It's a sad day for my wallet.
Some of you know that at one point in the band "experience" I sort of lost my cool. I felt such a lack of control in our life that I was going to scream or hit or leave. One of my biggest frustrations was that I felt like I didn't have any control over ANY of our money. My birthday was coming, and that was the last straw because I knew my b-day check would go straight to the band. I just couldn't handle it.
Finally, one day I blurted out as a last resort, "I think I need my own bank account." I thought Tim would go postal, but he just said, "Ok, that sounds great. If that is what you need, do it."
So, feeling like a very mature and more controlled women, I searched out banks, and I picked one for me. I opened some accounts with Washington Mutual. I used passwords and pins that Tim didn't know, and I truly enjoyed this little piece of MINE (Don't touch.) I think for a long time, Tim didn't even know where the account was.
Well, a few weeks after I opened the account with my $100, I got hired full time at the college. Suddenly I was the major bread winner, and HE, HE, HE, I had all the money in my private little space. (Not "secret" little space. We don't keep secrets. I feel very strongly about that -- for the the record.) I had half of my check deposited in my Wamu accounts and half into our joint accounts at other banks so Tim could pay all the bills.
I messed up a lot, overdrew a lot, lost my checks a lot, ran out of money a lot. But it was mine, and that is what mattered at the time.
When Tim left the band, we started joking about my "secret" accounts. I would pretend to be worried about him looking over my shoulder and stuff like that when I was banking online. And he kept telling me that Wamu sucks, and I should find another bank. I, of course, would retort that he was just trying to get his grubby hands on my large estate. We laughed about it, but there was always a little truth, which made us laugh even harder. I would just always remind him. "I can't leave Wamu. Wamu saved our married when you were being crazy."
But Wamu is no more. It is turning to Chase Bank, and I hate Chase. So, this is my ode to a dying bank. As I take my money to a local credit union this week, I just wanted to thank Wamu for giving me the strength I needed during a time that was hard as hell. You felt save to me, Wamu. Thank you. May you rest in peace.
And may my credit union have better overdraft protection.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Shelly the Nanny
I just wanted to take a minute and say how much I love my nanny.
I guess if you use the dictionary definition, she is probably not my nanny. She is the neighbor's nanny, and they let me pay her extra to watch Quinn. She is the best babysitter, friend, support and employee a person could ask for. She loves Quinn and seems to really care about our family even when we are making her get up way too early for a sudden schedule change. She lets us drop off Quinn at a minutes notice, and she can straighten up a pile of books or toys better than anyone I know.
More importantly she is a great mom, and she applies that to being a great nanny. She uses the same tone of voice I do when disciplining or correcting the kids. Her little boy doesn't know what a cookie is, and she apologized to me once for feeding Quinn pizza for lunch one day. (If she only knew how much pizza Quinn consumes at home...)
She really is great. My schedule is wrapping up this week, and although I am so glad to be home with Quinn for the next 4 months, I will really miss our Shelly. Luckily she'll be on call when McKenna comes to watch my sister's little girls so Kristie can help me get this baby out of me. And I am always looking for more ways to keep Shelly in our life.
She is just a great support. I think every mom and every Quinn deserves to have a Shelly. But you can't have mine... so don't even think about it.
I guess if you use the dictionary definition, she is probably not my nanny. She is the neighbor's nanny, and they let me pay her extra to watch Quinn. She is the best babysitter, friend, support and employee a person could ask for. She loves Quinn and seems to really care about our family even when we are making her get up way too early for a sudden schedule change. She lets us drop off Quinn at a minutes notice, and she can straighten up a pile of books or toys better than anyone I know.
More importantly she is a great mom, and she applies that to being a great nanny. She uses the same tone of voice I do when disciplining or correcting the kids. Her little boy doesn't know what a cookie is, and she apologized to me once for feeding Quinn pizza for lunch one day. (If she only knew how much pizza Quinn consumes at home...)
She really is great. My schedule is wrapping up this week, and although I am so glad to be home with Quinn for the next 4 months, I will really miss our Shelly. Luckily she'll be on call when McKenna comes to watch my sister's little girls so Kristie can help me get this baby out of me. And I am always looking for more ways to keep Shelly in our life.
She is just a great support. I think every mom and every Quinn deserves to have a Shelly. But you can't have mine... so don't even think about it.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
So many posts
So, I know I have been blogging A TON lately. When I was writing a post early this week, Tim said, "Are you averaging like 2 a day now?"
Well, here is the thing. The more pregnant I get the fewer phone calls I make and the more sitting on my butt I do. These two trends are very conducive to blogging -- I'm not keeping in contact with a lot of people that I really care about AND what better thing to do when sitting on your rear than share you thoughts and your life? And then there is the blog phenomenon that once you start you can't stop. It is like a friend you talk to everyday -- you get in a habit, and you have to pick up the phone. I'm like this with Bridget and Lindsay and my sister, If I get in the zone with them, I have to call EVERYDAY. I've been that way with my mom this week too. I keep having to apologize for giving her every detail. (Maybe she should be a more faithful reader. Someone send her a memo...)
Anyway, my apologies if my posts are clogging your blog reader. I have a hunch things will slow down when my angel arrives or when I get pooped out or when I get this 12 page paper turned in next week and no longer have such big project to avoid. :)
Well, here is the thing. The more pregnant I get the fewer phone calls I make and the more sitting on my butt I do. These two trends are very conducive to blogging -- I'm not keeping in contact with a lot of people that I really care about AND what better thing to do when sitting on your rear than share you thoughts and your life? And then there is the blog phenomenon that once you start you can't stop. It is like a friend you talk to everyday -- you get in a habit, and you have to pick up the phone. I'm like this with Bridget and Lindsay and my sister, If I get in the zone with them, I have to call EVERYDAY. I've been that way with my mom this week too. I keep having to apologize for giving her every detail. (Maybe she should be a more faithful reader. Someone send her a memo...)
Anyway, my apologies if my posts are clogging your blog reader. I have a hunch things will slow down when my angel arrives or when I get pooped out or when I get this 12 page paper turned in next week and no longer have such big project to avoid. :)
No, I fu' Tummy, Mommy
So, a few weeks ago I picked Quinn up from the Nanny (ode to my Nanny post coming soon), but I forgot to ask if she had fed Quinn lunch. When we got home, I asked Quinn if she wanted some berries or if she had a full tummy. She said, "I fu' Tummy, Mommy." Then the nanny called to say, "Oh, I forgot to tell you: Quinn had a really big lunch over here right before you came."
So, riddle me this? Wouldn't you assume that your child understood what a full tummy was? I thought I heard her use it in the right context a few more times. Do you want lunch? No, I fu' Tummy. Done. Next Topic.
Wrong.
Last week she started answering like this: Do you want to go out and play? "No, I fu' Tummy, Mommy." Oh, are you sick? Does your tummy hurt. "No, I fu' Tummy, Mommy." I thought she had gas.
But it kept going on and on, and now finally figured out that "I have a full tummy" means, "No, thanks. I do not want to do that right now."
Should we change your diaper? "No, I fu' Tummy, Mommy."
It's bed time Quinn. "No way. I fu' Tummy."
I thought is was just a strange misunderstanding until I made another connection about her misnomer.
"Mommy, come sit me." No, sorry baby my tummy is too full today. I can't sit on the floor.
"Mommy, watch me, watch me." No, Quinnny, I can get up. My tummy is too tight today.
"Mommy, I go wa-a (walk)." No, my tummy is too full of baby for a walk today."
Oops.
So, riddle me this? Wouldn't you assume that your child understood what a full tummy was? I thought I heard her use it in the right context a few more times. Do you want lunch? No, I fu' Tummy. Done. Next Topic.
Wrong.
Last week she started answering like this: Do you want to go out and play? "No, I fu' Tummy, Mommy." Oh, are you sick? Does your tummy hurt. "No, I fu' Tummy, Mommy." I thought she had gas.
But it kept going on and on, and now finally figured out that "I have a full tummy" means, "No, thanks. I do not want to do that right now."
Should we change your diaper? "No, I fu' Tummy, Mommy."
It's bed time Quinn. "No way. I fu' Tummy."
I thought is was just a strange misunderstanding until I made another connection about her misnomer.
"Mommy, come sit me." No, sorry baby my tummy is too full today. I can't sit on the floor.
