Fun With Hats

The weather turned nice and I have just now realized that Bobo is of northern-European ancestry. The boy has strawberry blonde hair and turns blotchy red at the mere hint of it getting above 70 degrees in the house. And he started getting itty bitty baby beads of sweat on his nose. It's only April. I think he may spontaeously combust come July. Perhaps we can harness his power and gain our energy independence by August.

Chuckles noticed that there was no frost on the driveway and wanted to be outside in shorts and a T-shirt and mom-can-we-use-the-hose-and-get-all-wet. So, the kids are....differently suited for the seasons. Chuckles is a year-round hearty type. I think Bobo may prefer the more indoor pursuits. Time will tell.

I was cleaning out the garage (see also glorious weather) and came upon a hat box (do you remember hat boxes?) from Marshall Fields (do you remember Fields?). In the box were three high-fashion hats (one green velvet with a pheasant feather, one black with some kind of protruding protuberance, and the 3rd looked like something Barbra Streisand would have worn in a movie) from the 50s or 60s, one pair of ladies evening gloves, wrist-length, black, covered in rhinestones, and a black dress purse with change purse inside. Chuckles and I then proceeded to garden while wearing fetching hats.

Our older lady neighbor thought we were lovely, and told us a story about the last hat she bought in 1974. Mr. Long-Suffering found it tolerable and funny, and my mother-in-law thinks I am trying to turn her grandson gay. As if you can turn people gay from hats! Obviously, it's not the hats that turn boys gay...it's playing with dolls. I jest. Anyway, we looked lovely. And now I miss my grandmother less since the hats still smelled like her dusting powder after 11 years in my garage.

In other news, I am very thrifty and someone was about to throw away 3 pounds of perfectly good meat, so I took it and brought it home and cooked it up and that is why we had spaghetti with meat sauce for dinner. (I know....they were throwing away perfectly good meat!)

Bobo is turning 4 in about 10 days. Next weekend is the party. Today, I made a pinata out of a Trader Joe's paper bag with handles reinforced with duct tape. The bag is filled with fruit leather, Matchbox cars, assorted balls, whoopie cushions, stickers, and a few pieces of candy. An odd assortment to be sure. Hopefully, next week I can write that a good time was had by most if not all.

Three-Minute Blog Post

Did you know that it takes Medela microwave steam sterilizing bags 3 minutes to sterilize your pump and bottle parts? Well, it does, so I have 3 minutes for this.

Back to work and I have only cried in the office once. I have pumped at my desk 26 times already. Time sure does fly.

Time being what it is (finite and linear....time travel be damned), I don't have much time to blog these days, but I do want to fill in some gaps.

Highlight: It's not meningitis.
Lowlight: It's strep.

Chuckles is sick. He picked it up at school. Kids are sick all over the place there. He's on antibiotics and is no longer contagious, the good pediatrician doctor tells me. But in the condition he was in Saturday, I never would have sent him to school. Why do other parents do this? (and I know that some people just cannot afford to take off of work for a sick kid, but dude, your sick kid is getting my kid sick. I'm looking out for number 1.)

Well, the microwave has dung, or is it dinged, so I must go dump the parts to cool and dry, pack the pump for tomorrow, lay out clothes, fix my lunch, brush my teeth, and fall into bed so that I may be reawakened in a few hours for the all-night, all-you-can-eat buffet. Peace, out.

Five Black Bags & a Sad Ending

Back to work means the mornings are a mad-dash to get people dressed, brushed, lunches, shoes on, coats on, in the car, c'mon let's go!

Anyway, I never want to be half way to work and look in my mirror only to realize that I forgot to drop the kids at day care. Likewise, I don't want to be half-way to work and realize that I lef tthe computer with the baby and have a bag of bottles with me (I also just realized I spelled halfway three different ways in this paragraph...whatever).

So....I have this little counting ritual I do as I set off in the morning. I count my five black bags. And if I have all five when I pull out of the driveway, everything is going to be OK.

