Is This Karma????

It's been a long time since my last update.

We made the move from our house to a "town house" if you'd call it that.  But I'll touch more on that later.  I think that the moving process itself can make or break a marriage.  And we survived, but since we thought it was so much we decided to do it again in a couple of months.  Within the process I learned I'm more of a "delegator" and Jason is more a "doer", but be that as it may we managed to get most of our belongings into their respective locations.... barely.

We desperately needed interim housing that would accommodate our two dogs and let us rent month to month.  Those two factors really narrowed down our rental options.  We found an apartment that we thought would be fine, but by the time we committed to it they had already leased it.  They did say they would have a townhouse available at another one of their properties but we wouldn't be able to see it until the current renters moved out which would be AFTER we closed on our house.  We didn't have much of a choice so we put the deposit down and crossed our fingers.

We knew we would need to put a lot of stuff in storage, so were able to get a head start on that.  We got the last available of the biggest size they had.  We got the keys to our townhouse on a Friday.  The same day we needed to be out of the old house. I left work at noon and met Jason at the new place.  He was waiting at the front door with raised eyebrows.  I should have known then that would mark the start of the longest three months of my life.

I went inside and looked around.  At first I thought "holy crap, where are we gonna put all of our stuff?!" but then I thought "I can make this work for a short time" but then that changed to "I hate this place!!!!!!"

After that stunning review, we immediately called and rented ANOTHER storage building.  We had to move the rest of our stuff from the old house to storage and the townhouse.  But on top of that, we had to move boxes that had already been stored into another building so we could get all of our furniture into one and boxes in another one.

Upon further investigation of our new temporary home, it became more and more clear of how horrible it would turn out to be.  It was built in 1977.  There are no ceiling fans or light fixtures in any of the bedrooms or the living room.  The upstairs in like an inferno.  I had a little mini fan that I set on the floor in our bedroom.  It broke the second day we were there.  Luckily I made it to Dollar General right before they closed to buy another one.... which they had to find since they had just moved them since the weather was getting cooler.

There is one shower.  The drain clogs up EVERY.SINGLE.TIME I was my hair.  It reminds of the college dorm showers.  Standing ankle deep in dirty water.  The second day we were there I started one of the MANY loads of laundry that I had to do.  During the draining of water the part that goes into the wall was clogged and the water backed up and flooded the whole back part of the place.  The wall and sheet rock is all soggy and coming apart.  The maintenance people said they would repair the actual wall after we moved out since we don't really care what it looks like.

All of our furniture is in storage except the necessities.  We have our refrigerator here, but as luck would have it, it doesn't fit between the wall and the counter top, so it's plugged in and pulled out into the middle of the kitchen.  There is a one person walk way between it and the kitchen table that is pushed up against the wall.  And our couch blocks off half of the walk way into the kitchen.  Jason and I are sleeping butt cheek to butt cheek in a full sized bed.... which is TONS of fun since it's so damn hot in there!

All of our neighbors are in college.  Translation: Loud and Obnoxious.  The second night we were here, I was laying on the couch holding Elise while she was sleeping.  It was about 11pm when right outside our front door I heard some jackhole revving up his truck that had excruciatingly loud exhaust.  I looked at Jason....

"I don't think I've introduced myself to the neighbors.  Maybe I should do that now."
"Now???"
"Yeah, now.  As the neighbor that LIKES IT QUIET!"
"That's a good way to get your truck keyed."
"Shit."

I think I could deal with some of these things if this place was actually clean and didn't smell like Indian Food.  The stove didn't work when I tried to boil water and my dogs HATE it.  They keep trying to run out the door and jump back in the truck.  I can only imagine what else can happen.

Our contract close date on the new house is Jan. 21st.  I'm hoping that it's done BEFORE then... and BEFORE Christmas would be even better!

The Only Thing That Changes is EVERYTHING

It has been so long since I've even had any kind of desire to sit down and write something... let alone had the spare time to do it.  My week days pretty much all run together.  I don't know if I even have the brain capacity to regurgitate the events of the last few months since I went back to work.

Of course Elise is chatting up a storm.  She says the cutest things.  Her Grandpa recently taught her to "bump knucks."  Unfortunately with the fun, comes the bad fits... and she can pitch some good ones!  Pretty much the most frustrating thing she does is throw stuff.  When she gets mad, she rips her paci out of her mouth and launches it.  Then of course she wants one of us to pick it up.  But, we're working through it.

Two weeks ago I had gall bladder surgery. After having a few tests run my doctor sent me to a surgeon to have the nuclear test confirmed that it would need to come out.  He explained to me that one of the injections they gave me makes my stomach/gall bladder think I just ate a whole pizza.  It's supposed to immediately make the gall bladder start contracting.  He told me that a normal person's gall bladder functions at 80-100%.  Anything below 30% is considered to be abnormal.  Mine was 0.... ZERO functioning.  I had the surgery August 25th.  The first few days afterwards were a little rough, but I was back at work the following Monday.... I'm pretty hardcore like that.

Probably the biggest change going on right now is that we are moving.  Our house has been for sale for a while now.  We need more space and with the interest rates as low as they are, we won't have another opportunity like this to upgrade to something bigger and still affordable.

