Monday, January 31, 2011

Her words, my son

A friend sent me the link to this post about speech delays. It hit really close to home. As I read her words, I saw W and tears ran down my cheeks. We go through these exact situations day in and day out. It's painful, it's frustrating, and it's enough to make me want to scream.

W's go-to words are "peeese" and "halp." Those two words can mean anything and everything. And they often do. Trying to figure out what any particular "peeese"/"halp" combination means, exactly, takes a good deal of time and patience. And, sadly I (and to a lesser extent, B) am the only one who really knows what he's talking about most of the time. Which just increases his reliance on me at a time when he's supposed to be growing more and more independent. It's infuriating.

We've had him in speech therapy for a couple of months, and he's definitely making improvements. Which is wonderful and crappy at the same time. It's only crappy because we haven't been able to get him evaluated for our state's early intervention program yet, and I'm afraid that he's not going to qualify without the speech delay. As much as I don't want him in the program because I don't want the "special needs" label, I would love for him to have access to more services that our insurance will cover/we can afford. When our 15 visits for the year are done, we won't be able to keep him in his therapies unless we get into this program. It really sucks that our health insurance has found one more way to screw us over. And we have good insurance! I'm half tempted to avoid speech therapy appointments until we've gotten the eval, but I'm not sure it would make any difference.

So we wait. Hoping for improvement. Hoping - mostly secretly - for enough problems to get him the help he really needs. Hoping for the day when his frustrated, insistent "halp" gives way to the incessant toddler chatter I know he's got trapped inside.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

At least he's sharing

Over the past week, W has taken his big brother duties very seriously when it comes to R's ever-expanding palate. It seems like every time W and R are left alone together for even a minute lately, W manages to feed something to the baby. So far this week, W has introduced his little brother to:
  • Goldfish crackers, by way of floor food. There was apparently an errant goldfish somewhere in the living room that R managed to find while he was crawling around.

  • Pancakes, by way of trade. W wanted the teething biscuit R was gumming, and rather than just taking it, he traded R a pancake for it. Wasn't that nice of him?

  • Rice cakes, by way of sharing. I plunked R on the floor while I was vacuuming in the other room, and when I came back, W and R were sitting next to each other munching on rice cakes together. It was actually really cute.
The best one, though, happened today while I was out running some errands. B called me and the first sentence out of his mouth was, "How much of a problem is it if R ate an M&M?" I just started laughing. I guess B had given W a couple of M&Ms, then went to the kitchen for something. While he was out there, R pulled himself up on the gate, and B noticed that he had something blue smeared all over his face. B's exact quote about this was, "I realized what it was right away, but by the time I got to him, the M&M was gone and he was just gumming on the peanut." That's right, it was a PEANUT M&M. Thankfully, R didn't choke on it. And he apparently isn't allergic to peanuts. Double win!

I have no idea how we're going to get W to stop doing this. We've told him numerous times that R can't have whatever it is that he is eating/drinking, but it doesn't seem to be sinking in. And it's almost impossible to watch W every.single.second that he has some sort of food product in his grubby little paws. Luckily, the majority of stuff W eats is pretty baby-just-starting-table-foods friendly, so I don't need to be overly concerned. As long as we keep the peanut M&Ms under close observation, that is.

Saturday, January 29, 2011


While the family and I were hanging out at the neighbors' house the other day, my neighbor (whose son will be three next month) asked me if we had started looking into preschools for W yet. W won't be three before the September 30 preschool cutoff date this year, so we haven't done much looking. By "haven't done much," I mean we haven't done any. It honestly hadn't even been on my radar until this conversation happened.

Out of curiosity, I started doing a bit of research into it tonight. And holy crap is this process going to be a pain in the ass. Not even considering the cost factors (since most places apparently don't put their prices on their websites), there are so many logistical issues we're going to run into.

