How do I say this cutely - I poured an entire large coffee from Tim Hortons on my creamy khaki capris clad lap about half way through the 90 min. drive to my ceilidh (fiddle concert) last night. Good job. I thought I could just send the dancer that is always there home to get me a pair of pants to borrow, but Chris thought it better to check local clothes merchants first. So I ended up having to pick up a pair of semi-strange denim highwaters for $25. Not something I would normally do, but I was in a pinch, as my entire underside was a tad bit coffeefied, I was headed on stage in like 20 minutes, and most other options in this tourist trap were upwards of $100, most of them slight little summer dresses or -Ack! - shorts! Heaven help us, my white legs in shorts... let's not go there. SOME of us are not blessed with Maori colouring. :)
Ms. Clouseau is of course a reference to the accident prone Jacques Clouseau in the Pink Panther detective movies from the 70's.
-------------------
I always thought those people were weird who could rhyme off incredibly detailed information about sports history/trivia, like who pitched for what team, what game, what year and their stats.
Then I realized I'm basically like that for fiddle stuff. I have scared people on more than one occasion. I'm wicked at playing "Name That Fiddler" within a certain stylistic spectrum. I trip people out when I tell them who is playing piano or fiddle on some home tape I have never heard, and what year it likely was. So I guess I'm a higher ranking geek than I knew.
Hey, can you get a cookie for that? I should look into it. I would love a cookie.
-------------
Anna has started a delightful new game of quizzing/drilling me on Irish vocabulary! I love it, and think it is hilarious too. She will go on for Quite a goodly time asking, "What is fridge in Iwish? What is window in Iwish? What is couch in Iwish?" etc. indefinitely, til I get a sizeable unsolicited, but much appreciated review session of every noun she can think of. Isn't that funny or is it just me?
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Oh foolish girl...
I stood still in the middle of my kitchen with an anticipitory excitement: Free time! Could it be??? I was in shellshocked disbelief for a moment. So - what will I do??? Daring not to waste a crumb, I quickly decided what the funnest thing at the moment would be.
I put on the kettle for a pot of hot starbucks coffee, a gift from a beautiful friend, -thank you! - and ran to my closet to fish out the afghan I had been working on before someone else came and decided to occupy my hands for 16 hours of the day. Not that I begrudge said person, but still.
I french-pressed my coffee, poured the fresh cream, got my crochet hook and strolled very pleased over to the table to sit with Anna, and sip my hot joe.
heard in the distance :
**waaa! waaa!**
She woke up.
Oh well.
There was a beautiful moment of grown up, relaxed quiet and indulgence. But then after some nursing, of COURSE, there is always nursing, she had such big smiles and coos for us, I knew this was much better than any old afghan. And I still got to sit and sip my coffee while she had her num nums. Yay for baby smiles! They are the best.
In other news, the ceilidhs are going great. They totally recharge my batteries. I guess I have come to a point in my playing or reached a level where it doesn't take as much to maintain the performance level. Certainly a couple years ago, I would never have been able to play these with as little practice as I have had. Whether it is God's pure grace, or I just got better, I'm doing way better than expected. Another yay!
Surgery recovery was remarkable. I'm great. Disgusting tasting chinese herbs are making nursing comfortable and enjoyable. Yay! Niamh is sleeping well at night. Daytime naps are another story... although God gave us swings to save us from the Valley of the Shadow of Desperation. I am doing better at speaking Irish to the girls, which makes me feel like much less of a slacker.
Hey - by any chance - are there any employers in the Dallas/Ft.Worth area reading this who would like to hire my dad? He needs a job.
Though we have been having tons of rain, about which locals are complaining profusely, I am SO enjoying the summer! All I need is green. Jenni is happy with green.
So as not to leave you without a picture, this is a proud Anna last week, displaying her work : writing her name for the first time. I didn't even know she was working on it. She just walked over and showed me. "Yook, Mommy, I wote my name!" And she had. What a girl.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Aahh... the life of a Holstein....
akin to my own current life.
Minus all the grass.
Today is Chris' birthday! Happy Birthday, Sweety! Not that he reads this. I made him one of our favourite dishes. Everyone who samples it decides it is one of their favourites as well. It is a family recipe called Roman Round pie. If anyone wants the recipe, I can email copies out. It really is excellent.
So we had yummy food, as is a-priori in my opinion for a birthday, and Chris spent the morning at a barn-raising : his own! He is working on building a barn. Big project, but he is the man for the job. Handy, as I mentioned before.
A funny thing I can mention is this : if anyone is flying WestJet in the next month, may I recommend you leaf through the seat-back magazine that will be in front of you? I'm in it!!! My bro and sis-in-law were recently on WestJet and as they were leafing , stopped short and said , Hey! That's Jen! And it was! How crazy is that? It is a picture of me at one of my ceilidhs with a brief telling of my from-Kansas-City story. Of course, not a Jenni-approved picture, not what I would call flattering, but so funny! Totally unexpected, I had no idea I was going to be in a magazine. Not that one anyway. Certainly no one got my permission!
So there ya go.
That's the stories for now.
Happy summer, everybody!
Minus all the grass.
Today is Chris' birthday! Happy Birthday, Sweety! Not that he reads this. I made him one of our favourite dishes. Everyone who samples it decides it is one of their favourites as well. It is a family recipe called Roman Round pie. If anyone wants the recipe, I can email copies out. It really is excellent.
So we had yummy food, as is a-priori in my opinion for a birthday, and Chris spent the morning at a barn-raising : his own! He is working on building a barn. Big project, but he is the man for the job. Handy, as I mentioned before.
A funny thing I can mention is this : if anyone is flying WestJet in the next month, may I recommend you leaf through the seat-back magazine that will be in front of you? I'm in it!!! My bro and sis-in-law were recently on WestJet and as they were leafing , stopped short and said , Hey! That's Jen! And it was! How crazy is that? It is a picture of me at one of my ceilidhs with a brief telling of my from-Kansas-City story. Of course, not a Jenni-approved picture, not what I would call flattering, but so funny! Totally unexpected, I had no idea I was going to be in a magazine. Not that one anyway. Certainly no one got my permission!
So there ya go.
That's the stories for now.
Happy summer, everybody!
Sunday, July 08, 2007
For the image deprived.
This was taken in the hospital by my sis-in-law.
Will get around to saying something later. If you want to know what is going on with me, you can revisit the post from June 17th.
Oh yes. More infections. I got a Sabbath in between and that's it. One the other. Crazy and annoying. Oh, and painful. But hey. I have a beautiful punkin' to admire while I peer through squinty aching eyes. And now she will smile, and what is cooler than that??
