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
We watch our fair share of cartoons, Alex and I. There are only a few that I can stand: Caillou, Aurthur, Curious George and SpongeBob SquarePants to name a few. We watch a lot of SpongeBob. Mostly because it's always on. At any given time during the day, there is an episode of SpngeBob playing. The other afternoon, Alex and I were watching SpongeBob when John came in
"Why do gay people like Squidward?"
"Huh?"
"Well, I'd heard that Squidward is supposed to be based on some real gay celebrity and SpongeBob has a big gay following because of it"
I'd never heard that, but it got me thinking, who could Squidward be? The only gay celebrity I could think of Squidward reminding me of was Charles Nelson Reilly. So I did some searching online, and found out that Squidward wasn't based on Charles Nelson Reilly, but coincidentally, Charles Nelson Reilly did the voice for The Dirty Bubble. I'm still at a loss as to why gay people in particular would be drawn to SpongeBob. I suspect it's not Squidward at all, but the fact that Spongebob is such a snappy dresser.
For reasons I can't begin to remember at the moment, we did not have an escrow acount setup with our mortgage, so the other day we got a bill for our property tax in the mail. $1800! This is not good considering we haven't been nearly as frugal as we should have been since I quit my job (and consequently lost 1/2 our income). This comes inconveniently right before the holidays and just prior to when we want to renew our season tickets for RSL. We've absentmindedly blown through a big chunk of our savings in the last two months and now with property tax and season tickets, we won't likely replace it any time soon. Gah.
It's not all bad though, like I said, we haven't really been living on a tight budget lately, so it shouldn't be too hard to find ways to cinch up our belts and scrape together what we need. It is quite the slap upside the head though. I mean, WHAT WERE WE THINKING? We weren't thinking at all apparently, and luckily we got a reality check before things got really out of hand.
Sorry about the late five lists lately...
I'm feeling much better today. I'm not sure why, maybe I just needed to vent. Anyhow, life is quite peachy again in the Dillier world, well, except John's sick. AGAIN. I swear, if someone sneezes within a four mile radius of my husband, he catches a cold.
I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow. I'd been growing it out, thinking I could get it long enough to be able to donate to an organization like Locks of Love, but they need a minimum of 10 inches. I've been growing this mop for a year now and I'll be lucky to get four inches cut off. My hair hasn't grown at all in the last three months or so, so I've given it up. I've got all these little wispy bits around my face that poke out everywhere, so I'm hoping I can get some kind of style that can work with these odd chunks of hair that don't grow. Maybe I'll get bangs... I'm sick of looking all frumpy. Granted, I've always been kind of frumpy, but since I've been home full time, it's been all sweats all the time, and I haven't actually DONE my hair in weeks, and I'm not even going to mention the state of my leg hair (I wonder if Locks of love would take leg hair?).
What the hell is my problem? Here I have the best life in the world and yesterday I end up giving my poor husband the business because he *gasp* went golfing. Something I TOLD him to do. While I was arguing with him on the phone, I kept thinking "why the hell am I mad at him?" But of course, I kept on arguing all the same.
By the end of the evening, I think I figured out what my stupid issue was. I was jealous. John gets to just up and go golfing if he wants to. He gets to just up and go hunting for the weekend with his dad and brother if he wants to. He gets to spend time just surfing the Internet if he wants to. He gets to poop without an audience. Me? Not so much. For me to do something, I have to arrange for someone to watch the child. I have to make sure everything is in order (he's fed, clean, napped and happy...etc.). And then when I do go out, the entire time, all I think about is Alex. Is he OK? Is he hungry? Did I make sure I left him with enough diapers? Maybe I should call and make sure he hasn't fallen down the stairs or poked his eye out, or got a raisin stuck in his ear... I seem to be completely incapable of turning off Mom, even for the shortest period of time to enjoy something on my own. John, however, doesn't have that weight of responsibility sitting square on his shoulders 24/7. He's able to go to work and think about work. He's able to go golfing and think about golfing. He's able to get on line without googling ear infections and diaper rash.
