Little Bo Bat has lost his...

I can't find my cat. Not Frank, the one in the picture, but Puck, the huge, fluffy, stupid white one.

Under normal circumstances I wouldn't even notice his dissapearance. But as luck would have it, I scheduled a vet appointment for 11am this morning, and I was hoping to find him and get rid of that large clump of matted fur on his back before stuffing him into the carrier so that the vet would have one less reason to look at me dissaprovingly and think "she doesn't deserve to HAVE a cat."

There are two possibilities. The first is that he saw me take the cat carriers upstairs last night, somehow linked them in his brain to the vet, and ran and hid. However, since this cat eats plastic wrap on a regular basis and can't figure out how to walk around a screen door to get in the house, I'm thinking he might be lost. Steve saw him last night around dinner time, and then... well, he might have slipped outside. It's huge out there. He might have run into the road. There are animals that might hurt him... like birds and deer. He is not very bright.

In the meantime, I have run all over the house looking in every nook and cranny, calling his name and shaking a bag of cat treats. I looked in drawers, in closets, and in toilets. I am trying not to remember that time Puck got caught in the wall (IN THE WALL) at our other place. I am trying not to think about how a large, sixteen pound cat who knocks things off shelves and sounds like a heard of elephants when he runs should be a little easier to find. Especially when he's ALL WHITE.

And when I show up at the vets with only one cat instead of two, the look the vet will give me will be oh, so much worse than the one for the clumpy fur.

Two Years Ago Today

I remember every detail about this day two years ago. Well... Fine. The drugs and the actual labor have made a couple of hours really really fuzzy, but they were always fuzzy. It isn't the same as the fuzziness time gives things.

Two years ago today I became a mother. It was an outrageous experience from the start, beginning with waking my brother up (he was visiting) at 7am to tell him we were leaving. The hospital we had registered in and toured sent us to Boston so we could be closer to a Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit. We were so scared that stupid shadow on our last ultrasound meant something was wrong with Nick's heart. We got an ambulance ride to the other Hospital, and I still think the highlight of Steve's day was riding in front while the lights were flashing.

Nicholas was born either at 8:07 or 7:57, depending on if you beleive the birth certificate or Steve. I didn't even get to hold him before they whisked him off to the NICU, and I sent Steve after them. I went from being the center to attention in a crowded room to being left all alone - and I mean ALL ALONE - in the delivery room. I was hungry, I was lonely, and I was worried about my baby. I was also very jealous when Steve came back with polaroids of him holding Nicholas. But an hour later I got to go up and see him myself.

Today, in the present, Nicholas is sick. He has one of his colds, and he is miserable. Trying to keep him comfortable and hydrated is a miserable job. But it is totally worth it. It's ALL worth it.

Morning After

Yesterday we had Nicholas's bithday party, even though he doesn't technically turn two until... gulp... tomorrow.

At this age, kids don't really play "together." I mean, they might play together, but they don't play WITH each other as often as they play NEAR each other. So when I say we went to the 2nd birthday party of one of Nick's friends, it means that his mother and I get together and watch our kids play with the same bunch of toys for awhile.

Ever since that party, where there were 30 something people, two cakes, tons of presents, and a pinata, Nick kept saying "Birthday?" We told him he was having a party. He was so excited. So when he woke up from his nap yesterday and I dressed him in his cute car overalls, he was jumping out of his skin. He could hear his Gramma's voice from downstairs. I kind of overdid it on balloons, but I think it was worth it. Steve's Aunt and cousin came, and a friend I used to work with and her family, including her little boy, James. Nick was SO taken with James, even tough he's only a little over a year old. It was great! Nick was excited about the presents, but could have cared less about the food. Including the cupcakes. (I also overdid it on the cupcakes - I ended up with something like 50 of them.) He was running around and climbing out of bed and over the baby gate long after his bedtime. I'm sure the three juice boxes and all the sugar had nothing to do with it.

Overall, the party was a success because Nicholas had a wonderful time. I would have liked to see more kids there, but I think this is my issue and not Nick's. I thought about it and decided that when he's been in "school" for a while and had a chance to meet other kids and make his own friends, his third birthday could be more "kid" oriented.

Then I got very sad at how big he was getting and decided that he's not allowed to turn three. He has to stay two for as long as he can.

