PoetsHead

Poop

2011-05-30T20:57:00.000-07:00

Hello! I bet you thought I went and died and was never going to return.

Well... that's sort of what happened, but instead of dying I've been teaching.

Which is sort of like dying, but more like having to stand in front of a room of confused, resistant, curious, and poo flinging teenagers.

It is very exhausting, and in seven teaching days, it will all be over. And thank god I will be able to go back to this crazy circus next year and start all over again. I really love it, despite my sarcastic tone.

Anyway, I'm really here to talk about JG. Who, by the way, is hilarious and you've all been missing out. I will try to catch you up, over time, if I have time.

This last week I decided to give JG the option of peeing in the potty (a small training potty). I figure she's two (TWO!), she's starting to get irritated at her diapers, and I would love to stop buying them.

All I have said to her is that she can pee or poop on the potty if she wants to, she just has to let me know.

She is so entertained to see her pee it the potty and says, "I pee-peed in the potty!"

Today she pulled at her diaper, we put her on the potty...

she farted...

"I pooped!"

And indeed, a solid poop had nestled itself inside her little potty. So. Gross. But awesome.

She grinned, we congratulated her, and we all watched to poop spin its way down the toilet.

Truly amazing.

Mother

2010-12-28T20:40:00.000-07:00

Having two weeks off of school is a blessing (which is saying a lot, because I really hate using the word blessing). I am taking the time to stop obsessing about my 8th graders and how much they hate me, relax about lesson plans (I really shouldn't), and spend time with my ever-learning 19-month-old.

Ah, my daughter.

I am a mother. Have you caught on yet that it still creeps me out a little, me being a mother?

It does.

Today I have been thinking about how there are many types of mothers, even though society tends to focus on just two: the stay-at-home mom and the working mom.

I am so thankful (ugh, thankful) to be a working mom. I have no idea what to do with JG when we're home and I'm pretty sure watching more than 3-4 hours of PBS kids is not healthy for her developing brain. She even asks for Elmo, and I cringe every time.

Having the ability to go to work and to challenge myself personally is so necessary for me. At home I commonly fall into the shame-spiral - as my friend MCB calls it - where I get stuck watching TV and procrastinating things I would like to do, but can't figure out how to get the friggen TV to turn off by itself and myself motivated.

I basically turn into a fat lump on the couch. I have found myself watching JG playing and me feeling sorry for myself for not entertaining her like a good stay-at-home mom would.

I know it sounds strange, but I have a hard time leaving the house when I'm home for more than a few days. I am prone to anxiety. So, today, I wanted to leave, but had a really hard time justifying the reasons, or figuring out where to go. The sad thing is that I know my reasoning is flawed, and I know that it's silly to have an anxiety attack about doing what I want to do, but I can't help it.

So, thank you Daycare for existing and doing a much better job at teaching JG songs and dances, colors and more. I like being the person who cuddles with her, kisses her little face, and giving her whatever other affection she may need. I miss her during the week, but she loves going to daycare and her teachers are awesome, and I love benefitting from their hard work.

You could say I am the type of working mother who would like to be a good SAHM, but just isn't. I'm not sure I'm capable of handling it emotionally. Which is why I will be enrolling JG in some dance classes this summer, so we can have something to look forward to and I can feel less like a failure.

Don't I just make you so excited to have your own?

Holy Mother

2010-12-22T15:14:00.000-07:00

Having two weeks off from teaching is...
help me think of metaphors and simile's here...

a well deserved bath after having spent months neck-deep in skin irritating dirt and grime.

like finally getting to scratch that "hard to reach" spot

being able to breath deeply after escaping one of Maggie's nausea inducing farts

awesome.

P*nis!

2010-11-28T10:36:00.000-07:00

The first three months of my teaching career have been very informative. For instance, do not start out the year as a "relaxed" teacher, apparently it gives the impression to the students that you will let them get away with practically anything.

Just when I thought I had a handle on the whole classroom behavior management thing.

Two weeks ago Monday started out just fine. I felt like my students were learning, which is a big deal for me. Then, as my second class was wrapping up 8th grade Girl Student yelled, "F--- what?" No, she wasn't swearing at me, but when your... stupid enough to swear loud enough for the entire class to hear? I gave her detention, but in reflecting on this I should have sent her to the office.

In my last class of Monday one of the sweetest (?) boy students I have yelled across the room to another boy, "Your mother raped you as a child!"

Detention. Yes, what he said was awful, but that class was terrible, and there were some comments made by his classmates that I should have sent them to the office for... and because I was a terrible teacher I didn't. The 8th grader who did the yelling had been bullied all day, and he didn't quite know how to burn off that steam. Ugh.

The next day 9th grad Boy Student said the F* word in class. Not as loud, but I heard it, so I gave him detention too. I have creepy hearing. I have been informed by my principal that there are some things I need to "pretend" I don't hear.

I'm working on it.

But, that week not being over yet (we're only on Tuesday), there was plenty of time for my students to further demonstrate to me how they interpreted my management of their behavior.

Thursday, 9th grade class, we're transitioning from free write to the lesson. It is quiet. Students are being respectful and cleaning off their desks. And then.

"PENIS!"

He had perfect timing. Everything was silent. I was livid. LIVID. "Outside!" I said sternly.

"I said it," he said.

"You really think I'm going to let that go?" I said, using my meanest voice.

He stood up in a bit of a daze and went outside, I wrote a letter the the principle that read "said 'penis' out loud in class."

The worst part was I had to yell at the rest of the class to get them back on track. My creepy hearing kept hearing them say "penis...penis...penis" talking about what had just happened. I had to sternly inform them that such language was not funny and would not be tolerated.

The best part is that I have a helper teacher that period. I was so embarrassed. (I must add, the principal made 9th grade boy call his mother and repeat what he said, which made 9th grader extremely embarrassed. I am milking that for what it's worth in my professional relationship with 9th grade boy. Ha! Say penis in my class!)

So. That was, quite frankly, a shitty week. Since then I have become a much more strict and unrelenting teacher, which is no fun for me, but I have to focus on making my classroom feel safe for everybody. Things are improving, but I am continually having to reinforce procedures, which is what I should have been doing all along.

Blasted.

I should add that I really love teaching. This is the right place for me to be.

Schooled

2010-11-06T08:17:00.000-07:00

The first quarter of my teaching career wrapped up at the end of October and all I can really say about that is THANK GOD!!!!

Man.

With the start of a new quarter I feel like I'm catching my stride and starting to know who I am as a teacher. I was worried for a while that my approach wasn't going to work, but I am starting to see some changes in my students. I believe I've convinced a few resistant students to start paying attention and give themselves a chance -- I am the most excited about that. I can't stand the kid who gives up before s/he's even started.

JG is doing really well too, she is loving daycare. There have been a few times when Alex goes to pick her up she throws a fit, as in, "How dare you try to tear me from this fantastic place!" fit.

The benefit of daycare for us is how much she's learning. Holy mother, so much learning, far more than what I'm capable of teaching her at home. The other day she pointed at a face on the cover of a book and said, "Happy."

She was right, the face was smiling, the character was happy.

Oh, and JG is really popular with the other kids, including the older kids. The other morning we walked in and are instantly surrounded by three and four year olds saying "JG! JG! Are you JG's mom?" and then they make a face at her -- this scrunchy face she makes

(Pinch your lips together and scrunch your nose as if something is stinky, that's the face she makes)

which apparently caught on with the kids and the teenagers who help out too.

I have no idea where my child inherited the gene for popularity, but she oozes it. Everybody loves her. Strangers at the market (sometimes uncomfortably so), my students (I had to take her to school for a bit one day), her teachers and classmates.

When I leave her at daycare I usually tell her to be good, and her teachers say, "Oh, JG is always good." They say that with a big smile.

It's also crazy how articulate she is for a 17-month-old. New words to add to her list:

Shoes
jacket
tickle
baby
out
owl
ear
eyes
mouth
juice
hug
read
book (she likes to say "Read book")
grampa

Can you believe that?

And she dances and sings nursery rhymes she's learned at daycare, which seems to be her favorite thing in the world:

Okay, I'll stop pontificating now, and shall work harder next time to resume the use of my sarcastic voice.

Which, by the way, typically hurts the feelings of 8th and 9th graders.

Who would've thunk?

The Horror

2010-10-15T17:27:00.000-07:00

JG is 17 months old now and she is gradually growing out of her milk and soy intolerances. Thank Jesus, because let me tell you, having to avoid those two things drains all the fun out of feeding her. She still can't eat raw milk (so, having a glass of milk is out), but having milk baked into something is okay... even though it totally gives her the farts.

Which brings us to me.

Before this whole milk fiasco began I loved milk. Ice cream. Cereal with cold milk poured over it. Cream cheese icing. Soups with cream mixed in. Oh man... really, anything made delicious by milk, I loved.

And now.

Now.

I'm afraid there may be some sort of genetic reason JG has an intolerance, because I'm almost 95% positive that I am lactose intolerant.

How do I know, you ask?

Let's just say that whenever I eat something made with milk it makes itself known. At school this last week I made myself some coffee with hot cocoa mixed in (wonderfully scrumptious) and about thirty minutes later I was surrounded by a cloud of stench so thick I worried about students coming up to me and passing out.

It is horrendously embarrassing what milk does to my guts.

The good thing is that my students probably suspect their peers before they think of me. As far as they know I am devoid of body functions and I'd like to keep it that way.

Unfortunately, milk isn't always silent as it travels the twists and turns of my bowels. Sigh.

So, it turns out that I've been limiting the amount of goodies I eat... or, I should say, the times. I totally just ate two doughnuts. In quick succession. And a cookie.

I have problems.

Midterms

2010-09-26T20:18:00.000-07:00

Guh.

Sta.

Stbliethlsj.

Is it bad that I may have gotten a little lazy in my grading and gave full points if they handed in the assignment?

Especially since I spent the majority of my weekend noticing how 50-60% of my students don't hand in anything at all.

They fail because they don't try.

And I don't understand, because I was never like that, I always handed in my work. Sometimes it wasn't complete, but mainly because I never felt like finishing.

They never start.

So, no, I'm not a frustrated teacher. Not at all.

I am still alive...

2010-09-20T20:00:00.000-07:00

I am still alive, but very exhausted. So. Exhausted.

So much, in fact, that it's difficult to hold a conversation with most anybody (sorry Min) outside of school. You could ask Alex, I'm not much good conversing with him either.

School? I'm learning so much... mostly through failing, with some success sprinkled in here and there. My classes have such a wide range of students, from low to high and more, that figuring out how to teach them all is a frustrating process. And then there are the students who like to try and control the class, or argue, or just be a general pain in the ass.

I am so looking forward to having this Friday off.

And, for those of you who wanted to know how JG is doing:

She loves daycare. She is learning so much and I am continually impressed with her teachers. Four little teeth are pushing their way through her gums, so she hasn't been feeling too well.

And now I am tired and going to bed.

Bla bla bla

2010-08-24T20:54:00.000-07:00

This being the first week of school I am... my brain is... suffering.

I am not fully prepared. I do not have rolls for my classes that start tomorrow and I have no idea what we will do for 90 minutes.

I am hoping for that spark that tends to happen while I am in the shower that says, "Hot damn, this is a brilliant idea at the very LAST MINUTE!"

Sometimes the ideas aren't so great.

Oh well.

Ah, I also can't log into my computer and I have no access to the database I need to set up grades or anything else. Do I want to use the smart board in my room? Yes. Can I? Maybe?

I should really lay out some clothes tonight so I don't have to think about it tomorrow morning, but I'm not sure if I'm capable of matching colors (ever).

I guess I'll just go to bed.

So Tired

2010-08-19T19:42:00.000-07:00

School starts next week, which means I have been busy with new teacher orientation and getting my room ready this week.

With a broken elbow (see previous post) - which is the sort of broken where you are supposed to ignore the fact that it is broken, but hurts like hell when I push or pull anything. Such a joy to have a broken wing when I need to fly. (haha haha haha)

JG has also started daycare. I get to rip out my heart each morning when I leave her behind, bawling and asking me not to leave. The daycare staff said that sometimes it takes a child up to two months to adjust.

Two months.

I'm hoping that JG is in the swing of things by next week, and I have high hopes for her since everyone I have talked to says that their kid loves it. And the parents like it too.

In the future I am sure I will like it as well.

Just not so much right now.

And teaching...

Today I went to a... I can't remember the technical term for it, but I went to a Language Arts class for teachers. Being in a room full of older women who have taught anywhere from 5-20 years makes me uncomfortable.

Why? Because they all assume I'm a baby, like an 18-year-old they need to coddle and condescend to. Like "oh, look at how young she is, she obviously has no idea what she's doing."

I understand that I look much younger than I am (I'm 30, by the way), but when I meet women (and it is alway women) who automatically assume I am naive and uneducated, my skin crawls and I shut down a little.

Outside of the workplace I have no problem letting them know they're wrong, but when it's people I will see and work with again I have learned it's better to roll with the punches rather than to bite. Eventually they will learn what I know and who I am, and I'll just let them make a fool of themselves for the time being.

The funny thing is that I told my new coworker, "Gail", that the ladies behave that way around me and she didn't believe me, until she witnessed it happen from a friend of hers. Even more hilarious, she put her friend on the spot so we could clear up the misunderstanding.

I am so happy to get to work with this woman.

And now I need to go write my disclosure statement. So there.

My Child

2010-08-11T20:45:00.000-07:00

JG really loves water.

Like, really loves it. (Yes, that is the dog's water bowl she is sitting in.)

She's even more than happy to play with the water hose.

She is a funny little bug.

?

2010-08-07T21:37:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you've got to get out there and live life and try new things

and sometimes you fall on your face

you know?

Thanks husband.

You should just see my glasses up close, that's the most depressing thing.

Walker, Texas Ranger

2010-08-04T20:38:00.000-07:00

Holy crap, my baby is walking.

Walking.

Which, I guess, means I can't technically call her a baby any more, she's a toddler now. A toddler who demands to be put down in Costco, and doesn't understand when she hears the word no.

"No, JG, there is no way I am letting you walk around - people will run over you and I will have to clean your brains off the concrete."

Because, with me, everything is about JG's brains.

Unfortunately, for me, she did not understand this logic and spiraled into a screaming fit. In which she screamed the entire time we were in Costco.

What is my approach when it comes to my child throwing a fit in a public area? Unfortunately, for the other customers, I just let her.

Look, when it comes to tantrums the first rule is to let them know that their "approach" will not get them what they want.

Sometimes I will laugh at her (which doesn't improve the situation). But, mostly I just endure the dagger eyes others throw our way - today it was more along the lines of "please shut your child up so I don't have to listen to what sounds like a goat being gutted."

Anyway, back to my first point.

My child is freaking WALKING. I really need to get some video, but as you may have deduced, I am not the best mother and have yet to do it.

Mainly because my chin is still dragging on the floor.

Daycare

2010-07-28T20:23:00.000-07:00

A couple days ago I called my mom and asked her to go to a daycare open house with me so I could check it out. I told her that she asks really great questions and that would help a lot, especially since I always freeze up in those types of situations.

I told her the truth, but there was definitely another reason for asking her to come along. I needed the support of having my mommy there while I checked out the potential place my baby may be going to for 40 hours a week.

It's very freaky.

