Wednesday, December 27, 2006

The Holiday is OVER (can I get an amen?)

All is right with the world. The wrapping paper is in the trash. All the gifts are away. The pile of boxes in the living room has been broken down and sent to the recycling. Some gifts have even been returned already. I am back at work. Everything is better. Oh and no one worked today so traffic was fab. Instead of coming up to stay with the in-laws, I stayed home last night and drove into work this morning. 90 miles, 90 minutes. Excellent (please don't tell the nice officers as I was never in a zone with a speed limit over 55).
I even had a great day at work today and even though I am in training, I saved my company thousands of dollars in rework costs. So, woo hoo to me.
Oh, and I bought a rotisserie chicken at Costco for dinner, so I am feeling groovy.

Monday, December 25, 2006

Well, it's 11:20 now

I spent the last 20 minutes paying my bills online and balancing my checkbook. At least my depression is productive.
I'm just so sad right now. I think it's because my life is spiraling out of control and I am not good at that. I am very orderly and controlled and I make plans and contingency plans and I even think about tertiarty contingency plans in case both the plan and back up plan should fail.

I guess I am out of control since I have no plan right now. Our house hasn't sold and I have to start working full-time in 2 weeks, and OH MY GOD, how am I going to do that? I'm sure whatever I do, I'll be witty and appear in control and I'll laugh nervously whenever someone asks me how hard it is. My pain will be our little secret, OK?

I need to stop living with my sister-in-law. I got some leads on apartments, but they are so expensive, but I might just need to bite the proverbial bullet and get one. I could, perhaps get a roommate from work or maybe stay with friends for a while so as not to wear out my welcome too badly. What to do, what to do (that's more rhetorical than anything)? Actually, what I need to do is sell my house. Ugh. Oh, and I need to stop crying and go to bed because Chuckles ain't going to get his own cup of milk at 5 am. But how to fall asleep? I tried that already. I was there, on the verge of crying, but trying not to cry so as not to wake the mister.

Oh, and did I mention that I have been scheduled into driving school on Thurs., Jan. 25th?

Oh, and if you volunteer to host the holiday and when people ask if they can help, you say, "no, i have it under control", then you are not permitted to feel bad when no one helps you.

Oh, one more thing: slippers are almost always a good gift (just not from a husband to a wife or anything).

Did I mention that I hate the waste of the holiday? NExt year, no gifts for anyone and we adopt families who are actually in need. Must start working on them now. My mother will never ever ever go for it. Perhaps contributions to the college fund would go over better. Or, we can volunteer at the food pantry and see what it's like for people who do not have 18 kinds of Christmas cookies on the table and are lucky to have a turkey or a ham.

OH, and for the love of god, why do you think it's wrong that I am exposing my son to Spanish language? Yes, I know we live in the US and our main language is English and believe me, he is learning English, but really, lots of countries speak Spanish and someday he might want to travel to one of those countries or manage people in a factory whose native language is Spanish and if it gives him some kind of edge, well, then so much the better.

Oh, and lastly, I swear to you, I am not making up his milk protein allergy. Really. Those diapers don't lie, so could you please stop giving him cheese-flavored gold fish crackers? He's not actually hungry, he just saw everyone snacking and thought it looked like fun. And no, he does not need juice or water - his soy milk is just fine. And yes, he does need to nap - even on Christmas. Thanks, ma.

It's 11 o'clock on Christmas night, do you know where your blogger is?

She's in the family room crying whilst her husband and son sleep upstairs. Gosh, I hate holidays and am so glad Christmas is finally fricking over. Now, if I can just hold it together through New Year I'll be set, but let's just say the hysterical nature of this evening's crying is not making me think I'll be holding anything together. And did you know there is not not actually anything wrong with me other than usual stuff? What the hell is wrong with me and the crying and the hysterical? And the tears and teh jaw that is quivering. What is up with this? Is this what seasonal disorder is about becaue we're passed the solstice, so I should start perking up any day now. And would you buy my house so I can get out of limbo purgatory? And if I wipe my snot on my sleeve will it come out in the wash without a pre-treatment for stains?

For the record I have nothing good to say about anyone or anything right now and that I hate everyone and everything but I think it's all in my own mind because I just expect too much of others. In fact, I probably hate everyone because I expect the same of others as I expect of myself. I have very high expectations for myself in case that wasn't already abundantly clear. I must be the best mother, wife, homemaker, baker, present buyer, etc. If you aren't going to try, just get a gift card to a place you know I frequent. Is that so hard? I go to Target 8 times per week, so that's a good choice. Amazon is also nice. Borders is fine. Meijer is good. Mom, if you are reading this, a small store near the Mojave desert with no return policy is not a good option of where to purchase all of my gifts.

