Do you ever wonder what happened to colicky children born into forest-dwelling tribes (or any groups that lived out in the open with little protection)? Not to be morbid or anything, but how did they not get eaten by bears? This question plagues me far more than it really should. I wonder about it daily.
That last bit had nothing to do with my kids, by the way. They have been unusually pleasant for several weeks. I have to wonder if they're lulling me into a false sense of peace. When my motherly benevolence peaks, they will once again tag team me with simultaneous horribly needy phases.
It is finally summer here. Utah is GLORIOUS this time of year. I can't imagine why we didn't move here, oh, fifteen years ago. Why doesn't everyone in the US live here? Is there something I'm missing?
I thought the honeymoon glow would wear off after we'd been here a few months, but I'm just loving this place more and more every day. At its worst, it's like Wisconsin, only slightly warmer (and without the depressing knowledge that that first drift of snow on the front walk will STILL BE THERE next May). At its best, it is paradise.
My only complaint is that we live right next to a marsh. It makes for a great view, what with all the pelicans and cormorants, avocets and blackbirds (all lumped into one category by 2.0: DOOOOGKS!, roughly translated as "ducks!"), but it also means there's a big bug population. They aren't horrible bugs. Mostly just hordes of mosquito-looking things that don't bite.
But you know what eats bugs? THE SPIDER.
Yes, the joke is on us. Half my excitement over moving here was the knowledge that I would be moving from a bug-infested town in the middle of two rivers and a marsh to a dry, bug-barren desert with fewer spiders. Hahahah! Funniest joke ever. If huddling in a corner and chewing one's hair can be called "funny."
Also! We have new upstairs neighbors. And I want to kill them.
I think it's actually the woman I want to kill. The man has been very apologetic about the music volume the first night he was here. And since that first night, there has been no nighttime bass throbbing through the walls and into my rapidly-liquefying brain.
But in the morning and afternoon, SOMEONE likes to party like it's 8th grade rec night. And I know it's not him because he works nights. So it must be the woman ("the girl who lives with me," as he put it, whatever that means). I can't decide if I want to make friends with her and reach a happy agreement on what does and does not constitute reasonable noise, or if I want to go up there with a heavy blunt object and commit a felony. It really depends on the day and how much wine is available.
We have friends coming over this evening, so I suppose I should continue getting things ready for that. Have I mentioned how much love living here? How I love having friends nearby? How inviting people over doesn't feel like an imposition ("Hi! Come drive 45 minutes each way to spend time sitting in our living room with my husband and two small children while I sequester myself in the kitchen down the hallway, and we all sweat to death in air-conditioning-free house in the most humid northern state in the union!")?
I miss our old friends very, very much, but coming here has been like coming out of a thick fog. I am so grateful.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Company picnic
Wow. It has been a while. Oops.
The Child is fine. The antibiotics didn't do any of the nasty things to her that antibiotics usually do, and she was feeling almost 100% the next day. Whew.
We just got back from Jeremy's company picnic. There were probably 500 people there. The food was amazing, but it was hot, and long, and not all that suited for small children. The prize drawing lasted until after the kids' bedtime. If we'd been smart, I'd have thought to take the kids home myself around 7:30. I didn't think of it until 8:05, five minutes before they finished.
We had a good reason to hang around, though! There were a giant flat panel TV and an iPad as some of the top prizes, along with a few other nice things.
We did not win a thing.
But the kids passed out within minutes of going to bed, despite a solid five of those being filled with some of the more determined screaming I've ever heard.
I was going to write more, but I'm so tired it just wasn't interesting at all. Company picnics, while still fun, become much more draining with two small children who hate crowds. They did pretty well, but I had to alternate taking them out and walking them around, and the eating area was on top of a huge hill, so there was a lot more exercise involved than you might think. That and the SUN being a thousand degrees hotter here. I can't believe that STILL surprises me. Hopefully it will sink in before I turn 40. Also, kids like to walk downhill, but not uphill. And both of them have gotten even more enormous since they decided to start eating actual food again.
So. I'm leaving you with a super lame entry, and I am going to play Zelda until my brain falls out.
Goodnight.
The Child is fine. The antibiotics didn't do any of the nasty things to her that antibiotics usually do, and she was feeling almost 100% the next day. Whew.