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
"Optimist finds the good in pessimism"
If you are dreading something, then it turns out to be not as bad as you feared, then it ends up seeming really good!
On a totally other note, and by the way, I'm not wanting to start people arguing with me on this one, I heard about some guy on the news who is being charged for 2 murders because he killed a pregnant woman. How is it that the courts see that as a double murder, but abortion is not a single one? Weird. Ya ya, people will argue with me that it's that whole, at what specific point does it become a person thing. Whatever. That just sounded really inconsistent to me. But that is man's justice for you- imperfect.
On a totally other note, and by the way, I'm not wanting to start people arguing with me on this one, I heard about some guy on the news who is being charged for 2 murders because he killed a pregnant woman. How is it that the courts see that as a double murder, but abortion is not a single one? Weird. Ya ya, people will argue with me that it's that whole, at what specific point does it become a person thing. Whatever. That just sounded really inconsistent to me. But that is man's justice for you- imperfect.
Monday, June 25, 2007
all manner of randomness
I'm stealing Mary's "random thoughts" format, cause it works for me. Thanks again, Mary. Do I need to start paying you royalties for your contributions to my blog? hehehe
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to whomever decides to buy the super scratchy and remarkably thin toilet paper in places like hospitals, office buildings, etc.: do you really save money using this stuff when one has to use a mile of it to do the job of 4 squares of charmin? Not that I'm suggesting everyone buy charmin, at all, but there are any number of available happy mediums.
--------------------------------
Overheard at our dinnertable one night:
"What's for supper?"
"Caterpillar toe. "
Sounds filling, eh? I thought so. Priceless moments that only a 3 year old can bring to your life.
-------------------------------
Only a newborn can spend 9 months in a bath and not come out pruney.
------------------------------
No wild ride of excitement compares to a 3-5am silent session of sitting and staring with a newborn. Let me tell ya. Wowy. There is no singing or game or toy that might entertain them or even incite their notice in any way. So entertaining consists of switching positions, largely. Sit up, lean back, lay down, sit up, lean forward, over the shoulder, over the arm, over the other shoulder, in a chair, "stand" up, lay on the floor ... mmm hmm. Party hardy, Marty. Although I have found a walkman really helps, and sometimes the baby will let you play air-piano with them, and boy that passes the time.
--------------------------------
Yes, laugh if you must, I still use a walkman. We have an IPOD, but I haven't really figured it out. He mainly uses it. And all my old home-tapes of fiddling are on cassette, so yes, I am still in cassette/walkman land. I had a young person ask me what a walkman was. Wow I felt old. It's not an 8-track for pete's sake! Oh, and apparently computers don't even come with floppy drives anymore. Where was I? (Monastery.... in my kitchen... a place that knows no time, apparently)
------------------------------
It is far better just to never get sick in the first place, as pretty well any treatment I can think of for various illnesses and disesase is really not fun or even remotely pleasant. Let's note all these crappy 'remedies':
*chemo *strict diets *vomitously disgusting medicines *surgeries *medicines/treatments with side effects that compete with the illness itself for negative life impact (like flu symptoms)
Ya. Way better just to stay healthy. For those who can, who have ears to hear and might have the RARE rare wisdom to actually learn from someone else's mistakes and not insist on the hard way, (because, mind you, it is not called the hard way because it is easy) I say to you, STAY HEALTHY. Look after yourself. Eat well - Lots of fresh produce, whole foods. Excercise. Don't sweat the small stuff. Please? It really is for your own good. Really it is.
----------------------------
Ten Cheers for breastfeeding and burning 500 calories a day while remaining almost completely sedentary! WEEHOO! I am already wearing my normal size 4/6 jeans, and my Niamh will only be a month in 4 more days. I find this truly remarkable, if not miraculous. If you could have seen the floppy flap of post-partum belly, you wouldn't believe it either. We are fearfully and wonderfully made!
---------------------------------
to whomever decides to buy the super scratchy and remarkably thin toilet paper in places like hospitals, office buildings, etc.: do you really save money using this stuff when one has to use a mile of it to do the job of 4 squares of charmin? Not that I'm suggesting everyone buy charmin, at all, but there are any number of available happy mediums.
--------------------------------
Overheard at our dinnertable one night:
"What's for supper?"
"Caterpillar toe. "
Sounds filling, eh? I thought so. Priceless moments that only a 3 year old can bring to your life.
-------------------------------
Only a newborn can spend 9 months in a bath and not come out pruney.
------------------------------
No wild ride of excitement compares to a 3-5am silent session of sitting and staring with a newborn. Let me tell ya. Wowy. There is no singing or game or toy that might entertain them or even incite their notice in any way. So entertaining consists of switching positions, largely. Sit up, lean back, lay down, sit up, lean forward, over the shoulder, over the arm, over the other shoulder, in a chair, "stand" up, lay on the floor ... mmm hmm. Party hardy, Marty. Although I have found a walkman really helps, and sometimes the baby will let you play air-piano with them, and boy that passes the time.
--------------------------------
Yes, laugh if you must, I still use a walkman. We have an IPOD, but I haven't really figured it out. He mainly uses it. And all my old home-tapes of fiddling are on cassette, so yes, I am still in cassette/walkman land. I had a young person ask me what a walkman was. Wow I felt old. It's not an 8-track for pete's sake! Oh, and apparently computers don't even come with floppy drives anymore. Where was I? (Monastery.... in my kitchen... a place that knows no time, apparently)
------------------------------
It is far better just to never get sick in the first place, as pretty well any treatment I can think of for various illnesses and disesase is really not fun or even remotely pleasant. Let's note all these crappy 'remedies':
*chemo *strict diets *vomitously disgusting medicines *surgeries *medicines/treatments with side effects that compete with the illness itself for negative life impact (like flu symptoms)
Ya. Way better just to stay healthy. For those who can, who have ears to hear and might have the RARE rare wisdom to actually learn from someone else's mistakes and not insist on the hard way, (because, mind you, it is not called the hard way because it is easy) I say to you, STAY HEALTHY. Look after yourself. Eat well - Lots of fresh produce, whole foods. Excercise. Don't sweat the small stuff. Please? It really is for your own good. Really it is.
----------------------------
Ten Cheers for breastfeeding and burning 500 calories a day while remaining almost completely sedentary! WEEHOO! I am already wearing my normal size 4/6 jeans, and my Niamh will only be a month in 4 more days. I find this truly remarkable, if not miraculous. If you could have seen the floppy flap of post-partum belly, you wouldn't believe it either. We are fearfully and wonderfully made!