I know I talked big, saying I can't wait to hand her off to someone else, but as the school year approaches I'm starting to dread it. Not that I don't get frustrated on a daily basis with caring for my stubborn and brave girl. Oh. Man.

But, I'm starting to realize how much time during the week I will not be spending with her. Forty hours or more. My mornings will be spent racing to get us both ready to leave the house, making sure I have everything she needs and what I need, and verifying that I have indeed done my hair and put all of my makeup on (because I occasionally forget the mascara).

I do have to look like an adult when I leave the house.

Otherwise I have the potential to look like one of my students. I'm a 100 lb. waif. I am smaller than the majority of my students.

It's creepy.

And my nights will be swallowed with dinner, grading, and who knows what else. I'm just hoping I'm not too busy or distracted to suffocate her with kisses and food.

Anyway.

My mom and I checked out the daycare today and it was awesome, however it will be my plan B if I have to be put on the wait list at another daycare. The only thing going against it is that it's a bit out of the way in North Salt Lake, but it would only add about 10 minutes to my morning commute. Which is nothing when I think of how much she liked it there.

We entered the toddler room and JG instantly wanted down so she could mingle and play with toys. My child was fearless, touching, playing, riding, reading, she was out there and in the middle of it.

All the little boys ran up to her (okay, there were only three boys). Like, oooh.

JG did not want to leave.

Seriously, it took two attempts to get her out of the room, and even then I had to really hold her the second time. And outside of the toddler room she walked around (because she is doing a lot of that now) like she owned the place.

If she does go there I am confident she will learn and enjoy herself. I am just so anxious about being away from her, but I'm not sure if she will miss me.

Maybe that's what worries me?

?

2010-07-28T19:38:00.002-07:00

Is being the best of the best really a value?

A New Favorite

2010-07-27T19:33:00.000-07:00

I have a new website that I like a lot. A lot. I'm not sure how often I will go to visit it, but I really like the message that it sends.

What is that message?

That crafting takes a boatload of time. Loads. And what a pain in the ass it is that when you try to sell what you made and buyers poo-poo your prices.

Which is a major reason I don't sell my stuff. I will trade, or give, but the few experiences I have with trying to sell my toys have been less than pleasant. My mother is my #1 buyer, if that tells you anything.

The website is just a bunch of videos doing their thing for five minutes. Five minutes of stitching, piecing, sewing, anything. Nothing else. Just crafting.

I like watching how other people do their thing.

I strongly suggest you check it out here.

Urgggh.

2010-07-22T11:48:00.000-07:00

I am procrastinating making some birds a friend of mine asked for. I'm not entirely sure why I'm putting it off, because when I'm done I get to trade them in for some pretty sweet pictures.

I have the birds drawn up, now I just need to make the pattern and do it.

DO IT, DAMMIT!

I am such a wuss.

I keep thinking how I could be folding laundry, as if that is the better way to go. Laundry is never the better way to go, never let your brain (or loved ones) convince you otherwise.

Okay, I'm going to find a nice podcast and force myself to get started. And then I may show you some pictures, if, IF, I get off my lazy ass to take any.

Carley

Pass/Fail

2010-07-19T12:24:00.001-07:00

Motherhood is all about passing and failing, either your parenting method works, or it doesn't. This past week Alex and I have had to change some things around, especially since we were failing more than we were comfortable with.

So, how did we do?

First test: JG's screaming fits.

You may remember reading about me pulling my hair out while JG threw fits, and me being entirely clueless as to what action to take.

So, Alex gets home Tuesday night and JG is still being a terror. We both stare at her in frustration, and I let her scream while I make dinner and Alex deals with her. While we're eating dinner, JG is just rambling along around us and Alex gives her a bit of curry off his fork. She eats it, goes back to her thing, and then comes back for more. And more, and more.

My child does not eat. We have been wrestling with this for months, and her doctor emphasized that I should be feeding her more fatty foods, like butter (which she can't have because of the bloody poop it results in). I have tried to feed her many things, and the majority of the time she simply refuses, which leads to her being more hungry and results in her being severely irritable.

Thus: screaming fits of hungry rage.

Until this breakthrough. Surprisingly enough, as a one-year-old she is easily distracted and soon gets tired and irritated of sitting in her high chair. Most of the food on her tray goes to the dogs. However, if I allow her to go about her business and then take the opportunity to shove food in her mouth as she comes near me, SHE EATS! And, she eat enough that I am flabbergasted and a bit humiliated that I didn't think of this before.

This is our new routine: I will carry some type of food with me, say hot cereal, and I will offer some to her as she plays and comes near me. I refuse to chase after her with the food, she does have to wander back over to me to get some, but happily for me she returns to me at regular intervals and eventually eats enough to satisfy my need for her to be stuffed with food at all times (as is the drive in most mothers, commonly labeled as "food pushing").

This morning she ate a bunch of Cheerios, some pancake, and she drank some hypoallergenic formula (we are gradually starting the weaning process) and some Odwalla strawberry superfood.

I give us a PASS on this test, excuse me while I pat myself on the back.

Second test: SLEEP.

As mentioned above JG is easily distracted, and this crosses over to her nap and bed times. Nursing her to sleep has turned into a process where I just get frustrated and want to lock her in the closet, and in the end she gets what she wants: she gets to stay up with us.

And I don't get the two hours I normally get to spend with my husband at night.

Since Alex didn't see the closet solution working out for us (and probably resulting in child welfare knocking at our door) he deemed it time to put the crib back together. Because, as odd as it may sound to you, I was nursing her to sleep in her crib, and we had replaced one gate side with a guard rail. It made it easier for me to get out... and, unfortunately, easier for her to get out as well.

So on Saturday we put JG to bed in her crib and let her cry for five minutes, check on her, and on for 45 minutes until she passed out in the sitting position. Chin presses against her chest, body leaning forward, and legs sprawled in front of her. Alex eased her back, calmed her down again, and she was out.

Success? Time-wise, yes, it's been taking me two hours to get her to sleep, and most of that is spent trying to get her to lay down at all. Nap time she cries for about 10 minutes, and bed time is more like 40, and listening to her cry feels like razor blades dancing in my skull... but I am relieved not have to fight with her to get her to fall asleep.

I mean, it's still sort of like fighting... but I feel like I'm more on the winning side. The mean winning side, because it seems a bit unfair. But, what in life is 100% fair?

Pass or fail? I think it's a little of both. I'm not a big fan of letting her cry herself to sleep, but her negotiating skills (yes, google it, toddlers negotiate like crazy) are getting to the point where I want her to know that when I say "bed time" I mean it.

I am, however, still sleeping her her room when she wakes up in the middle of the night. Why?

When was the last time you woke up at two in the morning and had to comfort someone back to sleep and then go back to your own room and comfort yourself back to sleep? It's just easier to comfort together. Plus, this is a weaning process for both of us. Sadly enough, I sleep better in her room than I do my own, but I am now going to bed in my own room first.

Small steps, man, small steps.

Sleep Fight Club

2010-07-16T15:06:00.000-07:00

I say, "Nap."

She says, "No."

I say, "Sleep."

She says, "Why?"

I say, "You've got to be exhausted."

She says, "You've got to be kidding."

And this is usually the point where I start pulling my hair out, big wads of it that you can see tumbling around the wood floors in my house.

Have you ever been around a sleepy and cranky baby? Compare it to being forced to spend two hours of every day inside a small jail cell where monkeys are encouraged to throw their feces at you.

It may even be more horrible than that.

Not every day is like that... but most days are. I have to admit that I am still (for the most part) nursing JG to sleep. Which means I lie beside her and wait for her to fall asleep, sometimes it takes ten minutes, and sometimes an hour or more.

It just depends on how much patience I have. There are days where it is limitless and I will wait and wait with her until she finally nods off. Most days, however, I throw up my hands after ten minutes or so (especially if she's fighting me) and leave the room and let her do whatever it is that she does.

She wins the sleep fight about 50% of the time, the other 50% I hold her down and basically force her to fall sleep. Fighting sleep is pretty tiring.

For both of us.

Fourteen Months

2010-07-14T21:11:00.000-07:00

For those of you who read this blog regularly you may have the impression that I don't like being a mother, that I take my daughter for granted, or that I'm just not very good at this whole "mother" thing.

I will blame all of those things on my writing tone, which I have been told (and I agree) is pretty sarcastic... sometimes dripping with the stuff. If you ever meet me it may make more sense.

I will say that I am still learning how to be a good mom, but other than that I despise reading mommy blogs where the children do nothing wrong.

My children are perfect! When they poop it smells like flowers! I don't know what a tantrum is?

Nonsense mommy bloggers. Non. Sense. Therefore, my approach is more realistic, I like to try to be honest, but I do tend to leave out a lot of the awesome stuff, where I am amazed by her and what fills me with adoration.

My baby is fourteen months old today. FOURTEEN MONTHS! I am thrilled how much she has grown and developed. She talks up a thunderstorm, words include, but are not limited to:

1. Mommy
2. Daddy
3. doggy
4. puppy
5. kitty
6. hang on
7. down
8. thank you
9. mama
10. Maggie
11. really
12. hi
13. that one

and more that I can't think of right now.

JG knows what she wants and will get upset if she doesn't get it, however we are figuring out a negotiating process. She is growing more confident about walking every day. And she is hilarious and constantly doing the unexpected. All the time.

Oh man. Being a mother is such a challenge, but we are working it out together, one stress-filled and love absorbing day at a time.

Tantrum Thrower

2010-07-13T11:07:00.001-07:00

Now it may come as a shock to some that I am looking forward to the fall, when I'll start teaching and JG will start going to daycare. I know many mothers believe it is sacrilege to want to hand your precious one over to other people... but, honestly? I think it will do me and JG some good to have some time to each other.

I know, be offended now, and get over it.

My daughter is a very opinionated and strong minded being, both traits I am happy to see she has inherited from her family (and reminds me constantly of my grandma). However, it also means that when she doesn't get what she wants she has the tendency to blow up. Something I can definitely identify with, since as a child I once told my PE teacher to F-off because running in 100 degree weather was something I simply would not do.

For a long time this just meant she would scream at the top of her lungs while I made dinner and had to leave her on the floor to protect her from the hot surfaces on the stove. She doesn't care, she hates being ignored, and when she wants to be held she will throw a fit until she gets what she wants.

We've been working on this, with me telling her that I will not pick her up until she stops crying, and for a bit that strategy was working.

However.

However.

This last week there has been a new development. I'm not sure when she worked out that when she's hurt and crying I scoop her up without asking her to stop. So.

So.

Last week I watched her throw herself to the floor and scream when I was on the phone with my sister. One second she was supporting herself without a problem, and then she used all of her kinetic energy to drop like a sack of very small potato's to the kitchen floor. Her body even made a small thud when it hit the floor.

On Sunday we were watching Ponyo (eh) and JG was trying to play with the house phone and making noises for us to watch her. Alex and I had our attention focused on the movie, and apparently this really upset her, because Alex watched her bite her arm and then scream like she had just been stabbed with hot pokers.

Tiny hot poker teeth.

How hard can a 14-month-old bite herself? Well, initially there were teeth marks, by the end of the day they were welts, and two days later she has bruises on her arm.

Can you believe that?! My child bit herself so hard she bruised.

I bought a book to help me figure out how to help her through this, I read about 50 pages and then lost it. In my house. And no, I don't know how I did that or where it is. With me, if I go looking for it it's almost a 100% guarantee I won't find it. So.

So.

It is very hard for me to get anything done while she is awake, because if I am not fully engaged with her she can get very mad. She's not like that all the time, but enough that I have been conditioned to just give her what she wants (when she can actually have it, we do have rules even if she hates them).

So, I am looking forward to getting some time to myself this fall, even if I will have to work my ass off to learn how to be a good teacher. Oh, man, I am going to be so exhausted.

2010-07-12T08:19:00.000-07:00

I'm not entirely sure what to write... I have come up with about a dozen posts and have failed to write any of them... out of laziness? Performance anxiety?

It's definitely not to say that nothing has been going on. Hell, my house has been a bubbling pot of activity this past month. What has gone on?

1. Lost dog (Stella)
2. Found puppy
3. Found dog
4. Amputated what was left of dog's tail
5. Family reunion (many hot days in the sun with people I'm proud to call family)
6. Brought puppy (now called Maggie) home
7. Celebrated the 4th of July with our very own, very illegal fireworks just three blocks from our police station (we were the pre-show and our neighbors loved it)
8. Cared for a sick and grumpy JG (with a 100 degree fever)
9. Pulled my hair out due to insane puppy and dog combo.

This week I am going to try and post something every day, get myself back into the swing of things.

Also, I'm thinking about setting up a lunch this week, and possibly a movie with people who are interested in such things. However, I must attach a warning as being a SAHM has made me a terrible communicator and entertainer... so it may just seem like you're eating next to a person you're not entirely aware of. Not to worry though, JG will make sure you're aware of her, she's good at that.

Also, would anyone be interested in a toy/doll making class given by me?

Because this song is awesome

2010-06-20T18:48:00.002-07:00

Eclipse

2010-06-11T11:00:00.000-07:00

Ok, ladies, who is up for going with me to make copious amounts of fun of Eclipse when it comes out June 30th?

Hmmmmmmm?

Oh, and I got a job. I will be an English teacher for 7th, 8th, and 9th graders next year. It sounds both wonderful and excruciating, but I don't think it would be teaching otherwise.

I look forward to hearing from any takers (and believe me, going to these movies simply to point and laugh is a blast).

Braincation

2010-05-25T09:23:00.000-07:00

So... three weeks? That's not pathetic at all for a blog absence.

A lot has been going on, I just haven't taken the time to write about it. For instance, JG turned one. ONE! It was a big day for me, mainly because there were days when I told myself, "If I can just make it through this first year..."

Those were the days when JG wouldn't stop crying, I couldn't calm her and I couldn't find any comfort in being a mother. It was sort of a nightmare and I had trouble imagining why I got pregnant in the first place.

It's not like it took practically two years for me to get pregnant with a viable fetus or anything.

But as the year progressed and we gradually figured out her protein intolerances, we got to know JG. When she's not having a reaction she's quite a pleasant and funny person. Lately she's been pointing at my belly button questioningly, and when I tell her what it is she repeats: "elly utton." The b's are very quiet, she almost has it.

Adorable.

She smiles and laughs easily. However, she doesn't hesitate to complain, and she's fond of tantrums... we are working on that.

And slowly her guts are allowing her to eat more diverse things, like scrambled eggs, and maybe even cooked dairy (because I accidentally fed her some and she didn't scream-poop and there was no bloody poop either *joy*).

(why yes that is a black eye)

Now that JG has been here for a year, I can honestly say I am the better for it. I have learned so much. SO. MUCH. I am also really thankful that this first year is over, it was one of the hardest years of my life.

I'm excited to watch her grow, and I hope I can continue to grow with her.

Potential

2010-04-30T12:07:00.000-07:00

I left school today feeling a combination of horrible and horrified.

I have a variety of students in class, from the exceptionally talented and smart, to the... how should I put it? Lazy and dumb? But, they're not really dumb, just too lazy to do anything about it.

In that mix is a girl, let's call her "Girl Student," who is exceptionally bright, full of "potential." And, by "potential," I mean that if she just put her back into it she would be a straight A student with colleges panting at her door offering up scholarships. In my minds eye I see her as a math professor, because I think she could go as far as she wanted to.

However.

