Mostly.
Well, I spent every day of last week taking care of K all day and working all evening. Then I worked Saturday and Sunday. I'm not sure I've ever been so grateful for Labor Day, where we can celebrate ironically by doing very little.
Sadly, I think I lost any benefit I got from it by getting sick this evening. On the way home from dinner, no less. I've always had a horror of the idea of throwing up in the car for some reason, which I've never done until today. As it turns out, if you're lucky you'll be driving slowly enough that you can stop and lean out of the car to christen the pavement instead. There was a little...splatter that got on the door, but at least it wasn't on anything cloth and B heriocally cleaned it up when we got home. Bleah.
Tomorrow, we start calling daycare centers. We need one so very badly.
I have about twelve more topical posts running through my head. And one of these days I'd like to write something that sounds cheerful and not tired and whiny. But not today, apparently.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
And...Home!
We are home. I was reunited with B and K on Friday. I missed them both, although K has been such a gigantic, stick in your throat PILL ever since that I'm not entirely sure why I missed her any more.
We had a good time at the wedding Saturday, then hit the road and spent the night in Ohio. We got up this morning, heroically refrained from strapping K to the roof of the car (oh trust me, after the night we had it was a serious consideration) and made it back to Philadelphia by the grace of God and generous lashings of Blues Clues to keep The Beast in check.
Am very tired. And I have to work all week without any daycare. *sob* Am going to go collapse.
We had a good time at the wedding Saturday, then hit the road and spent the night in Ohio. We got up this morning, heroically refrained from strapping K to the roof of the car (oh trust me, after the night we had it was a serious consideration) and made it back to Philadelphia by the grace of God and generous lashings of Blues Clues to keep The Beast in check.
Am very tired. And I have to work all week without any daycare. *sob* Am going to go collapse.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
On the road again
So apparently I'm gunning for Most Sucktastic Blogger of the Year award. In my defense, I was really busy trying to work extra hours last week, so my computer time has all been work time. And then we drove to Michigan.
I'm not sure I even talked much about this trip, but it was a combination of wanting to celebrate my mother's 70th birthday, wanting to get up to B's parents' place to get our wilderness fix and being able to attend a college friend's wedding. This was all planned before I got a second job, however. So I decided that rather than take time off after only a month on the job, I would just continue to work this week. What's the good of telecommuting if you can't commute yourself around? Unfortunately, B's parents only have dialup, and since one thing I'm evaluated on is speed, I shudder to think of what my statistics would look like if I tried to work up there, at the "click on a link, get up to make a cup of tea, go get a book to read" speed of download. But my mother has broadband, so I sent B and K up north for three days while I'm staying with my mother and working.
Oh goodness, even working, it's been glorious. No bedtime wrestling matches, no planning my day around nap time and bedtime. Going to bed knowing that I get to sleep through the night. I've taken two solo vacations with K now, so I've been due for some child-free time. I'm sorry not to have the opportunity to go north, but it's worth it to have the time off.
I'm not sure I even talked much about this trip, but it was a combination of wanting to celebrate my mother's 70th birthday, wanting to get up to B's parents' place to get our wilderness fix and being able to attend a college friend's wedding. This was all planned before I got a second job, however. So I decided that rather than take time off after only a month on the job, I would just continue to work this week. What's the good of telecommuting if you can't commute yourself around? Unfortunately, B's parents only have dialup, and since one thing I'm evaluated on is speed, I shudder to think of what my statistics would look like if I tried to work up there, at the "click on a link, get up to make a cup of tea, go get a book to read" speed of download. But my mother has broadband, so I sent B and K up north for three days while I'm staying with my mother and working.
