Koomala

Camping with the Kids

2011-05-25T19:00:00.000-07:00

I love my daughter. She is this fascinating little creature who, at 2 ½ is far more opinionated than I. Last week we went on vacation for a week tent camping in Moab, UT. It was seriously fantastic and wasn’t even really roughing it, because though we had a tent, my parents had a trailer, which Gwen slept in. Every evening the kids received baths thanks to my dad’s portable 110 gallon water-tank and every day we ate amazing quantities of food and did some really fun activities.

Gwen however, was only marginally pleased with her accommodations. She spent the latter half of the week complaining about where she slept, stating loudly that she’d like to go home now, say she didn’t like *insert activity here*, that her toenail paint was chipping, that her hair was in her eyes, she’d like her feet rubbed, she had an owie, that it was raining….the list goes on.

Coming from such a tiny person, Greg and I couldn’t help but be a bit amused as we strongly encouraged her to buck up and enjoy the time. However, I think this is probably only the beginning. *Ominous thunder roll* I also think it’s probably a good thing we started this now, rather than in another year.

When we were packing up camp, Gwen quickly changed her attitude and became our biggest cheerleader, displaying an impressive show of concentration as she sang the ‘Keep Trying’ song from Yo Gabba Gabba. Greg packed the tent and loaded the car to the vocal abilities of Gwen, singing:

“Keep trying! Keep Trying!

Don’t give up, never give up!

Keep trying! Keep trying!

Don’t give up, never give up!

Don’t stop, don’t give up, don’t stop, don’t give up!”

Repeat a few hundred times and you get the general idea.

Greg took it in stride, as did I, and Gwen proved to be very helpful gathering smaller items around camp and chucking them into the car as fast as she could.

Greg drove through the night to get us home, so we spent Saturday mostly relaxing and Sunday I tried to sleep in. Gwen had climbed into bed with me around 6am, and miraculously slept until 8. We both woke up and Gwen asked if I could rub her feet. I said sure, and grabbed a chubby foot to massage. She sat in silence for a second then told me to stop. She stretched her foot out in front of her, wiggled her toes, and studied them for 30 seconds.

She then sighed deeply and said, “You should repaint my toes, the sand took away my pretty polish”.

The more I parent, the more I tend to side with nature rather than nurture.

Another Post

2011-04-04T14:54:00.001-07:00

Little time for excuses. I must post when I can. I can say that when school is out the postings will be much quicker than this – but this is OK too.

The kids were both sick this weekend. Garrison has had RSV and Gwen had the stomach flu. I’d been home with Garrison for 4 days, only to get the call on Friday that Gwen was throwing up as I was packing Greg to fly out of town for a weekend with his brother. On my insistence, Greg left in spite of the kids being sick, and I was left at home with them. 6 solid days of very sick children.

I am amazed at how terrible and wonderful intensive times with my children can be. Their demands and whines stretch me to points where I am sure I must snap…and then I don’t … and I’m amazed.

Their demands and whines and exhausted little bodies wanting nothing more than comfort also create some of the best moments ever; as they curl up and sleep on or around me and I sit, not daring to move and wake them, listening to them breathe, stroking their heads, and doing absolutely nothing but perform admirably as a human pillow for a few hours.

It is, in every sense, the best and worst of times.

This past week, as I ceaselessly cleaned noses and gave countless baths and rubbed Vicks on chests and feet and cleaned up vomit and diapers and sanitized and washed sheets was exhausting. It is only when they were newborns that I have been more tired.

But something was different. In all the discomfort there was growth too. Painful, excruciating growth. Gwen and I had conversations, she was articulate as she asked me to make her feel better. Garrison, rather than crawling all over the place begging to be put down, nestled happily in my arms and rested, fluffy head against my cheek.

And the bond of motherhood, which is all too often forged in fire, was strengthened. I am a harbor for my children, a place of safety, rest, and peace. A place where if they are not feeling well they can come to for some comfort. It is a hard-earned badge and when your children reach an age where they recognize it not just instinctually, but in a cognizant manner…. that is highly rewarding.

And so I return to daily life out of the forge and fires different.
Stronger.
Gentler.

A little self-confidence….

2011-02-01T14:22:00.000-08:00

Not that I really struggle with that issue on a daily basis. At least not on the things most people (or perhaps only women?) do. I don’t think I’m fat, ugly, too tall or too short. Sometimes I wish my stomach was flatter than it is, but really, I am a confident person in my looks. Same with my attitude. I feel I make friends pretty easily and even though I don’t invest the time to have a ton of friends around me at all times…that’s been more a personal choice than a character flaw (though the two are not necessarily mutually exclusive). Self-confidence issues need not apply at my door. Humility is more difficult…

However, that is only for regular, day-to-day issues. Sometimes, I do doubt the validity of my opinion and nearly always believe that someone else probably has a better handle on the situation than me. I’m an excellent bluffer, but if I don’t know the ins and outs of something, I have a real hard time owning it and making in mine in a discussion. Thus, we have meandered over to math.

I am terrible at math. I try to learn, and study and fail over and over and over again. One summer, I took only a math class, I devoted 2-3 hours a night to homework, turned everything in, took notes, paid attention, stayed after class and worked with a tutor. I thought perhaps I just wasn’t applying myself previously. I needed this class to graduate with my Geographic Information Systems certificate. I had all the other classes but this one towards the requirement so I WORKED. I couldn’t fail, the stakes were too high!

And I failed.

No certificate for me. I effectively attended college an entire extra semester to have it mean precisely nothing. It’s a rare occasion in life where my full energy devoted towards a project doesn’t get me what I want, but this was such a case.

So you can imagine how nervous I was to learn that for my MBA, I needed not one, but two statistics classes.

You can also understand my procrastination of such subjects to the very end.

You can even probably empathize when I tell you I had a full-scale panic attack when I realized the professor who was teaching my statistics THIS semester was the same one who nearly killed me with homework in my macroeconomics class LAST semester.

In a word, I have felt doomed for a while thinking about Spring and Summer 2011.

But over the past 2 weeks something curious has happened. I, falling upon the homework like a Roman soldier who has been disgraced falls upon his sword, have worked with an air of futility. Each problem I figured out was happenstance, each answer correct was luck.

Until it began to be a bit of a pattern.

I was doing math. Statistics really, which make a surprising amount of sense.

Not only that, but I was getting the vast majority of answers correct!

My confidence started blooming. Last night, as I finished up another 10 problems I actually somewhat enjoyed the work. And THEN imagine my surprise when I discovered I was supposed to be using some software which would do most of the hard work for me!!!

Heavens. It’s just too good to be true.

I really think it’s due to the nature of statistics. I’m not having to deal with theories or many equations, I am just applying common sense to a lot of data. But I also wouldn’t chalk it all up to that. Somewhere along the way I actually think I’ve become a little more analytical, have a tendency to see problems in different ways than I used to and have learned not to just throw down the pencil the instant a few numbers cross my page.

And that, as they say, is good news indeed.

Eat your Tacos

2011-01-21T18:38:00.000-08:00

Over Christmas vacation, our whole family went to a vacation house my grandparents co-own in Grand Lake, Colorado. It was fantastic and we stayed there for a full week. One night, we had tacos. That same night, Gwen was on a drama-bender. She didn't want to sit, eat, be happy, or really, just exist. So she sat in her chair and gazed mournfully at the taco sitting in front of her.

"I'm sad mom...sad. Mom? I'm sad. Saaaaaaaaad. Sad. I'm SOOOOO sad, Mommy!?"

"I'm sorry your sad honey, maybe if you ate your taco, you wouldn't be so sad" I replied.

"Nooo...." she said definitively "I don't want to eat my taco."

"Why?" I asked, only somewhat interested in the reply...mostly because it was predictable.

"Because I'm SAD!" Gwen replied, helpfully.

Please let me state here that I DID ask her why she was sad, and that was answered with a pensive 'Because....'. There was also no real reason for the child to be sad. Surrounded by parents and grandparent and great-grandparents and aunts and uncles...it had been a fairly fantastic day.

And so that sad talk continued. Gwen declared to all listening how sad she was.

Greg and my dad saw this as an opportunity to goad her a bit and started commenting on how sad THEY were as well.

"I'm sad I have to eat tacos"

"I'm sad it's not Christmas anymore"

"I'm sad we don't have salad"

"I'M sad mommy isn't happier" (Greg added this helpful jab watching my mood considerably darken with all the sad comments as Gwen's taco languished on her plate.)

I'd had enough.

"GWEN! We are ALL sad. Eat your TACO!!!"

Silence fell over the table as my entire family looked up at my outburst. Gwen bowed her head and with all the panache of a greek tragedy put her food in her mouth and sadly chewed away.

Then she smiled. It was like the sun came out from behind dark clouds and the room considerably brightened.

"WOW mom!!! This is GOOOOD!!! Great job!!!"

I love Gwen, she is a turbulent and unpredictable as the Bearing Sea. And that night, she didn't starve to death on a hunger strike declaring her sadness with...whatever.

Mission accomplished.

Though I'm losing YEARS doing this job.

Years.

And we're back...

2011-01-18T21:12:00.000-08:00

To anyone who may be still reading this blog, I sincerely apologize for my lapse in writing. Many things have happened, and really, it’s not worth writing much about. The summary is that life changes quickly and right when you think things are calming down they often don’t. Sometimes, the best anyone can do is ratchet up performance to a sustainable level, hunker down, and continue on.

And that is just what we’re doing here at the Hafemann house!

So onward.

Gwen has recently had nightmares about ducks. I can’t help but feel vaguely (read: directly) responsible because I believe I caused that phobia. I can only hope it’s short-lived.

Up until about 3 days ago, Gwen loved ducks. She pointed at them, chattered about them, yelled out the window to them, etc…as she groups geese and ducks under the same label, there is just no lack of ducks to be seen in our area.

The other day I was just trying to have a conversation with Greg in the van. The topic seemed important at the time. Between Garrison growling spasmodically like a dinosaur with throat cancer and Gwen yammering loudly and endlessly about all the ducks (flocks of Canadian geese were everywhere) we were being interrupted every .07 seconds. Hanging onto a train of thought was impossible.

“Gwen! Stop! We are not going to see the ducks’ I finally said somewhat exasperated.

“Yes you wiiilllll…..I want to pet the ducks!” Gwen said determinedly.
“No honey, we can’t”

“Why?” she inevitably asked

“Because ducks don't like to be pet. If you pet the ducks they’ll bite you.” I replied succinctly.

Silence from the backseat. Greg and I went on to our conversation.

That night as we were sleeping, early in the morning. Gwen cried out in her sleep. A loud, staccato yell. I went in to check on her and found her blearily stumbling around her room. Picking her up, I started walking her back to bed when she balked.

“No mommy!” She wailed. ‘I don’t want to fight the ducks anymooooree!!!!” She cried.

And I felt very, very bad. Up until my comment about ducks biting her, Gwen hadn’t had a bad dream about ducks. Now she was. Direct correlation? I think so.

We’re currently in duck therapy. I am extolling the many virtues of ducks while Gwen listens, unconvinced. She has an irrational fear of band aids which links in with the importance of never being bitten by much of anything. So far, ducks are not having a day back in court with her. We’ll see how the rest of the week goes.

I’m constantly amazed at how many things I screw up as a parent. How easy it is to say stupid things like that and then pay for them in lack of sleep and general new-found fear of ducks for many nights afterward. Like everything else, you do your best and move on. We’ll see how the duck thing goes, in the meantime, I’m prepared for a few more nights ‘fighting ducks’ with Gwen in her bedroom as my penance.

Checking in

2011-01-11T07:37:00.000-08:00

For New Years I made two resolutions. One was to blog more and the other was to relax a bit on life, and not be so incredibly driven that I swamp myself in activities.

Interestingly, in the first two weeks of January I’ve had to shelf one resolution temporarily while meeting the other. Both kids were sick the first week of January, and my youngest had some problems with the aftermath of the flu. Caring for him recently has been a somewhat worrisome, sleepless ordeal over the past 5 days which has cumulated into ‘watching him closely’ and carefully giving him little amounts of formula until his system reboots.

Really, I’d rather do much more. Buy medicine, take him on walks, give specialized massages until his stomach works again, research all the right herbs, design a concoction and give it to him until he feels better.

He’s too young for much of any of that though, so I sit and wait. Listen to him cry, get thrown up on, change his sheets, wish I was able to change more diapers (he’s dehydrated) and wait.

So if you are a reader of this blog, unfortunately you must wait too. I have stories to tell and pictures to post, but everything is on hold until my little boy improves.

So greetings to all those out there in the blogosphere, I’ll talk to you soon.

~Christa

For your reading pleasure....

2010-11-18T20:22:00.000-08:00

I finally took the time to combine my other two blogs into this one. George Costanza may feel that this is a classic case of world's colliding...but at this stage of my life all rivers are now one. So, should you feel curious of what my life was like before children, back when I thought I knew everything and had ample time to ponder the universe....it's all at your fingertips now.

Want to know how young we were?

Yep. About that young.

Things that make me feel like a domestic goddess

2010-11-17T06:00:00.000-08:00

Yet another installment in things that make my life easier and/or beautiful.

I’m not a big one to tout products, but you guys have to check out Shutterfly for your cards this year. I love my photoshop, and when I had time (which was about 2 years ago) I would go to all sorts of trouble to create elaborate designs. I no longer have time and you probably don’t either, but I'm not always a fan of the typical 4x8 box store cards. I do them occasionally but I like Christmas cards to be different. Mostly because I have two of the cutest kids ever created in the universe.

This year, I was checking out Bakerella and saw her cards and just about passed out. They were perfect! They were well-designed! They LOOKED like the pictures belonged! They were from Shutterfly!

These kinds of designs are the type of things that just make my heart sing. Check them out here: Shutterfly Christmas Cards

Needless to say I created my own and it turned out great. Want a hint of what may be on it?

Ok, here:

He's adorable and all mine. That kissable little fellow.

If you want to be on my Christmas Card mailing list send me an email with your name and address!

As of this writing, their cards are 20% off. Check them out and order them early. As an aside, these guys are also the best for photobooks. You want a good holiday gift idea? Do gift cards for these or better yet create a few and give them away.

The dead bird

2010-11-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

This weekend, we were decorating for Christmas. Greg and I both enjoy getting the decorating done early and REALLY embracing the holiday season. November and December are my two most favorite months ever. Really all of fall is my favorite because I love decorating and baking and baking and eating. It’s great.

My brother, John, was in town and helping Greg decorate the outside front tree with lights. I was in with Garrison ,and could hear Gwen trying to get their attention. Guys. They are forever ignoring the talking us gals do. Then I hear John; “Oh my God, that’s a dead bird. Gwen has a dead bird” And Greg says much the same thing. There’s a big of chaotic rambling and Gwen comes into the house, carried by Greg, for some intense hand-washing.

Meanwhile, my brother John disposed of the bird. End of story, right? Never with Gwen. She went right back outside and started asking incessantly about her bird. Where was it? It was hurt! Where was her bird! John kept telling her the bird got better and flew off, but Gwen didn’t accept that explanation. She was insistent that she wanted to see her bird. I decided to intervene.

“Gwen baby, come here.”

She came over and I turned her to me and held her shoulders gently.

“Sometimes, things and people get hurt. And they don’t get better. Sometimes they die from being hurt so bad. That’s what happened to your bird, baby. It was hurt, and it was hurt so bad that it died instead of getting better.”

Gwen listened intently and nodded her head. She paused for a second and looked up at the sky, then back at me.

“Ok, but I want to go say goodbye to my bird”.

It was a reasonable request. So John pointed me at the trashcan, I picked up Gwen, and off we went. I lifted the lid and sure enough, there at the bottom of the can lay the stiff and rather sad little bird. Gwen looked at it solemnly, and then said “Bye bird, I’ll miss you”. I shut the lid and we walked away.

To be honest, I was a little teary from the moment. We all know people who we wish were still in our lives, and I have a few that I wish were around to see my kids. My brother was a little misty too. Having returned from Afghanistan for the second time he is all too aware how sometimes things get hurt so badly that they don’t get better.

I didn’t think I’d have to talk about death to my two year old. I thought that was a conversation for far in the future maybe when a beloved family pet dies. I thought that maybe I’d have something very poignant to say about death, something comforting. However, when the moment came unexpectedly (as they all too often do with kids), there was nothing to say but the truth.

Which Gwen accepted.

And once more, she surprised and impressed the heck out of me all at once. I'm one lucky mom.

Parenting, or something like it

2010-10-19T06:00:00.000-07:00

“If you don’t stop it right now, you’re going into time out for two hours. Do you hear me? TWO HOURS!”

I was in GAP trying on some pants and the cacophony of crying and screaming had gone on for nearly 20 minutes. The Exasperated Mom was in her early 30’s, the child wasn’t even two and for some reason would just not stop crying. The screaming was getting to everyone; even me, who felt slightly cheated because I went shopping by myself to get away from screaming children, not be surrounded by other ones.

“Two hours is a long time, Madison. A very, very LOOOONG time.”

As she uttered those words a huge grin spread across my face. Because if you’ve been a mom for more than 3 days, you’ve hit that wall. That wall where rational thought is completely overwhelmed by the intense desire to get your kid to just shut up. Clearly, this kid was out of control. Also, she had no idea what two hours meant. Also fairly easy to spot was the fact that Exasperated Mom had no intention of following through on that threat because it was pretty obvious follow-through was most likely the larger general problem.

“I need you to stop NOW. NOW! Two Hours. You want candy? I’ll give you candy but you need to stop crying”

Still, I find myself understanding of people in these situations because I’ve been there too. I have said ridiculous things in the irrational hope that Gwen will stop whatever it is she’s doing that is annoying or embarrassing me at the moment. It’s all part of that trial by fire which molds parents into something slightly super-human, but is also an occasionally painful process. Everyone gets to pay their dues. From sleepless nights to tantrums in the store to sleepy hugs at night to candy hand-prints on the wall. Good, bad, and beautiful, you get them all.

“We’re going. Get in the stroller, we’re leaving now. Madison? Get up. Right now. NOW!”

The child wasn’t getting up, but as the mom came out with who I can only assume was Madison draped under her arm, I said hi to her. I also commented on what a pretty little girl Madison was. The mom was fuming, but clearly appreciated the fact that I wasn’t ostracizing her based on her daughter’s behavior. I told her I had two of my own and had been there too. Exasperated Mom looked like she wanted to cry, and I imagine she probably went to the car and had a good weep. We chatted for about a minute longer, and she headed out of the store.

Kids occasionally turn you into an irrational lunatic spouting out words and ultimatums which won’t be carried out. However, it’s always nice to know that you’re not alone on that one.

Bedtime Rituals

2010-10-07T15:24:00.000-07:00

Gwen is not a minimalist. Bedtime has evolved into a fairly involved scavenger hunt for Greg and I to recover the myriad of blankets, pillows and stuffed animals which must watch over Gwen while she sleeps.

A typical night currently involves Blankie (always blankie), the tattered pink, green and purple blanket which accompanies Gwen everywhere. Blankie also has a twin, Other Blankie, which I purchased on ebay to serve as a stand-in for Original Blankie when I wash it. Blankie and Other Blankie must be found and given to Gwen so she can begin to wind down. As they go with Gwen everywhere and she rarely carries both at once, one Blankie is usually easily found while the Other Blankie is in a remote location in the house somewhere.

Then there is Henry, the the leggy stuffed animal cat which Gwen selected from a whole barrel of other Henrys last Christmas. Henry often goes with us in the car and is usually found in our van around bedtime.

Seahorse is a seahorse rendition of a Glowworm and has been with Gwen since before she was born. I used to play it's 7 minutes of music to Gwen when she was still in my tummy. We took it to the hospital with us and it kept her company the day she was born. She hasn't always been so attached to seahorse, but it's received an increase in popularity over the past month.Seahorse is often found on the upper floor, in one of our bedrooms, sometimes under the bed.

PurpleDuck is a purple platypus beanie baby who usually sleeps at Gwen's feet. This creature is usually in Gwen's room, but has migrated as far as the living room downstairs.

Bee Pillow she recently received for her birthday and is a large pillow that looks like a bee. She doesn't sleep on it, but it must be near her bed. This fluffy creation is always in Gwen's room (so far, it's life at our house is still just beginning)

Lastly there is Pillow, which is a real pillow that she likes to sleep on. That, plus a normal blanket to tuck her in at night and the bedtime ritual is complete. Almost.

Then there is lotion for her cheeks, 'lipstuff' for her lips and a quick hairbrush.

THEN 2 stories, though occasionally we'll stretch it to 3 if she's been good (but never 1, that simply won't do) hugs and kisses all around, me to rub her back for 5 minutes and lights out.

It never feels involved until you're walking out of her room and give a big sigh. If you've done it right, she'll go right down, if not, there is wailing at her door and stern words from us which end in her sobbing on her bed at the unjustness of sleeping in general.

But eventually, she falls asleep. Quietly snoring amongst all her little animal friends and a fan blowing gently in the corner. I imagine there is a curve, up until a certain age her bedtime collection will continue to grow, and then decline past that age. Blankie has been the first in and I imagine it will be the last out. I hope there's enough of it left for me to hang on to for a while. I'll miss these round-ups one day.

Things that make me laugh

2010-10-06T19:00:00.000-07:00

Thousands of Gallons of People

2010-09-21T15:08:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago, I was in a meeting discussing some future changes where I work. As always, change is strongly resisted in any corporate culture, and this meeting was no exception. One gentleman started a long tirade against the upcoming changes with a lady on the call acting as General Cheerleader who supported his cause by liberally sprinkling everything he said with loud ‘AMEN!’s.