John tells me to just leave the baby with him. Take some time for myself. He can watch the baby. I should get out. And I desperately want to. I so want to just go get my hair cut, or sit and read a book, or go to a movie...anything and actually be able to let go, just enjoy it. But it always seems like more stress than it's worth. So I don't and then, when John takes his breaks, I get resentful. How come he can just shuck all of his parental responsibilities and be gone all weekend? What about me? It's a stupid cycle that I can't seem to short circuit. But I need to. I can't fault John for needing a break from all of his responsibilities once in a while. And it's certainly not his fault that I can't seem to ever break from "mom mode". And I'm no good to Alex if I'm all wound up and snippy. Mommy's no fun that way. So I'm going to work on that. I'm going to try to steal some "me time" once in a while and really make an effort to just relax and know that Alex is perfectly fine if I'm not around.
Alex is becoming a little parrot. Almost anything you say, he'll try to say. John and I went on a date tonight while his sister Heidi babysat. We came home to Alex walking around saying "Heidi, Heidi, Heidi, Heidi, Heidi, Heidi, Heidi, Heidi,Heidi, Heidi...." At one point I think he actually said "Heidi Ho" Oh, this phase is going to be SO. MUCH. FUN!
I can't take a decent picture of Alex anymore. The second he sees a camera, he immediately runs up and tries to grab it. I have to take all of my pictures at a distance or else they end up like these:
John took the day off for my birthday yesterday and I was excited to do some "family stuff". We discussed our options: Indoor playground at the mall, Aquarium, Discovery Museum downtown, Dinosaur museum, The farm to look at animals...
I decided that I wasn't likely to go all the way downtown to go to the Discovery Museum all by myself and John isn't likely to want to go ever, so being that it was my birthday and he was required to do whatever I wanted, we went to the Discovery Museum.
It was more pricey than I thought it would be, and I thought it was pretty lame that they charge the same price for all children, even a one year old who can't even participate in most of the exhibits. Also, why do the parents have to pay full price? It cost us $25 for the three of us to get in and once inside we realized, it's really just a glorified playground. It was fun though, and if Alex was older, it would have ALMOST been worth the price of admission, but $25 bucks? I don't think so.
Even after the sticker shock of admission, we put on our wrist bands and went inside. I was expecting more of a museum type of a place, but it was really more of a "little world" kind of thing. It was setup almost like a little town. There was a little construction site, a little grocery store, a little gas station, a little farm, a little water treatment plant... Kids were riding around on little scooter cars and wearing police uniforms and mailman hats, some were dressed as construction workers, farmers, grocery clerks...
First we took Alex into the baby area, there was a little tree house and a beaver hut and a swan lake and toys all over. They have little costumes in all the areas and I dressed him up like a beaver while he played. (of course I forgot my camera, so all I had was my phone to take pictures)
The waterworks exhibit was by far his favorite and ended up completely soaked
My personal favorite was the farm area. There was a big horse and stuffed chickens and fake veggies to pick. When we first went over there was an "egg tree" which bothered John so he took all the eggs down and replaced them with fake apples.
After a bit more exploring, we discovered a whole other level for older kids all about communication and media. John found the stop motion film setup and started making a dirty movie involving a plastic lion and a pink squeaky bunny, but his plan was thwarted when another family came by and started watching what he was doing. He ended up making a snuff film instead. Surprisingly no one was offended when the lion, originally intended to be humping the pink squeaky bunny, murdered him and their intended threesome partner the plastic dinosaur.
All in all we had a good time though and maybe with The Boy is a little older, we'll go back again.
So this is it. My last year of my 20's. I'm officially in my 30th year. I guess that means I'm a grown up now huh?
My 20's proved to be the most wild ride I could ever imagine. A summary of my 20's:
Right now, I am exactly where I want to be, doing what I want to do, I'm surrounded by the people I love... I could never have imagined at 20 that my future would look so bright at 29.
I want this year to be my best year yet. Last year was pretty damned good, but I want to enter my 30's happier and healthier than I've ever been.
