"Grandma? When I was a little baby and growing MY teeth, I didn't cry at all. I just sat and looked."
Well, I'm glad that Boy Wonder has such pleasant memories of teething. However, I am here to tell you that he cried, a lot. And cried some more. And didn't want to drink his bottles at daycare. (Right around this age, he started ignoring his bottles and scarfed down jarred baby food instead. This left me a bit discouraged, as I was still pumping faithfully and sending bottles with him every day.) I think there were even a couple of fevers involved. Not that it was The Worst Time Ever, because overall he was still an easygoing baby, but teething did give him quite a bit of discomfort.
Baby Boone has two teeth so far, and doesn't seem to be in too much discomfort, but is a bit clingy. Just about all the time, in fact. As for his diapers: they're improving, I think? After changing his outfit twice this morning, I put him in pajamas, which are far easier to remove if befouled by Diapers of Doom. He seemed to really feel the pajama vibe, because he soon settled down and took a three-hour nap. So clearly, he wasn't feeling his best. I hope that tomorrow finds him feeling better!
Monday, January 29, 2007
Uh-oh
Baby Boone is showing signs* of having a GI virus. He's been running through diapers a little more frequently over the past week or so, and I was hoping that it was just due to teething and extra drool or something. But Dragon couldn't leave well enough alone**, cheerily saying in the car yesterday, "I can't believe Baby Boone hasn't been sick! He's hardly been sick at all, compared to Boy Wonder at this age! It's so great!"
Me: "Shhh. You'll jinx us and he'll get sick a bunch. Probably right after I get a job, whenever that may be."
Dragon: "Oh, he will not. I wonder why he hasn't gotten sick, though?"
Me: "Shut up! Seriously!"
Perhaps I am a little paranoid. But Baby Boone is just at the age that Boy Wonder was when he embarked on a months-long Viral Stampede, consisting of a GI virus followed by RSV + pneumonia + an ear infection followed by another GI virus followed by a couple of feverish colds followed by croup. I think I can justify my paranoia here.
*Six befouled items of clothing (his outfits, my shirts), one gross high-chair cover, and a couple of unpleasant towels. I am the Laundry Goddess today.
**Not that this is actually his fault. But the Irony Gods are laughing at me.
Me: "Shhh. You'll jinx us and he'll get sick a bunch. Probably right after I get a job, whenever that may be."
Dragon: "Oh, he will not. I wonder why he hasn't gotten sick, though?"
Me: "Shut up! Seriously!"
Perhaps I am a little paranoid. But Baby Boone is just at the age that Boy Wonder was when he embarked on a months-long Viral Stampede, consisting of a GI virus followed by RSV + pneumonia + an ear infection followed by another GI virus followed by a couple of feverish colds followed by croup. I think I can justify my paranoia here.
*Six befouled items of clothing (his outfits, my shirts), one gross high-chair cover, and a couple of unpleasant towels. I am the Laundry Goddess today.
**Not that this is actually his fault. But the Irony Gods are laughing at me.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Accentuate the positive
Today is not a good hair day for me, so I dug into the box of mostly-unused hair accessories, pulled out a couple of ponytail holders, and put my hair in low pigtails to keep it off my face as I go about my various housewifely chores.
And heard, "Mommy! Nice hair you got! I love your new hair! Give me a hug and kiss," from a beaming Boy Wonder. Clearly, he doesn't see it as a bad hair day.
And heard, "Mommy! Nice hair you got! I love your new hair! Give me a hug and kiss," from a beaming Boy Wonder. Clearly, he doesn't see it as a bad hair day.
Friday, January 19, 2007
The affair of the earring
Last year, I received a pair of diamond earrings for Mother's Day. I'd been realizing that having two children left me even less time to accessorize, and I was never big on accessorizing to begin with. So I wanted something I could wear all the time, that would go with anything, and Dragon was kind enough to oblige. And I did wear them all the time.
Shortly after Adventures in Unemployment began, I was supervising Boy Wonder as he bathed one Friday evening, and absently began twirling a lock of hair near my ear. With shock and horror, I then realized that I was only wearing one earring...and I had no idea when the other one had gone missing. I checked everywhere I could think of, but no earring was to be found.
Today, I undertook to clean the bathroom with the new sink, particularly the bathtub, which had been serving as a repository for discarded bits of pipe, a bucket, and general plumbing muck. I decided to wipe out most of the muck with a paper towel first, to avoid clogging the drain. As I did so, I heard something click against the side of the tub. And I lifted the paper towel to investigate.
