal itchy skin though. But he's not eating that well. He is drinking, so good news there. It is most likely the sores in the back of his mouth that are affecting his appetite. He did try, and eat half of a Popsicle this morning for the first time.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Thumb through the cloth. We've been trying to deflect her from sucking her thumb. She has a hard time holding on to a pacifier and in the middle of the night, it's very easy to find a thumb, or finger, or fingers, instead. So she wears mittens, and in the morning we know she's been trying to suck, because both mittens are wet. Recently I noticed she was completely happy sucking her thumb through her bib. Are we averting one potential problem and replacing it with another, sucking through material? So now, we're going a week or so without the mittens. If we can keep her distracted or confused about her hands for a bit longer, I think we can get her fully on the pacifier, which she seems to like more and more.
Right-size Countdown: 9.4 pounds to go
Saturday, March 24, 2012
"Really Smart"
"Really Smart" seems to be a phrased used to describe someone if they can navigate something that may be challenging or not understood to the other person. For instance, a person might be "really smart" if they can make it to your house without special directions.
But is that really smart? Are you really smart if you look up directions on Google and then follow those directions using existing, well-marked road signs? Or, are you just using the resources at hand?
I'd say you'd be really smart if there was no GPS, no paper maps, no road signs and even possibly no roads and you could make it across town to my house without directions. Now that would be impressive.
Really smart seems to be an overused phrase that describes using resources to your advantage. Still though, it's nice when someone tells you you're really smart, even if you know you're not.
The Big Boy Update: Mister Toad, Mister Mole, Mister Water Rat. Above his changing table are three paintings I had in my bedroom as a child of the characters from The Wind in The Willows. The paintings were made by a close family friend and I think fondly of him when I see them. My son likes to point to them in random order while you change his diaper asking (in baby talk) what each one is. He asks again and again pointing randomly, as if to trip us up in case we answer inconsistently. Today, I think he said "mole" back when I answered "Mister Mole."
Update on the fever. He's much better this morning and today. No real progression on the few spots on his hands and feet and he's eating well. Hopefully he'll have a mild case.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Peas! She had peas for the first time today. After eating so much rice cereal yesterday, we decided it was time. She liked them. She was a mess. Also, she's still not sick. Fingers crossed.
Right-size Countdown: 8.8 pounds to go
"Really Smart" seems to be a phrased used to describe someone if they can navigate something that may be challenging or not understood to the other person. For instance, a person might be "really smart" if they can make it to your house without special directions.
But is that really smart? Are you really smart if you look up directions on Google and then follow those directions using existing, well-marked road signs? Or, are you just using the resources at hand?
I'd say you'd be really smart if there was no GPS, no paper maps, no road signs and even possibly no roads and you could make it across town to my house without directions. Now that would be impressive.
Really smart seems to be an overused phrase that describes using resources to your advantage. Still though, it's nice when someone tells you you're really smart, even if you know you're not.
The Big Boy Update: Mister Toad, Mister Mole, Mister Water Rat. Above his changing table are three paintings I had in my bedroom as a child of the characters from The Wind in The Willows. The paintings were made by a close family friend and I think fondly of him when I see them. My son likes to point to them in random order while you change his diaper asking (in baby talk) what each one is. He asks again and again pointing randomly, as if to trip us up in case we answer inconsistently. Today, I think he said "mole" back when I answered "Mister Mole."
Update on the fever. He's much better this morning and today. No real progression on the few spots on his hands and feet and he's eating well. Hopefully he'll have a mild case.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Peas! She had peas for the first time today. After eating so much rice cereal yesterday, we decided it was time. She liked them. She was a mess. Also, she's still not sick. Fingers crossed.
Right-size Countdown: 8.8 pounds to go
Friday, March 23, 2012
My BID List
I never liked the phrase "Kick the Bucket" so I think I'm going to have a Before I Die list instead. There are some things I know I want to do, but it's not a list I'm running a race to finish. The things on my list are usually things I don't realize I want to do before I die immediately, they're things I realize over time.
With a list like this, is the goal to remove things as quickly as you add them? It seems like you might be setting yourself up to fail if you wait until too late to do certain kinds of things. Well, the kinds of things I have on my list might qualify as hard to do post-retirement.
For instance, I want to go to Advanced Base Camp of Mount Everest. I have no interest at all whatsoever, in going to the top of Everest. I don't want to die, I don't have aspirations of climbing even up to the Death Zone. I just want to go to ABC and see the view, look at the glacier, experience the difficulties the body has adjusting to the oxygen-poor altitude and having my blood thicken to help deliver more oxygen to my cells.
I want to visit the town of Pripyat. I'm fascinated with the Chernobyl accident and the horrible devastation it has caused. The radiation exclusion zone is far larger and more encompassing that just the reactor or the town of Pripyat. There are hundreds of villages that were evacuated and are abandoned today and for many years to come. I'd like to go there, to experience the eerie silence, and reflect on mankind's hubris.
On a more fun note, I'd love to live in England. Maybe only for a few months. I love England. Love it. Would love to live there.
The Big Boy Update: Hand, Foot and Mouth disease. Seriously? Yes, seriously. I made an appointment at the doctor this morning because he's had terrible drainage for weeks now. We were leaving the bounce land, and he'd had a great time. When we got to the doctor several hours later he still seemed fine playing in the waiting room. He had a fever of 103.5. WHAT?! He had spots appearing on his hands and feet and in the back of his mouth. The doctor said it's just a virus that will run its course and to give him Motrin. "But fever!?!" I asked. He said the main concern was dehydration. Later tonight he had a 104.5 fever that sent him to a cool bath and a larger dose of Tylenol. Forty-five minutes later, he's running around playing with his new ball. We're going to watch him tonight and keep on top of the fever-reducers. So far, he's a champ.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She is not sick. We are endeavoring to keep it that way. I called my friends with three children that come to movie night on Fridays and she agreed it was better to keep the whole family home. We're dividing up baby duties for the weekend in the hopes that one child will remain sick-free. From talking to other parents, we'll be lucky if she doesn't catch it. So I'm rooting for luck tonight.
Right-size Countdown: 8.8 pounds to go
I never liked the phrase "Kick the Bucket" so I think I'm going to have a Before I Die list instead. There are some things I know I want to do, but it's not a list I'm running a race to finish. The things on my list are usually things I don't realize I want to do before I die immediately, they're things I realize over time.
With a list like this, is the goal to remove things as quickly as you add them? It seems like you might be setting yourself up to fail if you wait until too late to do certain kinds of things. Well, the kinds of things I have on my list might qualify as hard to do post-retirement.
For instance, I want to go to Advanced Base Camp of Mount Everest. I have no interest at all whatsoever, in going to the top of Everest. I don't want to die, I don't have aspirations of climbing even up to the Death Zone. I just want to go to ABC and see the view, look at the glacier, experience the difficulties the body has adjusting to the oxygen-poor altitude and having my blood thicken to help deliver more oxygen to my cells.
I want to visit the town of Pripyat. I'm fascinated with the Chernobyl accident and the horrible devastation it has caused. The radiation exclusion zone is far larger and more encompassing that just the reactor or the town of Pripyat. There are hundreds of villages that were evacuated and are abandoned today and for many years to come. I'd like to go there, to experience the eerie silence, and reflect on mankind's hubris.
On a more fun note, I'd love to live in England. Maybe only for a few months. I love England. Love it. Would love to live there.
The Big Boy Update: Hand, Foot and Mouth disease. Seriously? Yes, seriously. I made an appointment at the doctor this morning because he's had terrible drainage for weeks now. We were leaving the bounce land, and he'd had a great time. When we got to the doctor several hours later he still seemed fine playing in the waiting room. He had a fever of 103.5. WHAT?! He had spots appearing on his hands and feet and in the back of his mouth. The doctor said it's just a virus that will run its course and to give him Motrin. "But fever!?!" I asked. He said the main concern was dehydration. Later tonight he had a 104.5 fever that sent him to a cool bath and a larger dose of Tylenol. Forty-five minutes later, he's running around playing with his new ball. We're going to watch him tonight and keep on top of the fever-reducers. So far, he's a champ.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She is not sick. We are endeavoring to keep it that way. I called my friends with three children that come to movie night on Fridays and she agreed it was better to keep the whole family home. We're dividing up baby duties for the weekend in the hopes that one child will remain sick-free. From talking to other parents, we'll be lucky if she doesn't catch it. So I'm rooting for luck tonight.
Right-size Countdown: 8.8 pounds to go
Thursday, March 22, 2012
I'm Going to Lose a Baby
My son is heavy. I don't know if it's because people hold my daughter, and then he seems so much heaver in comparison. Maybe it's because he's a dense baby. Not mental dense, meaty dense. Or it could be that babies just get heavier as they get older and he's getting older. Regardless of the reason, you feel like going "oof" when you pick him up.
We weighed him the other day. He weighs 22.5 pounds. He hasn't gained much weight in a while but he's thinned out and grown taller. Still, 22.5 pounds is a decent sack of potatoes to carry up or down multiple flights of stairs.
But wait a minute. Wasn't I planning on losing over twenty pounds? Good grief, is THAT how it feels to lift that much weight? All day long? Every single step?! I've already lost thirty pounds since my heaviest pregnant weight. I now know why my knees were complaining so.
Still, It's hard to believe I'm trying to lose the weight of an entire fifteen-month-old baby. Our bodies are very impressive in the way they carry on, even when we don't take the care of them they deserve.
The Big Boy Update: Chopsticks. He likes them, likes to wave them around and hit things with them. Today at lunch, he wanted some of my meal. We highly encourage him to eat what we're eating (when what we're eating isn't too spicy) and he usually does very well trying new tastes. He really liked the beef and broccoli from Pei Wei. He liked it fed to him on the chopsticks. He even ate rice on chopsticks.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She ate a lot of solids yesterday afternoon. They went down, she swallowed. She even opened her mouth repeatedly for more. On the grocery list now is stage one baby foods. This is where it starts to get fun, watching them try new things and make faces when they like (or dislike) an item. Disliked items get tried again later, and with my son, eventually nothing was refused. I hope my daughter is the same.
Right-size Countdown: 10.0 pounds to go
My son is heavy. I don't know if it's because people hold my daughter, and then he seems so much heaver in comparison. Maybe it's because he's a dense baby. Not mental dense, meaty dense. Or it could be that babies just get heavier as they get older and he's getting older. Regardless of the reason, you feel like going "oof" when you pick him up.
We weighed him the other day. He weighs 22.5 pounds. He hasn't gained much weight in a while but he's thinned out and grown taller. Still, 22.5 pounds is a decent sack of potatoes to carry up or down multiple flights of stairs.
But wait a minute. Wasn't I planning on losing over twenty pounds? Good grief, is THAT how it feels to lift that much weight? All day long? Every single step?! I've already lost thirty pounds since my heaviest pregnant weight. I now know why my knees were complaining so.
Still, It's hard to believe I'm trying to lose the weight of an entire fifteen-month-old baby. Our bodies are very impressive in the way they carry on, even when we don't take the care of them they deserve.
