The spiders, oh my goodness. There was one on my SHAMPOO BOTTLE yesterday; she was just loitering there, enjoying the steam, or laying her eggs or something. I use two different shampoos because my hair is nuts, and I thank my lucky stars I was using my other shampoo that day. But still. I was done washing my hair, and I leaned over to get something else, when I saw it lurking. I swear those conniving harridans have daily meetings on How to Terrorize Naomi Today.
She met an unpleasant end. It involved hot water and Scrubbing Bubbles and a plugged drain, just in case she came back to life in the drain trap under the tub. They do that. No, I'm not kidding, and be careful all you people like me who can't even stand to look at pictures of spiders.
Today I went shopping with The Child, but as I was walking out to the car I looked down and I saw I was wearing my brownish canvas slip-on shoes. With a black shirt and grey and black polka-dotted socks. Baby drool all down my front and lifeless hair are more than enough I've Given Up on Life for me in one outfit, so I had to go back in. As I was unlocking my door, something brushed against my face. I've been working on Not Freaking Out over Every Little Thing, so I made myself not freak out. Because for every time I actually do have a spider web in my face, there are a frillion instances when it's just a piece of my own lifeless hair.
So I ignored it.
And then something floated down directly in front of my face. And dangled there. First, I Freaked Out. Then I got mean and went stomping after the thing, and when she kept darting into cracks at just the right moment, I yelled, "Die! Why won't you die! Die!" several times. And then she ran out of cracks to hide in, and she, too, met an unpleasant end on the bottom of my ugly shoe.
I'm sure the neighbors are thrilled about the crazy woman in the green house. Maybe this is why the teenager across the street lets her friends honk their horns instead of using the doorbell and plays her music so loud the bass causes our brains to liquefy and slams her truck door over and over and over and over again.
Carter's was having a sale today. Only instead of saying, "Clothing Sale!" everything said, "Baby Sale!" This cracked me up, but I'm not sure if it's because I'm way more tired than I realize or if it's because it was actually funny.
The Child officially crawls. She'd done it before, but it was just one step and then flat on her face. Yesterday and the day before, she crawled across the living room several times. It's very cute, but I probably would have been okay if she hadn't done that for another twelve months.
We bought some bottled water the other day. Great Value® water. We bought it because we're totally awesome parents and still haven't had our water tested, and Grace is now drinking a little bit of water, and I am using some in her food, and I want to make sure she doesn't grow an extra eye or start speaking only pig Latin just because I had to be a hippie and make her baby food with my tainted water.
So. Bottled water. When one buys something that says, "purified drinking water" on the front, you pretty much expect filtered tap water, which is fine. Well, in teeny little print, half of it obscured by a picture of a refreshing splash of water, it also says, "With flavor enhancing minerals." Those would be magnesium sulfate, potassium bicarbonate and potassium chloride, none of which are harmful to babies, but I'm still annoyed. Why would a store brand put additives in something that is supposed to be bland anyway? If I'm looking to buy flavored water, I'll buy flavored water. If I'm looking to buy water, I'll buy whatever is cheapest. I don't know many people who look for bottled water and say, "By golly, this potassium chloride is simply delicious! I must have it!" Dear Great Value®, you probably could have made your water even cheaper by just leaving it alone. Idiots.
Have you people seen this JuPoThiMo business? What did I tell you? August will be AugMyHeMo, for, "Augh, my head (please stop this nonsense)."
The Child is currently lurching about the floor and has somehow managed to gather all her noisy toys together. They are all going off at once, and she is very confused. I feel you, kid.
She is still sleeping like it's 2008. Now, I realize that, compared to a lot of people, I have nothing to complain about. But based on what I'm accustomed to, this broken sleep and early waking is making life difficult. I'm not yet to the point where I'm irritable and sad all the time. But I find myself gazing dumbly into space even more than is normal for me.
Earlier today, I went to mix up some coffee for myself (my second or third cup, so there's really no excuse). I put my sugar in before pouring my coffee, then went to do something else. I came back, expecting to drink my coffee, and was completely stymied by the blank white bottom of my mug. I must have stared into it for at least a minute.
