Posts
It is a roller coaster of emotion around here. One minute I'm stressed and pulling my hair out and feeling completely demoralized about the house hunt and the next I'm panicked at the possibility that the buyers will pull out. If you talked to me on Sunday or Monday, I was practically in tears because I was sure we'd made a mistake and I wanted to retract our acceptance. I spent quite a bit of time railing at Josh that the buyers had BETTER not ask us for ONE CENT because I was NOT SELLING, DAMNIT! Today, the day of the actual inspection, I'm a bundle of nerves because I don't want them to back out. I am feeling a tiny bit better about our chances of finding a new house because I found some month to month housing in a nearby town. At least we won't be homeless.
The current plan (if they don't back out, that is) is to close on August 7th, and if we haven't found a house by then, the kids and I will go live with my inlaws for a few weeks (hold me), while Josh stays with a friend near Boston. If we haven't found a house by September, we will move back from the Berkshires to live in the month to month housing so Gabe can start his toddler program on time. That closing date is pretty ambitious, and I'm assuming I won't be able to find another house by then, so our stuff will go into storage for a bit. If I find another house by next week, we may ask them to push the closing back by a week or so, but we're not opposed to spacing the closings out because it will give us the opportunity to save a bit of money.
Of course, all of this talk of spacing out the closings gives me hives because there is too much for me to worry about. I lie awake at nights thinking about interest rates and housing markets and the multitude of ways we may end up being screwed if housing prices go up after we've pulled our money out of the market. I have to talk myself off the ledge every few hours, to be honest.
One step at a time, I guess. I'm waiting to hear back about the inspection (in which they found nothing major, as far as my broker and I are concerned, but you never know with buyers), and I'm methodically checking out houses on my list in the towns we like. My poor children are bored and frustrated, between the house hunting and the rainy, gloomy weather. We can all use some fun this weekend and a small break from the anxiety of the situation.
Oh, and your comments about possibly being pregnant gave me an anxiety attack just imagining it. I'd love another baby, but a pregnancy now would really and truly shoot me straight over the edge without a parachute. Talk about perspective!!!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
disbelief
When I went to the hospital to have Gabriel, I was being induced because he'd had a drop in his heart rate, and when I became visibly agitated, my OB assured me that if the induction didn't go the way we were hoping, the doctors would probably send me home. I spent the first few hours of the induction in a state of denial, and I kept repeating to Josh and to the doctors and nurses that we weren't really having a baby, I was probably going home. After a few hours of this, the OB on call finally turned to me and said, "Honey, you are NOT going home. You are having this baby, one way or another, TODAY." She left the room and I immediately burst into tears, because WHAT THE HELL? We're having a baby?
That is how I feel right now. For the last two weeks I have been telling Josh and anyone else who would listen, that we were just testing the market and would probably not get any offers and this certainly didn't mean we were selling the house. We were just going to try listing the house and see what happens.
One hour after the end of the open house, we got an offer. For asking price. With no contingencies. They only gave us 2 hours to respond in the hopes of avoiding a bidding war, so we accepted.
As my realtor keeps telling me, there are many steps between today and closing day, but I once again burst into tears as soon as she told me the details of the offers because I guess we're selling our house. And I really wasn't ready.
I'm thrilled to have an offer, of course, and thrilled at the possibility of starting over in a new place, but for now I'm weepy and feeling like I'll never love another house the way I love this one. Still, though, we're so lucky to have this opportunity. Let's hope something good is out there for us.
That is how I feel right now. For the last two weeks I have been telling Josh and anyone else who would listen, that we were just testing the market and would probably not get any offers and this certainly didn't mean we were selling the house. We were just going to try listing the house and see what happens.
One hour after the end of the open house, we got an offer. For asking price. With no contingencies. They only gave us 2 hours to respond in the hopes of avoiding a bidding war, so we accepted.
As my realtor keeps telling me, there are many steps between today and closing day, but I once again burst into tears as soon as she told me the details of the offers because I guess we're selling our house. And I really wasn't ready.
I'm thrilled to have an offer, of course, and thrilled at the possibility of starting over in a new place, but for now I'm weepy and feeling like I'll never love another house the way I love this one. Still, though, we're so lucky to have this opportunity. Let's hope something good is out there for us.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
we're screwed on the stainless steel front, though
Oh my goodness, we are REALLY doing this. The house is almost (as long as I don't sleep between now and Sunday) done. The exterior is painted. I finished the basement. I did a small remodel of the downstairs bathroom. I'm almost done painting allllll the trim in the whole house. We redid the ceiling in the living room (with blueboard and plaster) and except for the repainting of the ceiling trim, it is finished. We are decluttering like crazy people. We have rearranged shelves and moved furniture around and taken tons of stuff out. The kids have been thoroughly neglected and watched enough television to last them the year. By God, we have granite countertops, which as you know from watching HGTV, are the cornerstone of a good house.
The papers are signed, we've agreed on a price, and the open house is on Sunday. Now all we can do is wait and see and furiously paint and clean while we're waiting and seeing. If the right offer comes in at the right price, then I guess we're moving.
I still have serious reservations about the whole thing because I really really really love my house. It is so cute and homey and lovely and perfect for us, but the truth is that we are cramped and my parents and inlaws have to sleep on a blowup mattress in the living room when they visit. Josh complains constantly about having the kids toys all over our living room all the time, and I'm tired of having no space to put anything anywhere. Still, though, I'm torn about moving and my one hope is that when we find our next house I won't be so sad.
I have a couple of questions, though.
1. What do you do with valuables during an open house? I am locking up my (very small amount of) jewelry in my nightstand, but what about our laptops and cameras, for example? Am I supposed to take all those things with me?
2. Do I hide the existence of the dogs? Hide their bed and bowls and all that?
3. What about the laundry room? Do I need to have the laundry hampers totally empty of laundry?
4. Do people really look in kitchen cabinets? For now, I'm using the cabinets to hide all the junk I need to get off of the countertops. If someone opens the cabinets, I'm screwed!!!
5. Do I really need to mulch all the flower beds? Wah! I'm too tired!
6. Lastly, would you buy this house? Look! So cute!!!
The papers are signed, we've agreed on a price, and the open house is on Sunday. Now all we can do is wait and see and furiously paint and clean while we're waiting and seeing. If the right offer comes in at the right price, then I guess we're moving.
I still have serious reservations about the whole thing because I really really really love my house. It is so cute and homey and lovely and perfect for us, but the truth is that we are cramped and my parents and inlaws have to sleep on a blowup mattress in the living room when they visit. Josh complains constantly about having the kids toys all over our living room all the time, and I'm tired of having no space to put anything anywhere. Still, though, I'm torn about moving and my one hope is that when we find our next house I won't be so sad.
I have a couple of questions, though.
1. What do you do with valuables during an open house? I am locking up my (very small amount of) jewelry in my nightstand, but what about our laptops and cameras, for example? Am I supposed to take all those things with me?
2. Do I hide the existence of the dogs? Hide their bed and bowls and all that?
3. What about the laundry room? Do I need to have the laundry hampers totally empty of laundry?
4. Do people really look in kitchen cabinets? For now, I'm using the cabinets to hide all the junk I need to get off of the countertops. If someone opens the cabinets, I'm screwed!!!
5. Do I really need to mulch all the flower beds? Wah! I'm too tired!
6. Lastly, would you buy this house? Look! So cute!!!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
we feel strongly about the biting, apparently
Okay, I'm getting the feeling details are important to all of you in the whole biting fiasco, so let's back up for a minute.
1. The biter is 3 years old, not 12-18 months old. Regardless of his age, though, no one is blaming the biter for his actions. He got frustrated or freaked out or whatever, and he has older siblings who beat on him (according to the director) and that is why he lashed out.
2. The director of the program wasn't talking to the mother of the biter. She was talking to my mom, but she made the comment about Gabe taking toys from other kids loudly right in front of the other mother, I assume it was so the other mother would hear. The biting had happened the day before and she'd already spoken to the other mother on that day, and according to her the other mother wasn't concerned and didn't think it was a big deal (the biting, I mean).
3. No one saw the incident leading to the biting, so we are only speculating that the two were fighting over a toy, the director just saw the kid on Gabe's back and Gabe was screaming.
4. I am upset about the actual bite, the same way I would be upset if Gabe fell off the swing set and had a visible welt, scratches and bruise that remained on his back 5 days later. I'm sad it happened to him and I'm sorry he was hurt. I honestly don't even think he realizes he was bitten, though, since it was on his back.
5. I do think it is ridiculous for us to even talk about a 2 year old taking toys away from other kids, because snatching toys is like breathing to a toddler. I'm still working on him not taking toys away from other kids and sharing better, but we've been working on those skills since as far back as I can remember.
6. The director has already apologized profusely and has said repeatedly that of course she doesn't think any child should bite, no excuse for the biting, etc. She says she was just making a comment and it came out wrong. I'm fine with her and although Gabe isn't going back next year (another post for another day), I'd love to send Josie to her in another year.
7. I'm reading the The Pillars of the Earth, and holy shit, this book is awesome. (see how I seamlessly changed the subject there?)
1. The biter is 3 years old, not 12-18 months old. Regardless of his age, though, no one is blaming the biter for his actions. He got frustrated or freaked out or whatever, and he has older siblings who beat on him (according to the director) and that is why he lashed out.
2. The director of the program wasn't talking to the mother of the biter. She was talking to my mom, but she made the comment about Gabe taking toys from other kids loudly right in front of the other mother, I assume it was so the other mother would hear. The biting had happened the day before and she'd already spoken to the other mother on that day, and according to her the other mother wasn't concerned and didn't think it was a big deal (the biting, I mean).
3. No one saw the incident leading to the biting, so we are only speculating that the two were fighting over a toy, the director just saw the kid on Gabe's back and Gabe was screaming.
4. I am upset about the actual bite, the same way I would be upset if Gabe fell off the swing set and had a visible welt, scratches and bruise that remained on his back 5 days later. I'm sad it happened to him and I'm sorry he was hurt. I honestly don't even think he realizes he was bitten, though, since it was on his back.
5. I do think it is ridiculous for us to even talk about a 2 year old taking toys away from other kids, because snatching toys is like breathing to a toddler. I'm still working on him not taking toys away from other kids and sharing better, but we've been working on those skills since as far back as I can remember.
6. The director has already apologized profusely and has said repeatedly that of course she doesn't think any child should bite, no excuse for the biting, etc. She says she was just making a comment and it came out wrong. I'm fine with her and although Gabe isn't going back next year (another post for another day), I'd love to send Josie to her in another year.
7. I'm reading the The Pillars of the Earth, and holy shit, this book is awesome. (see how I seamlessly changed the subject there?)
Sunday, June 21, 2009
at least there was no blood
My son was BITTEN on Thursday at his toddler program.
Now, I know, I know, developmentally appropriate, tons of kids do it, happens all the time, and all that, but I'll tell you, when the head of the program lifted up Gabe's shirt to show me the bite and I saw a hugely swollen, hickey looking circle with teeth marks all around the outside on his sweet little innocent BACK? I could have KILLED the kid. My mother bear instincts kicked in and I could have ripped his head off.
I didn't, though, I kind of gasped and the woman tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal and she said that although she didn't see it happen, she heard Gabe SCREAM. Allegedly, he got over it rather quickly and now all was fine. She didn't want to tell me the culprit, but since Gabe was more than happy to spill the beans, she finally admitted who it was and said she would speak to the mother.
I went home upset, but again, I know this happens, I know it isn't a big deal, and although every time I look at his back it pains my heart, I was okay with the whole thing. Sad about the giant swollen bite mark, but understanding that this is one of those unfortunate childhood things that happens.
UNTIL, the next day, my mom goes to pick Gabe up at the end of the day and both the head of the toddler program and the biter's mom are standing in the doorway talking. As my mom is pulling on Gabe's shoes and grabbing his bag, the head of the program says to my mom (loudly), "Yes, well, we're working on Gabe not taking toys away from the other children because that is why that little tussle happened yesterday." My mom stood there gaping at her, so the director added, "Oh, but Gabe is a good boy. He's a good boy." My mom sat there stunned for a minute, until she abruptly said, "OF COURSE, he's a good boy," and then she stormed off to the car.