The Big Boy Update: Chopsticks. He likes them, likes to wave them around and hit things with them. Today at lunch, he wanted some of my meal. We highly encourage him to eat what we're eating (when what we're eating isn't too spicy) and he usually does very well trying new tastes. He really liked the beef and broccoli from Pei Wei. He liked it fed to him on the chopsticks. He even ate rice on chopsticks.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She ate a lot of solids yesterday afternoon. They went down, she swallowed. She even opened her mouth repeatedly for more. On the grocery list now is stage one baby foods. This is where it starts to get fun, watching them try new things and make faces when they like (or dislike) an item. Disliked items get tried again later, and with my son, eventually nothing was refused. I hope my daughter is the same.
Right-size Countdown: 10.0 pounds to go
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Three Days of Glorious Rain
I love spring showers. I love spring showers that are accompanied by lightning and thunder. Lots of it. Especially at night. Okay, thinking about it now, I suppose what I really like is spring storms.
For three days now we've had great storms at night. The kind you wake up to because you think lightning has just hit the tree four feet outside your bedroom window—or your child's bedroom window—and you lie there very still trying to count the delay between lightning and thunder.
Then there's the rain that pours down. The kind of rain that's delivered by clouds busy dumping their storm-cloudy goodness as fast as they can. The kind you can hear on the roof even when there's a whole floor above you.
And then there are the overcast, foggy mornings where you need to turn on lights, even though it's 10:00 AM, because it's so ready to storm, only to have clear skies full of sunshine that dries out the pavement by the afternoon.
Spring is such a grand time of year.
The Big Boy Update: Sitting still for a book. Last night, he sat still for a book. Not just a page, a whole book. And not just a four page board book, a real story book. The book was Pop-Up Peter. It was an animated version of Peter Rabbit on the iPad, so it was interestingly interactive. He could touch the original pictures from the book, (the same pictures I remembered from my childhood,) and they'd move and make sounds. I think he liked the story. I'll have to try it again one night when he's tired. In the mean time, we have plenty of great real books we can read to him too.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: OneLooonngggWooorrdd. She's getting more voice lately. She's saying these really long words that might be complaints, or might be her figuring out how to make sounds. But when you're in the car, they sound extra long and extra loud. If there's milk, that usually helps matters, but sometime she just wants to talk.
Right-size Countdown: 9.5 pounds to go
I love spring showers. I love spring showers that are accompanied by lightning and thunder. Lots of it. Especially at night. Okay, thinking about it now, I suppose what I really like is spring storms.
For three days now we've had great storms at night. The kind you wake up to because you think lightning has just hit the tree four feet outside your bedroom window—or your child's bedroom window—and you lie there very still trying to count the delay between lightning and thunder.
Then there's the rain that pours down. The kind of rain that's delivered by clouds busy dumping their storm-cloudy goodness as fast as they can. The kind you can hear on the roof even when there's a whole floor above you.
And then there are the overcast, foggy mornings where you need to turn on lights, even though it's 10:00 AM, because it's so ready to storm, only to have clear skies full of sunshine that dries out the pavement by the afternoon.
Spring is such a grand time of year.
The Big Boy Update: Sitting still for a book. Last night, he sat still for a book. Not just a page, a whole book. And not just a four page board book, a real story book. The book was Pop-Up Peter. It was an animated version of Peter Rabbit on the iPad, so it was interestingly interactive. He could touch the original pictures from the book, (the same pictures I remembered from my childhood,) and they'd move and make sounds. I think he liked the story. I'll have to try it again one night when he's tired. In the mean time, we have plenty of great real books we can read to him too.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: OneLooonngggWooorrdd. She's getting more voice lately. She's saying these really long words that might be complaints, or might be her figuring out how to make sounds. But when you're in the car, they sound extra long and extra loud. If there's milk, that usually helps matters, but sometime she just wants to talk.
Right-size Countdown: 9.5 pounds to go
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Sayings From History
My history. My pop life history. It seems like we pick up sayings over our lives that become embedded in our speech. For instance, "make my day," is a popular phrase. I think my mother even knows the saying, and I don't know if she's ever seen the movie.
I realized the other day that I regularly use certain sayings that have strange beginnings. For instance, "hello nurse." It's a non-swear exclamation I picked up from the Animaniacs show many years ago. I only watched the show a few times, but it was such a cute phrase I incorporated it into my vocabulary.
The same goes for "mama pajama," a similar phrase I picked up from one of my favorite movies, Mystery Men.
Then there are the strange "completion phrases" that seem to come up. When someone says one thing, you remember specific completion words that come afterwards. I got a little book titled, "Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy" from a popular Saturday Night Live skit series that must have been twenty years ago. In one of the deep thoughts, there's a story about accidentally falling off a tall building and a plan to be saved if this were to ever happen to you. You should go all limp and maybe someone will try to catch you, "Because hey, free dummy."
Was it the sheer bizarreness of the story that made me remember and later connect the words, "but hey" with the completion words, "free dummy"? You'd be amazed how often people say just the two words, "but hey..."
Then there are the personal sayings. They're not from a movie or pop culture. Maybe they're from someone you knew or a funny inside joke you have with friends. I can think of two, both of them I started out hating, and yet, in the right situation, I use them. How crazy is that? The first is "huggles."
Someone said it to me one time and I thought it was so totally goofy. I use it as a joke sometimes. It always makes me laugh when I say huggles.
The other is "hun pie." I heard a lady I respected many years ago call her husband "hun pie" instead of "honey" or "honey pie." It sounded like a strange shorting but I realized later I used it all the time and I didn't even know I was using it.
I know, I was just talking about idioms and how I dislike using them in writing. And then I realize I have not only cultural but personal idioms. We have such a changeable, malleable language.
The Big Boy Update: He's having fun with Dusty. The sister of my good friend Brek is a nanny. She's only nannying three days a week so I asked her if she could come over to help today, and then make it more regular in the future as I want to do some work-related things. He's having a great time with her, showing her all his toys.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She's over four months now and she is still doing better than I'd ever have expected sleeping through the night. She wakes up early, before nine, many mornings, but she rarely needs to be settled in the middle of the night. She's still very interested in sucking some part of her hand, but she's not angry there are mittens on. She just sucks the material when she's lost the pacifier.
Right-size Countdown: 10.1 pounds to go
My history. My pop life history. It seems like we pick up sayings over our lives that become embedded in our speech. For instance, "make my day," is a popular phrase. I think my mother even knows the saying, and I don't know if she's ever seen the movie.
I realized the other day that I regularly use certain sayings that have strange beginnings. For instance, "hello nurse." It's a non-swear exclamation I picked up from the Animaniacs show many years ago. I only watched the show a few times, but it was such a cute phrase I incorporated it into my vocabulary.
The same goes for "mama pajama," a similar phrase I picked up from one of my favorite movies, Mystery Men.
Then there are the strange "completion phrases" that seem to come up. When someone says one thing, you remember specific completion words that come afterwards. I got a little book titled, "Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy" from a popular Saturday Night Live skit series that must have been twenty years ago. In one of the deep thoughts, there's a story about accidentally falling off a tall building and a plan to be saved if this were to ever happen to you. You should go all limp and maybe someone will try to catch you, "Because hey, free dummy."
Was it the sheer bizarreness of the story that made me remember and later connect the words, "but hey" with the completion words, "free dummy"? You'd be amazed how often people say just the two words, "but hey..."
Then there are the personal sayings. They're not from a movie or pop culture. Maybe they're from someone you knew or a funny inside joke you have with friends. I can think of two, both of them I started out hating, and yet, in the right situation, I use them. How crazy is that? The first is "huggles."
Someone said it to me one time and I thought it was so totally goofy. I use it as a joke sometimes. It always makes me laugh when I say huggles.
The other is "hun pie." I heard a lady I respected many years ago call her husband "hun pie" instead of "honey" or "honey pie." It sounded like a strange shorting but I realized later I used it all the time and I didn't even know I was using it.
I know, I was just talking about idioms and how I dislike using them in writing. And then I realize I have not only cultural but personal idioms. We have such a changeable, malleable language.
The Big Boy Update: He's having fun with Dusty. The sister of my good friend Brek is a nanny. She's only nannying three days a week so I asked her if she could come over to help today, and then make it more regular in the future as I want to do some work-related things. He's having a great time with her, showing her all his toys.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She's over four months now and she is still doing better than I'd ever have expected sleeping through the night. She wakes up early, before nine, many mornings, but she rarely needs to be settled in the middle of the night. She's still very interested in sucking some part of her hand, but she's not angry there are mittens on. She just sucks the material when she's lost the pacifier.
Right-size Countdown: 10.1 pounds to go
Monday, March 19, 2012
Oh No, I Didn't
Oh yes, I did. I said I wasn't going to, but I tried to see if I could put on pants from before the babies. I said I was going to wait until I was at least the weight I was before I got pregnant with my son. I should have listened to myself.
Did they fit? The first pair I tried on did, but barely. The second pair, not so much. I was nine pounds over my target weight when I got pregnant, so I'm not overly surprised they were too tight in multiple places. It turned into a good thing though. I realized that while I've made it half-way, I still have the other half to go.
It also helped me realize that even though I look thinner in the mirror, it's only from some angles. I turned sideways last night before getting into the tub and I can see where lots of the weight still is, slam in the middle of the baby growing area. So I'm still committed. Good. Whew. No time for slacking.
Speaking of the tub, last night the strangest thing happened. Just as I was getting in, the dog ran up and stood on the edge of the rim. She does this when my son gets in, he has squeaky toys she goes nuts for when he's having a bath. I explained he wasn't here. She didn't budge. I reached over the edge to pick her up, and she didn't scatter like she normally does. Did she want a bath?!
She''s never asked for a bath. Wow. I run a very hot tub so I cooled it down and she waited. She got in, let me wash her and then got a blow dry with the hair dryer. I guess she got tired of having good dropped on her head from the high-chair above and wanted to get clean.
The Big Boy Update: We have some great hand-me-down clothes from our friend's son, Gavin. My son is just starting to be able to wear some of them. He's sported overall shorts the last two days and looked adorable. If only he'd not fall down so much for a week, he'd have a little less bruised legs to show off.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Loves you. She just loves you. I never expected her to be so smiley. She smiles when you talk to her. She smiles when you pick her up. She smiles when you take her clothes off. She even smiles at you when she's got a bottle in her mouth. She is one happy baby.
Right-size Countdown: 9.9 pounds to go (Week four weigh-in and I'm half-way there)
Oh yes, I did. I said I wasn't going to, but I tried to see if I could put on pants from before the babies. I said I was going to wait until I was at least the weight I was before I got pregnant with my son. I should have listened to myself.
Did they fit? The first pair I tried on did, but barely. The second pair, not so much. I was nine pounds over my target weight when I got pregnant, so I'm not overly surprised they were too tight in multiple places. It turned into a good thing though. I realized that while I've made it half-way, I still have the other half to go.
It also helped me realize that even though I look thinner in the mirror, it's only from some angles. I turned sideways last night before getting into the tub and I can see where lots of the weight still is, slam in the middle of the baby growing area. So I'm still committed. Good. Whew. No time for slacking.
