Washing is fun

Having a washing machine is such a blessing that I can't even tell you. Thanks to J & T for, well, allowing us to benefit from seriously unfun life upheavals.

Washing machines aside, we went to the new children's museum this weekend and A had a fabulous time. We bought a membership because, well, if the three of us visit twice in the next year, it'll be paid for. I think A and I will go there during the week anyway.

They had a toddlers' gallery that was a virtual forest: trees to climb through and in, big wool boulders and hills to climb on. A liked the clouds on the wall that were all geared together; turn one and a set all rotated together. There was also a fishpond that you could pull back the surface to see the fish underneath.

There's lots of stuff, and it's all hands-on. There was a go-kart ramp with little wooden cars that A loved. Another big hit: a bubble machine surrounded by bowls of soapy water and bubble wands at kid height. Boy, did we have a hard time getting him to leave that. There's a room downstairs that looks like you're in a tank with dolphins, but it's a loud echoing basement room with children screeching like banshees. A wasn't quite so into that.

And I'm up so early because we have to take back the U-haul pick-up used for transporting the washer and go to the orthodontist this morning. C is still snoring away, despite the annoying loud top 40 playing.

His father's son

A and I went to swimming today (A was cranky, cranky, cranky) and then to Sea World. They've just re-opened the children's area, which went from being Shamu's Happy Harbor to the Sesame Street Bay of Play.

The major change is that there are now three actual rides there: a Dumbo knock-off of flying fish, a spinning ride not unlike the teacup ride, and a third that's hard to describe. We went on flying fish last Monday when the Bay of Play opened, but it was pouring and the rides were all shut down before we could ride the other two.

The spinning ride is basically this: you get into a cup-like thing with a wheel in the center. The cups spin around and you can rotate your own cup by spinning the wheel for even more stomach-lurching fun.

Now A has been on one ride, the flying fish ride, which is very gentle and easy-going. He wasn't thrilled; he wasn't scared. It was okay.

But the spinning ride, boy howdy--this is a hit. He got in and started turning the wheel. I didn't tell him to. I didn't show him that it moved the car. He started turning the wheel while we were waiting for the ride to start, got enough motion to confirm that he was moving the cup, and then giggled like mad and kept spinning it. The sheer joy he took in figuring that out, that's C all the way. Then he giggled throughout the entire ride. That might be me.

The problem with twenty-two (!) month olds on rides: they want to go again. Right now. Now now now! Look, all these people just got out and walked away (the fools!) and we can go into their cups and sit before anyone else comes in. Of course, I am from New York and this child will learn the hierarchy of lines and the bellows of hellfire that await cutters. But I did take him all the way through the line so he could ride it again. I think the teacups are going to have to make it back onto our list of things to ride at Disney World.

Washing a go-go

Our washing machine was found dead (or at least maimed) Saturday morning, with the un-agitated wet swim stuff in it. I didn't realize how critical washing machines were to houses with children until ours died.

So we spent some time this weekend learning our local laundromats. The Lucky Laundromat takes top honors for their free (and massive, and hot) dryers. The Corner Wash had better seating but the dryers were more costly and less efficient.

A thinks laundromats are fabulous playgrounds. There's open space to run, vending machines and video games to play with, doors to open and shut, and, best of all, lots of carts that are just his size to push around. He spent a fair amount of time the second day rolling carts into rows, then crashing through them and re-aligning them. Life's almost always fascinating when you're almost two.

The washer may have a baby sock crammed into it or the transmission may be going. I'm not the engineer; I don't troubleshoot this crap.

I've suddenly realized that it's near the end of May and we're almost into June, which means we're going on a trip to CO for a wedding, grandparents, and friends. Woo hoo. I need to get someone to watch the cats. Yikes.

Things that amaze my husband about the boy

• A likes to take his cars and crawl around the floor making "vroom-vroom" noises.
• He expects a parent to accompany him on these treks.
• A allocates the cars. If he hands you the green VW van, then you drive that one, not the purple hot rod he has chosen for himself. If you switch cars on him, he will straighten you out.
• A repeats new words randomly, like "mermaid."
• A loves piggyback rides.
• A likes to roll a ball inside a pan.
• If A gives you a hug, he'll make you look at him so he can give you a kiss too.

In short, A is offering an invitation to play. It's super cute.

Things that amaze me: A turned down a chance to lick the spoon while I was making strawberry jam. I knew we only tried to feed him healthy stuff, but jeez, the kid doesn't even want to lick a spoon while we're making something sweet. Of course, I was able to find a taker for the jam spoon.

First dentist visit

Yesterday. He was great.

First of all, I have to mention how much my dentist's office loves my boy. They do. I had braces when I was pregnant so I was in for cleanings every three months and they saw me get huger and huger. The hygienist was due two weeks before me and our kids are eleven days apart. I scheduled my cleaning to be her first day back after maternity leave. We sent the office a birth announcement. Then the braces came off and I needed a fair amount of post-braces work when the boy was tiny, so they saw him a lot. Now that he's bigger, he can't really go along and sit on my lap when I have a cleaning. (Yes, he did, really.) So they were all excited to see him.

He sat in the chair. He would not open his mouth. He did brush his teeth with the free toothbrush. I think everyone in the office came by to coo over him. They made me take pictures.

The dentist showed off his leet ninja dentist skills by saying to me, "Well, he's got eight teeth upper and eight lower, and everything that I can see looks like it's well-aligned and coming in okay, including the molars. It looks like he's got space for those last four. The teeth themselves look good." Since this was all ascertained by peeking at A's teeth between baby talk and toothbrushing, this is good.

So the teeth are good and we'll go back in six months and maybe he'll open his mouth that time. Maybe.

I know, I know.

It's been a busy life. Sorry.

The grandparents came to town and much fun was had by all. We went all over town: the Maritime Museum, Point Loma, Sea World. A got sick and threw up spectacularly over all of us, with Grandma jumping in like the saint she is to catch vomit with her hands. But he's recovered and we're looking forward to seeing the grandparents again in June.

Milestones: Last Monday, A floated on his back on his own for the first time. This is a huge thing. He didn't do it for very long before he kicked his way out of it, but he's at least started to get the concept of buoyancy. He's moving up to the toddler swim class next session, sniff.

This last week, A discovered his shadow. We were at the fountain in Balboa Park near the Fleet, and he was running around the fountain in lovely circles. He stopped at the edge and I didn't know what he was looking at until I saw him swinging his arms and watching his shadow. He's watching his shadow all the time now.

It's been hot here, like July hot. We went to the rose garden in Balboa Park yesterday but it was so hot we took A in.

Sigh.

I went to the plumeria society cutting sale this weekend, which went great and I had a great time and won more cuttings than seems possible and was given even more, blah blah blah, but one of the people there who I really liked died a couple days ago. Nobody in the society heard about it until her obituary ran today.

She was 53. She'd had breast cancer in 2001 and recovered, but the cancer came back and got her liver before she got diagnosed.

Two months ago, she was joking with me at a plumeria society meeting. She was a very cool lady, sweet and sassy and funny, and I will miss her.

Happy day!

A made it through the night without waking or needing to be snuggled and comforted due to0 immense ear pain, so we're all much, much happier here. I'm not sure he's 100% better, but he's definitely through the worst of it.

Whew.

Boy is sick

We've been having a bad couple days here. A is sick and in pain, enough pain that he's on the occasional crying jag where nothing helps and all he wants to do is cry.

So I took him to the doctor this morning (the choices: 8:10 last night or 8:45 this morning--considering their track record with late night appointments, I decided the morning was better).

No ear infection, nothing wrong with heart or lungs, he's just got a head cold that's giving him ear and sinus pain. Now, you and I can take Sudafed, but the boy has to wing it with saline. Sigh.

He's crying again. We are all apparently Argentina here.

Let's go fly

A picked out a kite today at Costco. It looks like a scarlet macaw. He's busy banging it into every piece of furniture downstairs right now.

I called the airline to buy A a ticket for our flight to CO in June. The woman who got me was brand spanking new and was extremely well-intentioned but completely incapable of getting me a ticket for A. Having done this a couple times now, I know the process:

1. They have to create a completely new reservation for A since adding to ours results in change fees.
2. They have to put in some overrides on whatever the current pricing is to buy another seat with the discount code we bought our ticket under.
3. They have to mark this seat as "infant" and put it through some algorithm to come up with a price that's 50% less than the adult ticket.
4. They have to apply his frequent flier number.
   
5. They have to apply taxes and fees, which makes the price closer to 25% off the adult ticket.
6. They have to add a note to his reservation that says "Infant traveling with parents."
   
7. They have to seat him with us.
   
8. They have to cross-reference our reservation with his reservation just in case the seating changes for some reason and someone tries to seat an infant away from his parents.
9. They have to take the $15 phone ticketing fee off since they don't allow infant seats to be purchased through the website.

This is a little complicated for one's first day of ticketing, don't you think? After a couple game tries, she put me through to a supervisor. I felt so bad for her that at the end of the call, I told the supervisor that the new person had been very kind and accommodating and that she should pass my regards along to her, that I understood this was a weird thing.

This will probably be his last flight as an infant. Sigh.

Easter and whatnot

I've gotten some alone time and seen A be cranky around C, so I'm feeling better.

We tried coloring eggs here but that wasn't happening. I handed A an egg to put in dye. He banged it against the table until it cracked, then threw the peeled egg on the floor. C and I did two dozen eggs ourselves. Maybe next year he'll be more into coloring eggs....

He did much better with the egg hunt we had around the house Sunday morning. We put pretzels in plastic eggs and once he'd gotten into the swing of the egg thing, he was happy. He got one dark chocolate nonpareil. This kid likes the good stuff.

Yesterday we had swimming, which A did fabulous in, really. He kicked and paddled and almost floated but didn't quite. He's close to floating. He smiles and claps and plays along with the songs.

End of my rope

I realize this should be an upbeat, peppy post because it's been so freaking long since I posted, but it's not going to be. This is a mommy angst post.