And beheld a diamond earring, sans back. Grimy, certainly, yet recognizable as the one I lost in November.
It's currently enjoying a leisurely soak in hot, soapy water. It will then undergo another couple of cleansing treatments. Then it will be fitted with an earring back of appropriate size.
And then it will be worn to my interview this afternoon.
Because if that isn't an omen, I don't know what is.
Shortly after Adventures in Unemployment began, I was supervising Boy Wonder as he bathed one Friday evening, and absently began twirling a lock of hair near my ear. With shock and horror, I then realized that I was only wearing one earring...and I had no idea when the other one had gone missing. I checked everywhere I could think of, but no earring was to be found.
Today, I undertook to clean the bathroom with the new sink, particularly the bathtub, which had been serving as a repository for discarded bits of pipe, a bucket, and general plumbing muck. I decided to wipe out most of the muck with a paper towel first, to avoid clogging the drain. As I did so, I heard something click against the side of the tub. And I lifted the paper towel to investigate.
And beheld a diamond earring, sans back. Grimy, certainly, yet recognizable as the one I lost in November.
It's currently enjoying a leisurely soak in hot, soapy water. It will then undergo another couple of cleansing treatments. Then it will be fitted with an earring back of appropriate size.
And then it will be worn to my interview this afternoon.
Because if that isn't an omen, I don't know what is.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
I've got a sink-ing feeling about this.
See the old sink. It is pink. It is not all that attractive, I think.
See the new sink. It is not pink. It is shiny and fresh and appealing, I think.
See the new sink. It is not pink. It is shiny and fresh and appealing, I think.
Yesterday, we welcomed the first component of a shiny, attractive, and conveniently arranged bathroom. As you can see from the wall behind the sink, we've got a ways to go.
It all started with a leaky faucet. Dragon wanted to fix the faucet, but the old sink was....well, old. And sort of weird. The guy at the hardware store said, "You want what, now? Wait, how old is this house? I've never heard of that." We'd been looking at sinks earlier this week anyway, and Dragon called from the store and said, "So. I can just buy that sink we were looking at, right?" It was the most inexpensive sink available, but it suits our purposes nicely. And it is far more attractive than the old sink, which has been relegated to the basement for the moment.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Additions to the list
6. I can keep up with the dishes.
Every apartment we've ever lived in had more counter space than our house does. The vast majority of those apartments had dishwashers. Our house does not have a dishwasher. So, when the dishes pile up, they do so in a profoundly grand fashion, taking over the kitchen and giving it the feel of an unsavory restaurant kitchen. Now, I can wash dishes several times during the day, thereby ensuring that our foot and a half* of counter space is kept free. Of course, it always fills up rather quickly. With dishes.
*Not an exaggeration.
7. I can watch as many Nick, Jr. cartoons as I want to.
Wait, this isn't actually a benefit. Never mind.
Every apartment we've ever lived in had more counter space than our house does. The vast majority of those apartments had dishwashers. Our house does not have a dishwasher. So, when the dishes pile up, they do so in a profoundly grand fashion, taking over the kitchen and giving it the feel of an unsavory restaurant kitchen. Now, I can wash dishes several times during the day, thereby ensuring that our foot and a half* of counter space is kept free. Of course, it always fills up rather quickly. With dishes.
*Not an exaggeration.
7. I can watch as many Nick, Jr. cartoons as I want to.
Wait, this isn't actually a benefit. Never mind.
Journey into the imagination
"Mommy? Today is a very special day!"
"Oh, good. Why is that?"
"Because you're not going to pick me up at school today!"
"Oh? Who is, then?"
"Grandpa will pick me up at school today!"
"Uh. Well, I'm sure you'd like that. He probably would too. But Mommy is picking you up today."
"No! I will call Grandpa on the phone and ask him." (sound of pretend phone being dialed) "Hi, Grandpa? It's Boy Wonder. Are you picking me up at school today? You are? Okay, great! See you later!"
Maybe he dreamed that Grandpa would be picking him up today; he seemed quite convinced. My dad certainly got a kick out of hearing it!
"Oh, good. Why is that?"
"Because you're not going to pick me up at school today!"
"Oh? Who is, then?"
"Grandpa will pick me up at school today!"
"Uh. Well, I'm sure you'd like that. He probably would too. But Mommy is picking you up today."
