an observation and a curiousity

Today, Lucky was unhappy with my performance as his mommy.

I had fed him his lunch and topped it off with frosted animal cookies. He had been wiped off with a warm wet wash cloth. The crumbs had been brushed off his lap and bottom into the high chair. He received kisses and hugs. I carried him to the living room and lowered him to the floor. I let him hold my fingers as he stood and took a couple of steps.

All those atta-girls were trumped when I pulled my finger from his chubby little hand and walked away.

shame on me

I won him back. He has forgiven me. I found this show on tv.

He still loves me.


Why do babies stick their fingers in the back of their mouths and gag themselves?

Yes, Lucky is cutting teeth, but NONE of them are in the back. He has no need to relieve pain or irritation way back there.

Stinkerbell was a world-class self-puker. It is the most annoying thing.

Does anyone have a way to teach a baby not to do this?

cuz it seems like something you'd want to know - or not

My tummy does NOT hurt. I don't feel nauseous at all. I haven't had the first cramp. My diet hasn't changed significantly. And still...

I am afraid to fart.

Because I am someone is afraid she'll crap her pants again.

Yes, "again."

I'm addicted

Dora's doggy thinks 1 cup is enough.

go on now, git

I know you watch all kinds of Youtube crap.

Go watch this. It's total NOT crap.

Because I'm certain I'll need someone's help

Remember this? Well, I'm preparing for my weekend o fun, learning to use my new phone.

The Business Partner may have redeemed himself.

We'll see.

Either way, I'll never admit it.

I can't believe I'm posting about this

Obama
Uploaded by krs601

I realize my perspective of my country is affected by my personal experiences. I realize that I'm part of the hated (yet silent?) majority. I realize that the only thing I've got going for me is I'm NOT a white middle class MAN in America.

Yet.

I realize that if I were truly ashamed of my country...

If I hated being a citizen of my country...

If I felt like I would be happier in another country...

I would leave and find that country that might better please me.

I would not try to change the country that has been so successful (I did NOT say perfect OR ideal) to suit MY personal whims.

I would NOT try to force on anyone (other than my own children and husband, and they're mine, so they would just have to deal with me. I'm queen in my home) to my views and expect them to follow along with me because I am ME.

roooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

If Michelle Obama is ashamed of her country, I politely suggest that she find a country that she would be proud of. How about one of the countries that rules by the religious law to which she and her husband subscribe?

I can't believe I'm saying this. I'd rather see Hillary Clinton as our next president than Barack Obama.

But I'm not voting for either of them.

I'm done now, thankyouverymuch.

If you disagree, move along. If you're ugly and hateful and leave mean comments, I'll delete you. I'm interested in discussion. Not arguments. Not hate.

Number 300 (really and it only seems like it)

The "really" part:

This is my 300th post. Sad that I have found the opportunity to sit at my laptop and blather on about NOTHING 300 times over the past two years. Congratulations me. You've wasted a ridiculous amount of time. Your house is still dirty. Move on...

The "it only seems like it" part:

I just got a call from The Mighty Hunter. He asked me to help his CFO with a problem he was having with his Outlook, which will cause me to do the following:

1. change out of my silky warm blue-striped pjs (which I got for $20 just before Lucky's birth - yay me!)


2. put on a bra


3. put on actual clothes that are fit for the public eye


4. wear shoes before time to retrieve Stinkerbell from school


5. brush my teeth


6. fix the mop on my head (which had its platinum highlights covered yesterday, thankyouverymuch)

and an optional #7 - wear makeup.

He also gave me the ironically funny and good news that I get to choose a new cell phone today.

You see, because we own our own business and get a few "perks" in exchange for that ownership and my VOLUNTARY computer work ("voluntary" because I've been paid all of $2000 for it since inception in July 2005), *I* get a cell phone to use play with and all without worrying about the bill.

(Yay, small business ownership!)

Let me explain the "ironically funny" part...