My conversation of late has also been punctuated with a lot of "Uh," "Buh," "Guh," "Duh," "Boy I'm articulate!" and "Oh, you know what I'm trying to say!"
I talked to my sister about the sleeping issues last night. Her advice, if nothing else works, is to take up drinking. "That way you'll forget all the bad stuff, and you'll have pleasant memories of your kid." And people wonder where I get my twisted sense of humor.
So I'm off to booze it up.
Showing posts with label spiders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spiders. Show all posts
Friday, June 5, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Pie would have been nice
The Child. Can crawl. Mostly, it's still the zombie flop, but she crawled yesterday. Twice. She also tried climbing the bookshelf and fell sideways on her head. One of the funniest things I've seen all week. She fell over, paused, went, "EH! EH! WAAH!" and then zombie flopped over to something shiny.
This crawling is something of a problem. She often wedges herself into corner of her crib, but if I give her a couple minutes, she'll fall back asleep. This morning at 6:30, she started screaming. This is normal. She usually stops in about five seconds. Today she didn't stop. So I went in there to find her on all fours, face pressed against the foot of her crib, unable to back up or roll over without smacking her head on something.
I moved her, and she fell asleep right away, but woke up again five minutes later. And proceeded to go in and out of sleep every 15 until just after 8:00. It was so much fun. Also, her sleep-deprived grouchiness was a real trip all morning. We had such a blast, screaming, crying, clawing my face.
Short of velcroing her flat on her back, I don't really know what to do about it. Do babies eventually learn not to sleep crawl? Please tell me they do.
It's June bug season (June bugs always come in May; why are they called "June bugs"?). Every night, they buzz the window screens behind the couch. I feel them crawling on my neck, crunching under my shoes. There's a dead one in our mailbox, and I can't get it out because I'm a nancy. So it just sits there, taunting me, every time I get the mail. The first time I ever cheered a spider was the other day, when I saw a giant June bug dangling in a web. I may have done a gleeful fist-pump or seven.
On Wednesday I spent all day weeding the raspberry patch. It was completely choked with dandelions and some kind of viny violet-type plant. And bumblebees and, in my head, hordes of spiders. It was five hours of adrenaline surges, with me dancing across the yard, batting at my body and yelping every ten minutes. If the neighbors didn't think I was crazy after this incident, they certainly do now.
So, I spent five hours stooped over and pulling weeds, and by the end of the day I could hardly walk. Every muscle on the backside of my body, from top to bottom, was soup. Thursday was even worse; muscles were not just weak and shaky, but also very, very angry. Friday was a little better. But the aches weren't gone until Monday. I tend to get overzealous when I start a project. I couldn't have just weeded an hour every day for five days. No, it had to be every free minute of an entire afternoon. The same thing happens with housework.
I found only one spider in all that time. But it was a pretty horrible spider. It was hiding down near the ground, in the base of a dandelion plant that I'd ripped up. I didn't see much, just a shiny bumblebee-like body, but that was enough. The thing was enormous, for around here. The body was the size of a large marble. I think it was a garden spider.
I had a big stick. For a minute, I screamed and jumped and pounded my stick into the ground. Like an excited cavewoman. This, I think, is why the neighbors don't bring pie.
I'm starving, and all this talk of bugs and spiders has me a little leery of the couch I'm sitting on. So I should get off it.
This crawling is something of a problem. She often wedges herself into corner of her crib, but if I give her a couple minutes, she'll fall back asleep. This morning at 6:30, she started screaming. This is normal. She usually stops in about five seconds. Today she didn't stop. So I went in there to find her on all fours, face pressed against the foot of her crib, unable to back up or roll over without smacking her head on something.
I moved her, and she fell asleep right away, but woke up again five minutes later. And proceeded to go in and out of sleep every 15 until just after 8:00. It was so much fun. Also, her sleep-deprived grouchiness was a real trip all morning. We had such a blast, screaming, crying, clawing my face.
Short of velcroing her flat on her back, I don't really know what to do about it. Do babies eventually learn not to sleep crawl? Please tell me they do.