• purse (including phone, keys, wallet)
• milk bag with freezer pack to transport pumped milk home from work
• laptop bag
• bottle bag (containing 3 bottles, each with 4 to 5 ounces of hard won human milk)
• Medela Pump-In-Style Advanced with handy shoulder bag

If I can count to FIVE, I'm stayin' ALIVE.

Speaking of Alive, my grandmother is no longer living. It's not terribly sad. Were she still with us, she'd be (hmmm, carrying the one) 96. She passed away in 1994 at the age of 81. She was pretty well up until about a year before her death, which is really quite good. I miss her.

Anyway, my point is my granmother could cook. She had several things that when I eat them, I think of her. Oh, and we always got to pick our own birthday dinner and she'd fix it for us. I always picked steak and sweet potatoes (she'd make filet mignon). The smoke detector always went off when she made it, but it was always perfect. I think her broiler and smoke detector were just having a turf war. She always served a salad course before dinner and she'd always tell us what was in her dressing (oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, oregano, and "a pinch of sugar to cut the vinegar"). And for your birthday dessert, everyone chose angel food cake with Grandma frosting. And she'd tell us how she'd doctor up the store-bought cake mix to make it her own extra-special most awesome cake. And I say this part sobbing, "I cannot remember how she doctored up the cake mix so I can't make her cake and it's so good and I miss her." So, anyway, I decided I would make her cake for Easter since I was in charge of bringing dessert. I just made the angel food cake per the Duncan Hines directions. My instructions for the frosting are on a slip of paper and it says this:

1/2 cup milk

2T flour

Cook. Cool. Add:

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 pound butter

Not very descriptive is it? But I tried my best and improvised and the flavor was perfect, but the consistency was too thin, so I don't know what I am supposed to do...more butter, more flour, more sugar, less milk, cool it more, maybe cake flour, or granulated sugar instead of the powdered I used? No idea. And my cake was ugly. My grandmother's cakes were always attractive and even with a flat top and I have no idea how she did it. Angel food cake doesn't have a flat top so you can't set it upside-down and you can't frost it right-side-up, and I guess maybe she took a knife and evened it out, but I just don't know.

Anyone have any ideas? I'm open to trying to contact the dead if that's what it takes. Also, grandma always served the milk with dinner from a Blue Delft pitcher with a cow on it. She did not heft the plastic gallon up on the table. Grandma was a class act all the way. And I wish I had that pitcher.

The End of an Era

Things here have been hectic with my return to work. But, things are good.

Highlight: Both kids are going to bed between 7:30 and 8:00
Lowlight: Both kids need bedtime rituals at the same time (we had one-at-a-time before).

Highlight: Bobo is taking bottles and napping at day care.
Lowlight: Chuckles is not napping and is a raging terror by 6:30. A cute terror, but a terror.

Highlight: Bobo is learning all about other babies and sharing.
Lowlight: One of the other babies shared her cough with Bobo (he seems fine except for a hack...must tell him to quit smoking....Mr. Long-Suffering calls it the "kennel cough").

Highlight: Bobo rolled over tummy-to-back twice yesterday.
Lowlight: We only got 6,512 photos of it. Would have preferred 7,000 photos.

Highlight: Chuckles had an unprompted, spontaneous outburst of love for us. "I love you, Mommy and Daddy...and Bobo and Lisa too."
Lowlight: Bobo had an unprompted, spontaneous outburst of poop for us that caused emergency laundry.

So, all-in-all, a good time. Hectic but good. Dinner has turned into something of a circus, but we'll probably hit our stride in a week or two. Hope you're all doing well.

He Took The Bottle

and I feel like a giant weight has been lifted off of my chest!

The Secret to My Success: Denial

I go back in 10 days and Bobo doesn't take a bottle, so if you want to see stressed, see me when I think about that (often at 3 am). Bobo is going to "Baby Bottle Boot Camp" at the day care on Wednesday. I have scheduled a massage during that time so that I DO NOT THINK ABOUT IT.

