Boooo-what?

The Hubby and I were watching PBS this morning with the Child(Could have been afternoon. Its a holiday so the whole day is a blur) . I love most of the PBS for Children programs like "Sesame Street" and "Its a Big, Big World" (a stoner Giant Sloth - Ha!). Having grown up on PBS as a kid I am 100% behind their programming. One program does trouble me, however. Boobah. What the hell is this? We sat there, slack-jawed, watching the brightly colored "Boobahs" dance their little Boobah dance - side, side, across. side, side, up. side, side, across. side, side, up.

(I'm sorry, but to me they look a bit like un-circumcised penises. I know its wrong to think that way, but at least I'm not accusing them of being gay.)

I can handle Teletubies, but I cannot handle this show. The problem: the Child loves it. Loves with a capital L-O-V-E. There is much pointing and smiling on her part when its on while I grimace in pain. Hell, thy name is Boobah.

So if she's going to continue to watch this show - and being the informed parent that I like to think I am - I went to the PBS for Kids website to find out what all the fuss is about. Apparently there is much thought behind this show. Who knew? On the Boobah parents and teachers page they've outlined, quite nicely in fact, the philosophy and the secret of learning with Boobah. I'm sorry I ever doubted PBS. They wouldn't put anything on their channel that wasn't in my child's best interest. I haven't gone through all of the links just yet, but I plan on it. If I'm going to let my kid watch television, especially television that makes me want to gouge my eyes out, I'd like to know what she should be getting out of it. Except the Today show, she can smile at Al Roker all she wants as long as I get my fix of fluffy, morning news.

And, please, if you have a problem with my kid watching television keep it to yourself. But if you, like me, let the television occasionally babysit so you can us the bathroom by yourself, feel free to share!

Its not like I let her watch "Lost".

Much.

Bullseye!

I loved this post over at BloggingBaby. Since the Child was born it feels like I live at Target. I'm drawn to it like a crawling baby to a sharp object. I'm almost ashamed to say this but I'm compelled to go there about once a week. I make up reasons to spend what little money I make on things that I've convinced myself I need. The first outing that I made with my girl, 10 days after having her, was to Target. The Hubby and I packed up our new little bundle of (colic-y) joy and off we went to buy baby wipes and Diaper Genie refills. We didn't really need any but I needed an excuse to get out of the house. After that first successful outing I was hooked.

Like that first visit even if I don't really need anything I'll make up an excuse to go just because I like walking around that store. And its a hell of a lot better than staying home alone with a needy infant. There I see other women who, like me, are toting small babies in their red carriages. We smile and nod at each other and sometimes strike up short conversations. We secretly size each other up (c'mon, you know you do it too): our wardrobes, if the other one has done anything more than run a brush through her hair and swiped on some lip-balm, what's in each other's cart. Its more of an affirmation than a competition. I don't care if the woman I'm in the Baby Food aisle with is wearing sweatpants that look like they belong to her husband. Because, chances are, I was out shopping the week before in a very similar outfit. It feels great to find other women, like me, who need that excuse to leave the monotony of their daily routine and find solace in racks of Isaac Mizrahi clothes, the shelves of Pampers, and the pull of cheap books that will never be read.

For months the need for my weekly Target excursion was my dirty, little secret... until it got brought up by another woman at the Mother's Group that I attend that she, too, spent a lot of time there. Soon every woman in the room was fessing up to bringing their kids to the yuppie Mecca of Discount Stores. These mothers went there when their babies wouldn't nap, or in those desperate hours before their Husbands came home from work. It wasn't to get anything they needed, it was for their sanity. How happy I was that I didn't have to hide in shame anymore. It was like attending an AA meeting, except we weren't giving up our addiction. We were celebrating it.

Are you a Target lover?

10 Months

You're 10 months today, Kid. A big day, you've reached double digits. Pretty soon you'll be paying some guy named Louie to make you a kick-ass fake ID so you can hit the bars with the rest of your diaper posse.




You've made some big strides in your development this past month. Not the least of them is your ability to play pat-a-cake, which thrills your Great Nana to no end. Peek-a-Boo is exciting beyond words. I love teaching you to do new things. Its like having a new little puppy to train. I taught you a new one the other day... You'll now throw your hands over your head when I ask "How big is Julia?" and wait for me to say "So Big!".

And you are getting big. You are a long, lean, diaper wetting machine. The problem is your pants are constantly half-way down your butt because if I buy you clothes that fit your height they'll be too big for your tiny tummy. The fact that you've decided that you'll only eat 6 or 7 different foods on a regular basis might have something to do with your shrinking belly. You will now eat yogurt (pretty much any kind), bagels (actually, starches of any kind except pasta), cheese, bananas, cereal, apples and pineapple (on a good day), Gerber Puffs, and of course Cheerios. Some days I can trick you into eating yams, sweet potatoes, carrots, and squash. Green vegetables are out of the question but yet I keep trying and your keep throwing them back at me. You love going out to breakfast with Mama and Dada because you get pancakes or waffles. And the adoration of the waitstaff.

After much trying you will now drink an ounce or two from a sippy cup before throwing it on the floor and demanding your bottle. You love your bottle time when we snuggle together on the couch. I think you might sense that I'm half-heartedly trying to wean you. Even though you can now hold your bottle and feed yourself from it on your own you still prefer me to feed you. But the weaning is going to happen. You're getting more teeth and I'm tired of being used as a chew toy.

You've learned how to push buttons, so now the remote control, my laptop, the television, and my patience have to be put out of your reach or carefully guarded. And, honey, please stop trying to poke the dogs in the eye. They've been so patient with you, let's not push it. Okay?

You're starting to grasp the concept of language. All of that baby sign language that I've been trying to teach you is starting to pay off. You know the signs for "milk", "eat", and "all done". You know what I mean when I say "Would you like some lunch?" or "Do you want to take a nap?" When you don't know what something is you gesture in its direction and say "Dat?" and when I tell you that its, say, a ball or a mitten you smile and say "Dada". Everything is "Dada". Except when you're hungry or tired or you fell and bumped your head, and then its "Mummummummum." That kills me every time.

I'm amazed at how far you've come in a few short weeks. You're growing up so fast. You're getting to be a little person with thoughts and opinions. But you'll always be my itty, bitty babe.

I love you, my Bahbahloo.

2 days, 15 hours, 38 minutes...

...until Red Sox pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training!

Its not just about baseball, people. Okay, a lot of my excitement about this has to do with baseball, but it also means that spring is coming. And in New England that is a very good thing indeed.

Pitchers and Catchers in two days!! Hee, hee.

I'm giddy.

Responsible Dog Show Viewing

As I write this there are hundreds of dogs being appraised for their various attributes at the Westminster Kennel Club dog show in NYC. I am just enough of a dog geek to really enjoy watching this spectacle on television. I love dog shows so much that I even watched one while at the hospital before I delivered the Child. The nurse had to turn off the television so I could start pushing. I think that was the only time that I willingly stopped watching a dog show.

But I have good reasons. I'm especially interested in watching the sporting group due to the fact that I own Labradors but I do try to watch pieces of all of the groups. I find that it helps me reach a better appreciation for the dogs (and their owners) who sign up for my classes. It does amaze me, however, that more and more non-dog people, those who are casual dog lovers and subsequently have no desire to train, breed, groom or show dogs, devote their precious evening hours for these two days to watch this popular dog show along with all the die hard dog "snobs", as I like to affectionately call them.

The thing that I fear the most about this shift in popular culture is the belief that those casual dog lovers that I just mentioned are watching this as they would watch the Home Shopping Network. The dogs who attend the WKC show are the best of the best, the most beautiful, and beautifully bred and trained. I imagine that its hard to resist those cute faces. And if you're even thinking of buying a dog to add to your family what better showcase than this dog show? But a dog is much more than the two or three sentence description that you hear from the disembodied voice on your television. A dog is much more than the pretty face and the elegant (or not, depending on the breed) gait that you see.