It's June bug season (June bugs always come in May; why are they called "June bugs"?). Every night, they buzz the window screens behind the couch. I feel them crawling on my neck, crunching under my shoes. There's a dead one in our mailbox, and I can't get it out because I'm a nancy. So it just sits there, taunting me, every time I get the mail. The first time I ever cheered a spider was the other day, when I saw a giant June bug dangling in a web. I may have done a gleeful fist-pump or seven.
On Wednesday I spent all day weeding the raspberry patch. It was completely choked with dandelions and some kind of viny violet-type plant. And bumblebees and, in my head, hordes of spiders. It was five hours of adrenaline surges, with me dancing across the yard, batting at my body and yelping every ten minutes. If the neighbors didn't think I was crazy after this incident, they certainly do now.
So, I spent five hours stooped over and pulling weeds, and by the end of the day I could hardly walk. Every muscle on the backside of my body, from top to bottom, was soup. Thursday was even worse; muscles were not just weak and shaky, but also very, very angry. Friday was a little better. But the aches weren't gone until Monday. I tend to get overzealous when I start a project. I couldn't have just weeded an hour every day for five days. No, it had to be every free minute of an entire afternoon. The same thing happens with housework.
I found only one spider in all that time. But it was a pretty horrible spider. It was hiding down near the ground, in the base of a dandelion plant that I'd ripped up. I didn't see much, just a shiny bumblebee-like body, but that was enough. The thing was enormous, for around here. The body was the size of a large marble. I think it was a garden spider.
I had a big stick. For a minute, I screamed and jumped and pounded my stick into the ground. Like an excited cavewoman. This, I think, is why the neighbors don't bring pie.
I'm starving, and all this talk of bugs and spiders has me a little leery of the couch I'm sitting on. So I should get off it.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Spiderrific!
There are worse things in this life than a really bad diaper rash, but to a baby that's about as bad as it gets. And she'll let you know aaaall about it. And then when you're letting her air out on the living room floor for the day, she will vehemently express her displeasure in ways that make you very glad you put that blanket down underneath her.
That's all I'll say about that.
I felt so bad for her the last three days. It seems she got a little dehydrated Monday. I have no idea how. It wasn't hot, and she never goes hungry or thirsty. Maybe a little bug?
Anyway, that started a really fun chain of events for us both. The last two days I've been feeding her every two hours and have done away with solid foods for now. I think she's back to normal, if still a little rashy. She is now terrified of diaper changes.
This evening when I fed her at 7, she fell fast asleep in my arms for the first time in weeks. I spent fifteen minutes in frozen silence, staring at her, not wanting to wake her up. She jolted awake on her own, though. She's hilarious when she does this. She looks around the room in terror, the way you might if you woke up one night on the floor of a pub full of hungry redneck vampires.
CFF brought by more Buffy and Angel when she came the other day. I'm already on season six of Buffy. It's a sickness, I tell you.
The thing is, TV is really nice with a baby, especially when the baby is not feeling well, and you can turn on the subtitles. My brain may be rotting, but that's okay; once it rots enough, I'll barely even feel it anymore.
Since the weather's gotten warmer, the spiders have been gallivanting about this place like they own it. I got news for them. People live here now. People with fly swatters and piercing wails. And flesh-eating cleaning chemicals. Did I mention piercing wails? That's the one James is most fond of.
So, spiders everywhere. And now I'm seeing them even when they're not there. I hope it's not the beginning of a rapidly-spiraling descent into madness culminating in my attempted cleansing of the baby by flinging her on the lawn and hosing her down with the garden hose. I'm not even sure we own a garden hose, and if we do, it's probably been sitting in our shed (only slightly less terrifying than the Pit of Despair) for the last two years, collecting hairy wolf spiders that make Rubeus Hagrid look like a bald little baby.
Also, centipedes. I've seen two now. One was in my laundry. I almost burned the lot of it, right there on the bathroom floor.