Which, let's face it, will probably be only about a year.

the night was...

Yesterday was one of the most humid days I can remember. In this house. We don't have air-conditioning in the main house, so we either have to suffer through it or hole up in the den, where the windows are blacked out so we can watch movies on a big screen.

Yesterday my friend Larissa also came to visit. She's in New Jersey, and we really don't see each other very often, so I was probably more excited than you would think.

Yesterday was also the day our new dishwasher was scheduled to be delivered. I was also understandably looking forward to this delivery, as I've been washing everything by hand since ours broke. Oh, I know, poor me, but really: 3000 sippy cups a day. No matter how I tried to consolidate.

At any rate, Larissa's visit consited mainly of our pretending that Steve wasn't in the room toiling in the wet heat trying to dismantle the old dishwasher, which it turned out was hardwired into the electrical system of the house. I told him to forget it, and that we'd call an electrician on Tuesday, but he shut the electricity off and took it out himself. I was sure he'd electrocute himself or set the house on fire or something. When the new dishwasher was delivered, it turned out that needed hardwiring into our system as well - I thought these things came with plugs. Who knew? So Steve did that, too. Larissa was a huge help distracting the kids, because Nick just wanted to "help" his dad, and Nathan has turned into Mr. Drooly-Grumpy Pants. Could be teeth. Could be the heat. It doesn't really matter because there's nothing I can do and he's miserable.

By the time Larissa left we had an almost-completely-installed dishwasher, one that is now completely installed and running. Ain't Steve great, everybody? One day, Larissa should come over and we can do the dishes together. Just like old times!

I love my house I love my nest...

Snow and rain and rocks withstanding (this IS the Granite State, after all) I really do love it here. I love "Live Free or Die." I love the New England style. I'm a bit conflicted about the whole buy-a-gun-at-Wal-Mart thing...
Sure, I'm hours away from art galleries and museums, but even if I lived next door, how often would I go? I'd spend my time feeling guilty for NOT going. "Boy, I sure should get over there and see that exhibit on Degas" I'd think. And then watch Monster-In-Law on Pay-per-view. I do miss being able to go out to eat after 8pm, but let's face it, I go to bed at 9. I never went to bars in the first place, preferring to indulge in my own home, where I won't have to compete with skany 20 year olds and huge guys who don't see me - no, they really don't and they elbow me in the chest and step on my feet as if I weren't there...
The other morning there were 5 deer just casually walking across our lawn. And a couple of hours later the walked back, one at a time, one of them running... As someone who grew up in "the country" in New Jersey, this is as rural as I need to get. But I love it. DEER IN MY YARD! Hooray!

a picture is worth a thousand words

Unfortunately, I will not be posting one today. I have run out of current photographs to post. Last weekend I tried to delete the already downloaded flood photos from my camera but keep the cute pictures of Nathan and Nicholas. I went through the pictures on my camera one by one, locking the precious ones of my boys. But then I forgot to SAVE MY CHANGES and threw them all away, except some images of water and our canoe. Needless to say I was not very happy.
And I have yet to download the NEW pictures off my camera.
So no photo for YOU!
As an update, Nathan has started on rice cereal - stop the presses! He's really great at getting it EVERYWHERE and eating next to none, but it's only been a few days. What he REALLY wants is a cookie, but so far I've said no.
And I have spent the rest of my time worrying about toilet training Nicholas. I think I actually might put it off for a nother couple of months, depending on what his doctor says.

Post 153: In Which I Loose My Temper

Yesterday was not a good day. I went to sleep too late, woke up too early, and the morning was packed with fun-filled activities such as getting my car inspected while waiting with a cranky infant and a hyperactive two-year-old.

When we got home I tried to run on the treadmill. Nap time for both boys is around 12:30, right after Lunch. It doesn't always work, but I knew Nick was sleepy, and Nate had slept for 20 minutes only the entire morning (not MY idea). I put Nick down, and nursed Nate... and nursed him and nursed him... he remained awake. I tried running, thinking he would fall asleep, but it didn't work. He screamed when I left him in his bassinet. He screamed when I put him on a blanket on the floor. He screamed when I tried to feed him. I was hopping on and off the treadmill like some running rabbit on crack, back and forth, desperately flipping my Ipod on and off, whipping my sports bra on and off, and picking up Nate to place him in different locations.