Every year it seems that the dog who won that year's Best In Show spikes in popularity. I don't have facts and figures to back this up, unfortunately. This is just my opinion based on observation. Last year's winner, for example, was a gorgeous German Shorthaired Pointer who, after winning, was paraded about Manhattan to various morning television shows where she stood dutifully with her handler. This dog was so well behaved that I just knew that I would be seeing a lot of GS Pointer puppies in my upcoming classes. Try as they might, the WKC does a fair job of letting prospective dog owners know what they're getting into when they buy one of these dog's but not good enough. Here's just a small sample of the WKC description of this breed found on their website.

"Introduced here in the 1920's, the Shorthair quickly earned the respect of serious hunters, who found him athletic, easy to train, and generous in nature. And with enough exercise, he's well suited to family life, too. "

There were a few key words and phrases in that description that should be driven into a prospective Pointer owner's brain. Words like athletic and with enough exercise. But what they ultimately hear is easy to train and well suited to family life. I've talked to a number of people who, since last year's show, went out and bought Pointers because those were the phrases that jumped out at them. These were people with the best of intentions hoping to get an easy to maintain and easy to train dog. What they got was a bundle of athletic, puppy energy. A cute pup who ate their shoes, remote controls, and pillow cushions because these well meaning people led normal, busy lives and didn't have enough time to devote to the pups exercise needs. They had a hard time training these "hyper" dogs and most were convinced they had unwittingly purchased a "dumb dog". They hadn't, but I had a hard time convincing them of that. If they would have done a little bit of homework before they went out to buy a dog these people would have found books and websites devoted to the breed, all with warnings that these animals need exercise and work to keep them, and their human families, happy.

The moral of this story (since this post has gotten Damn Long) in the most simplistic of terms is this... If you watch the WKC dog show, dear reader, and become smitten with the Pug or the Dalmation, for instance, please heed my warning. Do not buy a dog based on his or her looks or the fact that their coat won't take much effort to clean or if they'll accessorize well with your outfit (damn you, Paris Hilton!). Do your homework, find the breed of dog that will best suit your family's lifestyle, buy from a reputable breeder - not from a pet store - or adopt from a local shelter. Both will help you decide if a particular puppy is right for you.

Remember that you're bringing a living, breathing animal with specific needs into your home and you will be responsible for it for at least a decade.

Somehow everything still revolves around my breasts

While I was folding laundry the other day I noticed that my nursing tank-tops are starting to look a little ragged. They've been washed and dried so many times that they're starting to fray at the edges. I really should replace them. But I can't bring myself to buy new ones. I am, after all, thinking about trying to wean the Child soon.

If you would have told me a year ago that I would be still be nursing the her well into her 10th month I would smiled and said "How wonderful!" while I was looking for the phone number of the local psychiatric hospital to have you committed to. But here we are, Julia will be 10 months at the end of this week and we're still going strong. My half-hearted attempts at weaning her are going nowhere and that doesn't really bother me. I can see us nursing on her 1st birthday. Who woulda thunk?

Before the Child was born I had every intention of breastfeeding her. Not that I had much choice since I married into a family of breastfeeding Nazis. Seriously. Those are my husband's and my sister-in-law's words, not mine. My Mother-in-law was a La Leche League leader way back in the early 70's and my Sister-in-law, the Doctor, well there was no question that she was going to breastfeed because she's perfect and does no wrong. The Hubby is pro-nursing all the way even if he does try to jockey for position when the Child is eating from time to time.

You would think that this would make the whole experience easier and enjoyable. I mean, how many women would love to have that much guidance and support from their family? But, noooo. Breastfeeding was a complete nightmare for me for the first four months. You read it right. FOUR MONTHS. There were the usual problems like soreness, cracking, and pain (oh my God the pain). Then there was Colic, the Child's need to eat every hour, and the Great Bottle Strike of 2005 from month 3 to 5 when it was All Mama All The Time and Nothing But Mama. Add to those things the fact that I had at least 5 breast infections, one that required me to miss work (yes, I went back to work for a short period of time. That's another story for another day.) because I felt like Mike Tyson had punched me in the chest and I had a 103 degree fever and a migraine that could have killed a horse. But ultimately it was the "support" that almost did me in.

When you're suffering and ready to give up and you're second-guessing everything you're doing with this new little person the last thing you want is someone telling you that breastfeeding is the most natural and wonderful thing in the world. What you really want, okay what I really wanted, was someone who would tell me that sometimes nursing sucks.

No pun intended.

Well, maybe intended a bit.

It sucks like someone rolling over your foot with their car sucks. Or like hitting your funny bone over and over again sucks. I really wanted to hear, from someone who had gone through it, that even though it was so bad at the time it would eventually get better. I wanted to see that light at the end of the tunnel. But what I got was my Mother-in-law telling me how wonderful it was when she was nursing her two kids (thoughts of the Hubby I didn't want in my head at that time). I got words of advice like "If you're doing it right it shouldn't hurt." When an "expert" tells you this you tend to believe it even though now I think its complete hogwash. The Hubby, unfortunately, made it worse by trying to be my Cheerleader. "You're doing great, honey! Keep it up" are not the words you want to hear at 3am when you're trying to decide which breast to give your screaming infant.

Hmmm, should I go with the cracked one or the cracked and bleeding one? Decisions, decisions.

All these sentiments, though misguided at times, were said with love and the best of intentions. As the months went on I tuned them out and listened to myself. Through sheer stubbornness I got through the tough months and it did get a lot better. Now I can't imagine not nursing the Child and its even harder to imagine giving it up. I gave her life and sustained her. I am the only one who can calm the Savage Beast when she's missed her nap. And there is nothing better than having an excuse to go sit in a warm, dark room with the little person you love most in this world and have her hand reach up and caress your face. We still have our battles but the good far outweighs the bad.

Maybe I should just bite the bullet and buy some new nursing tanks. This could go on for awhile.

Bit 'o Grammy

If you haven't done it yet, I highly recommend TiVo-ing award shows and watching them the next day when you can fast forward through all the crap. Like a lot of the music. The performances are usually so scripted and choreographed that you might as well just buy the album and enjoy the over-produced music. Award shows are all about how the stars look anyway. Right?
On to the show's highlights - in my mind, anyway.



Let's just say it - Madonna is still smokin' hot. But did she really need to bring back the curling iron/Feathered hair look?

Kelly Clarkson won 2 Grammys? Holy Crap. She's still going to have to cure cancer to get the respect she deserves. That song rocked hard.

Country music... Blah, Blah, Blah.

U2 and Mary J. Blige? Not sure that one was well thought out.

Gwen Stefani is really cute preggers but the jury is still out on that dress.

If I were a lesbian I would totally go for Ellen Degeneres. Funny and loves animals wins over classically good looking every time.

Has Paul McCartney had work done? If he did, his plastic surgeon did a good job. If not, there's another endorsement for being a vegetarian. And legalized marijuana.

Dear Mariah - You look fabulous, please don't go on some crazy weight loss plan to please your critics. Just cut those extensions (or, horror, your real hair) and you'll lose at least 10 pounds.

What the F*CK was Teri Hatcher wearing?!!

Dave Chapelle is the funniest man not on television anymore.

Okay, the Sly and the Family Stone number... I'm confused. It started out good, so what the hell happened? Oh, they woke Sly Stone from his coma. Or did they?

I'll admit it, I am not a Bruce Springsteen fan. Never have been and never will be. But I do like "Devils and Dust". Now leave me alone.

I'm still not impressed with Kanye West. But the drumline was cool.

Jamie Foxx, Ray Charles called from Heaven. He said he played himself better than you did. Now can you go back to being just Jamie Foxx again?

It's going to take a lot more cleaning up on Christina Aguilera's part to make me forget the
X-tina years.

I met Bonnie Raitt about 10 years ago when I was still working in radio. She is the smallest person - ever. So small you could put her in your pocket. But she seems so much taller on television.

Oh yeah, U2 won a bunch of awards. I loved that album and I really do believe that it deserved all the awards. But at this point I think U2 could record a rock rendition of the ABCs and they would win at least 7 awards.

