Who Are You People?

I have been blogging for about 15 months now and I am still curious as to who reads this blog and why. I have determined that there are about four categories of visitors.

1. Those that are related to me. Hi Mom and Dad! In not so shocking news, my family reads my blog everyday. While they would love to see a new post seven days a week (yes, I know that you check the blog several times a day looking for an update), they would be content with a new picture and story of LP. They don't care so much when I babble about non-LP issues.
2. People that know me personally. It seems as if my most popular entries for these folks tend to be when I do something stupid like put my pants on backwards or say something catty about mutual acquaintances.
   
3. Other working parents. I don't know how you all found me, but welcome! I take this to mean that you don't have to have met me to enjoy reading about my many misadventures and opinions; this makes me feel warm and fuzzy. I am probably more fabulous on the blog anyway. It is for you, general parent public, that I write about parent politics, being a working mom, and the joys of pregnancy.
   
4. The randoms. These are folks that I figure are looking for something else and up my little ole blog pops. The most common keywords used to find this site are Les Zombies Et Les Loup-Garous. Because a year ago I wrote about the translation. Some of these random folks come back and bless us with their presence, but most of them figure out that I am not for them and quickly scurry away.
   

Regardless of how you found me, or why you are here, I am certainly glad to have you. I do wish I had something smart and witty and appealing to say to everyone so I could post multiple times a day, but, alas, my life really isn't that exciting. I am guessing most of you have figured that out by now. Anyway, feel free to send me a comment or shoot me an email if there is something you really want to hear me wax poetic about. Otherwise, keep checking in (several times daily if you feel compelled) for updates.

You Look...Round(er)

People are more curious than ever as to the gender of Bun. When I was only a few months pregnant, people were content with my response that we were having "a baby!" Now I think people are starting to get pissed off.

It is not like the Hoos and I know if the baby is a boy or a girl and are refusing to tell people. We (okay, I) chose not to find out (and the Hoos went along for the ride). The ultrasound tech respected our decision and even though we continue to speculate about what we may or may not have seen during my 20-week ultrasound and read into everything that she said, we really don't have a clue.

When I was pregnant with LP I would say that about 75% of the people I encountered told me I was having a boy. They based this on the way I was carrying, the dimple on my chin, the consistency of my hair...you name an old wives tale and it would be bastardized to determine the sex of my Bump.

This time around people are comparing me to last time, "You are carrying differently, it must be a boy!" or "You are carrying the same, it is a girl!" or "You don't look as spectacular as you looked last pregnancy, you know what they say, boys steal your beauty." Gee, thanks.

The only nice comment I got was that I appear to have less back fat than last time, making Bun a boy. I don't care what the sex is, but I am psyched that my back looks less fat. Or maybe my bras just fit better.

The One Where I Am an Imbecile

So it is now 2:45 in the afternoon. I just got back from what must have been at least my third trip to the ladies room. And it wasn't until this trip that I realized that MY PANTS WERE ON BACKWARDS.

In my defense, I wear maternity pants. They have belly bands. It is not like the zipper and button were on my back. But I have noticed all day how there was a seam running up my belly. I just tried to write it off as a fact of maternity clothes. But no, I can't blame my black Gap trousers. I am a moron. At least for today.

Wenderina, I am sure you are disappointed that you weren't in the office to laugh at me in person. You probably would have noticed and steered me right!

A Day Without LP is Like...

About two months ago, the Hoos and I booked my in-laws to babysit LP overnight for this past Saturday. Our actual request was "Do you have any free Saturday nights coming up during which you would want to watch our most beautiful, well-behaved daughter?" and the 22nd happened to be available.

We didn't have any events we had to attend, there was nothing special planned, we just figured we might as well get in a few last date nights before we welcome Bun into our home. Because finding someone (even relatives) to babysit for a newborn and a toddler simultaneously...is probably not going to be easy.

We went out for a nice relaxing dinner and then went to the $4 movie theater and saw National Treasure 2. The movie wasn't great, but it didn't really matter. Truth be told it was nice to have some time to concentrate on myself and the Hoos. I didn't have to duck flying food, pick stuff up from the floor, order something that I thought might be amenable to a toddler, or conduct any diaper sniffing. And then, when we returned home from the movies around 10:30, I still had enough energy to sit like a lump on my couch and enjoy ice cream with my hubby.