When she got home, I could practically see smoke coming out of her ears, she was so enraged. She couldn't believe that the woman running the program would blame the incident on Gabe, and not even MENTION the biting. If she had said they were working on taking toys away and obviously on not biting, it would have been one thing, but to talk about a toddler taking a toy away from another toddler as justification for biting seemed crazy to us.
I ended up calling the toddler program and telling the woman who runs it why we were so upset and she profusely apologized and said it wasn't her intention, it hadn't occurred to her it could be interpreted like that, and she certainly didn't think the incident was Gabe's fault. Regardless, I'm still upset and now it is Sunday night and that bite mark is still red and bruised with little teeth marks all around it (4 days later) and I'm not sure how I am going to put on a happy face tomorrow for Gabe's pick-up and drop-off. To make matters worse, tomorrow is the last day and we're having a little graduation/pot luck party for it, so I have to be social and smiley and make nice with everyone.
Ugh, parenting is hard, yo. Watching your kids get hurt and navigate the world is really hard. I can't imagine what I'll do if he comes home and tells me some kid hit him, or some girl broke his heart, or worse. Tell me you've been through much much worse and survived, please.
Now, I know, I know, developmentally appropriate, tons of kids do it, happens all the time, and all that, but I'll tell you, when the head of the program lifted up Gabe's shirt to show me the bite and I saw a hugely swollen, hickey looking circle with teeth marks all around the outside on his sweet little innocent BACK? I could have KILLED the kid. My mother bear instincts kicked in and I could have ripped his head off.
I didn't, though, I kind of gasped and the woman tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal and she said that although she didn't see it happen, she heard Gabe SCREAM. Allegedly, he got over it rather quickly and now all was fine. She didn't want to tell me the culprit, but since Gabe was more than happy to spill the beans, she finally admitted who it was and said she would speak to the mother.
I went home upset, but again, I know this happens, I know it isn't a big deal, and although every time I look at his back it pains my heart, I was okay with the whole thing. Sad about the giant swollen bite mark, but understanding that this is one of those unfortunate childhood things that happens.
UNTIL, the next day, my mom goes to pick Gabe up at the end of the day and both the head of the toddler program and the biter's mom are standing in the doorway talking. As my mom is pulling on Gabe's shoes and grabbing his bag, the head of the program says to my mom (loudly), "Yes, well, we're working on Gabe not taking toys away from the other children because that is why that little tussle happened yesterday." My mom stood there gaping at her, so the director added, "Oh, but Gabe is a good boy. He's a good boy." My mom sat there stunned for a minute, until she abruptly said, "OF COURSE, he's a good boy," and then she stormed off to the car.
When she got home, I could practically see smoke coming out of her ears, she was so enraged. She couldn't believe that the woman running the program would blame the incident on Gabe, and not even MENTION the biting. If she had said they were working on taking toys away and obviously on not biting, it would have been one thing, but to talk about a toddler taking a toy away from another toddler as justification for biting seemed crazy to us.
I ended up calling the toddler program and telling the woman who runs it why we were so upset and she profusely apologized and said it wasn't her intention, it hadn't occurred to her it could be interpreted like that, and she certainly didn't think the incident was Gabe's fault. Regardless, I'm still upset and now it is Sunday night and that bite mark is still red and bruised with little teeth marks all around it (4 days later) and I'm not sure how I am going to put on a happy face tomorrow for Gabe's pick-up and drop-off. To make matters worse, tomorrow is the last day and we're having a little graduation/pot luck party for it, so I have to be social and smiley and make nice with everyone.
Ugh, parenting is hard, yo. Watching your kids get hurt and navigate the world is really hard. I can't imagine what I'll do if he comes home and tells me some kid hit him, or some girl broke his heart, or worse. Tell me you've been through much much worse and survived, please.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
projects galore
I'll give you a break on the all-the-time-every-second-of-every-day house decluttering/painting/DRAMA AROUND EVERY TURN situation, and get back to the sewing and quilting I was doing before we decided we might move. Now my life is over and all I do is house stuff, but at least you don't have to suffer with me.
Swistle asked about the cost/difficulty/learning for quilts. And to that, I say, ohhhh lordy. This quilt is without a doubt the most expensive piece of bedding I have ever purchased in my life. Part of this is that it is my first quilt, so I purchased too much of every fabric. I even have a couple of yards of one whole fabric because it ended up clashing with my other choices. It won't go to waste, of course, and I have tons of projects in mind, but still. I spent a LOT on fabric. Part of it, however, is that if you make a big quilt, especially a quilt with several different colors/fabrics, you have to buy a lot of fabric and fabric isn't necessarily cheap. This fabric was between $8-10/yard, and I needed a lot of yards. Plus, I couldn't find the monkey fabric in stores so I had to pay shipping from a few different stores, and oh, let's stop talking about it because I'm depressing myself.
Then Chatty Cricket and I took a class from this adorable little quilting store, and that class was totally worth it and I learned so much more than I'd thought I would, but still, it wasn't cheap. I guess I shouldn't figure that cost into the quilt since I'll carry those skills forward in my quilting future, but it feels like part of the cost of the monkey quilt. The class was maybe 8 classes or so (I can't remember exactly) and we'd go there with our fabric and sewing machines and they walked us through the pattern and the process and gave us tips along the way. We would do a part of the cutting or sewing every week and then go home with homework. Maybe this is a little unusual, and I definitely think you could do a pattern on your own and not take a class like this, although we had a blast. We were just laughing about the class the other day because it would inevitably turn into a "stitch and bitch" as the teacher referred to it. We'd jabber on throughout the class and have a blast.
And then in the end I decided to pay someone to do the actual professional quilting of the quilt (putting together the quilt top, batting, and the backing and sewing it all together with a pretty pattern). This quilt is really big and I knew my poor little 25 year old multiple owner machine wouldn't be able to handle it. Plus, I knew the woman would do a fabulous job. I did find the cheapest person around and drove halfway across Massachusetts to bring it to her, and it turned out great, but again, more cost.
The actual process of quilting was easy, though. If you've ever sewn anything with a sewing machine (and my experience is limited and definitely amateur), you can definitely quilt. The class was helpful in learning all the little tips, and in learning how to read the stinking pattern, because unless someone had explained it to me, it would have been like reading Chinese. There is a lot of cutting of little pieces in quilting, or at least in our particular quilt, and while I didn't love that, I did love the actual sewing together. This was very surprising to me. I found it incredibly relaxing and peaceful and almost meditative. I'd press the sewing machine foot down, start running the fabric through, and just zone out. The other night my friend called to see if I wanted to run out after the kids were in bed and see a movie, and I stared longingly at the sewing machine before grudgingly saying yes. I was dying to start some new little projects and lose myself in the sewing, but I get so little time away from the family, I couldn't possibly say no. Plus, buttered popcorn! Cherry Pepsi! No children!
The other thing about quilting that was a little hard, at least for me, is that it isn't instant gratification. You are really putting in the time to eventually receive a finished product, but that finished product is a long time in the making. I think that may be why this quilt took so long. I just lost steam after a few months of working on the same project. Throw pillows or tote bags or blankets are quick project taking just a few hours or maybe a few days. A quilt takes weeks or months (or years, in my case).
I am going to make Josie a quilt, although it will definitely be smaller than Gabe's. More throw sized than twin mattress sized. I am loving the process of picking out her fabrics and I'm really taking my time to find what I think is a perfect combination. The pattern is also going to be more squares and rectangles, less itty bitty triangles to make up a star. We'll see how it goes. As soon as I have all of the fabrics chosen, I'll post with pictures. The main fabric is so stinking cute, I wish I could have something for myself.
Overall, I give quilting two thumbs up. You should all definitely try it. The rush from making something with your own two hands is pretty cool.
But back to my newfound motivation as I mentioned in the post about the quilt... My poor little used sewing machine, bought off of Craigslist for $30, is really showing that it was worth the investment.
The other day on Freecycle, a woman was giving away a bag of old fabric, so I picked it up and picked out what I wanted and donated the rest to a nursing home (for projects, I guess). One of the free fabrics was this cheerful navy blue Marimekko fabric with bright fruits on it. I'd been trying to figure out what to make out of it. Then last week at the fabric store there was a clearance yard of vinyl fruity fabric for $1.50, and I came up with the idea of a picnic blanket.
I trimmed my fruity fabric and the vinyl fabric to match each other, about a yard and a half squared. I sewed them together and made straps out of my cotton fabric, and attached those straps to the blanket so I could tie it closed when it was folded up.
The vinyl fabric is waterproofed on one side and has cotton on the other, sort of like those old tablecloths.
Ta da! So easy! It only took me about an hour to put it all together and now we have an easy picnic blanket. I thought about adding a strap to carry it, but folded up it is pretty small and I always have either a stroller or a diaper bag so I didn't bother. We've already used it a couple of times and it's been great.
Next, I decided to tackle our upstairs hallway situation. The previous tenants had really thick carpet throughout the house, and when we removed that (40 year old disgusting crumbling nasty ass) carpet, we discovered gaps under all the doors in the house. Gaps of at least an inch, sometimes two or three inches between the hardwood floors and the bottoms of the doors. Combine that with very creaky floors, and you have a s-i-t-u-a-t-i-o-n with sleeping children. We tried to remedy the situation by piling all our extra pillows into the upstairs hallway and shoving them against the bottoms of the doors.
We are nothing, if not glamorous, as you can see.
This wasn't the BEST look for an upstairs hallway. Also, in the middle of the night after feeding Josie, I'd often trip or stumble over all the stupid piles of pillows. Worse still, the dogs would decide to sleep on the piles of pillows rather than their bed, and they'd start digging around and accommodating the pillows and making MASSIVE amounts of scratching noises right up against the doorways of my sleeping children and I could have KILLED THEM. Can you tell this whole situation was anxiety-producing? Can you?
I finally resolved this by making little cushions that perfectly fit the door (or are supposed to perfectly fit the doors) in a color that coordinates with our decoration.
And here you can also see another casualty of the big puffy nasty carpets. I should really be painting trim rather than sewing cute cushions.
I made two pillows- one for Gabe and one for Josie, and on Josie's I even got fancy and made a separate little pillow that was flat and attached to the bottom of this pillow. The separate little flat pillow slides under the big gap under the door and makes it a tighter fit.
To make these pillows, I just measured and sewed a smaller sleeve within a larger sleeve. I filled the smaller sleeve with rice (to weigh down the pillow) and the larger sleeve with squishy filler (that is the technical name). Then I closed the ends. The only problem is that I didn't realize that although I'd perfectly measured the doorway, when you stuff the pillows full of the squishy stuffing, they kind of puff up and shorten a little at the ends. So the perfectly measured pillows around now about 1/2 short on either end, but whatever, it is light years better than the piles of pillows. And cute too! If you make one of these, just add on an inch to an inch and a half to your measurements to account for the puffing up factor. These were really quick, like 20 minutes if your machine doesn't keep jamming up and refusing to cooperate.
I have requested a new sewing machine for Mother's Day and now I'm just trying to finalize my decision on which relatively cheap sewing machine I am going to request. If I ever get the house ready and we actually move, I'll need it for window seats and curtains and all that fun!
Swistle asked about the cost/difficulty/learning for quilts. And to that, I say, ohhhh lordy. This quilt is without a doubt the most expensive piece of bedding I have ever purchased in my life. Part of this is that it is my first quilt, so I purchased too much of every fabric. I even have a couple of yards of one whole fabric because it ended up clashing with my other choices. It won't go to waste, of course, and I have tons of projects in mind, but still. I spent a LOT on fabric. Part of it, however, is that if you make a big quilt, especially a quilt with several different colors/fabrics, you have to buy a lot of fabric and fabric isn't necessarily cheap. This fabric was between $8-10/yard, and I needed a lot of yards. Plus, I couldn't find the monkey fabric in stores so I had to pay shipping from a few different stores, and oh, let's stop talking about it because I'm depressing myself.