We spent valuable hours, brain power, arguing... you name it- it happened when we first started this whole process.  I believe it now when people say building a house is one of the hardest things a married couple can do.... I think we quite possibly could have gotten a divorce over the exterior paint color.  The day it came down to picking that out, Jason and I were going back and forth about it and I was laying in our bed trying to take a nap, but Jason kept on and on about it.  I evidently didn't think long enough before I made my decision between two different shades of brown, so Jason thought I didn't care enough about it....We exchanged words and then I finally jumped out of the bed, went outside in my T-shirt barefooted to the front yard, and literally ripped the For Sale sign out of the yard like The Incredible Hulk....  It was intense.  I put it in the garage and said "There!!!!  Now we won't have to worry about it!!!!!"

Anyway!!!  We had settled on a builder, had the plans, house was on the market, things were heading the right direction..... we thought.  After we got jacked around by the builder one too many times, my calm and patient husband LOST.HIS.SHIZ. and came unhinged on the builder.  After it was all said and done, we got our money back, we have a notarized contract release form that Jason made the builder meet him at City Hall to have signed, loss of sleep, no new house, but a house still on the market and a lot of time that I'll never get back.

We explained the situation to our realtor and he asked us if we'd consider starting the building process again in a new part of town.  We went through our options and met another building company and starting working up some plans.  A few lousy offers trickled in here and there, but nothing to write home about.  Then a friend of Jason's expressed some interest in buying it.  He came and looked at it 3 times, and then put an offer in through the real estate agent.  We have accepted and are anticipating a closing date of Sept. 30.... however, Jason and I have not committed to that close date yet because we currently have no where to go in the mean time.  It will take about 120 days for our new house to be built, so we'll need a place to rent month to month that will let us have our big dogs.  We'll probably have to put quite a bit of stuff in storage, too.

Our plans on the new home are almost complete.  We are really excited about it.  It's going to be in a new development just outside of town.  It's all brand new homes in an 8 phase subdivision that's currently in phase 1.  The lots are big and the homes are beautiful.  All we need to nail down is where we will live in the mean time....  and it looks like moving in the winter too.  Which I can say doesn't thrill me one bit.

P.S.  With all of the devastating wild fires happening all across this state, I don't know what more is going to have to burn until Obama doesn't reject Texas' request for wildfire disaster declaration again!!!

I Can Not Make This Up!

I want to take you through a litte scene that I was involved in one afternoon at work.  But, before I get into the full blown story I need to provide you with a little background info.  First of all, there is a warehouse/shop attached to our office building.  It houses all of our valves and various equipment that we keep in inventory as well as the forklift and pick-up.  Every morning and evening at open and close, the "shop truck" has to be pulled in and out of the warehouse/shop.  It kinda resembles this one:

Except that the spare tire is mounted on top of the cab and it sits a little higher off the gound.  It's a diesel and a standard.  We have a part time Logistics/Warehouse guy that manages the warehouse, runs the forklift and pulls the truck in and out daily.  Well I don't know exactly when it was delegated to me, but I was informed I'd be needing to pull the shop truck out in the mornings and back inside before closing.

HOLD THE PHONE!  That's a STANDARD.  I did not officially take driver's ed (just the at home version) and no where in my training was there anything called a clutch.

Now, fortunately not all is lost.  I have had some exposure to operating a standard and understanding the concept of "ease off the clutch," but not enough to just go whipping it in and out of a WAREHOUSE.  Maybe a pasture.

So I needed to find a willing participant to teach me how to drive the shop truck.  Of everyone in our office (which is between 6-10 people given the day), there were only 2 guys that I deemed acceptable teachers.  One of which is Kevin.  Our outside salesman.  He told me when he got back to the office we could practice out on the back roads behind the office for a while before we closed.

Another factor to note is that our building is made of tin?  So we have the tin/metal building and shop, then just a tin/metal fence around the back of the property with one of those wide swinging tin gates.  The shop truck is usually parked just outside of the overhead shop door in front of the swinging gate.  That's where it was located when I took my first driving lesson.

I got the keys, unlocked it and jumped in.  There was no keyless entry, so I literally had to reach over and physically unlock Kevin's door.  It's a single cab with a bench seat.  The middle seat belt is not the standard lap belt, it's a shoulder seat belt just like the driver and passengers seat belts.  I used my left hand, reached over my right shoulder and pulled the seat belt across me. 

"Umm.  Kevin?  I don't have a plug for my seat belt."
"What do you mean you don't have a plug?"
"I don't have anywhere to click my seat belt into... seriously!  There's NOTHING there!"
"Well what do you mean?  Did Rudy cut it off or something?"
"I don't freakin know, all I know is that it's not there."

About that time I jump out of the truck to see if I can somehow find the missing receptor for the seat belt to plug into.

"I seriously don't have one, Kevin!"
"Um, why are you trying to put on that seat belt?  Your seat belt is on YOUR left side."
"Ohhhh....."

Ok, back in the truck with the correct seat belt on.

"Ok, now push in the clutch and turn it on.  You're in 1st gear.  Keep your foot on the clutch."

