Portland snow

I may be premature in writing this post (it's been snowing for 2 hours), but when the muse strikes...

reasons I love Portland when it snows:

1. everything shuts down and is quiet
2. snow is magical
3. laughing at idiot drivers
4. Bluedog goes crazy
5. it only snows once a year with accumulation and that is the only thing besides family I really miss about Denver

so...

reasons I hate Portland when it snows:

1. everything shuts down and I get cabin fever
2. lack of shovels
3. yelling at idiot drivers
4. lack of shovels
5. it only snows once a year with accumulation and so no one is ever prepared and we get stuck inside and even walking is a hassle because of the lack of shovels

did I mention the LACK OF SHOVELS?

anyway, happy first-season-snow Portlanders!

"I pooped in the potty!"

I underestimated the pride I thought I'd feel when Harper was finally potty trained.

she's not potty trained, per se, but pooped 5 times in the toilet today.

I was ecstatic.

I am ecstatic.

and what makes it better? she went 5 times because it was so exciting for her, she held back so she could poop, wipe, flush, and start all over again. I always thought potty training would be a battle, hard fought, and never won, but with the signing of treaties and truces made. I feared crying, kicking, screaming, pee and poop all over the floor, and tons of laundry.

and we may still be headed in that direction. this is however, only day 3 of serious "training".

but for now, pride is all I want to feel. I am so proud of my big kid, my Noodle, HD. high fives all around!

the holidays

Happy/Merry Everything!

I have fought celebrating Christmas since I was 13. I didn't understand the necessity of buying people a ton of gifts for a day that was supposed to be honoring the birth of Jesus. my argument, to my parent's dismay, against buying presents was always, "if we are celebrating Jesus' birthday, shouldn't we be buying him gifts?"

in many ways, I still feel this about Christmas, and every year wear this shirt:

however, I also now have kids, and a husband who loves Christmas, the songs, and the togetherness it brings. I've never had a problem with the togetherness, just the notion that you must bring gifts to enjoy the togetherness.

anyway, this year, for the sake of a 2-year-old who has watched The Polar Express repeatedly and screams "Christmas" anytime lights, Santa, a tree or presents are seen, I decided to up my spirit a bit. we made a tree, hung lights, and bought some books from Goodwill and covered them in gaudy Christmas paper.

and on Christmas morning when Harper came out to the tree and saw all the presents, I was glad to have been part of what made her so happy to give up the Binky for the morning.

from our family to yours, happy whatever you celebrate! I hope it was filled with as much fun, love, and excitement as our holidays had this year.

back in action

completing a term of school really frees one up to do the important things. you know, cleaning off the bookshelves; cleaning out one's inbox; repeatedly singing "Frere Jacques"; making baby food; painting gifts; and jumping on the bed.

just forget the 5 months of lesson plans that need to be written.

just forget for a little while.

have I mentioned my new mantra?

I will be released from this madness in...

...7 more days.

...7 more days.

...7 more days.

...7 more days.

...7 more days.

bone quivers

today I received my first request for a review and subsequent blog post. I am noting this for a few reasons:

1. this confirms that someone other than my husband, friends, and a couple other bloggers sometimes, occasionally, read this blog;

2. it was mommy related -- I am officially known as a mommy-blogger to the internet world;

3. I'm not doing the review.

I've been following (a little) all the craziness about bloggers giving reviews for free, pay, or stuff, and really feel this is not an area I want to get into. it appears confusing, stressful, and something that really divides bloggers into cliques. I did not start this blog to become part of that world, but to connect with other people like myself, that just want a little electronic encouragement once in a while.

however, it did feel great to be noticed. I won't lie. a little part of me felt that popularity-craving bone in my body quiver with excitement. a random person likes my blog and wants my opinion on something? and thinks I have enough readers for a review on my blog to be something a business-owner craves? awesome.

maybe this is the start of something big. maybe I am on my way to stardom. maybe next month I will double my hits to 2000.

or maybe some random dude found my blog and took a shot at some free press.

either way, I like when my bones quiver.

Soup Day

It was March 22, 2004 and my roommate Sam and I were recovering from celebrating her birthday the night before. and the night before that. we decided to cook. Sam was making bbq chicken. I was making Minnesota Wild Rice soup from the Book of Soups mentioned here.

Sam's phone rings -- of course she would like to hang out (her new love interest); of course he can bring his roommate; and by the way, we're making a TON of food.

not long after, the boys arrive: Aram, who I had met, and his roommate, Tate. Sam's chicken was done first, and everyone had a taste but Tate. he was waiting for soup.

as the soup finished, and was devoured, the four of us chatted, listened to Tate sing and play his guitar, and generally had a good time.

we did not have a couch at the time, or many chairs for that matter, but I remember sitting somewhere where I was able to inch very closely to Tate, almost touching, like we were 14-years-old and knees touching meant you were dating. I was so nervous around him, and tried to laugh at his every joke. I was worried I looked frumpy in my baggy t-shirt and he didn't think I was hot.

but as Tate left early to another engagement, he requested soup and in all my 50's housewife glory, I packed some up and sent him on his way. without a knee touch. or even a handshake.

*sigh*

the next day, Sam came home to tell me she had left a note on Tate and Aram's coffee table reading, call Abby for "soup", with my phone number. apparently, Tate had talked to Aram about how he liked me (he likes me, he likes me!), who passed the info to Sam, who took it upon herself to make sure we met again.

three days later, the boys were back at our house hangin' out. Tate and I stayed up all night talking. and kissed as he left for work at 6am. and as the fairy tales say, we lived happily ever after.

the point of this story? besides the fact that it's really sweet to recount the meeting of the love of your life?

Soup Day.

since that time, March 22 has been known as Soup Day. every year, we invite all our friends over to share a giant pot of the soup, and force them to hear over and over how we met and how much we love each other, and give each other googly eyes and are the annoying cute couple in the room.

we are not of any religion, and our culture is very white, middle-class American. we feel we need holidays to celebrate so we are creating our own, and this is our first. it is a day and tradition we hope our children will continue with their families long after we are gone as a celebration of the day the family began and the soup that made it happen.

as a side note, I have found an added bonus to only making the soup once, maybe twice a year -- I haven't memorized the recipe. every time I make the soup, I also get to see this:

(added to the cookbook in time for the first Soup Day)

random thoughts this week

I love Portland because of all the people commuting on bikes in the rain.

without rain gear.