"Mommy, watch me, watch me." No, Quinnny, I can get up. My tummy is too tight today.
"Mommy, I go wa-a (walk)." No, my tummy is too full of baby for a walk today."
Oops.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Pictures of the Big Move
Saturday, April 25, 2009
When this girl makes a decision, she runs with it.
Quinn took parts of the move very seriously. She hand picked the most important toys to join her down stairs. Of course, her dog-dog was first on the to do list.
Playing with some toys and testing out the new floor.
Testing out the new crib by jumping up and down.
Not really bed time, but time to pretend and test things out.
When this girl makes a decision, she runs with it.
Quinn took parts of the move very seriously. She hand picked the most important toys to join her down stairs. Of course, her dog-dog was first on the to do list.
Playing with some toys and testing out the new floor.
Testing out the new crib by jumping up and down.
Not really bed time, but time to pretend and test things out.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Nesting like Crazy
So, it worked! Quinn slept in her new room in the basement last night AND slept through the night. Not sure if she really stayed asleep or if we just couldn't hear her. Either way is fine with me. I was way too excited for her to wake up this morning. I even got out of bed at 5:30 a.m. and started cleaning as quietly as possible. When I heard her, I ran down to congratulate her. She told me she had pee-pee and wanted to be changed. That is a big step for her because normally she runs away when she needs a new diaper.
I kept cleaning all morning like a crazy person. What better time to clean out the baby's room than at 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning when you are sore, exhausted and pregnant? I think that is the definition of "nesting." I'm cleaning out drawers that I haven't touched since Quinn was born. And I'm not stopping at baby stuff. Nothing is safe in my house right now. I hope the trash cans are empty. I was cleaning, dumping, tossing, and I just couldn't stop.
When Tim told me it was about time to get ready for church, I told him I couldn't go because I was cleaning. .... ah, hello? If anyone knows me, you'll know I LOVE church and HATE cleaning. He was confused. I ended up going to church, but I was ticked because I sort f lost my cleaning mo-jo while I was there. Now I'm all sleepy.
P.S. I am starting to get those comments like, "How on earth could you get any bigger?" Nice. Honestly, what are people thinking. Especially strangers.
I kept cleaning all morning like a crazy person. What better time to clean out the baby's room than at 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning when you are sore, exhausted and pregnant? I think that is the definition of "nesting." I'm cleaning out drawers that I haven't touched since Quinn was born. And I'm not stopping at baby stuff. Nothing is safe in my house right now. I hope the trash cans are empty. I was cleaning, dumping, tossing, and I just couldn't stop.
When Tim told me it was about time to get ready for church, I told him I couldn't go because I was cleaning. .... ah, hello? If anyone knows me, you'll know I LOVE church and HATE cleaning. He was confused. I ended up going to church, but I was ticked because I sort f lost my cleaning mo-jo while I was there. Now I'm all sleepy.
P.S. I am starting to get those comments like, "How on earth could you get any bigger?" Nice. Honestly, what are people thinking. Especially strangers.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Painting Day: part 4. Moving Day!
Well, today accidentally turned into Moving Day!!!
After a very long day of recovery and 4 hours of writing a 12 pape research paper, I started cleaning up the paint supplies. Quinn came downstairs and saw me take off the tape and plastic and move her new crib back into the corner.
That was all it took. Her eyes lit up! She wanted to be in that bed, and the emotionally for her the move was complete. No balloons. No Party. No new P.J.'s.
I put her in the new crib. She jumped up and down, pretended to go to sleep, and asked for her Dog-dog. So we marched up stairs, found the dog and the passey and packed a few bags. We grabbed her special blankets, some books, some diapers, some pants and a pair of shoes, and within a few minutes she was moved in. (No furniture yet...)
There is no door, no molding, and only one window with glass in it. (The other one has boards up until the new windows arrive.) The walls are gross (but painted) and the outlets have no covers. But let me tell you, that is her room, and she is sticking to it. I even brought down the old shower rod and blanket that we use to black out the windows in her nursery. I installed the old contraption in the new room. It's ghetto... but it's home.
She took a bath with major bubbles, and when she was done, Tim took her down to her new room to get her ready for bed like it was old hat. Then we brought her back up stairs, and I made another notch on the back of the nursery door to indicate her height: Kristie Quinn, 25 and a half months, First Night in her Big Girl Room!
Then we put her in the new crib, sang our normal songs, said a prayer, and said Good Night.
She stayed quiet for awhile until I started making tortillas and cheese for me and Tim for dinner. I went down to see what was the matter. She looked at me and said, "I eat cheese too Mommy." Oops! Turns out in all the excitement, I forgot to feed her dinner. How on earth she knew we were eating cheese I will never know. I brought her some cheese, and Tim feed her a yogurt in her bed.
We haven't heard from her since.
And with that our baby became a big girl.
After a very long day of recovery and 4 hours of writing a 12 pape research paper, I started cleaning up the paint supplies. Quinn came downstairs and saw me take off the tape and plastic and move her new crib back into the corner.
That was all it took. Her eyes lit up! She wanted to be in that bed, and the emotionally for her the move was complete. No balloons. No Party. No new P.J.'s.
I put her in the new crib. She jumped up and down, pretended to go to sleep, and asked for her Dog-dog. So we marched up stairs, found the dog and the passey and packed a few bags. We grabbed her special blankets, some books, some diapers, some pants and a pair of shoes, and within a few minutes she was moved in. (No furniture yet...)
There is no door, no molding, and only one window with glass in it. (The other one has boards up until the new windows arrive.) The walls are gross (but painted) and the outlets have no covers. But let me tell you, that is her room, and she is sticking to it. I even brought down the old shower rod and blanket that we use to black out the windows in her nursery. I installed the old contraption in the new room. It's ghetto... but it's home.
She took a bath with major bubbles, and when she was done, Tim took her down to her new room to get her ready for bed like it was old hat. Then we brought her back up stairs, and I made another notch on the back of the nursery door to indicate her height: Kristie Quinn, 25 and a half months, First Night in her Big Girl Room!
Then we put her in the new crib, sang our normal songs, said a prayer, and said Good Night.
She stayed quiet for awhile until I started making tortillas and cheese for me and Tim for dinner. I went down to see what was the matter. She looked at me and said, "I eat cheese too Mommy." Oops! Turns out in all the excitement, I forgot to feed her dinner. How on earth she knew we were eating cheese I will never know. I brought her some cheese, and Tim feed her a yogurt in her bed.
We haven't heard from her since.
And with that our baby became a big girl.
what hurts, what's left
my hips
my hands
my feet
my neck
my abs (I don't even have those right now! how can they hurt?)
my girlie parts
my shoulders
my heartburn
my knees
my back
But not my heart because I have a beautifully painted room for my angel.
Next on the list is to buy:
White picture frames for the yellow wall
Colorful curtains for the windows and closest
A dresser (found it today at a garage sale ... Melissa, Help!)
A book shelf
baskets and bins for the book shelf
An "I hope they call me on a mission" sign
A colorful picture of a temple and of Jesus
A Rug
Mini blinds
Pictures for the frames (of Quinn and bob, Quinn and Mom, and a family pic when McKenna gets here)
my hands
my feet
my neck
my abs (I don't even have those right now! how can they hurt?)
my girlie parts
my shoulders
my heartburn
my knees
my back
But not my heart because I have a beautifully painted room for my angel.
Next on the list is to buy:
White picture frames for the yellow wall
Colorful curtains for the windows and closest
A dresser (found it today at a garage sale ... Melissa, Help!)
A book shelf
baskets and bins for the book shelf
An "I hope they call me on a mission" sign
A colorful picture of a temple and of Jesus
A Rug
Mini blinds
Pictures for the frames (of Quinn and bob, Quinn and Mom, and a family pic when McKenna gets here)
Friday, April 24, 2009
Painting Day: part 3
All is well, and I don't think my body will ever be the same after this very long day.
Lindsay and I got the last edges painted in Quinn's room by about 4:45 p.m. That was just in time to greet Bridget and Ben, who were just driving through town. Half an hour with my dear friends-- and then they were on their way.
