The Queen's Rambles

*Elsa is better! I hate taking my kids to the doctor. Hate it. Nothing is ever wrong. I’m glad nothing is ever wrong and I’m very, very, very, very happy Elsa doesn’t have to be cath’d, but I’m mad at myself for taking her and wasting all that time. I should have waited another day. How long do you wait with a fever that has no other symptoms? I waited three days.

*I can’t remember how we kept Erik out of the garbage. Our lid latch thing is broken so perhaps we just need a new lid. I don’t know. Elsa won’t eat real food, but I caught her happily snacking on onion skins from the garbage. Dandy.

*I went out and got a bunch of childproofing stuff, but can’t figure out how to keep the oven door closed. She pulled it open the other day. Very, very scary. She’s a lot bigger and taller than Erik, which makes things a little different. Also, Erik was repelled by heat and she seeks it out. The boy still takes a cold shower and it drives me nuts. Still eats frozen meatballs and chicken nuggets. Still likes to be naked because clothes are too hot. Strange little Viking boy. I put him in Elsa’s bath after she was done the other night and he started screaming bloody murder because it was burning him. It was barely luke warm.

*I put a hold on our MOMS Club book club book so one of these years I need to get to the library. The last time I was there I had a crazy thing happen. I always use the self-check machine because I hate waiting in line. I forgot to push “end session” as I was bagging up my books. I heard the machine beep again and turned around to see a lady checking out books. I saw “16 items” so knew there was no way she’d done 16 items. It takes forever because the scanner can be persnickety.

I nicely told her I forgot to push end session and I thought she was checking out books on my account.

She completely ignored me.

I told her again, and pointed out that it said “17 items” as she scanned in her next book and asked if she had really scanned in that many. She told me she was using her own card and it was fine.

Well.

There are times to walk away, and there are times you have to be confrontational. There’s simply no way you can let a stranger check out books on your card. I wouldn’t even let a friend do that (unless it was a house guest and I could keep track of the books).

I told her we needed to check and pushed the end session button myself and it started printing, but she grabbed it and ripped it off before it could finish, jamming the printer.

I was getting angry and a little bit nervous at this point, so I went over and found a librarian and told him what was going on. The lady still refused to acknowledge anything was happening. She got out her card and went to the other machine and started checking out books.

The librarian printed out my list of books and sure enough, two of her books were on the end of my order. I pointed it out and she STILL refused to acknowledge that she had them. The librarian looked through my books, then asked her to look through her books. I guess she was scared of him because she consented. The two books were buried deep down at the bottom. I don’t know if she was just confused, being a jerk, or trying to steal them. Anyway, the librarian took them off my account and all is well. But isn’t that just beyond weird?

*Also weird: my e-mail address apparently has two passwords at Amazon. How is that even possible? We’ve been waiting and waiting for an order and decided to track it. We couldn’t find the e-mail anywhere. We couldn’t find the order on any of our accounts. I knew the order hadn’t been canceled because we’d already received part of it. I finally thought to use all my passwords when logging in, and sure enough. Bam! Two of my passwords work. Looking at the order history, I use both of them equally. I don’t understand.

*One of the books on the order was a Cooking Light cookbook. Thank you Bethany for recommending them! I made a dish from it tonight and it was the first good meal I’ve had since starting the low cholesterol diet (stuffed bell peppers). Someone at work commented that Mike looks like he’s losing weight. I want to cry. He doesn’t have any weight to lose. Maybe if I just ate what he ate I would lose weight. You think? But you know what? I LIKE eating. I guess I like good food better than I like the idea of being skinny. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I read a really good post yesterday about how our society is turning disordered eating into the norm. It made me feel better about myself, at least for awhile.

*Gotta take Erik to bed. Someone please grant me the serenity to tell him a Batman story without crying. Better yet, someone give me some ideas for Batman villains. He doesn’t like me to read books–I have to make up the stories myself and these Batman stories are killing me.

We’ve had a totally insane day. We decided yesterday that we were going to have a good weekend, despite all signs pointing toward total chaos.

Deciding is a great thing, but it doesn’t do a thing for you when circumstances start spiraling out of control.

Elsa still had a fever this morning. I actually took her temp and it was 101.7. Not a tiny little fever to sneeze at after three days of this, but nothing too scary either.

We got in with the doctor and she confirmed that we did the right thing by bringing her in. I am pretty much anti-sick child visits because the only thing they ever say is “it’s a virus, nothing we can do.” Obviously, I am not truly anti-sick child visit. I just don’t find it productive unless the kid is really, really sick or has something like hives (or who knows what, but random ickiness doesn’t seem to require a sick visit).

After an exam, the doctor was left as clueless as me. She has no symptoms other than the fever and she can’t talk yet so there’s just no way to know.

That’s how I left the doctor’s office with a bag taped to my baby’s crotch.

I’d always wondered how they collected urine samples for babies.

Anyway, as soon as the bag had a certain amount of liquid, we transferred it into a sterile cup and took it to the hospital lab. we were told we would just drop it off, but after my last horrible experience at the lab I didn’t quite believe it would be that simple. But we had the specimen! And the orders! Surely it should be simple.

