Uh, it's July, right?

Last Tuesday I accompanied Ryan to his indoor soccer game with Gavin. OK, not really. I accompanied him on the ride to his indoor soccer game in Tukwila. Once he had his gear and was out of the car I hopped in the driver's side and went down the road a few miles to Babies 'R Us in the heart of Southcenter shopping hell. It, Southcenter, is the site of all things big and too much. But we had a baby gate that needed to be returned because it was missing some critical piece hence the trip. We didn't have the receipt since it was a gift from last year and I'm not that good at keeping track of such things. Correction: I wasn't that good. I'm better now. (I tell myself that if I keep telling myself that and I exert a little effort then it will become true).

I'm glad I took it back when I did because their exchange/return policy is changing effective August 10th. Currently as it stands you can return any item without a receipt if it was purchased from your registry. Cool. Not everyone gives a gift receipt, although we did get one with this gift - I just don't know where it is. Oh, wait. I think I know where it is. Too late.
Anyway, in the future you have 90 to return an item but it must be accompanied with a receipt. That means if you have a baby shower at 6 months and your lovely friends buy you stuff that is on your registry but don't give a gift receipts and you try to return something that just isn't working for whatever reason after the baby is born you are out of luck. Too bad. Stupid box stores.

I just watched a documentary, "Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Cost". Grr. Stupid Wal-Mart. I always knew they were evil, now I just have facts to back up my opinion. Well, I had numbers to back up my opinions. Now I can just say, "Yeah, well, Wal-Mart expects their employees to take advantage of welfare and government subsidies to fill the gap in life expenses that their wages do not cover." Or, or, or...

Stupid short term memory. Between me and Ryan we have it made. His short term memory is great. Mine sucks. Ryan's long term memory is horrific, I'm surprised he remembers his extended family member's names sometimes. My long term memory is unbelievable. I'm surprised I don't remember the doctor spanking me after I was born. Seriously. I remember playing with my mom's hands, sitting on the living room floor making funny sounds with my lips, fighting sleep on my grandma's shoulder as she stood in her living room, my eyes heavy and blinking slower and longer and the red and white checks on her shirt coming in and out of focus as I blinked.

This is going farther and farther away from why I started this post. Back to Babies 'R Us. After returning the gate and getting store credit I walked back to the far corner of the store to pick up some diapers and to check out their baby food. I bought some stage 3 food for Gavin that was on sale - Earth's Best Organic, for those of you who care. Stage 3 is a big deal. It has chunks in it. Woo-hoo. Chunky food. 9 month old babies can eat chunks. Too bad Gavin has disliked every 'real' food in stage three except the fruit. No chicken and stars pasta, no spaghetti and cheese, no sweet potato and whatever bisque. I tried it and I don't blame him for not liking it. Bleh.

As I sauntered to the check out and was almost to the Kiddie Kandids photo studio I saw a display that made me stop in my tracks. I just stood there, staring at the clothing display trying to remember what month it was, I do have a bad short term memory after all. Maybe it was fall already and I didn't know it.

A sales associate very politely asked me if I was ready to check out. Still standing and staring at the display I glanced to my left to the nice young woman and said, "It is July, right?"

She replied, "Yes, but it'll all be gone by October."

Yes, all of the cute Halloween clothes will be gone by then because people see it on the store shelves in FREAKIN' JULY and think, "OMG! I have to buy it now because if I wait until a few weeks before Halloween (or Thanksgiving / Christmas / Valentine's Day/ St. Patrick's Day / Easter / Fourth of July) it will all be gone when I want to buy this $20 onsie that will probably be too small for my son / daughter / grandson / granddaughter / niece / nephew / godson / goddaughter when they can finally wear it for ONE DAY and I will be the worst mother / father / grandmother / grandfather / aunt / uncle / godfather / godmother EVER for not buying it in a timely fashion!"

Of course that rant makes me a huge hypocrite because I bought Gavin a Santa hat in October or November last year. How can you have a newborn at Christmas and not put a Santa hat on his cute head? It's impossible. And I have a Santa hat for him to wear for this Christmas but this one is a hand me down so neener neener.

That's right: neener neener.

I'm not one to brag. Unless its about my son - he is the CUTEST ever. I'm sure he's the smartest ever, too but I think its best to lay off the mental acuity challenges until he's the ripe old age of one year. Actually, I think the smartest baby is Isaiah in my mommy group. He was the first to roll over, sit up, crawl, stand up, walk (with assistance) and cruise and he says, Momma, Dada and dog. Holy cow! He's only 10 days older than Gavin. Oh, well. Gavin can't be the best at everything. Tough lesson to learn so young.

Where was I going with this? Oh, it has nothing to do with Gavin. I was just setting the stage for some bragging. It's easy to brag about this because I had absolutely nothing to do with it (other than "jokingly" planting a seed).

I get to watch the Blue Angels at SeaFair this year from a boat in Lake Washington! Woo-hoo! I am so excited!!! Ryan's friend bought a boat and his ridiculously expensive toy is going to bring me so much pleasure and maybe mild hearing loss! How do you say thanks for the best seat to the coolest show ever? Beer? Home baked snickerdoodles? Shortbread with chocolate drizzled on top? Biscotti with chocolate drizzled on top? Cash? Cash with chocolate drizzled on top?

And thanks to Heidi who is providing the greatest service of all: babysitting on said afternoon so I can partake of the greatest show on earth (sorry Ringling Bros. you can't touch the Blue Angels). Insert everyone's favorite song about not being able to touch it here. Ah! Now I have MC Hammer stuck in my head. At least its not ... ah, just thinking about it. My brain is burning! The visual in my head went from MC Hammer in parachute pants to the unfortunate video that I saw ONE time of him in those speedos. Ah, the humanity! Make it go away! Cursed long term memory!

Art Walk

Last night instead of studying our new book, The Life of Paul: To Die is Christ my Thursday night girlfriends went to the West Seattle Second Thursday Artwalk to support one of our own. Krissy was a featured artisan, displaying her beautiful jewelery at Keller Williams, my former stomping grounds.

Keller Williams really did have the best set up for the art walk out of the businesses that we went to. They have so much wall space that it is more like a gallery than the other stores that display local artists, some stores are so small that they just have a few token pieces. Besides, KW had music, catered food, two fabulous artists and of course, Krissy Maier, selling her handmade one of a kind pieces. You too can own an original Krissy Maier piece - check out her website (to be updated soon, I believe): www.orangeboxjewelry.com.

Yes, she is a friend so it only seems natural that I would promote her business but really, she is that good. My former boss bought 7 pieces of jewelery from her last night and had one cool necklace in her maybe pile.

Last night I bought the most beautiful necklace she has ever made. It's mine. All mine.

And since I am uploading pictures, here is one of me in my new glasses:

And here I sit at 11:32 on Friday morning. It has been 5 hours since Gavin woke up. He is 3 hours overdue for his morning nap. I hope this is just a fluke and not a new trend. If it is a new trend then I hope he will at least be kind enough to wake up at 7 and take a solid 3 hour nap in the afternoon, say from 12-3 or 11-2. He's half an hour late for the 11-2 nap time. Maybe he'll do 11:30-2:30.

No such luck. He is really enthralled with the OXO soup ladle I gave him a few minutes ago. So far as he's concerned it is the coolest new toy ever and I am the best mom ever for giving him said cool toy. It is part of a matching set, he already has the spoon with holes.

My luck changed. One second he's happily banging the big black plastic ladle with rubber handle on the floor and the next he arches his back and bonked his head. Oh, that sounds bad. It was not fortunate that he bonked his head... no, no. Not at all. After I consoled my sweet boy and kissed his sweet head he tugged on his ear and rubbed his eyes and rested his head on my shoulder. All signs pointed toward true baby fatigue so I laid him down and this time there was no howling, well, maybe 30 seconds worth, just sleeping. I peeked at the monitor when the screaming stopped because I figured he decide to entertain himself with his stuffed blue dog or by pulling himself up in the crib. Was I ever shocked when the monitor showed him lying down, sleeping. No standing, no crawling, no trying to bite the stuffed dog's ear off, just sweet, sweet, quiet sleep.

$30.25

I had an extra night off last week because I thought my mom's group was getting together for dinner a week earlier than we actually were and since Ryan agreed to watch Gavin I decided I should still go out. I chose to spend my few baby less hours by myself at the movie theater. Sure, I could have invited a friend but my girlfriends probably would have politely declined to see the movie I wanted to watch, but I'll get to that in a minute.

Almost more shocking than my choice of movie was the cost of my few hours out. Instead of planning ahead and taking the bus to the movie theater I drove. Since it was late at night, and by late I mean 7 o'clock, and the theater was downtown in an area with a dearth of off street parking and the pay lots only taking exact change of which I had exactly one $20 bill I parked in a garage. If I planned ahead, not enough to take the bus but enough to find cheap parking, I would have thought to look up the exact location of Pacific Place's garage where parking is cheap, relatively speaking, and parked there and saved a few bucks.

There went the first $10.

Since I see about 1 movie or less a year in the theater I decided it would be permissible to buy popcorn and a soda. Sure, I could have bought a jumbo box of candy at Bartell's and put it in my purse and saved some money for Gavin's college education but I didn't. I wanted popcorn with butter, lots and lots of fake butter that you can only get on the top layer because they fill the stupid bag to the top and hand it to you to put your own butter on because to have them put the butter on in stages as they fill up the bag would be too much work and they would have to charge too much for it.

Oh, wait. They did charge me too much.

My second $10 was for a SMALL popcorn and a SMALL soda. I asked the cashier how much for their #2 combo (medium popcorn and medium drink); he said without batting an eye, $13. I choked. He must get that reaction a lot because he just stood there staring at me. So, Mr. Cashier hands me my small bag of popcorn and jumbo cup of soda. Seriously. Why are soda sizes so relative? A 32 oz soda is not small. I should have ordered a child's size soda.

Of course it cost to get into the movie and it was actually the first money I spent, $10.25 for admission to secure a seat for my behind in the theater.

