Hell is made of cinderblocks

Julianna and a friend Little Jeff (everybody we know is named Jeff, esp. the gay guys) spent the weekend constructing a massive trench in the back yard. Eventually, and I use "eventually" in the sense of "God I hope it's soon," this monstrosity will be filled with topsoil and then planted with ornamentals of various types. Seriously, this thing is 2 cinderblocks high in the front, which is sixteen inches, (and 3 in the back just to conceal more of the ugly wood fence), six feet wide from front to back, and (brace yourself) forty seven feet long.

How many cinderblocks might it take to build the Great Wall of Vancouver, you ask? Well, I can answer that. One hundred ninety-seven. I know this not because I counted each one as it was placed, tempting though that was, but because we had 210 of them delivered to the driveway. That was cool -- Lowe's sends a truck with canvas sides and a really nifty all-terrain forklift hanging from the back, and this big burly broad with a volleyball-team ponytail (if you know what I mean, wink wink) jumps out and climbs into the forklift and whips those pallets of cinderblock right off the truck and into the driveway, lickety damn split. Our neighbor Dave will be relating the story to other neighbors in four-part harmony with diagrams and 8x10 color glossy photographs for years to come.

Anyway there were 13 left over.

I personally had to shift only about ten of them, because I was watching Delia pretty much the whole weekend. She's at that independent forehead-smashing-into-cinderblock age wherein she spends all her time seeking out peril and facing it head-on.

Peru

How cool is it that not only does my Mom get to go see Macchu Pichu but that she can also ping me on our direct-connect walkie talkie phone feature from LIMA, PERU?!

Nextel, I freaking love you. Love. You.

Air travel freaks me out these days so any chance to be in touch is a good thing. The world is so uncertain...

Do they make jogbras for your ass?

Right. Went for a walk/run today. Or a walk/"hurry." I don't think it qualifies as running if you are going almost the same speed as you were when you were walking.

As I was feeling self-conscious, I walked to the park which is heavily wooded and ran within the heavily wooded parts where nobody could see me. I'm sure the neighbors noticed the wildlife stampeding away as I thundered through the forest like an arthritic rhinoceros... Anyway I "ran" in 30-second to 1-minute increments within a lot of huffy-puffy walking. There was sweating. There was panting. There was a whole lot of jiggling, especially in the back 40. See, this is why I wanted to run where nobody could see me: as a courtesy to others.

Anybody who has met me can confirm that, ahem, Baby Got Back. And I can't blame it on the actual baby, either. I am the same size now as before getting pregnant, although some parts have settled during shipping. Anyway I got this super-strappy double-reinforced flying-buttressed running bra to keep the upper parts from wobbling, but how to keep the rest of the island from collapsing into the sea? It feels like my butt is going to calve off like an iceberg, which would be totally okay with me if it could really happen, but since it's not likely to, I would like someone to draft up a sort of elastic sling I can wear under my shorts. Sure, sure, I could order up one of those "slimming" mummy garments from the Carol Wright catalog (along with some marital aids since I'm ordering and all, wink wink), but I need something a little more comfortable which will allow me to actually breathe while running. Or hurrying. So, you enterprising types get on that and get back to me, mmkay?

Delia of course came along in the jogging stroller which we borrowed from J's sister across the street. She was happy to munch crackers and guzzle from her sippy cup, watching the scenery inching by.

Now I am busy tidying up and getting dinner ready like a good little Suzy Homemaker. Except that I'm really blogging. Ha! Some hausfrau I am.

Happy Birthday to Pinky

Had Delia's party today. Invited more or less everyone we know who I thought might be mildly interested in attending, and more than a few of them showed up! So between our families and friends, we had quite the gang.

My Mom
My brother, his wife, three of their sons ages 9, 7, and 4
My Aunt and her son age 16 (Mom's side)
My cousin, her two daughters ages 15 and 11, and the daughter age 2.5 of another cousin (all Dad's side),
My Grandmother (Dad's side)
Old friend and her daughter age 6, son age 14 months
J's Mom & Dad
J's sister, her husband, son age 5, daughter age 5 months
J's other sister, her husband, son age almost 5, daughter age 21 months, daughter age 9 weeks
J's yet another sister
J's old friend and her son age almost 2
Pastor Dave and Marie (aka Mrs. Pastor Dave) from church
Old friends Mark and Eric

Mmmm, I think that's it. We had kids everywhere. Not counting anyone over the age of 11, we had 13 of them. Delia toddled around after the other kids and was charming and sweet, and all of the kids were pretty well-behaved.

Delia declined her usual afternoon nap so was completely exhausted by the time it was all over, and crashed hard when I went to put her down for the night.

She got many lovely gifts: doll and doll buggy, books, clothes (some handmade by my Mom), toys. And an electronic drum set! From J's sister Amy and her family, a retaliatory response to a drum set that J and I gave their son for Christmas 2003. It was a little drum filled with other instruments -- tambourine, maracas, toy trumpet. They gleefully gave Delia a Leapfrog Learning Drum for Christmas as a warm-up for the day she could handle a larger drum... Which evidently is now.

We put her in the highchair with a cake of her very own to maul, which could have gone better. We had put a dinky little birthday candle in it and were singing Happy Birthday to her and despite my (apparently ineffectual) efforts, her little hand shot out and grabbed that candle. She got a bit of hot wax on her finger which resulted in much wailing... I felt so bad. Once we got it cooled off and I sneaked a smidgen of frosting into her mouth, she calmed down and got to work on the cake. Really she didn't eat that much of it, just a bit of frosting, but took her time and seemed content. And, um, did you know that green frosting stains skin? At any rate, she was a great little birthday girl and enjoyed her day I think.

I am so beat. Time for bed, methinks.

Email

Got an email from a friend stating that she had read my blog (since I outed myself as a blogger) and decided to try it out just for grins, despite some serious doubts as to its worthiness as a pursuit. Does the world need another blog? No, probably not. And I don't need a (fancy trinket which changes regularly but often concerns diamonds and platinum), but I still want one, and that doesn't make me a bad person. It's a blog, not a fashion statement. Call it a blanket phone call to anyone who cares to listen. It's like one of those 3am shows on non-commercial radio, some chump playing you his favorite (usually obscure and often really, really boring) music and expanding on topics nobody is interested in but him (and maybe you), but you don't have to stay up all night to hear it. Who does it hurt? No one. Who does it help? Maybe the chump. Maybe you. Maybe nobody. There are worse vanities. Here was my reply, in part:

FWIW, I blog mainly as a way to keep from going insane, and not because I believe anyone needs to see my drivel. It's like DIY spam... I'm not nearly as hip and swell as a person really ought to be to keep a blog. My blog is not especially thought-provoking and serves mainly to reveal my self-centeredness, my naivete, my ignorance and my severe case of utter dullness. So really it's kind of a self-bullying exercise. :)

... I went on to state that I was so average that it pleased me a little to think that anyone ever read it or was mildly entertained by it.

I was thinking earlier about how having a blog is like having a sort of censored version of your diary laying around. You probably wouldn't discuss that pesky foot fungus or mysterious rash on a blog (vs. a diary), but you may write about things that not all your friends know about you. Like, a couple of friends now know that we go to church. GASP!

But they still remain friends, thus far anyway. Wonder if they are waiting for us to pull some born-again move -- "Would you like this badly written and terribly acted videotape of the Greatest Story Ever Told, free of charge and with no strings attached?" Not to worry. Not all Christians are weirdos. For more on this, read Ann Lamott's Traveling Mercies.

Well, I'm in trouble once again. Must finish cleaning. Wife about to start beating me. And I would deserve it. Party tomorrow and house so close to being clean...

Old People Have Needs Too

Bet you thought I'd be writing about my own needs, but you're wrong. And I'm not old!

Julianna ended up on The Mailing List From Hell recently by ordering plants off the internet. So today we received a Carol Wright Gifts catalog. You know, the funky catalog with all the goofy shit in it like "Slimming Shapers (tm)," the allegedly comfortable and lightweight garment that looks like an elastic mummy costume and is meant to smooth out those "unsightly lumps and bumps." They show saggy before and perky after shots of roly-poly middle aged women whose lumps and bumps are to the naked eye less noticeable in the after shots but who are probably hypoxic since they certainly can't breathe swaddled in that tight gidle. You know this catalog -- chenille bedspreads, country lace curtains, kitchen rugs featuring your choice of lighthouse or barnyard scenes, vinyl hanger covers, and (among my favorites) "Spring Fancy Clamdiggers."

Some of the items are rather intriguing, or at least would seem to fill a need you may not be able to fill elsewhere -- I don't know of anyplace else you might be able to get a sturdy, polystyrene shelf for the top of your tv, with adjustable legs, to hold your vcr or similar. Nor a slug & snail trap "shaped like an adorable frog." Or -- and try to deny you want one, go ahead -- a "Tighty Whities Farting Key Chain."

But where it gets interesting is a page near the back. They segue into it by having some fairly benign personal care products on the page preceding. Hair growth cream, ear wax removal tool (lighted, no less), fingernail strengthener polish. Then they hit you with -- gasp! -- the Sexual Aids and Videos.

I dig the three different types of vibrators, two of which feature photos of women using them to "massage" their neck areas. (Good heavens, where do they get models for this? "Okay, now, use the vibrator to massage your neck. That's what it's for, after all. And try to look insipid!") They evidently "stimulate circulation and soothe tired, aching muscles on your neck, back, shoulders, arms and legs," and to suggest otherwise brands you as the perverted sicko that you are! For shame!

One, however, actually comes right out and states graphically that it is designed to serve "dual pleasure points," and is shaped accordingly. Probably couldn't really be coy about something that specific and obvious.