Sorry American Idol

Must we have the Grammys, American Idol, and Lost on television on the same night? Don't the Television Programming Executives know that it could potentially drive people like me into a remote control induced seizure? The Hubby is going to hate me when this night is over.

There's something you must know about me... I am the Queen of the Remote. I love flipping through channels and I challenge any man to do it better than me. Yes the Hubby will say that from time to time I get too involved in a certain program and forget to flip back to the first show I was watching. But, honestly, that does not happen that often.

I wanted to do a commentary on the Grammy's for tomorrow's post 'cause I love me the MoFo Grammy's. I do wish they were a little less stiff and scripted but, from time to time, there's a monumental moment that goes down in Music History. Like Jethro Tull winning Best Hard Rock/Heavy Metal Performance over Metallica in '89. Helloooo? I'm just glad I was there in front of my television to see the stunned faces of the people in the audience.

Well, Idol is going to lose at least one viewer tonight. But I will not give up my Lost!

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Beautiful girl.

The Child and I just had a lovely lunch with my Gram, my Aunt and my Sister at a local Pub. Julia was adored, which she loves more than just about anything, and I had a few minutes to eat a meal without having little fingers poking into it.

Now, when I say she was adored what I really mean is she was adored and admired and kissed and tickled. Strange people played Peek-a-Boo with her. Random waitresses came over to inquire how old she was and marvel over her beautiful, blue eyes, her dimple, and her mega-watt smile. I had to say "Thank You" over and over with food in my mouth. All in all, a good outing.

I know I'm going to really miss this stage in Chicky Baby's life when she enters the Toddler years. I know I will look back at these few months fondly. There are few things better than having people tell you how beautiful your baby is and seem like they really mean it, instead of saying it because you caught them looking at your child and they caught you catching them looking and had to say something. Women (usually over the age of 60) have come from across a crowded mall to fawn over The Child while I, the dutiful Mother, stand smiling and nodding with very little else to say except "Thanks". Its a little uncomfortable when its happening but it always makes me smile a little more when its over.

Now, before I am misunderstood this is not a "My baby is prettier than your Baby" post. Every Mother thinks their baby is the most beautiful child. Ever. Its just nice to have your feelings validated by perfect strangers. Even if they are pinching your baby's cheeks without asking permission first.

The downside of all this adoration is that it takes me hours to go grocery shopping. No, seriously... HOURS. I never get everything I went to the mall to get because we're there for so long that it interferes with Naptime. And eating at restaurants is so difficult because I'm always stopped mid-bite to answer questions about the Child that before I know it my food is cold. It takes me so long to get the most mundane tasks done outside the house that I have to leave Julia with the Hubby and do them by myself. The downside to the solution of the downside is I miss her and all the attention we get. I just can't win.

Is it wrong to think your baby is the cutest thing to ever come out of a woman's uterus? Of course I don't want a kid who grows up to say things like "I'm so pretty! Everybody tells me so all the time!" as she twirls away in her little, pink tutu. But its not damaging her if she can't understand yet. Right?

In case you've never seen the pictures on my blog, this is what all the fuss is about.

And, no, you cannot eat her cheeks. I'm saving them for later.

He is so getting some later

An actual conversation at the Chicky Household while watching the beginning of "Blazing Saddles" (the railroad track scene).

Me: "I remember when I was a kid I was so scared of quicksand but now you never hear about it. I'm beginning to wonder if it still exists."

Hubby: "It does. I've stepped in quicksand."

Me: looking confused "You've actually stepped in quicksand and lived to tell about it? When was this?

Hubby: "When I was on that NOLS trip in college. I've told you this story before."

Me: "No you haven't. You've told me every other story of yours about a million times but you never told me you stepped in quicksand. I would have remember that one."

Hubby: "Oh." pause "I stepped in quicksand."


My Hubby is the coolest person ever.

A shell of my former self

My brain is not working in an effective manner. I can do the mundane, day to day things that take little more than turning on my internal auto-pilot to get them done - making the bed, feeding the Child, vacuuming the floor. But please don't ask me to do something that takes actual thought to reach completion. That includes writing this blog. I'm blocked. Hopelessly, utterly blocked. I've started at least 5 different posts but I have not been able to get through one of them. You should thank me for not wasting your time, because they sucked.

I think my mind has officially turned to mush.

I used to be a functioning, contributing member of society. I held a job where people not only asked me for my opinion, but actually put my advice to use with positive outcomes. There were projects with results and then more projects with more results. And lunches! Remember lunches? At restaurants? With people? Who held conversations with real words? I used to be able to walk into a restaurant without having to worry in advance whether or not they had an infant high chair. And please don't get me started with the memories of going out after work for drinks with colleagues.

Okay, I'm getting off topic.

Now I feed the Child and change the Child, vacuum the floor, load and unload the dishwasher, make the bed, do the laundry, take the dog's toys out of the Child's mouth and take the Child's toys out of the dog's mouth. I do this all without thinking. And I'm getting very, very bored just writing about it.

My apologies, dear Reader.

This is my point - I don't have to do much on a daily basis that requires much creative thought. The reason why other parents tell you to get your baby on a schedule is because it helps you establish a routine that will help you get through the day so that you won't have to be constantly creative. It makes your life EASIER. Easier does not always equal exciting. With the toddler years fast approaching I know I'm going to want to beat myself over the head with my laptop for even writing those words.

Please don't misunderstand the reasoning behind this post. I love my girl with a force that could move mountains. I'm thankful for the opportunity to stay home with her and focus what little energy I have these days on caring for her and raising her. I can take care of my home and the Hubby, where before, when I was working more than full time, I let a lot of things slide. Like sanitary conditions in the kitchen. And dust bunnies that were so big they really should have been called dust llamas. I'm very rarely embarrassed at the state of my home if friends or family stop by unannounced.

I'm hoping that by purging these thoughts I can get back some of the old me, the Me before the Child was even conceived. The Me who didn't always function in survival mode. I'd like to get back a little of the person who had creative thoughts on a daily basis.

With that all said there's always finger painting to look forward to.

Wednesday Wist

I've never done one of these before. But since I'm an ex-DJ I'm intrigued at what I'll find, and a little horrified that my dirty little music secrets will be exposed.

If you decide to participate in The Wednesday Wist (even if its posted on Thursday - Procrastinators unite!) please drop me a comment and let me know. This means you, you lurkers you.

I'm shuffling the ol' iPod. No whammies, no whammies, no whammies. Stop!

Wist 2/1/06

1. Mrs Robinson - The Lemonheads
And here's to you Mrs. Robinson
Jesus loves you more than you will know
God bless you please Mrs. Robinson
Heaven holds a place for those who pray

I very rarely enjoy a cover. Especially a cover of such an iconic song. But The Lemonheads were very big to me during the College Years. This song transcends the hotness of Evan Dando, though. Maybe its the frenetic tempo. Or possibly the coo coo cachoo. I still love this song and I turn the volume way up when I hear it.

2. Pump It Up - Elvis Costello
Down in the pleasure centre,
hell bent or heaven sent,
listen to the propaganda,
listen to the latest slander.
There's nothing underhand
that she wouldn't understand.
Pump it up until you can feel it.
Pump it up when you don't really need it.

Helloooo. Its Elvis Costello. This needs no explanation.

3. Wendy Time - The Cure
you look like you could do with a friend she said
you look like you could use a hand
someone to make you smile she said
someone who can understand
share your trouble
comfort you
hold you close
and i can do all of these
i think you need me here with you

sophomore year in College. The best non-hubby related year I ever had. Hanging out with all my media-geek friends, staying up late at my friend Tony's apartment talking about music and movies and... I can't really remember everything now. Its all a beautiful, warm, pink haze. I do remember listening to Wish over and over and seeing the Cure in the front row at the Worcester Centrum. Robert Smith is a strange little man but his music haunts me to this day.