Oh, and my husband got me a very nice present that made me cry (and I apologized profusely because the gift really was quite nice, I'm just a raging lunatic).

Friday, December 22, 2006

Presents galore

The presents have been arriving by the UPS-truck load from out-of-town relatives. Chuckles has received quite the bounty. He got a very cute Elmo tool pouch that he has been wearing basically non-stop since last night. I got it off of him for bath and bed, though. Very resourceful mommy.

Some people have adhered to my philosphy of toys and gifts. Some have not. I already have a few things that need to go back. Also, for all of you out there who do not have chicldren living in your homes but who buy for's a tip: pay attention to the ages on the package; they are pretty accurate. Chuckles may be a boy genius, but he still hits me over the head with the train trck pieces, so if the toy is for 3+, don't give it to an 18-month old unless you want his parents to hate you or put the toy away for a while.

Goat Milk

I got some goat milk to confirm to myself that it is, in fact, the casein in milk that causes Chuckles such discomfort. Our pediatrician did not want to do allergy testing (arsehole), so I am doing my own testing here at home on my son.
I got the goat milk at the local supermercado. Meijer was all out of goat milk (and goat milk nog and soy nog, for that matter....who knew?). Anyway, got the goat milk and it comes in a paper carton like orange juice with an "easy pour spout" except it's not easy. On the OJ, you peel back a tab and pour. On this milk, you needed to push the spout down (all the way down for some distance) so that it would seat before you pout it. So let's just say I got some on the counter and on me. Now I smell like goat. Oh, and it's whole milk and it's not homogenized so there was a big ole cream layer at the top. Cool.

The oven is preheating

for sugar cookies and snowballs (aka butterballs or Mexican Wedding Cakes).

I made the snowballs tiny this year since mini everything is "in". They are slightly larger than a pea. Totally bite-sized. And a pain in the arse to roll into the ball, but that's OK because I like you enough to do that for you.

Also, is oleo the same as margarine or as crisco? Let me know, k?

And what do you like?

I prefer toothpaste to tooth gel.

I like waxed, unflavored dental floss.

Thursday, December 21, 2006


What should you do when someone specifically requests a special dish or cookie over Christmas? I usually oblige reasoning that they like what I make and it will make both them and me happy to do it. But, this year, I'm having trouble getting things done since I am not home much. So, right now, I am doing laundry, running the dishwasher, blogging, making a list of salad fixings and baking snowball cookies while trying to ignore Chuckles whining in his crib (one hour is not a long enough nap, young man). Oven is pre-heated...gotta run.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006


So, I'm not religious. At all. I am a good person who knows right from wrong and will instill that in my son. I do not believe in god. It's OK. I feel fine about it. I believe that when you die, you are gone. You only live on in the memory of your family and friends. I don't believe in souls or in an afterlife. I'm OK with that. You don't need to pray for my salvation or anything.

I'd say I am socially Christian as I eat dinner on Christmas and Easter and I put up lights and a tree too. But, I don't go to church and I don't believe. I've never been baptized and I don't pray. At my house, when I host holidays, we don't pray. We toast to our health, wealth, and family. It's a nice tradition that makes others forget that you haven't prayed.

I am a scientist by nature and by trade, and I just don't believe in magic or god or higher powers or any of that. But, I'm an American, and I respect other people's right to practice their religions however they see fit (within reason, of ritual beatings of women or anything allowed). I respect other people's religions. I don't protest Christmas trees or nativity scenes or menorahs or fasting or sabbath or Diwali or anything. Purim is fine by me. Women who choose to wear a head covering are A-OK as are men who wear yarmulkes. I even attended a baptism (in an originally stunning eggplant colored dress), though I did not draw a cross on the child's head (I politely declined) nor did I respond "and also with you". I sat quietly while others prayed and I stood there quietly when that seemed appropriate (stand up, sit down, fight-fight-fight).

My husband is slightly more religious than I am. He was christened Catholic and confirmed Lutheran. We married in a Lutheran church (mostly because the hall I wanted was booked up on short notice) on a Sunday five years ago. He has not attended church during the entire 8 years I have known him. I don't think he believes in god, but I could be wrong. Our child is 19-months old, and now, all of a sudden, he wants to baptize my baby. I don't get it. Why now? I'm guessing he had a good time at the baptism. I think his dad is also pressuring him.