Move #1 - In February 2005, when The Mighty Hunter left The Job From Hell (aka homeowners insurance claims adjusting), we ditched the cell phone company (and 10 year-old cell number) I had. We would be paying for BOTH numbers, and it made sense that it be FREE to call each other, right? We moved me from Verizon to Cingular (aka CRAP). When I moved to CRAP, I was assigned a number that was subscribed to SEVERAL weather text message services. In one week, I received 20 text messages about WEATHER in ANOTHER PART OF THE STATE! And I didn't have a text plan. They changed my number for free. My second number was a great one, very easy to remember 393-6767. Sadly, that second number was the best thing about my experience with CRAP. Even sadlier, that New and Improved number was not a local number for us or my parents or his grandparents or ANYONE WE KNEW or MIGHT CALL US.

Move #2 (or 200, so that my "300" exaggeration is not so impossible) - Later in 2005, TMH's business partner (BP) (who has cell phone ADD issues), decided that he could get us a better package with Verizon (my old cell phone lover). I was able to get a local number. This was an improvement. I got my first Razr. LOOOOOVE the Razr phones. It was not destined to last. Remember the cell phone ADD? (He has bigger ADD issues. We keep him busy with things like cell phone services. It lets TMH run the business, and BP doesn't screw with the network settings and cause me to fantasize about his Accidental Death as a result of being bludgeoned to death by a wireless keyboard, with his hands tied behind his back with a USB cable.) (ahem)

Move #250 - It was January 2006. Hunting season was in full swing (aka the "rut" for those of us "in the know"). Verizon's coverage is poor in the part of the state where TMH and BP hunt. I held my breath. I prayed. I swore - under my breath and aloud. I rolled my eyes. I griped. I got screwed anyway. BP moved us back to CRAP so that he and TMH could talk at the hunting club. The only good part was that I got to port over my local number this time.

Here's a light bulb idea I had... Why not get pre-paid phones to use during hunting season? Then dump service with CRAP when life returns to normal and we can all (me anyway) sleep peacefully with our Razrs?

But no. I was handed a new phone. A crappy phone with CRAP service. I don't remember the phone model. BP claimed it was a $300 phone. I saw the deal - free. It was not a flip phone. It didn't have a camera. I'm not a cell phone snob. Really, I'm not. But when you give me a Razr with a camera and good button size and large read-out from my lover cell phone service provider and then take it all away. Only to replace it with a piece of shi+ phone, that your wife and everyone else who got it hates too, I'm gonna let you know. In my own defense, I gave the phone 3 good weeks of use. I tried to like it. I made so many accidental calls, it was ridiculous. I sat down with BP, and, very diplomatically and kindly, explained that I was unhappy with the phone and would like a different one and so would everyone else. I got a Razr to use with my CRAP service.

Move #275 (which didn't affect me, but should be noted all the same) - The sales reps and drivers and service and warehouse staff were moved to Sprint/Nextel. They've also gotten used to the changes forced on them and are expert at rolling their eyes. We will enter the Olympics with the first-ever Synchronized Eye-rolling Team. Look for us.

Move #299 - May 2007. I got a phone call much like today's. The new phones would be here that afternoon. TMH didn't let BP nickle and dime me. I was getting a Rizr, similar to the Razr but newer and cooler and with a better camera. We were moving to Tmobile. The best part was that we were leaving CRAP and porting our numbers again. I promised to give it a chance. I liked the phone. I liked the service.

Alas. It has been a nice affair. But again, destined to end in heartbreak and disappointment and eye-rolling. We are becoming quite the cell phone company slu+s

Public Service Announcement: You should not let a baby chew on your lovely, cool phone. Even if it doesn't seem to cause any harm the first 25 times. Eventually, the screen will die and it will not power on and it will turn a little white dot under your battery red and will void the warranty. If you are, indeed, as dumb as Beboo and I, and let a baby, regardless of how beautiful and sweet, chew on and drool on your phone, you will quite possibly be carrying around a dead piece of electronics, or a very fragile one that may die at any moment. Beboo's died, mine is fragile and cannot be slid shut harshly and must keep battery fully charged in order to work properly. Don't say you weren't warned...