After getting hosed at the concessions stand I took my munchies and trough of soda and settled in to just the right seat. I was just early enough to catch the last trivia question and right on time for the witty spots on turning off cell phones and I got to watch all 21 minutes of previews.

TWENTY-ONE minutes of previews. Is that not a little over kill? C'mon, the feature presentation was going to be 2 1/2 hours, do we really want to add to our sore butt time and gotta-pee-'cause-I-drank-32 ounces-of-fluid-but-I-don't-want-to-miss-a-minute-of-the-movie-chair-dance? I think not.

It is time for me to divulge the name of the movie I watched. It is quite shocking. Really. Aside from Ryan I have only told one friend the movie I watched and she played like she wasn't too shocked but I really think she was.

Sorry, Mom, AnnaLisa, everyone else who thought I was 'above' this but the movie was...

Sex and the City.

Yep, your little April watched Sex and the City and aside from the sex parts she really enjoyed the movie.

I am a closet Sex and the City fan. I don't remember when I started watching it but it was after it had gone off the air and was being re-run on TBS. I think insomnia and pregnancy were involved and it is all TiVo's fault. It recorded the TBS re-runs under TiVo suggestions. One night when there was nothing to watch and I was wide awake I thought I would watch a minute of the show to see what the fuss was all about. I found out. Life. It was all about life.

As much as I despised some aspects of their characters it was easy to see the common thread of love that ran through the women on the show. In the heyday of the show women wanted to know if they were a Carrie Bradshaw, Miranda Hobbs, Charlotte York-MacDougal-Goldenblatt or Samantha Jones. I think I would be a bit of Carrie and Charlotte, minus the killer clothes. I would be the least like Miranda and it would be a cold, cold day in hell before anyone would compare me to Samantha. I didn't even like Kim Catrell (Samantha) when she did interviews. Bleh.

I knew the version of the show I watched on TV was the cleaned up version but I had no idea how much it was cleaned up. Yipes. The sex was just unnecessary in the movie. Really. Do we need to see that? Are we not an intelligent lot? Can we not figure out what's going on behind closed doors?

Watching a movie by oneself is not all the bad, especially if you like to watch the movie and not talk during the movie. This was the first time I ever went to the movie theater by myself. I will eat alone no problem and I actually enjoy eating by myself. Some people can't stand to eat alone, they feel all sad and lonely. Not me. I'm good company.

Ha.

The part about watching a movie by yourself that I don't like the is the after part: there is no one to talk to about it.

That part nearly killed me!!! I watched a movie I really enjoyed and I really, really, really wanted to talk to someone about it but who? Ryan? Ha. I told him that I didn't like watching movies by myself because I had no one to talk to about it.

Of course this is where the husband (in the fantasy land) says, "Tell me all about it, my dear. I will hang on your every word; let me see this girlie movie through your eyes."

OR where your real husband says, "Mhmh." As in, "Straight up! You have no one to talk to about this movie, ESPECIALLY, me."

I can't say I blame him. If he came home after watching Laura Croft: Tomb Raider and was dying to talk about all of the action my eyes would glaze over. Actually, if Ryan ever uttered the words, "dying to talk" and he wasn't quoting me I would keel over.

Right there. On the spot. Don't get me wrong. Ryan talks. We talk. We have good talks. But he is never DYING to talk; not many men have a pressing need to gab.

Curtain Tie Backs

It is the little things in life that make us happy. We all know this but we don't all take it to heart. Happiness is in the cup of coffee freshly brewed that you sip at the dining room table as you gaze at your clean living room. A living room that is clean for no good reason(the 'good reason' usually being that company was expected to arrive any time soon). Happiness is in knowing that the jumble of stuff that has been collecting dust for two years in the entry way has been pared down, sorted and taken care of so that paper clips, staples, pens, batteries, receipts, coupons, scissors, safety pins, etc., all have a drawer in the new 9-drawer box I bought from Ikea. Happiness is seeing the top of the dining room table and not just the legs.

It's so nice to have the upstairs part of the house so close to being exactly the way I want it: neat, organized and clean. Clean and neat are not the same thing. A house can be tidy and organized but still be dirty. I wonder if the Spring Cleaning Bug is hitting me now because our winter lasted well into June. Whatever the reason I don't want to fight it.

The last couple of days I've been tying the curtains back when I open them in morning (late morning). I think this is a huge milestone for me as a mother. Yes, a milestone because when, in the not so distant past, you were so sleep deprived that you napped every second the baby napped and cried when baby woke up crying because you could have easily slept 8 more hours. To make matters worse you couldn't reach the curtains even if you wanted to. There was no way to get to the curtains anyway without an overnighter at base camp because the house was a complete hovel and you couldn't physically get past the baskets of clean laundry, the swing, the exersaucer, the basket of books, the briefcases, the shoes and baby toys. Even if there was an open and easy path to the curtains why would you want to flood light into your home and disrupt the land of perpetual naps? Of course to get out of Perpetual Napdom one must forgo naps for a couple of days but that is easier said than done when Napdom is the only reason you get any amount of sleep at all.

So yes it is a momentous occasion to tie back the curtains. You are no longer fighting the light and you have time and energy to spare by walking 10 feet out of your way to get the tie backs and, here's the exciting part: you still have energy and motivation to tie the curtains back and let in the sunshine! Glorious, glorious sunshine. We in Seattle see so very little of the sun that when we are graced with its warm, glowing presence we flip out. So elated are we that our feet don't touch the ground, we float along, gracefully scattering flower petals in our wake as we smile and wave gracefully to our fellow levitating flower tossing neighbors.

That is of course on the first day of said glorious weather. On day two of the same glorious weather only a degree or two warmer and we melt into a collective puddle of sweaty grumbly goo. We wanted summer to come but to come on our terms. 'Our terms' are for the weather to stay a perfect 79 to 81 degrees with just a fluffy cloud or two in the sky, maybe a few feathery clouds to frame out Mt. Rainier, and the softest of breezes kissing our skin as it brings a hint of salt water that it collected as it skimmed the Puget Sound.

We are a fickle bunch. We live in a green state, physically and conservationally, we have an abundance of water, at least West of the Cascades, we have mild winters and mild summers (again, West of the Cascades) and we still find reason to grumble on day two of 'heat wave'. Of course when the heat wave is over we are happy for all of one day before we grumble about summer being gone so soon.

You know it is day one of real summer weather when you are stuck in traffic on the 520 or 405 or I-5 or 167 or 169 or 518 or 509 or 99 because no one seems to care they are stuck in their cars. Traffic flows anywhere between 0 and 8 mph and everyone has their radio on listening to Sheryl Crow's or Will Smith's song about summer, drivers all have their left arm hanging out the window and everyone is sporting a huge, relaxed smile. Good vibes all around in this love fest of beautiful weather.

Day two of same glorious summer weather and you are stuck on the same 520/405/I-5/167/169/518/509/99 and the smiles have vanished, the windows are rolled up and the a/c is blasting. Instead of smiles and friendly wave-ins being passed around it is now the bird. It flits from car to car and horn to horn.

Happy Summer!

Happy Independence Day!

I'm watching Blood Diamonds right now and I'm even more grateful to have been so blessed to have been born in America.

Noooo! Not Bedtime!!!!

The oddest thing happened tonight. Gavin's mood got progressively better as the night wore on. He kept looking at me and Ryan with those blue, blue eyes and giving his cute open mouth two teeth smile. Then he would laugh. Smile, laugh, smile, laugh. There isn't a better sound in the world than his laughter. Not even the sound of the ice-cream truck or the dog's dream barking come close.

Of course all good things must come to an end. A switch flipped and then there was crying and screaming and tears. His cute smiles turned into cute scowls; I don't think his intention was for his frown and furrowed forehead to be cute but he just can't help himself.

I gathered my grumpy baby and had him say goodnight to Ryan and went into his bedroom. By this point he quit crying but I wasn't fooled. He was still tired. I kissed his sweet little head and cheeks then laid him down in his crib.


KABOOM


Did you know going to bed is the end of the world? Yes. The end. At least that is what Gavin told me in no uncertain terms. I stood by his crib and gently patted his belly (he sleeps on his tummy now but he kept flipping over onto his back in protest) because he didn't give me a chance to pat his back.


I do believe I witnessed Gavin's first temper tantrum. It was, of course, so cute that I just laughed. Then I stifled my snickering and tried to talk to him in calm, soothing tones.


What does a tantrum look like from an 8 month old? Besides screaming, the kind of screaming that hurts your ears - I've been to concerts that didn't hurt my ears as much as his ear piercing screams, he was arching his back, kicking his feet and whaling his arms and fists against the mattress. But like other white hot fires he burned up his fuel fast and quit the scream fest in just a few minutes. I stood by his crib and rubbed his back for about 10 minutes before he finally fell asleep. He didn't wake again until 3 am. It's always a good night when he only wakes up once. I don't think there was ever a time when I thought that there would be a time that I would be happy to wake up at 3 am. It's probably not so much that I'm happy to wake up at 3 am but I'm happy that I wasn't up at midnight and 2 am before that and know that I would be up again at 4 or 5 am.

Jerk

Before Ryan left for work this morning he set the trash out by the street for pick up. I was off to an early start (relatively speaking) and was out the door by 8:30 because today is the free car seat check day at Ikea in Renton. I wanted to arrive by 9:00 so I wouldn't have to wait in a huge line and it paid off, I was second in line. The nice volunteer from the Washington Traffic Safety Commission helped me install Gavin's new car seat - the kind that is going to stay put in the car. No more taking him in and out and clicking the basket infant car seat into the stroller. If he falls asleep in his car seat now we have no choice but to leave him in the car while we do our shopping.

Ha. As if.

The trip to Ikea isn't really a part of this Jerk story. I only write of it because this morning when I walked out to the car everything appeared to be normal in the yard, everything in its place. Upon arriving home I checked to see how my dahlias were doing as I walked from the car to the front steps. After surveying the sad looking dahlias by the steps my eyes wandered to the other corner of the yard to see how the other grouping were doing.