So, I'm at a total loss on this. Part of me says I don't believe in it anyway, so go ahead because it won't change anything. The other part of me says wait long enough and let the kid decide if he'd like to do that since I don't think you can un-do it if you don't want it. Another part of me wants to know why he doesn't respect my opinion. Since we don't go to church, isn't this sort of hypocritical of him?

I told him he could go ahead and baptize but he had to make all the arrangements and phone calls and whatnot himself since I did not want to be involved (which he tells people means I won't let him baptize Chuckles, but really how could I stop him for doing that?). I just don't want to be involved. I told him I was willing to organize the luncheon for afterward and if he waited we could combine it with a housewarming party. I think he just wants to blame me to his father so he can get out of the guilt/blame. So, am I being unreasonable? I'd like some honest feedback here. I believe my exact words were something like: "I don't care if you baptize him. Do whatever you want. I just don't want to be involved with it. You can even call my dad for help (my father is a church deacon, who ironically I don't think believes in god either, but his wife volunteered him when he wasn't at church)."
So, is this fair? I will help with lunch but not locating a church or sending them paperwork on our marriage license, or vowing to reject satan myself. I think I am being fair, but sometimes people disagree with me (especially people who think religion is a really big deal).

I could have told you that

According to a new study, 95% of Americans (even those who were born a long time old people) had sex outside of marriage. I'll quote from the article here so you don't actually have to read it...
  • 99 percent of the respondents had had sex by age 44, and 95 percent had done so before marriage.
  • Even among a subgroup of those who abstained from sex until at least age 20, four-fifths had had premarital sex by age 44, the study found.
  • Finer said the likelihood of Americans having sex before marriage has remained stable since the 1950s, though people now wait longer to get married and thus are sexually active as singles for extensive periods.
  • Among women born between 1950 and 1978, at least 91 percent had had premarital sex by age 30, he said, while among those born in the 1940s, 88 percent had done so by age 44.
So, the 40-year old virgin was among the 1% of people who didn't have sex by adulthood. Very interesting. 95% of us have sex before marriage. In fact, I only know one person directly (although I heard of another one) who claims not to have had sex prior to marriage. I know a couple who waited until they were engaged. But that's it. Any of you readers know an adult who hasn't had sex or one who waited until marriage?

Speaking of which, apparently sex in high school was very common where I lived. More than half (probably 75% or so) of people had sex before leaving HS. But, then I got to college and there were virgins everywhere (disclaimer: my college had a very large number of academic type people (aka nerds) so maybe they just didn't have the chance in HS). Where the hell did they come from (not my high school, that's for sure)? I think most of them had sex before we graduated (proabbly with other nerds), but then I got out into the real world and met more virgins (including the one who professed to be a virgin at her wedding). How the hell did they get out of college without having sex?

Hello Open Enrollment

I have to choose health plans. Should I choose

A. A low-priced catastrophic plan that doesn't cover much but is very inexpensive (not good with a toddler, scratch this).

B. A moderately priced plan with no deductible and co-pays for everything but you must stay in network and infertility is not covered.

C. The highest priced plan, with a deductible, which covers everything but only at 80% (and that's after the deductible) and you still have to stay in-network.

I'm leaning toward B right now since I am not sure I want another baby and probably not in 2007, so I can alwys switch next year. About the network though. I don't know any doctors here, so I guess I could just pick off of the network, but what if I get a disease and want to see a specialist?

My work Christmas party...

was a lot of fun. I did not over-indulge in anything (food or drink-wise), but still was a lot of fun. The food and drink was phenomenal. I will now run-down what was for dinner...

Open bar with good liquor (funny story....I went to order Mr. L-S a 7&7 and the bartender apologized because she didn't have Seagram's 7...she only had Crown Royale for me, darn). I had a glass of fabulous carbernet to hold whilst I mingled with the muckity mucks.

There was an appetizer bar with cheese, crackers, and veggies. Then a mixed greens salad and rolls & far standard fare.

Then there was a casserole buffet with green bean almondine, turkey dressing, and some kind of broccolli.
Then there was a mashed potato bar with garlic mashed, regular mashed, and sweet potato mashed. They had stuff to put on the potatoes, like gravy, sour cream, chives, and shredded bacon, butter with cinnamon and brown sugar, etc.

Then there was a carved meat bar. They had prime rib with various grated and prepared horseradishes, mustards and au jus. There was also a woman carving turkeys.