It was all rather awkward, even, I think, for the gentleman speaking (at the very least it was highly distracting). Still, he made some excellent points and then wrapped it up.

At which point Backup Lady decided to carry on his sentiments with a beautifully crafted sentence. In a loud voice she passionately declared;

“The thing you don’t understand is that thousands of gallons of people will be affected!!!”

Things like that, ladies and gentleman, truly make the day worthwhile.

Pantry Antics

2010-09-20T06:00:00.000-07:00

This weekend was great. With family in town Greg and I were able to process the apples, carrots and tomatoes out of our garden and freeze most of them, while making tomato sauce (and freezing that) for lack of anything better to do with our plethora of tomatoes. Gwen, of course loved it as well.

However, I feel the hectic pace of life catching up with me. Usually a fantastic cook, I sprinkled flour instead of powdered sugar on everyone’s German Pancakes (no one said anything), and accidentally baked the bread in the bowl on its second rise.

Gwen loved all the extra time in the kitchen and was continuously locking herself in the pantry, and then panicking when she couldn’t get out. Not being one to learn from mistakes, she continued and continued to do this much to the annoyance of everyone in the household (except Garrison, who was probably fairly pleased with the new activity). Then, the inevitable happened. She had been with me, and then she wasn’t, and I didn’t think much of it initially. After a few minutes I heard pounding on the pantry door. Exasperated I opened it quickly and had a Flying Toddler enter my kitchen with stunning speed. I don’t know how she did it, it appeared she had springs attached to her shoes she came bounding out of there so quickly.

Lesson learned? Of course not, silly reader. That’s not how Gwen operates. I’m sure she’ll be right back at it tonight. Prediction? In the near future pinched fingers and much more drama will also be involved. We’ll see if I’m right.

Moments

2010-09-15T06:00:00.000-07:00

I have had the most interesting string of rotten luck lately. It’s difficult and lengthy to describe, so I won’t, but it has got me thinking about moments.

It sounds cliché, but life is full of moments. Good moments, bad moments, mundane moments and exciting moments. I sometimes think that life is comprised of events, but that’s not true. Events are the more important moments; but just like moments, they tend to pass fairly quickly.

I look at my daughter, she will be two this month. Our lives with her have been comprised of moment after moment, and I wonder how the heck she’s already two – but all the moments have led up to the moment when, later on this month, she will cross the threshold and enter her third year of life. One moment she will be one, and then she will be two. There is no in-between. Even if you break it down and say that she is one-year, 364 days, 23hrs and 59 seconds…that is still only a moment, only a flash, and then it’s gone.

And she’s older.

Somehow, while I was busy changing diapers, playing silly games and hugging her relentlessly, the infant slipped away into a baby, my baby slipped away into a toddler, and my toddler is waving her chubby hand bye-bye as she slips away into a little girl.

It can be quite devastating when you step back and look at the entirety of the situation. How quickly it all passes.

And it’s wonderful too. It’s devastatingly wonderful.

It’s like when someone hits your car. There is no in-between moment. One moment you are minding your own business, the next moment your world is slightly altered. There is no in-between, no catching your breath to figure out how you’re going to respond, no preparation, nothing. Someone says something they didn’t mean. The word doesn’t come back and the course of life is altered for a different conversation. A moment is small but can have a profound impact on what you ultimately end up doing. A gun goes off and there is the moment before, and the moment after and in the brief nanosecond that the event is happening, life changes, but you can’t really prepare. You react.

That’s how I feel like my life has been lately. Very little in the way of preparation, quite a bit of reacting to situation, after situation , after situation. And in the reacting, precious moments are slipping away with my kids and family.

These moments will all lead to a rather fantastic event of me graduating with an MBA. But the sacrifice is some of the moments devoted to my degree won’t go to watching my children grow, won’t go to sitting back and enjoying the evening with my husband, won’t be banked towards sleep or reading or laughing. We all balance moments for events. Time for rewards. It’s days like this that I sincerely hope it will all be worth it.

A Tough Job

2010-09-08T06:00:00.000-07:00

Vacation has taken on a different meaning. This past weekend, we were up in the mountains for a quick break before life gets crazy hectic again with school. It was a great time with friends and family. It involved walks, a day on my dad’s sailboat, great food and catching up on some movies. However, in all that I was still up with Garrison and/or Gwen nearly every night and was fairly tired during the day. One morning in particular stands out.

Both kids had stuffy noses, so they weren’t really sleeping incredibly well. They both were also in the room with us in their pack-n-plays so I could hear every single squeak, ensuring a lack of sleep altogether (Greg has no problems with sleeping, usually).

Saturday morning, Garrison was up at 4:30, coughing and sniffling. I got up, cleaned out his nose and nursed him. During this, I realized his back was really wet…which turned out to be a completely blown-out diaper. Ugh. I hate those. I especially hate those first thing in the morning. When he was done nursing, I laid him down and started changing him, making no effort to be quiet as I figured it was time for Greg to wake up anyways. I may or may not have also unnecessarily jostled the bed a bit. Garrison was THRILLED. His happy squeals and squeaks woke up not only Greg, but also Gwen, so I grabbed her, sang a loud Good Morning Song (again, for Greg’s benefit), carried her to our bed where Greg was, and went to wash my hands.

At which point Gwen sneezed, blowing out all the snot that had apparently gathered in her nostrils during the night. I trotted back to the bathroom and grabbed a Kleenex. Snot was all over my hands when THAT clean-up was over. So I went back to the bathroom to wash my hands yet again. Greg set to work changing Gwen, and as I came back out of the bathroom to give her a kiss…stepped right on her open, wet diaper that Greg had left (for inexplicable reasons) open on the floor.

It’s a rare occasion when I get so grossed out before 6am. It was like the kids were attacking me with bioweapons, or I was being punished by the Universe for waking Greg.

After all that, it was into the shower for me to detoxify a bit before grabbing coffee and even thinking about breakfast.

I love being a mom, but some days it’s a fairly disgusting job.

Songs and Chocolate Milk

2010-09-02T06:00:00.000-07:00

My children go to an in-home daycare right across the street from where Greg and I work. We love it and the gal (Veronica) that takes care of them. Gwen has been with Veronica since she was 8 weeks old and their family is practically a part of ours. I try and make a point of going over on every lunch break and visiting the kids. This has allowed me to nurse both of them longer than I would have probably been able to do otherwise and helps alleviate some of the guilt I feel for working (though I truly love working).

I sit in a bedroom downstairs and rock Garrison, while Gwen and I sing a variety of silly songs as she hops around the bedroom. Truly, with our soaring voices and meaningful lyrics, it’s a wonder we don’t do it for a living. As a sample, here is a song we made up, in praise of the Boppy Pillow, much beloved by Gwen and Me. (sung to the tune of Frère Jacques)

The Boppy Pillow Song

Boppy Pillow, Boppy Pillow

No, No, Yes!

No, No ,Yes!

Boppy, Boppy, Pillow

No, No, Yes

Recently, Gwen, while happy to leave us in the morning, has been ready to go home at lunch instead of the normal 4:00-5:00 departure time. This has lead to a few tears and tantrums as I’ve left the house. Today looked like it was going to be more of the same. I was bending down to hug her goodbye and made the mistake of telling her we were going to the mountains this weekend and I’d be back for her in a couple of hours.

“I go to mountains NOW!!!” Gwen said forcefully.

“No baby, I have to go back to work, and THEN we’ll go. You need to sit down and eat your chicken taquitos.” (the child eats better than I do – that whole family is a group of amazing cooks.)

“No! NOW! I gooooo NOW Mommeeeee” The waterworks began.

Veronica, thinking quickly asked. “Hey Gwen, you want some chocolate milk?”

“N-... Wait.” Her eyebrows furrowed as her mind worked quickly. Then, “ BYE MOMMY!!!” She sprung of my lap and hopped into the kitchen.

At moments like that I am very happy to be replaced by a glass of chocolate milk.

My New Van

2010-08-27T06:00:00.000-07:00

It was the dreaded decision, the one I'd been putting off for years that was thrust upon me in the face of a rather sad transmission diagnosis from our Impala.

It was time for a newer car.

And my husband has always loved minivans.

I could hear the Jaws music start up:

Daaaa Dummm

The conversations began, the bargaining ensued. I wanted a nice crossover, he set the bid low with a 99 Windstar. I said a Chrysler Pacifica (any year!), he counterbid with a 2004 Freestar. The purple minivan caught my eye, but it was old...back and forth, back and forth.

Daaa Dumm

We test drove all sorts of cars, driving to the nether regions of our metropolitan region trying to find something we could agree on that wasn't completely beat to hell. I test drove exactly one van, that's how excited I was in this quest. After much searching, we saw an ad on Craigslist for a 2005 Town and Country in reasonable shape.

Daa Dum

An older couple had owned it, no small children involved, it had only been used to drive to and from Florida and was in near perfect condition.

Da Dum Da Dum

We test drove it, it was perfect. Our daughter loved it and I gave it the half 'meh' instead of vehement NO.

Da Dum Da Dum Da Dum

The stow-and-go seats were something akin to an Act of Magic which impressed both of us and seriously clouded our judgment.

Da Dum Da Dum Da Dum Da Dum

Greg looked under the hood to find all was well, and offered $300 lower than the asking price just for the heck of it.

Dadumdadumdadumdadumdadum

And the guy accpeted.

DWEEEEEDLEEEEDUMMMM!!!!!!!

And so now we own a grey 2005 Chrysler Town and Country. With that purchase, any remaining vestiges of my cool youth went flying out the very large, rolling door. I get the fact that my image shouldn't be wrapped up in my car. I have happily driven old, well-taken care of beaters without worrying about it. But those were all cars or SUV's. Not THIS.

So it's more pride swallowing and more embracing of this whole culture known as motherhood. I suppose the minivan comes with it and grudgingly admit that there ARE nice features, I could have just lived without them driving my Ford Explorer for the rest of my life.

All the while remaining 'cool'.

This is Koomala, sucking it up and signing out to hang my groceries on the little grocery-bag hangers while 'stowing and going' my seats.

P.S. Was Jaws not the scariest movie EVER? I STILL get the heebiejeebies when I'm in the water, and I live in a completely land-locked STATE!

Keeping it simple - my finances

2010-08-26T06:00:00.000-07:00

My life is busy. Seriously

Yours probably is too.

Greg and I have a few values which tend towards frugalness in general. One of our greatest accomplishments as a couple was paying off our 2nd mortgage and a few student loans in the space of about 3 years. It was a $44,000 accomplishment and we lived like broke people while we did it.

Now, our retirements are well funded, our kids have college funds we contribute to monthly, we have paid cash for all our cars, have a well-stocked emergency fund, monthly savings, and our only debt is our mortgage which we throw extra cash at every month.

Am I patting myself on the back? Heck yeah I am, it was hard and took a lot of time and dedication. I would definitely encourage anyone to work towards the same. Keep in mind it took us 7 years to get here and cost a LOT in terms of our marriage. You want to argue about money constantly? Do this. It's a lot of intensive arguing followed by a little bit more arguing and then eventually you fall into step together and can move forward effectively. However, it was worth walking through the fire to get here.

So, there are some things I do to stay frugal and manage my time and money. While there are whole blogs out there dedicated to such topics, I'll just cover what has worked for me here. You'll also notice that a LOT of what I do is online. That's because it saves me a ton of time to place an order online for exactly what I need rather than load up the kids, wander to the store, and buy a few things that perhaps I didn't need just to make the trip worthwhile in my brain.

So without further ado:

Mint.com - this is a great site. Using read-only access to your financial accounts mint does an excellent job of tracking your net worth on any given day. Fantastic budgeting tool and really good automatic categorization. I've been using it for two years solid now and it just keeps getting better. They now even have a 'goals' feature which helps track your savings towards something. Check out their site and plug into it. The Iphone app is also good for checking on the go.

DealNews - plan Christmas ahead of time, and DON'T EVER PAY RETAIL. Go to this site and keep an eye out for deals someone may like. There are watches, jewelry, gadgets, magazine subscriptions and clothing listed daily which will almost always be applicable to someone you know. Create a list ahead of time and stick to it. My recent buys have included a winter down jacket from Lands End for my daughter for $13 with free shipping, and a sapphire/diamond ring for $25.

Amazon - In the spirit of never paying retail, keep an eye out for Amazon's grocery deals. You can get dishwasher detergent, crackers and other dry goods occasionally at rock-bottom prices. I just bought 6 jars of peanut butter for $9 with free shipping. Compare prices as this one isn't always guaranteed, but occasionally you can get a great deal.

Groupon - Like dates or eating out? Check out this site. They have a daily deal for a lot of places, restaurants for 50% off, lots of exciting activities at discounts and the like. It's a daily deal a day and worth monitoring for things you like. I get their daily email and if there's something that looks interesting, I snap it up.

Diapers.com - Have kids? Don't buy expensive diapers. Not only does this site have a lot of diapers at discount prices, their own brand of diapers is less expensive than Costco's. You can also still get Costco Wipes at this site (because Kirkland baby wipes are the best) Google coupons before your first order, for this and the Soap.com sister site, most new sign-ups can get 20% off.

E-Mealz - Don't have time to plan out simple money-saving recipes? Let these gals do it for you. For a small monthly fee ($5). They shop the sales, plan the meals and tell you what to buy and how to make it. The recipes are quick, simple and cheap. They also have meal plans to meet specific dietary needs. Check it out - it may just be the solution for you.

Craigslist.org - We purchase some clothes, furniture, and all our cars on this site. Do some deal searching, it's a constant garage sale. Need a small appliance? Look here first.

ThredUp.com - this is a great site to swap kids clothes. Check out the concept. You stuff a priority mail box (mailed to you for free, by the site upon sign up) full of clothes, type up a description and mail it when requested. The site even lets you print the shipping slip from home and schedule a pickup. When you want a box, just pay the $13 flat fee for shipping and have it delivered in 3 days. Signup is free.

Zenni Optical - Wear glasses? Me too. I have a hefty perscription which require super-compressed lenses. Glasses can easily cost me $500. I've searched at most online sites and HATED the styles available. Until I ran across these guys. These glasses styles are FANTASTIC. Check it out; hopefully you don't have to buy compressed lenses, if you don't, your stylish glasses will be really inexpensive. Your insurance may even cover it!

Use the library! I love this place and it's worth mentioning. Just use the library. I'm resisting the urge for a Kindle right now. Why buy books when you can check them out and read them for FREE. I don't know about yours, but my library was just remodeled and is beautiful. There are big armchairs and reading nooks and even a fireplace with a view. Library dates are the best.

Search out local discount stores. We have a bread store outlet just down the street from where I work and can buy fantastic healthy loaves of bread for .50/loaf. These loaves usually run $3 or more at the store. We buy all our cleaning products at our local Family Dollar as their prices on cleaning products CAN'T be beat by even the Internet. (*gasp!*) Do some Google searching by typing in key words such as 'outlet' or 'discount grocer' and then your zip code. You'll find the stores nearby and can then determine if they're worth driving to once a month or so.

Cancel your Costco membership. We used to LOVE Costco, but found we were spending MORE per ounce/pound per item than non-name brand items at our local King Soopers (Kroger Company) Amazon can usually beat bulk prices any day, and non-name brand items are at worst, the same price - usually better though. Think long and hard before you renew that membership. We saved a TON of money by cancelling it and those $300 trips.

Cook Beans - seriously. Buy a big bag of dry beans and cook up a big batch on Sunday. Use throughout the week for burritos, side dishes, tostadas, salads anything! They're healthy, convenient (after you've made them) and go with just about anything. Dry beans are also amazingly cheap. Can't beat em!

So that's my list so far. Little changes can eventually add up. Do some research before making large purchases, you can usually always find a deal. If you're purchasing something for a website Google coupons for that site first, you may be able to score free shipping. Good Luck!

My Garden this year

2010-08-21T19:05:00.000-07:00

This was our garden this year. It was an experiment in growing things that wouldn't be too overwhelming. We're pretty proud of ourselves!

Nighttime and Sleeping

2010-08-09T06:00:00.000-07:00

(this is a continuation of my 'How I stored 700oz of Breastmilk' page to the right)

With two kids now starting to sleep happily through the night. I have some fairly valuable knowledge to share here, which you will find even more valuable in your 8th week of waking at all hours of the night to feed your darling little baby.

First, it’s not that big of a deal, initially. The lack of sleep and all. You will have a darling little newborn to cuddle and gaze at and worry about; and going in to visit him or her at all hours of the night will be a wonderful experience. These are really good times, and enjoy them while they last. It’s helpful to remember that you will not always be waking up to do this and there is something different and wonderful to the sleepy 1am nursings vs. the daytime ones.

However. Eventually, probably in the 2nd month or so, you’re really going to start feeling it. My sentence in the above paragraph will take on a bitter, sarcastic tone though it will STILL be helpful to remember. So, at this point it will also be helpful to remember that you WILL be getting full night’s sleep again. Someday.

However, that someday can be fairly soon if you remember the helpful tips below. And my helpful tips are really going to be helpful if you don’t plan on co-sleeping, or only co-slept for a little while and now are putting your little one in his/her crib to sleep. This isn’t a discussion as far as whether co-sleeping or crib sleeping is good/bad/going to ruin your child’s life forever and ever…it’s just what worked for me. Both my kids slept in their cribs after the first week or so being home. Before that they slept with me. I suppose I could have continued down that path…but I really enjoy turning over/sleeping with my husband/ sleeping on my tummy/just sleeping. So the crib really worked. I haven’t tried specifically designed little beds for cosleeping but imagine they would be handy.

So, on that note: I read one really good book about sleeping that I used a bit on Gwen. It was called “12 Hours of Sleep by 12 Week Old”. And while that worked pretty well on Gwen, these ideas had no discernable effect on Garrison. The child HATES a schedule. That type of thing is really going to depend on your child’s temperament. Essentially the book slowly weans out one night feeding after another until you’re sleeping through the night. You don’t really let your child ‘cry it out’, you hover over their crib after letting them cry for 5 minutes and pat and give them a pacifier but don’t pick them up. It’s not quite Ferberizing, but it’s not that different either.

Because Gwen was pretty good about sleeping –we really only had one night that she cried a lot and then she was onboard. Garrison? Well he’ll just keep crying and crying. The child is determined and I’m not going to let him cry for too long before picking him up. It just upsets him on a different level than it did Gwen. Trust your instincts as a parent on that sort of thing.

However, while Garrison is very resistant to ‘sleep training’ and scheduled naps and everything else that may make my life slightly more convenient…he has had a bedtime of 7 -7:30 every day since he’s been born. This is because it’s my daughter's bedtime and he gets to be bathed, dressed for bed, fed and put to bed just like she does. Whether he wakes up later or not doesn’t matter, he just gets to go to bed at 7. And this has made a big difference. Now, with him at 12 weeks old and having a very persnickety personality; he’s just started sleeping through the night. Book or no book, the schedule is working.

So I would highly recommend a bedtime ritual and consistent time. We picked 7 with Gwen because we’re up early to get to work (around 5) and because with my MBA I need about 2-3 hours at night to do homework. 7 fits very well into that criteria. I would pick a time between 6 and 8 to start off with. And then stick with it for the first 3 months as often as possible. Make it a high priority item for the two of you.

My little ones LOVE baths, so they get a nice warm bath (I don’t soap them up each bath, it’s more for relaxation purposes than because they’re actually dirty), a change into cozy jammies, Garrison gets wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket (Gwen gets a story) and I rock him in the rocker while nursing him.

He gets drowsy really quick, but I make an effort to keep him awake (by tickling his cheek) until he’s nursed on both sides really well. Sometimes I put him to bed completely passed out, other times he’ll just be drowsy. Do a little burp and then into the crib to sleep.

When he wakes up in the middle of the night I pick him up, keeping the lights off (I have a nice nightlight in there) and nurse him in the rocker again, and use the time to catch up on blog reading (on my Iphone) until he’s done. Then back into the crib. I do not talk to him or engage him much during his nighttime feeding to keep him as asleep as possible.

Wake up at the same time each morning and, whenever possible, go in and wake your little one up at that time. Eventually they learn that you’re going to get them at 6am (or whenever) EVERY DAY, so they don’t need to call you to let you know they’re awake. Garrison hangs out in his crib wide awake knowing I’m going to get him up around 5:30. He’s cooing and happy but not crying. Even on weekends, that’s what we do.

Persistence is key. You’re going to have some tough moments. There will be nights you are up every hour. There will be evenings where you’ll have had it with breastfeeding because NO ONE else can wake up for you to take care of your baby. You will probably shed more than a few tears of self-pity. All of this is OK. However, if you can hang in there it will be worth it and you will have a baby who starts sleeping through the night.

And it’s not perfect. You’ll go forwards and backwards with your progress. Writing down when your little one wakes up will help you keep track of your overall forward momentum if you need it. For me, it was just another thing to do and I had completely given up any hope of sleeping so I didn’t care. Still, looking back I can see when his midnight feeding changed to a 1am, and his 1am feeding to a 3am. Occasionally he still wakes up for that 3am feeding but he’s also starting to sleep through to 5:30am, so we’re getting there. It just takes patience.

Drop me a note if you have questions, I’d love to talk with your or even just give you a ‘hang in there!’ if you need it.

Table of Contents:

Crazy

2010-08-04T06:00:00.000-07:00

Having a new baby can be stressful. As Garrison seems to be over his colic, I can now begin writing about it with a sense of humor.

