Today N and I had an episode that was Laurel and Hardy-like. Earlier in the day, she had her friend B over for a visit. After B left, I told N we needed to straighten up the basement, and she was responsible for putting the dress-up costumes away.
As we were winding down, I told her to pick up the crown by her foot. She looked down and said, "Where is it?" Seeing that the crown was like 2 inches from her foot, I said, "Right there, next to your foot." Again, she looked down and said, "I don't see it." Thinking she was trying to trick me, which is her latest thing (I'm just trickin' ya, Mom), I bent down so I could see her mischievous little eyes. But she had a completely serious look on her face. So I thought, Is she going blind? I said again, "N, it is right by your foot!" Still no dice. OH MY GOD, she is JUST LIKE HER FATHER who can't see ketchup sitting on the refrigerator shelf directly in front of his face.
So I pick up the crown and wave it in front of her face. "This crown, N," I said. "Ohhh, you meant crown. I thought you said crayon," she replied.
Either I need a diction teacher or she needs her ears de-waxified.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Oreo addiction and the weekend
I bought Oreos on Thursday night to take with us on Friday when we went to the Cincinnati Zoo. Bad, bad, bad idea. So much for the weight I lost as a result of breastfeeding.
The Zoo was fun and tiring. N liked the polar bear exhibit, and G really enjoyed seeing the anteaters. They were frenetic, which kept him thoroughly entertained. I think he thought they were really big and ugly cats. N was mesmerized by the vampire bats, as they were hanging over the edge of a bowl lapping up what I assume to be cow's blood.
I would post pictures but the hard drive on our picture center computer died so I ain't touching it until D puts in a new hard drive and has everything sufficiently backed up.
On Saturday, D was Mr. Fixit---rehanging my swing on the patio, replacing the broken outlet cover on the patio, moving the printer and getting all the laptops to print remotely. Cool.
Yesterday we spent most of the day at my MIL because G didn't go down for a nap until almost 2:00...and then proceeded to sleep way longer than he normally does. D cut grass and I cleaned windows and screens upon returning home.
G has cut his 3rd tooth and turned 8 months today. He's doing the "humpin" move on his hands and knees with regularity. N has been consuming entirely too many Oreos and brownies, which proves that although she looks nothing like me she has my sweet tooth and is, therefore, truly my daughter.
Well--gotta go. There are still some Oreos in the pantry.
The Zoo was fun and tiring. N liked the polar bear exhibit, and G really enjoyed seeing the anteaters. They were frenetic, which kept him thoroughly entertained. I think he thought they were really big and ugly cats. N was mesmerized by the vampire bats, as they were hanging over the edge of a bowl lapping up what I assume to be cow's blood.
I would post pictures but the hard drive on our picture center computer died so I ain't touching it until D puts in a new hard drive and has everything sufficiently backed up.
On Saturday, D was Mr. Fixit---rehanging my swing on the patio, replacing the broken outlet cover on the patio, moving the printer and getting all the laptops to print remotely. Cool.
Yesterday we spent most of the day at my MIL because G didn't go down for a nap until almost 2:00...and then proceeded to sleep way longer than he normally does. D cut grass and I cleaned windows and screens upon returning home.
G has cut his 3rd tooth and turned 8 months today. He's doing the "humpin" move on his hands and knees with regularity. N has been consuming entirely too many Oreos and brownies, which proves that although she looks nothing like me she has my sweet tooth and is, therefore, truly my daughter.
Well--gotta go. There are still some Oreos in the pantry.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Junk email
My parents send me jokes and other junk-like emails all the time. Despite having a close relationship with my parents and talking to my mom nearly everyday, they somehow forget that I have 2 small children and therefore not a whole lot of time to read my legitimate email, nevermind all the prayer chain letters, jokes and sundry bits they forward to me.
But I deal.
Somehow, though, my aunt M has gotten wind of my email address and now she is sending me a godzillion prayer chain letters, jokes and sundry bits. Good god!
I'm being electronically assaulted by retired folks with nothing better to do than gunk up my inbox.