This was happening at noon, so I should have been smart and brought snacks. Instead, our big plan was to go out to lunch after we dropped the specimen at the lab.

The volunteers at the information desk no nothing. They sent me straight up to the lab. Guess what? We had to register. This is a painfully slow process that makes me want to scratch someone’s eyes out.

An hour later and we were on our way. We were all starving and snapping at each other. Erik had a birthday party at 3 so we were feeling a bit of a time crunch. I did have the foresight to bring the gift and a cape, but he really wanted to wear his Indiana Jones costume (it was a costume party) and was not happy that we might not have time to get to it.

We ate at an Italian place called Mama Lucia. Apparently one of Mike’s super picky co-workers says this is one of the only acceptable eating establishments in the DC metro area. The man clearly has something wrong with his taste buds because it was the most disgusting meal I’ve ever eaten. I felt like the recruits from Worst Cooks in America had prepared the meal and I was supposed to judge them. I had plenty of comments from the salad dressing to the marinara. The chicken was overcooked, the sauce was a broth, the marinara was greasy. Ewwww. It was inedible. I pushed my plate aside and when the waiter asked I told him I couldn’t eat it, it was so bad. I know I’m a big complainer on here, but I’m not a big complainer in person (unless you’re my husband or my mother). I’ve never complained about a meal before. I’m glad I did, though, because they took it off the bill. Mike said his meal was fine, but we won’t be adding Mama Lucia’s to our rotation.

Also, the restaurant was not crowded, but they sat us right behind a group of 15 old people having some kind of party. They were LOUD and I was cranky and hungry. It was very cramped and just not a pleasant environment at all.

Luckily we had just enough time to get home, get Erik into his Indiana Jones costume and get him to the party. We were only a few minutes late. It was a drop-off party, so I had an hour to myself! Except for the sick baby, of course.

The lab was supposed to call the doctor with the results, but they never did. Eventually I called the doctor to remind her (she asked me to do so) and she found out they hadn’t processed the sample yet. Once they looked at it they decided the results were inconclusive. If positive, we were supposed to go to the ER to get a cath and some antibiotics. Why the cath? I don’t know.

Our current status is hurry up and wait. If the fever gets above 103 we’re supposed to go to the ER and get her cath’d. I guess taping a bag to your crotch doesn’t give a very clean sample.

If it doesn’t spike to 103, we’re supposed to hold tight until Monday. Hopefully it is just a virus that will pass, but if not they will cath her at the office on Monday. Please, please, please hope for a passing virus. And please don’t tell me you’ll pray for her. I know you mean well, but I find it irritating since I don’t believe in God and if I did I think he should be helping people who are a lot worse off than a feverish first world baby. I sent out my MOMS Club newsletter with a lot less content as usual, with an explanation that I just didn’t have time to do more because of Elsa. A lot of the ladies e-mailed back that they were praying for her. I appreciate it. I do. I understand that’s their thing and they really think it will help. It still rubs me the wrong way. I would never tell them that, of course. They are just being nice. Maybe some day I will share my religious beliefs with them, but it is not on my short term agenda.

And that’s that. My laptop is about out of battery.

Mike is home today! Let’s celebrate! How? By sleeping.

Poor, poor Elsa. I think her fever must be caused by something other than teething. When I am able to get meds down her throat she does ok, but then it comes back again six hours later and she’s clingy and lethargic. If she is not better by tomorrow morning I’m calling the doctor. I know they’ll ask what her actual temp is. Ugh. I hate taking a baby’s temp. Those ear things sound like a great idea, but don’t give anything near an accurate reading. The doctor’s act like you’re stupid when you say you can just feel the fever, but duh. You CAN! Every single time I’ve thought my kid had a fever and I took a reading it really was a fever.

I have her meds at 2:30 am, which was a mistake (not really, she needed them). The howling and yowling resulted in a very awake baby, then twenty minutes later the meds resulted in a very happy baby and she was ready to party all night. We finally went back to bed at 6:30.

You can imagine how fun and happy I am today.

I may not be fun and happy, but I finally did a fun and happy thing that made Erik light up like a souped up Christmas tree. You know he loves math? You know he is constantly quizzing me with math problems. I should have taught him to write down big math problems a long time ago, but. . well. . I just haven’t. He’s usually quizzing me in the car or when I have Elsa or something. Today? I had no patience, so showed him how to write down the problem then add it up.

You’d think I’d just sat him in front of the gates to Disneyland and gave him an all-access pass.

He took right to it and now he is off adding away, leaving me out of it. I hope it is as easy to teach him to carry as it was to teach him to add it up, otherwise I may regret this.

What else?

Opinions!

I very, very stupidly signed up to bring in plain heart-shaped cookies for the Valentine’s party. Stupid! I hate making roll out cookies. I don’t have a heart shaped cookie cutter. Stupid! I don’t even have a good roll out cookie recipe. Why would I sign up?