Here's our situation (that probably won't change before W starts preschool): We live in City T. I work Monday through Friday, 8:30 AM to 4:30 PM (generally; my hours are sometime a bit different depending on trials, emergency hearings, etc.), in City B. B works Monday through Friday, 7:00 AM to 3:00 PM. He generally works in our city or its suburbs, but could potentially work anywhere within a 75 or so mile radius of our house. He will occasionally have to work overtime hours. He also attends classes three nights a week, August through April, from 6:00 to 9:00 PM. The boys both attend a daycare center in City H, which is halfway between my work and home. The center is open Monday through Friday, 7:00 AM to 6:00 PM. Due to work/class schedules and our vehicle situation (B can't fit two car seats in his truck and we aren't really in a position to get a different vehicle for him at the moment), I am primarily responsible for weekday care and transportation.

The first hurdle to choosing a preschool is figuring out which ones are available. There's not really a good source that lists the preschool options available in any given city (that I found, at least). Of the ones I found, a large number don't have websites, so even doing some preliminary scouting is difficult.

The next hurdle is figuring out which city is going to best meet our needs. Currently, the majority of the boys' care providers are in City B. This was done because W's first babysitter was in City B and I worked in City B, so it was easiest for me to take W to doctors in City B. Now that daycare is elsewhere, this isn't as convenient, but I haven't bothered to do anything about it. Mostly because there aren't any really good options for us, being that we're spread over three different cities that are fairly close to each other, but aren't close enough that being spread out over them is still convenient.

The real dilemma is caused by preschool hours. It seems like a lot of these programs are two to three days a week from 8:30 to 11:30 AM or 9:00 AM to noon. For me to drop off/pick up W, his daycare needs to be close to my work and his preschool. I could make this work by flexing my hours a bit and/or giving up my lunch hour. No biggie. This would require a change of daycare centers, though, because it takes me 10 to 15 minutes each way to get W at his current daycare. I really like our current place and don't want to have to move him. If we put him in a preschool in City T, I can drop him off without issue, but picking him up and getting him to daycare will be a major problem. There's only one preschool in City H (I use the word "city" very loosely when referring to this place) and most, if not all, of the preschool-aged kids at the boys' daycare attend it, but there are no transportation options available, and I would have to get to work about an hour late and leave about an hour and a half early to transport him. The drive time between work and daycare would make going back to work after taking W from preschool to daycare senseless. I don't have that kind of paid time off available to me, nor do I always have the flexibility to leave work like that. I could probably set up some sort of carpooling option with other parents, but most, if not all, of them don't take their kids to daycare at all on preschool days.

This probably could be easily solved by enrolling W at a place that has both preschool and daycare available on site, but these types of facilities seem to be few and far between. And those that do offer this option generally seem to have hours that won't work for us (e.g. the center doesn't open until 7:30 AM. This is usually not a problem, but there are some days when I need to be to work by 7:30, and getting there by 7:45 wouldn't be ok). Most of them don't take younger kids, either, which is a problem because I want to keep both boys at the same daycare. I have enough to do in a day; I don't need to add another stop to my morning/evening commutes.

Once we get past all the logistical hurdles, we still have to find a school that's going to be a good fit for W and won't bankrupt us. I'd really like to put him in a Montessori school because I think the Montessori style would really be beneficial for him, but there's no way we'll be able to afford it. I don't know exact dollar amounts, but from everything I've been told, that shit's expensive. We also have to worry about actually getting in to the school(s) we want.

I've considered not sending him to preschool at all, since he'll have about four-ish years of daycare under his belt before kindergarten, but I think W is going to need preschool. Which is unfortunate.

Luckily for me, my kid isn't going to be old enough to go to preschool next year, so I'm just going to pretend tonight's little research project never happened and stick my head back in the sand for another year. For those of you currently going through the preschool search, do you have any tips or tricks to share?

