Confession

I have a confession to make. I am sure that some of you will think that I am overreacting. Others will probably find themselves unable to be my friend.

Y'see, my confession? It's sorta disturbing.

But, I have to get it out. It is eating away at me. Corroding my insides.

I hate balloons.

Oh, sure they are great decorations and fun for a party, but I have 2 children. They both LOVE balloons.

And we occasionally frequent the type of restaurant that will give a balloon to their young patrons for good behavior. (Applebees, I'm looking at YOU)

The problem with this is that we have to take it home. And while we are traveling from the restaurant to our house, the balloon has to be in my van. With me.

Bobbing gaily around, it is ALWAYS blocking some portion of my rearview mirror.

If I tie it so that it is NOT in my way, then I have to listen to the "I want my ba-boon" whining from the backseat.

Or, Lucy will get ahold of the balloon and then I have to listen to the very annoying squeak of slightly slimy hands on latex. That's about 2 steps down from fingernails on a chalkboard for me. AND if Lucy is not exhibiting gentle touch with the balloon (which? NEVER happens), then I ALSO get to hear the "Wucy's bweakin' my ba-boon" whining.

It is nap time now, so the balloon talk has been briefly silenced.

But I just know that as soon as Emily gets up, the first thing she asks for will be her balloon. If I bring it into the house, she'll run around and play with it.

And after a few days hours minutes, the balloon will start to loose it's helium. When I get tired of tripping over it, or untangling it's string from Domino's feet or wrestling it away from two fighting kids, I will throw it away.

And then the questions will begin anew. "Where's my ba-boon? It bwoken? You fwew it away? Where is it?"

And that's if it even makes it into the house. I have at least one, if not two, balloon carcasses in my garage where they escaped on the trip between van and house.

Sometimes it survives the trip into the house and survives some toddler-type mauling, only to succumb to the force of nature that is my nephew. I think he bit the balloon (boys are so ... boy-ish. Really.) and it broke. Exploded in his face. More or less. And then Aunt Erin got to pick up all the wee pieces of latex balloon from all over the living room. Good times. (Note: no nephews were harmed in the making of this post. He's fine.)

And there was this other time (at band camp*) that Emily somehow managed to untie the knot at the bottom of the balloon, so it had a sudden deflation and flew all around my van. While I was on the Thruway. Good times. Nothing like a sudden VERY LOUD blast of flatulence-type noise to keep you nice and undistracted while driving.

So there you have it. That's my confession. I hate balloons. I am a total party pooper and I don't like it when people give my kids a balloon. I think, given the evidence above, you might understand why I am not a big fan of balloons.

Anyone else have a shocking confession they feel has been kept inside for too long? C'mon, out with it! We won't mock you. Much.

*Mike and I say this all the time. "Then, this one time, at band camp..." We think we are most witty.

GOLD!!

That? Right there? 60 $2 off one Silk soy milk coupons. A 2-pack of Silk costs $4.99 at BJs and lasts just about a week.

AND my BJs typically considers each part of a package to be worthy of one coupon, so theoretically, I can use TWO coupons and then pay $0.99 for a gallon of soy milk!!

I am so excited about these silly coupons.

Other things that are exciting me:

- A new(ish) texting service called ChaCha, where a user texts a question and registered guides answer the question. I registered to be a guide and took all the tests yesterday. I'm waiting to find out if I passed the final simulation test. Fingers crossed!!

- The possibility of finding 2, 2, 2 jobs in one! I answered a Craigslist ad for an appointment setter job. Usually appointment setter = cold calling = SCAM, but this one was for a local handyman company. The guy called back and said he wants to interview me for the phone job AND he thinks I might be a good fit to do their bookkeeping/payroll/etc. YAY! He was supposed to come over last night, but got a couple unexpected appointments. Hopefully we'll be able to connect today.

- A field trip to a local ice cream store today. Emily is going to be SO excited. The kids get to make their own ice cream cones with the soft serve machine.

- The discovery that Lucy seems to have a terminal need for two naps right now. Since Saturday, I have been making her morning nap non-negotiable (much like Emily's was) and our happy, agreeable, laughing baby has returned. So my plan to sell her to the gypsies has been put off for now.

Asking only workman's wages

I come looking for a job
But I get no offers,
just a come-on from the whores on 7th Avenue
- The Boxer, Simon & Garfunkel



I was going to put up a big ole whine-fest about how the kids are making me crazy and I can't find a decent work-from-home job that isn't a scam and how I was 20 or so seconds from taking one of the part-time office jobs and putting the kids in day care and the money woes and waaa!

Meh - I'm just not feeling it.

Mike and I are both tired. I had a hard night last night with insomnia and jimmy leg. When dinner time came around, we decided to get a pizza with some cash Mike's parent's gave us for our anniversary. Not our preferred way to spend that money, but neither of us were into making dinner.