4. Lets Go Out Tonight - Blue Nile
Where the lights all shine
Like I knew they would
Be mine all mine
Baby I'll be good
Pray for me
Praying for the light
Baby, Baby, let's go out tonight

In the Napster days I was downloading all this music I had never gotten around to buying at a store. Hey, it was free! And when you work in a multi-media department of a computer storage company people think your "artsy" and they leave you alone when you spend time pirating songs. I sort of stumbled upon Blue Nile. Glad I did. This is the most heartbreaking song.

5. Time After Time - Chet Baker
I only know what I know, the passing years will show
You've kept my love so young, so new
And time after time, you'll hear me say that I'm
So lucky to be loving you

Chet Baker Sings. The album I fell in love with my husband to.

Move over Vinnie

I'm feeling a little blue today. I don't know why and I don't know how to fix it. All I know is that all I want to do is sit around my house and feel sorry for myself. But that's really hard to do when you have a needy infant demanding your attention.
I don't want to fall into the Bitch trap, I want to focus on what makes me happy and maybe that will pull me out of this funk.
This makes me smile - it also sums up my mood.

Blissful weekend

We had a lovely weekend. Nice weather, a little shopping, dinner with friends and the Child missed her afternoon naps both days but didn't freak out in public. Pretty near to perfect. Then I slept wrong last night and woke up with a pain in my neck and now I can't turn my head to the right. Just another bitch slap from Reality.

I got tagged by Amy with this one. I'm new to blogging so this is the first time I've been tagged. Neat-o.

Four jobs I've had:
1. Donut Slinger and Donut Filler at Dunkin Donuts (I came home reeking of donuts everyday but I got all the chocolate frosted donuts and coffee I could consume. Score!)
2. Radio DJ (It sounds a lot cooler than it was)
3. Multi-Media Specialist/Voice-Over Artist for a Fortune 500 company
4. Dog Trainer/Doggie Daycare Manager

Four movies I can watch over and over:
1. Ocean's Eleven
2. Legally Blonde
3. Grosse Point Blank
4. Almost Famous

Four places I have lived:
1. Northern MA
2. Western MA
3. Southern MA
4. In the deepest recesses of my brain

Four TV shows I love:
1. Lost
2. Grey's Anatomy
3. American Idol
4. What Not to Wear (one day someone is going to nominate me for that damn show)

Four places I have vacationed:
1. Florence, Italy
2. Jamaica
3. Cancun
4. San Francisco/Napa Valley

Four of my favorite dishes:
1. Risotto (pretty much every type I've tried so far)
2. Crab Cakes
3. Lobster
4. Salmon with 3 Herb Salsa (when the Hubby will make it for me!)

Four sites I visit daily:
1. Dooce
2. ESPN
3. Mommies with Style
4. Boston Mommy

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. In a warm tub with a glass of wine in my hand.
2. On a warm beach with my toes in the sand.
3. Cruising in a convertible up the Silverado Trail in Napa Valley with the Hubby by my side (in September so it would be warm out - are you getting the theme yet?).
4. Someplace Warm!

Four bloggers I am tagging
Again, I'm new to blogging so I've got to pass on this one. I'm so pathetic.

Mothers and Daughters 1

I'm in the middle of watching tonight's 20/20 episode that centers around Mothers and Daughters and their special and, sometimes, explosive relationship. I've cried during a great deal of the program. Right now I'm watching the segment on Erin Kramp and it hurts. I'm thinking of me and my Mom and me and my Daughter.
God, I miss my Mom.

Divine Intervention

It came!

The best thing to happen to me in a long time (especially after yesterday) has finally arrived on my doorstep. Hand delivered by a chain-smoking man in a funny little white car and bad clothes emblazzoned with USPS all over them. The box that held my salvation inside its nondescript packaging from Amazon.com.

Ladies and Gentlemen (and Hubby - I know you're reading this) I give you...




Philadelphia Chickens













and Dog Train!


Dear dear Sandra Boynton and Friends, how I love thee.

The Child owns most of the Boynton library by now but we had not yet purchased these fabulous CDs and their companion books. Maybe you know about Sandra Boynton, but if you don't get yourself to her website and gaze upon the wonderfully imaginative creations she has bestowed upon the world. The books are great fun with lots of silly characters and even sillier writing. The Child seems to like them and, more importantly at this point, I like them. Our favorite book is "Snuggle Puppy" (natch) and its meant to be sung. After reading/singing that book for the umpteenth time and making up my own melody I decided it was time to find out what the song really sounds like. I can't tell you how happy I was that Eric Stolz was the celebrity singer. Yes, the man who was Rocky Dennis in "Mask"and Vahlere in "Say Anything" sings "Snuggle Puppy" on the Philadelphia Chickens CD. I'm so happy.

But it gets better. Dog Train is fantastic. Philadelphia Chickens had a lot of well-known stars (Kevin Kline, Meryl Streep, Laura Linney, the Bacon Brothers) but Dog Train is chock full of artists that you'd want to listen to and your kids will think are kinda cool, too. How's this for a line-up... The Spin Doctors, Blues Traveler, Mickey Hart, the Bacon Brothers (in a repeat performance), Kate Winslet, Alison Krauss, John Ondrasik, Hootie and the Blowfish, and Rob Hyman and Eric Bazilian (the Hooters!!). Okay, some of them are a little past their prime, but at least its not Raffi.

Chicky Baby is a little young to get the subtle nuances of songs like "Tantrum" and "I Need a Nap" but I really enjoyed the humor and the music. These CDs/Books will be purchased for every child's birthday party that we have to attend for the next 6 years or so.

It will be a joy to learn all of these new songs to sing to Julia, because if I had to sing "Wheels on the Bus" one more time I was going to throw myself in front of one.

Where the hell are my hip waders?

I think the Chicky Household can now be categorized as a Bio-Waste Site.

The Child and I are both sick with head colds of the coughing, sneezing, runny and/or stuffy nose type. Who knew a wee babe could produce so much mucus? Between her nose and mine I'm knee deep in snotty tissues. After a day of non-stop wiping she is now giving me looks of horror after every sneeze, like she knows that the tissue is on its way towards her sore, little snout. And I wish that snot was the worst of it. Boy, do I wish. Let's recap my day. Shall we?

We woke to a normal day in New England. In other words, Snow. Shit, now I have to go out and shovel.

After an uneventful breakfast (mmm, Bananas and Oatmeal) with very little food throwing on the Child's part, we settled down on the floor for some playtime and Today Show watchin'. Then off to bed for the morning nap (Oh, dear Morning Nap... I'll miss you when you're gone). Chicky Baby even slept pretty well, about an hour and a half, which gave me time to watch a bit of Regis and Kelly. Emma Thompson was on and she looked fabulous. Loved the boots.

The Child wakes, is promptly changed and dressed for the day, and we park ourselves on the couch with a bottle that she drinks with gusto. Half of which she promptly throws back up all over me and herself after a nasty coughing fit. Yippee, its not even 11:30am.

We change out of our nasty clothing and into clean outfits (okay, I was in a clean outfit, she was in a diaper. I wasn't taking any chances with another change of clothes - I have enough laundry to do). I do some vacuuming and she chews on the power cord. And, no, I'm not kidding about that. When I'm through cleaning up the pet hair that has gathered overnight, its time for lunch. After a bit of a struggle we find something that she will actually let pass her lips. Apple, raisin and granola mush, just in case you were wondering. The pieces of kiwi that I lovingly cut into teeny bits for her were thrown on the floor, much to the delight of the circling vultures... I mean, the dogs. Twenty-four nose wipes later (or, roughly, 1 every 2 - 3 minutes) and, thankfully, no more vomiting, its time for nap.

Nap does not go well. While I'm out shoveling (friggin' New England) The Child wakes up a few times. She eventually puts herself back to sleep but, unfortunately, that means that naptime was not as restful for her as it should be. And you know what that means... The return of Cranky Baby! When she's up for good I go to her room and find that Chicky Baby is covered in snot. But not just over the nose area. Her face is completely covered in a thin film of mucus like a layer of skin that's peeling off. I promptly wash her face which pisses her off. Its 3pm. What am I going to do with this sick child for four more hours until bedtime?