Oh goodness, even working, it's been glorious. No bedtime wrestling matches, no planning my day around nap time and bedtime. Going to bed knowing that I get to sleep through the night. I've taken two solo vacations with K now, so I've been due for some child-free time. I'm sorry not to have the opportunity to go north, but it's worth it to have the time off.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
feminist...ire...RISING
One of the best purchases I made before we went to Colorado was this toy: the Princess Elise Magnetic Dress-Up Set
It's basically like a dress-up paper doll, only made out of wood with pieces that stay on with magnets. It's been a huge hit, with the added bonus that it's tough enough to stand up a three-year-old's love, which paper wouldn't. It kept K occupied for hours of car and plane time, and it's still a favorite now that we're at home. The only thing I can say against it is that toys with lots of small parts aren't great to bring on airplanes, where you have to contort yourself like a yogi master on acid to pick things up from under the seats (dear airlines, have you ever considered putting a lip on your trays, or even just a tacky surface, unlike the current coating that you seem to have right now, which causes any placed on it to instantly slip like a dog on roller skates on an ice rink?). I think it helped kick-start K's priness phase, but princesses aren't a big deal to me. We just read books like The Paperbag Princess and The Princess Knight and got her a little princess figure that has a horse she can ride around just as well as a knight. Princesses don't have to be all pink ballgowns and helplessness. And since we have a toy castle waiting in the garage for Christmas, I'm just as happy that she's developed an interest in that sort of thing (I have to admit, while I was pretty sure she would like a castle, it was one of those purchases that was as much for my inner ten-year-old as it was for her).
So the princess thing isn't what has my feminist ire up. What got it up was when I decided to see what other magnetic dress-up dolls Melissa and Doug had to offer. And they are:
* a ballerina with various ballet outfits
* a girl with various girly outfits
* two girls with, you guessed it, various girly outfits
* a boy, who can dress up as a police officer, a super hero, a knight, fireman, a construction worker or a pirate
!!!
Surely I don't need to point out the problem here. Apparently girls just dress up in pretty clothes while boys do active things and work in important professions. Really? In this day and age toy companies still send these messages?
Well, okay, I've seen plenty of examples of toy companies sending those messages. But I expect better from Melissa and Doug. I really like their toys; they're creative and well-made, non-plastic and yet affordable. And I guess that although making creative wooden toys gives the impression that the makers are progressive, apparently they aren't. Poking around their store, it's not hard to notice other things, like the fact that all of the pictures of children with products are gender-coded, with boys playing with trains and girls with dollhouses, or that of their puppets, the only one that breaks gender barriers is a female surgeon. The other female puppets are a ballerina, princess, cheerleader and cowgirl, while the male puppets are things like policemen and pirates. Gag.
This is really annoying, because I'd like to get K another magnetic doll, but all of the choices suck. I suppose I could get the boy doll and just give K the outfits to put on her princess, but I'm not sure I want to support this with my money. I'll probably still buy other Melissa and Doug products because they're so good, but I'm damned if I'm going to buy any products so nakedly sexist.
And speaking of sexist, I have a secondary rant for Target. Alert readers may remember that we had been contemplating building K a play kitchen. But I added up what it would cost, and then discovered that it wouldn't be any cheaper or a better quality than the wooden play kitchen Target sells. And now I'm glad we got it when we did, because I went into Target last week and discovered it had been redesigned. It wasn't significantly different in shape - they had replaced the mini-refrigerator with open shelves and changed the fixtures a bit - but they had changed the color from light blue to pink and white. Great! Way to take a toy that appeals to all children and send the message that only girls cook. Oh! And better yet, the box our kitchen in had a boy and girl on it, and now the box has two girls on it. Feh.
(As an aside to Target, it's becoming increasingly clear to me that you're trying to muscle in on the Melissa and Doug/Plan Toys-type market. I base this partially on the fact that I walked down an aisle today that I thought had M and D toys until I looked closer and realized they were Circo brand. I'm all for you making cheap wooden play food available - the magnetic peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a lunchbox we got has been a big hit; ditto the wooden sandwich. But I bought them because they were 1) a reasonable quality and 2) around five bucks (the pb and j was on clearance; I probably would have paid up to $10 for it). The stuff I saw today was crappy and $15. I'm not going to pay $15 for three lousy pieces of cutting fruit with a banana that's almost square when I can get a cutting food box from Melissa and Doug with eight pieces of food for $20. Or four entire crates of food from M and D for the same price. People will buy crappy stuff if it's cheap, or pay more money for better stuff. But they won't pay more money for crap. Last time I checked, the way big box stores got into a new market was by undercutting the competition, not by producing crappier products for the same price)
It's basically like a dress-up paper doll, only made out of wood with pieces that stay on with magnets. It's been a huge hit, with the added bonus that it's tough enough to stand up a three-year-old's love, which paper wouldn't. It kept K occupied for hours of car and plane time, and it's still a favorite now that we're at home. The only thing I can say against it is that toys with lots of small parts aren't great to bring on airplanes, where you have to contort yourself like a yogi master on acid to pick things up from under the seats (dear airlines, have you ever considered putting a lip on your trays, or even just a tacky surface, unlike the current coating that you seem to have right now, which causes any placed on it to instantly slip like a dog on roller skates on an ice rink?). I think it helped kick-start K's priness phase, but princesses aren't a big deal to me. We just read books like The Paperbag Princess and The Princess Knight and got her a little princess figure that has a horse she can ride around just as well as a knight. Princesses don't have to be all pink ballgowns and helplessness. And since we have a toy castle waiting in the garage for Christmas, I'm just as happy that she's developed an interest in that sort of thing (I have to admit, while I was pretty sure she would like a castle, it was one of those purchases that was as much for my inner ten-year-old as it was for her).