In June, my brother was on leave from his Afghanistan deployment. I had had company for about 3 solid weeks since Garrison’s birth. Garrison was up every hour, on the hour at night. It was like some magnificently designed torture program. During the day, we were out doing activities; at night, I was awake breastfeeding. I was exhausted.

So in the middle of a conversation with John, I had a complete meltdown. I could not, for the life of me, stop laughing. I laughed until I cried. Then I cried. Then I laughed some more.

My brother, a battle-hardened warrior with two deployments under his belt, was very worried, and slightly uncomfortable.

That next week, I had my 8-week check-up. My doctor asked if I was feeling depressed. I said no, and I really wasn’t. Overwhelmed does not necessarily equal depressed. Still, after some conversation, she verified I really didn't need meds. I said no, and almost started laughing manically again. In hindsight, perhaps a bit of medication would have been helpful.

Still, for the last four weeks I have, apparently had ‘a grin that sends sane men scampering into trees’. And it allows me a surprising amount a freedom. I suppose I’ll have to return to the world of the sane here shortly; still, I'll miss being a little crazy.

Upon further reflection, with two kids I’ll never actually return to the world of the sane. Perhaps living in crazy is the new normal.

Morning!

2010-07-30T06:00:00.000-07:00

Greg is in DC this week on business so it's just me and the kids. Gwen loves the vacant bed space and is taking maximum advantage of this new opportunity. She crawled into bed with me at 4 this morning (after I fed Garrison at 3:30). She was pretty content to snuggle for about an hour, and then she became impatient. “Mommy, wake up, I want bottle”. I said sure, I’d get it in a second. Then she got all demanding “MOOOM EEEE. WAKE UP. I want bottle NOW.” (Her vocabulary is becoming quite impressive!). I rolled over away from her. At which point she climbed onto my side, sat on me, and started bouncing while reciting; “WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP”. Her annoying little chant soon became a song and I know there was no going back to sleep.

Luckily, my coffee was on autobrew so I grabbed a cup to start the day while heating up her milk. At which point I got in the shower while SHE reclined in bed surrounded by pillows for another half hour.

Life just isn’t fair sometimes.

Upcoming semester

2010-07-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

This past week I paid for my fall semester at school. All told, it was slightly less than $6,500. It was a chunk of change out of our savings, and I was a little sad to see it go. And what will this buy me? It will buy 11 credits. 11 credits that ensure I will remain completely busy from September to December morning, noon, and night. My days usually begin at 4am and ends at 7:30, when the kids are fed, bathed and in bed. That’s the time my hubby and I usually sit and watch some TV, catch up on the house, or do dishes before collapsing on our bed to do it all over again the next morning. Of course, lately, my sleep is somewhat interrupted by our little son, who loves nothing more than a midnight snack and 2am company.

However, this marks the halfway point of my MBA. I’ll graduate at the end of next summer and this is the heaviest loaded semester I’ll have to take. At the end of everything I’ll be able to say I have an MBA in Finance, and I did it while starting a family and working full-time. Not too shabby on a list of personal accomplishments. Not that I would really recommend this education plan to anyone. If I had to do it all over again I would have gone straight into my masters from my bachelor’s program…but when you’re young and just want to finally make some decent money…that’s a tough sell.

I think one of the more important life lessons I’ve figured out is that sometimes, just gritting your teeth and doing something is far better than waiting around for it to be less painful. Usually, if there’s a cost involved up front, it will be exacted even if you wait, sometimes at a higher price. So that’s my wisdom for the day.

The Pantry Project Continues...

2010-07-22T21:04:00.000-07:00

I've discovered why my pantry is so full.

We don't actually EAT 7 dinners a night at our house. Between generous friends and really cheap pizza deals, we eat at home more like 3-4 times a week. While I CAN say that we still eat around the dinner table together as a family no matter what it is we're eating...we just aren't (right now) eating a lot from home.

Lest you judge me TOO quickly, that's not to say it's always been like this. Indeed, before Garrison was born I had considered myself quite the cook! However over the past two months the earth has shifted dramatically under our feet and we have fallen into some occasionally bad habits. I'm addicted to caffeine and sugar in amazing quantities and don't cook as much. Nothing irreparable, I just am not going to tackle it right now. Not having had a decent nights sleep for 10 weeks does strange things to your motivation in general. I'm thinking by August my little determined child MAY be sleeping through the night. But by typing those words I have probably jinxed the probability of that happening.

So, the pantry project continues and we are seriously saving some cash on groceries! This week we had beans and rice, leftovers, sale bread with the beans and rice, and soup with grilled cheese sandwiches. There was oatmeal with craisins and slivered almonds every morning with toast and oranges in our lunch. Lunch consisted mostly of leftovers with one occasion of going out to eat Vietnamese soup (Pho). I'd like to pick up some more crystal lite drink mix but am starting to think that the artificial sweeteners may have been causing some of Garrison's colic. He's much happier now with me on water.

I'm slowly getting my life back under control little project by little project. This week I completely cleaned out my desk, purged a bunch of junk and set it back up. I have a whiteboard with a list of ongoing things I want to accomplish. Greg cleaned the house top-to-bottom for me last weekend and at work I was able to put my long list of things to do both in my calendar as well as in my excel 'ToDo' list I created. We still aren't eating in every night, but life is coming back around to manageable levels.

Who?

2010-07-18T18:54:00.000-07:00

Sitting around the table tonight, Greg and I realized that Gwen was confusing 'good' with her name. For example, ask her how she is, and she's very likely to exclaim 'Gwen!'. So Greg worked with her on her name during dinner. Alternating between 'what's your name?' and 'how are you?' Gwen quickly picked up on this and then the two of them started working on everyone elses name. Greg asked 'what's MY name?' and Gwen excitedly said 'Daddy!!!!' then, 'What's YOUR BROTHER'S name?' 'GARRISON!!!!' and lastly, pointing to me, 'And who's THAT?'

'ICE TEAAAA!!!'

Somewhat surprised, Greg said 'no...who's THAT?' Pointing a little more clearly at me.

'LADYBUG!'

He whispered 'Mommy' to give Gwen a hint. At which Gwen whispered back 'mommy' at him. Then Greg pointed at me. 'Who's that?'

'LADYBUG!!!!'

Though Gwen says my name often and some days incessantly, clearly when she doesn't have a complaint, owwie, or empty tummy, my name escapes her completely and she reverts to 'Ladybug'.

All this hard work is definitely paying off.

Using up my Pantry

2010-07-17T15:24:00.000-07:00

I think most of us have it. A large, unwieldy pantry full of strange cans of food we should have never purchased (but they were on sale!), bags of pasta products half-used, spices gathering and breeding in dark corners, bits of chips hanging out in bags not opened in a few weeks (or perhaps months) and half-used cereal boxes clogging up the taller shelves. Interspersed among these items is the 'real' food. Food we use and replenish on a weekly or monthly basis.

But, if you're like me, in shopping for the 'real' food, inevitably a lot of 'extra' food gets purchased and shelved, never to be used again. Much like the 10 cans of Manwich Sauce that was apparently a good buy a while ago...but we don't actually eat Manwiches. Never have, so I'm not sure why I bought them. Grocery stores can become bewildering places, especially when two crying children are involved..

I'd love to have an efficient pantry, one that would be of use in case of an emergency, but also practical for every day things. Something not too complicated and preferably neatly labeled. Less canned goods and more staples. Preferably, more free space in general. However, I lack both the time, energy and money to toss out what I currently have and replace it with better things.

So, this month, I haven't bought any new groceries except for milk, eggs and cheese. I'm forcing myself to cook with what I have, down to the last dregs of cans, even if it means Manwich Sauce over spaghetti. Everything needs to be eaten. I have a bit of meat in the freezer, 6 pork chops and a bag of chicken breasts. Additionally, I have a 5lb bag of dried pinto beans for when that source of protein runs out. I have plenty of frozen and canned vegetables and an ungodly amount of frozed hamburger and hotdog buns. While our fresh produce intake will suffer temporarily, I don't believe that it will harm us in the long run. Besides, eventually having an organized pantry plus workable (read: cookable) emergency food supply is well worth it.

Here is the current state of my pantry:

That middle shelf is mostly cleared out because I started this project July 1st, and we've already eaten our way through a bit of it, though some friends visited from California and gave me an excellent excuse to eat out instead.

So, I'll be posting updates on this. I'll also be posting what I want my emergency supply to look like, because I think it's important that everyone have at least a couple weeks of food they could get by on. I like the 3-month number because, in my opinion, if after 3 months if you still can't get food...you may want to start moving on to greener pastures. Whatever that may look like.

Additionally, this is my background. I do Continuity Planning for a large company, and love most aspects of disaster planning. I'd like to do some freelance work to help people prepare their families to make sure their lives would continue as normal as possible should something happen to their circumstances. However, I need to get all the bits and pieces I've collected along the way to help US organized, accessible, and workable in every day life.

Given that it's over 100 degrees outside today, I'm not using the oven. Rather we're having a chicken pasta salad for dinner with some tomato soup. The tomato soup is of the canned variety, and the chicken pasta is a mishmash of pantry/freezer ingredients.

1 chicken breast, cooked with lemon pepper and cubed (Ham, turkey, tuna, etc... whatever would have worked equally well, in my opinion)
Handful of bowtie pasta, cooked according to directions
1/2 cup of mayo
around 2 TBS of apple cider vinegar
The remainder of a bag of slivered almonds
Handful of cranberries
Salt, pepper, more lemon pepper, some basil and whatever else struck my fancy.

I mixed all this up and put it in the fridge for a few hours, we'll see how good it is tonight. :)

I have milk in the fridge, so I'll make the soup according to normal, but eventually I'll use evaporated milk as well.

If anyone out there has experience with this, share some recipes!

Good for my Ego...

2010-07-15T06:00:00.000-07:00

I went back to work on the 7th. It was great, I was really, really happy to be back and not changing diapers, calming tantrums, or constantly breastfeeding. It was great to be valued for my thinking capabilities and not how much milk I had produced that day or how many goldfish crackers I had doled out. Still, it was a little overwhelming. The house hasn’t been the same since Garrison arrived, I like it somewhat clean and that has hardly been achieved with the constant flow of houseguests in between getting used to a colicky baby.

So, when I work, I kept thinking about how great it would be to have the house clean. One may say that I obsessed over it a bit – probably unhealthily. I trudged through the day, visiting with my fellow office-workers and wrestling with our help desk trying to get my email reconnected. Greg, who works in the same building as I do, signaled when it was time to go home; helped me pick up the kids, and off we went.
By the time we arrived at home, Garrison was crying again. Gwen was grumpy and so dinner and bathtime was a long and arduous procedure. The kids, supposed to be in bed by 7, had started to settle down by 8…a solid two-hour effort on our part. I wearily walked down the stairs, exhausted, and surveyed the toys strewn across the floor, the unfolded laundry lying in heaps on the couch, the dishes to be washed and dishwasher to be emptied…and I hit my wall.

I walked straight through the room and went down into the basement where I flopped down onto the guest bed and felt what little energy I had left leave my body. After a few minutes I thought about lifting my arms just to make sure they still worked…but decided that would require a little more effort than I had at the moment. So I just laid there and listened to the silence.

Pretty soon, I could hear Greg wandering around on our main level. I could practically hear his mind trying to figure out where I had disappeared to. I wasn’t doing dishes, wasn’t doing laundry, wasn’t picking up the room and I wasn’t upstairs with the kids…where did Christa go???

His steps meandered over towards the basement door and he thumped down the stairs. Upon seeing my prone body spread-eagled on the bed, he asked ‘You OK?’.

I gathered the energy to use my voice, ‘Yeah, just resting a minute.’

‘You want to be left alone?’

‘Yes please, that would be great.’

His brows furrowed, ‘OK.’

But he didn’t leave. He hesitated, then went over to his office and started rummaging through papers, then looked at me, then walked around the room, then went back to meaningless rummaging. He sat on the bed and patted my hand.

I didn’t respond. I didn’t really have the energy to. I think I really wanted to cry – but didn’t even have the energy to do that.

‘Tough day at work?’ he asked.

‘No’ And it wasn’t. It was an easy day at work. Everything was just piling up on me and I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it all.

‘You sad?’ then he helpfully offered ‘should we get you on some meds?’

‘No.’ And I didn’t need meds. I hadn’t had a lick of postpartum, but figured everyone needed at least a few days when they could be completely overwhelmed without having Zoloft crammed down their throats.
‘What then?’

Ugh, I groaned and sat up. And I explained it. How everything was piling up, how I wasn’t sure how I was going to do 11 credits of school this semester, how I wished Garrison would stop crying and just be happy, that I wasn’t sure how I could give both kids equal attention with Garrison being so needy, that I had some travel coming up and I didn’t want to leave, that I couldn’t keep up on the house, and cooking and keep us on a schedule, how I was utterly, and completely….overwhelmed. Tears rolled silently down my check and I slumped forward on the bed, head buried in the comforter. I was the picture of self pity.

Greg was silent for a minute, rubbing my back in deep thought. I was sort of hoping that this little display would finally convince him to pony up and get a housekeeper. I thought that was what he was rolling around in the back of his mind. I was wrong.

My husband can be one of the most tactless people alive. After years of marriage to him I can only conclude that when faced with a situation where he needs to say something meaningful and touching, his brain completely shorts out, and goes into opposite mode; where the most insane thoughts make perfect sense. This was one of those moments.

I know what Greg meant to say. What he meant to say was that I had been doing too much and that I needed to lower my expectations of everyone else and myself. However, that is not what he said. His brain, taking over and apparently attempting to kill him, decided this was the best way to phrase that sentiment:

‘Well,’ he said thoughtfully still rubbing my back, ‘This is good for you. Good for your ego. Take you down a notch or two.’

The comment hung in the air, a pregnant pause, and Greg started to realize his error. No doubt he also started rapidly calculating ways to turn what he said around, into something a little more thoughtful at the moment.
Other women probably would have burst into hysterical tears. However, for whatever reason (and this is probably why we’ve stayed married as long as we have) the sheer ridiculousness of his comments really make me laugh. I started to chuckle. I will confess it was a bit hysterical to begin with, but that evened out and I was able to muster up the energy to solidly hit him on the arm and proclaim he was a world-class jerk.

Greg looked relieved. I heaved myself off the bed and stood up. Greg stood up next to me and took my hand. ‘Let’s go clean the kitchen together and then we’ll go to bed.’ It wasn’t terribly romantic, but that’s not the life I signed up for. I sighed and nodded. It was the thing to do. So we did. And with the kitchen clean and the rest of the house a complete wreck, we fell asleep for a few quick hours of much needed rest before Garrison woke us up to start the whole exhausting routine of newborn sleeplessness all over again.

Romantic gestures are wonderful. But when the stuff is hitting the fan and the ship is sinking…I’ll take a solid partner over candlelight dinners any day of the week. Someday, those romantic days will be back. Until then we have laundry to fold and diapers to change.

Nursing and the Dentists Office

2010-07-06T13:38:00.000-07:00

Nursing is such an interesting endeavor that I'm writing up a whole series of posts for this blog, to send out to the blogosphere and perhaps provide some guidance, enlightenment or plain entertainment for other readers. It's still in the works however, and won't be posted for at least another few days. I'm hoping to work on it some more this weekend. (UPDATE: This is complete and can be found on the side of the page under 'If You're Curious' or here)

However, here's what happened today. I occasionally love nursing my son. I don't love it all the time (more on that later), but sometimes it is nice, and peaceful, other times it is laced with a bit of humor. This morning for example, I had to run to the dentist. Thinking that it was for a 30-minute cleaning, I brought Garrison.

First, I went through my 'Recipe for Success' which is good for any baby. I tanked him up at the house, feeding him on both sides, then changed him, bundled him just-the-way-he-likes-it in the carseat, and then drove the 30 minutes to the dentist's during Garrison's usual nap-time. I fully expected he would be down for a nice long 2-hour nap at least (like any other morning) and so decided that it would be no big deal to just bring Garrison along.

Ah, how wrong I was. Garrison, deciding firmly that today was NOT his day, nor would it be mine, set his mind cried on and off the whole way down. Then, deciding that the dentists office was a fairly threatening place, with it's peaceful fountain, quiet music, and muted colors - ramped up the crying to an all out scream. All my efforts to calm him were failing. In fact, I just seemed to be angering my child with the rocking, bundling, various position-switching and pacifier insertions. It was then, in between screams, that the dentist walked in. Surprising as I usually don't see her until AFTER the cleaning. Then it dawned on me. This wasn't a cleaning, this was to fill a few cavities.

I sighed, I looked at my very red-faced little son who glared up at me, mouth open and producing astounding amounts of noise and did what I didn't really want to do. I lifted up my shirt and whipped out my boob. Garrison showed his appreciation by immediately biting me hard, savaging my nipple like a puppy on a toy, and then just sitting there. Kid wasn't hungry, he just wanted to sit there.

So we sat there. I called my husband somewhat frantically, and when he was on his way, the dentist leaned me back and began the numbing process. The 'you'll feel a little pinch' speech was nothing compared to the punishment Garrison was giving my breast. Good distraction I guess.

Greg saved me by grabbing Garrison and taking him to daycare for the rest of my appointment. After I was done, I drove to pick Garrison up. He STILL hadn't slept, and was still crying. so I went back to my recipe for success (which is quickly turning out to not be that successful). I fed him again for 20 minutes or so (he actually ate this time), changed him, bundled him up the way he likes, kept the car nice and cool and quiet, and expected him to fall asleep.

Nope.

Suspicious of my efforts, Garrison did yet more screaming and crying all the way home. Not much you can do on the interstate but hope the crying stops and tell yourself running off the road or into another car isn't a good option at that point.

Once we were home, I had to prepare yet again. Bringing Garrison down off this kind of emotional ledge is always an tremendous effort. He was exhausted, having been up for 5+ hours, but stubbornly clinging to the idea that if he went to sleep the world would stop turning. To a cacophony of screams, I brought him inside, changed him, wrapped him in a different (more favorite) blanket, I got my nursing pillow and a book, and settled in.

Red faced, bleary-eyed, sniffling and snuffling, Garrison finally latched on and started to nurse. Almost immediately he conked out, only to wake up 4 minutes later and eye me suspiciously. Then he'd eat a bit, pass out, and repeat the process. This is the part of nursing I love. The fact that I can completely calm my kid down when needed. I also like watching him, because his stubbornness at 8 weeks old is astounding to me. For nearly an hour, he simply wouldn't let himself fall asleep. It was suspicious glares, bites, growls and cries every 5 minutes or so as he nursed.

Then, finally, I felt him give a great heaving sigh and gave in to the sleep that had been pulling on him like a wave. I held on to him a little while longer, finishing a chapter and then marveling at how lovely Garrison's face is when he's peaceful. Then, because it was fairly hot, I transferred him to his crib with a fan blowing gently over him.

That's where he is as I write this, and where he'll be for a few hours longer I imagine. Nursing is many things. It is at times painful, annoying, wildly time-consuming, the source of strange humor, and occasionally inconvenient. However, it is also a very simple way to calm your child, feed him, and simply spend time with him. I didn't envision my day going quite this way, and now, at 2:30 in the afternoon I've hardly accomplished anything. But I got Garrison to sleep, and sometimes that's quite a lot.

How our marriage started off

2010-07-02T05:00:00.000-07:00

I love my husband very much, however it's true that you tend to marry your opposite, and we both have a streak of crazy running through us. This wasn't a good combination when we were first married, however after 7 years things have calmed down a bit and we have a good rythym for our lives. It's not perfect, but most of the time it works.

When we were first married, I didn't know how much my husband HATED change, and Greg had no idea how much I loved it. Change, money, and house-cleaning were our 'fight buttons' and we went to battle daily over these issues. Nothing had really prepared me for HIS particular streak of crazy either. We dated almost 3 years, and yet moving in with him was a big shock. The man was crazy (so was I - but I'm the one writing the blog and that's the perspective you signed up for by reading it), really, really crazy about particular things.

It had been about a month and a half since we'd said our vows, and pretty much all but the honeymoon had been rough patches. I was still in school, hadn't found a job since moving to Denver, and didn't have the same standards of cleanliness as Greg.

So one day Greg walks in the door after work in a complete funk. I asked him what was going on. I got the precursory 'nothing' response, but further pressing revealed that something big was wrong.

"I filled out the insurance, benefits and retirement account paperwork today for us..." he sighed deeply, almost tragically.

Thinking there was most likely a problem with my name-change, I thought I had this problem pegged. Not so. He continued:

"Do you know, that from now on, I will NEVER be able to check the 'Single' box again? I will always, from this point on, be either married, widowed, or divorced, but I will NEVER be single again!!!"

He glared at me, as this was clearly my fault, and then spun on his heel and stomped towards the bedroom.

Things have improved dramatically since that moment almost 7 years ago. True, they got worse there for a few hours, but eventually they got better. Greg isn't good with change, never has been and probably never will be. That was my first introduction to how much he hated change in general. At the time, the words stung a bit, but mostly they didn't make any sense. Now, it's been added to our ongoing list of 'Awesome Sayings Spoken in Moments of Pure Crazy' list.

My Chocolate Chip Cookies

2010-06-30T05:31:00.000-07:00

It seems premature to bequeath upon the blog my amazing chocolate chip recipe so soon in its life. Especially with a readership of exactly zero. However, a gift like this can't exactly be hid under a bushel, so to speak. So here it is. My fairly amazing chocolate chip cookie recipe. Which, I can't even take full credit for. It comes from 'The New Best Recipe Cookbook'. I just modified it a tiny bit. These cookies are amazingly soft and wonderful. Try it out - you'll amaze everyone.

