2007 Resolutions

• Loose 40 pounds (the obligatory weight loss goal)



• Find things I love to do (i.e. get some hobbies) and do them often.  Ideas: writing, taking pictures, crafts...



• Take Alex out to socialize with other kids once a week at a minimum.



• Get myself out to socialize with other adults once a week at a minimum



• Less TV.  Ideally, Alex and I would limit our daytime TV to 1 hour and as a family, our evening TV time to 2 hours.  Not sure how I'm going to get John on board with this goal. 



• Read one non-kid / non-parenting book per month



• Create and stick to a household budget. 



• Get our front yard into shape (Spring/Summer)



• Spend more time with family (both John's and mine).  Have everyone over for BBQ's, do crafts with mom, call Grandma weekly, have Alex draw pictures for Vince and Raquel, get Alex and Baby Lilly together often (well, after she's born of course)... 

2007 is going to be SO AWESOME!

Sledding

   We took Alex sledding for the first time today.  We ended up having a great time, but our field trip started out a bit rocky.  We didn't have a sled, so we thought we'd just go to the closest store and pick one up.  Boy were we wrong.  Who knew finding a plastic sled in the middle of winter, in Utah would be hard to find?  We started out going to K-mart with no luck, then we went to Walgreen's and Rite Aide, still nothing.  We took a ride out to Walmart where I almost cried after finding plastic snowboards and a foam boogie board but no plastic sleds.  We considered buying everything from a large Frisbee to a storage bin lid.  After wandering around for some time with no luck, we decided we were on a mission.  We would not rest until we had a sled.  We went to Albertsons and Harmon's (where I almost convinced myself that a laundry basket might do the job quite well) and were about to make our way out to Target when John, presumably guided by the sledding gods, pulled into the parking lot of Big 5 Sporting Goods.  We hit the jackpot!  Every kind of sled you could imagine, they had.  From a sledding disk to a toboggan to a blow up snowmobile.  So two hours, seven stores and $25 later we had ourselves a brand new blue two seater complete with a pull cord and brakes.  It was totally worth it too:

Warning label

It should be required to put a warning label on all cans of olives:

"Warning, allowing your child to eat this entire can will produce the most foul smelling feces imaginable."

Alex LOVES him some olives.  Eats 'em like candy, which completely grosses me out.  But I'm trying to be open minded about his food choices since he's such a picky eater, so I give the boy olives.  The other day, he ate an entire can of sliced ripe olives.  For the next two days he was pooping toxic sludge.  The smell is STILL in his room.  I'm thinking of calling in a HAZMAT team. I'm telling you, it's a mutant, toxic smell of death. 

My Precious

My obsession with getting a new fancy-shmancy digital SLR camera has now reached new and quite frightening levels.  I can not walk into Best Buy without making a bee-line to the camera section to fondle the display models.  Yesterday, John and I were out looking for a particular video game he wanted and I ended up getting shooed out of the camera section by a short, plump balding employee after he discovered me with my face pressed against a glass display case and drooling, tracing little hearts on the glass doors with my finger.  God help me if I find myself in a Ritz or Inklies. 

My step-mom-in-law just got a new Nikon D80 for Christmas.  I'm afraid that at our holiday get together next week, I'll pounce on her and steal her camera.  They'll find me hours later, hiding in a closet somewhere stroking the lens and muttering "my precious".

My intense desire for a new camera is odd, considering, I don't even know how to use an SLR camera.  I have an old Canon (film, not digital) in my storage room, and I think I'll pull it out, dust it off and start teaching myself how to use it.  Maybe by the time my penny jar is full enough to take a ride out to Inklies and buy my beloved camera, I will be worthy of it.

Honey

Before I quit my job to stay home with Alex full time, Alex called me "Mama".  I haven't heard the word "Mama" since September.  I rarely refer to myself in the third person when talking to him and John only calls me "Honey", so I suspect the loss of the word "Mama" in Alex's vocabulary is due to the fact that he very rarely hears the word.  I've been kind of sad about this recently, he's picking up more words every week, and I keep wanting my boy to call me something.  Usually when he wants me he lets out an unintelligible yell as if to say "Woman!  Get over here and change my diaper!"  But today, he was cuddling with me on the sofa, I was saying things to him like "I'm your Mama" and "Mama loves you!"  He looked right into my eyes and said "Honey" with a big grin on his face, then hugged me.  Not quite the title I was hoping for from my son, but I'll take it.

A Festivus miracle!

The boy is sound asleep in his room (went down for his nap ON TIME with no screaming, biting, kicking or ripping hair out!) and John is busily steam cleaning our basement carpet while I browse the internet with a cold diet pepsi and wearing my brand new pink fuzzy slippers. 

Five things about Alex

1. He LOVES green beans (YUCK!)



2. He is terrified of the Starship Enterprise (we've been watching Next Gen on DVD)



3. If he comes at you with his mouth open you've got a 50/50 chance he'll either bite you or raspberry you.  Sometimes, he'll do both.



4. He loves watching Teletubbies



5. He loves books.  All day long he's bringing me books to read to him.  If he's not having me read them, he's playing with them.

Still hoping for a Festivus miracle

It's Festivus eve and I'm hoping to wake up tomorrow to a toddler with a full head of fluffy brown hair.  More likely the Festivus hair elves will skip our house and Baldy will be waking me up at 7AM as usual.

John is unofficially starting his holiday vacation today.  Unofficially because he actually has to go back to work on Tuesday for a swing shift, then he's off until January 4th.  Which basically means, call before you come over because John will likely be unshowered, unshaved and undressed.  Roaming the house in his boxers until he has to go back to work.  If history is any indicator, we'll be sick of each other in under a week.  I LOVE my husband, I do, but every couple has a limit of "together time".  Ours is about 5-6 days if we're not alone in a swanky hotel on a tropical island. 7-9 days if we are. 

Anyhow, HAPPY FESTIVUS!  Enjoy your holidays!

