Goodbye 2009

Wow, what a year. A very strange, satisfying year. I started out at the end of 2008 thinking I would be working within the first six months of the year, and here I am still at home with Sophie.

Of course, the worst part of this year was having to put Simon down. Last New Years Eve Chet and I went to see "Marley and Me", and we both were crying at the end. Chet was crying so hard I had to drive home. Wee knew at that time Simon didn't have long, but I thought he would make it through the year. I still cry every time I look at his picture, or think about him, or talk about him. Losing him was very sad and hard. At first I thought we would get a new puppy as soon as possible, but right now I don't know that any of us are ready for that. We are working well as our little family of four.


One week before we put Simon down I started Weight Watchers. So far I have lost 28 pounds. I didn't have a great week last week, I didn't lose or gain. I wanted to hit 30 by the Ne Year, but hopefully next week. One of main goals during my time at home was to lose weight, and all I did was gain 10 pounds. While I wish I would have started when I quit my job, I am so happy I am doing it now.

Overall, this is has been a very different year for me. Being at home, in full mommy mode has been wonderful. While it has cost us a lot of money, it has well been worth it. So maybe I will have to work a little longer into my golden years, but I would not give up this time for anything. Besides having precious time with my girl, it has enabled me to spread my wings socially in a way I never have. I have made some wonderful friends and shed a little bit of my social awkwardness. Sophie and I have spent a lot of time doing fun things, like play dates and different outings we never would have done before. So even after I go back to work, I know I will have this great network of mom friends that I can count on.

2010 promises to bring a lot of changes. Hopefully an exciting new job in a somewhat different field. While I would love to stay home until Sophie starts school, I know that is probably not in the cards. But whatever happens, I know it will be a great year because I have Chet, Sophie and Toby.

Christmas 2009

Since I am not working yet, I decided to really enjoy this Christmas season and pack as many fun things in as possible. Chet Sophie and I went to Zoolights the Saturday after Thanksgiving, we went to downtown Seattle, Sophie and I made a few trips to my favorite mall, we met different friends at fun and festive places, and we had a toddler cookie decorating party. This week was going to be more low key. We had fun on Monday, meeting my cousin and her son at a favorite store and then having lunch. Tuesday was a stay at home day, to do some cleaning, wrapping, etc. Tuesday night Sophie had a runny nose and was a little fussy. Sure enough, Wednesday morning when I went to get her, her cheeks were bright red and she cried when I picked her up because she was achy. We were supposed to go to my parents that day, but instead my mom came over. I called the doctors office and the nurse called back and said it sounded like a cold, give her tylenol and watch her. Thursday we stayed home again, baking cookies for Santa and doing more cleaning and laundry. Chet picked up pizza for us and we had Sophie open a couple of gifts. Daddy read her The Night Before Christmas, and then we put her to bed. Chet started putting together a table and chairs my parents bought her, and I got ready to go to Mass by myself. Mass was very nice. The choir sung all my favorite Christmas songs, and the homily was very unique as usual with our Parish Priest. I notice on my way to Church that there were lots of lights, more than usual. I realized I hadn't really been out at night since the first weekend in December when Sophie and I went driving around to look at lights.

Christmas morning, Sophie still didn't feel good. She wanted milk, so Daddy got her milk and we went out to see if Santa had come. If she was not sick I know she would have been more excited. Chet and I really didn't get her a ton of stuff, but combined with everyone else, it was a lot. After a while she really got into unwrapping things. She loved her stocking. I am glad I decided to wrap everything, even the Dora bandaids. I think that was her favorite part. She later pulled everything out to show my parents, and did that again today to show me. I put all the stocking stuff away now, so I hope she isn't upset tomorrow. Her stocking was full of basic stuff, like a Hello Kitty toothbrush, Dora big girl panties, socks, ponytail holders, etc. I think she would have been happy with just that stuff. Santa brought her a kids digital camera, because he must know how much she likes taking pictures. Daddy drew her name in the name drawing we do with my family, and got her a new baby doll. We got her some dress up clothes, a little chair for her doll, a new nightgown, a step stool I got at Target really cheap, and an Elmo Goes Potty video. All told, we only spent about $100. We actually spend less now than we did before we had Sophie, because we used to spend a lot more on each other. Of course my parents got her a ton of stuff, and she also got a lot of things from Chet's mom, and all of her aunties and uncles, including her honorary auntie, my bff. We really don't buy her things throughout the year, other than clothes, so I am fine with her being a little spoiled on Christmas and her birthday. My parents came in the afternoon, bringing her more things of course. So she played with Grandma and Grandpa and I made a roast with carrots, garlic mashed potatoes and rolls. Then my parents left and we bundled up Sophie and went driving around looking at lights. That was very nice. When we got home we all pretty much crashed. All in all it was a very wonderful and special Christmas, even though Sophie was sick. Since she stared holding and pulling her ears last night I called the doctor first thing this morning and we got in today. Luckily we got to see her pedi, and she has a bad double ear infection. So now we have antibiotics and hopefully it can clear up soon. I have spent many a Christmas sick, so I hope Sophie doesn't ever get sick again on Christmas. It's no fun.

Nine weeks/eight weeks

So, today is nine weeks since I started weight watchers. My weigh in was this morning, and I lost a pound since last week. My previous four weeks were better numbers, so that didn't surprise me. I have lost a total of 28 pounds in 9 weeks. I was hoping to hit 30 by Christmas, but New Years would be good too. We'll see.

Today is 8 weeks since we had to put our pug Simon down. I can't believe it has been that long. I miss him so much. Our other Pug Toby is still out of sorts. Sophie still mentions Simon, but I think she gets that he is gone. I can't see his picture or think about him or talk about him with out crying. But of course I do look at his picture, talk about him, think about him, and cry. I have to. That's just how I am.

Christmas is coming!!

I love Christmas. I love the lights, the decorations, the tree, the carols, the whole Christmas atmosphere. My favorite thing is the Christmas spirit. These days, it is sometimes hard to find. Everyone gets so caught up in shopping, parties, getting things done, that instead of having a Christmas spirit, they are crabbier than normal. So not the idea of Christmas, I think. The first time I realized that not everyone was happy and jolly at Christmas time was in 1987. I started working in 1986, but my sister died in a car accident that Thanksgiving, and I didn't go back to work until a couple of weeks before Christmas. I was in such a haze, I don't remember that Christmas. The following year, I was excited to be at work during Christmas. I was so excited that our sometimes crabby customers would all be happy and full of glee. I was bitterly disappointed to discover that people were actually worse during Christmas. Each year, it only got worse. Growing up, we had lots of family traditions at Christmas. I remember being 7 years old and running home to see that my mom had put lights in the windows. We decorated Christmas cookies, we went downtown to see Santa, we went to Mass and dinner on Christmas Eve. Our extended family has always had a Christmas party the Sunday before Christmas. Growing up we all drew names, so that was the first gift of the season. A precursor to Christmas, so to speak. It was always fun to see who had your name. As we got older, our Christmases got bigger and bigger. As much as I loved the presents, it was not all about the day, but the season, and it still is. I love to drive around and look at Christmas decorations. I like going to the malls and seeing all the festive decor. It is a special time of year, and should feel special. I love the gatherings, the baking, the festivals, everything. All the years that I longed for a baby, Christmas time was the worse. I wanted a child to share the season with. It was apropos that I found out I was pregnant 12 days before Christmas. Then 3 days before Christmas I found out I was in danger of having my third miscarriage. I was put on bed rest. Then taken off, then put back on. Of course, the next Christmas Sophie was here, and I was working six days a week. Sophie was only four months old that Christmas, so she didn't realize what was going on, but I did. And it was the best Christmas ever. Last year I wasn't working, and we did some of our usual traditions, but then we got snowed in for the week before and many functions were canceled, much to my chagrin. This year, since I still am not working, I have made sure we do as many fun things as possible. I have packed our schedule a bit, but I am savoring every memory. I decided to spend more money on making memories than actual gifts. I really think everyone should do that. Then maybe they wouldn't be so hurried, stressed, crabby and so not in the Holiday spirit. I don't want anyone getting stressed over buying me a gift. I much rather they sit back and enjoy the season.

Sometimes I wonder what the world is coming to.

Last Sunday, four cops were gunned down in cold blood in a coffee shop while getting ready for their shifts. This happened about a half hour from our house. I found out when I was chatting online with my sister who lives out of state, and my dad called her. I turned on the tv, and it wasn't on yet, but eventually they broke into it. I just instantly felt sick to my stomach. Someone walked in to a Forza Cafe, shot the four officers, and left. That is what we knew at the time. There were two employees and a few customers there at the time. They were not hurt, physically anyway. I'm sure they will have nightmares the rest of their lives. I can't even imagine. Having worked with the public for a very long time, I of course never dealt with anything like this, but there were many times I feared for my safety. People can be very volatile and unpredictable. We dealt with the police often, when ever shoplifters were caught. Even when a cop walked in the store in uniform to look around, I instantly felt safer. I could never dream they could be executed like that.

Thanks to the heroic witnesses, they pretty quickly recovered the getaway vehicle, and in turn, had a "person of interest". By Monday morning, he was a suspect. Maurice Clemmons, a pardoned, parolee out on bail. Monday was spent searching various places he was thought to be. By Monday night, they still had not found him. By then it was reported that he may have been wounded in a struggle with one of the slain officers. It was scary thinking he was on the loose. Tuesday, I woke up to the news that he had been shot in the middle of the night by an officer acting on a report of a stolen vehicle. Thank God this officer survived his meeting with this maniac. Clemmons was shot and killed when he refused to stop, and reached for his waist band. They later found a gun belonging to the slain officer that shot him. Yes, given an extra second, he would have shot this Seattle officer with the gun of a slain Lakewood officer. Un- fucking believable. Yet, this is only half the story.

