cool beans

Throughout my life I’ve had a recurring theme nightmare about two ventriloquism dolls. A boy and a girl. The location and situation typically changed with each nightmare appearance, but the dolls themselves were the same each time. They were still and calm and pleasant when other people were looking. But when I was alone with them or no one was watching, they were mean to me. I knew they were evil but no one else did and if I managed to warn someone about the dolls, I wasn’t believed.

In one dream the boy doll shape-shifted into a daschund. The doll couldn’t be in the same place I was, but the dog could be. I was trying to tell someone how bad the dolls were and how mean and evil they were to me. But the dog came in and stopped me from talking. I missed a chance to be heard because he could make himself look however he wanted.

I told my mom about the dolls’ recurring appearances in my sleep and she became angry with me. She believed I deeply resented and possibly hated my brother and sister and that the dolls represented my siblings. I was hurt by her accusation, shocked by the idea, and immediately frustrated with her firm belief that I knew wasn’t true. I didn’t know then what the dolls represented but I was certain they weren’t my brother and sister.

Today I found out for sure that my mom had it all wrong. Today I learned the dolls were my parents.

Limping around really sucks. I’ve found out I’m not quite as sedentary as I thought. I mean, I still like sitting a lot, but it’s become painfully clear that I used to move around a bunch, too.

I’m feeling guilty for having two x-rays, a bone scan and an MRI only to have a final diagnosis of “Possible stress fracture, maybe, sort of. Or not.” I should have been a doctor. No! Wait! I am a doctor. “I can’t find anything wrong with you. Have some Vicodin and a pat on the head. That’ll be $12,000.” I should put a up PayPal link if I’m giving this kind of medical advice out. You’re so lucky to get it free. For a limited time! Call now and I’ll refer you to someone really incompetent! You’ll know because the certificate on the wall will say M.D. Or “Certified BONEHEAD.”

I’m also feeling guilty for the cost of the chiropractor and supplements and the therapy bill. We know a lot of graduates this year and when we add that to all my medical expenses there isn’t much left. The checkbook is a bit bulimic - we stuff it full of money one day only to see it all puked back out the next. We’re nearing the point of an anorexia/bulimia combo as the bills come in faster than the paychecks. We’ll catch up someday, I know we will. We always find it. I just like it better when it isn’t ME who’s jamming the spoon down the checking account’s throat.

My mother called to ask if they could take the kids to a movie. I said yes, but that I wanted to go, too. My dad didn’t talk to me much. There is serious tension there. I chirped cheerfully through it and felt good. Until we got home and the armor fell off. At the same time, I noticed I left a candle burning while we were out. Don’t tell my husband. (Honey, don’t read that last part. Isn’t it awesome to have a house that isn’t made of smoking ashes? I know! Totally awesome!)

The washing machine is leaking. A puddle forms under the right front corner with each load. Maybe half a cup of water each time. I took the cover off and it looks relatively dry inside. I couldn’t find the flashlight and was afraid to touch around in there with it plugged in. (It’s a Maytag stacked set in case any appliance repair people are reading.) I was mopping up the leak this morning and a little centipede buggy thing was having a little swim. Holy crap those things are creepy.

Dudes, if you didn’t click the link for the centipede, I must insist you go back up there and do it. I had to look for the image to share with you and then pulled all my skin off going through the pictures looking for the right thing. SO CLICK IT. I DID THIS ALL FOR YOU! I.AM.SKINLESS. I’m totally having nightmares about centipedes now. Gah! Centipedes fashioning clothes for themselves with my skin.

This is the worst Google search I’ve ever done.

This week has been filled with limping, right hip pain, lower left back pain, some more limping and the question, “What did you do to your foot?”

I smashed it with a hammer. DUH.

and

Nothing. This air-boot is all the rage now! It’s this season’s UGG!

and

Leave.me.alone.

This week has also included an MRI, a trip to the chiropractor, a visit with my therapist and bankruptcy.

What have I been doing to escape? Breeding fish.

When I picked my son up from baseball practice on the other day, I told him I thought his hair was getting a little long. He said, “So?”