Thursday, June 21, 2007
back back back...
SWINGS the pendulum... over to Happy!
The aforementioned infection got its tush kicked by:
* a super hot shower
* a bunch of massage
* hours of white-knuckled nursing
* 6 cloves of raw fresh garlic, crushed over a potato salad (kisses anybody??? hehehe)
* God granting to Niamh a 5 hour sleep stretch for me to better rest
Oh ya baby. No antibiotics necessary!
2 weeks from yesterday is my first ceilidh. Yipes! Somebody needs to practice! Her name is Jenni. Maybe I should get off blogger and go do that. hmmm... but first... more elipses.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder...
It has been a few weeks since I was at church. Man oh man am I ever jonesin'. Big corporate worship depravation issues. I started crying last night just putting on a cd and praying a little bit. I think that's the biggest thing I feel lack of here. Otherwise I am really settling in and feel more at home.
My basil plant is flowering. Anybody know if I should nip those, not let it, or if it is fine to let it go?
I failed to mention before, when I was in the hospital, and Nanny was here and Anna was "helping" her get the nursery ready, Anna went and got her blanky, the blanky, and put it in the crib for Niamh to have. And that was it, she hasn't asked for it again, she decided she wanted the baby to have it. Is that not soo precious??? Wow. Nanny asked her, "Are you sure, Anna?" and she replied glibly, "Yep."
If only I was so ready to hand over things that were precious to me with simple unattached generosity.
Later Taters.
The aforementioned infection got its tush kicked by:
* a super hot shower
* a bunch of massage
* hours of white-knuckled nursing
* 6 cloves of raw fresh garlic, crushed over a potato salad (kisses anybody??? hehehe)
* God granting to Niamh a 5 hour sleep stretch for me to better rest
Oh ya baby. No antibiotics necessary!
2 weeks from yesterday is my first ceilidh. Yipes! Somebody needs to practice! Her name is Jenni. Maybe I should get off blogger and go do that. hmmm... but first... more elipses.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder...
It has been a few weeks since I was at church. Man oh man am I ever jonesin'. Big corporate worship depravation issues. I started crying last night just putting on a cd and praying a little bit. I think that's the biggest thing I feel lack of here. Otherwise I am really settling in and feel more at home.
My basil plant is flowering. Anybody know if I should nip those, not let it, or if it is fine to let it go?
I failed to mention before, when I was in the hospital, and Nanny was here and Anna was "helping" her get the nursery ready, Anna went and got her blanky, the blanky, and put it in the crib for Niamh to have. And that was it, she hasn't asked for it again, she decided she wanted the baby to have it. Is that not soo precious??? Wow. Nanny asked her, "Are you sure, Anna?" and she replied glibly, "Yep."
If only I was so ready to hand over things that were precious to me with simple unattached generosity.
Later Taters.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
and for the sake of balance...
a bunch of hopeless complaining to counter the idyllic picture painted in the previous post.
I don't understand. I had an infection of candida albicans in my milk ducts when I was nursing Anna. I had it for 18 months while I nursed her. For those who don't know, it is painful. Rather painful. And it is a very pertinacious infection. Every treatment western medicine offered me gave me no solution. I tried them all, one a few different times. Well well well, surprise surprise, Mr. Candida never actually LEFT me, I just weaned her and didn't notice its presence any longer as there was nothing to exacerbate it. So starting to nurse Niamh, I was able to pick up right where I left off. Lovely.
BUT there was some hope. The Chinese doctor who was giving me acupuncture has an herbal remedy for it, she claims. I am a week into the 4 week treatment and seeing good results, feeling improvement, all excited, that there may finally be an end to this terrible stuff in sight. Oh but wait, another thing that also seems familiar though unwelcome... redness, burning... hmm.. is it a blocked duct or mastitis? Let's wait and see if flu symptoms appear. Hello! I get up today and am totally achey all over, spinny head and chills, very unhappy milk ducts, and a lot of pain. Pain that just about brings tears to my eyes whenever she begins to nurse. The only treatment for mastitis is antibiotics, which will spiral all the candida issue totally out of control once again. Yip-dee-flippin dee. And I went through all this with Anna once. How is it I get every problem in the book every time. Why. I was so dreadfully ill with the mastitis last time, it was all I could do to walk.
Argh. Not again.
And my hand is a fair bit worse now too, as should be expected getting more tired and fighting multiple infections. It is still discouraging though.
*sigh* that's it. I'm just so so annoyed. How wonderful to have an eventless run of nursing. It can be such a wonderful thing. For about 2 days where the herbs were helping, I was able to glimpse that. I am seeing the dark side now again, for sure, unfortunately.
And I just found out today that another friend of mine in Cape Breton, an old fella with whom I danced a set EVERY time I went to West Mabou, died this week. I can't believe it. He was so spry and lively. Weird.
Weird how the world will be different now without him. We'll miss you Neilly Angus D. West Mabou won't be the same.
I don't understand. I had an infection of candida albicans in my milk ducts when I was nursing Anna. I had it for 18 months while I nursed her. For those who don't know, it is painful. Rather painful. And it is a very pertinacious infection. Every treatment western medicine offered me gave me no solution. I tried them all, one a few different times. Well well well, surprise surprise, Mr. Candida never actually LEFT me, I just weaned her and didn't notice its presence any longer as there was nothing to exacerbate it. So starting to nurse Niamh, I was able to pick up right where I left off. Lovely.
BUT there was some hope. The Chinese doctor who was giving me acupuncture has an herbal remedy for it, she claims. I am a week into the 4 week treatment and seeing good results, feeling improvement, all excited, that there may finally be an end to this terrible stuff in sight. Oh but wait, another thing that also seems familiar though unwelcome... redness, burning... hmm.. is it a blocked duct or mastitis? Let's wait and see if flu symptoms appear. Hello! I get up today and am totally achey all over, spinny head and chills, very unhappy milk ducts, and a lot of pain. Pain that just about brings tears to my eyes whenever she begins to nurse. The only treatment for mastitis is antibiotics, which will spiral all the candida issue totally out of control once again. Yip-dee-flippin dee. And I went through all this with Anna once. How is it I get every problem in the book every time. Why. I was so dreadfully ill with the mastitis last time, it was all I could do to walk.
Argh. Not again.
And my hand is a fair bit worse now too, as should be expected getting more tired and fighting multiple infections. It is still discouraging though.