HD ate a piece of broccoli!

study or play with my kids?

that is a lot of ginger.

I hate writing essays.

I never win anything.

Penny does love me!

thinking of Tate gives me warm fuzzies.

should I grow my hair out?

Blue ate the tiger's feet.

I spend too much time cooking.

how is it there's never enough money?

I hate this class.

cow farts contribute to global warming.

why can't she be without me without tears?

I love my life.

cooking

yesterday I made an amazing Indonesian chicken, noodle and potato soup called soto ayam. I got the recipe from a wonderful soup book called Book of Soups, put out by the Culinary Institute of America. I've made many soups from this book to great success, and someday I will write about the soup that is now celebrated on our Soup Day.

however, I needed ginger for the soto ayam. fresh ginger. I went to the Asian market down the block (jealous I'm so close to one? you should be!) and got some ginger. the smallest package. of three giant roots. for those of you familiar with cooking with ginger, you know that you only need a tiny piece per recipe, usually. but since it is used in just about every Asian dish around, it follows that Asian markets sell it in bulk only. and it was $1. awesomely cheap.

the point of this incredibly long story: I have a TON of ginger I need to use.

any ideas?

another quandary: in making the soup, I needed a couple hard-boiled eggs. so I boiled some eggs. and peeling them is impossible. this has been happening to me forever. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. all the instructions I have are: cover eggs with cold water; bring to boil; remove from heat, cover, and let sit 10 minutes; rinse with cold water.

am I doing something wrong?

I heard somewhere that if the shell doesn't come off easily, the eggs are not cooked correctly. true? I love hard-boiled eggs but am really close to giving up on them forever. this is becoming too troublesome.

help please?

you want to go to grad school, do ya?

AHHH!

sleep-short nights, super-long days and children of all sizes everywhere -- such is the life of a mother/wife/student teacher. when people find out all I do they say something like, wow, how do you do it? why doesn't I don't have a f-ing clue ever suffice?

the days are all one (it's tuesday, right?); the assignments many, long, and complicated; the children cry at daycare for mommy; dinner's on the table at 6; teenagers wanting, I don't know, help I guess -- I don't know what anyone wants. and I don't know what I give. I'm just surviving here. trying to look 2 days ahead to avoid all-nighters and remember to take crap out of the freezer to thaw.

what was I thinking. really. one year is turning out to be a very. long. time.

but as Aretha says, I will survive, and so will my family and my students. and we'll all laugh about this someday.

and in the meantime, a funny conversation to sustain me:

HD: I poop in my diaper.

me: you pooped?

HD: yeah. me eat poop?

me: no, that's yucky.

HD (giggling): me eat Blue poop?

me: nooo...

HD (giant smile): me eat daddy poop?

me (giggling): nooo...

HD (ginormous smile): me eat poop yucky!

me (laughing): yes HD. you eat poop very yucky.

randomness

time has slowed down for me today so I feel obligated to write. I've been quite neglectful and though it may not bother any of you it really rankles me.

today is a good day -- first day of super-fog of the season. this is one of the biggest reasons I love Portland, the fog. and one of my favorite things to do is ride over the Broadway bridge in the fog where you can't see a damn thing when you're over the river. it's so cool and I get to do it today. you should be jealous.

I now know what is meant by "deflated boobs".

my baby is ticklish and it is adorable. squeeze a thigh, side or tickle her neck and she gets very close to laughing. kid doesn't laugh, ever, but goodness the smiles are awesome.

Harper is mimicking like crazy and has begun narrating her every move. to listen to her talk about her world is like getting into her head. with no filter and a large vocabulary, it's amazing what comes out. the other day she couldn't get dressed because she was "doin' stuff". how can I argue with that?

school rocks (both of them) but I am totally unmotivated this week to do anything. I'm trying to get back to studious me but it is proving very difficult. then I looked at all the (crap) really important to my education work I still have to do and wanted to shred my syllabi and pretend they didn't exist. 6 more weeks. 6 more weeks. 6 more weeks.

busy busy

can you tell I'm in school? I thought I would have a lot to say during this time and would be blogging at least once daily. the problem is I have plenty to say, but no words to express my thoughts with. all my brainpower is going into my classes and preparation for teaching and job fairs in January. and when I have downtime, I'm down, literally.

so you may not see much of me for a while, but I will try to check in at least weekly.

I taught for the first time this week and it went really great. the students were wonderful and I was able to break the teaching ice. I now feel much more relaxed about it and am excited to do more.

see, not interesting. at all.

I'll write later.

I've been tagged!

I've been tagged for a meme by Nonlinear girl, my first tag! thank you thank you thank you. I am deeply honored and hope I can live up to the task. the rules are: list 10 honest things about yourself and tag 7 others to do the same. here goes...

1. I was very shy growing up. I had lots of friends, but I was the one who always responded, "I don't know, what do you wanna do?" when teenage scheduling was going on. this wasn't apparent to me until senior year of high school when I stopped calling my friends and they didn't call me. I realized I had always called them, not the other way around. it was quite a shock to discover your friends are not your friends, but only hung around because you were in their face. I was quiet and invisible. but no more!

2. it took me 10 years (off and on) to earn my Bachelor's. there are three reasons for this: 1) I love school; 2) I move a lot; 3) I'm scared to be an adult. I know, I've got a husband, kids, support myself, but a real job? that's grown up. still scared though thrilled to be a teacher next year.

3. I am so incredibly happy to be done breastfeeding I can hardly stand it. I never enjoyed it. breastfeeding for me was always associated with pain, infections, plugged ducts, and being stuck on a couch/chair/car/bathroom for 40+ minutes. thanks, no. and how come they always want to eat when you're about to eat? so annoying. I've eaten too many meals on the couch and off my children.

4. the way my food is arranged on a plate is a very sensitive issue. I don't like layers, or sauces that get on items for which they were not intended. additionally, I hate when other people put butter, jelly or peanut butter on my bread 'cause they never do it right -- all the way to the edge! and PB&J must be cut in 4 squares. and grilled cheese diagonally in half.

5. my 20 minute stories could easily be condensed to 5, but I like to talk. a lot. and I feel that I really have a lot to say that other people just must know. I hope this will help me to be a good teacher. but if in a social setting you ever see my husband tap my leg, that's my signal to wrap it up and let someone else have a turn. maybe I'm trying to make up for my quiet childhood (see #1).