Speaking of the tub, last night the strangest thing happened. Just as I was getting in, the dog ran up and stood on the edge of the rim. She does this when my son gets in, he has squeaky toys she goes nuts for when he's having a bath. I explained he wasn't here. She didn't budge. I reached over the edge to pick her up, and she didn't scatter like she normally does. Did she want a bath?!
She''s never asked for a bath. Wow. I run a very hot tub so I cooled it down and she waited. She got in, let me wash her and then got a blow dry with the hair dryer. I guess she got tired of having good dropped on her head from the high-chair above and wanted to get clean.
The Big Boy Update: We have some great hand-me-down clothes from our friend's son, Gavin. My son is just starting to be able to wear some of them. He's sported overall shorts the last two days and looked adorable. If only he'd not fall down so much for a week, he'd have a little less bruised legs to show off.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Loves you. She just loves you. I never expected her to be so smiley. She smiles when you talk to her. She smiles when you pick her up. She smiles when you take her clothes off. She even smiles at you when she's got a bottle in her mouth. She is one happy baby.
Right-size Countdown: 9.9 pounds to go (Week four weigh-in and I'm half-way there)
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Work of Fiction
Yesterday's post was a work of fiction. I've been doing well on the diet and aside from one terribly delicious Indian dinner, I've managed to stay on it and have continued to make progress. But I needed a topic I could quickly write about to do a test for myself.
I dislike idioms. That's not entirely true, I think idioms are great, but I don't think they're needed to write clearly or write well even. I've been trying to watch my usage of idioms in verbal speech. I wasn't sure if I used them a lot or not. I do use them, but not as much as I thought I might. But how easy (or difficult) is it to write intentionally using idioms? As it turns out, it's very easy.
I picked dieting because it was a topic that's on my mind a lot, and it was a subject that lent itself well to the idioms that were coming to mind. I was amazed that in five minutes, I had easily written a post that was heavily laden with idioms, sometimes two per sentence. In just four small paragraphs, I go in thirteen. I was surprised.
Could I have written the same semantic content without the use of a single idiom? Easily. It's just how you approach writing. I'm writing this blog, in part, to work on my writing. This was an experiment to myself, and it was very interesting.
The Big Boy Update: Abstract Ball. My father bought a painting of a pink elephant for us to hang in the children's room. Yesterday as I was finding a spot for it on the wall, my son pointed to it and said "ball." He says ball a lot, but I looked at the painting and at the bottom, there was a strange looking large round ball. I asked him what he was saying and brought the painting closer to him. He pointed right to the ball and said "ball" again. He's learning how to abstract three-dimensional things into two dimensional representations. I was impressed.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: So Happy. Last night we had one of those crazy thunderstorms you get from time to time. It was a dark and stormy night as it were. And it was accompanied by some very aggressive lightning that sounded like it was in the lot next door. My husband went upstairs to check on a roof leak we found recently that had been prepared. He also checked on the babies and said he had never seen my daughter so happy. She was very awake, was waggling her arms and legs around vigorously and had the biggest grin on her face. She is definitely not afraid of thunderstorms.
Right-size Countdown: 10.4 pounds to go
Yesterday's post was a work of fiction. I've been doing well on the diet and aside from one terribly delicious Indian dinner, I've managed to stay on it and have continued to make progress. But I needed a topic I could quickly write about to do a test for myself.
I dislike idioms. That's not entirely true, I think idioms are great, but I don't think they're needed to write clearly or write well even. I've been trying to watch my usage of idioms in verbal speech. I wasn't sure if I used them a lot or not. I do use them, but not as much as I thought I might. But how easy (or difficult) is it to write intentionally using idioms? As it turns out, it's very easy.
I picked dieting because it was a topic that's on my mind a lot, and it was a subject that lent itself well to the idioms that were coming to mind. I was amazed that in five minutes, I had easily written a post that was heavily laden with idioms, sometimes two per sentence. In just four small paragraphs, I go in thirteen. I was surprised.
Could I have written the same semantic content without the use of a single idiom? Easily. It's just how you approach writing. I'm writing this blog, in part, to work on my writing. This was an experiment to myself, and it was very interesting.
The Big Boy Update: Abstract Ball. My father bought a painting of a pink elephant for us to hang in the children's room. Yesterday as I was finding a spot for it on the wall, my son pointed to it and said "ball." He says ball a lot, but I looked at the painting and at the bottom, there was a strange looking large round ball. I asked him what he was saying and brought the painting closer to him. He pointed right to the ball and said "ball" again. He's learning how to abstract three-dimensional things into two dimensional representations. I was impressed.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: So Happy. Last night we had one of those crazy thunderstorms you get from time to time. It was a dark and stormy night as it were. And it was accompanied by some very aggressive lightning that sounded like it was in the lot next door. My husband went upstairs to check on a roof leak we found recently that had been prepared. He also checked on the babies and said he had never seen my daughter so happy. She was very awake, was waggling her arms and legs around vigorously and had the biggest grin on her face. She is definitely not afraid of thunderstorms.
Right-size Countdown: 10.4 pounds to go
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Turning Over a New Leaf
With this diet, sometimes I just want to eat anything, “Down the hatch” I like to say. I sit wide awake at night, wondering how I’m going to lose the weight. The next morning I look at the calendar, realize how long I’ve been on the diet and think how the time has flown and how I’m not where I could be with this diet.
I want to be more on the ball. I don’t want to throw in the towel yet and give up on the diet— especially when my husband is willing to cook great, low-calorie healthy meals. That would be like looking a gift horse in the mouth.
But it’s a tall order to keep up a diet week after week (and I’m only into the fourth week.) I realize I decided to go old school, forgoing any fancy diet, and diet based on caloric intake alone. That type of dieting is right up my alley. But now I’m thinking I should look into alternatives, something may strike my fancy.
So, tomorrow I’m going to turn over a new leaf. I’m going to try not to go bananas with some crazy diet, but I’m going to call it a day for today and start clean tomorrow.
The Big Boy Update: Backing into the corner. I'd heard about a friend's child doing this, but it wasn't until yesterday that I caught my son doing it. He came out of the toy closet and backed into an empty corner and was apparently looking off at nothing interesting. While I was trying to figure out why he was there, I saw him squat a little bit and get red in the face. Ah ha. He was taking a potty break. When I realized what he was doing, I couldn't stop laughing. He didn't notice me, finished, and went back to play with his toys.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: What a grip. She likes holding on to things. Once she's got a good grasp, she doesn't let go. She likes things that rattle, crinkle and jangle. I have some connected bangle metal bracelets I found that are all kinds of fun. Today I got pictures of her holding on to something in each hand, looking back and forth trying to figure them out at the same time.
Right-size Countdown: 11.3 pounds to go
With this diet, sometimes I just want to eat anything, “Down the hatch” I like to say. I sit wide awake at night, wondering how I’m going to lose the weight. The next morning I look at the calendar, realize how long I’ve been on the diet and think how the time has flown and how I’m not where I could be with this diet.
I want to be more on the ball. I don’t want to throw in the towel yet and give up on the diet— especially when my husband is willing to cook great, low-calorie healthy meals. That would be like looking a gift horse in the mouth.
But it’s a tall order to keep up a diet week after week (and I’m only into the fourth week.) I realize I decided to go old school, forgoing any fancy diet, and diet based on caloric intake alone. That type of dieting is right up my alley. But now I’m thinking I should look into alternatives, something may strike my fancy.
So, tomorrow I’m going to turn over a new leaf. I’m going to try not to go bananas with some crazy diet, but I’m going to call it a day for today and start clean tomorrow.
The Big Boy Update: Backing into the corner. I'd heard about a friend's child doing this, but it wasn't until yesterday that I caught my son doing it. He came out of the toy closet and backed into an empty corner and was apparently looking off at nothing interesting. While I was trying to figure out why he was there, I saw him squat a little bit and get red in the face. Ah ha. He was taking a potty break. When I realized what he was doing, I couldn't stop laughing. He didn't notice me, finished, and went back to play with his toys.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: What a grip. She likes holding on to things. Once she's got a good grasp, she doesn't let go. She likes things that rattle, crinkle and jangle. I have some connected bangle metal bracelets I found that are all kinds of fun. Today I got pictures of her holding on to something in each hand, looking back and forth trying to figure them out at the same time.
Right-size Countdown: 11.3 pounds to go
Friday, March 16, 2012
My New Favorite Food
I've never been a huge broccoli fan. I like broccoli. I just don't love or crave broccoli. I love cupcakes. I love pixie stix, I love garlic mashed potatoes. Broccoli is okay, on the side, to add color. But not as a main food item.
But on this diet, broccoli is so tasty. In large part, it's how my husband prepares it with a little butter and some seasonings. But I think the main thing that makes broccoli taste so good is the knowledge that it's very low in calories. I can just pile it on to my plate and know I can go back for seconds without worrying what result I'll find when I step on the scale in the morning.
I'm fairly sure there's a psychosomatic element that's making broccoli taste far more delicious than it would if I wasn't focused on losing weight. But I am not complaining. What I am doing is asking for more broccoli for dinner. "Hey, do you think you can add broccoli to dinner? Maybe some zucchini and squash too?" It's so nice to eat lots and have so little worry. It's even nicer to be able to eat lots, feel satisfied and full, and know you're not only eating healthy, you're eating within your caloric limit for the day.
So go broccoli, you're my new favorite food.
The Big Boy Update: Runny nose, still. I'm a little concerned at how much his nose is running. It's clear, but it's a lot. He had non-clear drainage for several days that would dry inside his nose and we'd have a combative baby in the morning while we tried to get it cleaned. His nose is also a bit raw from being wiped a lot. I put some antibiotic on it as well. Today it's better, but I've been thinking back and it seems he's had a runny nose for a lot longer than he should have for any single cold incident. If it keeps up, I'm considering taking him to the doctor and making sure it isn't allergies.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Rice Cereal. She's trying it. She thinks it's interesting. But so far, I don't think any is getting down. The good news is, she's interested in the whole eating process. More information on the solids front in a week or two when she learns how to swallow.
Right-size Countdown: 11.7 pounds to go
I've never been a huge broccoli fan. I like broccoli. I just don't love or crave broccoli. I love cupcakes. I love pixie stix, I love garlic mashed potatoes. Broccoli is okay, on the side, to add color. But not as a main food item.
But on this diet, broccoli is so tasty. In large part, it's how my husband prepares it with a little butter and some seasonings. But I think the main thing that makes broccoli taste so good is the knowledge that it's very low in calories. I can just pile it on to my plate and know I can go back for seconds without worrying what result I'll find when I step on the scale in the morning.
I'm fairly sure there's a psychosomatic element that's making broccoli taste far more delicious than it would if I wasn't focused on losing weight. But I am not complaining. What I am doing is asking for more broccoli for dinner. "Hey, do you think you can add broccoli to dinner? Maybe some zucchini and squash too?" It's so nice to eat lots and have so little worry. It's even nicer to be able to eat lots, feel satisfied and full, and know you're not only eating healthy, you're eating within your caloric limit for the day.