Maybe they are horns after all

Alex is learning to perfect the art of a temper tantrum.  If a situation is not to his liking he will instantly drop to his bottom screaming and hit his head on the floor repeatedly.  If he's being held at the time of the offense, he'll raise his arms up in the air and arch his back effectively causing you to loose your hold on him, then begin writhing around until you put him down, where he will of course, drop on his butt and scream while hitting his head on the floor. 

The screaming is not your normal scream either, it's a blood curdling scream you might expect to hear from a child having his arms ripped off of his body.  High pitched and VERY, VERY angry.  In between the high pitched screams is a low rumbling growl, as if he's some kind of attack dog warning an intruder not to come any further.

I figured all of this anger was coming out this week because we've been cooped up in the house due to my being a wimp about going out in the cold, cold snow.  So I took him to the mall to play in the indoor play area with some other kids.  He threw fits all the way there.  I had him in his big puffy coat and hat, which he hates and he spent the entire drive pulling at the hat trying to get it off and screaming the scream of death.  Once we got there, I took off his winter gear and set him loose in the play area.  He played pretty well, but he often escapes and tries to steal things from the store attached to the play area, so several times the other people at the mall got to experience The Alex Tantrum (patent pending) when I had to take away the stolen toy and herd him back to the play area.

"How old is he?" Asked another woman when he was banging his head against the foam floor
"Almost 15 months" I replied
"Oh wow, well, you're in for it when he turns two then"
"You mean it gets worse than this?"
"It probably will."

Great.

We stayed at the play area for about 45 minutes or so and I think it really helped for him to let off some steam and interact with some other kids.  Though it was a bit disconcerting on the way home, Alex was in the back seat playing with a toy light saber and saying "Ebil, ebil, eeeeeeeeeeeeebil"

Demon Alex

Alex has fallen and bumped his head twice this week producing a goosegg on each side of his forehead, making him look like he's growing in a set of horns. 

Housebound and bored, silently shaking my fist and cursing the neighbor children

I want to write about something interesting, I really, really do, but there just isn't anything to write about at the moment.  Alex and I have been housebound for a few days due to the fact that we've got a foot + of snow outside and it's just too damn cold to venture out there for any length of time.  Yesterday I dressed him up in his snowsuit and took him out to play in the snow but the snow comes up to his hips so he can't walk around or anything, so it's just no fun for either of us.

On the topic of snow, there's not much that's more beautiful than the pristine, white blanket of fresh snow covering the front yard.  I go to great lengths not to disturb the front yard snow if I can at all help it because I love the look of it so much.  So very, very much.  But the neighbor kids, presumably on their way to school yesterday, defiled my beautiful perfect front yard snow.  EVEN AFTER I made a point to shovel the sidewalk SPECIFICALLY so they wouldn't have an excuse to run through my yard.  So now, my beautiful white virgin front yard snow has footprints all over it.  Just like kids to ruin the one and only thing I enjoy about winter.  Bastards.

Anyway... We're just waiting for Santa to come. I'm completely done with my holiday shopping and John, who is responsible for all of two gifts this year, is not.  He's got me, which should be easy since I emailed him a link to a pair of slippers I want and said "Buy these in a medium".  And he's got his person from the Dillier Gift Exchange, which I'll probably end up taking care of because, well, I'm the wife, and that's my job.  This weekend I'll be baking goodies to deliver to the neighbors (and their evil virgin snow defiling children).

Baby's first piss on the floor

The other day I was in the middle of changing Alex's diaper when I realized I had to go to the bathroom.  Immediately.  So, I finished wiping all the poop off and brought him to the bathroom with me without putting a new diaper on.  He did what he normally does when he's waiting for me to finish, plays with the toilet paper, empties the box of tampons, steals boxes of dental floss out of the drawers... He had successfully stolen my moisturizer out of the drawer when he started peeing on the floor. He looked down and with a look of utter shock on his face, jumped backward about a foot and stopped peeing.  He'd never seen himself pee before and it scared him!  After he relaxed a few seconds later he began to pee again and this time he watched in amazement, making a little puddle on the floor and laughing.

Five things I'm certain Alex is saying

We've begun to translate Alexese and are pretty sure he is saying the following words:

1. "Daddy"  =  Daddy



2. "No!" and "Nine!" = No (I have no idea why he speaks German)



3. "Ba!" =  Ball or any round object, or object that can be made round by scrunching it up in your hand.  Surprisingly "Ba Ba" seems to mean  Football on TV.



4. "Tee" and sometimes "Tee Tee" =  Kitty



5. "Eye" and "Noos" = Eye and nose, which he helpfully demonstrates by poking your eyeball and sticking his finger in your nostril.

Also pending confirmation are:

• "Doggie"



• "puppy" (why he has two distinct words for dog and we don't even have one is beyond me)



• "Boob"



• "Hey" - which is his version of "hi"

Footloose

Last night John and I attended his company's holiday party, and we had a fabulous time!  We closed down the joint!  We were literally the last two people on the dance floor, and as my husband is so proud of saying "We were the last coats!"  meaning, our coats were the last ones hanging in the coat check when we left.  The party was that fun.

I also discovered where The Boy gets the dance gene.  From his father.  Let me tell you people, my man can DANCE!  John (after several glasses of wine) boogied his heart out to the point where people were handing him their drink tickets as if they were Mardi Gras beads.  For my part, I attempted to dance with him, but my style of dance is limited to step-touch-step-touch with occasional Saturday Night Fever arms thrown in for fun.  John has these elaborate moves that include fully acting out the lyrics in an interpretive dance.  It's difficult to keep up.  He's kind of got a Napoleon Dynamite thing going on where it's totally unexpected that that boy can move!  My only complaint with John's dancing is that when we dance as a couple he never warns me before he intends to twirl me, which last night, often resulted in either my tripping, running into someone else or a scream of surprise when I'm suddenly flung across the dance floor.  I was very proud to have been John's date last night though.  I found myself watching him out there grooving to the music and thinking "Damn! I get to go home with that guy! I am one lucky woman."

Lord of the dance

They boy, he can't stop dancing.  Anytime music starts, his hips start a wiggling and his feet start a tapping... he can't seem to help himself.  If you click here it will take you to my first YouTube video of Alex clearly at the mercy of the music.  He wants to drink his juice and play with his blocks, but the music... the music is too powerful.

