I've never had to try to go to sleep. For the most part, I lie down and go right to sleep. Sure, there have been times when I'm sick or hyped up about something, but in general, I don't have a problem just falling to sleep.
Many years ago I had a friend who said he had had such a hard time going to sleep the night before. He said he was, "thinking of nothing" for so long but he still couldn't fall asleep. Thinking of nothing? I'd never heard of that. I asked him what he meant. He said he cleared his mind and just thought of nothing until he fell asleep.
I didn't believe him. How can you think of nothing? It's not possible. As soon as you clear out the current thoughts, your mind throws in something else to think about. He said it was possible. I still don't know. Since that time, almost twenty years ago, I don't believe I've ever been able to, "think of nothing."
The Big Boy Update: Family picture album. My husband made a family picture album for my son yesterday. It's got pictures of the two children, the dog and all four grandparents for a start. We're seeing if he knows who they are, and if he can name them. "doggiedoggie" is the one he gets correct without fail. The rest of us are a work in progress with sporadic results.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Toothy grin. Her two lower front teeth are now becoming more visible when she smiles, which is all the time, and non-stop. I would seriously write about how adorable, cute, charming and endearing she is here every day, but even I'd get sick of it. Still, can I just say...super cute.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
CRANKY
What is up with me? I am just cranky today. I'm not overtly cranky, but I feel like I'm not polite and I'm overly critical of everything—especially when it's people who are trying to help me.
I dislike me when I'm like that. I get angry at myself. I vow to be better. I do things like this daily because, hell, if you don't keep trying to improve yourself, you might as well give up on life. Okay, that's harsh, but I do believe it's important to never stop growing personally.
Back to the crank. For some reason it's cranked up today. I feel like my hunger level is cranked up, my food consumption is cranked up and therefore my feeling of not successfully maintaining my weight is cranked up. Not to mention that I just feel cranky.
How will I combat this? By never giving up and not letting the day be a full waste. I'm going running with a friend shortly and hopefully will have a better outlook at that point. My mother is here and her day is going worse. Her car battery is completely dead and she has to have her car towed. Don't you hate when days go like that? It sounds like a tow truck is on the way so maybe her day will be better soon.
The kids are a good/bad thing when your day isn't going well. The cute, funny and sweet things they do help, but the crying and throwing and not napping makes it ever so much worse.
The Big Boy Update: Honk honk, mash smash. Buttons. He loves buttons. Today we were moving cars around in the driveway—yes, we are just that exciting some days—and he wanted to get into the cars. He tried to turn the wheels, mash the buttons and even turned off one of the cars at one point. I kept my foot on the brake the whole time, just in case, you know.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Today is a day of spit up. I'm not sure why, but she's been spitting up a lot. She's making sure we go through the full rotation of bibs. She's even tried out a few of her brother's.
I dislike me when I'm like that. I get angry at myself. I vow to be better. I do things like this daily because, hell, if you don't keep trying to improve yourself, you might as well give up on life. Okay, that's harsh, but I do believe it's important to never stop growing personally.
Back to the crank. For some reason it's cranked up today. I feel like my hunger level is cranked up, my food consumption is cranked up and therefore my feeling of not successfully maintaining my weight is cranked up. Not to mention that I just feel cranky.
How will I combat this? By never giving up and not letting the day be a full waste. I'm going running with a friend shortly and hopefully will have a better outlook at that point. My mother is here and her day is going worse. Her car battery is completely dead and she has to have her car towed. Don't you hate when days go like that? It sounds like a tow truck is on the way so maybe her day will be better soon.
The kids are a good/bad thing when your day isn't going well. The cute, funny and sweet things they do help, but the crying and throwing and not napping makes it ever so much worse.
The Big Boy Update: Honk honk, mash smash. Buttons. He loves buttons. Today we were moving cars around in the driveway—yes, we are just that exciting some days—and he wanted to get into the cars. He tried to turn the wheels, mash the buttons and even turned off one of the cars at one point. I kept my foot on the brake the whole time, just in case, you know.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Today is a day of spit up. I'm not sure why, but she's been spitting up a lot. She's making sure we go through the full rotation of bibs. She's even tried out a few of her brother's.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
The Jolly Rancher Syndrome
When I was a child I loved Jolly Rancher candies. I still do. But I know they're a candy with a price. They come in large bags of little individually-wrapped candies. The sour green apple is like sour heaven in your mouth,.
They taste so good, when you're done with one you start on another one. Twelve candies later you realize you need to stop eating them. A short while later, you realize you can't. You can't, because there's a taste in your mouth that says the only thing that will make the bad leftover flavor go away is more Jolly Rancher.
It's a candy come-down. It's a post-consumption anti-flavor that sticks around and makes you both want more while causing you to reconsider having any the next time.
There are other foods that exhibit this same after-effect, like, funyons, spicy salsa and for me, anything too garlicy. Some foods at this point I just avoid all together due to their persistent, hard to get rid of aftertaste.
The Big Boy Update: The Age of Thrilled. He's just so thrilled about everything. Everything is exciting; everything is fun. If they could bottle him up, he would be a great anti-depressant.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Navigating the iPad. I had her on the floor while I folded laundry. She was interested in what was on the iPad as it was a PBS kids show. I propped it up beside her. She pressed her foot and hand against it and changed what was happening with what seemed to be some sort of deliberateness for the next fifteen minutes. Unlike her brother, who is obsessed with the exit button, she never left the app. He can't manage to stay in an app longer than thirty seconds because he's button-obsessed.
They taste so good, when you're done with one you start on another one. Twelve candies later you realize you need to stop eating them. A short while later, you realize you can't. You can't, because there's a taste in your mouth that says the only thing that will make the bad leftover flavor go away is more Jolly Rancher.
It's a candy come-down. It's a post-consumption anti-flavor that sticks around and makes you both want more while causing you to reconsider having any the next time.
There are other foods that exhibit this same after-effect, like, funyons, spicy salsa and for me, anything too garlicy. Some foods at this point I just avoid all together due to their persistent, hard to get rid of aftertaste.
The Big Boy Update: The Age of Thrilled. He's just so thrilled about everything. Everything is exciting; everything is fun. If they could bottle him up, he would be a great anti-depressant.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Navigating the iPad. I had her on the floor while I folded laundry. She was interested in what was on the iPad as it was a PBS kids show. I propped it up beside her. She pressed her foot and hand against it and changed what was happening with what seemed to be some sort of deliberateness for the next fifteen minutes. Unlike her brother, who is obsessed with the exit button, she never left the app. He can't manage to stay in an app longer than thirty seconds because he's button-obsessed.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Want To Buy: Unscroll
My iPad has a feature I am very fond of. If you're scrolled down in an email, or a web page or document, you can click at the top of the screen and it will automatically scroll you all the way back to the top.
There's no PC equivalent. I'm stuck pressing page up multiple times in some applications, having to find and use the scroll bar in other applications and trying the mouse wheel all over the place to see if it will send me back to the top.
It's such a nice, consistent feature. I miss it when I'm working on the computer. I love my computer, my big monitor, my extra quiet keyboard and the speed with which I can do work in multiple applications at the same time, but Apple's elegant interface solutions still make me miss my iPad, even when I'm at the PC.
The Big Boy Update: He's almost eighteen months now and the things I could write here would make up enough content to merit its own blog. He is very interested in showing his sister how things work. He brings her toys, shoves them in her face and tries to demonstrate how to play with them. If she's unhappy he brings her a pacifier and tries to shove it in her mouth, sometimes successfully. He sits with her and sometimes holds her hand. Yesterday he did a pacifier swap with her. I don't know if he was upgrading his or hers, most likely his. He decided the laundry needed to be done so he drug the laundry basket across the house. It ended up near his high chair, but it's a start. And best of all, he discovered rain yesterday. He was on the deck and it started to rain heavily, suddenly. We came in but he stood in the door and it landed on him. He pointed up and then patted his head. We discussed rain. Then I sent him out on the porch in his diaper and let him run around excited. He'd go out into the rain, then squeal and run back under. Eighteen months is a fun age.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: When she's tired and you put her in her crib, the big tell she has that she's ready to nap or sleep is when she lifts both her legs straight up and falls over on her side. When that happens, she's going to be asleep in a minute or less.
There's no PC equivalent. I'm stuck pressing page up multiple times in some applications, having to find and use the scroll bar in other applications and trying the mouse wheel all over the place to see if it will send me back to the top.
It's such a nice, consistent feature. I miss it when I'm working on the computer. I love my computer, my big monitor, my extra quiet keyboard and the speed with which I can do work in multiple applications at the same time, but Apple's elegant interface solutions still make me miss my iPad, even when I'm at the PC.
The Big Boy Update: He's almost eighteen months now and the things I could write here would make up enough content to merit its own blog. He is very interested in showing his sister how things work. He brings her toys, shoves them in her face and tries to demonstrate how to play with them. If she's unhappy he brings her a pacifier and tries to shove it in her mouth, sometimes successfully. He sits with her and sometimes holds her hand. Yesterday he did a pacifier swap with her. I don't know if he was upgrading his or hers, most likely his. He decided the laundry needed to be done so he drug the laundry basket across the house. It ended up near his high chair, but it's a start. And best of all, he discovered rain yesterday. He was on the deck and it started to rain heavily, suddenly. We came in but he stood in the door and it landed on him. He pointed up and then patted his head. We discussed rain. Then I sent him out on the porch in his diaper and let him run around excited. He'd go out into the rain, then squeal and run back under. Eighteen months is a fun age.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: When she's tired and you put her in her crib, the big tell she has that she's ready to nap or sleep is when she lifts both her legs straight up and falls over on her side. When that happens, she's going to be asleep in a minute or less.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Mindful Eating
A while back, I had a friend that invited me to a, "Mindful Eating" presentation at a local Whole Foods market. I had no idea what mindful eating was. I guessed it was minding that you don't eat too much fatty foods, or that processed sugars are bad for you or that you need more vegetables in your diet.
It wasn't that at all. It was a valuable, and free, hour at the grocery store. The presenter told us to go get our food from the buffet or anything else you wanted. It didn't matter what or how much you got, just go and get your meal.
When we got back she said, "We are now going to eat a meal in silence. We're going to focus on the food and be mindful of what we're eating." Huh?
But it made sense. She explained that we have put such emphasis on food in our society that we can make food more important than it should be. We can agonize over what we are or aren't eating. We can eat food so quickly that we don't even think about what we're eating until we've eaten far more than we should have.
So we sat and ate. We thought about every mouthful. She explained that it is common to have the next bite of food prepared before you've eaten the current bite of food. When that happens, we eat more quickly so that we can get to the next bite.
I ate. I thought about my food. I had one of the best meals in a long time because I wasn't worried about how much or what I was eating. I just enjoyed the food. And I believe I ate a lot less than I would have normally because I ate slowly and thought about it as I was eating it.
Most surprisingly of all, was the benefit no conversation had on the meal. I talk. A lot. Sort of non-stop. But I couldn't look at my neighbor and say how terribly delicious my pineapple basil ice cream was. I had to turn all the enjoyment in and focus on it myself.
I don't usually remember to mindfully eat, but sometimes something reminds me and I remember to enjoy what I'm eating and not hurry through it. Right now, lunch is on the way home with my husband. A brie and spinach wrap that is just delightful. I'm going to enjoy the whole sandwich slowly. That is if the children stay asleep...
The Big Boy Update: He knows. He knows what the baby Go Bag looks like. He knows if I put it by the garage door, I'm getting ready to take him somewhere. He gets excited and runs to the garage. Did I mention there is one door in the whole house he can open? The garage door has a pull-down handle on it and he will head right on out in preparation for departure. Then he gets distracted by a ball or a broom. But he knows.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: How in the world? She was awake from her nap yesterday and I went to get he. As I approached her bed her mobile was on. It shouldn't have been on. It plays for a short while and then turns off. She was on her stomach and she can reach up. Somehow she managed to reach high up enough and hit the button. Impressive for a six-month-old.
It wasn't that at all. It was a valuable, and free, hour at the grocery store. The presenter told us to go get our food from the buffet or anything else you wanted. It didn't matter what or how much you got, just go and get your meal.
When we got back she said, "We are now going to eat a meal in silence. We're going to focus on the food and be mindful of what we're eating." Huh?
But it made sense. She explained that we have put such emphasis on food in our society that we can make food more important than it should be. We can agonize over what we are or aren't eating. We can eat food so quickly that we don't even think about what we're eating until we've eaten far more than we should have.
So we sat and ate. We thought about every mouthful. She explained that it is common to have the next bite of food prepared before you've eaten the current bite of food. When that happens, we eat more quickly so that we can get to the next bite.
I ate. I thought about my food. I had one of the best meals in a long time because I wasn't worried about how much or what I was eating. I just enjoyed the food. And I believe I ate a lot less than I would have normally because I ate slowly and thought about it as I was eating it.
Most surprisingly of all, was the benefit no conversation had on the meal. I talk. A lot. Sort of non-stop. But I couldn't look at my neighbor and say how terribly delicious my pineapple basil ice cream was. I had to turn all the enjoyment in and focus on it myself.
I don't usually remember to mindfully eat, but sometimes something reminds me and I remember to enjoy what I'm eating and not hurry through it. Right now, lunch is on the way home with my husband. A brie and spinach wrap that is just delightful. I'm going to enjoy the whole sandwich slowly. That is if the children stay asleep...
The Big Boy Update: He knows. He knows what the baby Go Bag looks like. He knows if I put it by the garage door, I'm getting ready to take him somewhere. He gets excited and runs to the garage. Did I mention there is one door in the whole house he can open? The garage door has a pull-down handle on it and he will head right on out in preparation for departure. Then he gets distracted by a ball or a broom. But he knows.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: How in the world? She was awake from her nap yesterday and I went to get he. As I approached her bed her mobile was on. It shouldn't have been on. It plays for a short while and then turns off. She was on her stomach and she can reach up. Somehow she managed to reach high up enough and hit the button. Impressive for a six-month-old.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Now I Remember...