Sunday morning I probably woke up around 8, but I didn't actually move until 9:15 or so. Shortly thereafter the Hoos said, "Do you want to get up or should I?" My only response, "Why?" Because, really, what need did I have to get out of bed? I could take a leisurely shower later, eat breakfast whenever I wanted and without sharing, and in general not feel guilty about being lazy.

We found out later that LP slept until 9:30 at my in-laws' house, but I will not curse their good fortune. In fact, I will use it as an "argument" when I need to convince them or my parents to babysit again (not like they need much convincing). When you have a toddler that sleeps until 9:30, who can complain?

During the day on Sunday the Hoos and did a whole bunch of random activities. We were both able to accomplish things we needed to without feeling guilty that the other person had their hands full. It is very rare that we can undertake different activities at the same time (except during nap time). I did laundry, went to the grocery store, and watched some basketball. The Hoos worked on his kayak (still a work in progress in the basement) and installed a new smoke detector in our bedroom (I offered moral support and played the important role of being prepared to knock him down if he got electrocuted). One of the best parts was taking a stroll around our neighborhood together. It was nice to get to walk and hold hands. I can't even remember the last time that happened.

Of course, both the Hoos and I missed LP. We were very excited to see her, and she us, when we picked her up later that day. It is true, everything is better with LP and I can't remember life before her. Some time apart definitely makes me appreciate just how full my life has become since I became a mom.

More Obnoxious than Me!

You know sometimes when you think there couldn't be anyone on the planet more obnoxious than you? Let me re-introduce you to the director of LP's day care center. After all of Wednesday "fever" drama, she ended up being just fine yesterday. The Hoos took her temperature (rectally) before leaving the house and it was 97.6 or some such low number.

When he dropped her off at 8:50 she was in good spirits and ready to play (okay, she cried a little, but neither of her favorite teachers were there yet). Around 2:15 I got a call at work just letting me know LP had an incident. She fell on the playground and scraped her nose, but otherwise she was doing just fine. In fact, she was napping and had been since 1. (The incident happened around 11 and it took them 3 hours to call me, but I am not going to go there).

When I picked LP up around 5:15, Mr. George handed me her daily communication sheet. You know the one that tells me what she ate, when she pooped, how much she slept, etc. Crossed out on the bottom of the sheet was this line "8:55, Left Ear, 96.9". ARE YOU F*ING KIDDING ME? They didn't trust the Hoos when he told her she had no temperature? They had to check? And they waited until he was probably already on the highway to do it so they could REALLY piss him off and call him right back and tell him to get her?

The day care director is not a parent. The fact that she would even think I would send my daughter to school if she was ill is ridiculous. I don't want my baby to suffer or not get the comfort she needs and deserves when she is sick. Really lady, I don't want her near you at all...

Red, Hot and Blue

First, congratulations to my sister-in-law, Neese (as LP calls her), who is getting sworn in as a U.S. citizen today. She is a great friend, a wonderful mother, and a patient and understanding wife. I am glad we both married into the same family and thrilled that she managed to successfully run the immigration bureaucracy gauntlet.

Now that I have the pleasantries out of the way, I want to lodge a complaint about LP's day care that made me hot under the collar (see the tie in to the post title?). Yesterday at 4:18, the Hoos called me at work, "I just had a call from Jodi [one of LP's teachers]. She has a 100.1 fever and you need to pick her up within an hour." Well, considering I leave work at 4:30 and usually pick LP up by 5:15 that wasn't going to be a problem, but ONE HUNDRED POINT ONE?! That is not a fever. That is the temperature little kids get when they run around a lot or when they are teething or upset or pretty much any time they get excited.

As I left work, I turned to my colleague Kiki and said, "If they tell me that LP can't come to school tomorrow because of this fever I am going to be pissed." Sure enough, I get to LP's school and they have two notes for me to sign - one is an incident report, telling me that another kid bit LP's hand and she has a red welt and another with the health policy telling me she can't come in for 24 hours. I was not happy and had the poor teacher call the director (one of my most favorite people ever) into the room.

"Crissy, are you kidding me? That is not a fever - did they take it with the ear thermometer? After they were playing or something? And why were they taking it in the first place? She looks fine now, was she red or holding her ears or something?" She looks at me blankly and says, "That is our policy, any fever over 100 and they have to go home and stay home. They are most contagious when they have a low-grade fever."

