Friday, July 31, 2009

Full Circle

First things first: It was hives as an allergic reaction to Amoxicillin which was treating Baby's Second Ear Infection. His airway was not compromised, and the hives are resolving.


Now onto the main event.

Twenty years ago it was 1989. I think Family Ties was popular as was Guns-N-Roses. My hair was big and so was Kip Winger's. My family had not a lot of money, but I still wanted to be stylish. I had a very large, white pleather hand-me-down purse with only a small ink stain on it. I had a jean skirt. So, my purse wasn't Liz Clairborne and my cologne was Designer Imposters' Primo (for Giorigio), but I was making do.

Everyone was wearing IOU Sweatshirts and Guess? jeans. Other places Cavaricci jeans were big, but in my town, it was Guess? I had one pair of hand-me-down Palmetto jeans which were almost as good as Guess? but they were white and blue pinstripe. I couldn't exactly pull off wearing those every day. I thought about cutting the tag off of the back and sewing it onto my Chic jeans.

One day, my mom, realizing I needed more pants, came home with a new pair of jeans for me. I was so excited. Would they be extra-high-waisted with pleats and taper to a nice, tight ankle...maybe with zippers on the ankles? Well, no. They were not.

They were inky blue whereas I wanted something lighter, something paler, something... splotchier. Perhaps something that had been splattered with bleach or washed with acid. Yes, acid washed, perhaps. They had straight legs. I wanted something more tapered, possibly improbably tapered. Tapered so much you could barely get your foot out of the bottom, possibly making those little ankle zippers a true necessity. I wanted something I could tight roll without too much hassle. I wanted something that would really set my hips off from the rest of me. They had a flat front. I wanted pleats. Lots of big pleats to add extra fabric to my mid-section, really setting my hips off again. Apparently, I wanted to look like a peg-legged pirate. But worst of all, they were from K-Mart. K-Mart did not make Guess? jeans. K-Mart did not sell Z. Cavariccis. K-Mart! Was my mother trying to kill me?

I'm sure I sulked. I am sure I whined. And I know for absolute sure that I washed those jeans in hot hot hot water with detergent and a hint of bleach trying to get them to lighten up a little. And I figured if I used safety pins, just so, that I could get them to tight roll into a taper. And who would notice my tight rolling when I was wearing three pairs of awesome color-coordinating slouch socks? And I figured if I wore my longest aqua blue sweatshirt, maybe no one would notice the lack of pleats and lack of name brand on the pocket. Maybe. I'm pretty sure everyone noticed.


Flash forward to this morning as I was getting dressed in my Kohl's jeans. They are a dark inky blue with a flat front and a wide leg. And I am happy about this. They might be considered "mom jeans". And I needed to make sure I didn't accidentally tuck my boobs into them as I was zipping up. Other than that, all good.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

What my blog would look like if I twittered (or tweeted)

I have a co-worker. We email during the day. Some excepts. I'll be SC and he'll be CoW.

SC: Woo hoo. And Jersey Boys was good and the Bean yesterday was good (but we got caught in traffic because of some bike race).

CoW: Hot damn, I’ll probably never see Jersey Boys but it’s good to know. That bike race was pretty sweet! They were flying through the closed course at 32 mph for 50 miles. If that was the only thing you got stuck behind then you had an easy trip. I played a new game this yesterday, bike polo. It’s just like polo but on bikes obviously. It gave me a little bit of a beating when I tried it on my bmx bike with out a hand to brake with or a seat to balance more on. It was so much fun though.

SC: It took us ONE HOUR to go FIVE BLOCKS thanks to that bike race. We could see the entrance to the parking garage and just. Couldn’t. get. There. We could abandon car and get on with it already, but no. Bike polo. I saw some guys in the US training for elephant polo by sitting on the roofs of SUVs (and playing polo, obviously).