...that drinking alcohol can be painful. In the head. In the morning. It also settled into the, "you feel yucky" center of my brain and stayed around for a good part of the morning.
We had a party last night. It's been a long time since I drank much alcohol. Two babies back to back and then a diet that left no room for alcohol-based calories. Since I'd met my goal, I thought it would be nice to have a drink or two.
I think, all things considered, I'd rather eat something delicious than drink alcohol for a while. Remind me to remind myself of that the next time I'm thinking of having a drink.
The Big Boy Update: Uh oh, uh oh all day long. He likes to say, "uh oh" a lot. Even if he's just intentionally thrown a piece of food off the tray directly at you. It's got a broad meaning to him. Lots of times he says, "uh oh," looks at you and turns his palms up and out like a baby-version of a shoulder shrug.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She played with a large wooden toy that had lots of wooden moving components for a good while today. She was sitting up in front of it and had the best time reaching and touching and moving the pieces that were close enough for her to reach. She is sitting up very well now. She does fall down, but that's commonly because her brother decided he wanted to hug or push or pull her.
We had a party last night. It's been a long time since I drank much alcohol. Two babies back to back and then a diet that left no room for alcohol-based calories. Since I'd met my goal, I thought it would be nice to have a drink or two.
I think, all things considered, I'd rather eat something delicious than drink alcohol for a while. Remind me to remind myself of that the next time I'm thinking of having a drink.
The Big Boy Update: Uh oh, uh oh all day long. He likes to say, "uh oh" a lot. Even if he's just intentionally thrown a piece of food off the tray directly at you. It's got a broad meaning to him. Lots of times he says, "uh oh," looks at you and turns his palms up and out like a baby-version of a shoulder shrug.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She played with a large wooden toy that had lots of wooden moving components for a good while today. She was sitting up in front of it and had the best time reaching and touching and moving the pieces that were close enough for her to reach. She is sitting up very well now. She does fall down, but that's commonly because her brother decided he wanted to hug or push or pull her.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Sibling Interactions
I'm an only child. It was not by choice. I begged my parents for a brother or sister. They knew better. More to the point they said no. Was it because I was perfect and they knew a second child could only be a disappointment after me? Were they horrified at having at the prospect that the second child would turn out to be worse than I was? We may never know. They stayed firm, ignoring my pleas for a sibling so I grew up knowing nothing of siblings, but having all the benefits of being an only child. It was a good childhood.
As a result though, when I see my children interact with each other it's sometimes funny, usually interesting and frequently surprising.
This morning my son (seventeen months) brought over a xylophone to my daughter (six months) and showed her how you take the mallet and bang on it. Then he handed the mallet to her. She took it and waved it around. He's brought her things before, but never showed how to use them.
He also likes to sit on her, hug her aggressively, drag her around, hold her hand and be close to her. He'll probably start repeating, "careful" and "gentle" to us as he hears them all day long.
Not only is she tolerant of him doing all sorts of things to her, she's interested in him. She watches what he's doing and he's interested in where she is and what she's playing with. He even understands that she's learning (I suspect) because just before nap time she reached out, grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and pulled him to her. He calmly let her examine the hair in what looked like an uncomfortable position and when she let go he looked back at her. No fuss.
The Big Boy Update: Sticky paws. Everywhere. And yet, invisible. But when he's changed, there's a mirror above the changing table. He likes to look at himself in the mirror and babble and put his hands all over the mirror. It is frightening how much goo gets on the mirror. Need more hand washing or a more tidy baby.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Bouncing. She's sitting up better each day. She's starting to do the little bounce thing where she raises her arms and bounces a little bit when she swings them down. Some babies can move forward with a bounce like this. Just now, she's trying to get to a toy just out of her reach. I don't know if she's going to make it but she's trying something fierce.
As a result though, when I see my children interact with each other it's sometimes funny, usually interesting and frequently surprising.
This morning my son (seventeen months) brought over a xylophone to my daughter (six months) and showed her how you take the mallet and bang on it. Then he handed the mallet to her. She took it and waved it around. He's brought her things before, but never showed how to use them.
He also likes to sit on her, hug her aggressively, drag her around, hold her hand and be close to her. He'll probably start repeating, "careful" and "gentle" to us as he hears them all day long.
Not only is she tolerant of him doing all sorts of things to her, she's interested in him. She watches what he's doing and he's interested in where she is and what she's playing with. He even understands that she's learning (I suspect) because just before nap time she reached out, grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and pulled him to her. He calmly let her examine the hair in what looked like an uncomfortable position and when she let go he looked back at her. No fuss.
The Big Boy Update: Sticky paws. Everywhere. And yet, invisible. But when he's changed, there's a mirror above the changing table. He likes to look at himself in the mirror and babble and put his hands all over the mirror. It is frightening how much goo gets on the mirror. Need more hand washing or a more tidy baby.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Bouncing. She's sitting up better each day. She's starting to do the little bounce thing where she raises her arms and bounces a little bit when she swings them down. Some babies can move forward with a bounce like this. Just now, she's trying to get to a toy just out of her reach. I don't know if she's going to make it but she's trying something fierce.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
The #&*! Hits the Floor
It was bound to happen eventually. Any time there's a naked child, even for the brief time they're transported from the changing table to the tub, I find myself holding my breath that that's not when they just have to go.
Today, my son had gotten wet in the pool on the deck, which turned into time for his daily bath. His eczema goes in waves. The big wave (I hope daily) is that it's baby eczema and not life eczema. He's had a bad few days so I wanted to get him fully washed, put hydrocortisone on him, then put moisturizer on top of that, all over him, so he wouldn't be so itchy.
So, one drenched diaper from the wader pool that got left out on the deck. One bath being run. One drawer of bath toys open. One naked baby who delights in throwing bath toys into the tub while it fills, and one tiny baby left on the deck that needed to be brought inside while the tub was run.
I say to my son, "no pooping while I go get your sister." Pft, he's constipated, he's standing at the tub inthe bathroom, there isn't a chance...
Age does not guarantee wisdom, but it does provide opportunities to experience more of life's fun little events.
Coming back to the bedroom he's sitting on the carpet. And there is something brown beside him. NOOOOOO! ARRUGH. Deposit tiny baby on the floor, pick up big boy and investigate how messy he is. Not as bad as it could have been. At this point, I am just thrilled he was constipated from a damage control perspective. Clean him up, put him in the tub, give a pacifier to the tiny one and then clean up the poo. Eww.
My mother-in-law has a carpet cleaning machine. She's offered to let us borrow it many times. Note to self: take her up on her offer.
The Big Boy Update: Mirror's Edge. We have a full-length mirror in our closet. My son has loved it since before he could stand. Today I saw him looking at it, then stepping to the side and looking beyond it again and again. Was he figuring out it was only a reflection and discovering the reflection ends at the edge of the mirror?
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Stand me up, please. She likes to have you hold her hands and stand up and practice balancing. I remember this phase with my son. When you want to sit them down, they don't want to bend at the waist. You have to push them into a sitting position because they want to stand. And stand. And stand.
Today, my son had gotten wet in the pool on the deck, which turned into time for his daily bath. His eczema goes in waves. The big wave (I hope daily) is that it's baby eczema and not life eczema. He's had a bad few days so I wanted to get him fully washed, put hydrocortisone on him, then put moisturizer on top of that, all over him, so he wouldn't be so itchy.
So, one drenched diaper from the wader pool that got left out on the deck. One bath being run. One drawer of bath toys open. One naked baby who delights in throwing bath toys into the tub while it fills, and one tiny baby left on the deck that needed to be brought inside while the tub was run.
I say to my son, "no pooping while I go get your sister." Pft, he's constipated, he's standing at the tub inthe bathroom, there isn't a chance...
Age does not guarantee wisdom, but it does provide opportunities to experience more of life's fun little events.
Coming back to the bedroom he's sitting on the carpet. And there is something brown beside him. NOOOOOO! ARRUGH. Deposit tiny baby on the floor, pick up big boy and investigate how messy he is. Not as bad as it could have been. At this point, I am just thrilled he was constipated from a damage control perspective. Clean him up, put him in the tub, give a pacifier to the tiny one and then clean up the poo. Eww.
My mother-in-law has a carpet cleaning machine. She's offered to let us borrow it many times. Note to self: take her up on her offer.
The Big Boy Update: Mirror's Edge. We have a full-length mirror in our closet. My son has loved it since before he could stand. Today I saw him looking at it, then stepping to the side and looking beyond it again and again. Was he figuring out it was only a reflection and discovering the reflection ends at the edge of the mirror?
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Stand me up, please. She likes to have you hold her hands and stand up and practice balancing. I remember this phase with my son. When you want to sit them down, they don't want to bend at the waist. You have to push them into a sitting position because they want to stand. And stand. And stand.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
It's Just Not Funny
I've come to realize I'm not a funny writer. Maybe I could develop a sense of humor in my writing, but it doesn't seem to be my natural style.
I realized this when I was helping a friend make some jewelry the other day and this blog came up. She didn't know I had a blog. She said she reads only two blogs regularly, and one she reads because the writer is so very funny. It's no one she knows personally, it's the wife of a musician her husband and she like. But she regularly reads her blog because it's both entertaining and funny to read.
So that got me thinking. I seem to have a more conversational style. Conversational, interspersed with typos. I've been too pressed for time to even proofread what I've been writing lately. But that doesn't mean I won't strive for humor ever. Gonna have to work on this one.
The Big Boy Update: Just one wail. There was only one wailing session last night. It went on for a bit, and may have gone on longer than I realized because I had gotten little sleep the night before and was tired from exercising and being up late. But he stopped wailing. Maybe he heard us talking and realized we weren't going to cater to his whim. He is understanding more speech than I realize. Could be time to start spelling!
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Reason. When she cries, it's always for a reason. She is a very polite baby. There's the, "I'm bored" cry and there's the, "I'm poopsie" cry and there's the, "MILK NOW!" cry and even a, "I am so tired I'm going to cry loudly until you put me to nap" cry. She is just a considerate baby. Must take after her father.
I realized this when I was helping a friend make some jewelry the other day and this blog came up. She didn't know I had a blog. She said she reads only two blogs regularly, and one she reads because the writer is so very funny. It's no one she knows personally, it's the wife of a musician her husband and she like. But she regularly reads her blog because it's both entertaining and funny to read.
So that got me thinking. I seem to have a more conversational style. Conversational, interspersed with typos. I've been too pressed for time to even proofread what I've been writing lately. But that doesn't mean I won't strive for humor ever. Gonna have to work on this one.
The Big Boy Update: Just one wail. There was only one wailing session last night. It went on for a bit, and may have gone on longer than I realized because I had gotten little sleep the night before and was tired from exercising and being up late. But he stopped wailing. Maybe he heard us talking and realized we weren't going to cater to his whim. He is understanding more speech than I realize. Could be time to start spelling!
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Reason. When she cries, it's always for a reason. She is a very polite baby. There's the, "I'm bored" cry and there's the, "I'm poopsie" cry and there's the, "MILK NOW!" cry and even a, "I am so tired I'm going to cry loudly until you put me to nap" cry. She is just a considerate baby. Must take after her father.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Battle of Wills or Ills?
You've heard the horror stories from other parents. They've told you how they made the mistake of doing, or not doing X and now they're stuck with a child who won't sleep well, doesn't eat cheese, has to have the one special blanket to sleep, etc.
We have tried and continue to try and never make a bad habit develop with the children. We fail, regularly. It only takes a few days to set a precedence and the babies know it. It takes longer to break the habit if you didn't realize it early on. But the battle continues.
Lately, we don't know if my son is "wailing" or making the ambulance siren sound in the middle of the night because he wants to have someone come up and put the blanket on him, or if there is really something wrong, like a nightmare. We've done it for a while now; it doesn't take long and he doesn't do it all night. But there aren't many nights he doesn't need at least one settling.
When we moved my daughter in with him last month, we would hurry upstairs at the first sound of crying so he wouldn't wake her up. Did we reinforce something? He looks asleep almost every time we go up to settle him, but does he register that we've arrived (or more to the point, that we failed to arrive.)
It turns out my daughter can sleep through fog horns, thunder storms, marching bands going down the hall and yes, my son wailing for twenty minutes. We tested him last night. We had resolve. He escalated to the point that we wondered if something was wrong. Was he sick? Had he messed up his pants? Was his leg wedged in the bed?
No. He was fine. Until he sensed you were going back to bed. Or, so it seemed. And he may have had something wrong. But we saw no itching. He had no fever. He had had a good amount of milk shortly before bed so he should have been full. And yet nothing seemed to soothe him.
Until he was taken out of the crib, something we rarely, if ever do. That's one thing we've done well with both babies. When I did it he tried to lay on me, but I'm not that comfortable and he's never gone to sleep in people's arms (another intentional decision) so I put him back to bed.
My husband got him out and he wanted to get out of his arms...and he brought over a book...at two-thirty in the morning. I came upstairs to find the happiest, most delighted, giggling, infuriating, baby. He was so cute because he was thrilled to be out of the bed. All worries gone. But was he hungry? We took him downstairs and he literally bounced into the pantry and asked for puffs. He giggled and smiled and did more dancing because he was getting food in the middle of the night. He didn't want much and he wasn't thirsty.
We put him back to bed, only to have the wailing resume. So tonight, we will be at it again, trying to let him work it out for himself and trying to sleep downstairs with a siren just above our heads.
The Big Boy Update: Loves shoes. Your shoes, his shoes, anyone's shoes. He wants to put on his shoes (by asking you to put them on.) He will bring you shoes and try and put your foot into the shoe. He will try to put your shoes on and if you help him, he will try to clomp around the house.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Spikey hair. Her hair is growing and it's still white. She has a little spikey head now. Soon it's going to start looking like little girl hair and not old man head I hope.