That teensy little word brought me right up to that fork in the road where one way is “Awesome Mom” and the other way is “Just Like Your Mother”. On the first path, “So?” is the right answer. Because, really, it’s just hair. It’s HIS hair which is attached to his body. If he wants to wear it shaggy and long and messy and “sort of” like Zack and Cody or the adorable young waiter at brunch today, why not? He might look cute like that. It might also provide hilarious pictures at graduation a few years from now. On the other trail, we have “being presentable” and remembering how we look can affect how we’re treated. Other people might think my nice kid is a hooligan because his hair covers his ears. Worse, OTHER MOTHERS might think I’m a lazy parent for not hauling my kid off to a barber to get that mop trimmed up. The horror.

All the way home I struggled. Do I make him cut his hair even though his father’s hair was as long as mine when we married? I reminded myself part of what made my husband attractive to me was his mullet (I KNOW!) and his pierced ear. But what about expectations? People thought all my long-haired boyfriends were doomed to failure or were likely involved in criminal activity because they looked the way they looked. Would those boys have been more successful or happier if people viewed them differently and had higher expectations?

Finally I told my son, “This is hard for me, kid. I want to let you be you. Your hair is your hair. But I feel like I’m supposed to make you get haircuts.” What I didn’t say is that I want people to see him how I see him. For who he is not just for his appearance. I guess I’m not in control of that. I can’t make other people see what they’re supposed to see. My son can’t either. So I’ll let him wear his hair over his ears. As long as it’s not in his eyes and he keeps it clean. And for as long as I can, I’ll walk ahead of him with a disclaimer: “It’s okay. Really. He’s not dangerous, just shaggy.” I suppose that’s the price I pay for thinking rebels are cool and for buying him all those emo CDs for Easter.

For now I’m cruising Awesome Mom Drive. But I’m keeping my eye on the traffic over on Just Like Your Mother Avenue in the event I need an escape route.

I’ve spent the last two weeks looking for solutions to the problem with my foot. I’ve had two x-rays and a bone scan, seen an ER doctor, chiropractor, nurse practitioner, and an orthopedic surgeon.

Guess what. We still don’t know what the hell is wrong with my foot. Other than I’m obviously limping. The bone scan showed “stress fracture vs. osteomyelitis.” Which, in case you don’t know, is the same as “awesome vs. awesomer!” I’m wearing a “boot” in case it’s a fracture and they drew blood to rule out bone infection.

The person who has helped me the most? The chiropractor who cracks my neck and back and has me doing funky weird things like color therapy. I know. Weird. For now, I’m treating him like my primary care provider because no one else is doing much of anything. And I LOVE that I had radioactive dye pushed into a vein so I could have a bone scan that tells the orthopedic surgeon nothing. Yippee!

While I’m hanging out this weekend, I’m going to think up new answers to the question, “What’d you do to your foot?” Suggestions are welcome. Also? If health care in Canada is still free, would someone like to adopt a lovely family of five? I promise we’re lots of fun!

When I was pregnant with The Toddler, I became aware of a growing number of parents who were using cloth diapers for their babies. Everything from the old fashioned flats and prefolds to ultra-expensive collector diapers in embroidered wool. At first I thought these people were a bit insane. CLOTH? What the heck for? I had memories of my mother dunking diapers and of the wet pail she kept in the bathroom. I certainly didn’t want anything to do with that. I felt bad about making mounds of garbage, but did I really believe disposable diapers could pose a threat to my son’s fertility*? With all the dangers we face each day, were the byproducts of disposable diaper manufacturing really all that terrible?

Furthermore, how on earth would I be able to work full-time, nurse a baby, keep track of three kids, manage a house and husband AND wash cloth diapers?!

The subject kept coming up, though, and like all things that keep getting in my path I had to pay attention. I followed links and read articles and compared information. I visited online cloth diaper stores and put things into online carts and ran away. I asked several people how many and what kind of diapers I would need and how I could save the most money on an initial purchase. I gave birth to The Toddler (who was “The Baby” back then) and kept reading and researching. And then I read somewhere that each kid accounts for something like 7,000 disposable diapers and I gathered all that information and all my courage and placed an order. I suppose I thought I could say, “Oops. Sorry!” about 14,000 plastic-wrapped bombs of human waste hanging out in a landfill somewhere, but that’s where I drew the line. I wasn’t making our total 21,000!

