I sing. I think most of you know that about me. What you might not
know is that there was a whole time in my life when I didn't sing. My
family always encouraged me to sing, but then, right before I turned
18, I was given very pointed evidence that not everyone enjoyed it
when I went around singing at the top of my lungs. At the time I
didn't understand (I suspect I understand better now - there are few
things as downright annoying as listening to one of your favorite rock
songs being sung in a choral way) but I felt thoroughly embarrassed,
and I slowly stopped singing, first in front of the people I knew it
bothered, and then, over time, in front of almost everyone except my
family who, as I said, had always been supportive.
In retrospect that may have been one of the silliest things I've ever
done. I started singing again (without restraint) when I was pregnant,
at first I had to make myself do it, I had gotten so out of practice.
Eventually I managed to get back in the habit, and I hadn't realized
how much I missed it. Now my little boy is old enough to listen to
me, and he LOVES it when I sing. To think I almost turned myself into
a person who doesn't sing. And for what reason? I don't know.
Why do any of us twist ourselves like pretzels into people we aren't?
I am not, by nature, a housekeeper. I am very motherly, and I enjoy
hostessing, and I enjoy cooking - in these ways I think I fit the
profile of a homemaker - but I never thought (possibly because I never
thought it through) that being a full time mother would, by necessity,
force me into the role of being a full time housekeeper, as well. Not
only do I not like it (it makes me want to don an apron and pop Valium
like candy) but I have to admit, I kind of suck at it. I am a BAD
housekeeper. I always thought I could do anything I set my mind to,
and perhaps I can, and I have simply refused to set my mind to keeping
house, but whatever the reason it cannot be denied, I am AWFUL at the
little details to house keeping. I am best at doing the laundry, and
worst at doing the dishes, but I'm not really good at any of it. I
have spent the past year battering against the injustice of having to
BE the housekeeper, I never thought to just accept it and then accept
that I am bad at it. I imagine it will infuriate Waxor no less to
have me say "yup, I suck at doing dishes" instead of saying "why don't
YOU do them", but perhaps it is time for both of us to just accept
that, whether I deserve it or not, I am clearly stuck with this job
AND, whether I am stuck with it or not, I clearly am no good at it.
I suppose I do not have to be good at this thing. But I keep getting
told that it is part of being a mother, and to see a sink full of
dishes somehow then makes me feel like a failure as a mommy. And what
kind of sense does that make? None, but there it is.
I feel trapped inside my head these days. So many thoughts swirling
around in there, and Elliot doesn't understand them, and they don't
interest Waxor, and so they pile up and pile up until I feel like I'm
going to explode. I admit that many of them are homey, domestic
thoughts. What's the right temperature for Elliot's room to make sure
he sleeps well? What can I do about the ever growing sprawl of toys
(both baby and adult) that is taking over our living room? How many
loads of laundry is that, so far? But many of them aren't. I think
about going back to church, not because I want to be a Christian, but
because I feel the need to have people in my daily life who think we
are more than just lumps of clay. I love my friends, and I am not
interested in changing who they are or what they believe, but I find
that my need for (half of you are going to cringe when I say this, I'm
sorry) spiritual support is just not met at the moment. Right or
wrong, I BELIEVE there is more to us then highly complex carbon, and I
need to have some outlet for that. So I think about going to a church,
but then I always decide not to, because I don't ever want to hear
another "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God" sermon ever again.
I think about doing something besides being a homemaker. Having now
HAD a baby I'm not sure I want to make it my livelihood to witness
other women doing the same thing. But I think I might have made a good
therapist. Maybe not, I don't suppose I'm actually qualified to say,
but it would have been interesting, certainly. And I figure it's too
late for that, because, even if I went back to school, the cost of
education is... prohibitive. I think about going through everything
I;ve ever written, and trying to sift out some interesting things that
are worth developing. But I fear to set that as a goal for myself,
because then I am afraid that people will ask me "How's that coming?"
And judge me if I haven't found the time for it.
Waxor asked me recently "What is it that you do?" Not to be mean, or
to hurt my feelings, he just wanted to know what I do that makes me a
person worthy of interest, as opposed to just a living, breathing milk
production and diaper changing assembly. I couldn't answer him. I
mean, I know how I fill my days, and I know that I find at least some
of what I do interesting (not the laundry party, but, y'know, OTHER
parts) but I did not know what would make me of interest to anyone
else.
Coury gave me Mamma Mia for Christmas, and I watched it with my
family. I love the movie, but it made me wistful. The women, and
their friendship, specifically, made me wistful. The women that I
have that kind of connection with are scattered all over the place,
and many of them I haven't seen in years (although thankfully I have
seen some of you more recently). I think women need their girlfriends
more than they ever suspect, until they don't have them by their side
anymore.
A bit pensive, aren't I? Bet you were expecting a letter full of baby
news, weren't you? Well, here's a bit:
Elliot can walk, but mostly refuses to do so. I think he figures why
bother when crawling is faster and holding on to an adult is more fun.
But he can, so one of these days, when he makes up his mind to do it,
that will be that.
He really enjoyed our trip to Nicaragua, as did I. He did a lot while
he was there (including learning how to get off of something
backwards) but the thing that was most a relief for me was that while
there he generally woke up only once or maybe twice a night. It was
great. Of course, now that we're back he's back to his old schedule, I
think the cold really bothers him.
He can turn around and slide off our bed, a legacy of learning to go
down the step backwards over Christmas.
He's more and more talkative, he uses a lot of his own made up words,
but he seems to be working very hard on actually pronouncing "Dada"
"Dog" and "Cat". At the moment the differences are slight ("Dada"
"Daaaah(gk)" and "Dadt") but they get clearer all the time. Still no
"mama" but I hold out hope.
He's learning to go to sleep without nursing or sucking on my finger.
Mostly that means that we go, and he nurses and gets almost all the
way asleep, and then I take my finger away and he drifts off without
it, but it's progress. Last night he was having a really hard time
sleeping (I think he's teething) and I would go in and he wouldn't
want to nurse or have my finger, he just wanted to roll over and hug
me while he slept. It was really sweet.
He is, at the moment, being incredibly cranky, so I may need to take a
break and go put him down for a nap...
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Nov 18, 2008
Oh my god, i am so tired I think I am going to collapse in a little heap.
Elliot is sick. He has a virus. I feel bad for him, while at the same
time selfishly wanting him to get better JUST SO I CAN SLEEP AT NIGHT.
Every night in the middle of the night his fever shoots up, and then
he can't sleep, so up gets Mommy, and there's rocking, and there's
nursing, and there's pain reliever, and there's sometimes a cool bath,
and then, about an hour and a half later, he goes back to sleep.
I think I'm gonna die.
On the positive front, the Dr tells me these things normally last only
about 72-84 hours, so tonight should be the last night I have to deal
with it. Unless Elliot chooses to be exceptional.
While I sit in the rocking chair in the middle of the night, trying
not to start crying right along with Elliot, I think of things I am
going to write in my next life in the slow lane email. Then I forget
them, because it's three o'clock in the friggin morning, what do you
expect? But I have remembered a couple of things:
I have some bits of advice I'm going to start giving to expectant
parents, and I thought I would share them with all of you, for your
approval.
