The Blank Blogger

The Great U.S. of A.

2012-02-09T09:31:00.005-06:00

Last week my mom gave me a tablecloth with a map of the United States on it. I presume it was for Brady, as I have at least a working knowledge of what and where the states are :) We've only had it on the table a couple of days, but Brady is quick to pick things up. Please follow along as I share yet another tale of little man and his little brain.I've labeled the picture so you can somewhat see what I'm talking about. Hopefully it is big enough, but if not- you can click the picture to enlarge it. One caveat, we don't know that many people in that many different states. And of the people we do know, Brady only knows 1/3 of them, so don't feel sad if you're left out...it just means you have to come back and visit!

#1: When asked where we live, Brady will point to the cow. I want to be sure that he understands that we do not live IN a cow, or ON a cow, or WITH a cow, so I've been coaching him to answer "Green Bay" when asked which city he lives in. I realize he has no idea what a "city" is, but children are great at memorization without comprehension.

#2: When asked where Mickey Mouse lives, he points to the rocket ship. It's close enough to Florida and it makes Mickey extra cool that his house is on a rocket ship. Although I wonder when he'll piece together that the rocket ship could not possibly also hold Mickey Mouse's Clubhouse. This will inevitably lead to him questioning the entire authority of my knowledge.

#3: He thinks Elise lives in the Alamo. There's really nothing I can do to change that, so when we visit, Elise, please make arrangements.

We will require one guest bedroom with a king bed and a roll-away, perhaps on the western wall of the collapsing Alamo?

#4: Although he gives me a somewhat blank look when I tell him that Great Grandma and Grandpa live in the cactus, he can point to it. I'm not sure if the blank look is because he can't picture Great Grandma and Grandpa (who are snowbirds. I'm not sure a two year old's memory extends back 7 months) or if it's because he's trying to figure out how to live inside a cactus. Or maybe he's taking it at face value that a cactus can also double as a condo.

#5: Brady knows that daddy wants to live with the dancing hula girl. When asked if we could all live there, our conversation goes something like this:

"no. Daddy."
"But Brady, we could all live there together with the hula girl."

"no. mama. cow."

I try not to take this as an insult...I know he means Wisconsin and isn't making a snide remark on my weight :)

Who knew a tablecloth could provide so many unique learning opportunities!

Too cool for school

2012-01-29T21:09:00.004-06:00

Yep. Your inbox is right. It's another blog post...only 3 days from the last one. But don't worry, I'm sure this stamina won't last. On top of past experience, I know this because it's time for another semester of priceless* education.
*Actually, it has a price. It's too expensive to list here and probably won't pay off before retirement.

Regardless of the intro to this post, I'm actually pretty excited about school. I'm a year into the program now (3 semesters to go if you don't include this one) and I've gotta say- I'm a nerd. I like school. I like learning. I like getting my textbook weeks early so I can see what I'm up against. And yes, I like telling people I'm in graduate school. (I like less telling them what I'm going for- as some people think librarians need no skills to do their job. Seriously. I had a customer ask me if I get paid for what I do. Then when I said yes and I was going to school to do more, she was incredulous that you needed any type of education. "Don't you just read books all day?" For those of you don't know: "No. I don't get to read books all day, but if you do know of a place that will pay me to do that, please share!")

I even kind of like the juggling that I have to do between school and work and family and friends. I like being busy (yes, I am slightly crazy--see the shower blog post from a few weeks ago). But I feel so proud when I can get everything done in a day. There's such a feeling of accomplishment from being that darn efficient. And, because I'm a librarian (lower case "l"- upper case "Librarian" comes with the degree), I know that there are studies out there that show that multitasking does not make you more efficient or productive. In fact, it takes you longer to complete each task and they are usually done with lesser degrees of awesomeness than if you had concentrated on one thing and then moved onto the next. While this may be true (it probably is, I'm too busy to find a reputable source on this) I find it just depressing. So I choose not to think about it. Like I choose not to think about world hunger when I pass up a salad that's included with my dinner entree. Sure I could have taken the salad to go and given it to someone in the third world, but the shipping charges for perishable foods are outrageous- talk to you local representative about this!

PS. You're probably wondering if this is the end of the blog since it contains no real information about me or my family. Also, it has no pictures. But yes, it is the end. What you're left with- valuable insight from an over-tasked, self-inflated bibliophile. Also, I assume people read this blog for the same reason I write it- for my own amusement, so there's no reason to be disappointed. I'm sure I made you smile at least once. If not, post a comment- I'll refund your money.

The Great Paci Purge of 2012

2012-01-26T10:11:00.006-06:00

Suck Suck Suck...

Not only is that the sound of Brady with his pacifier, it also exemplifies my feelings of "paci purging." For about a year now we've only let Brady have a pacifier for naps and bedtime. (yeah us and our only sometimes co-dependent child!) Brian and I talked about it and agreed that we would try to wean Brady off the pacifier permanently after our annual trip to Minnesota. (Logic behind this: 2 yr old + 5 hr car ride = eeek. This year it was 2 yrd old + throw up + 8 hr car ride + icy conditions = ewwww...ekkk..aarrgghh). Anyway, we got back on Monday and decided to start the paci purge right away. Here are the results thus far:
(side note: he has been going without a paci when he's at other people's houses for naps and such. It's just a crutch at our house. So we KNOW he can do it.)

Monday:
Nap time: no problem, fell asleep within 10 minutes, no crying
Bedtime: had to keep repeating what a Big Boy he is for not having a paci. After ten minutes, went to check on him. He had a paci. What?!!? Did you have that stashed somewhere? Not wanting to take it away, we let him keep it for the night.

Tuesday:
Nap time: no paci, no problem.
Bedtime: Went through the discussion: no paci, you're a Big Boy now. Brady laid down, after a while, he called daddy into the room. He had a paci in his mouth (brady, not brian- sometimes those pronouns get confusing). Seriously? Where are you getting these things?!?

Wednesday: pull crib from wall, grab paci's that are stashed there. pull stuffed animals, blankets, and pillows from crib. collect paci's found underneath and within these articles.

The paci stash. Hopefully all accounted for.

Back to our regularly scheduled program:
Nap time: This was at my folks' house. So it went fine. He's a real gem for other people, which is nice- as it ensures we'll always have babysitters :)
Bedtime: Discussion ensues about paci's and bedtime. Crying ensues when he realizes he has no hoarded pacis (like an alcoholic whose just realized their secret bottle hidden behind the toilet seat is gone!) Falls asleep. Wakes up in the middle of the night. Conversation re: paci/big boy. Falls back asleep. Wakes up. Brian has no patience for a 3am lecture- into our bed he goes. (are we exchanging one vice for another? possibly. But it's bloody 3am and we have to work!)

Thursday:
Nap-time: non-existent. Hmm...maybe this means he'll sleep through the night?
Bedtime: Conversation re: paci/Big Boy (I'm not sure if you met my kid or not, but he kind of obsesses about things. This paci/Big Boy thing is a big repeated conversation. It competes only with the repeated conversation of how he fell down the stairs (only 3 stairs and it was weeks ago!)

To be continued...or, hopefully, not. Hopefully this is the end of the story. Hopefully he sleeps well all through the nights having had one whole night's experience with self-soothing. And they say a person forgets how to dream big as they age :)

Here he is sleeping with a half a dozen blankets/stuffed animals. But most importantly NOT sleeping with a paci. And before anyone asks too many questions...those pajamas are marvel superheroes. I don't know why the designer decided black and red was a soothing color combination for nighttime sleepwear.

The Holiday Trifecta

2012-01-16T11:11:00.012-06:00

Since I failed to post about the holidays, here's your one-stop shop for thanksgiving, Brady's birthday, and Christmas.

Thanksgiving:
For the first time ever, I cooked Thanksgiving dinner...but no need to pat me on the back. It was just for Brian, Brady, and I. Which means side dishes were minimal and expectations were low. We ended up buying a turkey breast roast from Festival instead of a whole turkey (and still ended up with enough leftovers to leave us in a tryptophan-induced coma til Christmas). Then I made mashed potatoes (no pat on the back here either- I used a box mix) and corn. All in all, it turned out rather delicious. But next year's plan: go back to mooching off the parental units.

Brady's Birthday:
After the wham-bam birthday party we had for Brady when he turned one, I felt kind of bad that his second birthday was a bit more on the quiet side...like, real quiet, like- no party quiet. Brian and I had tossed around ideas, but when you want to invite practically everyone to share the day, it gets a bit out of hand. So, we decided to exnay (i forgot pig-latin a long time ago) the party and just do a simple cake with a few gifts. I'm pretty sure Brady didn't care because his day still contained four key elements: cake, ice cream, presents, and getting to do whatever he wanted because, dangit, it was his day.

Last year the hi-light of the party was him eating cake. This year, he ate around the frosting (what a misguided child) and was most impressed by the two balloons that nana and papa brought. Ah a side-note: you don't really want Brady to help you blow out your birthday candles. He blows out candles like he blows his nose....snot and all. It makes for a delicious topping! (Hmm... that's explains why he ate around the frosting. not misguided, just pure genius).

Christmas:
Ah, what to say about Christmas? I didn't realize how much fun it could be until you can see the holiday through the eyes of a child. Specifically, my child. Specifically, my eyes- as he got those baby blues from me. We prepped him all month about Santa and counted down the days using an advent calendar he got from Storytime Sue (he's the best kid in storytime, and yes, I am just saying that because he's my kid). When we got him to sit on Santa's lap he delivered his lines like an Oscar-nominee (although his enunciation could use some work- we had to provide the subtitles).

After his birthday, Brady really got into the whole present-opening thing. So by Christmas he knew what to do. He tore into his bazillion presents (given over the course of 8 days, not because we're Jewish, just because he's so darn loved) like a pro. He already knows how to "ham it up" for the gift giver. Every present was "oooo" or "woooooww." On Christmas morning when he woke up, Santa had delivered him two wrapped presents and train table. He walked right by the train table, not even seeing it and straight to the presents. But no worrries. The train table does take up 1/5 of our living room, so it didn't take long for him to find the table. Nor did it take him long to start adding his personal touches to the table, like Thor. No countryside is safe unless protected by a Nordic God. Which, is pretty smart of Brady because Hulk came on the scene not too long after that. Below is a picture of the destruction.

Hulk and a giant dinosaur have taken over, disrupting all imports and exports. Fallen firefighters and superheroes lay scattered among the debris of fallen trees, upended houses, a fish out of water. I told Brady to alert FEMA, but he informed me that, sadly, those services were cut to balance the budget. I tried to tell him similar cuts were made to the diaper industry. He informed me that it was more eco-friendly to use cloth anyway. Touche young jedi, touche.

It's Raining, It's Pouring- No Wait, I'm in the Shower

2012-01-13T07:06:00.006-06:00

Some people do their best thinking in the shower. I, however, am not most people. I don't do my best thinking- I don't even do above average thinking in the shower. Instead, when I step into the shower, as the water starts pouring out, so do my thoughts. All of them. At once. I have serious information overload. I'm a 7 year old without my Ritalin. I think about so many things at once that I forget where I am in the showering process. I frequently can't remember if I just rinsed the shampoo out of my hair or if it was the conditioner. Which makes me stand there like an idiot, trying to remember what bottle I grabbed last. The other day, I walked out without rinsing off my body wash completely. Today, I turned off the shower before realizing I'd only washed my hair and hadn't even gotten to the body wash.

My reward for these thunderstorms of thoughts? Certainly not any brilliant epiphanies about world hunger or even a not-so-brilliant epiphany about my own hunger. My reward is a clean (or a mostly clean, depending on how complete of a process it was) body and an exhausted, but quieter mind. I step out of the shower and most of of those thoughts drift back into the subconscious. So, if I forget an appointment, forget to make a phone call, forget to pull dinner out of the freezer. It's not because I didn't think about it; it's because I thought of it, but it was washed down the drain and out to sea...like Nemo but without the sewage and the happy ending.

Stationery card

2011-12-09T20:40:00.001-06:00

Confetti Frame New Year's Card

Create modern holiday cards with your photos at Shutterfly.

View the entire collection of cards.

Warning: this post includes the word poop

2011-11-12T19:57:00.006-06:00

Tonight Brady and I had some mommy and son time while Brian went to do Brian stuff. We took advantage of the warmer weather and went to play soccer outside. Brady's favorite game was running up the hill by our house and then throwing the ball, watching as it rolls to the bottom. Now, mind you, this hill is only about three feet higher than the rest of the yard, but to him, it's probably significant. At the top of the hill is a fence. Brady was peeking through the fence and saw a tree and some rocks. He kept pointing at the space between the fencing and would not be deterred. Long story short, we ended up walking all the way around the edge of the fencing til we came to....Goodwill. Since he's a lot like his momma, he wanted to go in and take a look around. We didn't come out with anything (besides the soccer ball we walked in with), but it was a fun "adventure" and now he knows what's on the other side of the fence. Robert Frost would be so proud.

Now, for the main reason I decided to post. After dinner but still during momma and son time, Brady was playing with some mixing bowls and measuring cups on the floor. We spent a lot of time trying to fit bigger bowls into smaller ones and learning about sizes and such. (insert personal pat on the back...as I really wanted to be cleaning during this kitchen time). About 10 minutes into bowl-playing time, Brady starts to make his very unmistakable "I've gotta go potty" face.

Me: do you want to go sit on the potty?
Brady, playing with bowls: no
Me: You can go sit on the potty like mommy and daddy.
Brady, still playing: no
Me: You can sit on your Diego potty.
Brady squatting and playing: noooo

At that point my thinking went a bit like this: Huh...well, guess I can't blame you. You've got a good thing going for ya and you know it. No need to stop the fun for a little thing like poop...and hey, you're learning a very important skill: multitasking.

PS. For those who don't have facebook (are there any of you out there?) Brady dressed up as a train conductor. Here's the pic:

What I want to be when I grow up

2011-10-02T15:04:00.001-05:00

I have a terrible memory, but what I can remember about my childhood dreams involved me blossoming into a lawyer or a teacher. In high school, where you're encouraged to streamline your dreams into an academic category, all I could think of was how I wanted a job where I could order office supplies. Nothing would have made me happier than to pick out colored post it notes and decided upon the best desk organizer. Lo and behold, that dream did come true. At the theater, I was allowed to order from the supply catalog. The thing they don't tell you is that you can't order your favorite shaped post it notes, because, dammit, that's a waste of company money. Ah, the disillusionment of life--where life's aspirations collide with fiscal responsibilities.

My point, do I have one? Well, yes- or I wouldn't be blogging. I find myself trying to imagine what Brady's life will be like in 30 years. Will he be a doctor, a CEO, a musician, an engineer? These are the things we dream for our children. When, in reality, I should be asking if he'll grow up to be a good father, a responsible worker, a concerned citizen. These are the things that truly matter. Yet, last weekend I found myself again thinking of Brady's future career. Brian, Brady, and I headed down to Milwaukee to spend some time with my sister Amanda for her birthday (and to see a Brewer game, but that's a post for another day. Which, face it, I'll never get to). The four of us headed out on Monday to the Betty Brinn Children's Museum. It was a blast and I can't wait to bring Brady back. He could have played there all day, forgone lunch and naptime (no real hardship on that one), and left us to drive back to Green Bay alone. Here are some photos from the day. I hope you enjoy as much as we did.