A is twenty months now, almost. And he's full-on into establishing his independence and testing boundaries and all of that. He runs everywhere and has ginormous amounts of energy from reserves I cannot access.

And I am tired, people. I am tired and worn and run-down and frustrated.

It feels like one step forward, three steps back. When he says "thank you" now, he often adds "you're welcome," which is so freaking cute and endearing. Sometimes he listens very well when I tell him that as we walk down the street, he needs to hold my hand or hold onto the stroller (wall, whatever). And he holds out his hand for me to hold as sweet as pie.

Then he runs into the street in front of a car, or hits another kid in the head with a toy, or tries to bite me when I remove him from the street or the fracas. Then I feel like a complete failure, like this boy of mine will be a terror or a brat or a demon due to my inability to apply the proper parenting techniques at the right time.

And I am so frustrated I could just scream and cry and have my own fit. Does A do this with C? Not really, but C's not with him as much as I am. But maybe C has the big boy voice that makes A obey him. Or maybe A's into daddy worship these days. Or C's a mountain compared to me who scares the crap out of A. I can't decipher this one in my current state.

I know this will pass. I know consistency is the name of this game. Some day A will learn and borrow the car and get Axe body spray. But right now, I feel very frustrated and sad and alone.

First compound sentence

First legible by other people one, anyway, and the first one without signs. (Most of our compound sentences seem to include the signs for "more" and "please.") Leaving the house Thursday night, giving A running commentary on what we're doing: "Now, we have to get your shoes on and get in the car, because we have to go in the car and get Daddy from work."

A runs to the garage door, a shoe in each hand, laughing and saying, "Get Daddy! Get Daddy!"

Mommy the monster

I'm sure all parents have the "oh hell" days, where they realize (after the fact) that their kid has recognized something they had not and parenting decisions were made in error.

This is today for me.

We went to the zoo after A's morning nap. He was walking around pretty well. I offered him his cup, and he didn't want it, which is pretty common, so we walked around some more. He kept signing drink at me, and I offered him the cup, which he threw on the ground.

I got irritated and told him that if he didn't want a drink, he should just put it back in the basket where it belongs. He took the cup out of the basket and threw it, with great vehemence, on the ground, away from the stroller.

I picked up the cup, put it back in the basket, informed A that he had a choice between continuing to walk or riding in the stroller but that he was going to leave that cup alone and if he didn't he would be put into the stroller and we would leave the zoo immediately.

He threw the cup on the ground again.

He kicked and screamed when I buckled him into the stroller but quieted quickly and I walked him out of the middle of the zoo as quickly as possible with no conversation.

We get to the car and what is there? A's sippy cup.

What cup have I been offering him? The one from yesterday with mildew-scented bacteria-laden disgusting nasty water.

Was my boy trying to communicate, hey, Mom, this water is nasty; could you get me some more? Yes. Did I get it? No.

So now I'm going to assuage my bad parent guilt with Mary Poppins and cookies. He's already got fresh water. I wonder what disease he'll get from sipping nasty day-old water.

Wow, he's growing

We went to the doctor for a bad case of diaper rash (which is fine, really, I'm just a first-time overprotective mommy who thinks one week is really too long for a diaper rash) and he's 26.4 pounds (with shoes). He is huge.

He's adding words like crazy. After a visit from L, he picked up "that," which is his new favorite word. Yesterday at swimming he picked up "gog" for goggles. It's hard for me to document what words he's picking up because he's often repeating words when we say them but not replicating them on his own later.

Swimming is going fabulously well, btw. He's this close to floating on his own, which is the next big step for him. He's kicking and paddling through water when we dip him now.

Visitors away

We've had a flurry of visitors from Denver and Portland and now it's back to just the three of us. It's fun to have visitors and we're sad to see them go, but it's also nice to say, ah, what will we do today, just us three?

A is super smart. I know you all knew that. At nineteen months, he has figured out how to get movies to play from a menu by pushing the buttons on the DVD player itself, something C and I don't know how to do (and C is not a clueless Luddite when it comes to technology). That's a milestone right there.

He's into kissing and hugging right now, which is so cute. Big hugs, big kisses.

Niles is fine

Sorry for anyone who has been concerned. We've been hosting our lovely friends the Bumps so there's my excuse for lagging.

Actually, Niles looked fine that evening, although he had a ping-pong ball-sized squishy thing on his right foreleg. They gave him fluids, so I assumed it was just the fluids pooling somewhere. It was gone the next morning, but the vet called to ask if he was okay and I mentioned that he'd had it but it was gone and Niles looked fine.

Oh no. The vet would like to see him. ASAP.

Now, I had planned to clean Wednesday but didn't since we were running Niles around to the vet. So on Thursday when we have this conversation I haven't showered, I am mid-ice-cream-making, and I cannot be there in twenty minutes for a cat who honestly looks healthy and happy.

How about 3:40? Fine. That gives me enough time to shop, shower, wrangle tot and cat, and get out the door in the pouring rain. I drive over to OB, find parking not too far away, and wake a sleeping baby to take him and the cat out in the absolute pouring drenching rain to go to the vet.

Oh, the vet says, a front leg. She thought I meant a back leg and thought Niles could be having a hematoma. The vet feels so bad she ushers me to the door herself, which means I don't have a happy vet tech asking me if I would like help taking the cat to the car. I really could have used the help, but I didn't want to make the vet feel worse, which she obviously did.

Back out into the pouring rain with tot and cat. Rain in SoCal is the equivalent of snow in CO; there are accidents and traffic slowing galore. I get back on the interstate for high speeds of 20 MPH and low speeds of 7. It takes me an hour to get home when it took me twenty minutes to get there.

But Niles is fine. He's gotten a couple days of wet cat food out of this, so he's super.

Cat sitting

Our sweet little white kitty was sick today and gave us a scare. He spent the day at the vet's getting X-rays (number 7, 8, and 9, good lord he'll get radiation tumors soon) and blood tests to discover nothing specific was wrong other than some elevated lipase levels. They gave him fluids. We brought him home and he's been perkier this evening.

A was a psycho demon at the vet's. He got licked by a couple dogs and got to give one treats (heaven!), but man, he's fast and doesn't sit still. He's into everything. He almost shut off the vet's PC while she was showing me the X-rays.

So tomorrow we'll be on cat watch. Poor Niles.

Cat attack

We go to the zoo a lot. The mountain lions in particular are interested in A, as in interested in having him for lunch. If he's out of the stroller and toddling along, a lion will pace back and forth, following him, looking like he's ready to pounce.

Last week, A was running and fell (and cut his palm, poor baby). The lion had been crouching in a corner, but once A fell, the lion jumped up and ran to the front of the cage, right across from where A was. It was frightening. Then the lion continued to stalk him while he cried. I've taken some video; I'll try to remember to put it on YouTube.

ETA:


Today the snow leopard jumped at us. That was scary enough (and fast enough) that I jumped.

Milestone

Today's the day I got caught up in writing and only realized how much time had elapsed when (not to reveal too much information) A handed me a box of condoms. Thanks, sweetie. I'm a first-born too; I get it. I'm popping off to put this in the baby book right now.

Death of a car

C and I drive very old Volvos. Well, we did, except that C's car died. It died died. It wouldn't start. He tried putting the paddles on it to shock it back to life, but alas, it was lost. We towed it to the garage and after the mechanic said, well, so far, I've found that you need a new engine, we said, stop right there and sent the car off to the donation junkyard.

So we're car shopping. My car today decided that it didn't want to change gears, which is a problem since it's an automatic and it's supposed to change gears (you know, automatically).

I know my car is twenty years old and it's tired.

I even had it in my head that I would drive it for ten years, until it was twenty years old, and then I would get a new car.

But now the time has come and I'm just not ready. Sigh.

Have you ever tried car shopping with an 18-month-old? It's short. You can go for a test drive and then you're pretty much done for the day. It's the perfect excuse to get away from slimy salesmen. Why don't women sell cars (aside from that hottie in the Sopranos who took a roll with Tony)?

Anyone have car buying advice? I'm pretty much open to anything.

Hello, officer

A is fascinated with the phone. Fascinated. He'll get a hold of it and push buttons. He's only called one person, I think, and that was on my cell, which I don't let him play with any more. Our home phone is so freaking complicated to use that it hasn't been a problem. There's no intuitive way to dial our phone.

Yesterday he was playing with the home phone. I took it away from him and pushed the End button, and noticed it said, "Line on hold." (Recently we switched phone packages and got call waiting, which I despise.) I clicked over and there was a recording in Spanish. I hung up.

Then we get a call coming through. It shows up as "unknown name, unknown number." I let it ring through to voice mail, which is my standard mode for unknown calls. It's election season in California and we get a lot of unknown numbers calling in the evening now.

They actually leave a message, so I check voice mail:

"Hello, this is the San Diego Police. There was a 9-1-1 hang up call from this number, so we are returning the call. If you are there, pick up. Again, this is the San Diego Police. Please pick up. Since nobody has picked up, we will be dispatching officers to Our Address..."

Oh shit on a shingle. I Google the SD police department and call the non-emergency number. Hello, I am a horrible mother with a one-year-old who can actually dial 911 but we're all fine here, thanks. You don't need to send anyone. I should be leaving to pick up my husband from work soon. I'm not just saying that; we really are fine. It's just me and this one-year-old. We live at the end of nowhere and I'd like to save the officers the trip and minimize the mortification and embarrassment I'm already drowning in.

Then we waited forty-five minutes, which was as long as I could possibly stand to wait, before leaving to pick up C. And nobody had knocked down the door while we were gone, so everything's okay.

But the phones are moving out of reach.

His father's son

We went to the zoo on Friday. We were walking up a pretty steep hill (up to the lemurs from Cat Canyon). A was walking behind the stroller, leaning on both sides. He had a sippy cup that I kept trying to put in the pocket of the stroller. He kept taking it out and fussing with the stroller so finally I stopped to let him do what he needed to do.