So the princess thing isn't what has my feminist ire up. What got it up was when I decided to see what other magnetic dress-up dolls Melissa and Doug had to offer. And they are:
* a ballerina with various ballet outfits
* a girl with various girly outfits
* two girls with, you guessed it, various girly outfits
* a boy, who can dress up as a police officer, a super hero, a knight, fireman, a construction worker or a pirate
!!!
Surely I don't need to point out the problem here. Apparently girls just dress up in pretty clothes while boys do active things and work in important professions. Really? In this day and age toy companies still send these messages?
Well, okay, I've seen plenty of examples of toy companies sending those messages. But I expect better from Melissa and Doug. I really like their toys; they're creative and well-made, non-plastic and yet affordable. And I guess that although making creative wooden toys gives the impression that the makers are progressive, apparently they aren't. Poking around their store, it's not hard to notice other things, like the fact that all of the pictures of children with products are gender-coded, with boys playing with trains and girls with dollhouses, or that of their puppets, the only one that breaks gender barriers is a female surgeon. The other female puppets are a ballerina, princess, cheerleader and cowgirl, while the male puppets are things like policemen and pirates. Gag.
This is really annoying, because I'd like to get K another magnetic doll, but all of the choices suck. I suppose I could get the boy doll and just give K the outfits to put on her princess, but I'm not sure I want to support this with my money. I'll probably still buy other Melissa and Doug products because they're so good, but I'm damned if I'm going to buy any products so nakedly sexist.
And speaking of sexist, I have a secondary rant for Target. Alert readers may remember that we had been contemplating building K a play kitchen. But I added up what it would cost, and then discovered that it wouldn't be any cheaper or a better quality than the wooden play kitchen Target sells. And now I'm glad we got it when we did, because I went into Target last week and discovered it had been redesigned. It wasn't significantly different in shape - they had replaced the mini-refrigerator with open shelves and changed the fixtures a bit - but they had changed the color from light blue to pink and white. Great! Way to take a toy that appeals to all children and send the message that only girls cook. Oh! And better yet, the box our kitchen in had a boy and girl on it, and now the box has two girls on it. Feh.
(As an aside to Target, it's becoming increasingly clear to me that you're trying to muscle in on the Melissa and Doug/Plan Toys-type market. I base this partially on the fact that I walked down an aisle today that I thought had M and D toys until I looked closer and realized they were Circo brand. I'm all for you making cheap wooden play food available - the magnetic peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a lunchbox we got has been a big hit; ditto the wooden sandwich. But I bought them because they were 1) a reasonable quality and 2) around five bucks (the pb and j was on clearance; I probably would have paid up to $10 for it). The stuff I saw today was crappy and $15. I'm not going to pay $15 for three lousy pieces of cutting fruit with a banana that's almost square when I can get a cutting food box from Melissa and Doug with eight pieces of food for $20. Or four entire crates of food from M and D for the same price. People will buy crappy stuff if it's cheap, or pay more money for better stuff. But they won't pay more money for crap. Last time I checked, the way big box stores got into a new market was by undercutting the competition, not by producing crappier products for the same price)
Thursday, August 7, 2008
This has got to be some sort of record
In a couple of weeks, we are about to be without daycare again.
This time, the provider got offered a job she couldn't refuse with her old employer, and she wasn't making enough money with child care, so it wasn't much of a choice. I will give her credit for at least giving us some lead time on this - we have until the end of the month - unlike the others who more or less shoved us onto the curb without warning.
I'm choosing to see this as a blessing in disguise. For one thing, I think I will just tell her that next week will be our last week and then we won't have to pay for the week we're gone on vacation. But I had also been having some buyer's remorse, thinking that maybe we should have tried to get K in a more preschool-like environment. At the time, I just wanted someplace, but I think it would have paid to look around a little at some centers instead of home-based daycares. So this is a chance to find a preschool of some sort.