Finally I yelled. "What do you want from me!?! Fine! You win! No workout for Mommy!" I can go into detail explaining just why I was so upset and in tears, but to keep in short (too late!) I'll just say that 1 - I was at my wits end to calm my child and 2 - I really, really need a good workout every few days to keep me emotionally balanced.

Nate froze, looked at me, and then, of course, really started crying and sobbing and screaming and I felt absolutely horrible and was guilty and I had to go pick him up and shower him with kisses and cuddle him and then I actually had to listen to him scream as I was taking a shower and washing my hair because he wouldn't nurse while I was sweaty but once that was done and I picked him up he was OK, even if he still wouldn't nurse. And then Linda called and I have to tell you Linda that Nate fell asleep TWO MINUTES after I got off the phone with you.

I knew he was sleepy.

Nick woke up 5 minutes later.

I don't know why I try. I should just accept the fact that it is frustrating and I can't do what I want and it's just the way it is. That way there would at least be fewer screaming fits, even if I would have to run around naked all summer because I can't fit nto any of my pants.

A glimpse into my mind

Imagine the inside of my mind. Mostly cobwebs. Dust. Globs of play-dough. Lots of cake. Hopefully well away from the dust. Light streaming in through dirty windows. Curtains billowing in the breeze. Even though the windows are shut. Thoughts swirling around and around like... um... dust in the wind.

Things to do today... get the car inspected. Am I too late? I think it's supposed to get done within ten days of getting it registered. It's been much longer. Will they still do it? Oh well. Give the pets flea drops. Steve will do that. But I need to brush them first. ugh. I need to do that. And pay attention for ticks. Gunther probably has tons of them and we just aren't getting them. The vet will yell at me if he's covered in ticks. Friday - gunther to vet on Friday. I should bring a juice cup to the car inspection place. And snacks. It will be lunchtime... I should remember a bottle for Nathan. And I book. I'll bring the potty training book. I need to come up with a plan for that. And I need to follow it through and not give in. I need to be more patient. I need a new schedule. This one has us sitting in front of the TV too much. I think I'm warping Nate's brain.OH! I need to go to Wal-Mart and get cleaning stuff... paper towels... could Nate be ready for size 3 diapers? I need stuff for Nick's birthday party. I need to clean the house. oh no. clean the house. I'll never get the house clean in time. ugh. There's already cat hair all over the place. And the cooking - I'll have to cook... I can cook Saturday night. That's what I'll do. Clean Sunday morning... does it matter? It's only a few people. What if Nick's dissapointed? Can a 2 year old be dissapointed? Maybe I got him too many gifts. Maybe I didn't get the right ones. Maybe these are too old for him. He's having such a hard time with Nate in the high chair. What if I'm maessing him up? Then he'll NEVER be potty trained. He might be a non-potty trained serial killer. And it will be my fault because I moved his brother into his high chair too soon and failed at potty training and let him watch too many episodes of Blue's Clues...

It just goes on like this forever. Sometimes there are thoughts about Jude Law in there, but not at the same time as the thoughts on potty training or ticks.

Mission Too Sleepy

Step one in my mission was to turn off the baby monitor.

(I know, I know, everyone said to move Nate to the guest room, but that required too many decisions for my sleepy self. First off, where would he sleep the guest bed? No. Because he can now roll over. And even though I know he probably wouldn't fall off a queen sized bed, I don't want to test my theory and be wrong. His crib is too big to move through a doorway without dismantling it. I could put his bassinet in there, but there are a few reasons I'd rather not do that, if at all possible, so I made that Step 2, Which I haven't gotten to yet.)

Step 1 worked fairly well. Nate woke up once - or perhaps I should say, he woke ME up once, but since the REAL goal, the secret goal, what I'm really, truly trying to accomplish is more sleep for ME, this is fine. One time, at around 1am. I fed him, he went back to sleep.

And then he woke up at 5am. It's hard to know if I should count this as a second "awake" or as a really early "getting up." I wanted him to go back to sleep. But he felt that he was ready to begin the day. Unfortunately, he woke Nick up, too. We all ended up in Nick's bed while the boys took turns singing.

I am so tired that I could not help but feel true panic as I looked at today's 5 item to do list. Clean the cat boxes? How am I supposed to clean the stupid cat boxes? AND take out the trash? No way. It requires too much planning and thought, not to mention finess. I'm WAY TOO TIRED!