Done.

"You look like you're really far from the steering wheel and pedals, do we need to scoot the seat up for you?"

"Yeah, that would probably help."

Kevin reached down under his seat for the lever.

"The lever is on your side.  So you'll have to pull it up and we'll have to both scoot forward at the same time."  (Remember it's a bench seat.)

I have my foot on the clutch, one hand on the lever underneath seat, and the other hand on the steering wheel. 

"Ok, ready, go"

I pull the lever and we both try to scoot forward in unison.  Something evidently wasn't jiving.  We either weren't moving simultaneously or I wasn't moving forward at all.  Then it started to seem like everytime we would scoot ourselves forward in the seat something would push us back.  Evidently as we were scooting back and forth, my foot was going back and forth on the clutch too.

It was hard to tell that the truck was moving forward because we were scooting back and forth and back and forth in the seat.  We would go forward, the truck went forward, we would go back and the truck was going... well I don't know where all I know is it was going!  And then it was all too late...

"Push in on the clutch!  Clutch! Clutch!"

Bang....

I drove the truck into the tin gate.  That was latched shut.  And padlocked.  Well after I hit it, it wasn't either of the two.  Kevin being the good guy that he is jumped out as fast as he could to try to get it shut back.

"We've gotta get it shut before somebody comes out here and asks what the hell that noise was!!!!" 

Eventually after some finagling, the gate was able to be closed and locked again.  But it has a few dints in it.  And my bosses haven't asked about it, so maybe they haven't noticed.  And the truck is fine.

The rest of my driving training went perfectly.  I didn't kill it once and I mastered all of the shifting.

The following morning I was on my way out to the shop to back the shop truck out when I stopped by our service guy's desk.  He was my other option for a driving instructor.

"Did Kevin tell you he helped me learn to drive the shop truck yesterday?"  I said so proudly and cheerfully.

"Yeah.  I heard you did a bang up job."

"Oh my god, Jarrod! You're not gonna tell anyone are you?  What if someone asks you about it?  What are you gonna say?"

::paranoid???::

"I'm sure Kevin, Rudy, or I will take the heat for it so don't worry."

Yeah................  Never gonna live that down.

She wore an itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini...

HIIIIIIII!

Sick Baby

A couple of weekends ago Elise started feeling bad and running a fever.  On Monday morning she woke up and was running a temp of 102.  I texted my bosses and told them I'd be in later that morning because I needed to take Elise to the doctor.  After a minor verbal argument with the lady on the phone at the doctor's office, we were there waiting to be seen.  The nurse took her temperature and it was 103.1 in spite of the fact that I had given her Tylenol earlier to bring the fever down.  The nurse brought in a dose of Motrin for Elise to take to try to bring the fever down.  She just laid her head on my chest and tried to sleep.  Evidently they were concerned about her high temperature because the nurse came back in with wet rags and told me to put them on Elise's head and make sure to get her hair wet and take some of her clothes off.

Dr. Walsh came in a looked her.  She had severe double ear infections.  The doctor said that if those were her ears she'd be in a lot of pain.  We got the prescription and I took her home for Jason to keep her for the rest of the day.  She slept a lot.  Didn't eat much.  When I came home from work, I noticed that she had a few spots on her back.  I asked Jason what they were and he didn't think anything of it.  Then I lifted up her shirt and her whole torso was covered in them.  So, I drove up to the pharmacy so that I could have the pharmacist look at her to see if it was an allergic reaction.  From the time it took for us to drive to and from the pharmacy, Elise's face and legs were covered in the spots.

I called the doctor's office and got the answering service.  The nurse finally called me back.  I explained to her the situation and she said I shouldn't give Elise anymore of the antibiotic and a different one would have to be called in the following morning.  We just needed to give her Benadryll for the reaction and Tylenol for the fever.  It wasn't even 3 minutes later, the nurse called me back again and said that Dr. Walsh wanted to see Elise in her office first thing the next morning.

Jason and I took her back up there Tuesday morning.  Her fever had broke the night before.  I had gone into check on her when she was sleeping and she was covered in sweat and her hair was all wet.  I explained that to her doctor.  It turns out that she had Roseola.  It's a virus like baby Measles.  Dr. Walsh figured that she had the virus first which weakened her immune system and caused the double ear infections.  If she had been a younger baby she would have had to be hospitalized.

She stayed at home with Jason Monday through Thursday.  By Friday she was back to her cheery self and free of her rash.  It was a grueling week of running to and from downtown Amarillo and the pharmacy, working, and having a sick baby.

Maybe NOT "The Best Days Of My Life"

Holy Crap!  My new life as a full time working mom is overwhelming and often times a struggle.

For 5 days, I get up at around 6:30ish, get myself in the shower, get ready for work.  IF Jason is home, he helps get Elise dressed (I fix her hair, due his lack of styling skills...unless I'm running behind), and gets her cups and lunch in her bag.  Maybe every other morning, we persevere through one (or two) of her tantrums before even leaving the driveway.

If he's not home (which was the case several mornings due to fires), I do all of the above, battle with her to get her in her car seat to head to daycare while breaking into a sweat before leaving the driveway.