After dinner, Mike hung out with the girls while I mowed the lawn. I came in an hour later to two freshly bathed girls, one of whom was already in bed.

The time I spent on the tractor was therapeutic. I turned the music up LOUD and mowed that damn lawn as fast as I could.

Here's to hoping that next week will be better.

90%

Emily is DEFINITELY feeling better today.

She bounced out of bed this morning and came into the living room and announced that she needed PopTarts and milk, please. OK, let's go get them right now, Mommy.

I made her come over and give me a hug and the white hot heat that had been radiating from her all night was gone. She was cool and had color back in her cheeks.

I got her a PopTart and milk and she began eating as though she'd only had cheerios the day before. Oh, wait, that's because that is all she ate yesterday.

We went out with my mom to run a couple errands and she started to run low on energy as we meandered through the store, insisting my mom carry her to and from the car, but otherwise, she seems to be doing OK.

Lucy woke up from her nap yesterday at 5:45 (!) and was running a 102 degree temp. She's still a little off, not eating everything in sight, but I know she's got a mouthful of teeth coming in and it's likely she's got at least some of the same thing Em had, seeing as they routinely share a sippy cup of water. I don't even bother trying to keep them separate. I just keep one cup of water out at all times and whoever wants it can drink from it.

Lucy's allergy blood work came back NEGATIVE for all allergies. I called the pediatrician this morning and said "Now what?". I explained, when I talked to the Fabulous Dr.Sara, that I've been giving Lucy soy milk to drink, but most of her food has had dairy in it, simply because I continually forgot NOT to give her dairy and she's been improving. The bloody diaper rash is gone. Her diapers are less bomb-like AND she's not poo-ing at 3 in the morning as much. All in all, I would call that an improvement.

Dr.Sara thinks it sounds like Lucy is lactose intolerant rather than milk allergic. So, we're going to continue as is; soy milk to drink and dairy in foods as long as it has been cooked. Maybe when she gets a bit older we'll try the Lactaid milk or pills, but for now, I think we'll stay on this course.

Um....

I think Emily is REALLY sick.

Well, not like hospital sick, but SICK. Not feeling well AT ALL.

She woke up from her nap around 20 after 2. She asked to go outside at 2:45. At 3:30, she came to the screen and said she needed to go back to bed, "cause I not feewin' well."

My heart clenched. Poor kid.

I wasn't sure if she meant go back to bed for real or if she just wanted to come inside, so I kept asking her for confirmation. "You want to go back to bed?" "Do you want me to pull your shade and turn on your music?" (Music = white noise machine)

She answered yes to all of my questions.

I just checked and she's asleep.

Wow. My poor baby.

County Fair = LAME

Our county fair started this week and I was all excited about going to it. I pestered Mike all weekend about how I wanted to go to the county fair. Let's go to the county fair some night this week. Hey! How about we have a quick dinner tonight and then go to the county fair?

Fine, he said. I think he agreed because I was driving him insane.

Whatever.

I am sure you are asking why I would want, nay beg, plead and pester to go to the county fair.

It's fairly simple. When I was a kid, I spent 6 weeks every summer with my MI parents. While I was there, they would take me to the Fowlerville Fair. The night that we went to the fair was dubbed "Junk Food Night" and we could eat whatever we wanted for dinner, without regard to nutritional content, fat, sugar, etc. Fried dough for dinner? Absolutely. Lemonade with lots of sugar? Let's get two! Ice cream from the dairy building? You betcha.

We'd gorge ourselves on crap food and then wander through all the buildings, looking at the 4H exhibits. I especially liked looking at the craft exhibits and picking out the few cross-stitch submissions. I'd dream of the day where I was old enough (and good enough) to submit my cross-stitch project to the fair for judging. (yeah, that day STILL hasn't come.)

Anyways, it was these memories that had me so excited about going to the county fair and beginning the same traditions with my girls.

We had a quick dinner* last night and then I dropped the dishes in the sink. They could wait. We were going to the FAIR! *We decided, due to budgetary constraints, that this year's JFN would be dessert only.

We drove out to the fairgrounds, paid our admission and headed inside. First barn up was the sheep. We wandered through, bumping into Mike's sister and brother-in-law and their kids on the way. There weren't many sheep on display, maybe 10 or so farms.

Hmm... maybe this isn't going to be as awesome as I was thinking.

We went through a few more barns, one of local businesses (snore) and one of kid's artwork. The local Sherriff's office had a booth set up to do the Safe Child ID cards. I got cards made up for both girls and then we wandered over to watch the pig races. That was WAY too loud, so we decided to keep wandering around.