It’s funny what the deciding factor is sometimes, isn’t it?

I placed my first cloth diaper purchase at NaturalBabies**. I spent somewhere around $230 for a stash of infant, regular and a few premium prefolds, assorted covers, a couple “pocket” diapers, Snappi fasteners, wet bags, and a couple fitteds to satisfy my curiosity about “pricey” diapers. They arrived shortly after I returned to work and I was ridiculously excited about them. Nearly everyone I knew, including my husband, thought I was hugging the tree a little too tight.

Cloth diapering turned out to be easier than I anticipated once I figured out the best way to “strip” diapers sewn from unbleached cotton. I spent more than one weekend in front of my stove boiling diapers in two large pots, waiting for the natural wax of the cotton to wear off. I believe unbleached cotton diapers are the way to go, but be prepared to either crank the water heater or boil new diapers.

Before placing my first order, I called the daycare provider and ran the idea past her. It turned out she’d cloth diapered all seven of her own children and would use whatever I sent in the diaper bag. She told me she didn’t see the point in “buying garbage.” She was impressed with the prefolds and the Snappi fastener and all the cute, velcro-closure covers. Our second and current daycare provider felt the same way and has been excited to see new covers appear in the rotation from time to time. For the most part, I sent prefolds and Snappi fasteners along with Bummis or similar covers. I also send Snappi fitteds now and the sitter uses them for the last change of the day.

I prefer flats and prefolds over fitteds. I have to run a cycle and a half to dry a load of diapers and most fitteds (other than the Snappi Fitteds) still needed more time to dry. I don’t want to fuss with running down to reset the dryer, nor do I want to run the dryer longer than necessary. I also feel flats and prefolds and fitteds with external soakers get cleaner than diapers with an all-in-one construction.

I like pins better than Snappis. I like the fit I can get with pins and once The Toddler became mobile, pins keep everything in place a bit better than the Snappi fasteners. I’ve poked myself dozens of times, but I’ve never poked The Toddler. My husband and sitter have only used pins when there was no Snappi to be found. I think it’s happened only once or twice with each of them.

My husband and I have noticed that The Toddler has had far fewer diaper rashes than the other kids had. Also, up-the-back blow-outs have pretty much been non-existent with The Toddler. A few months ago we stopped using FuzziBunz pockets at night because I couldn’t get the older baby pee smell out of the fleece. (I don’t think it was a problem with the diapers. I think our water isn’t hot enough to get the mature baby smell out of that particular fabric.) We use disposables at night now, but I try to limit daytime “sposie” use. Also, cloth diapering has added two or three loads of laundry to each week and I haven’t found it to be a big deal. Keeping everyone in clean underwear and socks is still the most difficult part of the laundry.

My idea of the perfect cloth diapering stash consists of:

?? premie prefolds
24 infant prefolds (4×8x4)
12 regular prefolds (4×6x4) OR 12 flatfold diapers
24 premium prefolds (4×8x4)
4 small fitted with external-soaker or contoured diapers
4 medium fitted with external-soaker or contoured diapers
4 large fitted with external-soaker or contoured diapers
FuzziBunz diapers in small, medium and large (4-6 of each size)
Four FuzziBunz wet bags
Snappi fasteners (4-6)
Pins
6 Velcro or snap covers in each size, SML
Kissaluvs Diaper Lotion Potion

If you’re having trouble with the prefolds, Mike, you might try some birdseye cotton flatfolds. The material is absorbent, but less bulky. You can also fold smaller or larger. You may also give pins a try. It’s scary the first few times, but the fit is so much better. Stick the pins in a bar of soap to make them slide through the fabric and keep your hand between the diaper and the baby to prevent an accidental stick.

*I swear to you, I read this somewhere. Honest.

**You should be able to purchase nearly everything I’ve discussed here via NaturalBabies or OneStopDiaperShop.

Tagged: Cloth Diapers Motherhood Tree Hugging Being A Hippie

I’m pretty sure I forgot to brush my teeth this morning. My teeth are feeling fuzzy. How could I forget to brush and why is it so hard to remember not brushing?