My biggest fear is that Bobo will be like Chuckles. I have to keep reminding myself that they are different kids and not compare them blah blah blah, but ugh. Chuckles did a little thing called "reverse cycling" where he slept a lot during the day while I was at work and didn't eat much and then was up all night to eat when he had access to the All-You-Can-Eat smorgasbord that is me. It was wrenching and exhausting and I swear to you, I will wean if Bobo does this just to spite him. Or something. It was greuling. I'm still tired from that. That is the reason my kids at 3-1/2 years apart and not 2 years apart as I had originally planned. In fact, I was thisclose to leaving Chuckles an only child.

Two more things: A big "Eff You" to the good folks who write our tax code. Thanks for nothing. We owe $4 and that is with withholding of Married-Zero for Mr. Long-Suffering and Me. We have 4 dependents so that seems odd to me. At least we didn't owe AMT. Good thing we had Bobo last year or we would have owed thousands.

I was doing some Spring cleaning in the flower beds and took a sharp stick to the eye. It hurts. I abraded my schlera and well, I have excruciating eye pain. Which is always a good time. The hardest part was when I pulled the stick out of my eye where it was stuck and dangling. Actually, the best part was when I told CHuckles to go get Daddy and he did. Very proud of my big big boy.

Oh, one more thing, we went to Dixie Kitchen and Bait Shop, which is one of Barack Obama's favorite restaurants in Chicagoland. Food gets a 9. But the restaurant was so uncomfortably warm we had to leave. I mean like 85 or 90 degrees. Chuckles took his sweatshirt off, I was sweating, Bobo turned beet red and fussed but didn't want me to hold him because I was warm. He was hungry so I fed him but I couldn't use my "Hooter Hider" because of the aforementioned heat. Bobo would have burst into flames. At least I was in Illinois where they have Right to Breastfeed in Public Laws. Anyway, good food, bad ambiance.

Gah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I try not to be all judgey and everything, but here I'm going to judge....

If you are someone who, for a living, shoots things into little tiny babies, you had better make sure you know what you're doing. Damn sure.

Yesterday was Bobo's 4- month ped appointment. He was administered 3 shots, which covered 8 diseases. Except! One of the shots was wrong! Wrong! Wrong! As in, he was given a vaccine not approved for use in the US in children under 12 months, and approved in Italy for 5 months and up. So, no country in the world approves the use of this vaccine on a 4-month old. And my Bobo got it. Bobo, who has had nothing in his body except breastmilk and vitamins (plus a few correct shots). The very same Bobo who did not receive the Hep B vaccine in the hospital because they would not let me be present for it (to make sure it was done correctly).

I feel so guilty because I was there and I asked about a million questions to make sure they were all right. And then I was given a print out of the shot record and I was reviewing it and saw that he received the Hep A vaccine instead of the Hep B. THe doctor called today and apologized. Argh! Now what do I do? I love our pediatrician but I have been completely underwhelmed by his office staff (it's not actually his staff as it's a big corporate clinic place so I don't think he gets to pick people). Do I change pediatricians? Do I just step up my diligence (which is already set to Freak Out Code Red Alert)? Do I sue? What do I do? Tell me, dear internets...

Global Economic Collapse

First off, Bobo was 17 lbs 14 ounces. The ped thinks he's probably a few ounces shy of 18 lbs because of his bout of influenza. It put his growth on hold for a day or two. No big deal. Kid is still huge. 26". Which is odd since he was 26-1/2" two weeks ago, but measuring is hard. And I'll go with it since our baby bucket car seat only goes to 26". And I want him in the bucket.

On to the economy.... The following could be full of unpopular opinions, so I'll start by reminding everyone that I am a libertarian and pretty much think everyone should take care of themselves. That out of the way, here I go spewing my manifesto or something.

