Chaos or Anarchy?

Chaos is defined as "a state of extreme confusion and disorder".

Anarchy is defined as "a state of lawlessness and disorder (usually resulting from a failure of government)".

I believe we have both in our household. Anarchy starts when my past methods of direction and discipline have been deemed null and void by my toddler. Chaos is what results when I don't get a fast handle on his new take of what's appropriate and acceptable behavior. I believe we go through this process on a weekly basis right now.

I also believe that part of it results from him developing faster than I think he is. He's not challenged in his current room at school, but he can't move to the next room until he's 2. So, right now, he's the oldest in a room of 18-24 month olds and his development is a bit stalled. I also think that we're holding him back at home by now holding him fully accountable for his responsibilities or expanding his responsibilities. Too often I find myself doing what he should be doing just because I can do it faster and move on to the next thing. ie, picking up his toys. We have lately contemplated chucking the high chair and moving him into a booster seat at the dinner table. I'm also thinking of putting a big chest in the living room and having him put all his toys back in the chest at night before we start our bedtime routine. He's also perfectly capable of wiping up his spills.

Any more ideas for what I can hold a basically 2-year old accountable for in order to develop his sense of responbility and belonging?

The Carseat Battle

My toddler has been in the terrible two's for several months now. He isn't actually turning 2 until next month. Ummmm...I was not prepared for that!

K has some great tantrum moves and almost every time we get in the vehicle, there is a battle over getting in the carseat. Now, at 2 years old and 30 pounds, the boy should be able to get his own little self in that carseat. It struck me two days ago and I'm STILL lifting him up and putting him in the carseat. Why??? I need to let him grow up a little and take some responsibility for getting in his carseat. So, for the last two days that's what we have been doing. Only, the resulting battles went from bad to worse. It went from blatant ignoring of the parents to hitting and saying "NO!"...in the vehicle...in public parking lots...in the garage...in front of daycare (where 20 other parents are getting their perfectly behaved little children in and out of cars without any issues). If you are ever looking for me when I'm out with K, I'll be the parent with my legs sticking out of the backdoor of a Yukon with a screaming 2 year old shouting "Nooooo!!" as if I'm hurting him all the while he's backed himself all the way against the passenger side back door and decided to try the door handle in an effort to escape (I've locked all the doors). Once I'm finished wrestling said toddler into the carseat, there will be a lot of tears, a lot of "NOOO"s, and some slapping---- from the toddler. I'll be calmly backing out of the vehicle and slamming the door shut while taking a deep breath. I'm really at a loss here. I maintain my calm, tell him that he has to get in carseat, and reiterate that we do NOT hit. I do resort to bribing when I have something handy and the overall process goes much smoother and he's more than happy to get in carseat. All the above happens when A) I have no bribing material or B) it doesn't matter what I have, he ain't going for it and he's not getting in his carseat come hell or high water.

Moms....any input?

Ramblings

Long time no post! I got sucked in by Facebook. And now I'm being fickle and leaning more towards Blogger. Not that I would totally abandon my cute little farm in Farmville...I could never do that. Or give up my role as bella mafia in Mafia Wars, either. Nooooo, Facebook has me by the hair on those two. What did I do with my time before that? Oh yeah...I put up laundry.

K-man is 23 months old now. We saw a new pediatric allergist two weeks ago to get an update on his allergies. His blood draw was two days ago, so we should have some results next week. I do think that he's growing out of some of his allergies. We don't see near the number of incidences of eczema on him as we used to. He ate McDonald's french fries yesterday with NO reactions! YAY! And now I'm working on a cake recipe for his 2 year birthday cake. I think we can come up with something that tastes decent. I'm not worried about what he'll think about it since I highly doubt he'll even touch it. Hubster and I will take him to Party City this weekend and see what cartoon character ellicits the best response out of him. I'm guessing either Pablo from the Backyardigans or Blue from Blue's Clues (pronounced Coo-Coo's).

Then we'll need to do some gift shopping for him for his birthday and for Christmas. Trying not to go overkill on it but he does need a serious overhaul on his toy collection...it's all from over a year ago. His favorites right now are the LeapFrog phonics alphabet fridge set. And he's getting pretty good at singing his ABC's. He also loves building with his blocks (aka Legos). I'm not sure what all to get him for gifts. I'm thinking a big honking dump truck or firetruck to push around. Maybe a little basketball goal that I think Daddeeee will play with more than babeeee.

Did I say that my baby is turning two in less than a month? My baby. My toddler. My boy. My little man. I don't want to be pregnant again but I'm wanting another baby. This is going too fast!!

Halloween 20009

Another round of Halloween at work!!

Four Years

We said, "I do." four years ago today. And I'd do it all over again.

My boy's got some moves...

What happens when we turn on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and they start singing the "Hot Dog" song. And I HAVE to get a camcorder so that I can record in low light...any suggestions?

First Fling at Falafel

I tried my hand at falafel for the first time last weekend. It was a kit...add water...let stand...form into patties...fry...eat. Maybe I don't know what good falafel tastes like, but I really enjoyed this. I didn't have any yogurt or tahinia or cucumbers, so to go with my concoction I broke out the bottle of catalina dressing. Ummmm...YUM! Facified ketchup. How southernly middle eastern.

Our first vacation

We did it. It's been over two years since the last time but we did it - and with a toddler in tow. We went on vacation. Albeit, it was only 2 hours from home. It was only for two nights. And it was at a place I ensured was kid friendly with a lot of room to run and lots of animals to look at. And it rained the entire time.

Things we learned:

• Being cooped up in a little two room cabin (that's one bathroom and then the whole rest of the place) with a 21 month old is an interesting and exhausting task.
  

• The word "No" and the phrase "Don't touch that" can be said over 2,349 times over the course of a two night stay.
  

• K-man does not eat well in unfamiliar territory.
  

• He does not sleep well without his crib despite the three layers of padding I filled his pack'n play with. It had more cushion that the planks of mattresses we slept on.
  

• Flushing a toilet is great amusement, no matter the location (or who's sitting on it).
  

• Neighing at the horses is all fun and games until one neighs back. Then it's time to scoot on over to visit with the chickens.
  

• Donkey are only fun to look at until they bray real loud and run you off to go see the rabbits.
  

• Puddle stomping is incredibly satisfying.
  

• It's nice to have a short drive to get back home in time for lunch and a nap.

Dinner Tales

I fenagled a recipe together last night for salisbury steak keeping it completely allergen free for K-man. The side dish was broccoli. My husband and I both thought it turned out really well, and I had to keep Hubster's hands out of the pot after his third trip to the stove.

I dipped one of K's little spoons in the gravy and held it out to him while he meandered around the kitchen and said, "here...want your spoon?" He reached for it, stopped, suspiciously eyed the gravy, said "No!", and took off running in the other direction. This from the child who will guzzle motrin out of the little measuring cup that comes on top of the bottle. Then I skewered a little piece of meat on one of his toddler forks, put it down at toddler level, and said, "How about a fork?". "NO!" and off he went to make a running lap around the kitchen island (which, by the way, ended him right back in front of the offending piece of meat on the fork). Third time's a charm, right? I picked out a piece of broccoli and thought that maybe if I just handed him something nonchalantly straight from my hand that it might go over better.

He was busy trying to outsmart the child lock on the cabinet in the kitchen, so I scooted over there, put the broccoli close to him and said, "Here...hold this for mama." This time he spun around, gave a glance at the little green tree, and took off running and squealing. Broccoli makes my child squeal, apparently. So, as the mature adult in this situation what did I do? I chased after him with the piece of broccoli out in front of me while he ran from me alternating between squealing and laughing. Who says you can't play with food?

PS - He never ate the broccoli.

I'm learning...

On Saturday, I took K-man out and about and am working on teaching him about walking in stores and minding his manners. You know, like how we don’t pull on the big package with the King size comforter in it at Bed Bath and Beyond because it will topple down on top of our head – and how we don’t run from mama with a little quirky grin on our face in the middle of trying on little boy shoes – and how once mama has had enough, she will pick a little boy up like a sack of feed under her right arm and tote said little boy right out of the store with her sunglasses half fallen back on to her nose, her hair dangling in her face (why didn’t I wear a ponytail?), and the ever present diaper backpack riding down her left arm pulling her into a skewed stance – all the while four other mothers (sans children) are watching with a bemused smirk on their faces because they’ve been there and done that.

The Land of No's

Kelton will be 21 months old next week, and I truly believe we have entered the 2's before they are due. He has been cutting 2-year molars, throwing tantrums, rebelling against food that I know he likes, and his favorite word is now "No". Just last night, our "discussion" (because, really, can you call a talk with a toddler a discussion?) went something like this...

K: Uhhhhhh!!! jooooooosssss!!

Me: You want juice?

K: NO! Uhhhhhh!!! JOOOOOSSSS!!

Me: You want juice? (shaking the juice bottle)

K: Nooooo!!! DOOOOSSSHHH!

Me: Don't say that at daycare! You want milk?

K: Mikkkkk! NO! Deuce!! (pointing to the backdoor)

Me: You want to go outside?

K: Esssss!!!! Meeeemeee! (his version of please)

Me: Okay, let's get your shoes on!