1) Don't ever talk to anyone about how THEIR child slept/is sleeping.
If their child is now 37 years old and has never slept through the
night yet it will fill you with despair; and if their baby is already
sleeping through the night at the ripe age of 5 days old it will make
you re-think your position on gun control laws.
2) In a corollary, do not let anyone give you advice on how to make
your baby sleep better. Person A will solemnly tell you that feeding
your darling offspring horse dung three times a day will make them
sleep like a rock, and Person B will just as solemnly tell you that
feeding your baby horse dung will actually magically transform them
into a Cthulhu-like squid being. They are BOTH WRONG. Everyone knows
that feeding your baby horse dung grants them the ability to fly and
sprinkle fairy dust, but has no effect on their sleeping habits.
3) One day your charming, magical, delightful, wonderful baby will sit
in the middle of the floor and scream for 15 minutes because you
handed him the blue spoon when he wanted the red spoon. Don't take it
personally. He's learning to express himself. Once he understands
English you will get your turn to express YOURself. When that chance
comes attempt to keep the swearing to a minimum.
4) Wear pants with a fitted waist band, a belt, or at least a
drawstring. Just trust me on this one.
5) Tiny hands that crawl on the floor in winter get VERY cold. Guard your bits.
I'm sure there were more of these, but I think I've forgotten most of them.
Elliot is refusing to walk. I'm not really sure why, it's clear that
he can - he does it when he forgets he's doing it, and he can walk
really fast just barely holding on to one of my hands - he just
doesn't WANT to. It's okay with me, I know he'll get around to it
eventually, but he was so DESPERATE to walk just a few months ago, it
seems odd that he's stalled out now that the only thing keeping him
from walking is lack of will.
What else on the Elliot front? He's taller, he can't walk under the
table anymore without banging his head (umm, when I say walk I mean
holding on to a chair, since, clearly, we just covered that he's not
ACTUALLY walking.) Waxor thinks he's getting another tooth in, but I
haven't seen it yet, and don't care enough to go looking for it. He's
eating a wide variety of things, or rather, he was four days ago
before he started to get sick. He LOVES music, and will start waving
his hands rhythmically whenever a song he likes is playing. Oh, and
he's finally made friends with Chimbasa, through the expedient
procedure of taking at least half of all of his food and throwing it
on the floor. Needless to say, Bito now follows him around devotedly.
Waxor is slightly less tired than I am. He's getting a lot more
sleep, but he's far less used to having it interrupted, and it has
been for the past three nights, so he's pretty wiped. He still has a
job, and will until at least after the new year, but if things aren't
looking up for Skyward at that point he'll probably go ahead adn start
looking for something new. He's been spending most of his time that
he isn't at work playing World of Warcraft, the expansion pack came
out last Thursday and it's been difficult to tear him away. :) His
family is coming down for Thanksgiving, it's nice that they live close
enough to do that.
MY family visit is a little less than a month away at this point. I
can't wait to take Elliot to Nicaragua for the first time. I'm kind
of getting overloaded trying to make sure I don't forget anything he's
going to need in Nica, I'm kinda in winter mode right now, and will
liekly totally fail to pack appropriately. Speaking of which, Momma
and Been, expect an email asking some questions maybe later today.
Now I am going to go pick up the living room, which looks something
like a yogurt covered tornado hit it.
Yeah, go ahead try to visualize that.
Elliot is sick. He has a virus. I feel bad for him, while at the same
time selfishly wanting him to get better JUST SO I CAN SLEEP AT NIGHT.
Every night in the middle of the night his fever shoots up, and then
he can't sleep, so up gets Mommy, and there's rocking, and there's
nursing, and there's pain reliever, and there's sometimes a cool bath,
and then, about an hour and a half later, he goes back to sleep.
I think I'm gonna die.
On the positive front, the Dr tells me these things normally last only
about 72-84 hours, so tonight should be the last night I have to deal
with it. Unless Elliot chooses to be exceptional.
While I sit in the rocking chair in the middle of the night, trying
not to start crying right along with Elliot, I think of things I am
going to write in my next life in the slow lane email. Then I forget
them, because it's three o'clock in the friggin morning, what do you
expect? But I have remembered a couple of things:
I have some bits of advice I'm going to start giving to expectant
parents, and I thought I would share them with all of you, for your
approval.
1) Don't ever talk to anyone about how THEIR child slept/is sleeping.
If their child is now 37 years old and has never slept through the
night yet it will fill you with despair; and if their baby is already
sleeping through the night at the ripe age of 5 days old it will make
you re-think your position on gun control laws.
2) In a corollary, do not let anyone give you advice on how to make
your baby sleep better. Person A will solemnly tell you that feeding
your darling offspring horse dung three times a day will make them
sleep like a rock, and Person B will just as solemnly tell you that
feeding your baby horse dung will actually magically transform them
into a Cthulhu-like squid being. They are BOTH WRONG. Everyone knows
that feeding your baby horse dung grants them the ability to fly and
sprinkle fairy dust, but has no effect on their sleeping habits.
3) One day your charming, magical, delightful, wonderful baby will sit
in the middle of the floor and scream for 15 minutes because you
handed him the blue spoon when he wanted the red spoon. Don't take it
personally. He's learning to express himself. Once he understands
English you will get your turn to express YOURself. When that chance
comes attempt to keep the swearing to a minimum.
4) Wear pants with a fitted waist band, a belt, or at least a
drawstring. Just trust me on this one.
5) Tiny hands that crawl on the floor in winter get VERY cold. Guard your bits.
I'm sure there were more of these, but I think I've forgotten most of them.
Elliot is refusing to walk. I'm not really sure why, it's clear that
he can - he does it when he forgets he's doing it, and he can walk
really fast just barely holding on to one of my hands - he just
doesn't WANT to. It's okay with me, I know he'll get around to it
eventually, but he was so DESPERATE to walk just a few months ago, it
seems odd that he's stalled out now that the only thing keeping him
from walking is lack of will.
What else on the Elliot front? He's taller, he can't walk under the
table anymore without banging his head (umm, when I say walk I mean
holding on to a chair, since, clearly, we just covered that he's not
ACTUALLY walking.) Waxor thinks he's getting another tooth in, but I
haven't seen it yet, and don't care enough to go looking for it. He's
eating a wide variety of things, or rather, he was four days ago
before he started to get sick. He LOVES music, and will start waving
his hands rhythmically whenever a song he likes is playing. Oh, and
he's finally made friends with Chimbasa, through the expedient
procedure of taking at least half of all of his food and throwing it
on the floor. Needless to say, Bito now follows him around devotedly.
Waxor is slightly less tired than I am. He's getting a lot more
sleep, but he's far less used to having it interrupted, and it has
been for the past three nights, so he's pretty wiped. He still has a
job, and will until at least after the new year, but if things aren't
looking up for Skyward at that point he'll probably go ahead adn start
looking for something new. He's been spending most of his time that
he isn't at work playing World of Warcraft, the expansion pack came
out last Thursday and it's been difficult to tear him away. :) His
family is coming down for Thanksgiving, it's nice that they live close
enough to do that.