Drum roll.............

Move #300 - The Mighty Hunter calls this morning. He laughs at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. What else can he do, except cry? Or bludgeon someone to death ACCIDENTALLY with a wireless keyboard? (which is MY IDEA and I'd be totally pi$$ed off if he used MY IDEA!) I don't yet know what my phone choices will be, but I do know what cell company will be getting the pleasure of dealing with this historically unsatisfied and disliking customer...

CRAP.

You know that AT&T/Cingular commercial claim about "the fewest dropped calls?" Total CRAP.

Needless to say, I'm not looking forward to the reunion. I will, however, try some new eye-rolling maneuvers today.

You know how in Biblical times (and in Saudi Arabia) they stoned people for breaking laws? I could probably CELL PHONE BP to death with all the phones that we've used and abandoned and replaced.

300 cell phone companies and 300 crappy posts. It all makes sense now, doesn't it?

Thank you. You may procede with the day you had originally planned.

I've never been a fan of Valentines - yet

After a week of feeling awful, not sure if I could pull it together for the family, not sure if when we would be able to feel good together again... feeling like shit and hating myself a LOT...

We talked last night. I received forgiveness from him. I expressed my sincere regrets and sincereR desire to be who I should be for him and the kids. He reassured me. He still loves me. Always did. Always will. Will never leave me. Never considered it. Never will.

He moved back into our bedroom and out of the guest room. He held me close and rubbed my back, just like I like but never ask him to do.

I still have a long way to go to earn his trust. I still have a lot of work to do to be the person I should be.

I have two callings on my life right now. I am first and foremost to be a good wife. I am also to be a good mother.

The mothering part is easier because they're needier.

The wife part is harder because he is capable of doing for himself. Yet, it is my responsibility to do the things I have been overlooking, to take care of my husband, to serve him in the way that I can (just like he serves me by going to his job daily. so don't get your feminist panties in a bunch.)

I will not be back here a lot still. I will be doing my job.

I've been busy already. I have cleaned out my laundry room. The duct thingy had a hole in it and was blowing lint ALL OVER THE ROOM. I washed the floor UNDER MY DRYER. I have cleaned out my bathroom drawers and thrown away OLD MEDICINE (don't tell The Mighty Hunter, he might faint.) I have cleaned out part of my linen closet. There are 2 large garbage bags full of stuff for the Salvation Army (and certainly more to be found!) I found 6 pairs of shorts for The Mighty Hunter. I found old blue jeans of Stinkerbell's with holes in the knees (now those legs have been cut off for adorable shorts for Lucky. don't tell The Mighty Hunter they were girl pants!)

I also have a little boy who took his first steps. Let me state that accurately... He didn't take his first STEP. He took 5 stepS! He also found his nose and learned to turn around and slide off the bed, backwards, without help.

All of this happened yesterday.

I have to go and move everything up off the tables and put foam on the corners of all the wood furniture.

I also have to go and find something to cook for supper. I have a special Valentine who will be flying to Orlando tomorrow but deserves a special meal. He deserves the very best.

Just when my doubts begin to take over and rule my mind, he steps up and shows me his Heart and gives me a great example of Christ-like love.

Thank you for your very KIND comments and prayers.

looking for myself

I'm unhappy lately. I'm not the only.

I need to make some changes. Live more deliberately. Get my priorities straight.

Keep First Things First.

I've made some mistakes, bad choices.

Repeatedly.

These bad choices are affecting my marriage. My husband's trust of me.

He's not happy with me at all right now.

And I don't blame him.

I'll go ahead and reiterate - I'm unhappy lately.

I will be away from here for a while. I don't know how long. I won't make any promises.

No promises to you anyway. Only to My Mighty Hunter and my Lord.

'Cause they're first in my life and I need to prove it to them again.