And me being the OCD freak I am feel guilty about deleting emails that people send me that I haven't read, even if I know its just gobbledy-gook. As if the emails themselves care whether they get read or not. As if my parents or aunt M even remember what they sent me. (Honestly, when I was a kid I would read every comic strip in the paper because I didn't want to hurt the feelings of the ones I didn't want to read, like Apartment 3-G. I should have been put on ADs at age 10).
So help me, if any of my other relatives find out my email address I'm gonna go into hiding.
But I deal.
Somehow, though, my aunt M has gotten wind of my email address and now she is sending me a godzillion prayer chain letters, jokes and sundry bits. Good god!
I'm being electronically assaulted by retired folks with nothing better to do than gunk up my inbox.
And me being the OCD freak I am feel guilty about deleting emails that people send me that I haven't read, even if I know its just gobbledy-gook. As if the emails themselves care whether they get read or not. As if my parents or aunt M even remember what they sent me. (Honestly, when I was a kid I would read every comic strip in the paper because I didn't want to hurt the feelings of the ones I didn't want to read, like Apartment 3-G. I should have been put on ADs at age 10).
So help me, if any of my other relatives find out my email address I'm gonna go into hiding.
Plugged
Yesterday I noticed my chest was hurting me whenever I picked G up, but it wasn't until late in the day that I realized the discomfort is a plugged milk duct. Crap. So I've been compressing to try to make it go away. I've started on lecithin so hopefully that will help. (I swear I take so much stuff for my breasts---B6, evening primrose, now lecithin).
I got plugged ducts when N was nearly 8 months too--I guess adding more solids really does a number on my ample milk supply or something. It isn't painful...just annoying. And the fact that it hasn't gone away instantly makes my OCD kick into high gear. It is like I have no control over my "teenage boy" hands --they just keep checking my boob to see if the plug has dissipated.
Unfortunately, in addition to the physical annoyance of the duct, it is also playing some psychological games with me.
That darn plugged duct I had with N was, in part, what helped launch me headlong into my breakdown in 2004.
Right around that time someone sent me one of those emails about the "rash" form of breast cancer (since it was in October--Breast Cancer Awareness Month). My breast was bothering me....and then I started having shooting pains after nursing N (ultimately diagnosed with a ductal yeast infection). I was convinced I had breast cancer---saw numerous dermatologists, had a nipple biopsy and still continued to nurse ( which is why I don't have a whole lot of patience for women who whine about how painful breastfeeding is and give up after 3 days of it and don't have stitches on their aereolas with which to contend ). Eventually saw a breast surgeon and had a breast ultrasound. Eventually was put on the right dose of medication to help alleviate my anxiety and lessen my OCD.
So this new plugged duct brings with it lots and lots of unpleasant memories. I thought I was "over" this...I thought I had moved on. But the breast discomfort has unlocked the brain compartment where I stored everything I thought and felt from that time. So I've been having lots of internal "chats" with myself: Carrie, it will go away. Carrie, it is not breast cancer. Carrie, you survived all this once you can survive a little plugged duct.
I guess if there is anything good about having a plugged duct and reliving some of this crud, it makes me really, really glad I have my medication. For a long time I mentally "fought" having to take my antidepressant and stewed over how long I might have to take it. Revisiting my breakdown reminds me how much I need my medication and that I need it for the long-haul.
I got plugged ducts when N was nearly 8 months too--I guess adding more solids really does a number on my ample milk supply or something. It isn't painful...just annoying. And the fact that it hasn't gone away instantly makes my OCD kick into high gear. It is like I have no control over my "teenage boy" hands --they just keep checking my boob to see if the plug has dissipated.
Unfortunately, in addition to the physical annoyance of the duct, it is also playing some psychological games with me.
That darn plugged duct I had with N was, in part, what helped launch me headlong into my breakdown in 2004.