Driving the bus

Making my favorite meal: pizza!

"Well, let me crunch the numbers and I'll get back to ya"

"I'm hitting the keys and you're not yelling. Love it"

Anchorman 2011

"That weather girl looks hot today."

Playing post office with dad :)

Each booth was sponsored by a company. Coincidence, I choose to think not.

Mandy and Brady pushing buttons to make the box move.

Trying to decide where to ship this package

Learning at a young age how to change a tire.

Grabbin the groceries. Can't forget the ice cream.

Taking the grocery shopping VERY seriously.

Milking a cow, pushing a wheelbarrow- all in a day's work.

Giant tinker toys!

Mixmaster B!

First mini-golf experience. I stayed as far away from the club as possible.

He and this little boy did a little DDR'ing before calling it a day.

Jump Jump

2011-09-14T07:45:00.001-05:00

Brady is at such a fun age now. I love watching him while he's playing. His little brows furrow as he tries to concentrate and figure out something. Of course, it's not long before those eyes turn to me and ask for help (and I use the term ask loosely, what I really mean is, whine for help). But it's that focused determination that gets me. And the elation on his face when he figures it out.

Earlier this week he figured out how to jump. Brian was regularly bringing him to storytime and Miss Sue had a song she played each week called "the jumping song." (If you know anything about children's music you know they're song titles are really original) Ever since the first storytime Brady has been trying to jump. Nope, take that back. The first two or three times he just observed what the other kids were doing- very socially conscious, this little one. I ended up getting a copy of the storytime songs to play at home so Brady has been practicing. Although he didn't know it was practice because he thought he was always jumping correctly. In reality, he was doing some kind of weird jiggle from one foot to another.

Well, this week he GOT it. He jumped off the ground with both feet in the air at the same time. You would have thought little man discovered the lost city of atlantis, what a proud mama I was/am. Brady is pretty proud of himself too. He now jumps all. the. time. With that being said, it needs to be noted that he's still only successful about half the time. The other half he either doesn't get both feet off the ground or he jumps and then lands on his tookus, which is amusing nonetheless.

It's been months since I blogged so bear with me while I share other amazing things Brady does, which might be old news to you, but new news to someone else:
- turns his toys on and off. Mommy wishes he just knew how to turn them off :)
- climbs in and out of his carseat by himself
- can go up and down stairs while holding onto the wall (he's too short to reach the railing)
- puts away his toys mostly by himself (sometimes I'm worried about OCD, he knows each one has a "spot" and will move things around until that spot is open for the toy.)
- listens closely to noises outside, lest they belong to a train, plane, truck, or motorcycle. Then he races outside to see.
- "reads" books to himself. I find this adorable. But I find everything adorable.

- gives great hugs and blows kisses when saying goodbye
- knows exactly what he wants, even if he can't say it. (he's an expert at taking your hand and leading you to what he wants)
- breathes in and out. day in and day out. Love that he keeps doing this.

- is showing his personality so much more each and every day. I can not express enough how amazing this is.

Brady riding the train at the NEW Zoo. He LOVES all things train.

Reading outside on the porch. Just like his mama

Practicing for his future MLB career

Practicing for his future as a nerd...or a dodgeball contender

Mama called the doctor and the doctor said...

2011-07-17T19:49:00.004-05:00

It's been a couple of months since Brady's seen the doctor. He had his 18 month checkup in the beginning of June. My, how time flies. When we went to see Doc he praised Brady for how absolutely adorable he is (well, no- not really. But i could tell he wanted to!) He did, however, call Brady brave and perceptive, which is probably better than adorable- especially from an expert. No worries with the Doc. B is healthy and sweet and growing taller every day, like a stalk of delicious summer corn. (mmm...corn).

A-hem, back on topic, we did get sent home with some homework though. Brady isn't yet adept at using utensils to eat, and supposedly should be farther along than he is. I know he is capable of it, because his dexterity is off the charts. He just hasn't had a lot of practice, which, I admit, is entirely my fault. I remember when Brady transitioned from bottles to baby food. I hated it. It took ten times longer and involved a whole lot more of me. Then he transitioned from baby food to real food. And I hated it. It took ten times more diligence to make sure he didn't choke, and it required me to stop copping out and cook vegetables (re: open can, pour into pot, warm contents and serve). And now I've been charged with this new transition, which makes meals ten times longer and a 100 times messier. These are the latest results of attempted spoon and fork use:

(hard to see, but that is soup all over the floor)

(yep, that's chili all over his face)

And so I would like to tell the doctor, "please, come over to my house and give it a go. I'd be happy to relinquish control until Brady is up to par with whichever milestone you deem necessary." And, yes, I DO realize that B has to learn how to use utensils. I picture him regressing sometime in his teens, but until that time, I would like to be able to take him to restaurants without dying of embarrassment.

As a side note, Doc also mentioned that the new recommendation for car seat safety is to have the child remain rear-facing until they are two. He suggested switching Brady BACK to rear-facing. Ha! After six months of looking out into the world, there is no way I'm traveling with a toddler whose car entertainment consists of gazing for hours at the upholstery. For that one doc, you'll have to find either a bigger sucker than me, or a more anal-retentive mother. Of which I am sure there are plenty.

Ok- let's clear up some confusion

2011-03-25T19:39:00.005-05:00

Some pics of Brady and I playing with those "forbidden" legos.

Wednesday's post left a lot of people with the wrong assumption, and for that I apologize. It was not my intent to make it seem as if I didn't want to be with my family. I LOVE my family. I love spending time with Brian or Brady or Brian and Brady. Wednesday's blog post come out from the unexpectedness of the snow day. When I woke up that morning, I had intended to go to work. My mind was set for work mode. It was not set for stay-at-home mode. Today, I had the day off, and it was great. Brady and I played and read and had some quality bonding when Brian went for an interview. He went down for a nap (Brady, not Brian) and I got some homework done. Then we ran errands, ate dinner and now he's sleeping. It was a good day off. But then, I knew I'd have today off. I knew the things I wanted to get done and the things that could be put off for another day. That's all I was trying to say on the last blog post. I got my routine all mixed up and realized that I am strong enough to know my limitations. I know that I would not be happy as a stay-at-home mom. That doesn't mean that I don't want to be around my kid. It just means that I love my life, my WHOLE life-work included. I'm lucky enough to enjoy the career I have. I'm lucky enough to have a beautiful son and a loving husband. These are things I know and am extremely grateful for. The End.

Now, for an amusing tale...I was in Once Upon a Child today with my sister and Brady. We were shopping for Brady's spring coat (a success...it's adorable). I had let Brady down to walk around in the aisle we were in (ps. they rearranged since the last time, very confusing for me) and he walked a little ways down the aisle and stood. A minute or so passes and I see that he's squatting down. He's doing his thing. And if you've seen him do it, there is no doubt what it is he's trying to do...and even if you didn't know, you'd be able to figure it out when you took your next breath. Anyway, so picture it, B squatting down (he's still in diapers, so no gross worries there) and this girl, maybe 3, came up to him and said "baby run." "babbbbbyyyy...RUN!" I walk over and say to the little girl that he is too small to run. He doesn't know how yet. Her response, "baby- run!" Brady is now looking up at the two of us like "what the heck are you two doing here...i'm trying to do my thing" The girl's dad comes around the corner, I explain the situation. He tries to tell the girl that Brady doesn't run yet and he starts to take her hand and pull her away. She CRIES, like, I took her favorite toy, put it in the microwave, melted it, and fed it to the dog. Brady is now in my arms looking from me to the girl to me, completely confused. I see it in his face "mom, what's going on? I was squatting and she interrupted me, tried to boss me around and SHE's the one cryin?"

Oh darling, i thought. It's too early to learn this lesson. A woman will always ask you for something she knows you are incapable of. If told of this impossibility, it will only make her more insistent that you CAN do it, you just CHOOSE not to, that you ARE capable of change and SHE will be the one to bring it about. And then when you can't...she'll throw a hissy and blame it all on you. And yes, it's okay if you're already considering alternative lifestyles.

Now, go back to squattin in the aisle like a good boy :)

It's humbling to realize...

2011-03-23T19:41:00.005-05:00

That you're not the best parent ever. I always thought I'd have years of delusions ahead of me. Plenty of time to scoff at how other parents were doing it and how I was doing it so much better. Alas, I have discovered that I was a WAY better parent, when I didn't have any kids. "Why doesn't she just control her kid?! Is that kid wearing his breakfast on his shirt...in public?! I can not believe she doesn't have a hat on him! No hat! It's fricken september and no hat?!" A sigh of resignation for my smug former self.

Today I stayed home with the boys. And I gotta say...it better not snow tomorrow. I'm just not cut out for this kind of work. To be fair, I wasn't the type to stay inside a whole day before I had a child, so at least I know the "ahh..i know i could be accomplishing something. i have somewhere to go, right? Didn't I need a watch battery or something?" isn't something that was born out of motherhood. But, that being said...Brian is a WAY better parent than I am. (please don't comment about how great I am or that we parent great but in different ways. I'm not looking for compliments, just trying to state fact). He has endless patience, loves to play with Brady, and as a benefit of staying home with him all the time, Brian KNOWS Brady-which is pretty tough stuff to swallow if you're the jealous type. Which I'm not, for the record. But its tough when you realize someone knows your kid better than you do...even if its just the other parent. And I do see how they are together on the weekends, but we're always so busy running around that it all blurs together.

So back to today and being stuck...we all entertained each other. By 2:30 we'd had a succesful breakfast, playtime, nap, lunch, and more playtime. We even hauled out the "special toys" (i.e. Legos- the real ones, the ones he could choke on. No worries, he didn't) So, yeah, I was feeling smug. By 3:30 I was tapping out so hard even a WWE referee would have to call it. Again, just not cut out for this. I've always appreciated Brian and his relationship with Brady, but I am SO grateful that I still have a job (on many levels, the bottom one being this) and can go to work and then come home and appreciate my family. Otherwise, I might be one of those crazy ladies you see on the news...not the mom-killer ones, but the "i burned down the house cuz at least it got me out of it" ones. Not to say that with work, school, and family I still won't turn out crazy, but I bet it will be a different kind of crazy. I've already got the "twitching eye," so I can't imagine I'm that far off from wearing two different colored socks and realizing on thursday that I haven't washed my hair since saturday. Feel free to comment anytime you see me in mismatched clothes...or unbathed. Please on the unbathed part, cuz we have enough smelly people at work, I don't need to be one of them!

Balls in the Air

2011-01-17T09:55:00.006-06:00

I consider myself a fairly laid back person. Maybe I suffer from self delusion, but honestly, I don't seem to be, at least on the inside, as high strung as some of my peers. But, I think that's because I don't create situations that leave me to be anxious or frantic. Of course, there are always times when life throws you through a loop. And in those instances, yes, I am a basket case. It costs how much to fix our car?! Brady's temperature is what?! Scrunchies aren't cool anymore?! On the whole, though, I'd say I'm floating down the river not really worried about what may lie (lay? I'm terrible with grammar) around the bend.

Where am I going with all of this? Well, in 7 days...count 'em, 7 days, I start grad school. With a one year old. While I work full time. While my husband seeks employment. While I try to squeeze 10 extra hours into my days and nights. Ahh, more balls in the air. But---the upsides are enormous...hence my putting myself in an anxious situation.

It's completely online...so when Brady's up with a fever at 2:30 in the morning and I'm scared sober and awake, I can log on and get something accomplished (although truthfully, I'm hoping these opportunities never present themselves).

It's a 2.5 year program if I take my sweet time, only takes 2 classes at a time and summers off. So that's nice. And my dad (thanks pa) figured out that I can make the money back in just 6 years, if/when I get promoted where I work.

Not to mention the opportunities that will open up once I have my MLIS...like, job searching in Hawaii. Hello--warm weather, madison-like cost of livings, and friends visiting just for the sake of seeing us...err..the island.

But maybe the best thing about school, is that I went school supply shopping over the weekend. I LOVE school supplies. I always have. When my friend Paula's kids started school, I begged (rather pathetically) to go along school shopping. Every year I go and buy a bunch of fun school supplies...and then donate them (what am I going to do with 6 boxes of crayola crayons and markers...crayola. NOT roseart..cheap bastards). I have to admit, its a lot more fun to buy when crayola crayons are ON your list of needed school supplies. On my list: 2 college ruled notebooks. Yep, I spent a whopping $.97 each (shoulda bought them in september for $.25). And that's it. My adult mind wouldn't allow me to get the cool 5-five star notebooks for $3.00. Or a new set of RSVP pens when I've got so many pens at home already. Or even fun folders with Batman and Hello Kitty on the cover. Sigh. Being grown-up is no fun. But I won't let it get me down. In fact, I'm going to go and find those notebooks and just stare at the blank pages, and the possibilities that lie (lay? schoolhouse rock did not address this!) before me.

PS. If you see me in the next 2.5 years with a tear-streaked face sitting on the sidewalk with balls strewn everywhere, please, help me pick them back up and show me how to juggle again!

Becky the Baker

2010-12-19T10:02:00.005-06:00

Anyone who truly knows me knows how much I enjoy being in the kitchen. I love preparing delicious food for my family. Some of my specialties include, but are most certainly limited to: mac n cheese, frozen pizza, spaghetti, tacos, lasagna, chili, chicken nuggets, soup, burgers, and hot dogs. This year I've decided to add baking to my kitchen resume. In the past week I've made cookies from frozen Festival Foods dough, chocolate cake from a Betty Crocker box mix, and this delicious pretzel-kiss-m&m treat. Yep- I'm practically ready for my audition on Ace of Cakes. But the thing about all this cooking and baking is...at the heart of it, I'm a simple girl. Given a choice of birthday dinners, I will almost always choose pizza. Favorite non-pizza meal: a tie between ring bologna with buttered noodles and tacos. Ironically my favorite restaruant is Melting Pot, where you can get all sorts of delicatessen foods- I just eat the chips and bread with my cheese, the chicken with my cooking style, and the delicious chocolate dippers. But its all SO good- so I'll leave the fancy to my table mates.

I've made some vain attempts since Brady has been born to make a more rounded meal. Occasionally I'll throw a pot of warmed up green beans on the stove. Or trouble myself with mixing up some boxed mashed potatoes. I would consider this child nutritionally doomed, if it were not for sending him to the sitters 3 days a week. They make "real" meals in their house. Where the veggies are all cooked in the same pot with the meal..and in fact are not a "side" at all. It's insane really. But good for my kid. And when i eat over there, they respect my "foodie neuroses" and make tacos :)

So to all of you with big plans for holiday baking and cooking- my hat goes off to you. Think of me as you sit down to a well-planned meal and know that I would only enjoy the ham and the rolls. Then be thankful you haven't invited such a picky guest to your dinner table (except for you mom, you're stuck with me...you've got ham and crescent rolls on the menu..right?!?!)