CoW: You couldn’t have gone to a different parking garage? Come on, you know the city. How exactly does sitting on to of a SUV help you train for Elephant polo? You aren’t controlling anything from the top of an SUV just swinging a mallet.

SC: I was gridlocked. I couldn’t go anywhere. At all. Someone else “drives” the elephant for you while you play polo so it’s probably very similar.

CoW: Haha I’m going to be a jackass here and say you did travel 5 blocks so there was 2-4 chances for you to turn off. That is why I don’t drive in the city, it’s just a hassle and not nearly as fun. I feel a little let down that you are steering the elephant at the same time but it is still pretty funny. I wonder if there are any elephant collisions like there were with bikes.

SC: Michigan avenue was closed, so any turns to the east were not permitted. All one-way streets. So, perhaps one chance to turn and go west but there was construction on Adams. Very booo-urns.

CoW: You don’t seem bitter enough. Can you imagine my frustration when it took me 3 hours to get home once this last winter? 2.5 hours of that was within the last 6 miles. We really need to get going with those matter transporters already.

SC: If you get a matter transporter, will you let me borrow it? I want to beam myself to the day care a couple of times a day just to check in. And I’d like to see my sister in Vegas occasionally too.

CoW: If you had matter transporters we wouldn’t even have to live around here to get to work. I’d be some place warm to get out of these damn winters! I could imagine that the birth rate would also increase since it would make booty calls so much easier.

SC: And childbirth would be a snap because, you know, just beam the baby out.

CoW: If we weren’t already over populated this would do it. Won’t some one please think of the children.

SC: Mrs. Lovejoy. I got the reference. Well, it’s Tuesday now. That is all.

CoW: If this week was like last week it would have been Wednesday already. You got to love it some times when your mind is a day behind the actual date. I tried to run a query over night and came in to find nearly a dozen ODBC call failures. I don’t know why one wasn’t enough for an unmanned computer. I think I’m going to camp at the Michigan dunes this weekend. I’ve never been and it could be dandy. That is all.

SC: Day care called. Someone needs to go get small. He has hives. What the H? I am staying at work. I had someone call secret husband on the radio because his cell wasn’t getting reception. Go get your hive-y kid. All my queries have been working today. Yay. I wrote a new one and learned about a new table.

CoW: What the hell is with smalls lately? Jesus. Did you have some one call him on the radio and say call your wife or pick up your hive-y kid? Either of those would have been really entertaining to hear. [redacted work stuff involving computers and databases]

SC: No, I had him call dave on the phone and then dave told him to “call carrie” and my husband, the truly devoted, said, “Carey who?”.

CoW: Secret husband has put me to shame though since not only are you his wife but he’s known you for a hell of a lot longer. [story redacted about this time he was pulling into the car hole when his cell rang and it was his not-quite-girlfriend (twenty-somethings and their texting and girlfriends and unfettered single lives)]

SC: I really do enjoy that you use the phrase “car hole” and I totally know what you meant, Moe. And now I know that Burb girl has a name. Secret does win points by going home to be with hive-boy…who is going to the doctor this afternoon for the third time since Wednesday.

CoW: Calling it the car hole only seems fitting even though there are 6 times as many bikes as cars in there. I thought I told you burb girls name was Nicole before. If I did or didn’t it doesn’t matter too much because nicknames for people is so much more entertaining between us any way. Can small make it 4 visits by tomorrow?

SC: Oh, man, I hope not. Those visits aren’t free, you know. So, [redacted name of gossipy coworker] called me yesterday to see if I had any gossip as to why one of the pre-K teachers just didn’t come back one day (fired, quit in frustration, etc). I had no idea. I had just assumed Miss X was on summer vacay. So, now, I must get the scoop.

CoW: What, isn’t it like a $20 co-pay? Are you telling me I should start some sort of savings plan for a kid, those little buggers just seem to take it all. How well do you know that she really isn’t out on vacation or maybe even a family emergency? I had no idea [redacted name of other coworker] would be such a gossiper.