So my theory, and this both amuses and saddens me, is that a person could be in deep denial that they were purchasing a marital aid. See, it's for my neck! But you know that they would be stocking up on batteries and checking the mail twice a day for four to six breathless weeks, then drawing the curtains and taking the phone off the hook when it finally arrived in its plain brown wrapper...

Twenty YEARS?!

Okay, a twenty year high school reunion is something that happens to Other People, old people, for instance my brother. Whose hair is almost entirely white and who has huge, knobby hands like a geezer.

But, um, suddenly I'm not just fat, but evidently old too.

As in, I'm on the committee for my 20 year high school reunion.

And weird, weird things are happening. Like, my mama's-boy high school boyfriend is supposedly on the committee too. (It turns out he isn't, or not to his knowledge anyway.) So I swallowed my pride and did the hard thing which was to email him and apologize for being a total bitch to him when we parted company, in freaking 1987 for God's sake, and not only did he email me back right away, it wasn't to tell me to f*ck off and die, it was to say "Ah, I was an ass too and it doesn't matter and how the hell are you?"

Oh. My. God. I have been carrying around such guilt and regret -- I was such a cow to him, and so had my head way up my ass. I mean, don't get me wrong, we needed to split up and bad, but I was a jerk and as a result lost not only what friendship I might have had with him (not much, realistically) but also with my best friend Allison. Who had the nerve to rat me out to him for stepping out without first decently breaking it off with him, and then the unmitigated gall to act as if I -- gasp! -- deserved it! And was even willing to -- gaaaah! -- carry on as if I was a human being allowed to make mistakes!

For this, naturally, I chewed her out and wrote her off. Hey, I did say my head was way up my ass, right?

And now he's sending me a pleasant email and acting all nice.

Wonders never cease.

I'm baaaaack

Phoenix was fun, although the nasty stomach bug I got right as I returned home was not so great. Delia is a great traveler and has been sleeping practically non stop, catching up on all the missed naps. She had the nerve to fall asleep on the plane as we took off for home, slept an hour and a half -- and I'd packed all my reading materials since I'd had no time at all to look at them on the way to Phoenix.

Man, they have some weird shit in that Skymall catalog, that's all I'm going to say.

Friend Patti sent me this, I don't generally send them out to friends but I did return it to her and will post it here. Feel free to comment with your answers!

1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? The Nanny (the one about a New York nanny, nothing to do with Fran Drescher) -- it's supposed to be funny but I mostly find it kind of sad.
3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME? Scrabble, Monopoly in a pinch although it brings back memories of playing with my mercenary brother and living in fear of landing on any of his properties which naturally was most of the board, and all heavily hotel'ed.
4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE? Smithsonian, National Geographic
5. FAVORITE SMELLS? vanilla, lavender, apple pie
6. FAVORITE FOODS? chocolate, strawberries, caesar salad, tapioca pudding (homemade preferably), ribeye steak cooked rare, mmmmm.... hungry now...
7. FAVORITE SOUND? Rain on the roof, surf, frogs in a marsh
8. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD? Rug-pulled-out-from-under-you when something goes bad all of a sudden
9. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE? Ugh, what time is it? (usually awakened by baby around 5:30 am)
10. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE? Taco Bell
11. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME? Grace, William
12. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "If I had a lot of money" I would travel a lot and set up college funds for all the children in my family
13. DO YOU DRIVE FAST? Sometimes but not as much as I used to. I don't like getting tickets.
14. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? Not unless you count Wilbur (cat), she's kind of tubby but I don't think you could call her stuffed.
15. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY? Cool now, but when I was little I was terrified of the power going off, it felt like the end of the world. We lived in Florida so it happened frequently. I have had bad dreams about that.
16. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? Severely oxidized blue 1966 Chevy Bel-Air four-door sedan that I bought from (a mutual work friend), which had been in (another mutual work friend)'s family I think since it was new! The dashboard was metal and a mile long and I'm sure would have killed us all in a crash. I liked to say it had a three-dead-body trunk...
17. FAVORITE DRINK? Hot: vanilla latte, cold: real Coke with sugar and everything, over crushed ice if available.
18. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD" do more calligraphy and scrapbooking
19. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI? Yes.
20. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE BE?
I wouldn't......I love my red hair. (ditto, Patti!)
21. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN:
Oak Harbor WA; Rota, Spain; Jacksonville, FL; Tigard/Beaverton/Silverton/West Linn/Portland OR (same general vicinity for thirty odd years); Vancouver WA
22. GLASS - HALF EMPTY OR FULL? Depends on how my PMS/Seasonal Affective is doing. Half full most of the time...
23. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Um, I don't watch sports. Except a little during the Olympics. Sometimes.
24. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Sweet as the day is long and would give you the shirt off her back if it'd help you out.
25. WHAT IS UNDER YOUR BED? A box with art paper in it, and probably some dust bunnies
26. TOILET PAPER/PAPER TOWEL-OVER OR UNDER? over
27. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL? Forced to be a morning person, naturally tend toward night owl
28. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP? Ugh! Over medium at least!
29. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX? In a cheap plastic adirondack chair on the front porch of my old house. Now that we've moved, the couch until we get a back porch going that is relax-worthy.
30. FAVORITE PIE? Apple crumb, or cherry if somebody else makes it!
31. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU E-MAILED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO
RESPOND? I didn't email it to anybody but you, but I'm sticking it in my blog (www.impetua.blogspot.com)
32. LEAST LIKELY? n/a

Delia!

Really! I understand your need to pick at things while nursing? But must you pinch?

The Lord Giveth

... And the tax man taketh away.

Actually we came out a couple grand ahead this year so we can't complain. Didn't bother to file til today though, out of sheer laziness. So I had to go to the store and get stamps (also something I didn't do earlier for no good reason) and then drive all the way to Portland to put the various forms (state and county, we e-filed the feds) into the mail at the main post office since I don't know where there is one here and didn't feel like driving around looking for it in the dark. Since we didn't get it done til after Survivor was over.

That Multnomah County tax really pisses me off though. At least we won't have to pay it next year since we don't live there anymore. Like federal and state taxes aren't enough already... Imagine funding your schools through extra taxes on top of the levies and crap they are constantly shoving through the ballot measures, rather than having a stable, adequate funding stream that does not waver and flicker according to the whims of the few voters who bother to show up... not to mention using lottery profits... how's that for ethical? Maybe there's some tobacco money involved too! And why not use some of the taxes they collect from alcohol! "Drink more booze! Class sizes are getting too big again! One more shot! Come on, do it for the kids! "

Okay, enough of that silliness. Just glad to be out of that particular crazy system. I'm sure there are plenty of idiosyncracies to be had right here in Vancouver. But not in relation to school funding. So I'm told.

Delia spent this evening attending her first t-ball game with us. Almost-5-year-old nephew Tommy's team, the Marlins, was playing their first game of the season. We shot a good 15 minutes of high-quality 100 % digital footage (can you still call it footage although no actual lengths of film are used? hmm) of him out on the field dancing, wriggling, jumping up and down, and grabbing himself. Yes sir, this young man has a future in baseball, once he learns how to spit anyway. That was when he got to play first base, his favorite position. When they put him in as shortstop the next inning he sort of sashayed out there, which sadly we did not get on video, but it would have made any decent drag queen squeal in envy. Other children spent their field time digging in the dirt and wandering around aimlessly or, occasionally, paying actual attention to the game. The game was four innings long and must have lasted four hours from the way things were going by the time we left. We had to go because Delia hadn't had dinner and was getting squirmy, but frankly I'd seen about all the 5-year-old baseball I needed to see of an evening, and then some. Not that it wasn't fun and I'll certainly do it again, because Tommy's a great little guy and it means a lot to him, but I don't know that I'll necessarily attend all the games or stay the whole time every time. We can always blame Delia...

After we got home and had dinner, Delia spent the remainder of her evening doing something I've seen her doing more the last couple of days, which is sitting by the doll cradle she got for Christmas and removing the doll and stuffed bears from it. Then she puts them back in. Then takes them out again. All the while huffing and puffing with monkey lips and/or babbling a variety of sounds. It's pretty hilarious. She's even figuring out that you can use a blanket to cover up the doll/bears. The doll is a soft doll with vinyl face, sort of a "baby's first dolly" kind of thing, and she enjoys picking it up by its butt (where the tag is, you see) and waving it around because it jingles (very exciting) or else trying to scratch its screen-printed eyes off with her fingernail. But then! (and this is very exciting! by parental standards, anyway) she appeared to hug the doll this evening! She only just started to hug us in the past month or so and even then it's only if she's tired or just woke up. But each day it seems she does it a little more and appears to enjoy it for its own sake and not just for comfort when she's fragile. Actual affection! Whoa!

She's so close to walking. Her balance is improving day by day and she sometimes stands up from all fours without touching anything around her -- she has taken a step or two toward something (usually a dog) but I wouldn't really call it walking. Soon, though... very soon...

Too Many Books?

Is there such a thing?

Went back to the library sale on Sunday when books were two dollars for a whole grocery sack full. Got many, some for Shannon but plenty for us too. If I had not had a wriggling young'un in an umbrella stroller (such a handy device for crowded venues!) I would have stayed longer, browsed more comprehensively, and perhaps come away with multiple bags. But as it was I had only one bag. And somebody from the sale still had to help me carry it up the stairs since I couldn't get both the books and the baby in one trip.