After daycare drop off, I head to work.  There, I put in an 8 hour work day.  Run from work to the daycare and pick up Elise.

We recently switched to taking Elise to The Christian Learning Center at the Baptist church here in town since her previous sitter was unable to keep her through the summer.  The church is within walking distance from the fire station so Jason is able to walk over and pick her up.  I still have to drive to and from there for pick ups and drop offs since he drives a city vehicle and as of now cannot have a car seat in it.  So that's a little inconvenient, but it is what it is.

Once we get home I get Elise unloaded and get her bag in the house to unpack, and then attempt to change my clothes.  About that same time, round 1 of the tantrums start.  Between the few hours that we get home and she goes to bed I make her dinner, attempt to feed her, get her a bath, and get her ready for bed.  We typically experience tantrums through the majority of that.  When I say tantrums.... I mean SCREAMING, kicking, hitting, throwing, and laying on the floor face down refusing to get up.  And DON'T even think about picking her because she stiffens up so that it's next to impossible to get a secure hold on her.

I do not cook dinner for me and Jason.  That's at the bottom of the priority list.  My energy and patience is pretty much exhausted from working all day and trying not to have a complete melt down from the unpleasant home environment I suffer through for several hours 5 days a week.  Some nights, cereal at 9pm is as good as it gets.

If Jason is home he'll make her cups and get her lunch for the following day.  If not, after she goes to bed I use the last bit of energy I have to drag my ass off the couch and prepare juice and milk cups, bag up chicken nuggets, make sure there's extra clothes, snacks, and her blanket in her bag.  Then sometimes, I look in the laundry room at the overflowing laundry basket and cuss at it...  then I wonder what it would cost to drop all that crap off at the cleaners?

After DAYS go by of this, I realize why people drink.  I went to the beer store two days in a row to get more wine.  Obviously alcohol is not the solution and I try to ask myself  "what would Jesus do?"  But, isn't there wine and bread at communion?  Yep...  So then the world is right again.

I have been wracking my brain trying to figure where all of Elise's intense emotions stem from.  Approaching the terrible two's?  Lack of full time attention from me?  Lack of sufficient rest?  All of the above?

How in God's name do people do this with more than one child?  They must never sleep.

I have been trying to make a personal goal of being IN BED between 9pm and 9:30pm.  But, more often times than not, I climb into bed and glance at the clock.  Freaking 10:30pm!!  What the hell happened in the last hour and a half that prevented me from getting in bed?  Sitting on the couch in a coma looking for my sanity?  Probably.

I have just spent all of this time complaining which I don't like.  I like my job, I feel comfortable about Elise being at the church during the day, but I wish the few hours I get to spend with her in the evening would be less painful and more pleasant for all of us.

And don't even get me started on the drama with selling our house and getting the new one built, or else this blog will turn into a major suckfest and no one will read it.  But, I'm surviving... I'm still alive.  Today anyway.

Week 1 of Working Momma

I started my new job on Tuesday as an inside sales rep for a local company that sells valves, control panels, actuators, etc. 

I spent the previous Monday confirming child care arrangements for Elise.  She's going to stay with the sitter she's stayed with on occasion until the end of May.  She's going to the Baptist church's summer program until the middle of August, and then back to the sitter.

The night before my big day, I wanted to get all of mine and Elise's stuff sorted out.  I had paperwork and books I needed to take to the office, and she needed clothes, diapers, wipes, drinks, snacks, lunch, and blankets packed in her bag.  I had to make a Wal-Mart run to pick up last minute items.  I was counting on Jason to be home to help with that, dinner, cleaning up, bath and bed time.  Unfortunately, that was not the case.  I started out the night before my first day of work in stress overload mode.  Trying to tackle all of those things solo and get myself mentally prepared to get back into working mode.  I finally had dinner at 9:30pm and went to bed.

Day 1: Tuesday went pretty well.  Elise didn't even look back when I dropped her off and I managed to hold back any tears.  She did well throughout the day, just really tired since being way off her schedule.  I picked her up from the sitter's and headed home.  I left her with Jason so that I could run to the grocery store.  After some grocery shopping, I headed home and got started cooking dinner for all of us.  Well, as luck would have it... Jason's pager went off.  And...  I totally lost my shiz. 

I mean imagine this for one minute:  The night before getting ready for my first day at work without any support.  Going to work, going grocery shopping, cooking dinner, and then someone saying they are leaving right in the middle of cooking dinner, only to be left to clean up, do bath time, and bed time all alone again.  Seriously.  Throw me a freakin bone.  It wouldn't have been a big deal if I wasn't just starting a brand new job and trying to mentally and physically deal with that and leaving Elise at a sitter's.  More packing her bag, coordinating lunch and snacks, etc.

So I really wouldn't call my first day back in the work scene a HUGE success. 