We walked all the way down the midway. BAD idea. It totally felt like the carnies were leering at my kids. And me. And probably Mike. Bleh. I am sure that it was my imagination, but I was significantly creeped out.

When we got to the end of the midway, there was one lonely barn a ways off for the Grange displays.

By now, I was getting worried that this fair was BORING and LAME. And where were the cows? And the horses? And the rabbits? What's wrong with our county that they don't have this stuff at their fair?

We walked through the Grange barn (more snore) and then headed back towards the food to get some fried dough. When worry about the quality of your county fair overtakes you, large quantities of carbs, sugar and fat will help. Every time.

While we were eating our sugar-fat-carb bombs, Mike noticed more barns behind us that we hadn't gone to yet. Once we were done, we headed over there. And found the horses, the rabbits and the cows.

By this time, there were dark clouds gathering on the horizon and the girls were starting to lose it. But it was $1 ride night, so I invested $2 so that Emily could go on the green train she was bugging us about. (Green train = Alligator roller coaster) She loved it. She and my nephew Tommy went on another train together and we decided to call it a night.

Emily totally had fun at the fair, but I was disappointed. I am used to BIG FAIRS with LOTS OF STUFF to see and this was a wee little fair with lots of rednecks on parade (seriously - my county? FULL of rednecks.)

By the time we got home, Emily was complaining of a stomachache. She was up at 11:30 throwing up. She made it to the toilet in plenty of time. I am SO IMPRESSED. She's running a fever and is a complete barnacle. Every time I dared get more than 3 feet from her, she'd start to cry that she needed a hug. Also? It's 75 degrees outside and she's wearing a SWEATSHIRT. Because she was shivering while leaning against me, wrapped in a blanket.

We were supposed to have a Nature Outing in our backyard tomorrow for MOMS Club. Not happening, folks. I guess we'll have to do leaf rubbings some other time.

MMFF!

That title there?

That's the sound one makes when one covers one's mouth with both hands and tries NOT to say compound words whose first word starts with "M" and whose second word starts with "F".

That is also the sound I made this afternoon at about 2 pm.

Why was I trying to avoid compound words that start with "MF", you ask?

Because the power went out. RIGHT in the middle of the girls' naps. Both girls have white noise machines in their rooms and of course, they stopped working.

Even better, the power flashed off, then back on, then off again, then back on again and then off for good. All in a 3 minute span. So any hope of them sleeping through this brief trip back to the 1800s was lost.

Lucy started crying first. She's recently started being an incredibly light sleeper, so that if I want to peek at her sleeping before heading to bed, I must do so while making absolutely NO NOISE whatsoever. Unlike my darling husband, who last night burst into her room like a gunfighter with a bone to pick, and on her waking spent several minutes hiding at the foot of her bed. (This is the same man who, when we were checking on Emily Friday night, ran his index finger lightly down the length of an exposed foot. And then was SURPRISED when she woke up. HELLO! You just tickled the kid's foot! What the hell did you EXPECT was going to happen?!)

Of course, Lucy's wails woke Emily, who missed her nap yesterday and was so tired this afternoon, she didn't even touch the books I left for her to read during nap. Let me highlight those key phrases again: MISSED NAP yesterday, SO TIRED she went RIGHT TO SLEEP.

Thanks a million, large urban (and suburban) power company!

The only bright spot? My UPS kept the router and cable modem going for 30 or so minutes of the hour-ish we were without power and so I was able to continue to surf. Because without my internet I am one unhappy lady.

****

We saw the Fabulous Dr.Sara yesterday and she agreed that the pattern I was seeing was a definite asthma-y one. She gave me a prescription for Flovent and another one for a stylish mask-tube combo (ours is the yellow one. We also have the orange one. No, I'm not trying to collect all four).

I started Em on the new inhaler right away and am already seeing an improvement. Emily went to sleep last night without all the hacking coughs that sound as though the next thing you'll hear is a loud "splot!" when a lung lands on the floor. She woke up at around 11 and reprised the lung-hocking coughs for us, lest our evening be incomplete without the "is she or isn't she (going to barf)?" debate. I got up and administered some cough medicine and a Nalge sippy cup full of water and didn't hear (much) more from her. Until somewhere around 4 when she woke up and decided full volume crying was in order. Needless to say, Emily did NOT get a sticker this morning for not waking Mommy up in the middle of the night.

Border Guards, Books and Target

I went up to Niagara Falls Saturday for the BlogFriendsFest and it was everything I was hoping it would be. And more.

Of course, I had a few adventures while I was there and I thought I would share them with you.

To get there, I had to cross the border into Canada at the Rainbow Bridge, which is in the center of Niagara Falls, NY. I was driving along in the middle lane of a three-lane road. There was a white car that went into the left lane to turn left. As I was in the middle of the intersection, the white car decided it DIDN'T want to turn left and came over into my lane. Except, I wasn't done using it yet. And I had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting him. I was NOT HAPPY about that. Especially when Mr.White Car decided to give ME dirty looks in his mirror. Like it was MY FAULT that he didn't know where he was going.