AIG Bonuses - These were contractually mandated by the pay structure. If the government didn't want them paid out, they should have put stipulations on the money before they gave it to AIG (or better still, not given AIG one red cent and let the company go bankrupt which would void all contracts and everything could be re-negotiated. This reminds me of a mom who gave her daughter a check to spend on her wedding. It was not enough to cover even half of it and she gave it to her daughter freely and without condition. And THEN, later, started telling her daughter what kind of wedding she had to have since the daughter was spending the mother's money. Ugh! Pay the bills directly, or put conditions on the money upfront. Barney Frank, (D-MA-4th Dist) I am looking at you Mr. Master Grandstander.

On Auto Execs taking private planes to DC to ask for money - OK, I understand that it looks bad. Taking a pay cut for yourself and promising to brown bag it to work every day would probably make some people feel better. But, let's talk about private jets. Let's say these guys make $1,000,000/year. Assume a 75-hour work week. They make $256 per hour. Standing in line at the Northwest Airlines counter, going through security, etc, takes time. And time is money. Plus, they had more than one guy flying to DC for this, so it might just be a little bit economical if the CEO and 2 VPs need to go to DC. Also, many of their employment contracts stipulate private plane travel (of course, they could waive that). And they don't make their own travel arrangements. Their secretaries contact the Corporate Travel Department who handles it. Their time is money and they don't spend their money on the Southwest Airlines website trying to figure out whether flying into BWI and renting a car to DC is the most cost-effective travel route.
Full Disclosure: Many years ago, when I was but a fresh-faced lass right out of college, I lobbied in DC. And I took a private jet. I'd leave for work at 7:30, fly to DC in my smart pants suit, face a full day of lobbying, lobbying, lobbying, fly home, and be back in time to have dinner for my husband on the table by 5 pm. A chauffer-driven car would be waiting for me at the private plane terminal. It would whisk me away to the lawyer or the Deparment of Commerce or wherever. Then I would head to "The Club" for lunch and back to wherever for an afternoon of stiflingly hot conference rooms. Once I saw Al Gore in the private jet terminal (he was in his fat, beard phase after his 2000 loss). I'd like to state that this was THE BEST JOB EVER. It was super hard and sometimes felt like beaurocratic drudgery but the perks were awesome. And the bathrooms were so clean. And they had hand lotion and mouth wash and free tampons because who wants to carry a tampon in her briefcase only to have it tumble out in front of the US Trade Representative. My point is that I was not making $200/hour and even I got to fly in a private jet.

On helping people who got behind on their mortgages: I'm sympathetic to their plight, but I feel as if they've gotten themselves into the situation and need to just "man up" and get out of it. Now, certainly, some people have circumstances, but other people borrowed more than they reasonably could afford. They lied (or had mortgage brokers lie on their behalf), they borrowed too much, they took risks (option ARM with interest only for first 5 years?), they assumed property values would climb forever (what goes up must come down). I feel like they should have to bear the brunt of the risks they took. The reason it could have paid off big is because the downside is bad. If there is no downside to things, how will people learn not to take risks? I am risk averse by nature. We have a small mortgage. We save money. We live on one income. We live on less than one income. We work for companies that provide benefits. I will never be rich because I don't take risks, but I'm not losing my house due to unpaid medical bills, etc. I do not want to pay for the mistakes of others. I just don't. If they fail and flail, then let that be a lesson to them.

On nationalized health care: I'm against it. I'm actually sort of against today's traditional insurance. I'd prefer high-deductible catstrophic plans that would force people to shop around for the best price on primary and preventive health care.

On government education: I'm against it, but I moved to a good school district (even before I was married and before I had kids because I figured people who pay a premium to live in a good school district are people I would like to have as neighbors and homes in good school districts are easier to sell). If I could get my school district tax dollars back and use them to pick a school for my kids I would, but we will muddle through in our school district with strict parental oversight.

And that's my Libertarian Manifesto. Oh, and my secret for financial success: invest countercyclicly (hmmm, is that spelled correctly?).