Thursday, January 27, 2011

My mom and her theories

My mom has random theories about a lot of things. I've told you about her one-fertile-time-a-year theory, and now I've learned of another one. She and my aunt have this theory about babies born into our extended family. Apparently, if you're married when you get pregnant, you have a boy. And if you're not, you have a girl.

So far, it's worked out for them. One cousin (unmarried) has a girl. My brother (unmarried x 2) has two girls. B and I (married) have two boys. Another cousin (married and remarried) has three boys and apparently had a baby girl around 20 years ago (when she was unmarried) that she gave up for adoption (I just found out about this one like a week ago).

A third cousin and his wife are expecting their first baby in June. They're married. I totally thought she was going to have a girl, but they found out yesterday that she, in true A Family fashion, is having a boy.

As nuts as my mom's theories might be, they seem to be pretty accurate. And people wonder where I get my weirdness from.

Friday, January 21, 2011

In which I talk about the baby

In typical overworked-under-slept-mother-of-two-fairly-small-children fashion, I have managed to severely neglect chronicling my younger son's milestones. So neglected little R is getting his own post tonight.

This is my baby:

My sweet, happy, adorable baby. My baby who got his great-grandpa's ears (poor thing). My baby who is quickly on his way to turning into a toddler.

In the past couple of months, R has gone from an average-sized baby to a certified chunky monkey. As soon as we put a bite of solid food in that kid's mouth, the weight just piled on. He gained something like six pounds in the six weeks between his six-month check-up and the day he got his tubes put in, and he's just kept going. We have his nine-month check-up in a couple of weeks, and I'm willing to bet he's at least 26 pounds. He's probably also not super tall. Short and chubby. I like it.

Speaking of food, he's a pretty darn good eater. He loves food. When he first started on solids, he didn't like green beans or any fruit but pears, but he seems to have gotten over that. (Except for when it comes to pureed meat. I can't say I blame him. That stuff is disgusting *Shudder*) Sometimes we'll get a WTF face for the first couple of bites of something new, but he usually gets over that pretty quickly and scarfs down the rest. He's just starting to pick up cheerios and puffs and actually get them to his mouth (assuming he can do so before W notices the puffs/cheerios on the highchair tray and eats them). I think it's getting close to time to start feeding him more people food.

I feel a lingering sense of guilt about the fact that I'm not making R's baby food like I did for W. I just don't have the time or free hands to do it. I have started buying mostly Earth's Best baby food, though, which is organic, a little heartier than other baby foods, and doesn't generally smell like pureed ass.

My baby has a great personality. He's quiet and happy, but very determined. It's really interesting to see how different the boys' personalities are. When W was an infant, he made sure everyone around him knew what it was that he wanted. R, on the other hand, has more of a quiet determination about he - he goes after what he wants, but he doesn't make a spectacle of it or throw a fit about it. Don't get me wrong, he'll definitely let you know if you aren't getting food into his belly quickly enough or he's displeased because you stuck him in the bathtub, but luckily that angry side is rare.

R started crawling this week. He hasn't quite mastered it yet - he's still all flailing limbs and face plants - but it gets him where he want to go and he seems to enjoy it. We need to work on updating our baby proofing before he figures out that he can crawl to places other than the living room.

R currently has two teeth, and is apparently working on some more. He's been a cranky mess for the past couple of days, which is so unlike him. He's normally the sweetest, happiest, snuggliest baby ever. And for that I will be forever grateful. I could never have handled another one like W (not gonna lie, I've never once thought about drop kicking this one out a window...which is more than I can say about my older one...).

This is my baby:

And I love him.

So there are my disjointed, sleep deprived ramblings about my baby boy. I vow here and now to try to try to do a better job of keeping up on the stuff going on with my kids so you're never subjected to another post like this one again.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

This week on the internet

It's been a few days since I last posted, and I'd love to give you some content, but I just don't have it in me. Too much other stuff going on.