My Mission Should I Choose to Accept It

Remember when I said all that stuff about Nathan sleeping through the night, only waking up once, blah blah blah...? Remember all that? I take it all back.

At first I thought this was just a phase, that perhaps he wasn't feeling well. I got up with him each time he fussed and cried. Then I realized he was waking and NOT fussing, just practicing using his voice. But guess what?

MY BOYS SHARE A ROOM! Who thought up this brilliant bit of planning, you might ask? Why me, of course. Now whenever Nate wakes up and starts fussing, crying, or even just babbling, I rush in to get to him before he wakes up Nick, messing everything up because at this rate he'll NEVER learn to put himself down to sleep. I've even gotten into this nasty habit of taking Nate into the guest bed in the mornings so I can get more sleep and not wake Nick or Steve.

My mission is to find a way to let Nate put himself back to sleep, to go back to feeding him once a night (which I consider reasonable at this age) without waking up Nick. Or Steve, if possible, but mostly Nick, because as much as Steve loves me he doesn't start crying and make me rock him until dawn when he get woken up.

Lists To Make

I am a list maker.

I suppose most people restrict their list making to activities like grocery lists, so that when they go to the store they know what they need and don't forget the milk and the butter and instead bring home a 4th jar of pickles. I use a grocery list whenever I go shopping.

But I also make a list for my weekly trip to Wal-Mart. So that I won't get overwhelmed each day, I make a weekly schedule with a to-do list for each day, including things like "Wash hair." That way I won't forget to do anything, and I won't feel that panic when I look around and see all of the things I need to do. I just follow the list.

But that's not all. I make lists of bigger chores I need to do, like paint the basement, fix the dishwasher, get a new kitchen floor. I make lists of things I need to pack when I go on vacation. My trip to France 2 months from now? I've already made a list of what bags I will bring, what will go in each bag, and what I need to buy.

I have a whole notebook dedicated to lists. It keeps me from loosing my mind - when I ignore my lists I get stressed and grumpy. Is this crazy? Seriously, is it a crazy thing? Because it seems rigid at times, and a bit obsessive. But it works for me, I really have to tell you.

what's wrong in this picture?

At a loss for a topic for today. I have a lot of options, but since I temd to be long winded I need to think on them more, and either focus them so that I'm not writing a 25 page paper on how messy Nick is, or how funny Nate is, or how obsessive and neurotic I am... or let the ideas die a quiet death,

So here's a funny photo of Nick. It's Saturday, anyway, and people don't read blogs as much on the weekend. Visuals are much more weekend-friendly.

House of dust bunnies and fog

Last night Nicholas had one of him meltdowns as I put him to bed. He does this every now and then, screaming and sobbing for two or three days at bedtime, asking to be held. I would gladly hold him, but I needed to put Nate to bed, and experience has told me that he WILL NOT fall asleep when I hold him. He fakes it and then starts screaming when you try to tiptoe out of the room.

Nate slept soundly until midnight, at which point he woke up and began gurgling as thought it were 6am already. I fed him, I rocked him, but he insisted it was daytime. The fourth time I tried leaving him be in his crib, Nick woke up and I ended up with both of them smooched on my lap, Nick with his head on my shoulder and eyes wide open, and Nathan looking around and looking for the best way to roll off my lap.

I slept the rest of the night in the guest room while nursing Nate (he was still out of sorts from his shots or I wouldn't have.)

I promised Nick a trip to the library and Steve and I need to apply for Nate's passport. I am doing laundry. It is foggy, rainy, an thundery outside. Blah.

Nate at the doctor's

Nathan had a doctor's appointment this morning.

He is doing well. He had three shots, and only cried for ten seconds after they were administered. How macho! He is 15.5 pounds, and 25.25 inches tall, and everyone remarked on how cute and good natured he was.

The problem is, the carseat / carrier he currently uses, the one I was planning on using through our trip to France in July, when I need to take both boys on a plane and will need them for the car over there... the weight limit on the carseat is 20 pounds. The height limit is 26 inches. Nate isn't there yet, but probably will be by July. I'm unsure about what I'm going to do. We have one travel carseat, but I was going to have Nick use that one... Plus there is the other issue of needing to buy a second carseat for HERE. I was thinking Nick might outgrow carseats and we could just buy a booster, but he's far from 40 pounds. It wouldn't be a huge issue, but good, comfortable carseats are expensive.