Something wasn't right. The dahlias were there, the lilies were there but something was missing.

Our new tree!

We have hemmed and hawed for TWO years about what to plant in the corner of death as we call it; so named because the sun is so intense in that location that you have to be vigilant about watering it and it has to be hearty. So we selected a tropical looking tree that thrives in heat and is hearty to 10 F.

Before I freaked out I called Ryan to ask if he moved anything from the front yard to another spot. He asked what I meant so I asked him if he moved the tree we just planted. He laughed and said that he didn't as it dawned on him that our tree was stolen.

Someone stole our tree! In the middle of the day. It was freshly planted and not very big so someone could just walk right up and pluck it out of the ground with very little effort even though the yard is about 5 feet above the level of the sidewalk.

Jerk!

We are debating whether or not to buy another tree to put in that same spot; are we just going to be giving someone a new tree to match their freshly stolen one? If we do plant another tree we are going to have to put some sort of icky barrier around it so the $&^% who stole the first one can't just reach over and pull it out - they will have to be especially brazen and walk up the stairs and cross the yard to get it.

This is kind of funny, kind of not. The tree only cost $25 because it was on sale but now we have to go buy another one that will cost more as the sale is over. At least we won't have to amend the soil and dig a hole since there is a gaping hole from where the first tree was.

Weekend in Wenatchee

We spent the weekend at Ryan's dad & step-mom's house in Wenatchee. Ryan helped his dad a bit by digging a trench for the irrigation system he is putting in his back yard. This project of course inspired Ryan to do the same thing in our back yard. We were home from our 3+ hour drive home maybe an hour before we all piled back into the car and headed off to Home Depot to buy the materials needed for a drip system and sprinkler system. Good times.

Aside from being chauffeured all over Eastern Washington by my grandpa the summer between fourth and fifth grade this was the longest time I've spent in Eastern Washington. Wait. That isn't true. I forgot that one summer, I think between fifth and sixth grade, my family vacationed in a cabin in Conquinelly in Okanagon County. My brothers and I spent our time swimming in the lake, making friends and killing grasshoppers - there was an abundance of grasshoppers that summer and we would jump from grasshopper to grasshopper. I don't think my mom saw us do that, she wouldn't have approved. Gross.


Gavin was the recipient of much love and attention from his Grandpa and Grandma Jahns. They were the recipient of much drool and a few bites. G's top two teeth are going to burst through his gums any day now. Because of the impending arrival of his upper chompers he has been a little fussier, a lot droolier and way, way snottier which have taken his sneezes from being cute to being really gross. His sleep also suffered. Check that - the whole family's sleep has suffered. Karl & Suzanne didn't hear his screaming at 4:30 in the morning though because their bedroom was downstairs on the other side of the house. That made me feel better.

Kea almost took a header off the cliff behind their house. Ryan saw that she found a way around the sage brush border and had her paws over the edge trying to get a discarded teddy bear on the adjacent property. Gavin won't be allowed outside unless he has at least one set of eyeballs on him at all times.

Other than going for the cliff Kea was mostly well behaved. Karl & Suzanne seemed to really like the dog. I keep forgetting that they like animals because they only recently got two cats. I keep yelling at Kea when she goes and licks Suzanne but Suzanne doesn't seem to mind. Ryan and I lucked out that they like the dog and that their cats tolerate her.

Karl took us on a tour of Wenatchee and the surrounding foothills. I didn't realize how pretty Eastern Washington is. I have always pictured it as a barren wasteland, save the orchards of course. It was the orchards that I thought were so beautiful dotting the mountains and valleys. I couldn't live out there, though. It is too far removed from everything and the weather is too hot or too cold and seldom just right - I don't think Goldilocks would like it either.

On our next trip out there we are going to go on a 10 mile bike ride that Suzanne was telling us about. I love bike rides but Seattle is just way to hilly with way too much traffic for me to feel comfortable riding a bike. Ryan did talk about the Burke Gillman trail, he said there aren't too many inclines so we should do that ride this summer or fall. We will have to rent a special bike or get some sort of seat for Gavin that can attach to Ryan's bike. I don't want to have Gavin on my bike as I am challenged in the grace department.

On our way home we decided to stop in Leavenworth (the former logging town turned into a tourist trap in the stylings of a Bavarian village) because I've never been. I've been harping on Ryan to take me there during the Christmas season because I want to see it all snowy and magical. He laughed when I said 'magical'; I laughed, too. Who says magical, anyway?


Karl and Suzanne followed us to Leavenworth and were gracious to take Kea while Ryan and I wandered in shops - Kea's tail and knick knack shops do not go well together. Since I'm not a big shopper and neither is Ryan we actually only stopped in four stores. The music box store ($$$), the gift shop next to the music box store, the clothing store, the hat store, the Christmas store and the candy store. Das ist alles (that's all). I took three years of German in high school and I can hardly remember any of it. Nicht so gut (not so good). I do remember some of the dialogue we had to memorize in 8th grade German class.


Alice, jermand ist an die tur. (Alice, someone's at the door).
Um die ecke (around the corner)
Ist es noch frei? (Is this free?)

So, so wie ich dich liebe/so, so, liebst du auch mich (so, so, how I love you/ so, so, you love me too) - that was love a song we had to learn. There are so many more lyrics... my favorite is: dir, dir, mit leichten Sinn (you, you with an empty head). It's been 14 or 15 years since we learned that song so I'm not completely confident in the lyrics.


It's been 14 or 15 years! I graduated from High School 13 years ago. Yikes. I feel old. A caregiver, Aretha, at the daycare in my gym was telling a story that her mom told her recently about putting some plastic toys in the microwave and catching them on fire when she was a little girl. My family didn't get a microwave until I was 10, it was a wedding gift for my parents. Aretha was probably in diapers when I graduated.


I may feel old but Ryan will always be older than me. He's a guy so he doesn't care like I do. He's been out of high school for 15 years. Before we know it we are going to be going to his 20 year reunion. Unreal. It seems like we just went to his 10 year reunion.


Back to Leavenworth...


The Christmas store was AWESOME! The employees were really friendly which is a good thing since its a Christmas store but I would go insane working there. I love Christmas and the decorations and the music but only for 6 weeks, tops. I get super peeved when Christmas displays start going up around Labor Day, just ask Ryan. Every year he hears me gasp as we walk into _____ (Lowe's/Home Depot/Target/Bartell's....) and there is a gaudy inflatable snowman next to a gigantic Santa in a snow globe next to the forest of artificial trees all while the sun is still shining bright and warm which in Seattle means it is SUMMER, not winter, not even close. After the gasp I let loose on a tirade about the commercialism of Christmas and how the holiday is cheapened by these displays and so early at that...


So, the Christmas store. Year 'round glitter and carols and cheer. It's a jolly place alright. I bought one ornament, a beaded star that Ryan didn't like, probably because the center bead was gold - he hates gold. I doubt he would turn down a gold brick if one were offered to him. The Christmas store was playing some music that Ryan and I both commented on; it was jazzy and had just a touch of Christmas flare. I asked the clerk what was playing and she showed me the CD. $15 for the CD. I don't think so. Have they not heard of amazon or E-bay? Hello. I bought the CD for $7 ($3 for the CD & $4 for shipping and handling). The CD just arrived in the mail today - that was fast! Now only 5 months before I can play it - the day after Thanksgiving is the official start of the Christmas Season for me. I get really annoyed when Christmas movies are played on Thanksgiving. Why not play Planes, Trains and Automobiles with John Candy? That's a Thanksgiving movie. Or the cute cartoon with the mice pilgrims coming to the New World?

He Done Did It

Saturday we went to a girlfriends house to celebrate her 30th birthday. It was baby central. There was a 14 month old, a 10 month old and Gavin (8 months). Then the birthday girl and a guest are pregnant and due only days apart. That left two couples without children. Gavin and the other baby, Augie, were having a grand old time doing the crawl, rocking back and forth and being the center of attention. Not even an hour after we got home Ryan and I were watching Gavin on hands and knees rocking back and forth when suddenly - he was just going forward. I said, "Ryan, is he crawling? He's crawling! Ryan! He's crawling!" Of course Ryan could see this with his own two eyes as he was right there. I'm glad we both got to see his first official crawl.

He's getting faster and faster with each passing day. We still have to baby proof the house. Now if I have to leave the room for a second I have to put him in the Pack 'n Play whereas before I just left knowing he would be in the same spot I left him in. Oh, there is so much to do!

Now that he's crawling we have to put carpet in his room. The floors are pine, a softwood, that have had 81 years of abuse and neglect. I don't think they can just be refinished, a lot of boards would need to be replaced because the grooves are so deep; that and the previous owner had a dog that wasn't so well house trained if you know what I mean. I hear stains on pine are near impossible to get out because the wood is so soft that the liquid really penetrates the fiber.
Ryan's step-dad has some cute carpet squares that he got from a church's nursery, they have bird houses and birds and butterflies on them that he is going to give to us.

Right now would be a great time to clean the house. Ryan's in bed and Gavin finally went to sleep so it's just me; even the dog is asleep. But now is also a great time to blog, besides, cleaning is noisy and it wouldn't be very nice of me to wake the boys.

Maybe tomorrow will be more productive. We'll see. If I count on a day to clean and do laundry then I can count on something going wrong (like a wonderful baby turning cranky and refusing naps) so I'm going to take tomorrow as it comes.

Perspective

I just found out that a woman I used to work with has breast cancer. Heather is only two years older than me. We could have bumped into each other at the Swedish Breast Center where she was diagnosed as I've been going there off and on for 6 months now.

How different our stories are. I found a lump and had a biopsy. It was negative. She found a lump and had a biopsy. It was positive. Her form of cancer is super nasty and aggressive. She has so many decisions to make in such a short period of time, the ramifications of which are extraordinary. Should she freeze her eggs, freeze embryos, have a lumpectomy or a mastectomy?