Before I say anything, let me emphasize that I like this girl. Yes, she has mouthed off, and yes she is full of angry energy, and yes she thinks she is a bad-ass, but I like her. Angry 14-year-olds can grow up to be well rounded and adjusted people, just ask yours truly.

Horrified.

Girl Student came into to class early today, looking all relaxed and happy, which made me happy for her. Until she stood close to me to complain about being hungry and I inhaled. What did I smell? What does the rest of the class smell and keep mentioning/complaining about the rest of the period?

Skunk.

Now, Girl Student claims to not smell this, even though I know it is emanating from her.

Huh? those of you with soapy clean pasts may be asking, while those of us who have slid through the mud and gotten it caught in our teeth sigh "oh."

Let me catch you up. Girl Student reeked of skunky pot (I don't know if that means it was really good weed, or cheap-ass weed). I felt a combination of things like, "Yeah, relaxing is great," and "Holy mother my 9th grader is high" and "What do I do? Who do I tell, if anybody?"

Horrible.

Around this time the original biology teacher comes in, let's call her Mrs. Biology. She hears the complaints about the skunk and she smells it. So, feeling a tad cornered with my knowledge I spill the beans to her in the hallway.

I tattletaled like a kindergartner who doesn't know the playground rules yet. When we went back into the classroom I could see Girl Student looking at me like she knew what I had done... but, what else was there I could do?

I feel a little sick. Mrs. Biology said she would tell/talk to the counselor, and now it's out of my hands. I just keep thinking how Girl Student is on such the wrong track, and with each mistake she makes she is losing more and more of her foothold on the future. Sometimes failures and mistakes are easy to move on from, sometimes they're a boon to learn from, but allowing yourself to treat yourself like shit is well... It's just stupid.

I just want to take Girl Student home and feed her ice cream. So many angry/hurting/destructive students are lacking healthy home lives. I feel horrible because Girl Student and I were building a good relationship, where maybe she was beginning to trust me, and I ratted her out for smoking pot.

Hopefully, it's for her own good.

But I don't wanna

2010-04-29T14:26:00.000-07:00

Productivity is a thing that comes and goes for me lately. I either want to or I don't. The motivation is there or it isn't.

It makes me very moody, mainly because I like getting things done. The last couple of weeks I've been working on my quilt, and amazingly enough I have the top and bottom done, all I have to do now is lay them out with the batting and baste it all together.

Easy, right?

Except that I am making a queen size quilt and there isn't a queen size space in my house to lay it out and baste it (I want to make sure I get everything even). Why not do it outside on the grass?

Because of the freakin' wind, rain, snow, and periodic hail.

Bah!

Unfortunately, I'm a little crazy. Since I have set my sights on getting the quilt basted (loosely sewn together) it's very difficult for me to move on to something else (like making that doll for the upcoming family reunion my mom asked for).

(I should also mention that there is a folding table at Costco that I have decided I can't live without, and since I don't have it yet it is hard to start making something... because, having it would make making something so much easier.)

Usually when I come to this type of creative precipice I throw up my hands and watch yet another episode of Angel on Netflix. But today, I had Glee recorded and laundry to fold, and in order to allow myself to watch Glee I had to fold the laundry.

Do I sound nuts to you yet?

So, while I was not creatively productive today, I was housewife productive.

And as soon as I buy myself that table, I will be otherwise productive as well.

poop

2010-04-25T13:09:00.001-07:00

For those of you thinking about bringing home your very own bundle of joy, I have only one thing to say to you:

You better like poop.

Because as soon as you take that sweet squirming thing home you will have to become fast friends with its poop, there will be lots of it.

And when I say "lots of it" I mean there is going to be more poop than you are accustomed to coming in contact with. Maybe you've had a dog or cat and they have had the periodic accident in the house, but that is still not comparable to baby.

(I understand that my bundle of joy, when she was tiny, may had produced more poop than normal because of her intolerance, but I stand solid in my opinion.)

Now, when baby poops it is unpredictable in timing and mass. And aiming. Say you've just taken baby's diaper off to change it, when BAM! and unexpected spray arches up and over and onto your pants. Your. Pants. Or shorts, or skin, or whatever happens to be in the landing area of the poop. Because that stuff can fly.

As baby grows up so does her poop. It goes from a thin goo, to a thicker goo, and eventually to (depending on diet and gut issues) solid poop. JG's poop differs on a daily basis depending on what decisions/mistakes I've made in what I feed her. When she goes a day or two without soy in her diet (or mine) she gets some stinky, solid poops. Okay, well, they are all smelly blobs of disgusting.

I think she prefers to be alone for her solid poops, because she'll wander off to another room and return all stinky. Like, "Oh, my lord, are toting WMD's around in your pants?!"

Not only do I get to smell her daily gifts (suffocate, more like), but cleaning them up is always a... joy? I get to find out if a gob of poo will find its way onto my hand, or if the diaper might fly open at the wrong moment and fling poop onto the floor. Or, maybe the diaper has proven no match and the poo has spread up her back and out the sides onto onesie and pants.

That is always a joy.

What I'm trying to get across here is that in one way or another you will come into contact with your offspring's poop. It's unavoidable.

Un-a-void-able.

Which is why I always try to make Alex do it.

That's what husbands are for, right?

Baby

2010-04-15T19:25:00.000-07:00

At the grandparents:

Before a bath:

Feeding herself:

Giggling while Alex blows on her face:

At some restaurant (I think that's her "what food are you going to give me?" look):

This is what you get for now. Hope you're all having a good week.

Ah-HA!

2010-04-10T09:28:00.000-07:00

For those of you holding on to your tippy-toes waiting for my mind to return to me, the word is Routine. I am a very routine (not schedule) oriented person.

Here is how it usually goes:

I wake up
Change JG's diaper (if she's up)
Put JG in the midst of toys and feed the animals
Put tea kettle on to boil
Play with JG
Get the computer and waste time checking email, blogs, and playing with facebook fish...

And on and on. I know, it is SO exciting, which may only punctuate how strange I am that when that routine changes (like not having to go to work) I break down a little.

What a weirdo.

I have to grade papers and stuff now, something I've been procrastinating all week! Joy!

Craft Therapy

2010-04-08T20:32:00.000-07:00

*Warning* Please be aware that some swearing follows... mainly because I feel like it, and also, swears are just words. However, I do know that some of you feel offended or hurt by four-letter words, so please feel free to stop reading here and for this post find another blog to read to procrastinate whatever it is that you are procrastinating. Oh, and thanks for reading.

Oh. My. God.

You GUYS!

I love fabric.

I love the feel of it, the colors, the possibilities!

And, a small apology for my poor me, bitchy post previously. I needed to get some stuff off my chest, obviously. And, anytime my schedule (the real word I'm looking for starts with a T, but for the life of me I cannot grasp it!) changes, I get anxious. As if the whole world just crumbled and I'm standing in the middle, looking around as if it's my duty to put it all back together.

Dude, if Humpty couldn't put himself back together... wait, my analogy is getting lost even on me...so. What I'm trying to say is that I am crazy at times, and I need to learn to weather them better.

Which is why craft therapy is such a freaking gift. Also, that part of my brain that was with-holding my creative impulse finally turned on again - but for only one thing.

A quilt.

You should know that I've really only made one blanket, never a quilt. The only reason I feel the compulsion to approach such a task is because of the queen size quilt batting I bought (hoarded) some... seven or eight years ago.

Yes. YEARS. I know how that sounds.

I haven't made a quilt in all that time because the math of it all escapes me. I can think of designs (sort of) but the logic of putting it together confuses the hell out of me. Then I get pissed off. Then I quit.

Because, I am a quitter. Usually an angry one (as you may have observed from my many complaints on this blog).

But I finally resolved to make something simple simple, something even a math simpleton like myself may be able to approach.

I will try to post photo's as I go, but you all know how good I am at that. I'm just hoping I don't do something in the middle of it to irritate me and make me quit.

Because, like I stated before, I am a quitter.

And now I'm going to go enjoy some Angel. Because I love David Boreanaz and Joss Whedon.

Tight

2010-04-06T10:24:00.002-07:00

Have you ever had the sense that the fabric you are made of is being pulled taught, and the more you move the more shallow your breath becomes?

It's strange, I was really looking forward to having a week off, having time to accomplish some of the random things that have been swimming around in my head... but, I can't seem to jump start my head into going forward. Instead it rummages deeper into the past and finds things that I am irritated about, things I have buried and/or thought I was over.

I am still mad at Westminster for the ONE teacher who treated me like a child. I am angry at her for staining my experience, which up until that point was splendid.

I keep thinking about my grandmother and how much I miss her. I'm not sure if I'm angry that she's gone, but I keep replaying this memory of when I was about 14 and she gave me this pair of dangly gold earrings. She asked if I wanted them and emphasized that if I didn't that would be okay. I looked that the earrings, which to me at 14 seemed gaudy and over-the-top, and told her no, I didn't want them. My friend Courtney was there at the time and said she was amazed, she could never have said anything like that to her grandmother. I thought Grandma didn't mind, but I noticed later in the day that her feelings were a little hurt.

To this day I feel guilty for hurting her feelings about something so trivial. She never said anything, but she was the kind of woman who's eyes spoke novels, if you looked the right way.

I'm also irritated that I can't seem to spend any money. I know. Lame. Every time I go to buy something I think I want the moment I take the action to purchase it I'm not interested anymore. I'm like a balloon, all filled up with excitement at the thought of having something new, only to deflate when I realize that owning it wouldn't do me that much good.

What happened to the consumer inside me? I still have that little voice that urges me to buy, but apparently it's being tempered with my budding buddhism, which says that such things are unnecessary for true happiness.

It's true, but I'm 30! I AM THIRTY, and I have this selfish need to gift myself something (sort of like a pat on the back) for the amazing year I've had: masters degree, baby, SAHM, job, other stuff. I just can't think of what that gift should be, or when I do I don't want it anymore. Take that capitalism!

And JG has been keeping me up all night. She wiggles and whimpers and cries and refuses to let me sleep on my own. I'm not sure how to rectify the situation, I know that she's miserable because of teething, but when we're both miserable the next day due to little sleep no one is the better for it.

Poor Alex, he the one having to deal with all of this.

Hey

2010-04-02T21:09:00.001-07:00

Marriage Ref is hilarious.

and

I'm really digging Ugly Betty. I'm going through the first season (checking it out from the library) and I find it adorable and interesting. Some of the writing is a bit weak (repetitive), but the characters totally make up for it. And anytime a television show is in its first season you've got to forgive some minor snafoo's.

I have only watched the first eight episodes, mainly because I was using it as an excuse to do nothing... which I really don't need any help with. I have been doing nothing for two weeks now.

JG, on the other hand, is on the verge of walking. It started with pulling herself up to a kneeling position. Over the past three days the kneel has turned into standing, and she is using EVERYTHING to stand. Along with the standing she is starting to take a couple of steps.

Oh. Crap.

Oh, she has been refusing to sleep on her own. I'm putting it down to teething, but man am I tired. I'm also going to use that as my excuse for doing nothing.

(Now, when I say "nothing" I mean in terms of crafting or anything productive for me. I have been lesson planning and whatnot for my one class. But, I get home, I do nothing. I watch Ugly Betty.)

This next week I have spring break. Spring mother-loving-break! Nine consecutive days of no schedule, no driving an hour all over the valley to get to where I need to be, and hopefully getting things done.

Eh.

2010-03-22T18:36:00.001-07:00

It can be very grating to spend my mornings with a group of lazy, apathetic teenagers. For the most part they are your average 14/15-year-olds, eyes glazed over, talking non-stop, and drinking overly caffeinated beverages. However, the majority of them are also brilliant, which may only add to my aggravation.

Suffice it to say they may be rubbing off on me. I have always been a procrastinator, but it may be getting worse. For example, I haven't updated this blog for a week.

I just didn't feel like it.

It's not like nothing happened, I did turn 30 last week. THIRTY.

JG is cutting two teeth, which is really adding to her...um, pleasant demeanor? Last night she would not sleep without me, so I just threw the towel in and went to bed early with her. It's uncomfortable, my arms fall asleep, but by golly she didn't cry all night. (We here at the PoetsHead household don't have the patience for the "cry it out" method. I've adopted my sisters logic: there is such a short window of time where you can fulfill ALL of your child's needs, why deny them something that can be so easy to give?)

Mael is out of his cone. For now. Already I can see his foot getting bad again, but I figure that he should have some time out of the confinement of his cone.

Alex brought home a Doctor Who pinball machine. He now has FOUR pinball machines.

I am such a good wife.

I got my hair cut. It's really short and I really like it, but the back of my head and neck are cold all the time. What is up with that?

And, finally, JG is 10-months-old. Holy crap, she'll be a year-old in no time.

(Here she is last month, taming a wild balloon Alex gave her)

Words

2010-03-10T19:16:00.001-07:00

I was being a bad mother earlier and letting JG play with plastic bags she found on the shelves while crawling around. She had pulled one of the plastic tab things off and I bent over and said "Let mommy have that."

And you want to know what she said?

"No."

(I took it from her anyway, the sooner she learns that what she says doesn't matter the better... in regards to the long list of things I do not want to find in her diaper.)

She continued to play with the plastic bags and started choking/coughing (not on the plastic tab), I asked her if she was okay, and you want to know what she said?

"Yeah."

Alex can confirm that.

Holy crap.

Words.

She'll be ten months old on Sunday, and in addition to those two words we have heard her say, "Hi", "Dad" (though Alex claims she didn't - even though she looked right at him and said it), and maybe "Mama." However, she hasn't really looked directly at me and said that, but when she's upset she will repeat it until I scoop her up.

She also tries words. She'll look at the cats and a sound similar to but not quite like "kitty" comes out of her mouth. Other maybes include "dog" and "Stella" and maybe "Delihla" (her grandparents dog).

On the unfortunate front she had a bloody diaper on Monday, most likely from something she ate, not something I ate. In hopes of helping her colon heal I am going back on my strict no milk diet. No more milky goodness for me. But that's okay, and I'll explain more in my next post.

Fortunately (or not) the craving part of my brain demanded that I buy donuts on Sunday, so I bought a cake donut and a jelly donut and ate one in the parking lot and the other in my driveway.

In about five minutes.

Seriously.

So. Good.

A Good Mistake

2010-03-02T21:22:00.000-07:00

I just ate a cookie. I might pay for it later, but not how you think.

Let me back track -- last Thursday we went to Cafe Rio for giant burritos. I asked the cashier what the horchata was like and in a moment of... shall we say thoughtlessness (?) I drank the sample she handed me.

For those of you who don't know, horchata is a mexican rice drink made with milk. Milk, or rather, it's fat and flamboyant brother, condensed milk.

It was delicious.

I wanted to smack myself on the back of the head afterwards. First off, tasting the horchata broke one of my many "avoiding milk for JG rules" -- don't eat anything white. Because most white foods contain milk.

I spent the next day waiting for JG's reaction. With the chocolate the reaction was immediate, with two days of her screaming bloody murder before pooping, but that was two months ago.

She was fine all day Friday, and by Saturday morning I was fantasizing about a bacon cheeseburger from Crown Burger.

Holy. Mother.

Wait.

Understand for a moment that over the past seven months I have built a thick cast iron wall around my desire for anything milk related. Yes, I have pined for donuts and dreamed about bingeing on a buffet of butter drenched goodness. In the past whenever I ate anything with milk in it JG would poop blood and scream like crazy, so it was easier to avoid the milk than deal with my angry baby.