6. I want a road bike for the sole reason I think I'd look cool on one.

7. some kind things people do really annoy me, such as stopping at an intersection when they do not have the stop sign and I've been waiting for them to pass. this goes equally for whether I am in a car or on my bike. another annoying kindness is when people try to wipe food off my child. as if I cannot see the strawberry all over her face, I need a complete stranger to wipe it off for me.

8. I really like to buy shoes and not wear them. they usually hang out in the closet for a few months/years until I purge and give them (back) to Goodwill. Tate loves this about me. really.

9. smartness and me mix, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I am quite cocky when it comes to my intelligence and sometimes have a hard time listening to people instead of telling them what I think or correcting them. sometimes I catch myself before, sometimes after with an apology, and sometimes I may never know. of course, intelligence and a person's amount of it is subjective, so please take this with a grain of salt.

10. I am scared that Tate will die first and I will have to live without him. awww, I know. but really, this is a true fear of mine that I dream about even. when we first met, he had a thing about how he would die saving some tourists in France from a burning car in his 40's or something. when we got married, I made him promise me 30 years. we are currently renegotiating.

I don't have 7 people to tag as I am not new to blogging, but new to the blogging community and though I follow some blogs does not mean I feel comfortable tagging bloggers I read but don't communicate with. and if that incredibly long sentence isn't enough reason, check back at #1.

sorry to be a dead end, but it has to be somewhere, right?

thanks again, Nonlinear girl!

the headless momma

recently when I comment on other blogs, my profile picture shows but without a head.

headless me. headless momma. headless random body on a beach?

yeah, lets go with that until that new one of my awesomely post-2-babies bikini body is ready.

right...

flu season?

my baby is sick, really sick. vomit, crying, smiling through purple-rimmed eyes, and fit-full sleeping. poor, poor thing. there's nothing worse than a baby so sick that even mega-tiger doesn't cheer her up. and not being able to tell someone how you feel so they can make it better must really, really suck.

penny and mega-tiger hangin'

I remember when the family got the flu when harper was 7-months-old. she also woke up vomiting, and if you've ever experienced projectile vomit from a baby you know why all I can think is "Exorcist". really people, it's not right. and today, after 4 clothes changes (one for me included), one sheets change, and close to running out of blankets, witnessing baby puke isn't any easier.

every couple hours penny acts hungry and I make her a small bottle, and she's all excited, grabbing for it and stuff, and downs it. 30 minutes later, it all comes up. and she gets pissed. not upset like her stomach hurts, though I'm sure it does, but gives me a look that says, "but mom, I wanted that food". at least she can keep down Pedialite.

and most of all, I hope penny's unfortunate ordeal is not flu-induced, as that means it will inevitably be passed around the household.

harper had a runny nose this morning...

Tuesday, ha. I meant Friday I'd catch up

here's a quick update:

student teaching: wow. awesome. crazy. cool. so busy. and excited.

last weekend: home to Denver for high school reunion. ugh to the reunion. good to see family, friend, and have some time with just Penny.

Tuesday: took Harper to visit new daycare and decided did not like new daycare. need to find daycare by Monday. out $900. found a place then get a call that we got in to another. when it rains it pours?

school: start 5 classes Monday to add to student teaching schedule. nuts. already feel overwhelmed. my poor husband...

...is amazing.

MIA

I have been so gone. my brain is starting to feel as though not much more will fit in. I have neglected my blog, and yours too. sorry! I promise I will read all of your wonderful posts that I have missed and get caught up. and by tuesday, a real post here too. I have a lot to say, and I will.

I'm sure you're not worried.

things that scare me...and make me mad

please go see this. and do something. my wonderful little p was born at home, and I'm not totally sure (not sure at all, actually) that hd needed the hospital birth she had. the more that women are misinformed about their choices, the longer it will take to give them back the power to birth their babies themselves.

I am a feminist. I am a homebirth advocate. I am a mother.

I am writing a letter to NBC/The Today Show/Matt Lauer.

watch out!

I got new bras today. real bras with underwires, push-up features, and no clips for baring all to adoring infants.

it's a good day.

it's been 2 years.

and my, have things changed. well, on me, not with bras necessarily. bearing children does a number on ones breasts in many ways, but for me, this mostly involves an increase in size. good? sure! I'm game. though the way they look in a real bra is a little hard to adjust to. I keep thinking I'm going to knock into them with my arms so I walk around with my arms out a bit just in case.

at least my chest looks good.

New Name, part 1

I've been getting a lot of random views from Britain and India. they come to me after searching for "mad momma" which I found funny.

so I searched "mad momma".

turns out I am not the first. and not the most popular.

there is another - British, Indian or both, who came before. so now I must change.

any ideas? I need something representative of myself, original, and witty would be nice too. feel free to email me with questions if you feel you don't know me well. I'm not creative and need help. obviously, or I wouldn't be in this position to begin with.

thanks.

the five stages of grief

1. denial and isolation. "she'll change her mind, it'll be okay"

2. anger. "this sucks hard and doesn't she know how impossible it is to find care and I don't have time for this and I'm just so freakin' pissed off"

3. bargaining. "just stay and watch ours"

4. depression. "what am I going to tell HD?"(while crying, a lot)

5. acceptance. coming soon...

our daycare lady is shutting down at the end of September and moving away. I'm so sad (stage 4). HD loves her, and her kid, and has flourished and done amazing things since going there.

I'm so sad.

jalapeno hands and other such things

I'm feeling kind of blah...I have a week off before crazy busy time starts and I'm feeling very ambivalent about life. and about writing. on the blog. I have much and little to say, and finding the right words to convey my blah is a little overwhelming at the moment. as much as I love some down time from crazy busy time, I feel much more productive when I have a lot going on. now I just sit around. and zone. out.

