On the mend

We started out our day in the tub because that's what you do when the diaper fails to hold all of that baby delight (by the way, it was not delightful.  It was pretty grody; my sinuses are still pretty stuffed, though, so I didn't really smell anything and Finn enjoyed a few minutes of splashing).

I've been holed up in my yoga pants for the past week, nursing first the baby and then myself through quite possibly the worst cold EVER, but I think we're all almost healthy .  Well, except Uriah, who's sinuses strarted to bother him yesterday.  But I've been plying him liberally with Sudafed and orange juice in an effort to circumvent the worst of it (for the record, I realize that I make a really bad sick person, especially when it lasts longer than 14 seconds, and especially, especially when I loose my ability to taste; I get snappy and unreasonab le.  However, I'm a damn fine nurse!). 

It always amazed me how families talked about passing the flu or a cold around their house; how every single person somehow managed to be stricken with the plauge of the moment.  "Have you not heard of Lysol Disinfectant spray?" I'd think. "Wash your hands, for crying out loud!"  Honestly, I had no idea that you can Lysol the crap out of your house 24 hours a day, boil everything including the bed sheets and the kitchen sink, and wash your hands constantly, and still end up passing that virus around. 

So, I guess we're looking at another week at least before we can claim to be 100% healthy.   In the meantime, it's teetering on the brink of March which means, among other things, St. Patty's Day and Uriah's birthday, two of my most favorite holidays, and hopefully some nice spring weather will be here to stay, too.

We started out our day in the tub because that's what you do when the diaper fails to hold all of that baby delight (by the way, it was not delightful.  It was pretty grody; my sinuses are still pretty stuffed, though, so I didn't really smell anything and Finn enjoyed a few minutes of splashing).

I've been holed up in my yoga pants for the past week, nursing first the baby and then myself through quite possibly the worst cold EVER, but I think we're all almost healthy .  Well, except Uriah, who's sinuses strarted to bother him yesterday.  But I've been plying him liberally with Sudafed and orange juice in an effort to circumvent the worst of it (for the record, I realize that I make a really bad sick person, especially when it lasts longer than 14 seconds, and especially, especially when I loose my ability to taste; I get snappy and unreasonab le.  However, I'm a damn fine nurse!). 

It always amazed me how families talked about passing the flu or a cold around their house; how every single person somehow managed to be stricken with the plauge of the moment.  "Have you not heard of Lysol Disinfectant spray?" I'd think. "Wash your hands, for crying out loud!"  Honestly, I had no idea that you can Lysol the crap out of your house 24 hours a day, boil everything including the bed sheets and the kitchen sink, and wash your hands constantly, and still end up passing that virus around. 

So, I guess we're looking at another week at least before we can claim to be 100% healthy.   In the meantime, it's teetering on the brink of March which means, among other things, St. Patty's Day and Uriah's birthday, two of my most favorite holidays, and hopefully some nice spring weather will be here to stay, too.

You know that feeling...

...where if you put your head down you're pretty sure your face will explode through your sinuses due to the obscene amount of pressure?

That's how I feel.

Finn and I wore pj's all day yesterday and took two naps on the couch and played a little and read some books.  Mostly, though, we were just lazy, working our collective way through the first season of Grey's Anatomy (sidebar: I'd forgotten how good the writing was in the first couple of seasons.  The story lines were crisp, the dialogue was witty and I miss George).   I thought that all that it would take was one lazy, uneventful day and I would wake up today, miraculously cured of this demon sinus pain.  After all, Uriah only felt sick for about a day and a half...logic dictates that I should be better in the same amount of time.

Not so much.

Abby had play practice at the butt-crack of dawn this morning and Uriah, thankfully, took her.  He snuggled Finn into bed with me; I scratched his little back until he settled down and together we slept for another 2 hours (Uriah took a quick snooze on the couch when he got back from taking Abby; there was no room in the big bed!).

Finn, thankfully, is looking and feeling so much better this morning (the extra sleep he got this morning was necessary).  I think his top teeth are working their way in because his cheeks were really red yesterday and he was more drooly than usual, but this morning his eyes were bright and alert, his little arms and legs were wiggling, he was giggling and best of all...his nose wasn't overly stuffy!  All good signs toward being healthy, I'd say.

Fingers crossed that I'm next to topple into the healthy category...and soon!

...where if you put your head down you're pretty sure your face will explode through your sinuses due to the obscene amount of pressure?

That's how I feel.