Then there was a seafood bar with a mountain of shrimp and various cocktails sauces, a pasta with shrimp, scallops, lobster, and mussels. Then there was crabcakes with a sauce of some tasty sort and a lobster/seafood chowder/bisque soup thing that was very tasty.

And then, there was a coffee bar. They had regular, decaf, hot cocoa, and something else. There were marshamllows and whipped cream to dress them up. And if that wasn't enough, there was an assortment of coffee-related boozes (whiskey, kahlua, bailey's, kamora, etc) to spice things up.

Then, there was the dessert bar. It had mini-pastries, an assortment of Christmas cookies, fruit tarts, and choclate pies and cakes, and lastly, there was a chocolate fountain. Oh yes. There was molten chocolate and an assortment of things to dip (bananas, strawberries, rice crispy treats, pretzels, oreos, wafer cookies, brownies, shortbread, etc). I think many a person would be in heaven to choclate coat their dinner and eat it.

The bar continued to be open throught the entire thing.

And about an hour later, they brought out a sandwich buffet in case you were still hungry. Oh man. My new work sure does know how to throw a party. There was a band playing (not the best...a DJ would have been better, if a little less classy).

Mr. L-S was treated to a rare night in a hotel in a resort city with his wife who seduced him by wearing one of the many pieces of lingerie she owns but ignores (oh, and with the open bar I may have gotten him a bit drunk too). Funny quote: Sunday morning after the party (but before the Christening), the mister asked me why I always take him on vacation during the off-season. To avoid the crowds, silly.

How the Christening went (including what I wore)

The Christening was lovely. My nephew did a great job and didn't cry at all. However, during the annointing with oil, Chuckles threw up on me (and my brand-new silk dress). I caught most of the vomit in his bue bankie (special lovey blanket) and ran from the church. We got cleaned up and back inside before the end of the ceremony. All was well.

So, about my was a purple/eggplant color with oval of black and cream and another shade of purple. It was a sheer silk over a purple silk slip. It was vomited upon, had tomatoes smeared into it and it ripped on the shoulder. It was $15 from Marshall's, so all-in-all, I guess it's OK that it was disposable. I am going to try to return it because it ripped for no apparent reason other than the seam pulled it. Do you think they'll take it back? Is it even worth trying?

Friday, December 15, 2006

Need fashion help now

And I'm not sure I know how to rotate pictures, so if I can't figure it out, just turn your head sideways and look, k?
The occasion is an afternoon christening at a Catholic church in a relatively affluent area on Sunday. The luncheon afterward is being held at someone's house. My husband is the godfather (if that matters at all).

I can combine the pieces in any order. Here are the clothing pieces

TOPS: grey twinset, black twinset

Bottoms: A-line black skirt, A-line stretch gray skirt (also, a long black skirt with a slit to the knee...if I make the long skirt substitution I will alter hosiery and shoes appropriately)

Legs: Black tights and black flats....if long skirt, black sheer hose and black heels

Luck of the Irish - not

I was unableto connect with Ticketmaster to get those CHicago Bears play off tickets for Mr. L-S for Christmas. Shame really.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

If you come here for parenting advice

there are better places you could go, but here are my biggies:

Santa is not real and lying to your children might make them trust you less later on. I don't actually remember ever believing in Santa, but it was a game we could play and I imagine we'll call it a game as well. The actual Christian holiday is about Jesus, not Santa, so uhm, huh right.

Have I mentioned that I hate the commercialization of everything (goes back to me hating everything)? So, Christmas and gifts and me...well, it makes me cry (see also, Vicki's gift). I like giving gifts to people who really need them. I do not like receiving gifts that I do not need and do not want. Truth be told, I take back all clothes that I am given because other people buy for me what they like not what they think I would like (see also, Vicki's gift, last Christmas gifts from my MIL and mother and just about everything else I have ever received, ever). I try to buy gifts for people that I think they would like - not things I would like. For example, I got my mother an aqua and brown blouse. I would never in a billion years wear that, but she;ll love it. My buying it for her will undoubtedly convince her that I love it too, so I can expect a clone of it for my birthday. Also, I would never ever buy myself a one-hundred dollar garbage can, but I got one for my MIL. And, I would never buy a FIsher Price Annoying Animals Choo Choo for my home, but I got one for someone else.