K: Nooooo!!!

Me: You have to put your shoes on to go outside.

K: Nooooooo....(running away from me)

Me: Do you want to go outside?

K: No! Dooooooosh!!! (pulling my hand and taking me to his bedroom for toys)

Me: Don't say that at daycare!

*sigh*...why is everything "no"? And why are we struggling to get in the carseat every single flipping time? He's been doing great for a few months and now it sounds like a cat screaching in the vehicle every time we have to get him in his carseat. And he wants to push those dammmm overhead light buttons. I knew I was reaching a mommy time-out when I contemplated taking a hammer to those overhead lights in the vehicle...

Mommies....any advise??

My List - Version 6.30.09

I have the eternal list of things to do. We all have it. Every now and then I declare myself an independent state and shuck the list insisting that I know what I need to do and will get it done on my own time frame. And it is usually the next day when I spy something disgusting on the bathroom floor, and I realize that I cannot function without my list.

"Number 29: 'Sweep and mop bathroom floor.' There! I feel better. It's on my list - I'll do it....tomorrow."

And so the sad story continues. On top of just the general day to day tasks that I number, write down, ignore, and then do in a hurried frenzy at 10:03 PM on a weeknight when I should be sleeping, I also have my pet projects. You know, those little projects that you actually want to do. Here are a few of mine...

1. Take all of the framed paintings from the backroom that have dust on them from July of last year and hang them in the hallway.

2. Actually print the photos I sent to walmart.com four months ago so that I can make a family picture collage to hang in our bedroom.

3. Hang things on our bedroom walls so that it doesn't feel so blah in there.

4. Attach the wall decals that I have had laying out for 9 weeks so that they could "flatten"...that happened 8 weeks ago.

5. Paint the kitchen island that I had built 2 months ago that has been setting in the garage for three weeks now. It would be nice to actually have it in the kitchen.

6. I started a table skirt last weekend to cover up storage space underneath our mail and sorting table near the backdoor. I got as far as attaching sticky sided velcro and cutting my fabric to length. Hemming...eh, that's left to be done - perhaps I should do that and actually iron my new table skirt.

7. Vaccuum the one room that has carpet in it. That cheerio has been in there for way too long.

8. Mulch around the vegetables in the garden. We spent so much time getting it to this point that I refuse to surrender to those damn little weeds that you never can seem to tell where they start and where they end.

What's on your list?

My List - Version 6.29.09

I have the eternal list of things to do. We all have it. Every now and then I declare myself an independent state and shuck the list insisting that I know what I need to do and will get it done on my own time frame. And it is usually the next day when I spy something disgusting on the bathroom floor, and I realize that I cannot function without my list.

"Number 29: 'Sweep and mop bathroom floor.' There! I feel better. It's on my list - I'll do it....tomorrow."

And so the sad story continues. On top of just the general day to day tasks that I number, write down, ignore, and then do in a hurried frenzy at 10:03 PM on a weeknight when I should be sleeping, I also have my pet projects. You know, those little projects that you actually want to do. Here are a few of mine...

1. Take all of the framed paintings from the backroom that have dust on them from July of last year and hang them in the hallway.
2. Actually print the photos I sent to walmart.com four months ago so that I can make a family picture collage to hang in our bedroom.
3. Hang things on our bedroom walls so that it doesn't feel so blah in there.
4. Attach the wall decals that I have had laying out for 9 weeks so that they could "flatten"...that happened 8 weeks ago.
5. Paint the kitchen island that I had built 2 months ago that has been setting in the garage for three weeks now. It would be nice to actually have it in the kitchen.
6. I started a table skirt last weekend to cover up storage space underneath our mail and sorting table near the backdoor. I got as far as attaching sticky sided velcro and cutting my fabric to length. Hemming...eh, that's left to be done - perhaps I should do that and actually iron my new table skirt.
7. Vaccuum the one room that has carpet in it. That cheerio has been in there for way too long.
8. Mulch around the vegetables in the garden. We spent so much time getting it to this point that I refuse to surrender to those damn little weeds that you never can seem to tell where they start and where they end.

What's on your list?

Time outs, Gray Hair, and Yoga

The blog is suffering because I'm working a 9/80 schedule for the summer. Staying at work for 10 hours a day is slowly sucking whatever creativity I have into a blackhole of sleep deprived nothingness. I used to love this schedule...before I had a commute, and a baby, and the burning desire to lose 20 pounds - which is highly dependent on me getting enough sleep. Why can't we have naptime at work?

K-man is quite the character these days. He is down to biting only occasionally and it's usually associated with him being so excited that he has to chomp down on a shoulder...or your back...or your butt - whichever is closest. To express his frustration, he clenches his fists and screams. Then he gets put in timeout where he cries. Once he's out of timeout, you get a sweet little hug, possibly a bite, and then he's off to test his boundaries again. Lather, rinse, repeat. I think the child will hate that little round rug in the living room by this time next year. We're also dealing with the hitting issue. If he's mad at you, he will try to sock you in the face. There are very few things that really push my piss-me-off button. Hitting my head on the shelf right over the dryer after having to crawl halfway in the damn thing just to retrieve the last sock - that's a good one. Having my child hit me in the face with his fist because I have told him no, that's another one. I take a deep breath, catch his little hand, tell him NO Hitting!, and set him in timeout. Then I have to count to 47 or some odd number like that to chill out. And we are coming up on 19 months, people! What's the 2-3 year time frame going to be like?

I am already going gray. Part of it is genetic. That lovely skunk stripe that I'll have when I'm about 38 will be ever so lovely as I religiously cover it every six weeks with Clairol Nice 'N Easy. They have to make the name sound soothing because if you're 38 and have a skunk stripe, you're probably not in the best mood while you are trying to cover it up. My mom was in town over Memorial Day weekend and asked me when I was going to let my hair go natural again. i.e., she didn't like my hair. I told her that I was thinking about getting highlights. She replied that I should just let the gray grow out like she does because everyone always thinks her hair is a frosted blond. I smiled. When you are my mom's age, you can pull that off. Me, I'm not quite 30 and I have absolutely no interest in letting any freaking gray "frost" my hair. Am I holding on to my youth? You betcha...like a dog on that old rawhide chew toy he dug up from 4 months ago...it's mine!!!

One more highlight. Yoga. One day of it last week...two days of it this week (so far)...can I share a resounding, "OW!"? It's not the same day that gets you, it is the next day and the day after. Since when did they put muscles on our rib cages? And is it just me, or does Denise Austin just have the most annoying way of "motivating" you by pointing out all your flabby parts and comparing them to her firm parts?

Tantrums, Photos, and Thunder

K-man is an over achiever. He's decided to enter the "Two's" at 18-months of age. I'm so proud! *sniffle* My baby is growing up! He's graduated to throwing himself on the ground and kicking his legs while screaming instead of just standing and screaming. Isn't that wonderful? Can you feel the glee just oozing off of me? Oh wait...that's K's snot from earlier this morning. I hate it when he uses my good shirts as his personal kleenex! Moving on...

Mr. Cranky Pants needed to get out of the house Sunday morning. Hubby was pulling a weekend shift, so I loaded up the yelling toddler and we took a trip to Babies R Us. We went for sunscreen because that's the only place I can find Mustela sunscreen. If you've never used it, you're missing out on one of the best sunscreens on the market. K's class goes outside twice a day and he's the only kid in the class without a tan. As is standard when it comes to the baby megamart, we left with more than sunscreen. In one of my more dense moments of motherhood, I pulled one of the popcorn poppers (those little domes on two wheels that you push around and they pop the little balls inside) off the shelf and showed K-man how it works. It was all over from there. The dammm thing rode in the carseat home with him because there was NO way he was riding home in peace knowing that his rolly thingy was in the back behind him.

Before we were able to leave the store, though, the in-house photographer suckered me in to a photo session with the promise of a free 5"x7" portrait. Me: "Free? Suuuuuure!!" Ummm...45 minutes later, I left with a whole package that I paid for AND my free 5"x7". Here's a sampling of how the little guy did...

Up until the past few weeks, K has also been a very sound sleeper. At times, sleeping his best through thunderstorms. That's no longer the case. I knew when I heard the first rumble of thunder at 4:00 AM that it would be an early morning for all of us. Sure enough, it got loud enough at 5:00 for the little guy to hear, and it was all over after that. We were awake. I used to love thunderstorms. Now, not so much. Or maybe that's an understatement. When the thunder woke the baby up before my alarm clock went off, I wanted to find the person responsible for this intrusive storm and punch them in the nose. The closest I can come to that is the local weatherman, but I'm pretty sure he'd just blame the computers.

3 Things

This came in an e-mail but I thought it might make a good post...I'm lazy. This is a free-blogging world, people! Copy, Paste, Edit, and Post!!