Finn and I wore pj's all day yesterday and took two naps on the couch and played a little and read some books.  Mostly, though, we were just lazy, working our collective way through the first season of Grey's Anatomy (sidebar: I'd forgotten how good the writing was in the first couple of seasons.  The story lines were crisp, the dialogue was witty and I miss George).   I thought that all that it would take was one lazy, uneventful day and I would wake up today, miraculously cured of this demon sinus pain.  After all, Uriah only felt sick for about a day and a half...logic dictates that I should be better in the same amount of time.

Not so much.

Abby had play practice at the butt-crack of dawn this morning and Uriah, thankfully, took her.  He snuggled Finn into bed with me; I scratched his little back until he settled down and together we slept for another 2 hours (Uriah took a quick snooze on the couch when he got back from taking Abby; there was no room in the big bed!).

Finn, thankfully, is looking and feeling so much better this morning (the extra sleep he got this morning was necessary).  I think his top teeth are working their way in because his cheeks were really red yesterday and he was more drooly than usual, but this morning his eyes were bright and alert, his little arms and legs were wiggling, he was giggling and best of all...his nose wasn't overly stuffy!  All good signs toward being healthy, I'd say.

Fingers crossed that I'm next to topple into the healthy category...and soon!

Sick Baby

Finn is sick and it is yucky (I'm trying really hard not to use the words sucks and stupid...try it sometime, it's really hard!).

I was telling his daycare teacher on Wednesday morning when I dropped him off that he seemed to have a bit of a cough and could she please keep an eye on it for me.  She pulled out a bright yellow letter and proceeded to tell me that one of the kiddos in Finn's class went home sick on Monday and ended up with RSV (read: really grody viral infection that causes cold-like symptoms such as coughing and snotty noses and can, in some cases, lead to pneumonia).

Awesome.

When I got home from work on Wednesday night, Uriah was a little frazzled.  Finn's cough had gotten deeper and his little baby eyes looked tired (probably because he didn't really nap much during the day).  I gave him a warm bath and a bedtime bottle and put him to bed.  He slept pretty well, only waking up once because he couldn't roll over (he's a lazy sleeper and prefers to have someone move him.  We will be addressing this soon.).  Thursday morning he still had a cough and his nose was runny, but he didn'thave a temperature, (no temp, baby's going to school and mama's going to make some money) so off to school we went.   


{Thursday | 2.17.11}

That lasted until his teacher called me at 11:30 to tell me he didn't have a fever, but that he just wasn't himself (and I definetly trust the woman who snuggles my baby for the 8 hours a day that I can't to know when my son isn't acting like himself!).  By the time I got to school to pick him up, he looked worn out, even though he'd just taken a little nap; he was coughing and sounding like a pug and clearly miserable.  I picked him up and I am telling you what...there is nothing, nothing, like being someone's hero.  Baby Boy was so sad and so stuffed up; he wrapped his little arms around my neck and I had to peel him off to get his jacket and hat on so we could go home.
I put in a call to his doctor, but she said there was really nothing they could do and to just watch him but come in if he was having a hard time breathing.  So I watched him all afternoon.  I watched him as he napped with me on the couch and I kept my hand on his chest to make sure he was breathing easy.  I watched him while I made dinner, sucking snot out of his nose and rubbing his back.  I watched him after I laid him down in his crib and turned the monitor up extra high so we'd hear him if he woke up during the night.  And then Uriah watched him all day Friday, looking for any signs of difficutly breathing and sucking snot out of his tiny nose.  And then we both watched him yesterday, taking turns playing with him when he felt good and snuggling with him we he felt yucky.


{Saturday | 2.19.11}

We are doing the same thing today becasue he's still snotty and coughing and just not well.  And after 5 days of being coughed on and sneezed on and used as a human kleenex, both Uriah and I are starting to feel like Finn...yucky. 

Actually, it's worse than that...it's the word that rhymes with yucky.

Finn is sick and it is yucky (I'm trying really hard not to use the words sucks and stupid...try it sometime, it's really hard!).

I was telling his daycare teacher on Wednesday morning when I dropped him off that he seemed to have a bit of a cough and could she please keep an eye on it for me.  She pulled out a bright yellow letter and proceeded to tell me that one of the kiddos in Finn's class went home sick on Monday and ended up with RSV (read: really grody viral infection that causes cold-like symptoms such as coughing and snotty noses and can, in some cases, lead to pneumonia).

Awesome.

