Thursday, September 27, 2007
look who's two
That would be Oona. I know, it's a little confusing since karate Owen is monopolizing the presents, what is it with first born's being so darn needy? And it's okay for me to say that since I'm an only child and the generalization is that we're even needier. Oona got a 'little people' suv with a mommy and baby, which I figured she'd like because she could do imitative play and we're in the car a lot. She also got a grocery cart that she can fill with store items or any of her other toys. She likes to put a baby doll in the grocery cart with a blanket and then give her a bottle of 'milk', which is actually a bottle of play mustard. Yummy! Happy Birthday you sweet little girl you.
Monday, September 24, 2007
message from the soapbox
I'm not a physics professor, oh how I wish that I were that would be super cool, or an accident reconstructionist but I agree 100% with everything this guy has written about cell phone use while driving. Please read it! If you talk on the phone while driving hopefully this article will be enough to make you strongly reconsider. I have enough distractions with two kids in the backseat, I can barely manage listening to the radio as well and I know I wouldn't be able to focus while driving and talking on a phone at the same time. Plus I have seen way to many people blow through stop signs (at Owen's school with kids trying to cross with a crossing guard!!!) and red lights while on a cell phone. I figure if people try to pass laws limiting cell phone use with teen drivers or school bus drivers they should just ban it for everyone, it's obviously a danger to everyone. And you people that say 'but I'm on a hands free phone' it's just as bad. Seriously, I could start a cell phone version of MADD I'm so against it. I hate even seeing it depicted on TV. Oh and when people get in cars and don't put on their seatbelt on TV, it drives me crazy. Fortunately Owen has picked up on my Bobby Brady-like hall monitor of the World ways and will say stuff like 'Mom, that man isn't wearing a helmet on his motorcylce' he's even admonished Toby for using a cell while driving, since I told him to yell at anyone who does that while he's in the car. Hey I'm not going to let anyone drive my kids around drunk and driving while talking on a cell phone is the equivalent to driving drunk. Don't believe me? Read the article, I beg you! And then send it off to other people who think it's no big deal to drive and talk on the phone at the same time. I'll be off my soapbox in my next post, I promise.
Friday, September 21, 2007
aarp membership should be arriving any day now
So I wrote a couple weeks ago about having surgery on my eyelid to get two suspicious moles removed. Well, they were biopsied and it turns out it was non cancerous lentigo, otherwise known as liver spots. Nothing like being told you have liver spots to make you feel old and start researching non-invasive skin treatments to restore that youthful glow, my mantra is fraxel at forty. I had this surgery 3 weeks ago, but yesterday I woke up with a bruise on the lid that looks like a drunk was putting permanent liner on me and gave up halfway through it. I went to the doctor today and he said it's very curious. It's not infected and there's no real reason it should suddenly bruise like that. He speculated that since new blood vessels, which are friable, are growing there, if I rubbed my lid too vigorously it could cause them to break. But I haven't really rubbed that eyelid. I asked him what to do if it got worse and he said talk to my GP because then there might be blood issues if I'm bruising easily. How I love growing old!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
everyone poops
This post is more advice seeking from any green Heloise types in the blogosphere. I try my best to minimize our carbon footprint, no small task when I've got a 5 year old and a husband who always leave the lights on after leaving a room. Maybe it was the years of doing photo retouching in the dark but I never turn on the lights unless absolutely necesary. Still any electric frugality on my part is totally offset by the males in this house and our Freestyle which gets much worse mileage than was originally listed on the sticker. Toby works for the Union so we have to buy American cars and due to my late onset driving phobia I need a car that I feel safe in next to all the Ford 250's and Excursions on the road. Our Civic got great mileage but I was terrified if someone bumped into us we'd be goners. But the real reason I'm writing is to figure out how to effectively deal with all the stinky poo that my cats and daughter produce. I always put stinky diapers and the litter in a plastic bag and then put it in the garbage. If I don't bag it the house stinks up pretty soon. There must be an alternative to using all these plastic bags but I don't know what it is. I could do paper bags but I don't think that will contain the smell. I've thought of putting everything in a diaper genie in the basement but if the cats get bothered by the smell I'm worried they might let me know by peeing or pooping on something and we already lost a mattress due to a really smelly, pissed off cat peeing on it. So if anyone has a tried and true trick for curbing the poo smell I'd love to hear it.