3’s ABOUT ME

Three Names I go by:
1 Deanna
2. Mamamamama
3. Hot sexy sweet lickin’ sugar cake – Just kidding! – “Dee”

Three jobs I have had in my life:
1. Farm worker aka ‘professional hay stacker’ aka “dammit kid! Do what I say!”
2. Chemistry Lab Assistant – don’t mix zee bottles with zee X on dem!!
3. Engineer

Three places I have lived:
1. North Texas
2. West Texas
3. South Texas

Three things I like to watch:
1. wildlife in the wild cause like that’s where they do that wild thing!
2. My husband and my little boy interacting – especially cute when the child isn’t biting and the husband isn’t turning red
3. children singing at church – they always scratch themselves in the darndest places in front of everybody.

Three places I have been:
1. New Mexico
2. Washington DC
3. Colorado

Three people that e-mail me regularly:
1. A friend from work
2 My mom
3. That spam dude that’s always telling me I have 12.8 billion dollars waiting in an offshore account – freak-o

Three of my favorite foods:
1. chocolate chip cookies – I don’t share very well
2. green chile chicken enchiladas – I bloat from these
3. chicken fried steak – All that grease is good for lubricating the intestinal tract

Three things I am looking forward to:
1. My vegetable garden actually growing something besides worms – of course, if times get tough we could eat them too.
2. Upholstering our headboard – and no that’s not code for something dirty
3. Losing some more weight – this crap isn’t supposed to be like a souvenir that sits around and gathers dust

Diarrhea, Hormones, and Chicken

Last week was so fun! Can you see the half smile on my face and the weary expression in my eyes? No? That's because the 28.7 ounces of coffee I've consumed so far haven't kicked in. Get more sleep, you say? Well, I tried, okay!? I was all nice and ready for bed at 9:15 CST last night and then WHAM!, I had to grab a magazine (Good Housekeeping for those of you that are interested) and run to the bathroom. Being constipated for three days is no fun. Having a bad subway sandwich remedy the issue within 2 hours and 3 bathroom visits is no fun either. Nuff said.

So last week we didn't get K-man's MRI done. He started running a fever at 6:00 the night before and it lasted for a full three days. On Saturday, the fever broke and the rash started. I sat down and cried. My husband consoled me while telling the baby to let go and quit biting. We're rescheduled for the imaging for tomorrow and I think we're more ready this week than we were last week. We're worn down - just tell us what to do...we can't stress any more because our adrenal glands have finally shriveled into hopeless little raisins. You're thinking you can revive them by jumping out of a bush and scaring the bejeebers out of me, aren't you? Well, I won't jump but I may just knock the ever living crap out of you for getting in my way on the sidewalk. Did I mention I'm hormonal this week? Life is fun. Where's the chocolate cake?

Over at Coalcreekfarm.com they're slaughtering chickens. Actually, they slaughtered them a few days ago, but she's posting about it now. I'm highly interested. I think chicken is one of those things that you probably don't want to know about because you'll never look at it the same...like sweetbreads from a cow or calf fries from a calf. You ever made sweetbread before? Do you know what it looks like before you batter and fry it? It's disgusting. Whatever compelled anyone to eat that crap in the first place? Of course, I grew up in an area where they also slow cooked the head of a cow and then ate the brain with scrambled eggs. Nice way to stick with one theme, people...brains, eggs, scrambled...oh yum! Where's the wheaties?

Think I'll go back to drinking my lukewarm coffee...only by now it's cold and disgusting but I'm still drinking it.

8 Things

Sandy from Cheaper Than Therapy tapped me to do the "8 Things" list. Here goes!

8 Things I'm looking forward to:
1. Upholstering our headboard
2. Moving Kelton’s room to the back room and decorating it
3. Finally hanging photos and artwork in our bedroom
4. Planting my garden (grow baby grow!)
5. A vacation this summer (or rather a staycation)
6. My next pedicure
7. Losing some more weight
8. The next Twilight movie (yes, I’m pathetic)

8 Things I did yesterday:
1. Attended a company conference
2. Ate out at an Italian restaurant – it’s hard to beat spaghetti and meatballs
3. Polished off two chocolate chip cookies from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory
4. Took a 3 hour nap
5. Fed the baby chicken nuggets and french fries – while wondering why we didn’t buy 3 chocolate chip cookies earlier in the day
6. Checked my pedometer, thought a bad word, and went for a 30 minute walk
7. Put my hair in pigtails
8. Tried to pick a dried booger off K-man’s face while he slept (unsuccessfully)

8 Things I wish I could do:
1. Landscape our backyard
2. Install a salt-water pool
3. Have the courage to paint some of our walls a different color
4. Remodel the front bath with a claw foot soaking tub and bidet (while living somewhere else until all the work is finished)
5. Bring K-man’s scrapbook up to date
6. Lose all of the weight I want
7. Be creative when it comes to weekend activities with my munchkin
8. Bake biscuits as good as Hubby’s mama

8 Shows I watch:
1. NCIS - regularly
2. Lost - regularly
3. Platinum Weddings (while going “Oh my goooosh!”) – when I can’t sleep
4. The Girls Next Door (while going “Oh my gooooosh!”) – when I can’t sleep
5. Jack’s Big Music Show – unwillingly
6. The Backyardigans – unwillingly
7. Curious George – unwillingly
8. Sanctuary – when SciFi was showing it I was hooked on that show!

8 Songs on my music player:
1. The Watermelon Crawl – Tracy Byrd
2. Walking After Midnight – Patsy Cline
3. What a Crying Shame – The Mavericks
4. Some girls do – Sawyer Brown
5. 18 Wheels and a dozen roses – Kathy Mattea
6. Gone Country – Alan Jackson
7. Meet in the Middle – Diamond Rio
8. Would You Go With Me – Josh Turner (how does he sing like that?)

8 Favorite warm weather activities:
1. Air Conditioning (warm weather in Texas = hot as hell)
2. Swimming
3. Floating the river
4. Gardening – except if it’s 110 degrees with 97% humidity, oh wait, that’s August!
5. Summer festivals and arts & crafts shows
6. Making lemonade
7. Making margaritas (okay, so it’s lemonade with good stuff in it...it counts!)
8. Fishing

8 Favorite Happy Things:
1. The way Kelton grins at us first thing in the morning when he’s had a really good night’s sleep
2. Watching the birds in the backyard clean up the birdseed
3. Watching the squirrels irritate the birds
4. The way Sunday afternoon feels after church on Sunday morning
5. Hearing the congregation singing slightly out of tune at the little church I grew up in
6. Spring time when all the little animals are born and running around
7. A kiss from my baby
8. Curling up next to my husband with my head on his chest

8 People I tag:
1. Sandra
2. Debbie
3. Joanna
4. Kaycee
5. Moose
6. Jaci
7. Val
8. John Deere Mom

The Waiting Game Starts

Back in October I posted THIS about K-man's gastroenterologist sending us on an emotional rollercoaster over the size of his head. At the time, although his head measured large (as it always had) the rate of growth was normal. In the past three months, that rate of growth has taken a few jumps. Enough of a change to cause some concern with our pediatrician and we have an MRI scheduled for next Wednesday.

While worrying about the MRI results is enough to cause me to go into a vegetative state over the next ten days, what is really bothering me is the impending IV that they will have to do in order to sedate him. Do you get that? They're going to put my baby to sleep. That scares the hell out of me. It's not complete sedation where they have to take over his breathing, but it is still sedation. My baby won't have complete control over his body. The imaging will take a minimum of 45 minutes to an hour to get the pictures they need. Those drugs will be going into my child for at least that length of time. From what little we've been told so far, he can't have any food or drink for 6 hours beforehand and we don't know if we'll be the first ones in the morning or not. That's not their problem, though, is it?

Our last, and only, encounter with an IV and K-man was last year on one of our emergency room visits. The baby had been throwing up constantly and was dehydrated. They were doing an IV to get a blood sample, get fluids in him, and to get some antibiotics in him. I wrote about it HERE. I don't want to go through that again...I don't want him to go through that again. I hate this. I hate being the bystander. Why can't I just take the IV for him? Or just do his test for him? I already want to go in there and get in the face of every nurse and doctor and tell them that they better be on their A-game or else....or else I'll crumble into an absolute sobbing heap beause there's not a damn thing I can do to help my baby except just be there.

And no matter how much I want to wallow in worry and self pitty and pitty for my child, I just can't. I have no right because I know there are other families out there who are traveling much harder roads than we are right now. We are incredibly blessed and thankful for such. And we know and believe that no matter what path we are on or about to be on, that God is in control. So we reside in that and pray and watch and wait.

The debate

In the second grade I was positive I wanted to be in ballet class. Never mind that I had just come out of three quarter's of a soccer season with four black eyes and multiple bruises. I never got the gist of getting out of the way out of the soccer ball as it carreened towards my head - the result was never pretty. My mom got tired of me running around looking like some little forlorn beaten child and asked if I wanted to quit soccer. I readily agreed and we decided that a good alternative would be ballet. I thought the shoes were cool. Which, looking back, I was right; ballet shoes are way cooler than white canvas Keds.