I went out today in search of a suitable stay-at-home-mom-type crafty project to work on, being a rainy day and all, I thought it would be fun to do something during Alex's nap other than mop the floors, do laundry, clean the litter box or flop on the sofa and watch Dr. Phil. I came home with a "learn how to knit" kit and some super sexy variegated "fuzzy" yarn. I put Alex down for his nap and went to work.
Lesson 1: Casting on. Oh, I was a pro at that. Just whizzed right through.
Lesson 2: The knit stitch. This one stopped me in my tracks. Because I had bought the super sexy fuzzy yarn, I couldn't see any of my loops in the midst of all the yarn fuzz. I tried for a good 20 minutes or so and ended up with a big fuzzy knot ball on both of my knitting needles. I ended up chucking the yarn ball and my needles into the corner of the room and watched the tail end of Dr. Phil's episode on teen runaways. I'm going to get some el cheapo plain old boring yarn tomorrow and give it a go again.
Apparently two years apart is the timing of choice for today's young families. Ever since Alex turned one, I'm constantly asked when we're going to start trying for our second. I just look at them dumbfounded. Alex is still a baby for chrissakes! I haven't got so much as a twinkle in my eye at this point. Not to mention, I'm about to turn 29, and I have absolutely no plans to get pregnant before I turn 30. I have HUGE plans for my 30th birthday, none of which can be done while with child. You know, gambling all night in Vegas, obscene amounts of alcohol, hot monkey sex in an expensive hotel... ;) And did I mention that Alex is still a BABY? Why in the world would I want two of those at the same time? The one we've got now is almost more than we can handle.
I think it would be great for Alex to be old enough to actually know what's going on when we get pregnant again. I want to have him come to the ultrasound appointments and help decorate the nursery. And, as silly as it may sound, I want Alex to have a say in the timing of his brother or sister. I mean, we're a family now, and I feel that having a second child is something we should decide together as a family. It's a decision that will affect all three of us, quite possibly Alex the most and I feel very strongly that he should be included in that decision. Granted, a toddler vote wouldn't have the same weight as a Mommy or Daddy vote, and of course I understand that toddlers are fickle, and while he may think the idea of having a baby sister or brother is great one day and the worst thing possible the next, but I want him to feel that his opinion, his feelings are considered and taken seriously.
Also, I'm pretty sure this next child, will be my last child. And rather than just getting it over with, I'd like to put it off a while. I want to be able to enjoy the pregnancy, enjoy the newborn, enjoy nursing... Alex is a child who is all consuming. He's so energetic and curious, he requires constant attention and wrangling. If we wait a while, maybe by the time he's in preschool, I'll have the time and energy to enjoy the pregnancy and have one-on-one time with the new baby.
Ok, I have to apologize that my blog posts have sucked about 10 kinds of ass lately. Well, mostly because they've been focused on my child's ass and what is coming out of it. Well, I'm happy to report that the evil river of green slime has dried up into nice solid poops and we can all get back to our normal lives again.
A lot has been going on and I find myself thinking up posts in my head as I drift off to sleep at night, only to wake up in the morning and forget everything by the time I sit down at the computer. Here are some of the things I've wanted to write about but probably won't get the chance:
All in all, I think life is going well. I'm going to try to write better and more interesting posts from now on, hopefully nothing related to the contents of my son's diapers.
Well Alex seems to be recovering from the farfalonas. Last night I nearly peed myself with excitement while watching him eat three saltine crackers. After rejecting anything even slightly solid for three days, watching him nibble on crackers made my entire weekend. I also got him to take two bottles spiked with rice cereal, 1/2 a slice of cheddar and part of the tortilla from my bean and cheese burrito. He woke this morning and ate a full bowl of rice cereal and vanilla yogurt. All seems to be well in foodland again. And I am heaving a huge sigh of relief that my boy's belly is on the mend.
The bad news is that Rotavirus is highly contagious so anyone who came into contact with us within the last week should go stock up on toilet paper and butt cream.