Just a bunch of stuff...

I've had a headache for two days and I'm being quite the wimp about it. I'm blaming it on having taken Alex to frolic amongst other sticky, slobbery, boogery germ factories (aka other kids) the other day at the play area in the mall.  I'd intentionally kept him from contact with other kids for the last few weeks because John kept getting sick and if I had to hear him whine anymore about being "not right in the head" I'd have probably shoved that jar of Vicks right down his throat.  But, Alex was getting antsy and so I broke down and took him.  The pure joy and happiness he displayed running around the play area stealing other kid's toy dinosaurs was totally worth this headache.

Yesterday I went for coffee with the mom's club I joined and really had a nice time.  This club is geared towards STAHM's who aren't LDS (or religious at all really), a group of women I didn't think existed in Utah.  It was refreshing to talk to other women who really are a lot like me.  I am very excited about having joined and I'm optimistic about meeting some new friends.

And, in perhaps the best news, Alex has begun to give kisses.  John and I have always made a point to be very affectionate with him, and until now, the most we would get in return would be a leg-squeeze. But yesterday, I was laying on the couch and as Alex walked by I said "Gimmie a kiss Monk" and he stopped, moved his little face towards mine, closed his eyes and planted his slobbery lips right on mine.  Then, as if that weren't sweet enough, he grabbed my neck and gave me a squeeze.  My heart exploded and I melted into a big puddle of goo right then and there.

Project Hot Mom Returns (again)

Ok, I am officially starting up Project Hot Mom again.  This fat ass has got to go.  I mean, there's really no excuse for it.  It's just there, jiggling menacingly at passers by.  To my credit, it hasn't gotten any bigger since I quit my job.  In fact, I am a whole five pounds lighter than I was when I was employed.  But, it really is time to get back on the wagon again and give loosing this pregnancy weight a real go again.  I mean, I really haven't tried very hard in the last year, and it's too bad because by now I should be at my pre-pregnancy weight or less.  But, it's never too late to start (again), and I think I'm ready to give it another try. 

In March John and I have our fourth wedding anniversary and Alex will turn 18 months old.  I would like to get a professional family portrait done around that time as well.  So that will serve as my timeline.  By the end of March I want to have lost 30 pounds.  That should put me around 20 pounds lost by our anniversary and 30 pounds lost (PRE-PREGNANCY WEIGHT!!!) for our family portrait. That means I have to loose 2 pounds a week.  Totally doable.

I begin today.

Picture with Santa

We went and sat on Santa's lap this week and Alex was the only little kid we saw NOT to cry for the picture.  He sat on his lap, looked right at the camera and smiled. 

Note: While Alex busily asked Santa for:  "babba baby noo noo noo DADDY! BA! Mmmmm." (He was also the only baby-type to actually TALK to Santa)  all I want for Christmas is for the boy to grow some damned hair!

hung over

So, last night we popped open a leftover bottle of wine from Thanksgiving, and two glasses later I was completely drunk and stumbling around the house.  I woke up this morning with a pounding headache, sensitivity to light and sound and the very strong desire to curl up under the covers and sleep until next week.  Clearly I don't drink enough, because suffering from a hangover from only two measly glasses of wine is pretty pathetic.

Who does he look like?

We were sitting at the dinner table when John said:

"He doesn't really look like me anymore"
"Yes he does"
"Well, he does, but he doesn't look like my clone anymore.  I mean, you don't look at him and think that I just proceated with myself to produce my exact replica.  He's definately got someone else's genes"
"Ahem." I say, pointing at myself
"No, he doesn't look like you. He looks like he's got someone else's DNA other than mine, I just can't place who"
"I incubated him. I gave birth to him. He came out of MY vagina.  He looks like me.  ME ME ME!"
"No, that's not it."

Five things I swear Alex said even though he can't speak yet

1. "Here ya go"



2. "Mamas boobs" (he may have actually said this as he was pointing to my boob at the time)



3. "Em Repubkin" which I translated as "I am a Republican" (OH NO!!!!!)



4. "Kiddie farzzzz" which I translated as "The kitty farts"



5. "The dingo ate your baby" which he said clear as day with a hint of an Austrailian accent.  I shit you not.

Can't post... busy!

I am in a mad rush trying to get all of our holiday "business" taken care of.  Presents either made or purchased, wrapped and shipped.  Holiday cards addressed and mailed.  Hickory Farms cheese balls purchased and eaten...  I'm telling you, it's hard work!

I'm more stressed this year than normal, I suspect, because this year I'm personally hand-making about half of our gifts.  That not only means I've got a lot to do, I've also put a lot of myself into these presents and I'm feeling a little self conscious about it.  I mean, if someone doesn't like their 2007 desk calendar, who cares?  But what if they don't like something I actually made?  Add that to the fact that John is never any help whatsoever around the holidays and Alex makes just about everything about 10 times harder (be it making gifts, shopping, wrapping, shipping...), well, let's just say I'm a little tightly wound right now.

Happy Holidays from The Dillier Family

Well, even though we never did get a perfect family picture, I picked out three of the 75 pictures we took and ordered our holiday cards. 

When I first looked at the photos I saw squity eyes, my bangs going wild, Alex refusing to look at the camera, John's three day old beard stubble...  But when I took a second look, I saw us.  Our family.  For better or worse, that's us.  A picture is supposed to capture a moment in time.  It's supposed to be a snapshot of life and those pictures are exactly that.  I look at our holiday card and I see a happy, loving family.  And in my eyes, regarless of my crooked smile and stupid bangs, regardless of John's stubble and squinty eyes, regardless of Alex's out and out refusal to look at the camera, we are picture perfect. 

And here I thought he was just being sweet

This has been my view of Alex all morning:

Lately, he's become Mr. Hugger Extraordinaire. Running up to you and giving your legs a big squeeze, so at first, I thought he was just being extra affectionate today.

But he never let go!  I'm walking around the kitchen doing some morning chores; boiling John some eggs, starting dinner in the crock pot, doing dishes... He's holding on to my leg for dear life.  I was literally DRAGGING him around while attached to my leg.  I tried to shake him off, but he just held on tighter.