Day 2:  Wednesday.  Back to the sitter's, back to work, back to the sitter's.  Obviously every Wednesday Jason has drill at the fire station until pretty late at night.  We crossed paths at home briefly.  He did get her drink cups made for the next day before he left.  Elise didn't hardly eat anything for dinner.  Then, I spent the next 2 and half hours trying to determine WHY my sweet little child was throwing tantrums.  Screaming, throwing stuff, a screaming fit all through bath time.  So now let's add guilt on top of the list of emotions.  Stress, frustration, and guilt.  Those are all super positive.  I was guilty that she felt so upset because she wasn't getting the attention from me she was used to.  I was guilty because I had interrupted her routine.  But, even worse than that, is that I felt overwhelming guilt for begging for it to be her bed time.  It had only been 2 days, but it felt like a week.  All of those things going on had been exhausting for me, and then frustrating that I didn't have my sweet happy baby to play with when I got home.  I had a completely different child.  And how could I not want to make that short amount of time be pleasant and want it to last?  Instead I wanted her to go to sleep, I wanted to eat dinner, and try to desensitize and prepare for ANOTHER day.  She went to sleep, I finally ate dinner around 9pm, and fell asleep before Jason got home.  That's pretty rare.  I usually stay up until he gets home and wake up if the front door opens.  I was so worn out that I didn't even wake up when he came home, made something to eat, and took a shower.

Day 3:  Thursday.  Back to the sitter's for drop off.  But, this time Elise didn't want me to leave.  She clung to my legs and went "uh uh uh."  I felt so bad.  Darcy (sitter) picked her up and carried her off to distract her so I could sneak out the door.  After work, I picked her up and headed back home to try again.  Now Jason was able to witness the 2 hour long tantrums.  Laying on the floor, throwing stuff, screaming....  Bath time was a battle.  More screaming and flailing.  I finally got her to lay in my arms on the couch and fall asleep.  Another night of relief for bed time.  That's horrible.  I don't see her all day and then when I get home with her, I'm relieved for her to go to sleep.

Day 4:  Friday.  Jason was off and stayed home with Elise.  He called me a little before lunch and told me she had been running a fever.  When he took it, it was 102.  He said she'd been sleeping off and on, but when she was awake she was really fussy.  She had Tylenol, but that didn't bring it down a whole lot.  After work, when I got home she felt really warm so I took her rectal temp.  It was 102.7.  I called the answering service for our pediatrician.  The on call nurse called me back told me to alternate Motrin and Tylenol and gave me the accurate doses.  Elise was feeling really bad, she just laid her head on my chest and cried until she fell asleep.  After a couple of doses of meds, her mood had drastically improved.  I was able to get her a bath, but I knew she still wasn't well because she had chills and was shivering.  She laid on the couch with me and fell asleep.

It has been a grueling week.  Lots of emotions, and new routines.  I knew it would be hard, but I also know it will get better.  At least I can hope it will.  I don't even want to think about July... Jason is planning on being gone for an entire week.  I don't know if I'll be able to survive....  I barely made it through 2-3 days without any help.

The Changes Are A'Comin

Aside from the fact that we are in the process of selling our house and starting the building process on another, on Friday I accepted a job offer.  A full-time Monday through Friday 8-5 job.  Things are about to get crazy around here for a bit.  Schedules are going to change, and I'm going to learn to cope without being with my child all day, everyday.  With that being said, the positive thing is that our income is almost going to be doubled.

I'm excited about this new venture, nervous, but also hopeful.  I want to feel successful and feel like I'm making a contribution to our family.  I know we will all be less financially stressed, but I'll be emotionally stressed for a while.  I'll be learning a lot of new things for the job while trying not to think about my baby all day.  I know Elise needs some interaction with other kids, and she'll develop some vital social skills.

We've already run into a few bumps in the road from the time I accepted the offer.  My babysitter that I was counting on will only be able to keep Elise until the end of May and is taking the summer off.  She'll then be able to keep her once school starts back up.  I've been searching my mind for ideas for the rest of the summer.  I've come up with a few, but haven't confirmed anything.  I was asked to start my new job tomorrow.  Three days after I accepted it.  I've taken my required drug test, filled out my paperwork, and started working on my safety videos.

My new boss sensed in my email to her that I was feeling the pressure to get up there ASAP and the stress of trying to rearrange child care.  She called me Friday night at 10:30pm to reassure me that I could take all the time I needed to so that I would feel comfortable and less stressed when I start.  She told me she realized my family is my number one priority and this was going to bring on big changes.  I told her I felt so relieved after she called and really appreciated her call and concern.

Once things are more calmed down and set in stone, I'll be able to elaborate more on our new situation.  I'm excited, proud, nervous, stressed and apprehensive all at the same time, but soon things will fall into place.

This Is How We Do Dinner

Yeah.  That's right.  We are that classy.  My daughter and I are challenging each other to a match of sticking out our tongues across the dinner table.  Elise, by the way, has a freakishly long tongue.  She laughs with excitement while I continue to make those awful sounds resembling those of mentally ill person.  BUT!  Not to be out done by my bottle of beer nestled comfortably in it's leopard print koozie.  That definitely steps it up on the classy scale.  That's just another reason we do not host dinner parties.  At least not indoor ones.  It might be considered acceptable behavior sitting outside by the grill.  Then it would be called a cook out, but  people with the social skills of cavemen do not belong at dinner parties.