*sigh* that's it. I'm just so so annoyed. How wonderful to have an eventless run of nursing. It can be such a wonderful thing. For about 2 days where the herbs were helping, I was able to glimpse that. I am seeing the dark side now again, for sure, unfortunately.
And I just found out today that another friend of mine in Cape Breton, an old fella with whom I danced a set EVERY time I went to West Mabou, died this week. I can't believe it. He was so spry and lively. Weird.
Weird how the world will be different now without him. We'll miss you Neilly Angus D. West Mabou won't be the same.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
for those who never have enough pictures...
Especially of my beautiful babies...
Here is Niamh Eileen (letting you see it written as much as possible :) at 7 days old.
the proud sister
I'm finding this all so awesome, I am nearly speechless. But of course, Jenni's speechless is really more like everybody else's normal speechful.
Here is Niamh Eileen (letting you see it written as much as possible :) at 7 days old.
the proud sister
I'm finding this all so awesome, I am nearly speechless. But of course, Jenni's speechless is really more like everybody else's normal speechful.
*ahem*
So many beautiful moments the last week, I can't believe. Firstly, for Niamh, for the last 3 nights she has been sleeping at 3-4 hr intervals, only waking for a one-side feeding and then straight back to sleep for another stretch! Hello? No 3-7am stare-&-rock-fests. Wonderful.
So I am not wasted... yet. I know my time will come, and mom-in-law is still helping to take Anna when Niamh has a good afternoon nap so I can have one too. This is priceless assistance!
The next story should be prefaced with:
Did I mention that one day a couple weeks ago, Chris built a deck on the front of our house? In a day? Including staining? Not from a kit? Ya. He is incredible.
One afternoon a couple days ago while Niamh napped, Anna and I sat out on our new deck, enjoying it for the first time in a new bistro table and chair set, on one of the first sunny days. I made us a couscous salad with chopped veggies & beans, and a chopped fruit plate with cherries, and we sat there and shared this lovely lunch like 2 ladies, 2 friends. It was so special, and Anna said, "Isn't it a beautiful summer day?" and then, "Mm mm, what a yummy yunch you made, Mommy!" She can be so unbelievably sweet sometimes.
And it was beautiful. Every summer I go through this same routine of saying, "Ooooh yaaa... THIS is why I thought it was wonderful here." During the winter I often find myself at some cranky phase cursing rose-coloured glasses and saying, "sooo... why did I think this was so great?"
Leaves do a lot for me. After our long winter and mucky muddy "spring" (woeful in comparison to Kansas City's spring), the lush summer leaves, bright blue skies spotted with fluffy whitey clouds, and just delicious green-ness everywhere cheer me like nobody's business. I so love it. And yes, Anna, it IS beautiful here.
A word to potential visitors: it's ALL about June-August, or maybe September, some years.
if you have the time...
and I believe it would be beneficial for you to TAKE the time, but I'm not guilt-tripping...
this article sends shivers and is really informative. It is ganked from another blog.
Thank you, Mary, for making me a more informed citizen of the earth.
http://www.bestlifeonline.com/cms/publish/travel-leisure/Our_oceans_are_turning_into_plastic_are_we.shtml
this article sends shivers and is really informative. It is ganked from another blog.
Thank you, Mary, for making me a more informed citizen of the earth.
http://www.bestlifeonline.com/cms/publish/travel-leisure/Our_oceans_are_turning_into_plastic_are_we.shtml
Monday, June 04, 2007
and just like that....
*ding*
This...
became...
This...
became...this.
Pretty cool, huh?
Welcome to Niamh Eileen! For those who don't read Irish out there - I'm assuming there may be a couple (ha) - Niamh is pronounced neev. Or as one name book said, "heaven spelled backwards."
ok, not really, but it sounds cute to say. The non-English-phoenetic spelling comes from Irish Gaelic, if anybody didn't yet know that was my thing. It is an Irish name so we went for the authentic/heritage type thing over the accessible-to-more-people thing.
She was 9lbs. 3 oz.
21 1/2 in. long
born May 29, at 9:39am
she is a total dear, a good sleeper so far (thank You, God! let it continue!!) We are all happy at home. So far Anna loves her too, thinking she is "sooo sweet!!!" but enjoys making a scene whenever I change her bum, as if it had any smell at all. She flees the scene covering her face in feigned terror. What a little actress.
Re: the photos, the nurse took the first one in my hospital room the morning of the c-section. You can see the morning hour on the wallclock. 2 1/2 hrs later, the 2nd pic was taken.
The section was routine and eventless, (thanks again to God!!) but of course no surgery is ever fun. I am now living off my tylenol, bet it gets me through. I'm quite sore but ok, and have good help between Chris and is mum who is next door. Oh, and of course Anna, who is also very helpful.
She is currently nursing and it is 5am and I am one-finger-pecking this whole post, so I'll wrap up for now, but I was anxious to share my news. : )
Beautifully, in closing, I find my house feels more like a home, and we feel more like a family, instead of a couple with a kid. Lovely.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
2 funny Anna quotes today
Our neighbour is doing some construction, and there is an assortment of large golden-coloured construction equipment down there doing their business. She knows the Irish word for excavator quite well, and thinks it is fun to say apparently. The other day while playing alone in her room I heard her repeating over and over, "tochaltoir... tochaltoir... tochaltoir... tochaltoir.."
This afternoon Anna looked out the window and said,
"Hey, yook Mommy! See dat Innovator??? It's digging!!!"
To which I replied, "You mean EXcavator?? "
"YA, ya... EXcavator..."
---------------------------------------------
Then I was telling her that she would be a big sister next week, that she would have either a brother or sister, but that there would be a new baby anyway. TO which she replied,
"Ooh! Will it be a pink one??? I want a pink one."
This afternoon Anna looked out the window and said,
"Hey, yook Mommy! See dat Innovator??? It's digging!!!"
To which I replied, "You mean EXcavator?? "
"YA, ya... EXcavator..."
---------------------------------------------
Then I was telling her that she would be a big sister next week, that she would have either a brother or sister, but that there would be a new baby anyway. TO which she replied,
"Ooh! Will it be a pink one??? I want a pink one."
3 days over news
I was informed yesterday that the medical community is considering it basically impossible for me to deliver the baby, so I am now scheduled for a c-section on Tuesday. That's when they could pencil me in. It's like trying to get a haircut appointment. Weird.
Apparently my pelvis just doesn't cut it. And the "good birthing hips" of which I boasted possessing all through high school don't count for anything either. Oh well.
So here I am. Hoping now to NOT go into labor and make it until Tuesday eventless.