Then I started to worry.  Maybe he's sick.  Maybe he's feeling insecure for some reason.  Maybe he's scared of something.  And then it hit me.  I was wearing brand new velour yoga pants.  Soft and fuzzy.  Anyone who knows my son knows the kid is a sucker for something soft.  He can barely even touch his teddy bears without popping his thumb in his mouth and rubbing his forehead on them.  He was simply indulging in the softness of my pant leg.  When I told this to my mother over the phone she said "Well, if you're ever feeling like you need some cuddles from your son, you know what to wear."  Yep, I now have Alex bait.  Fuzzy pants.

I made it!

For the last day of NaBloPoMo, I will leave you with pictures from Alex's first experience with snow.

We're not on speaking terms right now

If someone came to me today and told me they were thinking of having a baby, I would tell them to run, not walk, to the closest doctor and have themselves sterilized immediately.  That may seem a bit dramatic, but what you don't know is today I spent the entire afternoon holiday shopping with Alex.  It took all my willpower not to call and schedule an appointment to have my tubes tied myself. 

First off, I have to say that anyone who goes into Kohl's during holiday shopping season and takes the very last cart that has a child seat and that person does not have a child should be shot on sight.  Not enough to kill them maybe, but definitely a flesh wound that would render them incapable of shopping for at least the rest of the season, because that person, that person is going to hell.  Well, I don't believe in hell, but if I did, anyone taking a cart with a child seat that does not have a child is evil.  Pure, unmitigated evil.  There, I said it.  I can guarantee you that if you take the last cart with a child seat and you don't have a child, there is no way that you need it as badly as the woman walking into Kohl's behind you carrying a 14 month old Tasmanian Devil.  Hey, I would have even settled for a cart without a child seat and just had Alex stand up in the basket, but there weren't even any of those around.  I thought I was smart, it was early, 10:30AM on a freaking WEDNESDAY, I mean, don't these people work?  Why are they all at Kohl's anyway?  Anyway, on to my story.

I was on the prowl for a gift for the person I drew for the Dillier Gift Exchange.  I had a list, I had a mission.  I also had a 25 pound spider monkey on my hip who had a mission of his own to attempt to break anything he could get his hands on.  He ran around like he was high on speed, grabbing hangers, flashlights, holiday mugs, hats...  At one point, I thought I'd lost him, only to find him hiding in a rack of winter coats. 

I did manage to find the item I was looking for, and proceeded to the checkout at which point, the boy began to scream like a banshee and thrash around almost breaking my nose with his freakishly hard head all the while the woman ahead of me made the cashier double check every last one of her items to ensure she got the sale price.  Meanwhile Alex had almost shoved an entire pair of holiday socks into his mouth.  When I finally got to the cashier myself Alex's face was purple and streaked with tears and I was a sweaty mess from trying to lug around my items and wrestling the boy.

"How are you today" the cashier asked me.  I just stared at her.
"I'd like to return this for a full refund please"  I replied, nodding at my son who was attempting to do a full back bend over my arm.
"Do you have the receipt?"
"No, can I get store credit?"
"I"m sorry, I think you'll have to keep him"

$$$

As he's opening up the new Superman Returns DVD we bought earlier in the evening:

"There was a $3 coupon at my dad's for this movie"
"Well don't open it! Take that one back and use the coupon to buy a new one!"
"It's only $3.  I don't want to deal with all that for $3"
"I'd do it,"
"But it's only $3"
"Hey, that's more than I make in a year!"

Naptime

Two naps are back!  About two months ago, Alex dropped one of his naps, opting to only nap for 2-3 hours in the afternoon only after he'd seen his father for lunch.  But over the weekend, without warning, he added a late-morning nap, and I'm both thrilled, and, well, a little bored right now.  He's been asleep since 3:00 and I'm fighting the urge to go poke him and say "WAKE UP AND PLAY WITH ME!" 

Good morning

It's one of those mornings where everything goes my way.  Alex and I got up, he drank almost all of his morning vanilla shake (for extra calories, still trying to fatten him up), then he passed out for a late morning nap.  I had time to:

• work out on the elliptical



• check my email



• listen to an old epiode of Penn Jillette's radio show



• take a shower AND shave my legs (a rare event these days)



• put lotion on



• put moisturizer on my face



• eye cream on my eyes (I've become obsessed with my eye wrinkles)



• PUT MAKEUP ON!!!



• blow dry my hair



• find and then break a really cool necklace I was going to wear



• post on my blog



• start dinner in the crock pot



• remember we're going to the in-laws for dinner (doh!)



• IM John a slightly dirty funny message, that he doesn't get



• explain dirty message to the point where it's not funny anymore and just wierd



• Read half of my newest parenting magazine

Now, Alex is awake and talking to himself in his room. If I'm up to it, I may take him to the mall for his first visit with Santa!

Bizarro John

Suffering the indignity of a lost bet.

Stupid BYU scored a touchdown at the last second!  GAH!!!  We had to cry ourselves to sleep Saturday night.

A lesson in taking your own family portrait (or not)

So, I had this great idea that John, Alex and I would get ourselves all gussied up, cruise on over to the park and take the perfect family picture.  Thereby saving lots of money AND getting our holiday cards out early.  Yea right.  Here are the highlights:

My hair went wild right away and Alex made it clear he doesn't intend to EVER look at the camera.

Here he is trying to get away.

Um, low angle, too dark.

Alex trying to nuzzle me.

Very close, but Alex looks pissed.

Would have been perfect, but out of focus.

Closer...

Ah shit, we all gave up in this one.

The stupid games we play when we get bored during a long weekend

John is trying to convince Alex that he (John) is actually Howard Dean in our office.  Alex figures him out though.

Download alex13_months_276.mov

Shaking their moneymakers

I've been lured to the basement by the boys having a dance party in their underwear.  John turned on the music channel on cable and the two of them are dancing up a storm to "I'll tumble 4 ya" and "the boys are back in town".  Now tell me, who would want to be enjoying alone time when that is going on?  Ah, I was getting bored anyway.