Instead, I'll link you to some interesting blog posts I've read over the past week or so that I've wanted to talk about, but haven't gotten around to. I want them out of my reader badly enough to just post the links and brief summaries, though. Enjoy.

Both Dooce and Curvy Girl Guide had posts about depression/mental health that really spoke to me.

I found this list of 10 things surprisingly accurate. I think I'll pass it along to B to remind him of a few of the things he sometimes forgets.

Michelle is pregnant! I love when my friends have babies.

Lag Liv's rambling post about discussing work on the internets made a lot of good points, and got me thinking a bit more about this topic.

And finally, Blair puts the stuff I'm thinking on paper much more eloquently than I can. Again.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Musical follies

Let's start with a question. How many parents does it take to tune a guitar?

If you answered, "two, but it'll take them a really long-ass time to do it," you'd be right.

Now, if you're wondering to yourself, "Why the HELL is this completely non-musical woman whose toddler tells her to 'stop' when she sings to him tuning a guitar?" I wouldn't blame you. The fact that I'm "helping" tune a guitar is baffling to me as well. (Quick fun fact - did you know that you have to tune guitar strings to each other? Apparently, if you tune each string separately using the sound that comes from a tuner, you're going to get a very discordant (look at my fancy music word!) result. Also, frets are apparently numbered differently than one might think).

So why is there an ugly, black-with-red-lion-filled-swirls, kid-sized guitar in my living room torturing me right now? Because my counselor thinks music will be a good outlet for W's stress.

Hear me out.

Today's topic of discussion was coping with W, who is driving me bat shit crazy lately. Among other things, we discussed his sensitive personality. The conclusion my counselor (who doesn't work with kids but used to until she got fed up with dealing with the parents) reached is that W uses me to soothe himself. I'm like his living, breathing lovey. Which is all well and good for him, but not so much for me. We came up with some strategies to help break him of that habit, one of which was giving W some outlets for his stress. As a sensitive kid, my counselor surmises that W feels a lot of stress because he's not very good at self-soothing, and he need some sort of outlet for that. She suggested music. I'm desperate to make life with this kid more consistently tolerable, so I figured we'd try it.

Side note - my counselor also keeps throwing around the word "gifted" in relation to W, but I'm not sure I buy into that. I mean, this is the kid who would sit and splash in the toilet after he peed in it if we let him and enjoys drinking his own bath water. That doesn't scream "advanced intellect" to me at all.

I stopped at the store on my way home, and my only real options for toddler-sized musical instruments were a harmonica and a guitar. I figured B would punch me in the face if I gave W a harmonica (he has a very low tolerance for noise...makes life with two small children difficult sometimes), so guitar it was.

Which brings us to now. B and I have spent the last two hours trying to tune this damn thing, and it still sounds like ass. We both realize that a tuned guitar doesn't matter at this point, but if we have to listen to W playing on it, we want the noise he produces to be as aurally pleasing as possible.

Unfortunately, even after all our effort, strumming it still makes our ears bleed (as B put it, "I hear three sharp notes and four flat notes...and it only has six strings!"), so we're calling it for the night. No good is going to come of spending another hour working to perfect its pitch, and our new family member just might get smashed into the wall if we invest much more time in this. I think I'll give it another shot tomorrow.

For now, I'm just going to hope W isn't in the mood for stress relief tomorrow. And if he is, I hope I can locate some ear plugs.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Fashion victim 101

This is one of those posts where I implore my readers to come out of the woodwork and give me advice. Fashion advice, in this instance. I'm working on adultifying and accessorizing my wardrobe (particularly my work wardrobe...I wear regular clothes so infrequently any more that I'm not too concerned about my regular wardrobe). So, dear readers, please save me from myself and help me with the following:

1. Tights

Am I the kind of person who can pull off argyle tights? I found these tights today and sort of fell in love with them. I threw these two outfits together, but I'm not sure they work. Thoughts? (Please excuse the crappy cell phone camera pics and the apparently really, really dirty hallway mirror).