Here are a few more things I don’t get:

What exactly is del.icio.us?

Why is Technorati always too busy to perform my search and how can I use Technorati to my advantage? What would that mean, exactly? What do I want Technorati to do for me?

What is jicama?

How does one pronounce “thimerosal”?

When the headline says, “Bears eat monkey, visitors shocked”, the writer means the visitors were disgusted or sad for the monkey, right? Not that they were SURPRISED a bear would eat a monkey, right? Because ya’ll should know monkeys are cheeky and bears won’t stand for that shit.

Testing Technorati Tags: Diary Blogging Computers and Internet Cheeky Monkeys

Thursday was my husband’s birthday.. He turned OLD. He’s a good guy who likes me even though I’m crazy and say mean things a lot. We’re not sappy and gooey and junk, so it’s easy to forget why we like each other. I think we just don’t think about it. Unfortunately, that means I tend to focus on the things I don’t like. Which I’m not mentioning here because this is sort of for his birthday. It wouldn’t be nice of me to say “HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Please stop watching television with your mouth open! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT ANOTHER HAND OF POKER EVER! Let’s try to be on time someday!” So we’ll just leave all that out. I found this meme at Teacher-mom and thought it would be a nice way to focus on the positives.

2 things you compliment your husband on while in his presence:

1. I tell him he looks nice when he looks nice. To which he generally replies, “I know.” I’m usually looking for this response: “You look nice, too.” Hint, mo’fo’. HINT HINT.
2. If he doesn’t stink, I might say something about that, too. I’m typically not looking for a response here, just reinforcing good behavior.

2 compliments you make about your spouse to your friends about your spouse (wow. clunky wording much?):

1. “He gets groceries.”
2. “He’s one of the trainable ones.”

2 traits you married him/her for:

1. He looked like a rebel but was a softie.
2. Beer was always free when we started dating. I was hoping for the same when we started being married. Didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.

2 Days you cherished the most with your husband being together (I’m going with spans of time instead because we’re just not that sappy or romantic or in love all day any given day):

1. When I was pregnant with The Toddler.
2. Right now as I’m dealing with major historical bullshit.

2 Material things you could give your husband if you just inherited a fortune:

1. A house on a lake.
2. A hard time about wanting ANOTHER effing boat just because we live on a lake. Can’t you borrow the neighbors’ boat?

2 things you would miss the most if she/he left for two weeks:

1. He handles the crazy after school hours of the day. I don’t always love the way he handles it, but I very much do not want to do it myself. Thank you.
2. Sleeping before 2a.m. I just cannot sleep right when he’s not here.

2 thoughts that crossed your mind when you first met/saw your spouse:

1. “Large butterscotch malt.”
2. “His friend is cute.” (To be fair, he saw me and my friend and he surely thought, “Her friend is cute.” We were the losers. Which makes us WINNERS! Especially since we’re no longer friends with the cute ones. Neener on them.)

2 3 favorite dates:

1. Dinner on a train.
2. The Guns N’ Roses concert at which I caught tonsillitis. I lost five pounds that week because I couldn’t eat or drink anything. Thanks, baby.
3. Motel Shangri-la. WINK

2 funny odd things you love:

1. His love for Christmas music and holiday cartoons. “Put one foot in front of the other.”
2. His armpits never smell bad. He might smell like lake water and wind and the outdoors, but not that foul body odor. I smell like that enough for both of us.

2 two places you have lived with your spouse:

1. A cockroach infested hole in the ground with a bathroom smaller than your smallest closet.
2. Our current home that is thankfully lacking in cockroaches and has a slightly larger bathroom. It does have three messy kids, though. So, eh.

2 favorite Vacations:

1. Motel Shangri-la. (I wish I was kidding about the name of this place.)
2. A sort of recent trip (the one with waffles) to the Big City to shop and relax.

I was craving ice cream but wanted to be a good girl. I made smoothies for me and the kids instead. In went banana and frozen strawberries and some leftover canned peaches and some fresh pineapple and chomp chomp chomp chomp HOP HOP HOP!!! Holy crap! The blender is ALIVE!

