Feb
8
The World According to the Peevish Kitty
Feb
8
Both Stinkerbelle and I have colds. And we’re stuck inside because it is cold outside.
So I give you: randomness from my day.
Feb
5
Things I Don’t Like About Being a Parent of a Toddler in Winter:
Things That I Love About Being a Parent of a Toddler in Winter:
Feb
4
We are home from our holiday. Sad it’s over and had a lovely time, as always, but glad to be home. I think that’s always the way.
And now, I am sitting and trying to plan how to get caught up on a bunch of stuff. Why is it, when you go on holiday, there’s always so much stuff to do when you get back? Even when you had cleaned before you left, so you would be able to come home to a nice clean house?
There’s so much to do, sometimes it’s hard to know where to start. So I am sitting down to plan, to make lists.
When we got home from Ethiopia, it took months — YES, MONTHS — to get our suitcases unpacked and put away. MONTHS. Granted, there was a lot of stuff going on, what with a new little person living here, and me being sick as a sick thing that is really sick, and the endless tired that comes with infant-induced sleep deprivation. But we swore we would never let it take that long to get ourselves re-settled again.
Then we had vacations last spring and summer, and it took for-freaking-ever to get the laundry done and the suitcases put away again.
Oh well. At least it wasn’t months.
So one of the things on our to-do list is to get the suitcases emptied and stuff put away and the laundry done as soon as possible. That will be a task with Busy Toddler Helper shadowing me all day, but maybe we can get some stuff done. And then we have to go get a few groceries, because while we were gone all our milk went off, and we have a mostly-empty fridge. I also have to think about this week’s meals, so it will be a bigger shop than we would probably like. And then there’s some cleaning to be done. Well, there’s a LOT of cleaning to be done, but that’s a long-standing project from before we left and it’s unlikely we’ll make much of a dent in it just now, but we’ll see.
There’s some life stuff to get done, too. I have photos to organize and transfer and post, to catch up on the last few days. Also, I was not great on blogging, but I opted to relax on holiday and so I have to catch up on what I missed.
After that, everyday life stuff begins. We’re on day 35 of our 100 Day Challenge, so there’s exercising to do. I am also part of a 30 Day Yoga Challenge, so I have to do a bit of yoga as well. I have to look through our bills and finances and see what’s what, and as well we have to get some financial papers organized and sent off to our financial advisor, who we met with while on vacation.
Lists are DEFINITELY in order. LOTS OF LISTS.
But on top of all this, do you know what my HIGHEST priority is? The very first, absolute top of my list of things to do?
REMEMBER WHERE I PUT MY FREAKING NOTEPAD WHERE I USUALLY WRITE ALL MY LISTS.
Jan
30
So, I have been lax in posting while on my vacay. Let me tell you a little story.
The Story of Why I Was Not Posting
by Me.
Whenever we travel to Grammy and Grandad’s house, Stinkerbelle takes some time to get acclimatized. She plays shy with everyone, but warms up soon enough. She gets familiar with the house really quickly, enough so that she likes to roam around and asks to climb the stairs and knows where the toys are in the kitchen and runs round and round the kitchen island. And she thinks Grammy and Grandad’s yard and deck are THE GREATEST PLACE IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE.
But she is not so sure about her bedroom.
The first night, after travelling all day, she takes some time to run off any excess energy and eat and then, generally, crashes. She sleeps pretty hard that first night, waking and crying occasionally, but normally it’s just a bit of fussing and she’s so tired she quickly dozes off again until morning.
The second night is when she is NOT HAPPY WITH THIS ROOM. AT ALL.
Every time we visit, the second night, when she is overtired and overstimulated and just generally wigging out, is a bad night. Sometimes it is the third night, but usually it’s the second. It happened her first Christmas, when she was up all night Christmas Eve, which was, coincidentally, the second or third night we were here. It happened when we drove down. It happened in the Summer of Cold and Discontent when we visited and spent 10 days indoors to avoid the cold and bugs.
And Thursday night? Was no exception.