Brittany, a high school student that helps out in the classroom in the afternoon pipes us, "We took her temperature because I noticed her crying while she was reading a book." So, instead of picking her up and comforting her (I forgot to ask how long this was after she had been bitten, hello, maybe that is why she is CRYING), they decided to pick her up and take her temperature. Now I am really steamed. The director asks, "Well, what is her temperature now?" and holds out her hand for a thermometer. After figuring out that the classroom doesn't HAVE a thermometer on hand she stomps out of the room and returns a few minutes later with a thermometer. 99.1 in one ear, 99.2 in the other. "Okay, for today, I will let you take her temperature at home tonight and tomorrow morning. If she doesn't have a fever she can come in tomorrow. But our policy is and has always been over 100, they have to stay out."

I am relieved but still want to throttle her. I AM A GOOD MOM - IF MY KID IS SICK, I WOULDN'T SEND HER TO SCHOOL.

Welcome to the U.S., Neese. I am sorry to report that this country has a lot of morons. Fortunately, people like you help to maintain the needed majority of smart, successful, capable citizens.

Who Needs $, We Got Love!

As I waddle ever closer to the impending arrival of Bun, I am forced to initiate the process of requesting short-term disability. For those of you not lucky enough to live or work in a state where short-term disability is mandated by state law, I apologize in advance if my complaining makes me sound ungrateful.

As we all know, there is no federal or state law requiring maternity leave in the United States. The Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA) which Congress thought was a gift to women, passed in 1992, and provides some job protections for persons who must take time off for medical reasons; it does not include a salary replacement benefit. Because, really, when you have a new child, who needs money? Your home is now full of joy and love and piles of diapers. More dirty diapers than you could have ever possibly imagined (or even remembered if this is your second, or third, or eighth child.)

You can take comfort in knowing that after 10 weeks of bonding with your newborn you can return to the job that you left and resume getting paid. Your paycheck looks glorious, even after you notice that it is a bit smaller because you have to repay the medical deductions that you missed making because you weren't drawing a paycheck during the previous 10 weeks while you were home recovering, not sleeping, and caring for the future of our planet.

I am being overly dramatic - at least for my situation. In fact, I intend to take off almost 16 weeks of work, knowing that the majority of that will be unpaid. Mine is a two income family, and, if we needed to, we could maintain a nice lifestyle even on one salary. But consider the situation of a single parent who makes an hourly wage; or even a two income family not as fortunate as my own. Ten weeks without pay could be considered an eternity and not an option.

Also, since I work in New York my employer is required to provide 50% of my salary after one week of being "disabled" for up to 26 weeks through short-term disability (STD) insurance. I won't even go off on the tangent of how labor and delivery is considered a disability (is parenthood an 18-year short-term condition or something?). With a vaginal delivery, STD covers 6 weeks. Well, five weeks of partial pay after the one week waiting period. During that one week you either don't get paid or use sick leave/paid-time off (PTO)/vacation. A double-edged sword because yay! you get income, but you don't have any PTO when you return to work. Who needs PTO when you have a newborn with a barely developed immune system in day care?

Love is all we need people. A little love from Congress in recognizing the importance of requiring employers to provide paid maternity and paternity leave...

Where is the F*in Instruction Book?

LP is a wonderful, beautiful, smart, perfect little child. Except when she isn't. Last week I blogged about her mooshing up tortellini and spreading it all over the floor, like Tinkerbell, sprinkling fairy dust on the inhabitants of Neverland. Apparently my daughter thinks she is Tink, because this behavior has not stopped.

Even better she likes to draw our attention to her destructiveness when at all possible. She called me into the living room from the kitchen yelling out "milk!" so that I could see how she had taken a gulp of milk and spit it out on our living room rug and (relatively new) loveseat. Unfortunately the old standby threat of "just wait until your father gets home" doesn't really work either. Last night she confounded the Hoos by spitting out water, medicine, and milk all within an hour of each other.

It isn't that she doesn't like any of these things, rather it is just that she likes to get a rise out of us. Typically she just laughs if we yell at her. My strategy is to surprise her and remove her from the situation by grabbing the cup (or whatever) out of her hand, picking her up and firmly placing her down elsewhere. I thought maybe just the jolt of the world changing so quickly would snap her out of her nuisance mode, but she could care less.