Let's try a bottle! It worked so well the first time and it will give Mommy's Boobs a rest. She drinks 2 ounces. Oooh-kay. The Child starts screaming so we play with blocks, she loves pushing them over. She's bored with that after 2 minutes. Stacking rings? Nope. Books? Uh-uh. Pulling tissues out of the tissue box? Fun for about 30 seconds. She's crying again. Does she have a fever? Ever so slightly, about 99.2 degrees. Ear Ache? Don't think so. Let's try a snack... Bananas and Cheerios, that's always a big hit. We occupy ourselves with snack time for a while and then off for more play. The snack obviously worked because she sits happily on the floor and plays with her blocks. Ah, peace at last.

Not so fast... I hear a strange noise coming from the upstairs landing. As I round the corner to investigate I see Lana, the black lab, throwing up on the floor. I shoo her out the back door and return to the mess armed with paper towels and cleaner. I'm cleaning the small puddle when my eyes wander up the stairs and its ALL THE WAY UP THE STAIRS. The newly carpeted stairs. God Dammit! As I'm cleaning the child starts screaming again.

Again, is she feverish? Not really. Is anyone sticking her with pins? Not yet. Does she want some dinner? Get the hell away from me with those carrots, Woman! We dance and sing until its close enough to bath- and bedtime. Close enough. I run the bath and get her undressed. She loves being naked so this should make her happy. The Child crawls away from me a bit, turns to look at me and then pees on the floor. SonofaBitch. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

And here I am with Mommy's Little Helper du jour, a not horrible Sonoma County Sauvignon Blanc, watching American Idol and surrounded with used tissues. Tomorrow has got to be better. But those stairs will never be the same.

A little too close to home

This story has been all over the local news today. Since its close to where we live, it literally hits too close to home. A woman and her 9 month old baby girl were found shot to death in their house, huddled together in the woman's bed, under a pile of blankets. The missing husband, of course, is a suspect. Actually, they're calling him "a person of interest" which says to me that the authorities don't want to jump to any conclusions. But in the wake of the Laci Peterson murders, I'm willing to bet that the husband in this case has already been tried and convicted in the court of public opinion.

On the Boston news stations they're showing pictures from the family website. Pictures of a happy couple and they're adorable infant girl. Nice pictures from happy times. Looking at them I can't help but wonder Did She Know? If, in fact, it is the husband to blame in this case, did the woman know she married a man who had the capacity for murder? Did they start out together on this journey called marriage like most people, full of promise and hope, or was there always something menacing lying underneath the surface? And what about the baby? What makes a person shoot a helpless infant? You can't tell from the pictures.

My baby, the Child, is also 9 months. When I look into her face I'm horrified at the idea that someone could kill her. Someone could look at that same beautiful face that I'm looking at and could pull the trigger of a gun and end her life. What drives a person to kill a woman and her infant? I'll be asking myself that question for a long, long time.

My family's thoughts and prayers are with the family and friends of this woman, Rachel Entwistle, and her daughter Lillian. I hope your killer is found quickly and that justice is swift and fair. And I hope your spirits rest easy, where ever they are.

Little Victories

After a week of sickness the Child is finally eating and drinking again. OhthanktheLordJesusChristAlmightyhallelujah. Amen. It almost makes me want to go back to church and say a prayer of thanks. Almost. I would probably be struck dead by a very large lightning bolt if I even drove my car close to the parking lot. But anywhoo...

She will now eat some foods, but only those foods she deems worthy to enter her darling, stubborn little mouth. The Child has opinions, oooh does she have Opinions. The sweet baby who once trusted me to put tasty things into her mouth and took them willingly now looks at me with distrust and scorn while I'm preparing her food. And her sense of smell seems to have heightened during her sickness. She can now smell a food she doesn't like at 5 paces. And she has no problem letting me know what she doesn't like.

Tonight I gave her 4 choices for dinner before we finally settled on one she liked. And, yes, it was the same thing she's eaten for the past 3 days. You may be asking yourself "Why didn't you just give her the tried and true dinner the first time?" Because I'm the Mommy, Dammit! She doesn't realize it yet but I can be as stubborn as she is. I will persevere. She will learn to like what I've prepared for her. I will win this fight.

Who am I kidding? I'm going down - Hard.

Losing to a 9 month old... That's going to help my self-esteem.

The most addicting website EVER

I love reading other people's blogs, if only to find cool websites to check out(thanks Red Sox Bat Girl). This one is the best one I've seen in a while.

As a warning, make sure you pick the right photo. With one picture I looked like Helena Blavatsky. I had to find another picture IMMEDIATELY. With another I most resembled Catherine Deneuve. In yet another, and I'm not sure how this is possible, I most resembled Kate Winslet and Lucy Liu. The only one I really agreed with is my similarities to Alyson Hannigan.

This website is addicting... You have been warned.

What's the sign for "Bite my Ass"?

I took the Child to a baby sign language class today. The other mothers and I tried to teach our babies the sign for ball, more and book. After about 20 minutes I completely lost her attention and just let her crawl around the room with her little buddies. We had a good time, though, and I'm really going to throw myself (and, because he lives here, the Hubby too) into it. I've heard that ASL - American Sign Language - really works for babies, helping reduce their frustration when they reach the age when they really want to communicate more but don't yet have the ability to speak. Its fascinating stuff. For instance, did you know that The Experts (don't ask me who The Experts are, but They write books so They must know what They're doing) say that children have learned 75% of their language skills by 3 years? I guess I'll have to start watching what I'm doing when Julia is around. Don't want her first sign to be the Bird.

I bet that would be a big hit at family functions.

Angelina Jolie's future adopted children are starving all over the world, Dammit!

Julia has had some sort of a stomach bug for the past few days. Besides the puking, which really only happened twice, I haven't had to change this many poopy diapers since she was a newborn. And, yes, I did just use the word poopy. Used it twice, in fact.

I can handle the sickness, what I can't handle is the not eating. Every morning for the past 3 days I have tried giving her cereal, fruit, yogurt. I have tried all of her favorite morning foods and she won't eat any of them. The same thing happens at lunch and dinner. I can slide a spoonful or two past her lips while she's not paying attention, but for the most part she just slaps the spoon away from her face and gives me a really pissed off look. You know what she will eat? Cheerios. That's it, just Cheerios. She will shovel great handfuls in her mouth, choking herself in the process. Then she will finally force them down her throat and start again. I try to explain to her that Baby can not live on O-shaped cereal alone. That mama worked hard to cook, puree, and spoon the yummy yams into sterilized ice cube trays then thaw them in the microwave to just the right temperature as to not scorch her precious pink tongue. She blew me a raspberry, splattering all over me the small spoonful of yummy yam that I snuck into her mouth between Cheerios.

And if that wasn't bad enough she won't drink much either. If I can get 3 ounces into her at a time I start doing cartwheels. And I really suck at cartwheels. We saw the doctor yesterday and she didn't seem too concerned about it at the time. I'm really trying not to stress about it because I'm sure once she starts to feel better things will go back to normal. But isn't she too young to stage a hunger strike?

If this is what she's like now, we're in deep poopy when she hits the teen years.

10 minutes before she lost her lunch

She waited until I was at work and then, whoops! All over the hubby. Thanks chicky baby. I owe ya.

Julia Update - 9 months

The child is 9 months today. I can't believe we've actually made it 9 whole months without some serious mental breakdown, but we have.

Here's some highlights from the past few weeks:

Once Julia figured out how to crawl, at around 8 months, there was no stopping her. I take that back, baby gates work wonders in stopping a crawling baby from, say, falling down the basement steps or smacking a dog in the face. I have them all over my house. Gates not dogs, although it does feel like that from time to time. Because of all the barriers I think we now qualify as a gated community.

As soon as she figured out how to become independently mobile it only took a few days after that to figure out that she could pull herself up into a standing position on things like the couch and the laundry basket. Observe...