First of all, Maurice Clemmons was sentenced as a youth in Arkansas to 99 years for armed robbery. There had to be aggravated circumstances for him to get that sentence. But, he was later pardoned. At one point he violated parole and went back to jail. Then got out again. This year, he was arrested for CHILD RAPE and assault on a police officer, but made bail!!! Why a parolee accused of CHILD RAPE is eligible for bail is beyond me. Not only that, but who the hell would give him the funds to post bail??? Which leads me to:

The friends and family who posted his bail in the past, helped him after he murdered four officers in cold blood! I swear, this is so fucking disturbing to me. It gets better though! So, someone drove the getaway car. Someone else drove him to Seattle. At least two people helped him with his wound. Right now there are six accomplices in jail that I know of. I haven't watched the news today though. People helped him hide. I guess he ran out of places, as the police were on him, and ended up stealing a car and being out on the street at 2 in the morning. I don't know if he stole it himself or not. Since he had a group of stupid, fucked up people doing things for him. There was a 125k reward. Why didn't someone call, if for nothing else, to get the reward money. Maybe they were afraid of him? Or maybe afraid of friends of his. He had a gun wound in the stomach for Christ's sake. He was moving around. Someone could have called. He couldn't have been holding a gun to every ones head. But wait!! At Thanksgiving dinner, THREE DAYS before the shooting, he talked about killing people. Children, strangers at an intersection, cops. Every single fuck head at that dinner needs to be arrested. Go home, go to the other room, go for a walk, because you know they all have cell phones. Call the police, don't leave your name. Just let them know that a pardoned, paroled, out on bail violent criminal has just talked about killing random cops, people, and CHILDREN. Oh no, instead lets wait until he does it, help him, act like you don't have any idea why you are being arrested, and COMPLAIN that your shitty houses were torn up in the SEARCH. On the NEWS!!! Why the media is airing this crap, who knows. Ratings I suppose. Why else would they air footage of people saying what a great guy the fucking KILLER was!? And you know those people just want their face out there. Now there will probably be lawsuits against the police department to recoup their losses. For shit that was probably stolen in the first place, seeing as their hero was a convicted, though pardoned, burglar.

As for the media, you don't have to report every tidbit of information. Why report what he said at Thanksgiving dinner. To give ideas to the other nut jobs out there? As scary as it is that someone could walk in and kill four officers, or anyone, in cold blood, it is almost as scary that this sob had a network of support. And they are still here. And out on bail in no time, I'm sure.

Good week/bad week

It is Thanksgiving week. How it got to be late November already, I have no idea. I really love the holidays, so I do enjoy Thanksgiving week. Really, it is a short week. Wednesday is the day before, with preparing for the next day. Thanksgiving day is nice, and that night I start getting out my Christmas stuff. Up until last year, the day after was not only a crazy work day, but the start of a month of crazy days to come. And six day work weeks. Yuck. Last year I wasn't working, but I did not partake in Black Friday shopping. This year I may do a little. Some how, Chet got this weekend, and Monday off. Saturday night we hope to go to our Zoolights with Sophie. We have never done that before. My sister will be here from Wednesday until Monday, and I am really looking forward to that.

The bad part? Thanksgiving of 1986. That was my first year working, and the day before Thanksgiving was very rainy. In the morning I took my sister Cathy to work on my way to school. I was at a community college, and she was home on break from a state college. That night I got called into work. There wasn't enough gas in the car, so I had to stop in the pouring rain at my dads office to get gas. I don't remember if he gave me money, or if I filled up there, because they had their own pumps for their installers trucks. I just remember driving the family station wagon in the pouring rain. That night I was in bed when my sisters Cathy and Gina got home from a movie. My sister Cathy peeked her head into my room and asked if I wanted to go to a family brunch in the morning at her work. I said maybe, I think. Then she went back out with her boyfriend. Hours later I woke up to hear my mom on the phone. I got up, and my mom was going to Cathy's room because her boyfriends sister called and asked if Cathy was home. She wasn't. My parents thought she was asleep in bed. My mom had misunderstood. Cathy and her boyfriend had been in a car accident. John was at one hospital, and they had taken Cathy to another one, just about a mile down the hill from our house. MY mom called the hospital and was told she was in surgery, and nothing else. Then two policemen showed up at the door. as it turned out, the accident was four blocks down the street. Straight down our street. MY parents headed to the hospital and insisted we stay. I will never know why I didn't go. There was another car in the driveway. But they had said to stay. So I was there with my two other sisters, ages 17 and 13. We were praying the whole time. I was sure she would be fine. I mean, it was Thanksgiving, about 3 in the morning, maybe. Certainly God wouldn't let anything bad happen, on Thanksgiving no less. Then my parents came back. And, our parish priest. Not a good sign. Cathy had died. They operated on her, but could not save her. Cathy was ten months and two days younger than me. She was always in my life. Needless to say, life was never the same again.

Cathy died on Thanksgiving, November 27th, 1986. So, really there are two anniversaries of her death. Thanksgiving, and the 27th. Last year Thanksgiving fell on the 27th, but this year the 27th is Friday. Thanksgiving is a little weird in my family. For years it was just Chet, I and my parents. Two years ago Sophie joined us. This year one of my sisters will be here for the first time in 10 years. Four years after Cathy died, my Grandma died on Thanksgiving. And 20 years after she died, Sophie was conceived on Thanksgiving. TMI maybe, but noteworthy. It is just a strange day. Also this year, not only is the 27th the 23rd anniversary of Cathy's death, but the one month anniversary of our dog Simon's death. Cathy was an old soul from day one. And so was Simon. I am sure they have found each other in Heaven.

Simon's home

In a box. It is a very nice box, with his name embossed on the outside. Chet went to pick up his ashes on Friday. There was no way I could go. I can't even stand to drive by the vet, which is on the main road through town. Right now the box is on the top of the shelf in our living room. Normally that room isn't used very much, and everything is in it's place. But I started going through the hundreds of pictures and cards in the drawer last week, and they are all over the place. Chet wanted to put the box on the mantle, but it is not very wide, so I was afraid it would fall down. So it is in it's bag, on the top of the shelf, between two vases. We are planning on spreading his ashes at his favorite doggy park in the spring. We used to go there all the time when we lived nearby. We still took the dogs there up until my parents moved out of the area three years ago. Simon loved to swim there, and we used to go to pug parties there. Simon didn't really play well with others though. He had major Daddyitis his whole life, he loved mommy, grandma, grandpa, and his aunties. He loved Toby, but not until after he took a permanent bite out of his ear the first day they met. He loved Sophie too, even though he wanted nothing to do with mommy for two days after we brought Sophie home. But he would lay outside of her bedroom door during her naps, and he liked to come with me in the mornings to get her up. And Sophie loved him. I think she gets that he is not coming back, but I am not positive. We have been blowing kisses to him up in heaven. I'm surprised we don't hear him barking down here. Sometimes, I would swear I do:-)

I think I could write whatever I want...

Since I don't seem to have any readers. Hello, is anyone out there? I know I am the worst blogger EVER. A. I don't have a lot of time. There are a lot of other things I can do online intermittently, like Facebook, even email. But the only time I have to blog is after 8pm, and I am usually exhausted. B. I have so many things running around in my head, it is hard to focus on just one. C. No one is reading anyway. I know that doesn't really matter, but I do find that motivating.

Fat. I started Weight Watchers on 10/20. It had gotten to the point that it was between that and surgery, and I really don't want surgery. Plus, Chet is very against it. I know I can lose on my own, but I need something structured like this. I am doing it online, which I love. It involves counting and budgeting, two of my strengths. It does not require me to be weighed in public and listen to others tell me what I should do. Two of my least favorite things. I know meetings help a lot of people, but I know my quirky self, and this is the way to go. I will probably attend one meeting to check it out. Week one, I lost 7 pounds, and week two, I lost 6. Woo hoo! Better than I imagined. I know the big number from week two had to do with losing Simon. I am really hoping for at least a three pound loss this week, but I am not real hopeful. I have been working out more, and I have these big calf muscles that lay dormant, and with a little bit of work they pop out. That's what years of soccer and then working on my feet have given me. Those are the only muscles I have, trust me.

Simon. We are missing him so much, of course. I have stayed home this week, to decompress and because I haven't felt too well. It has been nice, and allowed me to work on some projects. One is my "photo/card" drawer. Right now I have piles of pictures and cards sitting on my coffee table. There is a pug pile of course, which sadly is way higher than the Sophie pile, or any other for that matter. Mainly because for most of our pug parent years we had a non digital camera, and actually had pictures printed. Most of the Sophie pics are on the computer. SO Sophie and I have been looking at lots of Simon picss, many with Toby too. Sophie and Toby still think he is coming back. It's so sad. We love you pookie bear!!

Job. Haven't even looked for a couple weeks. I can only handle so many changes at once, and going back to work will be a huge one. Dealing with WW and the loss of Simon are enough right now. Plus, I have so many great holiday celebrating ideas floating in my head:). Of course, I will start freaking while spending money on Christmas. I cannot turn off my inner worrywart.

Sex. Ha ha, just checking to see if anyone is reading. Scared you, didn't I?

The Book of Simon-an excerpt.

Chet and I had to put down our 12 year old pug Simon yesterday. That was a decision I never thought I would make. Chet and my parents had been telling me for awhile that we needed to, but I wanted him to live his nature life. He has been in pain for quite awhile, with less and less use of his hind legs. They would just collapse under him. He could barely lower himself to sit down. The vet thought it was an injury that would heal, but it never did, it got worse. She put him on pain medicine last December, which we were supposed to ween him off of after a couple months. We never did, because without he couldn't move. With it, he moved slowly. The pain got worse and worse. He lost control of his bowels, and recently his bladder. He was miserable. There were many nights I didn't think he would make it through the night. He was having trouble breathing, and would get very stiff. This past weekend, and Monday, he was in bad shape. So I made an appointment, not sure what the vet would say. She was supportive of whichever decision we made. His spine looked much worse than the last time she saw him. She said his pelvis had fused together, which was why he now stood with his legs spread apart, I imagine. Just in case we did put him down yesterday, I took pictures of him and Sophie before we left. I tried to get Toby in there too, but he was uncooperative as usual. Chet met me there. At that point, the doctor had inserted the catheter and brought Simon back to me wrapped in a blanket. He gave me kisses on the nose, which he hasn't done in a long time. I gave him lots of kisses and mommy loves you's. Chet held him, and I left. I didn't want to be there when the drug was administered. I went home and Chet wasn't far behind. Due to circumstance, Sophie was at home with my mom, and one of my friends and her daughter. That worked out well, because she didn't really notice we came home without Simon.