When I got home from work on Wednesday night, Uriah was a little frazzled.  Finn's cough had gotten deeper and his little baby eyes looked tired (probably because he didn't really nap much during the day).  I gave him a warm bath and a bedtime bottle and put him to bed.  He slept pretty well, only waking up once because he couldn't roll over (he's a lazy sleeper and prefers to have someone move him.  We will be addressing this soon.).  Thursday morning he still had a cough and his nose was runny, but he didn'thave a temperature, (no temp, baby's going to school and mama's going to make some money) so off to school we went.   


{Thursday | 2.17.11}

That lasted until his teacher called me at 11:30 to tell me he didn't have a fever, but that he just wasn't himself (and I definetly trust the woman who snuggles my baby for the 8 hours a day that I can't to know when my son isn't acting like himself!).  By the time I got to school to pick him up, he looked worn out, even though he'd just taken a little nap; he was coughing and sounding like a pug and clearly miserable.  I picked him up and I am telling you what...there is nothing, nothing, like being someone's hero.  Baby Boy was so sad and so stuffed up; he wrapped his little arms around my neck and I had to peel him off to get his jacket and hat on so we could go home.
I put in a call to his doctor, but she said there was really nothing they could do and to just watch him but come in if he was having a hard time breathing.  So I watched him all afternoon.  I watched him as he napped with me on the couch and I kept my hand on his chest to make sure he was breathing easy.  I watched him while I made dinner, sucking snot out of his nose and rubbing his back.  I watched him after I laid him down in his crib and turned the monitor up extra high so we'd hear him if he woke up during the night.  And then Uriah watched him all day Friday, looking for any signs of difficutly breathing and sucking snot out of his tiny nose.  And then we both watched him yesterday, taking turns playing with him when he felt good and snuggling with him we he felt yucky.


{Saturday | 2.19.11}

We are doing the same thing today becasue he's still snotty and coughing and just not well.  And after 5 days of being coughed on and sneezed on and used as a human kleenex, both Uriah and I are starting to feel like Finn...yucky. 

Actually, it's worse than that...it's the word that rhymes with yucky.

And here we all are.

Finn is sick (more on that later).

Uriah is sick of his job (wishing we were independently wealthy).

And, Abby...well, Abby got a role in her school play.  She has the most lines (She counted.  She counted everyone's lines.  She has the most.  She tells us daily.).

This is going to be an interesting experience.

Play practice is at 7:00 Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday...IN THE MORNING!  What happened to practicing after school, people?  I am not very agreeable to the morning-times and I am less so when I have to drive the girl that is BFF with the AM to school and listen to her run her lines...AT 7:00 IN THE MORNING!

Lord help me.

I also found a list in the bottom of her backpack yesterday.  It was titled: Things I need for school and it included such items as: hair ties, brush, deo (I guess that's shorthand for deodorant? At least she's conscious of body odor, so, bonus.), toothbrush and mouthwash (um...what?  I have to remind her to brush her teeth at night, but she wants to do it in school?!  I'm not complaining; brush away!  But don't try to tell me it's for dental hygiene.  I'm sure the real reason is a boy.), and...mascara.

Mascara?  Seriously?  Mascara?!  The rule in our house is that she has to wait at least until she's 13 to start wearing make-up in public.  We've had issues with her school uniform in the past and I know that she's aching to have her own style and that's really hard to do when you have to wear a uniform to school, so probably the only way those girls can establish some sort of identity is to wear make-up.  And I have seen the make-up job on some of those girls at her school.  I don't believe that any visit to the cosmetics counter would result in the application technique I've seen applied in the school hallways.  But, based on the money that I spend for prescription face cream, I want to keep her face as clean and clear as possible for as long as I can.

I think I'm fighting an uphill battle here, people.

Finn is sick (more on that later).

Uriah is sick of his job (wishing we were independently wealthy).

And, Abby...well, Abby got a role in her school play.  She has the most lines (She counted.  She counted everyone's lines.  She has the most.  She tells us daily.).

This is going to be an interesting experience.

Play practice is at 7:00 Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday...IN THE MORNING!  What happened to practicing after school, people?  I am not very agreeable to the morning-times and I am less so when I have to drive the girl that is BFF with the AM to school and listen to her run her lines...AT 7:00 IN THE MORNING!

Lord help me.

I also found a list in the bottom of her backpack yesterday.  It was titled: Things I need for school and it included such items as: hair ties, brush, deo (I guess that's shorthand for deodorant? At least she's conscious of body odor, so, bonus.), toothbrush and mouthwash (um...what?  I have to remind her to brush her teeth at night, but she wants to do it in school?!  I'm not complaining; brush away!  But don't try to tell me it's for dental hygiene.  I'm sure the real reason is a boy.), and...mascara.