We have tried and continue to try and never make a bad habit develop with the children. We fail, regularly. It only takes a few days to set a precedence and the babies know it. It takes longer to break the habit if you didn't realize it early on. But the battle continues.
Lately, we don't know if my son is "wailing" or making the ambulance siren sound in the middle of the night because he wants to have someone come up and put the blanket on him, or if there is really something wrong, like a nightmare. We've done it for a while now; it doesn't take long and he doesn't do it all night. But there aren't many nights he doesn't need at least one settling.
When we moved my daughter in with him last month, we would hurry upstairs at the first sound of crying so he wouldn't wake her up. Did we reinforce something? He looks asleep almost every time we go up to settle him, but does he register that we've arrived (or more to the point, that we failed to arrive.)
It turns out my daughter can sleep through fog horns, thunder storms, marching bands going down the hall and yes, my son wailing for twenty minutes. We tested him last night. We had resolve. He escalated to the point that we wondered if something was wrong. Was he sick? Had he messed up his pants? Was his leg wedged in the bed?
No. He was fine. Until he sensed you were going back to bed. Or, so it seemed. And he may have had something wrong. But we saw no itching. He had no fever. He had had a good amount of milk shortly before bed so he should have been full. And yet nothing seemed to soothe him.
Until he was taken out of the crib, something we rarely, if ever do. That's one thing we've done well with both babies. When I did it he tried to lay on me, but I'm not that comfortable and he's never gone to sleep in people's arms (another intentional decision) so I put him back to bed.
My husband got him out and he wanted to get out of his arms...and he brought over a book...at two-thirty in the morning. I came upstairs to find the happiest, most delighted, giggling, infuriating, baby. He was so cute because he was thrilled to be out of the bed. All worries gone. But was he hungry? We took him downstairs and he literally bounced into the pantry and asked for puffs. He giggled and smiled and did more dancing because he was getting food in the middle of the night. He didn't want much and he wasn't thirsty.
We put him back to bed, only to have the wailing resume. So tonight, we will be at it again, trying to let him work it out for himself and trying to sleep downstairs with a siren just above our heads.
The Big Boy Update: Loves shoes. Your shoes, his shoes, anyone's shoes. He wants to put on his shoes (by asking you to put them on.) He will bring you shoes and try and put your foot into the shoe. He will try to put your shoes on and if you help him, he will try to clomp around the house.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Spikey hair. Her hair is growing and it's still white. She has a little spikey head now. Soon it's going to start looking like little girl hair and not old man head I hope.
Monday, May 21, 2012
I Do Declare!
There seems to be an overuse of exclamation points in writing. Mostly in casual writing like emails, text messages and things online like photo captions. It seems the most obvious when reading something written by someone you know, where the written text comes across as much more enthusiastic than the person ever is in person.
I'm an excitable person, but I don't like to sound too over-zealous in my writing. For years I've put up pictures on web pages. Usually captioning an event or pictures of children (and yes, even my dog has her own domain.) When I would go back and read the pictures captions at a later date, it sounded like I was ending so many of them with a Hip Hip Hooray!! that wasn't necessarily merited.
Sometimes, not putting in that exclamation point makes the very same caption even more cute or funny to me. Strange that adding less excitement or emphasis can make something better in my mind. Maybe I'm striving for a more deadpan humor approach.
But as time goes on, I find myself saving the exclamation point for special occasions. It's the, "I love you" of punctuation marks. Use it too much and it can lose emphasis and distort meaning.
The Big Boy Update: Skin itchy mommy. If I was one to use emoticons—and I am not—I would use one to describe how he's been feeling lately. We've been lubing him up with all kinds of moisturizer and putting hydro cortisone cream on him and trying different things to soothe his itchiness. He has his eighteen-month checkup in two weeks and we're going to ask the doctor and see if she's got any advice. There may also be some seasonal allergies in play as I think he's been itchy in his ears too. Benadryl from time to time is a very welcome help.
The Tiny Girl ChroniclesL Lappin'. She is making laps around the living room and kitchen now in the scoot about. While we had breakfast on the porch with my son, we'd look in and see her making another loop through the dining room into the kitchen. She loves her new mobility.
I'm an excitable person, but I don't like to sound too over-zealous in my writing. For years I've put up pictures on web pages. Usually captioning an event or pictures of children (and yes, even my dog has her own domain.) When I would go back and read the pictures captions at a later date, it sounded like I was ending so many of them with a Hip Hip Hooray!! that wasn't necessarily merited.
Sometimes, not putting in that exclamation point makes the very same caption even more cute or funny to me. Strange that adding less excitement or emphasis can make something better in my mind. Maybe I'm striving for a more deadpan humor approach.
But as time goes on, I find myself saving the exclamation point for special occasions. It's the, "I love you" of punctuation marks. Use it too much and it can lose emphasis and distort meaning.
The Big Boy Update: Skin itchy mommy. If I was one to use emoticons—and I am not—I would use one to describe how he's been feeling lately. We've been lubing him up with all kinds of moisturizer and putting hydro cortisone cream on him and trying different things to soothe his itchiness. He has his eighteen-month checkup in two weeks and we're going to ask the doctor and see if she's got any advice. There may also be some seasonal allergies in play as I think he's been itchy in his ears too. Benadryl from time to time is a very welcome help.
The Tiny Girl ChroniclesL Lappin'. She is making laps around the living room and kitchen now in the scoot about. While we had breakfast on the porch with my son, we'd look in and see her making another loop through the dining room into the kitchen. She loves her new mobility.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
I Am That Moron
My daughter loves things that crinkle. At the doctor's office she tears through yards of the paper they cover up the examination table with. She would happily stay there, and even possibly be willing to get more shots, if she could just tear through some more of their paper.
If I've got something that crinkles, I'll give it to her. An envelope, some wax paper, a grocery bag, anything.
Then I remembered... all those years of reading the printed warnings on all shapes and sizes of bags, "This is not a toy." I remember scoffing at the dumb parents who would give a child a bag to play with. I remember thinking, "why would a child want a bag in the first place?" Now I know.
Now, not only do I understand why the child would want a bag, because, "Ooo! Crinkle!" I also understand why a parent would give a child a bag, because, "here, play with this Subway bag for five minutes while I eat this sandwich quickly."
So yes, I am that moron who would give her child a bag. A choking hazard, instrument of death bag so that she could have a chance to eat lunch. I am living proof of the title of this blog.
The Big Boy Update: Another baby toy. I saw my father this morning. We talked about another childhood toy, the Nokout Block. You hammer pegs into the top and they travel through the wooden digestive tract of the toy and come out the side. My father said he'd make me some replacement pegs for mine so my son could play with it and have it function. I brought it downstairs from the attic and he knew just what to do with the pegs and hammer. The best part was how he liked to lick the pegs before putting them. "down the chute."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I'm coming to get you. Wait, where did you go? In the last three days she's really learned how to use the scoot about with remarkable agility. Three days ago she didn't know she could deliberately move it. Now, she will chase you around the house, albeit slowly. Her view on the world has changed. She found herself in the oven glass and looked at her reflection for a good while between trying to find us.
If I've got something that crinkles, I'll give it to her. An envelope, some wax paper, a grocery bag, anything.
Then I remembered... all those years of reading the printed warnings on all shapes and sizes of bags, "This is not a toy." I remember scoffing at the dumb parents who would give a child a bag to play with. I remember thinking, "why would a child want a bag in the first place?" Now I know.
Now, not only do I understand why the child would want a bag, because, "Ooo! Crinkle!" I also understand why a parent would give a child a bag, because, "here, play with this Subway bag for five minutes while I eat this sandwich quickly."
So yes, I am that moron who would give her child a bag. A choking hazard, instrument of death bag so that she could have a chance to eat lunch. I am living proof of the title of this blog.
The Big Boy Update: Another baby toy. I saw my father this morning. We talked about another childhood toy, the Nokout Block. You hammer pegs into the top and they travel through the wooden digestive tract of the toy and come out the side. My father said he'd make me some replacement pegs for mine so my son could play with it and have it function. I brought it downstairs from the attic and he knew just what to do with the pegs and hammer. The best part was how he liked to lick the pegs before putting them. "down the chute."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I'm coming to get you. Wait, where did you go? In the last three days she's really learned how to use the scoot about with remarkable agility. Three days ago she didn't know she could deliberately move it. Now, she will chase you around the house, albeit slowly. Her view on the world has changed. She found herself in the oven glass and looked at her reflection for a good while between trying to find us.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Tick Tock Clock
I had a Fisher Price Tick Tock Teaching Clock as a child. I loved it. It was heavy but when you wound it up it played a haunting little melody. I wound that clock up again and again and drug it all over the house. I loved my clock.
My parents saved the clock and now I have it for my children. What is it though with children's songs being so morbid? I loved the song, but it also scared me:
Nienty years without stumbling,
Tick tock, tick tock,
His's life's seconds numbering,
Tick tock, tick tock,
But it stopped, short,
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
I had it out recently but my son didn't seem to have much interest. This evening I put it in front of my daughter and she was entranced. She would grab at it and pull it over by the handle and watch the knob spin on the back.
My son decided if she was interested in it, it must be good stuff. He took it from her several times, and then after his milk before bed he wanted to see it again, sit on the floor and look while it played the song.
I'm glad I still have some of my childhood things. It's always nice to remember something that was special to you and see that other people find it interesting too. Now, if I can only keep him from hitting her in the head with it...
The Big Boy Update: Sitter. We had a sitter all day here while we got some things done. He had a great time from what I could tell. Every time I went upstairs he was having fun. From the running around I could hear above while I was in the basement, he had a tiring day too.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Streakin'! She made a mess of herself multiple times today. Our sitter put her in the scoot about without clothes at one point while she fed my son. She was so cute in the saucer trying to walk in it without clothes.
My parents saved the clock and now I have it for my children. What is it though with children's songs being so morbid? I loved the song, but it also scared me:
Nienty years without stumbling,
Tick tock, tick tock,
His's life's seconds numbering,
Tick tock, tick tock,
But it stopped, short,
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
I had it out recently but my son didn't seem to have much interest. This evening I put it in front of my daughter and she was entranced. She would grab at it and pull it over by the handle and watch the knob spin on the back.
My son decided if she was interested in it, it must be good stuff. He took it from her several times, and then after his milk before bed he wanted to see it again, sit on the floor and look while it played the song.
I'm glad I still have some of my childhood things. It's always nice to remember something that was special to you and see that other people find it interesting too. Now, if I can only keep him from hitting her in the head with it...
The Big Boy Update: Sitter. We had a sitter all day here while we got some things done. He had a great time from what I could tell. Every time I went upstairs he was having fun. From the running around I could hear above while I was in the basement, he had a tiring day too.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Streakin'! She made a mess of herself multiple times today. Our sitter put her in the scoot about without clothes at one point while she fed my son. She was so cute in the saucer trying to walk in it without clothes.
Friday, May 18, 2012
The Magic Audiobook
I swear, I'm not listening to a romantic novel. It's not a Harlequin Romance or anything even remotely like it. But I think the book has it out for me.
I've been working on my 5K training in the morning. I go out sometime between seven and eight and run around the block. It's a longish block, about a half mile. So I run around it multiple times. While I'm going around, neighbors leave for work, trucks arrive at the construction sites, and sometimes people are even out walking or doing morning exercise.
I have some headphones, but I have an arm strap for my phone and I don't have to deal with wires, so I have the audiobook just talk to me while I go around.
A few days ago the main character in the book—a Science Fiction book—talks about growing up and how she met her husband. I've read this book before, but I guess I forgot how she described their wedding and wedding night. It wasn't a long part of the book, but every time she got to something even remotely related to sex, someone would be right there as I ran by. Every time.
I got past that part and thought the poor timing while running was over. Not so. The next day she talks about an issue she had with a preacher and how she had to deal with him. Not sex so much, but it sure as heck sounded like I was listening to something racy when I jogged by the guys waiting to start their shift at the construction site.
Gotta be done with it now. I do not remember this book repeatedly talking about sex. Today, she was having her first child and there were bits that sounded like the "wrong kind of book" again.
Maybe I'm overly worried people will think I'm reading silly love stories. I think the audiobook is out to get me though. Tomorrow there had better be lasers and rocket ships or something serious and non-fluffy.
The Big Boy Update: I like to dance. He has started hopping around and favoring one foot over the other in the past two weeks. We were (well are) worried there's something wrong with his foot. We've been reassured by other mothers that this is just what kids do as they learn to move and that it gets more enthusiastic and cuter as they get older.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Biting her lip. She's working through her first two teeth by sucking her lower lip in and chewing on it. She's worn through a spot outside her lip. I'm trying to give her things to hold and chew. She can hold on to something forever. Unless she really wants it or needs it and then she just drops it on the floor.
I've been working on my 5K training in the morning. I go out sometime between seven and eight and run around the block. It's a longish block, about a half mile. So I run around it multiple times. While I'm going around, neighbors leave for work, trucks arrive at the construction sites, and sometimes people are even out walking or doing morning exercise.
I have some headphones, but I have an arm strap for my phone and I don't have to deal with wires, so I have the audiobook just talk to me while I go around.
A few days ago the main character in the book—a Science Fiction book—talks about growing up and how she met her husband. I've read this book before, but I guess I forgot how she described their wedding and wedding night. It wasn't a long part of the book, but every time she got to something even remotely related to sex, someone would be right there as I ran by. Every time.
I got past that part and thought the poor timing while running was over. Not so. The next day she talks about an issue she had with a preacher and how she had to deal with him. Not sex so much, but it sure as heck sounded like I was listening to something racy when I jogged by the guys waiting to start their shift at the construction site.
Gotta be done with it now. I do not remember this book repeatedly talking about sex. Today, she was having her first child and there were bits that sounded like the "wrong kind of book" again.
Maybe I'm overly worried people will think I'm reading silly love stories. I think the audiobook is out to get me though. Tomorrow there had better be lasers and rocket ships or something serious and non-fluffy.