St. Patrick's Day

So, it's the 17th of March. And in honor of the beautiful weather we had today, I took the kids to a new National Park near my house. They put in a park at the National Lakeshore, so you could say I took the kids to the beach. In March. And all our noses and cheeks are a little pink now (was quite breezy so not sure whether sun or wind but must put sunscreen back in the diaper bag).

Am going back to work in 2 weeks. Having a major freak-out as Bobo does not take a bottle. In fact, he thinks a bottle is an affront to his dignity or possibly a modified form of waterboarding torture. Whatevs. Am sending him to day care for 4 hours next week for Baby Bottle Boot Camp. They tell me to bring in some milk and one of every kind of bottle I have and at the end of the 4 hours, they will tell me which kind of bottle to send on his first day. Ok, then. And I have a massage scheduled for me during his Boot Camp so that I will NOT be thinking of my poor baby being subjected to an artificial nipple against his will. (Do you think they know that I have, like, 10 kinds of bottles plus two soft-spout sippy cups I have tried?)

Bobo is 4-months old. His ped visit is tomorrow. I am guessing 27", 18 lbs, and 4 shots. We'll see.

I have a bunch of stuff to say about global economic collapse (and an anecdote about when I used to be important and have interesting non-child things to say), but it's after 9 pm and the house is eerily quiet. I best get to bed because the long nights usually start like this.

St. Patrick

St. Patrick

As Good As The News Could Be

99.7

Bobo's temperature at 10 am yesterday after 13 hours with no Tylenol. He was chatty and smiley and had slept through the night (I was up checking his breathing repeatedly, but he slept fine). The pediatrician was very relieved (he confessed that after we left, he kept second-guessing himself and thought we should be in the hospital).

Last night, however, Bobo was up 4 times. Which was fine. No complaints. I'm sure I slept better in my own bed than I ever would on a chair in the hospital. He has no fever, so I have no idea what was up with that. I gave a dose of Tylenol before bed just in case he was achey like I would be with the flu. Maybe it's the 4-month sleep regression. Which would be un-fun, but decidedly better than flu stuff.

And the really really super good news: Bobo's weight was unchanged from Tuesday to Wednesday. 17 lbs, 4 ounces both days. One of my giant fears in life is dehydration so I was super duper glad that we were in the clear on that one.

Speaking of dehydration, we contacted an attorney about the salmonella Chuckles contracted after eating the hummus at the Taste of Chicago (which resulted in severe life-threatening blood poisoning and dehydration). We filed suit. Resolution expected by 2013 or so. Our courts at their speedy best.

I Hate It When This Happens

104.3

Answer: Bobo's temperature at the pediatrician today. I called shortly after 7 this morning. Got a 12:15 appointment (they didn't start until noon). And things got progressively worse until we got there. Bobo was given the maximum tylenol dosage based on his 7.4 kg weight (95th percentile!). His nasal swab is positive for influenza. Mr. Long-Suffering, Chuckles, and I were all vaccinated, so who is the SOB who infected my tiny little baby? All sad and lethargic and weepy and sleepy. We are expected back in the pediatrician's office every day until he is better (unless of course they decide to hospitalize him...which was a decidedly real possibility today). If he does not show improvement, they are going to start prodding him, drawing blood, and doing X-rays (to check for secondary pneumonia). The long night of comfort and nursing is ahead of me. Wish me luck and coffee. Oh, and I am starting to feel a little hot myself.

The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword

But...
Actions Speak Louder Than Words.
Discuss

A smart man learns from his mistakes. A wise man learns from the mistakes of others.
I hope my sons will be wise.

Juile (who I think is Julie with a typo...it's OK, have you seen my TEH?) writes: "...I've heard that some insurance companies charge you slightly higher rates if you drive a red car....of course that could be another line my mother fed me (along with cigarettes are the gateway drug to heroin, and convertables make you old before your time)...."