Mascara?  Seriously?  Mascara?!  The rule in our house is that she has to wait at least until she's 13 to start wearing make-up in public.  We've had issues with her school uniform in the past and I know that she's aching to have her own style and that's really hard to do when you have to wear a uniform to school, so probably the only way those girls can establish some sort of identity is to wear make-up.  And I have seen the make-up job on some of those girls at her school.  I don't believe that any visit to the cosmetics counter would result in the application technique I've seen applied in the school hallways.  But, based on the money that I spend for prescription face cream, I want to keep her face as clean and clear as possible for as long as I can.

I think I'm fighting an uphill battle here, people.

Love

Do you know what I love most about this picture?  (Besides the fact that Abby is looking at Finn's tooth and Finn is looking at Abby like she is WonderWoman, I mean).  I love Finn's little hand on Abby's shoulder.  Before I was ever even pregnant, Abby asked me what she was supposed to call her future siblings.  I was confused and asked her to clarify.  She said: half brother or sister...step brother or sister?  I said how about just brother or sister.  Because really, the term "half" doesn't apply to these two.  They love each other wholly and completely and know only that one will be there for the other - all of the time, not just half of the time - that's what brothers and sisters do.  I couldn't ask for anything more for these two. 

Six months ago, I was a hot mess.  I had no idea what to do with this squirming, squalling baby boy whom I was suddenly entrusted with to keep alive.  Over the days and weeks and months, he has become my best boy, my morning sunshine and my evening prayer.  Never in my life did I think that my heart could feel like this.

They say that love is unconditional, but ours most definitely has conditions.  We are required to put the toilet seat down - at. all. times.  There is no going to bed angry.  We cannot both be in a funk at the same time - one must always be the cheerleader for the other based on who is the funkiest.  We are required to make each other laugh daily.  If we are stopped at a red light, we have to kiss.  We must constantly dream big dreams for our littles.  Most importantly, though, we are required to grow old together. 

I hope your day is as full of love as mine is...

Do you know what I love most about this picture?  (Besides the fact that Abby is looking at Finn's tooth and Finn is looking at Abby like she is WonderWoman, I mean).  I love Finn's little hand on Abby's shoulder.  Before I was ever even pregnant, Abby asked me what she was supposed to call her future siblings.  I was confused and asked her to clarify.  She said: half brother or sister...step brother or sister?  I said how about just brother or sister.  Because really, the term "half" doesn't apply to these two.  They love each other wholly and completely and know only that one will be there for the other - all of the time, not just half of the time - that's what brothers and sisters do.  I couldn't ask for anything more for these two. 

Six months ago, I was a hot mess.  I had no idea what to do with this squirming, squalling baby boy whom I was suddenly entrusted with to keep alive.  Over the days and weeks and months, he has become my best boy, my morning sunshine and my evening prayer.  Never in my life did I think that my heart could feel like this.

They say that love is unconditional, but ours most definitely has conditions.  We are required to put the toilet seat down - at. all. times.  There is no going to bed angry.  We cannot both be in a funk at the same time - one must always be the cheerleader for the other based on who is the funkiest.  We are required to make each other laugh daily.  If we are stopped at a red light, we have to kiss.  We must constantly dream big dreams for our littles.  Most importantly, though, we are required to grow old together. 

I hope your day is as full of love as mine is...

Is spring on its way? Hopefully!

We had the most perfectly lovely weather today, it was in the 50's...I am heartened that spring will be here soon and my tulips will make a cheerful appearance before too long.  I am ready to start planning my summer garden, since this summer I will actually be able to participate in the planting and the nurturing (Uriah and Abby dropped the ball big time last summer...).  I have plans for some container gardens and lots and lots of herbs.

In the meantime, we spent the day playing and making cookies and building snowmen.  The warm weather melted the snow just enough that it was perfect for snowman rolling.  Abby informed me that she'd never built a snowman before, so I had to give her a quick lesson on rolling the balls for the body parts and finding some sticks for the arms, rocks for the face and a hat and scarf to top it all off.  I'd say, based on the pictures below, that she did a pretty good job for a first timer.  Uriah said he could see the snowman as he was driving up the street...and although his face had melted off (the snowman's, not Uriah's - just thought I'd clarify.), there nothing like the cheerful wave of blue gloves to welcome the Dad home!

I am pleased to report that Operation: Nap More Than 30 Minutes was a huge success today!  Finn took a 2 hour nap this morning and just a little over an hour nap this afternoon and he just barely made it through his bedtime bottle tonight before he was snoring like an old man.  I guess the fresh air did my sweet boy some good!  More play time outside tomorrow for sure! 