I bought some heart shaped cupcake pans yesterday and am thinking I’ll bake little brownies in them and take those in. They will be sturdy enough to hold up to the kids frosting them after I remove them from the pan. Do you think that’s an ok plan? It didn’t say they had to be sugar cookies. Brownies are a type of cookie, right?

Why didn’t I sign up to bring the frosting?

Also, at karate the kids were handed a stack of “Valentines” to give to their friends. It’s basically an advertisement/coupon that says Happy Valentines and has a place for the kids to write To and From.

Erik wants to give them out to his friends. I find them tacky, esp because if someone signs up and uses our name we get $75. So do I ditch them and hope Erik forgets about them (about 50/50 chance of that) or go ahead and let him give them out in addition to more traditional Valentines that Erik is already planning on making (green hearts with light sabers. Very romantic). The coupon is nothing to sneeze at–a free month of classes which is about $100. Is it tacky as hell to send them along (my inclination) or nice to give people such a great coupon?

I didn’t know it was possible for a person to be this tired. You guys should see me right now. I look like some kind of horror show freak with bags the size of Texas under my eyes, clothes covered in goop, and a little purple bow halfway hanging out of my hair (courtesy of Erik. I should remove it). I smell like infant Advil. I have it all over. I need a shower.

Poor, poor Elsa. I guess she is teething. She started being extra clingy and whiny yesterday afternoon and ended up with a fever. I know they say teething causing fevers is just an old wives tale, but in my limited mothering experience it seems to be true. She’s feverish, drooling, chewing, and I can see a bit of a tooth popping through.

She cried and cried and CRIED yesterday. I had to hold her constantly. Luckily I have some baby wearing devices, but 25 pounds of baby is still heavy on my bad back.

Erik is a very sweet boy. He tries very hard to help.

It is NOT helpful to have a kid trying to cry louder than the baby. I guess he thinks it will distract her? I don’t know, but it’s a good thing I managed 20 minutes at the gym yesterday and a full lunch so I was less grouchy than usual. I gritted my teeth and tried hard to be nice to him even though I was ready to go nuts and start screaming. I was able to keep telling myself “I am a dignified and graceful mother. I want to create the kind of home I would have liked to live in as a child.”

I think the food piece is key. I have been so grouchy with our low fat diet. I don’t like the food (I just recieved two cookbooks so hopefully that will change soon) so I avoid eating it. Then I’m hungry and fill up on junk. Junk makes me grouchy and isn’t very filling. So I’m hungry and filled with sugar and even more grouchy.

Who knew healthy food could have such a negative impact?

I made a damn good tortilla soup yesterday. Seriously, people, this soup is so so so so good and so simple. I don’t really have a recipe so shouldn’t even mention it.

Back to being tired. Ugh. I’m tired. Full stop.

Mike has been in AZ since Monday. He got home at midnight last night, talked to me long enough to let me know the business trip hadn’t been as good as it should of been and he has a lot of damage control to do today. He was gone before we got up this morning and is not expecting to get home early. His original plan was to take Friday off, but now it looks like that’s not going to happen.

The only positive here is that Erik had carpool and lunch bunch today, which meant I have over 3 hours without him! I love him and love having him with me, but no when I am tired and grouchy. He’s just a happy go-lucky kid and doesn’t understand why mommy doesn’t want to hear his non-stop stream of chatter and noise.

Ok, I better go take a shower while I have the chance. I’ve been putting Elsa in the shower with me, which works, but which is also a major PITA. Maybe I’ll look less like an old, haggard drug addict and more like an old, nice mommy if I get a shower.

I’m so sleepy. I shouldn’t be. Elsa didn’t keep me up all night. Maybe I’m sleepy because I slept more like a normal person? I don’t know. You don’t care. Is there an entry in all this? Not really.

I had a lovely, relaxing day. Erik only had school one day this week thanks to snow days, which means my nerves have been on edge for daaaaaays. Thursday was the worst since there was no break at all Wednesday; just stress stress stress as I waited for Mike to get home. I don’t know how much of this was covered nationally, but the roads were the biggest mess ever. Mike left work at 4:30 pm and got home at 1 am. He ended up going back to work, hanging out at the office, then trying to get home again at midnight. The storm started with freezing hail, so there was a slick layer of ice, then the snow was coming down so fast there was no way for plows to get to it. People started abandoning their cars right in middle of the road (where did the people go???? I don’t understand!) so even if you weren’t afraid of driving, it was difficult to get through. At one point Mike thought he was going to have to get out and walk. I was not pleased with that idea. What if someone slid into him and killed him? He didn’t even have boots on! Luckily that didn’t happen and he survived, but I was a pretty cranky mommy the next day.

It was so nice to have the day almost all to myself! Erik’s little friend, Irish Lad, has a birthday tomorrow and wanted to hang out with Erik at the Maryland Science Center in lieu of a party. Irish Lad is much more like me–he doesn’t want a big party and doesn’t really understand the point of having a bunch of people around. So Erik, Irish Lad and the dads went off and left the moms and girl babies at home. I was going to go hang out with the mom, but then Elsa slept way longer than usual so I was late to the after-party (pizza and cake when they got home).