I need your prayers.

I don't doubt his love for me (The Mighty Hunter OR the Lord's). I don't doubt their forgiveness either. But right now, I don't have their trust.

But I need that trust again.



...later...

"new math"

"the green mustache" + wheezy cough + baby = amoxicillin and albuterol

amoxicillin + rash = ER trip (sorry to repeat myself, but I'm saving you time) - amoxicillin + benadryl + prednisone = experiment in modern pediatric medicine ==> terribly irritable, excitable, unconsolable, pitiful, fussy, restless, complaining, "please be still and quiet for just a few minutes!" baby

acid reflux + bedtime + mommy = insufficient sleep

insufficient sleep + terribly irritable, excitable, unconsolable, pitiful, fussy, restless, complaining, "please be still and quiet for just a few minutes!" baby = exasperate mommy wishing the daddy would "just hurry the crap home" and give me a break



So, do I go to the store and get the necessities we need to make it through the night? Or do I force some tears and call The Mighty Hunter and BEG him to stop for me.



I think I'll be eating some underbaked, gooey chocolate chip cookies tonight.

I'm just sayin'

a letter, a confession and a guilt trip

Dear Miley Cyrus (aka Hannah Montana),

You are one very special and very talented girl. As the mother of a 7 year-old girl who is growing up entirely too quickly, I am grateful that there is a kid like you out there for her to watch and admire.

A kid who dresses in a way that doesn't make me blush and trigger an imaginary p0rn movie soundtrack in my head. A kid who has clearly devoted a great deal of time and energy into developing her skills (including, but certainly not limited to, singing, dance, guitar and possibly gymnastics.) A kid who dearly loves and trusts her parents to guide and manage her career and life.

I regret that your concert tour was tarnished by the ticket scalpers that succeeded in making more money on a pair of tickets than some people earn in a single year. I would have loved to have taken my daughter to your concert live, but I would rather pay a car payment or 10 with that money.

Instead, we donned our very Revenge of the Nerds style glasses and enjoyed the Most Comfortable Theater Seats Ever (seriously) and pretended we were at your concert. And it was wonderful. I was pleasantly surprised that your voice appears to be as good "live" as on your songs. (You just never know how much someone's voice is tweaked and, shall we say, embellished in the studio.) I do wish you had included the duet with you dad (which totally rips my heart out and brings on the ugly cry, thankyouverymuch Billy Ray Cyrus.)

So, thank you, Miley. We had a great time. Stinkerbell thinks you're the Stuff. And, for now, you have free reign in the Auburn Family Always household. Just be good and watch your step. Don't disappoint these kids that has fallen love with you. Us mommies might just hunt you down and shave all that long, thick, curly, beautiful hair of yours and use it to stuff our throw pillows with it.

xoxo,
Auburn Gal Always

ps - I think the movie theater was a better choice after all. I enjoyed the Most Comfortable Theater Seats Ever (seriously) a lot more than I would have enjoyed standing up for a couple of hours, surrounded by thousands of SCREAMING girls.

------------------------------

Tonight, after seeing the Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus concert movie, Stinkerbell, her cousins, aunt and myself walked through the outdoor mall. We moms needed to get a little retail therapy (or at least think about it, even if we didn't buy anything.) Stinkerbell wore her fancy shoes (gold ballet slippers, courtesy her daddy's indulgence.) For some reason, Stinkerbell finds it more, um, interesting to wear slip-on shoes such as this (or crocs or flip-flops) with her toes in the proper place and her heels on the ground and the back of the shoe sticking out from underneath her in a way that absolutely drives me nuts.

NUTS!

Let me provide some reasons as to why this shoe habit of hers got to me in a BIG make-an-idiot-of-yourself way tonight: It was a cool night. It had rained most of the day. We were outside. It was dark. There's a correct way to wear shoes.

What did I say to encourage Stinkerbell to wear her shoes properly?

If you don't quit doing that with your shoes, I'm going to take your feet away from you.