We had the most perfectly lovely weather today, it was in the 50's...I am heartened that spring will be here soon and my tulips will make a cheerful appearance before too long.  I am ready to start planning my summer garden, since this summer I will actually be able to participate in the planting and the nurturing (Uriah and Abby dropped the ball big time last summer...).  I have plans for some container gardens and lots and lots of herbs.

In the meantime, we spent the day playing and making cookies and building snowmen.  The warm weather melted the snow just enough that it was perfect for snowman rolling.  Abby informed me that she'd never built a snowman before, so I had to give her a quick lesson on rolling the balls for the body parts and finding some sticks for the arms, rocks for the face and a hat and scarf to top it all off.  I'd say, based on the pictures below, that she did a pretty good job for a first timer.  Uriah said he could see the snowman as he was driving up the street...and although his face had melted off (the snowman's, not Uriah's - just thought I'd clarify.), there nothing like the cheerful wave of blue gloves to welcome the Dad home!

I am pleased to report that Operation: Nap More Than 30 Minutes was a huge success today!  Finn took a 2 hour nap this morning and just a little over an hour nap this afternoon and he just barely made it through his bedtime bottle tonight before he was snoring like an old man.  I guess the fresh air did my sweet boy some good!  More play time outside tomorrow for sure! 

Welcome, Weekend. How I've missed you.

This week has felt interminably long and I am so happy that it's (almost) the weekend.

Abby tried out for her school play yesterday and I'm certain she will be on pins and needles all weekend wishing for Monday and the results.  We discussed acting as a profession last night, mostly because she brought up the timeless kid question: Why do I even have to learn that stuff?  (and by "that stuff," she means the anatomy they are learning in health class.  Apparently bones are, like, so gross.).  I had to think quick and put a spin on why learning anatomy is beneficial to the future actor: What if you have the opportunity to play a doctor?  Don't you at least want to have an understanding of bones and blood and muscle tissue so that you can more accurately portray someone who deals with that? 

She had to think about it for a minute, but I think that it's slowly starting to sink in that she needs to have a wide base of knowledge if she wants to portray different characters.  The real problem is that she's too smart for her school and she's not being properly challenged.  She's in 6th grade and she has yet to bring home homework, but she's made the Honor Roll all year with straight As.  We'll need to make some changes next year, I think.

{Bohemian Chic | 2.6.11}

Finn can't be bothered to take a bottle or a nap.  It is too much work, and besides, now that he's had a taste of real food (peas, beans, applesauce, peaches, squash, sweet potatoes and yes, even prunes) that's what he'd prefer to eat, not that I can blame him.  I plan to put into effect: Operation Nap More than 30 Minutes this weekend.  Wish me luck...

{Too. Much. Work. | 1.24.11}

We have minimal plans this weekend.  There is a Girl Scout meeting tonight to discuss The Big Trip, so Uriah and I are required to participate in the first part of the meeting (nothing better than spending your Friday night in the presence of 10 screaming, excited, chatty 11 and 12 year old girls.).  I'm hoping it goes quickly, though, because I've been looking forward to a walk around The Plaza tonight to take some winter pictures and enjoy the fresh (not sub-zero temperature) air.  Tomorrow or Sunday (depending on when the light is the best) I am going to take Finn's 6 month pictures.  I attempted on Tuesday, but Little Dude would not smile; he was more interested in his pony and the dust bunnies and napping and wondering where his breakfast was.  Needless to say, Uriah's assistance will be necessary.  But I have some good ideas, so hopefully they turn out the way I'm envisioning.  I'm really mostly just excited for the weather this weekend.  It's supposed to get into the 50s, and I have my fingers, toes and eyes crossed that it will...I am aching to open the windows and air out some of the winter stuffiness.

I hope your weekend is equal parts fun and relaxing...and warm!

This week has felt interminably long and I am so happy that it's (almost) the weekend.

Abby tried out for her school play yesterday and I'm certain she will be on pins and needles all weekend wishing for Monday and the results.  We discussed acting as a profession last night, mostly because she brought up the timeless kid question: Why do I even have to learn that stuff?  (and by "that stuff," she means the anatomy they are learning in health class.  Apparently bones are, like, so gross.).  I had to think quick and put a spin on why learning anatomy is beneficial to the future actor: What if you have the opportunity to play a doctor?  Don't you at least want to have an understanding of bones and blood and muscle tissue so that you can more accurately portray someone who deals with that? 