Jamington tells me that some friend of hers had a mom who told her daughter that she had asthma and was deathly allergic to cigarette smoke. So, if she smoked, she'd die and if she hung around smokers, she'd wind up in the emergency room. Okeed Dokee then. I do not think the friend wound up smoking. I should think not.

What lies did your parents tell you that you've since found out are not true?

• My mother was not so much into the imparting of life lessons, but if she had been, I'd be laughing now at the thought that having sex once could get you pregnant! Ha ha ha ha ha. Well, actually, I suppose I technically got pregnant from having sex once (but you know after weeks of drugs, tests, monitoring, etc).
• Flipping the lights on and off really fast does not, apparently, cause the house to catch fire. I recently heard myself chastise Chuckles with that and my husband just looked at me like I was nuts. "What? That doesn't cause a fire?"
• You are allowed to eat more than one banana a day. I have no idea why my mother told me there was a limit. I'm guessing they were expensive.

Chuckles collected his Disney Pixar Cars 1:55 die-cast Red the Fire Engine. He had dry morning diapers for another 7 days. He has now slept in underpants 2 nights in a row...still dry. Very proud. But now I need your advice. Are you supposed to wear underpants to bed if you are wearing pajamas? I only wear undies with my jammies when I need some hygiene products. The rest of the time I am commando. Something to do with letting the air get at you to prevent yeast infections (maybe this is one of those lies I was fed as a child?). So, what do you do, what do you do with your kids?

I walked in and said, "With my trade-in, I need to walk out the door paying X, however you need to get to it." The first dealer said he could do no better than X plus $747. I said I could not do that, and I walked out. Mr. Long-Suffering was heart-broken and I pretty much had to drag him out of there. He really wanted that car. I was stoic. I don't need a new car. I said, "Let's just go to some other dealer, tell them we will buy it right now today if they sell it for X.". He thought I was batty (but he often thinks that, so it's not like it's news). They came back with X plus $1500. I said, "That's a shame, because I would've bought it and would like to have it." They said, write the number here and initial it and I will take it to my boss. I did, and they took it. I bought the car. I got Cyber Grey. I pick it up tomorrow. I think I got an awesome price.

I bought the car from a dealer in an "Enterprise Zone" which is a nice way of saying economically blighted. There are certain considerations granted to businesses in the enterprise zone so their ongoing costs are lower (lower taxes and even some subsidies to retain/attract businesses). Perhaps this is why they were able to meet my price and the good neighborhood dealer just a mile from my house couldn't (I go to Story Time at the library with the dealer who did not sell me my car).

Huzzah

Chuckles earned his Dinoco Helicopter today.

He had his seventh consecutive dry diaper this morning. He went to bed at 6:35 last night (husband was working late and I had enough and he was tired...no struggle either...Bobo bouncing in the Bjorn while I was reading stories, etc), got up just after 10 pm to go potty, and slept until after 6 this morning. Woo Hoo. Pride, swoon.

My life these days is quite boring (even to me). Would you like me to tell you what I watch on TV (The Price is Right) or the state of Bobo's diapers (Size 3, soiled daily)? I could tell you about the Abercrombie sweater I found at Goodwill for my brand-obsessed 14-year old sister. I also found a Tommy Hilfiger sweater and West Seal sweater along with three Anxiety layered tees. I'm going to tell her I got them on ebay because somehow, I think that will be better in her social set.

And I am thisclose to buying a new car, but I think I need to wait a bit. We're getting the Chevy Traverse. I've read reviews, checked Consumer Reports, checked US News, driven it, and it just comes out better than the Honda Pilot (I can't believe it either). We're debating the trim level and the color. I'm leaning toward LS in Cyber Grey, but maybe LT1 in Dark Cherry. Decisions decisions. And I want to make sure I get a good price and they really aren't doing that much on this vehicle right now. It's the only thing bringing people into the showrooms. It was really quite funny being at the dealer. Ten groups of people or so and 8 of them looking at the Traverse.