Ballooon Boy

I have probably mentioned that I am a huge reality T.V. junkie. So, on Thursday I dropped my parents off at the airport for their trip to Denver to see my sisters. On the way home, I heard about this runaway balloon on the radio. They said it was 40 miles north of the Denver airport, and they were clearing airspace. So I called my mom to let her know. Their flight hadn't taken off yet. When I got home, I turned on the T.V., and Chet and I were both praying for that little boy. CNN mentioned that the dad was a storm chaser, and I said OMG, I wonder if it is that guy from Wife Swap. Then my sister called and said the local news had released the name and I asked what it was. When she said Falcon Heene, I was like shit, that is the family from Wife Swap! We were so happy when they found the kid. I watched the interview on Larry King Live. I was pretty surprised they were composed enough to do and interview. If I had spent five hours thinking my child might be dead, there is no way I would be calm enough to do a interview hours later, let alone in front of cameras. Even when the kid said "you guys said we did this for a show", I just figured he was confused. By Friday, everyone thought it was a hoax, and I thought wow, everyone is so cynical. I just could not imagine parents doing such a thing. Even though I had seen these guys on Wife Swap and the dad was a real jerk. At that point, I was just happy that we hadn't seen or heard from Jon and Kate in a couple days! So now, it has come out that it was a hoax. Of course people are saying take their kids, throw them in jail. Certainly, there should be major consequences. And I am not convinced that the guy isn't abusive to the wife, if not physically, verbally. There needs to be an investigation by Child Protective Services. As for the hoax, fine them, give them community service, and probation. But jail? Really? I think we need the room for all of the child molesters, abusers, and murderers. Yes, it is totally unimaginable what they did, and all that time spent looking for the boy could have been spent fighting crime. I just don't know if jail is the answer. And of course, this wouldn't be such a huge story if it wasn't for the stupid media. I will give Richard Heene that. He has them figured out to a tee.

Yikes, an ear infection

I really thought Sophie was going to go through life with no ear infection. Pretty naive considering all the ear/throat/sinus infections I have had in my life. If I was born in the 90's and not the 60's I would have my tonsils out, tubes in my ears and a regular allergy prescription. Add in the fact that I grew up going to Group Health, which my parents pay out of pocket for now. A typical trip to the doctor went like this: What's wrong? What do you think you have? What medicine would you like? That was after an hour wait in the waiting room, and another half hour in the exam room. Nothing I say can convince my parents they would be better off medically and financially if they switched insurance. Sophie had a runny nose for awhile, but suddenly Friday afternoon she was putting her finger in her ear and saying owie. Then she started crying and wanted to be held. I called the doctor and they said they could get her in at 4:45. Well it was 4:30 and we are a good 15 minutes away, so I sent Chet since he had just walked in and could just jump back in the car while I threw shoes on Sophie. Plus he is a faster driver. So at least Sophie got an antibiotic, my old friend amoxicillen. When they come home I start firing off the questions. What medicine? I don't know. Did you tell them you are allergic to Penicillen? No, why would I do that? Well, because Sophie could have inherited the allergy. But you aren't allergic. Yeah, but she has your DNA too. Did she get the flu shot while she was there? No. Did you ask about it? No. Did you ask about Swine flu? No. Did they say anything other then she has a middle ear infection? No. When I called him about an hour after they left, the doctor had just come in. So I could have gone myself and been late since they waited an hour anyway. Usually we never wait there, but this was last minute. Lesson learned.

Beautiful fall day!

It was a beautiful fall day today. Chet worked all day, so it was just me and Sophie. I started putting up my Halloween decorations a few days ago, even though my Mother said I must wait until October first. So far no Decor police have knocked on my door. WE went to the fair on Thursday, and we drove past a house that was all decorated. That was all the permission I needed! As usual, I am missing several decorations, that I know of, which means there are also a few I forgot about. I'm sure they are buried in my Christmas closet. If I don't find them now, I will find them the day after Thanksgiving, when I get my Christmas decor out. Sophie was so excited when we were putting out the things inside on Friday. Then Chet put up the pumpkin lights along the path when he got home. Today Sophie and I went out and hung the Ghost flag, a witch on the garage, and a witch in a tree in the backyard. This year I am going to attempt to make ghosts to hang in one or more tree out front. When we were done getting the witch in the tree, we hung out in the backyard. Thanks to Grandma, Sophie likes to dig up dirt, usually bark, and throw it. Our backyard is filling up quick since my Mom keeps bringing stuff over that she picks up at garage sales. Last week she brought Sophie a cute little plastic lawn chair. After a while, I told Sophie we were going on the deck. She went ans got the lawn chair and was carrying it across the yard to the deck. I asked if she wanted help, and she said I can do it. Plain as day. That is the longest sentence she has ever said. So funny. Chet worked later than he thought, and now he has to work tomorrow when he was supposed to be off. So, he picked up McDonalds for dinner. Nice and easy. All together, it was a great day:)

Really?

First, I'm sorry that I have been very remiss in my blogging duties. Chasing after a two year old all day has proven to be rather time consuming and tiring. By the time that I can blog, my brain is mush.

So I am watching the Emmy's and on comes a commercial for David Letterman. And guess who his guest is going to be?! That's right. Our President. After all, he did Jay Leno, so I guess Letterman should get equal airtime, right? I can literally feel my blood boiling. Now, imagine that our country is as problem free as possible. A thriving economy, crime down, no war, just sailing along. In that case, I could see our President going on late night talk shows. And taping messages to our Nation's students. But, as we are all aware, because the media shoves it down our throats, our country is in the proverbial toilet. In my opinion, we need a strong, balls to the wall President leading us right now. Not a professional talk show guest.

This President got my vote. And right now, I feel like I paid for a Corvette and got a Schwinn.

Where did it go?

Where is my fire, my gumption, my non doormat personality. I swear staying at home the last year has changed me. I suppose it is because I am trying so hard to be social that I am not really being myself. Bullshit that I would never put up with at work, within my family, or even in public I seem to be putting up with in my new social circle. I am starting to see why I have avoided this all my adult life. I have a few good friends, my hubby, my family and that was enough. But having Sophie, I need to network with other moms. Don't get me wrong, I have met lots of very nice parents and their kids. I am grateful. But, I am starting to feel walked on, and I don't like it one bit. I just am too afraid to piss someone off that I smile and comply. Like, I ended up babysitting, which was masked as a "playdate", sent in an email. I hate bullshit. If I put up with that crap I would have gone a lot further in my career, believe me. If you want me to watch your kids, call and ask. Don't mask it in a very vague email. Then, when the kids where brought over, their mom basically told me, twice, to stay in my playroom with them!! So I actually sat in there with them, getting hot and suffocated and fuming. Eventually I ran out to my kitchen to get my water. How insane is that? Of course I ended up taking them out to our open living area, and Sophie's room. She said she was afraid her little one would break something. Well, the biggest danger was him playing with the t.v. in the playroom. If you want to trick me into babysitting your kids, trust me enough to have them wherever!! My house is not big, and it is pretty child safe. It just makes me wonder, am I putting something out there that's says I can be walked on? After all these years of being called intimidating, harsh, bold, blah, blah, blah?! Obviously I need to find a balance. There are people that can tell it like it is in a way that doesn't offend anyone, but I don't have that gift. How I wish I did!

Michael Vick

So I just got done reading a thread on my usual message board about Michael Vick. There were actually women on there that felt he has paid his debt to society and deserves to go back to the NFL. After all, he took a big pay cut. WTF?! The person that started the thread thought it was outrageous that he was picked to play for Philly, as do I. To me it says we don't give a shit what kind of person you are, we know you are a talented player so we want you on our team. This is what our society has come to. As far as I am concerned, getting to play ball for a living, for a lot of money, is a privelage. Everyday people are getting fired for things they post on Facebook, and this evil idiot gets to play football?! I am not a big football fan, so I don't know a whole lot, but I was told that many teams wanted him. Anyone that is lucky enough to play a sport for a ton of money, or is at all in the spotlight, should be a role model. One of the arguments being used on the message board was that there are lots of players that do worse? Really!! That is the argument?! I am just totally disgusted. I really hope that the Eagles(?) get protesters and lose some money in ticket sales. But I doubt it.

Total Ridiculosity

Sorry I am such a blogging slacker. In my defense, I have been gone for four days. I did have internet access, but my dad was hovering over me like a helicopter most of the time. And, my parents don't read my blog. We had record heat this week with temps over 100. The majority of Seattleites do not have central air. "Luckily" my parents do. I held out until Sophie got a heat rash and her hair was wet with sweat at 10am in the morning. So I packed up Sophie, the two crazy pugs and myself and headed over. Chet stayed home since his work is 30 minutes the other direction and my parents live a good 45 minutes away from our house. He did spend one night, which was a nice reprieve. The house was nice and cool, though my dad hovered around the thermostat and turned it up when my mom wasn't looking. She would yell, he would say she doesn't understand the cost, blah, blah, blah. I threatened to tape the Pam and Bill show and put it on You Tube. That worked for about a minute. In the meantime, Simon my almost 12 year old pug had to be carried up and down the couple of steps from the deck to the yard, where Toby my 8 year old pug and Charlie, my parents obnoxious dog where playing all sorts of reindeer games. Never mind they are both male and both fixed. So Toby gets worked up and then attacks poor feeble Simon for no reason. Sophie wants to go outside all the time, and even when I say no, my dad opens the door and lets her out with no shoes on to step on the deck that sits in the 100 degree sun. Of course every little thing I do with Sophie is wrong. My mom keeps telling Sophie she needs to go potty on the potty. She's not even two. But all of mom's kids were potty trained by two. A. We had to be. By the time I was two I had a 14 month old sister and another well on the way. B. How well potty trained were we? I peed my pants on the floor in the first grade and once sleep walked into the kitchen, sat under the kitchen sink and peed. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, but in small doses. I like my space. I want to eat what I want to eat, watch what I want to watch, feed my child what I want to feed her, and not plop her on the bed in front of the tv. And not be put down all the time. I did marvel, into day three, how my sisters and I ended up with any self esteem at all. So I am home, in my still hot house. I pray the weather cools down to a nice 75 degrees soon. Sophie's second birthday is in a week and a half. I have a lot of prepping to do!