MY family visit is a little less than a month away at this point. I
can't wait to take Elliot to Nicaragua for the first time. I'm kind
of getting overloaded trying to make sure I don't forget anything he's
going to need in Nica, I'm kinda in winter mode right now, and will
liekly totally fail to pack appropriately. Speaking of which, Momma
and Been, expect an email asking some questions maybe later today.
Now I am going to go pick up the living room, which looks something
like a yogurt covered tornado hit it.
Yeah, go ahead try to visualize that.
Media
For pictures, head here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/27665754@N05/
For videos go here:
http://www.youtube.com/user/Manzmomz
http://www.flickr.com/photos/27665754@N05/
For videos go here:
http://www.youtube.com/user/Manzmomz
Oct 27, 2008
Elliot has a tooth. Just one so far, but as cranky as he's being I
imagine another one can't be far behind. It's playing merry hell with
my sleep - last night he woke up and cried for an hour and a half
because I couldn't get him back to sleep. It's hard, I go from
feeling bad for him to feeling exasperated that he doesn't just settle
down and go to sleep, to feeling bad that I lost patience, to feeling
exhausted and wishing I could go back to bed, to remembering that I
used to be a competent woman who had a life of her own. Now sometimes
I just feel like a walking mess.
And I notice the oddest things. For instance, Elliot and I were
watching Barney today (Teletubbies is off the air at the moment, and
so we've moved on to the big purple dinosaur as his daily TV fix) and
Barney was singing this song. The song is all about trying, and, if
you try long enough and hard enough, eventually you will get what you
are trying right. While he singing this song, three kids are enacting
"the Sword in the Sandbox" (a sword in the stone rip-off) and trying
to pull a sword out of a pile of sand. And failing. Miserably. Over
and over and over again. Because, of course, they are not the ones
destined to pull it out. The little kitchen boy is. So, eventually,
"Artie" gets to "try" and he, of course, succeeds. And the moral of
the episode is, keep trying, and you'll get it eventually. Except what
stuck with me is that there were three poor little kids who tried
their damnedest to get that friggen sword out and couldn't do it, no
matter what.
Clearly I am not learning the intended moral lesson here, because it
seems to me like they're saying "If you weren't born to do something,
you can try as hard as you want and you're still gonna fail."
And that seems like a bad message for a children's show, doesn't it?
10/24
HOLY CRAP talk about being derailed. I started this email September
19th, and, clearly, it's taken me a while to finish it.
Elliot has five teeth now. That's right, FIVE, and he's used at least
one of them to bite me. Ouch. he also uses them to eat with - this
morning, for the very first time, I gave him a bagel round with cream
cheese and he bit into it and chewed it up, instead of just waiting
for it to dissolve enough so that he could swallow. As I type this I
am pausing periodically to give him bites of cheesecake (yes, I know
what you're all thinking, but it's homemade cheesecake and light on
the sugar, so I don't really care).
The Dr thinks I'm starving him - he's dropped to the 5th percentile in
weight - but I just keep saying "have you SEEN his father?" Also, the
pediatrician seems to be under the impression that all I have to do to
get him to eat more is to just offer him food. Let me assure you, this
is not the case. Elliot is like his dad - he won't eat just to eat. It
has to be something he really LIKES. So grapes? Yeah. Apples? Sure.
Cheezits? Oh boy! Cheesecake? Yipee Skipee!!!! Turkey?
No thanks.
10/26
It's hard to get a block of time to sit down and type this thing, but
I'm determined to get it out this week. Now...
MY BABY IS WALKING. That's right. Hand him stuff to hold and he will
take four or five unsteady steps for you. We've got a video of it on
the camera, so at some point I'll be posting that to youtube.
10/27
Elliot is down for a nap so I am finishing this thing and sending it
out. Ready? here we go...
Waxor still has a job. They're about to get some investments that
will tide them over for another 6 months, but if they haven't made
significant improvements in the next three months he'll start looking
for another job.
Living in the same house with Fuzzy and Dante is awesome thus far. I
don't have to cook every night and I have someone to go talk to when I
get tired of being alone. Also, it doesn't hurt that they have a
dishwasher. :)
We're having a housewarming party on Halloween. If you live north of
the Mason Dixon line and East of the Mississippi I see no reason that
you shouldn't be here, so please RSVP in the affirmative immediately.
Now it's time for me to go finish unpacking the office, at which point
I will, HALLELUJAH, finally be done.
imagine another one can't be far behind. It's playing merry hell with
my sleep - last night he woke up and cried for an hour and a half
because I couldn't get him back to sleep. It's hard, I go from
feeling bad for him to feeling exasperated that he doesn't just settle
down and go to sleep, to feeling bad that I lost patience, to feeling
exhausted and wishing I could go back to bed, to remembering that I
used to be a competent woman who had a life of her own. Now sometimes
I just feel like a walking mess.
And I notice the oddest things. For instance, Elliot and I were
watching Barney today (Teletubbies is off the air at the moment, and
so we've moved on to the big purple dinosaur as his daily TV fix) and
Barney was singing this song. The song is all about trying, and, if
you try long enough and hard enough, eventually you will get what you
are trying right. While he singing this song, three kids are enacting
"the Sword in the Sandbox" (a sword in the stone rip-off) and trying
to pull a sword out of a pile of sand. And failing. Miserably. Over
and over and over again. Because, of course, they are not the ones
destined to pull it out. The little kitchen boy is. So, eventually,
"Artie" gets to "try" and he, of course, succeeds. And the moral of
the episode is, keep trying, and you'll get it eventually. Except what
stuck with me is that there were three poor little kids who tried
their damnedest to get that friggen sword out and couldn't do it, no
matter what.
Clearly I am not learning the intended moral lesson here, because it
seems to me like they're saying "If you weren't born to do something,
you can try as hard as you want and you're still gonna fail."
And that seems like a bad message for a children's show, doesn't it?
10/24
HOLY CRAP talk about being derailed. I started this email September
19th, and, clearly, it's taken me a while to finish it.
Elliot has five teeth now. That's right, FIVE, and he's used at least
one of them to bite me. Ouch. he also uses them to eat with - this
morning, for the very first time, I gave him a bagel round with cream
cheese and he bit into it and chewed it up, instead of just waiting
for it to dissolve enough so that he could swallow. As I type this I
am pausing periodically to give him bites of cheesecake (yes, I know
what you're all thinking, but it's homemade cheesecake and light on
the sugar, so I don't really care).
The Dr thinks I'm starving him - he's dropped to the 5th percentile in
weight - but I just keep saying "have you SEEN his father?" Also, the
pediatrician seems to be under the impression that all I have to do to
get him to eat more is to just offer him food. Let me assure you, this
is not the case. Elliot is like his dad - he won't eat just to eat. It
has to be something he really LIKES. So grapes? Yeah. Apples? Sure.
Cheezits? Oh boy! Cheesecake? Yipee Skipee!!!! Turkey?
No thanks.
10/26
It's hard to get a block of time to sit down and type this thing, but
I'm determined to get it out this week. Now...