-------------------------------

Friday evening, a few bumpy-little spots appeared on Lucky. Saturday, the spots seemed redder and larger and started to multiply. By that evening, he had "chafing" around his little legs and hips where his diaper was stretched tightest. The spots were also showing up on his face and neck. He didn't seem to be uncomfortable, and the source of this growing rash had us all stumped. A phone call with a pediatric nurse helped us to determine that he was most likely having an allergic reaction to the amoxicillin he had been taking for almost a week.

Gave him some benadryl and discontinue the amoxicillin and he seemed to improve enough for us all to go to bed.

At 2am, he woke me up. After trying to get him back to sleep, I relented and made him a bottle. While doing so, I noticed the rash was spreading and looking more angry than ever.

My gut told me to get him to the ER. My 2nd-guess said that there were worse bugs to catch by taking him there at that time of night. My prayers asked God to help me sleep if Lucky would be ok and to keep me awake if not.

After sitting up and Just Watching Him for 45 minutes, I lay down and slept till 7.

The rash had not miraculously disappeared. It had spread and was worse than ever. The Mighty Hunter fed him some breakfast while I dressed for the 3 mile drive to our local ER.

I really don't think he and I sat in the chair in the waiting room 2 minutes. There was no one there. It could have been a madhouse during the night, but it was empty this morning. (thank you Lord)

The triage nurse was the one that had snuck me into an actual ROOM (vs curtain area) while pregnant with Lucky and puking from the migraines I suffered. She commiserated with me over such a pretty boy being so spotted and swollen. He was wheezing a bit. (No big deal though, remember the amoxicillin? He had a cold. Colds can make you wheeze.)

The ER doc did a brief exam and prescribed some steroids and sent us home.

I really don't think we were there 45 minutes. (thank you Lord)

His rash is MUCH better. The spots on his face and neck and ears (his ears were swollen!) are G-O-N-E gone. His belly, legs and bum have some dark-ish spots remaining. The swelling is all gone. The redness is gone. The chafed rash at the bend of his legs is gone.

The Mighty Hunter sufficiently distracted him while I took Stinkerbell to the Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus movie. Yet, he was distraught waiting for me to return home. (Lucky was distraught.) (The Mighty Hunter just needed a drink and maybe a little distraught too.) I was greeted by a crying baby who pushed his sweet, little face (sans spots and swelling) into my neck and pinched my goozle and was absolutely relieved by my return.

He went to sleep in my arms quickly and easily. He's sleeping peacefully. He's not wheezing and doesn't look like he has leprosy.

My pretty baby is pretty again.

Proof that I'm a bad blogger? I didn't take the first picture of his spots to share! tsk tsk tsk

As if she (we) needed something else to deal with

Just after Christmas, my mom's pneumonia recurred. It wasn't as bad this time and didn't require hopitalization. Yet, it was there and had us concerned. A visit to the pulmonologist and chest x-rays confirmed the situation.



A bronchoscope was ordered for January 2. Nothing particularly horrible was found. No exotic or drug-resistant bacteria. No cancer. Just normal bacteria, along with some green slimy junk.



It scares me that she had green slimy junk in her lungs. (pulmonologist's words. He was certainly trying to use layman's terms for us. I wish he had just used his big doctor words.)



They vacuumed it all out and put her on yet another round of antibiotics in efforts to kill the green slimy junk.



These were some very cold days. Record lows for Northeast Alabama. fun fun fun



The day after my mom's lung vacuuming, she was home, resting in bed. My dad came home for lunch (not his normal routine.) He arrived in time to find that a water line to the water heater had frozen and broken and was leaking water through the celing everywhere in their living room and kitchen.



It is important and interesting to note that their home is 2-stories and that the living room and kitchen and master bedroom are on the ground floor. The water was pouring from the upstairs. The water heater is in their attic.



Why would you install a water heater in an attic?



That mystery has yet to be solved.