Thanks for prayers and concern. I will let you know as soon as I can what they find next week... hehehe
Apparently my pelvis just doesn't cut it. And the "good birthing hips" of which I boasted possessing all through high school don't count for anything either. Oh well.
So here I am. Hoping now to NOT go into labor and make it until Tuesday eventless.
Thanks for prayers and concern. I will let you know as soon as I can what they find next week... hehehe
Sunday, May 20, 2007
the beached whale and other foibles
Some humour from this interesting time of life.
I'm more like a turtle on it's back, really. But this condition goes back a ways. In high school one time, a friend and I compared the relative difference in our body shapes. We both laid on the floor on our backs, and I could easily raise and lower my legs but had difficulty sitting my torso straight up, while her torso would almost automatically raise when she tried to lift her legs. Interesting.
I'm still like that, it's just worse. I can get out of bed on my own, but Chris' assistance is much appreciated. I'm sure the upswing heave-ho action of my legs trying to create some counterforce and get that ol' torso vertical must be humourous to watch. But I have no audience generally. Lucky for me.
Then I would like to compose a wee letter of thanks to whomever is responsible (or not responsible, as the case may be) for maintaining things in the women's washroom at my church.
The locks don't work, on any of the doors, as far as I know. Now, combine the following conditions and it just isn't pretty.
1) I am quite short. Thus, so are my legs.
2) The stall doors to not lock.
3) Whatever unbalanced angle the doors are hanging at, causes them to naturally swing open inwards.
So this leaves me, who frequents washrooms with some, well, frequency these days, stretching my little leg, pointing my little toes as far as they will go (while trying to remain in appropriate proximity to the loo itself) to hold the door at least mostly closed while I occupy the space. What can I say, but that it is nearly impossible, and at the very least, far from comfortable. But hey.
Then there were two sitcom-ready moments of maternity shame that I will here bare in my seeming disregard for my own self-image or dignity.
The first was a month-ish ago, after church. I was driving home alone, and had stopped to pick up a couple groceries. Well, there was a box of glazed donuts on the clearance rack of the bakery, which I snatched right up, for Chris, of course. Well, the salivation began shortly thereafter as "visions of sugar plums (and donuts) danced in my head, " while I was walking around the other aisles of the store.
What a horrid display I made of myself, loading the bags of groceries into the trunk, and tearing savagely into the box of donuts, and inhaling one while standing in the parking lot just outside the open trunk of my car. Had I not eaten in a week? I mean really.
I licked my fingers as clean as I could as I delivered the cart to the little cart corrall and walked back to my car pretending that there was no one sitting in their cars waiting for anyone inside to return and watching my little show. Lovely. Not to mention, impressive.
Then there was the other day... *sigh* this was truly shameful as well. I was like an alcoholic. But with sugar. I made these cookie/bark/brittle things that are truly sinful and delicious, very rich and pure cryptonite for me. I hid from Anna, because of course, that much sugar is no good for her!!! And I ate and I ate and I ate as gluttonously as I can actually EVER recall eating, literally, until I made myself sick. I don't know what came over me. I didn't lose anyting, but boy, was my stomach ever upset. Yowzers. And I felt drained and heavy and nauseous the whole rest of the day. Absolutely pitiful.
The bright side is that I have had basically NO desire for sugar since then. At all. I'll just eat some plain cauliflower, ok? Thanks. And water. LOTS of water. Please.
I'm more like a turtle on it's back, really. But this condition goes back a ways. In high school one time, a friend and I compared the relative difference in our body shapes. We both laid on the floor on our backs, and I could easily raise and lower my legs but had difficulty sitting my torso straight up, while her torso would almost automatically raise when she tried to lift her legs. Interesting.
I'm still like that, it's just worse. I can get out of bed on my own, but Chris' assistance is much appreciated. I'm sure the upswing heave-ho action of my legs trying to create some counterforce and get that ol' torso vertical must be humourous to watch. But I have no audience generally. Lucky for me.
Then I would like to compose a wee letter of thanks to whomever is responsible (or not responsible, as the case may be) for maintaining things in the women's washroom at my church.
The locks don't work, on any of the doors, as far as I know. Now, combine the following conditions and it just isn't pretty.
1) I am quite short. Thus, so are my legs.
2) The stall doors to not lock.
3) Whatever unbalanced angle the doors are hanging at, causes them to naturally swing open inwards.
So this leaves me, who frequents washrooms with some, well, frequency these days, stretching my little leg, pointing my little toes as far as they will go (while trying to remain in appropriate proximity to the loo itself) to hold the door at least mostly closed while I occupy the space. What can I say, but that it is nearly impossible, and at the very least, far from comfortable. But hey.
Then there were two sitcom-ready moments of maternity shame that I will here bare in my seeming disregard for my own self-image or dignity.
The first was a month-ish ago, after church. I was driving home alone, and had stopped to pick up a couple groceries. Well, there was a box of glazed donuts on the clearance rack of the bakery, which I snatched right up, for Chris, of course. Well, the salivation began shortly thereafter as "visions of sugar plums (and donuts) danced in my head, " while I was walking around the other aisles of the store.
What a horrid display I made of myself, loading the bags of groceries into the trunk, and tearing savagely into the box of donuts, and inhaling one while standing in the parking lot just outside the open trunk of my car. Had I not eaten in a week? I mean really.
I licked my fingers as clean as I could as I delivered the cart to the little cart corrall and walked back to my car pretending that there was no one sitting in their cars waiting for anyone inside to return and watching my little show. Lovely. Not to mention, impressive.
Then there was the other day... *sigh* this was truly shameful as well. I was like an alcoholic. But with sugar. I made these cookie/bark/brittle things that are truly sinful and delicious, very rich and pure cryptonite for me. I hid from Anna, because of course, that much sugar is no good for her!!! And I ate and I ate and I ate as gluttonously as I can actually EVER recall eating, literally, until I made myself sick. I don't know what came over me. I didn't lose anyting, but boy, was my stomach ever upset. Yowzers. And I felt drained and heavy and nauseous the whole rest of the day. Absolutely pitiful.
The bright side is that I have had basically NO desire for sugar since then. At all. I'll just eat some plain cauliflower, ok? Thanks. And water. LOTS of water. Please.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
New blog
Heya.
I started a blog in Irish. Just wanted to. Hopefully I can get more practice and use more vocabulary than I get to with Anna. Hopefully it will help keep me sharper and thinking Irish more often, so that I can be more faithful using it with her and the baby-to-be. Meh, who knows, but I am making an effort.