Right around that time someone sent me one of those emails about the "rash" form of breast cancer (since it was in October--Breast Cancer Awareness Month). My breast was bothering me....and then I started having shooting pains after nursing N (ultimately diagnosed with a ductal yeast infection). I was convinced I had breast cancer---saw numerous dermatologists, had a nipple biopsy and still continued to nurse ( which is why I don't have a whole lot of patience for women who whine about how painful breastfeeding is and give up after 3 days of it and don't have stitches on their aereolas with which to contend ). Eventually saw a breast surgeon and had a breast ultrasound. Eventually was put on the right dose of medication to help alleviate my anxiety and lessen my OCD.
So this new plugged duct brings with it lots and lots of unpleasant memories. I thought I was "over" this...I thought I had moved on. But the breast discomfort has unlocked the brain compartment where I stored everything I thought and felt from that time. So I've been having lots of internal "chats" with myself: Carrie, it will go away. Carrie, it is not breast cancer. Carrie, you survived all this once you can survive a little plugged duct.
I guess if there is anything good about having a plugged duct and reliving some of this crud, it makes me really, really glad I have my medication. For a long time I mentally "fought" having to take my antidepressant and stewed over how long I might have to take it. Revisiting my breakdown reminds me how much I need my medication and that I need it for the long-haul.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
N funnies
- N loves to type on the laptop. It is all just jibberish, although occasionally she will type her name. She has learned our phone number so sometimes she pecks those digits out. Yesterday I let her type. While she was busy working, I made the mistake of asking her a question while she was deeply engaged in smacking the keys. She said, "Mommy, stop inter-bothering me." Uh, ok.
- Today, while driving her to swim class, I came upon a driver who had pulled out and was blocking the left lane in her attempt to get into the right lane. Given that I am 1. sleep-deprived and 2. we were really running late, I said something on the order of "What an idiot!"
It was at this point that I was reprimanded by a certain 4-year-old in the backseat that it is not nice to call people names. In her words, "We don't call people idiots, Mommy." Which then prompted me to explain how it was dangerous what the woman driving that car did (and really honkin stupid, but I left that part out). But I also noted that it is not nice to call people names even when they do things that aren't very smart.
Fog
I hate days when I feel I'm in a fog. It is depressing.
Today's fog is a result of G teething and therefore being an even worse sleeper than he already is. I didn't think it was possible, but we are back to waking every 2-3 hours to either be awake and miserable or nurse in a futile attempt to make the gum pain ease. I feel confident I will sleep when he has cut all his baby teeth by age 2, so only 16 more months to go. Yah.
My brain is muddled.
N had her last day of preschool picnic at the park, so in addition to my brain being addled by fatigue, my arms are tired from holding Monstro Baby in one arm and pushing N on the swing with the other.
And there is this goddamn bumblebee who continues to fly around our deck and make it impossible for us to enjoy our deck furniture (which I normally would find only slightly irritating, but when I am this tired it just drives me fricking batty).
Maybe tomorrow will be better.
Today's fog is a result of G teething and therefore being an even worse sleeper than he already is. I didn't think it was possible, but we are back to waking every 2-3 hours to either be awake and miserable or nurse in a futile attempt to make the gum pain ease. I feel confident I will sleep when he has cut all his baby teeth by age 2, so only 16 more months to go. Yah.
My brain is muddled.
N had her last day of preschool picnic at the park, so in addition to my brain being addled by fatigue, my arms are tired from holding Monstro Baby in one arm and pushing N on the swing with the other.
And there is this goddamn bumblebee who continues to fly around our deck and make it impossible for us to enjoy our deck furniture (which I normally would find only slightly irritating, but when I am this tired it just drives me fricking batty).
Maybe tomorrow will be better.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Happy Mother's Day to me
Since it is Mother's Day, I thought I'd post a reminder to myself of why I am a good mom (since I sometimes have my doubts).
1. I have never hit my children, stuck them in microwaves, left them in the car unattended so I could watch and bet on the Derby, thrown them off an overpass, or allowed Annie Leibowitz to take racy photos of them in bed linens.
2. They are well-fed, sheltered, and given a bath at least once a week (I'm trying to conserve water).
3. They are hugged and kissed multiple times a day.
4. I play games like Naked Barbie Party with N and engage in other goofy fun to please her even when my brain is dribbling out my ear from boredom. (The male doll was soooo having a good time at this party!!!!)