Chocolate Chip Cookies

Blend together in a bowl:
2 Cups + 2 Tablespoons flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt

In another bowl:
1 stick butter + 4tbs natural creamy peanut butter - melted together in the microwave and cooled until just warm (stir together)
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup regular sugar
1 large egg + 1 egg yolk
2 tsp vanilla or almond extract
1 bag semi-sweet chocolate chips

Preparation:
You know what to do. Cream the butter, peanut butter, and sugars all together until nice and light and fluffy. Add in the eggs and extract and mix until well blended. Slowly add in the flour mixture, allowing it to blend together. Once it's all together, stir in the chocolate chips.

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Roll the cookies into balls (whatever size you like, I find large works just as well as small) and bake for 15(ish) minutes.

You're going to want to pull the cookies out right when they're on the edge between looking not-quite cooked and cooked. The center should still be somewhat puffy, and even a little soft. This helps with their texture. Let them cool on the cookie sheet and then remove and serve.

Prepare to be hailed as awesome.

(P.S. If you don't want to do the peanut butter, just do all butter - a stick and a half. I like the little bit of peanut in there, but some people may not. Try it either way and see what you think.)

Altoids

2010-06-28T06:00:00.000-07:00

My daughter is in a fairly defiant stage. Nearly everything is 'no' and 'mine'. Lately, things she can't have on a regular basis (such as gum, candy, shards of broken glass, etc...) have become highly prized in her mind, and she tries to get at them whenever possible. When she gets them, she hoards them like a dragon on treasure.

This morning, she found a box of Altoids in my desk. It was nearly full and as I'm not a huge fan of regular Altoids (keep me away from the cinnamon ones), I'd forgotten about this one. I walked out of my room to see her stuffing her chubby little fist into her mouth. My parent's border collie, Scout, was sitting beside her watching the proceedings with intense interest.

I saw the open, nearly empty, Altoids tin lying beside her and quickly deduced what was going on. She saw me coming and quickly deduced what was going to happen. Another fistful of Altoids went towards her mouth, and what wouldn't fit she quickly dropped on the floor by Scout.

Who, not believing his good fortune, quickly snarfed them up with his tongue.

For a moment, Scout's head cocked slightly to the side with a 'What's this???' kind of look in his eyes.

Which quickly turned into 'OHMYGODMYHEADISONFIRE!!!!!' sort of response.

Which then melted into the 'MY NOSE IS FALLING OFF!!! MY NOSE IS FALLING OFFFFF!!!' panic that really only border collies can give appropriate action to. Sneezing, frantically pawing, and then scooting around the rug on his nose were all actions that ensued.
Gwen watched, fascinated.

I went to her, held my hand under her mouth, and told her to spit them out.

She shook her head vigorously.

I told her in a louder voice to 'SPIT THEM OUT!'

She looked at me, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's, eyes watering and red, nose starting to run, and defiantly started swallowing them whole.

All to the chorus of our dog's non-stop sneezing in the background.

I decided not to fight it and I'm glad I didn't. Later on that day I found her (not Scout) drinking water out of the toilet and licking the seat. These are things worth fighting. Overly minty fresh breath? Not today.

And Scout still hasn't stopped sneezing.

Laundry

2010-06-25T06:00:00.000-07:00

Today was a big laundry day. I despise doing laundry with every cell in my body. My husband isn't much better. His laundry method is to throw all the clothes in the washer, switch them to the dryer, and then set them on the couch for days on end, or until the wrinkles become permanent fixtures in the fabric - whichever comes first.

I had, I kid you not, about nine daunting loads to do today. Greg took Gwen to daycare so I could accomplish this task without the constant 'help' of little hands overturning neatly folded baskets of freshly laundered clothes, leaving me home with just Garrison. And his colic hasn't improved much.

Still, he naps a lot, and in the first couple hours of the day I cleaned a bathroom, changed the sheets in two rooms, finished four of the laundry loads and reorganized my linen closet. After these amazing accomplishments, Garrison decided to start the day, and from then on it was quick 30 minute bursts of activity followed by soothing, nursing, changing and rocking while listening to a cacophony of ear-piercing shrieks (I like to pretend we're in a constant state of Opposite Day and they're really enthusiastic THANK YOU!!!!s. Usually this doesn't work at all to improve my mood)

So by the time hubby came home, I had done all of the above PLUS learned how to effectively fold fitted sheets (thanks Grandma!) completed 3 more loads (including putting away all the clothes I had folded) and only had a load and a half left. But, Garrison had reached critical mass, my grandparents had shown up for dinner, and I had to leave the last bits of clothes on the bed to be folded later on that evening.

Later on, I had just finished bathing Garrison, put him down to bed, and was grabbing a quick drink of water before tackling our daughter's bedtime ritual when Mr. Immagetyoufurious goes upstairs.

"What did you think of the linen closet?" I called up to him happily, expecting a few nice compliments.

"Ehhh. What's with all the towels on the floor?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm bringing those downstairs - they're the kitchen towels"

"Oh...." *moving on to other important things*

Not quite the response I was looking for...but whatever. I had the last load drying and was getting ready to bring it upstairs.

Greg went to his energy meter (It's a monitor of how many kilowatts we're using at any given moment - another post for another time) and looks at our current energy load.

"Leave it to you!" He exclaims "Hottest day of the year and you're running the AC AND the dryer. Have you SEEN how much energy we're consuming right now?!"

I'm fairly certain Greg meant this as a casual point of conversation. I also think he was genuinely interested in how much energy we were using and didn't quite mean it to sound the way it did. However, he followed it up with a fatal:

"So...I was really hoping to go to bed soon. Should we start putting those clothes away?" With a clear "You did nothing you said you'd do today and I view you as a complete failure in life" tone of voice.

There are moments (admittedly a lot more lately than there used to be) when that whole 'Loving Wife' plan goes completely to pieces. It's about the same time that I turn into a scary, fire-breathing dragon and am capable of roasting people to crisp marshmallows with a torrent of well-placed verbiage.

The good news is that I can really channel that energy and fold clothes at like, quadruple time, AND clean the kitchen AND move the towels AND write a blog.

...If I were angry a lot more I imagine that my house would be a lot cleaner...

The bad news is I eventually have to apologize for the epic ass-chewing.

Blogging about it was a bit easier at the moment.

Simple Sweets

2010-06-23T05:33:00.000-07:00

Cornbread is hard to classify - but MY cornbread is definitely more towards the sweet side. Try it. I've been perfecting this recipe for a couple years now and THIS is amazing.

Christa's Cornbread Muffins

Ingredients

1 cup yellow cornmeal

1 cup flour

1/4 cup sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

2 eggs

12 ounces creamed corn*

1 1/4 cups milk

1/4 cup vegetable oil

Preparation

Grease muffin pan with cooking spray or butter. In large bowl, mix well: cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder & salt. In small bowl, beat eggs with fork. Add corn, oil & milk. Stir till blended. Add to flour mixture and stir with spoon till mixed. Pour into muffin tin. Bake at 425 20 min. or until golden. Can also bake in greased 8x8 pan for about 35-45 min but I find muffins work better all around. Makes about 15.

*you can substitute equal amount defrosted frozen corn OR 12 ounces regular canned corn - drained. I just like creamed corn - it makes it a little sweeter.

The Rumbling Stroller

2010-06-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Father's Day. I could post something sappy about how wonderful a father my husband is (and he is) but I feel that wouldn't be in keeping with the spirit of this blog. So I'll share a real-life harrowing dad story of when our daughter was first born.

We were still on maternity leave, and Greg was with me, so our little girl, Gwen, couldn't have been more than a week old at the time. Wanting to get out of the house, we decided to go to the swanky mall down the road a ways.

We were in Williams Sonoma (another testimony to how great Greg actually is - he was willing to tag along and do this shopping with me) Greg, me and Gwen with a friend of ours. I was pushing the stroller with Greg behind me and our friend, Danny, behind Greg; all navigating through the narrow aisles housing unique and completely overpriced items that I would love to own but would, in actuality, rarely use.

Then something strange happened. The whole stroller started rumbling, as if an isolated earthquake was right in that local, accompanied by a rather rude growling-trumpety noise.

This went on for longer than you'd think.

Bewildered, I stared at Gwen, who looked back at me with a strange, newborn look on her face. Greg looked at me and asked, with a smirk on his face "What was THAT?!"
"I think it was Gwen!" I replied. This promoted grade-school snickering from Greg and a polite look-away from Danny.

"No really, I think it was her!"

"Honey, that was QUITE a noise for a newborn..."

But then Gwen, bless her, vindicated me in a way that I would soon regret: light brown liquid had begun seeping up her waist, had soaked through her blanket and was quickly on her way up to her chest. Danny, Greg and I all stared down with increasing horror at what was turning into an epic mess.

"What do we DO?!" I hissed at Greg. "We are in Williams-Freakin'-Sonoma. These things don't happen here!"

Greg, panic in his eyes, thought quickly and pointed heroically out towards the door. "TO THE BATHROOMS! QUICK!"

You know that scene in Lord of the Rings where the party is running through the Mines of Moria in an attempt to escape the Balrog? That was us. We flew through the mall, pushing Gwen faster than was probably safe, watching the brown stain ooze up her onsie well on its way to her neck at this point.

There was a family bathroom, thank God, and we rushed into it with our faithful friend, Danny, standing guard outside ("You, shall not... PASS!!!!").

But this presented another problem. We had to get Gwen out of the stroller. This meant peeling away the blankets to reveal the damage underneath.

It was worse than you are probably capable of imagining.

I had no idea that much of anything could come out of Gwen's 7-pound little body. As a new mother, I was also slightly surprised it hadn't killed her.

However, these thoughts were brief as my amazingly sensitive gag-reflex decided to kick in and I started retching violently. My gags, hacks and coughs echoed impressively around the tiled walls.

Greg, assessing the situation, quickly sprang into action. He unclipped Gwen, and removed her gently from the stroller. I set to work cleaning up the actual seat while Greg began the rather complicated task of removing Gwen's onesie, trying to pull it over her head without contaminating her face too badly. While sitting on the toilet, balancing her floppy little body. Once she was naked, I removed the diaper and set to trying to use wipes to clean her up.

It was as futile as using bubble wands to clean up the BP Oil Spill.

We eyed Gwen, dangling from Greg's arms.
We eyed the sink.
We calculated whether or not we would still be good parents if we rinsed our newborn daughter in the sink. We decided no one needed to know.

(Except, of course you, almost 2 years later)

And, we rinsed her off.

It wasn't pretty, she wasn't happy, but the Parenting Police didn't show up so I guess it turned out all right.

We dried her off with bathroom paper towels and quickly dressed her in a backup outfit. Flipping the blanket over and folding it strategically, we covered her back up in the fairly-clean stroller.

If Danny wondered why Gwen smelled so strongly of bathroom anti-bacterial soap, he never did say. But we did decide it was time to head home. Gwen was stressed, I was stressed, Greg was stressed and Danny needed a beer.

Parenting is very much a dual effort. When one of you is heaving violently, the other one needs to kick it up a notch and deal with something that the books didn't have the heart to address.

Eventually, you too, may have to deal with something like this (or you have already dealt with something like this) and all I can say is I hope you have a partner like mine who can step it up when needed and surprise you both.

Happy Father's Day Babe.

Grumpy

2010-06-18T07:00:00.000-07:00

My son, Garrison, is 6 weeks old this week. He's an interesting little individual. Most people would like to say their children are happy, content, that they smile all the time...I can't really say that about Garrison. Fact is, the child is grumpy.

I should have known he would be not quite predictable, he practically came out growling. Seriously. For 3 days after he was born, he did nothing but growl and groan. Not quite crying at that point (that was to develop shortly thereafter), just a constant noise. Even while nursing and sleeping, though during those times his growling would...lessen a bit I guess. It's really quite difficult to explain. All the nurses commented on it.

They were all "Is he still making those noises?" and I was like "Uh, yeah..." and they were all "Why is he doing that?!" and I was like "OHMYGOD THIS IS ONLY MY SECOND TIME DOING THIS, WHAT DOES IT MEAN????"

Now, he cries...a LOT. Our doctor thinks it might be reflux, so I give him a little minty medicine which pretty much only gives me something to do. I can't imagine it's really helping though I'm not brave enough to find out what he's like without the medicine.

Garrison doesn't sleep much, an hour or two at a time at night, and about the same during the day. At least I finally got him used to the crib, which was an intense, exhausting two-week ordeal to get him to try it out. He still refuses to sleep in there during some naps.

Greg thinks we should attempt to let him 'cry it out'. Greg is also not home with him to see how quickly that situation would deteriorate. A typical cry-session goes something like this. Let's assume I'm doing something like changing my daughter's diaper, or dealing with something that happened to her. So I put Garrison in his swing.

First little cough: equivalent of "Please pick me up now, I don't think I like it very much here"

Followed by ear-piercing shriek: "I've decided I don't like it at all here, pick me up NOW"

Continued by Screaming Wails: "I think that the chair is made of HOT LAVA and I hate you so much. Now just come get me, quick! Before the lava consumes my body!"

Shrieks, wails, and eventually, not that much breathing he's expending so much noise: "OHMYGOD I KNEW IT. YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME. I HATE YOU I HATE YOU IHATEYOU!!!!! GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD...."

This is, typically, only the span of about a minute.

There has been one time when, due to Gwen having another sort of meltdown after falling dramatically off our patio...I couldn't get to Garrison before he reached 'Goodbye Cruel World' status...eerily, he just stopped. I think (though I was in another room so I can't confirm this) that he cried so hard he passed out. I ran in to check on him and he was laying peacefully in his seat, eyes closed. Still breathing, thank God, but very silent for him.

So, whenever possible, I don't let him get that worked up. Not only can I not bear his wails and shrieks, but bringing him back down is a fairly exhausting endeavor and ruins him for naps as he becomes convinced I'm going to off him the next chance I get and so he watches me warily for the next couple hours or so.

People say it's colic. I say its Garrison not quite accepting of the fact that he has, in fact, been born, and that he needs to get on with life just like everyone else.

Just so we're on the same level, here is my seriously adorable son, at 'Please pick me up now' status (I had just set him down for about 3 seconds before he decided it was time to jump off a bridge):

Simple Sweets

2010-06-16T07:49:00.000-07:00

Last night, Greg and I had a crazy sweet tooth, but both kids were in bed. So I whipped out this super-simple brownie recipe. Seriously. No melting of chocolate over the stove or anything like that. AND it doesn't turn out super-cakey either. Takes about 10 minutes to whip together and about 40 to cook. Check it out.

Chocolate Chunk Brownies

Ingredients
3/4 cup Baking cocoa
1/2 teaspoon Baking soda
2/3 cup Butter melted,divided
1/2 cup Boiling water
2 cups Sugar
2 large Eggs
1 1/3 cups All purpose flour
1 teaspoon Vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon Salt
12 ounces Semisweet chocolate morsels

Preparation
1) In a large bowl, combine cocoa and baking soda; blend in 1/3 cup melted butter. Add boiling water; stir until well blended. Stir in sugar, eggs and remaining butter.

2) Add flour, vanilla and salt. Stir in chocolate chunks. Pour into a greased 13-in.x9in.x2in. baking pan. Bake at 350 for 40-45 minutes or until brownies begin to pull away from sides of pan. Cool.

If you want to add in some nuts, make it about 1/2 cup at the end. I find that cook times vary fairly drastically with brownies...so just keep an eye on them after about 40 minutes or so. It was closer to 50 minutes in my oven.

Dance Class

2010-06-14T14:48:00.000-07:00

Becoming a mom can give you a complex. Becoming a mom a second time doubly so. Covered in spit-up, breastmilk, old clothes and feeling chubby I have been catching my favorite dance show while folding endless amounts of laundry and attempting to teach my daughter that yelling does not get you what you want. Often by yelling at her. Sitting on the couch 2 weeks ago after eating yet another 'meal deal' from the local fast food joint, I had a completely irrational thought: I would sign up for dance classes.

Not only dance classes, but contemporary dance classes. I had visions of me floating gracefully, with an amazing dancer's body, doing all sorts of dancerish things while the lesser moms out there looked on enviously. My inner narrator would add on 'with the grace of a dancer' as I did the most menial tasks. As in: "She selected apples from the produce section with the grace of a dancer". (Don't even tell me you don't have an inner narrator. We all do.)

After some brief classes I would try out for my favorite dance show and they would be stunned at the natural talent that oozed out of my pores and disbelieving that I had only been dancing a few months. After an amazing season where I excelled at all styles of dance; I would win the title of 'America's favorite dancer' and have something inspiring to say like: "Everyone should follow their dreams, if you want to do something, do it! You never know what you may be good at - I mean, look at me and dancing! I just started 3 months ago!"

However, the fantasy does not line up with reality in a few ways. In fact, there are some fairly massive disadvantages to be pointed out here.

First; I have hardly any rhythm. On our wedding day my husband and I sort of rocked back and forth in a circle desperately praying for the song to be done. 4 years later, on a whim, we took ballroom dancing classes which can mostly be summed up as us galloping across the dance floor giggling and ended with me losing a toenail.

Second; I'm 5'9" and do not have much of a dancer's body. Heck, I'm attractive, but right now I'm busting out of a DD bra and have a lovely, curvy hourglass figure that may or may not jiggle when subjected to athletic activities.

Third; I haven't subjected myself to any sort of athletic activities in almost a year.

Fourth; I am about as limber as a spooked possum.

None of this deterred me though, and after exchanging some fairly positive emails with the gal at the local dance studio I signed up for 8 weeks of 'Beginner's Contemporary Dance'. She assured me that though many of the other dancers in the class were already experienced, I would fit right in.

Last night was our first lesson, and upon walking into the class I soon spotted that I was clearly the oldest person there. The gal closest to my age was the instructor, and the next closest was the 14 year-old who had been taking ballet since she was 3. We began with some 'simple warm-up stretches' where all the girls, clearly knowing the stretch routine, stretched with 'the grace of a dancer' and I sort of heaved left and right attempting to touch my toes. At the part where we all did the splits and 'pressed our stomachs to the floor' all the other girls were happily prone with foreheads on the ground and toes pointed to the sky while I sort of bobbed up and down in the back, not even close to the floor and nowhere near doing the splits. There was a strange pretzel-like move that left me clutching my ankle behind me with my other leg bent under me while bowing towards the floor and, sadly, tipping over like a drunk person making strangled noises as I went.

And then it was time to dance.

The teacher did a strange, slumping shuffling walk with shoulders gracefully moving to the music. She then did a dramatic stop, made her whole body do a 'wave' motion ending with an amazing head snap, turned her leg in a circle, did a beautiful twirl, and then extended her arms from her body with the music while simultaneously leaping to the right then starting over again with the shuffle. She did this twice and then sent us across the dance floor to do it ourselves.

The other girls performed admirably. Not perfect, but fairly well. Apparently they weren't 'loose enough' and had to 'let go of their ballerina training and really feel the music'.

Then it was my turn.

I attempted the shuffle by apparently channeling my inner zombie. Hunchbacked, I lurched across the floor in disjointed movements, throwing my shoulders around awkwardly and completely missing the cue to do the body wave. I sort of threw my head forward in an attempt to catch up and flung my arms out. I started a twirl and only made it halfway around before the momentum I generated sent me careening wildly off to the right. And, since I was already over there, I ended the movement with a slight hop in lieu of the graceful leap.

The girls who were watching sort of shuffled back further into the corner and the instructor smiled worriedly in my general direction.

With some minor critiquing of the others and a, 'just do your best' for me, off we went again. Over and over I spasmed across the floor, tossing my arms and legs every which way and occasionally heaving myself into the air. And it was while doing this that I realized something very important:

I am not a dancer.

Still, I was having fun. Much like the person at a party who has had way too much to drink and hauls off on the dance floor to cut loose, deeply embarrassing everyone else around them. I was that guy minus the alcohol.

However, having recently given birth there isn't much at this point capable of really embarrassing me.

Certainly not young little ballerinas thinking poorly of my dance style.

I will go back next week and be just as bad as I was last night because I can hardly remember the moves to practice effectively. I will practice what I remember and it will probably be vastly different from what I'm supposed to be doing. However, I will be sans any duties for an entire hour.

And that my friends, lets me really feel the music.

Breastfeeding - Set-Up

2010-06-08T06:00:00.002-07:00

Make a little Nursing Retreat.

Set it up in the nursery, bedroom or living room. This is a place where you have your pump already set up next to your chair for quick access when your baby is hungry. It can also serve as a place to bring your baby if he/she is overstimulated and you can easily get them away and calm and (hopefully) asleep quickly and simply. If you have other kids in the house, this can also be either an escape from them, or a place to read to them while nursing the new baby before bed or during the day. The use is up to you, but this Retreat can come in very handy. Gwen likes to lay her head on my legs while I scratch her back or play with her hair. It works.

For set-up, I use a TV tray table next to my glider rocker in Garrison’s room which works really well to hold my pump and a few other items. Occasionally, if I want to catch up on some TV I’ll move my ‘Retreat’ (read: TV tray) to my living room and use that nursing time to catch up on shows; though usually I much prefer reading and quiet to watching TV while nursing. Obviously, I sit somewhere close to an outlet so I don’t have to plug/unplug the pump. I leave it constantly set up.