So, ballet it was and we got me outfited with little pink shoes, pink tights, and a black leotard with the little foofy shoulder things. I went in to a dance class with about 8 other little girls in the same garb. Some taller, some shorter, some skinnier, some not. You could definitely tell which ones had been in ballet class before. Even at the ripe old age of 7, little girls can be real snots when it comes to being better at something. Never the less, I adjusted and started learning all of the different positions and stretches and leaps and bounds. We eventually got good enough to practice a routine for a dance recital. About three-quarters of the way through the season, I decided I wanted to quit - I was tired of dancing. Mom stood her ground and made me see the season through. At the end of the final recital, I received the award for most improved dancer. I accepted my plaque, took my little bow in my hot pink too-too, skipped off stage, and never put another set of ballet shoes on again. Case closed. I now wanted to be a cowgirl astronaut.

Now, here I am 20 something years later (oooo...that hurts to think about) and have a little boy who I am positive would benefit from the grace, strength, and poise that ballet teaches. I'm thinking one little ballet season. Hubby is thinking one little ballet NEVER. I'm thinking if Herschel Walker can take ballet and play football, then it can't be all bad. Hubby says the little guy can take karate for poise and balance (but he doesn't use the word 'poise'), can skip football, and go straight to baseball. I'm trying to be open minded and go for a comprimise...I'm thinking tap dancing now.

I'm a sucker

I was up late last weekend and happened across Jack Lalane's infomercial for his juicer. I mean, how can you NOT want to buy the juicer when you see this guy that's like 117 years old and still moves around better than some 60 year olds I know. Really and truly I should have been asleep by the time that infomercial came on, but I had duped myself into believing that the baby might sleep in. He hasn't slept in a day in his 16.75 month life, but I really thought he might do it last weekend. Call it mother's intuition or just plain stoopid...either way I was really tired the next day.

Anyway, so try as I may I just can't get this idea of getting a juicer out of my head. I mean, how healthy would that be to cram a few veggies and fruits down its juicer throat every morning and consume a nice fresh glass of turnip-rutabega-strawberry-celery juice? Not to mention the health benefits of getting out your daily frustrations first thing by sending pieces of fruit to their oblivion! I even figured out that I can wash the veggies the night before and keep them in their own "soon to be juiced" bowl. Jack Lalane makes it even more appealing because you don't have to peel anything (except citrus fruits, but really, who wants to drink pithe??). See? Jack is the MAN when it comes to this whole juicing thing! He wouldn't lead me wrong, would he? Let's not talk about the fact that I barely have time to grab my lunch in the mornings...I'm sure I can figure something out to make sure we get fresh juice every morning. [Translation: Hubby can do it. I love you!!!]

Bed Bath and Beyond carries Jack Lalane's juicers, and I happen to have a few 15% or 20% off coupons stuck down in the glove compartment in the vehicle. The other thing I've been thinking about is getting an epilator so I don't have to shave my legs anymore. (same store carries those, too!) My husband is already disturbed by my intense fascination with tweezers. I have to control myself when it comes to my eyebrows or else I won't have any left. Then I turn my attention to his eyebrows. He sees "the look" and starts screaming and running. I got to pluck his eyebrows ONCE and he swore up and down that it was some form of wicked torment. Geez, I only pulled three hairs. Try as I may to convince him that over time it hurts less, he still keeps a distance between us if I have tweezers in my hand. So, when I found out that epilators are like a thousand tweezers pulling your leg hairs out, I'm so wanting one now! It's like waxing...only not. I'm assuming there are plenty of women out there who use these since the companies are coming out with new models. They must have a market to sell to, so I can't be the only sick-o out there that wants to tweeze her legs smooth.

So, there you have it...my two current fascinations...juicing and tweezing. Maybe this diet is getting to me afterall.

Germs

Oh wow...I've gone almost a month without posting anything. My blogger creativity went ker-plunk, so I took a break. Can't guarantee that I'm off that break, but I actually have a few random thoughts running about that I decided I needed to let loose via a keyboard and the world wide web. Because, of course, sooooo many people are interested in the crap I've got floating around in my brain! Right? (I'm rolling my eyes....honest!)

So I read an article in a magazine last week while hiding in the bathroom from a rambunctious 16 month old. (you've done it, too! Admit it!) The article was about the top ten germiest places you need to protect yourself from. As I was reading it, I was trying to remember if I washed my hands after wiping K-man's booger off my shirt - which he deems as a darn good kleenex. Anyhoo, it listed all those standard places - kitchen countertops, bathrooms, door handles, grocery cart surfaces (whatever), and the most surprising - the ketchup bottle that's setting on the table at your favorite restuarant. As the article so kindly and disgustingly pointed out, there are a lot of people who went to the restroom, didn't wash their hands, and then handled that ketchup bottle before you sat down there. Ewwwwww. The article suggested you slather your hands and the bottle with sanitizing gel because a napkin is a porous surface that the germs can get through. So, two thoughts here...

1. If I douse my hands in alcohol gel and then eat my french fries with my now sterile ketchup, my french fries are gonna taste funky from the gel. Who wants that?
2. All those times I used to put toilet paper on the public restroom toilet seat before sitting down, I was apparently just fooling myself into a lull of germ safety. If those germs can go through a napkin, they sure as heck can go through toilet paper. Furthermore, if they can go through toilet paper, then they can probably go through those toilet seat covers some restrooms supply. There's no winning!!!! So just sit down and take it like a big girl - you're gonna have a germy butt. Wasn't it that way to begin with, though?

And after that last thought, all of a sudden I wasn't so concerned about getting santizing gel on my french fries.

The kicker here is that I don't use "sanitizing" stuff at our house. Not the labeled kind, at least. I don't want ya'll thinking I'm all gross and stuff (just pay no mind to the kitchen floor - there's no winning with a baby in the house) We "green clean" around the house - baking soda, borax, and vinegar. They kill the germs and mold and get things all nice and sparkly- they just aren't labeled for "sanitizing" or "disinfecting". About the only time I'll break out the Lysol and Clorox Wipes (yes, I do keep them handy) is when a daycare bug is spreading amongst our family of three. When I see that coming, I start fumigating and wiping down all surfaces. Since the baby has decided that he loves to give big ole slobbery kisses, I find myself ever more on the watch for the slightest tingle of an impending sore throat or the teeniest gurgle from a stomach about to hurl its contents. If you happen to drive down our street and think you smell "linen fresh" lysol, don't bother ringing the doorbell - we're sick and you don't want it - and you'll have to use the sanitizing hand gel.

It's Monday

I have a cold, my husband was sick all weekend, the baby was up all night coughing, Hubby snored most of the night, Aunt Flow came to see me and brought her friend Cramps, I am entering tons of repetitive data in excel, and to top it all off, I have the Backyardigans theme song stuck in my head.

In the back of my mind I also have a running list of things I want/need to do around the house, including but not limited to:

• plant my heirloom seeds before they all die from living in paper envelopes
• clean up the yard so I can put my soon-t0-be-seedlings in actual ground
• clean out the baby's closet because I reach in, grab, and slam it shut before diapers fall on my head
• figure out why Clorox Green Toilet Bowl cleaner has indeed left our potties with a green hue (I started to blame Hubster, but then realized it was the cleaner and not him)
• return a picture frame to Target that arrived with broken glass
• mail a package to my mom - which will include heirloom seeds
• Put some actual photos in the two frames that arrived with glass intact
• Which will mean actually hanging some things in our bedroom
• go shopping for fabric to cover our headboard and turn it into an unpholstered headboard instead of a metal-crack-the-back-of-your-head-on headboard
• resume that whole "exercising" thing...it was working before I stopped doing it
• cook the chicken that's now been marinating for 24 hours in the fridge
• pull the new external hard-drive out of the box and utilize it to back up our computers and save all of our photos before some lightening bolt erases everything -again

And it's only Monday, folks.

Photos for Friday

I finally got some pictures uploaded from the camera. Then I downloaded them to Blogger. Get it? Ha ha ha! Up-loaded and Down-loaded? Okay, so I'm really tired and stressed with my mom coming in to town and even weird little opposites seem extremely funny today. I'll be getting out the Cuervo and the limes, and we'll be having margaritas tonight!

Kelton's Valentine's gift from my mom - it was a monkey that whistles. He's still not too sure if he trusts it or not...he kind of walks sideways away from it like he's afraid to turn his back on it.

Playing the grass. I cringe at this picture. They let dogs pee in their yard. We broke out the hand sanitizer afterwards (before he could get a hand in his mouth).

He loves the water!!

Giving me one of those grins that melt my heart.

Back from la-la land

I've been void of blog fodder lately. Yeah, the baby's been doing some cute things, but when I don't have pictures to go with it, well...ya know...there are only just so many baby stories to tell before you know that people will start dropping like flies.

On the home front, we're working on a better balance for ourselves. Our weekends are not refreshing...or recharging...or re-energizing. They are a leech on what little energy and sense of self we have left after 5 days of a strict work week routine. And it has to change. We'll be tag teaming more on the weekend so that each of us gets some alone time. We will be getting out Saturday evening or Sunday morning and going to church. It's good for our souls...it's good to have contact with other adults...it's good for K'man to have other little kids to play with for 45 minutes.