Convinced my fantasy was just a fantasy, I asked Alex for his input. Was I correct in my observation of JG's non/slow/reduced reaction?

He CONFIRMED it and agreed to a visit to the burger Val Halla of Salt Lake valley.

OH. MY. GOD.

The cheese was so sweet it overpowered the bacon. OVERPOWERED it. If you're a vegetarian or something crazy like that, you may not understand the magical properties bacon contains. I am positive a bacon fairy exists to spread joy on earth... however...

The cheese fairy is bigger and systematically beat the bacon fairy's ass in the taste category.

For me, anyway.

We watched JG carefully for the rest of the day for signs, and there were none. No screaming, no bloody diapers (NO BLOODY DIAPERS), nothing to say, "This hurts, I'm disappointed, and I hate you."

Only. The only thing that hinted at a reaction was some wakefulness. Thursday she woke up at 10:30 PM (she goes to bed around 7) and would not go back to sleep until midnight, and Saturday morning she woke at 4:00 AM and didn't fall back to sleep until 5:30 AM.

It could have been the cheese, or it could be teething. (Teething exists simply to torture mothers with guessing games.)

Other than wakefulness JG was fine.

I was not.

I don't want to go into detail, but the toilet and I made friends.

Apparently going on a strict no milk diet has made my guts forget how to digest the stuff.

I spent Sunday feeling queasy. I spent Sunday thinking of how to slowly work milk back into my diet. Strangely enough, rather than being super excited, I'm frightened.

So, when JG screamed before pooping Monday night I was both relieved and saddened.

It may have been the milk, or it could have been something else.

For now I might sample small pieces of things with milk ingredients, but I won't go full tilt. I am so thrilled that JG's system is healing and progress is being made in terms of maturation.

So, Milk, I'm eyeing you. Soon, Milk, soon.

Through Their Eyes

2010-02-27T12:04:00.000-07:00

Over the past nine months I have been a stay-at-home-mom, which means I spend most of my time inside with nobody but myself, JG, and Alex to see me. Which means I spent little to no time thinking about my appearance or doing much to "keep myself up." So, when I got a job where I would be standing in front of 14-year-olds I knew I would have to make some wardrobe changes.

Especially in the bra area.

Why? Well, because I know how much you love to hear about my boobs, let me tell you. The four nursing bras I bought last year are all in the DDD/F area. As time goes by your breasts learn how much milk to carry, and gradually they shrink down a bit. Meaning, my nursing bras (or "feeding harnesses") were doing little in the way of supporting the ladies. They were almost greeting my belly button on a daily basis.

I became painfully aware of this when I realized that standing in front of a group of 14-year-old boys with my hoots danglin' in the wind and standing at attention (pointy-wise) would not be a good idea.

You may naively ask, Why?

Um, have you met teenage boys? Do you know what they think about? Or what new hormones they have coursing through their veins?

To be honest, I was sort of terrified. If you're a woman you may have experienced the "blank stare" from the opposite sex while walking, or sitting, or standing, or anywhere. Those glazed over eyes that translate to "What were you saying? I was distracted by your boobies, I swear they want me to touch them."

Is that going too far? I just want to communicate to you how I have felt about my boobs over the years. Sometimes it can work to your advantage, but in no way does it work that way in the classroom. I had one professor who REALLY needed a better bra. Her party hats were so distracting that I would get lost thinking about how she needed to cover them up, and then I wouldn't know what she had just said.

All this to say that having good coverage and support is a priceless tool in a teachers arsenal.

So I went to the Lactation Station yet again where I was set up. I love going there. LOVE IT. When I told the owner that I was going to teach teenagers she knew I would want padded bras. I didn't have to say it. She knew.

I found three great bras and I'm very pleased.

However.

My boobs are still huge, double D's. While I try to do my best in making them an understated part in the classroom, there are times when I move or point, or something, and catch someone looking at them.

Oddly enough, it has been the girls I catch. I can't blame them though, mainly because I just admitted to looking at my professors boobs.

I promise not to write about boobs again for a while.

Hello

2010-02-23T21:17:00.000-07:00

I am still here, I'm just mentally exhausted. I know it may sound strange to you, but my one hour of working every day is taking it out of me. Today is first day I did not nap with JG, it's nine PM and I am going to bed, where I may just pass out as soon as my head hits my tower of pillows.

Stay tuned for a post on my boobs. Hey, I can see you rolling your eyes in the back row there, but I can only give you what my head comes up with.

Busy Week

2010-02-13T11:34:00.001-07:00

This week started out innocently enough. JG and I laid back and had a relaxing Monday, where JG got bathed, she napped and I sewed monsters. It was nice, and I wasn't expecting much of the rest of the week.

Until I received a phone call on Tuesday.

From a principal.

Asking if maybe I would be available to teach one biology class at his charter school for the rest of the year. And could I meet with him to talk about it?

I think my heart stopped.

I've been obsessing lately over money and how in the world can I get out of the house to maintain my sanity? and this sounded a bit like an answer to my prayers. If I could get through the meeting/interview without making an ass out of myself... which may be a rare thing for me, especially in my "mommy brained" state.

(Mommy brained: the inability to form sentences or remember big words from degrees you have earned, and a general loss of any social graces you may have had before having a child.)

Amazingly enough, I made it through the meeting without sticking my foot in my mouth, and left the interview very hopeful. When I got the call from the principal an hour later offering me the job (one class of 18 ninth graders) I was thrilled. Thrilled. Still am, as a matter of fact, however it hasn't completely hit me yet. I've had to pause every now and then to think, "Hey, I'm a Biology teacher now!"

Also, I have a lot of cramming to do. I passed the test to teach the subject, but I like to be knowledgeable when I'm teaching. I also have a lot of lesson plans to write. Oh, man, so much time will be spent planning. It is so awesome. Seriously.

And the hours are perfect for me. Five days a week I go in from 8:30-9:30 AM and teach, and I'm getting paid an additional two hours for prep time, which is very sweet of them to do. So I'll get paid for seven hours every week. While that may sound minimal to you, it will get me out of the house, give JG an opportunity to spend time with much loved relatives, and I'll get to be a teacher. A Biology teacher.

A very big thanks to Joan for dropping my name to this principal, and letting him know I'm endorsed to teach English and Biology. Apparently that's valued at my new school.

As a congratulations to myself I ordered my light-up LA Gear gold shoes. They'll be here Tuesday!

I am such a freaking nerd!

A Biology teaching nerd!

Woot.

A dark yearning

2010-02-05T10:23:00.001-07:00

Okay.

I have to admit something.

I was watching Ellen the other day. And, whilst watching Ellen, where she had sent a viewer to the Grammy's gift tent, I saw a pair of shoes that I'm not sure I cannot live without.

Seriously.

Now, I have a couple things to say before I show you the shoes. First off, I don't believe that buying things will fill some empty chasm in my soul. I know better. For that reason I have forsaken buying new clothes whilst being a stay-at-home-mom (I mean, really, my uniform is sleep pants and a sweat shirt, it's HOT and practical). And, when I eventually get a job, I've made rules as to what professional clothes I can buy and how much. I don't need a huge wardrobe, just enough so that my students don't make fun of me. I want them to make fun of me for who I am, not for what I'm wearing.... (Mainly because I remember some of my high school teachers who wore the same thing week after week.)

Secondly, these shoes are on the edge of being horrendously ugly. And that is exactly how I like my shoes. I want to be able to pass people and have their faces contort as if asking, "Why God, why make such shoes that make me feel as if I'm going to be smothered by a group of tiny mouth-breathing toe-biters?"

Okay, I doubt that's what they'd really think, but it would put a smile on my face if it did.

And, thirdly, these shoes LIGHT UP. YES! You know, like the shoes you see little kids running around in? YES! I WANT THEM SO BADLY!

They also remind me of the LA Gear shoes I had when I was 11. (But those were pretty, not ugly.)

Now, there are two colors I'm trying to decide between (for that other dimension where I can buy anything on impulse) - gold and red. I'm leaning a bit more towards the gold, mainly because they say GAUDY so well, but the red ones are nice too.

I know, you're asking yourself why you ever bothered to read my blog in the first place. But it's about to get better.

The gold ones have pink lights (in the heel!) and the red ones have red lights, of course.

Now can you see how crazy I am? The kind of crazy that longs to spend $100 bucks on a pair of hideous gold shoes that have pink lights and light up with ever step I take? I have to keep reminding myself I am going to be 30 next month, and are these really the type of shoes a 30 year-old would wear?

What?

I STILL want them...

2010-02-01T21:32:00.000-07:00

I just want one night where I know I will sleep a straight 8 hours, where I won't wake up to pee, or JG won't wake up and need me for something, or the dog won't wake up and need to go outside to pee, or the cone-head cat won't need to sleep next to me under the covers and cleaning himself.

I just want one night of uninterrupted sleep.

Just. One.

It won't happen. But I thought I would put it out into the chaos of the universe and see if it could happen.

Soon, maybe?

Hey, in three months I can eat all the doughnuts and ice cream I want. So, if you see me in June sometime with powdered sugar and chocolate around my mouth, calmly remove yourself from the situation. I can't promise anything about my behavior.

Working

2010-01-24T15:57:00.002-07:00

So JG's naps have been terrible this past week. Not only is she fighting the afternoon nap as if it were a cloaked Romulan warbird (yes, I am that kind of nerd), but when she does nap it's only for 30 minutes.

Suffice it to say, I have had very little time to work on anything. Meaning my house is a mess and I have made one monster in the past two weeks. One. And I haven't even sewn him up completely.

In my head I'm working on some new patterns. I'm planning on using some of my dad's old Levi's to make a soft denim monster, but what kind of monster I am unsure of. I am in this creative space where I am lazy and know I should be making things, but instead am busy adding new photo's on facebook.

So. Sad.

I should just give myself a date where I'm going to reopen the etsy store and go for it. Give myself a friggin due date. But my banner is old and I can't figure out how to make a new one. (And it has the added bonus of giving me yet another excuse to not get things done.)

So. Pathetic.

Plus, I have to deal with this:

Yeah, I think that's puss.

So. Gross.

This was taken a couple of weeks ago, his foot is doing better now, but I'm a little sick of playing nurse to my gimpy cat. The bigger/longer cone has made it so he can't reach his foot, so hopefully it will actually heal completely in the next two or so weeks.

Otherwise I'm going to amputate it. Take that gimpy cat!

And, finally, the obligatory JG photo. She really enjoys chewing on her sweaters.

It is Done

2010-01-23T15:20:00.000-07:00

I did it.

I finally followed the crowd.

I joined facebook.

I know, you are all utterly amazed and can't believe it... or you don't really care. Whatever.

I was thinking this last week about what an isolationist I am, how I spend so much time all by my lonesome (and JG), and how I am horrible at reaching out and being social.

Now, I realized that in today's day and age there is technology that can help to temper such an unhealthy way of living. It's called social media, and I too can join the herd and connect with people I haven't talked to in years.

And I have! Old best friends, ex-boyfriends (ok, just the one), people I went to school with.

But, I do have to say that I'm only acknowledging the people with names I recognize (and let me tell you, I am terrible with names).

It's so weird to talk the people I haven't known anything about for so long. It's really nice to catchup and see how well they're doing. No one that I know of has ended up in a crack house with some nasty monkey on their back. And that is good. All is good.

The sky hasn't fallen the way I thought it would if I signed up. I'm actually pretty happy I did.

Bad Mommy

2010-01-19T21:34:00.000-07:00

I had a bite of chocolate.

It was French.

It was smooth and creamy and crunchy and dammit it left my tongue wanting more. Seriously, I have not had a piece of chocolate in six months. Six months. When I was pregnant I ate the stuff every day, so having to go without for so long has been... well, not that bad actually. (I've learned to really love juice.)

Anyway.

Now, you may ask, why am I eating chocolate, when most chocolate has MILK in it?

What?

The doctor said JG has an INTOLERANCE, not an allergy, and I thought why not? Alex was eating a French bar of the good stuff and for the first time I had the impulse to make myself happy, rather than making sure that JG doesn't bleed out of her butt... colon.

I had a bad mommy moment (and my dreams are filled with them, nightmares really, where I pig out on ice cream only to realize after my third milkshake that I can't eat the stuff - oh my poor baby girl!)

Was it a good choice?

No.

But at least it was only two days of screaming poop (because the intolerance causes a lot of pain, I imagine) with flecks of blood. It used to be three days. So her colon is slowly learning how to deal with the milk proteins, and hopefully in a couple of months there will be more improvements.

And then, and then, those milkshakes better be shaking in their boots because I'm gonna get so fat eating their offspring.

So. Fat.

Considerations

2010-01-14T12:18:00.000-07:00

I am much better at making/creating things when I have due dates, or a reason. I also don't like to have my creations staring at me for months, I like it better when they are gone.

Therefore, I am considering reopening my etsy shop. Yes, I had one years ago, and for many reasons I closed it.

However, I feel I might do a better job of making toys if I knew I had to fill up a shop to get people interested, to get them to buy things.

And also to pay student loans. Because I am doing such a good job of using my degree right now.

What do you think people would be interested in? Monsters, dolls, Testy Chickens? Or should I just start making and see what happens?

Eh?

Eh?

Eh?

Returning to say Hello

2010-01-13T12:08:00.000-07:00

We had a nice weekend until our basement drainage pipe decided to call it quits. Again. This happens about once a year, when our feces come up to tell us where they've been.

"Hey! You know how you flushed me three days ago! Well, just thought you should know I've been hanging out in that pipe... until now... Hello!"

And this is the part when I gag and hate my drainage pipe with a burning rage. Luckily we caught it before the puddle got too large, however once the drain says, "No more traffic allowed," we can't use the water.

Because if you do, the puddle just gets bigger. The puddle filled with poo and Jesus knows what else.

(Hold on, gagging, holding vomit back)

So I called the Roto-Rooter guy out to run a snake down. Again.

You should have seen the ball of roots he pulled out.

Imagine that a guinea pig took up residence in our drainage pipe and set up house, and got fat off of... I'll let you answer that.

But he pulled that guinea pig out (it was more sliced out, with this weird rotating blade) and now our pipe is clear. Unfortunately, that damned guinea pig (giant balls of roots) will grow back and start this whole disgusting process over again.

However, if we want it to remain clear it would cost almost $7000 to rid our house of the problem. Also, the solution would probably kill the shrubbery out front, and possibly break our awesome AC unit, because a bunch of plumbers would have to come and dig holes to access said evil pipe and burst it.

When the Roto guy pitched this to me he made it sound as if this decision would be made soon and we would have him right back to fix the problem.

Um, huh? I was standing in my hallway, in my cow pajama's and worn old slippers holding JG. What about me said I'm made out of money?

So, now I've got to devise a plan to douse my concrete floor with bleach to kill any poo particles still hanging on for dear life. Sorry, poo, but I flushed you for a reason.

Now stay there.

New Years Funk

2010-01-06T11:58:00.001-07:00

Without meaning to I fell into a bit of a funk. I was on a forced creative high before Christmas, trying to get things done, but it only takes one failure (stupid doll dress) for me to throw my hands up in the air and say to hell with it.

