7 Quick Takes (Vol. 12), Epic "Fail" Edition

1. What? People with blogs are supposed to update them? Huh? I have to occasionally write stuff? That people might want to read? Who knew?

2. So, I've been busy. Doing what, you ask? Well, let's start with swim lessons for little C. Actually, she's not so little-- she's growing like a weed these days. The first 3 (of 8) swim lessons were roughly akin to having someone pull out all of my hair, strand by strand, then hot-glue each one back on. I know... it was THAT fun. To illustrate what I'm talking about, there was actually one day where my dear, sweet daughter ran out of the ENTIRE pool facility, through two gates, and across a bridge that goes to the parking lot, pursued by her swim instructor. Lessons 4-7 actually made moms ask me what I did to my child to inspire such a positive turn-around (I left H with a sitter, took C to the pool for an hour, and made her do everything her class had been learning in the first 3 lessons. Oh, and I bribed her with M&M's). I've chosen to block lesson 8 out of my memory, because we has a slight (ha!) regression in the progress we'd been making.

3. I should know by now, but if I'm going to get big expectations about how wonderful an anniversary dinner will be with my hubby (Happy 5 years several weeks ago, M!), I should probably not: bring the kids, who will try to crawl under the table; plan to use a gift card loaded with tons of money that apparently expired TWO years ago (how did I miss that? Oh yeah... I had a newborn BABY and a toddler); make the plans to go out over the phone with my hubby as he's driving home in terrible traffic after he's had a rough day; do this on a Friday after a rough week when I'm exhausted and cranky myself. We're planning a romantic do-over at some point soon, without the kiddos.

4. These "Quick Takes" are anything BUT quick. FAIL on my part. :-)

5. Suddenly, I'm having diaper rash issues with our cloth diapers. Out of nowhere. H's diet? Too much acid from orange juice (not that he's drinking any more than he used to)? His bladder control is increasing, so when he does pee, it's in greater quantities and therefore more soaking occurs? Gotta get a handle on this, because the past 10+ months of using these having been successful, and I'd like to continue with them for the next few months before I start potty-training with him.

6. I've started making homemade salsa on a regular basis. I'll have to type up the recipe because it's soooooo easy and delicious. The other day I was cleaning the fridge and threw out a few containers of old homemade marinara sauce (I went through a phrase where I experimented daily with making marinara sauce differently each time to find a perfect one, since M and I have different opinions on what a good marinara sauce tastes like). I dumped a HUGE container down the drain and then realized... what I was smelling wasn't basil and oregano, but cilantro. Yep, I tossed my best batch of salsa yet. Ugh. And since it's hubby's favorite snack when he gets home from work, and I have no cilantro or peppers in the fridge now, I can't make more until I hit the grocery store.

7. The biggest FAIL is that I've let these disappointments get me down-- I've focused on the things that have gone wrong lately and missed all of the amazing things going on. More about the good things next week! Back to playing with kids and cleaning for the weekend.

My closet is Hell, Take 2

** Checking out the links to previous posts is vital to understanding this story.
  
Back in April of 2008, we had been living in our current home for just a few months. It was a wonderful time-- we'd moved here when C was just a few days old and I was getting used to the routine of being a new mom in the first home that was "ours" (since M had been living for years prior to our marriage in the home I moved to when we married) and the weather was nice enough that C and I could really get out and get acquainted with our new town.

That happy little time ended abruptly on April 3, 2008. No longer was my home a sanctuary-- it became a battleground, and I was determined to win the war. As an interesting aside, this is the time that I became buddies with Jen from Conversion Diary. When I typed in "Hill Country" and "scorpions" into Google, she came up (and at her old blog name, Et Tu?, nonetheless!). She helped talk me down from the wall. No, scratch that-- I wouldn't go anywhere near a wall since I was worried about scorpions. I slept with the lights on and at least one eye open at all times.

Anyway, the number of scorpions we've found inside has greatly diminished with each year (note: yes, I've just called down the wrath of the Scorpion gods, which definitely exist. I've seen them, but I'm taking my chances for the sake of telling this story). In fact, we've only seen 2 inside this year-- one itty-bitty baby smaller than my pinky fingernail, and one too dumb to run from a shoe. Hopefully they're getting smaller and stupider.