SC: Well, I don’t know, but I can find out (and [redacted name of foreign-born coworker whose child goes to day care with Chuckles] can’t because the subtleties of the language and appropriate volume levels for gossip are too much for her). And yes, start saving now. They’re expensive.

CoW: Haha one day she will learn… Man, I don’t even think I have to experience having my own kid yet to know you aren’t lying when you say kids mess everything up. [boring work stuff redacted]

SC: Doctor appointment in 20 minutes. What do you think is wrong with hive-boy?
(a) Mumps or chicken pox
(b) Allergies
(c) Nothing
(d) eczema
(e) other
I’m leaning toward C, although b with a hint of d is always a possibility.

CoW: I’m thinking B myself. I have a feeling that the rash he had the other day could be related to it is some way, maybe detergent or something.

SC: Definitely not lotion, soap, or detergent because #1 son is also rash-boy so all irritants were removed from our house in 2005. He is wearing a new shirt today though and I didn’t wash it first, so maybe the sizing they put in the new clothes (although he wore a shirt out of the same package last week without incident).

CoW: Chuckles is not Bobo though so how can you rule out some sort of reaction? Couldn’t it possibly develop from coming into contact with something at day care? I’m going to make you paranoid if I keep on going.

SC: Chuckles used to get rashy at day care and I would pick him up and by the time I got him home, there’d be nothing. ‘twas maddening. Their carpet cleaner was causing him to react so whenever they set him down, he’d explode in red. Very pretty. My boys are so sensitive. Have I made you look at pictures of my boys lately?

CoW: See maybe it’s something just like that, it happens. Are your kids Irish at all? The Irish seem sensitive to me. Bobo looks like a very photogenic little guy and he’s already picking up some cute girls. Chuckles has some pretty good posses there too I must say.

SC: I am Irish, therefore, my children are Irish as well. Doctor's report: It’s either allergic or viral, they don’t know. He’s off amoxicillin and on Zyrtec now. I’m home with him again tomorrow. He has to go back if it's worse tomorrow. Dang!



This is the reason you don't get more posts from me. I have nothing. [boring stuff about my life and what I ate redacted]

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Nike Plunge

I have a new theory since having Bobo. Just do it. It might be awful. It might be fine. You'll never know unless you try.

With Chuckles, I tried. And I failed. And then we stopped doing until he was older. We just stayed home. He always needed to eat and never slept when we went anywhere. It was sort of miserable. A few times we left him with his grandparents. We would hurry back in 2 hours. He wouldn't take a bottle, and well, it's a good thing my memory fails me because it was a whole lot of suck.

So, since this is all I knew of babies, I was shocked. Shocked! That other parents went away for the weekend sans child. Or went to a liesurely dinner. Or a movie. Or to a friend's house for the evening. Or on vacation and came back more relaxed than when they left. It was so foreign to me.

Fast-forward to today. Well, last night actually. Mr. Long-Suffering and I lef the kids at home with Mimi and Papa and went to see Jersey Boys. At intermission, I called home. Chuckles was alseep (without issue). Bobo was still awake and quite happy to be watching the toys dangling over his head. He didn't take a bottle but seemed fine. I was concerned since it was 9:30 (2 full hours after Bobo's typical bedtime and he is still a little sick). I decided it didn't matter and whatever. So, I didn't call again and we left right after the show. Bobo was asleep when we got home. I guess after I prodded her about the sleep, Mimi gave it another try and Bobo went right down. He woke up at 2 am to eat, and then at 6:20 I brought him to my bed to nurse again (and I assume he went back to sleep...I did, at least).

Even though I am so tired (I was up after midnight and out after dark), I am invigorated. I wore heels. ANd jewelry (I nursed Bobo right before I left and he was transfixed. He'd never seen me in a necklace before.). For 6 hours, I was a grown-up. It was all kinds of awesome.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

The Ask Moxie Chicago Meet-Up

The AskMoxie Chicago meet up is this Sunday, July 26th at 2pm at the Bean in Millenium Park. I'm planning on being there so if you hang on Ask Moxie (or here), come on down and say, "Hi."