I eventually found the Rainbow Bridge (the signs? NOT CLEAR) and got in line to go through Customs. The car in front of me took FOREVER, with the border guard coming out of the booth to open the doors and inspect the inside. It was about then that I thought I might be in for a longer experience than usual.

Once that car left, I started to pull forward, as the signs indicated I should do (the sign says "Wait for lane to clear, then proceed when clear."). The agent in the booth put out her hand and gestured that I should stop. So I did, briefly and then continued up to the booth. When I arrived at the booth, the agent told me I needed to go back until she called me.

Um, ok? I backed the car up as far as I could and waited. Of course, when I pulled forward, the car behind me did so as well, so I couldn't get all the way out of the lane. And then the agent made me wait extra long as punishment for being so cheeky as to pull forward when the prior car left.

I waited what seemed like forever (patient is NOT a word one would use to describe me). Apparently, the person behind me wasn't feeling very patient, either because he started honking. I did the universal, hands-in-the-air "I dunno" gesture, indicating that me waiting? NOT MY CHOICE. And also, given the choice between annoying the border guard who has UNLIMITED POWER and the burly guy in the SUV behind me? Gonna pick the burly guy in the SUV.

The border guard finally called me forward and then proceeded to give me the 3rd degree on what I was doing, going into her precious country at the undignified hour of 10 am. She finally agreed that I wasn't a terrorist and let me through.

I got to the hotel and met up immediately with some of the other ladies attending. We went up to the conference room and I discovered that there were FREE! BOOKS! WOO! So exciting. Metro Mama was so sweet and gave us our choice of books, as well as giving us a free copy of The Gargoyle. I can't wait to dig into my books.

We had a round table in the morning, where we talked about all kinds of interesting bloggy-things. We broke for some lunch and went to a restaurant with the world's slowest service. I know that we were a table of 10? (11?), but the place was nearly empty. I had to ASK for a refill on my water and the bills took approximately 85 years to arrive.

After lunch, we had the option of going on a wine tour or going shopping. I opted for the shopping since wine isn't really my thing (and I am the world's cheapest date. A few sips of wine and I'd be WAY drunk. Not good for driving home later.). The agenda repeatedly referenced "cross-border" shopping. I assumed that meant shopping in Canada. Um, no. It meant shopping in the US. Specifically, Target.

Did you know that Target is not in Canada? Yep. No Target. The poor things. So we went to Target. It was a hoot. One of the group had never been to Target. I called Mike on my way to Target and had a bit of a giggle about the fact that I'd driven 2 hours to Niagara Falls only to come back into the US to go to Target. But Target is awesome and I had fun talking with everyone. And giving advice on what everyone should buy.

The rest of the day passed very quickly and before I knew it, it was 11 pm and I was on my way home after dinner at The Hard Rock Cafe.

As I was crossing back into the US, the border guard asked what I had been doing in Niagara Falls. I told him I'd been there for a conference.

A conference for what? he asked.

Blogging. I responded.

And he LAUGHED. So I yelled at him. DON'T LAUGH! It's NOT FUNNY! He laughed some more. And then mockingly asked if I had anything in the car that had originated in Canada, other than a headfull of knowledge about blogs.

Nope.

He let me through and I went home. I got home at 1 am to discover that Mike had waited up for me. The sweetie. It was great to see him and chat about all that I had seen and learned.

Emily had been most upset to learn that I was going to be away all day Saturday and had specifically requested that I wake her up when I got home. So I did. And kissed my sweet, sweaty, sleepy girl. (Honestly, that girl pulls her blanket to her chin. It's 85 in the house and she's got a BLANKET on. She's a soaking wet when she gets up. Ugh.)

We're off to the doctor's office (again!) this morning. It finally dawned on me that Emily's coughing fits at night might NOT be cold-related, but more asthma related. I'm seeing a definite pattern to the episodes and want the Fabulous Dr.Sara to take a listen.

Awesome/NOT Awesome

I've had this post idea rattling around in my head for a couple of days and so I am going to subject you to it. I might actually have to come back and edit it later as I am sure to forget something I wanted to put in here.

Awesome:
My mom took the kids yesterday after Lucy's 1-year check-up and gave me the afternoon off. I made a hand bag.


NOT Awesome:
My photography skills. The pictures are blurry. And don't show the almost too-sweet cuteness that is that bag, in my opinion. I am going to do about a million things different next time. And there will be a next time. Because I am sort of toying with opening an Etsy shop to sell these and some other stuff. Interested? Let me know! (Also, how much would you pay for a handmade bag like this?)