There's a rubber L-shaped latch that holds the stroller together when it's collapsed. It's located just above the basket. It's right on A's eye level.

He figured out that he could put his sippy cup in the basket, held upright by the longer arm of this latch. Insta-cup holder for the toddler set.

Does this not sound like exactly something C would do?

No year end in review

Good grief; I don't have time to keep up now.

We're back. We've been back a week. We went to Colorado for Christmas and had a fabulous time. A played in snow and with his cousins, which made him giggle madly.

We're at home now on the downward slope of C's liquid diet. Maybe by the end of this month he'll be back on solid foods.

A and I are back to our daily zoo treks but man, the zoo has been packed. What are all these people doing in our zoo? Anyway, we did finally get to see the new baby panda and the grizzly cubs, so we're all happy on a zoo front.

A has been adding words left and right. Cracker (in CO), car, apple, out.

Unspooling

The word of the day is unspooling, which sounds better to me than unraveling.

That's what today did.

A's not been sleeping well, which puts a strain on everyone in the household. So our morning wasn't great. But I was trying to get out the door an hour before playdate to give A time to nap in the car.

But then C's car wouldn't start. (He's been having battery issues.) So I gave him a ride to work, but that was okay because then A had time to sleep.

A's felt warm to me the past few days, but hasn't registered much of a fever on any of our various thermometers (ear, rectal, forehead). But then he got a purple spot on his ear, which is similar to a purple spot C gets on his ear when he's sick. And A was poking his finger into his ear, which is not something he ever does, so I called the doctor after lunch, thinking he had an ear infection. I leave a message for the triage nurse.

They call me back at 5PM. They could get us in at 7:25PM with the new doctor we've never met.

It's Thursday and we're flying out on Saturday. A is usually asleep around 7:25, in process if not asleep. As ever, I'm at the mercy of the people who run the doctor's office. Sure. What's one more bad sleep night if I know my baby is healthy?

I call C to confer on pick-up times, since he's stranded at work, and he agrees to hang tight at work until I can pick him up. No problem.

A and I get there at 7:20 and are ushered into an exam room, away from the Lion King which is showing in the waiting room. And I think, oh, wow, if you come late, they have their shit together.

There's one board book in this room, a parenting magazine en espanol, two chairs, a rolling stool, an exam table, four drawers and one cabinet with childproof latches. I think this may be what hell looks like to a seventeen month old.

A disarmed the latches and opened the drawers, then amused himself by pulling the stirrups out of the table and putting them back in again. I read the one board book (Spot and Colors). My diaper bag has two toy cars, one squeaky dog, and a cup for short-term entertainment, but it's not equipped for an hour's worth of fun.

I sang him most of Sergeant Pepper's and played chase mommy around the room. We watched the ambulances going by. We rolled the stool around the stroller. We drank water from paper cups. I changed him into his pajamas to take up time. But A was tired, cranky, and wanted to go home.

So after an hour, I gear myself up to parade up and down the hallway, since this is a doctor's office that forgot about us in an exam room once and I don't trust all their neurons to be firing, but then the doctor comes in.

A wasn't too keen on her since she didn't shake his hand properly, but he's certainly against her once she wants to look in his ear.

He's got an ear infection. Great. Two days before we fly. Too late to get a scrip filled tonight to start him on antibiotics ASAP.

At least I had the presence of mind to tell her we were flying on Saturday and could she recommend anything to give him or do to make that easier. She thought about it and then said she'd write me a second prescription.

It's now 8:45 and I still have to go pick up C, who is stranded at work with probably nothing he can eat at all.

I'll be the person at the airport Saturday in the screening line with the screaming baby, the silently-suffering husband with jaw surgery, and the cooler packed with liquids bigger than three ounces because that's just where we all are right now.

I know, I know

We've finished our swimming session. I need to sign him up for the next session but I need to talk to the instructor to find out whether my baby is still in baby classes or needs to move up to the toddler ones (sniff). He still loves swimming. We had a day of classes where he wanted me to let go of him so he could swim. Not quite, little fish.

While C was still off work, he bucked up enough to go to the Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit. The people who spent their lives deciphering them and putting them together put them together with cello tape and sandwiched them in glass, ruining many of them. Oy vey. But it was nice to see them. But they're small, is all I'm saying.

Also, I don't know what brilliant person thought it was a great idea to give people those cordless-phone-like audio tours, essentially deafening them, then put them into a darkened labyrinth together. It was like a demolition derby in there.

C is recovering well from surgery; all his doctors say he's healing remarkably well. He's back at work and not complaining very much about his boring liquid diet, even after he found out he couldn't drink from straws.

I wish I could say we've been sacked with Christmas preparations but it's been fits and starts here. It was 50/50 online versus hands-on here, I think, although the balance may have shifted in favor of online today. I miss having a tree, but with going to CO and leaving the cats in charge for a week, we'd come back to a dead tree, broken ornaments, and sick cats.

A wants to walk everywhere and doesn't want to hold my hand. Okay at the park, not okay at the post office. I'm getting a baby leash. I just don't think he's got the impulse control yet to hold my hand everywhere and I don't want to confine him to the stroller. I'm curious as to how the airport will be.

A side note on Santa

I bought A a "trimming the tree" Christmas board book last week. The last page has a "don't forget to leave treats for Santa" theme, which is fine and dandy, but then when you look at the picture, it's not milk and cookies on the mantel.

It's a meat pie and a glass of red wine.

Fallen by the wayside

For all you out there who are wondering if we're still alive, we are. C is recovering. A is coping. I am having serious sleep deprivation issues. A and I have been sleeping in another room to cut down on the interruptions in C's recovery sleep, and last night we tried to all go back to our normal places. No dice. I'm truly tired, tired, tired.

But we were the only ones in swimming today, and he was happy and awake for that. We've got to go to C's follow-up doctor visit shortly. Hopefully he'll check out fine. C's getting more active and awake but he's just so tired.

I've said this many times before...

...but single moms, I don't know how you do it. Really.

I'm tired. Nobody took my jaw apart this week so I have no right to complain, but I'm tired. I didn't realize how active a sixteen-month-old was until I didn't have a break from him. I'm having a break now because he and C are taking a nap together, which is apparently the only way A feels like napping right now.

Our schedule's all out of whack. Today A got a flu shot and he wasn't thrilled about that but he didn't cry. He's at 22 pounds, 14 ounces, I think. Maybe it was 23. I can't remember, that's how tired I am.

A wants to know why he can't play with Daddy. He wants to know why Daddy won't read him a book. He's a little sick of me. He's watched more Pixar this week than he ever has, unfortunately.

C is getting better. He made himself a banana chocolate milkshake for lunch and he's been reading. I'm mildly concerned about the state of his painkillers since he seemed to go through the first bottle pretty quickly, but we got a new bottle today and so hopefully that will last until our follow-up on Monday.

He can see how frustrated I am with A and being nursemaid and is trying to help, which makes me both happy and sad. I am not cut out for nursing.

Surgery and babysitting

A's currently asleep; C's in a drug-induced fog but getting more coherent, and I'm upstairs taking precious shower time to blog.

C's surgery went well, although I don't know why they sent him home other than they didn't want to deal with him. He's not as swollen as I thought he would be, although he was really out of it last night. He slept and snoozed from the time we got home (5-ish) until this morning. Then he came down to the couch, where he's presently snoozing. He's having a hard time talking still. He's kept down juice and Ensure so far, so maybe we'll move up to milkshakes later today.

A had his first day ever not being watched by C or me or family. We were gone from 10AM to 5PM and he did great with our lovely neighbor, the exact kindly old lady type you want watching your kid while you go the hospital (if Grandma and Grandpa aren't available, of course). He took naps like an angel, had walks, read books, and ate food. Life was good. He was a happy little guy--he's always a happy little guy. He cried when C and I came through the door and put priority on getting pain meds into C instead of snuggling and cuddling A. Then A cried and cried while our neighbor tried to comfort him while I put C to bed. She did get him to quiet down, but he wasn't really happy until he got some mommy cuddle time. He's still perplexed by why Daddy's not quite into things--A's erratic in movement and strong, which are two things we don't want colliding with C's jaw right now.

A and I bedded down in the office together to let C have the big comfy bed and the vaporizer and bathroom. We even closed the door to the bedroom to lock the cats out, who came and slept with me, although they did sniff and pace in front of the bedroom door when I walked through to let me know that they were Not Happy with being banned from what they must consider their room. It has the bed and the sunshine, after all.

A and I will be going out to get surgical-related things (hydrogen peroxide, saline spray, more Ensure in milk chocolate flavor) when he gets up from his nap. We've got a follow-up appointment with the doctor Monday, but think happy healing thoughts for C.

Happy Thanksgiving

A little late, but that's what you get.

A is running around the house with a brush and dustpan. He's into running with long stick things: big magnet on a stick, lambswool duster, rolls of wrapping paper.

Tomorrow C's having surgery, so we're doing errand-y stuff today like stocking the house with meal replacement drinks and cleaning things so it's not quite so bad in here.

C and I went to swim class yesterday and that was super. A splashes more with his dad than with me.

Boy is sick

We had swimming today but didn't enjoy it. (I'm not liking the new teacher; she's trying too hard.) C and A were up all night with A's coughing. (I slept like the dog I am--or like a tired mommy who's had a couple days of 24 hour baby watch under her belt, you pick.) I drove A around yesterday for three separate naps. He didn't get nearly enough sleep, though.

A and I went to the doctor to see if it was croup. It's not now and hopefully won't become so. (Usually, he'd have croup by now if he was going to get it.) I made the doctor laugh by asking if that wasn't something out of Anne of Green Gables and did people still get croup. Apparently, yes. The doctor's office kept us waiting for 45 minutes before the doctor would see us. I know they get backed up, but 45 minutes is crazy with a sick toddler.

C discovered that Pictionary fits perfectly under the crib mattress to prop it up. A was crying not too long ago. I'm hoping he's asleep now.