Then Chatty Cricket and I took a class from this adorable little quilting store, and that class was totally worth it and I learned so much more than I'd thought I would, but still, it wasn't cheap. I guess I shouldn't figure that cost into the quilt since I'll carry those skills forward in my quilting future, but it feels like part of the cost of the monkey quilt. The class was maybe 8 classes or so (I can't remember exactly) and we'd go there with our fabric and sewing machines and they walked us through the pattern and the process and gave us tips along the way. We would do a part of the cutting or sewing every week and then go home with homework. Maybe this is a little unusual, and I definitely think you could do a pattern on your own and not take a class like this, although we had a blast. We were just laughing about the class the other day because it would inevitably turn into a "stitch and bitch" as the teacher referred to it. We'd jabber on throughout the class and have a blast.
And then in the end I decided to pay someone to do the actual professional quilting of the quilt (putting together the quilt top, batting, and the backing and sewing it all together with a pretty pattern). This quilt is really big and I knew my poor little 25 year old multiple owner machine wouldn't be able to handle it. Plus, I knew the woman would do a fabulous job. I did find the cheapest person around and drove halfway across Massachusetts to bring it to her, and it turned out great, but again, more cost.
The actual process of quilting was easy, though. If you've ever sewn anything with a sewing machine (and my experience is limited and definitely amateur), you can definitely quilt. The class was helpful in learning all the little tips, and in learning how to read the stinking pattern, because unless someone had explained it to me, it would have been like reading Chinese. There is a lot of cutting of little pieces in quilting, or at least in our particular quilt, and while I didn't love that, I did love the actual sewing together. This was very surprising to me. I found it incredibly relaxing and peaceful and almost meditative. I'd press the sewing machine foot down, start running the fabric through, and just zone out. The other night my friend called to see if I wanted to run out after the kids were in bed and see a movie, and I stared longingly at the sewing machine before grudgingly saying yes. I was dying to start some new little projects and lose myself in the sewing, but I get so little time away from the family, I couldn't possibly say no. Plus, buttered popcorn! Cherry Pepsi! No children!
The other thing about quilting that was a little hard, at least for me, is that it isn't instant gratification. You are really putting in the time to eventually receive a finished product, but that finished product is a long time in the making. I think that may be why this quilt took so long. I just lost steam after a few months of working on the same project. Throw pillows or tote bags or blankets are quick project taking just a few hours or maybe a few days. A quilt takes weeks or months (or years, in my case).
I am going to make Josie a quilt, although it will definitely be smaller than Gabe's. More throw sized than twin mattress sized. I am loving the process of picking out her fabrics and I'm really taking my time to find what I think is a perfect combination. The pattern is also going to be more squares and rectangles, less itty bitty triangles to make up a star. We'll see how it goes. As soon as I have all of the fabrics chosen, I'll post with pictures. The main fabric is so stinking cute, I wish I could have something for myself.
Overall, I give quilting two thumbs up. You should all definitely try it. The rush from making something with your own two hands is pretty cool.
But back to my newfound motivation as I mentioned in the post about the quilt... My poor little used sewing machine, bought off of Craigslist for $30, is really showing that it was worth the investment.
The other day on Freecycle, a woman was giving away a bag of old fabric, so I picked it up and picked out what I wanted and donated the rest to a nursing home (for projects, I guess). One of the free fabrics was this cheerful navy blue Marimekko fabric with bright fruits on it. I'd been trying to figure out what to make out of it. Then last week at the fabric store there was a clearance yard of vinyl fruity fabric for $1.50, and I came up with the idea of a picnic blanket.
I trimmed my fruity fabric and the vinyl fabric to match each other, about a yard and a half squared. I sewed them together and made straps out of my cotton fabric, and attached those straps to the blanket so I could tie it closed when it was folded up.
The vinyl fabric is waterproofed on one side and has cotton on the other, sort of like those old tablecloths.
Ta da! So easy! It only took me about an hour to put it all together and now we have an easy picnic blanket. I thought about adding a strap to carry it, but folded up it is pretty small and I always have either a stroller or a diaper bag so I didn't bother. We've already used it a couple of times and it's been great.
Next, I decided to tackle our upstairs hallway situation. The previous tenants had really thick carpet throughout the house, and when we removed that (40 year old disgusting crumbling nasty ass) carpet, we discovered gaps under all the doors in the house. Gaps of at least an inch, sometimes two or three inches between the hardwood floors and the bottoms of the doors. Combine that with very creaky floors, and you have a s-i-t-u-a-t-i-o-n with sleeping children. We tried to remedy the situation by piling all our extra pillows into the upstairs hallway and shoving them against the bottoms of the doors.
We are nothing, if not glamorous, as you can see.
This wasn't the BEST look for an upstairs hallway. Also, in the middle of the night after feeding Josie, I'd often trip or stumble over all the stupid piles of pillows. Worse still, the dogs would decide to sleep on the piles of pillows rather than their bed, and they'd start digging around and accommodating the pillows and making MASSIVE amounts of scratching noises right up against the doorways of my sleeping children and I could have KILLED THEM. Can you tell this whole situation was anxiety-producing? Can you?
I finally resolved this by making little cushions that perfectly fit the door (or are supposed to perfectly fit the doors) in a color that coordinates with our decoration.
And here you can also see another casualty of the big puffy nasty carpets. I should really be painting trim rather than sewing cute cushions.
I made two pillows- one for Gabe and one for Josie, and on Josie's I even got fancy and made a separate little pillow that was flat and attached to the bottom of this pillow. The separate little flat pillow slides under the big gap under the door and makes it a tighter fit.
To make these pillows, I just measured and sewed a smaller sleeve within a larger sleeve. I filled the smaller sleeve with rice (to weigh down the pillow) and the larger sleeve with squishy filler (that is the technical name). Then I closed the ends. The only problem is that I didn't realize that although I'd perfectly measured the doorway, when you stuff the pillows full of the squishy stuffing, they kind of puff up and shorten a little at the ends. So the perfectly measured pillows around now about 1/2 short on either end, but whatever, it is light years better than the piles of pillows. And cute too! If you make one of these, just add on an inch to an inch and a half to your measurements to account for the puffing up factor. These were really quick, like 20 minutes if your machine doesn't keep jamming up and refusing to cooperate.
I have requested a new sewing machine for Mother's Day and now I'm just trying to finalize my decision on which relatively cheap sewing machine I am going to request. If I ever get the house ready and we actually move, I'll need it for window seats and curtains and all that fun!
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
sleep is lacking, though
Remember last week when I said Gabe had Coxsackie? Well, now it turns out he has Adenovirus instead, or in addition to the Coxsackie, we're not really sure. It has been about 10 days of symptoms, and he is still whining and crying and complaining most days. He has been specifically telling me his head hurts, or stomach hurts, or mouth hurts, and there is nothing quite as sad as hearing your two year old ask to go to bed because he feels so terrible he doesn't even want to hang out on the couch and watch television. I dragged the two kids to the grocery store to pick up a couple of things and he fell asleep in his stroller (mother of the year over here, obviously).
This is particularly awesome because we had a small party yesterday for Josie's baby naming, and he slobbered all over a couple of the kids who visited. I can't wait to make that phone call to those parents!
I have to write a decent post about the baby naming, because it was amazing, even though the timing stunk. In the middle of all of this cleaning, painting, and decluttering, it was unbelievably difficult to pull together a party, but we did it, and I think it went well. Everyone seemed to have a great time, and although I didn't have the time to spend on the little details I love, we had food and drink and cake and friends, all of which were great. Although I think my mother in law was a bit distressed that I served a frozen lasagna.
Thank goodness my parents are here, though, because they have been able to watch both of the kids while I continue with the house preparations. I'm hopeful maybe we can be ready in about a week and a half, but I'm probably dreaming. The exterior painters started on Friday and they have been scraping and sanding and power washing, so just in time for the party my house looked like it was falling apart, with paint chips and dust and dirt all over the place. I finished painting and cleaning the basement, tiled part of the basement floor, and this afternoon I started in on all the trim. Josh is working around the clock, so the preparations are mainly falling on my shoulders, and I'm not going to lie, this is going to be challenging.
We desperately want to move, but truthfully, I feel as if I am just now getting my head above water after having Josie. This whole moving prospect is putting a serious strain on both Josh and me, and we've been at each other's throats over the last few days. We keep arguing about everything under the sun, from who is doing what, to how we are going to get this done, to where things are under the piles of stuff. It is frustrating, to say the least, and it makes me reconsider this whole idea. For now, though, I'll just keep trucking away on the painting and decluttering and if we decide not to move in the end, then I guess we'll just have a freshly painted and cleaned house. It can't hurt, right?
This is particularly awesome because we had a small party yesterday for Josie's baby naming, and he slobbered all over a couple of the kids who visited. I can't wait to make that phone call to those parents!
I have to write a decent post about the baby naming, because it was amazing, even though the timing stunk. In the middle of all of this cleaning, painting, and decluttering, it was unbelievably difficult to pull together a party, but we did it, and I think it went well. Everyone seemed to have a great time, and although I didn't have the time to spend on the little details I love, we had food and drink and cake and friends, all of which were great. Although I think my mother in law was a bit distressed that I served a frozen lasagna.
Thank goodness my parents are here, though, because they have been able to watch both of the kids while I continue with the house preparations. I'm hopeful maybe we can be ready in about a week and a half, but I'm probably dreaming. The exterior painters started on Friday and they have been scraping and sanding and power washing, so just in time for the party my house looked like it was falling apart, with paint chips and dust and dirt all over the place. I finished painting and cleaning the basement, tiled part of the basement floor, and this afternoon I started in on all the trim. Josh is working around the clock, so the preparations are mainly falling on my shoulders, and I'm not going to lie, this is going to be challenging.
We desperately want to move, but truthfully, I feel as if I am just now getting my head above water after having Josie. This whole moving prospect is putting a serious strain on both Josh and me, and we've been at each other's throats over the last few days. We keep arguing about everything under the sun, from who is doing what, to how we are going to get this done, to where things are under the piles of stuff. It is frustrating, to say the least, and it makes me reconsider this whole idea. For now, though, I'll just keep trucking away on the painting and decluttering and if we decide not to move in the end, then I guess we'll just have a freshly painted and cleaned house. It can't hurt, right?
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
sweat equity
It looks like we may be moving forward with this whole selling the house thing, but as I type that I'm getting a stomach ache. The realtor wants us to list the house ASAP, as in yesterday, and I cannot explain the quantity of stress that has contributed to my life. Josh and I are snapping at each other like crazy because we are so consumed by the monetary constraints and to-do lists and questions of whether we are doing the right thing.
Of course, since I have no time at all and 79 things to get done in that nonexistent time, Gabe made sure to get Coxsackie AGAIN. He's been home from school all week and whiiiiiinnnnnnnyyyyyy. At least his energy level is low also, so we've watched tons of television and taken long naps. While he is doing his movie watching (specifically Happy Feet which is his one true love these days, he would watch it on repeat all day if I let him), I have cleaned out the basement, scrubbed the basement, painted the ceiling in the basement, painted all of the pipes in the basement, painted the walls of the basement, scrubbed the outside patio on my hands and knees, cleaned off all the play structures and tables and chairs outside, and weeded through tons of junk. Tomorrow I am applying a floor paint to the basement floor, doing all of the trim in the basement, painting the stairs, and carpeting the basement. What? Did you think I sat around all day?
My mother in law is here and helping also, THANK GOODNESS.
I think we feel good about our plan to list the house and settle on a number that we won't go below, and if it sells, it sells. If it doesn't sell, we absolutely don't mind staying in the house for at least another year. In another year maybe the market has improved, maybe Josh will get a raise, and we will have one less car payment. That would be a good time to sell too.
I'm off to bed until I start it all over again tomorrow. I only wish I'd taken some before pictures of the disaster that was my basement, but I'll make sure to take some "afters". My future home buyers better appreciate this!
