My online journal.

Monday, April 25, 2005

Pants at 7 months. Photo by Peg Speth. Posted by Hello

New funny thing she does!

We're feeding Lucy dinner last night: oatmeal, carrots and peaches, I think. She's ravenous, since she refused to eat much of her previous two bottles of milk. Which means that I have exactly three seconds from the time I deposit one spoonful of glop into her mouth, until the next spoonful arrives lipside, before she starts to squawk.
Now, she's always been good about opening her mouth for the spoon. But last night she started, in Joel's words, "taking it to the next level" by kind of, well, trying to open her mouth sideways as well. Urgh! It's so hard to describe. So here's an exercise:
Open your mouth wide (as you would if someone were spoon-feeding you).
Pull the muscles of your lower lip sideways, kind of large-mouth bass-like.

That's what she was doing. I'm not sure if she thought she could get more food that way, or what, but it was soooo funny.


It was kind of an exhausting weekend at our house. We didn't have any set plans, or even goals in mind (like "re-roof the house" or "paint the bathroom" or "flush the toilet"), and although sometimes this unstructured approach works well, sometimes we just end up waking up Monday morning with sorted piles of dirty laundry and Dorito crumbs between our toes.
One of the toughest parts about spring weekends is the unpredictability of the weather. It could have been 80 and sunny, or it could easily have snowed. Or it could do both, within about three hours. This weekend was kind of sneaky, with the previous week all lovely and warm, and us waking up on Saturday to happy sunshiny... and 35 degrees. Yipes! And Lucy just wasn't herself this weekend -- crying uncontrollably but then refusing to eat... waking up at 4 AM... it just wasn't the same Lucy we've grown to know and REALLY APPRECIATE in the last couple of months. Well, she started the weekend with SIX POOPS on Friday, and it was kind of downhill from there. We think she might be teething or something. Poor hoot. But otherwise she's really an angel. She sat and watched Jean and Joel and I hit softballs at each other on Sunday (only occasionally commenting on our respective swings), and she *did* wolf down anything we tried to feed her that didn't come in a bottle -- go figure.

My good deed for the weekend was taking Hobo and the Watsons' chocolate lab Sonja for a walk on Sunday morning. The first two blocks were the toughest, with Hobo in full-bore pulling mode and Sonja chomping madly on her leash. We did settle into a nice pace, though, until the LAST two blocks when we came upon a ceramic Cocker Spaniel in a neighbor's yard. Holy buckets, for a ceramic dog, she sure whipped Hobo and Sonja into a frenzy. I wound up at the Watsons' front door with one leash around my ankles and my left elbow pinned behind my ear.

So here it is Monday morning and due to the unsettled weather and my aching hips and shins I am wearing the closest thing to pajamas, a decidedly anti-springy black-on-black ensemble guaranteed to make me look as though I've dropped those last 5 pounds of baby weight, which I assure you I most certainly have NOT dropped and I'll thank you not to mention it again.

Softball starts tonight. Can't wait!!

Friday, April 22, 2005

I wrote this last Friday and never posted it.

...And it hardly seems worth it to post it now. But I'm gonna.
I have The Vapors greatest hits CD in my player at work right now. Who? You ask. You know, the one-hit '80s wonders who gave us the classic "Turning Japanese." Anyway, it's actually a pretty good pop CD! It starts with "Turning Japanese," and features a rousing "Waiting for the Weekend" (perfect for Friday!) and something called "Jimmy Jones" which, with their British accents, sounds like "Jimmy John's" which is a chain sandwich place whose quality products and chipper staff make me very happy.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

An Exercise In Futility

So Joel's in Atlanta this week on business, giving me the perfect opportunity to prove my Superwomanness. Perfect mom, perfect housekeeper, perfect dog-owner, perfect marketing client service specialist for creative services... I can't wait!

This morning I leap out of bed at 5:23 on the nose, bound and determined to get a fresh start on the day. OK, it was less of a leap and more of a drag, since I'd already hit snooze twice, but ONLY twice and not three times like normal. And I hadn't actually snoozed since the alarm first went off, because Hobo was scratching his freshly-shaven (shaven?) neck and shaking the entire bed in the process. But! Just got to get Lucy and myself dressed in identical pink ensembles and trot out the door!

After deciding TO make coffee (cons: it takes a couple minutes, and there's only me drinking it so it will have to be a very small pot, and I'll have to remember to turn it off ... pros: I NEED COFFEE), and letting Hobo out, and feeding him, and building a bowl of oatmeal with sprinkles for myself, Lucy starts to cry. "Thank goodness," I think, because it means she hasn't smothered in the night, which is always good because it freaks me out a little how she can go from wide-awake at 7:57 PM, to rubbing-her-eyes-with-her-little-fists at 7:59, to placed in her crib at 8:00 and making not a single peep until 5:50 AM. It's just not natural.

So I quick grab the paper from the front walk and then fill up the sink with hot water to wash the dishes with, because I'm Super Mom!! and I let Hobo out again, but there are still some adorable hacking noises coming from the baby's room, so I go in and feed her. These morning feedings are the BEST -- no fussing, no fighting, just businesslike eating. Plus then I don't feel like I have two overstuffed balloons popping out of my chest wall.

It's 6:10 by the time we're done, so I lay Lucy back in her crib (it's still dark in her room, thanks to the quilts we've clipped over the windows because those super-cute dragonfly curtains do NOTHING to ward off sunlight and we haven't had a free moment to purchase proper shades) and turn on her little bubbling musical fishy thing. I hop in the shower, then get dressed and hair-gelled and toothbrushed and I hear the music turning on and off in the crib so I know Lucy hasn't smothered.

"Yo, mom, about this diaper!"

Right! I strip Lucy of her jammies and soggy Pampers and select an outfit that doesn't match mine AT ALL; in fact it barely matches itself, and pry her into it. I haul the exersaucer (her "office") into the kitchen and put Lucy in it, and I realize I have no lunch packed, nor have the dishes washed themselves yet. Strange, and I also have no lipstick on. And it's 6:45, the time I'm supposed to be walking out the door. ARGGH! I cannot imagine how single parents manage. At all.

Anyway, it's Wendy's for lunch for me, and I'm guessing the dishes will still be there when Joel gets back tomorrow. I CAN'T WAIT.