As for our little guy, he's 15.5 months old. He's learning new words and expanding his sense of the world every day. He has so many teeth and will bite you with them if you stick your finger up to his mouth trying to take a peek at his chompers. Hubby and I are still unsure as how much discipline this little guy needs. He understands "no". That is MORE than clear. At times, you can tell him "no" and he'll stop what he's doing. Or, conversely, you can offer him a drink of water and if he doesn't want it, he'll tell you "no". What's frustrating is the things that he does where he doesn't respond to "no". Our biggest sticking point right now is the tv. He loves to go and touch the buttons on it. You can tell him no and he will stand there deliberating about whether or not to touch it. So, when he does and you, consequently, tell him no and then go to physically remove him from proximity of the tv - he grins and takes off. Then we scoop him up and go over to the time-out mat, where he proceeds to throw a real fit and scream and cry while we sit there and hold him (just making sure he doesn't get up off the mat) for a count of one minute. When the time is up, we calmly walk away, he grins, hops up, and dashes right back to the tv. And we will do this over and over and over. I've even done time-out in the pack and play and it's like he still thinks he "wins" once he's removed and allowed back in the play area. So, what gives? Any ideas?

I also finally figured out what I want to do with our bedroom, so I should have posts in the next few weeks showcasing before and after.

Blah

I have posted lately because my creativity must have blown into a kleenex along with all that other stuff coming out my nose lately. Lovely, huh? Here's what been going on...

• I haven't exercised in a week - I hate that...I want to, but when I get home I'm exhausted and overwhelmed.
• My house is dirty. There are spots on the kitchen floor that disturb me. The dust bunnies are running rampant again.
• Work isn't challenging. I hate that.
• The camera has over 200 pictures on it. I need to download them.
• I need to recharge the camera battery.
• Why can't we go more than two days withouth doing laundry? How did one little person turn laundry into a monster?
• K'man has been squealing with his nose wrinkled as his way of asking for more at meal times. We've been working with him on asking for "more". Last night he belted out "MO!"...so we gave him "mo" chicken and lots of praise.
• I'm re-reading the Twilight saga. I'm a sucker.
• Perhaps I could clean instead of read. Nah
• The daycare is doing a fundraiser by selling pizzas and cookie dough. Hubby wants a batch of cookie dough - they come in 3 lb boxes...48 cookies to a box. There goes my diet.

Who I am

I like reading people's profiles when I go to new blogs. You get a little insight on the author. What they like...what they do...married...kids...single...pets...jobs...hobbies....I could go on and on. Sometimes they're short little sentences. "My name is Bob." Other times, they're short essays. Here's mine as it's written now...

"I'm a happily married wife and new mother. I am also an engineer by degree and profession, so therein lies my quirk...I'm always wanting to "engineer" something. Whether it be the plumbing in the house or the family that lives there. Ask my husband how many times I've come up with a "plan" to keep us organized and on track. Then ask him how long we actually stick to it. My dear sweet other-half will probably protect me, but let me roll my eyes at myself instead. But that won't stop me from coming up with another plan sometime soon!"

I've been kind of looking at that lately and I'm not really satisfied with it. Yes, I'm happily married. I'm a wife. I'm a mother. I'm an engineer. But I'm also much more than that. The paths that have brought me to "wife, mother, engineer" have created a person with more to say about herself than three things. How often do we throw ourselves into these pre-designed categories? I'm not unhappy with them in the least. I just feel like they don't show the whole me. So, I've been thinking about what I'd write if I were to re-summarize myself in my profile. Here are a few thoughts I've been kicking around that I hope will be little more telling of this blog's author...

• Daughter of a single mother who put herself through school (undergrad and grad) while working
• High School Valedictorian
• Grew up around my grandparents' farm
• Master assembler of all things that "require assembly"
• Love to roam around in the outdoors with nothing but a pocket knife and a dog
• Self-taught plumber
• Loves chemistry
• Poor electrician
• Quick reader that loves all things from Twilight to Russian literature
• Summa cum laude graduate
• First car was a truck...second car was a bigger truck
• Speed cleaner
• Poor organizer
• Fast typist
• Cries like a baby at movies and primetime drama
• Loves to shoot sporting clays
• Fisher-woman and hunter-woman (no laughing!)
• Cooks by taste and eye-measure - who needs a measuring cup?
• Okay, I need the measuring cup when I try my hand at gourmet recipes
• Goat raiser, herder, breeder, shade-tree-veterinarian
• Master hay stacker
• Farm girl
• Can take down and put up fence (horse fence and barbed wire) by myself
• Engineer in the big city
• Always yearning to go back home to the farm
• Mama to one fiesty little boy
• Wife to a wonderful husband

I'll be re-writing my profile. So what about you? Do you have a tendency to put yourself in pre-designed one-size-fits-all categories? Or do you have your own list of who you are?

Magazines and my house

I just read Ree's latest post on Pioneer Woman and her photo shoot with Southern Living. I have to agree that Southern Living is THE magazine for the south...vacations, houses, gardens, food...FOOD. I can't remember not having a Southern Living magazine hanging around the house (or my grandparents' house). Even at a young age, I'd pour over the recipes and make subtle suggestions as to what sounded appealing. "MOM!! Can you make THIS???" I think she got the hint.

However, I happen to have a love/hate relationship with Southern Living and Better Homes & Gardens. Why? Because I feel inept when I read them and look at all the pretty pictures. My house doesn't look like those. My yard most certainly doesn't look like those. And while I am more than capable of preparing their recipes, I just don't have the time or energy at this point in my life. So, I browse through them, absorbing one page at a time (except for the ads for the newest prescription and all of its side effects). I get lost in the cozy bedroom with the warm headboard and sheets that look like I could bury myself in for hours. The kitchens hold my undivided attention as I long for an island with character. Okay, so I long for an island in my kitchen, period. All of the lush backyards and gardens so carefully planned out make me excited and want to go dig a hole and plant something...right now! I can't get through an issue without wanting to start a little herb garden for my kitchen windowsill (that's dirty and desperately needs a valance over the top of the window). I get through all of this, close the magazine, take a deep breath, and then take in my surroundings.

My bedroom is not cozy...it's rather haphazard and has a pack'n play set up in it. My headboard is not warm. It's metal and it hurts when I whack my head on it from trying to sit up in bed and watch tv. And you can see that bare corner that I've got the bed angled in through the metal bars...and it hurts my eyes and (limited) sense of style. Our floor needs a rug to add character to the room - but I don't want to get one because then I'll have to vaccuum it. And the walls are so bare that I no longer notice them except after I get finished reading one of those magazines. Then I wish I had someone to come in and revamp the room. The baby's room is no better. I feel like a delinquent parent because it's not really a fun baby room. However, all he does is sleep in there because he plays in the living room. Which leads me to the living room....sigh. it needs work. My pathetic attempt at a swag over the window is just plain sad. And the baby pulls on it. I've given up on keeping it "swagged" so it just sags. The few things we have hanging on the wall do more to accentuate the bare spots than make the room feel inviting. We have one of those huge tv's that stands all by itself - too large for an entertainment system but too small for the large wall it's up against.

Yet, somehow after those magazines have opened my eyes to the design shortfalls of my humble abode, it's still my home at the end of the day. It's warm and cozy because that's where my husband and I have made our lives with our child. Eventually, we'll get around to the details, but they are not what matters right now. And with that, I'll stick to the recipe section of those magazines the next time I happen across one - perhaps I'll find a crockpot recipe. I can handle that!!

I don't want to go back to junior high

Honestly, one of my latest nightmares was being stuck back in high school and no one believed me that I had already gone through high school and college. It was hell. It was like Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed only not...cause I'm not Drew B and nobody could pay me enough to go back to high school or junior high.

The company I work for is sponsoring corporate sports challenges. Yeah, people, I'm still trying to forget the fact that I can't put a basketball through that freaking hoop, okay?? My degree isn't in phys ed it's in engineering. I can't spike a freaking volleyball but I can pretty much tell you the molecular structure of what you use to spike your diet coke with. So, no, I'm not going to play corporate basketball or corporate beach volleyball. Besides, I don't want to see all these people with pasty white skin from working in an office 40+ hours a week decide that they're Kerri Walsh and get all speedo. Uh uh...I don't even want that mental image!! Today an e-flyer went out for getting a dodgeball team together. Dodgeball...I hated that game. I'd rather be stuck running laps around the track in off-season in those tacky gray school-issued sweats with the crotch between my knees. Those were the days...me and 10 other girls doing lap after lap right before lunch. About half the other girls were what you might call juvenile delinquents - that was in junior high when they had to be in gym class. They generally didn't opt for Athletics once we got in high school. More than once I had to assert myself on that dusty track by making some smart ass eat dirt. Oooo...those were the days. No wonder I got stress headaches on school mornings. And yeah, I got my exercise in dodgeball...trying not to get a concusion because some amazon girl on the other side of the gym decided to pick on the class nerd. Thanks, coach...I appreciate the boost of self-confidence that gave me....and that bruise.

My sport was tennis...and I still got bruises dammit. I even got socked in the mouth once from a ball that had spin on it and came flying straight up at me. And the mark of my forehead? Yeah, that was my follow through - across my face. I'm glad I had those seriously heavy-duty rayban knock-offs to protect my eyes. I already knew I needed those from the black eyes I got in soccer when I was in the second grade. I would say I need to stay away from team sports, but even golf has proven hazardous. Who could have known you can whack yourself in the back of the head when trying to play it smooth and twirl your golf club into the bag?