Here I go!






















Assuming the position...

Steady now...

Ta Daa!

Now that she can stand up Julia is starting to understand fear and pain. She knows that if she tries to get down from her standing position that she could potential hurt herself. So she just stands there until she can't stand it anymore then she cries until someone comes and puts her back down on the floor. Fun for the whole family.

The hubby is enjoying this age because the child can now play interactive games (simplistic ones, but still). For example, he found out last night that if he rolled a ball to her she would pick it up, hand it to him, and wait until he rolled it again. I don't know who enjoyed the game more, hubby or Julia.

I'm enjoying this age because she's learning how to communicate. The other day I put Julia in her high chair and went to prepare dinner. After she sat there, oh so patiently, for about 3 SECONDS she started crying. When I gave her my full attention she looked me straight in the eye then looked at the Cheerios box on the counter and pointed at it! Then she gave me a look, ooh you know the look, the look that say "Dammit, woman! Give me what I want and nobody gets hurt." Friday we attend a sign language class for babies... Can't wait.

Happy 9 months, kid. You crack me up.

*smmooochesss*

Seven Sevens

Got this one from Binky.

Seven things to do before I die
1. Learn Italian
2. Travel more
3. Get off my butt and put at least one title on Fisher - I'd settle for a CGC at this point
4. Find my inner peace. I'm not sure where I left it
5. Open my own business
6. Tell my husband I love him every single day
7. Raise my daughter to be a confident, self-assured, happy woman

Seven things I cannot do
1. Stop myself from cracking a joke during extremely tense situations
2. Drive a stick
3. Dance
4. Ice or Roller Skate
5. Ski
6. Knit
7. A decent cartwheel

Seven things that attracted me to my husband
In no particular order!
1. His kindness
2. His Humor
3. His ridiculously amazing intelligence
4. His beautiful blue eyes
5. His music collection
6. His smile
7. The way he made me feel like I was the only woman in the world

Seven things I say most often
1. No!
2. Yes, Nice, Good (works for dog training and husband training)
3. Aw, hell.
4. Fuck a Duck.
5. I know I'm forgetting something.
6. If we're going to get to where we're going we need to boogie.
7. Cool.

Seven books I love
I have loved far too many books in my life to limit the number to 7, but these are the ones that come to mind first
1. Drive: Women's True Stories from the Open Road - Jennie Goode (editor)
2. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith
3. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius - Dave Eggers
4. All of the books by Sandra Boynton
5. A Million Little Pieces - James Frye (I don't care if he may have fabricated a few things or not)
6. Dog is My Co-Pilot: Great Writers on the World's Oldest Friendship - Bark
7. Come to think of it, pretty much anything with "Dog" in the title or in the subject

Seven movies I watch over and over again
Again there are far too many, but here's the short list
1. Grosse Point Blanke
2. PCU (I know, its stupid, but it makes me giggle and I love Jeremy Piven)
3. Gigi
4. An American in Paris
5. Ocean's Eleven (the one with George Clooney, not the original one)
6. Grace of My Heart
7. Sixteen Candles/Pretty in Pink/Breakfast Club/St. Elmo's Fire (The Brat Pack Baby!)

Seven people I want to join in, too
1. Anyone
2. who
3. stumbles
4. across
5. this
6. blog
7. Thanks!

Old Faithful

Like most babies, Julia is fascinated with remote controls and phones. After fighting it for a while I decided to give in and give the child her own remote. Its one we don't use anymore, so what's the harm? She loves that thing. But, really, how long can it possibly hold her fascination? Its a remote control, it doesn't do anything. I figured that after she got all of her new Christmas toys she would finally give it up. Silly, silly Mommy...

Why I named her that

For as long as I can remember I've been coming up with baby names. Even before I knew for certain that I wanted to have kids the idea of baby names fascinated me. Imagine being responsible for the name that a new person was going to carry for the rest of their lives. It was very important to me that my child have a distinctive name, one that was unique enough to be memorable and special but not too unique so she would have problems with it later in life. In a world of Emma's and Madison's and Olivia's I wanted my baby to stand out from the crowd in some small way. Not that I have a problem with those names. I think they're beautiful and apparently I'm in good company.

From the time that the hubby and I were a serious couple the poor guy has been subjected to my crazed lists of baby names. What about this one, what about that one? What do you think of (insert name here)? I was a woman obsessed and he was a man besieged.

For a long time the only name that was not up for discussion was her middle name. That was decided long ago. My dear sister, whom I love dearly, is and always has been a terrible klutz. I mean horrible, if there was a puddle or stream nearby she would fall in it. If it was picture day you could guarantee that she would fall and end up with a split lip. If she were eating the food most likely end up on her clothes. Her real name is Kelly but my family ended up nicknaming her Grace Kelly or Grace Slick or simply just Grace. So, for my sister whom I love dearly, I decided long ago that Grace would be some part of my first daughter's name. Unfortunately, the man I married has a last name that does not go well with the name Grace. Back to square one.

As for my daughter's first name, now that's a bit of a long story. A few months before I got pregnant my Mom died. Mother's Day was really tough that year. It was a day that I didn't want to acknowledge, hell, it was a day that I didn't want to get out of bed. But my grandmother wanted me and my sister to spend the day with her, so off to my hometown I went. Driving in my car on the way to my Grandmother's house there was a Beatles marathon on the radio and every song was about a woman or a mother. On came a song that I know I must have heard before but hearing it then was like hearing it for the first time. It was a song so sad and beautiful and a bit like a lullaby. It was a song written by John Lennon for his mother who had died tragically when he was 17. It made me cry and it made me happy and it made me sad and it made me think about my Mom, and miss my Mom, and mourn my Mom all over again. And it made me want to name my baby girl (I was totally convinced at that moment that I was going to have a girl even though we had not yet conceived) for this song that made me think of my Mom. This beautiful, haunting song that I couldn't get out of my head. So I named her Julia, the title of the beautiful song I heard on the radio on the first Mother's Day I spent without my Mom. She is named for the two most important women in my life, my Mom and my Sister and yet she does not carry their names. Julia Grace. The two most beautiful names I could think of. Julia Grace. I hope she likes the names and the stories behind them when she grows up.

A Minor Miracle

I almost feel like I should knock wood before writing this... After almost 9 months of life, Julia seems to be a little more accepting of having someone else watch her while I leave the house.

Waiting for lightning to strike...

Waiting...

Nothing yet. Phew.

Last night I had to leave the Child with my Mother-In-Law so I could go to work. Aaron is out of town on business (Las Vegas - Damn Him) and I can't take her to class with me. (I have thought about it though. Can you imagine taking your dog to training class and your instructor has her 8 month old baby strapped to her chest in a Baby Bjorn? Treat for doggie, treat for baby. It kind of makes me giggle thinking about it.) Julia is famous for having major meltdowns when people she doesn't know intimately (in other words, me) try to hold her, never mind sit for her while Mama leaves the house. Last night, though, I actually walked out the door while she was on the floor playing with her Grandma and SHE DIDN'T FREAK OUT. She didn't even notice. And, apparently, she didn't fuss at all until it was time to go to bed and she does that anyway.

Ah, progress. I guess that time in Florida with the fam-damily helped.

I want my two hours!

I have been to one - count them, one - movie in a real movie theater in the past year. While I was pregnant I had such terrible back pain that simply sitting in a movie theater seat was enough to send me running to the bathroom close to tears. After Julia was born we found out very quickly that she wasn't going to be the type of baby who would take kindly to being left with a babysitter, even if the sitters were her own grandparents, so there went our chances of sneaking out for a couple of hours to catch a flick. A month ago, though, the hubby and I actually got out long enough to see the new Harry Potter film and it was well worth incurring the wrath of Cranky Baby's evil sister, Screaming-Bloody-Murder Baby. I loved that movie. But, for the most part, we watch a lot of Movies On Demand at home.