Instead of answering a million math questions, trying to explain evolution, doing laundry, assuring Erik that his artwork is wonderful, keeping track of gloves, fending off cupcake requests, doing laundry, offering healthy snacks, trying to guess the word Erik is spelling, telling Erik how to spell dinosaur names that I don’t even know, doing laundry, wondering why no one seems to notice Dino Dan is mentally ill, sweeping up the floor and doing laundry Elsa and I had a girls’ day out. I packed up some frozen peas and a placemat, stuck Elsa in the car and went to a restaurant. She is such a delight. I never would have done that with Erik because listening to a screaming baby is the opposite of delightful. Elsa is quiet as a little mouse as long as you keep something interesting on her plate. I gave the guys a great big tip because every single pea ended up on the floor, but it was well worth it to go out and feel human.

We even went to Target. And I kept to my “buy nothing in January” goal, except for a few essentials. Baby proofing stuff had to be bought, but what can you do about that? Not like it was an impulse purchase. Only one impulse purchase made it to the cart (a squirrel proof bird feeder) but I abandoned somewhere in the lamp aisle. I know, I know. Evil. Before I had kids I would never abandon things in a random place. I would dutifully return everything to it’s proper home. If you would have seen my sleepy, sleepy baby that just needed to get the heck out of the store you would have forgiven me. I think. Hope.

We got home and that poor sleepy baby slept on top of me for three hours, just long enough for me to watch one of the worst movies I’ve seen in years: 2012. Did it even have a plot? I kept waiting for something to happen. A movie about the end of the world should be somewhat exciting. A movie with John Cusack should be somewhat exciting. But no. It was blah. Boring and blah.

Elsa nursed almost the entire movie. She has upper teeth now and nursing is painful. I am almost certain I’m not going to nurse her as long as I nursed Erik. I’m already ready to quit, but I’ll hold on until she’s a year. My mom keeps asking when I’m going to quit, but I see no reason at all to switch her to formula. I’m cheap! I have a plentiful supply of free milk. Why in the bleepity-bleep would I switch her to something I have to pay for? My nipples might thank me, though.

You know why I nursed Erik until he was almost three? Because every time my mom would ask when I was going to quit nursing him, I dug my heels in and said “never!” I purposely waited to wean him until after a trip out to see her just to irritate her.

I can be contrary.

Seriously, though. She started dissing the whole nursing thing before he was even born, then kept harping on about it from day 1. I took great joy in nursing in front of her because I could see the steam coming out of her ears.

She’s been a lot calmer with Elsa, which means I’ve been a lot calmer. And Elsa is a lot calmer. There’s a lot less stress in general. This time I’m not going to keep nursing my child just to piss off my mother. If the girl doesn’t learn to keep her top teeth off my nipple she’s going to be in for a sad surprise on April 14th.

Ok, so I’m just kidding about that, mostly. I wouldn’t know how to wean a baby cold turkey. Do you give them cows milk? Or what? Erik would never take cows milk (still won’t), so the whole weaning thing confuses me. I know it’s a few months away but I can’t even imagine her being ready to get most of her nutrition from something other than milk.

Poor Elsa woke up screaming at 2 am. Or more accurately, she woke me up with her screaming. She screamed and screamed for hours (or maybe it was only fifteen minutes) and she never woke up. I could tell her tummy was bothering her because of the way she was drawing up her legs, but I just assumed it was gas and tried to help her the best I could.

I never turned on a light because, hello, 2 am. No lights necessary.

When she woke up this morning (much too early thanks to a brother who refuses to understand the request to be quiet and thinks it is a game to see how quiet he can be and still wake up the baby) her left eye was almost swollen shut and that whole side of her face was blotchy.

It was also a snow day, which meant I wasn’t quite up to driving all over town unless it was a true emergency.

The most worrisome thing?

Her night diaper was totally dry. Bone dry. Completely dry.

Usually she has all three soakers soaked and a little wetness on her jammies.

She nursed and nursed and nursed and by noon her eye and face was back to normal.

So no more apricots for now. I hope that solves the problem. To be honest, though, it could have been anything. My dear, sweet first child was not “allowed” to eat off the floor and was often rescued from crumbs and the like.

I do rescue Elsa from crumbs, but with a five year old in the house it is just impossible to keep up any standard of cleanliness at all. I know she’s ok with chocolate chips, pecans, stink bugs, candy wrappers, leaves, dirt clods and potato chips.

Poor, poor second child.

By the time she woke up from her nap, the snow was melted, Erik was bouncing off the walls and I was ready to get the heck out of dodge.

I should have checked the weather forecast first.

We went to the mall and had a big moon bounce party place to ourselves. I was surprised since the roads were clear and there was no school.

Then we went back outside.

I didn’t know there was a second part of the storm coming and we walked right into it. Erik started freaking out from the hail “We have to escape! It’s raining icicles! What are we going to do? Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!”

By the time we got home I was sliding all over the road, but I was more worried about the other cars sliding all over the road. Mama needs to learn to check the weather forecast.