What did you say

This was a good Valentine's weekend. Hubby did good...flowers, card, necklace, and a cake. I would have been happy with a card and a Hershey's bar, but he likes to do it up special. He's a sweety that way. He also has an interesting sense of hearing. We finally made it out of the house yesterday afternoon after a 2 hour nap (woot! woot!). With little man buckled in his car seat, we pulled out of the garage and went grocery shopping. Bought some fresh sushi and will be trying it this evening. Will post on that after I figure out if I like it or not. We got the groceries loaded in the vehicle, Bobo buckled in his seat, and then I plopped down in the passenger seat and started crying. Darn blood sugar was waaaaay low and Hubby zoomed us over to a little cafe. Out came two tuna fish sandwiches and sweet potato fries...Hubby to the rescue!

After regaining my composure, we headed over to a friend's house. On the way, we passed by this colossal specimen of a public high school. It's just plain crazy, folks. Teenagers don't need a freaking college campus for high school. They don't need a fancy four story brick building to learn their basic mathematics and English. Maybe if the system spent more on books and tutoring than on the buildings, the students might benefit from it. (side rant) Anyhoo, as we drove by I commented that they had a really nice tennis courts. Hubby furrowed his brow and looked at me with wide eyes. "What did you say?!", he exclaimed. "I said they have nice tennis courts, why?" "OOOH!! I thought you said something about having tuna squirts!" One word...EEEEWWWWWWWWW.

What do I do

I'm on day four of my new exercise routine. Just me, the elliptical, and a set of 8lb hand weights. Why can't it be like day 40 and I've already lost 10 pounds? Two nights ago I was setting up a dvd on the computer so I could watch something to take my focus off my burning quads when I heard, "Sweeeeeteeeee??? What do I dooooooo???" It my hubby calling me from the front bathroom, behind a closed door, down the hall, through the closed door to the room of misery, with the ceiling fan on, and the dvd playing. I knew if I could hear him, he really must need some guidance. Darn it all...I was going to have to give my shaky legs a break.

So I waddled down the hallway (hamstrings are sore) and peeked into the bathroom. "What's up?" I said as I wondered if my heartrate was above that of a superhero. He looked up from holding the baby's arms up and said, "What do we do when this happens?" and he motioned towards the bathwater that the baby was still sitting in. I craned my neck and glanced down into the tub to see little pieces of poo in there...not floating. His must be sinkers.

I said, "Well, I read about this happening to other people on those blogs I keep up with." That went over real well with him...my motherly insight came from my blogging....he was thoroughly impressed and still preoccupied with the poo lingering in the bathwater - with the baby. I got him to take the baby out and I occupied the little guy while hubster cleaned out the tub and offending poo. After some fresh water and more soap, baby got clean, I got my exercise, and hubby - well, let's just say I got to bathe the baby the next night.

My little future engineer

Takes after his mama...

I put my new cap on him and handed him my work phone and started snapping pictures. All of a sudden, the whole world revolved around that blasted phone. On second thought, maybe he takes after his daddy and his love of gadgets!!

Wordless Wednesday

Hobbies

I grew up in the country - a small little rural farming community. As such, my dream vehicle was big ole four wheel drive pick up truck, which I promptly got myself in debt for after graduating college. I also enjoy hunting and fishing and horseback riding. I love being around animals and just being outside in general. Living in the big city has been a major adjustment and not one that I plan for the long term. However, I've heard that the best way to make God laugh is to tell Him your plans. I'm sure He gets a good chuckle out of me.

I've always wanted to learn how to shoot a bow, and Hubby helped make that happen over Christmas when he bought me one of my own. Here we are New Year's weekend at a friend's place shooting our bows together. I could actually hit the target!!

I blame it on my cold

This cold is getting to me. Last night I gave the baby a bath. He's discovered how much fun it is to wiggle all around the bathtub, and it's a constant battle over keeping him seated when he'd rather be standing. (any suggestions?) The hubster was in and out of the bathroom while I was chasing the little water bug around the tub. When it was finally time to get him out of the tub, Hubby got the big towel and was ready to receive the sudsy child. I told K'man to sit up - to which he'll sit, straighten up, and lift him arms up for me. Then I said, "Good dog....err...baby!". My husband looked at me and snickered and said, "You just called our baby a dog!!" Yeah yeah...I'm blaming that on all this junk residing in my sinuses - that's gotta affect a person's ability to think clearly, right?

Dreams

My husband is usually a pretty uneventful sleeper. He may snore occasionally but a good whack on the chest or the leg and he'll roll over and be quiet. He has talked in his sleep on occassion, one time I heard him use some foul language and was really giving someone the what-for. I snickered and went back to sleep and taunted him about it the next day. Last night, however, was a new one. He was running in bed...legs just a pumping...and I got kicked awake. Before I could scootch over anymore, I got an elbow to the head and yelled, "OW!". That woke him up. He's muffled a "sorry" and then settled back down apparently much more asleep than awake but at least the dreams had been abated. I asked him this morning what was up with the dream (after he apologized a gazillion times for the wonk on the head). He was running from a naked gorilla that had chased him into a tree house. Uh huh. Think we've been watching too many episodes of LOST on the dvr??

I have some new pictures of our little guy that I'm going to try and download from the camera over the weekend. I haven't had my voice for the past two days...at least I'm audible today. Virus shmirus. And why am I gaining weight when I don't even eat that much because I can't breathe when I chew??

And I now delve into Facebook...after talking about how stupid it is for the past few days, I finally reached out and tagged a few folks from back home that I haven't seen in 10 years. And now I'm hooked on checking the stupid thing to see if anyone has written on my wall. Dammm. Like I needed another e-hobby. I don't know how much I'll stay "in" to Facebook...I enjoy my blog more. This is my creative outlet...sometimes...when I'm creatively wired and not worn down from a cold and a child whose new wake-up time is 4:55AM.

31 days

31 days...that's all it took of 2009 before I got sick. I hate this being sick stuff and it's all daycare's fault! I went to see the doctor yesterday and he said that I just have a virus...a glorified frigging cold. He did say that studies have been done and that the average infant in daycare brings home at least 7 different viruses a year that infect the family. I think we hit that milestone after 4 months in daycare. Greeeaaat. He also reassured me that he sees dozens of new moms that get illness after illness that first year and wonder if there's something with them or their immune system. There's nothing wrong - it's just part of the whole adjusting thing.

Anyways, this really puts a crimp in my exercise plans. How frustrating.

Pancakes

Did you know that regular ole Bisquick in the box is MSPI friendly? MSPI is an acronym that I didn't even know existed a year ago. It stands for milk-soy protein intolerance. While we're not concerned about a soy allergy anymore, it sure comes in handy with our daily battle against K-man's milk allergy. Here's my recipe for pancakes that go over well with both baby and hubby and incorporates some healthy fruit and veggie additions.

Milk Free, Egg Free Pancakes

--2 cups original Bisquick
--1 cup soymilk (sometimes I use half soy and half rice milk)
--Extra 1/4 cup soymilk
--2 TBS canola oil
--One of those small single serving portions of no sugar added applesauce
--1/4 c. pureed pumpkin (out of the can) or a small jar of squash baby food
--Dash of cinnamon and nutmeg
--1/2 tsp vanilla

1. Mix all ingredients well. (I just can't bring myself to leave the lumps in there.) If you want a little thinner batter, add a little extra soymilk or rice milk.

2. Spray a non-stick skillet with non-stick spray and heat over medium to med-high heat.

3. Pour batter in 1/2 cup at a time. I usually make big batches so I try to make big pancakes.

4. Flip the pancake when small bubbles start to form on the top. As soon as you remove the done pancake, butter with dairy-free margarine.

--I sometimes drizzle the juice from canned peaches on a pancake for my little guy as an alternative to pancake syrup. Otherwise, he likes his 'cakes plain with butter.


**NOTE: The MSPI reference only applies to original Bisquick in the box. I think the shake and pour has milk and egg ingredients, and I've never looked at any of their other products.

Sneaky Chicken Soup

I recently read through the Deceptively Delicious cookbook (kind of like Sneaky Chef) that a friend of mine loaned to me. I love how you can incorporate veggies in things that I never would have thought of before. While were iced in the house yesterday, I broke out some frozen chicken breasts from the back of the freezer (and then spent the next 15 minutes trying to figure out how to fit everything back in the freezer that fell out). I rummaged around the fridge and the pantry and came up with this...

Sneaky Chicken Soup

--3 frozen chicken breasts
--sea salt
--ground pepper
--2 bay leaves (mine were little)
--parsley
--paprika
--basil
--onion powder
--garlic powder
--celery salt
--1 large potato
--1 can petite diced tomatoes
--1 package of frozen broccoli (steam in bag)
--2/3 cup of brown rice
--extra chicken broth (just in case)

1. Place frozen chicken in stock pot with enough water to cover the chicken a couple of inches. Turn heat on med-high while adding seasonings (sea salt through celery salt). I would give amounts but I kind of eyeball. I went light on the sea salt and light on the celery salt because I figured the two combined would be enough (and you can always add salt later). The other seasonings floated on the water so I made little piles of them figuring 1/4 to 1/2 tsp here and there. Give a good stir and then cover the pot. I simmered slowly for over an hour, turned off the heat, and let the chicken cool.