For my sanity's sake, making things keeps me emotionally healthy and happy. So, now that I'm not making anything, or haven't figured out what to do with myself while JG is napping, I'm watching far too much TV.

I'm losing my patience with it.

I am also losing my patience with reading. It used to be that I could finish a book that I wasn't too crazy about, in hopes that it would improve at some point. I wouldn't want to miss its redeeming qualities. Now, if I read 30-70 pages and I'm just not into it, or say a kitten dies for no particular reason, I give up on finishing it. You could say I'm either too tender hearted or entirely too slow of a reader.

I want every book to be the Hunger Games, fast paced, hard to put down, with characters I like. So many books keep trying to make me swallow these exaggerated and irritating versions of human beings that I can't go along with the farce.

However, I should mention, that I don't even know if I would be able to read my favorite authors right now. I'm not sure if I should blame it on the funk or if it's just how I am now that I have a baby. Who knows.

So, today JG and I will venture out of the house (which we haven't been doing much of) and go look at fabric or something. Fabric has so many redeeming qualities.

The sad thing is I have a stash of fabric I've been hoarding... and I cannot bring myself to actually use it. It's a terrible compulsion. I even have a bunch of it laying out in my craft room, I just love looking at it, but just thinking about using any of it brings on a slight anxiety attack.

Which is pathetic. This is also the reason I try not to allow myself go look at fabric. For example, I have several prints that I own multiple yards of (2-6 yards), and I can't think of why I spent the money on all of it if I can't bring myself to actually use it.

Booger.

Okay, I better find a reason to pull out of this mess.

I use far too many commas. Lucky for me if you didn't notice.

2010

2010-01-02T16:29:00.000-07:00

So far the year started off with a bang.

Alex and I went to bed at 9:30 Thursday night (seriously) but the dog was gracious enough to wake me at midnight so I could hear my neighbors celebrating with fireworks. Even better, JG slept through the night in her very own crib and did not wake up until 8 AM the next morning, or if she did wake up earlier I don't know, because when I found her she was quietly playing in her crib.

Thanks be to Jesus.

However, she had to sleep with me last night, as she completely refused to be transferred to her crib. You see, I nurse her to sleep in my bed and then move her to the crib before we go to bed. This worked like a charm for months, however in the last month she has been more and more unwilling to sleep in her crib.

I should also mention that I am not good about letting her "cry it out." It doesn't help that I don't believe in it, but I know that if I enforced the crib a bit better she would probably spend more time in it. However, like Thursday night, she will sleep the whole night in the crib, so I think that she's been sleeping with us because she hasn't been feeling well.

Who knows. Does anybody have any suggestions?

Anyway, 2010. Goals.

--I need to figure out a way of getting out of the house without spending money. Every time I leave the balance on my credit card increases, which is not good for a girl with no job and no income. Hopefully the weather will start to improve and JG and I can think of something creative to do outdoors.

--I'm thinking of putting together a class on doll making. I have no idea how that would work. I've been pondering it for months. Like, where would I start? With the pattern? Or have pieces sewn up and ready to stuff? Or, let people design their own doll pattern with my help?

Also, I've been doing this for about six years, so does that make me knowledgeable enough to teach it?

--Find a teaching job for Fall 2010.

I think that's it... other than my obsession with how much cheese I will eat this next summer. And ice cream, cake, doughnuts... anything I have not been able to eat for the last six months. In five months JG will either be weaned or her protein-induced weirdness will have resolved itself.

Oh, sweet Jesus, thinking about cheese makes my mouth water.

And, happy new year to all you people. Have a good one.

Not Allergies

2009-12-30T09:53:00.001-07:00

After JG's doctor suggested it I made an appointment with an allergy specialist about a month ago and had been dreading it. When I had my skin prick test at 14 (imagine lying face down on a table while they poke your back 100 times with pins and possible allergens to see how you react) it sucked. But I made the appointment for JG after she screamed for three days after I ate some almond poppyseed muffins, which may or may not have been the offender.

My mom and sister both insisted we not go, fearing the skin prick test and how horrible it can be. But all I could think about was my screaming baby and how wearing it is to try and deal with her when she's like that. I had to know what was wrong and exactly what I had to avoid.

Thankfully the allergist was very nice and immediately knew what was going on with JG - it's not allergies, it's protein-induced proctitis. Basically, her colon has a high intolerance/sensitivity to cow's milk and soy proteins. He said that about half of nursing mothers dump their protein into their milk while the other half don't, and it's common for babies with protein-induced proctitis to suffer from malnutrition -- at this point he looks at JG with her shirt off and says, "Obviously that is a problem she doesn't have."

She's a bit chunky.

Everything I eat goes into my milk.

Then they did the skin-prick test to verify is initial diagnosis. When the doctor and nurse said that a lot of babies don't usually mind being poked Alex and I looked at each other and almost rolled our eyes, thinking, "They haven't met our child."

Alex held her and, amazingly, she didn't cry at all. She gave the nurse a crusty look, but was otherwise calm and held on to her dad.

And behold, she is not allergic to anything they tested for. Not milk, not almonds, not grass, nothing.

However, the allergist suggested I avoid soy products as well. I love soy sauce. Booger.

The good news is that most babies outgrow this type proctitis anywhere between nine and twelve months. She's seven-and-a-half months now, so it is possible that in the next two months she could outgrow this... But I'm willing to bet she'll have it for the full twelve months. Which is fine.

I just look forward to eating whatever I want next summer and putting on twenty pounds. Seriously. I weigh about 105 right now and I am freezing all of the time.

I have no ass. My pants don't fit. But still my boobs are big enough that my old shirts don't fit either.

Joy.

Failure & Success

2009-12-20T21:25:00.003-07:00

Sewing Failure:

And sewing success:

Making a pattern for a doll is ten times easier than making the pattern for the doll's clothes. I find it to be a very frustrating process, but I am slowly learning how it works. Of course, it helps if I add the extra quarter inch into the pattern itself (second set of pictures) rather than trusting myself to do it myself later with the material (first set of pictures)...

Hey, I'm learning dammit. Also, working with knit is sort of a pain in the butt, however the dress/slip looks nice and hangs well. And it fits her without being overly big or too too small.

Random note: this is what my mornings look like:

Baby Farts

2009-12-17T14:52:00.000-07:00

You know, I never stopped to think how difficult it must be to be a baby. To have to learn to sit and roll and use your mouth to make sounds.

Or how to get your guts to get rid of that damnable gas that keeps creeping in to your belly.

The best part about this gas is that it attacks in the middle of the night, and it wakes JG up every time. She can't fart whilst sleeping, no. She must cry and wake me up so I can hold her, then she farts. Like an adult. Loud and lately stinky.

It doesn't matter if she's sleeping in her crib or in my bed, if she's gassy she's awake, which means I'm awake too.

I'm tired.

At what point in life do we start to deal with gas as if it was nothing? I know for me, growing up in a house where the word "fart" was never uttered let alone released, that maybe I didn't deal with it until I was in college sometime.

But I know at some point I stopped waking my mother up to share my gassy morsels with her...

Right?

Maybe it's just JG's way of letting me and Alex know that she really is OUR daughter.

Just Curious...

2009-12-12T21:15:00.000-07:00

So...

Tiger Woods is a cheater, which I honestly have to say I am not that surprised about.

Think about it, if you were the most popular man on earth, and you could have or do anything you wanted, what would you do?

Okay, maybe your answer is not to cheat on your hot model wife, but hey, everyone to their own taste.

The only thing I am surprised about, appalled really, is his taste in women (other than his hot model wife). I mean, if you're going to go outside of your marriage for, whatever it was he went for, wouldn't you go for the other hot models? Or other beautiful women?

Not the trashy, bleached her own hair, has face piercings, looks like a hooker but isn't? I mean, at least a high paid escort will keep your secrets, and is probably ten-times more attractive than the dozen or so ladies he stepped out on his wife with.

Wait, not ladies... lady is a word reserved for a woman of high-class, who is thoughtful enough not to sleep with another woman's husband. Tiger did not cheat on his wife with ladies, he cheated on his wife with what looks to me like... well, trash.

What an idiot. Even worse though, an idiot with bad taste.

Production

2009-12-11T12:06:00.000-07:00

I have spent the last two weeks preparing for the Sisters & Friends Boutique (you'll find the address there) my mom is holding at her house in Ogden. This means I've been making toys like crazy... or, you know, more quickly than I usually do.

Because it normally takes me two weeks to make one thing.

So, please awe in amazement that I made nine, COUNT THEM, nine toys for this boutique. I know, I am amazing...

Or I just started to have fun making monsters:

These adorable little creatures are available for a $20 adoption fee, which will go toward paying off student loans.

When asked about their future homes, most monsters said, "Please, just get me away from that crazy baby. She keeps shaking her head and grinning at me..."

I also have two dolls, but I'm trying to figure out their faces: I think I'm going to have to unpick them and try something else.

They just don't evoke that "ahhhhh, cute" that I was hoping for.

Eh, try, try again.

Also, one last selling point. If you're still searching for a special gift, and you would like to try and pawn off somebody else's creation as your own, feel free to do so with my toys!

I won't tell a soul.

Quandary

2009-12-09T09:54:00.001-07:00

JG is wearing her last diaper.

There are no more diapers in the house.

She just pooped a gallon in her last diaper.

We only have about 20-30 minutes before her morning nap.

Quandary: Do I run to Costco now to get diapers and bread and such

OR

do I let her sit in a gallon of poo over her nap?

Hmmm.

SOLUTION:

We had to run to Costco. JG was basically wearing a cup-full of poop (in her last diaper) and I would feel so guilty if I left her in that thing for two hours to find a very red bottom at the end of it.

Diaper rash is the worst. So, a quick trip through my lovely Costco where I received many strange glances as we raced through the isles. It was great fun...

Messy Eater

2009-12-04T18:28:00.000-07:00

I know, she's cute, what do I have to complain about?

Transitions

2009-12-02T19:31:00.001-07:00

Babies.

Babies are interesting beings.

They are constantly evolving and becoming something new. Who they were a week ago is not who they are today.

At least, this is what I'm learning from JG. Just when I think I have her figured out, she flips like a coin and she's someone I haven't met before. Which is REALLY frustrating.

I am a creature of status quo, and love and expect things to stay the same. I know how to deal with sameness. And I know having these sorts of expectations for a baby is just setting myself up for failure.

BELIEVE ME, I KNOW.

For those times when I am tearing my hair out and on the verge of collapsing to my knees and submersing my head in bleach, I call my parents.

Thank Jesus they live close.

The amount of sanity I still have left in my head can be attributed to my mother and father.

Thanks you guys. REALLY.

And to think, this is what makes my life difficult and wonderful all at the same time!

Making some dolls

2009-11-26T12:01:00.000-07:00

I've been making some crafty progress. I thought I would demonstrate to my IMMENSE audience that I am doing stuff... when JG is napping, at least.

I think getting this far has taken me 6 weeks. Embroidering the faces takes the longest, mainly because I hesitate about colors and what the face should look like. Then I do the same thing with the hair, I want it to look right, so it took me a solid week of placing felt, removing, cutting, twisting, and then going with my original idea.

I am a seriously slow creative person, especially when I don't have a due date. However, my mom is having a mini craft fair at her house in two weeks, so I've got to sew together a whole lot of toys... I wonder how quickly I can do that? I'll post more about that in a little while.

See how excited I am to have them finished? Now all I have to do is take weeks to make them underpants and dressess... well, that took me a year with the first one. So, I guess you'll just have to wait and see how quickly (or, in reality, slowly like frozen molasses) I can get these suckers completed.

New Moon Review

2009-11-21T19:19:00.000-07:00

*Spoiler Alert -- if you haven't seen the movie and don't want to know anything about it, then don't read this*

First of all, thank you to those fine ladies who gave an afternoon of their time to a lonely and fast-talking stay-at-home-mom. I really appreciate it and I had a blast. Movies are made all the better when there is someone giggling beside you.

Now to the movie.

I was not as disappointed as I thought I would be. However, I just have to say that I am utterly confused about the whole basis of the movie -- Edward and Bella's "love" for each other. Why do they love each other? All they do is whine about it, and what do they do other than fly through trees and make kissing look painful? (Seriously, each time they kiss it's like they are either going to jump into bed right there, or they are going to die because of the immense electrocuting pain that must transmit through their lips. Ouch.)

I do like Jacob though, I guess if I knew I had to take a side it would be his... until he starts to whine about his love for Bella. Why are these guys so possessive of her anyway? Jacob is sarcastic, cute, cut, funny, and easy going, which is a nice break from Edward's being... so pale faced and... brooding? I mean, if I had to point at somebody and tag them as Emo, it would be Edward.

Also, when Bella and Jacob are riding motorcycles and she stupidly runs herself into a boulder, why doesn't he give her a helmet and teach her how to ride rather than saying, "No more motorcycles, it's too dangerous."

It drives me nuts how helpless she is, and how this somehow makes her more desirable to vampires and werewolves. She's breakable! And a total klutz! She bleeds a lot! I love her!

However, New Moon compared to Twilight was enjoyable and I didn't rudely break out in laughter more than once... or twice? I appreciate the director making Jacob be shirtless the majority of the film, but Edward needs to keep his shirt on (vampire pastiness is not a good thing).

All in all, I'm glad I went. I enjoyed myself. Jen and I think we should get together more often (ladies?).

Okay, I'm beat. Going to bed now... or to watch a lot of bad tv. Whatever.

If you thought your day was bad...

2009-11-18T19:41:00.000-07:00

Were you pooped on?

JG set me up today. I thought she had a loaded diaper, but it was just a dirty fart. So I removed the diaper, cleaned her off.

Now, when she's on the table she likes to grab her feet and eat her socks, which angles her bottom up, and makes her appear to be adorable.

While reaching under her changing table for a new diaper, that's when she let loose a fountain of feces that arced up into the air and splattered on the towel. She rested a second and then dirty farted, spraying my shirt with poop.

My child pooped on me.

The best part is that wasn't the end of it, she was merely reloading. The next squirt missed the towel entirely and hit the edge to the table (thank Jesus there's a lip there, or I would of had poop EVERYWHERE).

The worst part is I am still wearing the poop covered shirt. I looked down and realized the shirt was already stained... and just kept wearing it. I know, I am disgusting.

But she's the one who let loose.

Stinky baby.

**Okay, so I emailed people about New Moon, but only got one response (hey Starlynn!), so if you're still interested in joining me (stay-at-home diarrhea-mouthed mom) reply to the email (if you got it) or send a new email... or whatever. We're looking at Saturday, matinee time sometime.

Let them eat cake!

2009-11-12T22:07:00.001-07:00

Ladies and Gentleman, the joy of joys has occurred in my home today.

Wait for it.

I baked a friggin' cake.

Milk free.

Full of delicious. Little tasty blueberries floating gaily through the fluffy sponge of vanilla goodness. Covered in frosting. So much happiness generated on my tongue in one sitting.

Seriously, folks, I am a cake person and it has been killing me to go without. Chocolate is one thing, it gives me heartburn anyway, so I can forgo that without much of a problem. But cake? No.

No. No. No.

The best part is that I found the mix at Albertson's. I kept thinking I was going to have to go on some long journey full of adventure and intrigue to find a milk-free cake mix, since that is what the internet kept implying. Stupid, sly internet, full of the $7 cake mixes that are "guaranteed allergen free" (meaning no eggs, milk, sometimes wheat or gluten). Implying it's impossible to find elsewhere.