Three things

Okay, I have three things weighing heavy on my mind. I NEED a job. I HAVE to lose weight, and I WANT another baby. Of course of these three things, guess which one I am working on the most? I should be pounding the pavement looking for a job, and walking some of this weight off. I have been off almost a year, and have not lost any weight. The job thing is a whole other ball of wax. As stressed out as I was working, I am way more stressed out about having no money. And, I just knew I would be, but I quit anyway. This is not a "budgeting" situation. Chet's salary covers about half our expenses, and that is on a TIGHT budget. I was in total la la land to think he would do anything to improve his situation. That is never going to happen. It is up to me. I have applied for quite a few things, and gotten no where. There is alot more that I can do. I need to work on a good resume, and perhaps look for jobs in my field. It will be very hard to not be with Sophie all the time, but at least I would know I was providing for her, and not have to worry. These three things seem interchangable. Like, losing weight would help me on the two other fronts, having a job would help me lose weight and give me piece of mind about having a baby, and getting pregnant would motivate me in the two other areas. And, I am sick to death of answering questions about all three. Okay, the weight one is mostly my mother..

To party, or not to party?

So, Sophie turns 2 in a little over a month. Unfreakingbelievable. For the last several weeks, I have been torturing myself with the choice between having a party or not. By party, I mean inviting friends and family over for cake, etc. If I didn't throw a big party, we would still have a get together with my parents. Also, Chet, Sophie and I would go do something fun. Now, I said before she turned one that I would not have a big party, but of course I did. It was alot of fun, even though we got rained out the second weekend in August, and I had alot of people in my little house. You would think the trade off for being nine months pregnant in August would be no rain on your childs birthday, ever! I keep going back and forth with this decision, as is my annoying nature. After this year, I can ask Sophie. I have asked this year, but she keeps saying party, even though I don't think she grasps it. Although, last week when my sister was opening her birthday gift, Sophie was really eyeing it, so maybe she understands more than I think. I know if we don't have a party, she will still have a wonderful celebration. We have always had great birthdays in my family, and we rarely had parties. I had one when I turned 8, 14, and I think that's it. Some years I would have one or two friends over. And we always got to go out to the restaurant of our choice, and my mom would bake and decorate a cake of our choice. I am trying to convince my mom to bake Sophie a cake this year. I was not impressed with the one I got at the bakery last year. I really wish I could make decisions more easily, and not get all worked up like this. I sure hope Sophie doesn't inherit these traits. Luckily she has a 50/50 chance, since Chet doesn't have this problem. He votes for no party. Everytime I settle on a decision, I change my mind again. I thought blogging about it would help, but it hasn't. Blaaaahhh!

Dance Your Ass Off

Really?? Really??? Really?!! So I turned to channel 50 this morning while drying my hair, to see which cycle of America's Next Top Model would be marathoning today. Instead, they were repeating the first episode of Dance Your Ass Off. In case you haven't seen the commercials, or the late night shows making fun of the dancers, the show is a dance contest with overweight contestants. I watch the short intro for one of the contestants, and then the dance. Or, as much of the dance as I could bear to watch. I had to turn it off because I started crying. First off, the outfit the girl was wearing was unreal. Very tight spandex with ripped lace. Come on, at least put them in well fitting costumes. There is no reason why they can't outfit them in nice, flattering dance outfits. Then, the moves were frenetic and wild. It just seemed like it was a set up for them to be made fun of. And why the title? Remember the movie Hairspray? Where there was one dancer that happened to be heavey but could dance well? No, the powers that be have to create a show with a demeaning title, put the contestants in ridiculous costumes, and yet again, exploit the overweight. I'm sorry, this is just how I feel. Don't even get me started on the new show about a bachelor and a bunch of "plump" bachelorettes. I don't remember the title, but it is another"clever" one. Needless to say, the bachelor is bigger too. Because he would have to be, right??! Ugh!!! This shit just pisses me off! Soon we will have our own society. Fat people to the left!

Jon and Kate

Okay, so I haven't seen a whole lot of this show. Just the other day I saw a rerun of the first show, which first aired in 2006. So that would explain why I didn't watch. In 2006 I was at the end of my fertility rope. I definetly would not be watching a show about a woman that had multiples twice with IUI. I couldn't even get pregnant after transferring four embryos with IVF. I know that Chet watched it, and I would always walk out of the room. Then, I was also closing almost every Monday night until I left last August. So, I would catch reruns here and there, mostly the later shows. I tried to watch the marriage renewal episodes last year, but something just didn't seem right. Like, it was to forced. The whole line about doing it to show the kids that they would always be a family. Umm yeah, most married people don't renew their vows after nine years to show their young kids they will always be married. It's kind of a given.

So, the consensus seems to be that Kate is a controlling bitch. A label I have been given on occasion myself. There were a couple of times, like the "coupon" incident, where I thought she was way over the top. I remember looking at Chet and saying she was way worse than me, and he agreed. Now, I would have given him a little shit about forgetting the coupon, but he does that kind of thing all of the time, so it's not a big deal. I kind of see Jon and Kate as exaggerated versions of us. I cringed watching their interviews, because they didn't show each other any respect. It wasn't like that in the first show I saw. Since I didn't see most of the shows up untnil recently, I don't really know the progression, but there is a huge contrast between that first one, and last years. Yes, Kate is controlling and very ocd, but with eight kids, some organization is in order. Jon is obviously a good dad, but his constant eye rolling got very annoying. He acts like a whiny kid. Who really knows about all of the allegations of adultry and such, because who really knows how long they have been seperated. I just find it very sad when couples divorce, ezpecially when kids are involved. Of course, it is better to get divorced than to stay together just for the kids. Fighting and disrespecting each other in front of the kids is very damaging. My parents have been married for forty three years, but when we were teenagers, things were really bad. It got to the point were I thought just break up for God's sake. I won't go into detail, but they are happy now. Chet and I are very different in personality and tempermant. I am high strung, and he is laid back, very laid back. No way could I have meshed with someone like me, and vice versa. Yes, things get difficult sometimes, but that is just marriage. I thank God everyday for him.

I really hope that things workout the best for the children in this situation. I do think they should stop the show, at least for awhile. Though, it could be a good example of how divorced parents make it work with eight kids. It is just too bad that it is all so public, and the kids will someday read all the terrible things being said about theier parents.

What a Day.

So, today started out with an announcement on AOL that Farrah Fawcett had died. I was shocked. Yes, I knew she was sick and probably terminal, but it was suprising still. Plus, she was only 62. This afternoon I went to a Mariners baseball game with my sister who is visiting from out of state, and our parents. They bought the tickets months ago, and though I had planned to take Sophie, I decided not to, since Chet was home. I was very glad I didn't bring her. There is no way she would have sat still, and I would have been chasing her all over the stadium. I love going to games, and this was this first time in about three or four years. I did wish Chet was there, but we had a great time. So, my sister shows me a text that our other sister sent her, saying Michael Jackson died. I couldn't believe it. I really thought I misunderstood. So, I text Chet to turn on the news, but he didn't hear the message come through. When we got to the car, my mom turned on the radio, and yes, it was true. I am just shocked, and sad. I really love Michael Jacksons music. Yes, his behavior got stranger and stranger. But, how could most of us possibly relate to him? He was thrust into an adult business at an early age. He didn't get to have a real childhood. He was pulled in many directions, I am sure. As for the allegations against him, I really don't know. I do think it was easy to think yeah, he is weird, he must be guilty. But, I know from personal experience that child molesters often look like nice, normal adults. They want to blend in, not stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe he really just wanted to act like a child, since he never really got to be a child. I do hope he finds some peace now. The thought that always sticks in my head is "Only the Good Die Young". While I don't know that is true, I do know lots of good people who have died young. I am pretty sure I will die an onry old woman:) Ironically, my sisters and I have been working on a memorial brick for our sister Cathy, who died in a car accident in 1986, at the age of 18. The highschool we graduated from built a new school which opened this year, and they sent out an email months ago detailing the bricks and how we could order them. We decided to make it a suprise for our parents for Mothers Day and Fathers Day. The plan was that when the brick went in they would send us an email with a picture, which we could print out to present to our parents. The brick went in today. Strange timing, I think.

Our President

So, when it came time to vote for our new President last November, it really came down to the lesser of two evils for me. I mean, I really did like Obama, and thought he would be a breath of fresh air for the country. There are things I don't agree with, like the Freedom of Choice Act, but over all, I was happy that he won. I found his first national address very negative. The next went a little too over the other way. Then, he went on the Tonight Show. Even before his appearance, I thought it was not a very Presidential thing to do. Since then, it just seems more and more like he is becoming a celebrated figure in the media. I mean, was it really news that he and Michelle went out on a date? I would just assume that any married President would find some time to spend out with his wife. But why is it news? That whole Kennedy Camelot period was shortly before my time, but it seems like that is being recreated. If ever we needed a serious leader of the free world, this is it. I really think all the pomp and circumstance can wait until after Obama is done with his presidency. And, if this keeps up, he won't get my vote next time. I realize the media is partly to blame, but the President should not be worrying about his image so much. He IS president. He needs to worry about the job at hand. I really wanted Hilary Clinton for President. I can guarentee she would not be making talk show appearances. After all, she would be getting advice from arguably one of the best Presidents of my time. Yeah, yeah, so he was being serviced in the Oval Office by an intern. I can GUARENTEE that did not take as much time as the Tonight Show appearance.