I know they say that a lot of toddler's behavior is testing boundaries and acting out for attention (like when she took my shoes off yesterday afternoon by calmly and deliberately removing the laces), but what do you do when the child HAS your undivided attention and still does these things anyway?

Just Because

Recently we have taken some fun pictures of LP, so I figured I might as well share...

Putting on her own coat

Chilling in the front yard.

Tying flies with Daddy. He will make a flyfisherperson out of her yet!

A Tea Party

LP is supposed to be napping. For the last 25 minutes I have listened to her having a tea party in her crib. Apparently "Nma" and "Papa" (my parents) are in attendance alone with Baby and Moo.

As adorable as this is, it has me worried for when we attempt to move her into a bed in the next few weeks. I have a feeling that once LP has the ability to roam - even if we somehow can confine her to her bedroom - she will take advantage of it. She will read books, play in the closet, empty her dresser drawers, pretty much do anything except sleep during nap time.

LP is not one of those kids that tuckers herself out and falls asleep wherever she happens to be. When I see kids peacefully resting in their strollers as their parents shop in the mall or walk around the block, I am envious. My daughter would rather push herself to stay awake and go without a nap then risk missing any of the action. She only sleeps in three places - her crib, the car, and her cot at day care. Seriously, she won't even ENTER our bedroom if she wakes up before 8 on a weekend and we want to sleep in. The Hoos and I have resorted to leaving her chilling with Baby and Moo in her crib until one of us can drag ourselves out of bed (usually closer to 8:30).

If she falls asleep in the car, even briefly, she will wake up refreshed and rejuvenated and give us a really hard time about going back to sleep if we try to transport her to her crib to add more time on to the fifteen minutes she snoozed in the car. At day care she is often the last kid standing. She will lay on her cot and read a book well after all of the other kids have dozed off. Poor Mr. George has spent the entire 2-hour nap time rubbing her back in hopes she will fall asleep to no avail.

My hope was to have LP in a bed well before Bun arrives. Not that we have purchased a bed yet (at this rate she will be testing out a twin mattress on the floor of her bedroom). The back up plan is borrowing an extra crib from my brother and sister-in-law for as long as we have to after the new baby arrives in the event that the transition is unsuccessful. I guess if she starts skipping naps she will be so exhausted at bed time she will have no choice but to collapse. Right?

A Genuine Genius?

It continues to amaze me how much LP picks up from the world around her. We can say a word once and she might repeat it back right away. Or she might hold on to it and use it again - appropriately - when the time is right. Some examples:

• If she sees that the bird feeder is empty, she will say "seeds", put on her coat and pick up the 10 pound bag of seed and attempt to walk out the door with it.
  
• Last weekend we took her temperature (rectally) a few times since she seemed to have a cold. Later in the day she pulled a chair up to the counter, got the thermometer down and attempted to take Baby's and Moo's temperatures (again rectally)...after feeling their keppes (heads) and telling us they felt hot.
• Pulling the blanket over her head and calling out "Nooooo" when the Hoos tries to get her up in the morning. And when he says "Do you want to stay in bed?" and she responds "N...Yessssssss."
  

And then there are some times that I am just not sure what she is thinking...

In case you couldn't tell from my post yesterday, I wasn't feeling great. I was tired, cranky, and have a cold. To say my butt was dragging by the time I got home at the end of the day would have been an understatement - more like, I needed a forklift to drag my butt around.

As I tried to get LP to eat some dinner, she was either challenging me at the wrong time (acting her age) or trying to lift my spirits (acting wise beyond her year). Maybe to her taking a mouthful of water from her sippy cup and slowly spitting it out all over herself is some hysterical new comedy routine? And perhaps asking for more tortellini and when I return to the room with a new plateful, spitting out a chewed one and them mooshing it up in her hands and sprinkling it all over the floor is performance art?

Another day of mommyhood. And yet I am still loving every minute of it.

I Need This

Today I have a couple of things to get off my chest.

To the people who just noticed that I look pregnant. No, it does not feel good for you to say to me "My gosh, you have really popped!" or "You look so much bigger than the last time I saw you!" I AM ALMOST SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT. I LOOK LIKE A PREGNANT PERSON IS SUPPOSED TO LOOK.