Heather has a blog which she is sharing with everyone; I've included a link on my home page. Check it out. Reading her words is like taking a trip into her head; you really feel like you are with her on her journey through this disease. It is her hope that her transparency will help others who are going through this and that others may see themselves in her and get checked.


I don't know what to do or what to say to her. I want to be there for her, I want to help her. I do know that you aren't supposed to just say, "If there is anything I can do for you, just call." No one calls when they need help. So far she said she would take help with meals but she can't eat too many carbs and no meat. Does anyone out there have any good and tasty vegetarian recipes that are light on the carbs?

Is there anyone out there who has had cancer and can tell me how I can best be a friend during this time to someone with cancer? It seems asking Heather what she needs would be the obvious way to find out but this is so new to her that she may not even know what she needs. But then I feel like I'm being presumptuous. Argh. I guess even a friend has to muddle through, right?

If you decide you don't want to read her blog, that's fine, just be sure to do monthly breast exams, ladies. Early detection is so important. I saw a pamphlet at the Breast Center on my last visit, I think I still have it my purse. I had two pamphlets, the first is titled, "Have You Been to a Check Your Boobies Party?" the website is http://www.checkyourboobies.org/ My one beef with the pamphlet - they have a picture of a breast on one of the pages. It is a perfect boob. Why? Why not have a picture of a normal boob? Not that my much maligned boob looks normal now - nor am I offering my boob up for a photo shoot. It has scar tissue that will hopefully fade over time but I can't complain too much, now can I? Everything was negative.


The other pamphlet is for the organization American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. I picked up the pamphlet while I was waiting at Than Brother's for my to go order of Pho (Vietnamese noodle soup). A month or so ago I heard an advertisement on the radio for Out of the Darkness Overnight, a walk to raise awareness for suicide prevention (and depression, which, obviously can lead to suicide). The Seattle walk is June 21st. I don't think I'll be up for it since my foot will be newly out of the boot at that point so I can give it a plug here - go to TheOvernight.org for more information.


When I heard the advertisement for the walk I really wanted to participate because I want to help take away the stigma that our society gives to depression. It makes people uncomfortable to talk about depression and suicide and I think if we become more comfortable talking about it more people will seek help and less people will commit suicide.


It doesn't bother me to tell people that I take an antidepressant; it bothers people to hear that I take an antidepressant. I have taken various ones over the years. Drugs help me. So does the sun. I buy full spectrum light bulbs for our light fixtures in the house so my brain is tricked into thinking its getting more sun that it really is.


When we start trying for baby #2 I'm going to have to quit taking Zoloft. I wonder how I'm going to do without it. I've been pretty good about trying to connect with other mothers who have babies close to Gavin's age in an attempt to keep me sane. I try to leave the house every day and have contact with the outside world. I will probably have to double up on those efforts when we start trying to conceive. I'm sure I could do ok without drugs by making sure I get plenty of fresh air and exposure to the sun (or the rays that manage to break through the clouds that are present October 1st - July 5th), eat a well balanced diet, get lots of exercise and meditate daily.

It is so much easier to take a pill.


Yeah, yeah, yeah. That is a horrible attitude but you know what? I know me. I know me pretty darn well. I am the kind of person who wishes her house was organized, that every paper clip had a home, where every scrap of paper was in its place, where every towel in the linen closet is folded perfectly, where every sock has its mate, all of the clothes in her closet are arranged by color then season and are all ironed and facing the same direction.


I want that but so long as it is my house and I'm in charge of it, it ain't happenin'. And you know what? I am coming to terms with that reality. I am 31 and I am just getting used to the idea that I don't have to be perfect to be happy. In my head I have always known that perfection is impossible and even if it were possible it wouldn't guarantee happiness but something, somewhere inside of me still believed that if I put my house in order then all will be well with my world.


I'm willing to settle for a clean house with a messy closet (or two). Now that I'm walking I am better able to clean the house but I'm still not 100%. Walking with this boot is not easy. I'm fooling myself into thinking that as soon as the boot comes off I will turn into Martha Stewart and start keeping house like a 'real' housewife. I bet my house would be only slightly cleaner than it is now if I was at home and didn't have Gavin to occupy my time.

Lunges

Gavin crawled this evening! He's been in the crawl position and rocking back and forth for a week or so now but today he got so worked up watching the dog that he lunged for her and actually moved forward. He didn't stop with the first lunge and continued, rock, rock, rock, lunge and he kept scooting forward. Ryan and I sat there in amazement and said, "He's crawling!"

Of course Gavin decided the best time to try out his new skills was in the middle of a diaper change. I usually manage to get the diaper off before he flips over onto his stomach. I take a number of kicks to the arms and legs as I clean him up. After he was cleaned up he rolled over and just took off after the dog. I was torn, let him crawl around and risk having him pee all over the area rug or put a diaper on and interrupt his first real crawl. I let him crawl.

Long Day and Even Longer Night

Today was exhausting. At a quarter to noon I knew I had to start getting Gavin and myself ready for our day in West Seattle that was to begin with lunch at 1:00. I went all out getting ready by pulling my hair back and applying mascara after I slathered on moisturizer with a squirt of foundation mixed in. I told you I went all out, foundation and mascara.


Our first stop was at Blue Willow Catering and Luncheonette on Oregon and California. There I met up with my former bosses and an agent from Keller Williams. I enjoyed the conversation as much as I enjoyed the unbelievable French Quiche. Their food is Delicious - its so good it gets a capital 'D'. I was slightly bummed that they didn't have their hummus on the specials board.

When Blue Willow first opened for lunch I was pregnant and ate lunch there frequently because they make a great chicken Cesar salad without using raw egg products. Since they were new and word that they served the best food in the Junction hadn't spread yet I would ask for the hummus and the owner would whip up a plate for me since they weren't too busy. I felt so special but no more. They are too busy to and I'm not pregnant - that belly and my big brown eyes and sheepish smile go a long way - now I just have to call ahead and ask if they have hummus on their menu for the day. Their hummus is worth a trip to West Seattle.


Gavin's appointment went well; he cried only briefly when the MA gave him his shot. Dr. Fiala thinks his frequent wakings at night are behavioral and not related to him being hungry because he is big enough that his last evening meal should be sufficient. She gave me some options: keep feeding him in the night or don't. She was very nice about it and told me she didn't follow her own advice with her first daughter. Tonight is the first night we are trying what she has told me in the past: let him cry for 15 minutes, go in his room, pat his tummy or put on his back and say, "It's time to sleep now, goodnight," then leave the room and repeat. She said if we do it now it will only take 3 nights but if we wait until he is 18 months it could take weeks and by that time he will know how to crawl out of his crib and will climb out and go to the door and bang his head against it until he falls asleep in front of the door.


That was all I needed to hear to realize I wanted to do sleep training now and not later. This is not the same as crying it out. At least I don't think it is because we will still go in at regular intervals to let him know we are still there until he falls asleep. We are trying to model our parenting after the attachment method that Dr. Sears teaches. My main beef with the attachment parenting is that I cannot find their advice on what do with frequent night wakings besides pick him up and feed him. I think what we are going to do starting tonight is a nice middle ground between the attachment parenting and the crying it out methodology.


Oooh, Gavin's lighting up the monitor into the red zone. I think it's time for the first visit. I'll let you know how it goes...


Not well.


I picked him up, kissed him, told him I loved him and that it was time to sleep before laying him back down. I don't know who this is going to be harder on, me or Gavin. I so just want to sit in the glider and nurse him then hold him and pat his back as he sleeps before I lay him back in his crib. That is my favorite part of the nighttime feedings; holding him against my chest and patting his back and kissing his temple as he sleeps. He is so precious; I can't stand to hear him scream.


If these last four minutes are any indication it is going to be a long, long, loud night with tears all around.


To keep my mind of my screaming son down the hall and his clear confusion as to why his beloved Mommy would deny him his midnight drink of warm milk I'll write about the rest of my day.

I parked at toward the south end of the Junction so I could stop at Georgia Blu and get a gift for my yet to be born niece in Virginia, I would say what it is but I think my sister-in-law reads this, and while in there I saw the cutest tent. I commented to the sales woman that the tent with 50's-ish printed cowboys on it was adorable. She said everyone loved it but they were having a hard time selling it. How much, I asked. $200.

Well, I think I found out why they aren't selling it. Sure it's cute but $200 for a tent that is clearly made for indoor use? C'mon.


After I left Georgia Blu I was waiting at the crosswalk on my knee scooter with Gavin in the Ergo minding my own business and out of the corner of my eye I could see two men stop the conversation they were having as they were facing each other and turn and stare at me. They may have thought they were being subtle but I could see them pointing at me and talking about me; I was only a few feet away. At one point I turned and looked at them but they didn't notice because they were too busy looking at the scooter and the baby. I was tempted to ask them if they had any questions I could answer.


My next stop was a brief one at Cupcake Royale. They serve up a mean cup of joe and I was jonesing for an Americano (one thing Blue Willow doesn't do exceptionally well is coffee). No sooner did the door close behind me than Gavin started yelling. A boy sitting with his mom and sister commented on my scooter. I heard the mom say something but didn't catch it so I turned and said, "The baby or this?" as I pointed to the scooter. He thought the scooter was pretty cool. I told him it was at first but that it wasn't so much after 6 weeks.


15 minutes are up. Time to go comfort Gavin and let him know I haven't abandoned him.


I feel like a cold hearted wench right now. What kind of mother lets her baby scream like this? Even after he falls asleep and I hear the aftermath of his crying each hiccough and sigh will be like a dagger in my heart.

He's starting to fade and it is about time for me to go back in for round three but I'm afraid if I go in now when he's fading I'll just be adding fuel to the fire. OK, it sounds like he just added a heap of coal to the fire and I won't be in .... no, now he's quiet.

Where was I? Ah, yes. Cupcake Royale. The line was longer than I wanted to wait in with a crying baby so I decided to go straight to the podiatrist's office and so I scooted my way around the block to his office. Gavin managed to fall asleep in the carrier on the ride over....

OK, Gavin time.