I forgot.

I totally forgot about blogging. Today one of my aunts mentioned that I hadn't blogged in awhile, and it took a minute to even register. Oh yeah, I have a blog. I forgot. I think it is because I have had so much on my mind. Not to mention all the stuff I have been doing, and need to do. The whole job thing has been weighing very heavy on my mind. Then I get depressed, and cry. Sometimes I think, I will just get a part time job. That would be ideal. I do need a job to get out, have some adult contact, and keep current on things. A part time job would be the perfect balance. But, financially, that is not going to cut it. We would still have to go into savings every month, and we can't keep doing that. I knew when I left work that this was just temporary and I would need to find a full time job. I of course wished that in the meantime things would change, and I wouldn't have to. But that is not happening. I have to go back to work. It is very weird to be entrenched in this stay at home mom world, feeling like an imposter. I can't help but feel bad when everyone around me can just stay at home and doesn't have to worry about financially taking care of their family. I don't mind, really. But, I do want to have as much time with Sophie as possible. So, this has been on my mind 24/7. Leading me to forget that I even have a blog.

I just dont get it...

There are so many things that I just do not get. Not that most of these things are wrong. Just that I don't get them. Which is why I so rarely fit in. I have compiled a short list. I reserve the right to add to this list anytime.

People that don't get sarcasm.

"Pro lifers" that murder abortion doctors.

Smoking.

Excessive drinking.

Reckless drivers.

Bad work ethics.

Families that can't get along to the point they don't talk.

Stealing.

Judging someone by they way they look.

Talk radio. Yuk.

Body piercings.

Pet snakes.

Hard partying.

Coffee.

Wine.

Killing.

Abuse.

Gum chewing.

People with no sense of humor.

Bigotry.

Homophobia.

Weapons of mass destruction. Why??

Crocs. Sorry, I don't get it.

Clerks that do not take the next person in line. I wish I could fire them all.

Bullying.

Spanking.

The obsessive need to control how others feed their infants.

People who don't like dogs.

Cruises. Maybe it's my claustrophobia, but the thought of being stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean doesn't do it for me.

Botox.

Fake tanning. Not for me.

The big deal with cussing.

Lying.

The family bed.

Holding grudges.

Gold teeth.

Excessive tatoos. Okay, I'm not sure I get tatoos at all. Though I think it would be kind of cool for Chet to get my initials and Sophie's initials on his shoulders.

Baggy pants that hang down and show the boxers underneath(if you are lucky).

Cartoons.

Divorce. Yes, in some cases it is necessary. But why is it so rampant?

Rude people.

Ice cream that doesn't have any chocolate in it.

People that don't like S'mores. This includes my hubby.

Happy Blog

I'd been thinking lately that I needed to write a more up beat blog at some point. Then when I logged in tonight, I notice there was an ad for a clinical study on depression. So, I guess my blogs have been downers lately. The funny thing is, I have been having a great time lately. I love spring and summer. I don't love the heat, but I love the warm, sunny days. I love barbecues, picnics, trips to the beach,and just sitting out on the patio enjoying our beautiful view of trees. The last summer that I wasn't working was in 1985, and I babysat all summer long. Actually, I babysat from the summer of 1981 on, until I got my job in the summer of 1985. so, while I am looking( a little) for a job, the thought of having the summer to spend with Sophie is very tempting. My last day of work last year was August 29th, so summer was pretty much over. Summer always reminds me of my childhood. We always did lots of fun things in the summer. Plus, no school! Summer also reminds me of the summer of 2007, when we were expecting Sophie. I did get part of that summer off. I started my leave the last week of July, and Sophie was born August 10th. Today Sophie went in her little pool for the first time this year. I pput her in it, standing, and she wanted nothing to do with it. Later, our neighbors came over to join us, and Sophie's little friend who is a year older went right in, and then so did Sophie. It was so much fun to watch all three enjoying the pool, and playing in the backyard. Summer also means Chet barbecueing alot. This year he is working late some nights, but when he is here he usually barbecues. I love the smell of the barbecue. I love all the sounds of summer. I can't wait to enjoy the rest of it. Even if I do have to work at some point.

Who is anonymous?

Okay, I am a little creeped out. Who posted the comment under anonymous? Please identify yourself. Thanks

I need motivation! Plus, a little Facebook rant.

I think my lack of followers is quelching my desire to blog. Like, why blog for four people. Though, I know I have more than four, since I get emails from "followers" commenting, that just don't sign up. Please sign up, please sign up. Just a little nod to one of my favorite rappers.

I apologize in advance to those of you that are on facebook but never write anything, but it bugs me. Mainly because I keep getting comments about how I am "always" on facebook. Umm, no I'm not. It just seems that way, because when I go on facebook, I write a little something. I comment. I sometimes post pictures. I don't lurk on the facebook walls, never commmenting, and then make comments in real life, like "you are on facebook 5000 times a day". I love facebook. It is a great way to connect with people, and even get to know them better. I love typing "what's on my mind". But, if you don't like it, you don't like people's comments, than don't go on facebook! I am a little spastic. I have to be doing several things at once. At work, I did alot of physical activity, as well as a good amount of computer work. When I was in the office, people were in and out. I can't sit too long, so I would go out on the floor and check up on things. Even when I was young, I had to do homework in front of the tv. Or read and watch tv. I have to be doing at least two things at once. So, when Sophie is playing, I am with her, but if she is playing by herself, I jump on the computer. When I am cooking or doing dishes, I have the tv on, and during commercials, I turn it to the computer. I love the computer, I love being online, I love being able to chat. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't do it. I'm just saying...

Worrywortitis.

I wish I could be one of those people that doesn't worry. How great would life be without worrying? I can't imagine. Sometimes, I think I am addicted to worrying. I probably am. I do find myself searching my brain for things to worry about. Like, I know there was something, what was it? Oh, yeah, I need to worry about that. For example, I have always worried about money. Really, I could have all the money in the world and still worry. That's why it was so unlike me to quit my job, which was at least 65% of our income. I went back to work when Sophie was 9 weeks old, because I couldn't imagine taking unpaid time. Now here I am, not working, living on savings which is dwindling fast. Lately I have worried myself sick about that situation. Sometimes I think, it's okay, I will get a job and we will be fine. But then the worrier in me kicks in. Now, Sophie is a whole other source of worry. I worry about her lack of eating. I worry something is going to happen. I worry I am damaging her by being with her all the time. I swear, if I have to hear one more time about her being serious I will scream. I have never made a verbal observation about someones child that wasn't positive. Why do I keep hearing all this crap. Now I have found myself explaining that she is shy. Then I feel bad, that I shouldn't say that in front of her. Sophie is who she is right now, which will change as she grows. Why can't people keep their opinions to themselves? I want Sophie to grow up happy and confident, with good self esteem. I don't want any of this negative, worrying, self doubting crap to affect her. When we are together, she is very happy and sure of herself. Lately around other people she is very unsure. It is a phase, I'm sure. Today when I picked her up from the church nursery, I was told she wasn't herself. Didn't want a snack, didn't want anyone to touch her, etc. Something else to worry about. I said I think she is getting her molars, which is true. But maybe that isn't it. Maybe that's just her. If we could just let kids be who they are and let them know that's okay, we would have alot less worrying, self doubting adults. In my opinion:)

Second hand wine?

So, we hear about second hand smoke all the time. What about second hand alcohol? I am not totally against the idea of a drink now and again. However, I do not understand the whole drunk thing, and I do not find it fun to be around a bunch of drunk people. To this end, Chet and I had a non alcoholic wedding. This did not go over too well with my family, but it was our wedding and we wanted to enjoy it. Which is possible without alcohol, for us anyway, but I guess not for everyone. We had an early wedding, at 11:30am, with a lunch reception on a lake. It was beautiful and relaxing and left us with the evening to ourselves. It was very much us. Of course, it is alot of fun to go to weddings and dance, and drink champaigne(I pass). A wedding is a time for great celebration, however is the most fun for the bride and groom. Though, like in any situation where there is drinking, I would assume there are designated drivers for anyone drinking. I have recently found myself in a social situation where there is alot of drinking, and some of those drinkers drive home. For me, these events would be much more fun with a little drinking, but not the excessive drinking. I am really trying to be more social, and I am truly interested in meeting new people and getting to know them. However, I don't need to know all the tmi that spews out when they are drunk. I mean, shouldn't you know my name before you share all the intimate details of your life? The thing is, I'm sure they don't remember what they said or did the next morning. Joking about drunk driving? From grown women. Mothers!!! Maybe I will never find a group that I fit into. I mean, I am sarcastic, I cuss sometimes, I make fun of myself and others, I am far from perfect. But I don't like to get drunk. I can't have more than one drink, because even that effects me, and thus I only have one if Chet is with me and driving. Usually, just on Cinco de Mayo, and after this year, I think it will be a long while before I have another. In a few months, I have to host one of these events, and wine is expected. I haven't decided how to handle this. I don't want to be responsible for people drinking and driving. Nor do I want people to get drunk at my house. Maybe I can hand out tokens at the door, limiting each person to only one drink. Or, just have no alcohol and try to serve really good food so no one will notice. Or, I could make a yummy punch, tell them it has alcohol in it, when it really doesn't. Like, a reverse spike. Ooh, I like that idea. I swear, I have had a hangover all day. I didn't drink. I think all the fumes gave me a buzz, and a headache. Second hand wine.