So go broccoli, you're my new favorite food.
The Big Boy Update: Runny nose, still. I'm a little concerned at how much his nose is running. It's clear, but it's a lot. He had non-clear drainage for several days that would dry inside his nose and we'd have a combative baby in the morning while we tried to get it cleaned. His nose is also a bit raw from being wiped a lot. I put some antibiotic on it as well. Today it's better, but I've been thinking back and it seems he's had a runny nose for a lot longer than he should have for any single cold incident. If it keeps up, I'm considering taking him to the doctor and making sure it isn't allergies.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Rice Cereal. She's trying it. She thinks it's interesting. But so far, I don't think any is getting down. The good news is, she's interested in the whole eating process. More information on the solids front in a week or two when she learns how to swallow.
Right-size Countdown: 11.7 pounds to go
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Sidetracked Again
It seems like some posts I know what I'm going to write about, but by the time I'm done writing, I ended up saying something else. Not that I got confused, I just didn't end up saying what I thought I was going to say.
I taught corporate education for many years. Anytime I had to teach something new, I didn't ever rehearse. I couldn't rehearse because if I did, I'd never be able to say it just like that again. I'd think at length about the kinds of things I'd want to cover, and the best order in which to cover them. But I never rehearsed.
Say I've got a difficult discussion I need to have with someone. I can't rehearse what I'm going to say, because if I do, it's a guarantee those great points will never be said. It's as though I'm processing something and just by thinking it in my head, it's been dealt with, never to return.
I do that in posts here. I have the best idea in the tub (it's always in the tub it seems) and even sometimes send myself quick reminders so I don't forget what I was thinking about. Then, I start writing here, and something entirely different comes out. Say, for example, this post.
The Big Boy Update: Sitting still. I can't believe it. He can sit still. He can sit still for five minutes. And he'll let you hold him in your lap. Sesame Street needs to be on, or some other kid show he likes. But he can do it. He also face planted in a full forward knee to body slam fall while out on the street this evening. I was expecting teeth through the lip and missing knee skin. Somehow, he must didn't hurt a thing. Later, he got hit in the face with a basketball and only cried for a minute. I guess they are made of rubber at this age.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Holding the bottle. She wants to help you when you feed her. She likes to try and hold the bottle. She usually makes it more difficult to feed her when she does it, so we've compromised. I hold the bottle and she holds my fingers.
Right-size Countdown: 10.3 pounds to go
It seems like some posts I know what I'm going to write about, but by the time I'm done writing, I ended up saying something else. Not that I got confused, I just didn't end up saying what I thought I was going to say.
I taught corporate education for many years. Anytime I had to teach something new, I didn't ever rehearse. I couldn't rehearse because if I did, I'd never be able to say it just like that again. I'd think at length about the kinds of things I'd want to cover, and the best order in which to cover them. But I never rehearsed.
Say I've got a difficult discussion I need to have with someone. I can't rehearse what I'm going to say, because if I do, it's a guarantee those great points will never be said. It's as though I'm processing something and just by thinking it in my head, it's been dealt with, never to return.
I do that in posts here. I have the best idea in the tub (it's always in the tub it seems) and even sometimes send myself quick reminders so I don't forget what I was thinking about. Then, I start writing here, and something entirely different comes out. Say, for example, this post.
The Big Boy Update: Sitting still. I can't believe it. He can sit still. He can sit still for five minutes. And he'll let you hold him in your lap. Sesame Street needs to be on, or some other kid show he likes. But he can do it. He also face planted in a full forward knee to body slam fall while out on the street this evening. I was expecting teeth through the lip and missing knee skin. Somehow, he must didn't hurt a thing. Later, he got hit in the face with a basketball and only cried for a minute. I guess they are made of rubber at this age.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Holding the bottle. She wants to help you when you feed her. She likes to try and hold the bottle. She usually makes it more difficult to feed her when she does it, so we've compromised. I hold the bottle and she holds my fingers.
Right-size Countdown: 10.3 pounds to go
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Five Pages a Day
I was reading a book recently from an author I like and he had a little video at the end of the book (e-book) that talked about his writing process. He turns out long books, but they're action-packed, and quite detailed in the way you know comes from doing lots of research on obscure topics before writing about them.
I was surprised to hear he found he writes the best when he only writes about five pages per day. That's it. He said writing more in a day didn't create worthwhile or good content because it seemed he was working hard to produce volume, not quality. So he sticks to writing a little each day, but focuses on doing it well.
I'd like to write a book someday. I realize to do this you need a topic or a story. And in today's market, even to get the approval of friends or family, it's got to be darned good. And I'm not there yet. But someday, when I have the gripping, thrilling, exciting, fun story with the crazy unexpected twist ending, I'm going to be ready to plot it all out...at five pages a day.
I like the idea of not cramming to get it all written so quickly that you lose sight of quality on a page by page level. I also need to do a lot of work on my writing first, which is one of the reasons I started this blog as my experience in technical writing and talking to my children isn't exactly the best practice for writing fiction.
On the other hand, I could write one of those "board books" for children that have only about ten pages in the whole book. I'd be done in two days. Pity I don't draw as well since that seems to be a requirement for those types of books.
The Big Boy Update: Climbing back in. He's figured out not only how to get back into the "contraption" (a bouncing toy with toys all around it) and the "scoot-about" (the saucer.) Last night he tried for twenty minutes to get out of the scoot-about, only to climb back in when my husband rescued him. Today he got into the contraption, which was on the lowest height for my daughter, and jumped up and down vigorously while aggressively whacking and attacking the enticement toys all around it.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She's found her feet. She likes to hold them and look at them and play with them. She's better at catching the left foot with the left hand than any other combination. Today, I put her in clothes without socks so she could see her feet. She wasn't interested, so I thought it was a one time thing. Twice later, when I was changing her, she did it again. It appears being naked helps her notice her feet. So she hung around naked tonight for a while investigating her toes and flapping her arms.
Right-size Countdown: 11.3 pounds to go
I was reading a book recently from an author I like and he had a little video at the end of the book (e-book) that talked about his writing process. He turns out long books, but they're action-packed, and quite detailed in the way you know comes from doing lots of research on obscure topics before writing about them.
I was surprised to hear he found he writes the best when he only writes about five pages per day. That's it. He said writing more in a day didn't create worthwhile or good content because it seemed he was working hard to produce volume, not quality. So he sticks to writing a little each day, but focuses on doing it well.
I'd like to write a book someday. I realize to do this you need a topic or a story. And in today's market, even to get the approval of friends or family, it's got to be darned good. And I'm not there yet. But someday, when I have the gripping, thrilling, exciting, fun story with the crazy unexpected twist ending, I'm going to be ready to plot it all out...at five pages a day.
I like the idea of not cramming to get it all written so quickly that you lose sight of quality on a page by page level. I also need to do a lot of work on my writing first, which is one of the reasons I started this blog as my experience in technical writing and talking to my children isn't exactly the best practice for writing fiction.
On the other hand, I could write one of those "board books" for children that have only about ten pages in the whole book. I'd be done in two days. Pity I don't draw as well since that seems to be a requirement for those types of books.
The Big Boy Update: Climbing back in. He's figured out not only how to get back into the "contraption" (a bouncing toy with toys all around it) and the "scoot-about" (the saucer.) Last night he tried for twenty minutes to get out of the scoot-about, only to climb back in when my husband rescued him. Today he got into the contraption, which was on the lowest height for my daughter, and jumped up and down vigorously while aggressively whacking and attacking the enticement toys all around it.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She's found her feet. She likes to hold them and look at them and play with them. She's better at catching the left foot with the left hand than any other combination. Today, I put her in clothes without socks so she could see her feet. She wasn't interested, so I thought it was a one time thing. Twice later, when I was changing her, she did it again. It appears being naked helps her notice her feet. So she hung around naked tonight for a while investigating her toes and flapping her arms.
Right-size Countdown: 11.3 pounds to go
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Forgiving
I work at being forgiving. I work hard at it. And by that, I don't mean forgiving someone for spilling hot coffee on me or doing me some perceived injustice. I mean tolerant.
We're all different. We all do things differently. We all have our preferences and dislikes. We all think different things. Sometimes those differences intrude on your world in a way you don't feel comfortable. It could be something as simple as how people change a diaper differently, or as big as political views. I really don't mind differences, some just are more intrusive than others.
I do a lot of observing of other people's behavior. Some people are much more tolerant of others. Some people just don't seem to care. And then there are the people who just can't seem to get along with people because they're so very intolerant. I really want to be one the type of person who cares about other people and respects their differences.
I'm fairly certain I don't succeed at that. It depends entirely on the closeness of the person to me. Someone I hardly know, it's never an issue. But the people closest to me I need to work harder on being more tolerant, more forgiving or their preferences or ways of doing things.
I will keep working on this and hopefully I'll be the kind of person I want to be one day. I've always believed if you're not trying to improve yourself, you have given up on yourself.
The Big Boy Update: He bumped his head last night and got a scrape when he went down the back stairs outside my parents house. My mother, it seems now, almost sacrificed herself to make sure he didn't get hurt. She looked a bit stunned, but said nothing was wrong. Today, his little scrape is healing while she had hip and wrist x-rays taken. She's bruised up but doesn't appear to have any breaks. Her doctor said that babies his age are made of rubber while people my mother's age aren't so lucky when it comes to falls. My mother is always the kindest person. I hope she recovers quickly.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Four month checkup. She's gone from the 10th percentile to the 50th percentile in measurements. In the last two months, she's grown three inches in length and her weight is doing well as well. We're starting her on rice cereal tomorrow as a regular thing. She gets to practice eating in addition to drinking now.
Right-size Countdown: 13.2 pounds to go (Going a bit backwards for some inexplicable reason. I'm eating less than I burn daily. Hopefully this will settle out in the next few days. I haven't slid backwards or given in to food. This will work itself out soon, I'm sure.)
I work at being forgiving. I work hard at it. And by that, I don't mean forgiving someone for spilling hot coffee on me or doing me some perceived injustice. I mean tolerant.
We're all different. We all do things differently. We all have our preferences and dislikes. We all think different things. Sometimes those differences intrude on your world in a way you don't feel comfortable. It could be something as simple as how people change a diaper differently, or as big as political views. I really don't mind differences, some just are more intrusive than others.
I do a lot of observing of other people's behavior. Some people are much more tolerant of others. Some people just don't seem to care. And then there are the people who just can't seem to get along with people because they're so very intolerant. I really want to be one the type of person who cares about other people and respects their differences.
I'm fairly certain I don't succeed at that. It depends entirely on the closeness of the person to me. Someone I hardly know, it's never an issue. But the people closest to me I need to work harder on being more tolerant, more forgiving or their preferences or ways of doing things.
I will keep working on this and hopefully I'll be the kind of person I want to be one day. I've always believed if you're not trying to improve yourself, you have given up on yourself.