Monday, September 17, 2007
guilty conscience
If you're a Mom like me you've probably seen most of the Pixar films so many times you can easily reference them for everyday life situations. Like I keep hearing Wallace Shawn, who voiced the dinosaur in Toy Story & Toy Story 2, saying 'Oh no, now I have guilt!' after they throw Woody off the moving truck towards the end of Toy Story. You see I now have massive guilt for saying negative things about Oona in the previous post. If there are any readers of this blog who only know me from the internet I must sound so bitchy. I probably sound bitchy to people who know me too. I hope any loyal readers of this blog realize that I was having a bad, overwhelming week and have since recovered. Oona seems to react to the gradual light changes in the spring and fall, her sleep/napping schedule gets thrown out of week and she tends to be fussier as a result. I try not to give in when she screams or acts up since I don't want to reinforce her negative behavior. I know that sounds cold but I really try to ignore it, well I can't ignore it but I act like I am since the books and doctors and every other kid authority tells me that's what you're supposed to do. Still, I also totally spoil and overindulge Oona, usually with chocolate and letting her use me as her personal jungle gym. She really is a dear, sweet little girl who, with her strong temper, will be no shrinking violet as an adult, to which I'm eternally grateful. The girl has moxie. She's such a sweet soul though. If I sneeze or cough, I've had a cold for a few days now, she'll say 'Okay Mommy?' in this voice full of concern. If Owen's crying she'll look at me very serious and say 'Owen sad.' and run over to pat his back or give him a hug. You know, I'm sure I get on her nerves from time to time, when I don't let her eat cheese puffs for breakfast or let her have treats all day long, but I felt really bad after that last post. It's not like she can read and post a flaming comment up to get back at me for saying that stuff.
Friday, September 14, 2007
carousel
Can I just say that if I die prematurely my children will have a hard time recalling what I look like since I'm the family photographer, I'm always behind the camera never in front of it. I'm fine with that role as the few pictures I take of myself, you can pretty much guarantee an unflattering shot doing it that way, are quickly deleted and make me think how cruel time can be to facial skin. The only real documents of my face will be grainy pictures from the photo booth on the computer. But this post isn't about that. No, I'm feeling so beaten by my kids lately whom I love so much but with Toby working long hours and being in school on top of that, it's just me with the kids a lot. My only free time from them is an hour at the gym and I'm starting to feel like I need more. Twice this week Oona hasn't napped and she's reached the terrible two's a bit early. She's usually a dear, loving child but if the girl doesn't get her way, look out. She screams at a pitch that makes me feel like a cat is using my heart as a scratching post. If the screaming doesn't get a hoped for reaction she likes to bang her head on the floor or wall. Finally if I continue to ignore the bad behavior she comes up to me and will try to bite or hit me. I will put her down on the floor and walk to the other side of the room but all this negative, attention seeking behavior can get on your nerves after a while. Owen's in school now and is older so it's not as bad with him but yesterday he had off and was whining incessantly. Whining about where his juice was when I just gave him a vitamin I replied a bit harshly, 'Don't be so rude I haven't even walked over to the refrigerator yet. I'm not Ganesh' Yeah, that was a great response. I'm not quite the master of how to talk so kids will listen. You know it's all typical almost two and five year old behavior but I feel like I've been having a Calgon moment for days.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
oona's best friend
Now normally I frown upon animal cruelty but in Frodo's case he seems to have a masochistic relationship with Oona. Oona doesn't mean to be rough with him, it's just that she's not even two yet, so she can be a bit overly enthusiastic when she hugs, pets or otherwise plays with Frodo. But Frodo just loves her. Whenever he sees her he comes over and rubs against her legs then rolls over on his back for her to pat his tummy. She will regularly put him down for a nap, covering him up in a blanket then patting his head while saying 'night night' and bending over to give him a kiss. I wouldn't be all that surprised if a dog was letting a child do this to them, but a cat? It seems to go against the very stereotype of catlike behavior? I've had to scold her in the past for pulling at the cat's tail and he doesn't even seem phased by it if it's her, not that anyone else is yanking the cat's tail. I mean Frodo is awful friendly with me too but I think that has more to do with the fact that I feed him and clean the litter box. Sam seems to prefer Owen, but he likes Owen when he's asleep, then he sleeps on his bed with him. Toby feels that neither of the cats like him and keeps talking about getting a dog but I feel like I'm cleaning up enough poop currently.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
oops
Totally forgot in relaying Oona's massive poop explosion at the school that I had surgery on my eyelid right before that incident. No biggie, I just needed to get a couple freckles removed and biopsied. I think they should be fine but my dermatologist was a bit concerned because they were getting larger and darker and it's not like you've got a lot of skin to work with when we're talking about the eyelid. Everything went fine, the hardest part was getting the shots in the eyelid, but Dr. Choo worked his magic and my eyelid looks great if a bit shiny, since I need to put antibiotic ointment on it. I get my one stitch removed tomorrow the other couple stitches have already fallen out. So here's me with the kids at our 'photo booth' Owen is addicted to this thing. He does long series of photos, he told his kindergarten teacher he wants to be an artist when he grows up. I want to put a book together of his photo booth series for him for Christmas. Seems safer than buying him some plastic crap from China, that and I've got a stuffed monkey planned somewhere in my future.
first day of school
Oh my word, so much has happened the past week I haven't had a chance to catch my breath. Since I last wrote...
Wednesday night: Owen got a temp from his immunizations and later puked all over his sheets comforter and assorted stuffed animals that sleep on his bed. 3 loads of laundry later Owen was still alternately sleeping of crying about feeling so sick and his throat hurting
Thursday: A visit to the doctor has an amazing placebo effect and Owen starts seeming like his usual self again.