Option One: Brown sweater, white cami, tan skirt, brown shoes. You'll just have to trust me when I tell you that the browns in the tights match the browns in my clothes.

Option Two: Blue sweater, brown cami, tan skirt, brown shoes.

This is also a tights-related outfit. Are the black tights/shoes ok with this dress? If I wear this out of the house, I'll put a black cami under it. I was just too lazy to go find one. I'm not sure about this dress, though. I sort of feel like it makes me look pregnant.

2. Shoes

I'm at the point in my life where I feel like I need to buy some investment shoes. You know, shoes that cost more than $20. I've decided that I need heels that are as comfortable as old-lady heels, but that are cute enough for someone who isn't even 30 yet. Any brands or styles you can suggest for me?

3. Jewelry

Where can I get some fun jewelry? And what should I buy?

Please save me from myself. Please?

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Resolution ring

I mentioned in my resolution post that I was thinking about getting a piece of jewelry with "peace" on it as my reminder of my word for the year. I spent some time on Etsy tonight looking for something perfect. And I found it in the Bouton Rouge Designs shop. The single-word-resolution-on-jewelry thing must be pretty popular because this shop has specific resolution rings with the word of choice stamped on the part of the ring that faces your palm, to keep it private. I love that idea.

I really don't want to have to explain to my mom, my husband, my coworkers, and others why I wear a ring that says "peace." It's one thing to write to an internet full of strangers and not-so-strange-ers about my resolution ring. It's something else entirely to have to stammer out the premise to people's faces. Maybe that's because this is something kind of out-of-character for me, and I'm not sure how people I know in real life will react. I know some of my real-life friends read this blog, but it's different. When they read about my plan, they can roll their eyes all they want and I never have to see it. It's a win-win. I'll stop rambling about this now.

Anyway, I bought the simplified resolution ring and decided that I'm going to wear it on the same finger as my engagement and wedding rings. I figure adding another slim band to that finger will be less conspicuous that starting to wear a ring on a different finger all the time (I don't really do accessories, so adding a daily ring will draw attention). I'm super excited to get it.

I also fell in love with half of the stuff in her shop, and have officially decided I could easily blow my fun money for the rest of the year there. I love everything from shiny twigs to peacock pearls to weathered tags, square rings (this was a close second for my resolution ring), equilibrium, spring, and tuxedo pearls (OMG, I WANT this necklace!). There's so much more, too. I think you should check her out.

While I was searching for my ring, I came across this shop, which makes these fun acrylic rings. I bought two. I'm on a bit of a quest to accessorize more, and I thought these would be a good addition to my pathetic accessory collection. Plus, they were buy one, get one free. I bought this one with an "E" and this one. The only thing that would make them better is if they came in colors. But color is scary, so black and white is probably a better first step for me.

Just in case anyone is wondering, this isn't a paid advertisement. Neither of these Etsy shop owners know anything about me or gave me stuff or anything like that. I just liked what I saw and wrote about it. The end.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Same old song and dance

Question of the day: How long after birthing a kid can you claim your depression is postpartum and get away with it?

I'm beginning to think I'm on the brink of not being able to hide behind that nice little PPD label any more. I might actually have to own up to the fact that I'm mentally unbalanced all on my own.

My appointment with my counselor on Wednesday confirmed what I already knew - I'm depressed. Again. Or still, probably. The crippling apathy? Depression. The burning desire to run far, far away from my life? Depression. The vivid fantasies I keep having about being single and childless? Depression. The little "talking to" I got at work a couple of weeks ago about my (lack of) productivity? Depression.

I'm in a, um, super awesome place right now. Can you tell?

The lecture from my boss is what prompted me to call my counselor again. Though I've known for months that I needed some help, in typical fashion, I put it off and off and off until things reached a critical mass.