The Big Boy Update: He bumped his head last night and got a scrape when he went down the back stairs outside my parents house. My mother, it seems now, almost sacrificed herself to make sure he didn't get hurt. She looked a bit stunned, but said nothing was wrong. Today, his little scrape is healing while she had hip and wrist x-rays taken. She's bruised up but doesn't appear to have any breaks. Her doctor said that babies his age are made of rubber while people my mother's age aren't so lucky when it comes to falls. My mother is always the kindest person. I hope she recovers quickly.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Four month checkup. She's gone from the 10th percentile to the 50th percentile in measurements. In the last two months, she's grown three inches in length and her weight is doing well as well. We're starting her on rice cereal tomorrow as a regular thing. She gets to practice eating in addition to drinking now.
Right-size Countdown: 13.2 pounds to go (Going a bit backwards for some inexplicable reason. I'm eating less than I burn daily. Hopefully this will settle out in the next few days. I haven't slid backwards or given in to food. This will work itself out soon, I'm sure.)
Monday, March 12, 2012
My Little Memory
It's been four months since my daughter was born. Due to one leg being stuck over her head, she was unable to turn around and I had to have a "section." Wasn't it called a "C-Section" in the past? When did the C become obsolete? I heard doctors use the full name—cesarean section—but if they abbreviated it at all, it was just plain "section."
I really didn't want to have baby-delivery surgery. I wanted to keep my innards intact and push her out like a good mom. I wanted to do the huffing and puffing and complaining about the painfulness of labor and all that good stuff for hours on end. But after an unsuccessful "version" procedure—short for "external cephalic version"—to try and turn the baby around, it was looking like a "section" was the way it was going to go down.
Not ready to give up yet, lots of other hokum followed, including trying to stand on my head, eating nothing but daises for a day, visiting three popcorn stands in alphabetical order and a good measure of thinking really hard at the fetus to turn around. Eventually, I was resigned to having a surgical delivery.
I didn't want the scar, I didn't want the pain of recovering from the surgery, I wanted to do the right thing and go the hard route and have the baby the way my body was suppose to have it. What I got was a small scar, a very easy and quick delivery, a recovery that wasn't nearly as painful or as difficult as I expected. In short, it wasn't that bad and I can understand why women who have had one cesarean, would be ready to have another one the next time.
Still, scar. Ugh. Was I destined to never wear a two-piece bathing suit again? As it turns out, no. The scar is so low down, even the most revealing of suits wouldn't even show it. Not that I'm going to wear a skimpy suit. But still... So now I look at the scar and it's just my little memory of delivering my daughter, not the body-marring mark I was expecting it to be.
The Big Boy Update: LOUD. GOOD GRIEF HE IS LOUD. He's a happy baby, and he's got a lot of energy. But he has no indoor voice yet. We're working on him being reasonable when he talks or wants food at the table, but it's going to be a bit of work in the next months to work on both his volume and his manners.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Yesterday I asked my husband which child he wanted and I'd take the other one with me for a while. He said he'd take my son because there would be "less troubleshooting." I couldn't stop laughing. She does cry sometimes and you're not sure what the problem is. But it's not that way for me. I usually know what she wants. I suppose the more time you spend with a baby, the more you know what they want or need.
Right-size Countdown: 11.5 pounds to go (Three week weigh-in and we're staying on track.)
It's been four months since my daughter was born. Due to one leg being stuck over her head, she was unable to turn around and I had to have a "section." Wasn't it called a "C-Section" in the past? When did the C become obsolete? I heard doctors use the full name—cesarean section—but if they abbreviated it at all, it was just plain "section."
I really didn't want to have baby-delivery surgery. I wanted to keep my innards intact and push her out like a good mom. I wanted to do the huffing and puffing and complaining about the painfulness of labor and all that good stuff for hours on end. But after an unsuccessful "version" procedure—short for "external cephalic version"—to try and turn the baby around, it was looking like a "section" was the way it was going to go down.
Not ready to give up yet, lots of other hokum followed, including trying to stand on my head, eating nothing but daises for a day, visiting three popcorn stands in alphabetical order and a good measure of thinking really hard at the fetus to turn around. Eventually, I was resigned to having a surgical delivery.
I didn't want the scar, I didn't want the pain of recovering from the surgery, I wanted to do the right thing and go the hard route and have the baby the way my body was suppose to have it. What I got was a small scar, a very easy and quick delivery, a recovery that wasn't nearly as painful or as difficult as I expected. In short, it wasn't that bad and I can understand why women who have had one cesarean, would be ready to have another one the next time.
Still, scar. Ugh. Was I destined to never wear a two-piece bathing suit again? As it turns out, no. The scar is so low down, even the most revealing of suits wouldn't even show it. Not that I'm going to wear a skimpy suit. But still... So now I look at the scar and it's just my little memory of delivering my daughter, not the body-marring mark I was expecting it to be.
The Big Boy Update: LOUD. GOOD GRIEF HE IS LOUD. He's a happy baby, and he's got a lot of energy. But he has no indoor voice yet. We're working on him being reasonable when he talks or wants food at the table, but it's going to be a bit of work in the next months to work on both his volume and his manners.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Yesterday I asked my husband which child he wanted and I'd take the other one with me for a while. He said he'd take my son because there would be "less troubleshooting." I couldn't stop laughing. She does cry sometimes and you're not sure what the problem is. But it's not that way for me. I usually know what she wants. I suppose the more time you spend with a baby, the more you know what they want or need.
Right-size Countdown: 11.5 pounds to go (Three week weigh-in and we're staying on track.)
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Delicious Sucky Device
It's always interesting to see the nicknames we come up with for things. For instance, the babies go to be in "night night" clothes. The bag we take with us when we go out with the children isn't called a diaper bag, it's a "go bag."
I like some nicknames for things, but I don't like others. I know many people call pacifiers a "binky" or a "paci" but we've never used those names. I don't know where "binki" came from, possibly a brand name of a type of pacifier, but it's never stuck here.
For some reason, I started calling the pacifiers "delicious sucky devices" and that seems to be a common nickname. Now what sense does that make? It's not a shortening of the name, it's a longer way to say the same thing.
I don't understand our need to create alternate names, nicknames, pet names, for things, but we do it a lot in this house with babies, animals, people and things. Maybe it makes language seem more alive; maybe it adds fun and playfulness.
The Big Boy Update: Video reviews. Today we were reviewing some videos from the past several months. My son hasn't gained much weight in the past several months, but boy, it's obvious how the weight has changed distribution around his body when looking back. On Halloween he took his first steps. He was much shorter, and much rounder. He's really gotten a lot more trim looking and has clearly grown a lot in the last five months.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Fontanel Fright. Babies have an open area in the top of their skull and one in the back of their skull when they're born, named "fontanels." They are a little scary to touch because they mush right in to the brain. But they grow over. Today, in just the right light in her carseat, I saw my daughter's throbbing with her heartbeat. No cerebral edema, all was normal. But it's scary to be reminded just how close the brain is. I took a video of it it was so interesting looking.
Right-size Countdown: 12.5 pounds to go
It's always interesting to see the nicknames we come up with for things. For instance, the babies go to be in "night night" clothes. The bag we take with us when we go out with the children isn't called a diaper bag, it's a "go bag."
I like some nicknames for things, but I don't like others. I know many people call pacifiers a "binky" or a "paci" but we've never used those names. I don't know where "binki" came from, possibly a brand name of a type of pacifier, but it's never stuck here.
For some reason, I started calling the pacifiers "delicious sucky devices" and that seems to be a common nickname. Now what sense does that make? It's not a shortening of the name, it's a longer way to say the same thing.
I don't understand our need to create alternate names, nicknames, pet names, for things, but we do it a lot in this house with babies, animals, people and things. Maybe it makes language seem more alive; maybe it adds fun and playfulness.
The Big Boy Update: Video reviews. Today we were reviewing some videos from the past several months. My son hasn't gained much weight in the past several months, but boy, it's obvious how the weight has changed distribution around his body when looking back. On Halloween he took his first steps. He was much shorter, and much rounder. He's really gotten a lot more trim looking and has clearly grown a lot in the last five months.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Fontanel Fright. Babies have an open area in the top of their skull and one in the back of their skull when they're born, named "fontanels." They are a little scary to touch because they mush right in to the brain. But they grow over. Today, in just the right light in her carseat, I saw my daughter's throbbing with her heartbeat. No cerebral edema, all was normal. But it's scary to be reminded just how close the brain is. I took a video of it it was so interesting looking.
Right-size Countdown: 12.5 pounds to go
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Sausage Biscuit Shoulder Wrap
Never heard of one? Thinking you might want one? I suppose that all depends on your like or dislike of sausage biscuits.
My mother-in-law gave me a microwaveable, rice-filled, shoulder wrap thing a few years ago. When your neck, shoulders or upper back are bothering you, or even if you're just cold, you can pop it into the microwave for a few minutes and it comes out all nice and warm.
I love it. But I lost it in the move to a box in the attic for a while. My husband found it for me a week ago and I've been using it recently as my neck and back have been bothering me. But I forgot about the smell.
I'm sure it's suppose to smell like lavender or patchouli or vanilla or something nice. Instead, it smells like sausage biscuits. At some point there must have been a sausage biscuit microwaved that left some grease on the microwave floor. I must have then microwaved the shoulder wrap right shortly thereafter and the cloth soaked up the grease.
Now you'd think it would smell terrible some two years later, but if you like sausage biscuits, this is the essence of that smell. It's not rancid or off in any way. It makes you want to look around for who's eating a sausage biscuit in the room. It must be a pretty strong essence to have survived this long.
I think I'd buy a "breakfast candle" made of this scent because it just smells like southern home cooking to me. Now if only sausage biscuits were on my diet plan. Alas.
The Big Boy Update: Door. Door. He knows the word for door. He points at things and one of the big things on the walls are doors, so he gets "door" back to his pointing, questioning gibberish a lot. Today you can point to a door, ask him, "what's that?" and he'll say "doooour."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Rolling back over. Today she figured out how to get from her stomach back to her back. It looked deliberate, but I wasn't sure if it was an accident until she did it again a little bit later. She's doing very well holding her head up and pushing off with her hands. Soon she's going to be mobile.
Right-size Countdown: 11.9 pounds to go.
Never heard of one? Thinking you might want one? I suppose that all depends on your like or dislike of sausage biscuits.
My mother-in-law gave me a microwaveable, rice-filled, shoulder wrap thing a few years ago. When your neck, shoulders or upper back are bothering you, or even if you're just cold, you can pop it into the microwave for a few minutes and it comes out all nice and warm.
I love it. But I lost it in the move to a box in the attic for a while. My husband found it for me a week ago and I've been using it recently as my neck and back have been bothering me. But I forgot about the smell.
I'm sure it's suppose to smell like lavender or patchouli or vanilla or something nice. Instead, it smells like sausage biscuits. At some point there must have been a sausage biscuit microwaved that left some grease on the microwave floor. I must have then microwaved the shoulder wrap right shortly thereafter and the cloth soaked up the grease.
Now you'd think it would smell terrible some two years later, but if you like sausage biscuits, this is the essence of that smell. It's not rancid or off in any way. It makes you want to look around for who's eating a sausage biscuit in the room. It must be a pretty strong essence to have survived this long.