We just got back from Jeremy's company picnic. There were probably 500 people there. The food was amazing, but it was hot, and long, and not all that suited for small children. The prize drawing lasted until after the kids' bedtime. If we'd been smart, I'd have thought to take the kids home myself around 7:30. I didn't think of it until 8:05, five minutes before they finished.
We had a good reason to hang around, though! There were a giant flat panel TV and an iPad as some of the top prizes, along with a few other nice things.
We did not win a thing.
But the kids passed out within minutes of going to bed, despite a solid five of those being filled with some of the more determined screaming I've ever heard.
I was going to write more, but I'm so tired it just wasn't interesting at all. Company picnics, while still fun, become much more draining with two small children who hate crowds. They did pretty well, but I had to alternate taking them out and walking them around, and the eating area was on top of a huge hill, so there was a lot more exercise involved than you might think. That and the SUN being a thousand degrees hotter here. I can't believe that STILL surprises me. Hopefully it will sink in before I turn 40. Also, kids like to walk downhill, but not uphill. And both of them have gotten even more enormous since they decided to start eating actual food again.
So. I'm leaving you with a super lame entry, and I am going to play Zelda until my brain falls out.
Goodnight.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sick child, costly super powers, and The Moral of the Story
The Child has an infection of some sort. 105.3 fever a couple of nights ago, and I almost panicked myself to death. I did have the presence of mind to call the doctor before calling 911, and they told me to bring her in the next morning, and only to worry if it climbed to 106. So we loaded her up with ibuprofen and Tylenol, she slept like a rock all night, and was much better in the morning (though still very hot).
I took her in, chatted with her on the way about how the doctor would have to look in her eyes and ears and mouth, and listen to her chest and back, but that he was her friend, and he was trying to figure out what was making her sick. On the way in, she was chattering away at me, and said, "We're going to the doctor to get sick!" No amount of correction would dispel that notion. Sigh.
She was her usual shy self at first, but the first nurse to wave at her, she turned the charm on. I wish I could make nurses and doctors and other highly educated people fawn over me just by touching my hairdo and declaring, "This is Naomi's pigtail!"
She is most likely fine, though we have to wait on some cultures to be sure. They put her on antibiotics, which is super awesome because she refuses yogurt. Sometimes she'll drink it in smoothie form, if we're lucky. So, I have to get to the store sometime today to pick up some probiotics. Yaay.
Jeremy and I have recently been thinking of awesome superpowers at a price. Like, if you had Fire Hands, but you had to scream constantly whenever your turned your power on.
We play too many video games, I think.
Also, Little Golden Books. I like them because they don't usually have A Message. They're just cute little stories. But I like to give them A Message. For instance, The Poky Little Puppy.
Synopsis:
Five puppies keep digging under the fence and are gone all day, exploring and doing little puppy things. They keep getting home in time for supper, but their mother sends them straight to bed because they dug a hole under the fence. The Poky Little Puppy is a dawdler, so he gets home after everyone is asleep and eats up all the dessert. The third time this happens, his brothers fill up the hole under the fence instead of just going to bed, and their mother rewards them by giving them the dessert. The Poky Little Puppy has to squeeze in through a slat in the fence, and goes to bed with nothing to eat.
Moral of the story:
If you break the rules, more often than not, you'll get a family-sized portion of dessert.
Or The Shy Little Kitten. Synopsis:
A shy little kitten wanders off by herself her first day out of the barn, meets new people, and eventually wanders back to the farmyard, where her mother gives her a bath, and they all go on a picnic.
Moral of the story:
If you wander away from your house, be sure to talk to strangers, go on long walks until you get lost, but be home in time to get a bath and some delicious food.
Also, I would like to know what the parents are doing in these stories. If my kids were consistently destroying property, I'd probably do more than just withhold supper, you know?
I took her in, chatted with her on the way about how the doctor would have to look in her eyes and ears and mouth, and listen to her chest and back, but that he was her friend, and he was trying to figure out what was making her sick. On the way in, she was chattering away at me, and said, "We're going to the doctor to get sick!" No amount of correction would dispel that notion. Sigh.
She was her usual shy self at first, but the first nurse to wave at her, she turned the charm on. I wish I could make nurses and doctors and other highly educated people fawn over me just by touching my hairdo and declaring, "This is Naomi's pigtail!"