Well, that was just awful. I just repositioned him and fought the urge to hold him. Too bad he doesn't understand, "I love you," yet.

Good news from the doctor: I can walk! OK, I've had the ability to walk this whole time but I was given the green light so now I may walk. Woo-hoo! If using the scooter got looks before walking back to my car while pulling the scooter behind me lent itself to garnering a whole different kind of look.

In two more weeks I can shed the boot and a month after that the screws will be removed from my foot. In the meantime I have to work on the flexibility of my big toe three times a day for 10-15 minutes per session. A big toe stretching exercise doesn't sound like much but man it hurts! It feels like a knuckle that is at the painful point just before it pops - and just when my toe is at that point I'm supposed to hold it there for 30 seconds. But I will be diligent about the exercises because I want to be able to get back to normal walking ASAP.

Ahh! The screaming! It's not annoying, it's painful to listen to. That's my baby in there crying. He has big fat tears streaming down his sweet cheeks. I must be strong. He needs to sleep better for his own sake, too. Two and three hours at a time isn't healthy for him either.

Since I knew tonight was going to be difficult I rented Ratatouille and bought some stress food. Candy. The licorice is gone, now I have Nips candy. I just ate a Twinkie and cannot believe I thought those were crafted by dessert gods when I was a kid. Yuck. My memory of Twinkies is a far cry from what I just ingested.

It is almost time for my fourth visit to Gavin. After this visit I'm going to start Ratatouille. I have to watch it on the laptop since our Phillips DVR/DVD player SUCKS. We call it Ovit since we bought it after we bought a TiVo when our DVD player broke. The DVR part of it is not at all intuitive like the far superior TiVo - even Ryan can't figure it out and that's saying a lot - and the DVD part of it skips and freezes. I think it's time we get rid of it and buy a DVD player, plain and simple.

The hiccoughs started. Nope, back to crying. Silence. It has been 56 minutes since he woke up. I just peaked at him on the monitor, his head was bobbing with each hiccough and he is facing the opposite direction from when I put him in.

Ah. He's asleep. I think. I hope.

Milestone?

Gavin may or may not be crawling. He is doing something that is movement that resembles crawling but Ryan and I cannot agree on what that movement should be called. I think its crawling because he is definitely moving from a fixed point with purpose toward another point. Granted the movement is slow and the distance covered is an inch or two but it is still movement. If he can't get to the object he wants he will find something closer and roll over and pivot until he gets to something, anything, he can try to put in his mouth or grab, like, say, a fistful of dog hair or a cat's tail.

The is he crawling or not question reminds me of the Is-it-gas-or-a-smile question. Ryan and I had asked ourselves that a lot when Gavin was a few weeks old. With every facial grimace that could remotely resemble a grin we would exclaim, "He smiled! Did he? Was it a smile or gas?" Of course Gavin settled that question long ago with his big toothless, open mouth smiles - now they are big, open mouth two bottom teeth smiles which are often accompanied by squeals and screams.

Now that he is doing this thing that is kind of crawling we are doing the same thing but this time we know it is not gas. He still has gas but nothing that is propelling him across the carpet.
Watch out!

I wonder throughout the day if Gavin gets bored. We have three 'stations' of play in the living room. On the floor with a pile of blocks, stacking rings, rattles and a few plush toys then there is the exersaucer and the Johnny Jump Up. We go from station to station after naps and eating. I forgot a station: my lap. We sit and read books or sing songs or try to pet the dog with gentle strokes. Try is the operative word. He's going to think the label that goes with dog is 'gentle' instead of 'dog'.

Now that Gavin is interested in the animals in the house I think it is time to take him to the zoo. I don't know who will be more excited about the trip, me or him. I haven't been to the local zoo and I've been in Seattle almost 7 years. When we go I'm going to buy the yearly pass because I bet it won't be 7 years between visits.

Before we can go to the zoo I need to be released from this stupid boot. Recovery was only supposed to be 4-6 weeks. I don't recall being told that I would be in this boot for any period longer than 6 weeks. Of course I'm not going to take it off before the doctor tells me I can and I understand that the healing process doesn't always follow the prescribed plan but I wish it would!

Tomorrow I will see the podiatrist and present my scrawny shell of a leg to him so he can poke and prod it to see where my pain level is at. It usually goes something like this (imagine him running a toothpick across my foot or twisting, pulling and poking it):

Dr.: Tell me when it hurts
Me: ok... nope, nope, eh, a little, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!
Dr.: hm (with a slight look of concern on his face).

Uh oh. Gavin just cried. Maybe he'll go back to sleep although I doubt it since he's been stirring for the last five or so minutes. He's only been asleep for 3 hours. Right on schedule. Last night he woke up 4 times. FOUR TIMES. Ryan has been great though because after the four a.m. waking he can't go back to sleep so if Gavin doesn't go back to sleep after I nurse him Ryan will take the little guy with him out into the living room.

I'm not the only one with a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Gavin is going to see his doctor as well. He's going to get checked out a bit and maybe we will figure out why he quit sleeping through the night oh so very long ago. He's also going to get a shot, which one I don't know off the top of my head.

Next month he is going to have an ultrasound on his kidneys and a VCUG. I don't remember what VCUG stands for but it is a test where they measure the volume of the bladder; if I remember correctly they measure it full and after it has been emptied. I'm not quite sure how they do that with an infant who has no control over his bladder, though.

His doctor ordered these tests because he had a bladder infection a couple of weeks ago. She was baffled as to why he would have a bladder infection - I asked and she told me that him being uncircumcised only slightly increases his chances of getting such an infection and she told me (without me asking) that this infection is no reason to have him circumcised. She thinks the tests are going to come back negative but is doing them to be safe since it is unusual for an infant, especially a boy, to get a bladder infection.

He did go back to sleep! Woo-hoo!!!

Tomorrow I'm also picking up my new glasses! I've had my current pair of glasses at least 7 years and it's been 6 years since my last eye exam. I don't remember if I posted on this or not but my eyesight has improved a little. The optometrist thinks its because I'm not sitting in front of a computer screen all day long anymore.

I know a few of you who read this (Crina) would like to see a picture of me in the new glasses. I'm going to beat you to the request. No. Sorry. I cannot promise to take a picture and upload it or e-mail it. Look, it took me nearly 8 months to upload pictures of Gavin and distribute them. We should be heading to the 'Couv soon (and by soon I mean maybe this summer) and we can meet up then and you can see them in person. We haven't been to Vancouver since Christmas! I need to make the rounds the next time we are down there and introduce Gavin to all of the wonderful ladies who attended my baby shower.

Now when I think of my baby shower I think of my friend Crina's baby shower which was a couple of months before mine. Her mom made Romanian cabbage rolls for me. Yum!!! I've been craving them again. I devoured the cabbage rolls her mom sent home with me within a week. If you google Romanian cabbage rolls a lot of recipes pop up; I'm going to have to ask Crina's mom which recipe most closely resembles hers.

If you are reading this and thinking to yourself, "Wow, April's nuts for writing about cabbage rolls. Who really cares?" then you my friend, have never had a Romanian cabbage roll for if you had you too would be writing of the deliciousness that is contained within the cabbage leaf - stuffed with pork and beef and spices and rice. They are nothing like the tomato sauce cabbage rolls of my youth (sorry, mom) - these contain far less cabbage and a lot more meat. Can't go wrong with pork - unless you are Jewish, or Muslim, or... what other religions disallow the consumption of the delicious pig? Eh. I'm so glad the apostle Paul had that dream... wait, was it Peter? The dream where God told him to not call unclean what he has made? The dream that gave the green light on pork. I suppose I could just google it (my bible is in the bedroom and I don't want to wake Ryan). It is past my bedtime but I don't want to go to bed because I know the second I get to that comfy sleepy dreamland place Gavin is going to wake up.

Besides, I should take a bath tonight because tomorrow is going to be a full day and I probably won't get a chance to take a bath tomorrow. I will have to choose between a nap and a bath and sleep usually wins out but who wants to go to the doctor all dirty? Fooey. I'll take a bath tonight since it is easier to stay awake now then to wake up early tomorrow to take a bath while Ryan is still home.

Demoted

I reached full weight bearing status on Monday! I had freedom to walk around! But with that freedom to walk about came pain. I called the podiatrist to see how much I could walk and if there should be any pain with walking. The person who was taking my message when I called asked me, in response to my question of how much I could walk, "How much walking are you going to do?" Me: "That's my question. How much can I walk?"

I waited for a call back but after 24 hours I called again. The nurse vaguely remembered something about me calling. They told me to come in to see the doc the next day and in the mean time I should be non-weight bearing. Of course they told me this while I was in my car on my way to pick out new glasses with a girlfriend.

There shouldn't be pain at this point when I walk and parts of my foot are numb is caused by the straps on the top of the boot being tight. When the straps are loose my foot feels better because here is less numbness and tingling but the straps are supposed to be tight when you walk in the boot. So the doc demoted me to half weight bearing which means I'm back on the crutches and using the scooter. Which means I'm confined to the house again during the day.

Hopefully he will have some better news for me when I see him next week because this is week six of the 4-6 week recovery period. I was fully expecting to be walking by now, and not in this huge boot. Boo-hoo for me.

S**T Happens

A friend recently had a post on her blog titled Spit Happens about her baby. This one is about the pooh, and I ain't talkin' of the Winnie variety.

Oh the wonderful places one can poo. One can poo in one's diaper. One can poo while taking a bath, while riding in the car, while eating dinner (or breakfast or lunch for that matter). But where is the best place of all to poo? The car, of course.

You gotta love babies, they are pretty transparent. Red face? Flared nostrils? Grunting? All signs are a go for a poo job.

This afternoon I picked up Ryan from work and we headed to Renton to buy a crib from Ikea and to kill two birds with one stone Ryan stopped by an office of some contractors he just worked with to hand out his business cards and spread the word that he's on his own now and available for hire...