Quinn and I jumped in the shower ASAP. I jumped .... and dragged Quinn. She doesn't like to be rushed during bathing, but we had no choice. We were due at my friends graduation dinner at 6. If you do the mommy math on that, it equals impossible. But we jumped in the shower anyway at 5:20. The restaurant was 12 minutes away, so we needed to be in the car IN PRETTY DRESSES by 5:45.
At 5:32 p.m. I realized my garments were flying out from under my dress thanks to my giant belly. I fixed that problem with tights. (I tried to convince myself that "support" tights from Motherhood Maternity would actually make my legs feel better after all the squatting all day).
Quinn was still screaming NO about getting out of the bath at 5:37 p.m. I somehow fixed that one and was yanking a comb through her hair as fast as possible. There were some tears, but we got in the car -- all dressed and beautiful -- by 5:48. Actually, it took a few tries to get in the car because my thigh kept hitting my belly which would knock my shoe off my foot and into the driveway. After three tries at this I had success. (And by the way, it was not until I got in the car that I texted the hostess to tell her I was bringing my 2-year-old to her dinner party because I forgot to secure the baby sitter who ended up having her own graduation dinner to go to.)
So longest day ever but really fun.
When I got home, I rushed (barely made it) downstairs to double check our handy work, and let me tell you -- in the dark and without glasses -- we did a kick butt job!!
Still to come is the paint in my mom's room AND pictures of Quinn's new paradise. But give me time. It might be a long recovery after today.
Lindsay and I got the last edges painted in Quinn's room by about 4:45 p.m. That was just in time to greet Bridget and Ben, who were just driving through town. Half an hour with my dear friends-- and then they were on their way.
Quinn and I jumped in the shower ASAP. I jumped .... and dragged Quinn. She doesn't like to be rushed during bathing, but we had no choice. We were due at my friends graduation dinner at 6. If you do the mommy math on that, it equals impossible. But we jumped in the shower anyway at 5:20. The restaurant was 12 minutes away, so we needed to be in the car IN PRETTY DRESSES by 5:45.
At 5:32 p.m. I realized my garments were flying out from under my dress thanks to my giant belly. I fixed that problem with tights. (I tried to convince myself that "support" tights from Motherhood Maternity would actually make my legs feel better after all the squatting all day).
Quinn was still screaming NO about getting out of the bath at 5:37 p.m. I somehow fixed that one and was yanking a comb through her hair as fast as possible. There were some tears, but we got in the car -- all dressed and beautiful -- by 5:48. Actually, it took a few tries to get in the car because my thigh kept hitting my belly which would knock my shoe off my foot and into the driveway. After three tries at this I had success. (And by the way, it was not until I got in the car that I texted the hostess to tell her I was bringing my 2-year-old to her dinner party because I forgot to secure the baby sitter who ended up having her own graduation dinner to go to.)
So longest day ever but really fun.
When I got home, I rushed (barely made it) downstairs to double check our handy work, and let me tell you -- in the dark and without glasses -- we did a kick butt job!!
Still to come is the paint in my mom's room AND pictures of Quinn's new paradise. But give me time. It might be a long recovery after today.
Painting Day: part 2
Oh, dear me. I am so tired. My feet and hands are aching. I guess I have a tight paint roller grip because I think I am getting blisters. Again, I say... dear me.
So, it is 3:55 and so far we have everything done in Quinn's room except the edges of the yellow wall. It looks great ... and ghetto ... all at the same time. The window well in that room is super ghetto. The yellow in the window space makes the wall look like it belongs in a dirty preschool, but I think that affect will change when the new windows get installed in a few weeks.
In my mom's room we've got the primer on and the ceiling painted, and I am gearing to go on the paint.... but also so tired, so here I sit blogging.
It has been perfect chaos over here today! Melissa and Asher came at about 10, and Melissa went to WORK! She is the fastest painter ever. I am about the slowest. When Lindsay and the boys showed up, Lindsay took over babysitter duty upstairs like a champ.
We took a break at noon to throw a little B-day party for Trace Turner, our nanny's little 2-year-old. We got a few more strays and ended up serving food for 5 adults and 8 kids. Pizza and cupcakes!!
And then it was back to work during nap time.
It has been a long day, but I figure -- As Kristie always says, Why under do what you can over do?
So, it is 3:55 and so far we have everything done in Quinn's room except the edges of the yellow wall. It looks great ... and ghetto ... all at the same time. The window well in that room is super ghetto. The yellow in the window space makes the wall look like it belongs in a dirty preschool, but I think that affect will change when the new windows get installed in a few weeks.
In my mom's room we've got the primer on and the ceiling painted, and I am gearing to go on the paint.... but also so tired, so here I sit blogging.
It has been perfect chaos over here today! Melissa and Asher came at about 10, and Melissa went to WORK! She is the fastest painter ever. I am about the slowest. When Lindsay and the boys showed up, Lindsay took over babysitter duty upstairs like a champ.
We took a break at noon to throw a little B-day party for Trace Turner, our nanny's little 2-year-old. We got a few more strays and ended up serving food for 5 adults and 8 kids. Pizza and cupcakes!!
And then it was back to work during nap time.
It has been a long day, but I figure -- As Kristie always says, Why under do what you can over do?
Painting Day: part 1
so, remember how the deal was: The baby's name will be McKenna if Tim gets to make the choices on the basement including but not limited to NOT painting until everything down there is all done?
He, he, too bad. It is painting day.
We had some financial detours on the parts of the basement we were going to finish, and I told Tim that the no paint contract is null and void. However, I our daughters name will still be Avery McKenna, so again, he, he, I win.
But win? is that the right word? I was up at 5:30 taping plastic to the new basement floor, and by 7 a.m. I already had a sore arm from painting. Dear me. I always think of painting as so fun, but I am already really tired.
But it is all worth it for my Quinn. Her new room will have three white walls and one yellow wall. Tim vetoed most fun colors. That seems to be the best I could do, but I am really excited about it. While I was at Lowe's, I fell it love with a paint color for my mom's room (the guest room.) It is a pretty bluish, green, and it reminds me of a color she would paint in her beach house, which is her dream. So, more work, more tired, but more fun in the end.
I've got Lindsay and Melissa coming over to keep me company and maybe roll a bit, so it should be a great day. Look for pictures tomorrow!!
He, he, too bad. It is painting day.
We had some financial detours on the parts of the basement we were going to finish, and I told Tim that the no paint contract is null and void. However, I our daughters name will still be Avery McKenna, so again, he, he, I win.
But win? is that the right word? I was up at 5:30 taping plastic to the new basement floor, and by 7 a.m. I already had a sore arm from painting. Dear me. I always think of painting as so fun, but I am already really tired.
But it is all worth it for my Quinn. Her new room will have three white walls and one yellow wall. Tim vetoed most fun colors. That seems to be the best I could do, but I am really excited about it. While I was at Lowe's, I fell it love with a paint color for my mom's room (the guest room.) It is a pretty bluish, green, and it reminds me of a color she would paint in her beach house, which is her dream. So, more work, more tired, but more fun in the end.
I've got Lindsay and Melissa coming over to keep me company and maybe roll a bit, so it should be a great day. Look for pictures tomorrow!!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
What's the buzzing noise?
So, I am sitting in the front room watching a show, and I keep thinking my phone is buzzing with a text or a call.
I see a fly, and I think maybe that was the noise. But the fly went away, and the noise kept coming.
I thought maybe I was delirious.
Then I had a hunch.
I went into Quinn's room where she was sleeping soundly AND snoring like a sailor!!!
I can hear it all over the house.
So Cool!
I see a fly, and I think maybe that was the noise. But the fly went away, and the noise kept coming.
I thought maybe I was delirious.
Then I had a hunch.
I went into Quinn's room where she was sleeping soundly AND snoring like a sailor!!!
I can hear it all over the house.
So Cool!
Quinn Speak: My Own
I found my favorite water bottles at Wal-mart the other day. I bought a blue one for me, and Quinn picked out a red one. When we got home, she tried to drink from mine. But mine was full, and I knew she would spill, so I told her to "go get your own." (I had filled hers with just a few tablespoons, so it was harmless.)
Somehow she got that phrase, "your own," in her head, and now she thinks that that water bottle is called an "own." She'll cry, "my own, my own" "wan' my own."
Somehow she got that phrase, "your own," in her head, and now she thinks that that water bottle is called an "own." She'll cry, "my own, my own" "wan' my own."