The Culinary Coordinator Quits

It's pretty much common knowledge that I'm on the borderline of being a culinary genius.  I tend to think of recipes as suggestions?  Guidelines?  Then I throw caution to the wind, take my ideas, and run with them.  With that being said, it's also a known fact that the same tactics mentioned above do not apply to baking.  Baking is something that cannot be tampered with.  One wrong measurement and the whole thing is a disaster.  Of course, I know this personally from when I had that big catastrophe and started a fire.

With all that being said, Momma's work load is about to decrease!  I am taking a temporary(?) hiatus from being the go-to gal for dinners around here.  I put in a lot of time and thought into weekly meal planning.  I scour the various cookbooks we have here at home, and I search for new things online to add variety into our meals.  I pilfer through the pantry, freezer, and fridge to account for the ingredients I already have on hand, and tirelessly go to work on my grocery list.  I write down the meal we'll be having as well as the ingredients I need to pick up to prepare it.  It's all a very rigorous, scientific process.  When it comes time for unloading the groceries, I think to myself "self, what days would be best to prepare each given meal according to my husband's schedule?"  As that determines what should be frozen, cooked rather soon, or can wait.

Then, being the good little diligent wife I am, I set out on a cooking endeavor and start preparing dinner.  And then guess what happens??  My husband tells me he isn't coming home.  Just doesn't come home.  Or even better, he doesn't know WHEN he'll be home... tonight, tomorrow, 4 days from now?  Who the hell knows?  So, there I am left with food to be wasted.  All of that time spent planning, preparing, cooking... WASTED.  My personal favorite, which just occurred not too long ago was this:  I get to work in the kitchen to make dinner as fast as I can because everyone is starving.  Sloppy Joes are ready to be slapped on buns, and Sweet Potato Fries are about to jump out of the oven.  And then!!!!  Jason leaves to go on a fire.  Well, I might as well eat what I want and feed the rest to the dogs.  Half of the time I have to make Elise something different than what we eat anyway, so it's not exactly like I'm preparing a meal for me AND her.  So, one could possibly see this frustration.  There's other things I could do with all that time... and even though I rock at it, I'm not exactly cooking for my entertainment.

So, until further notice I am taking a break from recipe searching, list making, ingredient sorting, meal planning, and anything else related to the preparation of dinner.  Everyone is now on their own to fend for themselves.  Well, besides Elise of course.  I make her dinner every night so that won't change.  As far as Jason and myself?  Cereal, sandwiches, and Pizza Rolls....  make it happen.

I also want to add:  Since I won't be wasting time doing the above mentioned items, I also won't be wasting time cleaning up the kitchen either.  I think I might take on scrap booking, knitting, or basket weaving. 

18 Months

Yesterday... Actually last night at 9:39pm Elise turned the big 1-8... 18 Months old and she hasn't looked back.  I, on the other hand look back frequently and miss the days of the tiny little baby we brought home from the hospital.  But that just makes me depressed.  Especially because I love having all the pictures to look back at, and I have none of the three of us at the hospital right after she was born, none of me and Jason while I was in labor (probably wouldn't be pretty anyway), none of the three of us as we left the hospital to come home.

But, even so, I have this one and a half year old that I contend with everyday that has some independence.  Something I'm pretty sure I longed for during those long & sleepless days and nights.  Now, instead of her needing me 12 hours out of the day (since she spent the other 12 sleeping) she comes to me when she needs something.  She climbs up in my lap to snuggle and give kisses.  She and I entertain each other, and can actually communicate with each other.

I tried to make a quick list of Elise's development, and of the new things she doing.

• She says MaMa, Doggie, KiKi (kitty kitty), Thank you, Daggie (Daddy), Please (pees)
• Gives High Fives
• Gives kisses and hugs *selectively*
• Knows and points to where her head, feet, nose and belly are
• She will go to her bed when she is asked if she's ready for a nap
• Goes to her changing table when asked if she needs a clean diaper
• When asked, she finds her cup, blankie, shoes, phone, paci, deer, Violet, etc.
• Brushes her hair and teeth
• Helps to put lotion on, and put her shoes on
• Loves to dance to music and occasional attempts to sing along
• She goes to bathtub when asked if she's ready for her bath
• She likes to have clean hands and frequently wipes her mouth while eating with napkins or her burp rag
• We keep her burp rag out for her, so when we tell her to go wipe her nose or her mouth she finds it does so.
• Goes to microwave/fridge for food/drinks
• Throws paci's, cups, toys when mad
• Uses spoon/fork to feed herself 
• Loves to help do laundry and unload the dish washer
• Current weight: 23lbs

I'm sure there's some stuff I've forgotten, but this is better than nothing.

April 2010

 April 2011

The Great Egg Hunt

Easter Sunday was Elise's first Easter egg hunt.  We didn't have high expectations of seeing her running around in a frenzy of excitement scooping eggs up and throwing them into her basket like a heathen.  Nevertheless, she was totally into the thrill of the chase.  We showed her one egg, told her to put it in her basket, and from that moment on it was on like Donkey Kong!

 

"Hmm.  Let me see what these colored balls are out in the yard."

 

"So, let me make sure I'm understanding this complicated concept.  I just pick it up, put it in that pink lacy bucket, and all ya'll cheer and clap your hands?"