I slept until 11 today.

and I didn't even enjoy it. well, I mean, of course I enjoyed the sleeping. but then I woke up and was very upset that I no longer had time to do all the things I wanted to today. haircut will have to wait. shopping too.

but before I forget, I need to brag a little.

yesterday dad and I went to register the replacement vehicle (to this) at the DMV. while up at the counter, a gentleman came up next to us and needed to register his new car. the worker handed him the form he needed, and the man went to go fill it out. the worker said he could do it there, but the gentleman refused and went to sit down. the gentleman was Hispanic, and though he spoke english well, I thought he may have trouble with the written form.

about 5 minutes later, as we were leaving, the gentleman was still working on his paperwork. I went over and asked him if he needed help, noticing that he had only filled in two boxes. he very gratefully accepted. I filled out the form for him, while chatting in english.

a few things come to mind with this incident:

1. I'm glad I helped him. who knows how long he would have been sitting there, staring at the form, before someone else offered. I wonder if the DMV workers would have helped...

2. one of the biggest anti-immigrant complaints I hear is that immigrants need to learn english.
clearly, this man had. but READING english is much different from speaking it. many of the immigrants I have worked with do not know how to read in their native language, so imagine how difficult it must be to learn to speak AND read a new language.

3. so many times, I'm in situations like this and just walk on. ok, most times, and I really have
been brewing on this fact. I consider myself to be a compassionate person who cares for all people, yet, how often do I take the time to do something simple like helping this gentleman? I feel like a bad person. I complain about the lack of community I feel here, the isolation from my neighbors, yet what do I do to solve that?

I'm glad I helped. this is the beginning of a new era for me -- rather than thinking about how that person over there needs help, I'll help.

finally, on a lighter note, on saturday I made salsa and cut jalapenos without gloves on. my fingertips burned for hours. and now I am sometimes known as jalapeno hands. but the salsa is AWESOME.

Happy Birthday Harper!

My wonderful HD,

Two years ago today, you were pulled, screaming, from my belly. I was crying, until I saw your chubby cheeks and incredibly long eyelashes. A wonderful calm overcame me in your presence. You were little, long, and a horrible eater. And I loved and kissed every bit of you.

Today, you are a big girl, tall and still a horrible eater. I love you more every day, but now I only kiss owies and those beautiful lips. You are my light, and my madness, my wonderful manic little child. Every day is different and interesting because you are part of it. I revel in your words, I brag about your every accomplishment, and I can't believe that you are mine.

Two years and I am still adjusting to being your mother. Most of the time you make it easy -- it is obvious I am your favorite, for now, and I love all the kisses and hugs you bestow upon me. But the way you play with your dad, and light up when he enters a room melts me.

Penny adores you, and you return the love. She loves you most, and you oblige, kissing her, talking to her, and always making sure she is okay. You are a great help in burping her, and keeping her bouncing in the bouncy chair.

I cannot wait to see what the next two years bring, the next 20...it is so wonderfully exciting and I know it will be a blast!

I LOVE YOU Noodle. Happy Birthday!

mom

Round 1 of 5

I'll admit it--I've got quite the ego when it comes to my intelligence and ability. maybe because I've always studied things that interest me, I don't feel I've ever had to work very hard to get good grades. maybe my good grades haven't always translated to knowledge. maybe I just got my system down and went with it.

but I've always been good at school. until now.

actually, I'm being harsh. I still think I'm good at school, it's just now I have to try a bit.

I mean a lot.

and I don't know how to do that. it's hard. and I don't like it.

know what it is? it's all these damn papers. I thought they knew that biology was my specialty. know how much writing I had to do to get a biology degree? right, very little.

but give me a multiple choice test and I'll knock your socks off.

so lets see. graduate school. talking a bunch. thinking a bunch. then writing a bunch.

I DON'T WANT TO BE A WRITER.

I want to be a teacher. whatever.

so last week I had a little big meltdown cause the other part of this whole writing thing includes lesson plans. seriously. hard. at least to the standard that my prof wanted it. and I hate to say I agree with his formula because it means more work for me.

but ultimately, this program rocks. I love my cohort, as much as you can love 27 other people who think they, also, are ALWAYS right. and I'm learning a ton. I guess working hard will be worth it, stressful though it may be.

round 1 complete; 4 more to go...

Sunday

round one of classes done thursday. see you then....

prejudice

we are lucky enough to have cool "kneeling" buses that lower for easier access and have bike racks on the front. so when I decide to be lazy and bus part of the way home, it's quite the comfortable experience.

today, as usual, I signal to the driver that I will be putting a bike on the rack and he lowers the bus for me. not too much of a difference, but the gesture is nice.

ten blocks later, another person goes to put a bike on, this time without the assistance of a kneeling bus. this man was African American and a little scraggly looking. the driver was white. was this a case of discrimination? I don't know. but it caught my eye and I noticed.

later, walking the dog I saw a neighbor of mine who is a transvestite, and a good one. it took me many months to decide man or woman, sex change or not. the hardest part, I believe, was that this particular person is what we would call an "interesting" dresser. always a little purse, always pigtails, sometimes a fun hat. today I found myself thinking that all transvestites should be fashionable dressers and feeling horrible about judging my poor neighbor on her ability to live as a woman because I don't think she dresses like a transvestite, whatever that means.

am I any better than the bus driver? I haven't looked down upon my neighbor, but reflect to myself when I see her. I feel really bad. what do you think?

Friday

how am I expected to study when my dog lays next to me and farts every 2 minutes? wicked, horrible, RUN from the room farts.

seriously dog.

Wednesday

we've been really excited by Harper's ability to begin feeling when she's "gotta go". she talks about peeing all the time, pooping sometimes, and loves that she gets to take her diaper off and sit on her potty.

so lately, when she mentions pee and grabs her diaper, we strip it off and go to the potty. sometimes she goes, sometimes not. but we always let her run around for a bit sans diaper afterwards. tonight taught me better.

as usual, Harper mentioned pee so I stripped her and sent her to the potty and she peed. thinking that was it, I left her to air out for a bit. I had also given her a 1/4 cup measuring cup to keep her busy while I was cooking.

I left the room and heard a tinkling sound and Harper saying "pee, pee, pee". when I peeked back in, she was squatting over the measuring cup on the floor, peeing into it with remarkable accuracy. in fact, pee got on the floor only because the cup overflowed. is this kid ready to give a urine sample or what?

all I could do was laugh. and feel encouraged by her excitement around going to the bathroom. now if we could just get #2 down...

manic sunday/monday

ever feel like your children (and the gods) are conspiring to ruin your life?

I totally understand.

last night was to be a work of art in the studying department: tate hanging art from 8-10, girls in bed by 8 and me alone to finish preparing for my first graduate school presentation that I had totally put off until the last minute.

okay, maybe it was partially my fault. but the kids are still young enough to blame...

here's how the night really went:

7:30. harper in bed. sit down to feed a tired penny. dad leaves.