That Baby crashed early, rocked by her Grammy, and that gave us a great opportunity to enjoy the last of the mild weather and go for a walk, because a storm was due to blow in overnight and into Friday morning. So we took advantage of that, and walked to get our exercise in. It was a beautiful evening, and the snow was only just starting, so we were out for quite a while. We got home and carried Stinkerbelle up to bed, and we sat up and watched a little TV, and then went to bed sometime after 11:30.
Only to have the Second Night Not Sleeping Festivities begin about 15 minutes after we got to sleep.
Stinkerbelle screamed and wailed and cried. She was scared of her new room and the new noises and the new crib. She was only content enough to sleep when she was being held. She fussed and asked for milk and tried to stay up.
She was successful. I got about an hour and a half sleep while BDH spelled me off. But then at around 4:30 her hysteria was reaching a crescendo, and BDH was tired and frazzled to the point of being really upset and so I strongarmed him off to bed. I took That Baby into her room, and calmed her down, and managed to sing her to sleep. And she had worn herself out enough that I was able to get her into her crib without waking sometime around 5:45.
I snuck back to my bedroom and got ready to crash. But then I looked outside.
There was supposed to be a storm coming in. But this was not a storm. It was beautiful.
I looked out at trees in which every branch was absolutely coated in snow. There was fluffy snow covering the ground and the property and the land beyond. It was absolutely still and quiet. It was breathtaking.
I thought for a moment about going out and trying to take some pictures. But I have never tried night-time photography before. And it was pretty chilly in just my jammies, so I would have to get dressed. And I didn’t want to wake the house by going in and out. And, oh yeah, I was not only tired from travelling, but I had been up ALMOST ALL NIGHT.
I chose to go to bed, and would take photos in the morning.
I woke at 9, and got up to get That Baby up and back on schedule. And OMGWTFSTORM!
The storm was in full-on blowy and cold mode outside. Wind whipped in sounding like a freight train. Snow was blowing everywhere. My winter wonderland was gone.
One one hand, I regretted not taking those pictures the night before, but I was glad to have gotten a couple of hours sleep.
The rest of the day, we were hunkered down staying warm and grabbing naps where we could. And then last night, we opted to go up the road and have a little Wii fun with the family. So no photos or posts got done then either.
And then we came home and went to bed and slept hard for a billion. And now it is as cold as a freezing thing that is way below zero so I am staying in where it is warm but I am rested so NOW I can post. YOU — YES YOU — are my top priority today.
Well, you, and some wine and a crackling fire and some doro wat.
Also, I have many pictures.
The End.
Jan
27
So, we’re getting ready for a little vacation this week. We are, as usual, overpacking.
BDH and I are sharing a suitcase, and that includes my CPAP. But let me tell you, That Baby’s gear? Takes up a WHOLE suitcase and then some. If it’s not a snowsuit and boots and toys and blankies and loveys and bottles taking up a billion space, then it’s the fact that kids this age can go through 2 and 3 outfits in a day, what with the peeing and the explosive pooping and the “oops-lookit-that-if-you-tip-a-bowl-of-yogurt-over-it-DOES-run-out-all-over-you”-ness. So you have to pack for that eventuality, too.
What we need is a suitcase that is a TARDIS.
Anyway. We are going to visit That Baby’s Public, Nova Scotia Division. It will be restful. Well, except for the schlepping of luggage and time spent in airports. Oooh, and entertaining a toddler in tight quarters on a hot airplane. AND the fact that BDH can NOT take a vacation without getting sick.
Kidding aside, though, I am really looking forward to being there. It will be nice to get away, and to visit with family. I plan to read, and knit, and sit by a fire. AND WATCH A GIANT TELEVISION.
But while we are in transit, photography may be hit and miss, what with the sherpa-ing of That Baby and her attendant bags through airports. So if you are looking for my 365 photos, you will just have to be happy for a couple of days with some pictures I took in preparation of our trip until we get where we are going and get my crap unpacked.
(But they are a TREAT.)
Also, you may remember, we have a server named Fred. Fred has a penchant for dying at the most inconvenient of times. So if you come here looking for me and you find yourself staring into a giant “oh holy hell you can’t connect to that website” error one day… well, that’s why. (Look, most times BDH has to McGyver this stuff back together to get it to work. Now, while our cat-slash-house sitter is a lovely fellow, we’re certainly not going to ask him to perform any miracles of computer resuscitation on old Fred. And goodness knows, he would not know what to do anyway. His expertise is more in the fields of house sitting, cat entertainment, and Duncan spoiling.)