Monday, April 20, 2009
Live Action from the Front Lines
So, I put Quinn to bed at 7 p.m. like always (ok, it was 6:45, but don't tell her.) She played in bed for an hour before I heard a quiet lull. Then suddenly I heard her scream bloody murder. It seemed like a fast personality switch, so I ran (walked) in there. I got her from the bed and put her on my lap on the rocking chair. Then I realized .... oh, bloody. Blood started pouring from her nose. What the heck?
There could only be two options -- a bonk or a pick. You know --a bonk, which is bound to happen when you jump in your crib for 55 minutes or a daring pick gone terribly wrong. As she calmed down. I tried to ask her: was it like this (imitate a bonk on the nose) or like this (imitate a pick). At one point she told me it was bonk, so I did what any reasonable (or stupid) person would do. I touched her nose to see if it made her cry again. No crying. Not broken. No bonk.
But then later she started demonstrating what could only be explained as a monster pick. If I could translate her gestures into words I would have to say, "I just wanted to see what was up there. All the way up there." She kind of moved her picking finger along the side of her nose all the way up to her forehead. Dear me. Yeah, that would hurt AND bleed.
So, I don't really know what happen, but I do know what I am supposed to be working and instead Quinn is sitting by me on the couch watching (even MORE) Elmo today because I've got to wipe the flow every few minutes.
There you have it. Live action from the front lines.
There could only be two options -- a bonk or a pick. You know --a bonk, which is bound to happen when you jump in your crib for 55 minutes or a daring pick gone terribly wrong. As she calmed down. I tried to ask her: was it like this (imitate a bonk on the nose) or like this (imitate a pick). At one point she told me it was bonk, so I did what any reasonable (or stupid) person would do. I touched her nose to see if it made her cry again. No crying. Not broken. No bonk.
But then later she started demonstrating what could only be explained as a monster pick. If I could translate her gestures into words I would have to say, "I just wanted to see what was up there. All the way up there." She kind of moved her picking finger along the side of her nose all the way up to her forehead. Dear me. Yeah, that would hurt AND bleed.
So, I don't really know what happen, but I do know what I am supposed to be working and instead Quinn is sitting by me on the couch watching (even MORE) Elmo today because I've got to wipe the flow every few minutes.
There you have it. Live action from the front lines.
Happy Birthday, Kristie!
It is my sister's birthday today. She rocks. Happy, Birthday Kristie!
She and I were best buds until she went to junior high. I was 5. By the time I hit high school we were talking again.
She gave me, "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" when I was 15 and having a hard time.
And when she worked in make-up, she always tried to buy me make-up I would actually wear.
She's the best and most attentive mom I know and has more energy for singing and playing and teaching than me or any one else in the world.
She calls me every day, buys great gifts, listens and really always cares.
She's always my first phone call of the day. I miss her every day. I learn from her every day.
We're different. We're the same. She asks me about bible stories, and I ask her about everything else.
I prefer her to do things before me, and when I do things out of order, it is never as fun.
She loves Kristie Quinn almost as much as I do and never forgets to show it.
She bawled when I finally conceived McKenna. Bawled! For a long time. No one on earth was happier for me.
And although I could go on for a long time, I'll end with this: She walks REALLY fast and makes a great chicken panini.
Happy Birthday again, sister. Not sure how old you're turning. But at least you'll always be older than me.
She and I were best buds until she went to junior high. I was 5. By the time I hit high school we were talking again.
She gave me, "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" when I was 15 and having a hard time.
And when she worked in make-up, she always tried to buy me make-up I would actually wear.
She's the best and most attentive mom I know and has more energy for singing and playing and teaching than me or any one else in the world.
She calls me every day, buys great gifts, listens and really always cares.
She's always my first phone call of the day. I miss her every day. I learn from her every day.
We're different. We're the same. She asks me about bible stories, and I ask her about everything else.
I prefer her to do things before me, and when I do things out of order, it is never as fun.
She loves Kristie Quinn almost as much as I do and never forgets to show it.
She bawled when I finally conceived McKenna. Bawled! For a long time. No one on earth was happier for me.
And although I could go on for a long time, I'll end with this: She walks REALLY fast and makes a great chicken panini.
Happy Birthday again, sister. Not sure how old you're turning. But at least you'll always be older than me.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
7 Weeks to Go
So, this pregnancy is starting to feel doable... finally ... with 7 weeks to go. Here is what is on the list of do's and done's and my thoughts of baby #2.
- Quinn is starting to say McKenna. She says it perfectly, and it is so cute. Some days I am sure she understands. Other times she has no clue. But today she fed McKenna a cheese-it.
- I have a half of a week of teaching left and then 2 weeks of grading and finishing up before I can just sit on my bum until McKenna gets here.
- Included in that two weeks of work are two weeks of school! Remember that I am taking two psychology classes this semester. So between now and May 1, I have to take a final exam, write a 6-page research paper, give a class presentation on some stats I don't understand, and edit another research paper. Needless to say, all that is the big stresser in my life right now.
- We lost our basement money, which really simplified the "How much money should we spend on the basement?" debate. And in the end, I get to paint Quinn's room after all, which is all I wanted. I win again. Wahoo!
- I actually felt pretty comfortable today. Maybe naming my baby gave both me and her some peace. We seem to be getting along better these days. Maybe I will stop praying for pre-term labor.
- I can't wait to go through Quinn's old baby clothes.
- Tim and I were talking today that we think it would be fun if McKenna looks like Quinn but with really dark hair.
- Did I tell you my sister bought me the cutest onesie that says, "A MacAllister & Fellow Production"? Amazing. All readers in child-baring years should expect one from me in the next few years.
- Not related to the new baby: but Quinn is passionate about saying "Bless you." She says, "Bless you, mommy" if I sneeze or sniff or blow my nose, and if she sneezes she says, "Bless you, me." Tonight she was talking to herself in bed for about an hour when Tim sneezed from the other room, and she yelled, "Bless you, Bob-Bob!!" She didn't skip a beat.
- I've been better with pre-natal yoga, and it is really working. I have a lot less pain, and I am having fewer sleepless nights. I also feel better if I take a short walk (very short) every day.
- I started talking to Quinn about letting McKenna use her old room after Quinn moves into a big girl room. It didn't quite go over that well. That is one reason why I think she DOES understand what is about to happen. If she thought McKenna was just another name for "Mommy's belly button," she would have been all about sharing her crib with it.
- Shh! But I am planning a trip to St. George to see my Bridget because she is having a hard time. And if old friends are not good for cheering you up, what is the point of keeping us around, right?
- I am not planting a garden this year. Instead, I will harvest a McKenna. So, what will we eat?
Saturday, April 18, 2009
You K?
While driving today, I yelled at the seemingly dumb driver in front of me, "What the Hell? Just go!"
Short pause. The car went.
Then I heard a little voice from the back seat, "Mommy? You K? You O.K. Mommy?"
She kept asking for about 5 minutes.
Short pause. The car went.
Then I heard a little voice from the back seat, "Mommy? You K? You O.K. Mommy?"
She kept asking for about 5 minutes.
Tree Pose
One of the most common balance poses in yoga is the tree pose.
It is normally not that difficult for me to do, but since one of the goals of the pose is to check in with yourself and evaluate your balance at that very moment in time, it is sometimes harder than others.
This morning I woke up so sore that couldn't sleep anymore. I grabbed my yoga mat from my car and turned on a prenatal yoga video to help me stretch and make more space for McKenna.
It took about 30 minutes to manage Quinn enough that I could give myself some time to start. And when I started, she was right next to me on my mat giving me babies and dog-dogs to hold and balls to throw. But I kept trying. A few times I had to say very nicely but firmly, "Move over. This is mommy's time and space right now."
But having my favorite distraction around is not always bad during yoga:
During tree pose today, Quinn really opened my eyes. As I stood on one foot trying to balance my opposite foot against my leg, she gently put her little hands on my hip and pushed me. Not sure why .... maybe I was in her space. But it really gave the pose new meaning for me.
Balance is easy when there is nothing pushing on you. The trick is to fine balance and peace in the times that are hard and naturally out of balance. So what if I can get everything done on a normal day? But what magic when I can sweep the floor or read books to a little one or do a dish or call a friend or take a short walk on a day when I hurt or can't find my way or when it feels like a baby is going to come out of my belly button.