MY BABY IS WALKING. That's right. Hand him stuff to hold and he will
take four or five unsteady steps for you. We've got a video of it on
the camera, so at some point I'll be posting that to youtube.
10/27
Elliot is down for a nap so I am finishing this thing and sending it
out. Ready? here we go...
Waxor still has a job. They're about to get some investments that
will tide them over for another 6 months, but if they haven't made
significant improvements in the next three months he'll start looking
for another job.
Living in the same house with Fuzzy and Dante is awesome thus far. I
don't have to cook every night and I have someone to go talk to when I
get tired of being alone. Also, it doesn't hurt that they have a
dishwasher. :)
We're having a housewarming party on Halloween. If you live north of
the Mason Dixon line and East of the Mississippi I see no reason that
you shouldn't be here, so please RSVP in the affirmative immediately.
Now it's time for me to go finish unpacking the office, at which point
I will, HALLELUJAH, finally be done.
Sep 7, 2008
Hello friends and neighbors!
No, that is NOT just a figure of speech, two of the people receiving
this email will soon be my upstairs neighbors. That's right, Fuzzy
and Dante are moving to Woburn (WoooHOOOOO) and we've found a duplex
that, magically, has both apartments available at once, and,
shockingly, has a landlord that seems incredibly invested in the place
and in putting the type of people we happen to be in it. He says we
can compost, garden, paint, and, in general, be our happy little
selves. He's got a gas grill he leaves at the place, a washer and
dryer in the basement, no objection to pets or children or anything.
Yipee skipee.
AND, possibly most importantly, as he is very interested in
conservation he has outfitted the entire house with double insulation
and double paned + storm glass windows.
Our lease starts on the 15th of September, and Fuzzy and Dante should
be getting here right around then, but since Waxor and I have this
apartment until Oct 1st we will be doing a slower move. However, I
imagine we'll go ahead and put our names on the mailbox, so, as of
September 15th, feel free to send any mail to:
15 App Ct
Woburn, MA 01801
Now, on to other topics...
Elliot and I made it all the way to SC and back without too many
mishaps. Of course, on the way down we spent an extra six hours in the
airport due to weather delays, and our luggage got lost, and Elliot
was way confused at the sudden disappearance of EVERYTHING HE'S EVER
KNOWN, but, all aside, it was still a nice trip. Coury was
successfully taken to school (I will refrain from doing a dramatic
rendition of Been dropping Coury off. :))So far he isn't thrilled but
seems to be coping just fine. Of course, I would know if that's
really accurate or not if HE WOULD EVER CALL OR WRITE ME. (Edit at a
later date, he has now called me, and I am on his list to call
frequently, so I should really take this back) I mean, it's not like
he has anything better to do, right? RIGHT?
Elliot made his debut among the NC/SC crowd to rave revues on his
cuteness level, and a sudden burst of shyness on his part. Sigh.
Wouldn't you just know it? The boy would wander off cheerfully with a
total stranger for the first six months of his life, and as soon as I
go to show him off he gets all clingy. Ah well.
Of course, by the time we got home he was exhausted, and we had two
pretty unhappy days until finally I just parked myself on the couch
for the majority of one day and let him sleep on my lap. It wasn't
the most entertaining day of my life, but he woke up a much happier
little guy.
And I, in the meantime, had the extreme misfortune of being exposed to
the show "Date my ex."
Now, I will be the first to admit that, when stuck under a baby on the
couch, I will watch just about anything on TV. That's how I ended up
seeing the majority of "Making the Band 4". However, even I have
certain standards, so it was with a tiny screaming corner of my soul
dying of shame that I found myself watching Date My Ex. This wretched
ambergris of a program is based around two people; Jo - whose mother
must have been a Little Women fan, I can only assume she thanks
whatever deity she prays to on a daily basis that she isn't named
Marmee - and Slade. That's right, Slade. What is he, a Final Fantasy
Character? Jo and Slade used to date, but now he's helping her find a
new boyfriend. Except, of course, that it is blindingly obvious from
about the first episode that the whole damn thing is a set up for them
to get back together. Now, I know that reality TV is so fake it could
probably be used to stuff Carmen Electra's implants, but I at least
think it ought to LOOK like they don't have a script they're
following.
Sigh.
(Fast forward several days, I've been busy)
Elliot is crawling now. It happened this morning. He's been close for
days, but today was the day. I put him in the middle of the living
room floor, and he headed for the kitchen to play with, I thought, his
toys that were right in the doorway. So I kept and eye on him while I
checked my email, and he seemed really happy. When I was done with my
email reading I went to say hi, only to find that he was not, in fact,
playing with the toys. Sure, they were scattered around him, but also
scattered around him was most of the food from Chimbasa's dog dish.
As I came up and said "Oh my god, Elliot" he looked up at me, smiled a
big smile, and then turned back and very seriously stuck his fist in
the food side, swirled it around, then stuck it in the water side,
swirled it around, and then repeated a swirl on the food side. Then
he smiled at me again, as if to say "See, that's what I've been doing,
aren't I clever?"
So now he's much happier on the floor playing than he used to be,
although he still likes to walk a lot. He's getting better at that,
too. If I walk him between the two couches he'll even walk with just
one hand holding on to mine, and the other grabbing things of
interest. Such a clever little guy.
What else? He started taking longer daytime naps all on his own,
without my interference. The morning one almost always is about 1.5
hours, and the afternoon one is normally the same, only sometimes I
have to help him fall back asleep halfway through. Still, it's a great
improvement over the 1/2 hour naps he used to take. Now if only he'll
get his night sleep straightened out. Something, growth spurt,
teething, SOMETHING, is making him wake up ALOT more at night, and I'm
anxious for him to go back to his fewer wake ups.
Waxor is pretty happy these days, because he got his anniversary
present from me early. I got him a Wii Fit, and he's been playing with
it and the Wii pretty much non-stop. Skyward had another "oh crap,
maybe we're running out of money" this past week, but someone is
giving them money for at least another month. We had decided he was
going to go ahead and look for a new job, but since they've gotten the
money he's changed his mind. He really likes working for them, plus,
you know, he really hates looking for a new job, so... I guess we'll
wait til the next time they think they're out of money.
He is having a lot more fun with Elliot, too. Elliot is so much more
aware than he used to be, and Waxor's enjoying it.
And me... I am looking forward to moving in someplace that I can
paint. Since I moved from home everywhere I've lived has been painted
an awful off white color, and I'm pretty thrilled that I finally get
to actually decide what colors I want my walls to be.
I'm hoping that Momma will get to help me paint (this pretty much has
to do if we can get into the apartment while she's here) She's coming
on Wed and will be here for almost a week, to drool over her grandson
and , well, that's pretty much it. I mean, I suppose she'll be happy
to see me, and she might notice Waxor, but mostly I'm thinking they'll
be plenty of grandbaby drool.
(Side note, Elliot and Waxor are playing Wii Tennis right now, Waxor
swings and Elliot stares first at the TV, and then at the Wiimote,
which makes beeping noises)
Okay, Waxor is getting his butt kicked by the Wii, so I have to go help him.