My counselor suggested (with the required caveat that she's not a medical doctor) that I probably need to have my medicine changed. She gave me something I can try with my current meds until I can get myself switched. She wants to see me again. I thoroughly like this woman and love that she tells me how beautiful my babies are, but seeing her means I'm broken (at least in my effed up brain...leave me alone...). Blah. Even though I can't seem to muster up the emotions to feel anything but nothing about anything in my life (except for stuff I'm still actively messing up, which causes some small twinges of anxiety), I've managed to find shame in needing mental health assistance. Good for me.

I don't really have much else to say about this right now. Other than mentioning that I've managed to avoid calling my OB for a conversation about changing my meds all week. The depression rears its ugly head again. Maybe some day I'll be able to put all this behind me. Blah.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Never a dull moment

In today's installment of my life, my children got locked in my van!

As some background, W loves playing in the car whenever he can get away with it, and does whatever he can to worm his way into the front seat. When R was still in his infant car seat, this wasn't an issue because I would just plop R's seat on the ground and get W loaded up first. Now, however, R's in a convertible seat and I have to put him in first. Most days, W will run around being W for a couple of minutes while I get R settled. Not today.

We were on our way out of daycare. I went to put R in the van, and W started trying to push past me. He was successful. He got up to the driver's seat, found my keys, and started trying to jam some random key into the ignition. I finished with R, closed his door, opened the front passenger door (W was moving that direction), took the keys from him, put them in my coat pocket, then reached in and wrangled the toddler. I closed the door and immediately opened the back door, got W in his seat, closed the door, and started walking to the driver's seat. Just as I was about to grab the handle, I heard my locks click.

If a door is open when someone pushes the lock button in my van, the doors don't actually lock until about 10 seconds after all the doors are closed. Apparently, W must have pushed the lock button while I was getting R buckled in/wrangling W, but the doors weren't all closed long enough until I was trying to get myself back in. When I heard the locks, I had a moment of panic, but remembered my keys were in my pocket.

Except they weren't.

I saw them sitting on the front passenger seat. They must have fallen out of my pocket when I was trying to grab W. Which left me in the position of having no keys, no phone, and both children firmly locked in my vehicle in the freezing cold. Hand me my mother-of-the-year award.

I went back into the center, spent a few minutes desperately trying to get a hold of B (I know his personal cell number but not his work cell number, and he apparently didn't have his personal cell on him tonight. At first I thought that he wasn't answering because he didn't recognize the number, but if some unfamiliar number calls me five or six times in less than a minute, I would answer. I wanted to call his work cell, but he has a different work cell number now than he did when we filled out the emergency contact forms for daycare. Major fail), then called the local sheriff's office for a rescue.

Half an hour later, two deputies pull up to my van. When I went out to meet them, one remarked that I was surprisingly calm for someone who had locked her two small children in the car. That comment prompted me to explain that MY TODDLER had locked my two small children in the car. Deputy One laughed at me and said he normally blames himself, not the kids, when he locks them in the car. I said I wasn't taking credit for this one. The officers laughed, then got to work. A couple of minutes later, the van was unlocked and we were on our way.

Like I said, never a dull moment.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011


Today's edition is just a bulleted list of random thoughts. Because I'm not feeling capable of stringing anything else together tonight.
  • I broke out a new nail polish color for my toes tonight. When I bought it online, the website said it was a matte color, but I don't think it's actually matte. And I'm not sure I'm a fan, even for toes.

  • This is the first time I've put a fresh coat of paint on my toes since Memorial Day weekend. I've painted over the remnants from that polishing a few different times when my toes needed to look semi-presentable from a distance, but haven't actually removed and reapplied.

  • I have to go to the orthopedist tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure I'm getting another cortisone shot in my ass crack tailbone. If you've never been lucky enough to get a cortisone shot, they hurt. I couldn't sit after my last one. I'm going at lunchtime, which means the numbing stuff is going to wear off long before I get home after work. Tomorrow has the potential to be a really, really long day.