Awesome:
It is 7:20 am and the kids are still asleep.

NOT Awesome:
If I had known they were going to sleep in, I wouldn't have gotten up at 6:45. Emily has another summer cold/cough/croup thing going on and she was up at LEAST 4 (5? 12? 100?) times last night. At one point, Lucy was crying, so I closed our bedroom door (the first line of defense against down-the-hall hollering (the second line is turning on the fan in our bathroom)). Of course, Em woke up while the door was closed and freaked out because the door was closed. Augh.

Awesome:
I have a refill on the OraPred I got for Emily's cough the last time.

NOT Awesome:
I have no idea if I should fill it to have it on hand for this go-round and I am most likely to want it at 10 pm, when all the pharmacies are closed.

Awesome:
My new bathroom fan.

NOT Awesome:
The wee tiny little bugs that are attracted to the night light we have been leaving on in there for Emily's midnight potty trips. I took my shower this morning with the corpses of at least 4 bugs. Eeeeew!

Awesome:
Lucy's check up went really well. She's 30.5 inches, 23 pounds 2 ounces and everyone in the office thinks she's darling. (We do, too.) Last time, the nurses fought over who had to give her the shots, because no one wanted to be the one jabbing my girl.

NOT Awesome:
It is the fabulous Dr.Sara's opinion that the diaper rash Lucy's had for the last month to 6 weeks is caused by ... DAIRY. Her poo is strangely colored (like chocolate chip cookie dough without the chips. I know you wanted that image in your head), the diaper rash is so bad she's BLEEDING ('course that's not helped by her preference to poo at the ever-so-convenient hour of 3 AM), and she had a mild (like a mosquito bite) reaction to dairy on the scratch test we had done last week at the allergist. The allergist kind of poo-poo'd my concerns, but not Dr.Sara. I bought Luce some soy milk yesterday and she's loving it. And Courtney was willing to buy from me the 2 gallons of whole milk I had just bought.

Even LESS Awesome:
Lucy got 2 shots yesterday, one in each thigh. And then we trooped down the hall and she had 4 vials of blood taken. When we went to the allergist, she gave us paperwork to have a RAST done in light of the reaction to the milk (and I think my description of the carnage in Lucy's diaper). I knew that the check-up would bring MORE paperwork for a lead check and iron screening, so I opted to wait to get it all done at once. They, of course, couldn't get blood on the first stick, so she got stuck in both arms and was terrified. Yet another one of those traumatic moments I am so glad she won't remember.

Awesome:
I think I am going to Niagara Falls Saturday.

Somewhat LESS Awesome:
I have no idea how that's all going to work. We'll figure it out, I guess.

Awesome:
I found a frame for Lucy's birth record.

NOT Awesome:
It's 16x20 and I have to find a mat that will match and not cost a million dollars.

Awesome:
We love this album. All of the songs are funny, catchy and NOT performed by The Wiggles. (That right there is a HUGE bonus.) And I have loved BNL as a band since I was 14.

NOT Awesome:
This. I am so incredibly disappointed in him. I know that he's human and he's presumed innocent until proven guilty and all that, but wow. Way to promote that kiddie album, Steve. The article says he has 3 sons. Can you imagine that conversation? How in the world would you sit your kids down and tell them that Daddy got in trouble for drugs? Makes me even more glad that I am so straight I wouldn't know how to even go about getting drugs. Let alone have the desire to take them.

Birthday bash

A year ago today, I was coming home from the hospital with Lucy.

3 days earlier, this is what she looked like:
She was MAD that someone had somewhat uncerimoniously removed her from the nice warm place she'd been hanging out in. And then, THEN someone stuck her in the leg with a needle. We didn't hear the end of THAT for quite a while. She cried for easily the first 10 minutes of her life.
This is in our hospital room the day we came home. Aunt Holly made that hat for her, but it was a leedle big. I was remembering my stay in the hospital with Lucy this weekend. I remembered waking up in the middle of the night, hearing someone's baby crying and sleepily wondering whose kid was crying so loud. The crying would get louder and louder as the baby was brought down the hall. And then, there would be a knock on my door and a nurse would bring Lucy in to me to nurse. The answer to the question of whose kid was crying so loud? Yeah, mine.
Emily was very excited about her new baby sister, but not as excited about getting her picture taken with said new baby sister. The excitement level about the sister has increased as the kids have gotten older. Thank goodness.
Ah yes, Rudolph the Snot Faced Baby. Strangely, I don't miss that. She sure was cute, though. And she'll learn the "don't kiss your mummy when your nose is runny, you may think it's funny, but it's snot" rule soon enough.
Lucy discovered that food? IT IS DELICIOUS! She frequently out-eats her big sister. And sometimes? Sometimes, she eats more than me. She will eat ANYTHING. Now, including apples! Woo! (For some reason, she wouldn't eat apples or applesauce. At ALL. I've continued offering them to her and slowly she's starting to eat apples. Yay.)
The only thing Lucy likes more than eating is bath time. She loves to splash around in the water with her sister. The washing part? She could do without. But we prefer that our kids NOT smell like a foot, so we insist that the washing part go with the splashing and playing.
She is working on learning how to steer her walker so that she doesn't get stuck so much. And she loves to chase Emily around the house. Emily will push her baby stroller and Lucy pushes her walker and Mike helps with the steering. Many giggles ensue.
Can you believe she went from a gooey screaming baby to this? In one year? I can't.