On Friday night Aaron convinced me to rent "War of the Worlds". You know, the one Tom Cruise thought sucked enough that he had to jump on Oprah's couch to get enough publicity to save it. And you know what? He was right, it did suck. It sucked with a capital S-U-C-K-E-D. If you saw the movie, Dear Reader, then you know what I mean. If you haven't, consider this a public service announcement. Do not see that movie! Please, for the love of all that is good and holy DO NOT SEE "WAR OF THE WORLDS"! I don't know how many exclamation points and warnings in caps I have to use. The movie was that bad. The best part of the movie was Morgan Freeman - and he did the voice-over at the beginning and the end of that damn movie for Christ's Sake. Thankfully we didn't waste a trip to the theater on it.

I can never get those two hours of my life back (as much as I begged for them after I sat there through the whole damn thing). But if you decide, after reading this, that you want to see that movie for yourself - let's say you're a big Tom Cruise fan, I guess that's still possible these days - don't say you weren't warned. But, my God, it was SO BAD!!!!!!

I really want those two hours back.

Its the sport of kings, better than anything...

It seems in the last 30 minutes that everytime I glance up from my computer the Patriots are scoring another touchdown. God, I love these guys.
Score (as of 10:30pm Eastern time) NE - 28 Jax - 3 in the 4th.
Go Pats!

Positive Dog Training for the Whole Family

About 3 years ago I gave up my job at a Fortune 500 company to work with dogs, mainly as a Dog Trainer. Not a day goes by that I don't silently thank the hubby for taking on more (okay all, dog training doesn't pay much) of the financial responsibility so that I could work in a field that I am passionate about. I love being a Dog Trainer. I honestly enjoy helping new dog owners live in harmony with their new puppies or older dogs that they have acquired. And if I get to squeeze and cuddle a few wiggly pups from time to time, so much the better.

Sometimes, though, my training techniques creep into my life in the strangest ways and they don't always have the desired results. The other day I put Julia down on the floor and then, without even thinking, I said "Sit" and "Stay" complete with hand signals. If you've ever taken your dog to training classes you know what I mean.

Did I really do what I think I just did?

Yep. I put the child in a sit/stay.

And she didn't listen, she took off crawling in the opposite direction.

I'm better with dogs. Honestly.

For instance, I could probably teach my dogs to write their names in the snow before I could consistently get the hubby to close a cabinet door, turn off a light or put something away when he's done with it. But I'm going to keep trying. He's already getting better about things. Part of the trick is catching him in the act and praising him when he does what I want him to do.

(Damn, he's probably reading this. There goes the element of surprise. Guess I'm going to have to up the treat ante!)

I plan on applying my training techniques to my parenting duties as well. Praise, reinforcement and the occasional treat. When someone in my family is moving in the wrong direction in life - redirect. Try to tone down the yelling and harsh words, they don't work anyway. Lots of loving touch, hugs and kisses. Clear boundaries and guidelines. Don't get me wrong, I know life isn't that clear cut and I know I'll stumble as I go along. But I'm optimistic and I'm going into this with a positive outlook. And, honestly, squeezing and cuddling a wiggling baby is just as satisfying as a puppy. Maybe more so... but don't tell my training buddies!

Vote for Us!

If you have a few seconds, vote for Fisher or Lana to win Best In Show at the Dog Show USA website. The winner gets to go to the National Dog Show (I know, its only cool if you're a geeky dog person), AND 10 voters will be randomly selected to win video iPods. So its win-win for everyone. And who doesn't like looking at cute doggy pictures? You have to do it quickly, though. I think voting ends soon. Procrastination wins again.

As a side note, I'm a little ticked off at the people who take care of that website. They totally cut off Lana's description and I worked really hard on it. Its difficult to sum up her fantastic personality in 300 words. And all of their pictures didn't upload. At least the ones that made it were adorable.

Don't forget - vote for us now! Thanks.

Thoughts

On my mind...


Christmas was a lot more fun when I was a kid and someone else was responsible for taking down and putting away all the decorations.

__________

This is the most impractical and most wonderful thing my sister has purchased for Julia so far... My GOD she looks cute!

__________

I am so psyched for the new season of "Dancing with the Stars" if only to see Tia Carrere still carrying her post-pregnancy weight. Its refreshing to see a celebrity (okay, granted, a C-list celebrity) who is comfortable enough to appear on television looking like a normal person.

__________

My dog has the worst breath in the world. He's lucky he's damn cute.

__________

I know this isn't timely, but I can't stop thinking about it... I will NEVER forgive Johnny Damon. EVER.

__________

There are WAY too many primary-colored toys in my house. Its kind of freaking me out.

__________

Because of the holidays I haven't seen the women in my Mother's Group for a few weeks. And I really miss them.

__________

I hope everyone has a wonderful and healthy 2006.

Why my child will never get into Harvard

Thud.

Picture in your head the sound of an unripe melon hitting the floor after being dropped 3 1/2 feet and you still won't be close to the sickening sound of Julia's head hitting the floor after falling off of my bed. The very same bed that the hubby put her on while we were putting together some clothes to bring to the drycleaner. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of pink and Aaron diving across the bed. Like a bad movie he yelled "Nnnnnoooooooooooo" like in slow motion - and then there was the thud. Actually, it was more like THUD. I'm sure I will never forget that sound for the rest of my life. She's fine, thank God. She cried immediately after falling so she didn't lose consciousness, and she has a bump on her forehead and a bruise but she's happy and smiley now. I'm not. I woke up on at least 6 different occasions last night with bad dreams.

I think Aaron feels worse about it today than Julia does. Especially since I warned him to watch her closely because she moves so quickly these days. But, as he told me later, he "only turned his back for a second".

Its a learning experience, he said.

A LEARNING EXPERIENCE?

No, a learning experience is having her roll off of the couch (yeah, that one was my fault). The couch is only about a foot and a half high, two feet tops. The bed is ridiculously high. Like waist high. Like I needed a step stool to get into it after I came home from the hospital after delivering her high. And the floor is hard wood, not carpeted. And she's MY BABY! I've never been so scared in all my life.

I forgive him, of course I do. It was a mistake and he's learned from it. But I'll never let him forget it. Every time she comes home with a bad grade, or a low score on her SAT, or some moron of a boyfriend I'll remind my hubby that its his fault because he turned his back for a second. Until then, we'll just nickname her "Lumpy". See - I can laugh about it now.

Oh no, I mean - yay!

My blog was added to themomsalon.com - Holy Crap. That means people might actually read this. I mean people besides the hubby who checks in on it from time to time (how's that for passive-aggressive couplehood?). Up until now I wrote this for myself thinking maybe someone occasionally would stumble upon my blog or maybe I would share it with a friend or two. I don't know what made me send the link to The Mom Salon, vanity maybe. Possibly my inner voyeur. Actually, I think it was the wine.

If you, dear reader, decide to take a few minutes to read this I hope you enjoy what I've written. Remember please that I'm not a writer. I use this medium to organize my cluttered mind, with hope that I can chronicle this new life I have embarked upon as a Mom. This is not an easy thing for me to do, since the jumble in my head gets in the way sometimes. I know what I write here is not new or different and I'm not the first new Mom to think or do these things. But this is a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy. And if you don't enjoy it, too damn bad. Because I write this for myself. So nah, nah.

Packing it away

I want to preface this post with this statement... As of this point I STILL don't want a second child. I'm not ruling anything out (as I've mentioned before) I just can't imagine doing it again. But I'm going to miss baby clothes. Oh my God how I love baby clothes. I love folding little t-shirts and washing little baby jeans. I love dressing my baby girl in fashionable clothes purchased for her by her fabulous aunts. I'm drawn to Gymboree and Baby Gap as I breeze by Ann Taylor and Banana Republic. I look like a schlub but my child is dressed to the nines.