Balance is beautiful. It is one of the great quests, and I am learning to appreciate it even when it hurts and on days when I can not possibly hold my pose.
It is normally not that difficult for me to do, but since one of the goals of the pose is to check in with yourself and evaluate your balance at that very moment in time, it is sometimes harder than others.
This morning I woke up so sore that couldn't sleep anymore. I grabbed my yoga mat from my car and turned on a prenatal yoga video to help me stretch and make more space for McKenna.
It took about 30 minutes to manage Quinn enough that I could give myself some time to start. And when I started, she was right next to me on my mat giving me babies and dog-dogs to hold and balls to throw. But I kept trying. A few times I had to say very nicely but firmly, "Move over. This is mommy's time and space right now."
But having my favorite distraction around is not always bad during yoga:
During tree pose today, Quinn really opened my eyes. As I stood on one foot trying to balance my opposite foot against my leg, she gently put her little hands on my hip and pushed me. Not sure why .... maybe I was in her space. But it really gave the pose new meaning for me.
Balance is easy when there is nothing pushing on you. The trick is to fine balance and peace in the times that are hard and naturally out of balance. So what if I can get everything done on a normal day? But what magic when I can sweep the floor or read books to a little one or do a dish or call a friend or take a short walk on a day when I hurt or can't find my way or when it feels like a baby is going to come out of my belly button.
Balance is beautiful. It is one of the great quests, and I am learning to appreciate it even when it hurts and on days when I can not possibly hold my pose.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Name, Floor, Crib
Big week. My dad came to town to walk the SLC marathon tomorrow, but he is the coolest guy ever and came three days early to work on project "Quinn in the Basement." He was here in October to put up the walls, and then on this trip he and Tim put down a beautiful hard floor. I love it. I'm freaking out with excitement.
Indirectly, this is how I won the McKenna battle between me and Tim. It had something to do with, "You can name her McKenna if we don't spend more than $X,000 on the rest of the basement this month." Done deal.
Also, right before my daddy was leaving today to head to SLC, he saw the disassembled crib that we have for Quinn's new room. We'll he is not one to leave a project understaffed, and he went right to work. I guess there are some technical difficulties, because he is still down there, and the project is getting louder. No swearing, though.
Anyway, Quinn already knows which basement room is her's, and I think she is going to be very excited when she wakes up and I show her the new crib.
We have some more work to do on the windows in her room, and then my mom is coming to help me through a "Big Girl Room Moving Day" Party for Quinn. She'll get balloons, new P.J.'s, some new toys. She'll help us take her clothes and books downstairs, and we are even planning a lunchtime picnic on the floor in her room. Then hopefully that night, she will sleep in her new crib and never know what hit her.
I decided to stick to a crib because I don't think she needs a big girl bed yet. She is not potty training or climbing out, and she seems to really love the security of a bed. Plus, I do not have the energy to walk her up and down the stairs in the middle of the night if she decides to be one of those kids who doesn't stay put. The new crib converts to a toddler bed, and we also have two twin beds already. So, looks like we are set .... once the technical difficulties are concluded, of course.
What a great Grandpa John!! I know you are all jealous. He really is amazing, and I think Quinn won his heart ALL over again last night at dinner when she focused hard to stack a bunch of ice cubes and then would yell "Ta Da" when they stayed. We also took him today to feed our favorite horses some apples. She was pretty tired, but I think he got the idea. My dad rocks. I hope the two days of manual labor don't mess up his race. Good Luck, Daddy!!
Indirectly, this is how I won the McKenna battle between me and Tim. It had something to do with, "You can name her McKenna if we don't spend more than $X,000 on the rest of the basement this month." Done deal.
Also, right before my daddy was leaving today to head to SLC, he saw the disassembled crib that we have for Quinn's new room. We'll he is not one to leave a project understaffed, and he went right to work. I guess there are some technical difficulties, because he is still down there, and the project is getting louder. No swearing, though.
Anyway, Quinn already knows which basement room is her's, and I think she is going to be very excited when she wakes up and I show her the new crib.
We have some more work to do on the windows in her room, and then my mom is coming to help me through a "Big Girl Room Moving Day" Party for Quinn. She'll get balloons, new P.J.'s, some new toys. She'll help us take her clothes and books downstairs, and we are even planning a lunchtime picnic on the floor in her room. Then hopefully that night, she will sleep in her new crib and never know what hit her.
I decided to stick to a crib because I don't think she needs a big girl bed yet. She is not potty training or climbing out, and she seems to really love the security of a bed. Plus, I do not have the energy to walk her up and down the stairs in the middle of the night if she decides to be one of those kids who doesn't stay put. The new crib converts to a toddler bed, and we also have two twin beds already. So, looks like we are set .... once the technical difficulties are concluded, of course.
What a great Grandpa John!! I know you are all jealous. He really is amazing, and I think Quinn won his heart ALL over again last night at dinner when she focused hard to stack a bunch of ice cubes and then would yell "Ta Da" when they stayed. We also took him today to feed our favorite horses some apples. She was pretty tired, but I think he got the idea. My dad rocks. I hope the two days of manual labor don't mess up his race. Good Luck, Daddy!!
The Verdict is in ...
and I won!
Avery McKenna Fellow
(to be called McKenna)
Now, I am a mind changer so there is always a chance I will change my mind in the next 8 weeks. But I don't think so.
Anyway, the name is finally on the list. Approved by Tim. And ready to GO!
Avery McKenna Fellow
(to be called McKenna)
Now, I am a mind changer so there is always a chance I will change my mind in the next 8 weeks. But I don't think so.
Anyway, the name is finally on the list. Approved by Tim. And ready to GO!
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Hot and Ready
Pizza!
So, since we got our cash flow back. We have been treating ourselves to things like pizza. Not often, but sometimes.
We tend to grab a Hot and Ready pizza from Little Cesear's for 5 bucks. It is a steal of a deal, and we really enjoy it. Warning: do not eat cold.
But the other day at the gym I got a flyer on my car that was actually helpful.
It said that Domino's has started a hot and ready extra large pizza for $5.99. It is supposed to be 30 percent bigger than the Little Cesear's option.
So we tried it, and here is what I thought:
Great Pizza. It is thinner than regular Domino's. It is, in fact, larger than the Little Cesear, but because it is so thin, it might actually be the same amount of pizza. But again, the thin was good. It almost tasted restaurant quality. We ate the whole thing ... easy.
It really was good. I think the sause might actually have been different. It tasted sweeter to me. But it is possible I just have lower expectations for a 6 dollar pizza, and so I enjoy it without thinking very hard.
The only thing missing from the experience was the Hot and Ready bread sticks that you can pick up at Little Cesear's. We love these bread sticks, and they make our little pizza last longer so someone can eat it for lunch the next day. But the bread sticks are HORRIBLE for you, so maybe not having them is a plus. You decide.
Yea, for Domino's and being big copy cats. That is the American way.
So, since we got our cash flow back. We have been treating ourselves to things like pizza. Not often, but sometimes.
We tend to grab a Hot and Ready pizza from Little Cesear's for 5 bucks. It is a steal of a deal, and we really enjoy it. Warning: do not eat cold.
But the other day at the gym I got a flyer on my car that was actually helpful.
It said that Domino's has started a hot and ready extra large pizza for $5.99. It is supposed to be 30 percent bigger than the Little Cesear's option.
So we tried it, and here is what I thought:
Great Pizza. It is thinner than regular Domino's. It is, in fact, larger than the Little Cesear, but because it is so thin, it might actually be the same amount of pizza. But again, the thin was good. It almost tasted restaurant quality. We ate the whole thing ... easy.
It really was good. I think the sause might actually have been different. It tasted sweeter to me. But it is possible I just have lower expectations for a 6 dollar pizza, and so I enjoy it without thinking very hard.
The only thing missing from the experience was the Hot and Ready bread sticks that you can pick up at Little Cesear's. We love these bread sticks, and they make our little pizza last longer so someone can eat it for lunch the next day. But the bread sticks are HORRIBLE for you, so maybe not having them is a plus. You decide.
Yea, for Domino's and being big copy cats. That is the American way.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Eye Ball
Tonight while Quinn and I were reading her favorite book, she stopped responding to me. I looked over at her, and she was very busy trying to touch her eyeball. She totally touched the white parts AND the blue parts.