This is the url, if anyone here happens to be an Irish speaker (stranger things have happened) or if you want to look at it just to see how weird written Irish looks. : )
http://misemamai.blogspot.com/
If I was tricky enough I would just add the link on the side of the page here, but I'm not that tricky. Leave me to the bread making and fiddle playing, thank you. Not that I don't wish I could be that tricky, I'm just not.
Gaeilge go deo!
I started a blog in Irish. Just wanted to. Hopefully I can get more practice and use more vocabulary than I get to with Anna. Hopefully it will help keep me sharper and thinking Irish more often, so that I can be more faithful using it with her and the baby-to-be. Meh, who knows, but I am making an effort.
This is the url, if anyone here happens to be an Irish speaker (stranger things have happened) or if you want to look at it just to see how weird written Irish looks. : )
http://misemamai.blogspot.com/
If I was tricky enough I would just add the link on the side of the page here, but I'm not that tricky. Leave me to the bread making and fiddle playing, thank you. Not that I don't wish I could be that tricky, I'm just not.
Gaeilge go deo!
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Precious Moments
Anna has become fascinated with 'the belly' and the baby in it. Sometimes she will just be looking at it and say, "Wow! it is so HUGE!" Her new hobby is pulling up my shirt and laying her head and hands on the belly and waiting for the baby to kick her. Then she jumps back and looks at me with big eyes and a smile to match and says, "Did you feel dat one???? Da baby kicked me!" And her patience for this routine has really grown. Earlier on she couldn't wait the couple moments it took to feel a kick or a roll. Now she will sit there just about as long as you will let her, enjoying as many as she can. I'm loving it!
The other night baby and I had a little 'moment'. We bonded. It gets quite active in the warmth of the tub, and lying there, it did this straight-leg knee-lock thing, and the bum was stuck out one side, quite pronounced, and a foot was pushing out the opposite side. Normally, when pressure is applied to a protrusion, it will retract fairly readily. But it didn't this time. It let me sit there and rub its little foot for the longest time!!! I couldn't believe it. I just rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, and it kept it stuck out as far as it could, almost as if enjoying it. I know I was. Just a sweet little moment.
I am thinking that it is a girl now, as of the last weekish or so. With no certainty of course, but just kinda thinking. And Anna has changed her tune! She had held, without wavering even once, that it was definitely a boy from the first mention of it until just a couple days ago, now she keeps saying it is a girl. So who knows. We will all know in a couple days or weeks, now won't we! The names she has selected for it have been quite... interesting. First was Daniel, then Zorret, the Fissy, then Soupy. Soupy is everybody's made-up silly name right now, however, not just the baby.
I finally settled on a paint colour. Pittsburgh Paint 311-4, Cress Green, if anyone is that very interested. Chris brought it home last night and I dove right in cutting in around window and doors within the hour. I simply could NOT wait to get some ON the wall, and see how it was going to look. I should have taken a before picture. I will have to find an old one of our very dark red room. This light green just almost glows compared to the darkness of the red.
Cress Green happens to be from the Scottish Highlands collection, and I swear that is a coincidence, as is our anniversary on St. Pat's. No one will believe I'm not the poser I appear to be. But those who are closest to me know full well that the whole rose-coloured-glasses thing on all things celtic has long since faded. I no longer get goosebumps crossing the Causeway to Cape Breton, for example, or talking to fill-in-the-blank famous celtic musician. They are just places and people: loved by God, but equal, and full of both and good and bad.
Hawaii or New Zealand, on the other hand... I think my glasses are pretty rosey about that right now... or maybe the winter is just getting long. What was that I said about 63 degrees? Ya, that was just that one day. It was great and all... but I've had the heaters on again with regualrity since then.
There's all the blather I can muster for today. I will likely keep you posted on any new humans or even much less exciting things, like sweeping my floor. Mmm... sweeping...
The other night baby and I had a little 'moment'. We bonded. It gets quite active in the warmth of the tub, and lying there, it did this straight-leg knee-lock thing, and the bum was stuck out one side, quite pronounced, and a foot was pushing out the opposite side. Normally, when pressure is applied to a protrusion, it will retract fairly readily. But it didn't this time. It let me sit there and rub its little foot for the longest time!!! I couldn't believe it. I just rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, and it kept it stuck out as far as it could, almost as if enjoying it. I know I was. Just a sweet little moment.
I am thinking that it is a girl now, as of the last weekish or so. With no certainty of course, but just kinda thinking. And Anna has changed her tune! She had held, without wavering even once, that it was definitely a boy from the first mention of it until just a couple days ago, now she keeps saying it is a girl. So who knows. We will all know in a couple days or weeks, now won't we! The names she has selected for it have been quite... interesting. First was Daniel, then Zorret, the Fissy, then Soupy. Soupy is everybody's made-up silly name right now, however, not just the baby.
I finally settled on a paint colour. Pittsburgh Paint 311-4, Cress Green, if anyone is that very interested. Chris brought it home last night and I dove right in cutting in around window and doors within the hour. I simply could NOT wait to get some ON the wall, and see how it was going to look. I should have taken a before picture. I will have to find an old one of our very dark red room. This light green just almost glows compared to the darkness of the red.
Cress Green happens to be from the Scottish Highlands collection, and I swear that is a coincidence, as is our anniversary on St. Pat's. No one will believe I'm not the poser I appear to be. But those who are closest to me know full well that the whole rose-coloured-glasses thing on all things celtic has long since faded. I no longer get goosebumps crossing the Causeway to Cape Breton, for example, or talking to fill-in-the-blank famous celtic musician. They are just places and people: loved by God, but equal, and full of both and good and bad.
Hawaii or New Zealand, on the other hand... I think my glasses are pretty rosey about that right now... or maybe the winter is just getting long. What was that I said about 63 degrees? Ya, that was just that one day. It was great and all... but I've had the heaters on again with regualrity since then.
There's all the blather I can muster for today. I will likely keep you posted on any new humans or even much less exciting things, like sweeping my floor. Mmm... sweeping...
Thursday, May 03, 2007
The Envy of the Block
It's us. We are so cool. We have something that the others don't have, and wouldn't they love to have it, but they don't...
I suppose, however, that 'block' is a generous term for us here. There is a dirt road, and there are a couple other houses on it. I guess those are the ones to whom I am referring still, but even beyond in the community, covetousness is a-brewin'.
Do you want to know what it is, that so sets us apart, that makes us so superior? It has always been a symbol of the upper class, the bourgeois, the "happenin' " ones. Young people flock to it, matches are made around it, a symbol of romance and sophistication.