"Well, watch this you idiots and prepare to be amazed.  Psshhh.  Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader my azz"

"That's right peeps!  Baby got mad egg huntin skillz!"

"Uh huh... thought I wouldn't find this one did you?  I was born at night, but it wasn't last night, honey"

"I'm going to be unloading all of my eggs into my car.  I like my eggs where I can see them.  Oh, and Nana... be a dear and make sure you don't drop any."

"I'm outta here, homies.  Catch ya on the flip side."

"Yo, Daddy-O, I know this ride can catch another gear, so don't let grass grow under your feet."

Such a little diva.  I just don't know what I'm going to do with all the attitude that little girl has.  I can only imagine it will continue to increase with her age.  

Of course, photos wouldn't be complete without a few family shots.  Unfortunately, we didn't manage to get any of all THREE of us together.  Maybe next year.

And since one day of egg hunting just wasn't enough.  Monday morning, afternoon, evening.  All day on Monday I picked up Easter eggs, while someone else kept on celebrating.  And celebrating.  Just wait until Christmas this year.  It's going to be a celebration of epic proportions.  She might even have that shot glass mastered by New Year's.  Of course she'll be shooting chocolate milk.  Just because she's small doesn't mean she doesn't have BIG plans!

Sad, but True

Elise opened the drawer on the china cabinet and took out a shot glass.  Elise opened up the drawer on the china cabinet and was digging through all of the stuff so I looked in there to see what I could give her to play with.  I found a plastic shot glass from Senor Frogs when we went to Mexico.  She carried it around and seemed content with her new "toy."  Suddenly, her little brain went to work as she headed over to the refrigerator and held it up to the automatic water dispenser.  She turned and looked at me.  Either to see if I was going to say "no" or to get my attention to show me what she was GOING TO DO no matter what I would say... which she does from time to time.  I just sat back and watched her to see how this would turn out.  Surprisingly enough, she successfully pushed her shot glass hard enough to actually get a little bit of water to pour into it.  Now what is she going to do with that? I wondered.  Maybe try to drink it?  Maybe pour in the dog bowl?  I started to make my way towards her at the very minute she dumped it all on the floor.  She was devastated! She threw down her shot glass and started wailing.  All of that hard work only to be spilled on the floor.  You would have thought it was an adult who was really PO'd because REAL alcohol had been wasted.  Lord, please do not let this be foreshadowing.

Another Trip To The Park

Today Elise and I met Jason during his lunch break at a park here in town to have a picnic.  We ate our lunch and played with Elise.  Some of my amazing photography skills at work...

And just for the record, that slide was A LOT faster than it looked, and we didn't test drive it beforehand.

Amazing Skills My Husband Has

Since my husband's profession requires him to partake in horribly disgusting events and scenes, you know the usual car wrecks with mangled body parts thrown all over the highway, idiots that set their vehicles on fire while they cruise down the interstate only to be burnt to a crisp for others to find, psychopaths that blow their faces off with shotguns, you can only presume that he would have a strong stomach.  I mean, one would have to.  I however, hear someone barfing and it's all over with.  Make that a party of two pukers!  One might also think that a profession such as his would develop characteristics such as compassion and sympathy.  I'm pretty sure that's not the case, well at least not in mine anyway.

Anyway, yesterday morning I woke up with my intestines screaming for help.  I lingered by the toilet willing the evil out of my gut and my body soaked in sweat.  Nothing.  I hopped in the shower for some relief.  I just sat in the bottom of the tub and washed my hair, face, and body while the water poured on top of me.  Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt.  Meaning, the more I moved around, the sicker I felt.  Luckily for me, Jason was off yesterday because he had a dentist appointment and I had a follow-up appointment with my family doctor.  I started to get myself ready and dressed, taking minutes in between to sit down so that the nausea would subside.  My face was pale and my lips were white.  We were on our way out the door to my appointment and I grabbed a plastic grocery bag.  You know, just in case.  I laid my head back and closed my eyes and hoped that Jason would STOP HITTING THE BUMPS!

We made it to the doctor's office, I checked in, and they wanted to have a freaking conversation about my bill and my deductible and all that crap.  I mean REALLY?!  I thought to myself, let's discuss this later or else you'll be sending me a bill to have your entire waiting room repainted from the vomit I'm about to cover the walls in.

They called me back, I did the whole deal with the nurse, weight, blood pressure, how are you doing, I'm fine just need a barf bag please, the doctor will be in shortly blah, blah, blah.

My doctor sent over a prescription to the pharmacy across the street and we headed out the door.  As we got into the truck Jason says "are you getting hungry?"  umm no.  "I'm just thirsty."

There was a Sonic right next to the doctor's office so we whipped in there.

"Do you want something to eat?"

Uggghhhhhhhh!  For the love of GOD quit talking about food!

"no, just a Sprite."

The Sonic worker came over the intercom:  "Welcome to Sonic, can I take your order?"

"Yes, I need a medium Sprite, a large Cherry Limeade, and an order of Mozzarella Sticks."

"Ok, that will be $7.21"

Immediately after that brief conversation, I threw my face into my plastic sack and barfed 3 times in it.