Last night I kicked John out of our marital bed to sleep alone on the twin bed in the guest room. No, we weren't fighting, Alex was having a very rough night, the squirming, the moaning, the crying, the all out screaming. It was just easier to have Alex and I alone in the queen bed. It was one of those nights that reminded me of Alex as a newborn. Screaming and flailing his arms, me feeling helpless, not knowing what to do. He was also a little fireball. At 3AM he registered a 101 degree temperature. A dose of Tylenol brought it down and we got about 2 hours of sleep before he was restless again.
About 7am his butt exploded in watery diarrhea of the worst kind. Soaking his pants and running down both his and my legs as I rushed him to his room for a change. I ended up just plopping him in the tub because it was everywhere. While I was de-poopifying Alex, I yelled to John to call the pediatric clinic to see what their hours were. John yelled back noon-10pm. I decided Alex wasn't bad enough to warrant an ER visit, so I gave him to John with a bottle of milk and I went to bed thinking I'd take him in after I got some sleep. Waking up at 11:30 (Thanks for letting me sleep Honey!) I tried to feed the boy some oatmeal. He only ate one bite. I decided to give him some apple juice and called the pediatric clinic to see if I needed an appointment. The message told me they were open 8:30 to noon. It was 12:08! At this point I totally lost it. My baby was sick, dehydrated and I had wasted the entire day waiting for them to open, only to find out we had the hours wrong.
John called again and somehow got the 12-10:30 time again so I just took him in. It turns out he has Rota virus Gastroenteritis which is basically really really bad diarrhea and fever caused by a virus. He's also got a yeast infection on his little bum, which accounts for the baboon ass he's been sporting the last couple of days. I was sent home with instructions not to give him fruit juice or milk (AAck! That's all he's had the last three days!) and to watch him closely for signs of severe dehydration (he is dehydrated, but luckily not bad enough to warrant hospitalization). My poor sick little monkey.
Not a single morsel of solid food has passed the boy's lips since yesterday afternoon. He's still drinking milk and apple juice just fine, but when confronted with oatmeal, grapes, cheese or God forbid a cookie, he shakes his head so violently I'm afraid he'll pass out. I did manage to spoon some vanilla yogurt into his mouth, which he promptly spit all over me. I tried to trick him by putting some drinkable yogurt into a sippy cup, which he took happily, until he realized that it was *gasp* FOOD! and refuses to even look at the sippy cup anymore.
I guess he's not eating because he's sick. He had a case of the squirts so bad yesterday we easily went through 15 diapers and his rear turned into "MONKEY BUTT OF DOOM" We went through an entire tube of Desitin. He was also burning up with a fever all night long. He's still a little runny today, but the fever broke. He's still not quite himself yet though. Poor little guy.
My mission since last week following the very disappointing weigh in has been to beef up my little pipsqueak son. I have been offering him food practically every five minutes. Yummy things like french toast, vanilla cookies, strawberry shakes, bananas, yogurt... All things that I would LOVE to eat but can't because I'm on a diet. He's refused every. single. one. He's now beginning to refuse the old standbys: grapes, sliced turkey, cheddar cheese, cheerios... It seems the more I try to feed him, the less he eats. I don't get it. I'm even more frustrated, because yesterday and today he's got the runs and he won't drink his pedialite. I am freaking out. I must be a pretty bad mom if I can't get my son to engage in the most primitive of human activities. Eating. Have my neuroses about food somehow transferred to him, even at this early of an age?
Last night I cut up a boiled egg thinking he'd have fun playing with it, and maybe some of the smushed up yolk might make it into his mouth by accident. After flinging most of his dinner offerings onto the floor, including most of the egg, suddenly, he began to put some in his mouth.
"Look!" I whispered to John, "He's eating!"
"Good"
"Shhhh! No sudden movements! We don't want to distract him!"
We both sat at the dinner table for several minutes in silence watching Alex tentatively put boiled egg whites into his mouth. Then, moved on to a single shred of cheese. I was elated, when suddenly and without warning, he began frantically grabbing food from his tray and putting it in his lap and on the high chair.
I have a feeling I'm not going to win this war.