Back to what I was saying. I have been pretty specific with the grandparents when they ask what Chuckles needs for Christmas. I have forbidden battery-operated toys from my home (and no, mom, not because I am too cheap to buy batteries...I am trying to foster creativity here). Chuckles does not need anything. The child has adoring and loving parents, a warm enough home (66 deg-F during the day, 62 overnight), plenty of organic, whole grain food to eat (or not eat as the case often is), clothing to wear, sixteen hats, a billion books but heaven forbid we can't find Pumpkin Patch Puppy, balls, blocks, The Farmer Says See N Say, and so on. He does not need anything.

So, I suggested to my mom that she just make a donation to his college fund. She says she is obliging, so that is good. I told my MIL that he needed size 7 gym shoes (and yes, in the midwest we call them gym shoes, call them sneakers or tennis shoes if you wish). My mother in law will undoubtedly buy him toys that are objectionable to me. I think they will either go back to the store or be donated to the Salvation Army. And in fact, I think next year, I will ask that everyone skip Christmas and we just adopt a family or two because I just cannot take the commercial aspects any more. No more. I am a grinch who wants to do good things. So, I will. Or maybe, we can put a $10 limit on the gifts and do the rest to Toys for Tots. Then, we can give/receive gifts and have fun bargain hunting and we can give to those who lack the things we take for granted. Yes, I think I will suggest this at Easter so they all have time to stew on that.

I love my mother-in-law dearly. My mother too. It's just both of them disregard the rules I have set for my child. ANd to a certain extent, I think that's OK and normal and healthy because it is great to go somewhere where that person loves you a lot and you can do whatever and they will still love you. That's what grandparents are for. I just think those annoying battery-operated toys need to live at Grandma's house.

Big Day Big Day

I got my profit sharing bonus today. Now, keep in mind I've only been working for six weeks and I have only been working 24 hours per week, but my bonus was $150. So, like when I really work and stuff, I imagine these bonuses can get rather large. In fact, I have heard some people talk about how much was taken out of their bonuses in taxes (about $8,000), so by my crude math, I figure teh bonuses are often in excess of $15,000. That's some real change. I look forward to learning if that is true.

In fact, in case anyone was wondering why I took a pay cut and am living apart from my family and relocating and ruining Christmas (for the second consecutive year), the promise of a large bonus someday is the reason. A bonus like that could send Chuckles to summer fractions camp or community college or, heck, rehab (should the need arise) or therapy if he needs to work through why he hates his mother (or loves her).

Is this love that I'm feeling?

Chuckles either (a) loves me or (b) hates me as he hates none other.

Example 1: while away for two nights over the weekend, Chuckles slept all.the.way.through.the.night from bedtime until morning for his grandparents. Both nights.

Example 2: He often and frequently sleeps through the night for his father while I am away working in the salt mines.

Example 3: He does not sleep through the night when I am at home.

Ergo, he either hates me and is punishing me or loves e so much he wants to spend extra time with me.

What's for Dinner

I'm about a week behind in telling you what I had for dinner, so here goes as best is my recollection.
Wednesday: cold fried chicken that was warmed by my own white-hot rage (rage is now gone...I was a big person and told Mr. L-S what I needed from him in a calm and non-threatening way and now he is giving it to me....oh, I so hate being adult)
Thursday: Hardee's
Friday: Amazingly wonderful Hibachi at a Japanese steakhouse with saki, edamame, squid salad, filet, shrimp, scallops, garlic, and good company (hello Carly, long time no see)...dinner for three was only about $70 and there were three filets of mignon served along with six shrimp and a bunch of scallops.
Saturday: salad from some Italian-themed fast food restaurant
Sunday: baked fussili pasta with sausage and a bottle of cabernet
Monday: chicken with cannelini beans and wilted spinach (and if you know me you will also know that I am completely incapable of following a recipe to the letter, so let's just say I used that recipe, but I added chicken and used brown rice instead of orichette)
Tuesday: brocolli & chicken

Monday, December 11, 2006

First things First

I have much to say about the wonderful weekend I spent with Carly, but first, I must complain.

The mister and I have been together a long time. He should be able to read my mind, or at least able to read men's magazines which are pretty clear that you should "Never ever ever buy your wife lingerie for Christmas unless she has circled the thing she wants, indicated color preference and spelled out the size with a magic marker." Can you tell that Mr. Long-Suffering purchased some lingerie for me?

It's true. And he already gave it to me (since he didn't want me to open it on Christmas in front of people). It is currently in the drop box at UPS on its way back to Vicki. She can have it. I must say it wasn't horrible (pretty modest, cotton, correct size), but it wasn't good either (boy cut shorts for a grown, curvy women who has given birth relatively recently and whose body, apparently, shows some signs of both wear and tear). And with you all as my witnesses, I would never wear it again.