2. Remove chicken to cutting board and strain broth through a sieve. Cut up chicken (I cut and shredded) and return to clean broth. Turn heat back to medium. Dice up one larg potato and add to pot. I happened to have a large russet stuck in the bottom of the fridge. Empty can of tomatoes and juice into the pot. Add the rice. If soup has started bubbling, turn heat down to low.

3. Cook packet of broccoli in microwave according to directions. I had SteamFresh broccoli cuts that takes 5minutes in the microwave. There is no seasoning on the vegetables. After steaming, remove from packet and puree in blender (or handy dandy magic bullet) with some broth from the soup. Add puree to the soup pot.

4. Taste test soup. I had to add a little garlic salt for my own taste preferences. Cook for another 15 minutes (or 45 if you happen to have regular ole brown rice that takes 45 minutes to cook). Stir occasionally...the rice sticks around the bottom of the pot.

Serve and enjoy and tell no-one that there's a healthy green puree in your soup!

Work Morning versus Weekend Mornings

I just read Sandi's post about her morning routine with her three kiddoes and am taking a lead off of that to post my own version.

On weekday mornings:

• We don't need an alarm clock...the baby wakes up between 5:00 and 5:30 every morning.
• Hubby gets him from his crib in his room and brings him back to bed with us. If it's 5:00, he gets to wallow around on us for 30 minutes. If it's 5:30, he only gets 5 minutes.
• I get up and start getting ready...brush teeth, straighten hair, put on make-up, get dressed...while Hubby brushes his teeth, throws on clothes, slaps a ballcap on his head, and take baby to the kitchen for his breakfast.
• Hubby changes baby's clothes.
• We teamwork on getting the baby's things together and ready for daycare and there's a general standing appointment every morning consisting of "Where's the baby's jacket?" That damn thing always ends up in the darndest places.
• Out the door and off to daycare and work.

On weekend mornings...

• We don't want an alarm clock but we're up between 5:00 and 5:30 because the baby wakes up at that time.
• Bring him back to bed and let him wallow around and roll on the bed for an hour. He spends part of that time chocked up against Hubby while he watches "Blue's Clues".
• Roll out of bed finally because K'man has decided he's ready for his real breakfast and the milk in that bottle he had when he woke up just isn't cutting it anymore.
• Pull my crazy funky hair back and slap a bandana on my head, rinse my face, quick brush with toothpaste, and then waddle into the kitchen.
• 3 hours later think about getting dressed because I really need to put on a bra
• Change the baby's clothes because he's smeared his breakfast all over his pajamas and I'm tired of picking up waffle crumbs all over the house.
• It's 10:00...I really should put on make-up
• It's 11:00...I think I'll just wear a ballcap today
• It's 12:00...I think I'll take a nap while the baby does
• It's 2:00...Oh wait...it's not morning anymore...we better get out of the house for a while

Fried Zucchini

As I've talked about before, Little Man is on a dairy free, egg free, fish free, peanut free diet. Any exposure to dairy results in a severe skin reaction. We have not seen what consuming it will do to him but we have epi-pens and we really don't want to know. Since that is the terms we live on now days, I've had to re-learn some ways of cooking. Milk free is fairly easy when you substitute soy milk. Anything with cheese is pretty much a no-no because even "soy" cheeses have a dairy component. I did find a vegan cheese, but I haven't tried it with him yet as I'm waiting for a day with good weather when both my husband and I are home so that if there is a reaction, we can both act on it and get him whatever help he needs. Really and truly, if the label holds true, there shouldn't be a reaction, but I don't ever try new foods without having the back-up of my hubby around.

K'man has been a really good vegetable eater. He's my "gween bean" dude, but he's lately taken to watching how far a "gween bean" can fly across the kitchen. I think he's ready to try a new veggie. So, yesterday I made him some fried zucchini that went over really well.

Fried Zucchini

--Soy milk
--Olive Oil
--Canola Oil
--Matzo meal
--Corn meal
--Garlic Salt, pepper, basil
--Zucchini

1. In a shallow bowl, mix 1/2 cup of soymilk with 2 Tbs olive oil. In a separate shallow bowl, mix 1/2 cup of matzo meal with 1/2 cup of cornmeal. Season dry ingredients with garlic salt, ground pepper, and dried basil.

2. Pour enough canola oil in the bottom of a skillet to give about 1/4" depth. Heat over medium heat.

3. Slice zucchini. (I had two of them, so one I sliced thinly and the other I made thick slices - I like both ways as did the baby) Soak slices in milk & olive oil and then cover in dry mixture. Transfer to hot oil and fry lightly. Remove and drain on paper towels.

You'd never know these were missing egg and milk.

He knows me well

My husband teases me about lack of patience with the modern technology known as the cellphone. Many times he's been cut short in mid-sentence because I couldn't hear him for more than 3 seconds so I disconnected the call. I hate dropped calls...with a passion. It's more than a pet peeve. So, the instant I think the phone has dropped my call or the connection has become less than stellar, I disconnect. I jam my thumb down on that "end call" key and derive great satisfaction from it. Kind of the ole, do it to them before they do it to you kind of thing...only I'm trying to hang up on the cellphone before it hangs up on me. Seem unreasonable? I don't think so, either.

Hubster will call me almost immediately and start laughing. He says it's no time that the reception wanes until he hears "CLICK!" and I'm off the line. Never mind that maybe we're going through a rough patch of cell reception - 3 seconds of thinking that maybe the phone call is a goner and it's "CLICK!" - end call.

I'm at work (and it's starting to ice over outside). I just tried to call a consultant 3 times on his cell phone. It never rang. It would just beep at me and then silence and then "CLICK!" I'd hang up thinking the stupid cell towers are worthless trash. On the fourth try when it beeped at me and just before my red map color pencile could jam down on the receiver button to end the call, I heard the faintest of sounds...like a jacket rustling. I said, "Hello?!" And lo and behold, the consultant was on the other end of the line...in Mexico. Apparently, phones don't ring in Mexico and he'd been wondering who the heck was calling and hanging up. So I had to laugh because I know that when I re-tell this to Hubster this evening that he will get a good laugh at yet another round of my eagerness to end non-perfect phone calls with the slight sound of "CLICK!".

Just a jumble of thoughts

The evil bug is running rampant in the toddler room at daycare. It's the same bug that had all three of us sick a few months ago and I almost cried at daycare when I dropped K-man off and saw the sign on the door last week. A grown woman standing admist a roomful of less-than-2-year-olds and hardly holding herself together at the thought of another bought of endless vomiting and diahrrea. I'm such a sissy. I'm also half-hypochondriac. I was feeling fine, read the sign, and thought, "oooo...I think I already feel nauseaous." And then I caught myself and called b.s. on my symptoms and they disappeared. Why doesn't that work with the real thing?

So, I spent the weekend watching the little guy for any sign of this illness recurring in our home. Every time he fell asleep, I fumigated the house with lysol. I was even fumigating last night while we were trying to put our Wal-Mart shopping away after the baby had gone to bed. Hubby must have gotten one too many nose-fulls of it because he finally stomped his feet and said, "Stop it!!!!!". I giggled...then lysoled him and ran down the hall.

We think K-man is cutting molars. He's been off his feed (so to speak) the past few days but he seems to feel good. I would stick my finger in his mouth to check, but the last time I did that he clamped down and grinned from around my aching finger. I can't scream when he does that...he thinks it's funny and then bites harder. Punk.

I've been reading everyone's thoughts on Jillian Michael's 30 day shred. Think I need to try that...one of these days. The baby hasn't slept well the past 3 nights and I call a cease-fire on my attempts to get back in shape when there's lost sleep. No sleep + extra exercise (oh, who am I kidding? exercise, period.) = sick me. I've considered using something like Hydroxycut or SlimQuik but my Hubster is certain that I'd go psycho on those things. Just give me a little sugar and I bounce off the walls for 30 minutes like a cat on crack. Sugar makes me hyper happy.

Oh! A side note to a previous post (here). My hair grew back. Just in case anyone had been hanging on by a hair wondering! (ha ha...I made a pun!)

Squaws - then and now

The hallway that you have to walk down at work to get to Subway has old pictures of Native Americans hung on the walls. One of them had this squaw standing near a stream and she wasn't a Disney Sacajawea, either. Her boobs hung past her belly button. It was disturbing. It made me self-consciously adjust my bra in order to perk mine up.

I'm not bragging here folks, just tellin' it like it is...I have DD's. They drive me nuts. They are their own personalities and with PMS, that's too many personalities for this one body. They get in my way. They're saggy. They stretch my bras. And they won't leeeeeeaave. Now, I know what it is to release them from their holding pens and let them hang free at night. No way, no how could I do that all day.

How did that squaw do anything? Wanna skin a buffalo? Better tie those babies up, because you might knick one. Wanna cook dinner over that open flame? You best better roast weiners on a really long stick because you need something that sticks out further than those babies. Wanna nurse your child? How!? You can't see them over your boobs!!! Gotta run from an adversary's war party? Watch out for that speed wobble!