Back from Portland

I must say, I love seeing the divine Miss M and her parents and sister, but I just can't stand the post-visit cold. This time it's a cough and a runny nose instead of severe intestinal distress, thank God, but we ran out last night to get a vaporizer since A was having trouble breathing for all the mucus. Poor boy.

We had a lovely time. We flew Southwest, which has eliminated their pre-boarding process for families with young children, and boy, were we beholden to the kindness of strangers in its wake. On the first flight, a woman gave up her posh second row seat for us, while a nice man put my bag in the overhead and another person kept A occupied while I attached the car seat. Wonderfully kind people.

Coming home, we got to do Southwest's new check-in procedure, which doesn't help much. You get a number when you check in and then you stand in a line that's been marked with these numbers. I checked in exactly 24 hours before our flight and I got number 19 on the first leg and 22 on the second leg. What the hell? Well, at the airport, I discovered that 1-15 are reserved for business class passengers. So the numbering for us plebeians "starts" at 16. Anyway, there wasn't hardly anyone in the 1-15 range on any of my flights, but everyone I talked to asked me why I wasn't pre-boarding and wasn't Southwest dumb for getting rid of pre-boarding for infants.

I know. You want to know about the baby. What did we do? We went for sushi, we played in playgrounds and parks, we met a Corgi named Freddie, we went to Powell's (sigh, Powell's), and we went to a book club meeting. We played in M's gorgeous huge house with all her toys. We ate good food and even sweet potato fries. So it was fabulous and great.

C's at work now (sigh). A really missed his dad and had a hard time getting back to sleep every night when he woke up and Dad wasn't there. Sad. He's pretty cranky and fussy now, and I must say, I'm getting to my last nerve. I didn't realize how much I need a break, even if it's just an hour of being in the next room.

New skill

A is moving right along. He was climbing into things he shouldn't have been this afternoon, and I said, "Hey, can you find Brown Bear, Brown Bear and bring it to me?" He stopped, looked around, picked up Brown Bear and came over to me. He does speak English!

Discovering magnetism

Yes, all you geeks out there will be thrilled to hear A has discovered magnetism.

I have a large, powerful magnet (a little smaller than a hockey puck) on a long stick to pick up stray pins after sewing. It lives under the stairs. A found it today and stuck it to the railing of the stairs, which lit his little face up like Christmas. Then he had to get it off the railing, and that got him frustrated enough that he started yelling in frustration at the end. We let him figure it out and he did get the magnet off the railing. He also discovered in the process something about how levers work.

Then he walked over to me, brandishing this stick which is longer than he is, and stuck it to his high chair, where he left it. Magnets might be neat-o but the attention span is just not that long right now.

Photos and walking and plumerias, oh my

The boy is walking. We've had a whirlwind of a weekend. Saturday we cleaned and saw our Navy pilot's photos from around the world, and that was fabulous. A sat down in his lap and handed him a book. Don't know what it is about that family, but the babies and animals love them.

This morning we did a photo shoot with my decreasingly-amateur and increasingly-professional photographer mom friend, but A was unhappy. He wanted to nap and run around. He's walking now, so walking is everything. It's like the entire world looks different to him and he has to stop and inspect everything. He seems to think we've been holding out on him. He's getting fast, too. We're going to be spending a lot more time in parks and playgrounds from now on.

This afternoon I had the last plumeria society meeting of the year. Some people lost houses and animals; it's horrible. But some people didn't. We had lunch and a big raffle and I won three times, two plumeria cuttings (a Samoan Fluff and a Rebecca's White) and an orchid. So there you go.

The people at our local Trader Joe's recognize A and say, "You're not with Mom today," when C does the shopping. How do you like that?

Official walking

I know I've been saying that he's walking, but A is really walking now. He's spent the last half hour walking around this room, squatting down, picking something up off the floor and bringing it to me. He's also walking around with a headset in his mouth. It's pretty darn cute.

Boy am I glad we don't have TV

I'm sure we'd just be glued to it watching people's houses burn down. The internet is bad enough.

So far, we're not in immediate fire danger. There are a lot of houses and highways between us and the fires. It's getting smokier all the time. Monday we went to the zoo and I was coughing and wheezing for the rest of the day. Yesterday we had swim class, hit the Trader Joe's, then came home and stayed in. It smells pretty strongly of smoke even inside now. I hit my inhaler last night before I went to bed. A seems mostly unaffected. He's not getting as much outside time as he normally gets, so we're getting a little cabin-punchy here. Let's hope for rain and less wind.

C's been off work this week; we'll see if he makes it in today. His workplace is closer to the evacuated areas than I would like.

Fires and excitement and more

I knew Dumbledore was gay since J. K. put him in a purple velvet suit to pick up old Voldy from the orphanage.

There are fires in SD county right now, and the only place I've found that gives a nice comprehensive map is here. There's a lot that would need to be burned through before we'd get evacuated. I'm actually more concerned about the Wild Animal Park right now since it's close to them, but being all by itself with a lot of land in the high desert I'm hoping they have well-laid plans for fires.

We took A out on a boat at the Maritime Museum yesterday and followed it up with ribs. Boy does he like ribs. Little carnivore.

Oh, and research

I've signed A up to be part of a research study where he's going to sit in a room on my lap and watch a screen with pictures of him and another baby while they monitor what parts of his brain light up. This is next Wednesday. Apparently they're batting 50/50 on babies who are willing to wear the hat with the gel and the brainsuckers on it.

Walking, walking, and scary hippos

Yesterday A walked all the way from "his" cabinet in the kitchen to the couch, while holding a pan. It was impressive, and he knew it, and he grinned the whole way. So we're bobbing along into toddlerhood here.

We went to the zoo Monday and got scared by a hippo. The hippo was underwater right in front of us. It looked like it was trying to kiss us through the glass, then it yawned and man, do hippos have scary snarly vicious teeth. A began waving, which is his new way of telling me he's done and bored with something at the zoo. He waves bye-bye.

Weekend insomnia break

A's really not been sleeping well. He ends up in bed with us and then I can't sleep next to the two snoring boychiks. So off I go around the house like a ghost in the night to find someplace else to sleep, which is difficult.

It's very tiring.

I don't know why he's sleeping so poorly. He's still got teeth coming in; he's also keen on the walking right now and the books say (stupid books) that kids wake a lot when they're working on new things.

What did we do this weekend? We bought new sleepers because his old ones looked like sausage casings. I realized how out of practice I am at buying baby clothes because I didn't check the fiber content on the sleepers. I realized when we got home that three of them were polyester. So back we drove to the outlets to exchange them for cotton ones. Now he has three sleepers in the same penguin pattern and two with the same dog appliqué, but that's okay. I was just happy to find footed zipper sleepers for him in the 18 month size.

Swimming and playdate

We had swim class Tuesday. It was fabulous. The other student missed last week too. A's getting really good at holding his breath. He just needs to float on his back and we'll be off to another level of class. I'm not actually eager to mix him in with the toddlers yet.

He's walking in spurts. I think the biggest gap he's crossed has been six feet. He hasn't decided that walking's faster than crawling yet. It's still a party trick.

Yesterday we had playdate. The boys (and they suddenly are boys, not babies) wanted to hit each other. L hit A on the head many, many times, then A grabbed L by the bridge of L's nose, right between the eyes. Ouchie. It was crazy. I'm not sure I signed up to have a toddler. L is much, much farther along on the toddler spectrum, though. A was still pretty easy-going; L was outright contrary to his mom sometimes. It's coming, I know.

New word

Down. As in, "Get down, Niles." Good grief. That actually started this weekend.

He spent yesterday walking across gaps. It's amazing what English he understands. He was sitting across the room from me and I said, "Come on, walk over here to me," and he got up and started walking. He almost made it, but did we just need to ask him to walk all this time?

Also in cute behavior: he now waves at the animals in the zoo when we say hi and bye. "Hi lemur!" Wave wave wave. "Bye panda bear!" Wave wave wave.

Weekends and sickness and walking

The Misses D, E, and M were in town this weekend and we had a lovely time with them, even though my car broke down again (radiator reservoir cracked at the bottom). At least my car waited until D and crew were ready to meet us. Play date with L was moved to Saturday and K brought a Greek feast for lunch, which was nice. We had Saffron and Bronx Pizza and the Mission and all those local type places people who move to Portland can't get there. So that was fine and lovely. I can't believe how well M walks. It's amazing. She glides. She might be the most graceful toddler I've ever seen.

Exactly at the time they left (about 5AM Monday), I got sick, violently, gastrointestinally sick. During breakfast, A got violently sick too (all over C, since I was already in the bathroom being sick myself). A and I were both so incredibly nastily sick that I'm sparing you the details because the details might make me sick again. I was so sick that lying on the floor next to the bathroom was as much as I could do. I ended up putting down old blankets and towels to lessen the mess from A. C went to work but then got called back home when I realized I couldn't be sick, have A sick, watch A and clean up all our sick messes at the same time, especially when one of us doesn't walk and can't make it to the bathroom. C came home and I went to bed. Neither of us could keep anything down for about seven hours. C seemed to have dodged a bullet yet again. A and I are slowly making our way back to the world of solid food.

Unfortunately, Monday morning my monitor didn't work, and that was the last of the monitors in this house, so no email for me. I wasn't seriously up for it until yesterday. I used C's computer which doesn't let me blog, for some strange reason. C got a loaner from work for the short-term, so that's why I can blog now.

Anyway, yesterday morning, A is burbling happily with me and C in our bed, then crawled down off the bed and started walking off towards the office. C and I started clapping about four or five steps into this display and A promptly fell down. But he's walking across three-foot gaps now like nobody's business. He's such a weird kid sometimes. He's not really w0bbling or anything. He's just walking. It's like he's been practicing when we're not paying attention.

Don't know where he picked it up...

...but A shakes hands now. We didn't teach him. I was someplace I can't remember now where we were all shaking hands and A held out his hand to the person we were greeting. I wish I could remember where we were when he did that.