I think I'd buy a "breakfast candle" made of this scent because it just smells like southern home cooking to me. Now if only sausage biscuits were on my diet plan. Alas.
The Big Boy Update: Door. Door. He knows the word for door. He points at things and one of the big things on the walls are doors, so he gets "door" back to his pointing, questioning gibberish a lot. Today you can point to a door, ask him, "what's that?" and he'll say "doooour."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Rolling back over. Today she figured out how to get from her stomach back to her back. It looked deliberate, but I wasn't sure if it was an accident until she did it again a little bit later. She's doing very well holding her head up and pushing off with her hands. Soon she's going to be mobile.
Right-size Countdown: 11.9 pounds to go.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Under and Over the Comma
I like to use commas correctly. For years I thought commas weren't that necessary. It wasn't because I was better than commas, more that I didn't take a breath in my mind when I thought through or re-read what I was writing. Some years ago I looked up comma usage and realized I wasn't using them where they should be used in way too many situations. So I had to smarten up.
So now I try to use commas where appropriate. At this point, I'm not afraid to use a comma, but I worry I'm using them where they don't belong. There are definite rules for comma usage and I have a fairly good grasp on most, well, some of them. But if I want to be more serious about writing, I need to be on top of punctuation.
I like using semicolons. I had no idea how to use them until a few years ago when I read a nice summary with humorous examples that's helped me remember when I should and shouldn't use a semi-colon. One of the things I remember from that article was how it described the mental pause comparison between a comma (small pause,) semicolon (larger pause) and period (full stop.)
As I write this though, I have doubts about where I put some of the commas (inside the parenthesis or was it suppose to be outside?) and that last question mark that's in the middle of a sentence within a parenthesis. Do I add it and continue the sentence as though it wasn't terminated?
So many punctuation questions that I fear I'd better end this post and go read up on proper punctuation for the future.
The Big Boy Update: Learning No. Again. Still. As it turns out, "no" is harder to abide by when tired. In these cases, "no" may result in a tantrum which is usually followed by a nap once he's calmed down. He's very good at no in a lot of cases, but some things are just too tempting, like running down the hall on the second floor. Today he wanted to run down the hall, swerve by the stairs while you panic that he's going to try and head down them and fall to his death.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Started rice cereal today. She tasted it and liked it, but didn't know how to swallow. I added some to her bottle and she liked that so much she slept extra long after a more filling meal than usual.
Right-size Countdown: 11.7 pounds to go
I like to use commas correctly. For years I thought commas weren't that necessary. It wasn't because I was better than commas, more that I didn't take a breath in my mind when I thought through or re-read what I was writing. Some years ago I looked up comma usage and realized I wasn't using them where they should be used in way too many situations. So I had to smarten up.
So now I try to use commas where appropriate. At this point, I'm not afraid to use a comma, but I worry I'm using them where they don't belong. There are definite rules for comma usage and I have a fairly good grasp on most, well, some of them. But if I want to be more serious about writing, I need to be on top of punctuation.
I like using semicolons. I had no idea how to use them until a few years ago when I read a nice summary with humorous examples that's helped me remember when I should and shouldn't use a semi-colon. One of the things I remember from that article was how it described the mental pause comparison between a comma (small pause,) semicolon (larger pause) and period (full stop.)
As I write this though, I have doubts about where I put some of the commas (inside the parenthesis or was it suppose to be outside?) and that last question mark that's in the middle of a sentence within a parenthesis. Do I add it and continue the sentence as though it wasn't terminated?
So many punctuation questions that I fear I'd better end this post and go read up on proper punctuation for the future.
The Big Boy Update: Learning No. Again. Still. As it turns out, "no" is harder to abide by when tired. In these cases, "no" may result in a tantrum which is usually followed by a nap once he's calmed down. He's very good at no in a lot of cases, but some things are just too tempting, like running down the hall on the second floor. Today he wanted to run down the hall, swerve by the stairs while you panic that he's going to try and head down them and fall to his death.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Started rice cereal today. She tasted it and liked it, but didn't know how to swallow. I added some to her bottle and she liked that so much she slept extra long after a more filling meal than usual.
Right-size Countdown: 11.7 pounds to go
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Can You Go to Page Two?
Sometimes paper is better than electronic. Take catalogs, for example. But before I begin, it's frustrating to get so many that I never even look at. I recycle them all, but I would much rather not get them. That is, until it's getting close to holiday season. Then, I'd like a single copy of the catalog. Not one a week for three months, one is sufficient.
Where was I? Ah, off topic. Back to paper being better than electronic in some cases. When it comes to shopping, sometimes having a catalog you can start at page one and go to the end is a great way to look through merchandise possibilities. It's hard to do that on a web site. First, I may never go to your web site and second, once I'm there I have to pick a category and possibly narrow down what to find via a search criteria. There's a good chance I'll decide I don't need anything and move along to get something else done, like this blog entry.
But a catalog is perfectly suited to browsing through items, categories, things you wouldn't ever look up online, because you can start at the beginning and go to the end.
Newspapers are, apparently, like this too. My mother reads the paper every day. You see articles because they're next in the paper because they're on the next page. If you go to the newspaper site (or CNN or MSNBC or any other news site) you get the top stories and then you can branch out anywhere. You'll get the stories you want, but you might miss out on some good information because it's not in a sequential order.
I got to thinking about this recently when my mother and I were looking for a missing TV show. We knew the local paper had reported the time/channel change, but we couldn't find it. I went to the paper's web site and was entering all kinds of search criteria, but nothing was coming up. My mother said to me "Can you go to page two? It's on page two."
So, some forms of media are preferable in some circumstances. But it's largely what you prefer. I'm almost always a digital person, but printed media has its place for lots of things still.
The Big Boy Update: I got him one of those tunnel house things today. The contraption will fill a room, but collapses down into a tiny bag when you're done. It's little tube pieces and some central house sections that have holes, windows and even a tiny basketball hoop. It also came with some balls. He's having fun climbing through it and crushing the flimsy thing with his body today. He's been practicing saying "ball" and "eat" for words today too.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She's starting to be more regular in her eating. And by that I mean there's not as much work to get her through a bottle. She's also eating a little more per meal which is good because we need her eating a bit more before we start rice cereal in a week.
Right-size Countdown: 13.6 pounds (Backwards?! And I was so good yesterday. Bah.)
Sometimes paper is better than electronic. Take catalogs, for example. But before I begin, it's frustrating to get so many that I never even look at. I recycle them all, but I would much rather not get them. That is, until it's getting close to holiday season. Then, I'd like a single copy of the catalog. Not one a week for three months, one is sufficient.
Where was I? Ah, off topic. Back to paper being better than electronic in some cases. When it comes to shopping, sometimes having a catalog you can start at page one and go to the end is a great way to look through merchandise possibilities. It's hard to do that on a web site. First, I may never go to your web site and second, once I'm there I have to pick a category and possibly narrow down what to find via a search criteria. There's a good chance I'll decide I don't need anything and move along to get something else done, like this blog entry.
But a catalog is perfectly suited to browsing through items, categories, things you wouldn't ever look up online, because you can start at the beginning and go to the end.
Newspapers are, apparently, like this too. My mother reads the paper every day. You see articles because they're next in the paper because they're on the next page. If you go to the newspaper site (or CNN or MSNBC or any other news site) you get the top stories and then you can branch out anywhere. You'll get the stories you want, but you might miss out on some good information because it's not in a sequential order.
I got to thinking about this recently when my mother and I were looking for a missing TV show. We knew the local paper had reported the time/channel change, but we couldn't find it. I went to the paper's web site and was entering all kinds of search criteria, but nothing was coming up. My mother said to me "Can you go to page two? It's on page two."
So, some forms of media are preferable in some circumstances. But it's largely what you prefer. I'm almost always a digital person, but printed media has its place for lots of things still.
The Big Boy Update: I got him one of those tunnel house things today. The contraption will fill a room, but collapses down into a tiny bag when you're done. It's little tube pieces and some central house sections that have holes, windows and even a tiny basketball hoop. It also came with some balls. He's having fun climbing through it and crushing the flimsy thing with his body today. He's been practicing saying "ball" and "eat" for words today too.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She's starting to be more regular in her eating. And by that I mean there's not as much work to get her through a bottle. She's also eating a little more per meal which is good because we need her eating a bit more before we start rice cereal in a week.
Right-size Countdown: 13.6 pounds (Backwards?! And I was so good yesterday. Bah.)
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
What's That Bowel?
My son is trying to communicate. He says things that sound like words all the time, but mostly it's just coincidence. He's trying to communicate more than he has words in which to do so. We're working on understanding his pointing and babbling and we're guessing what he means or what he's asking.
It seems like he's pointing at things, mostly things in an up and on the ceiling direction, and making questioning sounds. We've started naming nouns in the direction he's pointing. I realized today that I was saying back to him, "what's that?" and then adding the noun, such as "What's that? That's a light. Light."
During his bath, it sounded like he was even saying, "what's that" when he'd point to things in the bathroom. He also seems to know the word "ball." Although, when he says it it sounds like "bowel." He's most definitely understanding much more than he can speak or communicate, but it looks like the months ahead are going to be interesting, not to mention funny to listen to.
The Big Boy Update: He's figuring out he can take off his shoes if he pulls on the Velcro. He's not been interested in taking shoes or socks off until recently. For the most part, it's okay. Sometimes we need him to keep his shoes or socks on so that he won't scratch his ankles raw.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She's still trying to get her hands into her mouth, and she's succeeding. But she's not regular at it, and she doesn't do it through the night because we keep mittens on her during the night. But she does need to be soothed sometimes and she's also not great at a pacifier either. Sometimes it takes a bit to get her to settle down as a result when she's tired.
Right-size Countdown: 13.1 pounds to go
My son is trying to communicate. He says things that sound like words all the time, but mostly it's just coincidence. He's trying to communicate more than he has words in which to do so. We're working on understanding his pointing and babbling and we're guessing what he means or what he's asking.
It seems like he's pointing at things, mostly things in an up and on the ceiling direction, and making questioning sounds. We've started naming nouns in the direction he's pointing. I realized today that I was saying back to him, "what's that?" and then adding the noun, such as "What's that? That's a light. Light."
During his bath, it sounded like he was even saying, "what's that" when he'd point to things in the bathroom. He also seems to know the word "ball." Although, when he says it it sounds like "bowel." He's most definitely understanding much more than he can speak or communicate, but it looks like the months ahead are going to be interesting, not to mention funny to listen to.
The Big Boy Update: He's figuring out he can take off his shoes if he pulls on the Velcro. He's not been interested in taking shoes or socks off until recently. For the most part, it's okay. Sometimes we need him to keep his shoes or socks on so that he won't scratch his ankles raw.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She's still trying to get her hands into her mouth, and she's succeeding. But she's not regular at it, and she doesn't do it through the night because we keep mittens on her during the night. But she does need to be soothed sometimes and she's also not great at a pacifier either. Sometimes it takes a bit to get her to settle down as a result when she's tired.