In addition to the pump, you’ll also want a few pillows or your Boppy easily accessible and some reading materials such as magazines or a book you’re working on, or your cell phone. I have an Iphone and really enjoy reading blogs while I’m nursing and/or playing some mindless games (at 3 in the morning you’ll be amazed at the simple things capable of entertaining you). If you’re a person who has and enjoys their smart phone, then have a charger at your Retreat also so you can easily bring your phone and not run out of juice.

Lastly, make sure you have ice water on hand, or, as a second-best, a few bottles of water hanging around your Retreat. The ice water is wonderful as for the first two months you will be amazingly thirsty each time you nurse. Seriously. You will seem like your normal self, sit down to nurse, and then inexplicably feel like you have just crossed the Sahara and wonder, somewhat rabidly, WHY THERE IS NO WATER ANYWHERE. It’s strange, and don’t try to explain it, just do yourself a favor and keep that area stocked with water, or have hubby do it for you.

Stereo. I love to listen to quiet guitar/piano music and have used it recently to calm my colicky son. I have a small stereo in my Retreat which almost constantly plays soft, quiet music. If you also have a colicky child, try a small fountain as well. For some reason the sound of falling water is very soothing to newborns.

Pretty much all of this stuff (except the pump and fountain, if you choose to have one) you have on hand. If you don’t have a chair get one off of Craigslist. I got a great glider-rocker for $50 with footstool! The point is, this shouldn’t be expensive to set up, or really even that complicated. Eventually, in spite of the initial pain of latching on and complication with the pump and all that – you may start looking forward to sitting in your chair and just rocking, reading, and nursing. It’s very relaxing once you get the hang of it – trust me. You’ll even eventually find that pumping while doing all of the above isn’t a big deal, it will take some getting used to – but you’ll get it.

Especially in the middle of the night, it’s nice to have a place to go to that’s already set up for you and your baby. Don’t pump much (if at all) in the middle of the night, you’ll want to sleep/doze/read instead. I much prefer nursing sitting in a chair, even in the wee hours of the morning as I never really got the hang of the side-by-side latch. If it works better for you to nurse lying down then, by all means do it. Whatever works for you. My Retreat is good for both night and day, but you may have a separate night routine which works better.

Next: Supply and Storage

Breastfeeding - Equipment

2010-06-08T06:00:00.001-07:00

So, if you have decided to give breastfeeding in the workplace a go – here is what you need to start with. Before, or just after you have your baby.

• Your baby.
Ha! Obviously this is a prerequisite…however, also a slight warning. Don’t start pumping before your little one is born. Seriously. I thought about it too and after researching it found out it’s a fairly terrible, fruitless idea which would, at best, deprive your baby of your amazing colostrum and much-needed nutrients and immune system boosters. Wait until your milk comes in. This will be about 3 days after your baby is born.

• A good double-style breastpump.
I have used Medela and like them. I haven't used anything else and so can’t speak to it one way or the other, but by all means do some research. Also, with Gwen, I did all my pumping with a *gasp* barely used breastpump.

I know, buying used breast pumps is not only not recommended, it’s sort of taboo. My view is that, if money is an issue, it’s better for you to pump with a good pump you can afford, rather than not at all. With my used pump, I cleaned it up really well (I also knew the lady I was buying it from), and used it solid for 7 months. Nothing strange happened to Gwen and I didn’t have any problems. There are LOTS of women (you may end up being one of them) who went gung ho and bought breast pumps and hardly used them due to unfortunate circumstances with post-partum depression, pain, mastitis, or any other myriad of excellent reasons. You can capitalize on that if you need to.

With Garrison, as I had ‘proven’ that I could do it, we spent the money and bought the pump-in-style breastpump with the small backpack. It cost us $235.

Search for the best deal, take a couple weeks and REALLY look around on the web before buying.

• Lanisoh brand lanolin.
This comes in purple tubes and is one of the few areas I’m stubborn on. DO NOT ACCEPT OR TRY SUBSTITUTES. Don’t even bother with any other nipple creams. Total waste of time. The tubes last forever and will really help you out. Love the lanolin. Make sure you have this on hand before giving birth. This should be in your hospital bag.

• Breast Pads.
Again, here I use Lanisoh brand and am not as name-brand loyal here. I just find that in general, these pads don’t get as bunchy with repeated folding down and up, down and up throughout the day. I did try cotton and found that I leaked through them like crazy – especially in the beginning. They just didn’t work for me. But, try a few brands out and see what works for you.

• 2 daytime nursing bras, 1 nighttime.
You’re going to want to go to an actual store, sometime towards the end of your pregnancy (or just after giving birth if you think you’re up for it), and get fitted for one of these suckers. Seriously. I went from a 36C to a 38DD when nursing. Whatever size you think you are – you probably aren’t. Underwire in general is a big no-no, and I’m a big underwire FAN. I like the girls perfectly round and lifted. However, it will reduce your milk supply and generally not be that comfortable – so forget about underwire for the time being (we will sacrifice many things for our children. Luckily the underwire is just temporary).

The bras I love and use are made by Bravadol. Very comfortable, lots of support, easy to snap and unsnap and no underwire. You can even sleep in them if you’d like – removing the need for a sleeping bra. PLUS, they hide the fact that you may be wearing a terribly bunched nursing pad under there, giving you a smooth appearance. The downside is that they are expensive ($50/bra) BUT, I felt for the comfort and function, it was worth the money. I bought 2 of these and didn’t bother with a night bra.

• Breastmilk Freezer Storage.
Here again, I use Lanisoh brand freezer bags, but you have lots of options. The Lanisoh bags are my favorite because I freeze a neat 6oz at a time, can lay them flat, label them clearly and really store them simply. Plus, the boxes of 25 make it easy for me to keep track of how many ounces I’ve stored. When I’m done with a box, at 6oz per bag, I know I’ve stored 150oz!

• Luxury Item: A couple of nursing tanks.
You don’t HAVE to have them, but I have found that they’re indispensible in the hospital right after you’ve given birth, and for the week or two afterwards when you’re getting the hang of things. I love them and would recommend spending the money on Glamourmom Nursing tanks (I prefer the long ones).

I have also found Target’s version to be good (order online as they’re not in stores) – though if you have a long torso like me (I’m 5”9’) you’re going to find Target’s brand a little on the short side.

I also bought KomfyKangaroo nursing tanks because of their affordability. However, these were my LEAST favorite. They ran REALLY small, were full of complicated snaps and such, and just didn’t work for me in the least. In their favor, they are more affordable than other tanks. If you go with them, purchase at least one size larger than you usually wear and try one out before purchasing others.

Regardless of the brand, these are great because you can wear these tanks alone, or under pullovers for quick, discreet nursing, especially out in public.

• Luxury Item: Boppy Pillow or other similar product.
I went my whole nursing time with Gwen not having any other pillows than the normal ones you put on the bed. This was not a big deal at all, because I didn’t know anything else. However, with Garrison, I just purchased the Wal-Mart version of the Boppy ($10 cheaper!) and have had many ‘what took my so long to buy you?!’ kinds of moments. You don’t need it – but it is pretty wonderful.

Next Setup

Breastfeeding - Supply & Storage

2010-06-08T06:00:00.000-07:00

First, determine how much milk you need to store.

• If you plan on mostly being around (no business trips) during the duration you plan on nursing, then 150oz is more than enough. This will cover a small supply for your babysitter/mother/daycare for their freezer so you can quickly drop off your baby if needed; plus your own emergency supply for when you drop your full bag of milk in the garage loading up the car to go to work (I’ve had this happen and was heartbroken). It will also cover a weekend away with hubby if you’re ready for it, and a small supply at the end to wean baby over to formula. (You’ll need to pump roughly 5 oz a day for 5 weeks)

• If you have a couple (2-3) business trips in store for you for the time you plan on breastfeeding, you’re going to need far more of a supply. I average 32oz a day for each day I’m going to be gone on a trip (I’m imagining a slightly older baby here, a baby 3 months or less won’t drink that much). Multiply that by how many days you plan on being gone and add that to the above estimate.

• If you have a LOT of business trips coming up, then you’re going to want to do the gung-ho plan and freeze as much milk as possible, because honestly, it’s going to be difficult to keep your supply up with only a pump and occasional nursing. Not to discourage you of course, just plan on storing a lot up initially on your maternity leave. Pumping and storing IS your new job.

Initially, as we all know because I’m sure you’ve read every book out there on nursing , you won’t have milk, but colostrum. So, not only will you NOT be producing milk, but your baby will be freaked out and acting hungry by crying and wanting to nurse all the time. Hang in there and just let that baby nurse. Keep your nipples liberally waxed with Lanolin and let him or her go to town. The more they nurse, the better your milk supply will be when it comes in. It’s like they’re placing their food order early – and you’ll deliver it about 3 days later.

Side note: This is how my daughter was, but my son, after he was born, was really not interested in eating for the first full 24 hours. He only earnestly nursed 3 or 4 times during that period and I thought we would have problems. Not to worry. After the first day he ‘woke up’ and decided he needed to eat. Hang in there, your baby may just be in a bit more shock and just want to sleep. Not a big deal. Try and avoid giving formula if you can, babies aren’t necessarily hungry right when they’re born, they just got done with, essentially, a big meal.

Be prepared. When your milk comes in, you are very likely going to feel it, and it’s very much going to be uncomfortable for probably 2-3 days or a week. You can tell when your supply comes in as you will feel like you have rocks in your boobs, they’ll probably be noticeably larger, firmer, and probably really painful. Be aware that if you feel like you’ve got the flu or the pain is REALLY intense – go to the doctors. You may have mastitis. I’ve read that some women don’t know when their milk supply comes in….but I’ve never actually met one of these women. Perhaps you will get lucky.

So, the thing you hardly ever read is that breastfeeding is how painful it is (or it’s VERY downplayed). And it is. Some people can live with it, some can’t. Some women are hardly bothered, for others it’s very traumatic. I’ve never gotten the cracked bleeding nipples…but I think it’s because I used a ton of Lanolin in the first two weeks. After two weeks, it gets better for most people. However, if it’s not getting better for you and you’re hating it – STOP. It’s ridiculous how many women push the issue too far. Most of the ‘amazing’ research done on breastfeeding and breastmilk is largely inconclusive (yes, I said that but check it out for yourself). This isn’t a hill to die on. Bond with your baby and enjoy your maternity leave. If nursing is hampering that then let it go and live in peace. (I will now step off my soapbox)

So your milk has come in. This is a VERY important time for those of us who are going to pump and start storing milk for work. When your milk comes in, you start off with an oversupply, and then eventually that supply will taper off to exactly what your baby needs. No more, no less. We don’t really want this. You’re going to want to ‘catch’ your supply at oversupply stage and start storing all that milk. As your supply evens out, you’ll have more than enough for your baby, which means you’ll be able to store milk without inducing hunger. Here’s how you can store extra milk – it’s what worked for me.

SIDE NOTE: with Gwen I only stored 65oz of milk for my return to work. This was not enough. So with Garrison, I’ve been on the ‘Gung Ho Plan’ as I have a few business trips coming up and want to make sure he’s taken care of. To an extent, you’ll need to customize this for you because no one plan works for every baby or mom. Still, remember that while it is easy to adjust your milk supply DOWN, it’s very difficult to build it back UP.

Once my milk supply came in, I immediately started feeding Garrison on one side, and pumping the duration of the feeding on the other. I did this for most of the feedings for that first week (though not all – because it’s also important to relax occasionally and just cuddle). This is a commitment. If you don’t want to do it each feeding, and you don’t have to store that much milk, I would recommend doing this for 4 feedings each day. Early morning (when your milk is creamiest), once during the day, evening, and once during the night. After the first week, go to that schedule regardless; remember that it’s important to also just cuddle and bond with your baby, not every feeding session needs to have an agenda. Make sure that you switch sides with the baby each feeding. Meaning if you pumped on the left and nursed on the right – next time nurse on the right and pump on the left.

Don’t get your hopes crazy-high. The first few times/days you won’t pump that much milk. Maybe half an ounce, maybe less. However, nursing and pumping at the same time will ‘train’ you to let down for the pump like you do for your baby. You’ll eventually probably start to be able to feel when you let down, but initially it will be a mystery. So, just hang out on that pump until milk starts to flow – it may feel a little tingly at the edge of your nipple, maybe not. Your pumping sessions should only last as long as your nursing sessions, though a little shorter is fine too. After the 2nd week, I was able to get in 2 letdowns before stopping the pump and taking a break – but until then it was hit and miss. (If you’re having problems or have questions – feel free to drop me an email and I’ll try to help. I get that this is tough.)

So, though initially not much milk will be collected, keep it anyway and add to it in the fridge with each feeding. Do this until you have 6 oz, then label and store that milk in the freezer. That’s a HUGE accomplishment! Go pat yourself on the back. From there on out, things SHOULD start getting easier. More milk will start to be collected and your supply should really come in . Keep collecting it in 6oz increments until you reach your overall oz storage goal.

If needed/wanted you can also add in solo pumping sessions without your baby. If you want to do this, I recommend last thing at night (an hour after your little one was last fed) or in the morning. For the morning session, first feed your baby, put him/her down for a nap, shower, then before getting dressed have a pumping session – make sure you pump for around 15 minutes for these sessions as the pump is not as effective as your baby. Solo pumping isn’t really necessary, but if you’re going for overachiever status, give it a try.

ISSUES:
It is worth mentioning here that overfeeding can become an issue if you’re pumping ALL THE TIME. I ran into this problem with Garrison. So, observe your baby carefully. If he/she is spitting up a lot, or crying a lot, or has a lot of gas…then you need to adjust your supply down a notch. I found that when I was pumping extra solo sessions a lot, I started drowning Garrison with too much milk. When I pumped while he fed and did only one solo session right before bed…that worked out really well.

At about 3 weeks into it, I was storing 18oz a day, or 3 bags of milk and heading quickly up to 24 oz. We bought a used, small freezer on Craigslist to hold all the milk. While this was great – it was too much for Garrison to take, so I adjusted down and started pumping between 10-12oz a day instead. This has been a much better balance for us.

A good way to adjust down is first eliminate solo pumping sessions (except for 1 if you’d like to keep that) and then do one or two feeding/pumping sessions where you only pump for the first let-down and don’t drain the breast completely. So, only about 5-7 minutes of pumping, then cuddle with your baby. Keeping a log of how much you’re storing per session and then per day can help you keep track of things and see when you can level off.
The freezer we bought on Craigslist is only 6 cubic feet large, and stays just under zero degrees, so it’s really perfect for breastmilk use (and cost us $30). If you clear out one shelf of your regular freezer and lay your breastmilk bags flat – this should be more than enough space as well.

And that’s how I did it. I built up a MASSIVE supply (overkill) through trial and error. Things went much more smoothly with the second baby than the first. A lot of this could be too that your breasts are essentially reforming a bit with the first baby, and by the time the second rolls around they are already ‘programmed’ to breastfeed. So while my methods were much more refined the second time around – remember that it WAS the second time around. Give yourself a break if it doesn’t happen the same for you. Anything is better than nothing. Again, this is not a hill you need to die on. I did my first go ‘round and it really stole some of my joy.

Next Nighttime and Sleeping

Consistency

2010-04-18T08:29:00.000-07:00

I find parenting to be an interesting endeavor. You have a child, who depends on you to make somewhat rational decisions. However, I myself don't always feel fully qualified to be making all the snap decisions I find myself making.

With a second baby on the way in about 4 weeks; Greg and I decided to move Gwen into a toddler bed rather than purchase a second crib. We had the toddler bed already and thought this would be a simple thing after a week or so of adjustment. I decided that with Gwen in the toddler bed and full of new-found freedom, we would not just conveniently lock her in her room at night and naptimes...but rather consistently put her back in bed just like I saw on Nanny911 and SURELY, after some consistency here, Gwen would simply go to sleep when it was time for bed - door open and all.

For those parents who may be reading this blog; stop smirking.

I am constantly amazed at my daughters very pleasant way of stubbornness. There are no tantrums really, no wailing or sobbing, but rather; about 20 times every evening after we put her to bed; she gets up. Again, and again, and again. You say 'it's time for bed' or 'go to bed' and she happily says, 'K!' and trots on back to bed only to revisit in about 1 minute.

Greg is not quite the authoritarian I am, and so he may read her a story, or simply let me deal with it until exasperation kicks in and then he'll shut the door. Which instantly escalates the situation, of course. Occasionally, we have waited 2 and a half hours for her to fall asleep. Sometimes, she goes to sleep right away. There is no real pattern to this bedtime ritual.

I can only think/hope that consistency will continue to be key here, and so I will continue to get my exercise in after 7pm trotting up and down the stairs telling Gwen to go back to bed. As parents, its up to us to decide the best way to handle this situation, but as I stated above; having no prior experience, it's only a guess that this is a good way to deal with it. We haven't done this before, and a shoddy TV show with British Nannies serving as our guides does not necessarily inspire confidence.

Still, confidence will get you further than a ton of self doubt; so tonight, for the 3rd week in a row; we will put Gwen to bed with the door open and begin the ritual all over again.

My Excuse

2010-04-15T09:25:00.000-07:00

Not that I seriously believe anyone is following this blog anymore, but, before I launch back into the world of blogging; I feel I should provide an excuse (or a couple) as to why my last post was over 3 (YIKES!) years ago.

First, I had a baby. In September of 2008. However the shock of finding out I was going to have a baby pretty well squelched any level of creativity that may have snuck its way into a blog. Most of my pregnancy was a long panicky dialogue that hoped everything was going to work out OK.

Luckily it did, and she’s beautiful and amazing and everything Greg and I hadn’t thought to have hoped for.

Then I started an MBA. I’m still doing this though I’m better at time management these days than I was last summer.

Then, I became pregnant again. He’s due next month, but I have some time between now and then and figured I’d get going blogging.

I had considered starting up another blog, but figured these old posts still had some entertainment value and also made it LOOK like I’d been blogging for quite some time. I like the appearance of that. Lends me 2010 credibility from 2007 efforts.

So, off we go…

Hair Cuts

2007-12-03T16:57:00.000-08:00

I am working on growing my hair out. I’ve gone from shoulder-length to lower shoulderblade in the course of about 7 months. Big accomplishment and if I can stay patient…I’ll just keep right on going until it gets to mid- back.

I’ve never had my hair trimmed on a regular basis – I do try but it’s only when I notice it’s a bit frizzy do I remember that it’s been 3 months since my last cut. Time flies, what can I say? But there is something that happens EVERY TIME I get my hair trimmed.

I get in the chair, the girl examines my hair and asks what I want…I say something like ‘A trim’ and she starts fluffing my hair out to get a good idea of the work in front of her. And then she always says “Oh my, who cut your hair last time?! Jeeze. I need to take off at least (add an inch to our current agreement here).”

Each time. They complain.

I have even tested it and gone to the same girl 2 times in a row…and it was the same schpiel. I think perhaps they teach you to say that in hair school, so constant is it. Anyways, just thought I’d throw that out there.

Like a freight train

2007-11-14T13:56:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, being silly is not always funny...when you're talking about freight trains. Observe:

MARYSVILLE, Calif. (AP) - A 54-year-old woman was recovering in the hospital after being hit by a Union Pacific freight train south of Marysville.

Deborah Thompson told authorities afterward that she drank a bottle of whiskey before she wandered to the railroad tracks and tried to wave the train to a stop. When asked why, she told Yuba County sheriff's deputies she was just being silly. Instead, the train hit her and knocked her 20 to 30 yards.

Thompson suffered head injuries and a fractured thigh bone but was conscious and talking after the accident.

I suppose I'd want to know the baseline before the doctors confirm what kind of head injuries she has....sounds like there may be some sort of pre-existing condition.

Something strange here?

2007-11-06T16:41:00.000-08:00

I was wandering through Barnes and Noble this evening, and this lime-green display of books caught my eye. Then I did a double-take as I saw the advertising:

"Inspired by....The Bible Experience Companion Bible"

Wow.

Now, I'm not sure just how many Bibles you may need to have an experience...but if you're already moving on to a companion, after reading something inspired by the 'Bible Experience'....well - good for you I suppose, but it sounds very convoluted. No doubt it's changed lives and yadda yadda yadda...but c'mon people - just how dumb do we as Americans need to be treated before we start catching idiocies like this? Let me spell it out for you:

There is a bible.

You can gain knowledge from it, and some people have had spiritual experiences from it.

There is no companion bible to the bible. Sorry - it doesn't get any simpler than cracking it open and reading it. Perhaps you will have an experience, perhaps not.

And in case you don't belive me:

Bickering

2007-10-31T07:28:00.000-07:00

This morning we were driving to work. Greg pulled a rather high-speed, and in my opinion, dangerous maneuver where he zoomed up on a semi in order to cut around a car on the left and get in the fast lane – ahead of this other guy.

A session of bickering broke out after I criticized the action, and we went back and forth for a while before losing interest in the topic.

Rather, we ALMOST lost interest in the topic if it weren’t for this final comment:

“You know Christa, if you were more aware of your surroundings you wouldn’t make these kinds of statements because then you’d know the full situation.”

Funny how bickering can flare right up again after statements like that.

The Mile High Cosmos

2007-10-19T16:31:00.000-07:00

I have this amazing garden out in our backyard. I was much more meticulous with it at the beginning of the year – cultivating it to have a wild, English Cottage sort of look. I planted delphiniums, larkspur, goblin daisies, irises, hollyhocks, snapdragons, marigolds…a couple of catnip plants for Cider (So she could roll around in one while the other was trying to recover from her affections – thank God catnip plants are like weeds) all of those sort of things.