"No! I will call Grandpa on the phone and ask him." (sound of pretend phone being dialed) "Hi, Grandpa? It's Boy Wonder. Are you picking me up at school today? You are? Okay, great! See you later!"
Maybe he dreamed that Grandpa would be picking him up today; he seemed quite convinced. My dad certainly got a kick out of hearing it!
Monday, January 15, 2007
Make a list
In an effort to cheer myself up, I've decided to look on the bright side, and embrace the positive aspects of being unemployed.* Please enjoy the following list.
1. I get to spend more time with the kids.
Duh. The kids are great, and I enjoy spending time with them. And, no matter how many times I need to send Boy Wonder to time-out, I'm sure that one day I'll be wearing my rose-colored glasses and waxing nostalgic about The Time I Got To Spend More Time At Home.
2. The dress code can't be beat.
I've always dressed like a scruffy college student on the weekends; now, save for interviews and resume drop-offs, I can do it all the time. I can also experiment with makeup; I've always secretly wanted to wear really dramatic eye makeup every once in a while, and now I can, because the circulation aides at the library and the clerk at Target sure don't care if I'm wearing too much eyeliner. (I've also always wanted to get funky-colored highlights, but as those do not wash off every evening and I am still looking for a professional-level job, that's right out at the moment.)
3. I can sleep late. Uh, relatively speaking.
Baby Boone is a fine sleeper, and Boy Wonder is happy to watch cartoons until 7:30 or so. It's been some time since I've slept this late in the mornings.
4. I don't have to pump much.
Pumping (of the breast variety) was always easy for me, but it is nice to only do it a few times a week now, instead of twice a day every day, with a load of bottles and pump parts to wash every evening and a bag to carry out the door every morning.
5. I don't have to worry about getting The Call.
The Call, otherwise known as "Anithe? Hi, this is Daycare Center Director. Boy Wonder just barfed into his cereal bowl/spiked a fever of 103/is wheezing like an accordion. You'll need to come get him, and he can't come back tomorrow" is not currently a concern. The boys are still in daycare one day a week, but even if The Call comes, it's not like I have anything going on the next day. On a related note, doctor appointments, for me and for the kids, are easy to work into the schedule right now as well.
That's about all I can think of for now! Applied for four jobs today; anyone want to bet how many of them will actually call me?
Anyone?
Are those crickets I hear chirping?
Anyway, I promise that Happy, Optimistic Posts About My Gorgeous and Brilliant Sons are coming soon.
*This is my little reverse psychology trick. Generally, if I am comfortable with my employment situation, that means a change is coming. So, if I act like I'm totally okay with my unemployment situation, the universe will notice, and a change will come! Right? Right? Ri.....hey, where are you going?
1. I get to spend more time with the kids.
Duh. The kids are great, and I enjoy spending time with them. And, no matter how many times I need to send Boy Wonder to time-out, I'm sure that one day I'll be wearing my rose-colored glasses and waxing nostalgic about The Time I Got To Spend More Time At Home.
2. The dress code can't be beat.
I've always dressed like a scruffy college student on the weekends; now, save for interviews and resume drop-offs, I can do it all the time. I can also experiment with makeup; I've always secretly wanted to wear really dramatic eye makeup every once in a while, and now I can, because the circulation aides at the library and the clerk at Target sure don't care if I'm wearing too much eyeliner. (I've also always wanted to get funky-colored highlights, but as those do not wash off every evening and I am still looking for a professional-level job, that's right out at the moment.)
3. I can sleep late. Uh, relatively speaking.
Baby Boone is a fine sleeper, and Boy Wonder is happy to watch cartoons until 7:30 or so. It's been some time since I've slept this late in the mornings.
4. I don't have to pump much.
Pumping (of the breast variety) was always easy for me, but it is nice to only do it a few times a week now, instead of twice a day every day, with a load of bottles and pump parts to wash every evening and a bag to carry out the door every morning.
5. I don't have to worry about getting The Call.
The Call, otherwise known as "Anithe? Hi, this is Daycare Center Director. Boy Wonder just barfed into his cereal bowl/spiked a fever of 103/is wheezing like an accordion. You'll need to come get him, and he can't come back tomorrow" is not currently a concern. The boys are still in daycare one day a week, but even if The Call comes, it's not like I have anything going on the next day. On a related note, doctor appointments, for me and for the kids, are easy to work into the schedule right now as well.