So yeah, if you come here looking for me and I am not here… whoops! SNAFU.
But potential technological and photographical (yes, I made that word up) hiccups notwithstanding, I am pretty excited about our little getaway. It will be a lovely time for us to visit with family and unwind. And watching them fuss all over Stinkerbelle for a few days. She will be in her glory.
We’ll see you later in the week. Probably after a glass of wine. Or three.
(Note to self: No drunk posting. You remember what happened with the librarians.)
Jan
25
Stinkerbelle still mostly drinks her milk from a bottle. Do NOT say a WORD.
Weaning her from the bottle will mostly not be a problem. It’s not like she is sentimentally attached to her bottles or anything. She could care less one way or the other, really, if she drinks from a bottle, or a cup, or licks liquids off her hands or from a puddle. But for us, it is an issue because we want her to be sure that she’s taking in enough liquids, particularly in the winter when we want her and her skin to stay hydrated. And we just don’t see that happening with a cup and/or a sippy just yet.
We’d go to a sippy cup full time, but we have not, as yet, found one that works for us. And she’s still at the stage where using an actual cup is HI-LARIOUS, particularly the part where she pours her beverage down her front and then laughs because it is all chilly and tickly. Not to mention, it’s more fun to blow bubbles in the cup than actually DRINK.
Ahem. So. The bottle is just expeditious at this point.
But we still regularly offer her drinks in a sippy because… well, to be honest, because somebody’s book of baby raisin’ rules somewhere said we should and OMG THINK OF TEH BAYBEEZ AND DONT YOU KNOW YOU WILL DAMAGE HER FOR LIFE IF SHE’S STILL ON A BOTTLE AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH.
And don’t even get me started on mommy drive-bys.
So this morning, Stinkerbelle sat down in her little purple fuzzy Dora armchair like a very good girl, and very sweetly asked and signed for “milk, please”. It was not her normal time to have a drink, so she must have been thirsty. So I thought, well now, here is as good a time as any to offer her a sippy.
She sat down with her sippy and had a bit of a drink.
And I turned back to my laptop to continue my planning for our upcoming vacation.
And then, a few moments later, I looked over at That Baby, who was happily pouring her milk in drip-drip-drips from the mouth of her sippy ALL OVER THE ARM OF HER CHAIR. A big puddle of milk and purple plushy fleece.
Oh sure… the sippy is leak-proof… UNLESS YOU SQUEEZE THE FRIGGING VALVE THING AT THE TOP. Or put the cup sippy-spouty-valve part down on a hard-ish surface and PUSH.
Which any toddler with a little initiative, AND CERTAINLY MY TODDLER, could figure out in a millisecond.
Who the HELL designed these things, anyway? I hate them. With the fire of a thousand burning nuns, I hate them.
And as far as that goes, I hate sippy cups. And I hate baby books.
And right now? Not so much a fan of purple plushy fabric, either.
Jan
22
It is a known fact that, most weeks, I am not in the running for the Mommy of the Week Award.
I know, you are shocked.
So, yeah. Not winning any Perfect Parent awards anytime soon.
Jan
19
Well, That Baby had swimming class again today. And the score is:
Abby – 2
Other Kids in Swimming Class – 0
Abby bit another kid, Ben, within moments of arriving on the pool deck for today’s class. Now, there are only three kids in class, and Abby’s taken a chunk out of two of them. Next week, either she’s going to have to bite herself, or the instructor better watch out.
I’ll tell you what, though: I did not let Stinkerbelle go anywhere NEAR Abby today. If Abby was on the ground, I picked That Baby up. And I only let That Baby walk about when Abby was up in her grandmother’s arms. Stinkerbelle STILL has a bruise on her little cheek, a week later. I’m not taking any chances that Abby wants to make a matching set of bruises on her.
I’m beginning to really dislike that kid.
Jan
18
Okay. So. I made bread today. With a bread maker, so you know, it’s not exactly “making” so much as “preparing and dumping ingredients” but whatever.
And I think I have discovered the secret to making good bread. Are you ready? Okay. Here it is.
