Today I ate an egg for lunch. And an egg for snack. I think Easter Eggs were a torture device created for parents who refuse to waste food. I’ve only got about 10 left to go. Will I make it to the end, people? Or will the Easter Bunny defeat me this year?
‘Round here, Monday is “Ma’maw Day” and Wednesday is “Mommy Day” for Alison. We swap kids on those days so that we both have some alone time with each of the girls.
I love Mommy Wednesdays, because it gives Alison and I some time to really talk and have fun with no other distractions. Typically we go to lunch after school, run errands, go visit friends and find something fun to do. Here are some of the best quotes from today:
In response to the question, “Do you want to get your hair cut after lunch?”
“No, I want to grow it to here (gesturing). I want it long like Hannah Montana”
After losing her pink balloon from Red Robin (always with the Red Robin!):
“Please change this music, Mommy. I can only like to listen to sad, slow songs right now.”
As I reach for a piece of bread out of the bag:
“No, Mama! Only KIDS can feed the ducks. Grown ups just WATCH.” (Complete with eye roll).
In response to the question, “What did you do at school today?”:
“At recess, me and A. and S. played ‘Bad Girls Club’.”
To which I responded, a little incredulously, “Whose idea was THAT?”
“Mine. Cause Daddy watched Bad Girls Club last night, and I watched it with him.”
And finally:
“My tummy hurts right here (pointing). I think there’s a baby in there. Probably a boy baby so Daddy can have a new friend.”
Saturday I bit the bullet and got my hair done. I was well, well past the 6-8 week mark, and it showed. I wanted to try something *new* so I took my sister’s advice and called her stylist, Khyan. She just moved to a new salon and I was so impressed with the architecture and design of the space that I only took one or two pictures of my actual hair getting done.
~Here is Khyan’s work station. It’s all made out of plywood, 2×6’s and 4×4’s! Behind my head there is some artwork they have strung on clothing wire along the back wall. I took some pictures of that too~
~This one you have to look at sideways because I can’t figure out how to rotate in this program. Those are skylights and rafters, in case you’re getting a crick in your neck, and the blue things are pulleys with yellow extension cords hanging down to each work station. You pull them if you need one, and retract when you’re done! I thought this was just about the coolest contraption, ever.~
I went with an angle bob and I have no idea if that is actually the name, but it’s what Sheila called it when we went for lunch after(Pronto: panini for me, salad and polenta fries for her) and so, it’s an angle bob. Jeremy likes my hair LONG, and I like it SHORT, so I go back and forth a few times a year. He says the angle bob makes me look younger (but not TOO young) and sexy. I’d say that makes it a winner! But I can always hack of the longer part if I change my mind.
~I’m totally talking and gesturing to Alison in this picture, which she took, but it’s the best one of the hair. I’m willing to take one for the team every once in awhile! At least the picture is not of my butt.~
You all remember the poop? Well it was joined by the vomit, and they both ruled this household ALL DANG WEEK. Fortunately Blythe was the only one actually doing any poopin’ (well, you know – everyone poops but I’m talking about projectile pooping) and vomiting but the rest of us got to console her and manage to live here with the stench. By Thursday afternoon she was just a sad little pathetic mess, and I decided I’d better get her to the doctor. She lost almost 3 pounds (!!) in just 9 days, so we had to go over to the hospital and get some IV fluids.
Let me tell you, people, I have never been so traumatized as to hold down my 10 month old baby while they try over, and over, and over again to find a vein. Here’s how the conversation in my head went, “Please God, I will never again complain about how many times my kids wake me up in the night if you will just let them find a vein. Please, please, please”. And then when they finally found one in her foot (the second location tried, the first one being her left hand) it went like this, “Oh God, thank you, I will keep my promise, I sure will.” And then when the vein blew and Blythe’s blood squirted all over the hospital bed, it went like this, “Oh God, that was so mean. Are you kidding me, here? Ok, I promise I’ll never again complain about how often I have to deal with poop in a day. Will that do? Please, God, please, please, please”. And in the meantime, Blythe is crying her head off, and looking me right in the eye as she screams, “MAMA!”. She doesn’t understand why I’m letting these people strap her down and poke her, and all I’m doing petting her head, drying her tears and saying, “Mama’s here”. What kind of consolation is THAT? They finally found a good vein in her right arm, and we spent another 4 hours entertaining each other on the hospital bed before she got released.
I think one of the worst parts of PPD is how you don’t really connect with people when you’re in that state. Over the past couple of months since I’ve started getting better, I’ve bonded pretty well with Blythe. But those 4 hours when we HAD to sit on a bed together with nothing to distract us… I must say, we connected in a way we never had before. Every day since then, we’ve spent some quiet time, just the two of us, bonding. So through all of that, and the ensuing bruises she sported with her little pink Easter dress today, there was some good in the end.
Dear Mail Lady Postal Carrier,
I’ll get right to the point and say, I know I’ve been a difficult customer and I don’t mean to be. I can understand why you might have sensed some hositility from me, what with me getting upset with you for honking your horn like you were stuck in a New York Traffic Jam every time you came here to deliver a package. It’s just that I have a baby who takes a nap every afternoon, and you have a knack for showing up just a few minutes after she’s fallen asleep. I meant it when I said I didn’t mind coming to you to get the package if you would kindly honk only once. But you must have misunderstood. I didn’t mean I’d come to the post office. I shop online to avoid dragging my kids all over town and if I have to go to the post office every time I get a package, it kind of defeats the purpose. I would have talked to you directly about it, but you seemed to be avoiding my driveway. So, sorry if I got you in any trouble when I complained to your supervisor. Oh, and then, sorry if I got you in trouble, again, the following week. But when I told your supervisor it was OK with me for you to leave packages on the sidwalk so you didn’t have to walk the 10 feet to my door, I kind of expected you to place the package on the sidewalk. Do you have a second career as a paper delivery person? ‘Cause you totally nailed the sidwalk at, what, 15 miles per hour? Or was it more like 20? I tried to flag you down, but you must not have seen me in the rear view. Don’t worry though, those crystal vases were double insured, so no harm done.
Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for any misunderstanding there may have been, and ask you to help me locate a package I’ve been expecting. I ordered some Girl Scout Cookies from my friend Tana’s daughter back in January, see. I got a box for the kids, a box for my husband, and a box or 6 for myself. I even lost a few pounds in anticipation of eating those boxes guilt-free when they arrived. Tana emailed, oh, about 3 weeks ago and said she’d be mailing them out. Every day, I trot down the the mailbox. As yet, there is no package. I’d ask Tana to clarify the mailing date, but she went to Las Vegas for the week because she’s a fabulous photographer, and I just know she wouldn’t up and leave without sending me my ‘scout cookies. And I probably could have waited for her return. It’s just that… it’s almost the end of March and ‘scout cookies, as you may know, only come around once a year.
I spotted some brown flecks that had a hint of chocolatey, minty goodness to them on my phone bill yesterday. I may or may not have licked it (for clarification purposes) to be sure. And, mail lady, postal carrier, there is only one person who could have been dropping thin mint crumbs on my mail. If you surrender the rest of the boxes on the door step, maybe we can be friends.
Sincerely Yours,
Andrea