Of course, since I have no time at all and 79 things to get done in that nonexistent time, Gabe made sure to get Coxsackie AGAIN. He's been home from school all week and whiiiiiinnnnnnnyyyyyy. At least his energy level is low also, so we've watched tons of television and taken long naps. While he is doing his movie watching (specifically Happy Feet which is his one true love these days, he would watch it on repeat all day if I let him), I have cleaned out the basement, scrubbed the basement, painted the ceiling in the basement, painted all of the pipes in the basement, painted the walls of the basement, scrubbed the outside patio on my hands and knees, cleaned off all the play structures and tables and chairs outside, and weeded through tons of junk. Tomorrow I am applying a floor paint to the basement floor, doing all of the trim in the basement, painting the stairs, and carpeting the basement. What? Did you think I sat around all day?
My mother in law is here and helping also, THANK GOODNESS.
I think we feel good about our plan to list the house and settle on a number that we won't go below, and if it sells, it sells. If it doesn't sell, we absolutely don't mind staying in the house for at least another year. In another year maybe the market has improved, maybe Josh will get a raise, and we will have one less car payment. That would be a good time to sell too.
I'm off to bed until I start it all over again tomorrow. I only wish I'd taken some before pictures of the disaster that was my basement, but I'll make sure to take some "afters". My future home buyers better appreciate this!
Friday, May 29, 2009
this stuff only happens to me
We have a broker who is a family friend, and we used her when we bought our current house. She came over yesterday to do a whole market analysis and give us advice on what to do to the house before we can sell it, and to talk us through whether we should sell it at all. She was incredibly helpful, and I'm 99.9% sure we are going to use her, but I keep hearing that we should get another opinion, another set of eyes on the house.
My neighbor's house sold in less than a week just a few months ago, so I decided to give her broker a try. That broker is someone I've run into numerous times, she lives right in the neighborhood, and she seems to be a high seller and power player in my town. I thought her opinions would be good ones.
I called the brokering firm and asked for her, let's call her Judy Whazhername as a pseudonym. They connect me to her, and I start saying that she sold the house across the street from me, I've met her before, blah blah blah. She doesn't comment on any of those things, but she does say she'd be happy to come by and give me an estimate and talk house selling tips and estimates. I say great, and I clean like a crazy woman for her arrival today at 11am.
I open the door promptly at 11am, and a woman I have never seen before is standing there. I'm a little thrown off when she holds out her hand and introduces herself as Judy, but then I realize there is another woman behind her who looks somewhat like what I remember Judy looking like. She introduces her as Martha, but I am so confused by the whole thing (and sleep deprived, remember), I assume I've misunderstood and Judy is the other woman and this one is Martha. I'm still a little thrown because Judy looks slightly different, but close enough, short blond hair, same build, tall, I figure I'm just mistaken.
Anyway, we start the whole tour of the house and they are a little timid for my tastes. I am looking for some serious opinions/advice since this is my first house sale, and I really want you to tell me what to do. Tell me exactly which books you would move, which chairs and furniture and curtains you would switch around. Tell me my closets are too cluttered and my cabinets need work. Whatever, just guide me and I'll do it, no questions asked.
We would go into the bedrooms and they would just stand there and admire from afar, and that was a little annoying to me also. I want you to ooh and aah over my beautiful closet and tell me my son's room is adorable (which is what our other broker did), or say you hate it. Regardless, we get through the whole tour and settle into the living room for their appraisal.
She hands me a booklet and I read out of the corner of my eye that the name at the top of the listing analysis is Judy Whozhername, NOT Judy Whazhername whom I was originally looking for, and suddenly everything becomes abundantly clear. But what do I do now? We've just finished the whole tour, they've prepared this whole analysis, and it is so AWKWARD! I think she must know she's not the person I was looking for, because I said she sold the house across the street from me and I assume she knows what houses she's sold and she never said anything! Plus, maybe she even looked up the house across the street and knew full well that a fellow agent from her same firm sold the house!
So I did what I do best. I sat there and smiled and nodded through her presentation and tried to get through it as quickly as possible before escorting them out and calling Josh to ask what the heck I am supposed do now! What are the odds that both a Judy Whozhername AND a Judy Whazhername work at the same firm??? We eventually decided to call Judy Whazhername anyway- I explained the whole ridiculous awkward situation, and she's coming over tomorrow. What do I do about the first two agents, though? Do I call and tell them the whole confusing story or do I just say thanks, but no thanks we've decided to go with someone else? HELP!
My neighbor's house sold in less than a week just a few months ago, so I decided to give her broker a try. That broker is someone I've run into numerous times, she lives right in the neighborhood, and she seems to be a high seller and power player in my town. I thought her opinions would be good ones.
I called the brokering firm and asked for her, let's call her Judy Whazhername as a pseudonym. They connect me to her, and I start saying that she sold the house across the street from me, I've met her before, blah blah blah. She doesn't comment on any of those things, but she does say she'd be happy to come by and give me an estimate and talk house selling tips and estimates. I say great, and I clean like a crazy woman for her arrival today at 11am.
I open the door promptly at 11am, and a woman I have never seen before is standing there. I'm a little thrown off when she holds out her hand and introduces herself as Judy, but then I realize there is another woman behind her who looks somewhat like what I remember Judy looking like. She introduces her as Martha, but I am so confused by the whole thing (and sleep deprived, remember), I assume I've misunderstood and Judy is the other woman and this one is Martha. I'm still a little thrown because Judy looks slightly different, but close enough, short blond hair, same build, tall, I figure I'm just mistaken.
Anyway, we start the whole tour of the house and they are a little timid for my tastes. I am looking for some serious opinions/advice since this is my first house sale, and I really want you to tell me what to do. Tell me exactly which books you would move, which chairs and furniture and curtains you would switch around. Tell me my closets are too cluttered and my cabinets need work. Whatever, just guide me and I'll do it, no questions asked.
We would go into the bedrooms and they would just stand there and admire from afar, and that was a little annoying to me also. I want you to ooh and aah over my beautiful closet and tell me my son's room is adorable (which is what our other broker did), or say you hate it. Regardless, we get through the whole tour and settle into the living room for their appraisal.
She hands me a booklet and I read out of the corner of my eye that the name at the top of the listing analysis is Judy Whozhername, NOT Judy Whazhername whom I was originally looking for, and suddenly everything becomes abundantly clear. But what do I do now? We've just finished the whole tour, they've prepared this whole analysis, and it is so AWKWARD! I think she must know she's not the person I was looking for, because I said she sold the house across the street from me and I assume she knows what houses she's sold and she never said anything! Plus, maybe she even looked up the house across the street and knew full well that a fellow agent from her same firm sold the house!
So I did what I do best. I sat there and smiled and nodded through her presentation and tried to get through it as quickly as possible before escorting them out and calling Josh to ask what the heck I am supposed do now! What are the odds that both a Judy Whozhername AND a Judy Whazhername work at the same firm??? We eventually decided to call Judy Whazhername anyway- I explained the whole ridiculous awkward situation, and she's coming over tomorrow. What do I do about the first two agents, though? Do I call and tell them the whole confusing story or do I just say thanks, but no thanks we've decided to go with someone else? HELP!
Thursday, May 28, 2009
where did all this STUFF come from?
I have clearly lost my mind.
I don't have enough with two children, two dogs, a husband who is always working, a house falling apart around me, and dust bunnies threatening to take over. Now I'm also considering selling our house.
Somebody, hold me.
We spent this weekend crunching the numbers, and we think now might be a good time for us to try to make the jump to a slightly bigger house. Our town hasn't suffered much in this real estate market, but it hasn't grown much either. If we can just break even, we're thinking that we can get far more for our money in another town (maybe even another bedroom, which would be great since our parents are sleeping on an air mattress in our living room when they visit).
When we initially decided, I almost peed my pants with excitement. Then reality set in. We have SO MUCH to do before this house could be ready to put on the market, not to mention trying to keep it clean with a five month old and a two year old. I want to cry just thinking about it. We need to paint the exterior, paint all the trim in the house, paint all the radiators, empty out the basement, paint the basement, carpet the basement, and none of that includes emptying the house of all our junk. And we have a lot of junk.
I've almost thrown the idea out the window multiple times, but I keep coming back to the fact that we really need more space. I love our house, but we are squished to the gills in here. We climbed the stairs last night and the creaking steps were so loud Josie woke up screaming. Then Gabe made too much noise in his room this morning and Josie woke up again. We are in such cramped quarters, every noise is magnified.
Still, this is our first home. I tore up carpet, took down wallpaper, painted every wall in this house. We remodeled the kitchen exactly how we wanted it, decorated every room the way we'd dreamed it, struggled over the grass and the garden. I brought both of my babies home to this little place, and every inch of it is crammed with happiness. It'll be hard to leave.
First things first, though, a real estate agent came over today to talk numbers, and she is coming over again on Monday with a final price and a marketing plan. If the number we are hoping for and the number she proposes are too far apart, then all of this is a no go. We'll be on pins and needles all weekend, and in the meantime, I'll be decluttering and finishing projects like a woman on a mission. Even if we decide not to sell, I need to capitalize on our motivation and get as much done as possible. Wish me luck, and then tell me I'm not totally insane. Maybe just a little?
I don't have enough with two children, two dogs, a husband who is always working, a house falling apart around me, and dust bunnies threatening to take over. Now I'm also considering selling our house.
Somebody, hold me.
We spent this weekend crunching the numbers, and we think now might be a good time for us to try to make the jump to a slightly bigger house. Our town hasn't suffered much in this real estate market, but it hasn't grown much either. If we can just break even, we're thinking that we can get far more for our money in another town (maybe even another bedroom, which would be great since our parents are sleeping on an air mattress in our living room when they visit).
When we initially decided, I almost peed my pants with excitement. Then reality set in. We have SO MUCH to do before this house could be ready to put on the market, not to mention trying to keep it clean with a five month old and a two year old. I want to cry just thinking about it. We need to paint the exterior, paint all the trim in the house, paint all the radiators, empty out the basement, paint the basement, carpet the basement, and none of that includes emptying the house of all our junk. And we have a lot of junk.
I've almost thrown the idea out the window multiple times, but I keep coming back to the fact that we really need more space. I love our house, but we are squished to the gills in here. We climbed the stairs last night and the creaking steps were so loud Josie woke up screaming. Then Gabe made too much noise in his room this morning and Josie woke up again. We are in such cramped quarters, every noise is magnified.
Still, this is our first home. I tore up carpet, took down wallpaper, painted every wall in this house. We remodeled the kitchen exactly how we wanted it, decorated every room the way we'd dreamed it, struggled over the grass and the garden. I brought both of my babies home to this little place, and every inch of it is crammed with happiness. It'll be hard to leave.
First things first, though, a real estate agent came over today to talk numbers, and she is coming over again on Monday with a final price and a marketing plan. If the number we are hoping for and the number she proposes are too far apart, then all of this is a no go. We'll be on pins and needles all weekend, and in the meantime, I'll be decluttering and finishing projects like a woman on a mission. Even if we decide not to sell, I need to capitalize on our motivation and get as much done as possible. Wish me luck, and then tell me I'm not totally insane. Maybe just a little?
Friday, May 22, 2009
at least she looks cute in hats
I walked in the door this afternoon with both kids, set Josie quickly in her swing and ran full speed to the bathroom before I peed my pants. I walked back out into the kitchen and Gabe was asking to wash his hands in the sink. I lifted him on top of a chair, turned on the water, and then realized I couldn't hear Josie so I ran quickly to the living room...
And found her face down on the floor next to the swing.
As I walked in, she started shrieking in a high pitched voice. I swooped her up and started looking her over to make sure she wasn't hurt. It is only about a foot and a half from the swing to the floor, but for a baby who doesn't know to protect herself or break her fall at all, it could be bad. All I could see was a small scratch and red mark at the top of her forehead, where the hairline starts, and it only took me about 15 seconds to calm her down, but I still called the pediatrician right away. They told me to bring her in for an exam, so I shoved both kids in the car and we rushed over.
In the 5 minutes it took for us to get there, the red mark on her forehead turned into a lump, but she seemed perfectly content and smiled at everyone in the doctor's office. They checked her over and she's totally fine, but I spent those 15 minutes imagining the worst and thinking I was going to have to take her to the emergency room at any moment. I'm so relieved, and now I'm just kicking myself because I KNOW BETTER. I know I shouldn't have put her down without strapping her in- it was just a stupid mistake.