She had to think about it for a minute, but I think that it's slowly starting to sink in that she needs to have a wide base of knowledge if she wants to portray different characters.  The real problem is that she's too smart for her school and she's not being properly challenged.  She's in 6th grade and she has yet to bring home homework, but she's made the Honor Roll all year with straight As.  We'll need to make some changes next year, I think.

{Bohemian Chic | 2.6.11}

Finn can't be bothered to take a bottle or a nap.  It is too much work, and besides, now that he's had a taste of real food (peas, beans, applesauce, peaches, squash, sweet potatoes and yes, even prunes) that's what he'd prefer to eat, not that I can blame him.  I plan to put into effect: Operation Nap More than 30 Minutes this weekend.  Wish me luck...

{Too. Much. Work. | 1.24.11}

We have minimal plans this weekend.  There is a Girl Scout meeting tonight to discuss The Big Trip, so Uriah and I are required to participate in the first part of the meeting (nothing better than spending your Friday night in the presence of 10 screaming, excited, chatty 11 and 12 year old girls.).  I'm hoping it goes quickly, though, because I've been looking forward to a walk around The Plaza tonight to take some winter pictures and enjoy the fresh (not sub-zero temperature) air.  Tomorrow or Sunday (depending on when the light is the best) I am going to take Finn's 6 month pictures.  I attempted on Tuesday, but Little Dude would not smile; he was more interested in his pony and the dust bunnies and napping and wondering where his breakfast was.  Needless to say, Uriah's assistance will be necessary.  But I have some good ideas, so hopefully they turn out the way I'm envisioning.  I'm really mostly just excited for the weather this weekend.  It's supposed to get into the 50s, and I have my fingers, toes and eyes crossed that it will...I am aching to open the windows and air out some of the winter stuffiness.

I hope your weekend is equal parts fun and relaxing...and warm!

A "Smart Phone" does not, in fact, make someone smart.

I miss the Harvest Gold rotary-dial phone hanging on the kitchen wall of my childhood.  I miss its long twisty cord that stretched all the way to the coat closet across the kitchen.  I miss curling up in those deep, dark closet depths, behind winter coats, smushed between bags of mittens and the yardstick, giggling about the latest Baby-Sitters Club book ("Can you believe that MaryAnne broke up with Logan?") or planning a sleepover ("We can definitely stay awake until 6am!  Who should we hypnotize?"). 

We had that phone forever and that old gold glorious phone never let me down. 

Unlike my cell phone, which gave up its will to live on Tuesday.  Just stopped.  I went an entire day without any communication with the outside world.  Not one text.  Not one phone call.  Finn and I lazed the day away, in relative seclusion, choosing to fill our time with naps and books and Olivia the Pig instead of venturing out to the phone store.  There were no last minute requests to bring home milk or eggs or hooch.  No constant beep of the text.  It was quiet...all day long.

Yesterday, however, I had to drive the baby to school in fresh, slushy snow without the security of a phone in case something happened and I realized just how much I depend on having that constant contact; the security of knowing that if I slip off the road, Uriah and AAA will be there post-haste.  I did not slip off of the road; I did, however, drive like a granny.  It took us 45 minutes to go 12 miles.  Awesome. 

During my lunch, I ponied up and purchased a smart phone, New Phone, I call her, and came to the glaring realization that a smart phone does not, in fact, make someone (read: me) smart.  Yes, I realize that there are instructions as to how to use New Phone, but when it is a struggle to figure out how to make a simple phone call, something is seriously wrong with my world.  Uriah, being a man, loves the challenge of new technology and spent some time last night figuring out New Phone and then telling me what it can and can't do (mostly, what it can do, which is everything but make dinner and change the baby's diaper.).

Today, as I struggle to make sense of New Phone, I find myself wishing for simpler times.  A gold rotatory-dial phone, a roast in the oven because it's Thursday, a new Baby-Sitters Club Special Edition from the book-order.  I find myself wishing for the creature comforts of childhood: chocolate chip cookies after school, the smell of clean sheets on my bed and a reassuring hug from my Mama that this, too, shall pass.  Because I'm a grown-up now, I will have to make due with a phone call this evening, instead of a hug. 

But first I have to figure out how to dial...

I miss the Harvest Gold rotary-dial phone hanging on the kitchen wall of my childhood.  I miss its long twisty cord that stretched all the way to the coat closet across the kitchen.  I miss curling up in those deep, dark closet depths, behind winter coats, smushed between bags of mittens and the yardstick, giggling about the latest Baby-Sitters Club book ("Can you believe that MaryAnne broke up with Logan?") or planning a sleepover ("We can definitely stay awake until 6am!  Who should we hypnotize?"). 