A piano accordian. Oh yes. No joke. We are now the proud owners of an accordian. Chris has a good friend named Bernie with whom he plays many's the card game and they help each other with outdoor chores.
So the story goes, one fateful day Chris was over in Bernie's shop, and he noticed it there, a diamond in the rough, covered in years of neglect and dust. He inquired and Bernie offered, and now it is ours.
Now begins the "In Praise of Chris" section. He amazes me. He had never held an accordian in his life before this one. Yet he had the confidence and instinct with which to totally disassemble and repair this instrument with no direction or instruction of any kind. I couldn't believe it. He first cleaned it, then took it TOTALLY apart, and began work. All the keys were at different levels, and he figured out the problem, levelled them all, one by one. It wheezed and leaked air: not a problem for Engineering brain Chris. He sourced the leaks and repaired them, sealed degraded seams, repaired damaged reeds, sculpted missing and broken parts, you name it. Unreal. I was sitting there with my jaw on the floor. He just has the instinct for "how stuff works", and can look at something new, figure out the mechanics of it, and fix something he has no knowledge of otherwise. That is a gift. I wouldn't begin to have the first clue towards anything he did those few evenings he spent fixing this old fella up. Remarkable. Now it can be nicely played (not by me, mind you) and not do any weird things.
What a man. He can build pretty much anything too. Mechanical (and computer, for that matter) problem solving is something is just in him. Nota Bene. 'At's ma boy.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Look! A new post!
Ya, it's still about pregnancy, but at least it's new.
So here's the belly at 36 weeks, beginning of ninth month.
This is my living room, for those who haven't been to my house, which is... EVERYBODY, except maybe Dad and Denise, if she still checks this :P. A couple of my mom's paintings on the wall back there, our wood stove, our primary heat source. A little window into our life environment for ya. Oh, and Anna's tinkerbell dress, which I have mentioned before, as she more or less lives in it.
Ya, I know, my blush is too orange for my skin. I won't buy it again.
I've been working my tail off trying to get stuff done and ready for the new arrival. I've made 4 meals that I've frozen in order to offset work load post partum. I have rearranged furniture as we are transforming a dark red study/library into a nursery. I can't decide on a paint color. This is my new dilemma. :) I have discovered that sciatic nerve pain is not as fun as they make it out to be. ( ha.... ha..... ). It can wake you out of a dead sleep at 6 am and put tears in your eyes. Nice. That's about it for excitement. Meh, and a little false labor, but what's new. No biggie.
I will say that I am SO enjoying leading worship at my church! I have been the full-time worship leader there for a couple months now. It is tenderizing my heart, which is wonderfully welcome and ultimately enjoyed.
Another thing that is about the coolest thing for me is that we have had SUNSHINE and temperatures topping out at 63F this week, and let me tell you, I just about thought I was in heaven. I could open my windows! Wonder of wonders! I could go outside and not be in a hurry to be back inside! Awesomocity!
** See ya 'round **
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Simple moment, treasured revelation
HAPPY EASTER, Everybody!
My Easter was kinda uncharacteristic for me, and I thought I was going to blog a big whine about it, but the Lord had more for my day than I knew.
Of course. :)
I was supposed to sing a special at church this morning, and I thought I had something cool for it, not a typical "special" but something unconventional and more me. A kind of story-song taken from a number of different songs, combining to tell the story of death and resurrection with accompanying praise.
Also, this is Anna's 3-year-old Easter, which I was kinda looking forward to, as MY 3-yr-old Easter is a story I've been told a million times over my life. But Anna has been getting carsick of late, so we couldn't really take her anyway.
Then to my utter "what?!?!?", we got a foot of snow plus freezing rain-blech-mess and there was no way I was going into town (to church) by myself in that.
So I couldn't end up going. Plans and anticipations foiled.
What?? Not go to church on Easter?!?!? No dressing up? No celebrating? No seeing my little blond angel in a foofy dress? No communion and corporate worship on this special day? I know it is lame to complain about not getting to dress up and execute social conventions on Resurrection Day, but that's partly where I was at. So I was feeling severely church deprived and pouty, even after Chris made a cool egg hunt for BOTH Anna and I first thing this morning.
Egg hunts still hold a very special place in my heart, and I love them. I have never outgrown them. At all.
As does Resurrection Sunday. Big for me.
The only plan in tact was going up to Chris' parent's house for turkey dinner and more egg hunts for Anna.
As we stepped out of the house to head up to Nanny's and into the crazy snowy icy encrusted mess, I helped Anna down the front stairs and then let her go, as she usually takes it on her own from there, being Miss Independent as she is now. But she felt the unsurety (I don't care if that's really a word or not) under her feet, the precarious, potentially slippery or deeper-that-it-looks deceptive whiteness, and stopped short.
This is where the simple moment in the natural world hit a profound eternal chord in my heart.
She stopped, sensed her unreliable footing, and reached her hand out to me.
"Mommy, will you hold my hand?"
And it hit me in the pit of my stomach.
People struggle with the humility and emptiness, the admission of powerlessness required to accept God's grace and forgiveness in the gift of Christ's sacrifice. Their pride gets in the way, and try to earn their way to heaven with their own goodness/works etc. Or in other less overtly spiritual circumstances in life, it is also often difficult to ask for or take help. I can speak for myself, when I was not as well as I am now, I found it very hard on my ego to accept as much help as I really needed to keep things going. I'm sure we could all think of instances that apply to us here.
Conversely, there is the opposite error of a lazy freeloading bummishness, the hands-off perspective on life and salvation that says, 'He'll save me, I can take a free ride. I needn't give heed to how I live'.
But I felt neither here at all. When she held out her hand to me, there was no pride in her voice. She was not so afraid of her weakness as to be unable to ask for help, innocently, truly. She was totally humble in that moment. There was no pretension, no defiant independence. Also, she trusted me implicitly. She was saying, 'I can't do it by myself. Help me.'
Neither was there moochiness or greed, ('just carry me, Mommy, I'm being a baby and refuse to walk') no taking advantage of a free ride or laziness, not wanting to bother walking on her own. It was a true realization of honest need, and an appeal from out of that place, having a complete trust and reliance.
There was a two-fold beauty in the moment. More than just the beauty of her humble request, was how my heart swelled with a powerful joy to answer and supply her need. It surprised even myself; such a surge of pleasure at the purity of her request. And I had a joy from the spring of my soul in that purity.