Oh yes, I also had a few packets of Cosmos seeds…and so I threw them around by the fence not expecting very much. We have horrible clay soil, and so I really have a hard time growing much from seeds.

Now, in October it is very clear that I have underestimated Cosmos.

They started growing nicely in the spring, which just thrilled me – but then as expected, I had a number of seedlings die off from crowding and what I thought were soil conditions…so I thinned out the rest and remained hopeful that they’d do something. And for a number of weeks nothing happened. They shot up to about 4 inches tall and then just stayed there – not growing, not dying…just hanging out. So I assumed they’d be dying any day now because they hated the soil.

Well, maybe they were mutating…or perhaps they were adapting…or even just storing up energy much like a biker loads up on carbs right before the big race….but come August they TOOK OFF. Shot straight up in the air and kept going. And going, and going. Not many blooms, but they just kept growing. Cider soon began to love her ‘forest’ comprised of thick cosmos stems (about an inch to an inch and a half in diameter) and hardly any leaves (down by the ground) up top it was nothing BUT leaves in all their feathery green glory. Not that many blooms, just a lot of height – the day they went over Greg’s head was a big day (he’s 6’6”)…the day we couldn’t touch the top stems was even bigger. I figure that they’re around 12-15 feet high now.

And it just when they peaked like that that the blooms finally decided to show – in October. And their blooms are just as vivacious as their growth, it’s a sea of purple, maroon and white in the back corner of the yard. With those flowers came butterflies by the dozens – I think they were Monarchs. 2 Saturday’s ago I went outside and was amazed to see the whole backyard all a-flutter with butterflies all over the place. They’d come for the cosmos, of course, but were landing in the grass, on the trees, on the back fence, by the back door…it was an amazing sight. They must have been migrating somewhere, but I’ve never seen anything like it, and have no doubt there was magic in the backyard that day.

And the butterflies left – but my cosmos keep growing – I’ve put in some pictures for you to see just how amazing they are – I’m hoping for a repeat production next year.

We're Up!

2007-10-15T06:09:00.000-07:00

Ok, if you've not seen on the blog now - we're up and constantly feeding weather data of a most excellent nature. Our full page site is here: http://www.wunderground.com/swf/Rapid_Fire.swf?units=both&station=KCOFREDE2

Not Fair.

2007-10-11T09:24:00.000-07:00

How is it that I cannot keep a perfectly matched red tea kettle on the top of the kitchen stove because it ‘clutters up the place’…and yet Greg is perfectly willing to permanently place a clunky laptop, weather station, and webcam trained on our backyard on the far left-hand side of the kitchen counter to keep up with his happy little weather hobby?

How is that not cluttering up the place?

Not happening.

Not in my kitchen.

The Weather Station

2007-10-11T08:49:00.000-07:00

Today is the day that The Weather Station arrives.

My brother really wanted to get Greg something special for his birthday (he’s hit the big 30 now, BTW), and asked me for my thoughts. I said that though we had a small, $20 weather station…that Greg would love, love LOVE a new, larger weather station with more capabilities….

My brother balked at this. It didn’t appeal to his idea of a manly gift. He wanted to buy Greg a knife, a gun, or some other instrument of death and protection…and that’s just not Greg. So he said he’d think about it while he was out and get Greg something later on. I said that was fine with me.

So he stayed with us…and began to notice just how big weather is in our house. Every morning while making coffee Greg would check the current temperature and announce the low of the night before. He’ll then turn on The Weather Channel and let us know what the high of the day will be so we can dress appropriately. In the evening, he walks by the weather station and see just how hot it got that day and what the temperature is currently…and before bed he watches the Weather Channel again to see how tomorrow is going to go.

And on and on and on…I’ve become used to it, and actually appreciate it because I do dress according to Greg’s weather observations…my brother has never experienced anything like it before, and a few days before he left sighed and admitted that it would be, by far, the best gift he could get Greg.

So he showed Greg a good website that sold a myriad of weather stations….and told him to pick one.

Greg almost died, and spent the next 3 hours solidly researching the most appropriate weather station for our house/location/needs. He chose the one that is pictured here…1 major post, that will communicate wirelessly with the main station inside the house, which will tell us all sorts of helpful information about what’s going on outside. This, in turn, will connect with a laptop which will be dedicated solely to weather-related activities…which will be connected to the internet and will feed information constantly to the Weather Underground site, who will give us our own website so people can check our weather (I’ll attach it to this blog once it’s up).

Oh, we’ll also have a webcam trained on our backyard so if one is really worried that it may not be raining like the website is telling them…well, they can check the webcam.

So there you have it. My brother purchased Greg what is clearly the Best Birthday Gift Ever. Greg’s leaving work early today so he can be there when the package arrives.

And I have a feeling I’m going to be mighty sick of the weather in about 3 weeks.

Of Fall

2007-10-08T08:01:00.000-07:00

My apologies for the delay in getting anything posted to the web lately. My whole family was in town for a while, and then we went on vacation, and then I had a large meeting at work last week…and things were just too busy and I find that much of my humor is sucked out of me during large meetings.

But here I am, back and breathing again . . . and in all that rush and jumble, I was able to see Fall spread over the high Colorado mountains like Joseph’s Coat of Many Colors. When we first began the camping trip the bulk of the color was on ridges above us a few hundred feet. Day by day that ribbon of gold and red crept down the slope, progressing with each cold night, and by the 3rd and 4th day we were surrounded in a place that one could only describe as magical.

We’ve been going to Silverjack since I was 2. It was the place that first convinced me that magic existed; and this year, in all the frustration I’ve had with what I do and where I’m at….it reminded me that not only does magic exist…but sometimes it can completely overwhelm you with beauty and wonder.

The Garage Sale

2007-09-17T15:26:00.000-07:00

So, I’m sure at this point many of you are wondering how the garage sale went. Well, it went fairly well, for a while, then it went not-so-well at all. Here’s the sequence of events:

Friday Afternoon: I call my mom to verify that she and C (my sister) are coming up for the night to help me finish tagging everything that’s piled high in the living room. Mom says that they’ll come up that night, but she has other stuff to wrap up, so it will be a little later in the evening. I conclude that I will be finishing the tagging myself.

I then go out and hang up about 30 bright pink ‘garage sale’ signs I have made around town.

Friday Evening: I tag a bunch of items, bring up a few more things from the basement. Mom and C show up around 8:00 pm, when I’m ready to sit down and veg for a while. I order pizza, we all eat and watch TV. Mom falls asleep on the sofa, C starts drifting off to sleep in the chair – I send everyone to bed and clean up the kitchen.

Saturday Morning: Up at 5:30, shower and dress, wake C and mom up at 6 – we have coffee and begin to take everything outside. 6:45am first customer shows up.

Saturday Morning: 7:00 C leaves. She has paperwork to fill out back at my parents’ house and can’t stay. Fine with me, mom and I wave goodbye, refill our coffee and prepare to have a nice chatty morning on the driveway. Customers are scouting out the place and I’ve already made around $20.

Saturday Morning 7:30: Phone call from C, her car has overheated on the freeway and apparently exploded. Smoke billowing from engine compartment, oil covering everything. She is not happy. Mom calls a tow truck.

Saturday Morning 7:45: Call C to find out exit number so tow truck can come get her. Get head bitten off as she yells hysterically that she’s handling the situation. Promptly get call from Greg who is boarding a plane in California asking why the hell C is calling him for help with the car and can I please take care of this? Garage sale customers are coming and going, I’m up to around $30.

Saturday Morning 8:00: Mom leaves to go pick up C off the freeway and take her back to their house (1 ½ hours away) so she can fill out the paperwork, and then, much like MacArthur swearing to his troops he’ll return….my mother says much the same thing. I go and get a book.

Saturday Morning 8:15-10: Meet many lovely people all-too-willing to purchase my stuff. Having a pretty good haul, even met a nice lady who does housekeeping – may hire her to do my house. Get scattered phone calls from Mom and C….tow truck will be coming in a while, C at home safe and sound, paperwork filled out.

Saturday Morning 10:00: A Frederick Community Services truck pulls up to my front yard and a lady in uniform steps out holding one of my signs like a dead fish. She announces that she has pulled down all but one of my garage sale signs from around town, as it is apparently unlawful to hang signs on public property. . . BUT I can go back around and ask property owners if I can re-establish my signs on their lawns. I decline, she takes my signs and drive off.

Saturday Morning 10:15: Business slumps dramatically. The sun has warmed things up a bit, I continue to sit out with the stuff, fall asleep in my chair.

Saturday 12:00: Get a phone call from Greg, he’s wondering why he just saw my mother on the side of the freeway on his way home from the airport. I call mom – she’s waiting for the tow truck.

Saturday 12:30: Greg gets home, sees the stuff in the driveway, promptly reclaims 5 items and I am given a long speech about how big stereo speakers never depreciate in value. Mom calls, tow truck is there, she will meet us for lunch.

Saturday 1:00: Greg and I break down the garage sale and head off to a Chinese restaurant where mom meets us a half hour later. We celebrate the success of selling off junk and the fact that Greg is home. My total takings for the day is about $117….for 3 hours of work and a nap I guess I can’t complain.

Conclusion: All in all, it was something of a success. I feel really good about it anyways, and I’m still getting craigslist users asking me if I still have this or that item for sale. Regardless of the rather sad sign situation…I have a cleaner basement and a less-cluttered home. I can live with that. C’s car is in the shop having been safely towed….looks like she blew a timing belt and aside from an elevation in blood pressure, she’s fine too. Next weekend I’m sitting back and drinking some beer.

Unhinged

2007-09-13T09:08:00.000-07:00

"All living beings have actions (Karma) as their own, their inheritance, their congenital cause, their kinsman, their refuge. It is Karma that differentiates beings into low and high states."

I suppose this might be true. I was driving home yesterday, and somehow severely ticked off a woman behind me driving a Mercedes. I'm not positive why she was so ticked, but I think when our lane was ending, and myself and another driver merged over - she had been trying to accelerate and cut us off.

Anyways, her reaction was pretty surprising, given that I wasn't even sure of the crime. She was screaming in her car, flipping me off repeatedly with one and and then another, just off the scale as far as reactions go. Thinking I didn't necessarily want to get shot that day...I stayed in my lane, and waved cheerfully as she zipped by, screaming obscenities like a crazy person.

Whatever, I went back to singing to my music and tra-la-la-ing down the freeway.

Until about 5 miles up the road, I see some traffic doing not-normal things, people are slowing down and a car is quickly manuevering to the side of the road. It was her. Crazy Woman. She'd blown a tire....badly. Bits and pieces of it were flying down the road in her wake.

Perhaps the rage was just too much and the universe could no longer contain that energy, perhaps whatever energy you expend you also attract.

Or perhaps life is full of strange coincidences and it was just her day for a flat tire.

I felt badly, but was too scared of her to go see if she needed help.

The garage sale part deux

2007-09-13T07:57:00.000-07:00

Greg has been gone on his trip, but of course we're still communicating by phone and IM. And apparently he's found my ad on Craigslist for the garage sale.

Ring, ring.

ME: 'Hello?'

Greg: "Hey babe, it's me. Guess what? I was searching on craigslist for 'coleman' and found an ad that said they had a garage sale with some camping gear for sale, and I got all excited until I started reading and found out it's MY camping gear!!! haha! It's a pretty good ad, I'm reading it now....(Uh oh, I think to myself) You're selling the area RUG??? I really like that rug, why are you selling it?"

ME: "Well, I don't like it that much and it doesn't match with the living room and that's why I figured I'd just sell it off"

Greg: "I don't know why you would sell it though, we just bought it, I mean...YOU LISTED THE TV?!?!?"

ME: "Yeah, but you agreed to that!"

Greg: "Well I did, but I thought we'd sell it seperately, in a little while. I can't believe you're selling that - what else is going to be sold that I need to know about???"

ME: "Oh, not much...just a few odds and ends, the post is a really good description overall, you know."

Greg: "Well, make sure you get a good price for the rug and TV, I'm really attached to those things, and I really like them and would rather they didn't go anywhere."

ME: "OK"

And then we chatted about other things...but he's been monitoring the cragslist postings ever since - I just know it. I can't wait for Saturday, I sure hope a lot of people show up early...he might just catch the first flight home to make sure the selling doesn't get out of hand. :)

The Garage Sale

2007-09-11T10:13:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I plan on having a garage sale. We have way too much stuff in general, and as I paw through various rooms in the house, I'm astounded at how much we've accumulated over the past 4 years. Greg is gone this week on a business trip, and that is part of the scheduling for the garage sale (though he is aware it's happening). He has this strange attachment to every little household item we own.

I'd already gone through the kitchen (MY territory, he really doesn't do much work in there) before he left, and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth as he went through the various items that were in the 'to go' box. A ladle was rescued, a serving spoon saved, much conversation was had about various bowls until I re-directed his energy and sent him upstairs to clean out his closet instead.

He disappeared for about 4 hours and came back out with a large garbage bag full of clothes that no longer fit him - he's a bit thinner now than he was when we were first married, but still has the larger clothes in his closet. Really, up until a few days ago - his closet spaced dwarfed mine by far. A few clothes turned up in the laundry hamper that I've not seen in a while, and there was an emotional conversation when he wanted to know if I had saved my matching Hawaiian shirt we bought for our honeymoon (no, was the answer - though I did offer to save it for a uqilt someday).

He left on Sunday with a lighter heart and fewer things in his possession, and now I've been tackling the rest of the rooms, chucking more things that we've acquired and just don't use.

It's funny how attached we become to things, and how much those things can get in the way of simplicity.

Our Camping Weekend

2007-09-04T14:21:00.000-07:00

We just purchased a pop-up camper this weekend. It was a heck of a deal, because the guy who was trying to sell it lived about 3 hours out of town…and we got it for about $2200 below NADA. So – off we went to buy it, and we finagled it to where we could pick it up Friday to have an inaugural camping trip over Labor Day weekend.

We went to our favorite camping spot way out of town (there was a LOT of driving last week), and set up camp. Because it’s relatively unknown, we had no problems with space, it was us and 4 other campers (yes, it’s a great spot). But one of these campers didn’t fully understand Camping Ethics. They ran their generator for hours at a time, placing it far away from their spot, but very close to ours with the help of an insanely long extension cord. Greg and I let it slide. They turned it off for 2 hours, and then ran it for another 4…we took a deep breath and decided to go for a quick 4-wheeling trip.

When we returned, they had turned on a baseball game on their car stereo and were blasting it into the forest. Loud, deep, sports-sounding voices and crowds screaming. Far too much noise for any sort of camping ‘peak’ experience.

I was frustrated, and paced around camp thinking whether or not it would be worth going over and asking these people to turn down their noise. Greg and I went over to the truck we had borrowed from my dad to pull the camper (no, we don’t have one of those yet) and looked to see what he had by way of obnoxious CDs that I could use as ammunition. Good ole dad never lets us down in the obnoxious CD category. He travels a lot and had a wide assortment of middle-eastern music as well as a few ‘Learn to Speak Hindi’ CDs.

Greg looked them over critically, and then looked at me.

“I’m going to go over there, and ask them to turn it down. If they don’t, today we’re learning Hindi.

We’re ALL learning Hindi.”

And with that he marched down to their campsite. I watched the gestures, and heard a “SURE! Not a problem, really sorry!” And I suppose I was a bit disappointed, because really, revenge is so much sweeter…initially. But I really didn’t want to learn Hindi, I just wanted silence. And my manly husband grabbed the bull by the horns and dealt directly with the problem rather than indirectly.

Which caused me to look at myself and my actions and realize that I’m getting way too ‘city-fied’ for my own good. And it also made me look at Greg in a whole new light.

And laugh each time I think of the line “We’re ALL learning Hindi”.

A Revelation

2007-08-09T13:32:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, it's the tiny things that can really make you smile. Listerine makes these little spray pumps...I forget what they're called, but they're powerful. It's all part of the agony our culture likes to call ‘Freshening our Breath’.

That whole trend has been rather fascinating to me. I remember growing up gum, tic tacs and those little pink and white peppermint candies were the main tools (aside from brushing) that one could use to keep from offending others when your expelled air was less-than-savory.

Well, SOMEone invented a rather painful mint, marketed it brilliantly, and a whole slew of tastebud-erroding breath fresheners filled up the candy section of the supermarket for the public to buy.

I occasionally am one of the public - little gimmiks, neat packaging, I'm a sucker for such things. Thus, I have this Listerine spray that sits in my car for months on end until I work up the courage (or forget the anguish) and use a bit.

And I've found that it always makes me sneeze. However many times I pump that spray is how many times I can be expected to sneeze. This brought on a bit of experimentation...Altoids (mint) also make me sneeze, as do the really powerful square pieces of gum. Fascinating.

Greg thinks its hilarious, and will often offer to spray my mouth for me (what a gentleman!) and then wait expectantly for the oncoming sneeze. He did that in the car yesterday....and it's crazy how funny something like that actually is.

At least to us.

Four Years Later....

2007-07-27T07:29:00.000-07:00

You know you are (still) in love with someone when, for your 4 year anniversary….you volunteer to go to The Simpson’s Movie…because HE’S a big fan and the producers of the movie thought July 27th was such an auspicious date that they had to release it then.
And really – for such a momentous occasion (the movie – not the anniversary), it’s really much better if you’re in line with everyone else waiting to be among the first to see it.

I remember when we heard this movie was coming out a year and a half ago…and I thought to myself – if he thinks we’re going to see THAT on our anniversary – he’s got another thing coming.

It’s funny how things change, and how you mellow out as even small bits of time go by. It’s only been 4 years, but we’ve come a long way.

Culvers

2007-07-24T14:23:00.000-07:00

My husband loves the fast food chain, Culvers. When we go on roadtrips, he likes to plan our stops around Culvers locations because we don't have them here in our part of Colorado. Their butter burger and the peanut butter shake is enough to make him weak in the knees.

So imagine our surprise when we were driving through a seldom-visited part of our town this morning in search of a quick breakfast sandwhich...and there it was - a brand new Culvers. I didn't notice right away....until, that is, Greg yelled:

"OOOOOOOoooooohhhhhhh MMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!"

I just about dropped breakfast and looked around wildly to get a last look at the oncoming car that was clearly going to take our lives.

But no. It was the Culvers dining facility that caused such an outburst and then an excited conversation.

And then at work, a serious of excited emails.

And now, this evening, guess where we're going out to dinner?

An Internet Forward to Share....

2007-07-12T05:46:00.000-07:00

For whatever reason, this made me laugh, and I had to post it.

Jesus and Satan were having an on-going argument about who was better on the computer.
They had been going at it for days, and God was tired of hearing all the bickering.
Finally fed up, God said, "That's it! I've had enough. I am going to set up a test that will run for two hours; and from those results, I will judge who does the better job."

So Satan and Jesus sat down at the keyboards and typed away.

They typed letters.

They e-mailed.

They e-mailed with attachments.

They downloaded.

They did spreadsheets.

They wrote reports.

They created labels and cards.

They created charts and graphs using PowerPoint.

They used Excel for accounting work.

They did every job known to man.

Jesus worked with heavenly efficiency, and Satan was faster than hell.

Then, ten minutes before their time was up, lightning suddenly flashed across the sky, thunder rolled, rain poured, and, of course, the power went off.

Satan stared at his blank screen and screamed every curse word known in the underworld.

Jesus just sighed.

Finally the electricity came back on, and each of them restarted their computers.

Satan started searching frantically, screaming: "It's gone! It's all GONE! I lost everything when the power went out!"

Meanwhile, Jesus quietly started printing out all of his files from the past two hours of work.
Satan observed this and became irate.

"Wait!" he screamed. "That's not fair! He cheated! How come he has all his work and I don't have any?"

God just shrugged and said, "Jesus saves."

The baptism

2007-07-05T08:41:00.000-07:00

Recently, Greg and I attended the baptism of our neighbor's 5-month old baby girl, Anya. It was a Catholic ceremony, and, having been to a few Catholic baptisms...I wasn't expecting much.

And I'll preface that with the ceremonies I've been to haven't had much meaning, sort of the "ho-hum another baptism" approach from the priests and the parents. And, at one, I asked about the meaning (I wanted to hear from the parents what it meant to them) and they couldn't tell me. Not one bit about if this 'saved' the child or not, if she was consecrated to God now that this was done, why they did it, and whatnot.

I really enjoy the traditions of the Catholic and Episcopalian churches...but I get disappointed when the congregations don't know or care as to what's going on.

So I wasn't expecting much for this baptism either.

And then the priest came out and began talking - and I could tell he really, really loved what he was doing. And in his prayers, I could hear a genuine love for God. And then he took little Anya and began with "Anya, today we, your family and friends stand together and claim you for Christ, and all that is Good and True in this world".

We claim you for Christ....

And he talked of how dark the world has become, and yet how we have these tiny rays of light, these people who can grow into light itself, and here we were claiming Anya's little life for Light and Love at 5 months old. He then had each of us swear something like an oath that we, her neighbors and family would stand in the way of Darkness and shelter this small child from any evil or harm that may come her way. That it was our duty as those closest to her and her parents to protect them from things that would harm or drive wedges into their relationships with each other because the family must remain strong.

He admonished us not to ourselves fall into dispair, for though our path through this world is difficult, the Light we follow is more powerful than any darkness that would claim our joy.

We claim you for Christ....

When we were done, it was through a veil of tears that we left that little church. I thought about tiny Anya, and what our small prayers may have done for her life this day. I can't really begin to guess, but I also think that we underestimate what our prayers and goodwill can do.