Oh, and I cried. It just looked so unflattering and he clearly was so happy and oblivious. In fact, just thinking about it makes me tear up right now. What is WRONG with me and the crying? And seriously, I always thought I had a pretty good body image. I've always thought I was pretty hot. Apparently, when push comes to shove and there is lingerie and a mirror, I don't actually think I'm that hot. Very disappointing to give into society's view on beauty.

So, as a Public Service Announcement, if I have any male readers, here are the rules:
  1. Do not buy your wife lingerie. It's not really a present for her. A good wife will buy herself lingerie and wrap it up and give it to you. That's who really gets the gift.
  2. Exceptions to Rule #1: She has been very specific about what she wants and you know what she wants and can get it OR you give her a gift card for lingerie. Gift cards are not especially romantic, but you're married and have kids and a mortgage, this is practical. You can do something clever with the gift card like hide it in her underwear drawer if you want (or in the cereal box so she smiles before work).

Thursday, December 07, 2006


I am angry and upset iwth Mr. Long-Suffering. "For what?" you ask. Or at least you would ask if any of you ever commented here.

Anyway, I am angry with the mister because, well, basically, he is not a mind reader. Now, normally, this would appear obvious to all and there would be no problem. However, I am going through menopause or something and am completely irrational. Ergo, my husband must be at fault.

I feel better just having written that. Whew. There's a load off of my mind. By the way, the mister is not aware of the white-hot rage I have for him, so let's keep it a secret between you, me, and Google, shall we?

In other news, Chuckles needed a nap and I had a single piece of mail that needed to go out some time in the next month, so I took a gratuitous ride in the car to the post office two towns over. He's napping now, so I feel good about my contribution to this supposed global warming by driving my child in my SUV just so I could get a few minutes peace....I mean so he could take a much-needed nap.

Oh, and the stockings have been hung above the TV with care. Our cat's stocking was in the box with the others. What am I supposed to do with that? Do I just throw it out or bury in the backyard? She's been gone two months and one day and sometimes, I still think I see her when there is a crumpled paper bag on the living room floor.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Worst Road Signs - Ever

I've been doing a lot of driving with the new job in another state. Here are my all-time least favorite signs:
  • Road Repairs next 53 miles (FIFTY-THREE!!!)
  • Expect Delays
  • Expressway (my ass, it's express)
  • Freeway (not around here....I have my toll payer thingy...and dude, we're not in California where they call them freeways)
  • Follow posted detour
  • Ramp reopening Spring 2008 (and then a sign from the governor thanking you for visiting)

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Number Two

And I'm not talking poopie, here.

I always thought I either wanted no children or two kids 18-months apart. Well, Chuckles is 19-months old today and I don't have a one-month old at home, so I guess that didn't pan out.

Anyway, I just weaned at 11+ months, so getting pregnant before that would have been inadvisable (if not downright impossible given that you aren't supposed to take fertility drugs while nursing). I've really enjoyed having my body back to "normal" and to myself (to share as I see fit, now that things in the nethers are back to normal as well....see sahara of several posts back). Mr. Long-Suffering has enjoyed my slightly more estrogen filled self as well. I'm somewhat less moody and a little more nice. The differences based on a few hormones are quite striking.

I'm not entirely sure I want a second one as the first is still....STILL....still...not sleeping through the night more than a night or two per week. A few weeks ago, we had four or five nights in a row and I thought we were home free, but I was wrong. So very wrong. Oh, so wrong. Hubris gets me every time. And, overall, Chuckles is getting easier. I had a hard go of it the first time around. The changes that happen in your life when you go from two to three are stunning. I felt like I got smacked in the back of the head by a 2x4. Maybe I had PPD, but mostly, I think that's just how it is/was. I hear going from three to four is a lot easier. But, we like devoting all our time and energy to Chuckles. He's great and clearly is thriving with the attention. He goes to day care so he has plenty of interactions with other children. In fact, just last week someone bit him (they won't tell us who did it, but I have my suspicions).