I'm not sure whether she kicked or rolled over or flung herself off of the swing, or whether perhaps a certain sibling swung the swing (as he is prone to doing) and she slipped off. It doesn't matter, really, I still should have strapped her in. I'm just so happy she's okay, and I have learned my lesson. I'd been so smug about Gabe never falling off of anything, but again Josie has obliged in humbling me. Not much of a surprise there, huh?
And found her face down on the floor next to the swing.
As I walked in, she started shrieking in a high pitched voice. I swooped her up and started looking her over to make sure she wasn't hurt. It is only about a foot and a half from the swing to the floor, but for a baby who doesn't know to protect herself or break her fall at all, it could be bad. All I could see was a small scratch and red mark at the top of her forehead, where the hairline starts, and it only took me about 15 seconds to calm her down, but I still called the pediatrician right away. They told me to bring her in for an exam, so I shoved both kids in the car and we rushed over.
In the 5 minutes it took for us to get there, the red mark on her forehead turned into a lump, but she seemed perfectly content and smiled at everyone in the doctor's office. They checked her over and she's totally fine, but I spent those 15 minutes imagining the worst and thinking I was going to have to take her to the emergency room at any moment. I'm so relieved, and now I'm just kicking myself because I KNOW BETTER. I know I shouldn't have put her down without strapping her in- it was just a stupid mistake.
I'm not sure whether she kicked or rolled over or flung herself off of the swing, or whether perhaps a certain sibling swung the swing (as he is prone to doing) and she slipped off. It doesn't matter, really, I still should have strapped her in. I'm just so happy she's okay, and I have learned my lesson. I'd been so smug about Gabe never falling off of anything, but again Josie has obliged in humbling me. Not much of a surprise there, huh?
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I have sunk to a new low
In the rush to get out the door this morning with enough time for Gabe to get to his toddler program on time, I glanced into my purse and saw two of Josie's diapers, enough (I figured) for us to get through the four hours until we'd come back home.
This is called FORESHADOWING.
I rushed the kids out the door and started on our list of "to dos". First, I had to load the car up with the three full canisters of gasoline that Josh needed me to take to our recycling center for dumping. I guess for the past three years, rather than take the unused gasoline to the hazardous waste dumping area, he would just go out and purchase a new gasoline tank. Hence, why my car was loaded up with THREE full gas tanks. I was a little annoyed at the task, but it wasn't until I started driving that I realized that I was driving with my two precious children and several containers of flammable gasoline. I slowed the car wayyyy down and started driving 15 mph, cursing Josh the whole way.
Josie and I dropped Gabe off, and I was afraid to leave her alone with the canisters for even the 30 seconds it would take me to drop him off at the door of the toddler program because I kept envisioning the car blowing up, all lethal weapon style. We made it to the recycling center in one piece, they dumped out that gasoline, and handed the canisters back to me with gasoline dripping all over the outside. I just stood there, because there was no way I was going to get gasoline all over the inside of my car, but I ended up finding an empty diaper box in the recycling area and I put the canisters inside that box.
Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to take the canisters home before our next "to do"- the dentist- so that car reeked of gasoline the whole way, and I had some more choice words for Josh. We drove with all the windows down, but poor Josie still sunk of gasoline when I pulled her out of the car.
Josie and I went to the dentist, where she pretended to be a perfect angel from the comfort of her car seat. I was shocked at how well she behaved, really. As we were leaving, I fed her in the car, ran home to drop off the canisters, and then we drove to our next "to do"- the hairdresser- where I was scheduled to get this horror of a haircut fixed. My current haircut has to be the worst haircut I have ever received, and I'm sorry to say that I have actually cried at how awful it looks. I can't do anything with it, I can't get it to work, I just feel like it constantly looks frizzy and nasty and too layered and uneven. Ugh, I hate it so much.
Anyway, we arrived at the hair salon and I decided to change Josie's diaper, thinking it must have been relatively full and maybe changing it now would keep us from having some of the leaking problems we've been having recently. I balled up the diaper, stuffed it under the stroller until we found a garbage can, and started off for the hair salon.
And then I heard it. The unmistakable sound of a child blowing out of her diaper. I was actually relieved Josie had spared me the embarrassment of blowing out in the waiting room of the salon, so I happily headed back to the car where I started another diaper change. It was only then that I realized the other diaper was a size 1. As in, TWO whole sizes smaller than what she wears. I tried to get it on her, and it looked like a speedo. Her butt didn't even entirely fit into the diaper, and I was going to have to hold it together with the floss the dentist had given me.
I had a moment of panic, because there wasn't enough time to go home, not enough time to go buy diapers, and I couldn't cancel my hair appointment because HELLO! disgusting hair here! So I did what any reasonable person would do, and unwrapped her original dirty diaper and put it back on her.
I know. I know. I'm disgusted with myself, and I cannot believe I am putting this down for posterity. Josie need something to talk about in therapy, though, and I figure this will suffice. My poor sweet child sat through the haircut, smiled at everyone, and sweetly watched me get my hair shampooed, cut, and blow dried, and did it all with a very dirty diaper. I owe her. Big.
Let's recap. I made my child stink like gasoline, didn't let her nap, forced her to sit through two appointments and ride around in the car seat all day, and made her do it all in a dirty diaper. Someone alert the press, mother of the year award right over here. Clearly.
This is called FORESHADOWING.
I rushed the kids out the door and started on our list of "to dos". First, I had to load the car up with the three full canisters of gasoline that Josh needed me to take to our recycling center for dumping. I guess for the past three years, rather than take the unused gasoline to the hazardous waste dumping area, he would just go out and purchase a new gasoline tank. Hence, why my car was loaded up with THREE full gas tanks. I was a little annoyed at the task, but it wasn't until I started driving that I realized that I was driving with my two precious children and several containers of flammable gasoline. I slowed the car wayyyy down and started driving 15 mph, cursing Josh the whole way.
Josie and I dropped Gabe off, and I was afraid to leave her alone with the canisters for even the 30 seconds it would take me to drop him off at the door of the toddler program because I kept envisioning the car blowing up, all lethal weapon style. We made it to the recycling center in one piece, they dumped out that gasoline, and handed the canisters back to me with gasoline dripping all over the outside. I just stood there, because there was no way I was going to get gasoline all over the inside of my car, but I ended up finding an empty diaper box in the recycling area and I put the canisters inside that box.
Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to take the canisters home before our next "to do"- the dentist- so that car reeked of gasoline the whole way, and I had some more choice words for Josh. We drove with all the windows down, but poor Josie still sunk of gasoline when I pulled her out of the car.
Josie and I went to the dentist, where she pretended to be a perfect angel from the comfort of her car seat. I was shocked at how well she behaved, really. As we were leaving, I fed her in the car, ran home to drop off the canisters, and then we drove to our next "to do"- the hairdresser- where I was scheduled to get this horror of a haircut fixed. My current haircut has to be the worst haircut I have ever received, and I'm sorry to say that I have actually cried at how awful it looks. I can't do anything with it, I can't get it to work, I just feel like it constantly looks frizzy and nasty and too layered and uneven. Ugh, I hate it so much.
Anyway, we arrived at the hair salon and I decided to change Josie's diaper, thinking it must have been relatively full and maybe changing it now would keep us from having some of the leaking problems we've been having recently. I balled up the diaper, stuffed it under the stroller until we found a garbage can, and started off for the hair salon.
And then I heard it. The unmistakable sound of a child blowing out of her diaper. I was actually relieved Josie had spared me the embarrassment of blowing out in the waiting room of the salon, so I happily headed back to the car where I started another diaper change. It was only then that I realized the other diaper was a size 1. As in, TWO whole sizes smaller than what she wears. I tried to get it on her, and it looked like a speedo. Her butt didn't even entirely fit into the diaper, and I was going to have to hold it together with the floss the dentist had given me.
I had a moment of panic, because there wasn't enough time to go home, not enough time to go buy diapers, and I couldn't cancel my hair appointment because HELLO! disgusting hair here! So I did what any reasonable person would do, and unwrapped her original dirty diaper and put it back on her.
I know. I know. I'm disgusted with myself, and I cannot believe I am putting this down for posterity. Josie need something to talk about in therapy, though, and I figure this will suffice. My poor sweet child sat through the haircut, smiled at everyone, and sweetly watched me get my hair shampooed, cut, and blow dried, and did it all with a very dirty diaper. I owe her. Big.
Let's recap. I made my child stink like gasoline, didn't let her nap, forced her to sit through two appointments and ride around in the car seat all day, and made her do it all in a dirty diaper. Someone alert the press, mother of the year award right over here. Clearly.
Monday, May 18, 2009
on a roll
I don't know if it is the spring weather, or the fact that we desperately need more space but can't afford to move right now, but I am super motivated these days. I am doing some serious decluttering/completing projects/organizing around the house.
Josh and I both have this amazing skill to overlook things that are lying around the house and leave them there for months. Case in point, the aerobed and pillows and comforter that my parents used when they were here in JANUARY are still sitting on the floor of our office. No more, though! I carried them upstairs and then lugged them into the attic and stored them, all by my lonesome, and then I sat around and marveled at the fact that they'd been sitting there for 5 months and it took me 10 minutes to do it.
There is also a coffee cup that has been sitting on the counter for a week because his mom used it from the top shelf of the cabinet and neither one of us was capable of pulling the chair over to stand on it to reach the shelf and put it away. Today I did it, and I was able to stop being bitter about the fact that she used the top shelf cup in the first place. Our laziness honestly has no bounds.
There is a bug in my nonexistent bonnet these days, and for whatever reason, I am Getting Stuff Done.
Remember the monkeys? Seriously, go look at those adorable monkeys. They are pretty cute. Well, I am ecstatic to announce that after one 8-week class, almost 2 years, and a whole additional child added to our family, I have COMPLETED THE FREAKING QUILT. Do you feel the excitement?
The pattern is called "Lucky Stars", and it was a bit of a pain because it was a lot of cutting of little pieces, but for my first quilt ever, I think it turned out pretty well.
I made the twin size, which in retrospect was too big. Lesson learned for next time, I guess.
The quilt is also MUCH busier and brighter than what I'd hoped for, so another lesson learned there. I like the colors, but all of the fabrics were equally busy (read: very much so) and it makes for a very, very, very bright quilt.
For that reason, I picked a simpler fabric for the backing, and I love it. Can you see the actual quilting? It is loops and stars, although I didn't do that part of the quilt. I left that to the professionals with the long arm sewing machine.
Can you see the cute monkeys riding scooters and pogo sticks and hula-hooping?
Best of all, though, there is a very happy boy who thinks the quilt is the coolest thing ever. Somehow, he seems to know this blanket is special. I don't know whether he can really understand that I made it with my own two hands, but he oohs and aahs over each fabric, each little star, each little monkey. He's already told me multiple times that his favorite is the red band aid fabric because the "monkeys have boo-boos". He is so cute, I could swallow him whole.
I do love the binding also- it's made with this brown fabric that looks like a knit but isn't. It is really cute, and considering my hatred for hand sewing (because you have to hand sew the binding), I'm proud that I actually finished it. I'm especially glad it didn't come out looking terrible.
I'm so relieved this is done. I was emotionally unable to tackle other sewing projects because I kept seeing my poor innocent quilt squares sitting in my sewing box and I felt too guilty to try anything else. Now that the quilt is finished, I am free to do whatever I want again.
It isn't perfect, by any means, but I've learned some lessons. First, next time I will do a simpler pattern. I knew when I first saw the pattern that it wasn't quite my cup of tea because it looked a little too "country" for my tastes. Everyone else in the class was completing that pattern, though, so I went along with it, and I thought stars would be cute for a kids quilt. Next time, I know I prefer something simpler- more streamlined. Second, the fabrics. I will definitely pick one main fabric and several simpler ones for my next quilt (i.e. Josie's quilt). Perhaps the colors will be no less bright, but I will stick with one patterned one and the rest in stripes or plaids or something like that. Lastly, I will just DO IT. I will make the quilt and finish it, because the finishing process took so little time that it was ridiculous for the quilt top to have sat in my box for over a year. Now that I know, I'll just take one afternoon and get it done.