I also can't wait to see what the next year(s) bring. Happy birthday, my sweet Lucy girl.

PS: Today is also my 2nd blogiversary. And my 400th post.

I couldn't resist

Ring, ring

Mike: Hello? (said like Emily says it, "hewwo")
Me: Hi. Your daughter has something she wants to say to you. Here, Em.
Emily: Hi. You a girly boy, Daddy. Domino is a girly boy.
Mike: ...
Emily: You're a girly boy.
Mike: hahahahaha!*

***
Ring, ring (maybe 3 minutes later)

Mike: Hello again.
Me: Your daughter has something else to tell you.
Emily: Daddy, I had poopy in the potty.
Me: What was in the poopy?
Emily: Corn. There was corn in my poopy, Daddy.
Mike: Ha. (Because poop? It is ALWAYS funny to my husband. Always.)*

* some artistic license was taken with Mike's responses, since I didn't actually hear them, but he told me he laughed. He actually said being called a girly boy by his daughter cracked him up.

Clearly, I've recently discovered the joys of teaching Emily to say something and then sending her to say that which she has recently learned to Mike. I am particularly proud of the corn poop thing. Because I frequently get one word emails from Mike after we've had corn for dinner. The word in the email? Corn. Always good to know that what goes in also comes out.

Vertical Pedal on the Right

Today I was lucky enough to get stuck behind not one, not two but THREE drivers who were apparently incapable of locating AND USING their accelerator.

And a semi going up a winding, hilly road. But I'm not holding that one against him. Much.

I will admit that I am a speedy and impatient driver. I drive like I do everything else: FAST.

And I get very frustrated with people who don't do AT LEAST the speed limit. C'mon! It's a 55 mph road! Let's not put along at 47!

Today was unusual in that I actually passed two of the Sunday-except-it's-actually-Thursday-drivers. And got dirty looks, too.

***

I am still having a hard time believing that I have a one-year-old. Seriously, where did my baby go?

I <3 my kid, but

she (Emily) is driving me a little nuts right now.

So, for those of you who aren't interested in hearing (reading) me whine about my nearly 3-year-old and how she didn't nap today, feel free to read only the italicized captions to the pictures. I'm going to try to do a dual story thing here, wherein I piss and moan about my nap-less afternoon AND tell you about our recent trip to Seabreeze. We went there last year and Em probably enjoyed it even MORE this time and that's saying a lot. (Also? I just looked through those pictures and HOLY CHANGES! Kiddo has GROWN UP! Wow.)

Yet again, Emily MUST NOT touch the ride. Or look like she's having fun.

So this morning the girls and I went to Courtney's house to play and hold down her couch for a couple of hours. Emily was a model good-girl. She played nicely, she ate a good lunch, she flipped out when it was time to go. All signs were pointing to a nice, quiet afternoon in the Looney Bin.

Wait. Is that a smile?! It can't be. I must be mistaken.

Except when I put her to bed, the talking never seemed to slow down. Then she got up to go potty. I was (mostly) OK with that, because she didn't go before she went to bed. She didn't go potty right away (ALWAYS a bad sign), so I set the timer and when it went off, I put her back to bed.

The kid is SO BORED she's picking her nails.

And still, the talking didn't stop. She got up for another potty break. Still no potty. She announced that she was awake. I told her she was going back to bed. She cried. I threatened to take her books away. She stopped. I went back to the living room.

At least here she's pretending to steer the car. But no smiling.

She kept talking and whining that she wanted a hug, wanted to get up, etc. She was starting to wear down my will to live. At 2:45, she got up to go potty for a third time. And that time I agreed to let her play quietly in her room.

She begged to go on the horses. And we were rewarded with a smile. Yay!

So that's where she is now. Of course, she started playing with her closet doors, and in doing so, woke her sister at 3:30. That was JUST what I needed.

When she got off the carousel, we took her on the teacups (not pictured because I was spinning too fast and trying not to puke). As we got off the teacups, she asked to go on The Spring. I thought she was going to be too scared, so I insisted she watch it first. Nope. She wasn't afraid a bit.