So, Gavin and I waited in the car. The sun was shining and the wind blowing so I opened a door and we enjoyed the sunshine and breeze until a brazen bee charged me. The menacing thing flew right at me as I sat there trapped - to leave the car meant going past the bee that was blocking my exit. I threw my jacket at it but it was undeterred, it flew back and sat on the door jamb. This time he left enough room for me to get by, but just enough. I hopped out of the car and thought of slamming the door shut and squishing the bee but thought better of it. What if the bee flew inside the car before the door shut? It would be bee vs. baby and I think it would be a lose lose situation since Gavin would try eating the bee if he could get his hands on it. The bee made the situation easy, it flew away.

Gavin was getting fussy (red face, flared nostrils, grunting) so I took him out of his car seat. It was at that time I heard an explosion only rivaled by Mt. St. Helen's 28 years ago. This called for an immediate diaper change so I grabbed the diaper bag.


Uh-oh.

No wipes.


No changing pad.

I called Ryan and asked him to bring some wet paper towels with him when he returned to the car.


I laid my windbreaker on top of the blanket we keep in the car for the dog to lie on in the cargo area and laid Gavin on top of that. It was at that time I noticed my hand was wet. I sat Gavin up and peered over his back to see.... poo. Lots and lots of poo.

Apparently when I sat him down it forced everything up and out of his diaper. It was on his shirt, his pants and my jacket.


I cleaned him up the best I could and when Ryan came out we had a semi-clean naked baby in the back of the in the middle of the parking lot. Good times. I'm glad it was warm out. So is Gavin.

Fortunately we did have a change of clothes for the little guy and fortunately for me there were bathrooms I could use to scrub my hands. Don't want poopy hands touching baby furniture at Ikea, now do we?

******

We found a crib we could live with at Ikea. It was pretty simple, white, converts to a toddler bed. Great. What we couldn't find was the crib in the warehouse area. It was out of stock but coming in next week sometime. Lame.


We want a crib NOW not next week. We want Gavin sleeping in his own room NOW not next week so our next stop was Babies 'R Us. Ryan found a beautiful crib by Babi Italia for only $229. That is a steal for a beautiful crib by a good manufacturer. The only bummer was that we left our 15% off coupon at home and I would have to go back the next day and buy it. A helpful sales associate was trying to figure out a way we could take it home today and bring the coupon in later for a refund of the price difference. It was while she was doing this she looked the crib up and saw that it was out of stock. It was out of stock in the entire Puget Sound region and there was no indication of when the next shipment was going to come in!!!

We returned home very dejected. I got back on Craigslist to look for cribs. My main beef with cribs off Craigslist is that you have to ask each and every person for more information about their cribs because the post never gives all of the information you need, like year it was bought, manufacturer and model. The basics to see if it has been recalled.


I did find a lovely crib, however. It was recalled but the replacement parts have been put on it and it is safe. I have an e-mail out to the owner telling her I want to buy it tomorrow. Hopefully she will call me and we can get the crib and be done with all of this.

Someone lent us their crib but it's missing some parts and is going to take a couple of weeks to have the parts shipped to us so we decided to bite the bullet and just pony up for a crib. Now Ryan has to disassemble the crib as far as he was able to get and put in the basement for my friend to pick up and we have to return the cradle to my father-in-law who built it (it goes to each grandchild to use) so we can have room for the new crib. The cradle is great but Gavin only slept in it for about a month before he started sleeping in the swing then our bed. That little dude has gone from cradle to swing to co-sleeper to our bed to pack 'n play. The crib will be the sixth stop in sleeping arrangements for him.

And now before I shower and go to bed I have to go finish the applesauce that I started yesterday for my moms group. We all are making something to share and I volunteered to make applesauce. All I have to do now is puree the lumpy apples I cooked last night in the leaky blender we have been thinking about getting rid of for a couple of years now.

I'm so tired, the keys on the keyboard are getting harder and harder to press down on. I need to go to bed earlier and Gavin needs to stop waking up every two hours. Little turkey.

Fettered Freedom

Over the past two weeks I have been gradually bearing more weight on my right leg per doctors orders. By Monday or Tuesday of next week I will be full weight bearing. Woo-hoo. Until then I can walk with the use of crutches to help me keep the full weight off my right foot.

I had another ultrasound today to check the breast that had all the problems (see posts from January or February if you want the gory details). Everything checked out fine, slightly improved. This time I don't have to go back for six more months - and if I'm good I will go in on time and not put it off like I did this last appointment that I was supposed to have scheduled for last month. I was just DONE with going to the doctor. I have to go for my foot and if Gavin needs something I'll take him but unless I turn purple or something looks like it's going to fall off I refuse to go to the doctor. Sheesh. I think I've fit a lifetime of medical visits in the first quarter of this year alone.

Are you curious about my freedom? We figured a way that I can leave the house with Gavin. Safely leave the house with Gavin. Now that I can walk down the stairs using both feet I realized I can put Gavin in the Ergo carrier and walk down the stairs, across the walk, down the second set of stairs, across the sidewalk and grassy strip to the car.

Ryan took me to the doctor's office today for my ultrasound and I was able to drive home - by MYSELF!!! To celebrate my freedom I went through the Starbucks drive-through for a single Americano and called my mom. When she asked me what I was doing I said, "I'm DRIVING!!!".

The real test for my freedom came when I arrived home.

Able to get out of the car - check

Able to get crutches out of the car - check

Able to put baby in the Ergo carrier - check

Able to carry grocery bag in left hand while holding left crutch - check

Able to carry coffee in right hand - No. I didn't even try. I left it on top of the car for a second trip.

Able to walk, crutch, carry baby and grocery bag simultaneously - check.

I did manage to carry Gavin and bag but it was a slow process.

S-L-O-W

Really, really slow.

After each step I stopped, centered myself and continued with the next step. Just as I reached the first set of stairs a woman scurried up to me and offered her assistance. I gladly handed her the bag of groceries as I made my way up the stairs; slowly made my way up the stairs. Even in my super slow-mo trek I still managed to lose my right crutch in a tangle of poppies that were trying to take over the staircase. The crutch fell and I stopped, the woman gasped. She picked up the crutch, I thanked her, and we continued up the stairs.

I thanked the woman profusely for her kindness and told her I would go put that baby in the house and come back out for the groceries if she would just leave them on the stairs - my plan the whole time. The woman was so nice - as I made my way in the house I looked up to see the woman get in her car and drive off. This woman pulled over just to help me. Isn't that so sweet!?

Once inside I put Gavin on the floor to play with some toys then I brought in the groceries and made a third trip for my coffee. Carrying coffee while using crutches is not the brightest thing in the world to do. At least the coffee had plenty of time to cool off while I made my way to and from the house so very slowly.

Before my bible study this evening I went to Westwood Village to buy some everyday drinking glasses as I noticed yesterday we are down to 6 tall glasses and 4 short glasses. Ryan loaded my scooter in the car so I could get around easily while shopping. Of course, getting the scooter out of the car in a tight parking space was challenging.

People don't know what to think when they see me scooting along a sidewalk or flying down an aisle in a store. As much as I am coming to loathe the scooter it is FUN to use at Costco or at the grocery store late at night when there aren't many customers. You can fly down the aisles. I feel like I'm 13 not 31 when I am zipping up and down the aisles. It is hard to maneuver on the sidewalks though, or on any sort of incline and going across bumps in the sidewalk hurt my knees. But it is worth it to get out of the house.

The Tonight Show is on right now; I look up every now and then and listen in while he interviews Jack Black and Clay Aiken. Here is a scary thought: I thought, "Hmm, Jack Black is kind of cute."

Ah! Jack Black!

Then I saw Clay Aiken and I thought, "Hmm, Clay Aiken is kind of scary looking."

eek - Conan O'Brien is up... he is just plain old funny looking. He's super rich, can he not afford to hire someone to style his hair more attractively? He and Donald Trump can start the Bad Hair Club for Filthy Rich Men.

That's all I have. I can come and go from the house as I so desire but won't because gas is freakin' expensive! It's over $4 a gallon! I am thinking if I want to leave the house I'm just going to take the bus. It will be a good reason to go to Pike Place and do some grocery shopping or get to learn the international district a bit. I need to find some good pho (pronounced "fuh") closer than Than Brothers in West Seattle or Pho Cyclo in SODO (south downtown).

Does anyone out there have a good pho recipe? Pho wha?

Pho is a delicious Vietnamese noodle soup. You can have it with chicken or beef or tofu and you add cilantro, basil, bean sprouts, hoisen sauce, hot sauce, soy sauce, fish sauce and/or jalapenos. It is so yummy. At Than Brother's they give you enough to feed an army with their small and it's less than $5 and they give you a cream puff with your meal.

I'm so hungry for pho. I had it last weekend when Ryan's dad was out helping in the basement since there aren't any pho joints in Wenatchee. I can't say I'm surprised Wenatchee is short on Vietnamese restaurants.

It's time for me to call it a night but not before I scavenge in the kitchen for something that will satiate my craving for pho.

Goodbye, Celeste

I've been in a special relationship for about two years now that is coming to an end. This relationship is one I never thought I would have; I thought I wasn't 'that kind' of person. Growing up the thought of this kind of relationship struck me as odd and unnecessary; it wasn't until a few years ago that I could see how special a relationship of this nature could be.

The special relationship that I've succumbed to is that of hair stylist/client. It took 29 years but I finally found someone who knows me. She gets me - well, she 'gets' my hair. I suppose it didn't actually take 29 years to find a hair stylist. I was bald then had only a little hair for the first year of my life, then I just didn't care until after high school.

Who is this Hair Whisperer, you ask? Celeste Farrar is her name - at least for a little while longer at least. She is getting married, she may take her fiance's name, I don't know and moving to Montana. I am sad as are many of my girlfriends that I see every week (see previous post) because we all started going to her regularly after seeing what a fabulous job she did with all of our respective crowns of glory.

B.C. (before Celeste) I had no loyalties because no one gave me a reason to be loyal. Hair cuts were just hair cuts. If I wanted my hair styled I would pony up for a more expensive salon but no one ever got me to go back.