I think it is snowed about five inches in three hours, but maybe I’m exaggerating. I just hope we aren’t in for another snowed in week like we had last year. I also hope Mike gets home soon!

Since it was obvious we were snowed in and Erik jonsing for something to do, I finally let him make red velvet cupcakes. As I suspected, they turned out bland and boring. Also, I am not keen on any of us eating that much food coloring.

Remember when I was laughing at my friend, Annica, because she didn’t understand why I would want to put food coloring in my frosting and I thought she was so boring because who WOULDN’T want blue frosting?

Yeah.

Now I have kids and I am not freaked out by food coloring in a way that makes me crazy, but I don’t think we need to add food coloring when it is not necessary. To have a cake flavor that is basically a food coloring? Ewwww.

So I was helping him with his cupcakes and they were very red. I suddenly realized I should go check the mail before the weather was any worse, so I ran out there and bumped into my new neighbor that I’ve talked to once or twice.

She couldn’t quit staring at me, so I tried to make small talk but her face looked horrified. I was a little put out because I know I’m not a beauty queen and I have a big pimple, but sheesh! People don’t usually run screaming from me.

When I came in the house I looked in the mirror.

I looked like a living, breathing murder victim. I somehow had gotten the bright red batter all over my neck and it looked like someone had slit my throat.

Poor, poor neighbor. She’s going to think she moved into a doozy of a neighborhood.

I assume we aren’t going to have school tomorrow. What are we going to do?

I went to Chuck E. Cheese for the first time ever. Erik was so excited that he was running in the parking lot, yelling “YAHOOOOOO!!!!”. He had fun, but not as much fun as he imagined. He wasn’t very good at getting tickets or playing the games. It was not nearly as gross and dirty as I imagined. I always hear people talk about how disgusting it is, but I thought it was quite clean and well kept. They must have a good manager.

I would even consider doing a birthday party there, except the big rodent in a costume FREAKED Erik out. Nothing ever scares him, but he was sitting on my lap, whimpering, when the mouse was out. I think he’s more interested in a more active party anyway.

I just found out that I sort of went to college and sort of know, but only by name, a New York Times bestselling author. Aren’t you impressed? Mike wasn’t. “So. . . did you ever even talk to this person?” Ummm. No. But I recognize the name! Isn’t that enough?

The book is called Heaven is for Real if you’re interested in that type of book. Basically this guy’s four year old son died on the operating table. When they brought the boy back to life he had a big story to tell about going to heaven. Being the skeptical atheist that I am, I’m not particularly interested even if I am willing to tell you that I sort-of-but-not-really-at-all know a bestselling author. I only know about the book because I know the little boy’s aunt and she is posting about it on Facebook a lot. Heck, I’d be posting about it too if I was related to a New York Times bestseller. Can I say that enough? Why do I like those words? Because I wish I was a New York Times bestseller? Maybe I will be one day. I think that requires me to actually write something, though, so the dream is probably dead.

My newest crazy project? I think I am going to do what I said I would never, ever, ever do and sew a diaper. I bought all this PUL for a project and now that project is dead so I need to do something useful with it. I just have to wait until Feb so I can buy some microfleece and elastic. I’ve been looking at patterns and reading directions and it doesn’t sound as hard as I thought it would be.

I had someone desperate to buy these crappy GoodMama One diapers that I posted about and guess what? She dropped off the face of the earth without a simple “never mind.” Grrrr. I have two other people interested, which I’ve communicated to her, but still she refuses to pick up the keyboard and say “no thanks.” I hate to be a rude biddy, but I finally sent her a message with a deadline. I need to get these diapers out of here. I was worried that maybe she didn’t have access to her computer or something, but then I realized her profile on FB is public and she is just not responding to me so I don’t feel nearly as bitchy about giving her the deadline.

Is it time for my nap yet? I had a sneezing fit in middle of our 4 am nursing session and it woke Elsa up. Bah. Then I finally got her back to sleep, only to realize she had a poopy diaper at 6 in the freakin’ morning. Why, baby? Why you do that to mommy? Mike offered to let me sleep in late, but I had so much to do that I couldn’t even take him up on the offer.

Does someone want to come here and start an afternoon summer camp no more than ten minutes from my house? I’m starting to get a little depressed thinking about this summer. I love Erik. Love, love, love him. He’s funny, smart, charming and all around 94% perfect. But he’s social. He needs activities. Activities that I am not in charge of. But having him somewhere, often somewhere way far away that involves rush hour traffic, at 9 am? Why would we put ourselves through that? He is often not even out of bed until 9:30. I know this will all come to a crashing halt in late August when he starts kindergarten, but why borrow trouble before then? If it was just him, I could get a move on a little earlier, but Elsa is also a late riser and the thought of having both of them and myself ready to be out the door by 8:45 (or earlier depending on the camp we choose) makes me want to claw my eyes out.