However...

Actually, I should have said HOWEVER. It's a big however. A REALLY BIG however.

HOWEVER, today my closet once again became the most fearsome place in our home. We've been noticing a few ants in our bathroom, where our closets are located. It started out being around 2 or 3 large ants a day, then progressed to 5 or 6 a day, then finally to 3 or more every time we went into the bathroom. I'd seen a couple up high in my closet, on and around the huge box that stores my wedding dress (happy 5 years to us!), and had squished them by hand. I decided to take everything out of my closet and then have M spray the entire thing top to bottom, to make sure I wasn't harboring any criminals ants somewhere deep in the closet. When I took out the dress box, I read the note on top that says you should shake out the wrinkles from your dress every year or so, so it doesn't develop permanent creases. My actual dress and veils (yes, I had 2...) are wrapped in muslin and boxed up, and then that box is nested inside the outer box.

As a removed the inner box from the other box, about 10 ants came out. Singing that girl is POISON... to myself, I zapped the little beasts. Only 1 ant on my actual dress (whew!) and only a few on the inner box. And no, I didn't spray my dress. I'm not THAT crazy.

THEN, I noticed a couple of ants coming out of the big box. A couple turned in 10... 20... 50... 100. I nuked them all.

THEN, I got the brilliant idea of turning the box over and shaking it. 200... 300... including eggs. UGH!

THEN, I got the brilliant idea of turning the box over AGAIN and shaking it AGAIN and FILMING THE CARNAGE so that my husband would feel sorry for me and take me out to dinner this weekend or something.   :-)

My voice is about 3 octaves higher than normal here. LOL  Check out all that bug spray. Yes, I was wearing nitrile gloves. And shoes. And I probably needed a mask. Now I need to stop blogging about the horror and go mop it up. I cleaned up all of the dead bugs but need to get the poison up before my kids decide to play in it or something.

The ONE good thing about this: they were ants, and not scorpions. I'd have burned the box and dress in about 2 seconds flat, likely causing a major wildfire, ending up on the news, and going to jail.

Radio silence and thoughts on migration

I've been quiet over here. Really quiet.

It's not for lack of thoughts and things to write, or even lack of time. It's more about a swirling eddy of thoughts and ideas tangled like marionette strings tossed into an old trunk. And a slight lack of time, of course. That's just a given, considering I never get on the computer when my husband's at home, and he's had some nice holidays from work recently.

The real world news has depressed me to the point that I hesitate to turn on the news or read the paper online. From Arnold's betrayal to Anthony Weiner's idiocy to the heartbreaking trial concerning Caylee Anthony's death, my heart aches over the pain that has been caused for families, especially since all of these events involve innocent children (the New York Times just reported that Rep. Weiner's strikingly beautiful wife is pregnant). I'm certainly not immune to sin (don't we all wish we were, though?), but the layers-upon-layers of lies that each of these represents just astound me-- and certainly remind me how our actions in life have reverberations that can damage and destroy the lives of others when we act on our selfish desires and aim for self-preservation and self-promotion at all costs.

Sigh. Moving on...

I've always thought it amazing that so many animals know exactly when to migrate, and where to migrate, and where to find safe havens along the way. Each year, Texas-- particularly my own town in the Hill Country-- is awash with Monarch butterflies in both the spring and fall. The hummingbirds have been hanging around for a month or so now. I'm not surprised at all now though, because I've witnessed a nightly migration in my own home.

Sometime back in April or May, we moved the kids from separate bedrooms into one room- C's room. C has slept in a twin bed since she was around 2 or 2 1/2-- it was around the time she was potty trained. H is still in a crib, so I just moved that into C's room.

Sidenote: This was the fourth time that I have taken down and then set up a crib entirely on my own. I always tend to do major projects when M is at work or out of town. I get this crazed instinct to rearrange everything when he's not around to calm me down. Yes, I am woman... hear me roar.