5. I continue to breastfeed G even when he uses my nipple as a piece of rawhide on which to ease his aching gums.
6. I haven't run off to join the circus as an elephant poop-scooper, which sometimes seems like it might be a little easier and only slightly more gross than being a full-time mom.
I was gonna do a top-1o list, but after having a frozen margarita at the Mexican restaurant where I requested to go for Mother's Day, I can barely keep my eyes open. So 6 reasons why I am a good mom. Oh wait, I just thought of another one:
7. I SIMPLY ADORE THE LITTLE BUGGERS!
1. I have never hit my children, stuck them in microwaves, left them in the car unattended so I could watch and bet on the Derby, thrown them off an overpass, or allowed Annie Leibowitz to take racy photos of them in bed linens.
2. They are well-fed, sheltered, and given a bath at least once a week (I'm trying to conserve water).
3. They are hugged and kissed multiple times a day.
4. I play games like Naked Barbie Party with N and engage in other goofy fun to please her even when my brain is dribbling out my ear from boredom. (The male doll was soooo having a good time at this party!!!!)
5. I continue to breastfeed G even when he uses my nipple as a piece of rawhide on which to ease his aching gums.
6. I haven't run off to join the circus as an elephant poop-scooper, which sometimes seems like it might be a little easier and only slightly more gross than being a full-time mom.
I was gonna do a top-1o list, but after having a frozen margarita at the Mexican restaurant where I requested to go for Mother's Day, I can barely keep my eyes open. So 6 reasons why I am a good mom. Oh wait, I just thought of another one:
7. I SIMPLY ADORE THE LITTLE BUGGERS!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Temper, temper
I must be getting close to having regular periods again because I have been having these irritable "spells." Of course, these spells only seem to happen around 7:00 pm when I have been awake and tending to the kids for 13+ hours without a break. Hmmmmm. I probably shouldn't worry about stocking up on pantiliners just yet.
A few weeks ago we purchased deck furniture. Real deck furniture---not plastic stuff. A table, 6 chairs and an umbrella. D has been saying that we need deck furniture for about as long as we've been married, so we finally got some. (I had never wanted deck furniture for a number of reasons but mostly because D doesn't even like the outdoors so I totally didn't expect that he'd use it so why drop a chunk of change?) However, now that we have it, I am determined to use it.
And so tonight we attempted for the 2nd time to eat dinner outside but the fates were against my plan to utilize the furniture. The sun was in our eyes, N was screaming and crying out of fear of a rogue bee who keeps flying near our deck, and G was screaming to be put to bed. D was mostly quiet although he mentioned again, just as he did the first time we ate dinner outside on the new furniture, that we'll really only be able to eat lunch out there because of the way the sun shines in the evening. (Ahem, we didn't pay $500+ to only be able to eat lunch out on the furniture. I expect to be able to have breakfast, morning snack, lunch, afternoon snack, dinner, dessert and after-dinner drinks on that furniture).
Suffice it to say, the 3 of them were bouncing on my last nerve.
So we come into the house and I leave D and N to finish their supper, while I take G upstairs to nurse and get him into bed. But no, the tap dance on my nerve isn't over because N comes into G's room, startling him which makes him choke on breastmilk and then cry even more because now he has been awakened from his milk-feeding stupor. I don't know what she is saying because G is fussing so much. I told her, "Go downstairs. Let me get him to bed," so she left again, only to come back into the room less than 2 minutes later, getting G even more riled up.
I am PISSED!!!! G is fussing, N is bugging the crap outta me, and I have no clue where D is and why he isn't keeping N from harassing me while I'm trying to get G to sleep. And on top of it all, we've spent $500+ on deck furniture that we are probably never gonna use which is why I fought buying it for as long as I did!!!!! DAMMIT!!!!!!!!
Fortunately, I don't cuss but when I get mad like this I just growl (which actually may be more terrifying for the kids, seeing their mother turn into a werewolf). Arghhhhhhh! Grrrrrrrrrr! Hrggggggggggg!