The bottom line is: I have to think on this for awhile.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WINSTON!

I just HAD to post about our jellyfish fungus-mold thing today, but the most important item on today's agenda is WINSTON'S BIRTHDAY. I wouldn't want him to be upstaged by mold.

My brother Winston, just so you know, is turning 29 AGAIN! Or so he informed me this past weekend. But in real life, he's 30, which is the new 20. Winston is a little disorganized and confused, so sometimes people call him Kenneth, or Ken. I am pretty sure he left his phone charger at my house. I have known him longer than I have known anyone else in my whole life (besides my parents.)

Happy Birthday, Winston! I love you lots!

Chubby Rain

The other day I found tree in our yard entirely covered with these:

At first I thought I was fruit of some kind, waterlogged by the storm. But I simply couldn't remember ever seeing anything on that particular tree before. And these things looke more like jellyfish than anything else. But it simply hadn't rained enough or flooded enough to explain jellyfish washing up on a 20 foot tall juniper tree. Besides, they were only in that tree, not in the ones around it, or on the ground or anything.

Then I started thinking about this Dean Koontz book I read called The Taking. I'm not a huge Dean Koontz fan but I can't help reading his books anyway. This book involved alien life forms coming down in a rainstorm, including molds or fungi that disfigured trees and plants, turning backyards and streets into odd swampy jungly environments... A bit like the plot for the film they made in the movie Bowfinger, where the aliens come down IN THE RAINDROPS... I guess a lot of rain can make you start thinking crazy things.

We are pretty sure this is Cedar Apple Rust, which does affect juniper trees. It looks gross, but Steve assures me it's harmless, unless you happen to have apple trees. Which we don't.

Wanted: Tools to Build Ark

During the heat wave we had a few weeks back we had a picnic on our lawn. We took a blanket, packed a lunch, and walked to the edge of the brook to enjoy the weather.

See our blue house? See the clump of trees with the shed? All this is now under a couple of feet of water. The water level has actually gone down a little bit, but it is still raining. Roads are closed - Steve just called me from work to tell me how I might get to the grocery store. I wouldn't even attempt it, but we're out of milk and soda, our two most important staples. And quite honestly if I don't get out of this house for a few minutes today I'm going to go all Jack Nicholson from The Shining .

Side Note: I have an entire bookshelf dedicated to Stephen King books. And yet, when I went to look up the name of the main character in "The Shining" I discovered that I DO NOT OWN THAT BOOK! The Shining is not in my library. How can this be? How could I have missed it? And where did I read it?

I SAID send SCOOOBA GEEER!!!!

My father and my brother Winston came up to visit me this weekend, which was really nice. It rained the whole time, but I like to think they had a good time anyway. They like to come up to visit from New York City, not only to see my boys, (Nick, Nate, and Steve) but because we have a nice bit of rural property. As you can see from the photo above, we have a good sized lawn, and there's always the brook in the back for canoeing or kyaking. What? You don't see the brook in that photo? Well, it IS hard to see... it's that small black line... here, maybe THIS photo will help:




I TOLD you it was raining! Didn't I? DIDN'T I?

We usually see the water swell a bit in the spring, but this is the highest we've ever seen the brook rise in the three years we've been here. Yesterday Steve and Winston waded (and kyaked) through the water to save the canoe, which was actually in more danger of sinking than floating away. Later I spotted some Foam Targets floating away from where the previous owners had stored them behind the shed.

The scariest part took place at 10:30PM last night, when we got a phone call from the authorities stating that they were having a voluntary evacuation because a dam up the road might wash out. Steve and I talked it over and decided that the water behind the dam wasn't that high. Some houses are much lower, closer to the water, but our is up on a rise, and it would take MUCH more flooding before it even reached our basement floor. When and if the time comes he promised me we would load all babies and pets into the minivan and drive to his mother's. He's working at home today just in case.

The worst part is that the rain hasn't stopped. It keeps raining, and the report on TV said it would rain all week.

Oh! MOTHER'S Day!