HORMONES.
When I was doing my infertility treatments, hopped up to the hilt on every baby-makin’ hormone known to man, I baked. A LOT. I made all kinds of stuff. Ask Kelly, she can tell you. She was often on the phone with me as I measured and kneaded and cut. Every day, the more hormones got coursing through my system, the more I would bake. I was up to my elbows in flour and baking up a storm.
And I made good bread. Oh yes. So much tasty delicious bread-y goodness it was not to be BELIEVED. My house smelled like… well, like a BAKERY, to be honest. And it was wonderful.
But now, I am a perimenopausal lump of infertile personhood. I am not making babies, no way no how, and no amount of science could make me. The hormones? I don’t has them.
And OHMYDOG THE BREAD DISASTER.
I am currently staring at this doughy lump. Some would call it bread. I mean, if you were starving, you would call it manna and be very grateful thankyouverymuch. But it does not look like any bread that I remember from my salad days of bread. It is a knobby, dense, baked disaster of a loaf. It is not so much a loaf as a mound or a knob or a stump of bread-like substance.
It tastes fine. But it is not what I wanted to make when I set out to make bread.
I wanted a nice smooth loaf of well-risen, well-kneaded yeasty goodness. And this? Is what I did not get.
And I have decided that it is because of the hormones. Or lack thereof.
There is a correlation, I know there must be. Because this is not the bread I remember. Could it be the yeast was dead? Maybe, but it rose some, and the yeast was good well into the summer of 2011 according to the package. So maybe some of it was dead. Was the recipe bad? Perhaps. I got it from a BHG classic cookbook, so you’d think it would be tried and tested. And I followed it closely, so you’d think it should go according to plan. Is it the breadmaker, for those of you who pooh-pooh the notion of making bread in a machine and not fully by hand? Well, the recipe was specific to a breadmaker, so I took that into account. Possibly the breadmaker needs replacing? Maybe, although at least the lump is cooked, and the timer seems to have worked, and so did the kneading bit at the bottom of the pan…
And yet…? Bread lump.
So I have to blame SOMEONE. Or in this case, someTHING.
The obvious culprit is hormones. So I am blaming them. Which works perfectly fine for me, because it gives me an excuse for being extra crabby as well.
Jan
18
We’re trying to enjoy a little quiet time here these days.
This morning, that means that I’ve got a loaf of bread preparing in the bread maker, and a cup of coffee by my side as I sit and watch That Baby, who is puttering around in front of a Wiggles video. We both are kind of enjoying the down time.
It’s been a flurry of activity these past couple of days. We had play dates and swimming and appointments and visiting to do. That Baby had lots of fun, played hard, met new people, and spent a lot of time in the car. I drove a lot and spent a lot of time out of the house, visiting friends, socializing, getting my hair done (YAY!) and having a good time.
But with all that fun comes a down side. And when you are a toddler, that down side is that your schedule gets disrupted.
That Baby is tired. She’s been up late, and waking a bit early. Her afternoon naps came as we drove around in the car. And one that WAS spent at home was not very good because of an angry molar making an appearance. And all the activity makes a person tired.
Yesterday, we took a down day. That Baby played, mostly quietly, and watched some TV, and we got her back on schedule. She slept like a log, despite the aforementioned molar disrupting her naptime, and we actually had to go wake her up this morning. BDH spent his day, despite a few hours of work yesterday morning, mostly relaxing and napping and playing WoW. And me, I did a lot of nothing, looking for recipes, cooking a bit, and futzing with the camera and some pictures, followed by parking my butt in a chair and watching Our Friends In The North last night.
We’re good with that. A person needs a little down time every now and again. As much fun and as exciting as being out and about is, I think that Stinkerbelle is happy for the break in the action, to just putter around in her own playroom for a little bit, with her own toys and her own stuff around her. And me, I am a creature of habit, so I am happy to be in my own environment as well. I might make some more bread, or throw in a few loads of laundry. Or I may grab a bit of knitting and do that while Stinkerbelle plays. It’s hard to say. But it will definitely be something around home.
It’ll be a quiet week for us, which suits us all fine. Quiet time is restful. And next week, we’re going on a little holiday, so it will be nice to rest up before we travel and head out for more fun.