Day off!

I am taking the day off.  I have handed the child to the husband who immediately retreated to the basement to teach his son the wonders of college football in High Definition TV.  So, having the day to myself, I'm happily, thankfully, wonderfully bored.  Of course, John watching the child still means I have to change all the diapers and feed him his meals, but, it's still glorious, glorious alone time between my motherly obligations of poopy pants and dodging flying macaroni.

I love my son, I do, but I'm not used to having someone around all the time.  Not just around, but literally hanging off of my body constantly NEEDING something.  A girl needs a break occasionally.  As a person who really values, nay, REQUIRES copious amounts of alone time, the year of The Boy has provided me with precious little.  The bits of alone time I do get are usually spent cleaning up one mess or another that Alex has made.  So today, I'm doing a whole lot of nothing.  A little knitting, trying to learn to crochet, I've got two books I'm in the middle of readin, maybe a nap...  I'm going to take advantage of my husband's long weekend.  I will attempt to convince him that this weekend is an excellent opportunity to spend some quality one-on-one time with his son.  There's more than enough football on the next three days to keep John holed up in the basement with his TV and remote controls, and the basement's pretty well Alex-proof, so he can run around with minimal supervision.  This is perfect for me because the messes he makes will be in John's "zone" and I won't have to clean them up.  Oh, it's going to be a great weekend, and I'll be nice and rested up to go back to full-on-mommy-mode Monday.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Barely noon on Thanksgiving day and I've just finished off my first Hickory Farms cheeseball of the year.  I tell you there is nothing I look forward to more each year than the opening of the Hickory Farms kiosk at the mall.  Nothing says holidays to me more than a round nutty ball of cheesy goodness.

This year worked out such that John, Alex and I are on our own for Thanksgiving dinner.  That means Turkey-Day dinner a la Jamie:

• Small turkey breast (freezer to oven!)



• Stove top stuffing



• Rolls from a tube



• Instant mashed potatoes



• Turkey gravey from a jar



• Canned sweet corn



• Peach cobbler from a box with a big dolop of whipped cream, from a tub.



• And of course, four bottles of wine

Painting

All of this:

(Don't worry, the paint is non-toxic)

For this:

Yea, it was totally worth it!

The babykeeper

Maybe a year ago I would have thought this was ridiculous. Now I'm thinking, not such a bad idea.  Maybe hanging Alex on the back of the bathroom door is a better alternative to him climbing under the partition into the next stall to say hi to the other ladies (it's happened!), or sticking his face in my underwear (ugh, yep, it's happened).

Daddy's home!

Well, John's home,  and none too soon, because all of this quality time I'm spending with The Boy is great and all, but 72 hours of nothing but me and the kid just about did me in.  It seems Alex had had enough of me as well because as soon as John walked in the door Sunday night, he was all about Daddy.  He ended up sleeping with us last night because he just wanted to cuddle in his daddy's arms all night long.  We tried several times to put him to bed, but he just ended up hysterical in his crib.  It really wasn't fair, because I wanted some cuddle time with John myself.  But with those big blue eyes, huge smile and saying nothing but "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"  I didn't stand a chance.

Priority Mail

Tupperware thief

Caught red handed!

Obsess much?

Ok, in the last week I have made:

• Three scarves (2 child size and 1 adult)



• Two baby hats



• Three child size hats (four if you count my first attempt dud)



• Two adult size hats (and one in the works, half way done)

I

Can't

Stop!!!!

I don't know why, but I've become positively addicted to knitting!  It's become like a drug, Alex has become a knitting orphan, he comes up to me, begging for me to read him a book and I say "Just one more row Sweetie, I promise".  The next thing I know, he's passed out on the floor and I'm tying off the top of yet another hat.  It seems I only leave the house these days to go to the craft store for more yarn.  It's gotten so bad that I'm DREAMING about knitting.

To my credit, three of the hat/scarf sets and the set I'm currently working on are going to be holiday gifts.  So it's not like I'm just making my own personal hat army.  It's so fun to me, that I can start with just a big ball of yarn and just by making a series of loops and knots, I've created from nothing, something.  A hat!

Here are a couple of my favorites:

I made this one for Alex, but he hates it.  Won't even get near it.  I did manage to get it on his head once and it was really cute, but I doubt if he'll ever wear it.

This is the cutest thing ever. It's itty bitty and soft as can be.  Alex LOVES this one, but it doesn't come any where near fitting his head (which I'm sure John is happy about, it being all "sugar and spice and everything nice" and all).  He just likes holding it and rubbing it on his cheek. 

This is a set I'm planning to give our friends' three year old daughter for the holidays.  I'm in the process of making her mother a matching set( without the colorful fluffy parts).

Five things I won't miss

John's gone for the weekend duck hunting, and instead of moping around missing him, I thought I'd focus on the things I won't miss while he's gone.

1. The farting



2. Hogging the computer



3. Every time he sits on the sofa, it scoots back two inches. 



4. All the crap he leaves on my kitchen counter



5. I can't think of a fifth thing, because, damn, he really is a great guy, and I miss him already!

Project

John's sister made a really cute hat and scarf set for their sister's birthday, and since then, I've been determined to make one myself.  I had started a knitting project about a month ago, but after a month of knitting, I had a scarf about two and a half inches long and six inches wide.  But, this newfound determination to make a hat has made me quite prolific. 

Hat attempt #1.

This hat is so thick, it won't even stretch over Alex's head.

Hat attempt #2:

To quote John "It would be a great hat, if Alex was a girl"

Hat attempt #3:  Screw making a hat for Alex, I'm making one for me!

Yeah baby!

Raspberries

Alex and I were playing on my bed when he yanked my shirt up and gave me a surprisingly loud raspberry on my tummy.  That was weird, Mommy getting raspberried by her 1 year old.

We really did know better

We let Alex eat a sucker at 9:30 pm last night.  That particular decision led to a very fussy and very AWAKE child at midnight who would not, under no circumstances, lay down in his own bed.  Consequently we had a squirmy child in bed with us most of the night and I did not get any sleep.