When I was a kid, Mother's day was one of those "not real" holidays. Even at a young age, I felt it was just a normal day in disguise, as though I knew it was just an excuse card companies made up to try and sell greeting cards. It didn't really count. Oh, I loved my mother, and I was glad she had me, and my younger siblings. I was happy to make her pancakes or buy her flowers or a tea set, something to make her smile. But something about the day... didn't apply. I didn't understand why she needed her own special day.

Now that I am a mother, I get it. Oh! Yeah! These past few nights when I've been getting up every 2 hours with Nate? Yesterday when he puked in my hair? When Nick puked at the breakfast table? The endless loads of laundry? The fact that I haven't been out to the movies in two years? Or been able to listen to a CD that isn't the Wiggles without someone crying asking for the Wiggles? The screaming, the crying, the whining, the 3000 diapers I have chenged - and the 3000 I will still have to change... the shopping, the dinner, the clean up... THAT'S WHAT IT'S FOR! TODAY! TODAY IS FOR ALL THAT! OH! I GET IT NOW!

Thanks, Mom. Happy Mother's Day, for real. I hope you are having a good time in Thailand with Jamie - WHO HAS YOU ALL TO HIMSELF AND HE BETTER APPRECIATE IT!

Morning Cup Of Coffee

It's raining
It's pouring
Today will be boring
Nate's in bed and
Nick is fed
That's all we've done this morning


My father and
My brother
are here without my mother
We don't know what to do
The sky's gray and not blue
We're just talking to each other


I'm not great
At rhyming
Or wording, or timing
but I thought I'd try
and see if I'd get by
in this format... um... this morning.

Which doesn't rhyme. A lot of this was a bit of a stretch, huh? Well, I did this off the top of my head, and it IS the weekend, so please cut me some slack and kudos to me for trying. Not everything is genetic.

MI3

Mission Impossible: to do errands without a total meltdown.

If I do manage to get Nathan in his carseat without crying, remember to pack juice and a snack for Nick... If he doesn't manage to finish his drink within 2 minutes of getting in the car... if I manage to get through to store quickly enough so Nate doesn't have time to get figity and begin crying... If Nick doesn't throw a fit because I won't buy him M&M's... If I can get them back into their carseats without fuss...

If ALL THIS happens, then I know Nick will fall asleep in the car and begin screaming when we get home and I tell him he has to walk to the door because I can't carry him and Nate and the shopping bags.

I guess no photo today. Blogger won't let me.

The Peace Pipe

See this photo of my youngest child? See te green plug in his mouth? We're getting rid of it.

Nick never took to a pacifier, so I've never done this before. Nathan didn't sleep with it all night or anything like that, but he would calm himself with it. He fussed until one of us stuck it in his mouth.

I don't think a pacifier is evil or anything, but three days ago I noticed a little sore in the corner of Nate's little mouth. Like a cold sore, and I thought we should probably loose the pacifiers, at least for a while.

Overall, Nate has been a trooper. He's fine as long as I'm holding him. But last night and today I reached my breaking point. I simply can't spend 45 minutes of every hour nursing him. I can't even hold him that much. So now I must listen to him fuss and cry and do this funny singing thing over the baby monitor. I can't give in. No, really, I can't. I've misplaced all the binkies in the house. Nick probably has them all stashed somewhere.

Wanted: Scuba Gear

It is raining. Again.

Steve is gone tonight on business, which leaves me with the kids. We really are lost without him because I time certain events - like lunch, naps, dinner, and bathtime - around his comings and goings. And when he isn't here to help us out, our daily dance misses a few steps, and I end up feeding the kids an hour earlier than usual, putting them to bed much earlier than usual, and then they wake up earlier than usual, and our day progresses from there.

With the rain, I can't even distract them with the outdoors. I am trying very, very hard not to give in and turn on the TV, as my goal is LESS TV, not MORE. I'm also trying really hard not to steal the chocolate I got for Jamie's next care package, because it's already the 3rd bag of chocolate I got, and it's HIS. I should just go tape the box up right now. It's just that Nick is dancing all over the place. He says "Outside?" then "Daddy?" then "Anne-e Fun?" Over and over again until I start looking on the web for sensory deprivation tanks to ease my raw nerves.

This picture is of Frank, who has now taken over Nate's carrier.

Dishwashing Babe

Our dishwasher is broken.