Lucky for me I was on the phone with Mindy (hey Min!) and decided to take the time to check every box of cake mix. (Seriously, every box.) And, lo and behold! Duncan Heines is milk free. The only allergen in it is "wheat." I swear they know there are people like me, dying for cake and too damned lazy to make one myself.

(Side note: I love baking. Cookies. Cakes. Stuff. But the thought of blaspheming... attempting to make a milk free cake on my own sounded fruitless and aggravating. I'm an angry person anyway, but to go through the trouble of pouring ingredients in a bowl, mixing them together, and baking it only to have it come out tasting like vomit could send me over the edge... to giving up on cake.)

Cake! Much deserved after a day when JG only wanted to nap an hour total. I can't hold it against her though, she's teething or something.

Cake! (currently digesting in my belly)

Socially Incompetent

2009-11-08T22:09:00.002-07:00

Ugh.

Who would have thought interacting with others is a skill? One, if not practiced on a regular basis, that will grow stale and rot. Seriously.

This last Saturday Alex and I were social people -- which is a feat for us. We've spent many recent weekends sitting in our basement watching TV. Mainly old shows from the 70's, sci-fi, and fantasy stuff. Oh, man, the time we have spent in our basement. Poor JG, she hates being in the basement, and we're lazy enough to put up with her hating it.

Good thing she naps for two hour chunks on the weekends. How else could we so thoroughly waste our time?

Anyway.

Instead of being hermits this last weekend, we actually ventured out from our dark, comfortable cave, and broke bread with other people.

This is when I should mention, if you have forgotten, that I am a stay-at-home mother. I spend all of my time with a baby, who luckily for me is growing into a happy, smiling booger. (A 300% improvement over the screaming, crying thing she was for months.)

Now, spending all of this time with a tiny human who doesn't talk, who giggles when I gnaw on her belly, and expects me to carry her everywhere, has changed me. It has made me socially incompetent.

This does not translate well to adult interactions.

I can't go up to friends and gnaw on their belly's... but, it's almost like I have to remind myself of this. In my head I have to think "okay, adults 'talk' about things, think of some sort of conversation starter."

And when I finally do talk, it's like the flood gates have opened and there is nothing I can do about what comes out and the speed at which it travels.

Friends, I am sorry if I talked your ears off, if I made little to no sense, and if it seemed like I was not finishing any of my thoughts. I didn't realize I was doing any of these things until I reflected on it later.

Oh, man, I am so socially incompetent. I can't even relax when I'm in the company of other people (husband doesn't count). Like any other talent, being social is something that needs to be flexed regularity.

I am so out of practice.

Good thing New Moon is coming out soon. I have plans! With people! (We should probably figure out what time and place and stuff...)

Also, I'm thinking a crafting/sewing night or something would be cool. Anybody up for that? At my house?

However, I am warning you now. I will talk your ear off. You may leave thinking, "Who is that strange woman who couldn't edit anything before she spoke? Who thinks poo is funny?"

Oh, yeah, that's me...

Fat Head

2009-10-28T18:38:00.000-07:00

See? JG sort of has a fat head. It's an adorable fat head, especially with that hat her grandma made, but a fat head non-the-less.

I have been working on creative things... I'm just not very good at taking any pictures of my progress. I'm in the process of making two new dolls and have a few "monsters" lying around. This is my doodle of what I wanted it to look like:

And this is how it turned out:

He has a furry brown back and a fleece body and arms with felt "detailing." His legs stick out kind of funny, but that's what you get the first time you make something.

I think it's kind of cute. I'm working on the revision.

I don't think Maelly cares.

Cats in Ceilings

2009-10-25T19:34:00.006-07:00

This last week I seriously started to question why I am the parent of two cats. Two injured, somewhat retarded cats.

As you know, Mael is diseased. And I was starting to feel pretty confident about his foot healing, up until he figured out how to move the cone so he could reach said food and lick it. With his sandpaper tongue. Which means it's taking forever for it to heal because he won't leave it alone.

Nevertheless, I was okay dealing with his foot.

Then, a chunk of fur fell off his rear right leg and revealed a new inflamed spot.

Effing cat.

To make kitty matters that much more interesting, Opal (who was loving and cuddly before the baby came, and is now hesitant and distant mixed with "You must hold me NOW") was in a fight (read attacked) with some tomcat and has two bites above her tail on her rear. They ooze. And the battle must have been quite the thing, because all the hair surrounding the bites is gone, like she was shaved.

So not just one injured cat, two. I keep looking at Stella and waiting for her to come up with something new (please dog, just don't).

And when Opal is sick or feels gross she prefers to hide. She spent a couple days in the cabinet with my baking pans. Another day with the towels (admittedly, she was accidentally closed in with them, so she couldn't have gone anywhere else if she wanted to). She also hid in JG's wardrobe, but that seems to be a kitty favorite.

Then, she found what to her must have been the celestial door to our basement ceiling (it's this weird opening at the back of our lazy-susan in the kitchen that gives her direct access). I wonder if she hears angels sing when that happens? The best part about her finding her way into the ceiling is that she really doesn't know how to get out. So I can be sitting there checking email or sewing, and hear her scratching, or meowing, from the heavens (read ceiling).

Whenever this happens (yes, this was not the first time) Alex starts to lament how she'll probably die up there and then we'll have to deal with the smell, and how will we find her corpse (by stink, I'm assuming) and blah, blah, blah.

She was in the ceiling for 48 hours.

Then Alex got the carpet knife (razor blade with a handle) out. Thank Jesus we have our awesome 70's acoustic tile ceiling, because it made it that much easier for him to cut out tiles (3), find her, and drag her out by the scruff.

Let me tell you, ceilings are dirty places, and she was one dusty kitty.

And my loving husband was very close to killing her. As was I. Doesn't she know I only have enough emotional real estate for ONE sick animal?

The best part? She got into another part of the ceiling the next morning.

Even better? Alex didn't have to cut anything to get to her.

Oh, man, I'm not sure I'm ever owning another cat.

I stink

2009-10-21T09:26:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had one of those moments where you realize you forgot something? Something that allows you to safely interact with the rest of the human population?

Like, say, deodorant?

Because, oh man, I woke up to get JG last night and when I laid down with her I was like, "What is that stink?" And the embarrassing thing is that it was ME (of course, this is four in the morning, so it's not like anybody else was smelling me... well, except for my infant, but she didn't complain).

I am one of those people who has to apply a smell shield every day, otherwise it's just dangerous to be around me. Even with cutting out the dairy in my diet, I still stink.

At four a.m. it took me a moment to realize what was going on, and I had a flash back to me getting out of the shower and hearing the shrill screams of an upset baby up from her nap. I always pause when I hear her cry when she's napping, because sometimes she'll calm herself down and go back to sleep. However, this time she was angry, and once this child is angry she demands to be comforted, or she'll will throw herself into such a fit that her whole body shakes and she gets angry rashes on her face.

And the cry that accompanies this fit is something no living person should have to be in the same house with.

So in lieu of following my usual routine, I had to go calm JG down, and she was not happy when I had to put her down for two minutes to put clothes on.

Which means that at four in the morning I woke to my own stench.

And I'm really hoping she'll be in for a nap soon, because, oh man, I really need a shower.

New Moon invitation?

2009-10-19T10:02:00.002-07:00

This may sound strange, seeing as how I never got through the Twilight book (mainly because I can't stand listening to a teenage girl whine, and it is NOT romantic for a boy to sneak in your room and watch you sleep -- that's called stalking and is EXTREMELY creepy) but I want to go see New Moon.

Mainly because I had a good time at Twilight. And, yes, I did burst out in laughter multiple times, but luckily the girls (women, really) I was with weren't bothered by it. If anything, they shared the moment when the vampire "dad" (can't remember his name...) walked out and looked like a talcum powder covered corpse who wasn't old enough to buy alcohol let alone practice medicine.

So, this is an open invite to those interested in going to see New Moon with me this **weekend (or whatever works). I can't promise not to giggle or make fun of the movie afterwards. But if you can find it in your heart to help a mother out, one in desperate need of spending time with adults, then I will be truly grateful.

Thank you.

Sincerely yours,
PoetsHead

**EDIT: As Jessica so correctly pointed out, this movie doesn't actually come out until Nov. 20. My offer still stands, even if it is a month away.
(If you are interested leave a comment or email me if you have the address. And if it helps to persuade you, I'll sneak some candy into the movie.)

A squid at my child and all I got was this picture

2009-10-14T21:00:00.000-07:00

Five months ago I had this thing, this baby, and went from being clueless about babies to absolutely confused.

Whoever tells you that babies don't cry loudly... just tell them that you know better. My child cries so well that her doctor says that she's "very opinionated."

She really doesn't hesitate to let you know if you're doing something she doesn't like. And then, for no apparent reason, she laughs at the dog for ten minutes.

A dog who is doing nothing but sitting there. Seriously.

She also finds the cone-cat very funny.

So, to mark her five-month birthday I am attempting to boot her out of her cradle in our room -- because she is much too large for it -- and finally putting her into her crib in her own room. I predict that I will not be getting much sleep tonight, but the transition has to happen sometime. Especially since she seems to try to move in her cradle, but she can't because she's so large in it, so she wakes up, which wakes me up, and now she's spending the majority of the night with me.

I need some sleep on my own man.

Like, now.

Blue Ribbon MOTHER-LOVERS!

2009-10-07T18:40:00.005-07:00

Put that in your pipe and smoke it! Yeah! (If you squint past my grinning mug to the chicken with the blue ribbon dangling from his hand, that's what I'm all up in your grill about.)

This week has been interesting.

My cat (the one who is still available if you'd like to purchase him) is in his third week of wearing a cone on his head. Said cone was necessary because he would NOT stop licking his damned maimed foot. So not only have I been caring for JGR, I've also been nursing a sick cat back to health... which is not fun. I have stories... but, I won't share them out of fear of seriously grossing out my small pool of readers.

By the by, my cat has eosinophilic granulomas (warning, the pictures are gross, and he has had this in his mouth, paws, and neck), which requires steroid injections and guarantee's that he will eventually have diabetes. Awesome.

JGR has been refusing naps and bedtime, and screams/cries like crazy when I try to get her to sleep. Joy. It's times like these when I think of how naive high school girls are when they pursue pregnancy in hopes of bearing a bubbly happy baby. (Hey, this happened at my high school.)

Let me tell you, high school girl, do not do it. Babies are freakin' hard, and I've had to push all thoughts of dropping said baby, or throwing said baby, or doing anything un-motherly to said baby out of my head.

I don't want to go to prison.

So it's times like these when I thank the G-O-D that I live near both sets of grandparents and I can pawn her off on them. Er, I mean, have them care for her when I am unable.

She's going through a transition where certain things I'm used to working with her are no longer working. (I have to admit that when I say "things" I mean "boobs," and while they can be one of the last things I turn to, when my boobs don't work, I'm clueless as to how to help sooth her.) So, in hopes of figuring out what the (hell) is going on, we gave her some rice cereal tonight. She'll be five-months-old next week, and she seems to be hungry after I feed her, so why not?

And you know what? Fell asleep like a charm tonight. Cried a bit, but nothing compared to the last few nights.

Now I leave you with some kitty abuse. I don't know how he lives with himself.

These two make me exhausted. I'm going to bed.

Mommy Blogger

2009-10-02T16:02:00.004-07:00

Let me start by saying I never intended to be a "mommy blogger." However, looking back, it was bound to happen. I had a freakin' baby, after all.

I'm just hoping that I don't come across as the "look at my perfect life, my perfect baby, don't you just wish you were me?" kind of mommy blogger. Reading those kinds of blogs turn my stomach, especially because I don't believe in perfect.

Which makes what I'm about to say sound a bit hypocritical.

A while back we were given a gift certificate for the services of a professional photographer. Not only am I excited, I am nervous as hell. I've only had professional photos once, for my high school senior pictures, but I didn't end up with any of them (it's a dull story). Even my wedding photo's were taken by my brother-in-law (who did an excellent job and I love all of them, and I am convinced he took way better photo's than a professional would have).

I am hoping to end up with photographs that make me look good - because, honestly, I never like the way I look in pictures. I'm too pasty, my nose is too long, my smile looks like a midget just bit me in the ass.

Never in my life have I fretted so much about "outfits" and color and how I will appear. Looking through the pictures this professional takes... so many of the families exude the "look at how perfect we are" aura that I hate so much. And in the last week I found myself straining to be like that, trying to find the colors and outfits that would make us look different -- other.

Then it hit me tonight when Alex said, "We don't have to look more than we are, we just need to look like us."

And you know what? That smashing navy blue top I bought, that is beautiful and feminine and makes me look pretty curvy? That's not me. It's almost professional me (teacher me), but not me. And it doesn't look good with any of my jeans, which I plan on wearing for the pictures.

Plus we'll be outside (in Millcreek Canyon, because studios look and feel false and stodgy to me), and there's no way that top will keep me warm enough to make it worth it.

So I'm going to wear a green sweater my husband compared to something you'd find at the Army/Navy surplus. I like it, I'm comfortable in it, and it will show me for who I am. I will also probably wear my orange bowling shoes. Just for a flash of color.

And I'll take the fancy navy blue shirt back, Alex told me to keep it, but really, when am I going to have a reason to wear it? I've gotten into the habit of wiping JGR's spit-up away with my shirt, and as soon as I have on anything dark it's covered in cat hair. It's an animal owner's (read adoptive parent's) rule, "Thou shalt be covered in the fine hairs your animals produce."

Also, I think I'd rather not feel guilty about buying the lotion I want. So the shirt will be returned.

So the last thing I need to wrap up is what to have JGR wear. We're leaning toward farmer baby (overalls) with a sweater or something warm. Something that says, "I snuggle with a tarantula and a squid." (Hey, this kid has great taste in toys.)

Hopefully we'll get photographs that represent us, not some through-the-looking-glass representation of us.

Because perfect may be nice, but in no way is it fun.

Obligatory JGR Photo

2009-09-29T10:27:00.003-07:00

I was told recently that I had to post more pictures of my fat baby.

This is for you.

My mom knit her that awesome hat.

And just think, her face is actually fatter than that now. Poor fat thing...

My child and my cat. My very patient cat.

2009-09-23T20:32:00.003-07:00

I especially appreciate that instead of running away when she "pets" him (like any smart cat would do), he simply pushes her hands away.

Like, "Woah, there. WOAH."

And yes, she totally cuddles her spit rags.

She's four months old. Whatever fits in her mouth is a go for her.

Cat for sale!

2009-09-16T18:31:00.005-07:00

Cat for sale! One diseased and pallid, neurotic and scaredy cat for sale!

Are you looking for an animal to hide when guests come over, to the point where they doubt his existence?

Would you like a cat who needs to visit the vet at least twice (if not more!) times a year for steroid shots? Why, Jesus even blessed him with some crazy kitty disease that allows some wart-like virus to attack his entire body! It's true folks, his foot swelled to FOUR TIMES the normal size and the hair fell out, making him look like he was dragging around some strange slimy red club with him! How delightful, who wouldn't want a cat with the ability to affect clubness/mutantness? And he won't stop licking it even though it won't heal if he continues?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I ask you how can you not see the value in befriending such an animal?

What's more, my friends open mouthed in the audience, who among you would shun this beautiful beast? He also has the ability to PUKE, that's right, puke, non-stop all over the house!