To be fair, the Hoos "forgets" that I am pregnant. When I say I am tired or it takes me a few extra seconds to straighten my back out after getting up from playing on the floor with LP, he asks if I am okay. I AM FINE. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ARE PREGNANT. (I know this sounds harsh, but I AM PREGNANT.)

Oh, and to my brain: Dude, it is okay to stop running at times. Because despite the fact that I "went to bed" at 9:30 last night, I did not sleep. It wasn't that you, Brain, were thinking about anything important or any of the items that are making me anxious (like fitting a zillion different plans into one weekend and preparing Bun's room and getting new furniture for LP's room) and coming up with brilliant solutions, rather you just ran in circles about nothing. Thanks for that.

I am still tired and cranky, but now I feel a little better for venting. It also helps that my bunny munchkin loves to give group hugs now and I keep envisioning us having a four-person group hug once little Bun arrives. That will feel good.

Drats! Foiled Again

Last night I was checking my email (I am a bit obsessive compulsive about it) and I had an email from a friend with a job opening at her company. Being eternally curious, I figured I might as well check it out.

Of course, it sounds like the perfect job for me. I kid you not, it combines my past experience, my current work and a whole bunch of my interests and it is about five miles from my house. Can you say frustrating?! Frustrating because I am quite pregnant (28 weeks and counting!) and intending on taking the summer off for maternity leave. Not exactly an employer's dream prospect.

If this job had come around a year ago, or even maybe 5 months ago when I wasn't so obviously pregnant, I would have been all over it like LP on sprinkles. Karma, fate, the winds, I am not so sure they are blowing my way. Or maybe they are...I went to the doctor yesterday and little Bun sounds strong and healthy and I survived the gestational diabetes glucose test without gagging or getting the shakes. I would definitely rather have all of the good energy on my side when it comes to my pregnancy and my kids than my professional development.

As an aside, why is it that little kids love sprinkles? They take more effort to eat than they are worth, they stick to your teeth and they don't even really taste. It must be the pretty colors. This comes up because yesterday LP helped me to decorate a batch of sugar cookies. If you mention "baking" to her, she immediately runs to the drawers in our kitchen, digs out her apron, throws mine at me, and drags a chair over to the counter so she can get to work. It makes me feel really good that she loves to cook as much as I do. Even though this means I am baking about twice a week when I used to do it only twice a year.

A Little Toughie

In lieu of a picture of me and my big old belly, would pictures of a cute little kid that kind of looks like me do?

Note how fabulous she looks in my flip-flops. Not that she can possibly walk in them.

All About Me: Day Two

Since yesterday was all about me, let's make today all about me too. Today, the topic is size.

For those of you that have never actually encountered me in person, and for those of you that have, let me remind you that I stand almost exactly at five feet tall. 60 inches is not a lot. And, keep in mind, I am not one of those tiny, tiny short girls. I am petite, but my hips have proven to be good for breeding, my bosom is ample, and my waist is about the same size as my inseam.

When not pregnant the distance between my breasts and pubic bone is about 7 or eight inches. Therefore, when pregnant there are not really a lot of directions for a baby to grow in. Up and the kid hits my ribs (and this baby hits my ribs and lungs, believe me); down, and well, that's not really supposed to happen until the end of the 40 week gestation period. Bun is growing out. I just measured from under my chest to the bottom of my belly and it is about 13 inches. Good thing my skin was already stretched from LP (ah, stretch marks, how I love thee). Yes, I look like there is a ball in my belly. And yes, there is only one baby and yes, I still have about 12 weeks to go, thanks for asking.

I believe I have mentioned before that seven kids in LP's day care class have become or will become older siblings in 2008. That means there are lots of pregnant moms. The other day the Hoos encountered one, "Aim, is Chloe's mom pregnant?" I confirmed his suspicion. "Um, how far along is she?" When I told him that she was due a few days after I was I could see him trying to hide his shock so I said,"She's tall." He began nodding emphatically, "Yes, she really is tall."

Going Gray

Over the past year or so I have noticed an exponential increase in the number of gray hairs proliferating on my head. It used to be I had one or two that I could pluck out and forget about. More recently I have discovered that there is just not enough time in the day to dislodge every new silver follicle popping up. My hair is naturally brown, with some natural reddish highlights (she says hopefully).