Side story: the first time I paid "big bucks" (I think I paid $25 which was a LOT out of my minimum wage job at Blimpie while I was attending college) was 1996. The salon was kitty corner to the Blimpie where I worked evenings and weekends and a couple of doors down from Albertson's at the new (now dilapidated) Fisher's Landing shopping center. It was with great excitement I entered the salon because I knew exactly what I wanted: the Jennifer Aniston (Rachel Green/"Friends") hair style.

That is exactly what I got. I left the salon looking like Jennifer Aniston and I did until I washed my hair the next day and one other time when I took the inordinate amount of time it took to style it the way the hair dresser did. It took me nearly two hours to style it to my liking. That's probably why I only styled it once. Who knew using a curling iron and 'product' was a learned skill?

I heard such great things about Celeste and I saw all the great work that she did with my friends that the first time I saw her I placed a great deal of faith in her talented hands and keen eyes. I gave her a general length I wanted my hair and told her to do whatever she thought would look best with my shape of face. She asked me a few questions then flew into action - but not before washing my hair and giving the best scalp and neck massage. What a great way to start a hair cut.

Now I have to start my search for a great stylist over. There is a salon just around the corner from my house that I'm going to try. I hope they are good because it would be so darn convenient to just walk over and get my hair cut. No driving across town, hoping there isn't a Mariner's game or bad traffic on I-5 or 99, hoping to find close parking, not having to walk past a Macrina Bakery to be tempted to go inside.

Farewell, Celeste, Montana is lucky to have you.

Women and Men

It will be seven years this November that I've lived in Seattle. For as long as I've lived in Seattle I've been in the same bible study. Originally we all lived in West Seattle but over the years we've spread out, one in West Seattle, one on Beacon Hill, one in Green Lake, one in Ballard and one on the east side. Others have moved considerably farther, Missouri, Northern Ireland and Kenya. As people have moved away or moved on from the group new women come in.

We've been holding steady at 6 ladies for a couple of years now and we don't see any change on the horizon. It's so wonderful to have a mix of married and single women, some with kids, some without.

These ladies have seen me at my highest high (hours after giving birth) and at my lowest low (nothing I'm going to broadcast to the world). They were there for me when I was new to Seattle and didn't know a soul except Ryan.

Sometimes I think we should rename our group since we don't study all that much. Two ladies left the bible study because they wanted to be in a bible study that studied the bible. Those of use who are left are OK when we go weeks without studying and choose instead to socialize. Our weekly gathering is a highlight of my week. I think I would explode if I did not see these women on a regular basis to decompress as the volume of unspoken words inside me would build up to a dangerous level.

We all enjoy just sitting around and talking. And talking and talking some more. The husbands do not begrudge us our time with our girls because if we don't have the girls to talk to we turn our need to talk to the men in our lives. We know our husbands love us but we have been married long enough that we know a husband makes a bad girlfriend.

Ryan's sister and family were in town recently. Our niece, who will be 3 in September, unwinds before going to bed by talking to herself. She hashes out the events of the day and all that she learned. It is really amusing to listen to (over the monitor) but I kind of feel like I'm eavesdropping.

The way she talks about all of the events of her day kind of threw Ryan for a loop; he wondered how long she would do that for. I told him that she is a girl and the only thing that will change is that she will probably stop saying everything out loud. I don't think he believes me that the woman's brain doesn't have an off switch.

I'll never forget a conversation we had on a trip to or from Vancouver several years ago. It was in his old white Honda Civic so it has been at least 3 years. I think we were in a no-mans' land as far as the radio was concerned, that or only country music came in and I was all out of talk so I turned to Ryan and said, "Penny for your thoughts."

Ryan: "Hmph? Uh, nothin'."
Me: "Penny for your thoughts. Whatcha thinkin'?"
Ryan: "Nothin'"
Me: "C'mon. What are you thinking?"
Ryan: "Nothing."
Me: "You can't not be thinking."
Ryan: "Yep, I can."
Me. "It can't be a blank canvas up there!"
Ryan: "Yep. It can."
Me: "No! You can just be and not have a thought?"
Ryan: "What, you can't?"
Me: "No. It's like a ticker tape up there. Non stop."

We caught a brief glimpse in the brain of the opposite sex.

Here is how I view Ryan's brain: Picture a vast room lined with rows of filing cabinets. All of the filing cabinets are arranged by subject and within each subject they are arranged alphabetically. The math, physical science and music sections are packed pretty densely with filing cabinets. Every drawer of every cabinet is shut and only opens when information within is needed.

April's brain:

The room is still vast and there are filing cabinets. That is where the similarities end. Drawers on the cabinets pop open at random times and files are frequently misfiled; the cabinets are not neatly arranged by subject but are scattered about, there may be a science cabinet next to a language cabinet. Next to each cabinet is a scents cabinet. Science (Anatomy and Physiology t be specific) has a cabinet next to it that has all sorts of fun scents like formaldehyde, death and ham preservatives. The ham preservatives is a fun story I should share some time. If you aren't a vegetarian before I tell the story you may be afterwards. I was off ham lunch meat for a long time.

I'm too tired to continue. I think the whole reason I started this post was to relay one funny little story. So I'll tell my funny little story then go to bed on the tiny slice of bed that Gavin has left for me.

Last week I got my girlfriends to take me out of the house for our weekly meeting. Any chance I have to get out of the house I jump at since I'm house bound right now. We went to Cupcake Royale in West Seattle. After finding close street parking we walked/crutched to the store only to find out they were closing in 10 minutes. Lame. Right before we got there Heidi called Heather to tell her that we were not meeting at my house like originally planned but at Cupcake Royale so she called Heather again to tell her we were moving to a new locale.

Next stop: Matador. They have super yummy steak nachos. I was looking forward to some delicious Mexican food. We sit down, eat some chips and order our drinks. One margarita and two waters. The waitress needs to see every one's id since we were in a bar. No problem.

Wait, problem.

I searched my purse section by section. Then I emptied my purse section by section. No id. My friend who ordered the margarita saw my insurance card and said, "This has her birthday and this (holding up my Costco card) has her picture?" It was a nice try. But it didn't work. We got the boot.

It has been a long, long time since I was kicked out of a bar.

As much as it sucked being kicked out it was still kind of flattering. I know I don't look 21 but still...

Heidi called Heather again and we went across the street to another establishment that shall remain nameless because they didn't ask for id when drinks of an adult nature were ordered. I even tried Krissy' Belgian type beer that she was sampling - woo, was it ever sweet. Not my cup of barley. Or malts. Or hops... whatever.

By the way, I found my driver's license. It was in the coat I took with me to the hospital the day I had surgery.

Pinchable Cheeks

Yeah, I know. CUTE!!! Look at those cheeks! This picture induces the baby munchies. Baby munchies are not about a baby that has the munchies, because that is just wrong - how could you even think that? C'mon. No, baby munchies are what happen when you say, "Ah! You are too cute," then proceed to kiss the daylights out of the baby.

This afternoon I hosted my mommy group so I could attend since I'm still not walking or driving. At each meeting we give our 'highs and lows' for the week. It is not something I prepare in advance and give much thought to so when it is my turn to share I just spit out the first things that pop in my mind. After group I put Gavin down for a nap and was lying there nursing him and thinking to myself, "I didn't tell them the best news. I'll tell them next week that Gavin quit biting me while nursing. This is big news, maybe I could mention it if I have occasion to e-mail the ladies this - CHOMP

No kidding. I was thinking about how Gavin hasn't bitten me in a while when he bit hard. Yowza!

The biting is painful. He was biting me every time he ate. Nursing was become less relaxing as I would tense up a few minutes into a feeding session trying to predict when was a good time to close the bar before Gavin had a chance to do any nibbling. But as painful as the biting is he does something else that is as annoying as the biting is painful.

He snaps my bra. When he lies on his back he will lift his arm up over his head then bring it down sharply and slap his belly. He does it repeatedly and when he's nursing he grabs my bra instead of slapping his belly. He grabs the bra and pulls until it snaps. Then he repeats. And repeats. And repeats.

Can you believe he is 7 months old already? Time flies! There is another baby boy in my group who is only 10 days older than Gavin that has started crawling. That little dude flies, baby lightening! It makes me a little nervous knowing what is in store for us right around the corner.

Installed

My father-in-law visited this weekend. He and Ryan spent the whole weekend installing doors in the basement and painting trim.

We've had the doors for quite some time but since they were not pre-hung it made installation a very daunting task. Since I am of no help in the Department of Handy - for many reasons (I measure twice, forget twice, measure two more times and still cut wrong; I have Gavin to watch after; and I whine...) Karl came to the rescue.

It is amazing what a door does to a space. In place of the gaping hole there is a door in the guest bedroom, the bathroom, the office and at the middle landing of the stairs on the way to the basement. Now, one can use the bathroom. The bathroom was operational before but now those who like a little privacy can use it without fear of someone in the alley walking by and peeking in. Our guests can get dressed in their room without fear of someone barging in unannounced (I did that to my other father-in-law but he was just taking his inhaler, whew)! Ryan can work in the office and not have to hear me banging around in the kitchen.

Yea for doors! Yea for father's-in-law who drive 3 hours to do hard labor all weekend only to go home and do more hard labor (he's building a house right now)!

Forward Progress!

Gavin and I were sitting on the floor yesterday playing with blocks. Well, I was sitting and watching Gavin play with his blocks. He really only plays with one, the blue round one. If one of the blue round ones isn't available he will not refuse the orange star or purple plus or green square - they all go readily in the mouth.


Little G finally toppled over or I put him on his tummy, I don't remember which. Either way, it led to crying. Profuse crying. Did you know it is very traumatic to be placed on your tummy? Gavin wails when he has his tummy time. He lifts his head and torso off the ground with his unbelievably cute chubby arms and looks at me, all the while screaming, as if to say, "But I thought you loved me? Why are you doing this to me?" His head looks HUGE when he lifts it up while on his belly. It is, of course, SO CUTE!