Everyone was just chillin in the truck, and I had my face in a sack making the most horrific noises and begging for the bag to NOT have a freaking hole in it.  Then, Jason decided he was going to look over at me and the contents of the bag.

"Just liquid huh?"

Yeah you wanna taste it?  Is what I would have said if I hadn't felt so sick.

Here comes the little car hop with our order.  And I'm holding a bag of barf.  Neat.

Jason just whips out his cheese sticks and starts going to town on them all the while looking for a dumpster so that I can dispose of the mess.

"It's hard for me to eat because this side of my face is all numb."

Wow, that sure is a tragedy.  It's hard for me to smell those cheese sticks because I wanna puke and don't have anywhere to do it.

It did look pretty funny.  One side of his face looked paralyzed.  Of course I didn't care at that given moment.

All I'm thinking about is where am I gonna puke the next time.  We need to find another plastic bag STAT!

Then he says, "Well, they didn't give me any dipping sauce."

Seriously?!  How can you eat while all this is going on?!  Evidently due to his strong tolerance for events such as these.  At least it's a good thing he doesn't have a weak stomach, because then we'd both be barfing all over the place.

Luckily, we acquired another plastic bag for the next puking session.  And another for the one after that.  It was all quite a sight to behold.  Jason's driving down the road, I'm puking into plastic bags, and in between puking sessions, trying to feed my daughter some Teddy Grahams to keep her happy.  It was a really fun morning!  I can't wait to do it again!

An End To The Battle Of The Binky

I carry Elise's pacifiers around like I carry my cell phone for fear that we will be somewhere and not have one when she wants it.  Not exactly ideal, but whatever soothes her.  But, lately I have been tormented about the paci dilemma.  I know Elise loves it, but I am was under the assumption that she SHOULDN'T have it anymore.  But why?  Her pediatrician said to toss them at 6 months?  Her speech will be affected?  She'll have orthodontic problems?  It's not socially acceptable to see a toddler with a paci beyond a certain age?

Yesterday I got online to do some research about how to wean her from her favorite thing since we have really been struggling with it.  When she wants it and we don't give it to her, she has a meltdown throughout multiple rooms of the whole house.  Jason and I are at a loss for what to do.  Should we give it to her?  Are we giving her mixed signals by giving it to her sometimes and not others?  Are we mean for taking away something that comforts her?

After some online investigation, I came across something that answered many of my questions.  A website called askdrsears.com.  I know it's a reputable one since I have a couple of baby books written by the same doctor.  His opinion put me at ease for the time being.

"Pacifiers are "peacemakers" – which children return to as an attachment object. Some infants and young children have an intense need to suck for comfort, which lasts well into their preschool years. Seeing a plug in a three-year-old's mouth actually bothers adults more than children. This does not imply a psychological problem or a need unfulfilled by parents. On the contrary, the ability to use objects to self-comfort is a sign of psychological health. The only problem with pacifiers at three years of age is the likelihood of exerting pressure on the upper front teeth, resulting in an overbite. If your child does not use a pacifier long enough and suck hard enough to be causing mal-alignment of the teeth, then there is no need to break this habit."

After reading this particular article, I told Jason that I was going to give up the struggle of battling with Elise and myself over her paci.  I told him, "let her have it, if she wants it."  I'm just going to keep rocking along with it and see if the time will come when she decides to give it up on her own.  If I notice she has some teeth problems or she hasn't given it up within the next year, I'll do further research on breaking the paci habit.

Whirlwind Weekend

Most weekends Jason, Elise, and I spend at home or make the occasional trip up to Amarillo. Nothing too special.  If Elise goes to spend the night with her Nana & Grandpa, Jason and I will go to dinner or a movie and call it a night.

This past weekend, Elise spent 2 nights over there.  Friday AND Saturday.  Since we had 2 nights and 1 FULL day to spend baby free we decided to GO BIG OR GO HOME!

Friday night we went up to Amarillo and ran by the mall for a bit.  Then we headed up to our new favorite hot spot, the Texas Firehouse to have a couple of drinks.  After that, it was off to the Japanese steak house for sushi and tons of food.  As if that wasn't enough, we came back to town and met some friends at the only place in town that serves alcohol for a few beers.  We were home by 1am.

Friday night we made some plans with some friends of ours to go hiking out at Palo Duro Canyon on Saturday.  We were up and getting ready by 9am.  We went to Subway to get some sandwiches to take out there with us, packed up all of our gear, and the four of us headed out.  We did the 6 mile round trip trail and it took most of the day.  We were back at the house at 4pm, showered and cleaned up, and back out the door again by 5:30pm to meet them for dinner and then a movie.  By the time the movie was over, the four of us were absolutely exhausted!  We couldn't wait to get home and go to bed!

We were up the next morning at 8:30am to meet to get Elise, who looked like she just as tired as we were.

Jason and I went from doing nothing on the weekend to doing EVERYTHING all at once!  Our Visa took a beating, but if you can't run with the big dogs you gotta stay chained to the porch.  Looks like I'm staying chained to the porch the rest of the week.

A few pictures from our adventure at the canyon