So, I just started a new job. Obviously, I would not want to fall pregnant right away (the Brits say "fall pregnant" and I love it and will use it frequently. It sounds like you fell down, and when you got back up, your knee was skinned, and well, whoops, pregnant). So, anyway, new job. My husband's health insurance does not cover fertility treatment, but mine will as I work in a mandatory coverage state. So, I'll need to wait for that to kick in. Then, I want to be on the job a bit before I try, so that I'm vital and will be missed while on maternity leave (and so that I can scope out the pumping situation). So, I might think about possibly maybe trying when Chuckles is about 2, but I can really wait until he's 4 or 5 since I won't be 35 for four whole years here. And a 4 or 5 year age difference would allow us to devote a lot of time and energy to each kid and give them all that we have to offer as doting parents. BUT, with the whole infertility thing, there are no guarantees we can even get pregnant again (see no period since July 2004).

I might just stop the pill and see what happens, except I know what will happen and it is decidedly unpleasant (no period for 45-65 days, then a period for 3 weeks that consists alternately of regular heavy bleeding and sticky brown bleeding and never knowing whether I'll need a tampon, mini-pad or maxi-pad when I leave the house in the morning, then it will taper off and I will go another 45-90 days with no period...etc). Eventually, I will call the doctor and they will give me Provera (aka Medrox or medoxyprogesterone) to do one of two things: stop a long period or bring on a period after three months without one. Yes, the same drugs does both of those things. Eventually, the office will tire of me and tell me to go back on the pill or come in for the fertility drugs so I can get the show on the road. Ha.

So, to have another baby or not, that is the question. For now, I'll be upstairs taking my Seasonale and googling perfect age spacing between children. By the way, according to the linked article, it usually takes a short length of time for the first child to come to accept the second child. It says only eight months. Do you have any idea how long eight months is? That's a really long time for the first born to be extra clingy. Oh my gosh, how would you even cope? This is why I worry about #2. The one good or bad thing (depending on how you see life)...many people try to plan these things and fate steps in and gives them an unplanned pregnancy. I'm not saying it couldn't happen to me, just I'm not betting on fate stepping in and handing me a swaddled bundle of joy.

Oh, and Chuckles if your Daddy has taught you to read while I've been gone and you're reading's not because you're not enough for us that we think about another. It's not because you're not good enough or you're allergic to milk or we think we didn't get things right with you and we'll do better next time. It's precisely because you are so good, so smart, so wonderful, so cute, so loving, so charming and so funny that we think it might be nice to have another breath of fresh air in our lives and someone for you to teach and with whom you can play and who can help you take care of us when we're old and with whom you can fight over our stuff when we die, someone with whom you can say "remember that time when..." after your father and I are gone. Number 2 would be for you. I would love watching you interact with a baby (although, I have realized you're not particularly fond of babies...especially when they are sitting on my lap).

More Shopping

Mr. Long-Suffering and I bought my MIL a simplehuman 40-liter stainless steel garbage can for Christmas. I used one of those 20% off coupons from Bed, Bath, and Beyond on it, but it's still a $120 garbage can for pete's sake. I mean, ugh. But, I am pretty sure she wants it and I always try to WOW her with a great gift since she and FIL pick Chuckles up from school every Wednesday when Mr. L-S has to work late (and I am an absentee mother).

On Sunday, to thank my SIL and her husband for their great generosity in letting me stay with them, I brought an awesome bottle of wine. I brought a Beaulieu Vineyards cabernet sauvignon. It's about a $20 bottle and I love Beaulieu. According to a Burt Wolf show I saw on PBS many years ago, BV continued making wines throughout Prohibition as they had the contracts to supply altar wine to the NY and Boston diocese. (According to legend, the railcars kept falling off the tracks in Chicago en route to the east coast, but whatever, we have fun in Chicago.) According to the BV website:
When Prohibition was repealed in 1933, Georges de Latour had become a wealthy
man, and his facilities were thoroughly up to date. He had never completely
ceased making regular table wines, and had been aging them patiently in the
cellars, waiting for the widely flouted laws to change. When the day of
repeal finally came, BV was ready to recommence offering wines to the
general public.

I also got my SIL a silver plated picture frame Christmas ornament engraved with 2006, in which to put her son's 1st Christmas picture. Merry merry.

Ladies who Dine

Went to dinner with Jenn on Monday. We met at the Cheesecake Factory after work. I got there first and got us a table across from the cutest baby in the world who is not my son. By the time Jenn rolled in from her monster commute, I was one cocktail into it. But, let's just say that was a freebie. It was cold, and I ordered hard coffee. I was tired and needed the caffeine. So, Irish Coffee it was.

I had avocado egg rolls followed by classic strawberry cheesecake. Jenn could not make up her frickin' mind as to what to order since they removed her much-beloved chicken Oscar sandwich from the menu. I didn't mind though, as her company was sparkling. Like champagne. She had a glass of Cheesecake Factory signature Robert Mondavi Carbernet Sauvignon, which I convinced her to try. SHe never did say if it was good.