7:45. put penny in crib. grab beer. sit down to start working.

7:50. harper's up. put her back to bed.

7:55. harper's up. put her back to bed.

this continues every 5 minutes until 8:30.

finally.

8:31. penny wakes. feed penny bottle. penny's wide awake. put penny on play mat. penny freaks.

if she could talk, penny would have said something like, "hey mom, can't you see I'm wide awake and though am normally easy going, I must have you hold me now and for the next hour and a half?"

study. ha. not in this house.

9:50. call tate, "(please for the love of god) are you about done honey? I need some (fucking) help."

10:00. penny transfer to dad occurs, who also still has to do dishes and make lunches for everyone (that's right, my husband makes the lunches because he's that awesome). grab another beer. resume studying.

12:30. bed.

3:30. harper up and pissed. I can't let her cry, too tired, but instead bring her to bed hoping this means more sleep.

kick. kick. kick. flip. kick. kick. kick.

4:00. penny's up. with gas. pissed and crying.

4:45. sleep with the whole friggin' family in our bed. at least we're sleeping.

6:00. harper and dad leave the bed.

7:00. up to feed penny and get ready for school.

7:50. crap, I'm running late.

8:00. barely made it out the door on time. bike tires flat.

AHHHH!!

Sunday

I haven't been up this late in ages. I guess this is the price I pay for going back to school.

speaking of which, the work is really starting to pile up. I thought I was ahead, but a 5-week term sure catches up to you quickly. I may go MIA for a little bit. I may find time to check in. my great worry is that I'll have nothing to say.

nothing interesting at least.

Wednesday

I missed a day, meaning I'm calling off the blog a day for 365 days thing. for now. I may pick it up again, but life really is moving way too fast for me right now.

add demanding children, a summer cold, and 105-degree heat, and blogging gets pushed aside.

not to mention I'm in school.

I don't know what I was thinking is the answer to the question you all want to ask.

but here I am, I'm doing it, well, and it will be over soon.

in the meantime, I will come here as often as I can, but don't expect too much from me. no words of wisdom or paths to the ultimate reality. just checking in, saying hey, and providing a little look into the person I am now.

Monday, part 2

I will now prove how non-tech saavy I am.

something happened to my small, cute, and fits-in-very-nicely-with-my-others little banner thing under my "What I Believe In" heading. no longer was it cute or VISIBLE.

my cure?

put on the other one. the bigger one. and really show who believes in blogging with integrity.

I'm happy to support the effort to bring all bloggers into a respectful space, where sharing, reading, responding, and caring are all part of our blogger needs and wants.

did I just write that? does that make sense? must I refer back to the heat problem of the previous post?

eh...

Monday

so effing hot I want to die. can't think, can't blog, can't.

what I would do for central air...

Sunday

last night was quite a night.

Harper came down with a cold and was up many, many times. but Penny slept through! yea!

and we were awoken at 4:30 by the police. our car had been hit.

I made Tate go down to talk with them. it was enough for me to open the door in my underwear to the officer at my door.

what we know: dude side-swiped the car in front of us and then hit our car on the driver's side front, sending our car BACK 20 or so feet. dude wasn't drunk -- he wasn't arrested. we think he fell asleep. but I can't imagine how fast he was going to hit our car like that.

here are the details in pictures:



our car, seen to the right, was under the tree to the left. yeah.



our damage: missing grill, bent bumper, messed up turn signal



and a little body damage.

dude's car?



clearly totalled. the dark spot to the right is the liquid contents of the truck's engine compartment.


I have three things to say:


1. very thankful no one was in our car at the time
2. can you believe the dude just walked away
3. buy Volvo.


our car still runs, as it did pre-accident. it's amazing.


and a final note: this is the second time this car has been hit while parked on the side of the road. we're thinking maybe an airplane next, or a tree, or aliens will capture it in a tractor beam wanting to study the amazing engineering of 1980s Swedish carmakers. you know, because apparently this car is invincible.

Saturday

I need to write Penelope's birth story.

I need to write Harper's birth story.

how different, how wonderful.

need to find the time.

then will post.

I promise.

Friday

finished my first week of school...I have nothing to say. no wonderous realization, no amazingly true story. just a tired mother of a toddler who refuses to sleep. and cries. and must have me to comfort her. and only me.

I'll regroup tomorrow.

hopefully.

Thursday

"You must do the thing you think you cannot do." -- Eleanor Roosevelt

wednesday

I deleted yesterday's post because upon later thought, I felt it was unprofessional to voice my frustrations here in a public forum. thank you, secretmomthoughts, for you comments.

don't you love this, always something new with me...

in my studies, much is said about labels and how they contribute to our view of the world. for this reason, I am now abandoning my themed days and I will just write. I also, will abandon the labels of my posts. I will keep the ones already attached, but no new ones will emerge.

naming, or labeling something limits the way we think about it. just thinking of myself, I could be labeled a "student". what does that mean? I could also be labeled a "graduate student". what does that mean and how does it differ from just "student"?

and here's where things really start to get crazy. I am, in some way, all of these things:

student
graduate student
parent
mother
woman
breastfeeding mother
daughter
child
wife
spouse
sister
sibling
lover
friend
companion
unemployed
blogger
tall
cyclist
brown-haired
white
American
bus
commuter
renter
scientist
biologist
hippy
dog owner
consumer
shopper
28
lower middle class
registered democrat
cousin
independent
niece
aunt
controlling
open minded

this is just the list that I've compiled today, throughout the day. and it's interesting, after seeing all these things that I am, to look at one label and see what it means for you.