I must do some more searching around, I guess. So far I’ve just looked at camps put on by our county rec department. There are some generic ones pretty close by, but all the cool themed camps are so far away that they aren’t really in the realm of possibility. It would be good to save money anyway, right? It’s not like I would be sending him to camp every single week. Last year he just went for four weeks. He said it was the most fun he’d ever had in his life, which is one reason I want to send him again. I want him to have fun. Non-Mom provided fun.

Oh well. We need to pinch our pennies so we can go to Vancouver this summer.

What else?

TV! I watch a lot of TV while Elsa is nursing. Outsourced is probably my favorite comedy right now, though I didn’t care for the movie it is based on. My favorite new show of the season, Terriers, was already canceled. I just started watching Detroit 1-8-7 and the last episode was so good it gave me shivers. Then I found out they are likely canceling it and probably won’t even be airing the conclusion to the last episode. Bah. This is why I stick with shows I don’t care about: Top Chef and so forth. Anyone watch America’s Next Top Baker or whatever it was called? The one with Buddy the cake boss? I watched Top Chef: Just Desserts this summer so was expecting work on par with that. The poor bakers they got for this show? Oh my. They are sad. So, so sad.

I really wanted to like Hawaii Five-Oh but it puts me to sleep. I tried watching the US version of Being Human and don’t understand what they did to it. Did they try to make it with US characters but make it exactly like the British version? It even seems to be set in Britain. What’s the point? It was so terrible I couldn’t make it past the 30 minute mark.

At least Fringe is back! But they moved it to Fridays, which is the kiss of death I’m told. Booo! And White Collar is back! My DVR messed it up, but I found it OnDemand so I could be happy.

Have I really resorted to listing all my shows? I’m sad. I should be taking pictures of my kids and posting them. I think Elsa may have strawberry-blonde hair. Or maybe it is all the pink reflecting off her clothes.

Speaking of clothes, I think I may try to get together a lot to take to the Tot Swap. Basically you register and tag your clothes with prices you set, then drop them off at a big weekend event. I’ve never done it before, but I have so many barely worn things that are just dying for a new home that maybe it would be worth it. I no longer use our consignment shop b/c they are a total rip-off and I don’t like the people running it.

Update 1: Erik is not moldy. I know I kind of left that hanging, but then I forgot all about it. I seriously thought he had some kind of fungal growth, but it washed right off in the shower. I think it was droplets of honey with shirt lint ground in. He was wearing a blue-gray shirt that day, so it makes sense. I’m very glad he doesn’t have some sort of skin disorder.

Update 2: Low-cholesterol cooking still sucks. Mike picked out a few things in the cookbook (I am in dire need of a new cookbook) and I couldn’t even eat the last thing I cooked–a tomato-potato-tarragon-orange soup. I am not a great potato cook and I think they were over-boiled, thus creating a nasty, pasty texture in my mouth. What potatoes are good for soups?

Update 3: I wouldn’t say I had a lot of angst about Elsa’s swallowing, but it was on my mind. And now? She swallows. No more worries! Except she now has the stomach flu and it would have been much, much better for the clean-up if she wasn’t eating anything solid. My tummy is feeling a bit wobbly today, too. I am hoping the weekend isn’t spent praying to the porcelain gods. Erik is supposed to go to his first ever Chuck E. Cheese party tomorrow and I don’t want him to miss it even though I don’t want him to go. I realize that doesn’t make sense. I know he is going to have an insane amount of fun, but I don’t want him to know that such fun places exist because he will harass me endlessly.

Update 4: After going to all the trouble (a one minute phone call) to set up a haircut appointment, I walked in and discovered I’d been booked with the wrong stylist. Everyone was very apologetic and they all offered to rebook me with my stylist, but I took the risk and went with the gal I was booked with.

Why?

WHY?

Why do I do stupid things?

I haven’t had a haircut this bad in years. YEARS.

And I’ve had some pretty bad haircuts.

I shouldn’t make any judgments since Aunt Flo is visiting and that bitch makes me hate myself, but really? I don’t understand what she did to me.

Also, spending that much time looking in the mirror was depressing. My face has fallen. How do I lift it up? I want to go to my derm’s office and tell them to fix me but I wouldn’t even know where to start.

Good things! Let’s think about good things!

I opened the mailbox yesterday and saw a fat package. I quickly did a run down in my head, but KNEW I hadn’t ordered anything. Of course, the last time I knew that I opened up a package and found sweater socks. Neat idea, but did not work at all as promised.

Anyway, Jenn recently cleaned out her sewing room and had sent me two fabrics that I LOVE! They scream my name (those who know me can guess the color. I don’t even have to say it, do I?). That was such a nice pick me up.

It’s amazing how few packages we get when I am not constantly tempted by the deal-a-day websites. All those great deals break my bank.

Ok, I see a whiny baby who really needs some meds to bring down her fever. I don’t want to be puked on. Poor, poor baby.

*My son takes after his father. He looooves me. Loves loves loves me. So much he must leeeeeaaaaan on me. Constantly, constantly lean on me. Mike generally does this when he is bored out of his gourd in a store. Erik just does it. I’m glad he loves me. I hope he continues to love me. Does he really have to be in constant physical contact?