The room-formerly-known-as-H's-room (which was formerly known as the guest room/office) is now known as the guest room/playroom. I got kind of crazy (see sidenote) when M was out of town a few moths ago and started grabbing all of the kid-items (which had burst out of C's room in a desperate attempt for freedom in the living room... and kitchen... and the master bedroom... and the master bathroom) and tossing them into H's room. I liked the way things looked so much that I went ahead with rearranging major furniture so that the kids could room together and the toys could safely be corralled in The Playroom. Yes, I think of it in capital letters now.

Anyway, back to the migration story.

Nearly every single night, at sometime between 1 am and 3 am, C leaves her bed (in pitch blackness), treks down the hallway, through the living room, into our room, around the bed, and climbs in next to me. Half of the time I have no idea she's even getting in bed with us anymore, and the other half of the time I'm only semi-conscious of the fact. With the kids sleeping in the same room, I'm hesitant to put her back in bed (if I actually notice she's climbed in with us) because I don't want her to wake H. It's always interesting to wake up and see what gifts she has dragged along with her sleepy self-- her puppy blanket(s), random stuffed animals, a book or two, costume jewelry, games. We never quite know what she'll decide needs to move into our room with her as part of the relocation package.

So what do we do? Keep allowing the migration to occur? Will it stop by the time H is old enough to migrate as well? Put her back in her bed (or The Playroom) if we notice she's arrived with her entourage? Just relish the fact that she still adores us enough to want to be with us, and think back fondly on these times when she's 13 and thinks we're the meanest parents ever? Wear her out during the day to the point that she's physically unable to make the migration because she's so exhausted? Or just be glad that when she migrates she doesn't make Mexico or Canada her final destination?

Best (free!) gift you can give a new mom

Call me. Anytime.

The caveat is that you HAVE to mean it. I'm talking 100%, I-don't-care-if-you-call-at-3:24-a.m.-and-I-was-up-with-a-sick-toddler-last-night, totally-sincere kind of meaning it.

The most wonderful thing anyone ever told me as a new mom came from my friend, J. We were fellow Girl Scout camp counselors and were bridesmaids in each other's weddings. Most special for me is that I was her Confirmation sponsor when she became Catholic!  After I had C, J told me...

CALL ME. Any time of day or night, if you're happy, sad, or scared or just need to talk, CALL ME. If you feel alone or need to talk about babies or anything but babies, CALL ME.

J's second son is just 1 month older than my daughter, so we were frequently nursing our children at night at the same time. I made the late-night call a couple of times, but just knowing that I COULD make the call made all the difference.

When Lauren adopted her sweet little girl, I told her the same thing that J had told me when I had my first child. Since I was up at night, off-and-on, nursing H (and e-mailing quick little notes back and forth with Leila-- hi, Leila!), I knew that no matter what time Lauren called, it was unlikely that I would be in a deep sleep. This free "gift" completely paid off when she called me late one night.

In this economy, sometimes the best gift you can give is your time and attention. And even better, this gift can be "recycled" and passed to someone else next!

Lisa's big, official announcement... Updated with answer

 It's time to make a big announcement to the world!

Ok, so not so much of an announcement as a multiple-choice exam with answer to follow later.

In January, I am going to:

A. Move to Rome with my family for the next 3 years.

B. Give birth to baby #3.

C. Run a half-marathon with my best friend (and Godmother of H, who is pictured above).

We made up our own 5K back in 2005 in honor of the conclave to elect a new Pope. I'm not saying we had anything to do with the successful election of Pope Benedict XVI in just 2 days and 4 ballots... but I wouldn't rule it out. :-)

So... guess away. I'll tell you by tomorrow.

UPDATE: The answer is... C! My best friend (D) and I are doing a half-marathon in January. I wanted to make an official announcement in order to motivate me to keep getting out 3 times a week to train. Thus, any plans for "B" have been put on hold until after the race because I'm so excited to have this as a goal in my life now for health, weight, and personal-sanity reasons, and "A" is always a future possibility, just not on that time frame. D and I are both doing the C25K program (that I said I was going to start back in October, but just actually committed to in May...) and I'm in LOVE with the iPhone app for it. It tells you when to run and when to walk! I play the Beach Boys Pandora station for motivation and the C25K app interrupts it to alert me when to get moving or slow down. In addition, I use the free Runkeeper app to track my distance, speed, and route. You can even talk on the phone and still hear the C25K app telling you what to do, without the other person on the phone hearing it. 