It all started because we let Alex eat suckers on Halloween.  He very quickly came to realize that suckers are manna from heaven.  Not only are they sweet and yummy, but also provide an unmeasurable amount of fun when you rub a sucker soaked in spit in your hands producing a sweet and sticky slime perfect for smearing on everything. 

So last night, when I came downstairs after changing Alex's diaper, Alex was overjoyed to find that his daddy had opened up a sucker to eat.  He immediately began grabbing at John's sucker, determined to have it for himself.  John, disgusted at the fact that Alex's hand was now touching his opened sucker, the very hand that had only a few minutes before been grabbing at his balls while having his diaper changed, let Alex take the sucker away.  There was no way John was going to eat the sucker now that it had "ball germs" on it. 

Now, at this point, as a responsible parent, I should have confiscated the sucker.  Had I done that, we all would have had a nice restful sleep.  But I didn't.  The smile on Alex's face while he was running away with his stolen sucker was so precious, so sweet, so amazingly cute, I let him have it.  So, apparently, I am the sucker.

Proud of his genetics

"Did the baby poop?"

"No, that was me"

"Really, that was a fart? Because it smells like a dirty diaper"

"I've noticed that sometimes, and I have to say, I like that I've passed some of my genetics on to him"

"Genetics?  You're happy that your fart smells like baby poo?"

"No, Alex's poop smells like my fart"

"Like father, like son then huh?"

"Yep"

Help wanted

I'm starting to think about getting a part time job.  We're getting dangerously close to not being able to maintain our current lifestyle, and when John says "I'm thinking I could probably live without cable TV", I know I've got to do something, because damn if we're going to go without cable!

The problem is, I don't want a real job.  I don't want a job that I have to think about all the time. I don't want something where the work piles up and waits for me if I'm out sick. I don't want a "career path" or "opportunity for advancement".  I just want to go in a couple days a week, work, collect my paycheck and go home.  I used to do temp work.  Administrative stuff like answering phones, filing, data entry, etc.  when I was a teenager.  That may be a good option for me.  No commitments, no stress, just go in, get the job done and leave.  I could even get a job at one of the retail stores in town.  Almost everyone is hiring for the holidays right now, maybe I could get something on the weekends.

Maybe next week I'll start exploring some options.  See what I can do to earn a few extra bucks and still be home the majority of my time with Alex.

If he hates the weather now, how are we going to make it through winter?

Just got back from the park watching John play in a turkey bowl for his company.  We missed the game they actually won and only saw the game where they got postitively spanked.  I only know this of course because John told me they got spanked.  I can't follow football unless there are lines on the field, instant replay in slo-mo and a scoreboard, and even then it's iffy. 

We left early because Alex was pitching a monumental fit.  If there's anything that kid hates it's being cold.  I bundled him up in several layers and then wrapped him in two blankets and John's extra sweatshirt, put TWO hats on him and a pair of gloves and installed him in a stroller where he was happy for exactly 5.2 seconds before he wanted to get out and run around.  So I unwrap him and let him loose, he runs around for about 2 minutes then decides it's way too cold and wants to be held.  I pick him up, wrap him in blankets again, but this was entirely unacceptable to him.  I put him down again where he proceeded to pick up every piece of trash he could find and put it in his mouth.  After taking away yet another empty coffee cup, I decided to put him back in the stroller which he just would not have.  He thrashed around screaming and crying like he was in some kind of torture chamber.  I finally decided to bag it and come home. 

Being a little butt head apparently wears a little guy out because by the time we got home he was passed out in his carseat and didn't even bat an eye when I put him in his crib.

Five ways in which Alex has hurt himself this week

1. Managed to find the one inch section of unprotected fireplace hearth  to fall on (the rest is covered with a pool noodle) and scraped his cheek



2. Chased a ball under the keyboard of the piano, retrieved it and stood up fast and bonked his head



3. Running naked into my bathroom to take a shower (he LOVES showers, I don't know why), tripped on the bathmat and fell flat on his face and cut his bottom lip with his teeth



4. Playing with the pillows on my bed, jumped onto one of them and bounced right off the bed



5. Closing one of my kitchen cupboards (after throwing all the tupperware out onto the floor of course) he pinched his fingers in the door.

All it takes

Him: "Sea Otters are one of the few animals who use tools.  You see, they take a rock and a clam and float on their backs, then bang, bang, bang (he's demonstrating this as well) they'll crack the clam open with the rock and eat it off their tummies"

Me: "I'm so hot for you right now, you have no idea"

What I've learned

I have a wonderful life, I do.  I'm in love, I have a beautiful, healthy child, we have a nice home and food on the table... Life is fantastic.  But I sometimes wonder, could I have just bypassed that bad shit and still ended up here?  There are five years of my life in particular that I'd like to tie in a weighted burlap sack and throw into a river, never to be thought of again. 

One of my goals in life is to learn from every experience I have.  The good, the bad and the ugly.  I hate looking back on parts of my life with a feeling that all I've gone through was a waste.  My first marriage was a study in what NOT to do in a relationship.  Here are a few things I learned from that little experience:

1. DON'T marry someone you even REMOTELY think might be batting for the other team.  In my experience, if you think they're gay, they probably are, and no amount of sexual prowess you may possess as a woman will get them to stop thinking about cock. 



2. Don't marry someone who has the same temperament as you.  If you both have quick tempers, you'll end up fighting all the time.



3. If you find gay porn on your computer, and YOU didn't put it there, he's probably gay.



4. If he lies to you about stupid things, like when he bought that new shirt, or where he put the Kleenex, he's probably lying to you about bigger things too



5. If he grabs your ass and fondles your boobies in public, but when you get home won't so much as kiss you on the cheek.  Really, he's probably gay.



6. Having all the "stuff", like new cars, a new house, nice furniture, etc... doesn't make your marriage better.  Just because it looks good on the surface, doesn't mean it's good underneath.  In other words, if you're working harder on making your marriage LOOK good instead of it actually BEING good, it's not as good as you think it is.