She is most likely fine, though we have to wait on some cultures to be sure. They put her on antibiotics, which is super awesome because she refuses yogurt. Sometimes she'll drink it in smoothie form, if we're lucky. So, I have to get to the store sometime today to pick up some probiotics. Yaay.
Jeremy and I have recently been thinking of awesome superpowers at a price. Like, if you had Fire Hands, but you had to scream constantly whenever your turned your power on.
We play too many video games, I think.
Also, Little Golden Books. I like them because they don't usually have A Message. They're just cute little stories. But I like to give them A Message. For instance, The Poky Little Puppy.
Synopsis:
Five puppies keep digging under the fence and are gone all day, exploring and doing little puppy things. They keep getting home in time for supper, but their mother sends them straight to bed because they dug a hole under the fence. The Poky Little Puppy is a dawdler, so he gets home after everyone is asleep and eats up all the dessert. The third time this happens, his brothers fill up the hole under the fence instead of just going to bed, and their mother rewards them by giving them the dessert. The Poky Little Puppy has to squeeze in through a slat in the fence, and goes to bed with nothing to eat.
Moral of the story:
If you break the rules, more often than not, you'll get a family-sized portion of dessert.
Or The Shy Little Kitten. Synopsis:
A shy little kitten wanders off by herself her first day out of the barn, meets new people, and eventually wanders back to the farmyard, where her mother gives her a bath, and they all go on a picnic.
Moral of the story:
If you wander away from your house, be sure to talk to strangers, go on long walks until you get lost, but be home in time to get a bath and some delicious food.
Also, I would like to know what the parents are doing in these stories. If my kids were consistently destroying property, I'd probably do more than just withhold supper, you know?
Friday, May 13, 2011
I am so glad I did not wear shorts
(I wrote this yesterday, but then Blogger exploded)
Let's talk about how dumb I am. Yaaay! Our favorite topic!
Apparently, being closer to the sun means you burn more easily. Who would have thought?? Genius.
See, in Wisconsin, I can spend almost an entire day outside and not even tan. When we went to the zoo a couple of weeks ago (a few hours of alternating sun and shade), I came home, lounged around during the girls' nap, and this BURN appeared on my shoulders two hours later.
First, I would like to know what's with the delay in sunburns. Since when does a burn take TWO HOURS to appear?
Second, ow.
Third, duh.
Moving on.
Today we went to a park and walked around a lake. It's a newish park, so all the trees are little babies, and there is no shade. None. We live in a desert. Of course there aren't any trees just springing up for the fun of it in the middle of the valley. I'm not Jonah, for crying out loud.
For some reason, I just assumed that this time, it would be different. Like, the laws of physics and biology in Utah would have changed (OF COURSE!) for my white Wisconsin-raised self.
I came home after this two-hour walk outside. Next to a lake. In blazing sun. With no trees. Did I mention no trees? I did not see a sunburn when I arrive home twenty minutes later. I didn't even see one an hour later after the girls went to bed.
Two hours later, a brilliant cherry red blossomed all over my shoulders, arms, and face. I look like I just got done with a REALLY intense workout. Or maybe I chewed up an habañero pepper, and then took it out of my mouth and rubbed it all over my body. Or maybe I took a nap in the oven.
So you can all laugh. And I will stock up on lightweight cotton long-sleeved shirts. And scarves. And long gaucho pants.
Incidentally, did you ever wonder how Prince Feisal and all the other black-clothing-wearing people didn't melt in the fiery desert of Arabia?
Let's talk about how dumb I am. Yaaay! Our favorite topic!
Apparently, being closer to the sun means you burn more easily. Who would have thought?? Genius.
See, in Wisconsin, I can spend almost an entire day outside and not even tan. When we went to the zoo a couple of weeks ago (a few hours of alternating sun and shade), I came home, lounged around during the girls' nap, and this BURN appeared on my shoulders two hours later.
First, I would like to know what's with the delay in sunburns. Since when does a burn take TWO HOURS to appear?
Second, ow.
Third, duh.
Moving on.
Today we went to a park and walked around a lake. It's a newish park, so all the trees are little babies, and there is no shade. None. We live in a desert. Of course there aren't any trees just springing up for the fun of it in the middle of the valley. I'm not Jonah, for crying out loud.