He did it again today at the doctor's office. It's so strange what he picks up.

His latest favorite things: watching airplanes and helicopters. He hears a plane and holds a finger up to the sky. If he's near a window, he peeks his head out.

We have a "Little Golden Book" but A is not impressed with it. He is impressed with the picture of the Pokey Little Puppy on the back cover, so we'll have to get one of those.

First Day of Autumn

Sunny SD was supposed to get a major storm, with thunder and lightening and everything, and we got maybe an hour's worth of rain on Saturday.

I'm writing this from my old screen that was SO BIG ten years ago when C and I got hitched and now looks so tiny and quaint. A threw a book at my beautiful flatscreen last Friday and that was the end of it. You can actually see the impact site (and not much else). No workee. Sigh.

Friday I wanted to join the circus. Friday night A didn't sleep and both C and I wanted to join the circus Saturday morning. Last night was better so we're all still here and A is not banned to a cat carrier, which has been the follow-up threat.

But we're still keeping him.

We went to Sea World Saturday and looked at the penguins and puffins, which were fascinating to A. A played in one of the sand play areas with a shovel and bucket. A pair of Sea World employees came through the play area, walking an arctic fox on a leash. This was super cool until the fox started pissing in the sand box. Really. I'm trying to be as dirt-friendly as I can be with A, but after that I felt like jumping on A every time he went to eat the sand. The employees did nothing but look slightly abashed.

At least he'll have immunity to arctic fox things or be a candidate for a very special episode of House where the little baby gets an arctic-fox-transmitted parasite from a play area.

It was some whoop de doo music weekend at Sea World. A loves music. He starts bopping his head and clapping. We ran into a R&B band on our way out and listened to them for a while since A enjoyed it so much. His new favorite word is, "Look!" which is usually "Look look look." This is accompanied by a lot of pointing.

How's the walking? He's doing two or three steps on his own now, not a ton. His confidence is still not there. He's trying to walk in hard places, like sand and on the bed.

Today A and C went on the carousel while I was at my plumeria society meeting. I won three more cuttings in the raffle. I should go buy a lotto ticket.

Walking

We had a lovely weekend (although I wanted more sleep today). We had lunch with J&T Saturday on Coronado by the pretty pretty water, had a picnic at the Presidio yesterday and visited the museum there.

A's been on the cusp of walking since his birthday. He's taken steps on his own between C and me (and between pieces of furniture and each of us where he's not holding on), but it doesn't seem like walking. He's got no problems with the strength or coordination or balance; A's just not convinced yet that he can walk. It's completely cognitive.

But that may be a-changing. Yesterday he kept standing up from a squat (on a steep hillside) and taking a step or two. So he's really close. He just has to decide that he knows how to walk.

Why does he always figure this out when I'm not looking?

Pencils.

He just figured out how to make marks on a piece of paper with a pencil.

Pens and pencils have thus far been oblong tapping things of no special significance.

Now we're in trouble.

the banana bread incident

Today I thought we'd have some Mother-Son baking bonding time. There were a couple bananas left over from A's bout with herpangina when he was only on liquids, but they were banana bread-tastic.

I put the bananas in a bowl, gave A a spoon, and showed him how to mush them up. He thought this was super, didn't fling too many everywhere, and did a good job. (I say "Good job!" four hundred million billion times a day now.) I put together the rest of the batter, and A happily stirred and ate banana mush.

Then it was time for the bananas to be added to the rest of the batter. Oh no, lots of screaming. Screaming at a volume and pitch I didn't know he was capable of. I showed him how I was adding it to the big bowl of batter, and he tried to eat the batter. Of course, it has raw egg in it and of course, I've read Marion Nestle's What to Eat so I'm no longer eating batter with raw eggs. So I explain to him that he can't eat it and that there's salmonella and the rates of salmonella poisoning have increased exponentially since I was a kid so I'm going to have to get pasteurized eggs for him to eat batter, and then I realize I'm trying to explain salmonella to a one-year-old.

I can't wait for him to have language.

Serious boy

We had swimming today. A wanted to sleep. He spent a lot of time with his head on my shoulder.

He also banged his face on the floor this afternoon, giving himself a vicious bloody lip. Once he got over the whole blood in the mouth thing, he didn't seem to mind. Now he's yelling his head off and refusing to go to sleep. Oh dear, I think we're in for a napping drive-by.

Last week, we went to a swimming instructor training session. They had a guest teacher in to teach their swimming instructors new techniques. A didn't trust her. Maybe it was the late hour, but every time she tried to take A for a demonstration, he'd start to wail. He'd let our normal swim instructor take him for a swim, but not the new lady.

The molars are almost through. Whew.

Car seat drama

It should be car seat trauma. We bought a cheaper, smaller car seat for C's car because we know we'll be traveling by plane in the next year (or two or three) and the grand seat doesn't fit in plane seats. I know that seems silly but these seats are huge.

Buying the smaller seat was its own comic farce where we discovered no convertible car seat fits in the center seat of C's car after we'd taken back the smaller seat on the grounds that it didn't fit. Then we ended up back in Target five hours later buying the same seat we'd returned earlier that day.

The problem is that A cries when he sits in this seat for very long. It's not as well padded, the angle and width of the seat is such that his head goes to an uncomfortable angle when he's sleeping. But all of this is nothing against the fact that he cries when he's awake and in the seat. Our guy is pretty easy-going and often sleeps in the car. Crying means something's wrong. He cried all the way back from the Wild Animal Park last week, which I thought was because he was still sick. But he cried just as much yesterday when he's perfectly well.

So yesterday, after listening to much crying while driving around doing normal Saturday errands, we decided to get another swanky car seat and keep the other seat as a travel one. This means we'll be scraping for the next couple weeks to pay for the seat, but A actually burbled happily in the new seat yesterday so it's worth it.

There was drama in buying it. It was like a what not to do for customer service. We wanted to buy it at Target, since the color at Target matches C's car better. Can you check to see if you have one in the back, I ask the Target person who comes to the little beep. Sorry, ma'am, we don't do that. (Funny, the manager I talked to a week ago did.) But take this number to Guest Services and they'll check other stores for you. Oh, the computer's not working at Guest Services. But the Guest Services person will give me the phone number of the other Targets so I can call and find one there. (Not so they can call. So I can call.) I actually called another Target before I finally got through to someone who said, "Okay, I'll check, no I don't need the number," and then hung up on me. So we bought the car seat at the baby hellhole and I think I'm going to write a letter to Target explaining why I took my $220 to their competitor.

The other baby drama is that I fed A some Kashi multigrain crackers and he had a minor allergic reaction to them. Of course, they are 12-grain crackers and it's impossible to troubleshoot from there. So he's back on less-grainy crackers and we'll try and figure which of the 12 grains he's allergic to. He loves crackers right now.

Baby food news: he loves, loves, loves the Peach Perfection All-Fruit smoothies from Jamba Juice. I had a strawberry one and he thought that was okay, but once he had a bite of C's, oh my, that was it, lots of frantic and insistent pointing to C's cup. Once he figures out straws, we'll be in serious trouble. I think he ate a third of C's smoothie.

Labor Day Weekend Update

Wow, more than a week! It's been damn hot here. It felt cooler last night and so I'm hoping things have taken a turn for the less broiling.

A was sick for most of last week. This ended up in a couple days of non-stop crying and screaming which was enough to drive me around the bend. The poor guy just didn't understand that I couldn't fix his poor sore throat. C would get home and I'd be jabbering to myself and unable to communicate.

Thursday our dear friends showed up, which was lovely. A got over his sickness before they left so he was back to his cheerful little self. We went to the Wild Animal Park, the bookstore, the farmer's market and IKEA. It's wonderful having them visit and we miss them madly now.

A and I had swimming yesterday. It was lovely. There's only one other kid in the class, an 11-week-old who looks tiny. It's amazing the difference a year makes. We may be going to another lesson this week as part of a training session for new swim instructors. A's such an easy-going guy that I think he'd be up for another swim lesson this week.

I've been up since 4AM and I'm not thrilled about that. But it's nice and cool, at least.

And just because I can't possibly milk enough sympathy for my baby....

When we got into the exam room, the assistant informed us that she wanted to set up a urine collection bag just in case the doctor needed a sample. Okay, I say, since I really don't know what's wrong with my kid.

She swabs down all A's bits with iodine solution, then puts a glorified ziplock with a round self-adhesive seal over all of A's bits. Then we seal it into the diaper. The plastic bag was probably as big as the diaper. It could not have been comfortable. I haven't stuffed a Hefty bag into my undies to check, but it seems wrong.

Of course they don't need a sample. Before we leave, I stop the assistant and say, "Do you need a sample? If you don't, could you remove the bag?" Watching poor cranky A get a bandaid airlock taken off his most tenderest of tenders was just about as much mommydom as I could take today. (I know, there are parents with kids in cancer wards and hospices...this is just a band-aid. I know! Still doesn't mean I like seeing my baby uncomfortable.) Next time you take a band-aid off, think about how much more worrisome adhesive is south of the border.

My baby's got what?

Herpangina. Boy are there diseases that give you the shivers just hearing the name. Nothing to do with herpes or angina, this is a virus that causes painful little blisters in the back of the throat. It apparently causes such mind-numbing pain that babies can't chew, which is why A left his O cereal untouched for the first time ever this morning. It's big in the summer. The doctor thinks the fever's peaked out on day 3 and so we're just riding this out for another three or four days.

Doctor's orders: fluids, cold smooth foods, feeding for comfort and not nutrition. Os and turkey are out, milkshakes and applesauce (and breastmilk, even though I was trying to cut back on the comfort nursings for mommy snuggles) are in. It's a virus, so we wait it out. Argh.

He's crying and unhappy and cranky all the time. It's so sad when there's nothing to do for him. Nothing makes him feel better.