But now I think it’s dead. Or stripped or something. We got smoothies, but there are some serious chunks of strawberry and pineapple here. I was afraid to make it keep running on account of the growling and baring of teeth.

So I’m looking for a new blender. I use my blender for making smoothies and frozen hot chocolate. I’d maybe use it for frozen grown-up beverages in the summer. I don’t want a super expensive blender, but I have to have one that can chew through frozen fruit and ice like nobody’s business. It might be important to know I don’t like runny smoothies. I like smoothies with the consistency of a thick shake.

Suggestions? Warnings? Smoothie or other blended drink recipes? Please and thank you!

During my most recent bout with insanity, I’ve noticed that Saturdays can be particularly motherfucking crazy. My temper is always at blast off and I have negative patience. It’s like I’m waiting for the next thing to set me off. I am better when there is no one to be angry with. If I hide in a room by myself and don’t move around much, I feel better. Lonely and sad and crazy, but less violent and yelly.

I was still in bed when my husband was pulling on his shoes this morning. I immediately felt panicky that he was going to be gone all day and asked what time he’d be home. “Around 6:00.” Right now, 6:00 sounds like a lifetime away. In an attempt to fill up the time, I’ve done some laundry, cut up a pineapple and cleaned five pounds of strawberries for shortcake and freezing, made coffee, loaded the dishwasher, spoon-fed The Toddler yogurt and applesauce, dressed him, helped my daughter clean the bathroom, washed my hands 15 times (at least). I started out okay. Keeping busy and focusing on one task at a time. But slowly, my super thin layer of patience rubbed off. I don’t want to help The Toddler play Gameboy. I want to stomp on Gameboy. I don’t want to pretend he’s a doggie anymore because STOP LICKING ME ALREADY! My daughter can’t remember to wipe off the faucet in the bathroom sink EVER and she can’t help whining about it. We can’t find Toy Story 2 and if any of you know what “PEESHEE DVD” is, TELL ME NOW. I’ve yelled at almost everyone. I asked my daughter to take The Toddler downstairs to play for a while because his whining was making me scream and that’s not nice. So downstairs she went. He wouldn’t follow. Instead he came in with a toy laser and shot me. Excellent.

The only reason I haven’t yelled at my son? He’s busy staying out of my way. Monday he brought home a mid-quarter progress report from his teacher. His grades were all excellent, but he has a goal of 19 AR (Accelerated Reader) points and he hasn’t read one book this quarter. So we discussed it calmly and he agreed to read for one hour or 56 pages each day so that he could take the AR test the following Monday. During the week, his father and I asked how he was doing and he showed his father that he was on page 112. He held the book open to a spot beyond halfway when I asked. Last night I found a worksheet in his bag that said, “5/10″. Meaning he missed five out of ten questions on a worksheet that said clearly at the top, “You can look back at the story to help you answer.”

I showed him the paper and at first he said he didn’t remember the story. I pointed out the directions and he said he rushed through it. Then I asked him about his AR book. “How far are you?” I asked. He said, “Here.” and shoved the book at me with his head down.

Page 45.

I was in a state of disbelief. “Is this a second book? Did you finish the book from Monday already?” No. It was the very book he started on Monday. He lied all week so he’d be able to go outside instead.

I know this is stuff kids do, but two weeks after getting his black belt certificate and honors, he’s slacking at school and lying to his parents. No way. Not happening. He didn’t get to watch a movie with us last night. He’s not fishing with his father and aunt today. He’s not playing outside after school for two weeks. And he’s not doing anything this weekend until that book is read.

THANK YOU, Accelerated Reader! Thank you for helping me instill a love of reading in my children! This is SO working!

Edited to add: My afternoon got a little better. I keep reminding myself that I’m working on this problem and Saturdays can be the way I like them again soon. It was difficult for us to deny our son the movie and the fishing trip because we like for him to have fun and we enjoy spending time with him. It will be hard when he wants to go to his friend’s house this week and we have to say no. While I sometimes make jokes about parenting being “Us VS. Them”, I don’t want them to feel that they are bad people because they make mistakes or when I need some space. I know how much that feeling sucks.