A Whole Bunch of Stuff all rolled into one post

1. I love Medela. I just called their customer service and they did some troubleshooting on my pump and are sending me a new cover for the pump as mine is hosed. I have a 2004 model pump, and they are still sending it. Woo Hoo. ANd they told me to try using it with the battery pack to see whether I severed a wire in my power cord by rolling up the cord around the transformer. Word to the Wise: Do not coil the wire around the transformer for easy storage.
2. Car Shopping is fun and not fun at the same time. I find the whole negotiation process terribly stressful and frustrating. Next time I go in, I will just say, I need to get to this price through rebates and a trade in or I just can't do it. Hopefully, that will work. We'll see.
3. I love the letter S. I never read that Happiest Baby book, but I hear the gist is that stuff that starts with S can calm your kid. Right now, Bobo is in his crib sleeping because I swaddled him, rolled him to his side, stuck a pacifier in his mouth so he could suck, and then stood while stepping around and jostling him and swaying until he fell asleep. I hope he stays that way too because he is a crackenheimer right now.
4. Chuckles's BFF is back at his school and they were like long-lost lovers reunited this morning running through a field of blocks toward each other with arms wide open.
5. I have had a cold and I think (even though I haven't taken anything for it) that my milk is less-plentiful because my body is using energy to heal me. Bobo is none-too-happy about this turn of events and let me know about that all night long. Whee. I try not to take his sleeping for advantage after the no-sleeper I had in Chuckles, but I guess I have come to expect a certain level of sleep these days.
6. Chuckles has learned the phrase "Mommy Time" as in, "I need my mommy time." He usually utters these words just as I have sat down to feed Bobo so that's super guilt-inducing.
7. My mother-in-law thinks I am slowing freezing the kids to death. SHe did some babysitting on Monday (my birthday) so we could car shop sans enfants and when I came back the heat was set at 70 (about 5 degrees warmer than we keep it) and Bobo was in a fleecey outfit and a blanket. Poor kid was probably sweating.

Octuple Mania

Ugh!

Julie looked into my brain and wrote my thoughts down.

Car Shopping

Global economic collapse makes me want to buy a new car. Well, that and a rear-facing car seat that makes it uncomfortable for anyone (me) to sit in the passenger seat of both of our cars.

Our vehicles are 7.5 and nearly 1o years old. We currently have a mid-size family sedan (Honda Accord) and a crew cab pick up truck (mine!).

We aren't sure which vehicle we would be replacing (if any) or maybe both.

There are two tactics we're considering. One is buying two vehicles that fit all of us. Maybe a new Accord (the new version is larger) and a Chevy Traverse, GMC Acadia, or a Honda Pilot.

The other tactic is buying me something small, cheap, safe, and with good gas mileage (maybe a Versa or a Matrix). My husband would not be allowed in this vehicle (he's a big guy and trying to find something comfortable for him is a challenge in and of itself). I would put the rear-facing car seat behind the passenger seat and just bring that seat all the way forward and leave it there. I still want 4 doors though because, really. Then, for our second vehicle, we would get something like a Pilot or Acadia (something that can haul and tow as well as hold all of us at the same time, comfortably).

Any opinions?

If that's "green", I'll eat Sir Topham Hatt's Hat

The cleaning lady came on Thursday. She was testing out a new line of "green" products that are infused with essential oils. The floor cleaner really did smell nice, but it gave me a head ache. See, she was spraying it on the floor in the nursery and the explosive gas alarm starting going off (don't ask why the explosive gas alarm is in Bobo's room). So, we moved the alarm to fresh air (the front porch) and went about our day frantically calling Mr. Long-Suffering to find out if I had irreparable lung damage. Then, just for fun, we recreated the conditions in CHuckles's room and the alarm went off again. So, what's in this "green" product? The ingredient list was not on the bottle but there's some kind of solvent or something.

An Unfortunate Reprieve

The diaper was wet this morning.