I have finished several more sewing projects in the last week and a half since I finished the quilt, but I have to get some sleep so the suspense will have to continue. Da dum da dum da dum (cue Jaws theme music). I'm sure you'll be on the edge of your seats, right?
Josh and I both have this amazing skill to overlook things that are lying around the house and leave them there for months. Case in point, the aerobed and pillows and comforter that my parents used when they were here in JANUARY are still sitting on the floor of our office. No more, though! I carried them upstairs and then lugged them into the attic and stored them, all by my lonesome, and then I sat around and marveled at the fact that they'd been sitting there for 5 months and it took me 10 minutes to do it.
There is also a coffee cup that has been sitting on the counter for a week because his mom used it from the top shelf of the cabinet and neither one of us was capable of pulling the chair over to stand on it to reach the shelf and put it away. Today I did it, and I was able to stop being bitter about the fact that she used the top shelf cup in the first place. Our laziness honestly has no bounds.
There is a bug in my nonexistent bonnet these days, and for whatever reason, I am Getting Stuff Done.
Remember the monkeys? Seriously, go look at those adorable monkeys. They are pretty cute. Well, I am ecstatic to announce that after one 8-week class, almost 2 years, and a whole additional child added to our family, I have COMPLETED THE FREAKING QUILT. Do you feel the excitement?
The pattern is called "Lucky Stars", and it was a bit of a pain because it was a lot of cutting of little pieces, but for my first quilt ever, I think it turned out pretty well.
I made the twin size, which in retrospect was too big. Lesson learned for next time, I guess.
The quilt is also MUCH busier and brighter than what I'd hoped for, so another lesson learned there. I like the colors, but all of the fabrics were equally busy (read: very much so) and it makes for a very, very, very bright quilt.
For that reason, I picked a simpler fabric for the backing, and I love it. Can you see the actual quilting? It is loops and stars, although I didn't do that part of the quilt. I left that to the professionals with the long arm sewing machine.Can you see the cute monkeys riding scooters and pogo sticks and hula-hooping?
Best of all, though, there is a very happy boy who thinks the quilt is the coolest thing ever. Somehow, he seems to know this blanket is special. I don't know whether he can really understand that I made it with my own two hands, but he oohs and aahs over each fabric, each little star, each little monkey. He's already told me multiple times that his favorite is the red band aid fabric because the "monkeys have boo-boos". He is so cute, I could swallow him whole.
I do love the binding also- it's made with this brown fabric that looks like a knit but isn't. It is really cute, and considering my hatred for hand sewing (because you have to hand sew the binding), I'm proud that I actually finished it. I'm especially glad it didn't come out looking terrible.
I'm so relieved this is done. I was emotionally unable to tackle other sewing projects because I kept seeing my poor innocent quilt squares sitting in my sewing box and I felt too guilty to try anything else. Now that the quilt is finished, I am free to do whatever I want again.
It isn't perfect, by any means, but I've learned some lessons. First, next time I will do a simpler pattern. I knew when I first saw the pattern that it wasn't quite my cup of tea because it looked a little too "country" for my tastes. Everyone else in the class was completing that pattern, though, so I went along with it, and I thought stars would be cute for a kids quilt. Next time, I know I prefer something simpler- more streamlined. Second, the fabrics. I will definitely pick one main fabric and several simpler ones for my next quilt (i.e. Josie's quilt). Perhaps the colors will be no less bright, but I will stick with one patterned one and the rest in stripes or plaids or something like that. Lastly, I will just DO IT. I will make the quilt and finish it, because the finishing process took so little time that it was ridiculous for the quilt top to have sat in my box for over a year. Now that I know, I'll just take one afternoon and get it done.
I have finished several more sewing projects in the last week and a half since I finished the quilt, but I have to get some sleep so the suspense will have to continue. Da dum da dum da dum (cue Jaws theme music). I'm sure you'll be on the edge of your seats, right?
Sunday, May 17, 2009
negligent mother of the year
I have a confession to make. I haven't made Gabe a baby book. And let's not even get started on Josie. I haven't even PURCHASED her a baby book. Negligent mother, indeed.
I finally cracked open Gabe's baby book last night in my new quest for organization, and all I have to say is THANK HEAVENS for blogs. If I didn't have all of you, I don't know what I would do. At least I wrote down some of the milestones here, and I can spend hours going through my blog posts and piece together some of his firsts. The rest, well, I guess I'll make it up and hope Gabe never reads this post.
Some of these entries, though, GIVE ME A BREAK. First time he sang a song? Drew a picture? Talked on the phone? Held a bottle? I have no freaking idea. Plus, is he really going to care? Somehow I doubt it.
*******
Here's an aside to report that Gabe is standing 2 inches from his monitor and screaming, "Is someone coming for me please?"
*******
It's going to be even worse with Josie, I can tell. I am already realizing that everything you hear about the second child is true. I'm 100% as obsessed with her as I was/am with Gabe, but writing it all down doesn't have the same priority. It's funny, I also worry so much less about all of the milestones. At this age, I'd already been coaxing Gabe to sit up for months. I would get him to sit in that tripod position (legs spread, arms between knees, leaning forward), and encase him with pillows to make sure he didn't fall over. I was doing daily exercises to encourage him to roll over. I'd stimulate him with toys like crazy. With Josie, I do less of the tummy time, sitting, or exercises, and more time just enjoying her.
I don't worry (much) about the milestones, because I know she'll get there. I especially know that she has the rest of her life to grow up, and only now to be a baby. My baby. So if she wants to hang out in my arms, be carried in the sling, spend a little more time being rocked, that's okay by me. She'll eventually sit, roll over, walk, run. All of them way too soon for my tastes, I'm sure.
Anyway, I just placed an order for about 130 pictures off of the Kodak website and I'm going to try to put them in an album. I'm trying to get some of Gabe's baby information down into the book I have, and I'm on the hunt for a baby book for Josie. Any recommendations?
And please tell me I'm not the only one who hasn't made a baby book for their child. I'm feeling totally guilty about this. The only thing that is making me feel better is the knowledge that I have about 7,000 pictures of my children, I just don't have them printed out. I'm not a TOTALLY sucky mom on that front.
I finally cracked open Gabe's baby book last night in my new quest for organization, and all I have to say is THANK HEAVENS for blogs. If I didn't have all of you, I don't know what I would do. At least I wrote down some of the milestones here, and I can spend hours going through my blog posts and piece together some of his firsts. The rest, well, I guess I'll make it up and hope Gabe never reads this post.
Some of these entries, though, GIVE ME A BREAK. First time he sang a song? Drew a picture? Talked on the phone? Held a bottle? I have no freaking idea. Plus, is he really going to care? Somehow I doubt it.
*******
Here's an aside to report that Gabe is standing 2 inches from his monitor and screaming, "Is someone coming for me please?"
*******
It's going to be even worse with Josie, I can tell. I am already realizing that everything you hear about the second child is true. I'm 100% as obsessed with her as I was/am with Gabe, but writing it all down doesn't have the same priority. It's funny, I also worry so much less about all of the milestones. At this age, I'd already been coaxing Gabe to sit up for months. I would get him to sit in that tripod position (legs spread, arms between knees, leaning forward), and encase him with pillows to make sure he didn't fall over. I was doing daily exercises to encourage him to roll over. I'd stimulate him with toys like crazy. With Josie, I do less of the tummy time, sitting, or exercises, and more time just enjoying her.
I don't worry (much) about the milestones, because I know she'll get there. I especially know that she has the rest of her life to grow up, and only now to be a baby. My baby. So if she wants to hang out in my arms, be carried in the sling, spend a little more time being rocked, that's okay by me. She'll eventually sit, roll over, walk, run. All of them way too soon for my tastes, I'm sure.
Anyway, I just placed an order for about 130 pictures off of the Kodak website and I'm going to try to put them in an album. I'm trying to get some of Gabe's baby information down into the book I have, and I'm on the hunt for a baby book for Josie. Any recommendations?
And please tell me I'm not the only one who hasn't made a baby book for their child. I'm feeling totally guilty about this. The only thing that is making me feel better is the knowledge that I have about 7,000 pictures of my children, I just don't have them printed out. I'm not a TOTALLY sucky mom on that front.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
cleanliness pays
After visiting my sister in law last month, I've been motivated to undertake an extensive cleaning and decluttering mission in our house. My sister in law is one of those people whose house always looks impeccable. I got into her car when she picked us up from the airport and it could have been a test drive in a model car. I could EAT off of her floor mats. She never has piles of dishes, or laundry, or stray papers lying around. She is crazy organized. She works out 6 days a week, takes care of her two kids, helps them with homework, pays attention to her husband, goes out with friends, cleans her own house, AND she goes to bed at 10pm every night, so it isn't even as if she stays up all night to do everything. Granted, her kids are 9 and 5, so they are in school 5 days a week, but still. On a great day, my house doesn't look half as clean as hers.
The truth is, though, I think I just don't care enough to make it happen and therein lies the biggest problem. I want to spend FUN time with Gabe and Josie and Josh, and when I have downtime, I want downtime, not cleaning time. However, I need to find a happy medium between perfection and a pigsty. Since I've gotten back, I'm trying to slowly work my way through every drawer, every shelf, every pile of papers. It is slow going, but I am making some progress.
Today, I emptied out my car for the first time in, well, we bought the car 4 years ago, so the first time in FOUR YEARS. I took several large grocery bags out to the car and removed the following:
- One hooded rain coat
- One spring light jacket
- Snow hat for Gabe
- Fireman rain coat for Gabe
- Snow hat for Josie
- Baby Bjorn
- 2 dry cleaning hooks
- 17 (SEVENTEEN) kids' cds scattered throughout the car and under the seats
- 6 holiday cds (fyi, it's May, and I actually think these cds are from 2006 holidays when I was pregnant with Gabe)
- 3 chapsticks
- 2 song books from a music class we took last June
- 37 cents in pennies
- $2.45 in other assorted coins
- 1 Josie diaper
- 2 Gabe pullups
- 9 random books
- 1 large box of Kleenex
- 1 small package of Kleenex
- 1 golf ball
- Empty yogurt container
- 32,467 cheerios
- 1 sippy cup
- Countless baby rings (those rings you use to hang toys from the car seat or stroller or whatever)
- 89,000 receipts (not an exact number)
- Multiple expired coupons
- 1 sandal
- Lunchbox with moldy grapes inside
- 4- 37 cent stamps
- Shirt for Gabe
- Onesie for Josie
- Empty package for Robeez shoes
- 2 pamphlets
- 1 clothes hanger
- Address labels
- 2 phone chargers (none of which are for my current phone)
- Packaging tape
- Nylons
And worst of all...
- Staples gift card (amount unknown)
- Starbucks gift card (amount unknown)
- 2 Gap gift cards (amount unknown)
- Bloomingdales gift card... prepare yourself... $209.79 remaining on card from 9/30/2004 (I have no words for this one)
- Babies R Us gift card (amount unknown)
- 3 gift cards for a local toy store
Do you see that list? I do not drive a semi, but rather a perfectly reasonable petite Honda CR-V. There is no excuse for that kind of junk. And I'm not even listing the straight up trash or the stuff that is staying in the car- the maps, map books, changing pads, Gabe's placemats for restaurants, the double stroller, Josie's toys, Gabe's pacifiers, my coin purse, my cds.
Additionally, the removal of the above items has made it abundantly clear that the car is disgustingly dirty. I mean, DISGUSTINGLY DIRTY. I'm surprised mice haven't taken up residence in the car. Since I couldn't see the floor mats, I couldn't see the ground in crumbs and dirt. Today I drove 25 minutes to a car wash, only to discover that they stop vacuuming and shampooing rugs at 4:30pm, so tomorrow I am dropping Gabe off at school and Josie and I are taking a trip to our friendly car wash. I'm just hoping they don't charge me extra for "total slob upkeep".
I am shamed, people. Really and truly shamed. Good news, though, I can apparently go shopping with my gift cards to cheer myself up! Silver lining, I guess!