No, that is NOT just a figure of speech, two of the people receiving
this email will soon be my upstairs neighbors. That's right, Fuzzy
and Dante are moving to Woburn (WoooHOOOOO) and we've found a duplex
that, magically, has both apartments available at once, and,
shockingly, has a landlord that seems incredibly invested in the place
and in putting the type of people we happen to be in it. He says we
can compost, garden, paint, and, in general, be our happy little
selves. He's got a gas grill he leaves at the place, a washer and
dryer in the basement, no objection to pets or children or anything.
Yipee skipee.
AND, possibly most importantly, as he is very interested in
conservation he has outfitted the entire house with double insulation
and double paned + storm glass windows.
Our lease starts on the 15th of September, and Fuzzy and Dante should
be getting here right around then, but since Waxor and I have this
apartment until Oct 1st we will be doing a slower move. However, I
imagine we'll go ahead and put our names on the mailbox, so, as of
September 15th, feel free to send any mail to:
15 App Ct
Woburn, MA 01801
Now, on to other topics...
Elliot and I made it all the way to SC and back without too many
mishaps. Of course, on the way down we spent an extra six hours in the
airport due to weather delays, and our luggage got lost, and Elliot
was way confused at the sudden disappearance of EVERYTHING HE'S EVER
KNOWN, but, all aside, it was still a nice trip. Coury was
successfully taken to school (I will refrain from doing a dramatic
rendition of Been dropping Coury off. :))So far he isn't thrilled but
seems to be coping just fine. Of course, I would know if that's
really accurate or not if HE WOULD EVER CALL OR WRITE ME. (Edit at a
later date, he has now called me, and I am on his list to call
frequently, so I should really take this back) I mean, it's not like
he has anything better to do, right? RIGHT?
Elliot made his debut among the NC/SC crowd to rave revues on his
cuteness level, and a sudden burst of shyness on his part. Sigh.
Wouldn't you just know it? The boy would wander off cheerfully with a
total stranger for the first six months of his life, and as soon as I
go to show him off he gets all clingy. Ah well.
Of course, by the time we got home he was exhausted, and we had two
pretty unhappy days until finally I just parked myself on the couch
for the majority of one day and let him sleep on my lap. It wasn't
the most entertaining day of my life, but he woke up a much happier
little guy.
And I, in the meantime, had the extreme misfortune of being exposed to
the show "Date my ex."
Now, I will be the first to admit that, when stuck under a baby on the
couch, I will watch just about anything on TV. That's how I ended up
seeing the majority of "Making the Band 4". However, even I have
certain standards, so it was with a tiny screaming corner of my soul
dying of shame that I found myself watching Date My Ex. This wretched
ambergris of a program is based around two people; Jo - whose mother
must have been a Little Women fan, I can only assume she thanks
whatever deity she prays to on a daily basis that she isn't named
Marmee - and Slade. That's right, Slade. What is he, a Final Fantasy
Character? Jo and Slade used to date, but now he's helping her find a
new boyfriend. Except, of course, that it is blindingly obvious from
about the first episode that the whole damn thing is a set up for them
to get back together. Now, I know that reality TV is so fake it could
probably be used to stuff Carmen Electra's implants, but I at least
think it ought to LOOK like they don't have a script they're
following.
Sigh.
(Fast forward several days, I've been busy)
Elliot is crawling now. It happened this morning. He's been close for
days, but today was the day. I put him in the middle of the living
room floor, and he headed for the kitchen to play with, I thought, his
toys that were right in the doorway. So I kept and eye on him while I
checked my email, and he seemed really happy. When I was done with my
email reading I went to say hi, only to find that he was not, in fact,
playing with the toys. Sure, they were scattered around him, but also
scattered around him was most of the food from Chimbasa's dog dish.
As I came up and said "Oh my god, Elliot" he looked up at me, smiled a
big smile, and then turned back and very seriously stuck his fist in
the food side, swirled it around, then stuck it in the water side,
swirled it around, and then repeated a swirl on the food side. Then
he smiled at me again, as if to say "See, that's what I've been doing,
aren't I clever?"
So now he's much happier on the floor playing than he used to be,
although he still likes to walk a lot. He's getting better at that,
too. If I walk him between the two couches he'll even walk with just
one hand holding on to mine, and the other grabbing things of
interest. Such a clever little guy.
What else? He started taking longer daytime naps all on his own,
without my interference. The morning one almost always is about 1.5
hours, and the afternoon one is normally the same, only sometimes I
have to help him fall back asleep halfway through. Still, it's a great
improvement over the 1/2 hour naps he used to take. Now if only he'll
get his night sleep straightened out. Something, growth spurt,
teething, SOMETHING, is making him wake up ALOT more at night, and I'm
anxious for him to go back to his fewer wake ups.
Waxor is pretty happy these days, because he got his anniversary
present from me early. I got him a Wii Fit, and he's been playing with
it and the Wii pretty much non-stop. Skyward had another "oh crap,
maybe we're running out of money" this past week, but someone is
giving them money for at least another month. We had decided he was
going to go ahead and look for a new job, but since they've gotten the
money he's changed his mind. He really likes working for them, plus,
you know, he really hates looking for a new job, so... I guess we'll
wait til the next time they think they're out of money.
He is having a lot more fun with Elliot, too. Elliot is so much more
aware than he used to be, and Waxor's enjoying it.
And me... I am looking forward to moving in someplace that I can
paint. Since I moved from home everywhere I've lived has been painted
an awful off white color, and I'm pretty thrilled that I finally get
to actually decide what colors I want my walls to be.
I'm hoping that Momma will get to help me paint (this pretty much has
to do if we can get into the apartment while she's here) She's coming
on Wed and will be here for almost a week, to drool over her grandson
and , well, that's pretty much it. I mean, I suppose she'll be happy
to see me, and she might notice Waxor, but mostly I'm thinking they'll
be plenty of grandbaby drool.
(Side note, Elliot and Waxor are playing Wii Tennis right now, Waxor
swings and Elliot stares first at the TV, and then at the Wiimote,
which makes beeping noises)
Okay, Waxor is getting his butt kicked by the Wii, so I have to go help him.
Friday, April 24, 2009
August 7, 2008
That's right, Hooters Hotpants.
So, I'm walking down the street the other day, pushing Elliot along in
his stroller, and I had the first verifiable proof that I am getting
old - I saw a young woman wearing something that, while I would not go
so far as to say I _disapproved_ of it, was certainly something I
would prefer MY daughter never wore. At first glance, it seemed to me
that this girl was wearing her bright orange underwear out on the
street. Upon closer inspection it was clear to me that I was
absolutely correct, and not only that, but they had "Hooters"
emblazoned across the butt.
Now, I have nothing against Hooters, and also have nothing against a
pair of Hooters pants. As long as they are actually PANTS. I am not
exaggerating when I tell you that I get more coverage from my
underwear than this girl was getting from those shorts. And no, it is
NOT because I am a fan of granny panties.
Anyway. I suddenly had this wild urge to stop her and say "Look, I
know you don't care what I think, and I know that your only real goal
here is to attract the attention of all the other hormonal hottentots
out there, but trust me when I tell you, you are going to cringe when
you remember wearing those out in public someday."
But I didn't. Alas. If I had this would be a MUCH better story.