That's about all I can think of for now! Applied for four jobs today; anyone want to bet how many of them will actually call me?
Anyone?
Are those crickets I hear chirping?
Anyway, I promise that Happy, Optimistic Posts About My Gorgeous and Brilliant Sons are coming soon.
*This is my little reverse psychology trick. Generally, if I am comfortable with my employment situation, that means a change is coming. So, if I act like I'm totally okay with my unemployment situation, the universe will notice, and a change will come! Right? Right? Ri.....hey, where are you going?
Friday, January 12, 2007
Just GO already
I am confident that I am not the first person to blog about this; in fact, I'm confident that I'm not the thousandth person to blog about this. So my apologies to those who have blogged before.
But, boy. What is up with three-year-olds blithely ignoring the call of nature? Boy Wonder has been wearing big-boy underwear featuring a variety of different cartoon characters since August, and he's been doing very well. Frequently, however, he waits until the last moment possible. Every parent in the world is no doubt familiar with a certain kind of dance that preschoolers frequently perform, involving much crotch-grabbing and bouncing from one foot to the other, that inspires the nearest adult to say, "Hey. I think it's time to go potty now, Junior." When my cousins and I were growing up, our elders called it, crudely but accurately, the PeePee Dance.
Well. This morning, shortly after waking up, Boy Wonder let loose with what was not so much a Dance as a whole goshdarned Recital. With several encores. Yes, there was crotch-grabbing and bouncing from one foot to the other. There were also deep-knee bends, amusing facial expressions, and screaming denials. ("I DO NOT HAVE TO GO POTTY! I DON'T NEED TO! NO POTTY! NO!") Amazingly, the screaming denials continued as he hopped, bounced, and grabbed his way into the bathroom, used it, flushed, and washed his hands.
But, boy. What is up with three-year-olds blithely ignoring the call of nature? Boy Wonder has been wearing big-boy underwear featuring a variety of different cartoon characters since August, and he's been doing very well. Frequently, however, he waits until the last moment possible. Every parent in the world is no doubt familiar with a certain kind of dance that preschoolers frequently perform, involving much crotch-grabbing and bouncing from one foot to the other, that inspires the nearest adult to say, "Hey. I think it's time to go potty now, Junior." When my cousins and I were growing up, our elders called it, crudely but accurately, the PeePee Dance.
Well. This morning, shortly after waking up, Boy Wonder let loose with what was not so much a Dance as a whole goshdarned Recital. With several encores. Yes, there was crotch-grabbing and bouncing from one foot to the other. There were also deep-knee bends, amusing facial expressions, and screaming denials. ("I DO NOT HAVE TO GO POTTY! I DON'T NEED TO! NO POTTY! NO!") Amazingly, the screaming denials continued as he hopped, bounced, and grabbed his way into the bathroom, used it, flushed, and washed his hands.
Sleep, interrupted
Well, I do have a teething nine-month-old; my sleep is interrupted pretty frequently. The most recent interruption, however, was more dramatic than usual.
A while back, Boy Wonder woke up in the middle of the night with an attack of croup. Early this morning, it was Baby Boone's turn. I woke at 3:00 to the sounds of a greatly distressed infant, screaming his little heart out and coughing like a little barking seal in between screams. To add to the indignity, he was soaking wet. He was mightily upset when I put him down to go secure a fresh diaper and some dry pajamas, but calmed down a bit once he was warm, dry, and fed. A breathalyzer* treatment was given, and the cough returned to being a normal cough instead of a croupy one. I took him back to our bed, since it was 3:35 and I couldn't muster the energy to go change the wet sheets in his crib. He was briefly quite energetic, wanting to pat Daddy's face and babble at me in a whisper, but was soon lulled back to sleep.
Yawn.
*Sane people call these nebulizer treatments: asthma medication is put into a little plastic thingie and then converted to a fine mist that small children can inhale easily. However, one day when Boy Wonder was small and wheezy, my dad said, "Will he need a breathalyzer treatment while he's at our house? Wait, I mean a...." Too much NYPD Blue, perhaps? But lo, the name stuck, so my kids get breathalyzer treatments.