The Big Boy Update: I like to dance. He has started hopping around and favoring one foot over the other in the past two weeks. We were (well are) worried there's something wrong with his foot. We've been reassured by other mothers that this is just what kids do as they learn to move and that it gets more enthusiastic and cuter as they get older.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Biting her lip. She's working through her first two teeth by sucking her lower lip in and chewing on it. She's worn through a spot outside her lip. I'm trying to give her things to hold and chew. She can hold on to something forever. Unless she really wants it or needs it and then she just drops it on the floor.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Familial Resemblances
I haven't spent a lot of time around children and I regularly discover things that probably everyone else already knows. For instance, children look like their parents.
Okay, I knew that. But I didn't realize how distinct some of the resemblances were; how very clear it is who's child is who's in a crowd.
I'm in a Kindermusik class with my son. We started when he was nine-months-old and couldn't yet walk, You do a lot of singing and introducing the baby to musical beats and different sounds. The children love it. There are useful songs, like the "Hello La" song that magically calms my son down and can be used when he's very angry on the changing table. There's the, "Toys Away" song that we always sing when we put a musical instrument away (shakers, drums, etc.) and all the parents put the item into the bin. After a few months all the children start to put the items into the bin. And now, you can sing, "xxx Away" and he'll help you clean up anything in the house.
When we first started there were only three other children in our class. One of the other mothers I already knew. The other two looked liked their children, but I didn't think too much of it. As the school year went on, our class grew to over ten. Some of the children are brought to class by a grandmother, most are brought by their mothers. Over time, fathers have come to class when the mothers have had commitments.
After seeing what I've seen now, I would bed I could go into a class of ten toddlers and pair them with the correct parent or even grandparent with about an 80% accuracy after watching them for an hour. It is truly remarkable how children not only resemble parents in facial structure, hair, body shape, but also in gestures, body movement and facial expressions.
The Big Boy Update: DIP! My son is obsessed with dipping. It started with catchup for his hotdog and french fries. It expanded to include his nuggets and now is almost a vital part of any meal. If you want him to try something new, pair it with a small bowl for dipping and you're sure to have him try it and probably like it.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Scoot about. We have what I think people traditionally call a "saucer" where the baby stands inside a wheeled buggy with a tray on the front. I tend to name things and then discover the more common name for them later. At any rate, we have a scoot-about. She's been in it a lot recently, but only in the last two days has she discovered she can make it go. It's not necessarily going anywhere specific, but if it's on the hardwood floor or the deck or the porch, she's moving all around. She's got her arms out to the side making it look simultaneously like she's trying to balance but would also like a hug.
Right-size Countdown: Wow, it's strange not adding this section into the day's post. It's stranger still not writing down my progress (or backtrack) for the day too.
Okay, I knew that. But I didn't realize how distinct some of the resemblances were; how very clear it is who's child is who's in a crowd.
I'm in a Kindermusik class with my son. We started when he was nine-months-old and couldn't yet walk, You do a lot of singing and introducing the baby to musical beats and different sounds. The children love it. There are useful songs, like the "Hello La" song that magically calms my son down and can be used when he's very angry on the changing table. There's the, "Toys Away" song that we always sing when we put a musical instrument away (shakers, drums, etc.) and all the parents put the item into the bin. After a few months all the children start to put the items into the bin. And now, you can sing, "xxx Away" and he'll help you clean up anything in the house.
When we first started there were only three other children in our class. One of the other mothers I already knew. The other two looked liked their children, but I didn't think too much of it. As the school year went on, our class grew to over ten. Some of the children are brought to class by a grandmother, most are brought by their mothers. Over time, fathers have come to class when the mothers have had commitments.
After seeing what I've seen now, I would bed I could go into a class of ten toddlers and pair them with the correct parent or even grandparent with about an 80% accuracy after watching them for an hour. It is truly remarkable how children not only resemble parents in facial structure, hair, body shape, but also in gestures, body movement and facial expressions.
The Big Boy Update: DIP! My son is obsessed with dipping. It started with catchup for his hotdog and french fries. It expanded to include his nuggets and now is almost a vital part of any meal. If you want him to try something new, pair it with a small bowl for dipping and you're sure to have him try it and probably like it.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Scoot about. We have what I think people traditionally call a "saucer" where the baby stands inside a wheeled buggy with a tray on the front. I tend to name things and then discover the more common name for them later. At any rate, we have a scoot-about. She's been in it a lot recently, but only in the last two days has she discovered she can make it go. It's not necessarily going anywhere specific, but if it's on the hardwood floor or the deck or the porch, she's moving all around. She's got her arms out to the side making it look simultaneously like she's trying to balance but would also like a hug.
Right-size Countdown: Wow, it's strange not adding this section into the day's post. It's stranger still not writing down my progress (or backtrack) for the day too.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
I Must Remember This...
Arugh, I forgot. How could I forget that thing, whatever it was. It was funny, it was timely, it was a stuck in my mind. It's only been an hour later and now I have not a clue what it was.
I was going to email myself so I wouldn't forget this important, whatever-it-was thing I was so enthusiastic about. How does this always happen to me?
Do our brains work certain ways because we've trained them to do so? If we deviate outside of those ways, are we lost and destined to fail because we never strengthened those brain "muscles?" I have wondered that so many times.
If I need to remember something, I write it down. The up-side is I have a complete list when I need it of all the things I wanted to remember or do. The downside is I have to write it down. I am amazed that some people just remember things. My husband will remember the strangest thing that isn't on the grocery list, my builder remembered where every outlet and switch was in our house and had a mental map of the seventeen things that needed to be corrected on the punch-list/ He would walk in a room and remember the items for that room. A friend would put his keys in the most bizarre place when visiting, like on top of a bookshelf (he was tall) and would unfailingly go straight to them when it was time to go.
I don't work that way. I have to have all my things in my purse, because if I spread out, I'm very likely to forget something. So, have I done myself a disservice by not expecting my brain to remember things? Have I handicapped my ability to remember?
I tried the other night to use a trick many people use. It was the middle of the night, I had a blog entry I wanted to write about. I didn't feel like writing it down (or sending myself a quick note on my phone) so I envisioned something crazy that would help trigger my great idea later. I thought of bowls, lots of bowls, going down the stairs and heading over to my desk, ending in front of my keyboard. Clearly, this strange image would help me remember my idea the next morning.
Nope. Not a clue. I have a clear memory of the bowls (this was almost two weeks ago) and not a smidgen of an idea what the thought was about. I have decided I'm highly functional in a dysfunctional way/ Remember that bit about being rationalizing beings?
The Big Boy Update: Phone calls and brooms. He has hit the age of imitation. He wants to sweep, mop, dust, clean with a cloth, vacuum and put things away. Yesterday, he got two different toy phones and walked around with them talking into them. One was a flip phone. We don't even have flip phones, but he knew somehow it was a phone. We pretend called him and talked to him. He also got out the towel for bath time, and the put it back in the closet, and then got it out, and then put it back. We didn't show him any of these things, he has just figured them out himself. Now if only he could say mama and daddy...
The Tiny Girl Update: Arms out for balance. She likes to hold her arms back to balance. She pulls them forward to grasp at things, but when you hold her, she's in airplane mode. I hope she doesn't think we're going to drop her.
I was going to email myself so I wouldn't forget this important, whatever-it-was thing I was so enthusiastic about. How does this always happen to me?
Do our brains work certain ways because we've trained them to do so? If we deviate outside of those ways, are we lost and destined to fail because we never strengthened those brain "muscles?" I have wondered that so many times.
If I need to remember something, I write it down. The up-side is I have a complete list when I need it of all the things I wanted to remember or do. The downside is I have to write it down. I am amazed that some people just remember things. My husband will remember the strangest thing that isn't on the grocery list, my builder remembered where every outlet and switch was in our house and had a mental map of the seventeen things that needed to be corrected on the punch-list/ He would walk in a room and remember the items for that room. A friend would put his keys in the most bizarre place when visiting, like on top of a bookshelf (he was tall) and would unfailingly go straight to them when it was time to go.
I don't work that way. I have to have all my things in my purse, because if I spread out, I'm very likely to forget something. So, have I done myself a disservice by not expecting my brain to remember things? Have I handicapped my ability to remember?
I tried the other night to use a trick many people use. It was the middle of the night, I had a blog entry I wanted to write about. I didn't feel like writing it down (or sending myself a quick note on my phone) so I envisioned something crazy that would help trigger my great idea later. I thought of bowls, lots of bowls, going down the stairs and heading over to my desk, ending in front of my keyboard. Clearly, this strange image would help me remember my idea the next morning.
Nope. Not a clue. I have a clear memory of the bowls (this was almost two weeks ago) and not a smidgen of an idea what the thought was about. I have decided I'm highly functional in a dysfunctional way/ Remember that bit about being rationalizing beings?
The Big Boy Update: Phone calls and brooms. He has hit the age of imitation. He wants to sweep, mop, dust, clean with a cloth, vacuum and put things away. Yesterday, he got two different toy phones and walked around with them talking into them. One was a flip phone. We don't even have flip phones, but he knew somehow it was a phone. We pretend called him and talked to him. He also got out the towel for bath time, and the put it back in the closet, and then got it out, and then put it back. We didn't show him any of these things, he has just figured them out himself. Now if only he could say mama and daddy...
The Tiny Girl Update: Arms out for balance. She likes to hold her arms back to balance. She pulls them forward to grasp at things, but when you hold her, she's in airplane mode. I hope she doesn't think we're going to drop her.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
The Dangers of Dieting
You didn’t know dieting could be dangerous? It’s true, it can. Check the internet. There are tales about unhealthy diets, fad diets and a veritable plethora of horror stories about how dieting can go wrong. What follows is my personal experience.
But first, let me say that I didn’t have a bad experience dieting. I think I dieted at a reasonable pace and was healthy as I lost the weight. I paired exercise with diet and was able to stick to my dieting goals because I picked a diet I knew I could live with for weeks on end. Today, my dieting phase ends. I reached my goal a bit ago, but that was an optimal weight. It wasn’t a real weight. I waited until I lost two more pounds and I’m glad I did. Over the past two weeks I’ve been hovering both above and below my goal. Now that I’ve lost a little more weight, I’m usually right about my goal during the day, a little above after meals and a little below in the morning. It’s just what you need to feel confident you’ve really made it instead of feeling you’ve backtracked the minute you stop dieting.
Now I can start maintenance. The maintenance diet is a lot like the weight loss diet, only with more calories per day. I just don’t know that I can do without my broccoli, and I am certainly not going into a candy store until I have the confidence that I won’t gorge and overeat. Mmmm… candy.
Strange thing is, I feel comfortable now watching what I eat. It seems like the normal, natural thing to do. Only six months ago I was trying to eat more, making sure I consumed enough calories each day so the baby would be big and healthy. Now, I feel normal when I tell myself, “no, you don’t need those calories. Save up for dinner. There’s going to be salmon for dinner. You love salmon and you don’t need a granola bar now.”
But back to the dangers of dieting. In the past, I’ve had a hard time dieting. Anyone who has dieted, and failed, can tell you how hard it is. Our bodies don’t like to be deprived of food. Our stomach complains and our mind starts to work us over. It tells us how we need to eat something and gives us great reasons why we really have to have that Cinnabon. Our mind lies to us. It doesn’t have to bear the weight of all the extra fat on our bodies. The brain doesn’t have to worry about how heavy everything else is below it.
When you get into a dieting groove where you truly want to be dieting, where your mind is committed, a strange flip can occur. Food can start to look like a bad thing. That’s the danger I’m talking about. I’ve never been anorexic. I’ve never once thrown up a meal unless I was truly sick (or, okay, too drunk.) But I got a very mild taste of what those people go through.
I started taking notes on things I was thinking, things I was planning on writing here, once I finished dieting. My entire attitude about food changed. Food was a necessary thing, but something I needed to use as a tool to get to the next day. Historically, I had a hard time dieting because I would crave an item or a taste. With the attitude that food contains calories and calories are bad, it was easier to pick a menu item that might not have been as tasty sounding, even if it was my main meal of the day, because it was “less bad.”
If I did well, I was very proud of myself. I found that once I had truly committed myself to losing the weight, it was easier to stay on the diet than break it. It’s why in the twelve weeks, I don’t think I had a bad day.
Sounds like a good thing, but it has its dark side. If I perceived I had done poorly on a day, maybe I didn’t know how many calories I had eaten or I just thought I had eaten too much, I felt like I needed to go running, biking, walking or something to burn calories to make it a good day. This perception of eating too much was stronger at times. If I had a poor weigh-in one day and thought it was because I ate too much weight in broccoli (which is very low in calories) I would decide I needed to eat even less broccoli the next day.
My mood for the day could be affected if I had a bad weigh-in in the morning. If it wasn’t good, I would double down, be more committed, and decide to eat less to catch up from the day before. That’s right, from the day before in which I didn’t overeat or go over my target calories. There was a feeling that because I didn’t drop in weight, I had to punish myself and do more exercise or eat more cautiously the next day.
If I had been dieting well for several days but hadn’t shown any weight-loss I would talk to my husband about it. I would tell him I knew I was doing well, but I was frustrated it wasn’t showing on the scale. Shortly, there would be a big drop in weight and I would be relieved. And yet…
The new low never seemed good enough. While I would worry over any lack of progress at length, I would immediately dismiss the new low and feel a need to keep focused for the rest of the day so I could make another new low the day following. The new low was low, but it wasn’t low enough. No slacking, no taking a break was my line of thought.
Then I had eye surgery and I had to stop exercising for a week. Initially I’d feel like I’d totally failed myself because I hadn’t exercised that day. I’d feel lazy and could imagine the weight piling back on, even though I knew I wasn’t overeating. If I felt I’d failed myself in any way, I could feel like the day was a total loss, even though it clearly wasn’t. And the strangest, most bizarre of all, was feeling, “I’ve just eaten, therefore I’m fat.”