Lucy seems to be quieting down again and Emily is in her room whining. I'm trying to ignore it because I told her if she didn't stay quiet, I'd put her back to bed. That's not a battle I'm really willing to fight right now.

In fact, Mike said she giggled the WHOLE TIME.

Huh. I guess she WAS bored.

So, I think that is about it. My kid is growing up and testing the boundaries I have set for her and it is annoying me. That's what kids do, so I guess I need to get over it.

Thus, our Seabreeze strategy was born: find the most exciting ride Emily was tall enough to ride and put her little buns on it.

Since I have a few more pictures left, I'll answer Lou's question from my previous post. He asked how the bathroom project is going and the short answer is: Well. Mike got the new fan installed and we've been ventilating nicely all weekend. Mike has 2 (? I think) coats of plaster on the patch job and hopefully I'll be able to prime and paint later this week.

We went to the waterpark part of Seabreeze, too and then it was back to the carousel. This example of "Monkey See, Monkey Do" cracks me up.

I'm more than a little nervous about painting the ceiling for a billion reasons, not the least of which is that I'm pretty sure I don't have the paint that was most recently used on the ceiling.

Mike said the Tilt-A-Whirl was starting to make him feel queasy by the end but Em seemed to have the time of her life.

The other thing that is stressing me out (I TOLD you this was going to be a whiny post) is Lucy's birthday this weekend. I'm not sure if my MI grandparents are coming out (we should find out tonight) and I have to clean my house, since it is a total pit. The temperatures are in the upper 80s and I have NO motivation to clean.

This was 10 minutes into the car ride home. Poor girl was DONE. And drooling. Hee. That right there was worth the tickets.

OK. I think I am done whining. For now.

Summer in a bowl

Emily and I went to pick strawberries this week and on our way home I stopped at the grocery store to get the makings for this salad.

It is the epitome of summertime to me.

Strawberry Romaine Salad

8 cups torn Romaine
1 pint fresh strawberries, sliced
1 small red onion, thinly sliced and separated into rings

Poppy seed dressing

½ cup mayonnaise
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup milk
2 Tbsp poppy seeds
2 Tbsp white wine vinegar

In a large bowl, toss the romaine, strawberries and onion. In a small bowl, whisk the dressing ingredients until blended. Serve with the salad.

This time, instead of tossing the romaine (I used spinach, either is good), strawberries and onion together, I combined them when I made up the servings of salad. That way, the strawberries didn't ooze their juice all over the spinach and onion and make everything all soggy. Same thing with the dressing, I poured it on just before serving so that the produce stayed crisp and yummy. I know that milk and mayonnaise don't exactly sound like they go together, but this is really good. Trust me.

Mike is off work for the rest of the week (whee! Thanks for turning 232, America!) and is working on installing a new bathroom fan. This has turned out to be one of those domino-effect projects. When we got the bathroom painted, we decided to get a new bathroom fan because I was very concerned that the moisture issues we were experiencing were due to inadequate ventilation. It turns out that the old fan's set up is 90 degrees off from all the fans on the market today. The ducts that go into and out of the fan are on the long sides of the old fan and on the short sides of the new ones. Our old fan was neatly sandwiched between two joists, so we couldn't just move the ducts. When we turned the new fan so that the ducts line up, there was a large gap in the ceiling that would have to be patched. The ceiling? It was just painted. Mike and I thought we had come up with a decent workaround involving moulding to cover the space that would allow us to avoid patching the ceiling. Unfortunately, that didn't work.

Back to square one, where square one = Home Depot. Mike was able to exchange the old new fan for a new new fan that is circular. Yay!

Through this whole fan decision process, I have expressed the desire to relocate the fan elsewhere in the bathroom (instead of mostly over the sink, where there isn't much steam generation happening, I think it would be nifty to have the fan over the shower - much more steam and water and stuff happening there, doncha think?). When we were in "make it work" mode, that was out of the question. Now that we have to patch the ceiling no matter what, Mike was nice enough to tell me that it wouldn't be all that much more work* to move it to whatever location my heart desired.

So. We're moving the fan. It will be more or less centered over the shower. I am pleased, except that 1) Mike has been working on this since 9 am and it is now 3:11 pm and while I am sure progress is being made, it's slow going. 2) Mike doesn't feel very well and it sucks that his hag of a wife is making him slave away in an attic when I'm sure he'd rather be doing, well, pretty much anything else.

We are planning to take the girls to see fireworks tonight. Emily is thrilled. Lucy will (and could) care less. Lucy's going to be peeved because fireworks need to happen when it is dark. When it is dark is when Lucy feels that she should be in bed, snuggling with her Oscar**, sound asleep. Not going to happen tonight. She is free to try to sleep in her stroller. Otherwise, she will go to bed when we get home. I know, I'm a mean mommy AND a hag wife. I embrace it.