I'll reexamine "student". to me, this is a younger person, teens to early 20s, who is going to school, doesn't have much money, lots of roommates, not very responsible and parties a lot. but this is not me. so how could I possibly label myself a "student"?

what about "graduate student"? the only thing I may change in the above is the age range. otherwise, that is my idea of a "graduate student". still not me.

okay, so now I tried to modify student, and here's what I came up with: I am a graduate student, a student of the world, a student of early childhood and infancy, a student of society, a student of relationships, etc. this is where I will stop, but I could continue.

and this is why labels are so hard. you label someone and there are automatically assumptions attached to that label about who that person is and how they act. how unfair. in schools this is happening all the time. students are minority, limited english proficient (LEP), low-performing, gifted, poor, talented, mexican, asian, white trash, rich, etc. and all of these labels bring to mind assumptions of who those kids are. and in doing so, I see and really now believe, we are shortchanging these kids. we limit them, or put undue pressure on them, by labeling them.

to try and fully understand this, I've been trying to think of how I would feel if labeled low-performing. would I be motivated to do more? would I give in and believe the label and act as I felt someone with that label would act?

okay, okay. so why put all this here. first, I like to share knowledge, especially freshly discovered as it will hopefully pique your interest as well and maybe a cool discussion will begin. also, I no longer want to label my posts. I just want to write. I want you to come here with no assumptions as to what you will find other than my thoughts. I will continue my blog-a-day challenge for myself, but that is all to be expected here. I may change the title of my blog, but that has yet to be determined. I'm open to suggestions.

I hope you understand, continue reading, and enjoy!

please help

how did/do you get your toddler to go to bed? seriously, need some help and suggestions here. we've tried everything. it's a 20-90 minute ordeal depending on the night, and I can't hang. I'm going insane with this.

please help. please leave suggestions here or email me or link me to where you've written about it before.

and if you have bonus ideas on getting a toddler to sleep past 5:30, we'd appreciate those too.

thanks in advance.

weekend update

I would like to dedicate this post to dad, for his unwavering patience and love of the person I am. you said you had fun yesterday and I hope that's true. we will go again, and we will rock, and I will drink ahead of time so I'm easier to lead. I love you. happy father's day.

four years ago, I gave my boyfriend salsa dance lessons for Christmas.

this year for father's day, I finally came through. the only glitch was the salsa class was moved so we had to do swing. actually, no glitch, dad just wants to dance.

so there we were yesterday, ready to dance, after 5 hours of sleep, and no lunch, having forgotten to eat before the 4 hour workshop because of frantically getting the girls ready for the sitter. whew. and dance we did.

at first, dad embarrassed me, which he is very good at doing in any venue with music playing. next, we danced. and this is a problem because he is supposed to be dancing and I'm supposed to be following.

I'm a very controlling person. yes, I'll admit it. I like things done my way. and when it comes to dancing, I have a really hard time letting go. this was okay at first. we were learning the basics and it was good for me to focus on what we were doing. however, I started to notice my sweet husband's frustration with me around the start of hour two. unfortunately for him we were in a public place so he couldn't just yell at me to stop it. I tried to tell him I knew I was not doing a good job at following, that I was trying, that I would stop.

but I couldn't. I don't know why. I don't know if it just was the control freak in me or something more sinister hiding deep enough to remain unnoticed. I tried to tell him everything he was doing wrong, how to fix it, and damn it -- I couldn't just RELAX and have fun.

and here's where I see my perfectionist side collide with the control freak. how did dad ever come to be able to live with me anyway? I had to do it perfectly. we had to do it perfectly. forget that neither of us had ever been swing dancing, or had any sort of dance lesson. that doesn't matter. if I'm going to do something, I do it right. and get really frustrated and upset if it doesn't happen right away.

I guess I thought 4 hours was enough time to become a professional swing dancer. that we are that awesome. that "workshop" means completely proficient and ready for Dancing With The Stars or some shit.

but alas. we are just so-so. but that is what is expected after one lesson. and I'm okay with that. now.

towards the end, I was finally able to relax and let dad lead. and it turns out we are pretty good. too bad this only lasted a little bit since our exhaustion and low blood sugar caught up with us around the same time. we stumbled, we laughed, and we left on a good note with plans to go again.

continuing, as planned

five hours of sleep.

swing dance lesson.

fun.

too late to be up.

tomorrow...

for the record, I'm 5' 7"

this morning I was lamenting to myself that I had nothing to say, yet I have a blog to update, so come up with something, and it better be good.

and then I remembered that I had to go pee in a cup and give blood for life insurance testing. surely something would occur there to write about.

and it did. and now I'm really mad.

the usual routine went like this: pee, get weight, get height, get blood pressure three times, get blood, see ya.

my routine went like this: pee, get weight, get height, no really get height, get blood pressure three times, get blood, for the love of god get my height, see ya.

here's the discrepancy. since turning 13 I have measured 5 feet and 7 inches. always dead on. never wavering no matter where I'm measured. until about 6 weeks ago when I measured 5 feet and 7 1/4 inches. cool. taller I can handle.

today's results: 5' 6 1/4"; 5' 6 1/4"; 5' 6"

seriously? shrinking? an inch in 6 weeks?!?!

the first two times I thought, this thing must be off. dad was measured here wednesday and also was surprised to hear himself almost an inch shorter than usual. but the third time a different person was brought in to reevaluate.

still not convinced.

so I promptly measured myself upon returning home. and in an attempt to prove to the world my true height, the following photo montage:

photo 1 next to the measuring tape

photo 2, not much better

this is getting funny

put a book on your head, that will help show where you measure up to. right...

okay, like as a kid, put a mark on the wall.

I don't know, that looks pretty close to the 7, right? I used two 60-inch measuring tapes, with this 7 coming off the second. that makes 5 feet and 7 inches. or pretty damn close to it.

now we just have to measure dad. and call the lab to tell them their chart's off and I'm not shrinking.

and I had to add this, because it's adorable.

theme days

thanks to secret mom thoughts, I've got two more theme days I will try and incorporate next week: "ticked off tuesdays" and "then and now thursdays". the then and now may be a little hard as my photographic documentation is missing from most of my teen years, but I'll try and see how it goes.

so that brings me to 4 theme days. that should be good.

see you tomorrow.

ready for this?

I am going to attempt a blog a day for 365 days.

just cause.

and I'm sure this will only last about, oh, a week or so. I do start school again next week after all. however, that also means I will constantly have my laptop with me, so maybe there will be 2 or 3 (gasp!) blogs a day during the week.

I think I will also start more themed days, at least to begin. that should alleviate the need to really come up with something good to say, every day. I already have "weekend update" on sundays, and will add "wardrobe wednesday" next week, done by many and inspired by this fine lady.

any ideas for others? I figure if at least 3 or 4 days have themes, I can do this.

and since I just noticed I already have done a blog a day since sunday, we'll count that as day one. look at that! day 4 already. that was easy.

bug update

the bug sent to me from New Mexico is actually an arachnid from the family Solifugae. they can bite humans, but aren't venomous. and apparently they're really fast. they are known as sun spiders, wind scorpions, and camel spiders. these guys are found all over the world in hot, arid areas, hence a New Mexican high desert origin for our visitor.