Public restroom etiquitte

This is one of those "common sense" things, which really isn't common at all. I can't begin to tell you the horrors of dealing with public restrooms in my long retail career. You wouldn't believe the disgusting messes left for us to clean up. Or all the women that walked right out of the stall without washing their hands, and then went and touched merchandise. What about talking on your cell phone while in the stall, taking care of business? Of course, the bathroom is also a great place to steal and leave your old undies. Who are these people that have no dignity and will leave their icky tings on the floor, or wall for us to take care of?

Today, before I left the mall, I stopped at a restroom inside a large department store. I had Sophie in the stroller, so I needed the large stall. There were at least twenty stalls, and most were empty. Except the large one, which wasn't marked handicapped, but everyone knows it is for wheelchairs or people who need assistance. Or strollers. Obviously I can't leave Sophie outside while I go in the stall. Even if I want to leave the stroller, full of stuff, trying to use a regular stall with Sophie in there is very difficult. So I waited. And waited. And waited. Ten minutes. Finally, the woman emerged. Not handicapped. I know this because in my fidgeting, I could see she was not on the bar side, but the other side, adjusting her clothes. At one point, I thought maybe she was concealing merchandise. Maybe she was. So, I push the stroller in, to find not only did she not flush, but she had at least ten seat covers on the seat, atill there! I couldn't flush them all, so I had to pick them up and put them in the sanitary disposal. Gross. Now, when all the stalls are being used, I would expect anyone to use the larger stall, but this wasn't the case. Also, why does someone need to be in there ten minutes? She wasn't even using the toilet most of the time. I could see her moving around. This is not the first time this has happened to me. We have at least another year or more of stroller use, so I guess I have more of this to look forward to.

So, please try and use public restroom common sense. Don't use the phone. Wash your hands. Don't smear your bodily secretions on the wall. Or write on the walls. Or draw. Or let your kids peak under the stalls. I will try and make sure mine doesn't. Unless you piss me off on my way to the stall...

My name is Ann, and I chose to formula feed.

The breastfeeding question came up years and years ago, with my husband. Both his mother and sister had breastfed, and it was something he was rather set on. From the get go, I knew I did not want to breastfeed. We had this conversation a few times throughout the years, even before I went off the pill. Right along side the whole "I can't be in the delivery room because I faint at the site of blood" arguement. Needless to say, he was in the delivery room, cut the cord, and helped me formula feed our daughter for her first year. He did have to go in the bathroom and throw up when I got the epidural, and then dissapeared for hours while I was in labor, but he was there for the important part.

After the suprise of finding out I was pregnant after years of trying and no fertility help at the time, I had a rough pregnancy. I was on bedrest most of the first trimester for an internal bleed. I was worried sick the whole time about the baby. I also agonized my entire pregnancy over the breastfeeding vs. formula feeding question. I had to go back to work, and there was no where to pump there. I needed to go right back on my medicine. I also have a long history of depression, and was worried about needing meds for that. Plus, I knew I would be very stressed out about breastfeeding. If I formula fed, Chet could help with feedings. I was 40, married for ten years, and in for quite an adjustment, according to my Ob, anyway. Throughout the pregnancy, I discussed my decision with my OB at all my appointments. Of course, she thought breastfeeding for six months would be best, but she did not pressure me. I felt alot of pressure from outside sources. Breast is best, after all. Yada, Yada, Yada. I knew in my heart, it was not for me. MY OB would only write me a prescription for my medication if I wasn't going to breastfeed. I take metformin, which is a diabetic drug, but I take it for the pcos and insulin resistance I have. Had she allowed me to be on it my entire pregnancy, I most likely would not have had gestational diabetes, because it keeps my sugars in check. So, by the time I was going to be induced at 39 weeks, I had made a firm decision. I would formula feed.

Every nurse that was in and out of my room from check in to check out wanted to know why I wasn't breastfeeding. The pediatrician was fine with it. The nurses, not so much. I just told everyone that asked that I had to be on medication. Two new nurses came in when they were getting ready to check us out, and my hubby had left the room. I gave them my pat answer. Sure as shit, they come back in saying it's okay, that's a class B drug, you can still breastfeed. Do you want to try? We will help you. I sat there speechless. They almost talked me into it. I told them my OB wasn't comfortable with it. They backed off. I really don't understand why people are so invested in how others feed their babies. I could have said I just don't want to. Or, I have been through hell, I have my miracle, I just want to sit back and enjoy her. It was in my chart that I was formula feeding. Just leave it at that. Why is it their business?! I went back to work when Sophie was nine weeks old, and was asked if I was breastfeeding. When I said no, one person actually said "Oh nevermind, it's you". What the eff? Like something in my personality screams evil formula feeder!

Now, I will admit there were a coule of times that I couldn't get Sophie to drink her formula and tried to give her the breast. My milk did come in, something else I was worried about. She wouldn't take it, which is probably a good thing. I know I did the right thing for us. As it turned out, we had an easy adjustment. Every day was like Christmas, and still is. Formula feeding was absolutly the right decision for us. Sophie never got sick until she was 13 months old and went to the Church nursery for a couple hours. She has only had a couple colds since, always two days after going to the nursery, and all mild. She is a smart, healthy little girl. I do not feel I harmed her by formula feeding her. I do feel that had I gone against my instinct and breastfed her, I would not have given her the best of myself. I admire anyone that brestfeeds. I think that's great. But, it is not for me, and that doesn't make me an inferior mom. Just an outcast as usual, a role I'm used to.

This is why I don't like Labels!

The people who know me well would say that I am conservative. Mainly, because they are very liberal, and we don't even get in to politcal conversations. Number one, I am anti abortion. Number two, I voted for Bush in the 2004 election. I did not have any faith in Kerry, we were in a war that Bush started, and after 911, I was very leary of national security. These two things are appalling to my liberal friends and relatives. Anyone that is truly conservative would definetly call me liberal. While I consider myself pro life, I do not fit into the Church's vision of pro life. I do not believe in abortion. The phrase "A womans right to choose" literally makes my skin crawl. I just don't understand it. However, I do not believe illegalizing abortion will stop it. It would only make things worse. I do believe it should be very tightly regulated. My views on this subject deserve their own blog.

So, I took one of those nonsensical Facebook quizess, and was labeled "Very liberal". Shock and awe to those that know me well. Of course, those quizes are hardly accurate. Though, this one had alot more questions, and seemed much more indepth. After I got the result, I realized I was signed in under my husbands name, so I took it again under my name. Same result. So here I am questioning myself. I do have some over the top ideas that I suppose are super liberal, like legalizing prostitution, and certain drugs. I just do not understand why someone who is lonely and wants to pay for sex can't, but someone that sleeps around, gets pregnant and doesn't want the responsibility can legally kill an unborn child. It makes no sense to me. Two people that love each other and want to spend their lives together and raise children, can't in most states. In some states they can't adopt. But, someone who doesn't want to go through a pregnancy and put the child up for adoption or care for the child themselves, can terminate the pregnancy. Where are our values??? I value love, family, peace, and kindness. I do not find it moral to condemm people for who they love.

I am square. I don't understand why people get drunk. I don't break the law, I don't steal, I don't lie(unless I am playing a game). I did live with my hubby prior to marriage, though we were engaged. That was the right thing for me, and us. Boy, did I learn some things in that year and a half that would have thrown me if we had already been married. I am very conservative with money, and my hubby wasn't, until I got ahold of him:) Do I have a liberal heart and a conservative mind, or vice versa? I don't know. I just know what I think and believe. Conservative, liberal, independant(my choice), it doesn't matter. I am who I am. Goes to show, you really have to get to know me to know all my layers. The same for everyone, I'm sure.

May Day 1974

Today is May Day! I love May Day. It signifies to me that summer is coming and flowers are in bloom. To my dismay, May Day seems to be lost on the younger generation. Or, maybe it isn't taught in school anymore. Now, don't expect that I remember the exact meaning of May Day. I will have to google it. All I know is that there would be a May pole, with beautiful ribbons flowing down, and girls dancing around it. For us, it meant making paper flowers, leaving them on a doorstep, ringing the bell,and running. Actually, I believe we left real flowers on the neighbors doorsteps. But, when I was in the first grade, we made flowers baskets out of paper, and I was so excited about running home, ringing the bell, and leaving them on the doorstep for my mom.

Keep in mind, I had just turned 7 years old. I walked to and from school by myself. We lived on 83rd and 3rd, and school was on 80th and 1st, I believe. So, I had to cross a semi busy intersection, first across 80th, and then across 3rd. I ran home with glee that day, so excited about leaving the "flowers" on the doorstep. As I crossed 80th, an elderly couple stopped and got out of the car, panicking. They had hit me with their car, or so they said. I was in a crosswalk, and had the walk sign. To this day, I don't remember being hit. I did fall, but I got up, and was happily continuing on my way. But, No! Someone that lived across the street saw it and called 911. The elderly couple and others that gathered around would not let me leave. I was scared, as these were strangers, and annoyed. A fire engine was there quickly. Then an ambulance, and police car. They made me sit in the ambulance. They wanted to know where I lived. I told them my mom was very busy. My sister Cathy was in kindergarten, my sister Gina was four, and my sister Lisa was 10 monts old. I begged them to let me be on my way. They were ruining the suprise! They wouldn't let me move from the ambulance. I saw my mom pull up and started to run to her, but they stopped me. I yelled, that IS my mom! The elderly man was quite shaken. They had to check him out too, I think. I told my mother that they did not hit me! The woman that called 911 told her that they did. I was so upset. They ruined May Day! Now that I think about it, maybe this is were my need for control began, or maybe it is something I was born with. All I know is, at barely 7, I was extremely upset with these adults for disturbing my mother and ruining May Day. And not listening to me. I was fine, I just wanted to go home.

I can't believe that was 35 years ago! Last night I got tears in my eyes at the thought of Sophie some day leaving flowers on the doorstep, ringing the bell, and hiding. Of course, she won't be walking to school at the age of seven. Her mommy is a little controlling. Then again, Sophie is already extremely strong willed. Hmm, where could she have gotten that from?