J's in Philadelphia right now at a conference about metering. Sounds too exciting. But she will get to spend the morning Friday cruising around getting Delia a Liberty Bell bank. We saw the bell and Independence Hall about five years ago when we got cheap tickets to Washington DC and spent a week there looking at Smithsonian museums, then in the middle of it all we hopped a train up to Philadelphia to see a Maxfield Parrish exhibit (which became the highlight of the trip for me). We hiked up the way to see the bell etc. which was cool despite the fact that my feet hurt so bad I could hardly see straight. We noticed one thing about Philly that lingers on in my memory: bad sewer-gas type smells constantly wafting up from the sidewalk grates. It was like Calcutta on a hot day. What's the deal?!

Anyway J is lonely in the hotel at night and wishes we'd just bought ticket for me and Delia and spent the dough on a few more nights at the hotel. The expense of it plus the lengthy flight held us back but now I wish I'd gone.

Looking forward to going to Phoenix in less than three weeks though! Plotting and scheming what to take etc. We'll go see Frank Lloyd Wright's Taliesin West, maybe hit the Native American museum there, etc. Then slouch around with Cindy for the weekend. Fun!

Library Sale, Dogfighting, the Usual

So the sale closed about ten minutes after I got there... But I power-browsed and came away with a vintage L.M.M. Montgomery, an Anne Lamott, Margaret Cho's I'm the One That I Want, and three children's books: Blitz, about a fire-station horse, a copy of which I had as a child, and two Pippi Longstocking titles. All for four dollars and fifty cents.

Tomorrow J's family descends upon us for post-Easter Eastering. Everyone was too sick/newly born/something to come on Easter, so we are having the whole shebang tomorrow. J's Mom has been threatening to either come stay the night at either our or Shannon's house, thereby creating drama by complaining about the accomodations and spreading her crap out all over the kitchen, or arriving at our house at 10am for a 2pm gathering so as to "help" get everything ready, i.e. create drama by being in the way, the aforementioned spreading out of the crap, perhaps bringing her nasty little barking dog with her, chain smoking on the back patio in the rain and complaining and telling us what we "oughta" do, such as get at least an umbrella if not cover the patio altogether (effectively eliminating all the delicious sunshine which is one of the family room's finest redeeming features).

She's insisted on bringing the ham (probably freezer-burned, and missing a chunk already as I understand it) as well as potato salad. How do you tell someone you don't want them to bring their nasty dried up ham? Without hurting their feelings, that is. I'm pretty well versed in how to do it the ugly way. But is there a tactful way?!

She likes to tell everyone what they "oughta" do, such as name one's children some other name more appealling to her than the one chosen which, she is sure to announce, she doesn't like. When confronted by one of J's sisters on this habit of telling people that she doesn't like the name they have lovingly hand-picked for their precious bundle of joy, she appeared truly confused and said that she had to tell them how she feels, doesn't she? As if she had no choice in the matter.

I'm sure that if this is the extent of my complaints about her, that she is loud and likes to create drama and is unhelpful and annoying, I have it pretty easy by many people's standards when it comes to their in-laws. She's accepted me into the family and treats our daughter no differently than any of the other grandkids, i.e. lavishes gifts on her at every turn and will no doubt teach her to beg for M&M's like the others as soon as she can walk over and open her mouth on command. So perhaps I "oughta" cut her a break... She's over 60 and not in the best of health. I don't want to regret saying bad things and being less than gracious... Although grace is frequently not one of my stronger features.

Well, I should run. J has gone to the store for the last-minute purchases vital to all family gatherings, plus Neosporin and that spongy elastic wrap for the dog. The dogs have lost their spectator privileges in the dining room by having a huge snarly snappy bitey fight as we were having dinner. The like to hang out under the highchair and wait for snippets of whatever Delia's eating. Liked, I should say. Hope has a pretty comprehensive bite on her front leg that will be looked at tomorrow by J's sister the vet, and Ollie has one on her ear that goes to the cartilage. From now on they will spend our mealtimes in their beds with the door shut. I worry what will happen one day when Delia is old enough to eat at the table in a regular chair. What if she gets down and is wandering around with food? I don't think the dogs would attack her, but they will attack each other and what if Delia got in the middle of it? It's too horrible to think about. I know we will be very careful but we are human, accidents happen, mistakes are made... I don't want Delia to pay for a little lapse of attention.

Clearly I worry a lot. Recently we discovered she has kind of a slight bulge, or bump, on the top of her head, right where the growth plates come together in the front, and I literally could not sleep until it was looked at. In the blacker parts of my imagination I practically had the kid in major reconstructive surgery and badly disfigured by a skull deformity -- My beautiful girl! My precious angel! -- in the two days that went by until the doctor's appointment. Of course the doctor said it didn't look like anything to be worried about and just to keep an eye, and now it seems less prominent than it did, and I'm just an overprotective first-time parent. But it ruled my life for a couple of days and I found myself getting all sobby and weird in the car on the way home from the pool the night before the appointment.

Parenthood is fraught with genuine reasons for worry. Perhaps I should work on not making them up as well.

Spring Madness

Julianna has begun the feverish accumulation of plants for the yard. Every day there's another parcel in the mail for her -- yesterday, fifty gladiolus bulbs and some freebie carrot and giant sunflower seeds. Today, two butterfly bush plants, some clematis, liatris, hosta, you name it. It's nuts. At least she's laying off the trees. The yard is only so big. We already have a new stick, er, tree in the back yard, a white birch that came as a stick about one foot long. Now it's a foot long stick with leaves on it, protected from the hounds with a tomato cage!

Most of the trees here have leaves, or at least poofy little leaf-beginnings, and some have passed through the flowering already. Our dinky little azalea is covered in lime-green new leaves and little flowerbuds, and the camellia is blooming. I don't actually like camellias all that much, the blooms get all brown so fast and drop to the ground and lay there decomposing, it's just not all that attractive in my opinion. Better to have a nice hydrangea.

Hee hee! Julianna just came to inform me that I must go to the public library book sale RIGHT NOW! It's a rough life...

New swimsuit! 

Easter basket fun.  

Back AWAY from the Easter Candy!

Returned to Fat Losers about one month ago; was sheepish, crestfallen, but entirely unsurprised to find I had gained back TWELVE POUNDS. Over the winter. While eating exactly like a hypoglycemic NFL linebacker. Then skipped two weeks mainly out of despair, depression, scheduling conflicts, denial, etc. Returned on week 3 to find self two pounds LIGHTER despite eating like a horse. This week found am down another 1.4 pounds, through absolutely no virtue of my own. Huh.

Then in mail today came my Danskin Triathlon training t-shirt. Ordered the size I generally wear but find it is enormous. Huh. Well, shit. Wonder if it can be returned?

Went to water aerobics twice this week, worked my butt off (I hope anyway) and am planning to go to pool tomorrow. And here's why I am planning to go to pool tomorrow:

I'm going to Phoenix in one month! For almost a week! And taking baby with me! So we bought her a little teensy swimsuit today! OMFG it's the Cutest. Thing. Ever. So we have to try it out, right? Shannon has free passes to the local Y... Julianna plans to sit in the bleachers and take pictures. Of me in my swimsuit (also new and would be very fetching if it weren't upholstering my enormous ass). I don't think so.

Delia's never been in a pool before but loves the bathtub. So we will see how it goes! I'll take one of her toys with me and we'll sit in the shallow end -- it is one of those sloped-entry pools so you start right at ground level and it ramps right down without stairs.

So I'm hoping to play with Delia in the water for a bit and then either swim after handing her off to Julianna, or else get dressed and play around with the exercise equipment.

Baby girl up at 4:30 this morning, I got her up and brought her to bed but she wouldn't stay snoozy for long so we got up for good at 5:10 am. I went to bed at 11pm last night. So J and I thought, we'll have a nice pizza and movie night -- ate the pizza -- plugged in the movie -- I promptly fell asleep and woke up an hour later with drool on my shirt, to find J asleep as well. Yep, we're parents all right...

Inspirational Thought

Found this on a website. John Bingham is a runner who evangelizes the art of running for its own sake.

Why It's Worth The Effort

MOST OF THE CHANGES that a more active lifestyle brings are invisible. Sure, in time you may find that your clothes fit a little differently. If you are new to running, you may find that a distance that once seemed impossible now seems easy. If you are more experienced, you may find that your long runs and speed work are yielding tangible results.

But these changes are not the ones that are the most important. The changes that matter most are the ones going on inside, where you can’t see them. I'm not talking about the subtle increases in the strength of your heart or lungs or legs. I'm talking about the very real changes in the strength of your resolve and your spirit.

Each day that you invest in yourself, you are becoming more of what you want to be. By giving yourself permission to dream of new PRs or completing a 5K, you are making sure that there is hope in your life. Instead of looking backwards to the good old days, you are assuring yourself that the best is yet to come.

At the heart of the matter, the real changes are in how you think about yourself. By discovering your limitations and then overcoming them, you can learn to be your own hero. And that, for most of us, is the biggest change of all.

9 months

9 months 

She likes to look out the window at the backyard...

I is a Kollidge Gradyooate

Julianna happened upon this swell college fund thingy which we are enrolling baby Delia in, probably tonight. Prepay at today's prices for college 18 years hence! And there's provisions and so forth if the child opts out of college or whatever. I think it's swell. Here's the website: http://www.get.wa.gov/index.html

Other than that, not a lot going on that is blogworthy. Fighting some doldrums which are sort of typical for me. Seasonal Affective if you must know. But things are good overall and I'll be fine.

TV Meme

From mamacate's site:

1. How much space is left on your TIVO?
We don't have Tivo. We only have expanded basic cable because the cable company made a mistake. We are only supposed to have reception cable.