Bearded Lady?

2010-12-10T21:05:00.004-06:00

I'd like to start off this post by saying that, while I've never voiced this out loud, I've always been really grateful that I can't grow a beard. Mostly, because I'm female- and have no desire to partner up with the Ringling Bros. Also, it would be a pain in the ass to shave every day. Why, you ask, am I starting a post talking about facial hair and freak shows at the circus? Because I can dammit- it's my blog and I'll ramble if I want to!

Just kidding. Mostly I was thinking about how its starting to feel a lot like Christmas- but I have yet to start feeling like Santa Claus. Maybe its my smooth jaw line and inability to speak reindeer- but I think it might have more to do with my empty pocketbook. Last year I was too tired to think about Christmas much. I raced around getting the tree set up and presents bought so that I wouldn't have to think about it too much. This year, I've had plenty of time to think about it. I've also had plenty of time to push those thoughts away for more immediate ones. In the past month, I've been sick-sick, Brady's been head sick, Thanksgiving happened (yummy btw), I registered for grad classes, I've been head sick, Brady had a kick ass party, I've been sick-sick, Brady's teethed (past tense of teething anyone?) and Brian's been sick-sick.

So, as you can see, there was very little opportunity to practice my ho-ho-ho's and check the elves' production levels (abysmal btw- not a single gift wrapped yet). But tonight I sat down and figured out who we still needed gifts for and started to breath a little easier. Black Friday was a big help (I think he's the 10th reindeer-there are eight plus Rudolph right? I have a hard time remembering them all. It's like those tricky dwarfs. I have a theory they are all one person, they just move REALLY fast and use fun house mirrors. wow- TWO circus references in one post, aren't you all lucky?!). ANYWAY, let's wrap this up:

I don't have facial hair, I have a poor immune system and an even poorer bank account, disney is full of lies and Christmas is right around the corner.

Thank you (salacious bow) aaaannnndd....good night.

Thankful Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T19:21:00.004-06:00

I wanted to take time today to write about all the things that I am thankful for. Then I realized I no longer have that kind of time. So, instead, you get to read a list of things that I remember that I am thankful for...right now. And keep in my mind I have a mommy-mush-memory, so forgive me if this post doesn't specifically mention you.

I am thankful for:
Pacifiers (may brady never age so that I can always rely on this crutch)
Homemade meals from mom (the things you appreciate now that you have to be the one to do them)
A big belly laugh- from a teeny tiny belly.
All the free space between my you-hoo and my ribs (remembering this time last year!)
A husband who has shown me in the past year that a soulmate makes the best daddy.
Store brand supplies (target's diapers rate as the best find of the year)
Sleep (what little of it I get...so precious. so, so precious.)
Sisters (very blessed to have them in abundance)
The holidays (specifically for the chocolate-covered pretzels)
My ambition (if you see me pulling my hair out and double fisting coffee don't worry, i asked for it- grad school be warned: i can give as good as i take!)
Every single breath since 10:20 on Dec 4th
The job that I love (even if its on a system that I hate)
Underwire bras (droopy boobs- 3rd shift duty only)
A BFF who always knows what to say (even if she wants to say "i told you!")
Kwik Trip Coffee (without which i may never make it through a workday)
In-laws (no jokes here...they are fabulous)
Each fantasy football win (come on big money...no wammys!)
Alone time (sweet sweet alone time. you know, like the car ride between leaving work and picking up brady)
My healthy (as can be expected) family- and I have a big family!
For all of you loyal readers!

2 years and counting

2010-11-03T10:19:00.006-05:00

I can't believe that I started blogging around this time two years ago. I'd like to think that I have a loyal following, but it's tough to tell with my inconsistent blogging. I mean, how many posts have I made in these two years? Hold on, let me check: Ok-just checked, 47. From 10-7-2008 til now. Pathetic really. But I was thinking about my blogging origins because it was at a library conference where I really decided to do something with the blog. And I find myself lucky enough to be at another library conference. It seems only prudent to blog during this one also. Here I sit at the Internet Cafe in room in the Kalahari Resort and Convention Center in Wisconsin Dells. Yes, you read right...the dells. And no, I have not yet skipped a workshop to dip into the wavepool or go indoor bowling or ride down the lazy river....but that's mostly because the conference has barely started yet. Ha! I've got two hours inbetween two sessions where I'm supposed to be feeding my face. But for once in my life, I think my stomach may have to hold off. I mean, waterpark hottub- hotel food. Not a tough decision. Don't get me wrong (or all wrong, at least)- I'm very excited that I've been given the opportunity to mingle with other librarians from around the state (yes, it is ironic that I'm blogging and not mingling right now). I'm also excited for some of the workshops, although I think I will pass on the "Raiders of the Lost ARCs: Adventuers in Local Digitization." But mostly, I'm just really excited to get a couple of paid days out of the office and away from the library's new computer system: Symphony. Symphony and I aren't good friends. In fact, I'd cross the street to avoid idle conversation with Symphony. I'd even egg Symphony's house if I knew where it lived. Can I settle for egging the library in retaliation? The answer: No. Vandalism is a serious issue. Do NOT vandalize your neighborhood library. And certainly do NOT print this blog as fodder for your local library--as chances are your local library IS my library. Enacting gag order now. And with that, I'm off to: How we hacked Wordpress-A Crash Course for Librarians. Yes, blogger, I may be cheating on you- it depends on how strongly wordpress comes on to me...and also if it buys me a drink.

The Perfect Halloween Costume

2010-10-20T07:22:00.004-05:00

I was brushing my teeth the other morning when this bolt of inspiration hit. I know exactly what I am going to dress up as for Halloween. As many of you know, there are seven dwarfs in the Snow White tale. Well, I am going to be the eighth. There is already: bashful, doc, grumpy, sneezy, dopey, sleepy, and happy. And coming in 2010: Droopy. I have very little prep work for this costume: my eyes are already constantly droopy from sleep. My boobs haven't been perky since before the booby fairy came with brady and my stomach has drooped so low that i have to check sometimes to make sure i'm not accidentally wearing a fanny pack. To top it all off, i've apparently already aged at an alarming rate (no, really. I have the cracked elbows to prove it). Case in point:

Last week Wednesday I got a call from one of my co-workers at the library. She asked if I would run an errand for her before I came into work at noon. She needed to pick up purple t-shirts at Hobby Lobby for her daughter's senior volleyball night. I, being the best co-worker in the whole world (co-workers, please remember to bring in chocolate to show your appreciation!) set off with Brian and Brady on our quest for the shirts. We needed 1 medium and 2 smalls. After finding their purple shirt selection pretty decimated, we decided on 3 medium shirts. The only other option was kids XL- but they were too short in the torso to work for tall volleyballers. After settling this, we walked up to the checkout. On our way, we were stopped by a nice looking lady:
Her: Excuse me
Me: (turn around)
Her: I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. Are you picking up shirts for volleyball.
Me: Yes.
Her: Yeah, my daughter asked me to run here and get one for her, but she needs a small. And they are all out. Did you go with mediums instead?
Me: Yep. The childs XLs were too short.
Her: (She hold up both a medium and child XL) Oh well. I'll get both and return one. What else is new.
Me: (laugh kindly...why is this lady still talking)
Her: Hey, who's your daughter?
Me: huh?
Her: The t-shirts, what's your daughter's name?
Me: Umm..I'm picking them up for a co-worker, her daughter goes to SW.
Her: Oh, that's really nice. I wish I had someone to run errands for me (no joke, she said this).
Me: (laugh kindly...is she still talking)
Awkward silence...and we part ways.
I turn to Brian (who was silent during this exchange): OMG! Do I Look Old Enough To Have a Daughter in High School!??!?!?

My only conclusion...she must have seen my droopy butt and concluded i was "of a certain age."

Purging Possibilities

2010-09-19T09:38:00.005-05:00

People always ask me if I've read any good books lately. Easy, the answer is always yes. Recently, it's been pretty difficult to fit in time to read. But I've always got some choice titles up my sleeve that I can refer to people. The thing about that question is that people don't REALLY want to know if I've read any good books. They want to know if I've read any books that match their already preset tastes. For example, if you normally read Nicholas Sparks and you ask me if I've read any good books lately. Why, yes, I have. But none that you would enjoy. If you like Jack Higgins, I've got nothing. I can recommend read-a-likes, but nothing I've actually read. Here's what I got: a smattering of across the board fantastic titles, a few feel-good "lazy beach" reads, a handful of really really funny books, a good chunk of novels written for teens with crossover appeal for adults, and a sh*t-ton of titles where truly terrible things happen. This is my specialty.

I LOVE to read books where there is some kind of terrible, terrible family tragedy. I've read 'Love and Other Impossible Pursuits' where the mother accidentally smothers her newborn during a nighttime breastfeeding. I've read 'We Need to Talk about Kevin' where a teen goes Columbine on not only his school but his family- and no character in the book is even remotely likable or sympathetic. I've read 'Songs for the Missing' where a teenage girl gets abducted and the whole town searches for her, only to find her body years later. I've read 'The Road' where the entire world is destroyed leaving behind just a few people, mostly cannibals, and a father-son duo who know that suicide may be the only way out. And on, and on like this.

And here's why: I have some twisted logic that says that if I read about these things, I am then protected from them ever entering my life. So, if I read about a child abduction, I am saving Brady from this fate. If I read about a horrific car crash, this will not be my family's destiny. If I read about a drug addicts spiraling world, then it cannot happen to my loved ones. Does this make any real sense? Nope. And yet, what if there's a little piece of truth to it? Can I really afford NOT to read these terrible things? I have an inkling that this justification is closely akin to a lot of psychological issues: OCD (what IF they don't turn the light off twice, can they afford to find out?), Hoarding (what IF they threw that out and needed it, can't afford to do that), etc.

So, long story short- I may be crazy. But, no worries, I hide it well (...until now).

Surgery already!?

2010-09-10T14:23:00.007-05:00

Let me start this post by stating outright that the surgery Brady had today was VERY minor and I realize many parents go through far worse things for their children. With that said, this was MY child and so I will share my anxiety and the outcome with you all. At around three months old, we noticed Brady had a small "spot" on his upper back. We let his pediatrician know about it at the four month visit and he told us to keep an eye on it. We started to notice that it changed color and would either be flush with the skin or raised up like a mole. So, ever the vigilant parents we are- we photographed one day where we thought it looked particularly troublesome. That picture is below:After the 6 month visit, the doc referred us to a plastic surgeon who could look at it and determine whether it should be removed. It took 45 days to get in to see the surgeon. (As he was only 180 days old, this seemed like a long time to wait.) The surgeon seemed to know exactly what it was (some really long medical name, but essentially a lesion/mole) and that later on in his life it had a 30% chance of being cancerous. Regardless what the doc said it was, I was hoping that he would want to pull it. (I don't like this "imperfection" on my perfect son!) Anyway, getting back to the story, the surgeon wanted to remove it so we set up an appointment for the surgery- another 40-odd days to wait. That brings us to today:

Because Brady is so young they had to perform this surgery at the hospital. If he was older, it would be an outpatient visit at the doctor's office (so, again, minor in the grand scheme of things). We had to report to the hospital for 5 am, surgery was scheduled for 7. We could not feed him after midnight- this was of great concern to us. Sure, SOMETIMES Brady goes that long without eating- usually he's passed out- and even then its certainly not nightly. So Brian and I set our alarms to get up at 11:30 and give him a bottle, then hope he went back to bed until we needed to wake him up at 4:30. All went according to plan (he was actually sleeping like a trooper, that little sh$t...sorry, leftover frustration from the previous night when he was TERRIBLE!). My sister, TJ, accompanied us to the hospital, so with our happy crew all set we arrived at St. Vincents.

The waiting was not as bad as we thought, Brady was mostly just tired and couldn't really figure out why we were up. He didn't complain at all about being hungry. He mostly just stared at all the people who kept talking to him and pokin around in his ears and such. In the surgery prep room we met all his nurses, the surgeon again, and the anesthesiologist. They all assured us they would take fabulous care of the little one and then they gave him a sticker. Brady spent the next few moments trying to tear it up and didn't even really notice that we were passing out hugs and kisses. Then we went to the waiting room to wait. Brian was out of patience after 20 minutes, I was surprisingly calm. Surgery took about 20 minutes, the recovery took about 40. Just as I was getting antsy, they said he was all set. So we went out to meet him. We could hear him in the hallway- poor little guy. He was fussy and not his usual self, but by the time they were ready to discharge him (maybe 30 minutes later) he was back to being Brady. As I type this, he's chasing Daddy and laughing.

Here's a picture of his soon-to-be scar. I was kind of surprised that it was this long, but it should heal nicely.

I'm so glad it went well, Brady recovered nicely, and, mostly, that its over. I didn't have my first surgery til I had him- Brady's only 9 months and already has one under in his belt. Hopefully he won't need to add any more notches to it, from surgery anyway- no idea how many notches he'll make with the ladies someday.

Disillusionment of Life

2010-08-08T20:18:00.004-05:00

Only eight months ago, Brady was a bright new shiny penny. Everyone wanted to ooo and ahh over him, pass him around, and ferret him away in their pocket for a rainy day. But now--oh but now. Lol. Now his penny has a little smudge on it. And no- it's not from his diddy. I JUST changed him. Its the smudge of knowledge. Yes, knowledge. Brady is starting to realize that he can do super cool things like: hold out his hands and get picked up or babble a little and have to whole room stop to listen. But also, he's starting to gain a little bit of disillusionment. Life is tough sometimes. Sometimes, you have to hold your own bottle. Sometimes, you have to sit on the floor and whine instead of getting held. Sometimes, just sometimes, you have to wait longer than 3.2 seconds for your food. Oh the horror of it all! And I wish I could protect him from some of it. Not the holding, whining, or waiting. But the stuff yet to come. One day he'll wake up and realize that he's not the cutest baby in the room (although this will probably be because he'll be the cutest TODDLER in the room). One day he'll realize that the cause-and-effect lesson mom was teaching him really means that when he climbs on the bookcase, he gets an owie. Bad yes, but as he grows older, it will just worsen. Life yields some tough tough lessons.
Exhibit a-f:
1.) When once everyone thought you sticking your hand down your pants was cute, now they run home to check for you on the "sex-offender" website.

2.) When once you thought you were the smartest person in the world because you learned how to walk, now you learn that a giraffe does that in the first hour of life.

3.) When once you thought school would be an all day playground of fun, now you realize that its a black hole of adolescence angst- and you are not immune.

4.) When once you thought getting your license would be the ultimate payback to your oppressive parents, now you realize it was their plan all along to make you the family taxi.

5.) When once you thought that sex was just like the romance books: roses and fireworks, now you learn that its really more like dandelions and sparklers. From this you may never recover.