The Child has been thisclose to crawling for about a month. She gets up on all fours and rocks. She even does this funky zombie-crawl: on all fours, she plants both hands way out in front of her and drags her lower body forward until she has too much weight out front, then flops on her face, then gets on all fours again and repeats the process (all with a pacifier in hand or mouth, which she never sucks on anymore but chews like it's a big old ball of tobacco).
She does a lot of face planting these days. The good news is that she hardly even blinks an eye anymore if she bops her head on something. The bad news is that she keeps getting carpet burn on her forehead. It looks like we bathe her with sandpaper and acid, but we don't, I swear! In fact, we use ridiculously overpriced Burt's Bees stuff because the smell is so intoxicating, they must grind up a unicorn and mix it in with every batch.
Also, she has all these toys, right? And I pile them in the middle of the floor. But what does she gravitate toward? The coffee table with poky metal feet and my dirty shoes that I never wear with socks and stink to high heaven.
Because of the pacifier obsession, I ordered one of these. $8.00 seems a little high, but this pacifier clip actually stays on without endangering small digits and/or lips, it works with any pacifier (even the Soothie or other smallish toys), and it's handmade and so cute. Hopefully there will be more in stock soon.
That's all I'll say about that.
I felt so bad for her the last three days. It seems she got a little dehydrated Monday. I have no idea how. It wasn't hot, and she never goes hungry or thirsty. Maybe a little bug?
Anyway, that started a really fun chain of events for us both. The last two days I've been feeding her every two hours and have done away with solid foods for now. I think she's back to normal, if still a little rashy. She is now terrified of diaper changes.
This evening when I fed her at 7, she fell fast asleep in my arms for the first time in weeks. I spent fifteen minutes in frozen silence, staring at her, not wanting to wake her up. She jolted awake on her own, though. She's hilarious when she does this. She looks around the room in terror, the way you might if you woke up one night on the floor of a pub full of hungry redneck vampires.
CFF brought by more Buffy and Angel when she came the other day. I'm already on season six of Buffy. It's a sickness, I tell you.
The thing is, TV is really nice with a baby, especially when the baby is not feeling well, and you can turn on the subtitles. My brain may be rotting, but that's okay; once it rots enough, I'll barely even feel it anymore.
Since the weather's gotten warmer, the spiders have been gallivanting about this place like they own it. I got news for them. People live here now. People with fly swatters and piercing wails. And flesh-eating cleaning chemicals. Did I mention piercing wails? That's the one James is most fond of.
So, spiders everywhere. And now I'm seeing them even when they're not there. I hope it's not the beginning of a rapidly-spiraling descent into madness culminating in my attempted cleansing of the baby by flinging her on the lawn and hosing her down with the garden hose. I'm not even sure we own a garden hose, and if we do, it's probably been sitting in our shed (only slightly less terrifying than the Pit of Despair) for the last two years, collecting hairy wolf spiders that make Rubeus Hagrid look like a bald little baby.
Also, centipedes. I've seen two now. One was in my laundry. I almost burned the lot of it, right there on the bathroom floor.
The Child has been thisclose to crawling for about a month. She gets up on all fours and rocks. She even does this funky zombie-crawl: on all fours, she plants both hands way out in front of her and drags her lower body forward until she has too much weight out front, then flops on her face, then gets on all fours again and repeats the process (all with a pacifier in hand or mouth, which she never sucks on anymore but chews like it's a big old ball of tobacco).
She does a lot of face planting these days. The good news is that she hardly even blinks an eye anymore if she bops her head on something. The bad news is that she keeps getting carpet burn on her forehead. It looks like we bathe her with sandpaper and acid, but we don't, I swear! In fact, we use ridiculously overpriced Burt's Bees stuff because the smell is so intoxicating, they must grind up a unicorn and mix it in with every batch.
Also, she has all these toys, right? And I pile them in the middle of the floor. But what does she gravitate toward? The coffee table with poky metal feet and my dirty shoes that I never wear with socks and stink to high heaven.
Because of the pacifier obsession, I ordered one of these. $8.00 seems a little high, but this pacifier clip actually stays on without endangering small digits and/or lips, it works with any pacifier (even the Soothie or other smallish toys), and it's handmade and so cute. Hopefully there will be more in stock soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)