She didn't laugh or cry. She just touched it for awhile and then stared at me.
Weird.
That's weird.
My kid's weird.
She didn't laugh or cry. She just touched it for awhile and then stared at me.
Weird.
That's weird.
My kid's weird.
"McKenna" Dreams
So, I am still really wanting to name my baby McKenna.
But last night I wanted to be a good wife, and I asked Tim what we wants to name our daughter. You know -- first thing that comes out of your mouth -- what is it? Go!
He said a name. It is a good one. It is on the list. It is one of our favorites. Then he combined it with another name I love.
I feel like maybe we will have to meet in the middle on this one. He's doing great at compromise. I guess I'll have to return the favor.
Damn.
But last night I wanted to be a good wife, and I asked Tim what we wants to name our daughter. You know -- first thing that comes out of your mouth -- what is it? Go!
He said a name. It is a good one. It is on the list. It is one of our favorites. Then he combined it with another name I love.
I feel like maybe we will have to meet in the middle on this one. He's doing great at compromise. I guess I'll have to return the favor.
Damn.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Eggs and Candy
So, as I said yesterday, I have not given up on completely controlling Quinn's Easter with all of my own childhood expectations!!
I continue with Egg Dying.
I was really scared of filling a bunch of cups with toxic water that looks like juice. I bought a kit, but then I found this better option:
It comes with 5 little q-tips that have egg paint in them. You snap the cap off one end and get messy in a much less, "MY JUICE!!" kind of way.
And next we move to Easter Morning. The Easter Bunny came, of course, and hid a basket in our house for Quinn. The basket was filled with lots of goodies -- sidewalk chalk, Elmo bubble bath, hair bows, a few eggs, a puzzle with spring animals and a bike riding bunny with an egg of jelly beans. Now, normally I am all about showing you the "before" shot of the beautiful basket. But the reality is more "fun."
Here is the story: the basket got ripped through in about 30 sections. The minute she figured out the jelly beans were candy, she was done with the rest of the goods and she proceeded to stuff her face as fast as possible. There was only time for these two shots before Easter Morning was over, and I had to grab the second half of the beans before they ALL ended up in her tummy or dripping down her chin.
Notice her complete contemplation in these shots and the huge quantity of crap in her mouth. I am going to make the stretch and say she is not thinking a whole lot about Jesus here. Oh well.
On a more positive note: I was the most proud mama ever when Quinn pointed to each animal on her new puzzle and said their names -- baby pig, mama pig, baby sheep, mama sheep. She had never said pig or sheep before. It is the little things, right?
And then you Mormons will appreciate this: During church the Bishop gave the Easter address. Quinn looked up while he talked and said, "Bi-shop, Bi-shop, Da Bi-shop." Very cute. She also enjoyed running from our pew to the stand to visit her Bob who is the Choir director. She also had a huge booger hanging from her nose for the whole time at church that we COULD NOT conquer. Dear me. Happy Easter.
I continue with Egg Dying.
I was really scared of filling a bunch of cups with toxic water that looks like juice. I bought a kit, but then I found this better option:
It comes with 5 little q-tips that have egg paint in them. You snap the cap off one end and get messy in a much less, "MY JUICE!!" kind of way.
And next we move to Easter Morning. The Easter Bunny came, of course, and hid a basket in our house for Quinn. The basket was filled with lots of goodies -- sidewalk chalk, Elmo bubble bath, hair bows, a few eggs, a puzzle with spring animals and a bike riding bunny with an egg of jelly beans. Now, normally I am all about showing you the "before" shot of the beautiful basket. But the reality is more "fun."
Here is the story: the basket got ripped through in about 30 sections. The minute she figured out the jelly beans were candy, she was done with the rest of the goods and she proceeded to stuff her face as fast as possible. There was only time for these two shots before Easter Morning was over, and I had to grab the second half of the beans before they ALL ended up in her tummy or dripping down her chin.
Notice her complete contemplation in these shots and the huge quantity of crap in her mouth. I am going to make the stretch and say she is not thinking a whole lot about Jesus here. Oh well.
On a more positive note: I was the most proud mama ever when Quinn pointed to each animal on her new puzzle and said their names -- baby pig, mama pig, baby sheep, mama sheep. She had never said pig or sheep before. It is the little things, right?
And then you Mormons will appreciate this: During church the Bishop gave the Easter address. Quinn looked up while he talked and said, "Bi-shop, Bi-shop, Da Bi-shop." Very cute. She also enjoyed running from our pew to the stand to visit her Bob who is the Choir director. She also had a huge booger hanging from her nose for the whole time at church that we COULD NOT conquer. Dear me. Happy Easter.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry.
Tonight it was time for bed. One minute it wasn't, and then ... we're done. Good night. I was at my limit. A little of her fault. A lot of mine. But I was done for the night.
When she finally got in bed, she didn't want to sing her songs. And I didn't want to say her prayers. I did it anyway. I told her to go first, and she prayed in her own way that it would be my turn, then her turn, then my turn, then her turn again. So, I realized she wanted me to choose the words for her tonight. So, I started:
Heavenly Father
She repeated me in her own way.
We're thankful for Quinn's milk and her dog-dog and bob-bob and her passey.
She repeated each item on the list.
We're sorry we didn't always get along today.
She said, "I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry." In her nicest voice.
I kept praying.
And she just listened for a while.
We both said Amen.
A few minutes after saying good night, I crept back into her room. She wasn't sleeping yet. I got a blanket and laid on the floor. We talked for a few minutes. I said I was sorry too ... again. She told me a story about her passey, and then I said good night again.
There are lots of reasons to pray. And you are never too young. Or too old.
(P.S. Welcome to my blog, Grandmother. I love you. You're still invite if you change your mind.)
When she finally got in bed, she didn't want to sing her songs. And I didn't want to say her prayers. I did it anyway. I told her to go first, and she prayed in her own way that it would be my turn, then her turn, then my turn, then her turn again. So, I realized she wanted me to choose the words for her tonight. So, I started:
Heavenly Father
She repeated me in her own way.
We're thankful for Quinn's milk and her dog-dog and bob-bob and her passey.
She repeated each item on the list.
We're sorry we didn't always get along today.
She said, "I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry." In her nicest voice.
I kept praying.
And she just listened for a while.
We both said Amen.
A few minutes after saying good night, I crept back into her room. She wasn't sleeping yet. I got a blanket and laid on the floor. We talked for a few minutes. I said I was sorry too ... again. She told me a story about her passey, and then I said good night again.
There are lots of reasons to pray. And you are never too young. Or too old.
(P.S. Welcome to my blog, Grandmother. I love you. You're still invite if you change your mind.)
Think before you Hunt
So, my parenting philosophy is that if my child is being a nightmare one of four things is probably happening. 1) She's tired. 2) She's sick. 3) She's hungry. 4) I did something wrong.
More often than not in the middle of a fit I am actually dealing with a combination of either tired, sick, hungry AND I did something wrong. My error is almost always on the table somewhere.
For example, if I keep her up two hours past bedtime, it is my fault if she can't sleep. I chose my friend or some event over her, and now I have to pay. So, I keep peace in my life by accepting this and limiting punishment and expectations after I have made these mistakes. It works. It seems to keep our life consistent and peaceful.
So, I think Easter Eggs hunts are a prime example of 4) I did something wrong.
Here is the situation. As a parent, we take them to an egg hunt because we want them to think it is SOO fun. We want them to mow down other children, get lots of eggs and then be really excited about what is inside each egg. If they do not do this, we are disappointed. (Oh, and they have to smile for the camera while they do it or it doesn't count, right?)
But on the other hand, we want them be excited about sharing the eggs with the children or siblings that didn't get any AND be excited about their candy.... but not eat it. They should also be expected, of course, to stay awake through nap time and then act nice and gracious about the whole thing. Also, they should keep their Easter clothes clean.
NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.
I dragged Quinn to her first egg hunt this morning. I was really excited. I even opened some plastic eggs last night so we could practice at home and so she would know what to do. But here's the situation: In the end, the egg hunt started at 10 a.m. and by 10:32 (even after stopping at a sale on the way home) we were already at home and in Time Out. Dear me, that all could not have been worth it.
THE RUNDOWN
We got there 45 minutes early to play at the park.
It started to rain.
It was cold.
I tried to wait the rain out, but it got worse.