6.) When once you thought making a family was the American way, now you realize that its was your repressed desire to play with toys again.

7.) When once you thought writing a blog would be an amusing way to pass the time, now you realize that its an amusing way to pass the time. Oops...that one's on the up and up. Thanks life, for playing it straight just this once.

And now for an absolutely adorable photo of a little guy ready to take on the world!

Happy Independence Day!

2010-07-03T13:34:00.009-05:00

Tomorrow the country turns 234 and my little guy turns 7 months. I can't believe how independent Brady is becoming. It didn't seem that long ago when he could barely lift his head. Now he's rolling over, sitting up, and reaching out. I love that last part. I know that too soon, I will come to despise that part of his "independence." But, for now, I love watching Brady as he reaches and grabs for things. His brows furrow in concentration and each day he gets better at picking an object up, instead of pushing it accidently out of his reach. And I LOVE how he can play by himself a little bit. Most of the time, he's so into his toys that he could care less if you're in the room or not. We'll sit him on floor with some toys, then Brian and I will head out to Target and get some ice cream and.... Ha, just kidding. No calling social services on us- unless you want them to see an example of model parenting! (wow, just re-read this post.) I've used the world "love" a lot so far. I think i might be a bit infatuated with the fella. And with a face like this- how could you not?!

This photo comes from a photo shoot we had done at JC Penny. They had a fantastic 50% off portrait purchase deal going on, and we had a couple of gift cards, so I figured the time was right to get some photos taken. I wanted to wait until Brady was old enough to sit up on his own and smile on command (most of the time). I also wanted to wait so that when we have a second kid (when, not if...right bri?), we don't have to feel guilty about the BAJILLION pics we took of the firstborn. (That responsibility and guilt lies primarliy with you, Paula and Terri. You've set a precedent so that next child will expect hundreds of pictures also!) My major goal for the photo shoot was to not go overboard with purchasing. I wanted to get a good family shot and then one or two brady pics. Well, I picked up the pictures yesterday and realized that we got ONE family 8x10. Oops. Everything else was of Sir Fabulous. Who could blame me? But, realizing my error, I'll have to go back and re-order something so that I've got a "snapshot in time" of all of us.

If anyone is interested in looking at the photos from the shoot, here's the site: jcpportraits.com
Customer Name: Becky Phillips, Portrait Number: LTPP0051116443JCP

Enjoy!

We're on a Mission from God

2010-06-15T21:25:00.004-05:00

Warning: this post is a throwback. Unlike the postings of the last 15 months, this post is contains no mention of the miracle of life. (well- except for that sentence- oops). Welcome (back) to my wacky world-- where the blank blogger posts for personal amusement, instead of the amusement of others (although i often garner your amusement nonetheless). For those of you who are tuning out as i type...fear not, your regularly scheduled (or rather unscheduled, and randomly occurring) blogger will be back after these short messages.

The Ten Things I learned From the Blues Brothers
(yes, the movie. rent it. watch it. own it.)

1. Aretha Franklin is one sass of a redhead with one helluva bosom. Kudos Aretha. Kudos.
2. John Belushi looks nothing like Jim Belushi. Rather alarming for the first 6 minutes of the movie.
3. There can be great value in securing an old police junker for personal use.
4. It's cool to wear sunglasses at night. It's just not cool to sing about it. Yeah, I'm talking to you Corey Hart....thanks for listening.
5. Shake Your Tail Feather sounds a lot like Twist and Shout- regardless of what Brian says.
6. Bob Ross, painter extraordinaire, had a double life as a member of the Blues Brothers Band. Ladies and gents. I give you, Bob Ross and Donald "Duck" Dunn

7. "please remember people that no matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive and survive there are still some things that make us all the same. You, me, them, everybody, everybody!"
8. Carrie Fisher looks better toteing a rocket launcher than CP30's oil can.
9. The complete disregard for human life or the preservation of personal property is really quite alarming. But not as off-putting when paired with a well-timed blues soundtrack.
10. It's pretty damn badass to be simultaneously wanted by the entire Illinois Police Department, the Nazi Party, an ex-girlfriend, and a country-western band.

Birthdays, Mothers Day, and Everything Inbetween

2010-05-12T07:43:00.008-05:00

Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday Dear (deer?! Ha!) Becky- you've given yourself 4 days off work! I decided to take some time off after my birthday, so I worked a half day on Wednesday (the 28th...for those of you shameful enough to admit your ignorance of this important date) and then off for thursday, friday, saturday, and sunday. Well, I worked the theater on Sunday, so not QUITE a day off, but close. On any other given year, this might have been a full out drunken blowout (throwing up outside the Razz perhaps) or a vacation with the hubby (San Diego anyone?). Instead, I spent it quietly at home- just hanging out my boys. The great American Staycation of 2010. We took Brady to the N.E.W. Zoo. It was fun just being outside, even if Brady didn't get much out of it. What seemed to fascinate him the most: the ducks. He loved watching them get in the water and splash around. He seems really attracted to water- must take after his mommy. I can't wait to take him up to my Uncle Howie's cabin this summer. Its right off the bay and I have so many great memories of growing up there- I want Brady to have similar ones. Anyway- back to the zoo. The giraffes were out feeding and it was so funny because one of the giraffes was about a foot away from Brady's face (the giraffe's whole head is bigger than Brady). And he was MUCH more interested in the volunteer. What's that? a gi-normous creature I've never seen before? No thanks. This guy over here has a beard and is talking to me (or really to the crowd- my boy is SO self centered that way!)

Mother's Day. Guess what I found out? This day isn't a free pass. Well, shitski. Someone could have warned me of that. I thought Brady would be engineered out of the womb to recognize this day and behave accordingly. Unfortunately, either this presumption turns out to be false, or Brady didn't get the memo. The little bugger still wanted his diaper changed, his food on time, and other pesky life details. So- this day passed like many others: in sheer exhaustion. It was brightened by the presents though. A cute little card (that the little guy didn't even BOTHER to sign, geez..what is he a teenager?!) and a hanging basket of purple petunias. Brian says he took Brady to Steins and let him see and touch all the flowers. Then he went back down the aisle and whatever Brady grabbed at was the gift I received. So he really did "pick out" my mother's day gift. What a sweetie--both Brian and my little buddy.

They grow up so quickly. Brady is already five months old. I don't know where the time went. I've looked and looked around for those missing minutes, hours, and days- but to no avail ( and they certainly couldn't be found in my bed- i checked). Brady is already growing up so much. And although he's well behind in the "rolling over" milestone, he's practically got the standing while assisted down pat. He's also a trooper at holding his own bottle and taking out his pacifier. This takes patience though, because he knows how to play with it in his mouth, so he pulls it out and puts it back in and repeats until he's ready to resume eating (or sucking). And lately (and this is SO cute) he's taken to "helping" turn the pages of the books we read at night. I kid you not. I'll try to have Brian videotape it sometime. It's adorable. And I KNOW I dress him like a little man, but sometimes, that completely backfires and he looks like a LITTLE MAN. We took this picture on the 29th of April (so not quite 5 months old yet) and he looks like he's 5 years old. And if that's the case: then he's WAY behind the milestones! We missed potty training, and solid foods, and the ABCs, and school. Not to mention crawling, sitting, standing, running, coloring on the walls, throwing tantrums in the store, sass talking to mommy---wait a minute. Maybe time travel IS a good thing!

It happened today...

2010-04-27T20:31:00.004-05:00

Today started out like so many others: I sometimes work the evening shift at the library so that means I don't go in until noon- today was one of those days. Brady got up about 8:15 (please don't be SUPER impressed, he was up at 5 to eat) and then we played, got dressed, etc. Paula came over and played with him while i cleaned the house. (An early birthday present to myself- not having to clean while i have 2.5 days off this week). Then I kissed my little guy goodbye and off to work I went. Don't worry- I'm getting to the real story. Picture me hard at work...ok- picture me a little thinner (it's almost my birthday, be generous) and pretending to be hard at work. Yes, that makes a better picture. So, here I am sitting at my desk at work (look at those Brady pictures on the ledge...and ALL that paperwork scattered on the desk), and i drop a paperclip into my lap. No big deal--except that when i look down, i notice i have spit-up on my pants. GREAT! JUST GREAT! I'm one of THOSE moms. Ugh! Picture me--half laughing, half embarrassed, it's not a tremendous amount of spit-up. I don't think my co-workers would have really noticed...or maybe they would have been polite enough to assume I just can't hit my mouth when eating lunch. But, no, I've brought my kid to work- or more accurately, I've brought half-digested remnants of my child as a souvenir. Add this to the list of things I wasn't going to do as a mother. I call it the "I was a really together and totally fabulous mother--before I had a child" list. Included on there:
I would never give MY kid a pacifier.
I would never let MY kid sleep in our room "just cuz its easier."
I would never let MY kid play with guns (he's already got action figures with guns-sad face)
I would never let MY kid ride in the car unbuckled- no matter how short the ride is (we only were across the street--please don't tell child services)
I would never call MY husband "daddy" when not referring directly to "daddy" services.

Please feel free to add to this list with your own things...or if you're childless- things you KNOW you'll never do!

I'm too young to have kids

2010-04-03T10:28:00.007-05:00

That's what I found out today at work. I answered a phone call at the library today from a patron needing to extend her hold because her kids didn't give her the message. This is a direct quote from her "You sound too young to have kids, so you don't know that they aren't bothered with anything but themselves. I never got the message." First off, her hold was already gone- si-a-narya, nothing I can do about it. Second off, I'm slightly insulted. My generation has thrived on breaking social norms. No longer do we strive for the perfect 2.5 kids with a white picket fence. We've been knocking that down and knocking ourselves up since high school. Too young to have kids?? I'm way behind the curve. I should have a 9 year old--5 year old at least. Lady, we can't keep our pants on long enough to get eloped and make it proper. So lesson learned: do not judge thou by the age in my voice, but by the size of my welfare check.

Suprise!

2010-04-02T10:38:00.012-05:00

We're pregnant again! Nah- can't even let that joke last past one line. But this week has been filled with some great (and some not so great surprises).

- Last Friday Brady, Brian, and I were enjoying a fabulous and rare day off for all of us. Then about four o'clock buddy just started wailing. All week he had been acting a little odd. Nothing big, but not talking as much and napping more, etc. Coupled with the wailing we decided to bring him into the doctor. We don't want to be one of "THOSE" parents who bring their baby in for every sniffle, but we also didn't want to have to deal with him being sick over the weekend and paying for emergency care. SURPRISE- another ear infection. So we're back on antibiotics. The doc wasn't sure whether it was a new infection, or a carryover from the last one. I'm glad we went in, but I hope this is the last time for a while. We see the doctor again on Monday for Brady's 4 month check-up, so we'll now for sure then. For now, I'm thinking about ordering new ears on amazon. I think Brady would grow into them:

ha.ha.

-Some people look forward to the snow melting, some look forward to the warmer weather, some look forward to St. Patty's day, but I look forward to March for one reason only: March Madness. I love filling out the bracket- acting like I know who the Cinderella teams are this year- which number ones are worthy of the placement, etc. This year was full of upsets and by the end of the first weekend: SURPRISE--you're out of it. Thanks for your $5.00, we'll see you next year. Seeing as everyone's bracket sucks, I can't be too upset this year, but last year I lost the pool by the hair on my daddy's chinny-chin-chin and dammit...i was hoping for bragging rights.

-Many of you know that I've been working at the theater even since Brady's been born. Although truthfully I see that place about as much as I see the health food store--from the highway and always passing it right on by. Nah, really, I work about one shift a month and also do the workers schedule. Tuesday my boss sends out the schedule to everyone. I didn't put myself on this one, so I didn't even look at it. But Brian's curious, so he checks it out. Then he asks "you still workin there, right?" "Huh?" I say right back. Then I go over and look at the email: SURPRISE- my name's not on it. "Huh." I say again. So I email Steve-o asking whether I should take the not-so-subtle hint to edit my resume. He emails back on Thursday saying that he "likes me too much" and wouldn't fire me like that. But he did want me to stop in and have a chat. Sigh. Alright. So today I tromped on over and sat down for a one-on-one. Turns out he missed my pretty face and he wanted me to re-affirm how much I missed his. I'm pretty sure both of us were lying, but we're both okay with things keepin on as they've been keepin on. Damn straight- I'll make my schedule how I want, and you'll be grateful for my contributions :)

-Last surprise of the week- and the best one yet. Brian called me at work Monday night. He couldn't wait to tell me: SURPRISE- Brady laughed- for the first time. He's been trying to for weeks, but it only comes out as a big smile and a grunt (not much different from his "I'm poopin" smile and grunt). I ask Brian if he's sure- and he assures me that he made him laugh a bunch of times in a row to make sure Brady meant it. I'm smiling on my end of the conversation, but cursin too. Dammit, Brady. We had an agreement- no doing anything cute, adorable, new, or fun without me present- at least not until your 15. I told Paula about it the next day when I dropped B off and when I picked him up, she shows me how she got him to laugh too. I'm happy to hear it, but cursin' on the inside- dammit, B. I know you're no circus monkey, but perform on demand for mama! I'll give you a cookie (yep, a bribe and a lie all rolled into one!). But last night, I used Paula's technique, and lookie that- Brady giggled and giggled and giggled. And because some of you are too far away to hear his laugh in the next couple of weeks/months, I've put a video here for your viewing pleasure. Feel free to send cookies so we can get him to preform more (cookies are proven to be the best bribe because at this age, he can't eat them- so mommy gets too!)

If it's not one thing, it's another

2010-03-22T21:52:00.004-05:00

This past Thursday Brian and I decided to try an experiment with Brady. This decision to experiment did not come lightly. When you experiment, you run the risk of loosing what you have already- in this instance, a good nights sleep. Like the experiment to put Brady in his crib after 3 weeks. Am I going to get more sleep because he's not in my room grunting every 60 seconds or less sleep because I'll be up checking on him every 90 seconds? And the decision to stop giving him prune juice in his evening bottles. Will he be up more because he's gassy or less because he doesn't need to be poopin? (for my non-mom friends, I apologize that once again this post mentions my son's diaper happenings...I've tried to come to grips with the reality that this is part of my conversational life now. But, by all means, please don't stop trying to engage me in conversations about the new health care bill or the progress in Darfur, or even this week's People article about Suri Cruise holding a handbag worth half my paycheck).

So this experiment we took on regards swaddling Brady. He's over 3 months old and much too long for his preferred swaddle. The manufacturers call it the magic blanket, we call it a straight jacket swaddle. If you saw it, you'd agree. It pins down both his arms with separate flaps, tucks his legs in a sack, throws another flap on top of those and then a third flap that wraps all around him-twice. He was basically my baby burrito in a deep blue swaddle. Since he's outgrown that one, we've been using one Brian's cousin gave us. It uses Velcro instead of intense flap-tucking, although the result is similar. Regardless, we've been thinking about unswaddling him. Letting my little kickin, stretchin, gruntin' man free. So- Thursday night, we throw him in a sleeping gown (little known fact: he hates footie clothes- which is sad cuz its so darn cute to see him with little dinosaur feet or bear paws), and hope for the best. Well- UGH! He's up at 12:30, 1:45, 2:30, 3:40, 4:15, 4:30. Finally at 5 I decided to feed him. Then put him back to bed by 5:30, and he's up again by 7. What a colossal failure!! Now I'm exhausted, he's exhausted, Brian's exhausted and we have nada to show for it. But perseverance is the stuff they write about in Presidents' biographies and crack-addict memoirs, so we kept on.