But still, this is the THIRD daycare in a YEAR. All I want to do is pay people money to watch my child. Is that really so unreasonable?
Sigh. At least K wasn't there long enough to get attached.
This time, the provider got offered a job she couldn't refuse with her old employer, and she wasn't making enough money with child care, so it wasn't much of a choice. I will give her credit for at least giving us some lead time on this - we have until the end of the month - unlike the others who more or less shoved us onto the curb without warning.
I'm choosing to see this as a blessing in disguise. For one thing, I think I will just tell her that next week will be our last week and then we won't have to pay for the week we're gone on vacation. But I had also been having some buyer's remorse, thinking that maybe we should have tried to get K in a more preschool-like environment. At the time, I just wanted someplace, but I think it would have paid to look around a little at some centers instead of home-based daycares. So this is a chance to find a preschool of some sort.
But still, this is the THIRD daycare in a YEAR. All I want to do is pay people money to watch my child. Is that really so unreasonable?
Sigh. At least K wasn't there long enough to get attached.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
The next step
I called to renew some prescriptions the other day and discovered something interesting: my primary care physician is no longer with that practice. It would have been awfully nice to be told that the gatekeeper of our health care was no longer available, but on the whole, this is good news. Remember how I was uncertain about her competence? I've been feeling like I need to go back to the doctor again to talk about my PCOS meds, and I was avoiding it because I didn't want to deal with her, even long enough to say "I want to be referred to an endocrinologist."
So we need to call up our insurance and figure out who our doctor is, but once that happens, hopefully it will be someone with half a clue. Ever since switching to the extended release version of metformin last year, my weight has been slowly creeping up and now I'm starting to get some more PCOS symptoms back, even after upping my meds. Aargh. I'm hoping just switching back to regular metformin will fix this.
One particularly unwelcome symptom is increasingly funky cycles. I've had two relatively normal (probably) ovulatory cycles and one weird-ass (probably) ovulatory cycle. But now I'm on what is shaping up to be a weird-ass non-ovulatory cycle, dammit.
So I'm hoping that the new doctor will have half a clue. But if they don't, I'm going to demand a referral to an endocrinologist. As I was thinking this, it occurred to me that the most efficient thing to do is go to a reproductive endocrinologist. After all, they would probably be the best at treating syndromes that cause infertility like PCOS, and if these funky cycles continue for a few more months, I'm going to end up at one anyway. It just seems like a monumental step. We haven't been making a huge effort towards conception yet - we've been waiting for B's union to agree on a new contract with the city so we don't wind up pregnant and on strike, as well as taking a couple months to see what my cycles do. And my ob prescribed the clomid that got me pregnant last time, so I've never been to an RE. For some reason, the idea makes me nervous.
I suppose a lot of the problem is that I would just like the problem to be that I need to change my meds, and that will fix everything and let me accomplish pregnancy on my own for once. Because regardless of whether or not I get pregnant, I've had over five years largely symptom-free and I'd like to go back to that. Controlling PCOS isn't just an infertility issue, it's a whole-body health issue.
So we need to call up our insurance and figure out who our doctor is, but once that happens, hopefully it will be someone with half a clue. Ever since switching to the extended release version of metformin last year, my weight has been slowly creeping up and now I'm starting to get some more PCOS symptoms back, even after upping my meds. Aargh. I'm hoping just switching back to regular metformin will fix this.
One particularly unwelcome symptom is increasingly funky cycles. I've had two relatively normal (probably) ovulatory cycles and one weird-ass (probably) ovulatory cycle. But now I'm on what is shaping up to be a weird-ass non-ovulatory cycle, dammit.
So I'm hoping that the new doctor will have half a clue. But if they don't, I'm going to demand a referral to an endocrinologist. As I was thinking this, it occurred to me that the most efficient thing to do is go to a reproductive endocrinologist. After all, they would probably be the best at treating syndromes that cause infertility like PCOS, and if these funky cycles continue for a few more months, I'm going to end up at one anyway. It just seems like a monumental step. We haven't been making a huge effort towards conception yet - we've been waiting for B's union to agree on a new contract with the city so we don't wind up pregnant and on strike, as well as taking a couple months to see what my cycles do. And my ob prescribed the clomid that got me pregnant last time, so I've never been to an RE. For some reason, the idea makes me nervous.