  • I'm also seeing my counselor for the first time in, oh, about six months tomorrow. I have so much shit I need to talk about and figure out that I've literally made a written list. If you had any doubts about the extent of my Type-A-ness, your doubts have just been put to rest. You're welcome.

  • R is teething hardcore right now. His first tooth popped through the day after Christmas, and its partner came out to play yesterday. Both of them are just barely through, but I'm really sad that this means the end of my toothless grin days. I love toothless baby grins.

  • I suppose I can get some toothless baby grins out of my grandkids some day...but I'm pretty sure W is going to be living in our basement until he's well into his 40s, which dims my hopes of grandkids. R is too little for me to assess yet.

  • I've gotten into the habit of calling R "Punky." It somehow evolved from me calling him "Punkin." It actually went from "Punkin" to "Punkin pie" to "Punky pie" to just "Punky." I kinda like it, and it fits him, I think. I'm considering using it as his blog name because 1). I like it, and 2). it's the only nickname I have for him that doesn't involve his real name in some way or isn't something super-generic like "Buddy."

  • If I start calling R "Punky" around here, that means I'm going to have to come up with something to call W. But I don't have a non-name-including nickname for him. I call him "Bud" and "Dude" a lot, but those are pretty blah.

  • I have to shave tomorrow, and I'm dreading it. I hate shaving. Plus, I think we're out of shaving cream.

  • I got a Droid X a couple of weeks ago (did I mention that here?), and I looooooooove it. I feel guilty about spending a bit more than we should have on our new phones, but the Kindle app assuages my guilt a bit. I love being able to read while I'm nursing R in the dark.

  • I'm currently reading some crappy Christian romance novel on my Kindle app. It's pretty awful. One particularly painful passage: "He had no right to kiss her. He wasn't prepared to make the commitment that should accompany last night's passionate kiss...If only he could find a way to make the unspoken promise he'd given her through his kiss a reality and spend the rest of his life with her." And there's plenty more where that came from. But I'm 88% finished, so I feel like I should complete it. Damn you, stupid free Kindle downloads!

  • I like the word "assuage." I don't have nearly enough occasion to use it.

  • B gets way too into "his team" when it comes to college football. Case in point: they're soundly kicking the crap out of their opponent right now, and B is still sitting over there yelling at the TV.

  • I made chicken and noodles on Saturday, and have been eating the leftovers since. I love the stuff, but really don't want to pack it for my lunch tomorrow because I've had it twice a day pretty much every day since Saturday. But there's a lot left, and B isn't eating his share. Maybe instead of eating another bowl, I'll take my abused butt crack out to lunch after my ortho appointment tomorrow to make it less mad at me.

  • I want a part-time, work-from-home copy editing or proofreading job. I have no idea how I would even go about that.

  • I want to get a Ph.D. Not right now, but some day. Even though I do case law and statutory research on a daily basis, I miss doing research that involves subjects and variables.

  • I still owe my best friend part of her Christmas present, but I'm having a difficult time tracking it down. I think the only way to get it is going to be making a trek to our college town, and I don't see that happening any time soon.

  • I miss my faraway friends. I wish I had the time/money/lack of spawn to be able to visit them.

  • I miss my local friends. I've been doing a shittastic job of being a friend and making friend-like efforts lately.

  • I'm tired. My goal for tonight it to actually fall asleep early enough to get more than three or four hours of sleep.

  • I think I'm going to work on meeting my sleep goal for tonight. Hopefully my toes are dry enough to avoid the dreaded sheet lines.
What's your randomness for tonight?

Monday, January 3, 2011

B is concerned

W was helping out with his favorite chore - throwing clothes down the laundry chute - when he grabbed a couple of articles and ran downstairs. I followed to see what he was up to, and this is what I found:

I showed this to B when he got home, and he was not impressed. I'm just wondering if this means I should be more careful about letting W see me while I'm getting dressed...