The truth is, though, I think I just don't care enough to make it happen and therein lies the biggest problem. I want to spend FUN time with Gabe and Josie and Josh, and when I have downtime, I want downtime, not cleaning time. However, I need to find a happy medium between perfection and a pigsty. Since I've gotten back, I'm trying to slowly work my way through every drawer, every shelf, every pile of papers. It is slow going, but I am making some progress.
Today, I emptied out my car for the first time in, well, we bought the car 4 years ago, so the first time in FOUR YEARS. I took several large grocery bags out to the car and removed the following:
- One hooded rain coat
- One spring light jacket
- Snow hat for Gabe
- Fireman rain coat for Gabe
- Snow hat for Josie
- Baby Bjorn
- 2 dry cleaning hooks
- 17 (SEVENTEEN) kids' cds scattered throughout the car and under the seats
- 6 holiday cds (fyi, it's May, and I actually think these cds are from 2006 holidays when I was pregnant with Gabe)
- 3 chapsticks
- 2 song books from a music class we took last June
- 37 cents in pennies
- $2.45 in other assorted coins
- 1 Josie diaper
- 2 Gabe pullups
- 9 random books
- 1 large box of Kleenex
- 1 small package of Kleenex
- 1 golf ball
- Empty yogurt container
- 32,467 cheerios
- 1 sippy cup
- Countless baby rings (those rings you use to hang toys from the car seat or stroller or whatever)
- 89,000 receipts (not an exact number)
- Multiple expired coupons
- 1 sandal
- Lunchbox with moldy grapes inside
- 4- 37 cent stamps
- Shirt for Gabe
- Onesie for Josie
- Empty package for Robeez shoes
- 2 pamphlets
- 1 clothes hanger
- Address labels
- 2 phone chargers (none of which are for my current phone)
- Packaging tape
- Nylons
And worst of all...
- Staples gift card (amount unknown)
- Starbucks gift card (amount unknown)
- 2 Gap gift cards (amount unknown)
- Bloomingdales gift card... prepare yourself... $209.79 remaining on card from 9/30/2004 (I have no words for this one)
- Babies R Us gift card (amount unknown)
- 3 gift cards for a local toy store
Do you see that list? I do not drive a semi, but rather a perfectly reasonable petite Honda CR-V. There is no excuse for that kind of junk. And I'm not even listing the straight up trash or the stuff that is staying in the car- the maps, map books, changing pads, Gabe's placemats for restaurants, the double stroller, Josie's toys, Gabe's pacifiers, my coin purse, my cds.
Additionally, the removal of the above items has made it abundantly clear that the car is disgustingly dirty. I mean, DISGUSTINGLY DIRTY. I'm surprised mice haven't taken up residence in the car. Since I couldn't see the floor mats, I couldn't see the ground in crumbs and dirt. Today I drove 25 minutes to a car wash, only to discover that they stop vacuuming and shampooing rugs at 4:30pm, so tomorrow I am dropping Gabe off at school and Josie and I are taking a trip to our friendly car wash. I'm just hoping they don't charge me extra for "total slob upkeep".
I am shamed, people. Really and truly shamed. Good news, though, I can apparently go shopping with my gift cards to cheer myself up! Silver lining, I guess!
Thursday, May 07, 2009
in which I lose the rest of my dignity
If you know me in real life, or are squeamish about too many personal details, you may want to click AWAY NOW. This little story is chock full of embarrassing and TMI moments.
So.
I went in today to be fitted for a diaphragm. That's right, click click click away.
I hate hormonal birth control, and I didn't want to try a copper IUD since I want another baby in the relatively near future. We've traditionally used condoms, but (a) that didn't work out perfectly for us as a method of birth control last March, and (b) now that we've had sex without condoms, it's hard to go back. So, my OB and I went through the options and settled on a diaphragm as the best choice for me. It is easy, effective (according to my OB, 97-98% effective when used correctly), and non-hormonal.
I got called into the exam room and stripped from the waist down and attempted to cover myself with the tiny paper sheet, which is a joke, but that is a conversation for another day. I had Josie with me in her bucket seat and I was trying to keep her entertained while also keeping myself somewhat covered. Anyway, the OB comes in, explains the whole process and we get started.
First she sized it by putting it in and removing it, and then she handed it to me and told me to put it in myself and said she would check to make sure I did it right. Then she leaned against the counter and looked at me expectantly. As in, she wanted me to put it in RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER. She pushed the stool over to me and started describing how I was supposed to do it, and I swear to you, I almost died right then and there.
What could I do, though? She was standing there, nodding at me, so I did. To make matters worse, I couldn't get it in, so I had to stand there, basically buck naked, and keep trying to get it in, becoming increasingly flustered and the whole process was incredibly painful and she just kept encouraging me and giving me tips on how to get it in. Finally, THANK YOU GOD, I got it in. She checked and it was in correctly, so she told me to take it out now. AGAIN, RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER.
I am a pretty modest person. I didn't wear a bikini until college. I never wear revealing clothing, much to the chagrin of my law school girlfriends and my husband. I'd never worn anything remotely low cut until I was pregnant with Gabe and acquired The Rack and still, those low cut shirts are not even that low cut and there aren't many of them. I'm not a prude, but I'm also not flashing parts of my body publicly. Having to practice all of this in front of her was BEYOND MORTIFYING.
Anyway, I did finally get it out, after many attempts, lots of pain, and buckets of cringing. To my OB's credit, she acted like this was all perfectly normal and not strange at all. Clearly, she has been down there numerous times, but even during labor, I never stood around naked in front of her or anyone else. For goodness sake, I kept my underwear on for most of both of my labors until we were close to the end. I'm telling you, I really am pretty modest. I have cellulite I need to keep hidden, people!
I survived, though, with diaphragm prescription in hand, orders to practice putting it in and taking it out at home, and Josh owes me. He owes me BIG. I am going to spend the rest of this psychologically traumatizing day stuffing cookies into my pie hole. Maybe I'll make him bring cupcakes home tonight.
So.
I went in today to be fitted for a diaphragm. That's right, click click click away.
I hate hormonal birth control, and I didn't want to try a copper IUD since I want another baby in the relatively near future. We've traditionally used condoms, but (a) that didn't work out perfectly for us as a method of birth control last March, and (b) now that we've had sex without condoms, it's hard to go back. So, my OB and I went through the options and settled on a diaphragm as the best choice for me. It is easy, effective (according to my OB, 97-98% effective when used correctly), and non-hormonal.
I got called into the exam room and stripped from the waist down and attempted to cover myself with the tiny paper sheet, which is a joke, but that is a conversation for another day. I had Josie with me in her bucket seat and I was trying to keep her entertained while also keeping myself somewhat covered. Anyway, the OB comes in, explains the whole process and we get started.
First she sized it by putting it in and removing it, and then she handed it to me and told me to put it in myself and said she would check to make sure I did it right. Then she leaned against the counter and looked at me expectantly. As in, she wanted me to put it in RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER. She pushed the stool over to me and started describing how I was supposed to do it, and I swear to you, I almost died right then and there.
What could I do, though? She was standing there, nodding at me, so I did. To make matters worse, I couldn't get it in, so I had to stand there, basically buck naked, and keep trying to get it in, becoming increasingly flustered and the whole process was incredibly painful and she just kept encouraging me and giving me tips on how to get it in. Finally, THANK YOU GOD, I got it in. She checked and it was in correctly, so she told me to take it out now. AGAIN, RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER.
I am a pretty modest person. I didn't wear a bikini until college. I never wear revealing clothing, much to the chagrin of my law school girlfriends and my husband. I'd never worn anything remotely low cut until I was pregnant with Gabe and acquired The Rack and still, those low cut shirts are not even that low cut and there aren't many of them. I'm not a prude, but I'm also not flashing parts of my body publicly. Having to practice all of this in front of her was BEYOND MORTIFYING.
Anyway, I did finally get it out, after many attempts, lots of pain, and buckets of cringing. To my OB's credit, she acted like this was all perfectly normal and not strange at all. Clearly, she has been down there numerous times, but even during labor, I never stood around naked in front of her or anyone else. For goodness sake, I kept my underwear on for most of both of my labors until we were close to the end. I'm telling you, I really am pretty modest. I have cellulite I need to keep hidden, people!
I survived, though, with diaphragm prescription in hand, orders to practice putting it in and taking it out at home, and Josh owes me. He owes me BIG. I am going to spend the rest of this psychologically traumatizing day stuffing cookies into my pie hole. Maybe I'll make him bring cupcakes home tonight.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
must be catching
There have been some days recently where I’ve thought to myself, “Wow. I can totally doing this. This is actually going really well!” And then, well, there are nights like tonight.
Nights where Gabe has a cough and runny nose and case of Whine-itis, Josie has her first fever (fluctuating in the 101-102 range), and Josh has to work super late (like midnight late). Nights like tonight just plain stink.
On nights like tonight, it takes me over 2 hours to get Josie down to bed, and I’m frustrated with her because she won’t just go to sleep. I had to leave Gabe alone in his room and ask him to be quiet, but he keeps banging his trucks against the wall between the rooms and rattling the doorknob. Every time the bangs echo through her bedroom, Josie’s eyes pop open and I have to start the process all over, and I’m seething with anger because Gabe can’t just be quiet.
The dogs keep scratching at the door to Josie’s room because they are hungry for dinner, and I would give them to the first passerby if I could. I keep watching the clock anxiously, because it’s 7pm, then 7:30, then 8, then 8:30, then 9, and Gabe is still awake and hasn’t had a proper dinner because Josie won’t calm down long enough for me to feed him and get him to bed.
Then the resentment comes, because it feels so unfair that we have no family close by, that Josh has to work late, that I always do this alone. That’s crazy, of course, because Josh is working late to support us and it isn’t his fault, and I don’t always do this alone, but the resentment is there, nonetheless.
Nights like tonight just stink. But the good news is that tomorrow will be better. It almost always is.
*************
10:42pm- Another Josie wakeup and subsequent nursing. I think I may just have caught a case of Whine-itis.
Nights where Gabe has a cough and runny nose and case of Whine-itis, Josie has her first fever (fluctuating in the 101-102 range), and Josh has to work super late (like midnight late). Nights like tonight just plain stink.
On nights like tonight, it takes me over 2 hours to get Josie down to bed, and I’m frustrated with her because she won’t just go to sleep. I had to leave Gabe alone in his room and ask him to be quiet, but he keeps banging his trucks against the wall between the rooms and rattling the doorknob. Every time the bangs echo through her bedroom, Josie’s eyes pop open and I have to start the process all over, and I’m seething with anger because Gabe can’t just be quiet.
The dogs keep scratching at the door to Josie’s room because they are hungry for dinner, and I would give them to the first passerby if I could. I keep watching the clock anxiously, because it’s 7pm, then 7:30, then 8, then 8:30, then 9, and Gabe is still awake and hasn’t had a proper dinner because Josie won’t calm down long enough for me to feed him and get him to bed.
Then the resentment comes, because it feels so unfair that we have no family close by, that Josh has to work late, that I always do this alone. That’s crazy, of course, because Josh is working late to support us and it isn’t his fault, and I don’t always do this alone, but the resentment is there, nonetheless.
Nights like tonight just stink. But the good news is that tomorrow will be better. It almost always is.
*************
10:42pm- Another Josie wakeup and subsequent nursing. I think I may just have caught a case of Whine-itis.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
to school or not to school?
I made the decision a few months ago to keep Gabe at his toddler program for another year. He loves the program, adores the woman who runs it and she adores him (she hugs and kisses him and tells him she loves him), I think he is learning a ton from her, and he is doing it all in a wonderfully kind and caring environment. Plus, it is literally 3 blocks from my house, the timing is great (9-1pm), and she serves snack and a hot lunch. Right now he is going 2 days a week, but for May and June he'll switch to 3 days a week, and next year he is also going to go 3 days a week.
You would be shocked at the thinly veiled and/or outright criticism I have gotten over this decision. Every single other mother I know put their child in an "official" preschool for next year, and can't seem to understand why I wouldn't do the same. Gabe and all of his little friends are 2 years old, and will be 2 for the rest of this year (Gabe's birthday is in December and all his friends' birthdays are January or later). The school system in our town and neighboring towns requires a child to be 5 years old on September 1st, meaning that no matter what we choose for this upcoming September, it will be another 3 years before our children can go to school. This is the same whether they stay home for another year, do a toddler program for another year, or go to preschool for an extra year.