Thank goodness for underwire and spandex...modern squaws' best friends.

I like my money without spit

I normally try to bring my lunch during the work week. It's cheaper. It's healthier. It makes me eat on a more regular schedule, and that makes my husband thank me because he doesn't have to fend off my blood sugar swings. Today, I didn't do it. I didn't have time last night and most certainly didn't have time this morning. (who has time in the mornings?)

For lunch today, I went down to the first floor and got lunch from Subway. Not exactly ideal considering the nutritionist just told me last week to lay off dairy, wheat, and yeast. Hey, lady, I'm human. No dairy...check....I'll get tuna without cheese. No yeast...check...I'll get the wrap. No wheat...forget it...this is suuuuubbbbwaaaaay - they don't do that whole "no wheat" thing.

I've gotten to the point in life where no matter how good something tastes, it just isn't worth the anal repurcussions that could follow. Case in point, I don't ever get lettuce or tomato at Subway. One too many "revenge of Montezuma" episodes have firmly planted in my head to just say no to the fresh veggies that the sandwich maker has been hanging over the past hour. So, I ordered my tuna wrap with olives, pickles, banana peppers, jalepenos, and oil & vinegar (nooooo, I'm not pregnant, I really am this weird) and proceeded to the check-out. The total came to $5 and someodd change, so I paid with a ten dollar bill. And then it happened. She pulled out some ones and started counting them...AFTER SHE LICKED HER FINGERS!!! Excuse me, maybe I'm the only person out there who this disgusts, but I like money minus your grody spit. I didn't say anything to her but went directly to the restroom after leaving the store to wash my hands...twice.

Now, I know that any money that crosses my palm has probably seen more places in the US than I ever will. I recognize that there lies an irrefutable truth that most of the money has been places I don't ever want to know about. But, hey! Ignorance is bliss!!! So, now, on top of all of my other quirks (use my knuckle to press elevator buttons, use my foot or butt to push a door open, use my pinky if I have to pull a door open) I will now be disinfecting my hands after handling money.

All in a day's work

I've been out in the field yesterday and today (headed home tomorrow) waiting on a frac job to take place on one of my wells. Well, it's not MY well...it belongs to the company, but it falls under my watch, so I call it mine. This well also happens to be male. All of my other wells (over the past 6 years) have been female but for some odd reason I've taken to calling this well "him" or "he". Don't ask why, I'm really not sure and I find it slightly disturbing.

Over the course of today, I've managed to...

• Eat a balanced breakfast
• Log on to the internet and check my e-mail 189 times
• Revise cost estimates for submittal to management (tomorrow! can anyone say "procrastinator"?)
• Curse the hotel wi-fi 3892 times because it crashed on my 190th attempt to check my e-mail
• Go shopping at Wal-Mart for lunch and determine that their selection of dairy free, wheat free, yeast free microwave dinners sucks and is non-existent. I also got sidetracked in the baby aisle and bought an insane amount of new bathtub toys for my baby. Might I be missing my child???
• Eat microwaved sweet potatoes, black beans, and plantains for lunch (It was Kashi. It was interesting. I wouldn't recommend it.)
• Drive 60 miles today
• Stand on a location bossing 6 men around in regards to the next step on our newest well while looking up at all of them because I stand at a towering 5'1"
• Survey a new free-water knockout (that thing was AWESOME! It's h-u-g-e!)
• Walk the line on an environmental incident (not associated with my company) and then take video footage of it for our records
• Meet with a state agency rep
• Eat dinner at IHop
• Exchange 289 phone calls between 7:30 and 9:30 pm regarding our completion fluids and whether or not we'll actually do the job tomorrow that I traveled all the way out here for...which we aren't, so I'm headed home tomorrow.

This soooo beats any day at the office.

Jumper cables and little lights

As I pulled into our driveway the other night after bringing K-man home from the doctor's, I noticed a small bright green light on our front porch. My first instinct was "aliens!". Okay, so maybe it wasn't E.T. but my stomach clenched up andmy knuckles grabbed the steering wheel a little firmer. Hubby was on the bluetooth with me chatting away and I had stopped listening. I slowed to a stop in the drive and peered a little harder. What was that? Jumper cables? A little green light? A battery of sorts? Ahhhh....I tuned back into what he was saying and interupted him. "Do you have something charging on the front porch?"

"Why?", he asked. "Is something on fire?"

"Noooooo."

"Oh! Good! Yeah, I'm charging my four-wheeler battery."

"So, if you knew you were charging something on the front porch, then why was your first response to ask me if something was on fire?"

"Ummmmm." pause. "I dunno! No reason!"

"So, if you're first thought was that our front porch was on fire, then there's a possibility that the battery might explode on. our. front. porch.?"

"Weelllllll..." pause. "You sure are pretty!"

Uh huh. The battery got relocated. Now it won't explode on our front porch. It'll only take the garage with it when it goes. I feel so much better now.

A Decorating Dilemma

After getting the baby's crib out of our room, we were suddenly left with a surprising amount of space. I finally took destiny into my own hands (okay, so maybe that's exaggerating) and rearranged our bedroom furniture about two weeks ago. I dared to do something unconventional. I put the bed in the corner angled out to the middle of the room! *quiet gasps are heard around the room* And now I have...*dum dum de dum!* dead space!!! (is that supposed to be one word or two? My blog...we're going with two.)

I love the bed angled into the room...it adds character and the room actually supports it really well. Another bonus, we can see the tv now without craning our necks in ways that would make a chiropractor cringe. I just can't stand the empty space behind the headboard now. We have a metal/wood headboard and footboard. It kind of looks like this...

So, you can see why I have a double disdain for the corner situation. Not only is there empty, unused space, but you can actually SEE that it's there! Artificial plants are definitely ruled out...they're just something else to dust and I don't really want a plant hanging out behind me while I'm sleeping. Kinda creeps me out...one too many episodes of Batman and Poison Ivy and her people eating plants, I guess. I've thought about covering the headboard with a padded upholstered board, but then that wouldn't go with the metal footboard (and I can't cover it...it's funky that way). I've thought about hanging a quilt in the corner, but that would be screaming, "HEY! I'm a quilt! Hung in a corner! Not doing anything!" I've thought about hanging curtains from the ceiling and try to creat a false wall. Hubster wanted to veto that because he's afraid spiders would crawl up it and be right there over our heads to jump on us while we sleep. Ya think we have phobia issues? I'm seeing a pattern. My other thought was one of those room dividers...what are they called...privacy screens? Like what the ladies used to get dressed behind back in the old days. Why that would be any different for spiders than curtains hanging from the ceiling, I'm not sure, except to say that then there wouldn't be folds of fabric for the little 8 legged monsters to hide in.

So, anyone have any good ideas or thoughts to add to what I've posted here? I'm still thinking...

A compliment?

We had to take K-man to the pediatrician yesterday. He'd been fussy all weekend and while we know that he's doing some serious teething, that screaming bit was indicative of something else going on. Yet, he only really fussed when it came time to sleep. Well, the daycare called yesterday afternoon and our little man had woken up from naptime with a 100.2 degree fever. I immediately thought, "Ear Infection!" That's the only thing that made sense. So we got him in to see the doctor yesterday afternoon.

I met Hubby and baby there at the office and got in the little room with them about 15 minutes after they got there. It's a good thing both of us were there, as it gets increasingly difficult to entertain a one-year old in a room the size of a handicap stall in a women's restroom. What really makes the trip a keeper for the memory book is when K'ster decides it's time to relieve himself of his last three meals. I caught him squatting in the corner of the room (like there was any place to hide). Where did my child learn to squat to go potty? So, there he squatted...then stood up, then squatted, then stood up, then squatted. It was somewhat entertaining and somewhat disturbing. And if I did that squatting routine like he did everyday, I sure wouldn't have these saddle bags on my legs that so graciously add character to Shirley. After all of that squatting the baby did, he finally stood straight up, clenched his little budha belly, pursed his lips, cuts his eyes up at me, and held his breath. Good Heavens that child can stink! I knew he was finished with business when he burst out into a grin and did a little jig in front of me. I know the feeling, bubba, I know the feeling. So, now our little bathroom stall smelled the part.

Aside from the saving grace of Hubster remembering to bring a water bottle and crackers for the little kiddo, what mainly kept his (our) sanity was the little rolling stool that the doctor sits on. K-man loves to push that around that little room and whang in against the walls, the chairs, the cabinets, and the exam table - and the occasional parent. I finally sat on the rolly-stool and played him as I whirled around. He got tired of that game and got down where he could push on the legs of the stool. That child put himself in four-low and started pushing....and pushed me on that stool! Now, lemme tell ya folks, I'm no lightweight! And while I full and well realize that some dynamics were in play in relation to weight and coefficients of friction and the angle of moments along with momentun, the fact remains that my little bulldozer pushed me around. We scooped him up once we realized what he was doing and checked him out and he was fine...ticked that we had stifled his fun, but he was fine, and we deterred him from doing that again.

The morale of the story, if you're feeling bad about what you weigh, just tell someone that your 1-year old can push you around on a rolly stool. They'll all think you're light as a feather! (suckers)