For some reason, I just assumed that this time, it would be different. Like, the laws of physics and biology in Utah would have changed (OF COURSE!) for my white Wisconsin-raised self.
I came home after this two-hour walk outside. Next to a lake. In blazing sun. With no trees. Did I mention no trees? I did not see a sunburn when I arrive home twenty minutes later. I didn't even see one an hour later after the girls went to bed.
Two hours later, a brilliant cherry red blossomed all over my shoulders, arms, and face. I look like I just got done with a REALLY intense workout. Or maybe I chewed up an habañero pepper, and then took it out of my mouth and rubbed it all over my body. Or maybe I took a nap in the oven.
So you can all laugh. And I will stock up on lightweight cotton long-sleeved shirts. And scarves. And long gaucho pants.
Incidentally, did you ever wonder how Prince Feisal and all the other black-clothing-wearing people didn't melt in the fiery desert of Arabia?
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Jean does not have a future in therapy
We have been having some trouble getting the girls' medical records transferred to our new pediatrician. I have filled out all the forms twice, to no avail. So I finally called our old pediatrician's office today.
Lady: Blah Blah Pediatrics, how may I help you?
Me: I've been having some trouble getting our daughters' records transferr--
Lady: Oh, let me just stop you right there. I need to transfer you to records, so you don't have to explain it all twice.
Me: Oh, thanks!
Lady: Hold just a minute.
::bad music::
::more bad music::
::still more bad mu--:
Jean: Blah Blah Medical Records; this is Jean. How may I help you?
Me: Hi, I've been having some trouble getting our daughters' records transferred to our new pediatrician, specifically the--
Jean: Name please?
Me: Last name Whine--W-H-I-N-E--, first names Grace and Emmeline--E-M--
Jean: Emily?
Me: No, Emmeline. E-M-M--
Jean: How do you spell that?
Me: [For serious?] E-M-M-E-L-I-N-E
(Oh, I love the name, but I'm so sick of spelling it; poor child has a rough life ahead of her with the Americanized German atrocity that is our last name. Get married quick, 2.0!)
Jean: Okay... here it is. It shows we sent 34 pages on February 9, 2011.
Me: Hmm. Well, the main problem was the immunization records. I'm pretty sure they got the--
Jean: Well, we sent it. 34 pages.
Me: Okay, well, I'll just call and double check. Her last visit was shortly after that, so maybe they hadn't been processed yet.
Jean: Okay. Bye!
She wasn't mean, just brusque. I still wanted to shake her. She's in such a hurry to do her job, let me finish a sentence! It would have gone much more quickly.
So I called our new pediatrician's office (almost an hour later, since they close for lunch), got transferred to records again, after more bad music. The nicest lady works in that office:
Kim: New Blah Medical Records; this is Kim. How may I help you?
Me: Hi, I've been having some trouble getting our daughters' records transferred here; she has an appointment coming up, and I want to make sure they made it.
Kim: Okay, name please?
Me: Last name Whine--W-H-I-N-E--, first names Grace and Emmeline--E-M-M-E-L-I-N-E. [SEE HOW MUCH FASTER THAT WENT, JEAN?]
Kim: Okay, I have 34 pages here, but I'm not finding the immunization records. I'll just look through it for you quick...
[...
"quick" being a relative term, I suppose
...]
Kim: Hmm... Okay, there's nothing here. All I've got are two sheets saying they got their flu shots.
Me: Argh. Okay. I'll call them again. Thank you!
Me: [to self] Okay, why don't I just find the number for Blah Blah Records and call them directly so I don't have to get transferred again.
Lady2: Blah Blah Records, how may I help you?
Me: Hi, I'm calling again about my daughters' records. I'm having trouble getting them transferred.
Lady2: Name please?
Me: Last name Whine--W-H-I-N-E--, first names Grace and Emmeline--E-M-M-E-L-I-N-E.
Lady2: ...Oh, is this for pediatrics?
Me: Yes, I found the number on your website. It was the only one for records.
Lady2: Sorry; this is just the hospital; I'll need to transfer you to pediatrics.
Me: Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize.
Lady2: That's fine; no problem!
::bad music::
::more bad music::
::still more bad mu--:
Jean [breathing fire]: Mrs. Whine? WHY did you call the hospital's records?