A while back, Boy Wonder woke up in the middle of the night with an attack of croup. Early this morning, it was Baby Boone's turn. I woke at 3:00 to the sounds of a greatly distressed infant, screaming his little heart out and coughing like a little barking seal in between screams. To add to the indignity, he was soaking wet. He was mightily upset when I put him down to go secure a fresh diaper and some dry pajamas, but calmed down a bit once he was warm, dry, and fed. A breathalyzer* treatment was given, and the cough returned to being a normal cough instead of a croupy one. I took him back to our bed, since it was 3:35 and I couldn't muster the energy to go change the wet sheets in his crib. He was briefly quite energetic, wanting to pat Daddy's face and babble at me in a whisper, but was soon lulled back to sleep.
Yawn.
*Sane people call these nebulizer treatments: asthma medication is put into a little plastic thingie and then converted to a fine mist that small children can inhale easily. However, one day when Boy Wonder was small and wheezy, my dad said, "Will he need a breathalyzer treatment while he's at our house? Wait, I mean a...." Too much NYPD Blue, perhaps? But lo, the name stuck, so my kids get breathalyzer treatments.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Child labor
Boy Wonder just came in, as I sat at my computer surfing the local job-huntin' Web site, and handed me some papers.
"Here are some pictures for you!" he said.
"Oh, thank you, honey." I said. "They're very nice. I'll keep them right here, okay? Maybe I'll tape one to my computer monitor."
"Okay. I need to go draw more pictures. I'm WORKING now. I'm very busy working."
Well, at least SOMEONE is working around here.
(And now I feel horribly guilty. I'm sitting here thinking, "Why in the name of all that is holy does he not just take a nap already?" And he's sitting in the living room drawing a big stack of pictures. For me.)
"Here are some pictures for you!" he said.
"Oh, thank you, honey." I said. "They're very nice. I'll keep them right here, okay? Maybe I'll tape one to my computer monitor."
"Okay. I need to go draw more pictures. I'm WORKING now. I'm very busy working."
Well, at least SOMEONE is working around here.
(And now I feel horribly guilty. I'm sitting here thinking, "Why in the name of all that is holy does he not just take a nap already?" And he's sitting in the living room drawing a big stack of pictures. For me.)
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Sometimes I hate being right
And sometimes, I hate being right with the white-hot flaming passion of a thousand burning suns.
I've got mail. And wouldn't you know it? They received a number of highly qualified applicants, and thought I brought a wonderful resume and great character references (thanks, Hawkins). And, of course, they wish me all the best in my job search! Which will, of course, be continuing. (It would have been continuing anyway, of course, but unfortunately it will continue without benefit of a conveniently located part-time job.)
I've got mail. And wouldn't you know it? They received a number of highly qualified applicants, and thought I brought a wonderful resume and great character references (thanks, Hawkins). And, of course, they wish me all the best in my job search! Which will, of course, be continuing. (It would have been continuing anyway, of course, but unfortunately it will continue without benefit of a conveniently located part-time job.)
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
The waiting game
Yesterday, via email: "I enjoyed speaking with you as well, Anithe. We'll be checking references today, and hope to make our decision tomorrow."
What's that? No, I haven't been checking my Yahoo mail or my cell phone messages every ten minutes. Thanks for asking. I've applied for several positions via the local job-huntin' Web site, and scoured the employment classifieds for a third time. I've cleaned both bathrooms, done all of the dishes and several loads of laundry, and created places to hang the mop, the broom, and several jackets. I took care of rearranging the living room yesterday, otherwise I'd have done that too. At least suspense enhances my housekeeping skills.
I get the feeling that bad news, if that's what's coming, will be in the form of an email, much like the letter I received last Friday. And good news would likely be in the form of a phone call.
Email option
"We were fortunate enough to receive a large number of qualified applicants."
(I imagine you were, since another company in our field closed its local office in December, and there are now a blue million people with similar quals bouncing around the city's job market.)
"We thank you for your interest and enjoyed meeting you, but feel that you're overqualified for this position."
(Because you sort of hinted at that in last Friday's interview. I hope I did a good job of addressing that, and that my follow-up email served as more proof that I really WOULD like this job. Who cares if the job consists of tasks that are somewhat mundane? Not me. It's a paid position, not volunteer work. I find that sufficient motivation.)
Phone option
"Anithe? Hello. We've checked references, and found yours satisfactory; we feel that you'd be the best fit for this position. Can you come in on Friday for some preliminary paperwork, and begin officially on Tuesday?"
Place your bets now! Email or phone, good news or bad. I'm sure you know which one I'd prefer. For now, I am going to go acquire some mundane yet needed household items, which will at least keep me away from the computer.