2. Have you ever bought a DVD of a tv series and if so which one?
Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a couple seasons so far, and Futurama. Also Ren & Stimpy.

3. What was the last tv show you watched before reading this message?
Can't remember. Some crime thing a la CSI. They all look alike to me.

4. List five shows you won't miss:
Well, I wouldn't say that I won't miss them, because I frequently do. We go through phases of not watching much tv, we watch a show for a while and then sort of drop it, etc. But these are the ones we are currently watching:
Extreme Home Makeover (because I like the fact that they do these houses for deserving people, plus the designers all cry like French soccer players)
Desperate Housewives
Survivor (some seasons)
Scrubs
Everwood


5. List your favorite shows of all time:
Will & Grace (if only just to watch Karen Walker, but I like 'em all really)
The Nanny. Stop laughing! I don't know why I like it but I do. Fran Drescher is pretty fabulous.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
The Dick Van Dyke Show
Mary Tyler Moore
I Love Lucy. I had a postcard of Lucille Ball up in my locker all four years of high school; I still have the postcard.

Boring House Stuff

Boring House Stuff 

We chose some siding and paint colors finally. This online tool gives a pretty fair representation of the colors and siding styles we chose -- it's vinyl, which I'd apologize for more except that a) it's reasonably priced and b) you don't have to paint it, which is time consuming and not cheap and a huge pain in the ass. The downsides, of course, are that a) it's vinyl, and b) you are stuck with the color forever. But if you choose colors that are kinda neato, like for instance we did, then you might not hate it a few years down the line. Every other house in the neighborhood is a varying shade of beige or grey or cream, or creamy greyish beige, or whatever, except a couple that are (gasp!) brown! And one that is a deliciously garish swimming pool blue, and not the sort of minty grandma color but almost robin's egg. Man oh man.

Anyway our house actually has two gables, one above the main part of the house and one above the garage, which would be the left part of this picture instead of the two windows, and the right side has a bay window instead of the two windows shown. We are painting the garage door a color of blue that will closely match the siding. They can't really fully match it as the siding has sort of striations through it so that it's not just a solid color. So I'm almost wondering if we shouldn't paint it either the color of the gables (green) or the trim color ("desert tan"). We will get paint samples beforehand so we can decide then I suppose.

This whole siding thing has been an educational experience. It turns out that buying siding is like buying a car. You may find a decent contractor who just wants to make a decent living, or you may find a real jerk who is out to gouge you. Our first offer was from A Popular Home Improvement Store with the word "Depot" in the name... We only got an estimate as a joke, really, figuring it'd be outrageously expensive. Hunh. Yeah. It was $13,600. The second one was by a guy who did the place across the street -- nice guy, pretty small operation, friendly etc. Uses good materials and does a good solid job. $6,400. Much mo' betta!

Then we got one from a guy who's doing a house down the street here. After making a huge deal about what great guys they are and how they do great work etc etc, they hemmed and hawed and told us they wanted to put their bid in last so they could try to beat everyone else's. Pfft. Real professional! So we entertained his bid of $9,200 (using a crappy grade of siding) and then told him about the other bid. "Oh. Well. That's a good bid," he says. "Gosh now that I have a better idea about what colors and details you guys want etc etc I'll look around and get back to you." Haven't heard from him since. Ha! We wouldn't use them anyway because they pulled the "don't sign any contracts until I get a chance to look them over for you because you are two women and therefore stupid and need looking after" thing (they didn't say the women part out loud but you heard it anyway), plus the fact that they wanted to suck another three grand out of us "just 'cause." And, they are taking forty fucking forevers on the house down the street.

The half-round up in the gables will drive the price up a little but not much, and we also have to get the painting done but he has a fellow who does it for him and it won't cost that much. He's also got someone to do our fence. Yay! We like him a lot, he's a nice guy and just out to make a decent living. We've seen his work and it is good quality. So we're feeling pretty positive overall. He says he can start in about two weeks...

Where Am I?

Found this at mamacate's blog:

bold the states you've been to, underline the states you've lived in and italicize the state you're in now...

Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington D.C /

Obviously have some traveling yet to do.

Go HERE to have a form generate the HTML for you.

Has Anybody Seen My Ass?

Well, if you have, then you know it's time for me and my ass to get back on the Fat Losers wagon -- or rather, walk beside it to earn some AP's. So I went to my first Vancouver meeting this morning and was surprised to observe actual energy emanating from the group leader -- she knew people by name, was enthusiastic without being smarmy, and didn't mention church functions or people she knew from church or being on the way home from church and seeing a donut shop and resisting the urge to stop and inhale a dozen or any other use or insinuation of the word "church." The whole meeting was refreshingly free of religiosity in any form.

I didn't have to take Delia with me as Julianna stayed home today due to a sort of mix-up concerning picking up a bed someone gave us, which she was going to take down to her sister Amy for one of their urchins to use. It turned out not to be a good day for visiting Amy so the bed could have stayed where it was another few days but by then we'd already arranged to pick it up, so I ended up getting it after my dentist appointment. (Nitpicky details: it's a woman from church giving it to us, but I hardly wanted to mention that in light of paragraph 1 of this blog post. And I'm seeing the dentist to have a crown replaced. Fun!) Shannon would have watched Delia for me and J could have gone to work, but maybe it's better she stayed home. She was sort of tired and grouchy all day because she's coming down with a cold or something. Of course, it might have been better for me if she'd gone to work, but I'm sure she would have returned home in a really fabulous mood...

Delia is growing like a weed, she eats everything now just about -- we were being all careful and not giving her anything potentially allergenic at first, but in the course of eating out and at others' homes she's had most things now, like egg whites and tomatoes and dairy producst and stuff like that. But not peanut butter since I am exceptionally allergice to nuts and mildly allergic to peanuts. She loves seasoned food (vs. baby foods which are oh so bland) and so for dinner she had black beans, taco meat, and cheddar cheese. I ground up the beans and meat in a food mill and added the cheese to it, nuked the whole shebang long enough to warm it up a little, and away she went. Followed it up with peach slices and a few bites of what we had (pasta). So now I put away little tubs of leftovers from our dinners in the freezer and we are slowly phasing out the little gold-plated jars of specialty baby food. She loves spaghetti, pizza, homemade turkey soup, you name it. She's amazing.

In another few weeks I'll start watching Shannon's baby Josie two days a week. Shannon is still a little twitchy over the fact that we won't let her pay us for this, but really we just want to trade. It's only for about six weeks until the school year is up, so that's twelve days, so it won't be that much really. I figure, since Shannon's off for the summer she can watch Delia here and there while I run errands or go for bike rides or work out or whatever. We can schedule it for times that Shannon doesn't have other things going on so she's not paying all summer long for twelve days of child care. Then next school year we will look into whether I'll be watching Josie some more, and possibly Thomas before/after kindergarten. I think it'll be fine, really -- and I am absolutely the last person you'd think would say that, but really I mean it. I'm sure some days will be not so great, if one/two/all of us get sick or are just tired and grouchy or whatever, but it feels like the right thing to do, for all the kids, Delia included. Shannon can spell me during the summers, maybe even -- gasp! -- take Delia overnight once in a while once she's old enough to tolerate such a thing. They'll save money, the kids will all be able to hang out together here on Beaver Cleaver Street, it'll be a good thing. I'm sure the neighbors will all get a kick out of watching me hiking up the street with Delia in the stroller and Josie in the front pack...

Kaboom!

Julianna and I, and the rest of the neighborhood, woke to the sound of an explosion at 2:30 this morning. Turns out someone blew up a Hyundai at an apartment complex a few blocks away. I guess the force of the blast knocked doors off their hinges and cupboards right from the walls at the apartments. It shook our whole house pretty hard but nothing was broken. We very confusedly poked around the house looking out windows for a minute, then returned to bed. I heard sirens as we were dropping back off to sleep. We still had no idea what had happened.

To wake Julianna from a dead sleep, now you know that was a big boom. :)

This morning I kept hearing helicopters fly over so I thought maybe something was up, and then FBI and ATF officials were on the scene as of 7am as we watched the news, but I haven't heard anything else yet. I didn't watch the evening blather. Instead, I spent a glorious hour in the garage scraping litter boxes! Oh, joy of joys...

Mom

Mom 

This is a photo of my mother when she was just a young lass. She's the one on the right; we don't know who the other child is. Mom looks about 3 or 4 so I imagine this was taken around 1950-ish, as she was born in 1946. She looks a lot like my brother's youngest son Seamus in this picture.

The Glitch in the System

Naturally, the adoption decree has an error in it and must be amended. They put Delia's birthdate as April 12th, which is not correct. Ah well, it's probably an easy fix, and it doesn't change the fact that her adoption is final. It's not like they can take it away over a clerical error. I hope.

Not much to report today in this, The Most Boringly Domestic Blog In The Whole World. (Or is that The Most Domestically Boring Blog? Hm.) We spent the morning getting the bedroom finished up mostly, then the office, then went over to Shannon's for pizza and video games with Tommy, and now we are loafing. Big exciting day!

Though there really is some good stuff to report: Delia is not only crawling like a pro, and starting to rove about just for the sake of exploration, she also can pull herself up with thrilling regularity! I witnessed it myself today several times; she grabs onto the couch with both grippy little hands (and sometimes her teeth as well) and whoop! There she is! Standing up! And groping wildly for the remote, the newspaper, the cat, whatever might be up there. It's a sight to see, I'll tell ya.

She started the crawling thing in earnest one day recently when I sat down on the sofa across from her while eating a piece of toasted homemade bread (a Julianna speciality). She was off like a shot, shimmied right over to me and made a play for my toast. What could I do but share?!