Last week I noticed that the springs on the door had gone, so that if you opened it the door would fall ALL the way open instead of nicely staying where you put it. You had to lower it all the way each time unless you wanted to risk it falling on your toes, or a child's head, or the dog.

It got that way from Nick climbing on the open door attempting to get INTO the dishwasher and obtain the sharp and pointy knives. Also, there were sip cups in there that he could SEE, but that I kept refusing to give him, because they were empty and dirty and for all I knew covered with mold, but what did I know?

On Saturday I went to open the dishwasher and realized I couldn't. It wasn't stuck, exactly. The handle had broken. The part you usually push up to undo whatever latch is in there had snapped, and there was no way to fix it without opening the dishwasher door... which of course we couldn't do... you see our problem, Dear Liza, Dear Liza?

Eventually Steve took a crowbar and pried it open so that we could get our old dishes out. But now the front of the dishwasher is off, the thing will not open once latched, and the door is actually a leathal weapon in disguise. So I am washing all our dishes by hand until we can get our acts together and purchase a new one. Which better be soon, because we go through 17 sip cups a day, not to mention little parts to bottles, breast pumps, and the 45 dishes that I alone manage to produce each day.

OH - The picture is of my cat, Puck, who is too beatiful to be touched, but who reminds us all of his existance by leaving tufts of white hair EVERYWHERE, especially after the vacuum has been run for longer than 20 seconds.

One Thing and Another

When I come back from grocery shopping I bring everything inside and place it on the floor before putting it away. A couple of weeks ago I turned around and saw that Nick had reached into one of the plastic bags and removed a whole tomato, which he was eating like an apple, just taking bites out of it. So I grabbed the camera.

That's me. We went to the zoo yesterday, but did I remember the camera? No. I did not. But pictures of my kid eating tomatoes? Yes. I have that. Besides, photos of the zoo never turn out right. You always get someone st anding in front of what looks like an empty cage. "Is that a giraffe or a hippo? I can't tell."

I will use this photo as proof of healthy snack-giving. "Look! A tomato! We DO give him more than cookies and chocolate!"

Today is my friend Betsy's birthday.

Beleive it or not, I have spent time with her in places other than her wedding, pictured here (look! me with Betsy! See? I KNOW her! We're TOGETHER!) However, as I was looking through the photos of us together ten years ago... that would be TEN years ago... The only pictures of us together were of a certain trip to Florida, and Betsy, I love you too much to put those pictures on the internet. (NO, she was not naked, you awful people! She simply got a bad sunburn on her face!) So here is a picture of us together at your wedding.

Betsy, Happy Birthday to You! (30! She is 30! Ha ha ha! Now she is a "real" grown up like me) I hope your day is wonderful and that your 30's are as fun and eventful as your 20's... how can they not be? You have Logan.

Weather Control

I have done it! I have discovered the secret to controling the weather! Bwahahahaha!

Apparently, if I hang my laundry to dry outside, it wil remain overcast, and will eventually begin to rain.

If, however, I rush outside and remove my laundry, take it insinde, and put it in my dryer, the rain will stop, and a few rays of sunshine might actually peek through the clouds.

Amazing, isn't it?

Look Closely

This is my favorite picture of Nathan yet! Because it makes me laugh.

It's almost eighty degrees out, so I have no time for you internet people today. Must go enjoy the weather! Ta ta!

An elephant sat on...

Nick says more every day. But there are some words he will not say - some NAMES he will not say. Some he LOVES to say (Anne-e). And others he can't.

Last night, as I was drying him off after bath, I was singing Willaby Wallaby Woo (you know - an elephant sat on you?) And I was going through our names, letting him finish for me. Here's what happened:

Willaby Wallaby Wommy
An elephant sat on... Mommy!
Willaby Wallaby Waddy
An elephant sat on... Daddy!

Willaby Wallaby Wathan
An elephant sat on... Nathan! (he said Nathan, not Nay nay!)
Willaby Wallaby Wicholas
An elephant sat on... Dis. (He hasn't said Nicholas yet - he calls himself "Boy.")

Willaby Wallaby Wanny
An elephant sat on.. Anne-e!
Willaby Wallaby Wemily
An elephant sat on... Fis.

Willaby Wallaby Wamie
An elephant sat on... Inson! (OK, so now I can skip Winston)
Willaby Wallaby Wamma
An elephant sat on... Paw paw! (Grampa)

At this point I stopped because I was giggling too much, and Nick had abviously just started to say people's names and stop rhyming.