Right-size Countdown: 13.1 pounds to go
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Unpack It Now, Not Later
One of the organizational things I do, without fail, is to always unpack a thing when I bring it into the house, instead of doing it later. For example, baby food bottles come in four can packs. We would but six at a time. It's work up front, but if you unpack them when you put them up, you have a more organized pantry or cabinet and you don't have to fuss with getting into an item later, when you need it.
I do this with everything. I take the tags off clothes and put them on hangers, I take the wrapping diapers out of the box and put them on the shelf, I break down the cardboard from the new toy and put it in the recycle bin. Sometimes it seems like it takes longer to get everything in the house and put up from a shopping trip than it does to make the trip in the first place.
The benefit is everything is ready to go when you need it. I've found I'm more likely to do everything at once like this than bits at a time as I need an item. It also seems many food or kitchen items take up less space once unpacked than they do in their packaging.
The Big Boy Update: Ghost Balloon. It's been almost three months since he turned one and we still have one Mylar balloon that hasn't died yet. It's finally losing enough air to drop to the ground. Yesterday though it was in an almost perfectly buoyant state, It magically appeared upstairs from the basement and then floated up to the second floor. When it was in hot air, it would rise and when it found cool air it would sink. He had fun playing with it, hugging and squeezing it.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Not so tiny anymore. She's getting little leg fat rolls. She's still tiny in comparison to her brother, but she's twice as big as she was when she was born. It doesn't seem like she's much bigger when I hold her, but when I see someone else holding her, I realize how much bigger she is in their arms. The baby fat rolls are definitely cute. She's not gotten enough chub to merit the name "fatty" like my son did though.
Right-size countdown: 13 pounds to go
One of the organizational things I do, without fail, is to always unpack a thing when I bring it into the house, instead of doing it later. For example, baby food bottles come in four can packs. We would but six at a time. It's work up front, but if you unpack them when you put them up, you have a more organized pantry or cabinet and you don't have to fuss with getting into an item later, when you need it.
I do this with everything. I take the tags off clothes and put them on hangers, I take the wrapping diapers out of the box and put them on the shelf, I break down the cardboard from the new toy and put it in the recycle bin. Sometimes it seems like it takes longer to get everything in the house and put up from a shopping trip than it does to make the trip in the first place.
The benefit is everything is ready to go when you need it. I've found I'm more likely to do everything at once like this than bits at a time as I need an item. It also seems many food or kitchen items take up less space once unpacked than they do in their packaging.
The Big Boy Update: Ghost Balloon. It's been almost three months since he turned one and we still have one Mylar balloon that hasn't died yet. It's finally losing enough air to drop to the ground. Yesterday though it was in an almost perfectly buoyant state, It magically appeared upstairs from the basement and then floated up to the second floor. When it was in hot air, it would rise and when it found cool air it would sink. He had fun playing with it, hugging and squeezing it.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Not so tiny anymore. She's getting little leg fat rolls. She's still tiny in comparison to her brother, but she's twice as big as she was when she was born. It doesn't seem like she's much bigger when I hold her, but when I see someone else holding her, I realize how much bigger she is in their arms. The baby fat rolls are definitely cute. She's not gotten enough chub to merit the name "fatty" like my son did though.
Right-size countdown: 13 pounds to go
Monday, March 5, 2012
Just Because You Have Room, it Doesn't Mean You Want Stuff
I like stuff, don't get me wrong. I buy stuff all the time, stuff I want, stuff I don't want, stuff I want to eat (damn diet making me think about food again.) But just because we have room to store stuff, it doesn't mean we want people to give us stuff all the time.
Do you know someone who loves a bargain? Or maybe they know "high-quality." It might even be "unique" or "one of a kind." They love to get you things. Things you might not want just because it's a one-of-a-kind, high-quality bargain.
I know, I know, I said I wasn't going to complain here. And I do appreciate the gifts. Giving something to someone is a way to say how much you care about them or are thinking about them. So I always try to keep that in mind when I get another item I wasn't expecting.
Sometimes I wonder though, what if I lived in a one-room apartment and had wall to wall bookshelves and furniture. There was just no room for more stuff, instead of the nice attic we have that can easily store scores more Christmas decorations than we'd ever get around to putting out. Would we get gifts of as much stuff as we do now?
Just because we have the space, doesn't mean we want the stuff. My sister-in-law and I agree on this. Her post on Unwanted Gifts and a surprise present of some Christmas caroler dolls the other day got me thinking about this.
The Big Boy Update: Climbing down the stairs backwards. He wants to go down the stairs, and it's scary watching him do so. But if you stay two steps below him, he'll face forward, asses the situation, turn around and back down a stair or two and then repeat the process. So far, he's only crashed badly once. It's going to be a while before we trust him to go down alone though.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Crinkle Crinkle. She is trying to grasp things. She grasps her other hand more often than anything else, but she also likes the baby toys that have the crinkle sound. She is very alert after eating and likes to try and see everything around her as well as touch it.
Right-size Countdown: 13.7 pounds to go. Weigh-in week two and we're both doing well.
I like stuff, don't get me wrong. I buy stuff all the time, stuff I want, stuff I don't want, stuff I want to eat (damn diet making me think about food again.) But just because we have room to store stuff, it doesn't mean we want people to give us stuff all the time.
Do you know someone who loves a bargain? Or maybe they know "high-quality." It might even be "unique" or "one of a kind." They love to get you things. Things you might not want just because it's a one-of-a-kind, high-quality bargain.
I know, I know, I said I wasn't going to complain here. And I do appreciate the gifts. Giving something to someone is a way to say how much you care about them or are thinking about them. So I always try to keep that in mind when I get another item I wasn't expecting.
Sometimes I wonder though, what if I lived in a one-room apartment and had wall to wall bookshelves and furniture. There was just no room for more stuff, instead of the nice attic we have that can easily store scores more Christmas decorations than we'd ever get around to putting out. Would we get gifts of as much stuff as we do now?
Just because we have the space, doesn't mean we want the stuff. My sister-in-law and I agree on this. Her post on Unwanted Gifts and a surprise present of some Christmas caroler dolls the other day got me thinking about this.
The Big Boy Update: Climbing down the stairs backwards. He wants to go down the stairs, and it's scary watching him do so. But if you stay two steps below him, he'll face forward, asses the situation, turn around and back down a stair or two and then repeat the process. So far, he's only crashed badly once. It's going to be a while before we trust him to go down alone though.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Crinkle Crinkle. She is trying to grasp things. She grasps her other hand more often than anything else, but she also likes the baby toys that have the crinkle sound. She is very alert after eating and likes to try and see everything around her as well as touch it.
Right-size Countdown: 13.7 pounds to go. Weigh-in week two and we're both doing well.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
3500 Calories
There are 3500 calories in a pound of fat. I shouldn't have, but I looked it up. I knew that losing one pound per week was a reasonable way to lose weight. But it's always nice to think you can be an over-achiever and lose more than that. You think other people dieting aren't as serious as you are and surely you can lose weight faster. Dieting isn't fun, we all want it to be over, so losing faster will be better, right?
Now I understand why it's only a pound a week. First, in order to lose weight, you have to eat less calories than your body metabolizes each day. In my case, I probably only need 1800 calories a day to maintain my weight. That's 12,600 calories per week. To lose a pound of excess body fat, I'd have to cut that by 3500 calories each week. So to lose a pound per week I have to stick to 9100 total calories, or 1300 calories per day.
To lose two pounds each week, I'd have to cut my daily caloric intake to 800 calories, and that's not enough to be a healthy mom of two. So a pound a week looks to be the way it's going to be.
So, reality check... check. Looks like this diet, in order to be reasonable and something I can maintain after I stop dieting, is going to take a while longer than I'd like. The good news is, I'll reach the weight I was before I got pregnant with my son before I hit my final target weight and I have plenty of clothes I can fit into then. But it looks like it's going to be the beginning of summer before I make it all the way.
The Big Boy Update: Climbing, climbing, everywhere. When he wants to get into something or over something he lifts his leg up really high. He does this even if he has no chance of getting in or out of his target. It's starting to pay off though. For example, two nights ago he had a painful diaper rash and was suddenly terrified of the bath. Sheer willpower helped him climb out of the tub, twice. He managed to climb on and off the coffee table today and last night he climbed out of his pen. It looks like it's going to be hard to contain him soon. I am just glad he can't work door knobs yet.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My husband and I swapped "primary children" today. I don't think he realized just how much she smiles and laughs when you play with her. She is very adorable. So much so, you have to be careful not to distract her when she has a bottle because she'll stop eating, get distracted and smile at you if she thinks you're trying to communicate.
Right-size countdown: 14.2 pounds to go
There are 3500 calories in a pound of fat. I shouldn't have, but I looked it up. I knew that losing one pound per week was a reasonable way to lose weight. But it's always nice to think you can be an over-achiever and lose more than that. You think other people dieting aren't as serious as you are and surely you can lose weight faster. Dieting isn't fun, we all want it to be over, so losing faster will be better, right?
Now I understand why it's only a pound a week. First, in order to lose weight, you have to eat less calories than your body metabolizes each day. In my case, I probably only need 1800 calories a day to maintain my weight. That's 12,600 calories per week. To lose a pound of excess body fat, I'd have to cut that by 3500 calories each week. So to lose a pound per week I have to stick to 9100 total calories, or 1300 calories per day.
To lose two pounds each week, I'd have to cut my daily caloric intake to 800 calories, and that's not enough to be a healthy mom of two. So a pound a week looks to be the way it's going to be.
So, reality check... check. Looks like this diet, in order to be reasonable and something I can maintain after I stop dieting, is going to take a while longer than I'd like. The good news is, I'll reach the weight I was before I got pregnant with my son before I hit my final target weight and I have plenty of clothes I can fit into then. But it looks like it's going to be the beginning of summer before I make it all the way.
The Big Boy Update: Climbing, climbing, everywhere. When he wants to get into something or over something he lifts his leg up really high. He does this even if he has no chance of getting in or out of his target. It's starting to pay off though. For example, two nights ago he had a painful diaper rash and was suddenly terrified of the bath. Sheer willpower helped him climb out of the tub, twice. He managed to climb on and off the coffee table today and last night he climbed out of his pen. It looks like it's going to be hard to contain him soon. I am just glad he can't work door knobs yet.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My husband and I swapped "primary children" today. I don't think he realized just how much she smiles and laughs when you play with her. She is very adorable. So much so, you have to be careful not to distract her when she has a bottle because she'll stop eating, get distracted and smile at you if she thinks you're trying to communicate.
Right-size countdown: 14.2 pounds to go
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Crying is Tiring
Or so you hope. It is very uncomfortable to hear a baby cry and not move to do something to sooth the baby. It bothers you in a strange mental way that's hard to describe if you haven't experienced it before.
I've heard babies crying at restaurants all my life and it's never bothered me until I had my own child. I think if I did a lot of baby sitting I would have understood before, but not until you hear a baby crying and it's your responsibility to help the baby through it, do you really experience the keening urge to "just make it stop."
But crying can be useful. A baby who is over-tired and needs to go to sleep, a tantrum that has to work itself out, or a hungry baby that's not serious about eating dinner. In these cases, crying is not only tiring, but it produces a good result (napping, understanding no, or eating a full meal.)