Other than that, my big thrill of the day was going to pick up J's prescription, then to the local Linens 'N Things 'N Crap 'N Stuff for some (gasp!) curtain rods, a butter dish, and some cake pans. Whoa, this is living the high life eh? Tomorrow we can expect more of the same, that is, hanging the aforementioned curtain rods, putting away more junk, etc.

Julianna is itching to get the garage put together too in order that she might use the new toys I got her for Valentine's Day (given early in accordance with tradition; we both blow our surprises to one another with seething regularity every Christmas and birthday). I went on down to Harbor Freight, the local purveyor of "Made in China" power tools for the un-snobby, frugally-minded crowd, i.e. tightwads, i.e. Julianna (ha ha just kidding, she's frugal but definitely not a tightwad, witness the Mazda out in the driveway she bought for me brand new for my birthday three years ago). Anyway she had pointed out a couple of things in their store circular that came with the paper a while ago and I kept it... packed it around in secret for nearly two weeks... mwahahaha! So Friday I raced out there and picked up a rock tumbler and a benchtop-mount drill press. Neither one the "Joe Professional Gold Plated Made by Norwegian Elves" model, but modestly priced hobbyist stuff as befits Julianna. I figure, if she wears these out, we can upgrade...

The hardest working goldfish in Vancouver

Oh, that Lumpy. He is one dazzling hunk-a hunk-a burning luuuuuuuurv. He swims up and down the tank most enticingly, trolling for some "goldfish crumbles" which I serve up fresh and tasty several times per day, per the instructions on the canister. It's gotta be hard to swim that beautifully and fast with what amounts to a vicious hunchback perched on his right dorsal fin.

Delia has two Mommies!

Legally speaking, anyway! The adoption was final on Monday the 7th. We should get her amended birth certificate in the mail tomorrow. :)

Beany assists me this evening by laying on my right forearm and purring. Earlier he assisted me in putting the baby to bed for a nap by coming into her room and sitting on the footrest next to the chair I was sitting in as I nursed her. He purred and purred, and reached out to touch my arm or my knee with his paw (and once, near-disastrously, her head, with claws extended, but he only brushed her hair with his talons). She could not settle down with all this excitement but kept breaking free to flop backwards and gaze at him in wonderment. Finally I had to put her in the crib awake, which is actually not a bad thing, and while there was a bit of hollering, she dropped off pretty quickly.

So today's Domestic Update: Shannon came over and scrubbed our toilets with a pumice stone, neatly removing the rust/mineral buildup rings that marred their otherwise hygienic appearance quite severely. Kudos to Shannon! I could not stop her; she met me at the door with her baby in one arm and her little cleaning caddy in the other. She was quite pleased with herself when done (as anyone would have been, really).

I spent some time looking through boxes marked "Crafts Etc." which is code for "some craft supplies intermingled with a whole lotta crap." Actually managed to get some things separated out to get rid of, some for Julianna to peruse and decide about, and some to put away in my cabinet.

Amy's baby shower/our housewarming/Delia's adoption party will be Saturday Feb. 19th, so obviously we have a lot to do this weekend...

Life as we know it

Sunday evening... Doing a little computering before bed.

Baby appears to have a minor snotty head cold, but it doesn't seem to be bothering her too much. She has been eating like it's going out of style. Like twice as much as last week. We aren't sure where she's putting it... Also she's working on sleeping through the night, without waking up to nurse. This means she peeps and squawks, and I ignore it, and she goes back to sleep. She does wake up pretty early for the day so far, between 5 and 6, but at least I will get to sleep through to that time instead of getting up to nurse her for a half hour somewhere in the 2 to 3 a.m. range. She can stay awake for three hours now instead of two before her first nap. Still not 16 pounds yet, or barely so if she is. Judging by the way she's eating I'd say she'll start packing it on soon through! But she can crawl, and is starting to pull herself up a little bit.

We have to find a new home for Slick. He's a great cat except when he's harrassing Wilbur, and she's an old lady and doesn't need that kind of hassle. We found big hanks of her hair on the rug today when we got home from church, she was hiding in Delia's closet all covered in spit, and Slick was ready to go at her again. She wasn't seriously hurt or anything but she just hates him. And I would too if I was her. I really like him but he's just bratty to her and needs to live with either no other cats or a large, oafish young cat (basically just like him) who can put up a good fight and learn to play with him. Wilbur doesn't play with other cats. She does poke at Beany a little but it seems to be all in fun...

So Julianna bought us a digital camcorder! It should be here sometime this next week. We have been wanting one for some time, to record Delia's life a little bit for her (and for ourselves of course).

Julianna is quitting smoking this week. Again. It's very difficult because she has tried many, many times, and the pattern is as follows: Friday evening, smoke last cig and then pitch remainder of pack into toilet. Saturday morning, all is well until mid-morning. Crabby nastiness sets in resulting in peevishness, nit-picking, and general ill humor. Saturday afternoon, Yours Truly finally reacts to constant barrage of snappishness and snaps back, garnering classic retaliatory statement of "You're not being helpful and supportive." Here we can go either of two ways: we apologize to one another and find something fun/distracting/tedious to do, or we dissolve into yelling/crying/stomping around and one of us goes to store to buy cigs for Julianna to smoke. IF we weather that storm and survive rest of weekend, (a big IF), she goes back to work on Monday and promptly caves in to urges by smoking with work-buddy Kirk. Argh. Entire weekend of suffering and anguish, all for naught.

So if I get angry, I'm not helping. I try to be helpful and praiseful and so forth. But how many times must I endure this? I know, it's selfish and petty not to want to help -- but I do want to help. I just am pretty weary of suffering the slings and arrows of a crabby quitter, only to watch her drive off to work knowing there's about an 80 percent chance of her smoking on day one, and if not then, then a 90 percent chance the next day, etc. And I'm just not that able to feign enthusiasm very believably.

So tomorrow is the day I must get serious about Fat Losers, or else give up the idea of triathlon. I have been shirking. The stress of moving has caused me to revert to all my classic habits of eating crap to calm myself. Sugary treats, mostly. And I do it in secret... Well, some of the more heinous episodes have been secretive. I also do it right out in the open, though with more restraint than I'm really feeling because People Are Watching Me. If I thought nobody would be repulsed I'd just keep eating from sunrise to sunset.

I notice in all the stories of people who lose tons of weight and keep it off that they all mention exercise. I'm beginning to think that there's a connection here somewhere... (ha ha!). Guess I have to get off my ass.

So here's my resolution for tomorrow: Drink 8 glasses of water (which should be easy what with the swanky side-by-side fridge with ice maker and water dispenser, not to mention free "Iron Girl" water bottle given out at Sallymanders Triathlon Club meeting last month), eat no crap, log what I'm eating, and go for a walk. Must locate my WW stuff. Also look up WW meetings in Vancouver. And perhaps, if baby does not appear to be feeling yucky, go buy new swimsuit. If Karen Drexler can watch the baby while I'm in trying on suits. If the swimsuit place is open Mondays. Lot of if's there.

I am ashamed to say I've squandered a lot of my miraculous loss of last summer, and it's depressing to start over (not completely over, but way too close to it in my opinion). But, you just have to start from where you're at and make it happen. I think of these inspiring thoughts sometimes when I'm wishing to feel more gung-ho:
1. Nobody's going to do this for me.
2. Don't think of what I'm giving up, think of what I'm getting (i.e. more fit, slimmer, more energy, get to do triathlons, etc).
3. The old WW chestnut, "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels."
4. I'll get to go clothes shopping!
5. Won't be so fat for my 20-year reunion, if there is one.
6. Exercise is good for depression.

One Hundred Percent Miscellaneous

Julianna clipped a tag off a throw rug we got for Delia's room and in doing so noticed that the content read, "100% Miscellaneous." Isn't everything, really?

Long days of housework avoidance, responsibility shirkage, inessential errand-running, etc. I find myself doing the oddest things. Today I rinsed and stored an aquarium's worth of gravel from the old tank downstairs which thankfully Julianna broke when dismantling. If we still had it we would be forced to store it ad infinitum, then one of us (fifty/fifty really who it would be) would have this brilliant idea to fire it up and have two fishtanks, twice the fishy pleasure and also twice the responsibility. Funny how that never comes up in all the excited planning stages. Poor Lumpy can tell you what it's like to live in a sad, neglected algae-riddled tank in the basement...

Looking forward to Friday when we can once again put a massive stack of recycling out to the curb to be hauled away by the Garbage Fairies (a big, burly, aromatic type of fairy known for its early morning schedule and tendency toward a beer gut). Still plugging away at the crap nobody knows what to do with. I am determined to tackle the last kitchen box tomorrow, also some boxes of stuff left hanging around in the family room. Poor homeless things. This is not even to mention the umpteen boxes piled in a corner of the living room marked either "Craft Etc" or "Deb's Workbench." They are stuffed with God only knows what... most of which I just must offload. It is starting to feel kind of good to get rid of stuff, streamline, simplify. Tedious, but satisfying, thereby meeting two of my most important criteria: Can I spend hours deliberating over whether To Keep, or To Throw Away? And can I feel all giddy with relief once it's over?

The unfortunate part is that Julianna insists that she be consulted concerning the disposal of many items which are piling up all over waiting for her royal audience. There's not a lot of time after work/baby bedtime what with all that other vitally important stuff we do, i.e. make brownies and talk on the phone (me) and researching via Internet every last nuance of vinyl siding (Julianna). Also unfortunate but super charming is that the baby demands to be fed, cleaned, and entertained on a regular basis, and when napping requires a type of silence heretofore unknown outside of monasteries and the Harvard Law Library. Nonetheless, I do get a few things done. Today was ironing day (ridiculous, to be sure, but tedious and satisfying per previously stated requirements) plus the aforementioned gravel-maintenance.