Reality TV

I am a self confessed reality show addict. I don't watch all of them, but I have probably perused most of them at least once. Why do I like them? Because they are entertaining. Not because they are real. Come on, they are productions. Is anyone really suprised when some of these subjects go on to actual acting careers? Tune in to certain shows, and the acting doesn't come close to the acting that is done on reality tv. The ones that I like are the contests, like Survivor, Amazing Race, Big Brother, Top Chef, etc. I always root for the underdog, which is my usual m.o. The only one I would love to do is the Amazing Race, but I am not nearly in shape enough at this point in time. If I were to be on that show, I would do anything I could to win the race. Lie, backstab, whatever. I am astounded when people get onto these shows, and within days everyone loves each other. Survivor is awesome. I could never do it, as I don't even like to get my hands dirty. The mind game part of it though, I would be great at. I have no doubt I could outwit alot of people. Make friends? Probably not. On all these shows, inevitably there is always someone that wants to play the game honestly. They make alliances, and promises. To people they just met. I'm sorry, but for a million dollars, I would be looking out for number one. End of story. Of course there are lots of people that hate reality tv. There are many people that won't watch it. It's crap they say. What do you want to bet that these same people watch the "news" religiously.

The first reality tv? The news. I rarely watch the news. Occasionly I get sucked in by a promo of some important story which always ends up being at the end of the newscast, in which case I miss it. I don't watch the whole thing. Ever. My first problem is, I have a low tolerance for newscasters that cannnot speak. I have yet to find a local anchor person that doesn't constantly flub their lines. Yes, I said it, their lines. Could I get in front of a camera and say this crap without messing up? No. But if this is your chosen career, learn to speak. Secondly, the same story does not need to be shown over and over again. Thirdly, stop sensationalizing everything. Everytime something happens in the world, be it a tsunami, some sort of outbreak, tornados, etc., our local news has to talk about the possibilities of these things happening here. Really. I can't speak much on the national or world news, as I never watch. I can't take the negativity. The doom and gloom has to stop. We know bad things can happen. But, so can good things. We know the economy is bad, but until we are all living in tent cities, shut the eff up. Some people actually buy into all this crap. When I mention that I need to start looking for a job soon, I am told there are no jobs. There are jobs. It could be a long hard process. I may have to take a job at a lower pay rate, that is not my ideal job. But, everything is not completely in the toilet. We need some upbeat, positive news, like pronto. Of course, we need to know that there is an outbreak of swine flu. Do we need to be told the worse case scenerio over and over? Tell us about it, tell us the precautions to take, and move on. Stop all the what ifs. Why does the news have to be a specific block of time? Say there is really only 15 minutes worth of news one night, why not leave it at that and use the rest of the air time for a feel good story. Or a reality show. I get what little news I need from the internet, but mostly from my people around me that actually waste their time watching this crap. I am too busy with my family. When I get to sit down and watch tv, I want to be entertained. I don't want to sit and watch someone being paid six figures to flub the word swine.

Seriously

People are just too serious this days. I had an epiphany back when I was 18. I was at a nice restaurant with my friend and her family for her 18th birthday, and a piece of steak fell off my fork and smack dab into my purse. Shit. These things always seemed to happen to me. As I recall, I took my napkin and picked it out. The thing was, all the sudden it hit me. This was funny. After that, anytime in my life when strange or weird things happen to me, I laugh. They happen ALOT. Of course, many people will tell you that I take things seriously. First, I have a serious face. Second, I don't always express myself well. Third, I do take certain things seriously, like work. Though, I have really mellowed out, especially since I became a mom. The thing is, I have a certain level of anxiety, so, say I was running late for something important, I would get worked up. Thus, I try never to run late. Never for work, or appoinments. Casual meetings I don't get worked up about. Anyway, I really think we all need to stop taking life so seriously.

I will admit, I started wasting time reading the comments on certain internet sites. Like comments to news stories. They are truly ridiculous. Most of the comments are very ignorant, bashing people based on looks, race, sexuality, etc. Today there was an article about a woman that was fired because she called in sick and then was on Facebook. What the F? Now, anyone who has ever worked with me or for me, will tell you I don't call in sick, and get very annoyed with people that do. I would be at work sick as a dog and have someone call and say they just can't make it because they have their period, they don't feel like it, their dog ate their homework, etc. On more than one occasion I would go to the local fair and see someone I knew was scheduled(I did the schedule) and return to work the next day to find they called out sick. Thus, I rarely believed anyone, unless they really sounded sick. So this woman was laying in bed, accsessing facebook from her iphone, and got caught. Then these idiots respond that she "stole" sick time. I'm sorry, some people have to be doing something all the time. I am usually doing several things at once. Part of the reason I never called in sick was I can't just lay around. It is too depressing. I was on bedrest at the beginning of my pregnancy, and had it continued any longer, I would have gotten a laptop. Instead I had a portable dvd player, watched tv, read and racked up incredible cell phone bills. Who gives a shit if she was on facebook? This was in another country, in Europe I think. I just don't see how this could get her fired. Plus, these stupid comments from idiots that aren't anywhere working themselves, unless they are at work using the internet. Seriously.

Parenting is another subject that is taken so seriously. I really thought I would be an uptight mom, worried about every little thing. I am an A class worrier, or I used to be. As it turns out, I am way more laid back than I thought. So, Sophie eats dog food sometimes. We play ball in the house. She drops her binky and sometimes, with no other alternative, I lick it clean. I formula fed, BY Coice!!! Plus, I do really need to clean up my language, but I don't think Sophie will be scarred for life if she hears a dirty word.

The economy is in the toilet. Or so we are told, five effing times a frickin day. Shut up already! So everyone won't be able to have 6000 square foot homes and Juicy to cover their asses. Maybe people will start to appreciate the simple things. I really hope so. If so many people didn't take everything so seriously, we wouldn't be in this effed up mess in the first place. There is a saying, if we want things to be different, we need to do things differently. Duh. Gee, how can me stimulate this economy? Lets start by legalizing marijuana. Smart business people could set up shop. Legalize prostitution while you are at it. It is legal to drink and smoke cigarettes, but we actually spend money we don't have on prostitution stings and arresting people for smoking mojo??? Make legitimate businesses. Hell, repeat customers could have a savings card. Like, after the ninth blow job, the tenth is free. Not only would these business generate some money, but maybe once more people are relaxing and getting laid, everyone wouldn't be so flippin serious.

What a Day...

So, today started when I could hear my husband looking for something (a very common occurance). "Where's the flashlight?" Why? There is a leak under the kitchen sink. No effing way! I am still dealing with the whole leaky dishwasher flooded the floor in the kitchen and dining room fiasco. We have a brand new kitchen floor, new carpet padding, a repaired dishwasher(not even three years old), and supposedly dried out subfloor under the cabinets. What we don't have is a resolution to the damaged counter where the dishwasher was pulled out to replace the floor. Shockingly, it is hard to match 24 year old gold lanimate. So, after not finding anything in the samples I was given, I am supposed to find the time to go to the showroom and look for more. Ater it was proven that the floor company caused this damage(involving a tell all photo I snapped the day before the new floor was to be installed) I was told they would replace the strip they damaged. So, not only will that not match the top counter, but the two sides that meet it, and the whole rest of the stripping won't match. I did point out how ridiculous this is, but I think we are at a standstill. Anyway, so my hubby "thinks" he found the problem, and will check it when he gets home. Needless to say, as soon as Sophie went down for a nap, I checked it out. Soaked. Turned on the water, and watched it drip. Four insurance people later, I'm told to call the mismatch strip replacing floor guy, who of course wondered why on earth they would tell me to call him. Umm, because your guys were incompetent and probably damaged something under the sink??? I will call a plumber. Plumber guy came right out, said it wasn't related, fixed it, and charged me $300.00. I will be calling insurance tomorrow. I just can't believe that the shut off valve went cupooey right after multiple people were in and out turning the water off and on. In the meantime, the cupboard doors are open and being fanned in hopes of no more damage to the subfloor and my new kitchen floor. Sophie, being her Mommys' daughter, kept closing the doors, because noone wants to look at opened cabinet doors. Except Chet.

In the meantime, earlier in the day some guy in a uniform dragged a yellow hose across the back of our property and sprayed the blackberry bushes behind us. We live on a greenbelt, which I am told is owned by the fire dept. Considering where this forest borders, I don't think they will be trying to build a firehouse anytime soon. Up until three years ago, our property and the property of our three neighbors was well protected by all this growh. Then we get a new neighbor who wants a new fence and doesn't want things growing over it, so in comes a backhoe making a road behind our houses. Not big enough for a vehicle, but a wide path for anyone that wants to venture from the main road and walk right into our backyards. The next summer, most of the path had been covered, and here came the spray. Chet was ticked, because he likes the blackberries. I love the view, especially in the summer when everything is in bloom. So, sprayer guy spent two minutes behind our house, causing Simon to bark for at least two hours. Not to mention, it is a good thing I was decent, and not outside in my nightgown throwing poopy into the woods when our unexpected guest arrived. When you have total privacy, you take things for granted.

So, it is Monday, and I had alot of cleaning and laundry to do. I just could not get motivated. I did get some things done during Sophies nap. Plumber guy finally left after 6pm, so I started making dinner. Sophie was very cranky. I gave her some cheese, but when dinner was ready, she wouldn't eat any chicken and rice. She drank 2 sippies of milk and wanted more. And, she wanted to be held. I did get her to eat a couple of pieces of melon. Then I realize she is very warm. Trying to take her temp was sooo fun!!! Luckily, we have two thermometers, so she played with one while I took her temp. Fever of almost 102. Sophie has never had a fever. I was going to give her a lukewarm bath, but she was very tired, so I gave her Tylenol and put her down. Then I went back to laundry and vacumming. In my defense, I am dusting with one hand while blogging. But I am so tired. And worried about Sophie. And my new floor. And the money I am out. Mostly Sophie. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day and my Soso will feel better. Oh, and plumber guy caught me by suprise with his quick response, so I had to rally the dogs. Toby was hard to catch, and the guy wouldn't even come in until I wrangled him. Toby is very loving and doesn't bark. Simon wouldn't shut up, and the guy was uber annoyed. Hey, at least he didn't come around the back early in the morning. That would have been way more scary..