We waited for friends instead of just going home.
Quinn was freezing and pissed by the time anyone else got to the event.
Finally we stood by the orange cones near the age 1 to 4 section and waited for the announcer to say, "Go!"
It started really, really raining.
We heard, "Go!" and ran to some eggs.
I had to help at first, but then she got the idea.
After about 90 sections, there were no eggs left.
We ran to the car passing several children who were just arriving and crying because they got no eggs.
We did not share.
We opened the first egg in the car.
It was a quarter-sized gum ball -- not going to happen.
I distracted her with the tiny chocolates from the next egg.
We drove toward home.
I stopped at a warehouse candy sale for NO GOOD REASON.
We got lots of treats for $10 for NO REASON AT ALL.
Quinn cried about not having anymore tiny chocolates.
I gave her a sucker at the store.
She wanted to be held.
We drove home.
I kind of yelled a little.
She cried about more candy.
She found the gum ball.
It started all over.
Her nose was running.
She started hitting me.
I opened another egg to distract her from the gum ball.
It was frozen chewy candy.
I gave her a bite as I almost lost a tooth.
She screamed for more.
There were lots more boogers.
There was more hitting.
At 10:32 a.m. I put her in her bed for a Time Out and hopefully a nap.
Now she's watching Elmo on the floor in her room.
I set her up for failure.
Oops.
I think we are done with egg hunts.
And there are no pictures.
IN SUMMARY
It seems that the best method for dealing with holidays is to do it ALL yourself so that you know what will work and not work for your child. Quinn doesn't eat a lot of candy, but she is starting to. It is not pretty. I feel like manors, habits and attitude go out the window the minute we deal with unexpected junk food. And at least if I am in charge, I can pick candies that won't choke her!
I should have stuck to my plan to just have one egg hunt at home with eggs filled with her favorite trail mix. Round Two: Tomorrow at 1 p.m.
By the way: I only remember one egg hunt away from my house from my whole life. I think I was either 2 or 3 years old. It is not a good memory. I am pretty sure my mom knew what she was doing.
Oh, and I don't think I have learned my lesson because after naps we are dying eggs -- a completely non-age appropriate activity filled with expectations. Sorry Quinn. I'm trying.
More often than not in the middle of a fit I am actually dealing with a combination of either tired, sick, hungry AND I did something wrong. My error is almost always on the table somewhere.
For example, if I keep her up two hours past bedtime, it is my fault if she can't sleep. I chose my friend or some event over her, and now I have to pay. So, I keep peace in my life by accepting this and limiting punishment and expectations after I have made these mistakes. It works. It seems to keep our life consistent and peaceful.
So, I think Easter Eggs hunts are a prime example of 4) I did something wrong.
Here is the situation. As a parent, we take them to an egg hunt because we want them to think it is SOO fun. We want them to mow down other children, get lots of eggs and then be really excited about what is inside each egg. If they do not do this, we are disappointed. (Oh, and they have to smile for the camera while they do it or it doesn't count, right?)
But on the other hand, we want them be excited about sharing the eggs with the children or siblings that didn't get any AND be excited about their candy.... but not eat it. They should also be expected, of course, to stay awake through nap time and then act nice and gracious about the whole thing. Also, they should keep their Easter clothes clean.
NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.
I dragged Quinn to her first egg hunt this morning. I was really excited. I even opened some plastic eggs last night so we could practice at home and so she would know what to do. But here's the situation: In the end, the egg hunt started at 10 a.m. and by 10:32 (even after stopping at a sale on the way home) we were already at home and in Time Out. Dear me, that all could not have been worth it.
THE RUNDOWN
We got there 45 minutes early to play at the park.
It started to rain.
It was cold.
I tried to wait the rain out, but it got worse.
We waited for friends instead of just going home.
Quinn was freezing and pissed by the time anyone else got to the event.
Finally we stood by the orange cones near the age 1 to 4 section and waited for the announcer to say, "Go!"
It started really, really raining.
We heard, "Go!" and ran to some eggs.
I had to help at first, but then she got the idea.
After about 90 sections, there were no eggs left.
We ran to the car passing several children who were just arriving and crying because they got no eggs.
We did not share.
We opened the first egg in the car.
It was a quarter-sized gum ball -- not going to happen.
I distracted her with the tiny chocolates from the next egg.
We drove toward home.
I stopped at a warehouse candy sale for NO GOOD REASON.
We got lots of treats for $10 for NO REASON AT ALL.
Quinn cried about not having anymore tiny chocolates.
I gave her a sucker at the store.
She wanted to be held.
We drove home.
I kind of yelled a little.
She cried about more candy.
She found the gum ball.
It started all over.
Her nose was running.
She started hitting me.
I opened another egg to distract her from the gum ball.
It was frozen chewy candy.
I gave her a bite as I almost lost a tooth.
She screamed for more.
There were lots more boogers.
There was more hitting.
At 10:32 a.m. I put her in her bed for a Time Out and hopefully a nap.
Now she's watching Elmo on the floor in her room.
I set her up for failure.
Oops.
I think we are done with egg hunts.
And there are no pictures.
IN SUMMARY
It seems that the best method for dealing with holidays is to do it ALL yourself so that you know what will work and not work for your child. Quinn doesn't eat a lot of candy, but she is starting to. It is not pretty. I feel like manors, habits and attitude go out the window the minute we deal with unexpected junk food. And at least if I am in charge, I can pick candies that won't choke her!
I should have stuck to my plan to just have one egg hunt at home with eggs filled with her favorite trail mix. Round Two: Tomorrow at 1 p.m.
By the way: I only remember one egg hunt away from my house from my whole life. I think I was either 2 or 3 years old. It is not a good memory. I am pretty sure my mom knew what she was doing.
Oh, and I don't think I have learned my lesson because after naps we are dying eggs -- a completely non-age appropriate activity filled with expectations. Sorry Quinn. I'm trying.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
McKenna Update
31 weeks today!! Which means I only have 9 weeks today. For some reason that is way for doable for me than 10 weeks. Can't wait to meet her and a hold her and kiss her and name her... because we actually have not decided.
I felt great this weekend. Maybe it was because I had so much help with Quinn that I didn't over do it as much. Anyway, I was not so constantly aware of pregnancy while we were away.
However, right this minute. McKenna is kicking like crazy. I can barely breathe. I think she is doing the "long stretch" because I can feel her in my diaphragm AND my bladder at the same time. yikes. I guess that is just the story of 31 weeks.
I felt great this weekend. Maybe it was because I had so much help with Quinn that I didn't over do it as much. Anyway, I was not so constantly aware of pregnancy while we were away.
However, right this minute. McKenna is kicking like crazy. I can barely breathe. I think she is doing the "long stretch" because I can feel her in my diaphragm AND my bladder at the same time. yikes. I guess that is just the story of 31 weeks.
Deep thoughts from the Nurse
Yes, I am the nurse today. Quinn is sick, and I have to stay home from work. She woke up yesterday with better lungs but a CRAZY fever. Of course, yesterday was our travel day to come home from California, so that was interesting. She slept like crazy ... in my arms, on the floor, in chairs, in her airplane seat, laying down, sitting up, anyway she could. She couldn't get enough. The poor thing was SOOO hot, but she wanted to be all cuddled in her blankets. Her eyes were watery and puffy. She was not happy about it.
But she was very happy to come home. So here we are.
This morning the fever was way better, but I still worry about her lungs as always. I'll just have to watch her today.
But since she feels better today, she has a lot to say. This morning she told me all about Grammy's house. She told me that she fed Mischa (the dog) some vitamins with Grammy. Apparently this was the highlight of the trip for her (and the last thing she did before the fever set in) because she mentions it all the time. She also talks about Mischa's poo-poo, Mischa's sleeping, and several other K-9 observations from the weekend.
Also, since my mom loves to "Cheers" with a beverage, Quinn has been cheers-ing me all morning, and it is only 8 a.m.
Other sidenotes and thoughts:
I love Old Navy! Have I mentioned that before? This weekend I went there to get a gift for my cousin Shannon and her little unborn baby girl. I found the cutest sweatsuit at full price AND then about 5 items for my McKenna at about $2 each. Add that to the 10% sales tax in California, and I still only spent $38. This is why I am so loyal. Oh, Old Navy, I love you so.