Couches? Covered! Carpets? Covered! Tabletops? Covered! Bedspread? Covered!

Blankets your child sleeps on? Covered!

Now, folks, it's not that bad, he has a simple allergy to cat food. Meaning, you may have to buy the $50 9 lb bag of rabbit and pea food (meaning it's made from rabbits, and peas), which this gorgeous grey and white animal still pukes up because he won't chew it.

And, one last thing, even though he's sick and wan, the expensive food is helping him feel better! Meaning he wants to be pet ALL THE TIME!

How can you deny such an animal!

Behold, the beast we have available for you to purchase today!

He'll even stay still long enough for your four-month-old to "pet" him. (Meaning she grabs clumps of his hair and pulls a little.) And even turns around so she can even pet the other side.

Wait... maybe I'll keep him.

Progress and Completion

2009-09-14T10:43:00.006-07:00

As promised here are some photo's of what I've been doing crafty-wise. They're not great photo's, but I am pretty pleased with myself regarding the toys themselves.

Here's one Testy-Chicken, the other is on display at the Utah State Fair with a blue ribbon on him. That's right, I said BLUE-FREAKIN'-RIBBON. That means I just won myself three dollars. If you're going to the fair and want to see some of my hand-craftiness, he's in the Zion building sitting on top of Thomas the tank engine. He's blue and buggy. With a blue ribbon...

Anyway, I made these chickens thinking I could get the pattern figured out and make more to sell since I'm at home and penniless now... but they took me forever to make. Not just because I took my sweet time, but also because of all the embroidery. See?

That's called the "chain stitch." So, the price I came up with in my head to charge for one of these buggers is more than any sane person would want to pay, I'm sure. Therefore, I'm thinking I might make the pattern available for purchase. Does that sound interesting to anyone? Anyone interested in making a Testy Chicken?

Okay, and here is the doll I started making...oh, a year ago? I finally figured out a dress pattern (bigger than I thought it would be, but still in the shape of a dress) and feel like I'm making progress on making her look complete. What do you think?

(I really need better photo's, she looks really washed out here and... well, not as neat as I think she is. Maybe having a colorful dress on her will help.)

Oh, yeah, did I mention I'm a blue ribbon winner?

The Poop

2009-09-09T18:36:00.003-07:00

It sneaks up and attacks you... or, er, JGR.

Having not spent too much of my life around babies up until four months ago the "blow out" diaper is something new for me. I had heard stories, about the nastiness, the copious amounts, the stains.

However, it is not until you have experienced such things yourself that the gravity of the "blow out" presents itself.

Case in point:

You would think that poo would be uni-directional, but you would be wrong.

Observe her onesie, you see that strange orange spot near her little hand?

Poop.

It went up BOTH directions, FRONT and BACK.

Doesn't she look so sweet whilst staining herself?

I let Alex clean up this one, which took three wipees to clean up. There was so much poo that the diaper was barely able to contain its nastiness, or, as you see, failed to contain it.

And that stuff stains like crazy... and I'm just lazy enough to not put the time into scrubbing the poo stains away. Alex has a technique that works, but I don't know what it is.

I keep telling her to not create so much poop, but she's not a very good listener.

Great pooper, good crier and eater, but not a good listener.

Babies.

A Summerfull of Events

2009-09-07T20:13:00.002-07:00

It's so weird September is here. In May I kept thinking it would be a miracle if I made it through the summer, with all the newness I was encountering then.

Now it's freaking September.

I'm going to be boastful for a moment and say Holy Shit I accomplished a lot in the last (almost) four months:

1. Got my masters degree. Now, I want to note here that the only reason I have a masters degree is because I didn't know I wanted to be a teacher until a couple years ago, and had I known this way back when I was getting my undergrad degree in Communication, I would have gone into education.

However, I will admit that I benefit from having worked in an office. After working with teachers who didn't see the point of having technology in the classroom (what!?) I feel like my perspective is more rounded for my future students...

Whenever I get a teaching job. I guess only 30% of my grad class got jobs. Eh.

2. Gave birth. Mostly natural. I had two doses of Phentynol, a sweet-sweet opiate that helped me relax (which was huge, since I practically had a panic attack with every contraction - mainly hyperventilating) but did hardly anything for the pain. Also, once the pushing began, all drugs had worn off.

The entire process was exhausting, and I was only in labor for 12 hours. I have friends who were in labor for 24 hours.

3. Had anemia. Which SUCKED. I lost so much blood in labor (it happened afterward, with freakishly large blood clots... you don't want to know more than that) that I was given a choice - have blood transfusion or suck it up for six weeks. The idea of a transfusion made my skin crawl, so I spent six weeks shuffling around my house.

Seriously.

I would plan trips for going upstairs, carried iced water around with me like it was a warm blanket, had would have to rest mid-shower. Luckily, when babies are tiny they sleep a lot, so JGR wasn't too demanding during this time.

I hope to never have anemia again. It felt like being a 90-year-old epileptic lady who had to strap herself to a walker to get anywhere, and then had to ask for help CONSTANTLY. And was grumpy about it. And had to wear diapers.

4. Became a stay-at-home mom... for now. I used to think this would be the worst possible thing that could happen. Babies are so boring. I don't understand babies.

Luckily, I was blessed (my favorite baby book always says "blessed" when referring to a fussy baby) with a baby who is demanding, confusing, and un-freaking-predictable.

I realized a while ago that had we been given an "easy/good" baby I would be bored out of my mind.

5. Finished the Testy Chickens! I'll post pictures soon, but it will only be of one, since I entered the other into the Utah State Fair. If you happen by there you might be able to see it in the Zion building, with the other sewing stuff.

I was quite proud of myself.

Now I'm tired. Must to bed.

I've never laughed so hard

2009-09-02T20:42:00.002-07:00

Just the product I've been waiting for...

Radio Lab is

2009-08-31T21:16:00.003-07:00

Awesome. Listen to ALL them here.

I especially like the one on sperm. Don't think nasty, think opportunity and increased genetic spread. Something like that.

Also, the one on After Life is really very good, along with all the shorter story's after it. I am a tad obsessed with death (and zombies) and appreciated the look into what may or may not be there after we die. This one seemed less to do with science and more to do with hypothetical possibilities, but it still made me think.

Which is why I like listening to them so much.

Huh

2009-08-28T14:22:00.001-07:00

There is nothing like putting a fresh diaper on JGR just to have her poop in it two minutes later.

This has been happening all day.

Swear to Jesus this kid never stops pooping sometimes.

I am an Addict

2009-08-26T19:25:00.003-07:00

Of FOOD.

We went to Carl's Jr. the other day and I got the new Teryaki Six Dollar Burger. Now, in years and months past I would eat about 3/4 of this behemoth and feel sick for an hour or so.

Not so anymore. I ate the whole thing, along with some of Alex's french fries, then I was hungry for more. Yes, I ate the Six Dollar Burger, and then thought of what else might fit into my gullet.

I think I drank grape juice when we got home...

Never in my life has eating to painful bloating felt so good. This is how I know it's an addiction. Also, I get really cranky if I haven't eaten in a while.

And I am fiercely protective of my food. I used to be a sharer, but now if someone looks at my plate sideways I practically growl and tell them to find their own food.

It's true, you can totally ask Alex.

I'm assuming I am like this because I am supposed to eat an extra 500 calories a day to nurse JGR. Now, since I've had to cut milk products entirely from my diet, I've had to be creative about extra calories... okay, creative for ME. Usually I am a cheese fiend, but having to cut that out has taken away one of the easiest ways to add extra calories, so I find myself adding fried eggs to things.

Like the roast beef sandwich I ate yesterday. It was delicious.

I've been drinking a lot of juice too, the 100% version though, not any of that "added suger" B.S. Seriously, why add sugar to an already sugary substance?

Back on point, we had barbeque pulled-pork sandwich's tonight and I ate two. With a glass of grape juice. I'm pretty full, but it feels like I could stuff something else in there.

I'm thinking I'll have a popsicle, or an apple. I would have ice-cream, but thanks to the offspring that's off menu.

Why I love blogging

2009-08-23T19:24:00.002-07:00

It allows me to be lazy. I love that I can write an entry and people I talk to on a regular basis will read it, making it so that I will not have to relate the same story over and over again (which I hate doing, especially because the story seems less and less genuine every time I tell it).

This allows conversations to either be efficient, or help them along so we can discuss other details. I love that.

And just for the hell of it, here is a picture of me putting JGR in the ocular cavity of an elephants skull.

Firsts

2009-08-14T11:21:00.002-07:00

Now, I know some of you won't find this as amazing as I do (Stephanie), but JGR ROLLED OVER today. It was during our daily tummy time session (I know, doesn't it sound so exciting) and she just rolled over.

Now, for those of you who don't have babies, let me put this into some sort of perspective. Imagine that you've been carrying around a lump of fat for the past three months, and it really doesn't do much except demand that you carry it around. This lump of fat at first glance appears to be cute, but then it continuously fills diapers with feces and pee, spits up (read vomits) cheesy looking stuff on your favorite shirt, and to top it all off cries when you're on your last nerve. (It is a loving last nerve, however...)

So, when this "adorable" lump of fat starts learning how to manage its appendages by grabbing things, pulling said things to her mouth (she did that yesterday) and then ROLLING OVER, maybe you can understand my amazement.

However, when I tried to get her to roll over again, she got angry and demanded to be picked up.

Hey, rolling over the first time is a great feat! Especially for a lump of fat.

Bad Movie

2009-08-12T17:56:00.003-07:00

Have you seen Babylon A.D.? If you haven't, don't, and if you have you may understand a bit of my following rant.

Have you ever spent time watching a movie, and when it ends you realize how much of your valuable time you just wasted? And you can't figure out where the time went? Say, you may feel like you were somehow knocked out by a wet toilet plunger and woke up two hours later smelling and unaware of your location... Thus was my emotion last night after watching Babylon A.D. with Vin Diesel.

Now, when I first saw the promotion for this movie I thought I would like it, it looked sci-fi and action packed. (You can read the synopsis here, however it may not help.) Now, when I watch a movie I expect to understand the plot and be involved... however, in this movie they keep the plot and story line a SECRET. The first half was action packed, focusing on Vinny protecting some girl who is supposedly special, and how they are being chased and shot at by some religious group.

No, it gets better.

Said religious group wants girl because of her SECRET specialness, even though it is revealed that she is miraculously pregnant with twins (she's a virgin) and now the movie jumps twice, once to before she has said babies and tells Vinny she's going to die, and next with Vinny being a father to two babies, who are, for some reason, from two different races.

THEN THE MOVIE ENDS.

NOTHING IS EXPLAINED! It ends without resolving any plot or story issues, and made me want to hit myself over the head with a toilet plunger.

So, if you ever come across this movie on Netflix or in the video store, WALK AWAY.

Or spit on it.

Whichever.

New Plan

2009-08-09T19:59:00.003-07:00

Giving that I spent a year of my life getting a masters degree, and spending enough to purchase a black-market organ in China on said degree, I thought I would be teaching this fall.

However, since the economy sucks and many school districts haven't been able to hire what they need, it looks like I will not be teaching. Bugger. So, for all those loving people who keep asking me about when I'll be getting a job... stop asking, it sort of depresses me. This is mainly because I was really excited to teach, to have a place to go everyday and to feel like I was succeeding at what I wanted to do.

Yet, at the same time I kept trying to think about what I would do with JGR, having to find daycare, how I would pump at work and when, and then how in hell I would deal with going from school stress to home stress (read grading homework and then taking care of baby and house).

So, in reality I'm sort of relieved. I'm still stressed about my mountain of debt, but my loving husband says that we should be good for the next year. Therefore, I will continue being a full-time mom... which, honestly, scares the shit out of me. I don't know what I'm doing, but I figure I'm getting better every day. JGR is getting to be a better baby too, now that I've started to figure out what she's allergic to and cutting it out of my diet.

Oh, man, I miss cookies, but I guess I can miss teaching for a year. At least I get to stay home for a good reason.

Formula + Baby =

2009-08-01T16:51:00.004-07:00

Screaming, and lots of it.

This is what happens when you lapse in giving your baby a bottle and before you know it she's refusing to eat from it. Alex spent half of Saturday spraying formula into her mouth to get her to eat, but thankfully we figured out a trick and by the end of the day she was eating from the bottle.

She wasn't happy about it. Every time I held her she eyed my boobs and tried to nestle in them... but I told her that her guts needed time to heal and as horrible as it was she would have to endure.

Yes, this is the way I speak to my 11-week-old.

Three days of hypoallergenic formula, three days of tired clingy baby, and three days of the most stinky boiled-spinach looking poo you may have ever seen. (I don't know what kind of poo you've seen, I can't make that assumption.) If there was any blood in it there was no way to tell, it was so dark and thick. Nasty. However, it was also three days of a calm JGR because allergens weren't going through and tearing up her guts.

So, now it's Tuesday and I've started an elimination diet to find out what she's allergic to. This means I will only be eating foods on the safe list (foods nobody is allergic to, like rice) and slowly mixing in possible allergens to see how she reacts. I'm pretty sure dairy is on her allergic list, but wheat may be on there too. I will know soon enough.

Now, why go through the trouble? Why not just keep feeding her formula?

Mainly because of the power a boob holds over a baby, and because I missed it like crazy. JGR didn't understand the bottle, and I'm too lazy when it comes to having to make her wait while I mix it up so she can eat. Seriously, bottle/formula feeding is a lot of work and I commend any woman who does it. Sure, my boobs ache and my nipples are raw, but that makes one happy JGR.

(One who refused to get off my boob this morning when I could finally give it to her again. Could you imagine if adults were like this? Oh, wait, they're called men.)

ugh

2009-07-29T20:20:00.004-07:00

I'm sitting here watching "So You Think You Can Dance" thinking, hey, put feathers on anyone's ass and they look pretty hot... or like a chicken. Jeanine looks HOT.

Anyway, this week is turning out to be stressful. My adorable JGR is going through a growth spurt (read SCREAMING ALL THE TIME) and pooping blood. Now, don't picture a horrifying diaper dripping with blood, no. Imagine that you had a bloody nose a couple hours ago and just sneezed into a tissue -- now, mixed in all that snot there happens to be some blood.

All freaking week long. Blood in your two-month-old's diaper is not a good thing. It usually indicates an allergy to something, so I went off everything milk last Saturday. Eliminating food after that pretty much takes care of everything in my diet. So I haven't been eating very well. Which isn't helping.

We went to the doctor today and he pretty much said it could be anything, and if she doesn't stop pooping blood in the next couple of days I have to feed her this super stinky hypoallergenic formula (hey, at the affordable price of $140 a 4 pack!) for three days to see if the blood stops. JGR has never had formula and has recently refused the bottle. Joy.

While we were at the doctors they also took three small vials of blood to see if other things are causing the bloody poo. I had Alex take her in for that, because I can't handle watching people make my child bleed.

I was fine until her unconsolable cries made me cry, and I finally had to get back there to see what was going on. (Okay, so I stood at the desk crying until one of the ladies asked me, "Is that your baby back there?") I witnessed a lady bending over my baby SQUEEZING BLOOD OUT of her heel. THREE VIALS WORTH.

Hell, I would have screamed like crazy too. Damn.