To date- he's been sleeping MUCH better...only waking up once or twice to find his paci and then up at 5:30 to eat. He then goes back to sleep til around 7. All good news. I'm hoping in the coming weeks he ditches the paci and learns to find his fist at night (he's a regular hide-and-seek champ during the daytime). Long story short- asylum for the criminally fatigued averted for another day.

Same Ole' Song and Dance

2010-03-14T15:25:00.005-05:00

I, darn it, had been doing decent at blogging. But then it all fell to the wayside. I had been meaning to blog on Brady's 3 month birthday- but that was ten days ago and I'm just getting to it now. Here is a little peek at why.

Last week, Thursday, my dad turned 64. And my son turned 3 months. It was awesome having the birthdays land together on the same day because I am so incredibly fortunate to have them both in my life. With everything my dad has been through in the last year and half, it's pretty miraculous to have him up and about and cancer free. And Brady is constantly my little miracle. I still don't understand how babies are made (no need to inform me of how babies are conceived- that much I got down). Anyway, I wanted to do something special for my dad's birthday from Brady (besides the ginormous Indiana Jones Lego set that he got for dad). So the week leading up to it, I attempted to make a little video of Brady. I'll post it here with high hopes that it will play for you.

Thursday I invited my mom and dad over for dinner and a movie (not Brady's movie, but one of my dad's choosing). I was so excited to have them over and to cook dad one of his (and my) favorite dinners: ring bologna and butter noodles. I know, one word: CLASSY! When my folks got here we gave dad his birthday present (the movie and the legos) and then had dinner. We watched Public Enemies and then they went home. It was very low-key, but a great night.

Later that night...we were awoken by Brady SCREAMING at 3 am. Not the "i'm hungry" cry or the "i want my paci" whine, but a "this hurts like hell where are you mom and dad" cry. Brian actually reached him before I did and lifted him up. He started coughing and coughing and coughing. Then when he'd stop he'd cry the "OUCH!" cry. Then he'd look up at me with tears in his eyes and expect me to make it better. After about an hour of this, he calmed down enough that we gave him a bottle...which he then proceeded to throw up all over me. Eww and Ugh and Aww all combined into one. So Friday morning we brought him into the doctor: ear infection and bronchitis. Poor little guy. 10 days later he's just finishing up his medicine and sleeping back in his own crib.

So to summarize. It's been a long week. Be patient. I have intentions to post again soon.

They're Here! They're Here!

2010-02-21T11:39:00.007-06:00

Yum! Yum! Yum! I have just consumed the first of many, many pieces of this delicious candy. In case you have been living under a rock for the past bajillion years---the candy pictured are Robin's Eggs. I LOVE easter because of these delectable treats (is that blasphemy? Shouldn't I love easter for other, more spiritual reasons?). I saw the aforementioned deliciousness at Target today and practically wet my pants...but then i remembered that was Brady's department.

This week I went back to work- no more slothing about. I'll have to figure out how to substitute that with one of the other seven deadly sins (based on the previous paragraph, i'm thinking gluttony...mmm..gluttony!)

Brady and I last week Sunday

On Monday I had to work at noon and I had asked Paula to come over in the morning to hang out. This way, when it came time to leave- she would take Brady in her car and I would leave in mine, thus avoiding the "drop-off" for another day. That morning we put his high chair together (one of those that sits on a kitchen chair to save space) and since then have been using it periodically. Sometimes he likes to be a big boy and see everything...other time he's pretty ticked off that we are sitting NEXT to him instead of WITH him.

High chair hilarity

Tuesday morning I had to get B and I out of the house and to Paula's for 8am. When Brady squawked at 4am I decided instead of pushing food off til 5, I would just feed him at 4. This lent to him being fed at 7 instead of 8 (during the crucial drop off period) and also allowed me to go back to sleep for another 1.5 hours. Once the alarm (of which i have not used in 3 months) went off, it was up up and go! No worries though, I overplanned and even had time to stop for coffee before heading into work.

Wednesdays are Brian's day off...and thus, it was Brian's turn to get up with him in the middle of the night. Brian tried hard to hold Brady off and feed him later at night (10:30) in hopes that he would sleep longer during the night. Brady typically sleeps for a long chunk of time (5-6 hours) but only does it once a night. After that he's up every 3 like clockwork. So, needless to say, brian's plan totally backfired. Little buddy was up at 3:30, 3:45, 4, 4:30--then Brian gave up and fed him his bottle. Although being the control freak that I am- I was up the whole time laying in bed thinking: is he eating ok? did Brian burp him? did he take and unswaddle Brady? is he going to change his diaper? will he make sure he burps before laying him back down? will Brady fall back to sleep ok for him? Ahh--shut it down Beck! Shut.it.down. I did manage to fall asleep before Brian returned to bed, but I felt afterwards that it was pretty pointless that both of us were up. And speaking of up, when Brady got up in the morning I fed him and got him dressed for the day (i was up early anyway- a result of my stubborn refusal to reset the alarm). However, I wasn't planning on feeding B, so i had my work clothes on already. Needless to say Brady spit up all down my back and I had to change my shirt and was late for work. Sigh.

Thursday I worked the later shift so no need to get Brady up ridiculously early. Which was ironic because that was the first night Brady slept 8 hours straight! By then I was feeling like maybe we had a good thing going. He sleeps, I shower and get ready. I sit down to eat my breakfast and he decides to interrupt it with his crying and general neediness. Ugh.

Friday I had off so yippee for that! (Although i discovered some pretty terrible news- Hansens is closed for good. All of them. No more pizza. No more ice cream. No more pizza. Tears are streaming down my face as i retell this tragic tale)

Saturday I went to work and it was much the same as Wednesday (minus the spitting up on my clothes)...but it was pretty hard to leave because Brady was being SUPER cute. He is more of a morning baby and after his bottle he is usually really smiley and talkative for about 45 minutes. It's sooo cute and I was jealous that Brian got to stay home and I had to work. Good thing I worked with awesome people or it would have been awful.

Sunday- Robin's Eggs!!

And that leaves me with the realization that this is my life now. Stupid two income households. Stupid me liking my job so much. Stupid patience levels that wouldn't really tolerate full time buddy time. Stupid being a girl and wanting too many things that I can't have. Stupid robins eggs not being fat free, sugar free, and calorie free.

Happy Valentine's Day!

2010-02-14T21:22:00.015-06:00

One of my friends on facebook called today: Happy Single Person Awareness Day...and it made me laugh...and then i cringed for laughing, because clearly they were single and what kind of person experiences joy from that? Unless you're one of those bachelors who likes to live it up with the ladies. Or one of those self-proclaimed feminists (although i feel that term was outdated before it was termed that!). And even then i struggle to think that they would be happy single. If so, celebrate on my friend...but don't tell me i'm wrong. i hate to hear that :)

This Valentine's Day, like pretty much every day of my life, has been a new experience for me. You may have met my sweetheart (you may not have- in which case i disown you--unless you're my grandma--love you...hurry back to WI; it's not THAT cold anymore!). If you have met my sweetheart of nine plus weeks, I hope he was ultra-cute for you. He has been doing the most adorable smiles and coo'ing lately. Truly he has melt my heart today better than any flowers and chocolate can (with the possible exception of dove milk chocolates with caramel---sorry Brady, they are delish!). I have taken this turn of personality to my advantage and subjected him to a photo shoot. I am sharing those photos here for your enjoyment-even posting them has made me smile and laugh.

Tomorrow I go back to work (anyone win the lottery last week? let me re-phrase, anyone win the lottery last week who would like to share it with me so i can avoid having to return to work?) No less than every hour of today have I felt either guilty, sad, petrified, or all of the above. I did try hard to make this last weekend as happy and productive and family filled as I could. Brian did a fantastic job at making the weekend seem special (and not just because of V-Day; although that helps). Among other things, he bought me a beautiful necklace with Brady's birthstone in it. I can't wait to wear it tomorrow and always. And don't worry friends...i was practical and got the lifetime warranty on it- they even replace chains that are broken from tiny fingers pulling on mommy's shiny plaything. On the verge of being sickeningly sweet on the sweetest of all days, I would like to say how absolutely fortunate I am to have a fabulous husband and a beautiful baby boy. And now without further ado--Brady pics!!

Here he chillin with the V-day Bear!
He was a little unsure of big bear...But then he was all smiles...

Until our star was done--taking down the set!

2 Months and T- minus 2 weeks to go

2010-02-04T17:17:00.006-06:00

Today Brady had his two month doctor check-up. Nothing too exciting to report: he's 11lbs 11oz; 24 inches long, and shot full of immunizations. The doc says that he's ahead of the game in some stuff--but we all knew he was a genius. He is very alert and follows people and objects a full 180 degrees. I try not to be TOO put out when he follows Brian as he leaves every morning, then gives me this look like "Great, now I lost my playmate. I'll just have to cry and have you cuddle me all day!" Little B can also push himself up with his arms when on his tummy. He hates tummy time right now, but tough cookies. (Probably another reason why he misses Daddy during the day!) The doc was also impressed with his sleeping habits, so I will be too.

Last week Brian and I went on our anniversary weekend and Brady stayed with my parents and sister. When I called Saturday morning to find out how he was doing, the fam claimed my little B had slept through the night. I couldn't believe it. I mean, sure, I had a talk with Brady about being good for others--but I didn't mean THAT good. Way to spoil them Brady! He stayed over a second night and slept through the night again. When I got him home on Sunday, back in familiar settings, I was sure he would fall back into his normal sleeping schedule (up at 1:30 and 4:30). But Brady surprised me. It seems that he hit the 8 week mark and decided he could sleep for 8 hours. Now granted he doesn't always hit the hay late enough at night for me to get a full 8 hours, but I'll take what I can get. This couldn't come soon enough because in less than two weeks I go back to work. I can't decide yet whether I am excited (its been TOO long since I fondled new books!) or dreading it (how early do I have to get up to the this household out the door in the morning?).

Here's to living it up next week: anyone up for some afternoon tea? :)

The Trifecta

2010-01-20T14:56:00.004-06:00

An amusing tale for those who don't have to deal with babies:

Yesterday I fed Brady and then went to change this diaper. Placing him on the diaper changing station (fancy terms for "on top of the dresser"), I unsnap his onsie and undo his diaper flaps. Eeww--poopy pants! I reach for a wipe, only to turn back (.1 seconds later) to find my adorable son's foot covered in poo. Brady! Don't put your feet down! So I begin to clean off his foot with the wipe now in my hand and look over at his face. Only to discover he's spitting up. Like really spitting up. Ugh! Abandon foot, grab burp cloth, stave off flow of spit up. As I start to clean off his face I turn back to make sure his feet are out of the danger zone, only to discover he's peeing. Straight up- all over everything. Ahhh...I don't have 6 hands! I can't hold his feet, clean his face, and strap on a new diaper all at the same time. As a result of my inability to grow arms like the Hindu Ganesha my little bundle of joy got a bath. The joys of motherhood---right?

On a lighter note: check out this photo Terri Jo took over the weekend

Another year but with bright new beginnings!

2010-01-01T08:10:00.007-06:00

Today my little B is one month old. I can't believe its been four weeks. Its amazing how much I've already learned about the little guy. I know his fussy noises, what his grunts mean, how he likes to "snack" at the 2 am feeding, how he's up after the 7 am feeding, how he LOVES the car because it puts him in a coma, etc. I can't wait for him to show me more about what he knows. By the way, is it too early to start baby sign language--it'd be SO much easier if he could just tell me that he wants to go to Grandma's house during fussy time :)

Brady: One Day Old

Brady: One Month Old

As 2010 starts (just 8 hours underway), I find myself thinking about the new year's resolutions I made last year. For those of you who don't remember, I've posted them here-word for word.

A recap from 2009:

1.) make healthier choices (i.e. water over soda, sandwiches over pizza, chocolate covered pretzels over....well, maybe we can let that one slide)
2.) progress the American Ideal (i.e. try to have a baby-and maybe a house with a white picket fence)
3.) find a way back into the church (this kind of reminds me of the movie Music and Lyrics when they sing that "find a way back into love" song)
4.) work on lessening my consumer driven life (i.e. do i REALLY need that new sweater? well, yes...but just posing the question is a step in the right direction....right?)
5 a.) stay more in touch with those i don't see very often (i.e. do sentimental things like send "thinking of you" cards in the mail)
5 b.) work on being that totally awesome person who sends cards through the mail for birthdays and anniversaries and then actually gets them there on time
6.) work on easier new year's resolutions for 2010.

So...how'd I do?
1.) Healthier choices: check. Although to be fair I did it because I was pregnant. Maybe that will have to go back on the list for 2010.
2.) Progress the American Ideal: check. Procreating is a national pastime and although I didn't do it when I was 16 like today's youth, I did it all the same.
3.) Church: fail. I did GO to church a couple of times, but not enough to join. And now I'm left with the baptism question--this is why I tried to plan ahead. Damn procrastination. Now everyone will think I'm joining a church so my kid doesn't become a heathen...and they'll know that I won't bring him back every week and it'll all be a big farce. Ahhh
4.) Consume less: check. Although to be fair, I bought less clothes because I was getting fatter every day- not because I felt I should own less. Again, that might have to go back on the list.
5.) Stay in touch: fail. Utter and complete failure. Although I think I might have possibly maybe sent my Grandma a birthday card last year...does that count?
6.) Easier new years resolutions for 2010: check.

My 2010 resolution: keep my family alive and thriving!

(Although is that really easier than sending out cards or eating veggies?!)

It's Getting Easier...

2009-12-28T15:38:00.007-06:00

What a bold lie I just told. 3.5 weeks into parenthood and I'm still trying to grasp at anything resembling a straw. Every time I get my hand on a straw it turns into one of those weird bendy ones and takes me for a spin. I thought I was getting the hang of changing little man's diapers, but lo and behold I've been pooped on twice and today he peed into his hair and then into my hand (to save the outfit...my hand is washable for less than a dollar a load!). I thought my body was getting used to sleep deprivation, and then I realized that at this point my body is too tired to even know that its deprived. I thought that I could handle him being fussy, but then two nights in a row he had a 2 hour screaming match with himself (he won, by the way). I thought I was getting a hang of feeding him every 3 hours, but then he's gone on eating jags where it feels like he's permanently fused to my boobs. I thought I could continue breastfeeding for months, but now I think formula is the way to go (although I haven't officially made up my mind). I thought he couldn't look much cuter than he does when he's staring up at me, but then I dressed him up for Christmas (see photo below!!). I thought his parent's were coming to pick him up, but then it turned out that we are his parents---and we don't get paid $7 an hour to watch him. Finally, I thought it would get easier, but in fact you just get used to the hard things and then new hard things come up to take their place.