What's that? No, I haven't been checking my Yahoo mail or my cell phone messages every ten minutes. Thanks for asking. I've applied for several positions via the local job-huntin' Web site, and scoured the employment classifieds for a third time. I've cleaned both bathrooms, done all of the dishes and several loads of laundry, and created places to hang the mop, the broom, and several jackets. I took care of rearranging the living room yesterday, otherwise I'd have done that too. At least suspense enhances my housekeeping skills.
I get the feeling that bad news, if that's what's coming, will be in the form of an email, much like the letter I received last Friday. And good news would likely be in the form of a phone call.
Email option
"We were fortunate enough to receive a large number of qualified applicants."
(I imagine you were, since another company in our field closed its local office in December, and there are now a blue million people with similar quals bouncing around the city's job market.)
"We thank you for your interest and enjoyed meeting you, but feel that you're overqualified for this position."
(Because you sort of hinted at that in last Friday's interview. I hope I did a good job of addressing that, and that my follow-up email served as more proof that I really WOULD like this job. Who cares if the job consists of tasks that are somewhat mundane? Not me. It's a paid position, not volunteer work. I find that sufficient motivation.)
Phone option
"Anithe? Hello. We've checked references, and found yours satisfactory; we feel that you'd be the best fit for this position. Can you come in on Friday for some preliminary paperwork, and begin officially on Tuesday?"
Place your bets now! Email or phone, good news or bad. I'm sure you know which one I'd prefer. For now, I am going to go acquire some mundane yet needed household items, which will at least keep me away from the computer.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Conversations with Grandma
I
"Hi, Mom. How are the boys doing?"
"Great. Baby Boone is sleeping, and Boy Wonder is writing you some letters. Aren't you? Are you writing letters to Mommy?"
(in the distance) "Yeah."
"Are you writing letters that say, 'I love you, Mommy'?"
(in the distance) "No, Mommy is kind of mean."
"Well, I'm sure Mommy only hollers at you if you act naughty. And you can sure act naughty sometimes. Hey, what do you think of Grandma? Is Grandma mean?"
(long pause)
"No. But really I like dinosaurs better. Stop asking me questions, Grandma."
II
"I don't want to paint anymore! I want my mommy!"
"Well, Mommy and Daddy are out seeing a movie and having a special dinner.* They'll be back soon, but for now you can visit with Grandma."
"I don't want to. And Baby Boone wants to go home too. He wants Mommy." (Apparently, this was followed by the sounds of Baby Boone laughing with Grandpa in the living room.)
"I think he's having an OK time, actually."
"Grandma? I'm sleepy."
"Really? I never would have guessed that, honey."
*Thanks for those restaurant gift cards and movie passes, relatives! As we drove to the theater yesterday, I realized that I hadn't seen a movie since May. Wow.
"Hi, Mom. How are the boys doing?"
"Great. Baby Boone is sleeping, and Boy Wonder is writing you some letters. Aren't you? Are you writing letters to Mommy?"
(in the distance) "Yeah."
"Are you writing letters that say, 'I love you, Mommy'?"
(in the distance) "No, Mommy is kind of mean."
"Well, I'm sure Mommy only hollers at you if you act naughty. And you can sure act naughty sometimes. Hey, what do you think of Grandma? Is Grandma mean?"
(long pause)
"No. But really I like dinosaurs better. Stop asking me questions, Grandma."
II
"I don't want to paint anymore! I want my mommy!"
"Well, Mommy and Daddy are out seeing a movie and having a special dinner.* They'll be back soon, but for now you can visit with Grandma."
"I don't want to. And Baby Boone wants to go home too. He wants Mommy." (Apparently, this was followed by the sounds of Baby Boone laughing with Grandpa in the living room.)
"I think he's having an OK time, actually."
"Grandma? I'm sleepy."
"Really? I never would have guessed that, honey."
*Thanks for those restaurant gift cards and movie passes, relatives! As we drove to the theater yesterday, I realized that I hadn't seen a movie since May. Wow.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Foreheads on ice
Earlier this week, Baby Boone received his first bruise. Boy Wonder, being very interested in tents, had draped several blankets over the coffee table. Before I could tell him that this was not a great idea, Baby Boone had launched himself toward the bright, pretty blankets which to him must have appeared to be miraculously floating in the middle of the room. Unfortunately, since there was still a coffee table underneath them, he bonked his forehead but good. Many tears and an ice-pack session ensured, and he ended up with a good-sized bump on the right side of his forehead.
