The Queen's Rambles

My mom’s going back to Oregon tomorrow, so we’re all pretty sad. She’s going to miss the kids, the kids are going to miss her. I’m going to miss her. It’s nice to have someone around to help around the house and provide adult conversation. I guess a lot of people would go insane if their mom was at their house for five weeks, but she’s really well behaved when she’s here. She respects our parenting choices, even if she doesn’t always agree with them. She learned the hard way that we won’t put up with crap and we’re going to do things our way regardless of her thoughts on the subject. She doesn’t love that I’m nursing Elsa, but she hasn’t made any of the remarks that she used to make when I was nursing Erik.

Plus, she’s scared of Mike. It’s pretty hilarious. He’s the most un-scary person ever, but she gets freaked out if he talks to her about any concerns or chores that need to be done. I guess she’s only used to yelling and screaming so she doesn’t know how to handle a person who can communicate effectively without resorting to violence.

In other news, I finally have a big chunk of background stress well on it’s way to being resolved. I put up a website for my MOMS Club chapter several months ago and it was hacked by evil malware people. I cleaned it up, threw on a WordPress installation, posted the bare minimum and ignored it. A blog was really not the best format for our needs. Last night I was looking it over and figured out how to create pages. That’s exactly what I needed, so now I am able to create the kind of site I need to create. Whoo-hoo! And I actually have time and energy to do so because my new VP is willing to take on some of the more pressing projects that have been filling up my head space.

Next topic:

I am so happy our November weather has been better than our October weather. We’ve been able to play outside without coats! In general this area is hell in the summer, but has really decent fall, winter and spring weather. I’ll take three great seasons for one hell season.

Unfortunately, that has not been the case this year, so it is nice to finally get some non-rainy, non-buggy outdoor time. The only problem is we can’t decide if we need the heat or A/C switched on. First world problems, eh?

We never had A/C or central heat growing up. I am so glad we don’t have to go out and chop wood every weekend and build a fire every morning. Fire building sucks big time. When I was in junior high and high school I would often be the one building the fire in the morning, or at least the one stoking it up. Not fun. I bet my clothes always smelled like smoke. They were also covered in black dog hair all the time. No wonder I didn’t have any friends.

Anyone who pines for life in the old days must be crazy. When was toilet paper invented? I know my grandma had to use an outhouse when she was a kid. Not sure about the TP situation. A corn cob can’t be that effective, can it? I think if I lived in the old days I would want to die young. My butt would always itch, my teeth would constantly hurt, I’d be popping out babies left and right and wouldn’t even be able to hope that they made it past age 5. Life would suck.

I’m right cheery tonight, aren’t I?

Truly, I am cheery! I am glad I never had to live through all that.

I seriously need to get back to the gym. I went twice this week, but need to get back into the six times a week habit. I need the endorphins. When I get those exercise endorphins life is a lot easier to manage. Plus, it would be nice if I could shrink this belly a little. I was always very motivated to go when Erik was little because I needed that hour and a half of cheap babysitting. I don’t have that motivation now. Elsa is such an easy baby, even if she is turning into a little bully.

Hmmmm. Maybe I better get her in there every day so they can train her to behave. The childcare at my gym is excellent and I credit them with teaching Erik the basics of getting along with other kids.

The kids both had well child visits this week. The doctor told me that when Elsa hits, bites or pinches I should just firmly tell her no and she’d stop.

I had to pick myself up off the floor after having a laugh attack.

If we tell her no, she looks at us, throws her head back and starts laughing. Then she might lunge in for another bite.

I suppose I should post the well child numbers for my own memory. Erik was 49 lbs, 46 inches. He surprised everyone. He’s always been in the 5th percentile for height, but he suddenly shot up to the 60th percentile. I thought he was getting awfully tall! This summer I was worried that they would get on me about his weight because he was starting to look a little husky. Even when he didn’t look husky, they would always chew my ass about his weight. I guess growing 2 inches in 2 weeks sucks that fat right out of your belly. His BMI was the lowest it’s ever been and the doctor was quite pleased.

Why can’t I grow 2 inches in 2 weeks? I think I would probably need to grow at least a foot to get my BMI to an acceptable range.

Elsa is chunkier than ever. She was 30.9 lbs, 32.5 inches. At one point she had dropped down to the 95th percentile in weight, but she’s back off the charts. Way, way off the charts. I know three year olds who are smaller than she is (granted, they are super tiny for their age). I am still not worried about it because my niece and nephew were both total chunks and now they are super skinny. They are still built solid, but you can count their ribs.

I have Elsa back in cloth diapers most of the time. I moved up to the size large fuzzibunz. She doesn’t like any of the one size diapers, and I don’t blame her. They don’t really fit around her legs. So much for the “birth through potty training” promise. My mom claimed she was going to potty train her. I scoffed, but bought some training pants. My mom arrived, put her in the training pants and told her to use the potty. When Elsa didn’t get it, my mom gave up. I am still laughing.

Is that enough rambling for one night? I do know how to jump from topic to topic without a transition, don’t I? Not that it takes skill, exactly. One might argue a more skilled person would at least attempt to tie things together.