Keep in mind, these are impressions I had while dieting. These aren’t true issues I had. I wrote them down and wanted to reflect on them when I was done because some of the thoughts that went through my head made me understand, for the briefest moment, what it might be like to have an unhealthy attitude about my weight.
The opposite could be true as well. I could have very unhealthy thoughts about food. I could be consuming too much, focusing on food for comfort and gaining lots of weight as a result. Instead, I worked hard, lost the weight, and got an interesting perspective in the process.
Now, about that next project I get to work on… maintenance diet.
The Big Boy Update: Eating from a plate. At lunch today, I got him a nuggets meal with fries. He sat all meal with the plate in front of him, eating the food and not trying to tip the plate over once. I was impressed.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: ahhhhh ahhhh ahhhhh ahhhhh ahhhh. My goodness, she likes to make that sound. If she's hungry or if she's bored. It's the sound that means we need to figure out what is up and make it stop.
Right-size Countdown: -2.2 pounds.
But first, let me say that I didn’t have a bad experience dieting. I think I dieted at a reasonable pace and was healthy as I lost the weight. I paired exercise with diet and was able to stick to my dieting goals because I picked a diet I knew I could live with for weeks on end. Today, my dieting phase ends. I reached my goal a bit ago, but that was an optimal weight. It wasn’t a real weight. I waited until I lost two more pounds and I’m glad I did. Over the past two weeks I’ve been hovering both above and below my goal. Now that I’ve lost a little more weight, I’m usually right about my goal during the day, a little above after meals and a little below in the morning. It’s just what you need to feel confident you’ve really made it instead of feeling you’ve backtracked the minute you stop dieting.
Now I can start maintenance. The maintenance diet is a lot like the weight loss diet, only with more calories per day. I just don’t know that I can do without my broccoli, and I am certainly not going into a candy store until I have the confidence that I won’t gorge and overeat. Mmmm… candy.
Strange thing is, I feel comfortable now watching what I eat. It seems like the normal, natural thing to do. Only six months ago I was trying to eat more, making sure I consumed enough calories each day so the baby would be big and healthy. Now, I feel normal when I tell myself, “no, you don’t need those calories. Save up for dinner. There’s going to be salmon for dinner. You love salmon and you don’t need a granola bar now.”
But back to the dangers of dieting. In the past, I’ve had a hard time dieting. Anyone who has dieted, and failed, can tell you how hard it is. Our bodies don’t like to be deprived of food. Our stomach complains and our mind starts to work us over. It tells us how we need to eat something and gives us great reasons why we really have to have that Cinnabon. Our mind lies to us. It doesn’t have to bear the weight of all the extra fat on our bodies. The brain doesn’t have to worry about how heavy everything else is below it.
When you get into a dieting groove where you truly want to be dieting, where your mind is committed, a strange flip can occur. Food can start to look like a bad thing. That’s the danger I’m talking about. I’ve never been anorexic. I’ve never once thrown up a meal unless I was truly sick (or, okay, too drunk.) But I got a very mild taste of what those people go through.
I started taking notes on things I was thinking, things I was planning on writing here, once I finished dieting. My entire attitude about food changed. Food was a necessary thing, but something I needed to use as a tool to get to the next day. Historically, I had a hard time dieting because I would crave an item or a taste. With the attitude that food contains calories and calories are bad, it was easier to pick a menu item that might not have been as tasty sounding, even if it was my main meal of the day, because it was “less bad.”
If I did well, I was very proud of myself. I found that once I had truly committed myself to losing the weight, it was easier to stay on the diet than break it. It’s why in the twelve weeks, I don’t think I had a bad day.
Sounds like a good thing, but it has its dark side. If I perceived I had done poorly on a day, maybe I didn’t know how many calories I had eaten or I just thought I had eaten too much, I felt like I needed to go running, biking, walking or something to burn calories to make it a good day. This perception of eating too much was stronger at times. If I had a poor weigh-in one day and thought it was because I ate too much weight in broccoli (which is very low in calories) I would decide I needed to eat even less broccoli the next day.
My mood for the day could be affected if I had a bad weigh-in in the morning. If it wasn’t good, I would double down, be more committed, and decide to eat less to catch up from the day before. That’s right, from the day before in which I didn’t overeat or go over my target calories. There was a feeling that because I didn’t drop in weight, I had to punish myself and do more exercise or eat more cautiously the next day.
If I had been dieting well for several days but hadn’t shown any weight-loss I would talk to my husband about it. I would tell him I knew I was doing well, but I was frustrated it wasn’t showing on the scale. Shortly, there would be a big drop in weight and I would be relieved. And yet…
The new low never seemed good enough. While I would worry over any lack of progress at length, I would immediately dismiss the new low and feel a need to keep focused for the rest of the day so I could make another new low the day following. The new low was low, but it wasn’t low enough. No slacking, no taking a break was my line of thought.
Then I had eye surgery and I had to stop exercising for a week. Initially I’d feel like I’d totally failed myself because I hadn’t exercised that day. I’d feel lazy and could imagine the weight piling back on, even though I knew I wasn’t overeating. If I felt I’d failed myself in any way, I could feel like the day was a total loss, even though it clearly wasn’t. And the strangest, most bizarre of all, was feeling, “I’ve just eaten, therefore I’m fat.”
Keep in mind, these are impressions I had while dieting. These aren’t true issues I had. I wrote them down and wanted to reflect on them when I was done because some of the thoughts that went through my head made me understand, for the briefest moment, what it might be like to have an unhealthy attitude about my weight.
The opposite could be true as well. I could have very unhealthy thoughts about food. I could be consuming too much, focusing on food for comfort and gaining lots of weight as a result. Instead, I worked hard, lost the weight, and got an interesting perspective in the process.
Now, about that next project I get to work on… maintenance diet.
The Big Boy Update: Eating from a plate. At lunch today, I got him a nuggets meal with fries. He sat all meal with the plate in front of him, eating the food and not trying to tip the plate over once. I was impressed.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: ahhhhh ahhhh ahhhhh ahhhhh ahhhh. My goodness, she likes to make that sound. If she's hungry or if she's bored. It's the sound that means we need to figure out what is up and make it stop.
Right-size Countdown: -2.2 pounds.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Creative Gifts
Yesterday was Mother's Day. My husband and I don't do much to celebrate Valentines day, Mother's Day or Father's Day. But we had some wonderful happy wishes from family members yesterday. And as a surprise, I got a gift from my Mother-in-law:
And it was a three-fold gift. First, it was a gift she hand-made. Second, she reused a container that was a gift from my sister-in-law, so three points for reuse. And third, the gift was turned into a Mother's Day dinner for both her and me by my husband who used 100% of the items in a salad and dish he made.
We had a nice day, including a phone call to my mother, who talked to my son while he listened and said, "bye bye" when they were done. We had a Skype call with my two sister-in-laws from the west coast and just had a calm day all around.
The Big Boy Update: Branching out with foods. He's becoming more adventurous with food when we go out. This is great. Hopefully he'll continue to be interested in what we're eating and have an interest in trying something just because it's on our plate. Food flexible is a good thing.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The tooth! She has her first tooth. She is happy, until she's not. She went to the doctors today for her six month wellness check. The doctor said, "she's just perfect." Then the doctor left and the nurse came in and gave her several shots. She was fine for a while, but the tooth pain and the after-effects of the shots and she is currently making us deaf. Some Tylenol and the baby swing and I think she's going to have a nice nap. A quiet nap.
Right-size Countdown: -0.8 pounds to go
And it was a three-fold gift. First, it was a gift she hand-made. Second, she reused a container that was a gift from my sister-in-law, so three points for reuse. And third, the gift was turned into a Mother's Day dinner for both her and me by my husband who used 100% of the items in a salad and dish he made.
We had a nice day, including a phone call to my mother, who talked to my son while he listened and said, "bye bye" when they were done. We had a Skype call with my two sister-in-laws from the west coast and just had a calm day all around.
The Big Boy Update: Branching out with foods. He's becoming more adventurous with food when we go out. This is great. Hopefully he'll continue to be interested in what we're eating and have an interest in trying something just because it's on our plate. Food flexible is a good thing.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The tooth! She has her first tooth. She is happy, until she's not. She went to the doctors today for her six month wellness check. The doctor said, "she's just perfect." Then the doctor left and the nurse came in and gave her several shots. She was fine for a while, but the tooth pain and the after-effects of the shots and she is currently making us deaf. Some Tylenol and the baby swing and I think she's going to have a nice nap. A quiet nap.
Right-size Countdown: -0.8 pounds to go
Sunday, May 13, 2012
The Grass Is Never Greener
There's that saying, "The grass is always greener on the other side." Yes, it's one of those idioms and yes, I hate idioms. I hate it when I contradict myself. I still try to remove excessive idioms from my speech, but they invariably crop up. They just so blasted useful in their succinct way of conjuring up a mental image.
But back to the grass... It's natural to think that what someone else has or some situation or some thing might be better than what you have. I think it's our way of evaluating life's situations. Sometimes we can let it control us in a negative way, and other times it's a useful tool to make goals or decisions or to even inspire.
I have a friend though, let's call him Mister X, who seems to be stuck in The Grass Is Never Greener land. He seems to be disappointed by most situations, maybe they didn't work the way he had hoped, or they had, but the result wasn't what he expected. I just get the distinct impression that nothing is ever really satisfying and that he's never going to be happy.
Could it be depression, you ask? I asked myself the same question. It could be, but I can't say. He's a happy enough person, and yet life never seems to bring happy results. I hope I'm wrong.
It got me thinking. I was going to title this blog, "Nothing to Complain About" so that I remembered every post that I'm not here to whine. But it must be hard to be positive all the time when you think everyone and everything is failing you.
The Big Boy Update: For the love of ball. Everything is still ball. Or it's bye. Or it's duh-kee. And when that just won't do it's dukadukadukadukaduka for added emphasis. His understanding of words continues to grow rapidly, but his spoken vocabulary has yet to catch up.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Arms out for balance! She likes to hold her arms way out to the side for balance. She doesn't hug on to you when you hold her, she's in airplane climb mode. Maybe it's helped her to sit up and balance so well, or maybe she just doesn't trust us to hold her steady.
Right-size Countdown: 0.0 pounds to go
But back to the grass... It's natural to think that what someone else has or some situation or some thing might be better than what you have. I think it's our way of evaluating life's situations. Sometimes we can let it control us in a negative way, and other times it's a useful tool to make goals or decisions or to even inspire.
I have a friend though, let's call him Mister X, who seems to be stuck in The Grass Is Never Greener land. He seems to be disappointed by most situations, maybe they didn't work the way he had hoped, or they had, but the result wasn't what he expected. I just get the distinct impression that nothing is ever really satisfying and that he's never going to be happy.
Could it be depression, you ask? I asked myself the same question. It could be, but I can't say. He's a happy enough person, and yet life never seems to bring happy results. I hope I'm wrong.
It got me thinking. I was going to title this blog, "Nothing to Complain About" so that I remembered every post that I'm not here to whine. But it must be hard to be positive all the time when you think everyone and everything is failing you.
The Big Boy Update: For the love of ball. Everything is still ball. Or it's bye. Or it's duh-kee. And when that just won't do it's dukadukadukadukaduka for added emphasis. His understanding of words continues to grow rapidly, but his spoken vocabulary has yet to catch up.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Arms out for balance! She likes to hold her arms way out to the side for balance. She doesn't hug on to you when you hold her, she's in airplane climb mode. Maybe it's helped her to sit up and balance so well, or maybe she just doesn't trust us to hold her steady.
Right-size Countdown: 0.0 pounds to go
Saturday, May 12, 2012
The Gaddy Rationalization
We are rationalizing beings. We can be rational, but what we do even better is rationalize. Have you ever talked yourself into something over time that, in retrospect, was completely unreasonable?
I remember being in Cotillion as a young girl. We were taught manners and ballroom dancing. We were mortified with the whole prospect of touching a member of the opposite sex at the beginning, but we had to do it, and we had to be polite, without fail, no matter how distasteful we found the person to be.
At the end of each year we went to the Cotillion Ball. We got formal invitations, wore fancy dresses and even had dance cards. After making it through the first year, some of my friends and I decided we liked ballroom dancing. We came back and did multiple years more. We learned fancier dance steps and the male partners became more likeable as we matured.
The elegant lady who taught the classes was Mrs. Gaddy. She was always poised, had great advice and was someone I looked up to and respected. She was the owner and master coordinator of the whole program.
After we had aged out, we were still good friends with Mrs. Gaddy. Sometimes she would need extra boys or girls at the balls to balance out the dance cards. We loved to go as alumni.
One year, my boyfriend was asked, but I wasn't. He and my friends and I talked it over. Eventually we talked ourselves into a lost invitation in the mail and were even confident i was invited.
When I arrived the first clue should have been no dance card and no flower waiting for me at the table. I was getting concerned. When I fully realized that I had talked myself into something that made no sense, I tried to leave, but the proctors wouldn't let me go sit in a car. I went and cried in the bathroom.
Eventually, the word got out and one of the proctors came in and said, "I don't think Mrs. Gaddy would want you to be in here crying the whole time. Why don't you come out and sit with us." Mr. Gaddy, a well-known news caster, came and asked me for a dance. I was embarrassed and felt foolish but I did dance with him. I remember he smelled like cologne, something the boys were too young to wear.
Later I spoke to Mrs. Gaddy and apologized, explaining how our logic had been poor and our thoughts unreasoned and I had no one but myself to blame and I felt foolish because she had been so kind to teach me manners. She was gracious and kind and I still remember her fondly to this day.
It's interesting how we can talk ourselves into anything if we want it badly enough.
I remember being in Cotillion as a young girl. We were taught manners and ballroom dancing. We were mortified with the whole prospect of touching a member of the opposite sex at the beginning, but we had to do it, and we had to be polite, without fail, no matter how distasteful we found the person to be.