Foggy weekend

I spent a lot of this weekend sick, so it's a blur to me. Saturday morning I was in a stupor while we went to the baby hellhole and bought another car seat for A. We got a Britax Roundabout. It's ugly. I blame it on being sick and not wanting to go anywhere else. I went home and fell asleep for another couple hours with Jake (a sign placed upon my cat read "Come back to Jake-maka. Vacancy: 1." So I'm sure I was a treasure to be with.

But A was complaining every time we put him in the seat, which probably meant he was too big for it and as such needed a bigger seat. Another seat will be purchased for C's car once it gets back from the shop.

A is running a fever again today and has several molars glinting through his gums right now, so he's been cranky today. I've been more coherent today, which is good. If he's got a fever tomorrow, he's going to the pediatrician's.

I was coherent enough to go to the plumeria society meeting and actually win a 'Duke' plumeria cutting (which I'll try to find a photo and link to) and some plumeria seeds. Yes, plumerias have seeds and I'm going to try and start seedlings. Whoa. And the plumeria show and sale is in two weeks so I'll be plumeria crazy all around.

A likes ribs

Yes, it's true. The boy doesn't like plain meat, just smoked and BBQd. Video on YouTube.

No swimming today

The pump broken down, so the pool had to be closed. Sigh. The good news is that I already scheduled a make-up session for A this Friday. The bad news is that I left early so A could get a nap and so I drove all the way to Belmont Park and woke him up only to discover there were no classes today.

We had a good weekend. I have to clean. We are in desperate need of bookshelves and I have to sort through a stack of files before I throw out a lateral file.

Jury Duty

At playgroup this week (which should almost be renamed "A and L have a playdate" but hope springs eternal), I saw a jury duty summons. K and I had a discussion about how she and her hubby have had to go every year for as long as they've lived here.

I said, gosh, isn't there an exemption period if you've served? She said no, one year.

So today in the mail, what did I spawn with my idle chatter about jury duty? That's right, a jury duty summons. The paperwork actually says I'm exempt from jury duty for three years if I've served as a sworn juror, which, of course, I have. And I blogged about it so I have the dates, yay!

Stupid bibs

Yesterday the NYT had an article saying some of Toys R Us's baby bibs were contaminated with lead. Unfortunately, they're the ones A has. Bleack.

Duly motivated, I took A for his lead screening, which is a normal part of the 12-month checkup but I just hadn't gotten around to doing yet. The phlebotomist was not the best we've ever had, but A was a superstar. The guy stuck him in the arm, lost the vein, moved the needle around for twenty seconds to find the vein while A watched (not screaming). I was about to scream myself but settled for asking with the right amount of umbrage and studied casualness: "Do you want to try his other arm now?"

"No, I've almost got it," he said, and in a second, yes, he did. A did not yell or cry during any of it. When I put him in his stroller to go, he pulled his band-aid off. The guy gave us another band-aid and taped it to A's arm.

The window where A used bibs was actually pretty small, but it still makes me nervous. I'm about to go throw out all his non-German toys. I think the Germans are the only ones left I trust.

The fever is down

So we'll hopefully get to avoid the doctor this week. A's currently trying to make clicking noises with his tongue because I can. He's also found a set of calligraphy markers that I'm letting him play with in a fit of parental insanity. He can't take the tops off of them and I'm not sure he knows the tops come off of them. He'll figure it out as soon as I look away.

I took him to the zoo this morning to take a nap. He fell asleep (of course!) on the way to the car. I managed to get him into the car seat without waking. I picked up some In-n-Out, ate in a parking garage and read books. When A woke up, the engine wouldn't turn over. Call C, say, "Hey, is this a dead battery thing?" (I get all stupid-girl about the car. I try not to, but I'm honestly only hoping it goes most of the time.) Yeah, probably battery, C says. (I do not mention that C owes me jumper cables.) I call AAA, ask for a jump, a new battery salesman, and possibly a tow truck. They're as friendly as can be.

Then I put the key in the car, and it comes on just fine. Call them back--not realizing in my brilliance I have programmed the number into the phone--and cancel. Come home, feed boy. Now he's working on climbing on top of my desk. Boy, he's scary.

Completely random

So I was reading a L&D nurse's blog (pointed to courtesy of Jennifer, thanks!). Recently she's got a collection of birth stories there; one of which had the most beautiful term for a sunny-side up (OP) baby like Mistah A here: Sternengucker (German) or "star gazer." My little star gazer! How fab!

Fevers and doctors and pedialyte, oh my

Our boy was running a fever today. This is notable because I've got the mommy touch now, you know, the put a hand on the forehead and say, "You're hot." I thought he was hot at swimming, then later thought he was hot as I was considering an outing. So I took his temperature and sure enough, he was running a low grade fever (100-101°F).

He's had some intestinal issues over the last week and he's got a cut on his finger (which I think is him biting himself), so I called the doctor's office. They think it's a virus. Tylenol for the fever, Pedialyte for the intestinal issues; they'll see him if he runs a fever for three days.

The mommy touch comes from touching a baby all the time. You get acclimated to what they should feel like. My guy's hot like his dad, but fever feels different.

His ezcema seems to be doing somewhat better, although he's still getting slathered with lotion for some rough patches. Swimming today didn't seem to make it worse.

Saturday at the doctor

Today A had a rash on his sides (right where you would hold him) and it looked like it was spreading to his tummy. He didn't seem bothered by it, but it bothered us. Long story short, we went to the pediatrician's and he's got a mild case of eczema.

The doctor thinks it was brought on by swimming with a wet suit. He said we should keep A moisturized and use 1% hydrocortisone on the rashy bits.

I'm quite annoyed, because my father had nasty, severe eczema and eczema is hereditary. I was pretty happy when A had no signs of anything relating to my father. I thought I was mostly over my cheap self, but then this happened and I thought, great, eczema, one more asshole thing the stupid sonofabitch can do to me (which is kind of funny, now that I see it written down like that). I don't like it when my daddy issues rear their ugly heads. It's not often that they do nowadays, but man. I had the same gut reaction that I would have if someone slapped A.

But I'm trying to cut back on my completely irrational and crazy lines of thought like that, and identifying something as crazy is the first step towards leaving crazy. Also helping with crazy: getting more sleep, like now.

Swimming blahs

Today's make-up swim class wasn't great. We had a sub since our regular teacher is on vacation (thank God, because I thought she'd never get one) and the sub didn't really know how class went and winged it. So A was a little confused but game. He did okay except for when she moved him around without really watching where he was and he ended up a little submerged and drank some water. That wasn't cool. She normally teaches the three- and four-year-olds so I'm guessing she just had issues adjusting to the babies. (One of the things she wanted them to do was shout, "Hooray!" They don't shout on cue yet, lady.)

But A grinned and grinned when he saw the pool so that's good.

A has had some nasty diaper rash going that's made him now wiggle and squirm like, oh, an electrocuted puppy every time I try to change him. On the last change, I apparently twisted something in my back by my left clavicle and now it's difficult to turn. Hmmm. Parenting is a full-contact sport.

Oh crap, he's climbing!

As I type this, the wunderkind is perched on top of my oak step stool and making his way to the seat of the futon. Poor sweet Niles was having a nice lie-down in the sun; he has now, resentfully, moved to the window where he is watching A to determine if this was a fluke or a development. Sadly for Niles and me, it's a development.

Now we can climb up things. Whee!

New blog, new blog

I realized that the writing stuff was taking up too much room on the blog of baby stuff, so I've made a new blog.

Due to my tendency to not keep my big fat mouth shut, that one will be invitation only. It's not you, it's me. I need to be able to sleep after I rant about people who piss me off. I sent out invitations this morning to people who I thought would care, but if you didn't get one, email me and I'll send you an invite. I'm including the people I just forgot and the people I weren't aware read the blog.

Those of you who just want to hear about the bambino should be thrilled.

A picked up a new sign, btw: bird. He likes birds. We went to Sea World yesterday and saw the "Pets Rule" show. He tracked the animals, said "Meow" for the kitties and "Doggie" for the dogs, then watched the window behind us that the birds flew into mid-show very carefully. There's a lot going on in his head.

So what do you do with a baby in Vegas?

Well, let's see. We drove to Vegas, which took about five hours, out of which A was unhappy for half an hour. I put my hand on him and he fell asleep.

We met up with C's work people at the hotel and ate. Then C wasn't due back until later, so we checked into our hotel, let the boy run around the room, and then headed over to the hotel for a tour of J&T's suite and to get my badge. C dropped A and I off at our hotel and he went to the Voodoo Lounge for the company shindig. A and I fell asleep. C crept in later and escaped death by not waking me up too much.

Day two, we dropped C off and picked up Miss Julie and went shoe shopping and fishing shopping. Did you know Zappos has an outlet in Vegas? It does, and I found it and the most darling pair of cute trendy sneakers, plus a pair of blue snakeskin heels. Plus we had excellent Memphis-style BBQ. We went to see The Big Announcement by the CEO and then C, A, and I had dinner and went to bed.

Day three, we had a long lazy morning. C, T, and I went and had BBQ again because it was just that good. Yum! I could eat another pulled pork sandwich right now. The sweet potato came with brown sugar butter sauce. I can't begin to tell you how good that is. Brown sugar and butter might be the best tasting thing in the world.

C went to his panels, A and I drove around Vegas for a nap, then we went to the pool (where some person tried to tell me that the pool was an adult-only pool like I was an idiot and I went all Willy Wonka inscrutable/loony on him), and then we went to watch C in his last panel, then went to the Grand Banquet and ditched after the wedding and costume contest.

Day four, we got up, had breakfast, and came home.

There's a huge difference between staying on the strip without a car and staying off the strip with a car and there's a huge difference in having your baby there and not. But we were not the only ones there with young 'uns.

I think A's favorite part was either trying to walk around in the hotel hallways or taking a bath in the hotel tub.

I took no pictures aside from ones of the hotel room, which is truly a shame.

Vegas with baby

Yes, we were those people in Vegas with a baby in the stroller.