We had that phone forever and that old gold glorious phone never let me down. 

Unlike my cell phone, which gave up its will to live on Tuesday.  Just stopped.  I went an entire day without any communication with the outside world.  Not one text.  Not one phone call.  Finn and I lazed the day away, in relative seclusion, choosing to fill our time with naps and books and Olivia the Pig instead of venturing out to the phone store.  There were no last minute requests to bring home milk or eggs or hooch.  No constant beep of the text.  It was quiet...all day long.

Yesterday, however, I had to drive the baby to school in fresh, slushy snow without the security of a phone in case something happened and I realized just how much I depend on having that constant contact; the security of knowing that if I slip off the road, Uriah and AAA will be there post-haste.  I did not slip off of the road; I did, however, drive like a granny.  It took us 45 minutes to go 12 miles.  Awesome. 

During my lunch, I ponied up and purchased a smart phone, New Phone, I call her, and came to the glaring realization that a smart phone does not, in fact, make someone (read: me) smart.  Yes, I realize that there are instructions as to how to use New Phone, but when it is a struggle to figure out how to make a simple phone call, something is seriously wrong with my world.  Uriah, being a man, loves the challenge of new technology and spent some time last night figuring out New Phone and then telling me what it can and can't do (mostly, what it can do, which is everything but make dinner and change the baby's diaper.).

Today, as I struggle to make sense of New Phone, I find myself wishing for simpler times.  A gold rotatory-dial phone, a roast in the oven because it's Thursday, a new Baby-Sitters Club Special Edition from the book-order.  I find myself wishing for the creature comforts of childhood: chocolate chip cookies after school, the smell of clean sheets on my bed and a reassuring hug from my Mama that this, too, shall pass.  Because I'm a grown-up now, I will have to make due with a phone call this evening, instead of a hug. 

But first I have to figure out how to dial...

Scenes from Storm-Ageddon

I finally got around to taking pictures off of my camera last night.  It's kind of a chore...my OCD tendancies kick into high gear and I have to file everything on the computer a certain way.  It looks a little something like this:

File Folder #1: Heather's Pics
Sub Folder #2: 2011
Sub Folder #3:  Whatever the title is (for example, Storm-Ageddon 01-31-11) 

And then the pictures get uploaded.  Sometimes File Folder #3 will have another sub-folder.  For example, if I get pictures from Emily's camera or Dad's, I will then name that sub folder, Emily's Pics or if I have altered pictures, I put them in a sub folder titled Edits.  It's not rocket science, but it's my way of keeping track of where everything is.  Uriah poo-poos my time-consuming method but I have pictures organized this way on our computer starting in 2007 and it is easy to go back in and find something by date or by event, rather than searching through every picture for a certain year.  I also back up all of my pictures on CDs and they will soon make their way into a fire-proof lock box for safe keeping (I say soon because I haven't gotten said box yet).

I've also started deleting the pictures off of my camera once I successfully upload them into their file.  After Finn was born, I did not delete one picture off of my camera for about 4 months...I was afraid that I was going to lose something or the computer would crash or the CDs would disintegrate into a fine blue powder.  I had to continually scroll through hundreds of pictures (no lie...hundreds...I think I bought the biggest memory card I could find!) just to find what I was looking for or to show someone something. 

Did it matter that I had uploaded those pictures onto the computer? 
No. 
Did it matter that I double and triple checked to make sure I got every single picture off the camera and into a file? 
No. 
Did it matter that the pictures were backed up on disks? 
No. 

I wish I could blame the hormones, but I'm six months removed from all that craziness and I'm still double and triple checking to make sure I got everything off the camera and I'm still holding my breath when I hit the delete all pictures on the camera button.  And, if we're being honest, I did the same thing before I got pregnant.

So now I'm caught up on my picture dumping and my camera is clean and ready for some Valentine's pics of the kiddos, (which needs to happen tonight so I can make cards tomorrow...).  And it's supposed to snow again tomorrow, so I may have to share yet another day off with kids underfoot and not getting to the grocery store and laundry taking 4 times as long as it should. 

Before the next round starts, though, here are some pictures of Storm-Ageddon 2011.  We did not have a bowl-off.  We did, however, shovel the drive and stay in our jams all day and watch movies and shovel the drive some more and eat popcorn and make home-made soup and shovel the drive again and over-all enjoy being stuck in our own little hidey-hole while the world quietly turned white around us.

 
Here's to hoping your Monday is snow-free and this week brings minimal traffic and school delays!