What the hay is wrong with baby talk???

Let me start by saying, while I can be quite articulate when the situation warrants, I have always had an affinity for nicknames, accents, funny voices, abbreviations, etc. Not so much baby talk per say, but you get my drift. I have many nicknames for my dogs. I rarely call Simon, my oldest pug, Simon. It's usually pooky, short for pooky bear, which derived from tweety bird. Toby is usually Tobiola, or often, "Toby is an ola", and other such goofiness. So, after baby talking to my pugs for years, obviously I'm not going to go all proper with my Soso, So pie, Sophiola, Sophie Krayeski is a Krayeski named Sophie, my sweetest pea, etc. Sophie doesn't wear diapers, but panties. I actually got that from my mom, who called them that the first day we came home from the hospital. It stuck. Now, "the girlies" derived from "girly parts', which I started from day one. I never had a name for my girly parts, since I make a habit not to talk about them, or to them. The thing is, I have always talked to Sophie. Hello, I talk to my dogs all the time. Simon was the first to know every time I got a positive pregnancy test, or a negative for that matter. What? He always follows me to the bathroom. So, I always explain, we have to change your panties, we have to wipe the girlies, you have stinky pooey, and so on. As she has gotten older and learning to talk, I do use more proper names. Like, even though she calls milk "gilk", I say milk, so she will learn correctly. But, poopy is poopy, girlies are girlies, pooky is pooky.

Now, it wasn't until I brought my lovely home and eventually started reading the mommy board on my favorite site that I "learned" baby talk is no longer cool. As a matter of fact, lots of these ladies "hate" baby talk and have a fit when others around them talk this nonsense to their babies. Proper words only!! Some won't even use poopy, it's a bm, or bowel movement. Or, a vulva and vagina! Really! Unless you make a living as an OB/Gyn, or a professor teaching potential girly part doctors, WHY do you have to use these words? If you want to use them, fine. To each their own. But, I reserve the right to make up any and all phrases, songs and words that I want. If people want to feel all superior, fine. However, after working with the public and thousands of associates over the years, a large percentage couldn't even tell you what a noun or verb are. After awhile, I found myself saying things like, "she don't do that". Ugh!!! Sophiola is an ola named Sophie will speak proper english, but I hope when she one day has a child, she will still have enough sense to call a poopy a poopy.

My Family

Tonight we went to a family event at our church. Chet, Sophie, and I. Right in the middle of it, I realized, wow, I am here, at a family event, with my own little family. For so long, it was Chet, I and the dogs. Still a family, but not a complete family, not for me. I always wanted children. We did go to a few "family" events prior to Sophie. Years ago, we were very excited to take our dogs to pug parties. Well, that didn't really work out, since Simon doesn't play well wih others, and Toby wasn't really into them either. So now, we have our little family, including our two crazy dogs, whom Sophie adores. I am just so happy, so lucky, and so blessed. I would love to add to our family, but I am not sure that is in the cards, and that is okay. Afterall, We are the Krayeskis, the Mighty, Mighty Krayeskis. Yes, I sing this goofy song all the time. The scary thing is, I used to sing this to the dogs long before Sophie came along.:)

America's Next Top Model

Why I am I so addicted to this show?? Seriously, the only season that I haven't seen every episode of is Season 1, and since reruns are on now every weekend, I have seen most of those. Okay, these girls are like half a foot taller than me, and weigh less than my purse. I'm not joking, try and lift it sometime. Maybe it's because Tyra is such a train wreck. Maybe it's "Miss" Jay, or Mr. Jay, or all the cattyiness. I just cannot get enough. Perhaps I get an evil pleasure from watching a size 2 being told she is eating to many cookies, and needs to slim down to make it in the modeling world. For what ever reason, I find it very entertaining. You would think I would get sad and depressed watching a bunch of skinny girls parade around, whining that they are too fat. I don't. I just laugh at their hijinks and root for the underdog. Even if she weighs less than my shoes.

More Whine than Wine

Okay, I have to confess, I don't get the whole wine thing. Maybe it's because I have never had good wine. I think the only wine I have ever had was the occasional sip at a holiday dinner when I was growing up, and at communion, sometimes. I really am not much of a drinker at all. My cardinal rule is, I only eat or drink things that I know taste good, or look or smell like they may taste good. I do eat veggies that I may not love, because they are good for me. Also, I prefer to hang on to the few facilties that I have. Thus, I will have the occasional Raspberry Margarita(yum), when I am not driving, and I have some Raspberry Smirnhoffs in my pantry that I will have with Diet Coke in the rare event I am in the mood for a drink. The mere smell of wine goes straight to my head. All around me it seems, everyone loves wine. And drinks it. And then drives. I won't go there on that subjuect yet. Suffice it to say, having lost my sister in a car accident were drinking wasn't even involved, I don't understand how people can drink at all and then drive. There are so many terrible, sober drivers out there, and then seemingly smart people add alcohol to the mix. Unbelievable. Back to the subject at hand. I just am not a whine drinker. Add that to list of all the things I do not have in common with the majority of my peers, and it just adds to my social ackwardness. So, I am a 42 year old mom to a toddler that doesn't drink whine, or coffee, and is anxious alot of the time. Woo hoo! Good thing I'm funny. Of course, I am usually too shy to be funny in a crowd. If only I could find something that would loosen me up. Maybe I should cook me up some raspberry vodka chocolate..

My Mommy tagline

I have been frequenting the same message board for years. After having my daughter, I got to move to the "mommy board". I mostly lurk there, and pipe in occaionally. Most of the time I have to sit staring at my screen, biting my tongue, or rather, willing my fingers not to type. You see, many women on there have a parenting philosophy they will defend to the depths. Unfortunately, defending often means attacking the opposite view. Neither of which I have much interest in. My parenting philosophy for the most part, is do what works. On top of all this, in the tagline of their signatures, they sometimes will have their parenting style in a nutshell. For example, "breastfeeding, babywearing, cloth diapering, cosleeping stay at home mom to a well adjusted child". I have thus far warded off the great temptation to make my own tagline. I will make one for your enjoyment, though.
"Formula feeding, disposable diapering, stroller pushing, sweets giving, occasionally swearing, lenient mommy to one beautiful, binky addicted, dvd watching, pugaholic in training, crib sleeping princess".

Embracing my inner stay at home momminess

I am NOT a stay at home mom. I am a working mom, on sabbatical. First of all, that is just my lot in life, I have to work. My husband and I are partners, and have been successful at it for over the 12 years we have been married. Not business partners, but life/marriage/parental partners. We both work, we both do household chores, we both take care of our dogs, and now, we both parent our daughter. Of course, things are not all divided up 50/50. He does some, like about 100% of the grocery shopping, I do some, like taking care of all the bills, vacuuming, etc. Up until I left my job, because I was salaried, I usually worked more hours than he did, so he actually did more than his share of the cooking and the dishes. Since I have been home with Sophie, I do alot more of my share around the house. I needed a career change, I needed time with Sophie, so I left my job with the idea of taking up to a year off. In all honesty, I was hoping that things would change, and maybe I would be able to stay home. But, I also was convinced that I not only needed to work financally, but for my own sanity. If I didn't have to get up for work in the morning, what would I get up for? Joke on me, I still get up for work in the morning! The best job I have ever had! It has taken awhile to get my footing. I like to go do things, but I am very tight with money, even when I have it. The exciting thing is I have learned to budget much better, and I thought I was doing a good job before. Spending this time with Sophie has been invaluable, for both of us. Of course, I am not the best housewife. I just don't spend the time cleaning that I should. I do like my house clean, so it is always straightened and neat looking, but there are some scary things lurking in the closets and drawers. As I tell my hubby, if I knew this was going to be permanent, I would do a better job. Right now, I am sucking up every minute with Sophie that I can. And I feel like I would be (and momentarily am) a great stay at home mom. Who knew?!

Easterversary

Yesterday was Easter, and our 12th wedding anniversary. It's funny, because we planned our wedding for a year and a half, and when we went to book the church, the date we picked, April 19th, there was something going on, so we picked the week before. It never occured to me that it would sometimes fall on Easter, until the next year. At some point I looked at a calendar and realized our first anniversary was on Easter. Pretty cool, I thought. Then Easterversary came, and while I did receive an Easter suprise of some sort, no anniversary gift. I thought I had been cheated. Little did I realize that was just a hint of holidays to come. That year, we went to Vancouver, stayed in a beautiful hotel, and had a wonderful time. Over the years, we have had some unfortunate anniversaries, like the year I miscarried on that day, the next year when I had surgery that day, and in 2007, when I got to have my first appointment with the diabetic nurse who told us all the terrible risks of gestational diabetes. Last year, our anniversary was on a Saturday, and Chet and I took Sophie to downtown Seattle and the Pike Place Market for the first time. It was almost 80 degrees that day, and we stopped at one of our favorite restaurants on the way home. A wonderful day. This year, it was raining the day before, so we went to my favorite mall and watched Sophie have a blast in the kids play area. Then we stopped at the same restaurant, where Sophie sat in a booster seat for the first time. Such a big girl! She did so well, and we had another great day. Sunday, we went to church, where we had to stand, even though we arrived early. Sophie ws so beautiful in her new Easter outfit. She did so well during mass, I think it was a blessing that we had to stand. Sophie can get pretty squirmy in the pew. Plus, there are some hymnals with torn pages she may know something about.. Then we came home to see that the Easter bunny had indeed visited. We had a blast checking everything out and watching Sophie have such a great time. Then we went to my parents, where my Dad hid lots of eggs with quarters for Sophies piggy bank. It was the best Easter ever, making it a pretty darn good Easterversary. I can't wait for the next one. Then again, Sophie will be about 12, so maybe I can:) I do know that I want to savor every moment in between.