Friday: Owen's kindergarten readiness assessment, he does very well and his teacher seems quite impressed by him but not so much by Oona, who poops all over a chair and makes a trail of poop to the piano in the classroom. There was a huge turd the size of a large stone - I have no idea how that escaped her diaper and little panties let alone how she pooped and leaked as much as she did. His teacher was very nice about it and I whisked Oona away poop trailing down her leg while Toby cleaned up the scene and brought Owen and the rest of our stuff.
Saturday: We're at our niece's for her 2nd birthday party and one of the mom's there is trying to get Oona and her cousin, Maeve, to follow her ten second toy switch rule which she insists works for kids wanting the same toy. Give it to one child for ten seconds then hand it over to the other, back and forth til one tires of this. She does this with Maeve and Oona who both want the doodle pad, I'm biting my cheeks and bracing my head to keep from shaking it while both girls devolve into full blown temper tantrums but the mom insists that Maeve is getting it. Owen's complaining of a stiff neck and holding his neck and shoulder at a weird angle - is it a strain? sprain? meningitis from his shots? after an ennervating call with the triage nurse, a bath and some tylenol he seems much better.
Sunday: Spaghetti dinner with Toby's parents, his Grandma and my Grandma, who is quite forgetful and keeps flattering Toby's Mom by telling her she looks more like his sister than his mother.
Monday: A brief lull where we hang out at North Park with Toby's brother and family
Tuesday: Owen, Oona and I go to get Owen shoes for school. Me and every other mother with a child starting school seem to be at the shoe store.
Wednesday: One last hurrah of strawberry milk and chocolate croissants for Owen and Oona before school starts, really is it any wonder my kids are picky eaters.
Today: We get Owen to school. I plaster down his cowlick at the last minute with a baby wipe. It's total chaos in the auditorium where the children meet. None of us kindergarten parents have been told what happens. We bring the kids to there classroom and the teacher is explaining stuff but I hear none of it because Oona is flipping out, wanting to join in on the kindergarten fun.
So I go to the office to try and get a packet that will explain everything I haven't yet been told - how much is lunch? when does school end for them? where do I pick Owen up? I try to go to a parent meeting in the auditorium but Oona once again starts acting like she's possessed screaming at the top of her lungs and trying to bust out of the stroller. We leave and head over to visit my Grandma for an hour then come back and Oona goes to bed after lunch. It's so quiet and peaceful now but I've got all those fun chores that creep up on mom's before going to pick up Owen.
Wednesday night: Owen got a temp from his immunizations and later puked all over his sheets comforter and assorted stuffed animals that sleep on his bed. 3 loads of laundry later Owen was still alternately sleeping of crying about feeling so sick and his throat hurting
Thursday: A visit to the doctor has an amazing placebo effect and Owen starts seeming like his usual self again.
Friday: Owen's kindergarten readiness assessment, he does very well and his teacher seems quite impressed by him but not so much by Oona, who poops all over a chair and makes a trail of poop to the piano in the classroom. There was a huge turd the size of a large stone - I have no idea how that escaped her diaper and little panties let alone how she pooped and leaked as much as she did. His teacher was very nice about it and I whisked Oona away poop trailing down her leg while Toby cleaned up the scene and brought Owen and the rest of our stuff.
Saturday: We're at our niece's for her 2nd birthday party and one of the mom's there is trying to get Oona and her cousin, Maeve, to follow her ten second toy switch rule which she insists works for kids wanting the same toy. Give it to one child for ten seconds then hand it over to the other, back and forth til one tires of this. She does this with Maeve and Oona who both want the doodle pad, I'm biting my cheeks and bracing my head to keep from shaking it while both girls devolve into full blown temper tantrums but the mom insists that Maeve is getting it. Owen's complaining of a stiff neck and holding his neck and shoulder at a weird angle - is it a strain? sprain? meningitis from his shots? after an ennervating call with the triage nurse, a bath and some tylenol he seems much better.
Sunday: Spaghetti dinner with Toby's parents, his Grandma and my Grandma, who is quite forgetful and keeps flattering Toby's Mom by telling her she looks more like his sister than his mother.
Monday: A brief lull where we hang out at North Park with Toby's brother and family
Tuesday: Owen, Oona and I go to get Owen shoes for school. Me and every other mother with a child starting school seem to be at the shoe store.
Wednesday: One last hurrah of strawberry milk and chocolate croissants for Owen and Oona before school starts, really is it any wonder my kids are picky eaters.
Today: We get Owen to school. I plaster down his cowlick at the last minute with a baby wipe. It's total chaos in the auditorium where the children meet. None of us kindergarten parents have been told what happens. We bring the kids to there classroom and the teacher is explaining stuff but I hear none of it because Oona is flipping out, wanting to join in on the kindergarten fun.
So I go to the office to try and get a packet that will explain everything I haven't yet been told - how much is lunch? when does school end for them? where do I pick Owen up? I try to go to a parent meeting in the auditorium but Oona once again starts acting like she's possessed screaming at the top of her lungs and trying to bust out of the stroller. We leave and head over to visit my Grandma for an hour then come back and Oona goes to bed after lunch. It's so quiet and peaceful now but I've got all those fun chores that creep up on mom's before going to pick up Owen.
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