I wrote to my mom to see if she knew what it was and it was identified as a "child of the earth". this name applies to the creature above, and this scary looking thing, known as a Jerusalem cricket:

I'm not sure which I'd rather have arrive in the mail. but I'm sure the cricket would have met the same fate as the sun spider did.

neighbors

our downstairs neighbors have moved, and all prospective neighbors have come looking during naptime. I feel this is completely unfair to the poor soul who sees the cool place below us. the apartments here aren't bad, with beautiful hardwoods, lots of space and lots of light. but there is little sound-proofing.

all I know is hd doesn't walk anywhere. she stomps.

and that must suck if you live below us.

cause really, how much could area rugs deaden the noise anyway.

and did I mention she has officially entered the constant whining/tantrum phase and never sleeps past 6? and that we have another one who will inevitably be walking around before your new one-year lease expires?

like I said, poor soul.

Weekend update

last week we received a most wonderful package of goodies from grandma Olsen that included this:
I was putting all the packaging away when I saw something in some of the plastic. I looked closer and found the above, immobile, even when the plastic rattled. I thought it was dead. the biologist in me was all, look at this cool thing, wonder what it is. so I poked it. and it moved. and I freaked.

that plastic went right back in the box where it was sealed until dad could get home, take pictures and kill it.

now the biologist in me is all, what a wuss, it's just some bug, you've seen dead bodies and stuff and didn't freak. but I don't know what it is or what kind of damage it could have done to me or my lovely family (who I would like to remain lovely).

any ideas as to who our visitor from New Mexico was?

in other news, we went berry picking today and got tons of raspberries, blackberries and blueberries. there is something quite satisfying about picking your own food. just to see where it came from and see who grew it is cool. and hd loves running around on farms. so many rows to run up and down, chickens to see, and berries to pick and eat.

actually, she called them boobies. we picked boobies today. hee hee.

at least the music was good

sunday we went to the blues festival on the waterfront with some friends. it was 90 out so we slathered everyone in sunscreen, prayed for a spot under a tree, and headed out. upon arrival, hd was on dad's back sporting her cool new purple sunglasses. we met up with friends and while deciding where to go first, beer stand or spot by the stage (beer won), a woman approached dad.

woman: I think your daughter should have a hat on.

dad: oh, thanks for your concern, but she's okay.

woman: no, really, you need to put a hat on your child.

dad: I'm sorry, but don't F***ing tell me how to raise my child. she's fine.

I'm so proud.

the cussing aside, what a man. he's so hot.

and what nerve that lady had. not only is she NOT the mother and/or responsible one for my child, but she has no clue as to our situation. she doesn't know that hd will not wear her sun hat, that we DO own, so we cover her in sunscreen and hope the new glasses stay on for a bit. and it's none of her business anyway. it's not like dad was beating her or something truly horrible. they were chillin', and no sunburning, or even tanning, has occurred on our fair-skinned child yet.

anyway, she wasn't wearing a hat either, and from the looks of her tan, she's got about 5 years to leather-dom.

but I wouldn't tell her that. that would be rude.

a little about a lot

aka really, really, really overdue weekend update. so since I last corresponded with my reader(s), much has occurred: a trip to Ketchikan, Alaska, buses to daycare, parties, swim lessons and TWO DAYS OFF.

only two days you say? well, it's a start, and it was wonderful. in two weeks I return to school, full time, and will be busier than I can even conceive right now. and until then, I am mostly with both children, mopping up spit-up and singing the ABCs.

actually, we're not allowed to sing them right now. any time we start, hd will proclaim, "no ABCD, kay?" and when she sings it, it turns into the song that never ends. when she reaches the end with "now I know my ABCs", it becomes, "now I know my ABCDEFG..."

I know. adorable.

anyway, back to me.

I have exactly 4 days to myself before school begins, two of which have already passed. of course I had grand ideas of all the awesome things I would do, including many naps, clothes shopping, blogging...

and now all I see ahead are two more days where I don't have enough time to do all I want to do. the time passes faster when the kids are away. how's that fair? how am I supposed to get anything done?

but really, a proper weekend update should include weekend activities.

yesterday, we celebrated the 4th on top of the world at a friend's new penthouse apartment that is fabulous. it had all the things you would expect, but what really did it for me was the 70-foot-long balcony facing the river. it was gorgeous. and I would show you, if we had remembered the camera.

however, the real highlight of the evening were my amazingly behaved children. hd was up 4 hours past her bedtime and never whined, fussed, or tantrumed. she was pleasant, outgoing, cute, and binky-free the whole night. and little p, took a short nap and chilled the rest of the evening with anyone wanting to hold her.

it was great.

it will probably never happen again.

I swear I'm still here

laptop down.

want to put pictures up here.

big computer doesn't do pictures anymore.

will be back.

I promise.

hair woes

I was inspired by Mom-101 and felt I should show what dad created last night:

(stapler included for scaling purposes)

dad thinks it's hilarious to take all the dog hair a furminator can remove in 5 minutes on a 70-degree day and put it on your head. this is the dog hair fro, included to embarrass dad.

I wonder how it will grow when the temperature hits 85.

and if you're interested, here is the offending dog:

inspiration and women

inspiration and I are at odds. we're on different schedules, though both feel cleanliness is important. for me, inspiration only "strikes" in the shower. how am I supposed to do anything about it there? maybe I will try one of those notebooks that are used outdoors and are supposed to survive rain and water dunks.

but now, all the brilliant things I thought of ten minutes ago are gone. I was thinking this would be the longest post ever because of all the wonderful things in my head. but for now, it seems that is where they will remain.

actually...here's one.

the past few days, I have become more of a feminist every hour. this only astonishes me because it was only 3 years ago that I began calling myself a feminist. I had a wonderful sociology professor who said anyone who believes women deserve equal rights to men is a feminist. he was the first person to explain the term feminist that way to me, and I believe every word of it.

before this, I had always seen feminism as an extreme cause and feminists as crazy radicals, akin to PETA and some of their comments (sorry to all those PETA members who are not radical but really, it's a fly. come on).

now I feel I am one of those radical feminists, who some may label a "fem-nazi". everything I read lately seems to mention women, feminism, equal rights, etc, etc, etc. I can't get away from it. and I almost don't want to. almost only because it makes me sad. anyone who feels women have come a long way, have equal rights, and lets get over it already is not a woman. and especially, not a woman with children, a job, and all the expectations to be everything to everyone all the time and not bitch about it.

yeah, I'm a little upset.