* I am pretty sure the words "it wouldn't be all that much more work" release some Murphy's Law force in the universe so that everything that could go wrong in a project DOES and the "not much more work" required to do X actually becomes A LOT more work. Hopefully that won't be the case here.

** Lucy has a lovey that is one of those stuffed animal heads on a blanket (which sounds more than a little creepy). Hers is a giraffe and it is quite cute. Emily started calling it "Wucy's Ossa" (Lucy's Oscar) and the name stuck. I think the reasoning is that Emily's lovey is called Oscar (because he's Oscar the Grouch) so Lucy's lovey must therefore also be Oscar.

DONE!

I finished Lucy's birth record last night. Or maybe it was the night before. I forget.

I dragged out the ironing board this morning and pressed it so that it is all nice and pretty now. And the hoop marks show ever-so-clearly. Yeah. Gonna have to figure out how to get rid of those. Ugh.

I am sure I have said this at least 80 billion times (and I know that pretty much every mother feels like this), but I cannot believe that Lucy will be 1 in 9 days. 9 days! She will be 1 THIS MONTH.

Where did the time go? Where did this nearly walking (seriously, she took 2 steps on her own to Mike last night. I'm on the fence as to whether that constitutes walking or not. I'm pretty sure that's what Em did when we called it walking, but I can't remember (I do recall her taking a couple of steps and SLAMMING her head into the couch with a significant degree of force and me panicking, hoping that she hadn't just killed herself, such was the BANG with which she hit the couch)), definitely trying to say stuff (she was looking at my mother-in-law's dog yesterday and saying "eye dah", which I translated into "Hi dog" if only because she kept saying it), hug and kiss giving PERSON come from? Who took my sweet little baby away? (Not that she's not still sweet, but she's not so much with the baby any more.)

I saw Janna for the first time since Court et al went to PA and dude - she's ready for school. Her face has changed a LOT. I'm sure I sounded like an idiot this afternoon at Courtney's house because I kept babbling about how Janna doesn't look like a baby anymore.

Darn these kids and their growing up.

Heart : Broken

When Emily's Little Gym semester ended a couple of weeks ago, she was given a flag and a medal (they're concentrating a lot on the Summer Olympics, so the kids marched to the Olympic anthem and ... stuff.). That flag and medal are among her most prized possessions.

Of course, given that Emily likes them, Lucy LOVES them.

I don't think the flag was 3 days old and Lucy ripped the flag out of the staple that was holding it on the stick.

Emily cried. I threw it away, assuming that it was unrepairable.

Grandpa, being the great guy he is, fixed it for Emily when she fished it out of the garbage and told the sorry tale of how "Wucy bwoke my fwag."

A couple of days after that repair, Emily broke the flag, again loosening the flag from the staple. Grandpa again came to the rescue and re-stapled the flag to the stick, returning the flag to us just before they left for vacation this past Thursday.

Last night, I was in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner (also known as Mommy's Alone Time) when I heard Emily crying. She came to the kitchen door and I asked her what was wrong.

"Wucy bwoke my flag", she sobbed.

I went over and hugged her and she proceeded to cry into my shoulder like I have never heard her cry. She was truly devastated. After a few minutes of hugs, (during which I was frantically wracking my brain for ways to tell her it was a 25 cent (if that) flag without trampling all over her little feelings) I explained that Lucy didn't mean to break her flag and if she (Lucy) understood how upset Emily was by the breaking of said flag, she would never have done it. Unfortunately, that's one of the downsides of being a big sister, that sometimes your little sister busts your stuff (or, in my case, rats you out for having a boy-girl overnight party while your parents and little sister are away at The Cabin. Hey, Holls, I'm still REALLY sorry about that. Glad you're not too pissed off. Or, maybe that's why you bought Emily a drum for her first birthday....)

This time, the flag is well and truly broken. Lucy snapped the stick in half, right where the flag attaches to the stick. There's no way that Grandpa can fix this one, even if he is a Handyman Club of America Lifetime Member (he even has the jacket to prove it). It has been given a solemn burial in the garbage (the kitchen garbage this time, so Emily can't go in and retrieve it).

When I was telling Mike about this incident last night, he reported that after I went back to my dishes, Emily came out to him and told him that "Wucy bwoke my heart."*

Awww. Poor kiddo. She was really busted up about that goofy flag. (All was mended when we took her out for ice cream.)

* We often say that about Lucy. If you are holding her and put her down so you can have full use of both hands (radical concept, that), Lucy will burst into passionate tears, complete with pouty bottom lip and sobs. Recently, she has even added a dramatic face-down flop to this display so that you know she really means it. You have ripped her tender heart from her chest, you cruel person, you.