Elliot is about 75% mobile, and as a result is hurting himself on a
regular basis. I'll let him practice sitting up, and he'll do great,
and then plop! Over he goes before I can catch him. And sometimes he's
fine and sometimes he bumps something, and then... OH THE MISERY!
(I started this email about a week and a half ago. Then we went to
Maine for the weekend, and Elliot got sick, and was really cranky,
then I started trying to get ready for my Carolina trip, then we went
to Northampton this weekend, and now I no longer remember what I was
going to be writing in this email. So... now for something completely
different!)
Elliot's got a tooth coming through. I've felt it for weeks now, just
a tiny little bump that I knew would be a tooth at some point, but no
one else could feel it. Now everyone can feel it, and it seems to
really be bothering him. He'll be perfectly happy and then just start
wailing, and the only thing I can figure is his mouth hurts. I'm
really hoping he finishes breaking this tooth sometime this week,
because I'd like him to feel better for our trip. Plus, I'm not wild
about the idea of him having all that extra fluid knocking around for
the flights - Waxor is prone to ear infections and he may have passed
that on to Elliot.
Dr. Burba says Elliot is in 60% height and 15% weight, and that I
should try to feed him more, so I'm doing my best, but, y'know, in
this he is definitely not MY son. If I am given tasty food and told
"eat, eat, eat MORE!" I do. Waxor is the one who just sometimes isn't
in the mood to eat, and I think he's given that to Elliot.
Speaking of Waxor, I think he's looking forward to Elliot and I being
gone. He will, of course, miss us, but if we're not here that means he
doesn't have baby duty first thing in the morning. I imagine he'll
use all his free time sleeping and playing WoW.
ARGH! I can't remember what I was talking about last time I was writing this...
Elliot is now totally cool sitting on his own. He still falls over
once in a very rare while, but he's got enough control to fall slowly,
so he doesn't hit his head. He's also gotten really good at scooting
backwards across the floor, and then getting really cranky when he
gets stuck under the coffee table of something.
I just spent this past week re-arranging the whole house. I guess in
my mind was the idea that it was possible that Elliot would learn to
crawl while we're in SC, and I didn't want to have to keep him penned
up while I half-assed-ly baby proofed the house when we got back, so I
decided to baby proof before we left. Except, since we're not moving,
there's a bunch of furniture we wanted to move around and tweak, to
prefect the layout, and there's no reason to baby proof til we get
that done, sooooo... I've been moving furniture, and storing old
clothes, and stuff like that, all week. And, of course, I have yet to
do any actual baby proofing (well, except I put away the nice wine
glasses). The only real thing that's gotten done was done by Waxor -
he put the baby gate up on the stairs.
Okay, I'm gonna send this now, because at this point I am so
disjointed from taking so long to write it that I don't th ink I can
finish it coherently. We'll just start afresh, shall we? Yes indeedy.
So, I'm walking down the street the other day, pushing Elliot along in
his stroller, and I had the first verifiable proof that I am getting
old - I saw a young woman wearing something that, while I would not go
so far as to say I _disapproved_ of it, was certainly something I
would prefer MY daughter never wore. At first glance, it seemed to me
that this girl was wearing her bright orange underwear out on the
street. Upon closer inspection it was clear to me that I was
absolutely correct, and not only that, but they had "Hooters"
emblazoned across the butt.
Now, I have nothing against Hooters, and also have nothing against a
pair of Hooters pants. As long as they are actually PANTS. I am not
exaggerating when I tell you that I get more coverage from my
underwear than this girl was getting from those shorts. And no, it is
NOT because I am a fan of granny panties.
Anyway. I suddenly had this wild urge to stop her and say "Look, I
know you don't care what I think, and I know that your only real goal
here is to attract the attention of all the other hormonal hottentots
out there, but trust me when I tell you, you are going to cringe when
you remember wearing those out in public someday."
But I didn't. Alas. If I had this would be a MUCH better story.
Elliot is about 75% mobile, and as a result is hurting himself on a
regular basis. I'll let him practice sitting up, and he'll do great,
and then plop! Over he goes before I can catch him. And sometimes he's
fine and sometimes he bumps something, and then... OH THE MISERY!
(I started this email about a week and a half ago. Then we went to
Maine for the weekend, and Elliot got sick, and was really cranky,
then I started trying to get ready for my Carolina trip, then we went
to Northampton this weekend, and now I no longer remember what I was
going to be writing in this email. So... now for something completely
different!)
Elliot's got a tooth coming through. I've felt it for weeks now, just
a tiny little bump that I knew would be a tooth at some point, but no
one else could feel it. Now everyone can feel it, and it seems to
really be bothering him. He'll be perfectly happy and then just start
wailing, and the only thing I can figure is his mouth hurts. I'm
really hoping he finishes breaking this tooth sometime this week,
because I'd like him to feel better for our trip. Plus, I'm not wild
about the idea of him having all that extra fluid knocking around for
the flights - Waxor is prone to ear infections and he may have passed
that on to Elliot.
Dr. Burba says Elliot is in 60% height and 15% weight, and that I
should try to feed him more, so I'm doing my best, but, y'know, in
this he is definitely not MY son. If I am given tasty food and told
"eat, eat, eat MORE!" I do. Waxor is the one who just sometimes isn't
in the mood to eat, and I think he's given that to Elliot.
Speaking of Waxor, I think he's looking forward to Elliot and I being
gone. He will, of course, miss us, but if we're not here that means he
doesn't have baby duty first thing in the morning. I imagine he'll
use all his free time sleeping and playing WoW.
ARGH! I can't remember what I was talking about last time I was writing this...
Elliot is now totally cool sitting on his own. He still falls over
once in a very rare while, but he's got enough control to fall slowly,
so he doesn't hit his head. He's also gotten really good at scooting
backwards across the floor, and then getting really cranky when he
gets stuck under the coffee table of something.
I just spent this past week re-arranging the whole house. I guess in
my mind was the idea that it was possible that Elliot would learn to
crawl while we're in SC, and I didn't want to have to keep him penned
up while I half-assed-ly baby proofed the house when we got back, so I
decided to baby proof before we left. Except, since we're not moving,
there's a bunch of furniture we wanted to move around and tweak, to
prefect the layout, and there's no reason to baby proof til we get
that done, sooooo... I've been moving furniture, and storing old
clothes, and stuff like that, all week. And, of course, I have yet to
do any actual baby proofing (well, except I put away the nice wine
glasses). The only real thing that's gotten done was done by Waxor -
he put the baby gate up on the stairs.
Okay, I'm gonna send this now, because at this point I am so
disjointed from taking so long to write it that I don't th ink I can
finish it coherently. We'll just start afresh, shall we? Yes indeedy.
July 13, 2008
Robin Miller can't count.
Seriously.
For those of you who don't know who Robin Miller is, she does Quick
Fix meals on Food TV and edits some food magazine, and does these
meals that are like "prepare 3 ingredients that take a long time on
the weekend, and then use them multiple times during the week" which
isn't a bad idea, mind you, but I have to admit that I inherently
distrust her due to the fact that she is skinny, and NO ONE who tells
me how to cook should be that skinny. Thin, fine, but if I can see
your bones you can't be that good a cook...