Pizza's hot so I will say that we went to Vegas, had a good time, and didn't gamble or drink. Vegas with a baby is worlds apart from Vegas without a baby (at least, if you are a good parent--yes, I'm looking at you, people who line your kids up against the wall of the casino while you gamble).

More when pizza's not hot.

Viva Las Baby

I'm trying to pack but Mister Crankypants here is making it difficult. So I'm blogging and holding him in my lap.

He desperately needs a nap.

Today was his 12-month checkup. I asked a lot of questions about food, allergies and parenting. He's doing great. He's average in weight, height and head circumference (but in no other ways is he average!), 22 pounds, 29 and a half inches. The length surprised me; his car seat's limit for height is 30 inches so we'll be getting a car seat sooner than I thought. The pediatrician says he has a lot of words for a one-year-old.

He has a new trick where he runs over to a light socket, sees how close he can get to it before I say, "Danger!" then runs back to me, giggling. He also thinks sneezes are hysterically funny right now. Anyone sneezes and he looks delighted, like a large and beautiful butterfly just floated by. If it's a particularly good sneeze, he giggles.

He got the MMR vaccine today and he's running a low-grade fever, which the doctor told us to expect. He really didn't like these shots; he howled and turned so red I thought he'd had a reaction to the drugs at first. One of them apparently burns.

We've got a rental car to go to Vegas (since my car had a nervous breakdown the last time we were there) and we've got to pick it up this evening. I wonder what you do with a baby in Vegas. I'm packing swim togs and we'll spend a lot of time at the pool.

Birthday madness!

We just took the grandparents to the airport (sadly, it was great fun to have them here) after Mister A's Big One.

It was madcap. Friday we decided to go to Comic-Con. If you don't know what Comic-Con is, you probably won't enjoy it. I realized that I was not the big geeky loser girl I thought I was after going to Comic-Con. It makes the SCA people at Ren Fairs look positively well-adjusted.

But then we ran around here cooking and cleaning before we had to pick up the grandparents. Then we woke up and cooked and cleaned until everyone ate, really. We had a good time; I hope everyone else did. A took a nap halfway through his party so the party ended up lasting an hour longer than I thought. Mister L was a trooper and was pretty happy throughout. We had enough food to feed three times the people; I don't know why I'm always convinced everyone will starve.

A liked the frosting but didn't like the cake. He chewed on the cardboard cake round instead. He now has more toys than I know what to do with, but they're all really cool ones. We're parceling them out. He still hasn't opened all the ones from Grandma and Grandpa and us and the out-of-town folks. It's a little overwhelming for a little guy.

Yesterday we took him for a birthday ride on the carousel and train in Balboa Park, which he enjoyed. We went out for BBQ and he took great pleasure in chewing on rib bones. It looked like he was a serious BBQ aficionado from way back. He dropped his bone, then turned and pointed to Grandpa's plate, like, "Hey there, Grandpa, better get me another one." We had a small incident when he got a little bit of the spicy sauce but Dad put a pat of butter in his mouth and everything was better.

Today A and I will try to put the house back together and get back onto a more normal schedule. Boy, birthdays are exciting.

Dog! Dog! Doggie!

This morning, A was between C and me in our bed while we (the grownups) tried to sleep. He stood up and looked out the window over our bed and started yelling what sounded like the same word over and over again.

I resigned myself to being awake, found my glasses and peered out. There were two coyotes playing right outside our window. A waved the white curtain around, pointed with his other hand, and said, "Dog! Dog! Doggie!" (At least, that's what it sounded like to us once we realized what he was pointing out.)

"Yes! I mean--no! That's a coyote, not a doggie, not that you'd know that, A," I said to him. He was thrilled. The coyotes saw the white curtain waving around and ran away. But yes, A has doggie. We'll work on coyote. I was amazed that he had "doggie," just because we don't have a dog. I guess I do point out the dogs that we see and he's pet some (the poodle being carried by the two gay men the other day comes to mind), but it still surprised me that he could make the leap. At least he didn't say "kitty."

It's hard to confirm that yes, doggie is probably the logical word but no, that's not a doggie. Maybe we'll have to spend some time in the zoo, although I don't think there's coyotes in the zoo.

Also in A news: he's been helping me with housework by handing me papers and envelopes to shred. (No, I don't let him touch the shredder. Jeez!) He thinks this is a fabulous thing. I must say, for the first time since we've lived here, all the shredding is done.

Ladies first

My read-and-critique update comes first so the boy update will be at the top of the page.

I had critique group last night. We had a new member, someone whose baby is one day older than Young Master L, which means he's right around A's ago. She was pleasant enough if only looking not at all like she'd had a baby.

I am back to calling the prat the prat. He's a horrible writer but doesn't know it, which is the worst kind of horrible writer. His women are stereotypically "dark" in an Orientalist way that skeeves my little historian's heart and "hot" in a fifteen-year-old writing fan fiction based on Buffy or Babylon 5 way. He's having something published online this month, and that apparently gave him the confidence to nitpick everyone else's work.

One of the writers brought the same piece she'd written before because there's an anthology at the end of the month she's submitting it to and she wanted a last look-over from the group. He looked at it briefly, made the same complaints he made before, then lectured her on letting go over pieces and getting on to the next thing. "I have started something else; I'm just submitting this at the end of the month so I wanted a last opinion," she said. Never mind; he's still going to lecture her on the importance of not working a piece to death. Then he got up and left the table and paced around the restaurant, thank God.

He wanted to have an argument about whether or not "that" was needed in a sentence. Just for those of you playing along at home, current writing trends are to cut words, not add them, and most of the "that"s in the universe can be excised. The prat likes to add "that"s. He wanted to add one where it wasn't needed. I said, no, that's not needed. He ignored me and told the writer to go check with a picky grammar person. She said, "I am a picky grammar person." I said, "So am I, and you don't need it." So he was a little put out. I think he's working in Best Writer In The Room mode, and I don't have the heart to tell him that I've spent the last ten years writing and the last two years copyediting. That'll be my secret.

He had an POV (that's point of view) argument with me about whether or not the POV in my story switches. The story is first-person (just like this here blog), and his argument that it was a POV switch was because of a sentence like this: Now Jake has a toy mouse. See? Did that throw you? I, Miss Kim, writer of the blog, am making a statement about something my cat possesses even though I am not my cat. Did you suddenly feel like I went all omniscient and God-like there? Did it throw you that I didn't say, "I see that now Jake has a toy mouse"? No? Then you're three steps ahead of the prat.

The rest of the group is lovely. I was happy because I got to hear some interesting ideas from other people and spend some hedonistic little time talking about how to make my writing better. It's nice to be with people who are struggling along in their own causes. I have been consuming Miss Snark's blog, but I think it would be better if I didn't read her vorpal wit before read-and-critique group. I felt like my already pretty sharp knives were honed and poker-hot.

Teething teething teething

Molars suck.

They really do.

A has at least four molars trying to come in and oh my Lord the boy is cranky and in pain.

I don't like to give him Tylenol but if they had an over-the-counter drip I'd be on my way to Target right now to buy one. It's the only way he's sleeping right now.

A saw a picture of himself and C on my screen saver, pointed, and said, "Da!" so we're upping the word count. I'm also suspicious that he's trying to say "Jake" and "Niles" but that's still not clear.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

We're done with Harry in this household. The period of time where I am finished and C is not is somewhat tension filled around here since we hold firmly to the concept of not blabbing the bits of books or movies until everyone is done.

So no Harry discussions here. If you finished it and want to chat about it, email me.

But this is all irrelevant to the real attraction which is the boy.

It was birthday party weekend (and it should be a measure of how much we like people that we ventured forth into the world with HP unfinished). Saturday was Little Miss S's birthday, also known on this blog as the Biter. A didn't get bit. It was in a park; all the other birth class babies were there and there were tunnels and toys to play with galore.

There was a huge spread of corn-based food, none of which I could eat. I happened to be standing where the front of the line was when the announcement came to eat, so I gamely walked through the line and took a little of everything, while realizing that I could eat nothing. So then I found my husband (this is why married couples should circulate at parties) and said, "Look, honey, I got you a plate of food." At least everything that I could touch (no utensils for grabbing corn-husk-wrapped tamales, so no tamales on my plate).

This makes me feel slightly better about not killing myself to make sure I have wheat-free, gluten-free everything for our shindig this week.

Sunday we went to Terry's birthday dinner and that was fun, even if there was just too much going on for A. He was mostly fine, a little fussy but it was a long time. I'm feeling increasingly apologetic to my child-free friends because I just can't have a normal conversation any more. I'm trying but my brain's completely taxed. I'm trying to keep my baby occupied and happy first of all, and then second, I can talk to you. You're already coming in second. But then, I have to really concentrate to try and think of something small-talk-y or conversational and that's probably too much work. I don't want to talk about the baby, but I have very few other things that I'm spending my brain power on. Plus I'm consumed by envy of child-free people in restaurants because they don't have someone who is desperately interested you and only wants to be in your lap with a hand down your shirt. Well, you might have someone who wants a hand down your shirt, but you won't be changing his diapers in the next half hour.

The other things that I'm spending my brain power on are things I don't want to talk about, like the fact that I need to figure out whether the protagonist in my novel-in-progress is more of a girl who likes sour candy or sweet, exactly how much already-written back story needs to go and how sad that will make me because I really like the bit about Estefan quitting cigarettes, and whether I should submit my story about the safe for critique this week or the part of the novel where my protagonist meets up with her ex.

See, your eyes are glazing over already.

The tiny bit of my brain that's left is spent on the fact that the hornworms have spread to the basil which pisses me off and that I need to clean the house this week for the impending in-laws and birthday party. You know, remembering milk at the store.

Wednesday is stinky

A didn't sleep well and woke up yelling and crying and thrashing and complaining. He's been cranky all day. We had a lovely day yesterday at Balboa Park, went to the free museums, saw Miss Julie for lunch and viewed baby peacocks.