We went to the Coach purse and accessories store (they now sell over-priced dog collars as well). I picked up a catalogue for a guy at work. I told him to throw it on the seat in his car to throw his wife off the trail of the mp3 player he got her. She might be awfully disappointed CHristmas morning then though.

Jenn and I had a great, if short, time together. Isn't it always a good time when someone loses her clothes (me, of course...Jenn was kind enough not to offer me anything to help clothe me, but heck, what can I expect when I lose clothes in a restaurant?).


Uh, it was minus 1 degree this morning. Brrr. My chewing gum and water froze in my car.

Sunday Dinner

Mr. Long-Suffering grilled lamb in 20-degree weather. I made rice, salad, SteamFresh green beans (new from Green easy), and a cake from a box. My in-laws came. All was well.

Friday, December 01, 2006


Chuckles loves to push laundry baskets around the basement. Full. Empty. Filled with things other than laundry. Whee. Right now, he has an orange laundry basket filled with a pair of Mr. Long-Suffering's shoes (shooz!!!).


The weather man promised me 8" last night, but I didn't get it.

Eight inches of snow, you perve. We have only a trace sticking to the ground though. It's warm and most of it melted, pervert.

More about my little foray into speeding ticket land

I'll be attending driving school in a state in which I do not live in a county no where near my home. But, since I live half the time with my SIL and her hubby, it will be just fine.

So, I had asked my SIL and her hubby on Thanksigiving if they run radar through that nature preserve and they assured me that the police did not. This was confirmed when I noticed my BIL drived 60 mph through there. So, when I noticed I was going 40, I had two options, obviosuly. I could slow down or put on my brights so I could see any animals that were about to dart in front of me. I opted to put on my brights, which illuminated the highly-reflective police car that was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill around the curve. Whee.

Did I ever tell you about the time....

My son was in the stroller and I was pushing him down the side of US-51 while on vacation with my in-laws. We hit a big bump and he started to cry. I told him he was a big boy and OK, it was just a startling bump. He kept whining, so I handed him a sippy cup. A while later he was still whimpering, so I got to a safe place and pulled to the side to look him in the eye and reassure him he was fine. When I got to the front of the stroller, I discovered the whole thing and the baby (15 mos old at the time) were covered in BLOOD. He had bitten his lip or tongue when we hit the bump. I don't feel as bad as I should because my mother-in-law was with me at the time and didn't notice it either. I ended up carrying him back to the camp over my shoulder (over a mile) while MIL pushed the stroller (he would not go to her for this and for that she was very hurt...HA). He fell asleep on the way back. We all ended up covered in blood and when we got back to camp, everyone wanted to know what happened and who had attacked us.


Ate no lunch, 7 mini-pretels for dinner, and absolutely nothing for breakfast (although he did have two cups of soy milk for breakfast and a cup before bed). How many meals can he miss before I worry?
Note: I'm honestly not too worried since the kid slept through the night last night. In fact, if skipping dinner helps that, he might never eat dinner again.


I went to Macy's today. We just got them in Chicago. They bought my much-beloved Marshall Field's. So, I went there because I had one last MF gift card and I wasn't sure how long they'd honor them. I'm unimpressed though. MF always had a huge Christmas tree in the basement and you could get all these beautiful ornaments (with CHicago themes) in their trim-a-tree department and Frango mints at every register. No such things at Macy's. They were pushing hard for me to open a Macy's charge and that just pisses me off too.
Oh, and the mall I visited is in the rather-serious ghetto (armed robbery in broad daylight, anyone). I took Chuckles. We do not have a death wish. I just figured since it was a mild blizzard out, I'd be able to push a robber or attacker away and he'd slip on the ice and fall. All told, I got there at 10:03 and I was out of the parking lot by 10:30. Macy's, I'm not fan (plus only communists have red stars, and dangit, we're Americans...see our Christmas cookies for proof).

Not pregnant, probably

My feet are swollen to the point where my shoes hurt. Also, I am crying at everything. It's a good thing that darn Maxwell House commercial isn't on yet because as soon as Peter surprises his mother, I'm a wreck - even under the best of circumstances.

But what is going on? Well, I have a few theories. I am in my 7th week of consecutive birth control pills so maybe something there. Or, maybe it's because I got a ticket and I'm still angry about that. Or possibly, the stress of working away from home during the holiday season is getting to me. Let's say it's that one.