Anyway, I'm watching her show, and she assures me that all of the
dishes she is preparing on this day use five ingredients or LESS.
Now, as I am watching she makes a burger, which contains:
Ground sirloin
Bacon
Cheese
Red Onion
Mustard
Tomato
Lettuce
and....
A Bun
As you may know, I CAN count. And that is EIGHT ingredients. Not
five. Then she makes a pasta dish, which (not including the water
that she boils her pasta in, and then uses some of in the sauce)
contains six ingredients. It's not that I'm a fanatic about dishes
having fewer than five ingredients or anything. I will, quite
cheerfully, make something with 20 or more components. But don't TELL
me it has five or less when it doesn't. It forces me to assume that
you are either insufficiently educated, or have an odd number of
fingers and therefore have numerical complexes blocking your ability
to recognize "five", or just think I am stupid.
Hi everyone!
So, things to tell, things to tell... Waxor has been working hard of
late. The company has had a whole bunch of deadlines coming up, so
last week they all actually stayed late two nights. (This had awful
ramifications for Elliot and I, but we are not, at the moment, talking
about Elliot and I, so, never mind...) The days he doesn't stay late
he just sits and his computer and churns through stuff as fast as
possible. I know many of you do that on a regular basis, but Waxor's
working style tends to be a bit more relaxed (which is good for him,
and makes him more productive in the long term, because he doesn't get
burnt out) so by the end of the week he was pretty tired. The good
news is that they got a hunk of money from one investor, and the other
big investor, who might give them 2 million, did go ahead and give
them a little money, which makes it more likely that he'll go ahead
and invest. Should the 2 million come through then one of the first
things the company is going to do is hire someone new, and we're
pretty sure that that "someone new" is going to be Fuzzy, so we've got
our fingers crossed that everything works out, cause aside from job
stability we'd really like to have him and Dante in the area.
In fact, in my fantasy world, I have planned for them to move into
this very apartment (after giving the landlord a stern talking to
about the heat) because Waxor and I are moving next door. We think.
We were out walking with Elliot a few weeks ago and our next door
neighbor said "hey, you guys looking for an apartment?" Turns out
he's buying his parents house, and his family's moving over there, so
they're renting out this house as two apartments. We went in and
looked, and saw many positive things like a dishwasher, a bathtub, a
fireplace, and a much larger room for the baby. The only negative was
that there was no downstairs basement room to be our office. So, we
talked about it, and Waxor said "well, if it weren't for the office"
so I talked to the guy and said "well, if it weren't for the office"
and he said "You want a room in the basement? I can put up a room in
the basement for you..." !!!! So, we have a verbal agreement with him
to move in mid-September assuming he puts up a room in the basement
for us. :) Actually, that reminds me, I need to pop over there today
and see if he's around, because I'd like to maybe sign a rental
agreement, and have more than a verbal agreement. Waxor and I are
excited to be able to move in easy stages, and to really get to look
and think about where stuff goes, instead of just unpacking everything
as fast as possible and ending up kinda topsy turvey. We were going
to re-arrange all our stuff over here, because the baby stuff is
taking up lots of space and we can't move around the apartment
anymore, but since we'll be moving so soon we've sort of agreed to
keep everything over here as neat as possible and to save major moving
for when we, y'know, move.
Speaking of cleanliness, we got a Roomba. Waxor is in love. He has a
robot. I think he would possibly leave me for the Roomba except it
doesn't cook. Even though it doesn't cook I KNOW he would leave me
for it if it did the dishes. :) I am tolerably happy with it, as
well, especially since there''s a lot more carpet next door, and it
will be even better to have over there.
Breeden and Anya came and visited Friday night. Breeden earned my
undying gratitude by both rubbing my back AND doing the dishes. He
can't have my first born child, but pretty much anything else is up
for grabs. I talked to Anya about shipping her off to Nicaragua, and
was prepared to do so almost immediately, but she has some things...
what were those called? Oh yes, obligations. Funny word...
:)
We are hoping to make it out to Northampton the weekend of August 2nd,
mainly to have our first chance to ogle Alexander, but any of you in
the Northampton area who might be around we would be happy to ogle
you, as well. Incidentally, Maggie and Pete, you guys aren't planning
on being out of town that weekend, are you? Because that might put a
damper in our ogling plans...
And on the topic of visiting... To all who have requested further
information, I will be in Rock Hill starting August 11th for about 4
days, and then we're headed up to Asheville for the weekend, and then
I don't know what's happening after that, except I have to be back in
charlotte on the 21st for my flight home. So, with that information
in hand feel free to call me whenever to talk about getting together,
or I'll call you once I get there.
Everyone else, who is neither in NoHo or NC/SC, when are you coming to visit?
Also, Waxor's parent's annual (which one is yearly and which one is
butt realated? One n or two?) lawn party is Saturday, July 26th, so
anyone who can make it to Portland, Maine, should go. It's a slammin'
good time.
Okay, ready? Here goes:
Elliot is amazing. He's really changing - he babbles now, and laughs
when you blow on his belly, and complains vigorously when you don't do
what he wants. He can roll over, both front to back and back to
front. He sleeps long stretches at night now - as long as it's not
too hot he only wakes up once or twice a night. He's learned to
squirm his way forward, and I don't think it will be too long before
he's crawling. It seemed like all of this just happened over the
course of a week, I'm tempted to put a brick on his head and tell him
to slow down.
His favorite new toy is a bottle. The other day he was having
teething pains, and finally I took one of the bottles that got given
to us when he was born and handed it to him, and he went to town. He
LOVES gnawing on that thing. It's sort of funny, I've seen plenty of
babies get really excited over a bottle, but not an EMPTY one.
He' learning to squirm so fast because of Chimbasa. He doesn't care
enough about any of his toys in order to go after them, but he REALLY
wants that Bito, and that Bito, as you might have guessed, does NOT
want him. So Chimbasa goes and lies down somewhere, and we'll put
Elliot a few feet away on his tummy, and he'll hunch his little self
over as fast as he can, and then, when he's mere inches away from
Chimbasa, we'll pick him up and move him back again. This would,
obviously, be incredibly cruel of us, except he seems to enjoy TRYING
to get to Bito as much as he actually enjoys GETTING him, so no harm
no foul. Bito hates this game, and constantly keeps a wary eye on
Elliot lest he get too close and manage to snatch a handful of tail.
It's drastically cut into Bito's nap time, so now, whenever Elliot is
down for a nap, Chimbasa curls up in a little pile of groggy doggy.
The attached pictures are from July 4th weekend, which also happened
to be Elliot's six month birthday. That substance smeared all over
his face is half a cupcake, which he was not allowed to eat, but had a
great deal of fun smashing to bits and smearing everywhere.
:)
I had more to say, but as it is now the end of the day (why does it
take me so long to finish these emails?) I believe I will call it a
night and save my blurb on Hooters Hotpants for another time.
Seriously.