I'm having a hard time really expressing how I feel, and getting all that has been pounding me for the past week on here. so here's where you can read what I've been reading and hopefully gain a little insight into my current condition: about abortion, sexist comments, women's happiness, and what this wonderful lady has to say, here, and elsewhere on her blog which everyone should read.

I should note, I am staunchly pro-choice, anti-Palin, and a believer in evolution, but that doesn't detract from the issues above. any discrimination against women is unacceptable. the sooner the world agrees with this the better. and our country should know better and behave better.

but that's probably just a radical stance.

(Late) Weekend Update

the big news this week is hd's new bike. it's an awesome balance bike that is supposed to eliminate the need for training wheels. she loves it. and is cute. and this is where you can get your very own (though should look for a local distributor).like I said, cute.

thankful times have changed cause I could NEVER hit my kid -- maybe yours...

the long years of time outs have begun in our household -- we have a baby-kicking toddler. actually, she kicks lots of things, and not like kick-a-football-through-the-uprights kicker. she drop kicks, like they do in the WWF. now, when done to a box, hahaha. when done to a baby, what the hell are you doing!?!

but luckily, my brilliant child gets it, time out that is. she sits and squirms for the whole minute, looks quite pathetic through the whole thing, and gives a bear hug at the end.

just like all you other parents out there, of course I think my child is brilliant and advanced. though I must admit, when it comes to time out, hd probably learned it from Olivia.

I wish I had been brave enough to attempt a Pollock-esque painting when I was young. maybe now I'd be rich. but every time I read this story, I am awed and terrified at once. if my kid ever did that... Olivia got lucky it was just time out she had to endure and doesn't live in a time when this is acceptable: that's right. your beloved Beatrix Potter whipped kids in her books. not spanked. not scolded harshly. whipped. I don't even know what to do with that.

Look who pissed me off today

first of all, may the guy who wrote this have a colicky baby who doesn't sleep through the night until age 2 and won't eat anything but mac n cheese with juice.

now then. I didn't realize we were "mommy blogging"(see here) until after little p was born. I just thought we had found a great way to keep friends and family who live no where near us to keep up on us and our lives. now that I have started this blog, I realize I've been missing out. what an awesome way to document my family's life and find other moms dealing with the same crap I'm dealing with. what a nice outlet to have, when other friends with kids are states and countries away, and can check in when they want.

and along with all the other labels I sometimes ascribe to myself, I am first and foremost, mom. my kids come first in all aspects of my life. that is what you sign up for when you have kids. the hardest thing socially is to be the only one around with kids. it is what you talk about, what you think about, and childless people HATE it. I know. I did. and all our childless friends (minus the only 2 worth keeping anyway) disappeared once hd was born. but how can you talk of anything else? this is a 24-hour a day job, playdate, ordeal, life. and what do you talk about with anyone but your life.

so I say to probably nice guy who wrote the mean blog post: back off. leave us be.

and we'll see you here when your first is born. sucker.

Weekend Update

I worked last night, my second to last as a MAC waitress. pretty exciting on those grounds alone. definitely won't miss the 10% tips (especially when pregnant!), complaints of cold plates for the buffet, the constant substitutions and incompetent managers. also, for all of you reading who have never worked in food service, many times when the kitchen is blamed for lateness/mistakes/cold food, it really IS the kitchen's fault. if your service is good otherwise, give the server the benefit of the doubt.

we went swimming today. well, dad and hd went swimming. I watched. little p slept. it's been a while since hd was in a pool and it was a little frightening, but this pool has a slide which helps. dad and hd will be starting swim lessons in a couple weeks so we wanted to check the place out. it's rad. portland parks and rec is the best.
another cool thing about portland: our ice cream truck plays Beethoven's "Fur Elise". what does yours play?

why I rock

dad got an offer to geek-out and go see the new Star Trek with a guy friend, and I immediately said no. who's home all day, up all night, and deserves to go see the second theater movie in two years? ME.

but dads need guy time just as I need girl time.

so I'm going to be the awesome wife I am and let him go see the movie -- after the babies are in bed. aren't I great?

(dad: I love you, you rock, and please go have a drink after too -- you do deserve it)

weekend update

I figure if I can at least wrap things up before beginning a new week, this blog will survive. though now that I've made this decision, I have nothing to say. nothing interesting at least.

although, little p shot poo at me yesterday, and again in the tub. both firsts for me. not bad, I think, considering she's my second child. glad I was able to laugh at it, too. during the poo in the tub, hd was in there, and kept repeating, "poop, poop, poop", and was very sad when she was removed from the scene. how I miss the days when poo was a fun and exciting experience.

hd is only going to daycare two days/week this month instead of three, so if pictures of clumps of my hair are all that show up here for a while, you know why.

Feeding woes

with my first child, hd, there were breastfeeding issues -- she clamped. I thought it was me, but no, her fault, only to be discovered when she popped out teeth. we supplemented to help her grow, and hoped the next kid would be fine.

enter little p. so far so good. no clamping, at least that interferes with supply. the kid is huge. however, rather than just deny the boob when full, she goes, "yeah, I want more of that action", and eagerly accepts boob #2. then 5 minutes later, contents of boob #2 are sprayed all over mommy, couch, and boob #2. thankfully, this occurred pre-shower but come on -- JUST SAY NO.

didn't think I'd have to say that to a 10-week-old.

Let's try this again

this is my blog. for real this time. I realized I do want to do this but would rather it not be attached to the family blog. I will do what I can to stay current, though come july, all bets are off.

so how to proceed...my daughter has a pasta shell from shells-n-cheese stuck up her nose. got out half before she'd had enough and wouldn't let me anywhere near it. it's in there. I can see it. but other than the occasional sneeze and a slight runny nose, seems to be okay. we'll see tomorrow I guess.

I'm out, at the bar, doing the blog thing. first vodka in almost a year and it is...FABulous. as long as dad is willing, I plan to do this more. maybe this is when the blogging will occur...