The good Lord's Providence to have my dad at home at that very time prevented the event from escalating into a full-blown flood. He quickly found the break in the line and repaired it.



My mom called and told me of her misfortune. {cue the griping and complaining and self-pity}



I told her what she needed to do next. She explained that my dad (aka mr inventions-thinking-outside-the-box) had said he could get the carpet dried himself. I called him and told him that the insurance would take care of it and to let the PROFESSIONAL WATER CLEAN-UP PEOPLE handle it.



"I know how to clean it up that no one has ever thought of."



{in my head: there's a reason no one has ever thought of it. it won't work.} Let them do the job. You don't have time, and mom can't handle the stress.



"Fine. Call the insurance for me then, please."



So, my experience as the wife of a home-owners insurance claims adjuster (for 10 long years) paid off. I dropped his name to the clean-up crew. They remembered him fondly (the miracles in my life have yet to end.) They brought their many and LOUD fans and air-scrubbers (still trying to figure out how you SCRUB AIR) and began to dry the carpet.



{cutting this long story shortER}



Mom stayed with us off and on for a few weeks while the carpet dried. She couldn't risk being exposed to the mold, mildew and dust.



There we no in-law fireworks while stayed here. (miracle? check!)



The carpet will have to be replaced. Carpet more than 5 years old or so can't be stretched back down. Water soaked under the vinyl flooring in the kitchen and ruined the luan underneath, so new vinyl goes in there. Walls and ceilings get painted throughout most of the ground floor. Cabinets will have to be removed from the kitchen to remove the ruined luan (could result in new countertops and possibly new cabinets.)



My parents are getting a major re-decorating courtesy of the insurance company (less their deductible and upgrades on flooring and the new stove she bought and upgrade to Corian-like countertops).


I've enjoyed my mom (and dad, when he wasn't traveling) staying with us. She has helped me juggle life with a demanding and loud-mouthed 1 year-old and made Stinkerbell feel special.



There is one not-so-small hitch in this redecorating scheme...



Their home has some issues with floor joists being warped or something. There are spots in their floor where there are bumps.



I have busted my chops to line up the flooring and cabinet guys to begin their work Monday morning, bright and early. So, naturally, my dad decides LAST NIGHT (Friday night, about 7pm) that he should get those floor joists repaired or replaced or something while the house is already torn up with this other repairs.



I don't disagree with the "strike while the iron is hot" thinking. Not at all. My problem is that he should have started heating and/or striking this particular iron 2 weeks ago before I lined up the crews. Or AT LEAST before those businesses closed for the weekend!



I think he understood my frustration when I told him that 7pm Friday prior to the work beginning was a little late to START the investigation into this depth of repairs and HE needs to call them first thing Monday morning and reschedule. He would also need to find an apartment for them to live in during those repairs.



Yes, they could stay here. But, to be brutally honest, I like living with the memories of the Miracle of the Overnight Visits with My Parents. Not the nightmare that could haunt me forever when The Mighty Hunter loses his LIMITED PATIENCE and lets loose his alter ego, The Mighty Asshole.



Not that he is an asshole. He just pretends to be one.



You know for comic relief.



And promotion of my dependence on hair color and wrinkle creams.

Ok, well, sometimes, he's an asshole. But I think he prefers the title of Miserable S.O.B.

But aren't most men miserable S.O.B.'s or assholes from time to time? And if you think/say that yours isn't, you're lying or blind or stupid or all the wild combination of all three. Also, you may be drunk or over-medicated.

[ahem]

So, my dad irritated me, and I dropped my General Contractor hat into his lap and Will Leave It There.



This tirade sounds like the title is about ME! and not my MOM! and DAD! Honestly? I'm not too sure.

1

Make a slideshow - it's easy!

Background. And here. A little more here.

Yes, I'm aware that I'm late with this. His birthday was Jan 25. One week late, to be exact. Get over it.

His party was great. He loved the attention and the singing and the candles and the toys and the blocks and the kids and the attention.