Christmas Day (3 weeks old)

As Grandpa exclaimed "He looks like a 6 month old!"

A New Life

2009-12-15T14:23:00.004-06:00

I almost feel like I should start a new blog, As if the posts in this blog belong to someone else. How is it in the course of less than two weeks I feel like a completely different person. As you all know by now, Brian and I have a beautiful baby boy, Brady Thomas. Born December 4th (10 hours over his due date- thank you sweetpea) and weighing in at 7lbs 11oz. He could have come out a bit easier (4 hours of pushing and an emergency C-section) but it all turned out okay in the end. In truth, I'm secretly grateful for the c-section as I'm not sure I would have been ready to take peanut home after just 48 hours. I relished the nurses who would take care of him while i slept- not to mention the diapers that were magically refilled.

Anyway, it's been 11 days of new parenting and here are some things that I never thought I'd say, hear, or think:
- thank God for nipple cream
- isn't his "I'm pooping" face adorable?
- how can he come from just two cells? how do they know not to make 6 livers?
- maybe the hospital wants him back
- i'm completely out of made-up rhymes to fit "Hush Little Baby"
- he just pee'd on me; I'll have to call you back
- I've never been so jazzed to go to Target before: this is the highlight of my day
- God made babies cute so we don't kill them
- I want my mommy
- Why didn't anyone tell me how hard this is?
- How can you love someone so much so fast?

And for a Brady pic:

"What are you looking at?"

Ding! Goes the Kitchen Timer

2009-12-03T08:40:00.016-06:00

Sometime last night, or perhaps in the hours between 4 and 7 when I was not sleeping, I thought of a great analogy for today. Today- as some of you know- is baby's due date.

So let's start by baking a cake: you mix all the ingredients, put the mixture in the oven, set the timer, check on it occasionally, the timer goes off, stick a toothpick in it to see if its done, reset the timer, and repeat as needed. When done, enjoy life's delicious baked offering (obviously chocolate fudge in my case, but perhaps you prefer the marble or confetti flavors).

This is my pregnancy. I have mixed ingredients (no worries, I won't provide details). Batter is in the oven. It's been baking according to instruction. We've checked on it more than occasionally and today- the timer goes off. At 2:00 today I go to the doctors to see what's what. I'm pretty sure my toothpick will come back with a sign saying "not done yet." In which case, I may cry in frustration. The cake analogy wears thin here, as I'd like to say I can smell the damn delicious cake and I want to eat it now---but that doesn't quite translate unless I'm a cannibal. So I'll just say that I cooked it according to the box's instruction! I want my baby---and I want my ribs back!

Equally difficult during this waiting game is that I am off from work until the baby comes. This was my own doing as I had vacation time I needed to use before the end of the year. After today, however, I am dipping into my carryover funds...which I would just as soon prefer to use the county's time instead of mine. On the upside, I have been managing to get a lot done in the week I've been off. My major accomplishment already today: painting my toenails. I say major because bending is near impossible and seeing my toes is getting pretty darn difficult too. Of course, I was an idiot and chose a color that needs a second coat, so I'm going to let my ab crunchin' belly rest for a bit before attempting that.

In the meantime, I realize I haven't posted any pictures in awhile, so here are a few for your enjoyment:

The crib and beautifully decorated wall above the crib. My sister made the oil paintings and the wooden characters are works of art from my baby shower guests.

The opposite wall with the changing station. More oil paintings will be put up, but I love the effect of the vinyl dots (we can't really do any wall paint because of apartment living).

The final wall with the quilt Sue at work made for me. It hangs perfectly between the window and the wall and its the first thing you see when you walk in. All in all, I think we did a pretty good job of creating a theme without actually having any preset themed items.

And last but not least: a picture Paula took. After literally 9 months of asking I I finally gave in. Mostly because it occurred to me that any day now (hopefully today!) this belly of mine will be gone and I'll have no excuse to look this big again.

And the countdown begins...

2009-11-16T08:28:00.004-06:00

Dear baby,
Did you know the gestational period for an opossum is only 12 days? A chipmunk only 31 days? You and I have been together for 264 days. You are now due sometime between an opossum and a chipmunk being born. Please come hanging upside down...and soon. I ask this of you in return for having lovingly cared for you for 8.5 months. (please forget the last 132 days without enough fruit, vegetables, water, or exercise!) So basically, by "lovingly cared for you" i mean that i haven't had a margarita in 8 months. Sobriety = Love. I am pleading my case to you not only because i want to meet you, but also because i am tired. I'm tired of shallow breaths, I'm tired of peeing, I'm tired of backaches, I'm tired sleeping, I'm tired of "love jabs", I'm tired of being so darn tired. Having brought forth such overwhelming evidence that your arrival would be advantageous to me (and to you--think of the leg room in those sleepers!), please consider at least moving down towards the baby chute, which will simultaneously speed up your arrival and get you off my lungs...a win-win situation.

Love,
Mommy

Mistrails of a Pregnant Summer (err Fall), Part 3

2009-10-31T12:26:00.007-05:00

Ok- let me start out by prefacing this blog with the fact that I am VERY happy to be having a child and I know I am fortunate to be able to get pregnant and stay pregnant. That being said...

Uff-da!

The OB will be the end of me. I swear Clark (my doc) is trying his best to make this my only pregnancy...and all under the presumption that it's "good for me and the baby." I used to like seeing going to the doc; I looked forward to hearing the heartbeat and learning what was going on with the kiddo. Now-not so much. Here's a look at why:

Reason #1:

In one (count it ONE) lunch hour appointment, I had blood drawn (two vials, thank you vampire nurse), a flu shot given, and a shot for RH factor...in the butt. And the worst part was that the flu shot was on my left arm and the RH shot on my right buttcheck. So when I went to sleep that night it hurt to sleep on my left and my right. Of course, you're not supposed to sleep on your back or your stomach so I think it was designed for me to sleep standing up all night. And since that appointment, I've gotten stuck with another flu shot--thank you swine flu--clearly this is retaliation for all the ham I eat at Christmas time.

Reason #2:

Clark tells me that although he is very happy with my weight, diet, and exercise (shhh, don't tell him that my excerise consists of breathing and reading) i am to have absolutely no sugar. Yes, that's right ABSOLUTELY NO SUGAR. Our convo went something like this:

"Really, Clark, really? No Sugar?"
"Absolutely No Sugar"
"Not even a candy bar after dinner?"
"No"
"So- no sugar."
"Absolutely no sugar."
"Ooooookkkk"

Then I spent the next 48 hours fuming over this "recommendation." Do you know that your ketchup contains 4g of sugar? So, no ketchup. Did you know that vegetable soup contains sugar? So, no veggies (not really a hardship). Did you know that practically every bleepin' thing has sugar in it? Do you think it was Clark's intent that i survive solely on SPAM and Cheetos? So I finally get fed up and call the doc back. His PA (whom I love) claims that he says that to everyone because he doesn't want them to fatten up in the last couple of months--and so I should eat sugar in moderation.

Here's what I took from that:
First off, I had been letting myself go a bit so maybe the "reigning" in was warranted.
Second off, thank freakin God as Kwik Trip had free cappuccino the last two weeks.
Third off, there was no way I was giving up sugar so close to Halloween.

So- by moderation, I think they meant...don't gorge yourself on full sized candy bars, when bit-sized candy bars are readily available.

Reason #3:

The doctors office has become unpleasant as baby nears closer to arrival date simply bc they insist on talking about said arrival date. Please stop making me think about labor and delivery. I have tried very hard these last 35 weeks to bury my head in the sand about this whole "birthing" fiasco. It's unavoidable but not un-think-about-able. Do I need to know 5 weeks beforehand about pushing really hard after the head is out so that I don't cut of baby's blood supply? No-thanks for that added worry. Do I need to know 5 weeks beforehand about how a C-section now could cause death for me and any future babies should my uterus burst during pg #2? No-thanks for that pleasant nightmare. Do I need to know that my bacteria could cause the baby illness in the first .2 seconds of its out-of-uterus life? No-thanks for making me think I should be squirting Purrell up the baby chute.

If I had my way the drug program I would opt for would be: Nubain, Rohypnol, Epiderul. Thanks to the power of the epiderul and date rape drug, I would be pain free and memory free the whole time. What?! 34 hours in delivery? No problem. Pushing for 8 hours straight? Didn't feel a thing. Blood-covered, wrinkly child wailing uncontrollably after sliding down the baby chute? Don't even remember it.

Bring on baby #2---maybe with a doula or midwife this time!

Mistrials of a Pregnant Summer, Part Two

2009-08-06T07:54:00.004-05:00

I've always wondered how the phrase "ignorance is bliss" can be both 100% true AND 100% false. How is that possible? There are things that they just don't tell you about before you get pregnant. I've discovered there is a whole scary world out there when one is "with child." In ways I would have preferred the bliss (see: specifics of delivery- YIKES!)...but in other ways, it would have been nice to get a heads up.

You shoulda told me
Everyone knows pregnant women pee a lot. Fact. Unknown consideration: how much darn toilet paper that takes up. I mean, geez, I feel like I should go out and start planting my own national forest just to make up for all my extra trips to the bathroom. Charmin's CEO is out there spending my hard earned money on a new 40' yacht and sailing it to the tip of S. Africa. I'd chase him down, but I don't like to be more than 50 feet from a bathroom.

You could have kept that one to yourself
Without going into specifics-because god knows I really didn't want to know the details- I always thought a C-section would be a nice way to have a kid. In most cases, no water breaking during an inopportune moment (like every moment, cuz when are you ready for that!). Also, a nice scar to show how bad ass you are (you can always say that you were kidnapped and tortured and you have the scar to prove it...the truth isn't far off). Not to mention the relief of not having to push a 6ft fridge through a 4 ft doorway. But now that I'm actually "in the know"- I think I might prefer to birth a fridge. I mean, with a c-section what's the doc doing but rooting around in there like your baby's a grab bag mystery prize. "oops..that's an intestine, put that back. Got it- nope, just a kidney. Let me feel around some more...feels like a leg. Alright- out you go"

If you had tried to tell me, I would have blown you off anyway
Oh the guilt... the guilt consumes me. (no, I'm not catholic- but clearly should be). How is it possible that this baby inside of me is already wreaking havoc on my conscience? Isn't that supposed to come later when I give the first time out? When I forget about their friend's birthday party? When I leave them stranded in the grocery store and run to Mexico because i can't take the whiny demands? (errr...just kidding on that last one...maybe). But no- I already feel guilty because that's who I am.

I feel guilty when I drink a half a soda (ok-maybe a whole soda).
I feel guilty when another day passes without a green vegetable (not to mention all the other colored veggies- yuck!).
I feel guilty when I curse at it for already keeping me up at night
I feel guilty when I want to spend money on myself instead of saving it for baby things.
I feel guilty when I talk about wanting a boy instead of a girl (actually said worse things about bathtubs and girls and drownings, but hopefully no one was recording that)
I feel guilty that I complain about my pregnancy when others can't get pregnant or have a really really hard time with it.
I feel guilty that I am not loving every minute of carrying my "miracle of life"

Guilt guilt guilt. Now I feel guilty for voicing all my guilt. Ahh--how many Hail Mary's does it take to absolve my impure thoughts? Although honestly, I probably wouldn't get to saying them and then I'd have to add that to the list too.

PS. It's a boy! (big cheshire grin)

Mistrials of a Pregnant Summer, Part One

2009-07-14T07:47:00.004-05:00

I could start out with the same old song and dance- promising to blog more, but everyone knows I'd be a liar. The lying is all unintentional though, so i think i should still be able to collect a LIFE tile for the effort. (insert Bill Murray's Caddyshack clip here: "hey, Lama, hey how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know")

Mistrial #1: The disillusion of maternity pants
I am by no means an expert in the art of preggo pants, so feel free to disregard anything i am about to say as words delivered from a novice, BUT...ewwwwwww!!! Ok- firstly i have to concede that i have not gone maternity shopping, so the preggo pants i am wearing are from a nice co-worker of brian's. I am happy to accept them and delay the aforementioned shopping a bit longer. But here's the deal: Some days I can't fit into my jeans (yes i realize that this is less to do with my burgeoning belly and more to do with my pregnancy bloating-but regardless i still have to wear them) and must throw the preggo pants on. Mostly this is due to the fact that i have about 4.65 mintues allotted each morning to picking out an outfit. I cannot waste this time on finding pants that fit on any given day- i must save 3.32 minutes for trying on and taking off about a bazillion shirts before finding the one that
a) matches the pants- preggo or not
b) covers my "coin slot"- as no customer wants to be reminded of Larry the plumber while finding their holds
c) makes me feel like IF my baby should choose this day to pop, i won't be one of those women who exposes their pg belly by wearing too short of shirts- as if announcing to the world the insanely obvious fact that you are pregnant. I'm not one for attention, i don't actually need everyone to go "aww, cute- she's pregnant." Not to mention the fact that most days i look about 12, so i think people might spit at me in disgust rather than coo at my adorable-ness.

I digress- back to maternity pants. So in these beginning days when i need them, I am completely weirded out by the panel. I KNOW this panel is essential- in about 3 months. Now- not so much. All it does is really, really yick me out. I feel like a granny (no offense gran!). I haven't worn that high of pants since my mom put me in bib overalls and let me shove oil dry in my pockets (i was three!). Do i leave the panel all the way up so that no skin is exposed from my boobs to my feet? Because that's not my idea of "oh, maternity clothes are SO comfortable. You'll love wearing them." Ugh! Or...am i supposed to roll/fold this panel down when not in use? Because i've tried- all that does is make my stomach look even bigger and oddly mis-shapen. Instead of a cute little bump it now looks like i'm trying to steal a package of waffles from the 7-11.

Stay tuned for mistrials of a pregnant summer, coming soon*

*no deadlines please, you know i'll just miss them anyway

Lack of Discipline

2009-05-13T07:48:00.005-05:00

I failed. I admit it. I promised once a week and i failed. do you know how fast a week goes by? Geesh- what a lofty goal. I'm directly responsible for blog membership being down. That being said, i'm pretty sure the remaining loyal readers all know my situation, so it's time to start blogging about it (i will spare you the details- i'm not the bare-your-soul-type).

(drumroll please.....) We're Pregnant!

I'm very careful to say "we" as I feel that Brian should be held directly responsible for this situation also. Although completely planned (albiet a bit sooner than we thought), that doesn't mean that we're not somewhat freaked out about how BIG this is. Somehow having a baby seems ok, but that whole "being a parent" thing...whew. That's a tough one to wrap my head around.