The Stingy Cookie Monster

2007-07-02T13:28:00.000-07:00

The other day, Greg had a rough go of it at work….he crashed our company’s main external website and then cheerfully, and obliviously I might add, left to go play volleyball. He came back to absolute pandemonium and much reprimanding. When you are a US Government defense contractor….it really is quite unacceptable to have the main website offline.

So. It was a bad day.

As he flopped on the couch and lamented the fact that he would soon be an unemployed couch potato, I made him chocolate peanut butter chip cookies to cheer him. And they did, very much. He loved that recipe – the cookies were exquisite. So I packed some in his lunch the next day for after the meetings with upper management.

But he ended up going out and he never came up to grab his lunch from me, and thusly it wasn’t until the end of our work day did he remember his cookies. (Side note: We work in the same building. Not the same department, but the same building. I’m upstairs, and he’s downstairs locked away behind strict security access) He asked me to please remember to bring them down for him so he could munch on the way home (His meetings went fine – the managers were understanding and Greg is still employed).

We got to the car and 2 of our friends were also leaving, I asked Greg if he wanted to share his cookies with them, since there were plenty at home. He heard something to the point of ‘Do you want your cookies now in the car?’ and I heard an enthusiastic YES!

So I offered his cookies to our friends and gave Greg a funny look when his eyes POPPED as one of the two cookies were accepted. We smiled and said bye and hopped in the car.

And he didn’t move.

So I inquired as to what was up.

And this was his response:“What in the HOLY HELL inspired you to give away one of my cookies?!?!?!”

And I said “You TOLD me to!!!”
And he said “In 4 years of marriage what of my behavior has EVER made you think I would be willing to share cookies with ANYONE!?!?!”

And I didn’t have a snappy comment for that. So I hollered “YOU are a STINGY COOKIE MONSTER!!!!!!”

So he grumbled the whole way home incoherently about ‘Cookie Rations’ and whatnot, and promptly ate a few more just to comfort him when we got home.

And I went upstairs and laughed and laughed and laughed.

And then wrote this blog so you could laugh too.

Signs and Wonders

2007-07-02T12:59:00.000-07:00

I’ve been working at applying to colleges to find a suitable place to obtain my Masters degree. One of the draws of working at my current position is the fact that my company will help fund such an endeavor, and so – I thought I’d give myself a $10,000 raise and go find a degree program I want.

So originally I was going to get a dual master: An MBA and a Masters of Science in Emergency Management. And I was going to get it from a school that had both a traditional and online program….so off I went down that road. But, before I started classes, my company changed the accreditation policy for what schools they accepted, and my school didn’t fall into that….plus I was rethinking another 3.5 years of school – so I went for another school here in Denver. Very prestigious, I began the application process….Greg graduated from there and the total cost of his degree was around $28,000. So imagine my surprise when I calculated my tuition at $75,500!!!!! Even with my company’s help – I would have to fund this endeavor with my whole salary for the next 2 years. Thus, I promptly dropped THAT program.

And now, I’m currently applying to yet another school – this time in Colorado Springs. The exact same accreditation – and at $25,000 for two years, it seems a much better bargain. But, again, I have to send transcripts, essays, letters of recommendation, application fees, applications, and on and on….

So I told Greg (jokingly) that I thought all this was a sign from God that I wasn’t supposed to go get my Masters and that perhaps I should forget about the whole idea and continue on with my happy little life. He disagreed and said no, God was clearly testing me, and my perseverance. We laughed…and then I had to think out loud on this whole idea. How are you supposed to know what is a test, and what is a stop sign? How many people – when left to their interpretation, interpret it incorrectly and drop out or push on needlessly?

Better yet, is there a wrong choice?

One can only speculate at this point – but it doesn’t really apply to me anyways. I’ll be hard-hearted, or full of perseverance (whichever you prefer) and busy getting my application in.

Open Wide!

2007-06-27T05:39:00.000-07:00

I went to the dentist yesterday for an evaluation. To see what braces could do for me, what kinds of braces there were and, more importantly, how much these braces may cost. . .

I'm getting braces next month.

However, this was after 3 hours of evaluations, impressions (with the goopy ceramic stuff that they say should taste like fruit punch but doesn't), discussions, calculations, and bargaining.

And after all this, I've concluded that orthodontists should NEVER eat onions for lunch. No matter how tantalizing the sandwich.

Of Beauty

2007-06-22T13:32:00.000-07:00

She Walks in Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

~Lord Byron

This week, my grandmother is ending her battle with kidney failure and old age in general and is getting ready to head home beyond this world where my grandfather and her Savior has been waiting for her.

And its time. She is tired, her body has given out, and she is at peace with going. And yet, I look at her and her life and her sweet personality and the memories we've had with her through the years and I'm saddened. Not hopeless, but saddened.

Because when we lose bright stars like her, the world becomes just a bit more gray.

Of Dancing

2007-06-20T04:56:00.000-07:00

This past Friday, Greg and I started taking ballroom dancing lessons. It only took 5ish years to convince him (even our wedding wasn't much of a motivating factor) but proves the saying "If at first you don't succeed; try, try again".

We signed up. And so inspired 2 of our neighbors that they and their spouses signed up too. And off we went to our first night.

When we arrived, we had to wait outside as the last class finished up Salsa lessons. As they all filed out, one guy was near to staggering, and he took a deep, shaky breath and admonished our group: "Prepare yourselves, it's brutal in there". I could feel fear start to creep into the hearts of our men. But, we as women were undaunted, and we led them to the dance floor to commence with our training.

We started off with the two step, and aside from the fact that I was using my hand-hold on Greg's right arm to attempt steering him around the dance floor, that went really well. . . until the dance instructor saw what I was doing and quickly admonished me and then made the whole class do an exercise in posture and resistance in you ballroom 'stance'. Chagrined, I made more of an effort to follow, and not lead, but by then we were learning the tango and I could barely keep up, let alone boss the situation around. Greg had a rather difficult move that involved him turning around me, while I stepped in between his legs, and then we both do another turn, and end up going back the same way we were coming from.

It looks amazing, but is difficult. And when both of you as dance partners are rather tall, you tend to make up a lot of ground practicing this move.

And so we started lapping people left and right - careening down the dance floor one way, my cheeks flapping in the wind as Greg whipped me around and I felt the awesome power of G-forces, and then it was back down the other way with much the same speed and length of stride. I could see the fear on our friends faces as we bore down on them, and as they anticipated our approach they would lose focus on their own steps and stomp on a few toes. Before you knew it we were back down the other side of the floor, terrorizing complete strangers, most of whom would not stand their ground and choose instead to scatter in front of us like frightened chickens.

It was awe-inspiring to feel the power our tango had on the group and not even the dance instructors could put us on the right track - we were a Force Unstoppable by mere man.

We were a giggling Force Unstoppable by man.

And afterwards the 6 of us went out and had some beers and dinner, and recounted the harrowing tales of trying to dance together as couples, and the strange parallels it bore to an actual relationship. Who was willing to lead, who was willing to follow, who could hold their posture with resistance, who was a limp noodle....and I think it's a good thing we're all taking this class together. Perhaps all young couples should be required to work together in this manner.

Either way, we're all looking forward to this coming Friday, when we get to learn 4 more sequence of steps, and hopefully, are a bit better (and maybe slower) than we were last week.

Of Walking into Doors

2007-05-31T15:03:00.000-07:00

I'm in Orlando for some new employee orientation with my company. It's not been much of a picnic. I was supposed to stay for 3 extra days to hang out with a family member who has been having a rough go of it lately, and at the last minute plans went up into the air...and stayed that way for 2 days. I finally had to call and see what was going on...and was told to rebook my flight and leave 3 days early because the family member could no longer see me.

So I did. And by re-booking I threw corporate at my job into a tizzy because I have to pay about $150 to change the ticket...but they're unsure of how to get that money back into their account.

So they've been on the phone, and I've been on the phone, and I've been on the email, and sending emails, and somewhere in there actually getting oriented on what it means to be an employee here....

And today, on a break, while I was talking on the phone I disinterestedly watched one of my fellow new employees head outside for a smoke break. But, something amazing happened here. Rather than take one of the obvious doors, he went straight for the window with the etched 'M' in it between the doors, and then, rather than putting his hands in front of him to push the door that wasn't there...he instead just walked full-tilt right into the window.

And fell back dazed and confused as to how this had all just happened. Not to mention embarressed that he was sitting on his butt in the lobby rather than outside where he had intended to be.

And rather than laughing at him (though it was a bit funny), I quickly turned away so he wouldn't know I had seen his blunder...because I felt a pang of empathy with him. In that one move he had summed up my whole Florida trip.

And I'm ready to go home.

Living Life Deliberately

2007-05-21T05:49:00.000-07:00

There's something about living deliberately that is very, very difficult. I had some moments of clarity on vacation those few weeks ago, and one of them was about some sort of a purposeful life. Getting to work at a specific time, every day, tracking how much time I spent watching TV, how cooking once again was slipping into a 'whatever will take less then 20 minutes' mode, how I was missing all my outside time now that the weather is warming up...those sorts of things.

As Janet Luhrs says:
"Simple living is about living deliberately. That's all. You choose your existence rather than sailing through life on automatic pilot."

And I've felt very much on auto-pilot these last few months.

So the first course of action was to begin waking up at 4:00am consistantly, so we could be at work by 5:30, and be able to leave by 3:00, leaving plenty of time in the evening for dinner, yardwork, conversation, and the VERY occasional television show - such as Heroes or House. This has also included going to be at 9:00pm every night to ensure plenty of sleep is had before the next work day.

We're now into 14 out of the standard 21 days to make something a habit, and it's getting much easier to roll out of bed when that alarm goes off. Going to bed promptly is still something of a challenge, but it's happening (it's the falling asleep part that's difficult), and life is becoming much more ordered.

I've been a bit surprised by how much time we're getting back by doing this. Even the simple act of going to work early cuts our commuting time down by a half hour each way - a full hour each day reclaimed, not to mention all the TV time that has been regained as well.

Though it's not felt great some days - for the most part it's been amazing how much things change when you decide to be purposeful, and then resolutely stick to it. Even when there are plenty of reasons why you don't have to.

Of Gardening and Spring

2007-05-18T04:36:00.000-07:00

I love to shop. I suppose I'm much of a typical girl in that sense, I can spend hours and hours and hours browsing, looking, touching, and perhaps even eventually buying.

When I wasn't in my conference in New Orleans last month, I spent every free minute walking and shopping all throughout the French Quarter. I just love it.

Two of my favorite things to buy are books and plants, and now that spring has finally arrived in Colorado, I have started purchasing plants with reckless abandon. My planter boxes overfloweth, my mini whiskey barrel is a work of art and my hanging basket is all a-froth with pink flowers. My back garden is the repository for all things bulbs, and seeds and though they are growing....the thing about this form of plant-life is that it takes a while for them to come into their own and really take off.

Like maybe a year or two.

And honestly, who has that kind of time with nothing else in between?!

So last night when we went to Home Depot, as I was browsing for 2 more packs of petunias for the flower boxes. . . I found them. Bright pinks, oranges and yellow Nordic Poppies....called Champagne Bubbles.

I couldn't resist. They went in my cart, as did some Geraniums and Sweet William. Greg sighed and shook his head as we went to check out, another $30 to the backyard...but I was excited. Many girls like shopping for shoes and clothes and other things that stay in their house where no one can see them...but in the summer my garden is something to see, something that brings beauty and life to the Prairie around us.

And I'm rather proud of that.

An Article on my Brother's Platoon

2007-05-11T06:07:00.000-07:00

I have a Google news alert for the 82nd Airborne. Anything having to do with the 82nd that crosses the news wires goes straight to my inbox. I like to keep an ear out for anything that may have to do with my brother (the one on the right in this picture).

This morning, I had a notification, and found this amazing article that is all about my brother's platoon!!!! It really doesn't get any more specific than this. My brother is from Company D, 2nd Battalion, 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 4th Brigade Combat Team, 82nd Airborne Division....and the guy Cox, who is interviewed is one of his good friends!!!!

So my morning was very cheered. Though you have a general idea of what the guys are doing there (fighting the war, eating, sleeping, waiting for packages, etc....) this gives such a great glimpse into something that's their every day life. Something that isn't full of death.

So, this morning, here's to my brother and all the amazing things they're doing over there - including revamping their FOB!

Of Grasshoppers, Gardening, and Cell Phones

2007-05-10T05:38:00.000-07:00

I was out in my garden yesterday, attempting to pull out all the weeds that grew voraciously in the 3 or so weeks that I was gone. My little calico, Cider, enjoys gardening with me, rolling around in the dirt or laying on some weed to protect it against my vicious onslaught (she likes the shade, and my real plants right now are still puny). So that’s what we were doing, I was pulling, she was guarding.

Then my brother called, and we talked for a minute. In that minute, I pulled a weed that had a Biblical-sized grasshopper on it. The grasshopper flew across our lawn, and Cider took off after it. In an amazing show of speed and acrobatics, she jumped up, clasped it between her two paws, and did a somersault hanging on to her prize as she skidded to a stop. Pinning it to the ground, she lifted a paw to check and see what it looked like…and didn’t see anything at all.

At this point my phone, or my brother’s phone cut out – and the call dropped. Cider was meowing desperately trying to find her prize, so I went over to scare it up. Holding the phone in one hand, I bent over on the grass searching for this grasshopper, and didn’t see it. I bent lower, the phone dangled, forgotten, between Cider and I as we scrutinized the grass. I timidly brushed my hand over the lawn, not wanting to touch the monstrous grasshopper…but where did it go?

It was during this tense moment that my brother decided to call back.

My phone was on the ‘Wake the Neighbors’ setting (I had just been out on my bike), and the cacophony of noise that ensued as we were looking for Monstrous Grasshopper was enough to make me jump and drop the phone, Cider poofed out to 3 times her normal size in an attempt to scare off our Thunderous Attacker, and Grasshopper decided to make an appearance at that moment leaping out at me from under cover of long grass.

I’ve never had that much adrenaline run through my veins before. It’s a wonder my heart didn’t stop.

At moments like that – you (and your embarrassed cat) are grateful there was no one there to see you be a complete ninny….and then wishing that perhaps someone had…you blog about it.

Havasu Falls

2007-05-09T05:09:00.000-07:00

This is the amazing picture we captured from the experience. It was beautiful, otherworldly even.

What you don’t see are the hikers behind this picture.

Greg and I were exhausted. Tired of stopping for breaks, we had put our heads down and stumbled on ahead of our group, desperate to get to camp and take off our shoes so we could assess the damage that was so easily felt on our now blister-encased feet. I was close to throwing up, it was around 100 degrees, my shirt was soaked, I didn’t have much left to give, and Greg was in much the same state. We had finally reached the bottom of the Grand Canyon, after a 10 mile hike, which wouldn’t have been that hard if it weren’t for the 40 and 60 lb packs (respectively), the constant downhill (3,000 foot elevation drop total) and the sand that sucked the energy out of you. We had just come around a corner, and our hearts dropped because it was yet another steep, sandy, loose-rock encrusted hill, and we still couldn’t see the campsite.

Then Greg looked up and over, and gaped. I shuffled/slid over to him, and asked what was wrong, then I looked at what he was staring at, and saw this.

And for almost a whole minute we had nothing to say.

It’s amazing how beauty can eclipse pain and frustration, and completely captivate you regardless of surrounding circumstances.

A roadblock in blogging...and moustaches

2007-05-09T05:05:00.000-07:00

Last night, I was feeling a bit creative and had some time, and so I sat down to compose a blog.

And then I was reminded as to why I didn’t blog in the 2 weeks before I left. Blogger has ceased to work on my home computer. Freezes on the login screen. So whatever I blog at home has to go into an email, to send to my work email, to upload when I get in. What a pain, and it’s rather stifling on the creativity nerve. SO, rather than blog last night, I kept looking for blogger help. Not finding it, I ended up surfing and found this instead.

Having convinced myself that I probably wouldn’t top that, logged off and headed to bed.

Oh the places you'll go!

2007-05-08T05:40:00.000-07:00

To whomever may be still reading my blog, my sincere apologies for not posting recently . . . I've been to Grand Lake, New Orleans, the bottom of the Grand Canyon, and Pheonix all within the past few weeks, and my blogging has suffered greatly for it.

The good news is I now have many, many tales to tell of the Great Adventures I've had, and within a few days, once the laundry is done and the packs are finally put away, I will have time to sit down and type them out.

Until then, hang tight, I'll be back soon!

Art is in the eye of the beholder

2007-03-21T05:34:00.000-07:00

So, maybe its the fact that I've had about 3 hours of sleep in the past 24 hours.

Maybe it's the fact that I've been staring at it for 13 of those 24 hours.

It could just be a dumb picture.

It's probably a combination of all of the above; but I'll still say it. Those colorful lines don't constitute Great Art in my humble opinion, and I rather resent those multi-hued lines that I must keep looking at, for they're the only bright thing on the wall.

My First DR Test

2007-03-20T23:36:00.000-07:00

Today, this morning, at some ungodly hour, I am writing from New York as I sit here, supporting a disaster recovery test for my company. I must say that I've thoroughly enjoyed the trip, from the flight up here, to picking up my very first rental car, to seeing my spacious hotel room/suite, to eating out every day, to meeting new people who I work with - just have never met.

A rather fun side-note is that I'm actually visiting two states. Staying in New Jersey, working in New York. Deluxe Deluxe!

There are just a few things which have confounded, or, in some way disappointed, me.

1) Though this is a simulated test, which we would perform after some large emergency had occurred, wiping out all kinds of computers. . . .there is not the urgency of a disaster situation that I was perhaps hoping for. People still work on their own set schedule, when something goes wrong, they still pass the buck, and it's rather boring.

2) In conjunction with the above point, I think that perhaps if we came up with a rather great scenario. . . something beyond the generalized and rather broad 'a disaster has occured'; people would be more inspired. If they could envision the amazing set of events that took place which wiped out the computers. . . a tornado of historic proportions, an earthquake that shook a previously geologically stable area, a volcano where previously there were none. . . . .but (and perhaps this is a sign of wisdom that comes with age and experience) I'm starting to believe that not even that would wake up the general corporate America sense of urgency.

Whatever, moving on to:

3) I appear to be in the completely wrong part of the state to have a sighting of the Jersey Devil. That mythical beast that was supposed to be born in the 1700's out in New Jersey - the 13th child of Mrs. Leeds who said that she'd rather have a child of the devil rather than bear another child to Mr. Leeds (marriage counseling wasn't as en vogue back then, apparently). Thus, the Jersey Devil was born, turned out to be a child of the devil, gobbled up the other Leeds children, flew off into the forest and has been making random appearances throughout the southern part of the state ever since.

But, apparently no random appearances where I'm at. . . thus, a wee bit of disappointment. No point in coming all the way out to New jersey without, at least the HOPE of a sighting.

Ah well, c'est la vie. I suppose another fabulous breakfast, lunch, dinner and comfy bed will dull that pain.

It's a Mysterious Universe

2007-03-13T14:43:00.000-07:00

So, during the day at work, I love to fill my head with some fun information. I won't call them facts, because they're not. . .I delve into the world of the paranormal and listen to my boy, Benjamin Grundy dish out all sorts of fabulous information that keeps me highly entertained.

Some highlights that I've thoroughly enjoyed:

The Dibbuk box which has cursed every person who owns it, and an interview with the present-day owner who keeps it locked in a university storage area so it won't hurt anyone else.
Discussion on how crucial Apollo mission tapes have been 'lost' by NASA, furthering the conspiracy theory (which I believe) that we never landed on the moon.
Various Bigfoot sightings/reports. The best one being that Bigfoot are actually inter-dimensional beings/shamans who are here to protect the earth . . .or are controlled by aliens. Hard to say which.
The interview with Joshua Shapiro, who has a few ancient crystal skulls (a mystery how they came to be), and they talk to him and tell him things. One, in particular, calls him 'daddy'.
Shadow people and alien abductions.
Chupacabra - tiny little bloodsucking beasties who live in South America and which only the locals have been able to see. Or seen signs of in their flattened goats and chickens.
Hollow earth theory. (Hitler was actually big into this one, and some people believe he escaped into the center of the earth after his scientists discovered the entry point . . .near the North Pole if I recall that one correctly)
The Serpo project. A top secret exchange program of twelve US military personnel to Serpo, a planet of Zeta Reticuli, between the years 1965-78. Which, some people believe is actually a disinformation project more than anything that covered up the original exchange project. Read that again if you don't understand.
Multi-dimensions/Parallel universes.
Reptilian entities and their dwellings just under the crust of the Earth. Alleged interviews with them, and stories about them. (they're the evolutionary equivilant of us, but they come from dinosaurs, not monkeys)

See?! How can one possibly stay bored in a cube with all this stuff just pouring into your brain!?

Yes, I listen to a number of other podcasts; sermons, skeptic magazine's podcast, podcasts about money, all that. . . but this one is by far the most entertaining.

As that's rather preoccupying my brain today, that's what you get as a blog. :)

Too much of a good thing. . . .

2007-03-06T08:44:00.000-08:00

Is a bad thing.

After much running - outside, and inside. Short distances and long distances. I've had sore muscles and weight gain all in an attempt to be fit. . .

And now, ladies and gentleman, the final insult to injury. I have a stress fracture on my foot, and can no longer run. How, you ask, does one get a stress fracture? From running too much after living a sedentary lifestyle.