At the end of each year we went to the Cotillion Ball. We got formal invitations, wore fancy dresses and even had dance cards. After making it through the first year, some of my friends and I decided we liked ballroom dancing. We came back and did multiple years more. We learned fancier dance steps and the male partners became more likeable as we matured.
The elegant lady who taught the classes was Mrs. Gaddy. She was always poised, had great advice and was someone I looked up to and respected. She was the owner and master coordinator of the whole program.
After we had aged out, we were still good friends with Mrs. Gaddy. Sometimes she would need extra boys or girls at the balls to balance out the dance cards. We loved to go as alumni.
One year, my boyfriend was asked, but I wasn't. He and my friends and I talked it over. Eventually we talked ourselves into a lost invitation in the mail and were even confident i was invited.
When I arrived the first clue should have been no dance card and no flower waiting for me at the table. I was getting concerned. When I fully realized that I had talked myself into something that made no sense, I tried to leave, but the proctors wouldn't let me go sit in a car. I went and cried in the bathroom.
Eventually, the word got out and one of the proctors came in and said, "I don't think Mrs. Gaddy would want you to be in here crying the whole time. Why don't you come out and sit with us." Mr. Gaddy, a well-known news caster, came and asked me for a dance. I was embarrassed and felt foolish but I did dance with him. I remember he smelled like cologne, something the boys were too young to wear.
Later I spoke to Mrs. Gaddy and apologized, explaining how our logic had been poor and our thoughts unreasoned and I had no one but myself to blame and I felt foolish because she had been so kind to teach me manners. She was gracious and kind and I still remember her fondly to this day.
It's interesting how we can talk ourselves into anything if we want it badly enough.
Wedge Work
I'm getting good at something I've named, "wedge work." When you have two children that need mostly constant attention, it's hard to get things done that you could quickly do otherwise. Cleaning up the table after the toddler is done eating can take twenty minutes as you change him, check on her, tell him to not hit her in the head, find where he went, give suggestive toys to distract him, bring him back down from half-way up the stairs, clean her spit-up off her face and floor, etc. You get the picture.
Wedge work is what you have to do to get the regular things in life done while you take care of the children. I am getting good at knowing just how long I can leave them or have them out of sight before I need to check up on them.
It's also good to have tricks. My son likes to play on the deck with the hose. He can entertain himself for long periods of time safety and I can get lots done.
I'm slowly figuring out how to be a mother of two and be efficient at the same time.
The Big Boy Update: Sometimes, I have no idea how much he eats. This morning I was doing things while he was eating breakfast. I was trying some new items out to see if he'd like them. He usually isn't into something, but then either likes or hates it in short order. But if you aren't watching him, you don't really know how much he accidentally or more likely, intentionally shares with the "duk-ee" (or dog,) He knows she's there and he likes to feed her. She brings the term, "hovering" to a whole new level of intensity.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Sitting up, talk babbling and her general level of awareness make her much more of a little lady lately than a wee baby.
Right-size Countdown: -0.8 pounds to go
Wedge work is what you have to do to get the regular things in life done while you take care of the children. I am getting good at knowing just how long I can leave them or have them out of sight before I need to check up on them.
It's also good to have tricks. My son likes to play on the deck with the hose. He can entertain himself for long periods of time safety and I can get lots done.
I'm slowly figuring out how to be a mother of two and be efficient at the same time.
The Big Boy Update: Sometimes, I have no idea how much he eats. This morning I was doing things while he was eating breakfast. I was trying some new items out to see if he'd like them. He usually isn't into something, but then either likes or hates it in short order. But if you aren't watching him, you don't really know how much he accidentally or more likely, intentionally shares with the "duk-ee" (or dog,) He knows she's there and he likes to feed her. She brings the term, "hovering" to a whole new level of intensity.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Sitting up, talk babbling and her general level of awareness make her much more of a little lady lately than a wee baby.
Right-size Countdown: -0.8 pounds to go
Friday, May 11, 2012
6-26-40
Six months ago I had my daughter. It's always hard to believe when time has gone by quickly. Baby time is the same. Six months ago I didn't have a daughter, now, life without her is hard to remember. It's been a happy six months.
Twenty six weeks ago I was having a baby. I weighed the most I've ever weighed in my life. I was happy to be that weight but very glad to be losing a good bit as being pregnant and weighing more is taxing on your body.
Forty pounds. Gone, lost, delivered. Baby weight, water weight, milk weight, body fat weight. It's all gone. If I pick up my two children at the same time, they almost weigh forty pounds. And they're heavy! I don't want to carry them around all day. It's no wonder I was tired and out of breath all the time.
Weight-loss diet is almost done. Weight-maintenance diet is about to start. I feel great.
The Big Boy Update: Here is Elmo. He brought Elmo to his sister and tried, in vain, to explain why Elmo should be important to her. The introductions have been made though.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: No more hand sucking. She has made a complete transition to a pacifier. From time to time she likes to suck on material, but that's usually a wardrobe issue and is easily avoided. I'm glad she's not going to have a thumb-sucking habit as she gets older.
Right-size Countdown: -0.8 pounds to go
Twenty six weeks ago I was having a baby. I weighed the most I've ever weighed in my life. I was happy to be that weight but very glad to be losing a good bit as being pregnant and weighing more is taxing on your body.
Forty pounds. Gone, lost, delivered. Baby weight, water weight, milk weight, body fat weight. It's all gone. If I pick up my two children at the same time, they almost weigh forty pounds. And they're heavy! I don't want to carry them around all day. It's no wonder I was tired and out of breath all the time.
Weight-loss diet is almost done. Weight-maintenance diet is about to start. I feel great.
The Big Boy Update: Here is Elmo. He brought Elmo to his sister and tried, in vain, to explain why Elmo should be important to her. The introductions have been made though.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: No more hand sucking. She has made a complete transition to a pacifier. From time to time she likes to suck on material, but that's usually a wardrobe issue and is easily avoided. I'm glad she's not going to have a thumb-sucking habit as she gets older.
Right-size Countdown: -0.8 pounds to go
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Proud... Of My Friends
I was saddened by the passing of the constitutional amendment yesterday but I found out some things about friends I didn't know. And I am proud of my friends.
I believe people have a right to their own opinions and beliefs, and many people have different beliefs from me. That's okay. I have some great friends. But unless a friend insists on trying to force their beliefs on me, I generally like the person or not based on the whole person.
I have friends that I wondered about in relation to the amendment vote. I didn't know how they felt. I hoped they would be against it, but based on some things they'd said in the past, I wasn't sure. I had friends I was pretty sure were against it, but I didn't think they had any personal stake in the vote and I didn't expect they would make the effort to go and vote in a primary just for the amendment.
I spoke with several friends yesterday and heard about some other friends. I was so proud to find out that not only were they all against the amendment, they had taken the time to go vote and were saddened and/or angry that it had passed.
It turns out even though I don't keep politics and religion in the forefront of conversation—I decidedly avoid it—the friends I keep close with are of the same mind when it comes to equality and telling someone who they have a right to love.
The Big Boy Update: So cold. He wanted to play with the hose again today. It wasn't that warm and the sun wasn't out. I waited until close enough to nap time and then let him have a go with his pants on. He got himself wet but played on. He was cold but he played on. Then he would look at me and whimper and cry a little, but he would play on. Finally he'd had enough. I wrapped him in a towel, dressed him in snug, soft clothes and put him to nap with three blankets. He's still asleep.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Talking? I am telling you, her babble is sounding a lot less tiny baby and a lot more like she's trying to say things. It's eerie because it sounds like a much older baby and I keep thinking my toddler is babbling. She's going to make it to kindergarten before him if she keeps this up.
Right-size Countdown: -1.6 pounds to go.
I believe people have a right to their own opinions and beliefs, and many people have different beliefs from me. That's okay. I have some great friends. But unless a friend insists on trying to force their beliefs on me, I generally like the person or not based on the whole person.
I have friends that I wondered about in relation to the amendment vote. I didn't know how they felt. I hoped they would be against it, but based on some things they'd said in the past, I wasn't sure. I had friends I was pretty sure were against it, but I didn't think they had any personal stake in the vote and I didn't expect they would make the effort to go and vote in a primary just for the amendment.
I spoke with several friends yesterday and heard about some other friends. I was so proud to find out that not only were they all against the amendment, they had taken the time to go vote and were saddened and/or angry that it had passed.
It turns out even though I don't keep politics and religion in the forefront of conversation—I decidedly avoid it—the friends I keep close with are of the same mind when it comes to equality and telling someone who they have a right to love.
The Big Boy Update: So cold. He wanted to play with the hose again today. It wasn't that warm and the sun wasn't out. I waited until close enough to nap time and then let him have a go with his pants on. He got himself wet but played on. He was cold but he played on. Then he would look at me and whimper and cry a little, but he would play on. Finally he'd had enough. I wrapped him in a towel, dressed him in snug, soft clothes and put him to nap with three blankets. He's still asleep.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Talking? I am telling you, her babble is sounding a lot less tiny baby and a lot more like she's trying to say things. It's eerie because it sounds like a much older baby and I keep thinking my toddler is babbling. She's going to make it to kindergarten before him if she keeps this up.
Right-size Countdown: -1.6 pounds to go.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
I Am Ashamed of My State
I am ashamed of the state I live in: North Carolina. I've lived here all my life. I was born here, went to school here, work here and now have children that are being raised her;e. Sometimes, I'm frustrated because people from other areas of the country or other nations think I live in a land of hoe downs, clogging, pig pickings and general backwardness. People's perception of the southern states is largely due to television and movie portrayals and I understand that. That doesn't bother me.
However, yesterday my state voted to pass a constitutional amendment making same sex marriage illegal. It was already illegal, what did we need a constitutional amendment for? The door was already shut and locked, and yet people wanted to put chains around the whole building to make sure nothing could possibly happen that would offend their personal beliefs of what is right? I am disgusted.
I have often thought of a quote from my favorite author, Robert Heinlein, about laws from the book, The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress. In relation to this amendment, I have thought about it quite a lot:
Why do people want laws passed that don't hurt them at all? Why is there a need to pass laws to make other people do, or not do, something that has no affect on them personally? I do not understand.
I am saddened and angry at my state. The only consolation I have is that my county and several others around me as well as some counties with larger cities voted in majority against the amendment.
The Big Boy Update: The first big battle of wills has commenced. He wants milk. He wants it in a bottle. He hates, HATES, milk in a sippy cup. We've transitioned him to a special sippy cup from his Aunts Adrienne and Brenda for his bedtime milk. It has a silicone spout and he will drink that. It's not even the cups that he hates, it's the milk in the cups. Juice in any of them? No problem. Yesterday morning he was begging for milk, crying and pitching a fit for milk. We offered him milk in three different sippy cups at once and let him choose. He screamed and refused all of them and tried to throw them on the floor while at the same time pointing to them saying, "more." He ate breakfast without liquid. We have an added challenge because he sees bottles all day long because of his baby sister. We know that's making it harder. I called a mom friend and asked if we were doing the right thing. SHe said if he's drinking liquids well through the rest of the day to stand strong. That, we can do. I will not be out-stubborned by a seventeen-month-old.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Help, I've rolled over again, WAAH. She forgets how to roll back over and needs help in the middle of the night, or more commonly, the early morning. If she wasn't in a room with her brother or if she just whimpered instead of escalating to full-on scream, I'd let her work it out. As it is, we may have to lend a hand with some flipping over help until she gets a little older.
Right-size Countdown: -0.8 pounds to go.
However, yesterday my state voted to pass a constitutional amendment making same sex marriage illegal. It was already illegal, what did we need a constitutional amendment for? The door was already shut and locked, and yet people wanted to put chains around the whole building to make sure nothing could possibly happen that would offend their personal beliefs of what is right? I am disgusted.
I have often thought of a quote from my favorite author, Robert Heinlein, about laws from the book, The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress. In relation to this amendment, I have thought about it quite a lot:
Must be a yearning deep in human heart
to stop other people from doing as they please.
Rules, laws – always for the other
fellow. A murky part of us,
something we had before we came down out of the tree, and failed to shuck when
we stood up. Because not one of those people said: “Please
pass this so that I won’t be able to do something I know I should stop." Nyet, tovarishcee, was always something they
hated to see neighbors doing. Stop them
“for their own good” – not because speaker claimed to be harmed by it.
I am saddened and angry at my state. The only consolation I have is that my county and several others around me as well as some counties with larger cities voted in majority against the amendment.
The Big Boy Update: The first big battle of wills has commenced. He wants milk. He wants it in a bottle. He hates, HATES, milk in a sippy cup. We've transitioned him to a special sippy cup from his Aunts Adrienne and Brenda for his bedtime milk. It has a silicone spout and he will drink that. It's not even the cups that he hates, it's the milk in the cups. Juice in any of them? No problem. Yesterday morning he was begging for milk, crying and pitching a fit for milk. We offered him milk in three different sippy cups at once and let him choose. He screamed and refused all of them and tried to throw them on the floor while at the same time pointing to them saying, "more." He ate breakfast without liquid. We have an added challenge because he sees bottles all day long because of his baby sister. We know that's making it harder. I called a mom friend and asked if we were doing the right thing. SHe said if he's drinking liquids well through the rest of the day to stand strong. That, we can do. I will not be out-stubborned by a seventeen-month-old.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Help, I've rolled over again, WAAH. She forgets how to roll back over and needs help in the middle of the night, or more commonly, the early morning. If she wasn't in a room with her brother or if she just whimpered instead of escalating to full-on scream, I'd let her work it out. As it is, we may have to lend a hand with some flipping over help until she gets a little older.
Right-size Countdown: -0.8 pounds to go.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Hand Sanitizer Paint Scuff Cleaner
This is a crazy tip I discovered. It may be a well-known fix that's been on the internet for decades, but I randomly discovered it and I'm so thrilled to have an easy solution that does exactly what I want it to.