But today has stunk. Usually in stores I get the "oh, he's adorable," comments. Today at Whole Foods, I was the woman with the cranky baby. I was also right behind the immaculate, yoga attired mom with her baby in his perfectly coordinated outfit that matched his grocery cart liner with the little ruffles. He was quiet and lovely. Mine was thrashing and dressed by his father, which means creatively. A grabbed everything in sight, then discovered he could hold on to the counter and rock the cart back and forth (while yelling MOMMA MOMMA MOMMA!). The Whole Foods clerks couldn't get rid of me fast enough.

A decided that he doesn't like mozzarella any more and threw it all on the floor. Argh. I've stubbed my toe at least twice now, and while that seems minor, I had a biopsy on that toe this morning and it hurts like hell. So. I'm joining the circus as soon as my toe heals well enough for me to walk the high wire.

Lazy Sunday

The boychik is sleeping in C's lap while he re-reads HP 6, so I am trying to cobble together some quilt patterns and blogging.

Let's see: we went to see Miss Julie's short piece in the Actors Alliance Festival, C on Wednesday and me on Friday. That was fun. It's interesting to see what people come up with. I realized that I think about theater from the writing and Julie thinks about it from the performance aspect, which is fascinating, really. But it was fun to see. I sat next to one of the judges and had to cover my eyes every time he got a scorecard out because I knew if I saw what he wrote I would have to tell Miss J. So I didn't look. And I got to meet some of her acting friends that I hear so much about, which was great. And Julie was good, which is always gratifying when you don't have to lie or fudge about how someone did.

Yesterday we hung out here, C cleaning and me watching the boychik and writing. We went to see HP 5 at the drive-in, which was not quite the great success the last trip was. A had slept in the car a lot already, so he was raring to go. He wanted to look out the window, wave to the girls sitting in front of the car next to us, press all the buttons in the car... Oh my. He fell asleep maybe halfway through. I have serious reservations about the things they chose to cut from the movie. It was fine and the actors do well, but they need more money for their special effects (or to reallocate the budget). It reminded me of a ten-year-old's book report on the book, except I think a ten-year-old would have spent the money on (spoiler) Fred and George's swamp.

There are nasty green worms on my tomato plants. I've been picking them off and throwing them over the side for the birds to eat, but I'm going to have to get a little more chemical on them soon.

Biting fallout

So I called the Biter's mom today and told her about A's little visit to the doctor and the blood tests. She couldn't be more apologetic or embarrassed. She offered to pay for the medical bills (which I refused graciously since it's a $10 co-pay and the price of having kids, YKWIM?) and apologized over and over. Anyway, she's going to have her kid tested and then have the results forwarded so I think everything's fine on that front. She told me not to worry about it and to never hesitate to call. I think she's just horribly embarrassed.

A is super happy today. He crawled around taunting Niles with a mouse. Also, his third word, which I didn't mention before, is "Meow." We were sitting at dinner one night over the weekend and Niles began howling upstairs. A looked at us and pointed upstairs and said, "Meow?" Yes, meow. Kitties say meow. Momma, more, meow.

He's had two all-regular-food meals now: turkey, cheese, applesauce, and rice crackers. Someday soon he'll be eating regular food in restaurants. Whoa.

Doctor day

It's been a doozy of a day here. Swim class was fine. We miss Miss M. But we still love swimming. A fourteen month old girl came with her grandmother and cried and shrieked for the five minutes she was in class.

We got in to see the doctor today, the last one in the office we haven't met. (For you baby weight watchers, he's 21 pounds, 9 ounces today.) She was of grandmotherly age and was probably about as peeved as I imagine A's grandmother would be that someone bit him. A's now on antibiotics for ten days since the cut's infected. Plus we had to go for blood tests: HIV and HepA acute. It would be great if the biter could get the same blood tests done and send the results to our pediatrician's office. The doctor even went and found my doctor for a consult before recommending all the blood tests.

I was gobsmacked. Then she asked, "How well do you know this kid?" Well, since before she was born so somewhat well. But her mother's not doing all the vaccines, or not on schedule, and oh my God fine, let's get the blood tests done just to be safe. And somehow I will have what will be a very uncomfortable conversation where I ask someone to get her kid blood tests because it would make my health care professionals (and me) feel better about my kid's health because her kid bit my kid.

And the blood tests all need to be done again in six months.

So I asked this grandmotherly type doctor what I should do about a biter. "Nothing you can do," she said. "Her mother needs to do it. Her mother needs to put her in time-out. And if she keeps biting, she shouldn't be in a playgroup until her mother learns to control her." She said kids of this age bite because they're frustrated in trying to communicate or they're being territorial.

Mistah A was a trooper for his blood tests. This is an amazing kid. He sat patiently through the first vial and started to yell and cry on the second, probably because he was pinned against my chest in a massive medical bear hug. She took the needle out and he stopped crying. Then he downright enjoyed a trip to the grocery store to get his scrip filled. He was in and out of the car a lot today with relatively few complaints.

C is feeding him now and I'm so very, very tired. I am almost first-trimester tired, that's how tired I am. My (other) credit card was stolen (but thankfully, all the charges were denied since my account's on alert) so now I'm going through the credit card gobbedlygook again. This is getting old hat here. I know it sounds like I'm posting my credit card numbers on the 'net but I'm really not.

The Biter

We've got swim class today, but I have to call the doctor. A got bit (again) last week at playdate - twice. I didn't think she had broken the skin, but on Friday he most definitely had a scab. It's looked irritated all weekend. Today it's still raised, red and puffy, so I'm calling the doctor to make sure we don't have to bring him in. He doesn't have a fever, but he's been having Tylenol for teething pain (the sixth tooth broke through yesterday, finally, but there are signs of number seven and eight making their way through now).

I'm annoyed, to say the least.

I don't know if a one-year-old is old enough to be biting for attention or not. I don't know why a one-year-old bites. There are some people who claim it's teething and some who claim it's attention-getting. I've done enough reading to know that I'm not supposed to say, "You horrible, horrible monster, you bit my angel," and I give all of my attention to A anyway. After a cuddle, he bounces back quickly. He's a trooper.

The first time she bit him, I really wasn't too rattled. The second time, I was unhappy. The third time, I thought, what is wrong with your kid? That's about as judgmental as you can get with someone's else's kid. The mother is embarrassed about it but I'm getting to the point where I want her to have her hands on her kid at all times, which is difficult, but I'm not the one with the biter. I'm going to have to lay my hands on A at all times during playdate, which will annoy both me and him. Part of playdate for me is teaching him to feel comfortable being not-in-my-lap in a non-home space.

And now I'm wondering how in the world I teach A to defend himself. Do I want him to run away or punch her or push her away?

Drive-in movies

C and I (and A, asleep in the back) went to the movies. This is huge, people.

A friend of ours from birth class mentioned that she had gone to the drive-in with her baby. I thought, "Oh my God, we have wasted so much freaking time not seeing movies."

The last movie I think C and I saw was the second Pirates movie, although that sounds wrong to me. We kept trying to see Cars but the world conspired against us seeing it.

We went to the drive-in, parked in the wrong lot and had to get a new (less than optimal) position for the movie, but A slept through most of Ratatouille and all of Pirates. And we stayed awake until 1:30AM watching these stupid films, which was even more amazing. We were so tired on the 4th, but boy, it was fun to see a movie. We should have discovered the drive-in earlier. Maybe we'll actually get to see the latest Harry Potter. Ratatouille is super, btw. Very sweet.

Oh, speaking of Harry, I know you're all re-reading, so I wanted to postulate. Does anyone else think Harry's scar might be the last horcrux? Is this just patently obvious to everyone?

Drywall dreck

Yesterday the drywall guy was a no-show. He was even a no-call.

Today he called at 7:30 to say he'd pick up the other guy (who is the guy he blamed the crappy drywall job on last week) at 10-ish and be by at 10:30 or 11.

At 11:43, the other guy calls and says he's leaving the beach right now and will be over soon.

He got here around 12:45.

He painted the bathroom (no, you can't dismantle my broom to use the pole for your roller, thanks for asking) then asked, "Is there anything else we can do or is this good?" Translation: are you going to keep asking me to fix this crap or are we done?

I said, "We'll take pictures once it's dry and email them to the landlord, and then he'll say."

The kicker? This guy blames the other guy for the crappy drywall job. Personally, I think you both suck because you both walked away from it looking like crap. And I'm thinking about posting the pictures somewhere to prove it, if they'll let me. So there.

On his way out, he asked if there was any other work we needed done. No! No! This crap has been going on since freaking May and I wouldn't ask you guys to do it if you were the only people on earth. I could have started my own drywall business by now.

Classes and drywall and more

I know we're on the verge of a holiday (how can it be July?).

Saturday I went to part 2 of a "how to get published" class so now I'm raring to go. Need to write, need to get things done, yup. I've got one story to polish and send out as soon as the latest Writer's Market gets here and two more stories to finish and send out. And then there's that damned novel that probably needs the first six chapters chopped off, but I have to gear myself up for that.

Sigh.

While I was at class, A and C went to swim class. C learned to submerge A, which is great, and A had a good time but looked for his mom, which warmed my little mommy heart.

I realize I haven't given a food update in a while. This is what he eats now: apples, apricots, bananas, carrots, sweet potatoes, peas, peaches, winter squash, plums, chicken, turkey (although the turkey veggie dinner is not his favorite), avocado, rice noodles, rice, lentils, O cereal, oatmeal, barley, raisins, yogurt, pears, and the latest, mozzarella cheese. He now claps after we introduce a food that he likes.

We think he can say "Mom" and "more" and I'm pretty sure he's added "banana" to his signing vocabulary. He just refuses to do any of it on cue so we could jump up and down and say, "Yay, he's doing it."

Drywall: the drywall is a mess. You can see the seams and the space behind the wall through the tape in one place. The drywall guy is supposedly coming to fix it today between 9:30 and 10AM...yes, it's about twenty minutes after that. At least it's not our house or our money that's paying for this crap.