I suppose a lot of the problem is that I would just like the problem to be that I need to change my meds, and that will fix everything and let me accomplish pregnancy on my own for once. Because regardless of whether or not I get pregnant, I've had over five years largely symptom-free and I'd like to go back to that. Controlling PCOS isn't just an infertility issue, it's a whole-body health issue.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Happy anniversary to us!
It is our 8th wedding anniversary today. Eight years, which seems like no time at all and forever at the same time. Some of the years absolutely sucked, but it was never because of us.
B took the day off today and I'm still involuntarily on vacation (this server outage at work has moved from "pleasant unexpected mini-vacation" to "my paycheck is going to take a big hit, dagnabbit"), so we shipped the kid to daycare and hit the movies.
We saw Mamma Mia, a choice originally made because I was afraid that Dark Knight would give me nightmares if I saw it on the big screen and I wasn't sure Mummy 3 was worth the money to see in the theatre. But it turned out to be absolutely the right choice: lots and lots of fun and an enjoyable romantic flick perfect for an anniversary. If you like musicals and ABBA, it's worth seeing.
The thing that struck me about it while I was watching was how remarkably body positive it was. While there were certainly a decent share of nubile young things and hardbodies dancing around the screen, the real stars of the show were three women in their mid-50s, dancing and celebrating their sexuality without a single hint from the movie that this might somehow be ridiculous. Meryl Streep is always magnificent, but it has to be admitted that she's not Hollywood's female ideal anymore. Middle-age spread has set in and there are definitely plenty of wrinkles there. But watching her dance around like she's 20, it's easy to see why she could still have three men chasing her. Of her friends, one has had work done, but she isn't either lauded or condemned for it - she has an entire beach of young men pursuing for her, but again, the idea of that is considered entirely natural. Even the shortest and frumpiest of the trio who is normally relegated to comic-relief sidekick status, is allowed to be sexy and desirable.
In an industry where the normal procedure is to hire actresses in their mid-30s to play mothers to a 20-year-old and 45 is considered the most ancient of old age, it's just so refreshing to see a movie cast women who are frankly a little old for the characters, since my impression from the movie is that the main character was quite young (early 20s?) when she got pregnant with her daughter, now 20.
The movie itself? The frothiest bit of fluff that ever flirted with a wisp of plot. No substance there at all. But it's a musical based on ABBA music, after all. Any sort of plot would just sink like a lead weight among the clouds of bubbles that are the music. But the casting spoke volumes.
We saw Mamma Mia, a choice originally made because I was afraid that Dark Knight would give me nightmares if I saw it on the big screen and I wasn't sure Mummy 3 was worth the money to see in the theatre. But it turned out to be absolutely the right choice: lots and lots of fun and an enjoyable romantic flick perfect for an anniversary. If you like musicals and ABBA, it's worth seeing.
The thing that struck me about it while I was watching was how remarkably body positive it was. While there were certainly a decent share of nubile young things and hardbodies dancing around the screen, the real stars of the show were three women in their mid-50s, dancing and celebrating their sexuality without a single hint from the movie that this might somehow be ridiculous. Meryl Streep is always magnificent, but it has to be admitted that she's not Hollywood's female ideal anymore. Middle-age spread has set in and there are definitely plenty of wrinkles there. But watching her dance around like she's 20, it's easy to see why she could still have three men chasing her. Of her friends, one has had work done, but she isn't either lauded or condemned for it - she has an entire beach of young men pursuing for her, but again, the idea of that is considered entirely natural. Even the shortest and frumpiest of the trio who is normally relegated to comic-relief sidekick status, is allowed to be sexy and desirable.
In an industry where the normal procedure is to hire actresses in their mid-30s to play mothers to a 20-year-old and 45 is considered the most ancient of old age, it's just so refreshing to see a movie cast women who are frankly a little old for the characters, since my impression from the movie is that the main character was quite young (early 20s?) when she got pregnant with her daughter, now 20.
The movie itself? The frothiest bit of fluff that ever flirted with a wisp of plot. No substance there at all. But it's a musical based on ABBA music, after all. Any sort of plot would just sink like a lead weight among the clouds of bubbles that are the music. But the casting spoke volumes.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Dilatory
It's been a long week. If I had been smart, I would have taken the Monday after getting home to my vacation time, so I wouldn't have to jump right into taking care of K all day _and_ having to get four hours of work in immediately after getting back from vacation. But apparently I'm not that smart.