I imagine that bubbling joy is how the Father must feel when we come to Him with humility of heart, understanding our total inability to save ourselves, throwing ourselves completely on His mercy and provision for us, and how completely delighted He must be that we have come to Him! It is fully what He wants to do, to take that outstretched hand, to rescue from the mire of our own sin. What a beautiful thing when we approach Him neither in pride nor as spiritual free-loaders, but humbly aware of our desperate condition and need of Him.
Many's the time I've heard people talk about how God delights in our coming to Him with our need and relying on Him, but it never was a powerful personal reality for me as much as it was this afternoon. I felt it myself.
I can't really convey how it hit me, but that's it.
Lord, bless the reader with a revelation of what You have done for them today.
My Easter was kinda uncharacteristic for me, and I thought I was going to blog a big whine about it, but the Lord had more for my day than I knew.
Of course. :)
I was supposed to sing a special at church this morning, and I thought I had something cool for it, not a typical "special" but something unconventional and more me. A kind of story-song taken from a number of different songs, combining to tell the story of death and resurrection with accompanying praise.
Also, this is Anna's 3-year-old Easter, which I was kinda looking forward to, as MY 3-yr-old Easter is a story I've been told a million times over my life. But Anna has been getting carsick of late, so we couldn't really take her anyway.
Then to my utter "what?!?!?", we got a foot of snow plus freezing rain-blech-mess and there was no way I was going into town (to church) by myself in that.
So I couldn't end up going. Plans and anticipations foiled.
What?? Not go to church on Easter?!?!? No dressing up? No celebrating? No seeing my little blond angel in a foofy dress? No communion and corporate worship on this special day? I know it is lame to complain about not getting to dress up and execute social conventions on Resurrection Day, but that's partly where I was at. So I was feeling severely church deprived and pouty, even after Chris made a cool egg hunt for BOTH Anna and I first thing this morning.
Egg hunts still hold a very special place in my heart, and I love them. I have never outgrown them. At all.
As does Resurrection Sunday. Big for me.
The only plan in tact was going up to Chris' parent's house for turkey dinner and more egg hunts for Anna.
As we stepped out of the house to head up to Nanny's and into the crazy snowy icy encrusted mess, I helped Anna down the front stairs and then let her go, as she usually takes it on her own from there, being Miss Independent as she is now. But she felt the unsurety (I don't care if that's really a word or not) under her feet, the precarious, potentially slippery or deeper-that-it-looks deceptive whiteness, and stopped short.
This is where the simple moment in the natural world hit a profound eternal chord in my heart.
She stopped, sensed her unreliable footing, and reached her hand out to me.
"Mommy, will you hold my hand?"
And it hit me in the pit of my stomach.
People struggle with the humility and emptiness, the admission of powerlessness required to accept God's grace and forgiveness in the gift of Christ's sacrifice. Their pride gets in the way, and try to earn their way to heaven with their own goodness/works etc. Or in other less overtly spiritual circumstances in life, it is also often difficult to ask for or take help. I can speak for myself, when I was not as well as I am now, I found it very hard on my ego to accept as much help as I really needed to keep things going. I'm sure we could all think of instances that apply to us here.
Conversely, there is the opposite error of a lazy freeloading bummishness, the hands-off perspective on life and salvation that says, 'He'll save me, I can take a free ride. I needn't give heed to how I live'.
But I felt neither here at all. When she held out her hand to me, there was no pride in her voice. She was not so afraid of her weakness as to be unable to ask for help, innocently, truly. She was totally humble in that moment. There was no pretension, no defiant independence. Also, she trusted me implicitly. She was saying, 'I can't do it by myself. Help me.'
Neither was there moochiness or greed, ('just carry me, Mommy, I'm being a baby and refuse to walk') no taking advantage of a free ride or laziness, not wanting to bother walking on her own. It was a true realization of honest need, and an appeal from out of that place, having a complete trust and reliance.
There was a two-fold beauty in the moment. More than just the beauty of her humble request, was how my heart swelled with a powerful joy to answer and supply her need. It surprised even myself; such a surge of pleasure at the purity of her request. And I had a joy from the spring of my soul in that purity.
I imagine that bubbling joy is how the Father must feel when we come to Him with humility of heart, understanding our total inability to save ourselves, throwing ourselves completely on His mercy and provision for us, and how completely delighted He must be that we have come to Him! It is fully what He wants to do, to take that outstretched hand, to rescue from the mire of our own sin. What a beautiful thing when we approach Him neither in pride nor as spiritual free-loaders, but humbly aware of our desperate condition and need of Him.
Many's the time I've heard people talk about how God delights in our coming to Him with our need and relying on Him, but it never was a powerful personal reality for me as much as it was this afternoon. I felt it myself.
I can't really convey how it hit me, but that's it.
Lord, bless the reader with a revelation of what You have done for them today.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Replace, Retrace, Retract, Repeat
I've made a diagram that is very impressive, I know.
It is of my large belly at present, and attempts to describe an interesting fetal movement from a couple nights ago.
It repeated this pattern probably 6-8 times. I was laughing out loud. But I was laughing alone. So here I am, trying to describe my experiences to a rapt audience, I'm confident.
It would push out top center, trace an arc around the side, withdraw the foot entirely, and replace an identical push/arc pattern, the 6-8 aforementioned times, nearly identical movements each time, to my sensation.
I know this isn't as fascinating to anyone else as it is to me, but here you are. I don't worry about boring you anymore, as it is very simple to close a browser window that no longer holds your attention. So there ya go.
Ooo... if that wasn't enough, now I want to tell you about Potty training! Better bring in the popcorn and jujubes! This post is gonna be a wild ride!
So... 2 Mondays ago we had our first potty chair success story as mentioned in the last post. There was a 10 day standstill of vehement opposition after that, but when she re-commenced, we have had almost exclusive potty chair use, at all waking hours. How cool is that??? If you don't think so, you mustn't have kids yet or have trained them, cause when it finally happens, it is it's own little nirvana, let me tell you.
Story #3 for today, a friend from high school suckered me into the worst April fools joke. Man. Oh. Man. I felt SOooooooooooo stuuupid when last night, a different friend pointed out to me that it probably was a joke, this buddy was likely not REALLY leaving her partner of 8-9 years and her entire life, selling her possessions to go be a Bollywood star. *sigh* I am so gullible sometimes. In my defense, my family never celebrated April fools, and having never participated in it, is not something that occurs to me in the first place. This does not help my total embarrassment at this moment, however. Oh well.
I'll have more interesting things to say later. Here's hopin'!
Ciao for now.
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