Me: Bwah? This is the only number for records on Blah Blah Health Care's website. I thought it would be easier for everyone to call directly. I didn't know--
Jean: WELL. This is pediatrics [imagine this spoken slowly, like I'm two, or Bolivian, or nearly deaf]. The hospital can't give you our records.
Me: Okay...
Jean: Now, I SENT those 34 pages to your pediatrician just now. Why did you call again?
Me: Umm... You did?
Jean: I TOLD you I was sending them.
Me: I'm very sorry. I don't remember you saying that.
Jean: Well, I sent them. Why did you call again?
Me: Excuse me? I've sent this request twice. I wanted to make sure they actually got their records this time. They hadn't. I called here again.
Jean: Okay. Bye [with that note of irritation you leave on the end of a word to let someone know you think she's an idiot].
The whole thing is ridiculous, since they are the ones who botched the whole thing, but the 4th grader in me got off the phone and almost cried. Ridiculous.
But seriously. I know nothing about how offices work. Other than wasting her time (eyeroll), is there some horrible thing about accidentally calling the wrong number in the system?
In other news, I have found some pants that fit me perfectly. Black dress pants, no less, which is good because the pair I got from Old Navy five years ago are now tissue-thin. They are Gloria Vanderbilt, which makes me feel like a 60-something Kohl's aficionado, but hey! They look good on me. They are not high-waisted, pleated, or tapered, so who cares if they're a mom jeans and cardigans kind of brand, right?
Lady: Blah Blah Pediatrics, how may I help you?
Me: I've been having some trouble getting our daughters' records transferr--
Lady: Oh, let me just stop you right there. I need to transfer you to records, so you don't have to explain it all twice.
Me: Oh, thanks!
Lady: Hold just a minute.
::bad music::
::more bad music::
::still more bad mu--:
Jean: Blah Blah Medical Records; this is Jean. How may I help you?
Me: Hi, I've been having some trouble getting our daughters' records transferred to our new pediatrician, specifically the--
Jean: Name please?
Me: Last name Whine--W-H-I-N-E--, first names Grace and Emmeline--E-M--
Jean: Emily?
Me: No, Emmeline. E-M-M--
Jean: How do you spell that?
Me: [For serious?] E-M-M-E-L-I-N-E
(Oh, I love the name, but I'm so sick of spelling it; poor child has a rough life ahead of her with the Americanized German atrocity that is our last name. Get married quick, 2.0!)
Jean: Okay... here it is. It shows we sent 34 pages on February 9, 2011.
Me: Hmm. Well, the main problem was the immunization records. I'm pretty sure they got the--
Jean: Well, we sent it. 34 pages.
Me: Okay, well, I'll just call and double check. Her last visit was shortly after that, so maybe they hadn't been processed yet.
Jean: Okay. Bye!
She wasn't mean, just brusque. I still wanted to shake her. She's in such a hurry to do her job, let me finish a sentence! It would have gone much more quickly.
So I called our new pediatrician's office (almost an hour later, since they close for lunch), got transferred to records again, after more bad music. The nicest lady works in that office:
Kim: New Blah Medical Records; this is Kim. How may I help you?
Me: Hi, I've been having some trouble getting our daughters' records transferred here; she has an appointment coming up, and I want to make sure they made it.
Kim: Okay, name please?
Me: Last name Whine--W-H-I-N-E--, first names Grace and Emmeline--E-M-M-E-L-I-N-E. [SEE HOW MUCH FASTER THAT WENT, JEAN?]
Kim: Okay, I have 34 pages here, but I'm not finding the immunization records. I'll just look through it for you quick...
[...
"quick" being a relative term, I suppose
...]
Kim: Hmm... Okay, there's nothing here. All I've got are two sheets saying they got their flu shots.
Me: Argh. Okay. I'll call them again. Thank you!
Me: [to self] Okay, why don't I just find the number for Blah Blah Records and call them directly so I don't have to get transferred again.
Lady2: Blah Blah Records, how may I help you?
Me: Hi, I'm calling again about my daughters' records. I'm having trouble getting them transferred.
Lady2: Name please?
Me: Last name Whine--W-H-I-N-E--, first names Grace and Emmeline--E-M-M-E-L-I-N-E.
Lady2: ...Oh, is this for pediatrics?
