Wednesday, October 28, 2009

A long way to get to nothing

I spent three hours in a tiny little room in a meeting with a woman whose daughter was home from school (with her Dad) because she had swine flu. Swine Flu?!? Now, I'm not terribly alarmist. We've had our fair share (and someone else's fair share too) of illness at Maison Sarcastique. But I would like to catch a break here for a bit and just not get sick for a week, ok? OK?!? Do you hear me world??? So, please, let us not contract the swine flu right now.

Also, Dear Bobo, not sleeping is your brother's trick. Get your own thing. Something that doesn't invovle me being out of bed between 10 pm and 6 am. Explosive pooping would be fine, if a little laundry intensive.

Last night, as I was tucking Chuckles in to bed and giving him a little kiss, he said, "I love you." Swoon. Swoon, I say. Then he added, "And Megan." Megan? My baby has his first little crush. When he and Megan were 2.5they played Homeliving (which is like "house" for the 21st century) and had five babies who all went poopie at the same time and they ran out of diapers and had to go to the store for diapers for their five babies who were poopie. So, there is history with Megan. She'd make a fine daughter-in-law. But, next year when Big School starts, they're in different schools.

Which reminds me....when I was 3 and 4, I went to co-op preschool at a local church. There was one little boy there, Matthew Springer (don't tell me if you look him up on Facebook, I prefer ignorance), with whom I used to hold hands while running across the field to the playground. One year, he (his mom?) sent me a Christmas card in the mail. In the mail. I got mail through the slot in the door addressed to me. When preschool ended, and we went off to kindergarten, he went to a different school (probably even a different district since we didn't reconnect in Middle School). When the neighborhood turned, everyone moved away anyway.

So, I went to Middle School, moved between 7th and 8th grades to a neighborhood known for impeccable schools, and went to fabulous High School. Now, I was just a girl from the South Side going to a fancy high school in a nice neighborhood. The clothes, the cars, the money, the no after-school jobs. I did not fit in. When it came time for college, I was glad to be done with HS. I just didn't fit in, but Fancy HS had opened my eyes up to a larger world with college and the things that education could do for me. So, I opted not to go to State Univerity which was known as the 8-year HS plan since literally hundreds of people from my graduating class would go there. Instead I opted for a small, private university (which stupidly, I did not realize would be a lot like HS with the clothes, cars, and cash).

I went off to university and fell in love, hard, with a guy from the South Side who was also paying his way through university. He had gone to one of the better Catholic HS and gotten into elite college as well (South Side kids make good, they call it). So, we were in love, and one day, we were sitting somewhere smoking (!) when a guy walked up and said, "Hi" to my love. So, my love, being the most mannerly and gentlemanly sort, stood up to shake the guy's hand and introduced him to me. "Carrie," he said, as that was my name back then as well, "I'd like you to meet Matt Springer. We went to St. Catholic's together." It was my Matthew. My Matthew. Mine, from 15 years earlier. But he was short, now. And not nearly as attractive as a 19-year old as he was as a 4-year old. He didn't remember me. At all. Not even when prompted. I asked whether he went to Co-op, which was a yes, and did he remember me? No, but it wasn't all bad; he did write for the alternative newspaper (at elite university, the "alternative" paper was the conservative/libertarian paper, the FoxNews of the undergraduate publishing set).

So, perhaps, Chuckles and Megan can reunite someday.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Nothing was received in exchange for this post/review but if you want to send wine, we can talk

Oh, Dearest blog, how I have been neglecting you. Sometimes, I think I was a better blogger when I was all angsty and infertile and TTC and an unwilling stay-at-home-mom. Probably true. Happiness makes for boring blogging.

Saturday night, Mr. Long-Suffering and I split a bottle of Luigi Bosco malbec. And I rave. It was good. It was a gift, so I am not sure of its price point (although I assume around $15). It was better with food than had solo and it needed a few minutes in the glass to breathe, but other than that, I have nothing but good things to say about this wine. We finished the bottle. Two people over about 4-5 hours. Not a difficult task, really. And red wine….it’s like health food.

