I haven't had many experiences recently that have been worth blogging -- well, the exact opposite might actually be true. It might be that so much has happened that I have neither the time to react, nor the ability to determine what might be most interesting to the Net.
Now thirty weeks pregnant, I am a whale carrying a very, VERY active little boy inside me. I really had no concept of how much more active a baby could be in utero than Rhianna, but little brother is already one-upping his big sis. I'm pretty sure he'll be strong enough to do summersaults when he decides he's ready to brave the big-bad world. If I weren't so uncomfortable, I'd be happy to keep him inside for a while as mentally, I'm hardly prepared to care for another infant. As it is, in the heat of my 90 degree office and my 80 home, I'd be pretty grateful to be un-pregnant. If we do end up planning another child someday, we'll shoot for a winter baby.
Unfortunately, most of our recent goings-on has related to a daycare crisis. Even more unfortunately, it has yet to be resolved. I feel like it would be unfair to publish nasty things about our current daycare over the World Wide Web -- but I also feel it is unfair that I have to bring my child home in the condition I continue to find her. The stress of daycare, money and, of course, daycare, has lead to the inevitable marrital arguments, stress and tears. Hopefully we'll find a solution soon -- as our little family, momma in particular, is just exhausted by the ordeal. As it stands, we can't move our not-so-baby girl because there is no where to take her. Everywhere in town is full, we don't know anyone who will nanny for such a short time (before baby arrives), and neither Dave nor I can stay home right now. Sigh. It's just one of those times that we will get through and be glad when it's over.
In more cheery news, I'm very close to finishing my needlepoint Christmas stocking! If I can get it to the finisher by October, they will get it done this year -- and I'm sure I can do that so I'm very excited to have both Dave and my stockings completed.
Alright, off to grow a baby. Hope this finds you well.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Telemarketers beware
Ok, i know my life is really great and I shouldn't complain, but this is just comical.
Today has been a little rough due to a lack of sleep. Nonetheless, everything is pretty ok except that I ordered this air cooler and it was supposed to arrive today but hasn't and doesn't look like it's been shipped yet. So I emailed the company from who I ordered it and was getting ready to go to the store (which I've been avoiding all day so that I could be here when the package arrived. Anyway, by "getting ready" you should read "on the can."
So I'm having my own little private moment and Rhianna is perfectly happy and then boom! Crap. What was that? Pause. No cry -- ok so either it's super serious or something just fell and it's not on top of Rhianna. Of course, I can't just wait to find out so I stop my "business" and check it out. Luckily she was in view in the middle of the living room so with my ass still bare, I just had to pop my head out of the bathroom to see and she'd just knocked over a toy. No blood, no bruise, no foul.
Ok, resume business at hand. Sit down. Relax. Phone rings. I can't just ignore it because it might be the cooler people and I want my damn cooler. Quick wipe (insufficient though it was, would avoid any skidmarks as long as I returned to finish later), run to get the phone, pants pulled up enough so that the guy mowing outside won't see anything indecent. It was the cooler people. They will be following up. Great, problem solved. I can now go to the grocery store without worrying that I'll miss the shipment (thus having to drive to the airport to get it). Time to resume original business.
Quick check and Rhianna's happily watching the Mom-needs-a-moment video known to all new moms as "baby einstien." Ok return to bathroom (this time with the phone just in case). Ah. Relax. Get to your happy place. Ring ring. DAMN! Seriously! Ok. At this point, I have to make known that I really have a problem with people talking to me on the phone when they are on the can so I make it a point not to indulge in this. Nonetheless, at this point, an exception had to be made. I stopped my "business" so at least there wouldn't be any telling noises on my end. Hopefully it will be someone I know and I can just ask to call them back in 2 minutes.
"Hello?" Pause. "Hello?" "Yeah, this is Qwest...." PLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLUHHH. (internet translation for me letting it rip.) Sorry telemarketer. Not a good time to disturb Mommy. "No, there's not a better time to reach her."
Mommy emerges from the bathroom, hands washed, toilet flushed, and bum properly cleaned. Ah. Wait, NO! Rhianna! the rocking horse is NOT meant to be a stepstool for the coffee table. Resume normal daily activity.
Today has been a little rough due to a lack of sleep. Nonetheless, everything is pretty ok except that I ordered this air cooler and it was supposed to arrive today but hasn't and doesn't look like it's been shipped yet. So I emailed the company from who I ordered it and was getting ready to go to the store (which I've been avoiding all day so that I could be here when the package arrived. Anyway, by "getting ready" you should read "on the can."
So I'm having my own little private moment and Rhianna is perfectly happy and then boom! Crap. What was that? Pause. No cry -- ok so either it's super serious or something just fell and it's not on top of Rhianna. Of course, I can't just wait to find out so I stop my "business" and check it out. Luckily she was in view in the middle of the living room so with my ass still bare, I just had to pop my head out of the bathroom to see and she'd just knocked over a toy. No blood, no bruise, no foul.
Ok, resume business at hand. Sit down. Relax. Phone rings. I can't just ignore it because it might be the cooler people and I want my damn cooler. Quick wipe (insufficient though it was, would avoid any skidmarks as long as I returned to finish later), run to get the phone, pants pulled up enough so that the guy mowing outside won't see anything indecent. It was the cooler people. They will be following up. Great, problem solved. I can now go to the grocery store without worrying that I'll miss the shipment (thus having to drive to the airport to get it). Time to resume original business.
Quick check and Rhianna's happily watching the Mom-needs-a-moment video known to all new moms as "baby einstien." Ok return to bathroom (this time with the phone just in case). Ah. Relax. Get to your happy place. Ring ring. DAMN! Seriously! Ok. At this point, I have to make known that I really have a problem with people talking to me on the phone when they are on the can so I make it a point not to indulge in this. Nonetheless, at this point, an exception had to be made. I stopped my "business" so at least there wouldn't be any telling noises on my end. Hopefully it will be someone I know and I can just ask to call them back in 2 minutes.
"Hello?" Pause. "Hello?" "Yeah, this is Qwest...." PLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLUHHH. (internet translation for me letting it rip.) Sorry telemarketer. Not a good time to disturb Mommy. "No, there's not a better time to reach her."
Mommy emerges from the bathroom, hands washed, toilet flushed, and bum properly cleaned. Ah. Wait, NO! Rhianna! the rocking horse is NOT meant to be a stepstool for the coffee table. Resume normal daily activity.
Monday, July 03, 2006
I SWEAR, it was IN the clean pile
So I've been at work for half the day and just went for my... oh, fourth or so... trip to the bathroom. I look in the mirror and what do I see looking back at me? The shirt that I took out of my CLEAN pile (just folded last night... I think....) and there's snot (not mine) along the neck, drips from recently filling my water cup at the drinking fountian along my belly and along the bottom of the shirt.. what IS that!!? cheese? from WHEN!?? I haven't had any cheese today, haven't served any to any one-year-old.... Seriously, I THOUGHT it was clean. Now I'm embarrassed. I feel like a walking tray of leftovers.
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