We have a new house with new paint. New paint that doesn't stay new with clumsy adults and busy toddlers. From time to time we get marks on the walls. For the first year, we knew there would be a repaint coming as things settled and we noticed needed fixes from the initial paint. At a year, we blue-taped up the whole house and added in our biggest booboo's to be fixed. That time has not passed. Any messes now, we're stuck with.
There are Magic Erasers. They do magically erase the mark. But they very un-magically leave a shiny spot where you used them if you have flat paint. I am far more annoyed by the larger shine spot than the initial scuff. So I was biding my time until I had enough to call the painter back in to do a big overhaul.
Then one day there was a large mark made by an upholstered chair my son rubbed into the corner of the wall. I wanted something that would dry, not leave residue on the wall while not being too abrasive. I considered the bottle of hand sanitizer gel in the bathroom. It would dry easily because of the alcohol content and would probably be something I could use to gently rub the paint with.
And it worked. It worked amazingly well. It pulled the mark off and didn't leave a noticeable residual area that looked "fixed." I thought it was a fluke. I tried it on another, different type of mark and got the same great results. I got brave and tried it on a mark that was in sunlight a lot of the day in a very visible spot going up the stairs. I had been annoyed by that spot for months. I realized a week later that I didn't notice it and had completely forgotten it was there. Great Scot, this solution works!
If you want to try this—and I make no guarantees—squirt a blob onto some tissue. Gently rub at the spot back and forth. You will notice that some of the paint comes off, but the mark does as well. Let dry. Celebrate and dance.
The Big Boy Update: Yucky. He can say "yucky." And he can say it in the proper situation—when his diaper is yucky. He will tell you his pants are yucky when you're in the middle of changing him. Yeah, we so already had figured that out. I am hoping soon he will be able to tell us he is yucky before we notice. Then I'll really celebrate and dance.
The Tiny Girl Update: She can sit up now. She didn't do the tripod thing like I had expected. She has been practicing so much in the Bumbo seat and the scoot-about that she's got a lot of torso balance. She wobbles all around, but she can stay up for minutes at time. I need to catch this on video. Maybe I'll go do that now.
Right-size Countdown: 1.0 pounds
We have a new house with new paint. New paint that doesn't stay new with clumsy adults and busy toddlers. From time to time we get marks on the walls. For the first year, we knew there would be a repaint coming as things settled and we noticed needed fixes from the initial paint. At a year, we blue-taped up the whole house and added in our biggest booboo's to be fixed. That time has not passed. Any messes now, we're stuck with.
There are Magic Erasers. They do magically erase the mark. But they very un-magically leave a shiny spot where you used them if you have flat paint. I am far more annoyed by the larger shine spot than the initial scuff. So I was biding my time until I had enough to call the painter back in to do a big overhaul.
Then one day there was a large mark made by an upholstered chair my son rubbed into the corner of the wall. I wanted something that would dry, not leave residue on the wall while not being too abrasive. I considered the bottle of hand sanitizer gel in the bathroom. It would dry easily because of the alcohol content and would probably be something I could use to gently rub the paint with.
And it worked. It worked amazingly well. It pulled the mark off and didn't leave a noticeable residual area that looked "fixed." I thought it was a fluke. I tried it on another, different type of mark and got the same great results. I got brave and tried it on a mark that was in sunlight a lot of the day in a very visible spot going up the stairs. I had been annoyed by that spot for months. I realized a week later that I didn't notice it and had completely forgotten it was there. Great Scot, this solution works!
If you want to try this—and I make no guarantees—squirt a blob onto some tissue. Gently rub at the spot back and forth. You will notice that some of the paint comes off, but the mark does as well. Let dry. Celebrate and dance.
The Big Boy Update: Yucky. He can say "yucky." And he can say it in the proper situation—when his diaper is yucky. He will tell you his pants are yucky when you're in the middle of changing him. Yeah, we so already had figured that out. I am hoping soon he will be able to tell us he is yucky before we notice. Then I'll really celebrate and dance.
The Tiny Girl Update: She can sit up now. She didn't do the tripod thing like I had expected. She has been practicing so much in the Bumbo seat and the scoot-about that she's got a lot of torso balance. She wobbles all around, but she can stay up for minutes at time. I need to catch this on video. Maybe I'll go do that now.
Right-size Countdown: 1.0 pounds
Monday, May 7, 2012
Pound Pennance
Eleven weeks on the diet today. I have been doing well. I hit my target last week for Monday's weigh-in. But I know you can't just stop dieting when you reach your goal. I really felt I had "just barely" reached my goal. I think I was right.
Right after that low, I bounced up again and I never recovered. Then there were the sea salt caramel brownies and then there was a neighborhood party yesterday with cake. And I can't run for a week because of the eye surgery so I'm not burning the extra calories I would from exercise.
Did you catch the whine in that last paragraph? If you missed it, you're being overly kind. I get frustrated when this happens. If the goal is to lose a pound a week, but you go back a pound, then you've not only wasted a week, you've added another week on the diet. That's two weeks you could have been done dieting that you have to keep slugging through it.
On the other hand, was last week's reading out of line with where I should have been? I don't know. Today I paid "Pound Pennance" and ate less than I would have normally on the diet. It is okay though, I ate enough cake yesterday to make it through the day. I'm pretty sure the caramel was still sticking to my insides from Saturday too.
The Big Boy Update: So many things sound like things. But is he really saying what we think that last string of syllables sounded like? My guess is no, he's baby babbling but we, in our attempt to convert sounds into communication, are hearing what he's saying as words and phrases. Also, mp and broom! We were at the store getting baby food and he was pointing at something hanging on the wall. We assumed it was another ball. Everything is about balls these days, but it was a baby-sized mop and broom. He's been wanting to help out with the housework. Now he has his chance. When we got home he swept bits of the driveway and even cleaned up some of the grass.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Wanting to be involved. She wants to be involved in what you're doing. She reaches for whatever you're holding on to and wants to know what her brother is doing. Her sphere of awareness seems to be larger lately than it was weeks ago. She seems more outward-focused than inward of late.
Right-size countdown: 1.0 pounds to go.
Right after that low, I bounced up again and I never recovered. Then there were the sea salt caramel brownies and then there was a neighborhood party yesterday with cake. And I can't run for a week because of the eye surgery so I'm not burning the extra calories I would from exercise.
Did you catch the whine in that last paragraph? If you missed it, you're being overly kind. I get frustrated when this happens. If the goal is to lose a pound a week, but you go back a pound, then you've not only wasted a week, you've added another week on the diet. That's two weeks you could have been done dieting that you have to keep slugging through it.
On the other hand, was last week's reading out of line with where I should have been? I don't know. Today I paid "Pound Pennance" and ate less than I would have normally on the diet. It is okay though, I ate enough cake yesterday to make it through the day. I'm pretty sure the caramel was still sticking to my insides from Saturday too.
The Big Boy Update: So many things sound like things. But is he really saying what we think that last string of syllables sounded like? My guess is no, he's baby babbling but we, in our attempt to convert sounds into communication, are hearing what he's saying as words and phrases. Also, mp and broom! We were at the store getting baby food and he was pointing at something hanging on the wall. We assumed it was another ball. Everything is about balls these days, but it was a baby-sized mop and broom. He's been wanting to help out with the housework. Now he has his chance. When we got home he swept bits of the driveway and even cleaned up some of the grass.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Wanting to be involved. She wants to be involved in what you're doing. She reaches for whatever you're holding on to and wants to know what her brother is doing. Her sphere of awareness seems to be larger lately than it was weeks ago. She seems more outward-focused than inward of late.
Right-size countdown: 1.0 pounds to go.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Overwrite Is Gone
Do you remember back in the days of "word processors" the Overwrite mode? If you were typing, you would be in insert mode by default, but you could press the insert key and it would change to overwrite mode. Overwrite was great if you wanted to get rid of a bunch of text and didn't feel like pressing the backspace or delete key forever.
This was back in the days before the mouse. Or that's when it started. Over time, we gained the ability to select a large amount of text by highlighting it and just do a single delete. At that point preserving information became more important and a paradigm shift happened where pushing out existing text was better than accidentally deleting something possibly important.
And that's what happened often, right? You wouldn't know you were in overwrite mode and you'd get to typing for a good while. You'd look up to find out you'd written over something gold, something you wouldn't be able to recreate or maybe you weren't even sure what you overwrote. You hoped it wasn't that important. Aruggh.
What about undo? Ctrl+Z you ask? Ah, yes, when undo first came about there was only one level of undo. Ghastly to think about today. At one point I remember discovering I could increase the total number of undos Word allowed I think people thought I was crazy when I told them I'd set it to fifty. But hey, I'm a girl and sometimes I change my mind; I needed those fifty levels.
I had forgotten all about overwrite mode until recently when I decided to try and find it. It may be an option still; I didn't look very hard. At some point hitting insert stopped toggling a logical switch that eradicated existing written content. It's a change I never noticed. A change I wasn't properly thankful for until I thought about overwrite the other day.
The Big Boy Update: Stick and Pail. Some toys are just found items. Today he entertained himself for almost an hour with a broom handle and a red pail. He put the handle into the pail and swished it around. With a helpful suggestion from Grandpa, he could sit on the pail and kick it to make sounds. He drug it around and found some very messy mud. Then he had a bath and a nap.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles. Pretty pretty dress. Nana and Grandpa brought her a little poofed skirt dress from their vacation. Sitting up in the dress smiling made us all grinning fools as we were won over again by her sweet cuteness.
Right-size countdown: 2.8 pounds to go. I had what I would say was my worst day in eleven weeks yesterday. Know that there's no way I could have gained over two pounds in a day, but I do think I overate not only my caloric target for the day, but over my daily caloric needs. It was a party. It was Cinco de Mayo. That wasn't the problem. It was my husband's homemade sea salt caramel brownies!
This was back in the days before the mouse. Or that's when it started. Over time, we gained the ability to select a large amount of text by highlighting it and just do a single delete. At that point preserving information became more important and a paradigm shift happened where pushing out existing text was better than accidentally deleting something possibly important.
And that's what happened often, right? You wouldn't know you were in overwrite mode and you'd get to typing for a good while. You'd look up to find out you'd written over something gold, something you wouldn't be able to recreate or maybe you weren't even sure what you overwrote. You hoped it wasn't that important. Aruggh.
What about undo? Ctrl+Z you ask? Ah, yes, when undo first came about there was only one level of undo. Ghastly to think about today. At one point I remember discovering I could increase the total number of undos Word allowed I think people thought I was crazy when I told them I'd set it to fifty. But hey, I'm a girl and sometimes I change my mind; I needed those fifty levels.
I had forgotten all about overwrite mode until recently when I decided to try and find it. It may be an option still; I didn't look very hard. At some point hitting insert stopped toggling a logical switch that eradicated existing written content. It's a change I never noticed. A change I wasn't properly thankful for until I thought about overwrite the other day.
The Big Boy Update: Stick and Pail. Some toys are just found items. Today he entertained himself for almost an hour with a broom handle and a red pail. He put the handle into the pail and swished it around. With a helpful suggestion from Grandpa, he could sit on the pail and kick it to make sounds. He drug it around and found some very messy mud. Then he had a bath and a nap.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles. Pretty pretty dress. Nana and Grandpa brought her a little poofed skirt dress from their vacation. Sitting up in the dress smiling made us all grinning fools as we were won over again by her sweet cuteness.
Right-size countdown: 2.8 pounds to go. I had what I would say was my worst day in eleven weeks yesterday. Know that there's no way I could have gained over two pounds in a day, but I do think I overate not only my caloric target for the day, but over my daily caloric needs. It was a party. It was Cinco de Mayo. That wasn't the problem. It was my husband's homemade sea salt caramel brownies!
Saturday, May 5, 2012
You Can Pass Now!
Driving down the road this morning I noticed something I take for granted and don't think anything about: the yellow lines in the middle of the road. The most major purpose of them is to make sure you're on your side and the traffic whizzing by in the other direction is keeping to theirs. As important as these yellow lines are, we drive by them every day without giving them much thought.
The yellow lines have another purpose too, they indicate if it's safe to pass. When I was a young child, far too young to drive, I remember asking my parents on a long trip what the yellow lines meant. My father explained that dashed lines on your side indicate it's okay to pass the car in front of you. You were given permission to go on the opposite side of the toad to get around slow-moving traffic When the line was solid on your side, it indicated there wasn't enough visibility or distance to safely pass. How cool is that? Special coded messages to the driver, with lots of math and calculations to determine when the lines were solid and when they were dashed.
I believe I drove my parents a bit batty for the remainder of the drive calling out, "it's okay to pass now." Or, "they can pass on the other side now." And when there was a car in front of us and we had the yellow dashed lines, I failed to understand why we wouldn't exercising our right to pass.and I'd ask why we weren't passing. Eventually I'm sure I was told to can it.
As I was driving to get my son's hair cut this morning it struck me that we see a lot less of the yellow dashed lines now than we did decades ago. Highways have been added and streets expanded to contain multiple lanes so that passing across the middle line isn't allowed. I wonder if my children will ever wonder what the yellow lines mean in the middle of the road?
The Big Boy Update: Haircut. His hair grows so fast. It was only five weeks ago that I got it cut but yesterday it had gotten to a level of shaggy that said, "cut me." His hair doesn't get cut that much, but without that clean-up trim he looks like Raggedy Baby.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Stomach strong. She's doing well sitting up in many situations. She eventually falls over, but she's holding up for longer periods. She can lean way over to one side or the other when she's in the Bumbo seat and pull herself right back up. She has been working her abs trying to get at things she's not suppose to get to, like the container of baby food or yogurt that she grabs and almost spills before you can react.
Right-size Countdown: 1.0 pounds to go.