As a result, I've been working for the past twelve days straight and I was getting pretty strung out. But luck struck Thursday night when the website I use to do all of my work turned up its toes and died. So instead of working at the museum all day on Friday and then going home to work another four hours, I got to go home and do nothing at all, with the blessing of my bosses. Oh what bliss. And we had a nice lazy day today with a forecast for another lazy day tomorrow. I plan to become one with the couch and perhaps melt a bit.
****
Three is definitely a trying age. But it's also excessively cute, as K's verbal skills are finally to the point that she can really let us in on the things she's thinking. Tonight at dinner, for example, I was informed that there was a cat living in her apple. Apparently the inside of her mind is a deeply weird place.
And oh, the cute phrases, which slay me on a regular basis. There's bunnyhop for rabbits and dino-roars for dinosaurs (accompanied by a roar, of course). Recently pigtails were christened pony ears. In case the etymology is a bit murky, I had asked her if she wanted a pony tail, and she said no, she wanted pony ears. If you think about it, it's actually a much better name than pigtails, given that pigs don't generally have more than one tail unless they live next to Springfield Nuclear Power Plant.
****
Wednesday was the Anniversary, one year since my father died. I suppose it was good that it was a busy day, which meant I didn't even remember what day it was until noon. I felt out of sorts and frazzled, but I didn't have time to let myself wallow. I called my mother that evening and she had had a busy day as well. We had a good talk about our theologies of misfortune (short version: neither of us is fond of the "it's all God's plan" approach).
He is missed, and he will always be missed. But we're slowly rebuilding our family life around the hole. We laid him to rest in a place that he loved, and if he can't be with us, I'm glad his new home is as beautiful and peaceful as this.
As a result, I've been working for the past twelve days straight and I was getting pretty strung out. But luck struck Thursday night when the website I use to do all of my work turned up its toes and died. So instead of working at the museum all day on Friday and then going home to work another four hours, I got to go home and do nothing at all, with the blessing of my bosses. Oh what bliss. And we had a nice lazy day today with a forecast for another lazy day tomorrow. I plan to become one with the couch and perhaps melt a bit.
****
Three is definitely a trying age. But it's also excessively cute, as K's verbal skills are finally to the point that she can really let us in on the things she's thinking. Tonight at dinner, for example, I was informed that there was a cat living in her apple. Apparently the inside of her mind is a deeply weird place.
And oh, the cute phrases, which slay me on a regular basis. There's bunnyhop for rabbits and dino-roars for dinosaurs (accompanied by a roar, of course). Recently pigtails were christened pony ears. In case the etymology is a bit murky, I had asked her if she wanted a pony tail, and she said no, she wanted pony ears. If you think about it, it's actually a much better name than pigtails, given that pigs don't generally have more than one tail unless they live next to Springfield Nuclear Power Plant.
****
Wednesday was the Anniversary, one year since my father died. I suppose it was good that it was a busy day, which meant I didn't even remember what day it was until noon. I felt out of sorts and frazzled, but I didn't have time to let myself wallow. I called my mother that evening and she had had a busy day as well. We had a good talk about our theologies of misfortune (short version: neither of us is fond of the "it's all God's plan" approach).
He is missed, and he will always be missed. But we're slowly rebuilding our family life around the hole. We laid him to rest in a place that he loved, and if he can't be with us, I'm glad his new home is as beautiful and peaceful as this.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Hey, look at that - it's been a week since I posted last. A very very long, tiring week, mostly spent in front of the computer. I think in a week or so we'll have our new schedule down and get our groove back, but this past week has kicked my butt. I think the two main factors were 1) the early-morning meeting I had to get up for on Wednesday, which added an hour of work to my day and thereby required me to add an hour of work to the evening instead, and 2), the lack of daycare on Friday combined with K's 20 minute nap, which meant I had to do all four hours Friday night, keeping me up a lot later than I wanted to be given that I had to be at work early the next morning. It wasn't helped by K pulling her famous "wake up as I'm going to bed far too late and keeping me awake for the next two hours, keeping me up until it's technically morning to some people" trick.
If parsing that sentence is making your eyes cross and giving you seasickenss, let me sum up: I'm busy, and oh so tired. But it's probably going to get better next week as we work out the new schedule.