I set G into his crib and his wailing get louder. I go get N and tell her to go downstairs (fortunately, by this time, D is at the top of the steps and carries her downstairs so I don't launch into expletives at her...and him for not keeping her downstairs to begin with).
I know D probably thinks I need to have my medication adjusted but this is the 2nd time today that N has interrupted me when I'm trying to nurse G and get him to sleep. Earlier, she had a friend over, brought her friend into G's room while I was nursing him to tell me she needed a push on the swing. Good God!!!!
I have tried explaining to her that G gets too distracted in the living room with her and the tv and the light so I take him into the darkness and quiet of his room so he'll nurse and go to sleep. But all this flies directly over her head because all she cares about is that I am with G and not with her.
There. I feel better.
I have to remind myself that I am human and that it's normal to get frustrated. And don't feel overwhelmed with guilt because of it.
At least I didn't leave my 2 month old in the car at the off-track betting facility so I could watch the Derby. As much as I hate reading news blurbs about parents like this, I do feel much better about parenting, even when I get aggravated.
A few weeks ago we purchased deck furniture. Real deck furniture---not plastic stuff. A table, 6 chairs and an umbrella. D has been saying that we need deck furniture for about as long as we've been married, so we finally got some. (I had never wanted deck furniture for a number of reasons but mostly because D doesn't even like the outdoors so I totally didn't expect that he'd use it so why drop a chunk of change?) However, now that we have it, I am determined to use it.
And so tonight we attempted for the 2nd time to eat dinner outside but the fates were against my plan to utilize the furniture. The sun was in our eyes, N was screaming and crying out of fear of a rogue bee who keeps flying near our deck, and G was screaming to be put to bed. D was mostly quiet although he mentioned again, just as he did the first time we ate dinner outside on the new furniture, that we'll really only be able to eat lunch out there because of the way the sun shines in the evening. (Ahem, we didn't pay $500+ to only be able to eat lunch out on the furniture. I expect to be able to have breakfast, morning snack, lunch, afternoon snack, dinner, dessert and after-dinner drinks on that furniture).
Suffice it to say, the 3 of them were bouncing on my last nerve.
So we come into the house and I leave D and N to finish their supper, while I take G upstairs to nurse and get him into bed. But no, the tap dance on my nerve isn't over because N comes into G's room, startling him which makes him choke on breastmilk and then cry even more because now he has been awakened from his milk-feeding stupor. I don't know what she is saying because G is fussing so much. I told her, "Go downstairs. Let me get him to bed," so she left again, only to come back into the room less than 2 minutes later, getting G even more riled up.
I am PISSED!!!! G is fussing, N is bugging the crap outta me, and I have no clue where D is and why he isn't keeping N from harassing me while I'm trying to get G to sleep. And on top of it all, we've spent $500+ on deck furniture that we are probably never gonna use which is why I fought buying it for as long as I did!!!!! DAMMIT!!!!!!!!
Fortunately, I don't cuss but when I get mad like this I just growl (which actually may be more terrifying for the kids, seeing their mother turn into a werewolf). Arghhhhhhh! Grrrrrrrrrr! Hrggggggggggg!
I set G into his crib and his wailing get louder. I go get N and tell her to go downstairs (fortunately, by this time, D is at the top of the steps and carries her downstairs so I don't launch into expletives at her...and him for not keeping her downstairs to begin with).
I know D probably thinks I need to have my medication adjusted but this is the 2nd time today that N has interrupted me when I'm trying to nurse G and get him to sleep. Earlier, she had a friend over, brought her friend into G's room while I was nursing him to tell me she needed a push on the swing. Good God!!!!
I have tried explaining to her that G gets too distracted in the living room with her and the tv and the light so I take him into the darkness and quiet of his room so he'll nurse and go to sleep. But all this flies directly over her head because all she cares about is that I am with G and not with her.
There. I feel better.
I have to remind myself that I am human and that it's normal to get frustrated. And don't feel overwhelmed with guilt because of it.
At least I didn't leave my 2 month old in the car at the off-track betting facility so I could watch the Derby. As much as I hate reading news blurbs about parents like this, I do feel much better about parenting, even when I get aggravated.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)