It appears that in addition to the evolving color of my hair, I have the challenge of evolving texture. Being pregnant my hair isn't really falling out. However, my hair never really grew in properly after the fabulous post-partum hair loss I experienced after giving birth to LP. I continue to have short hair in my bang area that like to unattractively swoop and bushy hair on the back of my head that sort of curls/waves up in layers. I can see everyone squinting, trying to imagine just what the heck I am talking about; trust me, it ain't pretty. To the right is a relatively recent picture that still doesn't do the fuzziness justice.

Most of the gray appears to be underneath the top layer - which causes the dilemma of 'do I pony tail and show off the gray? or do I leave it down and show off the fabulous, half-ass curls that arrived along with LP?'

Yes, I have tried to cut it into shape, but I really want to be able to put my hair in a ponytail when Bun arrives. And I tried shorter not too long ago and it doesn't really work with the curly/puffiness that my new hair offers (see this photo). Probably the most likely fix would be to actually put some hair care products into my hair and blow dry it in the morning. And we all know, that ain't gonna happen. What probably will happen are some fabulous new highlights once I pop Bun out. I won't be covering my gray per say, I will just be offering it the opportunity to "be a better you."

Jibber Jabber

LP has become a little chatterbox. I would say that about 75% of the time I know what she is saying. She thinks she is saying something understandable 100% of the time. Last night she stood at the back door and repeated the same sentence at least 5 times, each time more insistently and I could not understand even a single word. All I could figure out was that she didn't want to show me something specific since she didn't push me toward anything.

Some highlights:

1. "AMY!" When "Mommy" doesn't work she yells out my name. I don't think she knows it is my name, I think she believes it means "LISTEN TO ME!"
2. "Lunch" Any time she wants to eat. She can wake up in the morning, look at me and say it; or she can finish eating and want more and shout it. Also, if you mention that it is time for lunch, she will run over to the dining room, climb up into a chair and being lightly pounding the table and calling for it.
3. "I sowy" I blogged about this last week, but she definitely thinks it means excuse me. When she dumped Cheerios all over my car and I told her to say she was sorry she started to cry. When the Hoos' feet are in her way she tells them "I sowy."
   
4. Food terms are also very popular with her. She has "water," "juice," "berries" and "corn" down, in addition to "Cheeries" for Cheerios and "Cakes" and a host of other edible items. I think "cuppy" for cup also falls into this category.
   
5. Body parts. LP can say just about every body part and identify all of them on her own or someone else's body. Daddy doesn't like her pointing to his "Boobies" or "Butt" much, although she does typically say "tush" for her rear and I swear she knows that "keppe" is Yiddish for head.
6. Speaking of other languages, prefers to count in Spanish. And yesterday during "Spanish class" she had everyone cracking up as she very loudly exclaimed "HOLA! ESTA!" for como esta.
7. "Nappies" are blankets and "Baby" and "Moo" are her baby doll and cow. If you ask what Baby's name is she says "Niy" or something that sounds like it. Actually, if you ask her the name of anything she will tell you "Niy". I don't know if that is how she says name or if she just likes it.
8. Her friends. LP talks about all of her school friends at home. And she has already given them nicknames! "Buvy" and "Kate" are abbreviations of the names of two of her little buddies.
   

The list could go on and on. But, really, the best part is actually hearing her say these things. She really is a little muffin.

My Mouth, My Foot: Fast Friends

I have blogged before about how I am a dweller, mentally beating myself up for things that I could have done or said differently. The same post discusses how I am overly empathetic, feeling such empathy or embarrassment for characters in works of fiction that I have to turn away. Yet, despite these acknowledgements, I continue to suffer from foot-in-mouth disease.

A few weeks ago a mom I know that recently miscarried late in her pregnancy approached me with a container of formula, asking me if I wanted it. She caught me off guard, I was in the middle of a conversation, and I must have given her an odd look as I shook my head and said, "No, thanks," thinking to myself that I intend to nurse Bun and really had no need for it at this point. A few seconds after she hurriedly left the room it occurred to me how much more compassionate I could have been. She was just trying to get the free samples that randomly show up in the mail out of her house. I should have just taken the freaking container and chucked it if I didn't want it. Doh! What a crappy person I am. To be honest, I was so thrown off that I didn't even connect all of the dots when she initially asked.