******
I hesitate to say this, but I think we're finally making real progress in the potty arena with K. For most of the last week, if K has been bare-bottomed, she will of her own volition go over to the potty to pee (there was even a memorable moment last week when she took her diaper off so she could use the potty). She's not perfect yet, as our damp floor can attest, but we were 3 for 4 yesterday. We're going hardcore at the moment, with no diapers on at home except at nap and bedtime. I'm hoping with another week of consistent progress, I'll feel confident enough to try taking her out of the house in training pants.
Does anyone have any advice on making the transition to using the toilet outside the house? Reason? Bribery? Trickery? Do a voodoo ritual? Or just steel my nerves to do it and bring extra pants?
If parsing that sentence is making your eyes cross and giving you seasickenss, let me sum up: I'm busy, and oh so tired. But it's probably going to get better next week as we work out the new schedule.
******
I hesitate to say this, but I think we're finally making real progress in the potty arena with K. For most of the last week, if K has been bare-bottomed, she will of her own volition go over to the potty to pee (there was even a memorable moment last week when she took her diaper off so she could use the potty). She's not perfect yet, as our damp floor can attest, but we were 3 for 4 yesterday. We're going hardcore at the moment, with no diapers on at home except at nap and bedtime. I'm hoping with another week of consistent progress, I'll feel confident enough to try taking her out of the house in training pants.
Does anyone have any advice on making the transition to using the toilet outside the house? Reason? Bribery? Trickery? Do a voodoo ritual? Or just steel my nerves to do it and bring extra pants?
Monday, July 21, 2008
Home
K and I arrived home to the hot soup of Philadelphia yesterday evening, tired but happy to be home. The trip was fun, if emotional at times and I'm happy we went. But merciful heavens, I'm tired. Daycare tomorrow can't come soon enough. I'm working Saturday and Sunday at the museum next weekend, so my next day off where I'm not either working or doing solo childcare doesn't come until nearly two weeks from now. *weeps*
I suppose the best way to sum up the trip is by category:
Colorado
We lived in Boulder for six months when I was five and my father was on sabbatical. At the time, I was hugely impressed that we could see the mountains from our house, which I didn't quite realize that everyone else in Boulder could do as well.
And really, it hasn't changed. You can bop around Boulder, seeing the landscape that's a bit dry but pretty similar to the Midwest, until you turn your head to the right and: whoa, mountains. It's simply gorgeous out there. We drove into Rocky Moutain National Park the first day, and while mountain driving of the hair-pin curve, roads on sheer cliffs which don't necesarily have barriers type freaks me right out, you can't argue with the view. Short of sticking your thumb in front of the lens, you just can't take a bad picture out there.
Boulder itself is a lovely little city, the epitome of the best a university town has to offer. I would love to live there if not for the high cost of living.
Relatives
My father's brother lives in Boulder, along with his son and grandson. We also have a great-aunt and cousins living in Fort Collins (the wife and descendants of my grandfather's brother). We got to see quite a lot of my uncle, which was lovely, and a bit of my cousin and his son, who is 13. I haven't seen him since he was about six, but he was a very sweet little boy and has stayed a sweet teenager so far. K absolutely worshipped him and he paid a lot of attention to her.
We only got to see the great-aunt and more distant cousins at the wedding, which meant we didn't get to spend much time talking to them. That was a shame - my father always said they were his favorite relatives, and I can see why. They're just about the nicest people in the world. Kind, welcoming and they're all things like social workers and kindergarten teachers. My Great Uncle David clearly had the right idea when he married Great Aunt Doris, because they had some fantastic kids together.
At the wedding, I was watching people and asked my brother if he had ever wondered what it was like to grow up actually knowing your relatives well. We grew up 1000 miles from one set of relatives and 1500 from the other, and all of our cousins were significantly older than we were. I think that's why we tend to forget how much we fit in with my father's family. We've spent more time with my mother's family, but when we spend time with the Atkinson side, it suddenly becomes clear where our sense of humor comes from, as well as our geekery.
Dad
We wound up spreading Dad's ashes in Boulder Creek, standing on a bridge and sprinkling them into the fast-flowing water below (and narrowly avoiding someone floating by). He spent part of his boyhood in Boulder and it's a place he loved, so it feels like an appropriate place. It was sad, especially coming so close to the one-year anniversary of his death, but it was good for us to pass that milestone.