If you stalk me though, please be nice.

I told my husband I was taking the kids and going downtown to meet strangers I met on the internet. He was unaumsed. I think that's the right way to put it. I told him I'd bring my mace and somehow he pictured a giant spiked, metal ball on a chain. That ought to go over huge on the train.

Anyway, I will bring at least Bobo, the nursling, because the nursing and the pump hating. I may also bring Chuckles so he can go in the fountain. And I might bring Mr. Long-Suffering since you know, four hands and whatnot. But I swear, he'd be in the background holding kids and keeping them from flinging themselves out onto Michigan Avenue.

Shannon says she's coming in from Homewood (I'll be coming in to Randolph Street Station on the South Shore, so if you're coming in on Metra, we'll, like, totally be at the same train station). I'd like to give a shout-out to Homewood as I lived there from 1989 - 1994 (and had that as my "permanent addess" until 1997). I also graduated from Homewood-Flossmoor HS. Class of 1994. And I went on Facebook and looked at the Class of '94 group and well, huh, that was weird. My real question is: Why are there people on that Facebook Group that did not actually graduate in 1994? Are there fans of '94? 'Cause really, we weren't all that great. Although, I think our prom was at the Drake, which was quite cool (or maybe the Palmer House...I have no idea).

Anyway, I'll be at the Bean. Or at least I plan to be. I am home from work right now because Bobo had a little fever this morning (100.9 rectally). Acetominophen was admistered but didn't seem to do anything. He's asleep right now, but if the fever's still here when he wakes up, I might actually take him for an ear check since he's not that far out from his last ear infection and I don't need that.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Back from "Vacation"

Well, I survived. And the 7 loads of vacation-related laundry are done. In fact, I have no idea how we came home with so much laundry when we each wore the same three outfits the whole week. It was unseasonably cool. Well, had it been October, it would have been seasonable, but for July notsomuch. We had one day where it didn't even get into the 60s. Considering I like watersports, this was not a good turn of events. It was plenty windy but not nearly pleasant enough to rent a sailboat. It was too cold to sit and watch a lumberjack show. Actually, that's not true. Had I packed snowsuits, it would have been fine. I should say "Had I packed enough winter clothes, it would have been plenty warm enough out to sit and watch a lumberjack (or water ski) show". See, it's my lack of planning that made the weather seem miserable.

Anyway, we went, we saw, we were conquered or something to that effect. The kids slept well enough (actually, except for one night they both slept pretty poorly, but I was expecting worse so I was pleasantly surprised). Chuckles slept on his kids' aerobed which really is the bomb. Bobo slept half in his Pack-n-Play at night and half in our bed (to steal our warmth) and all naps were had on the (squishy, leaning downhill, full-sized) bed with the pack-n-play, two walls, and a stack of pillows to keep him from rolling out (although truth be told, he's just not that into locomoting. He can roll and army crawl, but he chooses not to do so). Bobo however now will eat baby food (stage 2) by the jarful and knows how to pincer grasp and feed himself toasted oat rings (aka Cheerios).

All-in-all it was a fine vacation. Chuckles got to fish. Chuckles got to go to an indoor waterpark (and I got to do the slides). Bobo had baby's first boat ride (but really, how come every time I got in a boat some kid fell asleep on me?). Chuckles caught his first 8 fish ever. Chuckles had his first pony ride, he got to ride go-karts. and did myriad other things like play with his Leapster (which is some little video game thing that he is not normally allowed to do but for the car ride....). And we got 27 miles per gallon on the return trip with the A/C off (since, you know, cold for free). Somehow, that's my highlight.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Stil here, Still Alive, Going on "Vacation"

Another year has come and gone and tomorrow, I am leaving with the whole family for a week in the Northwoods. Why am I going back? Why why why? A small price to pay for not getting divorced, I suppose.