So, there he is, lying on the floor and crying, big fat tears streaming down his nose and plopping on the rug. There I am, mean mom that I am, trying to entice him with toys just out of his reach. Thus far he is able to pivot - he stays in place but goes in a circle and scoot backwards a bit. Oh, and he does the crawl but he doesn't crawl. His legs move like he wants to crawl but he doesn't put his feet underneath his body so he doesn't go anywhere.

Until... yesterday.


My attention had been diverted away at something else and when I looked back I saw he had his right leg bent and under his body. He pushed and went forward!

Forward progress!


Woo-hoo!


Unfortunately along with forward progress came a face plant.


That lead to more crying. I imagine he was very confused as to why I was mixing the sympathetic, "Oh, poor baby," with the excited, "Way to go Gavin!" and "Yea!"


I had my boot off to let my poor foot breath since it was 86 degrees in the house and the boot made a handy tool with which to let Ryan know to come upstairs. I pounded the boot on the floor several times until Ryan came upstairs so I could share the good news of the almost crawl.


We put little G back on his tummy but there was no more crawling... hmmm... it appears he is waking up. Not bad since it has been 4 hours since he went down the evening.


Yep. Four hours is a good thing these days. He has been waking up every 2-3 hours at night. The only thing that puts him back to sleep is a snack ala mom.


Dang it!!! His eyes are open (we have the video monitor - I'm not psychic)... *gasp*


HE FELL BACK ASLEEP!!!


I am really confused. There must be some interference because I hear some music coming across the monitor that kind of sounds like Tool or Nine Inch Nails. As much as I like me some Tool and NIN, I don't listen to KISW (local hard core rock station) and I don't have my alarm radio set to anything but static (white noise to put the G to sleep). Yep, it's KISW - the music is over. I should go turn it off but I'm afraid of disturbing Gavin.


It's Ryan's alarm clock. Mystery solved. Gavin is awake again. Hard core rock doesn't seem to soothe the baby. Go figure.


Mystery part II: why is Ryan's alarm clock set to KISW? He hates music that sounds angry. (His words, not mine).


Mystery part II solved: I seem to recall monkeying with the radio on his alarm. I thought I put it back on his station, though.


Oops.

Dude!

Gavin's nap is going to be over any minute now so I gotta make this quick.

I'm back home! Yippee! I miss the easy access and great care my MIL provided but it's so nice to be at home with Ryan and my stuff that I can't do anything with because I can't carry it around.

I left the power supply for the laptop at my MIL's house and therefore have to wait for Gavin to go to sleep before I can hobble down to the basement to get on the computer and check my e-mail. I'm getting pretty good at using the crutches.

Today I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher, washed some pots and pans, cleaned the counter tops, pulled the laundry hampers from my bedroom to the living room and sorted the clothes for Ryan and... ah, I almost forgot the most challenging task of all: lunch. I made lunch. And by 'made' I mean heated up a sandwich in the microwave that I assembled at Dream Dinners before surgery that Ryan heated in the oven last night. The challenging part was getting me, my one good leg, two crutches, plate with sandwich and a can of soda teetering on top over to the couch. It was not easy. It was not fast. It was a little painful.

When I'm ready to walk again my left leg is going to be a rock while my right leg is going to be an atrophied, gelatinous leg shaped blob. I swear my right calf has already lost all of its muscle tone.

There is so much more house work to be done but my toes in my new and improved foot started to go numb so I figured that was as good a time as any to watch the boob tube.

I almost forgot the whole reason I started this "Dude!" post!

So, here I am checking my e-mail, minding my own business - I'm at home, not a lot of other people's business I can mind, right? Above me is a small daylight basement window in the office. I see a shadow pass over the minimal light that is coming in through the small window on this super gray day in Seattle in May. What do I see when I look up? The man who was putting the last installement of topsoil in our yard after the oil tank removal/contamination/clean-up/restoration that started back in AUGUST.

Hmm, I thought to myself. What is he doing in that corner of the yard by the old window frames that we've yet to take to the dump? In the corner where the tall fence and gate meet? The corner where no one can see him from ground level as he is hidden by the house, a gate and a fence? Ah, I see. He is peeing!

Dude!

We have toilets in our house! Two. Granted, only one of the toilets comes with the great amenity known as a door but he obviously doesn't care about that. (The doors in the basement are coming at the end of the month when my father-in-law comes out to help Ryan install them - and the trim. Woo-hoo!!! We are almost done)!

I really, really, really wanted to tap on the window. Really. But I didn't. Then I just hoped he wouldn't look down when he turned around and left. At least he peed facing away from the window.

My knee scooter is going to be delivered at 3:00 today, in 40 minutes. That means I should head up stairs so I can use the marvel known as a toilet in which I can empty my bladder before my new wheels arrive.

Blogger, Interrupted

My last post was not saved properly so half of my post was lost. Nerdy.


I'm going to do my best to recreate the rest of my news flashes. Where did I leave off? Ah, yes. The shower.


So, there I was sort of standing in the shower, listing severely to the left when I saw my feet side by side for the first time since surgery. The left one was just hanging out, all white and bulging with it's smaller bunion. Then there was the right foot, still black and blue and tinted from the iodine prep, but it was much, much smaller than the left foot. It is a completely different shape. It is so weird to have the shape of your foot change; I knew it was going to change shape but it is something else to see an appendage morph like that.


I'm guessing that all of the shoes I gave away 2 months ago because they were too small would now fit . It is just as well since they were all high heels - something I could wear on a more frequent basis if my left foot wasn't developing a bunion. Stupid feet. They ruin fashion. Not that I'm a fashionista but it is nice to wear sexy heels every now and again.


It was at Ryan's office Christmas party that I last wore heels. I felt like a decrepit old woman as each step hurt more than the previous one. As much as I like the looks of them I won't buy more heels until after I have the left bunion taken care many, many, many years from now. This whole not walking thing sucks. Really. Although wheeling around in a wheelchair is fun - but only because I know it's temporary.


If you have a weak stomach regarding bugs you may not want to read this last bit.


Did you know it is tick season in the northwest? I do. Kea, my dear doggy, got one last weekend. Ryan took her to the vet on Monday to make sure there wasn't more we needed to do for her while we were home for my doctors appointment. When we got back to my MIL's house we saw a bulge on her head - another tick. Then the neighbor lady took Kea and her dog for a walk. More ticks glommed on under her collar.


My MIL held Kea on her dog bed while I pulled the blood suckers out with tweezers. It was so gross. The smallest ones that hadn't attached yet were like the tiniest spider you could imagine but the ones that we missed and were sucking away for a couple of days were ginormous - think the size of a pencil top eraser.


Ticks are nearly impossible to kill but I was still afraid of splatter if I squeezed too hard with the tweezers on the bigger ticks so I covered the bug with a tissue and just peeked while pulling. To kill them my sister-in-law who lives in the sticks and deals with ticks on her dogs said you have to nuke 'em in the microwave. Yep. My MIL put the big daddy tick in the microwave and after about 30 seconds or so we heard a loud *POP*. We simultaneously said, "Eeew!" then did the bug dance; you know, like someone just flicked a spider off you and you freak out with creepy crawly skin.

News Flash

Ryan gave notice at his job last week; his last day of work will be next Friday. After that he is striking out on his own so if you know of anyone who needs a highly skilled senior transportation engineer with a bunch of letters behind his name and title then lemme know.

He is really excited about this next chapter in his career and I'm excited for him. He had lots of experience managing projects in his soon to be former office but he did not forsee his future with the company taking him to the places that he wants to go (mainly up).

Until he procures his own business he is going to do contract work for a friend in the field who is swamped with work so we aren't going to go hungry anytime soon.

That is the big news in the Jahns household.

Now for the minor news portion of this blog...

I'm going back home this weekend. I've been staying at with my in-laws who have been taking great care of me. I just miss Ryan. I don't want to just see him on the weekends. The plan is for me to rent a knee scooter so I can get around the house. If I need to carry Gavin I will put him in the ergo carrier that I'm going to get this weekend (my mother's day gift).

By the way, if you know of any soon-to-be mom's out there who are looking at baby carriers and they are considering the Baby Bjorn - tell them to skip it and get the Ergo instead. Everyone I've talked to says the Baby Bjorn hurts their back and I've been told it is not very comfortable for the baby, either.

The podiatrist told me I can put 10-20 pounds of pressure on my right foot right now - just enough to keep your balance when standing. I can do that for the next two weeks then I can increase the weight to 10 pounds a day and start to move my ankle a whopping 20 degrees up and down. Ooh, I'm going to wear myself out with all of that exercise.

I'm looking forward to going to the gym with Ryan when I get home. I can still do crunches and I can start lifting weights. The good doc even said I can use the lifecycle if I use no resistance and keep my boot on.

The really exciting news, almost as exciting as Ryan quitting his job is that I can now get my foot wet in the shower/tub! Woo-hoo! Who knew having a clean right foot could feel so good!

Pretty Please

Can you help me? Help me, please. Please help me.

Don't worry, I don't need help of an urgent nature. I just need some insight into a matter of being rude or not as polite as one could be.

The question is regarding the use of the word "please". More specifically using the word please in a close relationship, say between a husband and a wife. Now, this husband and wife scenario is completely fictional.

When one is in a situation to need near constant help is it rude to make a request without using please? Say, to ask, "Can you bring me a glass of water? Thanks," instead of, "Can you please bring me a glass of water? Thanks."

If it was brought to the attention of the one making all of the requests that they never used please when making a request and then they started to use please sporadically is that OK? If the issue is that please is "never" used then is it acceptable to give the stink eye when please is used some of the time but not every time?

Also, let's not get into the poor grammar of the question being asked; yes, I'm being a bit of a hypocrite about my own poor grammar when I got all huffy about the who-whom sign at Barnes and Noble, but I digress as that is not the issue at hand.

Please leave a comment - all of you readers who read and are afraid to comment, now is your chance to jump in! A simple answer of, "it is acceptable/not acceptable to use please" is fine but feel free to expand on your thoughts.

Thanks. My marriage, er, I mean, some random person's marriage thanks you.