Me: Yes, I found the number on your website. It was the only one for records.
Lady2: Sorry; this is just the hospital; I'll need to transfer you to pediatrics.
Me: Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize.
Lady2: That's fine; no problem!
::bad music::
::more bad music::
::still more bad mu--:
Jean [breathing fire]: Mrs. Whine? WHY did you call the hospital's records?
Me: Bwah? This is the only number for records on Blah Blah Health Care's website. I thought it would be easier for everyone to call directly. I didn't know--
Jean: WELL. This is pediatrics [imagine this spoken slowly, like I'm two, or Bolivian, or nearly deaf]. The hospital can't give you our records.
Me: Okay...
Jean: Now, I SENT those 34 pages to your pediatrician just now. Why did you call again?
Me: Umm... You did?
Jean: I TOLD you I was sending them.
Me: I'm very sorry. I don't remember you saying that.
Jean: Well, I sent them. Why did you call again?
Me: Excuse me? I've sent this request twice. I wanted to make sure they actually got their records this time. They hadn't. I called here again.
Jean: Okay. Bye [with that note of irritation you leave on the end of a word to let someone know you think she's an idiot].
The whole thing is ridiculous, since they are the ones who botched the whole thing, but the 4th grader in me got off the phone and almost cried. Ridiculous.
But seriously. I know nothing about how offices work. Other than wasting her time (eyeroll), is there some horrible thing about accidentally calling the wrong number in the system?
In other news, I have found some pants that fit me perfectly. Black dress pants, no less, which is good because the pair I got from Old Navy five years ago are now tissue-thin. They are Gloria Vanderbilt, which makes me feel like a 60-something Kohl's aficionado, but hey! They look good on me. They are not high-waisted, pleated, or tapered, so who cares if they're a mom jeans and cardigans kind of brand, right?
Thursday, April 28, 2011
My clever idea. Clever-ish. Maybe.
So many of you are so crafty and good with your hands; I'm almost embarrassed to post this since I cheated by going through CafePress. But I designed an apron (design? hah! I slapped some text over a picture of an apron and called it done. I did spend some time agonizing over the font, I guess...). Now, some people may not care for it, but it's been a joke between me and Jeremy for a long time, and someone suggested I actually put it up for sale. So I did!
Anyway, go check it out, if you don't mind. Even if you won't buy one, share it on your Facebook wall if you like it. I'd love to just sell ten of these!
Thanks!
Barefoot in the Kitchen
(I wrote a real entry earlier today)
Anyway, go check it out, if you don't mind. Even if you won't buy one, share it on your Facebook wall if you like it. I'd love to just sell ten of these!
Thanks!
Barefoot in the Kitchen
(I wrote a real entry earlier today)
This and that
I sit down to write something at least five times a day and then blank out. This is the busiest (good busy) I've been in years, and somehow I have nothing to talk about.
I have continued to lose weight. This is nice, but it also means I'm slowly shrinking out of even my older standbys. Buy a new wardrobe, suffer self-loathing for all the money I've needlessly spent, or don't buy a new wardrobe and suffer self-loathing for how horrible I look all the time? It's a conundrum.
(Don't worry. "Self-loathing" is hyperbole, folks. My ego is far too healthy--some might even say "fat"--to do any such thing to me.)
It's very odd because I'm still 15 pounds heavier than I was right after I had Emmy (the tiniest I've been since before I got pregnant with Grace, believe it or not; eating nothing but lettuce through an entire pregnancy does wonders for your post-pregnancy body... sadly, nursing had me packing it right back on), but all my clothing from then is really loose one me. Even the stuff that was old and stretched out already. I know I've put on muscle, but I'm certain it's not fifteen pounds' worth.
You know the other disadvantage to losing weight? (WARNING: OVERSHARE AHEAD) Bloat. Yeah. Turns out, if you lose a whole bunch of water weight, it comes back every time you're on your cycle. Bonus points if yours comes every two weeks (lucky me!). Now, it's really nice to feel lighter and smaller every other week, but it's also really frustrating to go up half a pants size for four days out of every fourteen. Yech.
Utah's weather may be better, but it still likes to drag out winter for a looong time. While it's much warmer here on average than in Wisconsin, 59 degrees and windy with rain is just not happy spring weather. We get a teaser every couple of days, and then Pbbbbt, says Utah, and snots all over us.