Here are few things i've learned since we found out:
1. Nobody can give you a straight answer about anything involving your pregnancy because "everyone is different and everybody's body reacts differently." Personally, this sounds like you don't know what the heck you are talking about and we just go along with it bc you're the professional- but maybe, as a professional, you've just gotten to damn lazy to tell me why the hell my skin is breaking out like a 13 yr old boys?!

1a. Addendum to part one- my skin may look like pizza and i may have pounding headaches all day long and i might be nauseous most of my waking hours, but damn my nails look good.

2. I'm 99% sure that fate will kick me in the butt and give me a girl bc all i seem to buy at rummage sales are boy things. I think i might have some gender hang ups, bc i rationalize my purchases this way: well, if its a girl they can wear this cute blue striped onsie with a dino on it. Girls like stripes, dinos, and onsies. But seeing a pink ballerina pajama sack i say: well, it's $.50 and we don't know yet if its a boy or girl, so maybe we should wait.

2a. Addendum to part two- if its a girl will everyone promise not to tell her years from now how much mommy wanted a boy- although she might already suspect it when we decide to name her frank or evan.

3. I don't even have a baby bulge, let alone a baby yet and already i'm shocked my lack of confidence in making the right decisions. Should i have gotten that crib from an ad in the paper? What if the mattress has dangerous things hiding inside (like what? i dunno, razorblades, asbestos, barney)? Should i have done genetic testing? What if i have a ginger kid and i could have avoided it all along? Should i have eaten that smoothie even though the yogurt was on its sell by date? What if i just gave my kid food poisioning?

3a. Addendum to part three- if my kid is a ginger will everyone promise not to tell him/her years from now that i didn't want a red head with freckles and pale white skin??

Polka Dots and Purses

2009-04-08T07:37:00.003-05:00

Somehow in the last 6 months i've become a girl. Ok- i've been a girl for soon-to-be 26 years, but I'm really a girl lately. I've got a thing for pink, polka dots, and purses. Yikes. Sure I still loved watching UNC beat Michigan State on Monday (for those of you who care- i tied in one bracket pool and won the other) and I'm still cheering loud and proud for the Brew Crew on opening day (for those who care- they sucked yesterday...but they've got 161 chances to make it up to me). But i digress...this newfound xx chromosome is just a little odd to me. I mean polka dots?!? Minnie Mouse wears polka dots and when was the last time you heard someone say something cool about her. And purses...i've always just used hand me downs from my purse obsessed sister. But a while ago there was someone in the library with a really pretty purse (found out later its a Beijio) and i wanted to tackle her as she walked out the door. And then two weeks ago, this other patron comes in with a super sweet bag and i become my sister. I must have this bag. Not just any purse- a purse to match your every whim. Hard to explain without the pictures, but it's a miche bag and it's sweeeeeet. I currently have what they call the Maya right now (see picture - notice the polka dots, and yes, some of them are pink). But i love that i can buy different "shells" and get a whole new purse without switching out my old one. Ahh--see how i can go on and on about a purse. This isn't me. Someone find out who replaced the Becky shell with this lookalike!

It's time to sh*t or get off the pot...

2009-03-31T07:37:00.003-05:00

I think for the first time in my life i'm a commitment phobe. This is new to me. See my history: dated same man for 5 years, then married him. Had 3 jobs since i became of working age- i still hold two of them- 10 years later. Some of my bestest friends are from middle school and beyond. But this blogging thing has really gotten under my skin. I want to commit to it, I want to contribute to its success, I want to use it to enrich my own life- but I can't seem to make the time to let into my life fully. It's been,what, a month or more since my last blog. I resolve to get better at this. I will try to post a blog once a week I feel failure coming on already- i'm second guessing myself as soon as i typed that-is that what commitment phobes feel? An irrational fear towards locking yourself into obligations? Fight it. Fight it dammit. Ok- on the record: 1 post every week.

Now I know why they call it a new YEARs resolution

2009-02-28T08:01:00.006-06:00

I thought since we are rounding out the second month of the year, I would give you an update on how I'm doing fulfilling those new years resolutions i made. To recap quickly, they are:

make healthier choices
progress the American Ideal
get into church
spend less
stay in touch

And now to fill you in...
1. I do make healthier choices. I bought the "eat this, not that" book for the supermarket. And have switched , among other things, my yogurt choice (stupid Yoplait light and their high fructose corn syrup). Personally i think if i have to eat yogurt, it should be healthy no matter what kind I'm eating- but they put more sugar in that thing than a box of nerds...and I'd much rather get my sugar from the nerds.

2. Brian and I are slowly working towards a house...but realistically it won't be this year. There's just too much else going on to take on that big of a change. Plus, I'm thinking it would be helpful to have enough money leftover at the end of the month to fix a water heater or a sub pump or a roof if we needed to. Which, right now, we haven't even fixed his broken windshield from last May. Who needs to feel secure while driving- i asked plenty of drunks and they seem to think its overrated.

3. Ah the church. I honestly haven't worked on this one at all yet. I've thought about it a lot. Last Sunday i was laying in bed thinking "I could get up in time for church. Except i haven't decided which one I'm going to. And i haven't figured out how to con Brian into going with me. And i don't know what time the service starts. And i don't know whether to just start going to the service or to stop in some other time and talk to the priest about going through the classes. And i don't know..." So i was exhausted from all that thinking and decided to stay in bed a bit longer and i missed it all together. Also...now we're in the middle of Lent and i feel like i should have joined before ash Wednesday or wait and join after Easter. I don't want the priest to think I'm one of THOSE people, who only remember God when it involves candy and presents (mmm..robin's eggs).

4. Lessen my consumerism. I think I've done a good job at lessening it. Not altogether, but bit by bit. I still go to the grocery store every two days (but food doesn't count, right?). And i have bought a couple of pieces of new clothes, but i had gift cards from Christmas (so that doesn't count, right?) And we did buy a Playstation 3, but that was with a bit of our tax refund (so that doesn't count, right?). See, I've done a good job.....

5. This one has been tough for me. Mostly because i suck. I can't seem to remember that it's so and so's birthday next week (unless its on facebook!) and so then when i remember its too late to get out a card, and i don't have a card anyway because I'm trying to go to the store less to avoid spending more and i don't have their address and then i end up giving up and there you go: I've ignored another person's important event in their life. My whole goal for starting this was to remind myself that i need to think outside my box...it's so easy for me to wrapped up in my day to day world because its so jam packed with stuff that i can't think. So- if you're reading this and didn't get a Christmas card (oops...everyone!) or a birthday card or wishes, send me your address and the date of your birth and other important days: your anniversary, your child's birth date, the day of your first tooth, the day you lost your virginity, the day you died-if applicable.

But I've Put It Away...

2009-02-17T11:18:00.011-06:00

I have a garage. I take it will me everywhere. It exists in my mind, but it is real and it doesn't make me crazy (at least not legally). My cerebral garage holds many things. One object is giving me enough grief to blog about. Let me explain this mental garage with examples.

The Shovel: I have already put it away for the season. I cannot get it back. This is troublesome as it seems it will snow again any day. Now, logically, I know it is only February. The possibility of being able to leave it sit in my mental garage til next winter is improbable. My shovel does not see it that way. It's worked a long hard season already and needs some rest. This means that I will live in denial for the remainder of winter. Thus- I will refer to these coming months as: prespring. And in my prespring, the ice melt is the only tool allowed out of the garage.

The Umbrella(s): Now this tool, always prevalent in the month of my birth, is never put away. That's because it always seems to get lost well before I'm done using it. I'm pretty sure it runs away screaming from having to have spent time in my head. And because of this, after spring is over, a new umbrella will need to take its place. Sometimes my mental garage gets expensive.

The Basketball: This comes out early in the year. I never have trouble retrieving it because as soon as March Madness rolls around it's bouncing against the garage door. Sometimes this ball bouncing gets in the way of work productivity, but i don't mind because the ball always tells me how to fill out my bracket.

I apologize that I can't compile a complete list of what's held in my garage...there's just too much stuff. I'm pretty sure that i'll be renting a storage space soon enough.

Sit down my friends as I tell you a tale for the ages...

2009-01-28T10:16:00.006-06:00

Once upon a time, in a place long since destroyed, there worked a princess and her prince. At first, the princess did not like the prince. She thought he was evil and he reciprocated her feelings. Alas, the prince and princess, came to see each other as tolerable and could work together in harmony. Then came the day that the princess slying hinted that the prince and her should go to a place where she heard the tenders de chicken were mouthwatering. And so the princess, riding in the prince's black car, dined at the place they call Applebees. A beautiful friendship emerged from that gathering.

As time passed for the prince and princess they found the season of winter upon them. One day, a blanket of snow covered the town. That evening, the two were leaving work at the same time. The princess sighed heavily with the burden of mother nature. She and the prince set to work at uncovering their cars. Then came a torrent of snow aimed directly at the princess. A boisterous snow fight ensued. And during that onslaught of snow, the princess had a decidingly un-lady like thought: "I hope the prince tries to put snow down my shirt". Alas, the prince remained honest and gracious. With the fight won, the princess-dry shirt and all-drove off leaving the prince behind. Now the princess was determined to win the favor of the fair prince, and so she set to work on using her feminine wiles to woo him. The prince, either to dim-witted to notice or too gallant to act, remained perfectly platonic with his princess. The princess considered this and decided that the prince must have felt the repercussions from the king and queen too great to meddle with her heart.

And so the princess filled her days with friendship, while the prince deliberated amongst himself. The days passed into months and still the prince made no notions of his intentions. Nevertheless, the patience of the princess was rewarded. The prince came to her one evening and asked if he might press his lips upon hers. The princess, had been waiting for this moment and hastily agreed to his request, despite her resolution to remain coy.

From that moment on, the prince and the princess lived happily ever after...on an island in Hawaii, with two kids, two dogs, one cat, and unlimited frequent flier miles so their friends and family could come out to visit.

Good Morning Starshine, the Earth Says Screw You

2009-01-07T07:38:00.007-06:00

I'd like to start this blog by mentioning that it is snowing again. It couldn't come at a better time. One of my favorite things about snow is how it lays a nice blanket over everything. Right now, that means the falling snow is cleverly disguising the 2 inches of ice as innocent fluffy flakes. Chiropractors and doctors get ready, here come the droves of people with bruised hips and backs and butts because of this delectable winter treat we are receiving today. Thank you mother nature on behalf of all of us who endure your masochistic obstacle course in our daily lives.

To follow up on an old blog, I would like to now relay the Rudolph story. Thank you to all those who commented about what the correct add-in is at the end of the song, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Here is how that question came to fruition. One night, many moons ago, my husband and i were driving home when a rock version of Rudolph came on the radio. I started singing along and add-ing in all the key phrases. When i got to the end, "you'll go down in history," i sang "like George Washington." Brian looked at me strangely. At first i thought this was because he had to listen to my singing, but, no, he was sad. Sad because he thought i didn't know the right way to end the song. In his world, the song ends..."you'll go down in history (like Attila the Hun)". I burst out laughing. I thought he was joking. Nope, apparently that's how they did it back in the 70's. I told him that was crazy. There's no way the song ends like that. Why would Rudolph, this sweet lovable and ever-helpful reindeer, go down in history like a mass murderer? Brian assures me that this is meant to be ironic and that back in his day, kids must have been smarter to "get the joke." I then preceded to tell him, in my "the wife is always right voice," that he's absurd and i would prove it. And so the blog question came. And although there were different answers...none of them were Attila the Hun. With that i declare myself right, Brian wrong, and the world keeps spinning as it should.

A match made in the North Pole?
I think not!

Uncle Marty and the Spatula: a Television Special

2008-12-27T18:18:00.009-06:00

"I can't really say why everybody wishes they were somewhere else

But in the end, the only steps that matter are the ones you take all by yourself"

I'm sure you're reading this holiday blog thinking this will be one of two things: either i glory fill the blog by telling you all the fabulous gifts i got or 2) i get sentimental about the holiday hooplah.

Well...too bad, it's neither. Instead you'll read about all my new year's resolutions. I figure this way, they're out there for the world to see. Thereby giving all of you permission to call me on them for the next 365 days, should you witness my resolution waning.

1.) make healthier choices (i.e. water over soda, sandwiches over pizza, chocolate covered pretzels over....well, maybe we can let that one slide)
2.) progress the American Ideal (i.e. try to have a baby-and maybe a house with a white picket fence)
3.) find a way back into the church (this kind of reminds me of the movie Music and Lyrics when they sing that "find a way back into love" song)
4.) work on lessening my consumer driven life (i.e. do i REALLY need that new sweater? well, yes...but just posing the question is a step in the right direction....right?)
5 a.) stay more in touch with those i don't see very often (i.e. do sentimental things like send "thinking of you" cards in the mail)
5 b.) work on being that totally awesome person who sends cards through the mail for birthdays and anniversaries and then actually gets them there on time
6.) work on easier new year's resolutions for 2010.

P.S. This blog's title was created through MAD LIBS (thanks kayla for the xmas gift). For those of you who know my "everybody but me is stupid" uncle, you can just imagine the ratings his tv show would get!

These three things from orient are...

2008-12-19T16:10:00.006-06:00

Get ready for three random blog moments:

Random thing #1:
Does anyone out there know a dream psychologist? I think i may be dreaming wrong. How can you dream wrong, you ask? (Wow- i must be psychic because i heard what you were thinking!) Well...here's how i dream. I am always in the dream, but also not in the dream. I am omnipresent in all my dreams. I can see myself doing things in the dream and yet, I'm also detached from all the action. Also, sometimes it's me in someone else's body...sometimes that body is male. Again, weird. And finally...i never finish my dreams. Example: let's say that i'm running wild in the woods because Michael Meyers or Leatherface or some weird neighbor rapist is chasing me. I'm running, screaming my head off (i can see from my omnipotent presence that he's gaining on me), i trip (as all women in horror movies tend to do- stupid logs and divets), he's standing right over me, then...i wake up. It's like, as soon as something is too scary, my subconscious can't handle it. Which poses a problem for me, because then i lay awake wondering what happened, even though you can pretty much figure it out. I get slashed to pieces after he plays candyland with my body. So- i'm pretty sure i dream wrong. Help, please.

Random thing #2:
You know the song "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer?" Of course you do. And you know how everyone adapts the song and adds in their own asides: "you could even say it glows (it sparkles), they used to laugh and call him names (like pinocchio)," etc. Well, Brian and I were discussing this one day and we've decided to agree to disagree. But, being female, i just can't put this one to rest so i need your help. What is the final "add-in" to the song. "You'll go down in history...like ______? Comment back because i'd be interested in your responses (and no, i won't mention which ones brian and i have until after- no swaying the census).

Random thing #3:
A fun music video:

The Weepies |MTV Music

“The future lies before you, like paths of pure white snow. Be careful how you tread it, for every step will show.”