So, while our children are good kids, sometimes they cry and sometimes we have to let them cry for a while, and that's okay. But crying is definitely tiring, it's tiring on the baby and it's tiring on the parents. It's why I love bedtime. Bedtime is quiet.
The Big Boy Update: Ministry of Silly Walks. My son is a member, or wants to be a member of the Ministry of Silly Walks when he grows up. He does the craziest high-stepping, trouncing, bouncing walking that makes us laugh on a daily basis. It's sporadic though, and hard to catch on video. We'll just have to tell him how amusing he was when he gets older.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Frozen foods. I'm done breastfeeding, so now she gets a supplement of breast milk that's thawed from my stockpile every day. I worry that the frozen milk isn't as good as the fresh version and I worry that she prefers formula in taste to it. I'm a mother, I'm suppose to worry. I think I get worried when it seems she's not interested in that particular bottle. I've done tests with two bottles at the same time comparing formula with milk. She just gets picky sometimes. I've come to the conclusion that she doesn't really care what's in the bottle.
Right-size Countdown: 14.3 pounds to go
Or so you hope. It is very uncomfortable to hear a baby cry and not move to do something to sooth the baby. It bothers you in a strange mental way that's hard to describe if you haven't experienced it before.
I've heard babies crying at restaurants all my life and it's never bothered me until I had my own child. I think if I did a lot of baby sitting I would have understood before, but not until you hear a baby crying and it's your responsibility to help the baby through it, do you really experience the keening urge to "just make it stop."
But crying can be useful. A baby who is over-tired and needs to go to sleep, a tantrum that has to work itself out, or a hungry baby that's not serious about eating dinner. In these cases, crying is not only tiring, but it produces a good result (napping, understanding no, or eating a full meal.)
So, while our children are good kids, sometimes they cry and sometimes we have to let them cry for a while, and that's okay. But crying is definitely tiring, it's tiring on the baby and it's tiring on the parents. It's why I love bedtime. Bedtime is quiet.
The Big Boy Update: Ministry of Silly Walks. My son is a member, or wants to be a member of the Ministry of Silly Walks when he grows up. He does the craziest high-stepping, trouncing, bouncing walking that makes us laugh on a daily basis. It's sporadic though, and hard to catch on video. We'll just have to tell him how amusing he was when he gets older.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Frozen foods. I'm done breastfeeding, so now she gets a supplement of breast milk that's thawed from my stockpile every day. I worry that the frozen milk isn't as good as the fresh version and I worry that she prefers formula in taste to it. I'm a mother, I'm suppose to worry. I think I get worried when it seems she's not interested in that particular bottle. I've done tests with two bottles at the same time comparing formula with milk. She just gets picky sometimes. I've come to the conclusion that she doesn't really care what's in the bottle.
Right-size Countdown: 14.3 pounds to go
Friday, March 2, 2012
Privacy Expectations and Information Sharing
We're in a new neighborhood that's largely empty. We have builders start homes from time to time, but they're usually pre-sales as this economy has made banks unwilling to loan money to builders for spec-houses.
Since there are so few of us, we try to keep in touch and look out for each other the best we can. Most of the time this is through emails to a list of emails that's gotten more out of date as time has gone on. My husband and I also realized we had no idea who's name went with which email and even who some of the new neighbors were.
I decided to build a spreadsheet and send it out to everyone asking if they'd like to be part of a neighborhood members list. I contacted the agent on site and he kindly helped me out with not only names and spellings of people I'd only talked to, but many missing emails as well.
I created a spreadsheet with basic information filled in (address, lot number, owners names and emails) and then added columns for additional things like phone numbers, children, etc. But I didn't want to fill in more than I should. Some people value their privacy. I wanted to make sure I didn't share information with anyone who didn't want it shared.
I included all of our information though. I asked for people to let me know what information they'd like to share, and I'd update the spreadsheet. I also said that if people wanted to be excluded, to please let me know. I hoped I handled the fine line of being friendly, and sharing information appropriately.
Aside from the emails, everything else is available in tax records. And without the emails, there isn't much communication going on unless you want to go old-school paper mail—and I didn't. So far, so good. I've had some good responses and one person asking if the file could be marked confidential or some such so that people know this isn't to be shared outside of the neighborhood members. Hopefully the rest of the responses will be as positive.
The Big Boy Update: Spooning. He's working on using utensils. We've let him have utensils before, and until recently it's been a novelty—a fun device that he plays with until he's ready to get down and eat by sticking his hand in the bowl. Now he seems interested in how you get the food on the spoon and get it into your mouth without dropping it all in your lap. He's been trying different spoons, including the one I had when I was a baby and so far, he's not starving.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The car stopped moving! She's great in the car, unless she's not. Most of the time she's fine but every now and then she's just ready to be there or to get out of the seat or she needs to fall asleep. When this happens, she's quiet as long as the car is moving. The minute you stop at a red light... WAAAAAH... Yeah, no fun. And red lights take twice as long when you have a crying baby. It's a fact.
Right-size Countdown: 13.8 pounds to go
We're in a new neighborhood that's largely empty. We have builders start homes from time to time, but they're usually pre-sales as this economy has made banks unwilling to loan money to builders for spec-houses.
Since there are so few of us, we try to keep in touch and look out for each other the best we can. Most of the time this is through emails to a list of emails that's gotten more out of date as time has gone on. My husband and I also realized we had no idea who's name went with which email and even who some of the new neighbors were.
I decided to build a spreadsheet and send it out to everyone asking if they'd like to be part of a neighborhood members list. I contacted the agent on site and he kindly helped me out with not only names and spellings of people I'd only talked to, but many missing emails as well.
I created a spreadsheet with basic information filled in (address, lot number, owners names and emails) and then added columns for additional things like phone numbers, children, etc. But I didn't want to fill in more than I should. Some people value their privacy. I wanted to make sure I didn't share information with anyone who didn't want it shared.
I included all of our information though. I asked for people to let me know what information they'd like to share, and I'd update the spreadsheet. I also said that if people wanted to be excluded, to please let me know. I hoped I handled the fine line of being friendly, and sharing information appropriately.
Aside from the emails, everything else is available in tax records. And without the emails, there isn't much communication going on unless you want to go old-school paper mail—and I didn't. So far, so good. I've had some good responses and one person asking if the file could be marked confidential or some such so that people know this isn't to be shared outside of the neighborhood members. Hopefully the rest of the responses will be as positive.
The Big Boy Update: Spooning. He's working on using utensils. We've let him have utensils before, and until recently it's been a novelty—a fun device that he plays with until he's ready to get down and eat by sticking his hand in the bowl. Now he seems interested in how you get the food on the spoon and get it into your mouth without dropping it all in your lap. He's been trying different spoons, including the one I had when I was a baby and so far, he's not starving.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The car stopped moving! She's great in the car, unless she's not. Most of the time she's fine but every now and then she's just ready to be there or to get out of the seat or she needs to fall asleep. When this happens, she's quiet as long as the car is moving. The minute you stop at a red light... WAAAAAH... Yeah, no fun. And red lights take twice as long when you have a crying baby. It's a fact.
Right-size Countdown: 13.8 pounds to go
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Gifts You Didn't Want But Love
Have you ever opened a gift and thought, "why would they send me this?" or "this isn't something I'd ever use." But you feel like you should give it a try, because someone who cared about you took the time to pick the gift out, buy it, wrap it and give it to you.
Then, you discover the item is something you really love, something you couldn't do without, something you're going to go on the internet and make sure you can get another one for when you run out of, or break the current one.
My Keurig coffee machine is one of those things. I really didn't want one, but my mother-in-law insisted we go to the store just after Christmas and get one because we were going to love it. I do like hot drinks, even in summer. I'm not a big coffee person, but it makes tea, cider, hot chocolate, as well as coffee for the people who like coffee, so I gave in and she got us one.
Now the cabinet below it is filled with the K-Cup options for beverages, the cabinet above has the mugs and that little corner of the kitchen is dedicated to the Keurig. I even love the little blue lights in it that tells me it's ready to make me a cup of something hot and tasty.
Recently, we've gotten lots of baby clothes I thought I'd never like, only to find out I'm wrong. Babies look cute in everything and it's fun to try new things on them. For instance, I would have never bought my daughter an outfit with bell bottoms. She can't even sit up, much less stand in them and look sassy. But oh how cute she looks in them.
I don't always succeed, but I try to give gifts a chance. I don't want to miss out on something I can't do without.
The Big Boy Update: He's starting to pronounce more words, or at least trying to. We're not surprised that most of his word attempts relate to food. He's just over one and he's already becoming a "foody" too. He likes to create his own taste sensations too, such as croutons dipped in salad dressing, then dipped in yogurt. Or fajita chicken dipped in apple sauce. He's a regular gourmand.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She is growing hair, I swear. Well, it looks like it to me. I look at her head a lot because she's laying in my lap eating for good bits of time each day and it looks to me like her hair is getting long enough to stand up and move around. It was about this time when her brother starting growing more hair it seems too. We'll find out if it's going to stay white in a few months I suppose.
Right-size Countdown: 14.2 pounds
Have you ever opened a gift and thought, "why would they send me this?" or "this isn't something I'd ever use." But you feel like you should give it a try, because someone who cared about you took the time to pick the gift out, buy it, wrap it and give it to you.
Then, you discover the item is something you really love, something you couldn't do without, something you're going to go on the internet and make sure you can get another one for when you run out of, or break the current one.
My Keurig coffee machine is one of those things. I really didn't want one, but my mother-in-law insisted we go to the store just after Christmas and get one because we were going to love it. I do like hot drinks, even in summer. I'm not a big coffee person, but it makes tea, cider, hot chocolate, as well as coffee for the people who like coffee, so I gave in and she got us one.
Now the cabinet below it is filled with the K-Cup options for beverages, the cabinet above has the mugs and that little corner of the kitchen is dedicated to the Keurig. I even love the little blue lights in it that tells me it's ready to make me a cup of something hot and tasty.
Recently, we've gotten lots of baby clothes I thought I'd never like, only to find out I'm wrong. Babies look cute in everything and it's fun to try new things on them. For instance, I would have never bought my daughter an outfit with bell bottoms. She can't even sit up, much less stand in them and look sassy. But oh how cute she looks in them.
I don't always succeed, but I try to give gifts a chance. I don't want to miss out on something I can't do without.
The Big Boy Update: He's starting to pronounce more words, or at least trying to. We're not surprised that most of his word attempts relate to food. He's just over one and he's already becoming a "foody" too. He likes to create his own taste sensations too, such as croutons dipped in salad dressing, then dipped in yogurt. Or fajita chicken dipped in apple sauce. He's a regular gourmand.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She is growing hair, I swear. Well, it looks like it to me. I look at her head a lot because she's laying in my lap eating for good bits of time each day and it looks to me like her hair is getting long enough to stand up and move around. It was about this time when her brother starting growing more hair it seems too. We'll find out if it's going to stay white in a few months I suppose.
Right-size Countdown: 14.2 pounds
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)