Argh, must run. House is so very quiet, free of the squeaky floors of the old house, that Julianna has walked past this room several times and I have thought she was still outside with the dogs... To bed! So... tired...

Sniff Sniff

Went by the old house today to get the mail. Couldn't go inside as the baby had only a limited number of transitions to/from carseat that she would tolerate. I didn't want to waste one knowing I had other stops, and I'll be going by the house one more time before the Handing Over of the Keys anyway. But I looked in the front window and was sad... It's all empty and devoid of life. That was our first house, and though I am overwhelmingly glad we moved to this larger, brighter, airier Burbhaus, it's still hard to let go. We brought Delia home to that house. We remodeled the bedrooms. We learned a lot about home ownership there.

But we hated the neighbors and this house is nicer, burby as it is, so I can't really in all honesty get too weepy.

We spent last night unpacking, an activity that will no doubt take us the better part of a month to really complete. (As will typing this blog entry if the cat keeps jumping up here to "assist" me. Emphasis on the ass part, as she keeps sticking her furry little cat butt right up in the screen. It was even more frustrating when I was trying to waste time playing a game.) Anyway I got the books unpacked and shelved -- alphabetically of course, with a nod to those halcyon days spent as a page at the Central Library. Well, the fiction is alphabetical. Other categories of books are a little more loosely grouped and not so rigorously organized. In general. Really, if I could do it all over again, I'd be a librarian...

We are in purge mode, jettisoning all the crap that we were horror-stricken to find had followed us here. I have a generous box devoted to Goodwill or garage sale or whatever we end up doing with it. Otherwise we will find new homes either with friends, family, or in the landfill for other stuff, as appropriate. Naturally only the real garbage will go to the dump. Good but unwanted stuff will be farmed out, swapped, freecycled, or whatever. Donated, if nothing else.

Well, must run and make it look as if I have done something productive here today, which will take some doing since I haven't. Other than pick up the mail, return some fishtank filters that were the wrong size, and keep the baby alive and fed for one more day.

Speaking of the fish, he is the happiest damn diseased goldfish in the world. He's swimming around that tank like it's Christmas every day. Go figure. Go fish!

All American City

Well here we are in lovely Vancouver. Some moron along the route to our neighborhood from the freeway has a sign posted about how Vancouver was voted an "All American City" some year or other. Like in his yard, up above his fence so passersby can see it. Wonder who votes these things? Republicans, I bet. What does it mean to be an All American City? Predominantly white? Upper/middle class? Does Vancouver invade its neighboring cities in a fruitless yet patriotically vital search for WMD's?

This all makes me think about the military. I mean, we grow up knowing that the US has military bases all over the world, in Germany, in the Philippines, Okinawa, you name it -- but imagine what it would be like to have some other country's military bases here in the States? Like, a British naval base in Florida or something. Or some other non-caucasian nation maybe, like Egyptian or Japanese, just to throw your inherent prejudices into the works (supposing that you the reader are your average if liberal caucasian and not some kind of uber-accepting-down-to-the-marrow type that theoretically exists -- more on this in a moment.) Wouldn't that be strange? Would it feel creepy? So far as I know, no such base exists But there are American bases, filled with mainly caucasian and African-American soldiers, all over the world, in places where white and black folk don't generally live. Something to think about.

About that caucasian thing: I grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood. Black kids were bused over to my school in an effort to integrate us all -- with some success I'm sure, in that we grew up knowing that other people had different skin colors etc etc. But some of the black kids terrified me because they were culturally different in a way I did not understand. And also a few were mean. Later as an adult I lived in a predominantly black/mixed neighborhood and at least once was harrassed in a sort of small way for being white. And heard gunshots pretty regularly in the summer, which had never happened in my youthful suburban existence. I consider myself a pretty liberal, non-prejudiced person, attempt to honor all cultures blah blah blah, but I can't say that I am so comfortable with the whole race issue as to not even see a person's skin color or anything like that. I don't like walking downtown after dark and passing a group of young black men because I'm afraid of being harrassed, more so than if passing a group of young white men (although not much more so, really). So although I feel that I am pretty with-it and accepting, I can't say that I am without some inherent feelings about race. Which I deny when they pop up in my head, which I would never allow to color the way I think of any individual, which I allow are pretty much just leftover feelings from being a nervous white kid sitting next to the loudest and most potentially violent black girl in my grade. But they are still there.

Okay, on to other more mundane topics.

Baby seems to feel better today, only a little whiny, no throwing up, some actual smiling, ate a decent sized breakfast, etc. She's napping currently, which is how I find the time to (gasp!) do something besides cater to her every whim. I should be unpacking but alas, I lack motivation. I will no doubt get down to business eventually, but we are going to Costco with Shannon once Delia wakes up so I'm taking this hour to be frivolous.

Julianna got the office set up yesterday, more or less; put the table together, moved stuff around, cleared some odds and ends out. Books and DVD's remain to be shelved, printer hooked up, etc, but the general layout is intact. This is the office and cattery, the scratching post is set up in the window and the litterbox lives in the closet. Once we figure out a way to do it, the food dish will be in here too, but so far we haven't found the right spot to be a) accessible by cats and not dogs and b) secure and tip-proof. We were going to set it up on the scratching post tree but I fear it will end up knocked to the floor as we have some pretty impaired cats. Wilbur has back/leg issues from an injury when she was a tiny kitten, Beany's caboose is pretty rickety because he's pushing 16, and Slick... well, he's just a clumsy idiot. I suspect we will find a box of some kind and fasten it to the cat post up high where the dogs can't get it, and put the dish in there.

Yesterday I was sent out to coffee. I woke up with a gnarly headache, the baby was whiny and threw up her breakfast, etc. Julianna decided to stay home with us. Then she fell asleep on the couch for two and a half hours. How very helpful! She woke up as I was about to put Delia down for her second nap, and in a very contrite and guilt-stricken tone told me that she thought I should go to coffee and read the paper for a while once the baby was down. Man, I was out of there like a shot... I had a nice brainless time looking at the newspaper, then went and bought the wrong sized aquarium cover (broke ours unpacking) and returned home refreshed.

We pawned off our neon tetra to a friend so now we have just one fishtank, in the kitchen, with our beloved goldfish Lumpy in it. He looks very happy -- swimming around nibbling at the plants, maneuvering his massive tumor between the rocks, etc. It's a good life.

Tummy Aches

Last night Delia woke up at about 12:30am just screaming. I mean shrieking like she was on fire. I got up and picked her up but she didn't wake up and settle down at all, she just kept on screaming. I was really worried... She did nurse but then broke free and starting screaming again. Julianna got up at that point and we changed the baby's diaper and I kept holding her and rocking her. Finally she settled down and started tipping over on me so I laid her down and after some garden variety "I don't want to be in bed" hollering (less than five minutes probably) she went back to sleep.

She woke again at 2:40am, I went to her and picked her up and she didn't wake up really -- just tipped back over on me so I laid her down again.

Finally at 4:40am she woke, sounded just like usual, but didn't nurse with the gusto she normally has when she wakes up -- then broke free and started shrieking again. She kept turning away from me and yelling. Then I turned her back toward me (I was standing up holding her) and she vomited all down my shirt. :( She seemed to settle way down after that, so it's my guess that she has a little tummy ache. We have had a bug here this past week, first J and then me, it was quick to pass and not too severe but it made me feel tired and my stomach was sour and nasty and there were further digestive repercussions but only very briefly after which I felt nearly back to normal within a few short hours. Adding to the situation is that Delia didn't get much of a nap yesterday afternoon as we were at the new house. Today I think I'll be camping out here with her rather than haul her all over the place if she's feeling yucky. Poor baby!

Anyway after changing her and taking off her jammies which were a bit the worse for pukey wear, I took her in to Julianna to deal with while I showered. It's terribly cute, Delia was sort of groping tiredly after the cat, obviously exhausted, so J just tucked her in the bed in her arms and they both dozed off... J has been reluctant to sleep alone with the baby for fear of squashing her as she is a heavy sleeper. But now they are snoozing very peacefully...

I hate to even think about bothering them but the movers will be here in three hours and we have some things to do before they get here.

I suck

Ok, in karmic retribution J's Mom offered all on her own, with no further crock-pot wrangling, to bring a vegetable tray -- finger food to go with the easy no-utensils-needed pizza. The perfect answer. I felt like a louse.

Then, just to up the ante and make me feel smaller even than a louse, J's Mom developed an infection on her leg and ran a high fever and had to go get the infection cleaned and treated and is on antibiotics and has to go to the hospital if she runs a high fever again. So I am a mere mite now, and threatening to be busted down to microbial status if anything happens from here. So let's all think meek, wholesome get-well thoughts toward J's Mom, if only to prevent me from disappearing altogether....

T minus 48 hours and counting. We are about 80 percent packed. It's down to the last crappy stuff that's hard to pack or you don't have the proper size box for, like shoes and filing and aquariums with actual fish in them.

We had a minor scare in that J's sister Shannon reported to us that the maid never came yesterday and that the house was full of crap -- mostly a big pile of Goodwill type items, garbage and recycling in the garage. The maid appeared today -- see now I told Julianna I could have sworn I heard Emmy say Wednesday, but nooooo, that couldn't be right -- and various people, maid included, have or are going to haul off all the stuff. So by tomorrow afternoon we will have a clean home free of debris. It was nice of Emmy to have the maid come, not strictly necessary but a nice touch. It will be swell not to have to scrub much. We have our hands full here, as I do not wish to leave a pigsty behind, so we intend to give things at least a cursory vacuuming and so forth. And I insist on scrubbing the toilet etc. Karmically speaking (and I'm all about the karma these days, in sort of a quasi-Christian paying-it-forward sort of way, not so much in an Eastern philosophy kind of way -- cultural appropriation at its finest IMHO) we owe it to the guy, for offering more than our asking price and not arguing over details. Really, aside from the delay in closing this has gone off without a hitch.