I finally got around to taking pictures off of my camera last night.  It's kind of a chore...my OCD tendancies kick into high gear and I have to file everything on the computer a certain way.  It looks a little something like this:

File Folder #1: Heather's Pics
Sub Folder #2: 2011
Sub Folder #3:  Whatever the title is (for example, Storm-Ageddon 01-31-11) 

And then the pictures get uploaded.  Sometimes File Folder #3 will have another sub-folder.  For example, if I get pictures from Emily's camera or Dad's, I will then name that sub folder, Emily's Pics or if I have altered pictures, I put them in a sub folder titled Edits.  It's not rocket science, but it's my way of keeping track of where everything is.  Uriah poo-poos my time-consuming method but I have pictures organized this way on our computer starting in 2007 and it is easy to go back in and find something by date or by event, rather than searching through every picture for a certain year.  I also back up all of my pictures on CDs and they will soon make their way into a fire-proof lock box for safe keeping (I say soon because I haven't gotten said box yet).

I've also started deleting the pictures off of my camera once I successfully upload them into their file.  After Finn was born, I did not delete one picture off of my camera for about 4 months...I was afraid that I was going to lose something or the computer would crash or the CDs would disintegrate into a fine blue powder.  I had to continually scroll through hundreds of pictures (no lie...hundreds...I think I bought the biggest memory card I could find!) just to find what I was looking for or to show someone something. 

Did it matter that I had uploaded those pictures onto the computer? 
No. 
Did it matter that I double and triple checked to make sure I got every single picture off the camera and into a file? 
No. 
Did it matter that the pictures were backed up on disks? 
No. 

I wish I could blame the hormones, but I'm six months removed from all that craziness and I'm still double and triple checking to make sure I got everything off the camera and I'm still holding my breath when I hit the delete all pictures on the camera button.  And, if we're being honest, I did the same thing before I got pregnant.

So now I'm caught up on my picture dumping and my camera is clean and ready for some Valentine's pics of the kiddos, (which needs to happen tonight so I can make cards tomorrow...).  And it's supposed to snow again tomorrow, so I may have to share yet another day off with kids underfoot and not getting to the grocery store and laundry taking 4 times as long as it should. 

Before the next round starts, though, here are some pictures of Storm-Ageddon 2011.  We did not have a bowl-off.  We did, however, shovel the drive and stay in our jams all day and watch movies and shovel the drive some more and eat popcorn and make home-made soup and shovel the drive again and over-all enjoy being stuck in our own little hidey-hole while the world quietly turned white around us.

 
Here's to hoping your Monday is snow-free and this week brings minimal traffic and school delays!

Cool factor: Zero

Abby told me this week that I have no fashion sense...she told me I dress like a mom.

What does that mean, exactly? 

Is it because I don't wear jeggings (or leggings of any sort, for that matter)?  Or is it because I don't wear skinny jeans?  Or big red earings?  Or headbands with sequins and feathers?  Is it because I don't own anything that is aquamarine or violet or lime green?  Is it because I don't have Justin Bieber's face plastered across my chest (let's face it, nobody's face needs to be plastered across my chest.  That is NOT the kind of advertising they want, I assure you). 

Is it because I wear cardigan sweaters and yoga pants (not usually, but sometimes, together)?  Is it because the color scheme in my closet can be summed up in two words: black and gray?  Is it because I have a giant pair of mom underwear that I use to hid my mom belly?  Is that it?  Is it? 

Oh, the horror.

If you need me, I'll be the mom lamenting her loss of style by self-medicating with a martini.  In my yoga pants.  And a probably a classy cardigan sweater.

Abby told me this week that I have no fashion sense...she told me I dress like a mom.

What does that mean, exactly? 

Is it because I don't wear jeggings (or leggings of any sort, for that matter)?  Or is it because I don't wear skinny jeans?  Or big red earings?  Or headbands with sequins and feathers?  Is it because I don't own anything that is aquamarine or violet or lime green?  Is it because I don't have Justin Bieber's face plastered across my chest (let's face it, nobody's face needs to be plastered across my chest.  That is NOT the kind of advertising they want, I assure you). 

Is it because I wear cardigan sweaters and yoga pants (not usually, but sometimes, together)?  Is it because the color scheme in my closet can be summed up in two words: black and gray?  Is it because I have a giant pair of mom underwear that I use to hid my mom belly?  Is that it?  Is it? 

Oh, the horror.

If you need me, I'll be the mom lamenting her loss of style by self-medicating with a martini.  In my yoga pants.  And a probably a classy cardigan sweater.