Harvard's Mini Me

I have been looking for "school" options for Nicholas. Nothing full time, just two or three days a week so that he can begin getting used to "school" and begin interacting with children his age.

Before he was born we visited one place just around the corner, and I called them and asked for updated information. This morning, we visited another location.

The first thing I did when we got home was take the two information packets, sift through the pages of program descriptions, mission statements, offered activities, and parent references, to find the most important pages of all: The Program Rates. I mean, come on, does it matter if their playground equipment is top of the line if we can't afford to step foot in the playground?

Well... I'm not sure we can afford to step foot in the playground. The place we saw today... the classroom for his age group was rather small. It would include children as young as 14 months - the only requirement is that they be walking. He would need to be potty trained before he could move up to the nursery class. And I still don't know if we could afford the tuition for two days a week.

I'm torn because I really want to give Nicholas the opportunity to interact with other kids. We do have the occasional playgroup, which is great! But seeing kids on a regular basis, and having a routine that is consistant can be valuable, too. Of course, he's still very young, but they grow and develop so quickly... Choices, choices, choices... He cried when we left.

I was wrong

Before I became a parent - about a billion years before I became a parent - I worked with kids in a daycare center. Even before then I began to formulate my ideas about raising kids and what was appropriate, and what I would or would not do as a parent. And I was wrong about some of these things. Actually, I was wrong about many of these things. I'm sure I will be wrong about many more things yet to come, especially when we get to the teenage years, but I can't think that far ahead because I start to hyperventilate.

Here is a list of a few of the things I have been wrong about to date:

- I swore I would never use pull-up diapers. They seemed so annoying and a little bit useless, actually. But recently I realized that they could be pulled up and down, where diapers couldn't. And I am really trying to get Nick excited about using the toilet.
- I was not going to feed my kids candy. It's not like I feed them spun sugar for breakfast, but recently Nick threw a fit when I didn't buy M&M's at the checkout counter, and I realized that I had gotten into a habit which was worse for him than it was for me... no more M&M's.
- I would limit TV time. And I do. It's just that there's much more of it to limit. I need to get better at it, but it's so convenient for when I need to do things like get dressed or write this blog.
- We would play outside as much as we can. Nick would be outside right now, if he could. In the cold, wet rain. Nate would never leave the house, but he has no say. I have a very limited range of tolerance to temperature, and it's usually too hot or too cold to stay out longer than an hour.
- I would not be one of those hysterical parents who called the doctor for every little thing. I am one of those hysterical parents who calls the doctor for every little thing.
- I would not become one of those parents that looses the ability to have a grown up conversation that does not include talking about the cute things my kids do. I recently realized I have nothing to speak to some of my friends about, and a lot of this is because they have no kids stories to swap. If they tell me a story about their date last Saturday, I feel I need something better than "there's a new slide at the park" or "we saw some goats" to reply with.
- I would never be caught outside the house without diapers or a bottle (or juice) or a change of clothes. This happens to me ALL THE TIME.
- I would keep pairs of my kids' socks together in the laundry. Can one defy nature? I think not.
- I would keep up with the laundry so that my little boy wouldn't be forced to wear palid pyjama bottoms with a blue striped shirt out in public. No comment necessary.

A Nose By Any Other Name would Still Smell...

In case you haven't noticed, I have started adding titles to my daily entries. It took me this long to add titles because 1) I cringed at the thought of three consecutive entries entitled "I'm still Pregnant" or "Another sleepless night" and more importantly 2) I had no idea how to get titles to show up. But now I have, and now all who read this will be subjected to titles with obscure references to the content, strange inside jokes I share with no one but myself, and other, plainer, mediocre titles beause some things do not deserve a title.

Nick slept until 7 today, which, just so you know, is pretty much like your every day person sleeping until 10am. I mean, the GLORY of sleping in so late was almost more than I could take. He was awake for about 5 minutes before he threw up. I chalked it up to a fluke and kept going with our day, but he threw up again, AT the breakfast table. So he's sick, which pretty much negates the whole "sleeping an extra hour" thing.

Now we won't be going to Story Time at the library. We won't be leaving the house. We will probably watch a lot of TV. I am stir crazy already.