Delia is so close to crawling. She gets up on all fours and rocks back and forth, and can now get up to all fours from flat on her belly, albeit with no small effort, but she can do it. She also gropes around in the air with whichever arm is free when nursing, leaving itty bitty fingerprints on my glasses. And she's quite the expert at Bellowing For No Apparent Reason, a very important skill for the pre-pubescent set. And the pubescent set for that matter. Oh hell, most of us do it come to think of it.

You know, the painful part of nursing is bad enough, with the sharp little teeth and me all sensitive and everything. But the part that's really a bummer lately is the roving little hands -- patting, fingering, poking, tugging, pushing, snapping my bra strap, dirtying up my glasses, catching my lip, and pinching. For a while, until I could impress upon her how much I did not appreciate it via grabbing her little hand and saying No, she was pinching the back of my arm so hard she left teeny little bruises. And it's not so easy intercepting her hand across my body with my free hand without breaking her free from me which can be painful. So is it any wonder that although I am glad to nurse her and all that ooey gooey motherly stuff, I face each session with a mixture of stoicism and dread? Man, for a while I actively postponed it for as long as possible, when she was puncturing me with her fangs. She still does occasionally but only on one side and in one position -- naturally the easiest one -- so I am reduced to sitting on the couch, which is uncomfortable for me, and nursing her in the football hold on that side. I guess she must have a little burr on her tooth or something?

Well, got to run. Scraping litterboxes, Oh Joy!!!! And then to bed. Mmmm, maybe a quick shower before bed... wash off some of the littery goodness. As a courtesy to J, who as I write this is snoring on the couch, sleeping off her migraine medicine. I tried to get her to just go to bed but no, she preferred to stay on the sofa. It will take me ages to wake her up enough to get her to bed. *sigh.*

Oh, it sucks to be me...

Bearing in mind that this blog is where I blow off steam sometimes -- nothing that you read here should be taken back to the real world except with a 50-lb bag of rock salt -- I must bitch for just a moment about J's mom JoAnne.

Nice woman in so many ways. Thoughtful and kind. Always wants to help. God bless her.

That being said:

OMFG, somebody hold me back before I say something out loud that I may regret.

Moving party Saturday, many fine friends and family set to help us, including J's parents Larry and JoAnne. We intend to load everybody up, schlep the stuff to the new place, and have a big pile of steaming hot pizzas waiting there with a cooler of sodas to wash it all down. Then we unload and bid everyone a fond and grateful farewell as they straggle home to their usual routines. Everyone happy, many hands make light work, full bellies, contentment, hearts and flowers, kittens and puppies, cookies and sunshine. It's all good.

But! Because J's mom is the queen of the enormous crock-pot, we are trying very hard to fend her off with requests that she just bring a nice salad. And maybe some of those breakfast-cereal cookies she makes at the holidays. Really.

She called the other night and offered to bring chili. Okay, I for one do not like chili, I never have, and I don't want to deal with it on moving day. I would be hungry and unhappy. And J can't eat it for digestive reasons. I sat right there and listened to Julianna tell her we were ordering pizzas. Right. There. Just bring a salad how 'bout, Mom?

She calls back yesterday afternoon. J is napping. I am preparing to go shopping while J and D nap. JoAnne tells me she had talked to J who told her she couldn't eat chili, so how about bean soup? I told her, We're having pizza. We're ordering pizzas. Oh, she says. She didn't tell me that.

ARGH!!!!!!!

Yes, I say, we are just going to order a pile of pizzas and have sodas in a cooler and maybe she could bring a salad? Pizza is just so easy, everyone likes it, etc. Well, you still have to have plates and forks and stuff for salad, then, she says.

ARGH!!!!!!!!!

JUST BRING SOME FUCKING SALAD AND MAYBE SOME OF THOSE BREAKFAST-CEREAL COOKIES AND SHUT UP ABOUT THE STUPID CROCK-POT FOR ONCE!!!!

But I said, well, pizza is easy and that's what we are doing and if you want to talk to Julianna about it I can have her call you when she wakes up?

Okay, she says.

So I politely say goodbye and go to the store and nearly get rear-ended by some stupid kids because there is still slush and gravel on the road and they were dogging me all the way down 72nd. Luckily (and I will congratulate myself on this for some time to come) I heard the scrunching of the gravel as they skidded and I rolled the car forward a few extra feet and they would have hit me if I hadn't. I'm bloody brilliant. Thank you, thank you, no really, it was nothing.... :)

Ice Is Nice

We had a teensy little ice storm yesterday. It freezing rained in the morning, started to melt, then re-froze and freezing rained the rest of the day so that this morning everything was covered in ice. As ice storms go it was pretty mild, though, not like the one I remember as a kid where there was an inch or more of ice on everything and trees fell and our power was out for five days straight. No, this was melted enough by 1:30 pm today for me to drive to the store where everyone was stocking up like mad, for the mild 40 degree weather we'll have the rest of the week... People are such morons sometimes. The news programs all had a schmuck on every corner reporting: "Yes, Bob, it's icy here." "And over here too, Bob." See now, if I did the news it would be more like this: "Bob, we have ice on everything and nobody's outside driving around except idiots and they are crashing into each other like nobody's damn business. And they all deserve to be in the ditch. So there. Stay home for one damn day and get over it. Over to you, Bob."

Baby has two new teeth -- upper ones right next to the front teeth -- and is on the verge of crawling. Today as I watched in amazement (and spotted her) she grabbed ahold of the rail on the end of the changing table and pulled herself up to standing! As I was yelling for Julianna to come see, Delia just looked over at me with the most gobstruck look -- gobstricken? -- and then got all excited. So we dropped the crib mattress to the lowest position as she is very tall. Then in the bath she was just a hoot, splashing and cheek-walking over to the drainplug and just having a hell of a good time. What an exceptional baby. :)

Oh Thank You Thank You

Thank you, Oh Lordy, Thank you, for the following things:

Thank you that Shannon's baby Jocelyn Annmarie was born healthy if a bit smallish, and that both mother and baby are doing well. Thank you that Shannon even had time for an epidural which she says is the best thing ever, even though Josie was born a mere three hours after they got to the hospital. Six pounds even, and so inestimably tiny in comparison to the robust Delia... she feels like baby kittens feel when you pick them up, so light and fragile...

Thank you that Julianna's Mother never offered to come stay with us after the baby was born. She tried to "invite" herself over to Shannon's house for TWO WEEKS after Jocelyn was born -- without asking Shannon -- but was talked down and stayed only two days, which were only slightly hellish and are over now. I'm sure Shannon is thanking you also.

Thank you for a healthy baby who becomes more and more social and charming and masterful of her body and surroundings by the day.

Thank you that my biggest real bitch about motherhood right now is that her teeth are hurting me when we nurse.

Thank you that Julianna and I were in agreement that the very sweet and energetic Petey needed to return from whence he came. Life is much simpler with only two dogs who are somewhat mature and don't pee on the rug.

Thank you for pretty much everything.

And thank you for listening. That is all.

This is one of the photos we sent out in our Christmas card. We couldn't get her to smile when we were taking these -- I think the chair spooked her -- so we also sent another we had taken earlier to demonstrate that she is a happy baby! 

Grandpa Larry, Julianna's Dad, made Delia a doll cradle for Christmas. Here 7-month-old Delia models the cradle which is a size or two on the small side... Note that she has her finger in the baby doll's nose... 

Delia update

So she's getting her top front teeth.

May I just say: Ow. Ow, ow, ow.

Those fangs come out pretty sharp, and she gnawed some itty-bitty holes in me. My sister-in-law was very helpful regarding some advice, and now things are tolerable once again, but whoa! Talk about painful.

She sits in the bath now and splashes around which is really fun to watch. Previously she hated the bath, I think it scared her, but didn't mind showering with us.

She recently had her first snotty little head cold, which is nearly gone. Gave her a teensy bit of baby Tylenol the first day that she seemed uncomfortable, what with teething AND snottiness, but other than that have had to do nothing special for her other than extra loves. Not bad for seven months: one clogged tear duct which corrected itself, four teeth which didn't seem too painful coming in, and one very minor snotty head cold. Oh, er, and that tumble off the bed when we were too stupid to realize that flipping over even once means you can't leave them on the bed anymore. *sigh*... there goes Mother of the Year...

Dofletta! and Three Freaking Weeks!!!!!

Firstly, must announce that Julianna's sister is FINALLY having her baby tonight -- in fact it may already be here -- she was three cm dilated and fully effaced two weeks ago, nobody thought that darn baby could hang in there this long, but she did. We got the call about a half hour ago so Julianna hotfooted it over there to Shanny's house to watch Tommy (their 4 1/2 year old son) while Shannon and Jeff go to the hospital. Considering that Julianna's sisters drop babies like cattle (Moooooooooooo!), I wonder if they even made it into the hospital, let alone to the birthing suite...