So I'm sitting in my basement watching trashy Fox television trying to calm my nerves about possibly having to feed my child formula -- and having to give up breast feeding. I never thought I would love it so much, but there is something so awesome about having the power to calm my baby with my boob. My boob. If I have to give it up I think I will cry for days.

Hey, look, Brandon actually had chemistry with someone (Kayla). It's so weird because he usually lacks it so badly with the ladies, even though he is such a great dancer.

Ugh.

Family Bed

2009-07-19T20:04:00.005-07:00

Have you ever heard about the "family bed?" It's basically where you have your baby sleep with you. I have a book that tells you not to waste money on a crib and instead buy a king bed to fit all of you... but they don't talk about how the crib I bought at Ikea was less than $200, and a new king bed would run around $800.

Just a note.

Anyway, the family bed. It's true that JGR sleeps better when she's in our bed... but so does the dog, Stella, and our two cats, Maelstrom and Opal. This means there is any combination of things to get stuck between. Alex says that he usually wakes up with me squished up on one side, Maelly at his head, and Stella at his feet.

What? He's a furnace, and if it's a cool night none of us minds the risk of suffocating him if that means we can warm ourselves. Haven't you ever been part of a family before?

So adding JGR to the mix wasn't that hard, and so far the animals have been pretty good about giving her space. The only thing I have to worry about is if she suffocates on my boob, but there isn't much I can do about that. She prefers to bury her face there for "comfort" or something.

Lately she's been waking up screaming because of gas, but sometimes she sleeps in and I'm able to go and make tea and actually eat breakfast before she wakes up (half the time I forget to eat altogether). And when these times happen, this is what she looks like in the mix of all the covers:

Baby Hat

2009-07-16T19:44:00.003-07:00

Alex likes to wear things as hats. He recently added our child to the list.

**by the way, for some strange reason it took me four days to post this- blogger refused to let me post this picture. Blargh.

Hoots*

2009-07-06T20:57:00.004-07:00

Just a note to say that Jen was here for our 4th of July party and confirmed that my boobs are HUGE.

HUGE.

She made a face and literally mouthed the word "Wow."

I know, I've told you all over and over again, but even I was amazed to evoke such a reaction from a woman I have known since I was 13.

Also, my sweet husband, Alex, has taken to calling my nursing bra's "Feeding Harnesses."

Nothing says sexy like a feeding harness.

I know, it's so hot.

(*This is one of my favorite words to describe boobs. I learned it from my sister-in-law Sallee, who is a genius at describing things in funny ways.)

Testy-Chickens

2009-07-03T12:13:00.006-07:00

Okay, so you know how I was complaining about not getting anything done for myself, like crafting? Well, I took a stand this week and made sure to make some progress on the chickens while JGR was napping.

BEHOLD:

Two, Two TESTY CHICKENS!

I decided to make toys for babies, and put a mishmash of fabrics together. I also forced myself to use fabrics that I love and have been too nervous to cut into. It may sound odd to those of you who are not obsessed with material, but when you like to make things one tends to... hoard it.

I had to make a rule for myself regarding fabric: I am not allowed to buy more of it until I freaking use what I have.

Anyway, chickens. I love chickens. It's a sick obsession of mine.

Behold what it may look like when finished (without, you know, all the pins):

And it would have two legs. And possibly wings and a tail, but I'm still deciding how much time to put into these.

In the next post I'll post photos of the doll I was working on forever ago. I finished her months ago... but coming up with clothes has been a frustrating process. Basically, I'm not very good at it and I have little patience to get there.

My mom is helping to teach me how to make clothes, but until then she will be in some state of nakedness.

Frustration

2009-06-27T20:52:00.002-07:00

Have you ever felt like a bottle rocket? All the pressure is building up inside of your head and chest, but there is absolutely nowhere for it to go? And if you could EXPLODE terrible consequences would ensue?

Argh.

After spending another night with my crying/gassy/colicky baby I am beside myself with frustration. Earlier she finally fell asleep on me, and with high hopes of making dinner I put her in her crib. However, three minutes later she was up and crying again... and continued crying until about thirty minutes ago, when I fed her (she screamed the whole time), gave her gas stuff (miracle fluid) and she belched loudly several times -- then she felt better enough to keep eating and fall asleep on my boob.

Transfer to cradle was successful. Thank God.

Anyway, during this fun marathon, Alex and I argued about why she was crying and he left to go for a walk.

Frustrated. You know, I don't make anything anymore. I should have finished those damn chickens for my sister before JGR came because I have no idea when I will be able to sit down again in my sewing room (which is really the office/craft/guest room) and work on my hilarious testi-chickens. Because, I swear to Jesus, they still look like a guys junk, even with beaks.

So. I'm sitting in the dark trying to calm myself down enough to keep reading the new book, "The City and The City," by China Mieville (whom I love freakishly, this being the fifth book of his I've read... and three of those books bordered or surpassed 1,000 pages). It's like an addiction. But I'm currently... shall we say, unable to focus.

Hope all is going well for you (three) readers. I'm going to go curl up in my den and try to read.

Squishy Face

2009-06-23T08:31:00.005-07:00

As babies do not have teeth they happen to have very squishy faces. Now, JGR has a very squishy face -- at all times a squishy face, but we mainly call her angry face the "Squishy Face."

For example, in this picture she was not happy about being in her car seat, therefore she displayed her Squishy Face.

I don't know if it's cruel or not, but I will typically laugh at her when she makes this face. The main reason is that while she is upset/frustrated/bored/gassy her face still maintains an element of "Oh, man, that is one cute toothless face."

It's even better now that she's starting to put on the weight. Her cheeks are getting fatter, so now when she pouts it looks like she REALLY means it. Ah, my little turd bucket.

Ah, Heck

2009-06-11T09:53:00.003-07:00

This mother thing is hard. Just when I think I've got the little bugger figured out she goes and changes everything.

For example, last week she would nap for two to three hours solid. This gave me the opportunity to shower and do laundry, or whatever. However, this week she only wants to nap if she is on me. As long as I'm holding her she's willing to sleep, which means I don't relax. By the time my poor husband gets home I'm so... shall we say "exhausted" that all I want to do is hand her over and eat something.

Because it's very difficult to eat when you're holding a baby.

Also, that last couple of days, after I've managed to grab time to shower, she cries as soon as I'm out. So I rush to get her, feed her, and then she spits up between my gargantuan boobs. Seriously, I cannot emphasize enough how large this things are. And, now, apparently, they are always covered in milk or spit up.

All I can say, for all of those who are contemplating having a baby -- think about how dirty that little thing will make you. It will barf on you, aim its poop at you (I've been hit multiple times), pee on you (she peed on me the other day before we got into the bath tub), and I'm sure there are other substances she's saving for later.

Sure, she looks all innocent, but in reality she's just waiting for the right moment when my guard is down. Take right now -- I put her in her crib because she was NAPPING. Now, I can hear her, she's hanging out.

At least she's doing it quietly.

Ode to a Breastpump

2009-06-03T16:40:00.001-07:00

I love my breastpump. Yes, essentially it is a vacuum that sucks the milk from my boobs, making it a very unromantic thing. However, it provides me with profound relief when it empties the hefty milkbags that dangle from my chest.

Holy crap.

It's also helping me stock up on a milk supply so that I can leave my beautiful daughter with a relative while I go watch a movie (or do anything else) with my husband. That way I can feel un-guilty about enjoying myself when she can still eat.

Lately, when I leave the house, it's like I've started a marathon and I have to race out and race back so that if she starts to fuss because she's hungry she doesn't have to fuss long. It's strange being the food source for another living being... I'm still getting used to it.

This whole mom thing is hard and completely unpredictable. I totally applaud my sister who is doing this with twins and a 5-year-old right now. She doesn't sleep. I'm mean enough that when JG starts to fuss a bit in the middle of the night I check to see if she's serious, then say in my head, "Give me another ten minutes of sleep, then I'll change your poopy diaper/feed you."

It's wrong. I still do it. I love sleep. I also love my breastpump. You try carrying around an extra two pounds or more in your boobs, then maybe you would understand what I'm talking about.

What does?

2009-05-27T11:27:00.007-07:00

A lady look like the day after giving birth?

Please note the array of food and drink surrounding me -- I was starving after JGR was born, but of course they wouldn't let me eat for

quite some time because they didn't want me to be too nauseous. I think they gave me a poor excuse for a sandwich at first, so the next day I pretty much put whatever was around me in my mouth.

Very much like a toddler does.

What does a week-old look like in the sweet outfit her dad chose for her?

Sweet giraffe and sweet dinosaur shorts... and yes, these are the "gender neutral" clothes I bought for Brian before JGR came. To me, gender neutral leans more boy than girl.

And finally, what does JGR look like after pelting her new mother with poo?

If you observe carefully you can see the dark streak in the mesh material and then some on my shorts. Yes, I removed the diaper and she quite literally blasted me with her poo. It got all over and I laughed for about ten minutes, unable to re-diaper her because I was shaking so badly with the giggles.

Babies are sort of gross.

Other than the above events I have been doing practically nothing. The anemia has limited my activity... it's depressing to think that climbing the stairs is a chore, but the doctor reassured me that in six weeks I should have my strength back, and all of my blood should be back to it's usual reserves after six months. Awesome.

Okay, I'm going to go nap or eat food now.

Introducing...

2009-05-18T13:05:00.004-07:00

JGR! I would share her name... but something about that creeps me out to share on the big ol' internets. So, JGR it is for you. On May 14, 2009, a little baby girl (formerly known as Brian "the fetus"), burst through into the world.

My water broke around 4:30 AM and we ambled to the hospital around 6 AM. We had the best nurse at the IMC labor and delivery, Corene, and she helped us get through to the end without an epidural. I did have some narcotics though, and seriously, the mood lifting ability of

narcotics is simply amazing. It made it so I could rest in between contractions and laugh a bit.

Mindy was there to enjoy the fun, along with Alex. Good times were had. More later.

Unhappy Pregnant Lady

2009-05-12T07:09:00.003-07:00

You know all of those women who swoon over being pregnant? The kind who enjoy every moment and never want it to end?

I am not one of those pregnant ladies. Thursday marks my forty weeks and quite frankly I'm done. I'm ready for the labor portion of this experience. I'm ready to have my baby and start figuring out how not to kill him -- in other words, learning how to care for the white pasty grub that will be my child.

I'm tired of strangers, friends, and family telling me what I can and can't do. "Oh! You're pregnant so you really shouldn't lift that heavy thing" or "Gardening is probably not a good idea." Um, dudes, I may be immobile, but I am sure as hell not happy about it.

I am definitely not happy that grass has come up all through my rose garden and garden garden and my body is too awkward to effectively pull any of it. Normally by this time my fingernails would be caked with dirt and my face would be sunburned from all the time spent focusing on my plants. I love my plants. I miss my plants.

So, instead of being in the dirt, I've been making chickens. I will try to post a picture later. The do look less like mens genitals... even though Alex still sees the resemblance. It's one of those things where once you point it out you can never get rid of the picture in your head. Whoops.

Hopefully my "practice contractions" will soon turn into real ones and I can see what sex Brian is. Alex is dying to know. He's also dying for the two weeks off work.

Alright, I'm going to go watch an hour of True Blood on HBO then clean my craft room for Mindy who will be visiting for ten days and sleeping in the midst of all of my material. Awesome.

hehehe

2009-05-06T07:17:00.003-07:00

I'm having a bit of a crappy week. It's connected with my last post... but I felt this comic really emphasized my feeling... and made me laugh out loud. A bit of a warning -- Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal is very funny, but nasty and wrong in all the right ways.

DONE**

2009-05-01T07:36:00.004-07:00

**warning, the following post complains about graduate school--read at your own risk**

You know, it's funny. I thought when I finished my MAT program at Westminster I would be so sorrowful and withdrawn, but after this week I am RELIEVED!

Don't get me too wrong. I learned a lot from the majority of the professors I had. I actually adore most of them as they took the time to teach me and make sure I was understanding the information they were feeding me. Via enema.

But the class they attached to the very end of the program was completely unnecessary and made me a very grumpy student. I thought Westminster encouraged their professors to teach students to think for themselves, but apparently not. Not all of them believe it important for us to have our own personal beliefs or to pursue our own interests.

But, really, it's just one. And that's all the b****ing I will do about that before digging myself a hole.

Seriously, I woke up at two in the morning and could not fall back to sleep because I was so angry about this. You should know, like I stated above, all other professors were pretty awesome and I have zero complaints about them.

Then I had a dream I was giving birth to an elephant and Alex had those plug earrings... I keep having the strangest birthing dreams. I guess that just emphasizes that I am two weeks away from my due date. Now that school is done I'm hoping Brian comes earlier so I can spend more time with him before teaching next year.

Which is me being optimistic, since I don't even have a job set up yet.

Life's Questions

2009-04-29T07:39:00.002-07:00

I'm freaking out a little bit. I have my last Westminster paper to write, a five page behemoth about my "personal journey and development as a teacher from the beginning to the end of the MAT program."

Um, seriously? Is it natural for my school to need to know so much about my feelings and such? This is on top of the journaling and two other papers asking me to talk about how my view of culture has changed, and how I'm so much more of an open minded person now.

I actually talked to a fellow student who sounds like they hate more now. Hate more now after a year of having our students "funds of knowledge" shoved down our throats. Bah.

Anyway, this is the last paper I have to write and then I have to put a portfolio together, which isn't difficult since it's all stuff I've completed.

The problem is... what then? I don't have a job yet, so I get to worry about what I'll be doing next year. Last year all the MAT students had jobs lined up, but with the economy the way it is it looks like my cohort will be waiting a bit longer.

Also, once I'm done with this stuff, what then? I have two weeks until my due date with Brian, and my doctor said yesterday that it's entirely possible that I reach it. What in god's name do I do for TWO WEEKS! I have no job. I am uncomfortable all of the time. I am trying to sew, but my motivation wavers.

At least the house is clean. I will try to keep that up. My best friend Alicia visited over the weekend and Alex and I had to make the house presentable for her -- we had to eliminate many little cat hair tumbleweeds that had started to get aggressive.

So, now, after today is over... what the hell do I do with my life? I guess I just continue to gestate Brian? I have crafty things to finish... I have a couple of chicken bodies that look like men's genitalia.

Okay, I've got to write that paper now. Go on with your life. You're probably doing something so much more productive...

Huh

2009-04-26T12:40:00.003-07:00

There are certain pains ones body experiences that are just not okay. They are especially not okay to talk about in public.

But, oh man, what is with this?

Along with that I have about a day to complete one of my last assignments for grad school... and I just don't really care any more. I'm sort of on the verge of making s*** up. And, yes, I should have had this completed days ago.

But, I am 37 weeks pregnant and my brain no long works. Or cares. I hope it starts up enough again after Brian comes that I can actually function well enough to take care of a baby.

Huh...

tired

2009-04-23T10:57:00.002-07:00

The last couple of days have really, sort of, sucked. I guess I'm experiencing what could be a "false labor." I feel like I've got menstrual cramps that keep radiating through my legs, belly, and back. Oh, and my ass. Everything is sore. You know how your body feels when you've go the flu? That's how mine feels right now.

I'm 37 weeks today, so maybe these will go away, or go on for another week, or Brian will arrive soon.

I guess I should go take a Tylenol. And a hot shower. And eat a baked potato covered in cheese and sour cream. And a coke.

Joy.