Don't ask me how that works. I totally don't get it. I guess it's because the person on the line doesn't hear anything that from my earpiece, just through the mouthpiece. Hmm. Modern wonders, these newfangled gadgets!

Blogger meet-up!

The week before Easter, I made plans for TWO blogger meet-ups. One of them has been more than a year in the making, and the other one was much more recent.

Jen from Conversion Diary and I have been trying to meet up FOREVER (ok, for just over a year. But it seems like forever). One of us always has to cancel because of life or kids or weather or scorpions. Ok, not really that last one. We are bonded by the scorpions and would likely enjoy trying to annihilate one together. Once again our plans were thwarted-- I left for Fort Worth (I pass her home along the way) two days later than planned because H came down with an ear infection and was having a beastly time dealing with it, and when I DID head her way, she had a sick child to deal with as well. Curses- foiled again! We're now aiming for this summer.

But... I got to meet someone else that I've been hoping to meet for a while, especially given the fact that she lives not far at all from my parents' home!

Faith Makes Things Possible... Not Easy ("Faith" from here on out) and I made plans to meet up for breakfast. I had the advantage of having been to this particular little diner before, so at least I wasn’t going in totally blind. I had to laugh at myself as I was getting ready that morning, because, as I told my mom, it felt like I was getting ready for a first date! I had gotten a haircut the day before, wore a brand new shirt, and wore more make-up than I usually do—I even wore eye liner and blush, something that rarely (if ever) happens these days. I arrived a few minutes early, and as I sat there, I started freaking out a tiny bit and wondering what was going to happen if we had nothing to say. Then I reminded myself about our texting exchange the day before and calmed down:

Me: Perfect. I’ll see you at 8 am. I’ll be the one in the ball gown and up-do. And the tiara, of course. ;-)

Faith: Hmm, I was thinking swimsuit but that might be underdressed considering your ball gown… I’ll have to decide later I guess! See you then!

Anyone who can come right back with that HAD to be normal… or at least as normal as I am.

Any concerns I’d had were completely relieved when we started talking. I don’t know how long we were there, but it was somewhere between an hour and two hours. Not only was it not awkward, but it was GREAT. And EASY.  We have a couple of friends and acquaintances in common (and we went to the same university, though I was out of there by the time she arrived, and she was gone right before I started my Masters degree!), but found about a thousand other things to talk about. And, she can vouch for me about the diaper clutch I use as a purse—it’s the cutest bag ever. I had to laugh when she commented on it, because I had just been telling someone else the story the day before about how I’ve yet to go a day where someone doesn’t comment on it, if I’m out and about.

It was so much fun that, just like if it HAD been a blind date that went well, I called her a few hours later on my way out of town, just to tell her how much fun I had. I can’t wait to visit with her again when I’m up that way with family. It’s nice to have gone from “fellow bloggers” to friends.

Isn't she adorable? Don't judge me for the overuse of eye make-up and the EXTREME close-up. It's harder than you'd think to take a pic of yourself using a Nikon D90 with a long lens. And, yes, Faith is smiling in the photo, which cracked us up, since she's hiding her face like she does on her blog. I seriously could not stop laughing long enough to snap a photo.

Thanks for meeting with me, friend! I had a great time and you can reassure your grandma with the knowledge that I wasn't a serial killer/rapist. Whew. :-)

Irony

C told me that her class read one of the Duck and Goose books at Mother's Day Out today. I asked her what it was about:

"Ferastation."
"Fairy Stations?"
"No, FlustaSTAtion."
"Fluster Stations?" (C starts crying at this point)
"NO. FUSTATION."
"Ohhhhh... frustration. Got it."

And while that could have been a great teaching moment to help her learn how to deal with frustration, I was too busy laughing.