We are all very excited. Shannon had a lot of trouble conceiving this baby, miscarried at five months, then miscarried at nine weeks right after I almost miscarried at 15 weeks last Thanksgiving (2003). Monday of that week I bled like mad and ended up in an ambulance, then sat alone and crying in the ER til Julianna could find me -- no thanks to 911, who wouldn't tell her where I was even though I gave them express permission and they called her themselves -- but I digress, don't get me started... Anyway after a week of bedrest I was okay and Delia turned out just fine, but two days after that Shannon miscarried, on the day before Thanksgiving. Since I had just been through that experience I knew something of what she must be feeling. Poor Shannon and Jeff. So we've all been holding our collective breath, uttering little prayers here and there along the way, just hoping, and now it's the day!

I can hardly wait to hold the new baby and remember what Delia was like as a newborn. She's so big now, at seven months, so capable, that I can barely recall what a little helpless thing she must have been. Okay, now I must post a photo. Look for one soon. :)


In other news:

GAAAAAAAAAH!

We get our new house in three weeks! Then we have til almost the end of January to complete moving.

I have a connection at the local Safeway so we are accumulating boxes of all types, and have begun packing already. We are hiring the piano moving done to spare the vertebrae and connective tissues of our loved ones... It's worth a hundred and fifty bucks. We will remodel Delia's room before we move so that we won't have to disrupt her any further once we move her into it. Then we will do our room probably this summer, paint and molding. Right now the entire house is white, white, white, like this one was, and the carpet is cream colored. Why do they even make cream colored carpet?! So rich people with no kids or pets can feel effete? Sheez!

Let's see, what else?

Oh, Christmas. It was nice. Bit of a new perspective on it what with being all religious lately, though it seems to be a subject that my mind can only peek at through its fingers thus far. Cautious, ever cautious. But none of that stops us from the traditional celebration of the commercialism that made this country what it is today, i.e. the gifting, cutting down perfectly good tree for temporary living room decor, gorging on rich foods etc. It was a fairly modest Christmas for us and we spent it with our families and aside from some minor Drama and some Tension, supplied mainly by J's eldest sister and mother respectively, we all had a pretty smashing time overall.

New Year's is our anniversary -- we got together around Easter time, moved in by mid July, and had our first commitment ceremony on New Year's Eve 1999. (We got married last March 5th when Multnomah County was issuing licenses to same sex couples but that is held up in court indefinitely, so it would appear.)

Okay, must post photo now, maybe more later? Am too hyper to sleep what with waiting to hear of Dofie's baby. (J and her sister took to calling each other Dofie, meaning "stupid" in German, when they were teens and it remains to this day an endearing sisterly habit. Shannon calls and leaves voice mails that start out "Hey Dofie-Doh!" which I find terrifically amusing and sweet.)

Cat Vomit

Just in case you were all (all one of you, probably) dying to know what the story was on the Mystery of the Barfing Cat, I found a very impressive hairball while cleaning the basement, and have not seen any vomit since.

Mystery solved.

A hundred bucks

Okay, so the inspection was this morning. I herded the dogs out to the Vanagon and deposited baby therein also, after painstakingly removing the clumps of hair left in her carseat by Hope last time the dogs were transported in the Vanagon. Julianna felt it was hilarious to permit Hope to curl up in the carseat (which was empty as I took the baby down to see my sister-in-law and my Mom), where she could perch high enough to see all around and therefore find more things at which to bark.

Next time Julianna feels the urge to permit Hope to do this, she can bloody well go out there and brush all the hair out of the seat herself.

So after several trips to the Vanagon to de-hair the carseat, deposit diaper bag therein to prevent dog from sitting in it, remove fast-food debris, deposit dog blanket, deposit my coat and cellphone etc etc, and finally strap baby in -- really, I felt like a sherpa after about five trips out there -- off we went to Vancouver to camp out at Julianna's sister's house. If you must be away from home with an infant and three unruly, obnoxious, nervous dogs, you must find a place to camp. Shannon's house was empty and she has both a crib and a fenced yard, so there you have it. And our future home lies just across the street! Sadly, Emmy (owner/seller of our future home) was not home so I could not invite myself in to roam around mentally placing furniture here and there at my leisure. Instead, I sat in Shannon's family room and watched a little tv and played with the baby.

I can say this in all honesty -- I rarely watch any tv at all when the baby is awake. Lately I do have music playing, usually Christmas carols (okay, so you now know I'm a total geek and I listen to cheesy holiday programming) but I very, very seldom turn on the tv when she is in the room. The one glaring exception was when I needed to clean like a maniac one day recently, in preparation for selling the house, and I parked her in her Overstimulator 9000 exersaucer and turned on public television. She actually did not seem to pay it that much attention, which made me feel pretty good. She was more interested in trying to strangle the toys on her saucer, or jam them into her eye. Whatever floats your boat I guess.

The stay at Shannon's was uneventful in that I don't think Petey peed on the rug anywhere, and it wasn't until we were crossing the I-205 bridge that I noticed that the gas tank was dangerously empty. Hmph. Guess Julianna forgot to put gas in it, and I forgot to check. We made it on fumes to the station. Then as we were nearly home the buyer's realtor called to let me know they were done and it was safe to come home, and when I asked how it went she said it was all fine and they were quite pleased. Big sigh of relief.

This afternoon our realtor called with the reply to the counter-offer. Merry Christmas to you, she says, you don't know how lucky you are. This does not happen. Usually in the inspection they find, oh, five hundred or a thousand dollars worth of things to fix, minimum. But your buyer? Oh, he wants a hundred bucks to have the carpet professionally cleaned after you leave. And he wants to stipulate that the built-in microwave stays (which we intended to leave anyway). And he wants to move the closing up to January 7th. But you can still rent back to the end of January.

It's tough to be us. Really. :)

Sold!

We sold our house in 36 hours, for 5 grand over the asking price, and the guy didn't care if we took our refrigerator.

I almost feel as if we are taking advantage of his good nature.

But --

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Now we are looking at moving in less than one month!!!!

The inspection of this house is today, and our new house will be inspected on Friday. We had a sweaty moment when we could not reach Emmy (the seller) because she was out of town and didn't give us her cell number. !!! What was she thinking?! Of course, she didn't have any idea that our house would sell so fast. Nobody did, really. Our realtors are all a-tingle. Talk about your easy money!

Must run, have to gather pets and baby and be out of here in less than one hour, and have not showered yet. Evidently I am very ambitious. And have lousy sense of urgency.

Wading through the Crapola

And so it begins... we have to clean up the house spic and span by Monday, as it will be listed then and could potentially be shown. How much fun is it going to be, packing up a six month old infant and three unruly dogs into a Vanagon and driving around aimlessly for however long it takes to show a house?! I'd say we could go shopping or something but I am so not leaving those dogs in that car for even five minutes alone. Petey already chewed the corner of my glider ottoman... I'd hate for that Vanagon to make it through twenty years and six kids with pristine upholstery, only to have an eight month old pug shred it in twenty minutes. And there's also no way I can control three unmannerly, energetic dogs by myself with the baby. And I don't know anyone else who's home during the day. So we will pack it up and go for a drive...

Speaking of the baby, she is upstairs refusing to nap. You can tell by her plaintive sobs that she is indeed exhausted, yet she will not close her tiny eyes for even a minute. Grr. She went to bed too early last night due to a refusal to nap yesterday, and was up early, and now is overtired, and so the cycle continues. However, Mama is not playing along and is thus far resisting the urge to go upstairs and rescue her from the mean old crib. This is because Mama knows that if she does, the baby will only be horribly cranky for the rest of the day and again go to bed too early.

That being said, Mama will now commence with the fruitless shifting of boxes back and forth in the basement in an attempt to make some sense of all this crap. Whose idea was it to obtain all these things?! And why must we dress it up to look pretty? So that unsuspecting rubes will purchase our house thinking that it is larger and tidier than it is, fooled by our feng shui placement of cardboard boxes of junk, that's why...

Sadness, and Gratitude (warning: sadness and gratitude within, and some hard stuff)

Saw a thing on my isp homepage today about a woman who murdered her 10 month old. They think she's mentally ill (ya think?!). The thought of anyone killing a baby makes me feel physically sick. I won't talk about how she did it because that just makes it worse. This poor woman, her poor baby. Poor everybody.

Then read a thing in mamacate's blog (which I would link if I knew how but I'm sort of lazy and pressed for time, but I promise to figure it out soon) saying to read this essay a friend wrote on parenting a child with CP. And as much as I totally appreciate everything she said about how perfect her boy is, and totally agree (and he is a total cutie to boot), that doesn't stop me from feeling huge great gushes of gratitude that Delia is not affected by something like CP. Who knows what the future holds for her, anything can happen, but she was born in a great hurry and appeared into the world physically perfect and with no problems aside from one tear duct that was a little cloggy for a while. Which resolved itself within a couple of months. Oh, and a real dislike for sleep, which we still argue over but generally speaking have under control. Sort of.

I know that if she did have some issue, some challenge, some disability or other-ness or whatever a good way of putting it is, I would appreciate her for just exactly who she is in all ways just as I do now. But I can't help but be glad that she doesn't have to face bigger challenges than most people do, for now.

That being said, I must give an update: she had her six month appt on Friday. She is healthy as a horse. Fifteen pounds one ounce, 27 inches long: that is, 90th percentile for height, but 25th for weight! She's a total stringbean. She has a new tooth coming in -- upper left front tooth -- to add to her lower ones which came in at 3 1/2 months. She sits unassisted -- that is, if you sit her up she stays that way for a while -- but does not crawl as of yet. She "motates."

And she sleeps through the night to about 4am, give or take, then nurses and goes back to bed until between 6 and 7am.

And I am filled with gratitude.

One last thing and then I head up to bed: Why do we clean up our houses and yards the best they have ever looked when we go to sell them?! It has never looked this good in all the time we lived here! Why are we moving again?!