Apparently, my subconscious felt guilty about this, as I have now managed to give myself a similar bruise. Baby Boone woke up at 4:15 this morning, much distressed and crying loudly, and I raced into the boys' room to tend to him before Boy Wonder woke up. Baby Boone was already standing up in his crib, so I picked him up and headed for the door, casting a glance over my left shoulder to make sure that Boy Wonder was still asleep. He was, but the over-the-shoulder glance threw me off balance. Instead of making a neat exit, I ended up whacking my left temple on the doorframe. (Fortunately, I am right-handed and carry Baby Boone on my dominant side, so he was unharmed. Although I'm sure he was mildly startled when I stopped and began quietly swearing like a sailor.) As an added bonus, this moment of gracefulness also left a large bruise on my upper left arm.
Apparently, my subconscious felt guilty about this, as I have now managed to give myself a similar bruise. Baby Boone woke up at 4:15 this morning, much distressed and crying loudly, and I raced into the boys' room to tend to him before Boy Wonder woke up. Baby Boone was already standing up in his crib, so I picked him up and headed for the door, casting a glance over my left shoulder to make sure that Boy Wonder was still asleep. He was, but the over-the-shoulder glance threw me off balance. Instead of making a neat exit, I ended up whacking my left temple on the doorframe. (Fortunately, I am right-handed and carry Baby Boone on my dominant side, so he was unharmed. Although I'm sure he was mildly startled when I stopped and began quietly swearing like a sailor.) As an added bonus, this moment of gracefulness also left a large bruise on my upper left arm.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Not-so-good housekeeping
Back in the day when I was employed, Boy Wonder and I discussed all sorts of important issues on the drive home from daycare--age ("I will be four on my next birthday! How old will I be after that? Five! And one day I'll be 30, like Mommy!"), family relationships ("Yes, Cousin and his baby sister are both your cousins. You can have more than one cousin."), reality vs. fiction ("I don't care if Other Kid says you only have one eye. He's being silly. You have two eyes."), and other assorted topics ("Seriously. I don't know where the billboard with the dancing man went."). Since we're down to one day of daycare per week, we don't have too many of these conversations anymore, but the one on Thursday was somewhat memorable.
"Mommy? Is that the dryer store?" (We were driving past a laundromat.)
"No. That's a place with washers and dryers for people to use, if theirs are broken or they don't have any."
"Oh." (long pause) "It's hard to cook outside, isn't it? It's hard to cook without a house. You should never cook outside the house."
"Uh. Well, Daddy uses the grill to cook dinner sometimes, and the grill is outside."
"Oh. OK." (long pause) "You should never cook without a DRYER, then."
I tried taking a logic class back in college, and the results temporarily crashed out my GPA. Clearly, Boy Wonder takes after me.
"Mommy? Is that the dryer store?" (We were driving past a laundromat.)
"No. That's a place with washers and dryers for people to use, if theirs are broken or they don't have any."
"Oh." (long pause) "It's hard to cook outside, isn't it? It's hard to cook without a house. You should never cook outside the house."
"Uh. Well, Daddy uses the grill to cook dinner sometimes, and the grill is outside."
"Oh. OK." (long pause) "You should never cook without a DRYER, then."
I tried taking a logic class back in college, and the results temporarily crashed out my GPA. Clearly, Boy Wonder takes after me.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Resolved
Yes, I know it's January 5th. I like to procrastinate, so I've just made my New Year's resolutions.
#1: Find job.
This one is the priority, obviously. And how's it going? Could be better. Top Choice Company has not deigned to contact me yet, and one of the positions that I applied for is no longer listed on its Web site. Company with Rockin' Benefits just sent a letter saying, "Thanks, but no thanks! Good luck!" I have not heard anything from Company I Interviewed With Way Back in December, so I'm guessing that's a no-go as well. And I had another interview today, for a position I'd like very much. It's part-time, it's two frackin' blocks away from the boys' daycare, it's got a casual atmosphere, and I'd still be able to look for full-time work. But I am rather frightened that they'll call me up on Monday and say, "Thanks, but no thanks! Good luck!"
#2: Spend more quality time with Boy Wonder.
#3: Spend more quality time with Baby Boone.