7. If a package comes in the mail, you open it and it's a set of vibrators that you didn't order, yep, probably gay.



8. Don't try to compete with your mother-in-law if your husband is a mamas boy.  She will ALWAYS win.



9. If you found out he had sex with the best man from your wedding, yea, he's definitely gay.



10. Most importantly, If he treats you badly, if he lies to you, steals from you and abuses you, he doesn't really love you because someone who loves you will treat you with respect and dignity.  And you deserve that, no matter what he says.

I have the best husband in the world now.  He treats me with respect. I am his partner, I am his lover, I am the mother of his child and he makes me feel loved and valued in all three of those roles.  I never fear that he will hurt me, neither physically nor verbally.  Unfortunately, I can't be sure that I would appreciate how amazing my husband is unless I had known the opposite first hand.  I never take John for granted and I can honestly look back on my first marriage and finally be glad I experienced it because it was a small price to pay for the life I'm enjoying now.

I am Emmitt Smith

I am really digging Emmitt Smith on Dancing with the Stars.  He's surprisingly light on his feet and, I tell you, the man can dance!  After watching Emmitt's first dance of the night, the Waltz, I told John I was going to call in for the first time and vote for him.  He was amazing.  I want him to win.  Well, maybe I just want to see him shake his groove thing for another week. 

During Emmitt's second dance, I believe it was a Cha Cha, I was floored.  Mouth agape, drool dripping down my chin.  He was HOT!  Without thinking, I turn to John and say "Do you mind if I call you Emmitt tonight?"  Thankfully, John misunderstood what I said and replied, "Sure, go ahead and call to vote for Emmitt." 

Turns out I CAN still blame my fat ass on him

It occurred to me last night that I haven't lost any weight because I'm snacking all day long.  I'm snacking all day long because I'm trying all day long to get Alex to eat.  Him not eating stresses me out, and voila!  I spend the day munching on cheese-its (THAT I DON'T EVEN LIKE!).  Yes, it's all Alex's fault still.  13 months out of the womb and I'm still finding ways to blame my cottage cheese thighs on him.  Oh, I'm good.

Douche vs Turd Sandwich 2006

I'm only mildly disappointed in myself that I didn't vote today.  I'm not one of those "Democracy rocks!" Rah rah types and I feel that women fought for the RIGHT to vote, not the obilgation.  So, this year, I'm excercising my right NOT to vote.  I mean, to vote for the lesser of two evils is still voting for evil right?  There aren't any props out there I'm dying to vote for or against this time around, so, I stayed away from the polls.  Honestly, it's really just lazyness that kept me from voting this year.  I didn't bother to get to know the candidates or the issues, and I feel that an ignorant vote is worse than no vote at all.

That didn't stop every single damn candidate from calling my house for the last few days though.  I'm so happy that by the end of the day I don't have to pick up the phone to hear "Hi, I'm Candidate Assface.  The other candidtate doesn't care about you or your family.  I do.  Vote for me"  Not a single phone call or piece of literature in my mailbox told me anything I wanted to know about any of the candidates, what they stood for or what they belived in.  Sure, it wasn't nasty politics, they weren't slandering anyone really, it's just that all the information that was easily accessible didn't tell me anything that distiguished any candidate from another.  I'm sure I could have found out more, but that would have taken time and effort, and like I said, this year I was just too lazy.  Yea, yea, I know.  Bad American!  Bad!  I'm going to my room to think about what I've done.

They're getting serious about this

I can admit it now, I've been reading fussy every day, just for the NaBloPoMo seals. 

I might have to write a strongly worded letter to Sprint for scaring my son.

Whenever that Sprint commercial comes on, the one where Ron Livingston comes up out of a hole in the floor, writes a "+" and "=" and then goes back down the hole, Alex freaks out and cries.  At first, I thought it was because he must think that the guy is getting eaten up by the floor. That'd be pretty scary to a kid.  But just tonight John said that another Sprint comercial came on, a different one where the guy doesn't sink into the floor and Alex cried and climbed up into his lap.  So what is it that he's afraid of?  The bright yellow background? Does he just not like Ron Livingston?  Does he feel that Sprint drops too many calls and doesn't offer fair calling plans (we are, after all, a Verizon family)? 

The worst feeling

The last few months, I've started to play a bit more rough with Alex, getting over the fear that he might break into itty bitty pieces if I so much as hugged him too hard.  He loves playing rough, loves being swung around and chased and grabbed and turned upside down... And I just can't get enough of his squeals, his all out belly laughing.  The cute way he pretends to get away, and if I don't go after him immediately, he stops and peaks over his shoulder, squealing and laughing in anticipation of when I'm going to get him. 

So this afternoon, Alex and I were playing on my bed.  I was picking him up and throwing him into the pillow and he was laughing hysterically.  Then I flopped onto the bed and tickled his belly, rolled over, didn't realize his little leg was under me, I pulled him up to throw him into the air and accidentally twisted his little leg while I pulled him up.  Poor guy cried and cried.  I felt awful.  He wasn't hurt badly, after a few minutes of crying, he demonstrated that he could walk (but did have a little limp), and soon after began grabbing at me, wanting me to throw him in the air some more.  But I couldn't.  I can't stand it when Alex is hurt, and when I'm the one who hurts him (albeit accidentally), it just breaks my heart into pieces. 

He's fine now, not even a slight limp and has forgotten about the whole thing, but I suspect there will be less roughhousing from me for a while. 

IOU, Daddoo

Alex has taken to calling John "Daddoo"  which I think is amazingly cute, but John keeps trying to get him to call him "Daddy".  Alex can say "Daddy", but he seems to prefer "Daddoo" as John's title. 

I didn't get to sleep until well after three in the morning. I ended up reading my book in the living room again.  I'm beginning to suspect that my insomnia may actually be related to that stupid book I'm reading.  I'm reading I know this much is true, by Wally Lamb.  I've read the book twice before.  It's big, about 800 pages or so and I bought it years ago out of the clearance bin at B&N because it was a New York Times best seller and one of Oprah's book club choices.  It had to be good and for $5, quite the bargain. 