The true irony is that I nearly jeopordized the very trip I was training for. But I have exactly 8 weeks to heal before the trip and the doc sees no problems with that. I can continue training on the bicycle.

So though it's severely derailed my last week and a half of exercising - I'll be back on the wagon, (or bike as it were) tomorrow to try again.

Flat Lawning

2007-03-01T10:56:00.000-08:00

The snow has finally melted off of our Colorado lawn, it's been about 2 and a half months since we've seen it. While it's good to see our lawn again. . . it's not very attractive as it's trying to recover after all the weight that's been on it. One may, in fact, call it very, very flat.

Which is driving Greg nuts as we had the nicest lawn by far this past summer and one of his favorite pastimes is to obsess over how to make it look better.

So he proclaimed to me last week that perhaps he would get the lawnmower out of the garage and make a few passes over the flat, dead grass to, (and this is a direct quote) "Fluff it up a little".

I said no, that probably wasn't a great idea.

I almost said it with a straight face too.

The Perfect Crime

2007-02-26T08:40:00.000-08:00

This is what I awoke to Saturday morning.

Above is a picture of a badly mangled catnip plant. Dirt all over my counter and my sink (not to mention bits of catnip plant joyously sprinkled all over my kitchen), and there, right next to it - my cat's collar with her name tag perfectly visible. This picture was taken exactly as I found the crime scene. Not sure how her collar came off there - but I suppose catnip does crazy things.

It was the perfect crime. . .

If you really didn't want to mess with guessing about which cat was the perpetrator.

Of my Great Expectations. . .

2007-02-22T13:52:00.000-08:00

Today was a panicky sort of day.

I woke up this morning as we all do, and I prepared for work. It’s a rather new job, and though I graduated with a degree in Geography and Environmental Studies. . .I’ve managed to work for an oil company and now a defense contractor in my short, rather ironic, professional life. I don’t like this job any more than the last, and am gritting my teeth working here so I can get my masters paid for.

This morning, however, was not a morning full of reason as I realized just how little my job did to make a difference in the world and how much I hated sitting in a cube. I looked at Greg a bit wild-eyed and suggested that perhaps I could join the Army, and train to become a medic, so I could then go to school a while longer while I was out to become a doctor, and THEN after starting a family practice, I could join Doctors without Borders and really make a difference in third-world countries.

He, of course, calmly listened to everything I said and stated if that’s what I wanted to do – he would be OK with it, but today we needed to get to work and if I could please get in the car now…

*sigh*

And then I realized while I’m sitting here at my cube staring at my pink walls and watching silly putty droop off of the side of my computer monitor that I could really go help any of those causes right now, but the courage required to walk away from a steady, good-paying job for something that is emotionally more rewarding and financially foolish… is more than I have.

To a lesser extent I’m too attached to money ( or rather, what it can provide) to just give away quantities (large or small) to these causes…

Heck, I’m not even willing to give up a few hours a week to volunteer in my community…

I suppose my life would be a bit easier if it weren’t so full of contradictions.

Things I'm grateful for

2007-02-21T06:49:00.000-08:00

A husband who will go to breakfast with me in the high hopes that we'll start a revolutionary bible study. . . and then who says 'it's not a big deal' when no one shows up.

The travelling fat. . .

2007-02-19T09:31:00.000-08:00

The first week of May Greg and I are heading down into the Grand Canyon for a week long backpacking trip. I'm VERY excited about it, and though I'm not overweight, I'm also not incredibly fit, so I've been working on that to prepare for this summer.

Over the past 4 weeks, I've been running, lifting weights, eating healthy, and counting the calories. Rather than start Jan 1st with an unattainable New Years resolution - I started more towards mid-January with a slow beginning that has been picking up speed ever since. I feel healthy, vibrant, and quite victorious as it's steadily becoming habit rather than obligation.

And while I've lost nearly 3 inches off my waist - I've also gained 4 lbs.

And stop with that 'muscle weight' talk. I've heard it before and let's just be honest with each other. As I'm not training for the weight-lifting championships and I'm not drinking muscle builder, 4 lbs is a bit excessive.

But, there's still the issue that I lost 3 inches off my waist.

I have no idea where this fat is deciding to travel to - hopefully here in a few more weeks it will have no choice but to shrink down. Until then - salads ahoy!

Off the Deep End

2007-02-16T13:36:00.000-08:00

At work the other day, I met a guy who identified himself to me as a Christian. I myself am a pastor's daughter; and no matter how long and convoluted our past may be together, I still believe in and love God. We're just in the middle (or maybe the beginning) of a long process trying to define what that means.

So I don't attend church regularly - I find it to be stuffy and for the most part not authentic.

I consider myself to be spiritual, and I'm very gun-shy of religious people.

I do read the bible quite a bit, but I also read books from psychics, critics of the bible, books of the bible that weren't canonized, books about the books that weren't canonized, scientific books. . . just about anything and everything that contains scraps of knowledge I read and think about.

And where does this get you?

For the most part it turns your brain into a highly knowledgeable pea soup. A conglomerate of ideas, many of which contradict each other and it makes it difficult to formulate your own ideas. So while I know a lot about many things, I don't have real solid opinions one way or the other.

I don't even know if that's a bad thing. I don't think it is. Seems that too much of our more deplorable world history has been wrapped around people holding too tightly to a solidly held belief.

But, back to my co-worker. We got to talking about Christianity (the rhetoric of which I am too familiar with) and he mentioned that he and his friends wanted to start a bible study here at work where we could start asking some hard questions, toss around ideas. I thought this was a really good idea, and volunteered to help lead it (it is, after all, in my blood). I suggested next Wednesday, as it is Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent, which I like to observe even though I'm not Catholic. So I threw together an email with some ideas, and it included these paragraphs:

"Maybe these questions are a good place to start:

What unhealthy patterns do I see in my life during the past year?
What relationships need reconciliation or my new or renewed investment?
How can I improve my relationship with God?
In what ways can I join God in healing and restoring the world?

I know we don’t really know each other, so I think our first study should be just a get to know you sort of time. We can throw around these questions, but I also don’t want to get too personal if it makes you uncomfortable. Really, they’re good questions for personal reflection and journaling if you like to do that sort of thing."

Immediately the response was that the questions were too personal, and maybe the only one we should bring up (if even) was the last one.

Now, I don't fault people not wanting to share deeply intimate parts of their lives at a work bible study, but at the same time, if we're not willing to ask those questions - how can we even begin to work on the last one?

Off to War

2007-02-15T13:57:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm writing this because my brother, John Craig, has left to go join the fighting in Afghanistan. He's in the Army, 82nd Airborne division and though we all said goodbye in December, I had sort of kept it in the back of my head that I would fly out and say goodbye one more time before he left.

Schedules and money prevented me from doing so, and to be absolutely honest I don't think either he or I really wanted to go through that last goodbye before he left. And so we did it over the phone. When he had landed in Maine. It's funny how conversations like that are so mundane, when really you want to say something much more important . . . but if you say it then you just might be acknowledging just how serious this all really is - and no one wants to do that.

So we talked of books, and of his new address, and how vets were there at the airports handing out phones for our troops to dial home one last time before they left for parts unknown as well as food to keep them comfortable during their flight. Their kindness touched John and his buddies. That these older men would take the time to drive to Maine to say goodbye to younger men they don't even know. . .

And, finally, it was with a heavy heart that I got off the phone with my brother, and said that last 'I love you' and 'Goodbye'. I'mcertain we'll speak again on the phone sometime within the next 16 months while he is there, and I'm also pretty sure that my brother will be safe. But there's something strange about that last goodbye when your loved one is leaving the relative saftey of your home country. Something that has to do with trusting that everything will be OK that makes it especially difficult. Something about knowing that the next time you see him he will be 2 years older than he is right now and that life will have shaped him in ways you will never know about or be able to share with him.

Of Trains. . .

2007-02-06T15:38:00.000-08:00

I subscribe to National Geographic Traveler. It lets me live vicariously through it's contributors as I read each glossy page, each inspiring, scary, or gross adventure, and helps me keep a check list of places I should go (and perhaps not go) visit.

Last month, there was a story on train travel and the charm of it that made me very nostalgic. I used to live in India, and we would travel all up and down the coast by train. We would go Second AC class. Which was the higher end of second class because you got, well, an air conditioner to keep you cool during the heat of the day. We would rent out 2 compartments. Each compartment had 4 beds/seats, bunkbed style, and a table between the two opposite the door.

You would provide your own blankets, pillows and whatnot to keep you comfy.

It would be days before you'd reach your destination, and the cl-clack click clack click of the train as you meandered along the countryside was hypnotic. Through jungles and mountians, rice patties and deserts, villages and cities, warm sunrises promising a hot day and cool sunsets blanketing the land with darkness.

You see much more by train than you ever would with a plane, and the food is much, much better. At every stop the car would be swarmed with vendors selling creamy chai, hot frothy coffee, fresh omlets wrapped in banana leaves, curry and rice . . . and the food was all quite safe because it was cooked right there in front of you, all fresh ingredients. I've never eaten better than when I was train traveling.

You meet interesting people. At stops, beggars also swarm the train with their children, desperate for money, the third class passengers get out to stretch their legs, and you see how cramped it is in third class vs. second (we never tried first) When the train is going, you can visit with fellow travelers and see what they're up to, if they have anything interesting going on in their cabin, perhaps a musical instrument or two that they would play. . .

It's great. And I would highly reccomend it. The cultural experience alone is worth the trip, but the landscape and the food is breathtaking.

Sir Howard Thomas the Gray

2007-02-02T14:12:00.000-08:00

My good friend Robyn adopted a kitten after she lost her cat of 20 years. Howard Thomas is this new little kittie's name, and when he first was adopted, he was near death. Almost euthanized at the pound because he was so sick with a respitory infection.

Robyn's good deed is that she took him in, and nursed him back to health. I got to help out for 10 days when they were out to Hawaii, and he was at death's door. He was steamed in the shower to help free up his breathing. Medications 2 times a day. Gentle playtime so he wouldn't be bored, but also wouldn't get his heart rate up and start gasping for air. Praying that this poor little thing wouldn't die.

And he didn't.

All those meds worked, and his breathing cleared up, his eyes got brighter, and he got a spring in his step and a viscious bite in his jaws.

Yes. . .a bite.

Sir Howie has turned out to be one of the most bitey, gnawy cats I've ever met. He's also rather calculating, like a Raptor from Jurrasic Park, he waits until the right moment to spring out from behind furniture and plants to attack. Poor Robyn. You'd think he'd repay her with kindness, but apparently he has a lot of exuberance after missing out on some kittenhood.

Sometimes, cats can just be darned ungrateful.

Heat for the winter. . .

2007-01-30T15:20:00.000-08:00

It's roughly the size of a motorcycle.

It can heat a space of 2,900 square feet in 30 minutes.

It has a 14 gallon tank that runs on kerosene or diesel.

'Rugged' were the words that described the tires.

It's Red.

We've named it Big Boy.

Yes ladies and gentlemen, we just purchased an insanely impractical garage heater for my husband! It is really much too big for our 3 car garage, but it was half-off, it's COLD in Colorado right now, and we're both a little stir-crazy from having to stay inside every weekend for the past 7 weeks on account of snow.

As we left with our purchase rolling on a super-large cart out of Lowes. . .the men working there gazed fondly at it and made comments.

"That's the last one! What a price!"

"That will keep you warm!"

"That's a real nice heater you got there."

"You enjoy working in your shop now!"

Greg chest couldn't have puffed up any bigger and he walked with a John Wayne swagger as he waved and smiled to those Lowes men.

This weekend our neighbors came home with a brand-new beautiful baby girl, and boy were they proud. But... I must say, they don't hold a candle to Greg and his Big Boy!

A time for lights. . . .

2006-11-21T07:10:00.000-08:00

This past Sunday Greg and I put all our outside Christmas lights up - it was a beautiful day, in the 60's, and rather than see Greg perish as he put them up in cold ice and snow. . . we put them up on this fabulous day.

He did all the roof lights - we choose big, multi-colored bulbs to line every single eave - and I did the 4 little trees in our yard. He bought roof clips to attach the bulbs to the gutter just perfectly, and rather than using them every foot or so as a normal person would do - he used 1 clip per light so that each bulb would stand up perfectly. (That's the difference between a normal person and a perfectionist)

At the end our house looks like a little rainbow porcupine, and the lights are perfect and precise, by God. Last night we got home from work, changed into our pajamas, and bundled up to see how beautiful our home was lit up. Greg flipped the switch with a relish, and came out to join me in the street.

And it was at the exact moment that he turned around to behold his creation, that creation played a dirty trick. There, on the right hand side of the foremost eave. . . a blue bulb winked out defiantly.

So we got in early to work today so Greg can change the bulb before it gets dark tonight. A perfectionist's job is never done.

And thus ended the tower light fiasco. . .

2006-11-21T07:08:00.000-08:00

There you have it, all the letters.

The tower lights now blink meekly in the field behind us, everything seems to be working correctly - lights, bulbs, switches, and once again there is peace in the land.

And the final letter - where all was fixed (Letter 8)

2006-11-21T07:07:00.000-08:00

Dear Greg,

Thank you for the heads up concerning the tower lighting. It seems that there are now a couple of flash heads that are significantly brighter than the rest, even at night. These flash heads have new transformers which cause the units to burn a bit brighter, but even so the ones in question are excessively bright. I have a tower crew on site today to test for proper switching of the day and night intensity. They are also going to climb and further investigate the flash heads in question.

Again, I apologize for the inconvenience this is causing. I will update you all when I receive more information. Thank you for your understanding!

Jack

And even though we thought it was fixed. . .it wasn't . . .and Greg wrote another Letter. . . (Letter 7)

2006-11-21T07:05:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. Clear Channel Guy,

My name is Greg, and I am a citizen with frontage to your tower, here in Weld County. I really appreciate you responding so quickly to our concerns with your tower.

I assume that the tower equipment has been replaced by now, and this is why I am writing. In the past, with the old equipment, as well as when you were having crews dim the towers manually, the lighting was bearable and comfortable at night. With the new equipment, that I am assuming has been replaced, the lighting is not as bright as it was when the equipment was malfunctioning, but it is still much brighter than it used to be. Now, I don’t want to be a bother to you and your crews, but is it possible for you to send a crew out at night this week to check and lower the brightness level? It is quite bright now at night, and its penetrating our bedroom blinds again, which can make for difficult sleeping conditions. It is also difficult to be in our backyard again at night, since the flashing lights tend to put spots in our vision. When the lighting is dim, as it was in the past, this was not a concern.

I appreciate your time concerning this, and thank you for your response,

Sincerely,
Greg

To which Clear Channel Replied. . .(Letter 6)

2006-11-21T07:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. Mayor,

I regret the tower light malfunction, and the hardship it has caused. I have assigned a station engineer to be on site tonight and tomorrow morning to manually switch our tower lights to night pattern and back. This will continue until repairs are made, probably in the next day or two.

The failure was in a custom dual photocell module. The parts are proprietary to the system and difficult to procure. We are in the midst of replacing our entire tower strobe lighting system with a state of the art Flash Technology System. The new system controller is much more reliable, and will remotely notify us when the pattern doesn't switch. This project will be complete by year's end.

Please refer your future concerns directly to me, and I will make sure they are addressed.

Sincerely,

Jack

Even I got in on the action. . .(Letter #5)

2006-11-08T08:43:00.000-08:00

Thursday night we had gone to bed with the lights flashing brightly, and Thursday morning at about 2:30am Greg, (who has been focusing much energy on this whole lights thing) nudges me on the shoulder to wake me up.

"Christa?" he says.

I make a non-commital noise in reply.

"Am I dreaming, or are the lights a bit dimmer?"

And it was at that point that I decided something needed to be done about these lights as me waking up every few hours or so with Greg to judge the latest brightness wouldn't be helpful for my work career.

Or, for that matter, our marriage. So I wrote this letter to Clear Channel Communications after being given the run-around on their phone system as I tried to lodge a complaint:

Dear Sir or Madam,

I am writing to complain about the flashing lights just east of my home in Savannah subdivision in Frederick, Colorado. Since these lights have been changed a little over a week or so ago; their bright, strobe-like lights are keeping my husband and me awake at night as the light penetrates through our blinds and curtains. It is completely ridiculous how bright these lights are at night, and we've been forced to sleep in our guest bedroom on the western side of the house on workday nights to escape the 'disco fever' atmosphere created in our bedroom by this tower.

I would request that you do something about this immediately. I can't imagine that this is zone-compliant considering how close this tower is to residential property. The sooner these lights go back to being normal in the evening, the sooner I can sleep in my bedroom. If this were in your backyard, you'd be pretty inconvenienced as well.

Additionally, I tried to lodge a complaint via telephone, but was given the run-around twice by your automated voice system before being hung-up on. That is also ridiculous. I would suggest you change that system to be more customer-friendly for complaints that need to be lodged about your electronics.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

Christa

To which Greg, somewhat appeased, replied. . .(Letter #4)

2006-11-08T08:41:00.000-08:00

I really appreciate it. Thank you so much for getting back to me.

They are pretty obnoxious. You think Flatirons is bad, I saw it from Surrey Ridge coming into South Denver on Saturday night. I was blown away.

I appreciate you and the town working towards a solution. That’s all I am looking for.

Thank you Mr. Mayor. I appreciate your attention in this matter.
Greg

To which the mayor replied. . .(Letter #3)

2006-11-08T08:36:00.000-08:00

Greg,

I am sorry that you have felt that we are not responding appropriately. We have been told that the FCC is the body that should be contacted. I know staff is working on other angles to this problem. I too am bothered by it and observed the towers at Flatirons Mall on Friday night. I agree this is unacceptable and is a community issue as does the staff.

We will continue to look at how I and the town can respond and get help with this. I thank you for your interest and I will be in touch with you once I know more.

Eric E. Doering
Mayor, Frederick, Colorado

Letter #2 to the Mayor of our Town (Oct. 30th)

2006-11-08T08:31:00.000-08:00

Greg wrote this after he saw a link on the town website about the towers that stated:

"The bright white strobe-like lights on the southern radio tower (located to the east of Frederick) have been the cause of many citizen complaints in Frederick and the surrounding areas. Town officials have contacted the Weld County Planning Department and several area communications companies regarding the problem, and all complaints should be directed to Clear Channel Communications, which owns the tower. The Town of Frederick is not responsible for the towers and has no control over their operation."

Which apparently, Greg didn't like. Thus this letter, to our mayor:

Subject: Flashing South Tower East of Town / Concerned Citizen of Savannah Subdivision - Please Help Us -
Hello Mayor Doering,

I am writing you today with great concern regarding the flashing towers east of town. I myself, being a resident of the Savannah Subdivision, east of CR15 and North of Hwy52, am fully impacted by these lights. Not only is this a huge intrusive nuisance to my home, homes of my neighbors, and my ability to sleep, It is now becoming a safety issue in our neighborhood as Halloween approaches, as you lose all nighttime vision when driving eastbound through the subdivision. I fear that if these lights are not detuned quickly, that a child will be struck, as this is a neighborhood full of children.

The note on the website that the town of Frederick is shrugging off the responsibility of these towers to the FCC is completely inappropriate, since our town and its citizens are DIRECTLY and NEGATIVELY impacted by these towers. Regardless of where the towers lie in regard to town limits, the town should be concerned with the well-being, and safety of all of its citizens. Please get involved with this issue, and use any and all influence that the town has in order to get this remedied quickly. There are many residents in Savannah that are counting on you.

I appreciate your time. Thank you

Greg

Letter #1 to ClearChannel Communications (Oct. 30th)

2006-11-08T08:28:00.000-08:00

Clear Channel Tower at 6800 WCR 17 near the Intersection of WCR16 in Weld County Colorado - EXTREMELY BRIGHT LIGHTS - Safety Hazard & Nuisance

Good morning,

I am writing today to complain about the new lighting configuration that began Sunday, Oct 22, 2006. The south tower at this site, Clear Channel Communications, has been changed, and is now EXTREMELY bright day and night. This tower has become more than a nuisance, and is now a safety hazard. It is now difficult to drive eastbound on many different EB routes, including Colorado Highway 52, Main Street, Frederick, Colorado (5th Street), and many smaller residential roads. The tower lights are so bright that you lose visibility as your eyes cannot adequately adjust for nighttime driving. Safety for children in the area as well as wildlife and pedestrians is now a concern, especially with the onset of the holidays (Halloween). These lights need to be returned to their previous brightness ASAP before somebody gets hit.

For the neighborhoods that surround these towers, life has also become difficult. Sleeping with bright lights flashing all night is extremely difficult. It is painful to be outside in the evenings, as the brightness of these flashing white lights is extreme and dramatic. Please take action as soon as you can to remedy this situation, and have this tower repaired.

Please feel free to contact me regarding this issue. It is of the utmost importance to me, since I am directly impacted in a negative manner regarding this tower.

Greg

Explanation of Tower letters to be posted...

2006-11-08T08:22:00.000-08:00

Recently, one of the large radio towers in the field behind our house had its light bulbs changed and its system updated. This would have been fine except the new bulbs are about 1,000 times brighter than the previous bulbs and they were cranked up all the way day and night.

It's hard to exaggerate how bright this made our neighborhood. Visualize lightning striking in the black of night every second or so and I suppose that's the closest picture I can paint you. It was aggravating, and though it bothered me. . .it nearly drove my husband insane.

What follows is the series of letters written from Greg to various officials as he tries desperately to get this fixed. . . and get some sleep. Because they are comical on their own, I'll post them, one at a time with little to no introduction.

Enjoy!