I should put a positive spin on it. In the past year I have taught him two things that are absolutes. He can’t blow in my face and he can’t touch my head. He hasn’t blown in my face in a very long time. Progress!

*There is no school today because the roads are an icy mess. Normally I kind of laugh at the crazy over-reaction people in this area have to snow, but today’s closures were warranted. It wasn’t snow. It was a mix of rain, freezing rain, snow, and freezing fog. All that means a total mess on the roads. Mike even went in to work late.

Certain neighbors started pick-axing the road around 5 am. I’m exhausted. The pick-axing has continued all the live-long-day and my head is about to explode. If I take any more Advil I’ll probably give Elsa that disease babies get if they have too much Advil. Is that even a thing? Or am I misremembering my soap opera ailments? I think Kendall, Erika Cain’s daughter, had it when she was a little kid. I probably shouldn’t base any sort of medical decision based on a soap opera that I saw when I was a kid.

*We decided to get out of the house yesterday and were all sniping at each other in the car when we realized. Duh! We’re all grouchy because we forgot lunch. We were headed to a specific retail location that didn’t have much in the way of eateries so ended up at a Chinese restaurant. I have never been a huge Chinese fan, though the two times I’ve had good Chinese food I’ve loved it. I’ve had Chinese from several area take-out restaurants and it has all been disgusting. Basically all they do is fry up tiny pieces of chicken, then coat it in overly sweet sauce and call it good. Greasy, grody, not even recognizable as food.

This place had promise because it looked a lot fresher, so we gave it a shot.

Guess what!

It was good! And cheap!

Mike and I both enjoyed our meal enough to add it to the “we’ll be coming back” list, which is amazing considering my dislike of the genre.

Is it a genre if it’s food?

They also serve sushi and some guy tried to give Elsa a piece because she needed to acclimate her palette early. Ummmm. NO! You are not going to give my baby a piece of raw fish! You don’t know me. You don’t know my baby. Just no!

*Speaking of her eating, she’s doing it now! She even swallowed some non-puree stuff! She had real turds. Not that exciting, actually, but I learned that diaper liners really are as awesome as people say. The turd gets caught in the liner so you just flip it into the toilet and call it done.

Now, I know a lot of people who use disposables just turned up there nose, but you know what? Even if you use disposables you’re supposed to be flushing the poop down the toilet. It says so on the diaper package. I know, I know. “But no one really does that!”

Guess what? I really did that. Really, really. I didn’t even know that I was supposed to be doing that, but I knew that there was no way I was keeping turds around in my house (even in a garbage bag) when I could flush them down the toilet.

*Speaking of diapers, and the sewing of them. Ugh. I was dumb. I thought it would be great to make Elsa a naked mat to air out her little butt, so I bought some PUL (a type of waterproof fabric) and had great plans for a pretty pink fairy doll mat. It never got made. She is on the verge of walking. It would be useless to make her something like that now. So now what? I guess either sell the fabric on e-bay or try to make some diapers for her. Maybe I should hang on to it and try to make training pants in a couple of years?

*My mother is crazy. She called yesterday, so excited I thought she was going to enter orbit. She found a job for Mike in my hometown! Whoo-hoo! The job, as expected, is nothing he could do or that he knows anything about. He just knows enough to know there is no way he could do it. But she doesn’t care! It sounds smart and fancy so he should apply for it! Then we’d all move to Klamath Falls, I’d start teaching again and she’d babysit our kids all day and we’d all hold hands and sniff tulips and sing Kumbayah.

This is never going to happen. Never never never. It will be dire straights indeed if we ever find ourselves moving to Klamath Falls. I would love to be closer to family, but that’s way too close. My mom currently worries about us being murdered in our beds by terrorists or other unsavories. If we lived in KF I would be worried about being murdered, robbed or assaulted by my brother-in-law, my sister, or some of my sister’s hoodlum friends. They think Mike and I are rich so we clearly have money to spare and are mean because we won’t supply them with everything their hearts desire. We are absolutely not rich, but Mike goes to work every day whether he wants to or not. Our needs are met. We are comfortable. We won’t be comfortable if we give all our money to people who feel like they are so super-special that they don’t need to work.

Though Maryland is not a place I ever thought I would end up, it is actually a really great place to raise kids. There’s lots of money for educations, lots of services and activities, all kinds of great parks and programs, and lots of diversity. Of course things could go wrong, but there’s no need to borrow trouble. There’s nothing in Klamath Falls but over-crowded, impoverished public schools. The one private school is pretty nice if you don’t mind your kid going to a very Christian school and I do very much mind that. Imagine, if you would, that your only two choices were an impoverished public school or a private school that espoused a belief system that you didn’t believe in any way, shape or form. There’s always home schooling, but have you met Erik? He is not a kid who should be home schooled if there are other options.

Here, he will be slightly above the pack, but find school challenging. There? He would be way, way beyond anything the teachers could handle. He comes from a home with two educated parents who take an interest in his learning. I am always shocked, SHOCKED, when I go back and my niece and nephew can’t do some of the simple things that Erik has been doing for years. And they are both intelligent and at the top of their class. If they lived with parents who gave two flying figs they would be able to do just as much as Erik can do.