Yesterday was one such glorious day. We were going to grill out and then couldn't figure out how to light the stupid thing. This involved Jeremy running to WinCo with Grace to buy a long-handled lighter while Emmy and I hung out on the grill patio behind the clubhouse. She's so funny. When Grace goes anywhere without her, she'll cry for five minutes. And then once she gets over it, she turns into the happiest baby. Not that she's unhappy when Grace is around, but I think she relishes her few moments alone with a parent. Yesterday, I set her down in the grass to see how she'd react. Much like Grace, she Did Not Appreciate it, and sat there crying for a few minutes. Then she gingerly stood up and took a few tentative steps, stumbled, fell, and realized how much fun it is to fall in grass. That's pretty much all she did until Jeremy came back. If anyone noticed, I'm sure they thought I was feeding my toddler beer.
In Wisconsin, that would probably earn me a hearty, "Atta girl! Start 'em young!" from most people. Not so sure about Utah.
My sister and family are coming to visit next week. I am so excited I could squeal. In fact, I have squealed. Several times. It will be an adventure to have four adults and four (five, maybe, I'm not sure) children under one roof, but I am not worried. Especially not if the weather cooperates. Hi, sister! If you are reading this. I am giddy!
With that, I leave you. We have people coming over tonight, and while there's not a LOT to do, I know that I will regret it if I procrastinate any more.
I have continued to lose weight. This is nice, but it also means I'm slowly shrinking out of even my older standbys. Buy a new wardrobe, suffer self-loathing for all the money I've needlessly spent, or don't buy a new wardrobe and suffer self-loathing for how horrible I look all the time? It's a conundrum.
(Don't worry. "Self-loathing" is hyperbole, folks. My ego is far too healthy--some might even say "fat"--to do any such thing to me.)
It's very odd because I'm still 15 pounds heavier than I was right after I had Emmy (the tiniest I've been since before I got pregnant with Grace, believe it or not; eating nothing but lettuce through an entire pregnancy does wonders for your post-pregnancy body... sadly, nursing had me packing it right back on), but all my clothing from then is really loose one me. Even the stuff that was old and stretched out already. I know I've put on muscle, but I'm certain it's not fifteen pounds' worth.
You know the other disadvantage to losing weight? (WARNING: OVERSHARE AHEAD) Bloat. Yeah. Turns out, if you lose a whole bunch of water weight, it comes back every time you're on your cycle. Bonus points if yours comes every two weeks (lucky me!). Now, it's really nice to feel lighter and smaller every other week, but it's also really frustrating to go up half a pants size for four days out of every fourteen. Yech.
Utah's weather may be better, but it still likes to drag out winter for a looong time. While it's much warmer here on average than in Wisconsin, 59 degrees and windy with rain is just not happy spring weather. We get a teaser every couple of days, and then Pbbbbt, says Utah, and snots all over us.
Yesterday was one such glorious day. We were going to grill out and then couldn't figure out how to light the stupid thing. This involved Jeremy running to WinCo with Grace to buy a long-handled lighter while Emmy and I hung out on the grill patio behind the clubhouse. She's so funny. When Grace goes anywhere without her, she'll cry for five minutes. And then once she gets over it, she turns into the happiest baby. Not that she's unhappy when Grace is around, but I think she relishes her few moments alone with a parent. Yesterday, I set her down in the grass to see how she'd react. Much like Grace, she Did Not Appreciate it, and sat there crying for a few minutes. Then she gingerly stood up and took a few tentative steps, stumbled, fell, and realized how much fun it is to fall in grass. That's pretty much all she did until Jeremy came back. If anyone noticed, I'm sure they thought I was feeding my toddler beer.
In Wisconsin, that would probably earn me a hearty, "Atta girl! Start 'em young!" from most people. Not so sure about Utah.
My sister and family are coming to visit next week. I am so excited I could squeal. In fact, I have squealed. Several times. It will be an adventure to have four adults and four (five, maybe, I'm not sure) children under one roof, but I am not worried. Especially not if the weather cooperates. Hi, sister! If you are reading this. I am giddy!
With that, I leave you. We have people coming over tonight, and while there's not a LOT to do, I know that I will regret it if I procrastinate any more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)