I also love my mom and my sister. I had such a wonderful time with them this weekend. One afternoon my sister and I got to just lay on the grass outside and watch our girls play. We talked about sister stuff (you know, stuff you don't say out loud to anyone else) and laughed our heads off. Then on Sunday night, the power was out at my mom's house. We were going to have the neighbor come set up the generator because my dad was out of town, but we ended up ordering Pizza, eating it by candle light, and talking and laughing all night. I can't remember what was so funny. But I think we hit every topic from friends and family to shopping and farting AND of course, Motherhood, which is always good for a laugh.
I also love my brother's new house. Chad and Annie just rented a house in Palos Verdes with a beautiful ocean view. It honestly feels like a luxurious hotel suite to me. I love it. Baby Vincent is a lucky duck. All the adults keep talking about about how the house, "needs so much work...." but I'd take it as it. It's amazing.
Have a great day! If you need us, we will be here getting better...
Or at Kohler's ... because they have great sales this week (FYI)
But she was very happy to come home. So here we are.
This morning the fever was way better, but I still worry about her lungs as always. I'll just have to watch her today.
But since she feels better today, she has a lot to say. This morning she told me all about Grammy's house. She told me that she fed Mischa (the dog) some vitamins with Grammy. Apparently this was the highlight of the trip for her (and the last thing she did before the fever set in) because she mentions it all the time. She also talks about Mischa's poo-poo, Mischa's sleeping, and several other K-9 observations from the weekend.
Also, since my mom loves to "Cheers" with a beverage, Quinn has been cheers-ing me all morning, and it is only 8 a.m.
Other sidenotes and thoughts:
I love Old Navy! Have I mentioned that before? This weekend I went there to get a gift for my cousin Shannon and her little unborn baby girl. I found the cutest sweatsuit at full price AND then about 5 items for my McKenna at about $2 each. Add that to the 10% sales tax in California, and I still only spent $38. This is why I am so loyal. Oh, Old Navy, I love you so.
I also love my mom and my sister. I had such a wonderful time with them this weekend. One afternoon my sister and I got to just lay on the grass outside and watch our girls play. We talked about sister stuff (you know, stuff you don't say out loud to anyone else) and laughed our heads off. Then on Sunday night, the power was out at my mom's house. We were going to have the neighbor come set up the generator because my dad was out of town, but we ended up ordering Pizza, eating it by candle light, and talking and laughing all night. I can't remember what was so funny. But I think we hit every topic from friends and family to shopping and farting AND of course, Motherhood, which is always good for a laugh.
I also love my brother's new house. Chad and Annie just rented a house in Palos Verdes with a beautiful ocean view. It honestly feels like a luxurious hotel suite to me. I love it. Baby Vincent is a lucky duck. All the adults keep talking about about how the house, "needs so much work...." but I'd take it as it. It's amazing.
Have a great day! If you need us, we will be here getting better...
Or at Kohler's ... because they have great sales this week (FYI)
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Cough, Cough
This morning I lay in bed listening to Quinn call for her Grammy to get her our of bed. I wasn't tired anymore, but I wanted to give Grammy and Quinn some time together since we only have one more morning here in LA before we head home and wait for McKenna to come.
And then I heard it, "Cough, Cough."
I knew Grammy would panic. And I panicked too.
Remember last year when Quinn suddenly found herself in the Hospital with croup and wheezing? It was too close. I jumped out of bed. I could tell by the look on my mom's face, she was glad I heard it so she wouldn't have to describe it to me or bare bad news. I held Quinn while she got her breath back. She was wheezing for sure. Poor thing.
Grammy and I jumped into "mom" mode and started planning, "It's Sunday. What's open? What Doctors do we know? What time does Urgent Care open? Do they see kids? How long should we wait." And on and on. Remember that last time Quinn jumped from zero to 60 in about 3 hours, and neither grammy or I wanted to see that again. And so we stood there and planned.
Well, it looks like she is doing Ok. She is not breathing as loudly as she did this morning. But I am dreading her waking up from her nap because that is when it all started last time. After a nap. But I think she'll be fine.
It is just interesting how people get so conditioned to react in times like that. And if anyone is good at getting the job done and thinking fast in a crisis it is MY mom. I think I get it from her in some cases. Other times, though, I just stand there stunned, and I guess I just wait for the spirit to move me like it did last time when all I remember is pulling Quinn in Grandpa John's wagon last year and then next thing I knew we were racing to the ER after I felt a strong prompting to GO! I don't even know how we got in the car or down the street.
As much as I hate when my little one is sick, there is something about the feeling a Mama gets to sooth and fix that is really bonding. Caring for someone else is so beautiful. It's a quiet thing, and it makes all the difference in the world.
Have I ever mentioned that I had the most amazing mom ever. Now, I know a lot of people think their mom rocks the house. But my sister and I are in agreement that our mom was the best. She raised us with patience and kindness, communication and example, hard work and love and the list goes on and on.
My mom and I went to a workout class together on Friday morning. The last 20 minutes of the class was yoga. Since I was in the middle of the room, the teacher turned everyone's focus to me and my growing baby and asked them to think and remember the great love their mothers had for them and try to give themselves that much love in the present moment. It was cool to be there lying down as a mother with a baby inside me with my own mother just two feet away. The sensation was almost too much to bare. Lots of Love. So much Love. Puddles of Love.
I think that is what I love most about motherhood. Yeah, we all have our, "I am going to ring your neck" moments (like yesterday when I was neatly wrapping a baby gift for a shower and Quinn ripped it open just as I was finishing.) But for the most part there is so much peace in motherhood even within those moments when the "cough, cough" makes us jump a mile high. It really is in us to succeed at this.
We are women. We are -- with in our souls -- mothers at every stage of the game -- before, during and forever after our babies are babies.
And then I heard it, "Cough, Cough."
I knew Grammy would panic. And I panicked too.
Remember last year when Quinn suddenly found herself in the Hospital with croup and wheezing? It was too close. I jumped out of bed. I could tell by the look on my mom's face, she was glad I heard it so she wouldn't have to describe it to me or bare bad news. I held Quinn while she got her breath back. She was wheezing for sure. Poor thing.
Grammy and I jumped into "mom" mode and started planning, "It's Sunday. What's open? What Doctors do we know? What time does Urgent Care open? Do they see kids? How long should we wait." And on and on. Remember that last time Quinn jumped from zero to 60 in about 3 hours, and neither grammy or I wanted to see that again. And so we stood there and planned.
Well, it looks like she is doing Ok. She is not breathing as loudly as she did this morning. But I am dreading her waking up from her nap because that is when it all started last time. After a nap. But I think she'll be fine.
It is just interesting how people get so conditioned to react in times like that. And if anyone is good at getting the job done and thinking fast in a crisis it is MY mom. I think I get it from her in some cases. Other times, though, I just stand there stunned, and I guess I just wait for the spirit to move me like it did last time when all I remember is pulling Quinn in Grandpa John's wagon last year and then next thing I knew we were racing to the ER after I felt a strong prompting to GO! I don't even know how we got in the car or down the street.
As much as I hate when my little one is sick, there is something about the feeling a Mama gets to sooth and fix that is really bonding. Caring for someone else is so beautiful. It's a quiet thing, and it makes all the difference in the world.
Have I ever mentioned that I had the most amazing mom ever. Now, I know a lot of people think their mom rocks the house. But my sister and I are in agreement that our mom was the best. She raised us with patience and kindness, communication and example, hard work and love and the list goes on and on.
My mom and I went to a workout class together on Friday morning. The last 20 minutes of the class was yoga. Since I was in the middle of the room, the teacher turned everyone's focus to me and my growing baby and asked them to think and remember the great love their mothers had for them and try to give themselves that much love in the present moment. It was cool to be there lying down as a mother with a baby inside me with my own mother just two feet away. The sensation was almost too much to bare. Lots of Love. So much Love. Puddles of Love.
I think that is what I love most about motherhood. Yeah, we all have our, "I am going to ring your neck" moments (like yesterday when I was neatly wrapping a baby gift for a shower and Quinn ripped it open just as I was finishing.) But for the most part there is so much peace in motherhood even within those moments when the "cough, cough" makes us jump a mile high. It really is in us to succeed at this.
We are women. We are -- with in our souls -- mothers at every stage of the game -- before, during and forever after our babies are babies.
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