Certainly, I'll admit that having Gabe stay at his toddler program is convenient for us. It is very close, it is cheaper than preschool, and she FEEDS him. Do you know how much this child eats? Truthfully, though, I feel confident that this is the right decision for him. I believe Gabe is a very bright little boy and I also believe he is receiving a tremendous amount of nurturing in this program.
Gabe knows his numbers in English and Spanish, he knows his colors, he knows number correspondence (i.e. can connect numbers to objects, like counting how many cars are driving by or how many cookies are on his plate), knows most of his letters and tries to make words with those letters, he can cut well with scissors, holds a pencil correctly, shares nicely, chats up a storm in complete paragraphs, and is virtually potty trained (minus naps and nighttime) thanks to the insistence of the woman who runs the program. Most importantly, at least to me, he is happy. Happy when I drop him off, happy when I pick him up. Happy to learn new skills, happy to share what he knows. I write this not to brag about how awesome he is, although clearly I am biased on the topic, but rather to say I think he is doing just fine at this program.
Some of my friends, however, act like my decision is going to set him back for life. He may not get into an Ivy League university if he doesn't get 3 years of preschool! He won't learn to read! What about writing? Obviously, the new trend is preschool for 3 years is the Right Thing To Do. You are a Good Parent if you pay for the extra year of preschool.
Don't get me wrong, I really don't care whether people want to send their kids to preschool next year, but I do care that people seem to think what I am doing is out and out wrong or borderline neglectful. I am all about doing what is right for each kid, and I also feel strongly that we are over-educating children, over-committing them, and ending up with children who are stressed and burnt out at a young age. Those are my opinions. If you have a super fabulous preschool that is perfect for your kid, though, then of course that is what is right for you and your kid! I'm not walking around telling these moms that they're crazy.
It isn't just preschool, lots of toddlers we know are in 5 classes a week- art, music, gymnastics, etc. The parents we know are quizzing their kids over breakfast, buying educational videos that promise to teach your kid how to read, worrying when their child isn't leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else.
I will be sending Gabe to preschool in another year, and the preschools I am looking at are relatively academically rigorous. I am not anti-education, and I'm not completely immune to the Must Have Super Smart Kid pressure. I just think there is this crazy trend of more is always better these days, and alternatives are not welcome. I know Chatty Cricket has encountered it in her neck of the woods, and My Wombinations has blogged about preschools that cost more than college too (both of whom has BRILLIANT children, by the way, and aren't obsessed with the more is better thing). What about you? Is this trend limited to the Massachusetts moms?
You would be shocked at the thinly veiled and/or outright criticism I have gotten over this decision. Every single other mother I know put their child in an "official" preschool for next year, and can't seem to understand why I wouldn't do the same. Gabe and all of his little friends are 2 years old, and will be 2 for the rest of this year (Gabe's birthday is in December and all his friends' birthdays are January or later). The school system in our town and neighboring towns requires a child to be 5 years old on September 1st, meaning that no matter what we choose for this upcoming September, it will be another 3 years before our children can go to school. This is the same whether they stay home for another year, do a toddler program for another year, or go to preschool for an extra year.
Certainly, I'll admit that having Gabe stay at his toddler program is convenient for us. It is very close, it is cheaper than preschool, and she FEEDS him. Do you know how much this child eats? Truthfully, though, I feel confident that this is the right decision for him. I believe Gabe is a very bright little boy and I also believe he is receiving a tremendous amount of nurturing in this program.
Gabe knows his numbers in English and Spanish, he knows his colors, he knows number correspondence (i.e. can connect numbers to objects, like counting how many cars are driving by or how many cookies are on his plate), knows most of his letters and tries to make words with those letters, he can cut well with scissors, holds a pencil correctly, shares nicely, chats up a storm in complete paragraphs, and is virtually potty trained (minus naps and nighttime) thanks to the insistence of the woman who runs the program. Most importantly, at least to me, he is happy. Happy when I drop him off, happy when I pick him up. Happy to learn new skills, happy to share what he knows. I write this not to brag about how awesome he is, although clearly I am biased on the topic, but rather to say I think he is doing just fine at this program.
Some of my friends, however, act like my decision is going to set him back for life. He may not get into an Ivy League university if he doesn't get 3 years of preschool! He won't learn to read! What about writing? Obviously, the new trend is preschool for 3 years is the Right Thing To Do. You are a Good Parent if you pay for the extra year of preschool.
Don't get me wrong, I really don't care whether people want to send their kids to preschool next year, but I do care that people seem to think what I am doing is out and out wrong or borderline neglectful. I am all about doing what is right for each kid, and I also feel strongly that we are over-educating children, over-committing them, and ending up with children who are stressed and burnt out at a young age. Those are my opinions. If you have a super fabulous preschool that is perfect for your kid, though, then of course that is what is right for you and your kid! I'm not walking around telling these moms that they're crazy.
It isn't just preschool, lots of toddlers we know are in 5 classes a week- art, music, gymnastics, etc. The parents we know are quizzing their kids over breakfast, buying educational videos that promise to teach your kid how to read, worrying when their child isn't leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else.
I will be sending Gabe to preschool in another year, and the preschools I am looking at are relatively academically rigorous. I am not anti-education, and I'm not completely immune to the Must Have Super Smart Kid pressure. I just think there is this crazy trend of more is always better these days, and alternatives are not welcome. I know Chatty Cricket has encountered it in her neck of the woods, and My Wombinations has blogged about preschools that cost more than college too (both of whom has BRILLIANT children, by the way, and aren't obsessed with the more is better thing). What about you? Is this trend limited to the Massachusetts moms?
Thursday, April 30, 2009
JACKPOT!
Look! Look! Look! I won a contest! On Swistle's site! She asked her readers to guess why she had purchased a mini-deodorant and I automatically assumed she was going to visit her new niece, because she is so cute! Who wouldn't want to visit her?
Yesterday, my prize arrived and OH MY GOODNESS, I couldn't believe my eyes! Look at this loot!
Do you see those bags of cookies? Those are SERIOUSLY the best chocolate chip cookies I think I have ever eaten! Yum yum yum yum yum. I am definitely not going to lose my last few pounds with cookies like those in this house. I cannot stop eating them, and last night I shared the other batch of cookies, I think they are butterscotch,
but I wouldn't share the chocolate chip ones. Everyone has their limits, I say. I love my family, but not enough to share chocolate. Yum!
But seriously, Swistle is the QUEEN of care packages! I don't think you can adequately see the details in these pictures!
There are adorable post-it notes, bookmarks, notebooks (especially that adorable cupcake notebook that I'd been coveting on her site and even went to multiple Targets to find, and now it's mine!), little pots with seeds, stationary, pencils, invitations, cloth napkins, cloth napkin rings, decorative paper napkins, earrings, an adorable strawberry mug with matching plate, a super funny wallet, a big bag to carry all of my loot, an initial paperweight for my desk, plus these cutie patootie chicks that have been a HUGE hit in my house.
Everyone in my family is fighting over these chicks. Gabe wants to sleep with them, Josh wants them to hang out in the kitchen and oversee the cooking of dinner, even Murray stole one and gave him, umm, let's call it a bath for Gabe's sake. The poor little chick is looking a little worse for the wear today. I may have to take them on a little outing to cheer them up later.
Besides the cookies, and the cupcake notebook, and the strawberry mug, I have to show you my favorite treat in the box. This wallet made me laugh out loud, and I need to find a couple more to send to my law school girlfriends because it is just too much.
I've always said that I just want one opportunity to prove that money won't make me happy.
Thank you Swistle! I am still enjoying all the little pieces of my package, and I hid the cookies deep in the freezer and I've been sneaking them out when no one is looking. Queen of care packages, I tell you! Wooohoooo!
Yesterday, my prize arrived and OH MY GOODNESS, I couldn't believe my eyes! Look at this loot!
Do you see those bags of cookies? Those are SERIOUSLY the best chocolate chip cookies I think I have ever eaten! Yum yum yum yum yum. I am definitely not going to lose my last few pounds with cookies like those in this house. I cannot stop eating them, and last night I shared the other batch of cookies, I think they are butterscotch,
but I wouldn't share the chocolate chip ones. Everyone has their limits, I say. I love my family, but not enough to share chocolate. Yum!But seriously, Swistle is the QUEEN of care packages! I don't think you can adequately see the details in these pictures!
There are adorable post-it notes, bookmarks, notebooks (especially that adorable cupcake notebook that I'd been coveting on her site and even went to multiple Targets to find, and now it's mine!), little pots with seeds, stationary, pencils, invitations, cloth napkins, cloth napkin rings, decorative paper napkins, earrings, an adorable strawberry mug with matching plate, a super funny wallet, a big bag to carry all of my loot, an initial paperweight for my desk, plus these cutie patootie chicks that have been a HUGE hit in my house.
Everyone in my family is fighting over these chicks. Gabe wants to sleep with them, Josh wants them to hang out in the kitchen and oversee the cooking of dinner, even Murray stole one and gave him, umm, let's call it a bath for Gabe's sake. The poor little chick is looking a little worse for the wear today. I may have to take them on a little outing to cheer them up later.
Besides the cookies, and the cupcake notebook, and the strawberry mug, I have to show you my favorite treat in the box. This wallet made me laugh out loud, and I need to find a couple more to send to my law school girlfriends because it is just too much.
I've always said that I just want one opportunity to prove that money won't make me happy.
Thank you Swistle! I am still enjoying all the little pieces of my package, and I hid the cookies deep in the freezer and I've been sneaking them out when no one is looking. Queen of care packages, I tell you! Wooohoooo!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
chatty and delicious
In the last week Gabe's speech and personality have exploded. He's always funny, but I've laughed so much this week I've cried. He's said the following things to Josh or me over the last few days:(After leaving the Sheep Shearing Festival this weekend)
Gabe: Mommy! I had a good day.
Me: What?
Gabe: I had a good day today, Mommy. I had a good day with sheeps.
(After getting him dressed in the morning)
Me: Here is your dino t-shirt!
Gabe: Yeah! Mommy! Look at me! I'm so cute!
(Looking out the window at the setting sun)
Gabe: I see the moon, Mommy.
Me: I see it too.
Gabe: Mommy, the squirrel went noni, noni (our word for going to sleep).
Me: Oh really?
Gabe: The squirrel went noni, noni because... it's dark outside. He went to sleep in tree because it's dark out there.
(Grabbing Josie's hands)
Gabe: Josie! Don't put your fingers in your mouth, they're dirty dirty.
Josie: Blargh.
(Leaving the pediatrician's office, we encountered a woman pushing a double stroller. Gabe ran up to her side to talk to her)
Gabe: Hi! You need some help?
(Watching television with Josh)
Gabe: Daddy, first you hit the baseball, then you run around and around the bases.
Josh: You run around the bases?
Gabe: I hit baseball and then run around and around the bases. I run so, so fast, Daddy!
(Pulling the tubing off of my breast pump and holding it over his shoulders)
Gabe: I jump jump jump with this.
Me: What?
Gabe: I jump rope, I use this.
Me: That's my breast pump, I use that to take out my milk.
Gabe: I take out milk too. I jump jump with this and I take out milk.
(Trying to feed Josie carrots)
Me: Please don't feed Josie carrots. She doesn't eat carrots.
Gabe: Josie doesn't eat food, she only drinks milk. She only drinks breast milk.
Me: (I didn't even know he knew what breast milk was!!!) Do you drink breast milk?
Gabe: (wrinkling nose) Nooooooo. Only regular milk. Josie drinks breast milk.
(Tango barking)
Gabe: Tango! No barking! Be quiet!
(Playing with trains this weekend)
Gabe: Where's Emily the train?
Me: I don't know. Where's Emily?
Gabe: Emily is downstairs. She's crying.
Me: Why is she crying?
Gabe: She's crying, but I open door and hold her.
(At the beach this weekend)
Gabe: Mommy, please make water hotter? It's too cold.
_______________________________
This whole parenthood thing just keeps getting better and better, huh?
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