Later in the evening I gave her a call to apologize. I really felt just awful. She was embarrassed, thinking I thought she was offering me the formula for LP, who has obviously outgrown the stuff. I mean, really, how was she supposed to know that I try to exclusively breastfeed. I felt better after talking with her, but I still can't get the episode out of my mind.

I have also blogged about my complete awe of stay-at-home moms. Seriously, these women amaze me. There are dozens of reasons that I couldn't/wouldn't be a full-time stay at home mom and I hold women that take on this charge in the highest regard. Unfortunately, when I encounter one, like this past weekend when we ran into a colleague of the Hoos' and his family, I tend to say something stupid. Instead of saying, "I commend you, I know it is really hard work." I said something like, "I don't know how you do it, I would go crazy." I really don't intend for this to sound derogatory or condescending. In the moment, in my cluttered, sleep-deprived head, they sound identical, but of course, they aren't.

I know that in general it would be smarter to be more thoughtful and contemplative when caught off guard. I should take the time to think about a situation and collect my thoughts before responding. Maybe that will be my "new month resolution".

We Have Babies!

Relax, relax, I have not gone into premature labor. Nor have they determined that there is a twin hidden in my uterus (although some days I imagine I must look like I am carrying twins). Rather, one of our fish gave birth last night.

Over the weekend the Hoos bought some Black Mollies to add to our fish tank. Has was very excited as one of the three he purchased was pregnant and Mollies give live birth, as opposed to most fish which lay eggs. He had them when he was growing up and remembers being thrilled to have baby fish.

Last night while I was in class, he and LP were looking in the aquarium when they noticed that the pregnant female had slimmed down considerably. The Hoos was disappointed that he had missed the actual labor and delivery but even more upset that no babies were apparent in the tank. Apparently the other fish view the baby Mollies as food. All of a sudden LP starts yelling out "Baby! Baby!" and pointing at a rock on the bottom of the tank. Sure enough, after some searching, five little guppies have survived and were hiding out. The Hoos and LP are very excited. Hopefully this bodes well for LP's response to a new human baby in the house.

Cha-Cha-Cha

After a totally disappointing Friday of being stuck in the house as my car was in the shop, the weekend was quite a pleasure. My parents came up on Saturday and spent the afternoon with LP and me. We lunched, she snuggled, we partied like rockstars. That evening my brother-in-law and his family came over for dinner. LP inserted herself into the play of her three exuberant older cousins.

For some reason she follows her older male cousin, O, around like a puppy. When his little brother was playing with a book that LP wanted and she started to cry, instead of running to Mommy or Daddy she ran to O, held her arms up, and said "Uppy!" He obliged and then looked around at the grown-ups, "Now what?"

Sunday the sun was shining, even if the temperatures were not exactly warm and cozy. Looking for an activity that would help LP expend energy, get all three of us out of the house and hopefully help us enjoy the pleasant brightness, we went to the Stamford Museum and Nature Center. We have never been before, and they were having their annual Maple Sugar Festival. It turns out that the Center is a working farm with horses, cows, pigs, goats, sheep, alpacas and a whole host of other animals - including a very entertaining river otter. They also had lots of events and activities - both inside and out. LP especially enjoyed the free popcorn. If you are a local, I highly recommend checking the Center out.

Today was an event I have been anticipating for weeks - our cleaning lady is back! Woo-hoo! She was visiting her family for a month in Slovakia and just returned. She even showed up EARLY at 8:40 instead of 9. Yippeee!!! After greeting her, LP and I packed up and left the house, both to get out of her way and to take advantage of having the car back and run some errands.

Of course, the biggest errand was an unplanned one. WE GOT LP'S HAIR CUT!!! I happened to pass one of the places that specializes in "Kid Cuts" and decided to run in and see if they had any openings. They were able to squeeze us in at 11:45, so after LP and I spent some time running around Barnes and Noble, we went back and sat her cute little butt into a pink Barbie Jeep chair.

She was a very good girl and it only took about 5 minutes for them to complete her cut and take my $25. I know, a total rip-off. If I had known how little they would end up cutting I wouldn't have wasted the money. But, I guess it was worth it since she liked sitting in the car, they put a butterfly clip in her hair that she kept in until we got to the car, her bangs no longer fall into her eyes, she got her picture taken and they gave us a little baggy with her locks. Now I know better and next time we go to our regular haircutter or we do it ourselves. I would take a picture, but you probably won't be able to tell the difference.