It was odd spending time with my uncle. He looks and sounds very much like my father did, and they have many of the same mannerisms. I didn't realize how much it was hitting me until we went to a Panera for dinner and when my uncle came by with his food, I was momentarily shocked that he had so successfully navigated the menu and ordered his food. The ability to read menus was something that Dad lost fairly early on, and it became automatic for me to step in to help him in restaurants. I guess old instincts die hard.
Solo parenting
Well, I spent the week with my child virtually glued to my side (including sharing a bed) and I mostly didn't gnaw my foot off. She did pretty well on the plane and in the category of small mercies, she didn't wake up at 6am every morning despite the time change. One nice thing about her getting older is that I could ask my mother's aide to watch her for short periods without much guilt, since once she's dressed and has a clean diaper, she doesn't need much active supervision beyond preventing her from playing with knives. I also discovered how nice it is to have other people around, since K really enjoyed going into my mother's room to hang out. It makes the idea of a multigenerational house seem pretty good.
It was a good trip, but I'm awfully glad to be home.
I suppose the best way to sum up the trip is by category:
Colorado
We lived in Boulder for six months when I was five and my father was on sabbatical. At the time, I was hugely impressed that we could see the mountains from our house, which I didn't quite realize that everyone else in Boulder could do as well.
And really, it hasn't changed. You can bop around Boulder, seeing the landscape that's a bit dry but pretty similar to the Midwest, until you turn your head to the right and: whoa, mountains. It's simply gorgeous out there. We drove into Rocky Moutain National Park the first day, and while mountain driving of the hair-pin curve, roads on sheer cliffs which don't necesarily have barriers type freaks me right out, you can't argue with the view. Short of sticking your thumb in front of the lens, you just can't take a bad picture out there.
Boulder itself is a lovely little city, the epitome of the best a university town has to offer. I would love to live there if not for the high cost of living.
Relatives
My father's brother lives in Boulder, along with his son and grandson. We also have a great-aunt and cousins living in Fort Collins (the wife and descendants of my grandfather's brother). We got to see quite a lot of my uncle, which was lovely, and a bit of my cousin and his son, who is 13. I haven't seen him since he was about six, but he was a very sweet little boy and has stayed a sweet teenager so far. K absolutely worshipped him and he paid a lot of attention to her.
We only got to see the great-aunt and more distant cousins at the wedding, which meant we didn't get to spend much time talking to them. That was a shame - my father always said they were his favorite relatives, and I can see why. They're just about the nicest people in the world. Kind, welcoming and they're all things like social workers and kindergarten teachers. My Great Uncle David clearly had the right idea when he married Great Aunt Doris, because they had some fantastic kids together.
At the wedding, I was watching people and asked my brother if he had ever wondered what it was like to grow up actually knowing your relatives well. We grew up 1000 miles from one set of relatives and 1500 from the other, and all of our cousins were significantly older than we were. I think that's why we tend to forget how much we fit in with my father's family. We've spent more time with my mother's family, but when we spend time with the Atkinson side, it suddenly becomes clear where our sense of humor comes from, as well as our geekery.
Dad
We wound up spreading Dad's ashes in Boulder Creek, standing on a bridge and sprinkling them into the fast-flowing water below (and narrowly avoiding someone floating by). He spent part of his boyhood in Boulder and it's a place he loved, so it feels like an appropriate place. It was sad, especially coming so close to the one-year anniversary of his death, but it was good for us to pass that milestone.
It was odd spending time with my uncle. He looks and sounds very much like my father did, and they have many of the same mannerisms. I didn't realize how much it was hitting me until we went to a Panera for dinner and when my uncle came by with his food, I was momentarily shocked that he had so successfully navigated the menu and ordered his food. The ability to read menus was something that Dad lost fairly early on, and it became automatic for me to step in to help him in restaurants. I guess old instincts die hard.
Solo parenting
Well, I spent the week with my child virtually glued to my side (including sharing a bed) and I mostly didn't gnaw my foot off. She did pretty well on the plane and in the category of small mercies, she didn't wake up at 6am every morning despite the time change. One nice thing about her getting older is that I could ask my mother's aide to watch her for short periods without much guilt, since once she's dressed and has a clean diaper, she doesn't need much active supervision beyond preventing her from playing with knives. I also discovered how nice it is to have other people around, since K really enjoyed going into my mother's room to hang out. It makes the idea of a multigenerational house seem pretty good.
It was a good trip, but I'm awfully glad to be home.
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