#2 and #3 will be sort of challenging, really. Boy Wonder is quite demanding of attention lately, as the average three-year-old is, and Baby Boone has turned into a very interactive, mobile little guy who is not keen on napping and likes to put everything into his mouth. So playing with one of them while the other does his own thing is not really possibly anymore. Baby Boone is very interested in everything his older brother does, of course, and Boy Wonder alternates between "I want to share my toys with him! Baby Boone, come play on the blanket with me!" and "I don't want him here! These are MY TOYS! NOT YOURS, BABY BOONE!"
#4: Stop yelling at Boy Wonder so much.
Unfortunately, I've heard that many three-year-olds go through a big selective hearing phase, when they blithely ignore Mom unless she's shouting. This seems to be what's going on here. Plus, if he didn't do things like try to run off in parking lots, knock his brother over, and attempt to turn the coffee table into a jungle gym, I wouldn't be inspired to yell so much. But again, he's a very physically confident three-year-old.* I will buy earplugs for my neighbors.
#5: Make concerted effort to fit into array of smaller trousers filling storage bins in closet.
My work wardrobe, if I EVER have occasion to use it again, would quadruple.
#6: Write more.
(Get ready!)
#7: Keep house clean and organized.
You can always give an apartment a cursory cleaning, move to another one, and still get most of your cleaning deposit back. Houses require a bit more attention.
Yeah. We'll see how THAT goes.
*I was startled to find out that not all three-year-olds are physically confident. A former worker mentioned that she'd enrolled her son in a gymnastics program after noticing that he was crazily verbal but not all that enthusiastic about running, jumping, or climbing. It worked out quite well for him and now he's much more confident. I wonder how one gets a three-year-old to display less physical confidence; not even whacking his head on the coffee table seems to deter Boy Wonder. In fact, he's started taking Pretend Falls (thunk. "Oops, I fell down! HAHAHAHAHHAHAH!") lately.
#1: Find job.
This one is the priority, obviously. And how's it going? Could be better. Top Choice Company has not deigned to contact me yet, and one of the positions that I applied for is no longer listed on its Web site. Company with Rockin' Benefits just sent a letter saying, "Thanks, but no thanks! Good luck!" I have not heard anything from Company I Interviewed With Way Back in December, so I'm guessing that's a no-go as well. And I had another interview today, for a position I'd like very much. It's part-time, it's two frackin' blocks away from the boys' daycare, it's got a casual atmosphere, and I'd still be able to look for full-time work. But I am rather frightened that they'll call me up on Monday and say, "Thanks, but no thanks! Good luck!"
#2: Spend more quality time with Boy Wonder.
#3: Spend more quality time with Baby Boone.
#2 and #3 will be sort of challenging, really. Boy Wonder is quite demanding of attention lately, as the average three-year-old is, and Baby Boone has turned into a very interactive, mobile little guy who is not keen on napping and likes to put everything into his mouth. So playing with one of them while the other does his own thing is not really possibly anymore. Baby Boone is very interested in everything his older brother does, of course, and Boy Wonder alternates between "I want to share my toys with him! Baby Boone, come play on the blanket with me!" and "I don't want him here! These are MY TOYS! NOT YOURS, BABY BOONE!"
#4: Stop yelling at Boy Wonder so much.
Unfortunately, I've heard that many three-year-olds go through a big selective hearing phase, when they blithely ignore Mom unless she's shouting. This seems to be what's going on here. Plus, if he didn't do things like try to run off in parking lots, knock his brother over, and attempt to turn the coffee table into a jungle gym, I wouldn't be inspired to yell so much. But again, he's a very physically confident three-year-old.* I will buy earplugs for my neighbors.
#5: Make concerted effort to fit into array of smaller trousers filling storage bins in closet.
My work wardrobe, if I EVER have occasion to use it again, would quadruple.
#6: Write more.
(Get ready!)
#7: Keep house clean and organized.
You can always give an apartment a cursory cleaning, move to another one, and still get most of your cleaning deposit back. Houses require a bit more attention.
Yeah. We'll see how THAT goes.
*I was startled to find out that not all three-year-olds are physically confident. A former worker mentioned that she'd enrolled her son in a gymnastics program after noticing that he was crazily verbal but not all that enthusiastic about running, jumping, or climbing. It worked out quite well for him and now he's much more confident. I wonder how one gets a three-year-old to display less physical confidence; not even whacking his head on the coffee table seems to deter Boy Wonder. In fact, he's started taking Pretend Falls (thunk. "Oops, I fell down! HAHAHAHAHHAHAH!") lately.