2008-12-10T07:49:00.007-06:00

Many times in my life I have wished for patience. Yesterday, my fairy godmother decided to grant this wish (and left the other 999 more important wishes on the shelf). During the winter storm, Carter, many people had off from school, or work, or dentist appointments (thank you snow, now i have to reschedule...again). I, however, did not. Sure, the option was there. If you'd like to use your vacation time, feel free to stay at home for your own safety. Ha- if they were REALLY concerned about my safety they would allow me to use any time i wanted to ensure it. Why does it have to be vacation? Why can't it be sick time? Why can't i use the excuse that seeing that much snow fall by the second week of December sickens me? But i digress...

So off i went into work, braving the terrible (not really) roads at noon. The library still stood despite Carter's best efforts to pound it mercilessly with light, fluffy, sparkly snow. The parking lot, upon my arrival, was the first indication that snow days can happen even if you're at work. It was dead. All day, the library saw 419 people, roughly 40 people an hour. Half of those were probably internet users, so we maybe helped 20 people an hour. And half of those were probably with someone, so maybe we helped 10 people an hour. This, was glorious.

This was not: although people could not get off the couch to come to the library (again, no complaints), they could get off the couch to grab the phone and call the library.

"Thanks for calling, how can i help you?" "uh...are you guys open today?" Two things bother me about this. 1) if you are calling to find out if a place is open, and then they pick up the phone- make something up! e.g. How late are you open today? Can you tell me where you're located? Oh sorry, i thought i was calling the sex addicts number. 2) As aforementioned, clearly these people had no intention of coming to library after they found out we were open, so why call?!

Gosh was i grateful for that douse of patience my fairy godmother sprinkled over me yesterday. As you can see by today's post, though i had patience to get through it yesterday, it irkes me today. And sadly, i used it all up- so if any of you were hoping to try my patience, I'd reschedule.

Of all the places to live...

2008-11-26T16:31:00.005-06:00

Madison is by far my favorite Wisconsin city. I visited the city again this past weekend with a girlfriend and have determined that I MUST visit in the summertime. I must have walked about a gillion miles over the weekend (from the hotel to camp randall, from camp randall to state street, from state street to the hotel, hotel to state street, state street to gay bar, gay bar to hotel, etc)...and all in the cold yet!

Here are some things you may or may not know that i love: public transportation (not the green bay kind), college, trendy neighborhoods, winning teams, water, dogs, reading outside, millions of dollars, lyposuction... The list could go on and on, but for the sake of this blog, let's just say that 80% of the things I love are easily attainable in this beautiful capitol of ours. If it weren't for the snow, the increased cost of living, the driving time from one side of town to the other, we'd be living there already.

I had intended to write about the Badger game, the restaurants we went to, the Holiday lights we toured, the interperative dance program we saw, and the gay bar we found ourselves in...but alas, i have blathered on too long already.

Here are the runners up to my favorite Wisconsin City:
Wisconsin Dells: waaaaaay too much neon and not enough legal gambling
Milwaukee: waaaaay too many scary neighborhoods and not enough relaxing waterfront
Green Bay: waaaay too much booze and not enough of me injesting it.
Appleton: waaaay too many places that aren't in Green Bay and not enough jobs enabling me to live there.

It's the Beatles at Shea Stadium!!

2008-11-22T08:26:00.006-06:00

No, (Shriek) It's the Twilight movie!

For those of you who don't know the Twilight series, it's a young adult series that involves a 17 year old girl falling in love with a vampire (Edward- SHRIEK!). The first book came out in 2005 and has developed a cult following much like the Harry Potter series (but on a much smaller scale). The first book was made into a movie starring Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson (SHRIEK!). This has a point beyond being informational, just be patient. Well, last night was opening night of the film adaptation of the first book. A bunch of my gal pals and I went to see it. Stood in line. Waited to get into the theater. Took our seats. Waited some more. And then...the movie ads started to run and (SHRIEK!) it's starting. There were a WHOLE lot of girls in there who got excited about the Pepsi Max commercial, and then REALLY excited about the Marcus Upcoming Films trailer, and then even more excited by the Summit Entertainment Logo. And then finally....(SHRIEK SHRIEK SHRIEK SHRIEK SHRIEK) It's starting!!!! (Applause, more shrieking). It's Bella's voice (more shrieking). It's Bella's face (more shrieking). It's Bella (more shrieking). It's Edward! (SHRIEK SHRIEK SHRIEK)....and that's how it went, pretty much the entire movie.

Note to self: do not see popular tween phenomenon on opening night.

PS. I wouldn't call the movie Shriek-worthy, but it was definetly better than i expected.

I should have grown out of this a long time ago...

2008-11-11T21:27:00.010-06:00

But I love things that talk- that shouldn't. And before you start thinking i'm crazy (or is it too late for that). I don't mean i that I long to hear voices coming from my toaster or out of my mascara tube. Besides, what would they say, "Feed me toast" or "I'd really like to poke your eye out today, please let me."

I'm referring to the personification of animals. I'm pretty much a sucker for any movie that has talking animals/babies. For example: Babe, Look Who's Talking, Cats and Dogs, Milo and Otis, and of course, most animated films. I think its fun. Who doesn't wonder what those darn pets are saying when they are meowing, barking, grunting at each other and us? Ok- maybe a lot of people are wondering, but i certainly am. Again, probablysomething i should have outgrown by now.

This blog is inspired by the book I'm reading now, "The Art of Racing in the Rain." The narrator is a dog; the whole book is written from the poochy's perspective! How can one girl get to be this lucky. Now, I've read other pet books in the past: Cormac, Dewey, Marley and Me, etc...but they have all been missing one thing: key insight from the aforementioned pets. Wouldn't the Dewey book (about a library cat) been better if it had less whining from the library lady and more tales of late night kitty adventures? And don't you think the Marley movie with Jennifer Aniston and Owen Wilson would double box office revenues if they made the adorable puppy speak? I'll let you know how the racing in the rain book turns out, but for now- I'm one childish-ly happy person.

Now I'm off to find out, telepathically of course, what my psycho fish is trying to tell me. I have a feeling it's going to be along the lines of:

work the gills, swish the tail, work the gills, swish the tail.

A stroller is not a stroller in England, it's a pram...

2008-11-06T22:29:00.005-06:00

...and a melting pot in madison is not a melting pot in appleton. Let me share with you the things i learned tonight at dinner:

The Appleton Melting Pot (AMP) seats you and tells you that your waiter is Andrea- and then your waiter is Andrea.
The Madison Melting Pot (MMP) seats you and tells you that your waiter is Andrea- and then your waiter is Ian.

The AMP seats you in a semi-dark booth with a shiny black table that has sparkles in it and pretty blue lights above you.
The MMP seats you at a granite looking booth in a well lit area where you could probably easily share food with the table across the aisle.

The AMP has ladies night on thursdays- where the 2 for 1 martini's seem like an awesome way to kick off the weekend...who doesn't go to work hung over on fridays?
The MMP has ladies night on mondays- where women can spend the night commiserating about how broke they are from the weekend and how long the work week is.

The AMP helps St. Jude's raise money by giving incentive cards you can use throughtout the year.
The MMP helps St. Jude's by failing to honor the incentive cards sponsored by the AMP (no location associated on the card).

The AMP holds their tray over the flambeau portion of your chocolate fondue to encourage the "ooh and ahh" factor.
The MMP barely lights the darn thing and then promptly stirs it out right away.

The AMP does not take my plastic of choice.
The MMP has discovered the world of discover.

So, if anyone was counting:
Appleton: 5
Madison: 1

These are the things that can be gleaned from company funded work vacations. I have been schooled.

It's Miley! Nah, It's Madison!! (picture seen here is definetly NOT the view from my hotel room)

2008-11-05T15:21:00.007-06:00

Today is my first day of full sessions at the Wisconsin Librarys Associations Annual Conference. Last night i arrived in Mad-town and was greeted by hunderds of people who couldn't wait to welcome me to the city- so much so that they decided to hop on the highway and greet me there. Truth be told, some of them greeted me with their middle finger as i craftily moved between mutilple lanes of traffic while reading my mapquest directions through the headlights of the car following me- but no bother. I checked into my hotel room and discovered that i am within walking distance of a pancheros and a starbucks and a scrapbooking store. And let me clarify walking distance...it's within MY walking distance. Meaning, it's across the street. :) So, last night i walked to get the scrapbooking store (no purchases yet) and then to Pancheros which I took back to my room. i preceded to watch Across the Universe (great movie) and the election coverage (i'm a multi-tasker). Then this morning, i made a waffle at the complimentary breakfast station provided by the hotel. I should let you know that the county reimburses me my meals. Seeing as breakfast was free, i felt the desire to stop at sbux and buy $6.00 worth of coffee and soda as my "official" breakfast. Then two sessions so far today, lunch at chili's, and dinner out with a gal pal tonight. So far, not too shabby of a "working" vacation. I did discover there is a melting pot at the next exit- but as of yet have found no one to eat dinner with tomorrow night. As much i love being by myself, i don't think the melting pot is the kind of place that would like to serve dinner for one. Mmm...fiesta cheese and cajun chicken with yogurt based curry. YUM YUM YUM. I want it, i need it...i need to find a friend :)

Well, back to the grind. Up next: Literacy Coaches and Programs for Tweens and Teens: How Schools and Libraries Can Support Adolescent Literacy.

And just so you don't think i was lying about the first two sessions of fantabulous fun:

- Constructing Questionnaires and Questions: It's Harder than it Seems

- How to Reach Hard to Reach Populations

"I think I'm just going to nip it in the bud, u know, before it gets worse. 'Cause u know, they say pregnancy can often lead to, u know — an infant

2008-10-31T07:29:00.009-05:00

...And thus began my Halloween adventures. At approximately 1600 on this Thursday past, I decided that i would be a hypocrite and take back the first blog post on this site (the one with the midgets- ha, an instant classic) and dress up for all hallow's eve. So, as i become inspired on my drive home (which i don't recommend doing. There should be a warning label on inspiration, Caution: do not receive bursts of insight while operating heavy machinary). I decided to become "Juno"- not like the city. I was not to be dettered by small facts like i was not 16 and not with child. This only increased the fun. I dug out my stripped tank top (now probably so stretched out i could wear it in the event i become pg), and put on my pleated skirt. Then i scoured my house for an acceptable belly. Finding none, i made my mother find something at her house and bring it into town Friday early morning. (thanks ma- your cow pillow was stroked by at least a dozen random strangers). Then, as the spirits of all hallow's eve were on my side, Kohls had a sale on grungy, hip, teen zippies. And wa-la! I was a knocked up teen with a Pauly Bleeker complex.

My happy place?

2008-10-22T07:49:00.006-05:00

I am glutton for punishment...and not the good kind, with the leather and whip and "banana" safety word. Here's why I'm being punished: I thought it would be a good idea to work more at the theater for a while to get some extra money for Thanksgiving and Christmas. In the back of mind also, was the fact that Brian's windshield has been cracked since March and really needs to be fixed before winter hits. Apparently the cold temperatures can shatter his windshield at any time leaving him to fight off a rain shower of glass shards as he careens down the highway at 72. Call me crazy, but i have a hard time allowing this foreboding future to come to fruition. (2 points for alliteration).

Getting back to the punishment...so i am now working more at that "happy place" of a cinema and as a result have back to back 12 hour days. In the spring, when i did this- i was smart. Apparently all the summer sun made me stupid (2 more points please). In the spring i would do back to back 12 hour days, but on thursday and friday, with a good 2 days off to rest and relax. This time, i put the 12 hour days on tuesday and wednesday and then still have to work friday AND saturday. Stupid, stupid, stupid. See what i mean about glutton for punishment. I'm pretty much waiting for the other shoe to drop and i have one of my infamous colds which would leave me up a creek without a paddle (1 point for each of these idioms).

Blog totals:
Words: 269
Characters: 1,150
Five dollar words: 3
Points for literay devices in a blog: 7

Total life points: 517,891...and counting

Simon is a Unicorn...

2008-10-16T20:39:00.003-05:00

Dear Mr. Zucker (CEO of NBC):
Thank you for receiving my letter and taking the time to consider the opinoins of your viewers. One of my current employers has a theory that for every 1 complaint, there are 100 people who have the same issue, but say nothing. Based on this theory, you can assume there are at least 100 people who outraged and disheartned by your TV lineup. Please move your fabulous show: Saturday Night Live-Thursday edition, to a different night of the week. American viewers are already strapped watching back to back to back TV and we cannot handle emotionally splitting ourselves between the many networks. You will still have The Office ratings, but you could bolster your Tuesday night lineup (Biggest Loser and Law and Order-bleh!) by moving SNL to Tuesdays. No need to compete with Greys, Survivor, Saving Silverman, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (its a lost cause). This country needs midweek laughs. As the economy dips to near-depression levels, as jobs are lost, houses forclosed...it is critically important that our spirits remained entrenched in the great american tradition of the boob tube. Give us a reason to tune in on tuesdays- give us a saturday laugh, midweek. It can be done-so do it. Just do it. Come on, do it. dooooo it.

Sincerely,
Tepid Tuesdays, in Tuscon

Wow- this blog has been about nothing, or maybe something, or possibly everything.

It has been many moons...

2008-10-11T08:37:00.007-05:00

...since i blogged last. Well, many if you consider 3 moons many. For the sake of alliteration, i will assume here that many is 3. Because saying "it has been a few moons since i blogged last" sounds like i need special people help. I have a feeling that this blog will turn into one of those random ranting/rambling things. If that does happen, feel free to stop reading...who wants to spend their time listening to the long-winded tails of abuse within my life. I'm bored just typing it. Well, not bored yet, but i gather i will be.

So i'm blogging this early in the AM because i'm waiting for my guests to arrive at my house. My sisters and I are taking pictures of ourselves (because we're narcissistic that way) to gift to my parents at christmas. We have done this once before, but Mandy was 13...she looks a smidge different now. I- however- look the same. I'm not shitting you, see the photo below. Hopefully i've grown in HOW to take pictures. Since then, I've learned to stick my chin out a bit in photos (thanks kayla), hide behind someone skinner than me (thanks E! entertainment), and vomit after every meal (thanks Tracy Gold). Here's to a good bit of luck and a lot of bulimia!

Post Season 08

2008-10-07T09:08:00.003-05:00

Ok, ok. I know that October baseball in milwaukee only lasted 2 days, but it was well worth it. After the 26 year drought, i felt it was well deserved. Now if only those darn miller park people would have given out the thunder sticks on saturday instead of sunday. Sure i saw the victory instead of the depressing loss, but all i could think about while watching the game on sunday was- "I want thundersticks!" Is it rational? Nope. But what did you expect from the blank blogger?

Check out the brewers schedule so you can start planning 2009 tailgate trips!

Badass All Hallow's Eve

2008-10-07T08:56:00.002-05:00

So it's true that Halloween is typically seen as a little people holiday (and no, i don't mean midgets- although, now that i think of it...they could probably dress up year afte year and score loads of candy long after we've outgrown our spiderman costumes). But- no fear for adults and non-midgets...you can let your "role playing" fantasties out and try to win some cold hard cash from one of the many bar contests. So get your buzz on and go out there and win one for the little people!