The main character's identical twin is a paranoid schizophrenic who chops off his right hand for God. The story of their childhood, up to the point where the sick twin has his first psychotic episode. Then on to the story of their maternal grandfather, an immigrant from Sicily who marries a woman on the run for murder, and the woman's story, told by her best friend who the grandfather calls "The Monkey".  The characters get under your skin and their stories are so disturbing and at times gruesome.  I find myself thinking about them even when I'm not reading the book.  I know what happens, I've read it twice already. There are no surprises, but each time I read it, I find myself unable to stop at chapter's end.  I keep turning the pages, anxious for what's to come.  I hope to finish the damn thing this weekend, put it away high up on a shelf and finally get some sleep.

Anyhow, getting to bed after 3:00 this morning, I was a zombie when Alex woke at 7:30.  Shuffling into his room, I picked him up, plopped him on our bed between John and me and fell right back to sleep.  Alex, needing a bottle and very unhappy that he'd been simply transferred into our bed instead of given warm milk and cartoons on TV began howling for justice.  All I remember is rolling over and telling John "I'll give you five million dollars if you take care of him this morning".  Apparently he took the deal because the next thing I remember was John coming into the bedroom at quarter to 10 asking me what Alex ate for breakfast. "Oatmeal and yogurt" I mumbled and flopped back onto the pillow.

There was quite the commotion going on in the kitchen.  Cupboard doors and drawers being slammed peppered with John's exasperated "No!  Stop it! Buddy, No!"  Then silence for about a minute followed by Alex's obviously frustrated crying and John saying "Yum yums Buddy, yum yum".  After another 2 or 3 minutes, silence again.  I decided I'd better get up and find out what was going on.  Alex never gave me that much trouble during breakfast.  I found John and a slightly perturbed looking Alex in the family room.  "I guess he wasn't hungry, he wouldn't eat"  John said.  I took the boy and let John go downstairs for a break. 

Opening up the fridge, I figured out the problem right away.  Somehow, John had found a container of oatmeal in the pantry that I didn't even know we had and made that for Alex.  The problem is, Alex will only eat the banana flavored baby oatmeal I keep in what I call the "baby cupboard".  Having only mumbled "oatmeal and yogurt", naturally John thought the oatmeal he found with all our other dry food was what I was talking about.  Having been offered REGULAR oatmeal instead of his special BANANA oatmeal royally pissed the boy off and he refused to even take a bite.  I quietly whipped up Alex's normal breakfast and he happily ate.

I feel bad, because John really does try hard when he's got Alex by himself.  How cute is it that he rummaged through our pantry for oatmeal, only to miraculously find some and it was the wrong kind.  I'm sure the commotion going on in the kitchen was Alex opening up all the cupboards and drawers and flinging hot pads and Tupperware all over the kitchen floor while John was trying to make his breakfast.  I think I might actually have to pay up on that five million dollar thing.  Maybe he'll let me pay off my debt in sexual favors.  How much does a good BJ go for these days?

Counting sheep

I have not been able to go to sleep for the last week.  I lay there, blinking through the darkness until my eyes adjust enough so that I can see the ceiling, and I listen to my husband breathing.  I can hear Alex in the next room rolling over.  I listen to the cats roaming the house.  Eventually, I usually get up and read for a few hours in the family room.  I don't know what is going on.  I'm still waking up at 7:00 with Alex and I haven't been taking naps during the day. I just can't seem to get to sleep at night.

I suppose I could look at this insomnia as a good thing and take the opportunity for some quality "me time":  Catch up on the History Channel, finish knitting that stupid scarf (it's only about 2 inches long so far), read a book (which is what I have been doing)... It's frustrating is all.  I mean, no sleep at night means a groggy me during the day, which you'd think would make me tired at night, but no, come 10:00 pm, I'm wide awake staring at the ceiling again.  Ugh.

Five not quite profanities that I absolutely hate

1. Gosh



2. Heck



3. Frigging



4. Dang



5. Shoot

Nothing really interesting in this post.

Only day two of NaBloPoMo and I'm having to scrounge up crap from the couch cushions to write about.  This isn't looking good.

I'm still suffering from the gamboo I contracted over the weekend and I feel like I'm filled with Elmer's glue from my lungs to my ears.  John's had it for two weeks now and he's still all phlegmy so I don't anticipate a speedy recovery from this one.  Luckily, the Monkey seems to have been spared from the worst of it and only has a few boogers. 

After promising John I wouldn't spend any more money (he's managed to come up with our property tax money, but our savings account is going to have to starve for a while), I discovered that I'd misplaced the only pair of shoes that fit Alex's feet over Halloween.  Seeing as how he walks everywhere now, and I was too lazy to call around to find the shoes, also the fact that he's almost outgrown them already and was in need of new shoes anyway, we took a trip to the store to get him a new pair.  I had his feet measured and he's a solid size 5.  I couldn't believe it, only a month ago he was a 3 1/2!  I bought him a pair of cute white, black and red basketball looking shoes in a size 5 1/2.  They looked enormous on him, but when he got down and ran around in them, he really only has a smidgen of room to grow.  Looks like he's going to be blessed with John's huge hobbit feet.

Things are also looking up on the food front.  I've discovered that Alex adores mac and cheese.  Gobbles it up by the fistful.  So now I've got a nice arsenal of "sure to please" foods that I can count on.  So far we've got: Oatmeal with yogurt, cheese sticks, raspberries, mac and cheese, vanilla meal shakes, popcorn and cheese-its.  If we're out and about, he'll also eat McDonald's snack wraps (chicken and cheese in a tortilla) and french fries.  On Halloween, we discovered he likes lollipops and jujyfruits, but I'm not desperate enough to give him that crap on a daily basis.  Yea, the kid will be plumping up in no time. 

Post or DIE!

It's National Blog Posting Month!

I fully intend to post something, anything every day this month, because, well, I don't want to die.

Halloweenie

Yesterday, he dressed up as a good Jedi

But today, he went to the Dark Side:
(Wisely, I switched out the white socks for black later in the day)

He learned that suckers, they're yummy.

He met his evil twin.

It was a good day.

Oh, and John's a dork