We did some half-arsed father-led weaning on Thursday night. It was a flaming failure. Baby wants to eat and will fuss and cry for hours and hours overnight. I have made the executive decision to feed the child overnight. I know…I am brilliant. I’ve always said my kids haven’t read the textbooks. And Chuckles decided to strip naked in the night and walk around (and then got himself re-dressed in different clothes…very odd, but he was awake not sleepwalking as he remembered and recounted the whole thing including the rationale for said fashion show in the morning). Both kids got their flu vaccines Friday and Bobo took a record-breaking nap afterward (including a location change, which doesn’t usually work for him).

Last week was Columbus Day or Italian-American Marriage Heritage Day (as I have taken to calling it since I married an Italian-American). We took the kids on commuter rail to the City and slid down the Picasso. A good time was had by some. We rode the double-decker choo choo home. Both kids fell asleep in the car on the way home.

Now, a nifty list of places I have nursed (either child):
On the commuter rail
In the Catholic Church
Backyard of my home
Front yard of my home
Bathroom of my home
In my car in various locales
Grocery store
Millennium Park
Babies R Us
The pediatrician’s office (and the urgent care & the hospital) … and they’re always so embarrassed…dude, you’re doctors
The bathroom at work
In a moving car (everyone was buckled….the joy of the rear-facing car seat and the sag)
During a concert (to be fair, the music was The ScribbleMonsters)
At a restaurant while I was eating (once with my FIL across the table from me)
Day Care
On a boat
At the swimming pool
The homes of various friends and relations (some more welcoming than others, none openly hostile thankfully)

The weaning is coming. I’m not a fan of the concept. But I am ready to be done with the pump. So, if you’ve done this successfully, let me know. Here’s my plan:
I will switch from pumping twice daily to once daily starting today. I will continue sending bottles to day care by dipping in to my freezer stash. I’m not sure what I’ll do on the weekends since my supply will have dipped. Do I just nurse normally on the weekends? Bobo is 11-months old. Then, when it gets closer to the year mark, I will just stop pumping at work. Then, uhhh, I guess what? I have no idea. I plan on continuing to nurse in the evenings and mornings as long as we’re both still game. Then, what do you do on weekends, again? Should I just….what, I have no idea. I assume when I reduce pumping or stop pumping that the supply will drop and he’ll get less. Will he still want to nurse on the weekends, in the evenings, and in the morning. Is there even enough that it counts as nourishment? A little help here.

On my last post, I got a comment (YAY, comments) from someone who wanted to send me a review copy of a book (YAY, free stuff). But I am not accepting it for two reasons (possibly more):
  • I don't have time to read a book, let along implement strategies for dealing with childish behavior.
  • I am a semi-anonymous blogger and accepting a book would require me giving out my name and an address. Some address. And I don't have one of those fancy UPS Store addresses, so no.
  • A book is not wine, it's not even food. Free food, I would probably take.

I'm not really a people-pleaser, so I don't feel bad about turning it down (actually, I am not turning it down, I'm just not doing anything with the offer except blogging about it). I'm sort of excited though because this is the first time anyone has ever offered me anything via the blog. Oh, by the way, in case it wasn't abundantly clear, I love Max Factor lipcolor and no one is giving me anything to say this. Also, food and wine and good and I pay for all of that myself (unless a real-life friend gives it to me for an actual occasion).

Friday, October 02, 2009

Procrastination is Usually My Enemy

Well, life got in the way and I didn't get around to dropping off the check and registration form for a gym class that starts tomorrow until 7:30 this morning. And they're full. Go figure. Chuckles loses out because I couldn't get Mr. Long-Suffering to commit to a gym class in the fall (when he says we should be playing outside but with torrents of rain falling, I am not sure how that's going to work). Anyway, I failed and Chuckles suffers the consequences (although honestly, these consequences were pretty minor and this failure it not one in a long string of disappointments). Lesson learned.

Maybe I'll take him to funflatables instead. Or I think it's National Fire Prevention Week so the fire house is open. Maybe we'll just go there.