This 'n That

Took the baby to her 3 year checkup today, is has been confirmed that she is indeed tall and kinda skinny, and also healthy as a horse. 39.5 inches tall, 34.5 pounds, and very subdued yet cooperative during her appointment. Our child, who never ever shuts up, said nothing at all for the duration of her examination until a final, whispered "bye" when it was over. Immediately the door was closed she opened her wee mouth and chattered on about stickers and that thing they look in your ears with and so forth, until we got into the car whereupon she sang all the way home.

In other news, I made this car charm for a classmate. Kindly ignore the slightly tatty kitchen towel upon which it is displayed.





The little bejeweled handbag charm was in my arsenal from a shopping trip some time ago, awaiting matching with its rightful owner. I typically go to a local pub after class on Friday nights and spend an hour or so having a nosh with this girl from my class, and she recently obtained for me a free pass to this cool exhibit, so I thought, I should make her a little bracelet or car charm or something. And then the handbag charm gave out a tiny shout from the bead box and that was it.

Being a car charm, its sole purpose in life is to dangle from the rear-view mirror of a car and look pretty. It is not imbued with magical powers... or is it?

Updated Cute Baby Pics!

Time for birthday photos! Enjoy!







Okay, these are puny because they are saved off the website for the place I go for pictures, but better than nothing. :)

Happy birthday my little scooby!

Today is Delia's 3rd birthday!

This morning I went in her room once I heard her in there warbling and murping as she does in the mornings. "Good morning!" I said to her. She hid her face with her hands to be funny. "Guess what today is?" I asked her. She peeked out from behind her fingers and said, "What?" And I told her, "Today is YOUR BIRTHDAY!" And she leaped up and shouted, "YAY!!!"

Because I am a terrible person and an even worse parent, it wasn't until I had brought her out for her morning Ovaltine that I realized we needed to scare up some kind of first-thing-in-the-morning giftie. Luckily, there were a few things laying around leftover from Christmas and so I was able to duck into the office and stuff a "Cootie" game into a gift bag. Honestly, why did anyone let me bring a poor defenseless baby into the world and then allow me to take it home from the hospital? Why?

She was thrilled with the game and happily spent the rest of the morning playing with the various bug legs and so forth. Today's Cootie, by the way, comes ready to snap together (as I doubt its ancestors did) and one set of its legs is outfitted in itsy bitsy rollerblades.

At that point I had to go to school and afterward, as planned, stopped by Target for her actual gifts: a kiddie pool, a swim suit, an outfit, and one of those big vinyl balls they sell in big cages from time to time at grocery stores and Targets and so forth.

I also replaced my wallet. I can put my stupid paper driver's license in it that the state of Washington gives you when you go in to the DMV. The real one comes in the mail a few days down the line. This time I chose a slightly larger wallet that has a little photo section in it for pictures of the baby. :)

We had some friends over who very kindly came despite a hectic day. BBQ pork ribs were eaten, as was potato salad and baked beans, and then she opened her various gifts, including a book and five bucks from her Aunt Doreen, the aforementioned items from her doting moms, and the crowning glory: from Karen and John and wee Baby Katie, a duck on a stick. You push the duck around in front of you and its flappy feet very satisfyingly slap the floor as it waddles on its (purposely) lopsided wheels.

Delia very obligingly yodeled with delight as she raced around the loop (kitchen has doorways at each end, allowing children to run in a circuit through the kitchen and living room, around and around, generally while screaming and giggling; it happens at every family gathering held in our house where two or more children are present, and sometimes even if no other children are present besides Delia). She took the duck, her new best friend, to bed with her.

Lest we, her long-suffering moms, feel slighted, she did seem happy with the pool and also held up her new swimsuit and pronounced it "pretty."

The big family party is next week, a joint party with her cousin Caleb who is turning 7 two weeks from now. So today was rather low-key, especially since her cousins across the street are at the beach this weekend as they always are Memorial Day weekend. But next week -- there will be super festivities. Possibly including a pinata. And definitely the kiddie pool if the weather is warm.

Photos to follow soon! :)

GRRRRR!

So my wallet went missing. I had it this morning, and then it was just gone.

This is such a colossal pain.

I called and cancelled the three cards in it and tomorrow must go get another driver's license. Eventually I'll have to get all my other stuff replaced, library card, HMO cards for me and the baby, etc.

This thing is, I HAD THE STUPID WALLET IN MY HANDS. I don't remember setting it anywhere strange like the shopping cart or the top of the car, it was in my pocket but now it's noplace it would normally be like the piano or the countertop or anywhere the baby might have squirrelled it away.

GRR!

Which Ambiguous Dyke Are You?

I'm Velma, which ambiguous dyke are you? Quiz by Turi.


... I'm actually kind of "post-gay," but it was an amusing quiz.

J turned out to be Peppermint Patty.

An Occasional Game

At our house, we like to play an amusing little game we like to call, "What Is That Smell?"

Recently I bought some packages of chicken and one of them went bad before the sell-by date. I thought it was the other package, which I had opened and used some of, so I threw the remainder of that package away. But the bad smell? Continued. Ugh.

So I searched in vain for more bad meats thinking, it can't be the other package of chicken. But it was. I returned it to the store and got a refund. Bad batch, pulled from shelf, sorry for the inconvenience, etc.

Returned home -- there is still a smell. What the...?! I spend all day sniffing around here and there, inside cupboards, drawers, poking around the kitchen. It smells like sour milk. Maybe the baby has stashed a sippy cup somewhere unusual? I look everywhere. Nothing.

Finally I want a glass of ice water and I go to the fridge which has an ice and water dispenser in the door. The smell is strong here. I glance downward. "HONEY!" I call out, joyfully -- "I FOUND THE BAD SMELL!" J bounds over, giddy with relief that our ordeal is all but over. I wave a hand at the dispenser. "Look!"

Someone -- and I think we all know whom, exactly -- has poured MILK into the little grate under the ice and water dispensers. The grate which covers a shallow well with no drain in it, meant merely to catch what little drips of water or chips of ice may fall while dispensing. The milk has become sour and horrible and practically pulsates with evilness.

Because I have the least sensitive gag reflex, I am elected to clean the mess up. It requires a spoon to remove the scummy, bubbly scab of nastiness, then a sponge and bucket of soapy water to wash out the remaining vile liquid, then a strong household cleaner to finish off the whole cleaning process. I somehow cut myself on the edge of the well and wonder what &%$#@ing moron designs something like this with razor-sharp edges, knowing that it will require occasional cleaning under more typical usage, i.e. even if no-one is pouring milk into it.

My strong constitution plus my mad ninja cleaning skills earn me dinner out.

Death

Friday night I was standing outside after anatomy lecture at the community college, talking to a friend from class, and we heard a man screaming. I mean really screaming. It was coming from an apartment building across the street. We became uneasy and she drove me around the block to my car, worrying if we should call 911, but when we got to my car there were 2 police cars there. One of them pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building so I figured it was handled and drove on home. It's a kind of a rough building, the people living there look as if they are lower-income, possibly formerly homeless, that sort of thing, so I hoped that the man was screaming at his voices or something. Fifteen years of working with the seriously mentally ill kind of inures you to screaming.

In the morning we returned for lab class and there were news crews in the college parking lot. Not a good sign. I checked the internet when I got home.

The man was screaming because someone was murdering him. He died of blunt force trauma. Someone, presumably the suspect, jumped out a 3rd story window to escape and was not caught.

I've been kind of freaked out. There was nothing I could have done. But to know that what I heard was him dying? That's an awful feeling. I hope he's in a better place.