The yellow lines have another purpose too, they indicate if it's safe to pass. When I was a young child, far too young to drive, I remember asking my parents on a long trip what the yellow lines meant. My father explained that dashed lines on your side indicate it's okay to pass the car in front of you. You were given permission to go on the opposite side of the toad to get around slow-moving traffic When the line was solid on your side, it indicated there wasn't enough visibility or distance to safely pass. How cool is that? Special coded messages to the driver, with lots of math and calculations to determine when the lines were solid and when they were dashed.
I believe I drove my parents a bit batty for the remainder of the drive calling out, "it's okay to pass now." Or, "they can pass on the other side now." And when there was a car in front of us and we had the yellow dashed lines, I failed to understand why we wouldn't exercising our right to pass.and I'd ask why we weren't passing. Eventually I'm sure I was told to can it.
As I was driving to get my son's hair cut this morning it struck me that we see a lot less of the yellow dashed lines now than we did decades ago. Highways have been added and streets expanded to contain multiple lanes so that passing across the middle line isn't allowed. I wonder if my children will ever wonder what the yellow lines mean in the middle of the road?
The Big Boy Update: Haircut. His hair grows so fast. It was only five weeks ago that I got it cut but yesterday it had gotten to a level of shaggy that said, "cut me." His hair doesn't get cut that much, but without that clean-up trim he looks like Raggedy Baby.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Stomach strong. She's doing well sitting up in many situations. She eventually falls over, but she's holding up for longer periods. She can lean way over to one side or the other when she's in the Bumbo seat and pull herself right back up. She has been working her abs trying to get at things she's not suppose to get to, like the container of baby food or yogurt that she grabs and almost spills before you can react.
Right-size Countdown: 1.0 pounds to go.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Spinach: It's No Broccoli
There have been four frozen packages of spinach in the freezer for a long time. Maybe last house long lime. Since we seem to be phased out of spinach, I decided to eat one for dinner last night. I was thinking we might as well use up the spinach and take advantage of the shelf for something else.
My theory was that spinach with a little butter and seasoning like my favorite broccoli would be good. It was not. It was blah. I added more seasoning. That didn't help. I don't have anything against spinach, but after last night's experience I am not putting up fan posters of spinach in my bedroom.
The Big Boy Update: The Brush and The Treadmill. In our mechanical room we have a treadmill. My son found a paintbrush this morning and decided the thing that needed brushing was the treadmill. He brushed it, and brushed it, and brushed it some more.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Charming. My mother and I met, by accident, at the ATM this morning. We decided to head over together and get our nails done. I had my daughter with me and she was held by all the ladies at the nail salon. She endeared herself to almost everyone, even the nice lady she spit up all over.
Right-size countdown: 1.8 pounds to go
My theory was that spinach with a little butter and seasoning like my favorite broccoli would be good. It was not. It was blah. I added more seasoning. That didn't help. I don't have anything against spinach, but after last night's experience I am not putting up fan posters of spinach in my bedroom.
The Big Boy Update: The Brush and The Treadmill. In our mechanical room we have a treadmill. My son found a paintbrush this morning and decided the thing that needed brushing was the treadmill. He brushed it, and brushed it, and brushed it some more.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Charming. My mother and I met, by accident, at the ATM this morning. We decided to head over together and get our nails done. I had my daughter with me and she was held by all the ladies at the nail salon. She endeared herself to almost everyone, even the nice lady she spit up all over.
Right-size countdown: 1.8 pounds to go
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Who Writes the Dictionary Definitions?
I don't know who writes the dictionary definitions, but they do a superb job. I know lots of words. I can correctly and successfully use them in a sentence. I can even give a synonym of many words when asked. But I am appalling when it comes to giving a true definition.
The reason I'm so frequently impressed by the definitions I read for words, and yes, I tend to look up words a lot in case you were wondering, is because the definition is always exact, succinct, and uses just the words I couldn't come up with as a definition.
I am filled both with a sense of satisfaction (because I now know how to clearly define a word,) and frustrated (because, "I knew that, I just couldn't figure out how to say it.")
I like making a distinction between connotation and denotation with words which regularly has me pulling up the dictionary app. Usually finding out exactly what a word means, (the denotation,) instead of the imagery the word brings to mind (the connotation,) is one of the reasons I like words and language so much.
Another one of my goals is to use words I look up. Knowing what something means and then forgetting it until you run into it again isn't incorporating it into your vocabulary. This is a goal I regularly fail to meet.
The Big Boy Update: Picky and "The No." Or something like that. He is trying to communicate about his food and eating. It involves a lot of pushing things away, which may not mean it doesn't like the item, just that he is done or is thirsty, or wants something else right now. Sometimes it involves throwing. Okay, more than sometimes. Reading his limited communication is a challenge that will continue until he can talk more. And working on the throwing. Coming up with positive ways to deal with throwing anything is always a challenge.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Nine month clothes. She isn't quite six months but she's growing and can fit into nine month clothes with a little extra room. I retired all the six month clothes and have passed on a good number of them to a friend who has a daughter four months younger today. I had to save the outfits with special meaning or memories. I tried to be selective, but I saved more than I expected.
Right-size Countdown: 1.6 pounds to go
The reason I'm so frequently impressed by the definitions I read for words, and yes, I tend to look up words a lot in case you were wondering, is because the definition is always exact, succinct, and uses just the words I couldn't come up with as a definition.
I am filled both with a sense of satisfaction (because I now know how to clearly define a word,) and frustrated (because, "I knew that, I just couldn't figure out how to say it.")
I like making a distinction between connotation and denotation with words which regularly has me pulling up the dictionary app. Usually finding out exactly what a word means, (the denotation,) instead of the imagery the word brings to mind (the connotation,) is one of the reasons I like words and language so much.
Another one of my goals is to use words I look up. Knowing what something means and then forgetting it until you run into it again isn't incorporating it into your vocabulary. This is a goal I regularly fail to meet.
The Big Boy Update: Picky and "The No." Or something like that. He is trying to communicate about his food and eating. It involves a lot of pushing things away, which may not mean it doesn't like the item, just that he is done or is thirsty, or wants something else right now. Sometimes it involves throwing. Okay, more than sometimes. Reading his limited communication is a challenge that will continue until he can talk more. And working on the throwing. Coming up with positive ways to deal with throwing anything is always a challenge.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Nine month clothes. She isn't quite six months but she's growing and can fit into nine month clothes with a little extra room. I retired all the six month clothes and have passed on a good number of them to a friend who has a daughter four months younger today. I had to save the outfits with special meaning or memories. I tried to be selective, but I saved more than I expected.
Right-size Countdown: 1.6 pounds to go
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Bluzzy
The eye surgery went well. As far as I can tell. Everything right now is bluzzy. It's blurry and fuzzy and I can't tell if I'm even typing things correctly. My eye is still very dilated, it's pretty interesting to look at, it looks like my one eye is really intently gazing at you.
The halos and blur are expected and normal at this point. I think I can tell that the vision will be much better once the dilation has subsided and the lens settles in. For now, I have been instructed to use reading glasses to see anything closer than arms length. This is so the lens will have a chance to settle in, before I begin to work it to focus on near vision items.
When I spoke with the doctor today prior to the surgery he said that I should expect to have my vision improve significantly within the first month. After that, because I'll still be working and training my eye to use the lens as optimally as possible, I may continue to see improvements for the next year or even longer. That sounds like an exciting proposition to me, to have a vision project, to try and get the best results out of the lens implants.
Bending over, arugh. I have very few restrictions post-surgery, but one is to not bend over today. Do you have any idea how often you bend over with two small children? I think it must be an average of every seven seconds I'm catching myself (or realizing afterwards) that I'm not suppose to be bending over.
He said I could be back to lifting the children tomorrow and continuing my 5K training in a week. Tomorrow I hope to see much more clearly. And the next day. And the day after that.
The Big Boy Update: Constipated. Again. We've toned down the fruit snacks, because they were definitely giving him problems. But we're not sure what's missing (or being added) that's giving him grief today. Tomorrow, focus on fiber.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She is definitely able to sit up for longer periods without falling over now. She needs a little surrounding pillow help, but she can lean all the way forward, pick up something and then sit back up without falling onto her face.
Right-size Countdown: 1.6 pounds to go.
The halos and blur are expected and normal at this point. I think I can tell that the vision will be much better once the dilation has subsided and the lens settles in. For now, I have been instructed to use reading glasses to see anything closer than arms length. This is so the lens will have a chance to settle in, before I begin to work it to focus on near vision items.
When I spoke with the doctor today prior to the surgery he said that I should expect to have my vision improve significantly within the first month. After that, because I'll still be working and training my eye to use the lens as optimally as possible, I may continue to see improvements for the next year or even longer. That sounds like an exciting proposition to me, to have a vision project, to try and get the best results out of the lens implants.
Bending over, arugh. I have very few restrictions post-surgery, but one is to not bend over today. Do you have any idea how often you bend over with two small children? I think it must be an average of every seven seconds I'm catching myself (or realizing afterwards) that I'm not suppose to be bending over.
He said I could be back to lifting the children tomorrow and continuing my 5K training in a week. Tomorrow I hope to see much more clearly. And the next day. And the day after that.
The Big Boy Update: Constipated. Again. We've toned down the fruit snacks, because they were definitely giving him problems. But we're not sure what's missing (or being added) that's giving him grief today. Tomorrow, focus on fiber.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She is definitely able to sit up for longer periods without falling over now. She needs a little surrounding pillow help, but she can lean all the way forward, pick up something and then sit back up without falling onto her face.
Right-size Countdown: 1.6 pounds to go.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
A Day of Ocular Appreciation
Tomorrow I go in to have corrective eye surgery on my left eye. I'll follow it up in a month with the same procedure on the right eye. The eyes are such small things, but they're so important. I am anxious. That's fair. But I'm also excited.
I've been wanting to get my eyes surgically corrected for several years now. I was told at an initial evaluation that I wasn't a candidate for LASIK because of the type of vision I have. LASIK wouldn't help me, or if it did, the results would most likely be less than satisfactory and would more than likely partially revert over time.
However, there is another procedure they would highly recommend, as soon as I was done having children as my vision needed to be stable. It was more complicated, but it had longer, much longer, benefits. I was sold. But I had to hurry up and wait.
The procedure is lens replacement. The procedure was pioneered for people who have cataracts and are losing their vision. However, it is a fantastic solution to people who have vision like mine, and are also presbiopic, meaning the lens is hardening and doesn't focus nearly as well as it used to.
I'll also need a little Astigmatic Keratotomy for my astigmatism. So, multiple things are going down in my eye tomorrow.
So yes, anxiety. This is non-reversible. But the results are overwhelmingly convincing that not only will have better vision far, near and middle-range. I won't ever have cataracts and won't need reading glasses as this artificial lens won't harden.
I have dubbed today, "Ocular Appreciation Day." I'm not wearing my glasses, and that means my eyes are not only not resting, they're working harder to try see the blasted screen on which I'm currently writing as well as everything else around me.
While I would love nothing more than to be able to take a screenshot, picture, image, rendering or my current vision, I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see how it plays out. However, unlike LASIK, the results aren't immediate. Your eye has to adjust to the new lens and you have to train your eye muscles to work with it. So in a month I should be at optimal vision...in the left eye...just in time to accost the right eye with the same surgery.
The Big Boy Update: Touching the TV. We were in a room today with an older television. We don't spend a lot of time in there and I don't think my son has ever seen the TV turned on there before. It's on a low shelf and he could touch the TV. He spent a lot of time with slobbery fingers trying to touch Weird Al Yancovich in the Yo Gabba Gabba episode.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: So cute. When she's not crying. So cute. When she's sleeping. So cute. Almost all of the time. Heck, even her cry is cute.
Right-size Countdown: 2.8 pounds to go. SEE! One blooming day at my weight-loss goal and boom, I pack on the pounds. I didn't overeat, I ate like I would have if I had ten more pounds to go, but my body knew. Pfft.
I've been wanting to get my eyes surgically corrected for several years now. I was told at an initial evaluation that I wasn't a candidate for LASIK because of the type of vision I have. LASIK wouldn't help me, or if it did, the results would most likely be less than satisfactory and would more than likely partially revert over time.
However, there is another procedure they would highly recommend, as soon as I was done having children as my vision needed to be stable. It was more complicated, but it had longer, much longer, benefits. I was sold. But I had to hurry up and wait.
The procedure is lens replacement. The procedure was pioneered for people who have cataracts and are losing their vision. However, it is a fantastic solution to people who have vision like mine, and are also presbiopic, meaning the lens is hardening and doesn't focus nearly as well as it used to.
I'll also need a little Astigmatic Keratotomy for my astigmatism. So, multiple things are going down in my eye tomorrow.
So yes, anxiety. This is non-reversible. But the results are overwhelmingly convincing that not only will have better vision far, near and middle-range. I won't ever have cataracts and won't need reading glasses as this artificial lens won't harden.
I have dubbed today, "Ocular Appreciation Day." I'm not wearing my glasses, and that means my eyes are not only not resting, they're working harder to try see the blasted screen on which I'm currently writing as well as everything else around me.
While I would love nothing more than to be able to take a screenshot, picture, image, rendering or my current vision, I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see how it plays out. However, unlike LASIK, the results aren't immediate. Your eye has to adjust to the new lens and you have to train your eye muscles to work with it. So in a month I should be at optimal vision...in the left eye...just in time to accost the right eye with the same surgery.
The Big Boy Update: Touching the TV. We were in a room today with an older television. We don't spend a lot of time in there and I don't think my son has ever seen the TV turned on there before. It's on a low shelf and he could touch the TV. He spent a lot of time with slobbery fingers trying to touch Weird Al Yancovich in the Yo Gabba Gabba episode.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: So cute. When she's not crying. So cute. When she's sleeping. So cute. Almost all of the time. Heck, even her cry is cute.
Right-size Countdown: 2.8 pounds to go. SEE! One blooming day at my weight-loss goal and boom, I pack on the pounds. I didn't overeat, I ate like I would have if I had ten more pounds to go, but my body knew. Pfft.
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