All that to say. . . no. We wont’ be moving back to KF. I would be more than willing to move to Oregon, say Eugene or Portland or . . well. . .lots of places. But not KF. Too much baggage. Being raised with a grandma right down the road would be awesome, but in this case I don’t think the advantages would outweigh the disadvantages. Now that Erik is old enough to understand things I really don’t want him exposed to the lifestyle my family chooses to lead.

*Last bullet: olive oil! I’ve been cooking out of a low-fat, low-cholesterol book. Thanks to some of your guidance, I’ve discovered I don’t have to give up olive oil! This makes all the difference. I won’t have to totally ditch all my dishes and will be able to adapt recipes we know and love into something Mike can eat. Five meals of low-fat and I was ready to cry. There was no flavor. Even though the recipes often called for a medley of spices, they still didn’t taste like anything. Why bother to cook if you aren’t even going to enjoy the fruits of your labor? If anyone has any other ideas I’m all ears. As Bethany mentioned, I could use a backseat cook. That’s one area where I’m open for any and all advice you’re willing to give me.

Other good things: cocoa meringue cookies! Very low-fat, and very tasty.

I’ve been so excited about my Gymbucks shopping extravaganza! I thought it was just like Kohl’s cash and that I would have an almost embarrassing amount of free money to spend at my leisure.

Uhhhhh.

I guess I didn’t read the fine print.

It is not free money. It is in no way like Kohl’s Cash. It is basically a very limited 50% off coupon. I about cried when I found out. I was in line, all happy because I had used my calculator and had it planned down to the penny. Then the lady told me how it worked and I was gobsmacked. I suppose it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it didn’t fit with my plans and I was not prepared to have my plans totally blown in such a public and demoralizing way.

(Side bar: There was a little girl of about 2 running all over the store. Her name was Elsa. I looked up the stats for the name and it is not on the move upwards (way down in the 600s), but I seem to keep finding them anyway.)

Did I turn everything back in and tell them to go sock it to some other fool?

No. I dropped a chunk of change, just as they knew I would. I wanted to walk away, but I couldn’t. I love their clothes. It’s not the designs, though they are cute. I love the quality. She currently have four Gymboree shirts and they are just about the only thing I dress her in anymore. Everything else is fairly new, but it all looks like it’s been washed a million times or has stains up the wazoo. One of her white Gymboree shirts was literally covered in carrot puree. I soaked it in oxyclean and you can’t even tell. Looks brand new.

Thus my Gymboree love.

I am totally over my Hanna Anderson love, btw. The pajamas are still awesome, but overpriced. The other stuff? Not so much. For the price, I expect them to stay nice for a long time, but one of Erik’s shirts sprung a hole, another is stained up and Elsa’s little jacket has a broken zipper. For the price I paid, that’s just not acceptable. And it’s not like I bought a whole boatload of clothes there. I think I’ve bought four things, other than pajamas.

Anyway, Elsa has a good start on her spring wardrobe. I am not going to be tempted to buy a bunch of junky stuff at Kohl’s just because it is super cheap.

I didn’t get a haircut today either. I decided to be smart about it and make an appointment with the person I really wanted to cut my hair instead of taking my chances. I’m 36 years old. You’d think I would do this every single time, but no. I am a digital person and when I want my hair cut I want it cut NOW! But I’m going to be a good girl and wait until Thursday. I am not going to touch my bangs with the scissors. I’m not. I’m not. If I say it enough times maybe it will be true.

Someone asked about the chiro. I stopped going because he declared me healed, though I don’t feel healed. The massages felt good and I think the adjustments were good for me, but it was not the miracle cure I was looking for.

Someone else asked what low cholesterol food Erik really enjoyed that took me forever to prep. Spinach-Cheese Strudel. Ugh. So gross. I’m shocked Erik liked it.

My first problem was that I had no idea I was supposed to take the phyllo dough out of the freezer two hours prior to use. I read the directions about two minutes before I wanted to start cooking. I let it sit out a bit, then tried unrolling it and made a gigantic mess.

Then I was supposed to do a light egg white wash on every other layer, which was fine, I guess, except Erik helped me and it was not exactly “light.” The over use of egg white gave the whole thing a really disgusting texture that I couldn’t really get past.

It sounded good, in theory. Wilted spinach and sauteed green onions, with a bit of feta cheese and a drizzle of honey, rolled up in the phyllo. I was not a fan, but I don’t really like cooked spinach. Erik said it was one of the best things he ever ate.

Last but not least, Elsa is standing on her own! She can do it for about five seconds so she has a ways to go, but it’s progress. She’ll probably be walking before her first birthday. With a new skill, comes a great lack of sleep. She was up every single hour last night. Every single hour. I’m not even exaggerating. Went to bed at 11, was up at 12, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7. She finally woke up for good at 8 and Mike let me get a couple hours of sleep. I hope she doesn’t do that again. At least Mike has tomorrow off.