Here’s what’s up with us. Chuckles is 42 pounds and 41.5” tall and if I stick his hair straight up, he might be tall enough to go down the water slide at the water park on vacation.
He rides a bike with training wheels, can get his own cereal for breakfast, and is in charge of watering our garden (granted, sometimes he waters the patio and the other day he sprayed me, but he’s learning). His handwriting is coming along, but his reading really stalled out recently. He must be working on some other skill (maybe math or learning to turn on the TV). He is nighttime potty trained pretty much all the way now (we still do pick him up out of bed before we go to sleep to take him potty…I don’t think he even wakes up for that). Oddly, Bobo woke up with dry diapers two days last week (once on a day when I didn’t feed him overnight and the other time was after I had fed him, so who knows!).

Bobo was 20 lbs 4 ounces about 3 weeks ago when we went to Urgent Care on a Sunday for Baby’s First Ear Infection and Baby's First Amoxicillin. Yesterday he was 20 lbs 6 ounces, which seems like a little slow on the growth there, but as long as it's going up (and following Chuckles's growth curve closely), I guess I don't need to replace breast milk with butter cream frosting. Chuckles was so jealous that Bobo got to take his much-beloved pink amox (and Bobo was spitting it out which just enraged Chuckles more). So, Chuckles kept telling me his throat hurt and the next thing I knew he had a fever for a day. So, he got purple ibuprofen and was pretty mellow then. Unfortunately, he missed a field trip with the day care/summer camp due to the fever, but I think he preferred the purple stuff to the planetarium.

Bobo is still not a fan of solid foods. I had to take him off of cereal (and the formula I used to mix with it) because it turned his poop screamy. That seems better and we've introduced Cheerios. He does eat a variety of things but sometimes nothing. So, it’s less than fun but I never worry if we’re busy and I don’t get around to feeding him since he doesn’t care and doesn’t seem to need it. In fact just last night....

Bobo has started rolling over with the fierce moral urgency that comes with knowing your binky is right there and no one is giving it to you.

The issue with the swaddle worked itself out all on its own as I hoped it would, and it was so very much not a painful process because we let it come to an end all on its own (and Bobo is innately an easy child). There was a warm spell, and he needed to be naked in the swaddle and then he wanted to be sleeping on his stomach and well, anyway, after two nights of being helped in the night, he now sleeps without the swaddle (sometimes all the way through the night until morning which is like mind blowing because he's so young....at least in comparison to Sir Sleeps-A-Not).

I’ve been working a bit on night weaning....and by working I mean being too lazy to get up out of bed int he night without a damned good reason. That’s where Dad goes in when he cries in the night and if he can calm Bobo down, I don’t go in and feed him. And if Mr. Long-Suffering can’t get him to settle in the night, I do go in and feed him. It’s working somewhat. Several nights recently, I didn’t have to get out of bed all night. He sits up very nicely and is trying to figure out how to go forward while crawling. He knows how to push and go backward (and wind up under the couch).

Chuckles did a very bad thing at school the other day and then lied about it (and then hit and didn't apologize and then lied about hitting me) and well, after 9 time-outs in a row and bedtime fast-approaching, I threw pajamas on him, force brushed his teeth and told him it was bed time. And then I didn't give him a vitamin or read him stories and he didn't want hugs or kisses, so that was that. Now, where do I go to get my Mean Mom Card laminated?
Last night, however, was a lovely evening with stories and hugs and kisses and teeth and bath and lovey dovey and when I went in to his room at 9pm to get socks to pack for vacation, he was still up reading comic books quietly in his bed on his own without need for intervention from me. Carry on, then.

We've been singing the Erie Canal Song. I recommend the Suzanne Vega version available on youtube. While you're there, check out Johnny Cash doing Camptown Races.

I'll see you in a week when I come back and regale you with stories of my lumberjackedness.