For those of you who don't know who Robin Miller is, she does Quick
Fix meals on Food TV and edits some food magazine, and does these
meals that are like "prepare 3 ingredients that take a long time on
the weekend, and then use them multiple times during the week" which
isn't a bad idea, mind you, but I have to admit that I inherently
distrust her due to the fact that she is skinny, and NO ONE who tells
me how to cook should be that skinny. Thin, fine, but if I can see
your bones you can't be that good a cook...
Anyway, I'm watching her show, and she assures me that all of the
dishes she is preparing on this day use five ingredients or LESS.
Now, as I am watching she makes a burger, which contains:
Ground sirloin
Bacon
Cheese
Red Onion
Mustard
Tomato
Lettuce
and....
A Bun
As you may know, I CAN count. And that is EIGHT ingredients. Not
five. Then she makes a pasta dish, which (not including the water
that she boils her pasta in, and then uses some of in the sauce)
contains six ingredients. It's not that I'm a fanatic about dishes
having fewer than five ingredients or anything. I will, quite
cheerfully, make something with 20 or more components. But don't TELL
me it has five or less when it doesn't. It forces me to assume that
you are either insufficiently educated, or have an odd number of
fingers and therefore have numerical complexes blocking your ability
to recognize "five", or just think I am stupid.
Hi everyone!
So, things to tell, things to tell... Waxor has been working hard of
late. The company has had a whole bunch of deadlines coming up, so
last week they all actually stayed late two nights. (This had awful
ramifications for Elliot and I, but we are not, at the moment, talking
about Elliot and I, so, never mind...) The days he doesn't stay late
he just sits and his computer and churns through stuff as fast as
possible. I know many of you do that on a regular basis, but Waxor's
working style tends to be a bit more relaxed (which is good for him,
and makes him more productive in the long term, because he doesn't get
burnt out) so by the end of the week he was pretty tired. The good
news is that they got a hunk of money from one investor, and the other
big investor, who might give them 2 million, did go ahead and give
them a little money, which makes it more likely that he'll go ahead
and invest. Should the 2 million come through then one of the first
things the company is going to do is hire someone new, and we're
pretty sure that that "someone new" is going to be Fuzzy, so we've got
our fingers crossed that everything works out, cause aside from job
stability we'd really like to have him and Dante in the area.
In fact, in my fantasy world, I have planned for them to move into
this very apartment (after giving the landlord a stern talking to
about the heat) because Waxor and I are moving next door. We think.
We were out walking with Elliot a few weeks ago and our next door
neighbor said "hey, you guys looking for an apartment?" Turns out
he's buying his parents house, and his family's moving over there, so
they're renting out this house as two apartments. We went in and
looked, and saw many positive things like a dishwasher, a bathtub, a
fireplace, and a much larger room for the baby. The only negative was
that there was no downstairs basement room to be our office. So, we
talked about it, and Waxor said "well, if it weren't for the office"
so I talked to the guy and said "well, if it weren't for the office"
and he said "You want a room in the basement? I can put up a room in
the basement for you..." !!!! So, we have a verbal agreement with him
to move in mid-September assuming he puts up a room in the basement
for us. :) Actually, that reminds me, I need to pop over there today
and see if he's around, because I'd like to maybe sign a rental
agreement, and have more than a verbal agreement. Waxor and I are
excited to be able to move in easy stages, and to really get to look
and think about where stuff goes, instead of just unpacking everything
as fast as possible and ending up kinda topsy turvey. We were going
to re-arrange all our stuff over here, because the baby stuff is
taking up lots of space and we can't move around the apartment
anymore, but since we'll be moving so soon we've sort of agreed to
keep everything over here as neat as possible and to save major moving
for when we, y'know, move.
Speaking of cleanliness, we got a Roomba. Waxor is in love. He has a
robot. I think he would possibly leave me for the Roomba except it
doesn't cook. Even though it doesn't cook I KNOW he would leave me
for it if it did the dishes. :) I am tolerably happy with it, as
well, especially since there''s a lot more carpet next door, and it
will be even better to have over there.
Breeden and Anya came and visited Friday night. Breeden earned my
undying gratitude by both rubbing my back AND doing the dishes. He
can't have my first born child, but pretty much anything else is up
for grabs. I talked to Anya about shipping her off to Nicaragua, and
was prepared to do so almost immediately, but she has some things...
what were those called? Oh yes, obligations. Funny word...
:)
We are hoping to make it out to Northampton the weekend of August 2nd,
mainly to have our first chance to ogle Alexander, but any of you in
the Northampton area who might be around we would be happy to ogle
you, as well. Incidentally, Maggie and Pete, you guys aren't planning
on being out of town that weekend, are you? Because that might put a
damper in our ogling plans...
And on the topic of visiting... To all who have requested further
information, I will be in Rock Hill starting August 11th for about 4
days, and then we're headed up to Asheville for the weekend, and then
I don't know what's happening after that, except I have to be back in
charlotte on the 21st for my flight home. So, with that information
in hand feel free to call me whenever to talk about getting together,
or I'll call you once I get there.
Everyone else, who is neither in NoHo or NC/SC, when are you coming to visit?
Also, Waxor's parent's annual (which one is yearly and which one is
butt realated? One n or two?) lawn party is Saturday, July 26th, so
anyone who can make it to Portland, Maine, should go. It's a slammin'
good time.
Okay, ready? Here goes:
Elliot is amazing. He's really changing - he babbles now, and laughs
when you blow on his belly, and complains vigorously when you don't do
what he wants. He can roll over, both front to back and back to
front. He sleeps long stretches at night now - as long as it's not
too hot he only wakes up once or twice a night. He's learned to
squirm his way forward, and I don't think it will be too long before
he's crawling. It seemed like all of this just happened over the
course of a week, I'm tempted to put a brick on his head and tell him
to slow down.
His favorite new toy is a bottle. The other day he was having
teething pains, and finally I took one of the bottles that got given
to us when he was born and handed it to him, and he went to town. He
LOVES gnawing on that thing. It's sort of funny, I've seen plenty of
babies get really excited over a bottle, but not an EMPTY one.
He' learning to squirm so fast because of Chimbasa. He doesn't care
enough about any of his toys in order to go after them, but he REALLY
wants that Bito, and that Bito, as you might have guessed, does NOT
want him. So Chimbasa goes and lies down somewhere, and we'll put
Elliot a few feet away on his tummy, and he'll hunch his little self
over as fast as he can, and then, when he's mere inches away from
Chimbasa, we'll pick him up and move him back again. This would,
obviously, be incredibly cruel of us, except he seems to enjoy TRYING
to get to Bito as much as he actually enjoys GETTING him, so no harm
no foul. Bito hates this game, and constantly keeps a wary eye on
Elliot lest he get too close and manage to snatch a handful of tail.
It's drastically cut into Bito's nap time, so now, whenever Elliot is
down for a nap, Chimbasa curls up in a little pile of groggy doggy.
The attached pictures are from July 4th weekend, which also happened
to be Elliot's six month birthday. That substance smeared all over
his face is half a cupcake, which he was not allowed to eat, but had a
great deal of fun smashing to bits and smearing everywhere.
:)
I had more to say, but as it is now the end of the day (why does it
take me so long to finish these emails?) I believe I will call it a
night and save my blurb on Hooters Hotpants for another time.
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