This all hit me yesterday as I was packing up Julia's 3-6 month clothes to make room for all her 6-12 month clothes she got for Christmas. I'm sure most Mom's feel this way especially after putting away outfits that were worn once or not at all. Some still had the tags still on them! That killed me. If my Mom were still alive I'd get a lecture on how I should have had Julia wear them at least once. There's a story in my family about an Easter Sunday when I was 1 and my Mom made me wear a purple faux fur Easter outfit even though it was an unseasonable 75 degrees and I was screaming from the discomfort. But, dammit, that outfit was bought for me by my Grandmother and it was expensive and I was wearing it whether I liked it or not. So there.

Anyway, I put the clothes away thinking I'll keep them for my sister if she ever has a little girl. Or for friends with new babies, hand-me-downs are always welcome. You just never know what those clothes could be used for.

But my little Buhbba is getting bigger, she's growing up. Now she's crawling soon she'll be walking and after that she'll be leaving for college. That's what it feels like - Right? I know I was just packing away baby clothes but it felt like I was closing a chapter of my life. The only good thing about Julia growing up... More trips to Baby Gap!

What did you do for Christmas?

Okay so I wasn't totally truthful about why I was so stressed about the child being sick. The reason was we were about to embark on our first trip to Florida for Christmas and a sick infant on a plane was more than I thought I could bear. She got a little bit better before we left and, I have to say, she did remarkably well on the plane ride down. I'm not sure how the guy next to me felt about having a woman nursing her baby, ever so discreetly, under an airplane blanket - but, hey, I'll never see him again. And despite the lack of a napping schedule, Julia was a very happy baby for the 4 days we were in Florida. Disaster averted. Phew.

Julia met her cousin Charlie for the first time on this trip and oh how she loved him. She loves her cousin Sam too, but he's 6 and Charlie is 2 and much closer in age and most of the time willing to play with her. Aaron's sister and her family live in Minnesota so we don't see them much, maybe twice a year if we're lucky, so it was great to be with them. And the fact that she's a doctor and gives wonderful advice if asked doesn't hurt either. Its times like this vacation that I really wish they lived closer. I'm so used to having all my family live within driving distance that its hard to have such wonderful people (the boys included) live so far away. It would be wonderful if Julia could have her cousins nearby to grow up with.

Speaking of children growing up with other children, the subject of a second child was narrowly diverted during this trip mainly because I kept my big trap shut and didn't jump head first into the conversation. It was brought up and I let it die. Please give me my pat on the back now.

We stayed at the home of my mother-in-law's friend, Bert, and his partner Marvin. I couldn't accurately describe either of them, so I'm not even going to try. I will say that I enjoyed meeting them (finally!) and the hubby and I were very grateful for their hospitality. It can't be easy to open your home to four adults and a baby (Aaron's sister and brother-in-law and the boys stayed at a hotel). We swam in their pool and ate their food and woke them up much earlier than I'm sure they were used to getting up. They were extremely gracious and fabulous, and I'm not just saying that because Bert contributed to Julia's college fund. Thank you Uncle Bert.

Even though I missed my family I can honestly say that we had a wonderful time and I'm almost sorry that I was so doom and gloom about the whole idea. Almost, because Julia was screaming on the plane ride home and I was soo happy when the whole ordeal was over. It was hard leaving 75 degrees and sunny for 35 degrees and cloudy, but its always good to be home.

Take a deep breath

I knew it was coming, it was inevitable. Julia has her first bad cold. Ugh. It started yesterday with a slight cough, and then she got worse about 1am this morning with more coughing and sniffling. She was really restless, but she put herself right back to sleep and didn't wake up until 6:30am (that's my girl!) Today, though, its full blown coughing, sneezing, goopy nose (love those snot bubbles) and a fever. I know that 1 cold in 8 months of life isn't bad. It's got to be the breastfeeding, because I'm certainly not following after her wiping her down with anti-bacterial wipes or Lysol-ing every surface of my house on a regular basis. I'm just not that kind of mom. But (and the hubby will attest to this) I am a stress-bag. And I am stressing a bit over this cold.

But in my defense I feel I have good reason. First, this is her first cold and her first real fever (102.8! Ack!) and I'm not sure I'm doing everything correctly. I've given her Tylenol and put her in a cool bath and now she's (restlessly) sleeping. Tomorrow we'll go see the doctor. But, hey, I'm a new mom and we all feel like we're failures from time to time. Right? Second, Christmas is coming. Trips to see the relatives, festivities that will wear her and me out, etcetera, etcetera. Third, and this is the topper, I think my dog Lana just had a seizure. Here I am all by myself (the hubby is at a x-mas party) with a sick child and a dog who's having a seizure. Great.

Julia comes first but Fisher and Lana were my first babies. They are very important to me and I worry about their well-being. Tonight I had to hope that my dog got better on her own because I obviously couldn't leave the baby and there's no such thing as doggie ambulances in my neck of the woods. Luckily she did, she's curled up on the couch next to me as I write this and tomorrow I'll call the vet to have her examined (we'll schedule that around a trip to the doctor's office and preparing for Christmas because I apparently have more than 24 hours in my day). But for a minute, that felt like an HOUR, I had good reason to stress out. And stress out I did. Now I'm drinking a glass of wine, de-stressing with my dog asleep next to me, the baby asleep upstairs, and waiting for the hubby to come home. And he will PAY if he dares to call me a stress-bag.

The times they are a-changin'

The other day I finally broke down and purchased an iPod. When I took it out of the box I held it in my hands and just looked at it for a while. Then I caressed the white plastic, played with the menu options, and (once I had finally figured out how to get the software working correctly - don't ask, that's another story entirely) downloaded a few songs. The convenience is astonishing. Whenever I hear a song on the radio that I like I can download it to my new iPod instead of buying the whole album, saving myself about $14. Its like the good old days of cassette singles only cheaper and better quality. But I'm torn. Am I sacrificing the total music experience for the ease of a small piece of technology?

I grew up with albums - that's vinyl for those of you born after 1984, not cassettes. First it was my parent's records... Pink Floyd, Cream, The Beatles, and my favorite Big Brother and the Holding Company "Cheap Thrills". Some of my favorite memories from childhood are of listening to those albums for hours. When I couldn't convince my Mom or Dad to put a record on for me I would stare at the album covers, particularly Big Brother's famous "Cheap Thrills" album cover designed by R. Crumb. When I was old enough to have my own albums and record player I had moved into my musical theater phase - Grease, Annie, Sound of Music. The first albums I bought with my own money when I was a pre-teen - and I'm almost embarrassed to admit this - were Men at Work and Bonnie Tyler. I can't believe that my Mom didn't throw them out the window after hearing "Who Can it be Now" or "Total Eclipse of the Heart" for the 200th time! Soon after cassettes became all the rage (great for taping songs off the radio - our own early version of Napster) and then it was CDs, but I never gave up on vinyl entirely.

A few years ago the hubby bought me a record player. You know, one of those players that looks like an old-fashioned record player but isn't. I was really excited because now I could take all those albums out of storage and listen to them again. I hadn't gotten around to replacing them with CDs so it felt like I was visiting some old friends. The first one I grabbed was, you guessed it, "Cheap Thrills". The artwork was still spectacular and the distinct smell of plastic and cardboard was still there. Then I put it on the player, cued up the needle... and the quality sucked. It didn't just suck, it S-U-C-K-E-D. It was scratchy and the sound was horrible. Soon after I went out and bought the CD. And soon after I finish writing this, it will be in my iPod.

I'm sad because I feel like my daughter will be missing out on some of the things that used to make music special. Gone are the days of album art, at least in the mass media. When was the last time you really looked at a CD cover? I'm still going to hold on to my records and, when she's old enough to understand, I'll pull them out of storage and show her what Mama used to listen to when she was a little girl. And then we'll listen to their music on our iPods, because records sound really bad in comparison!

Why didn't anyone tell me?

When you're pregnant for the first time you're warned about, oh, 50% of what's in store for you during and after childbirth. I completely understand now that some things I had to experience for myself. There was just no way for anyone to accurately put into words some of the things my body and my psyche was going to go through. Sure, other mothers can tell you that you'll be sleep deprived. But no one can prepare you for the sheer mental and physical exhaustion you will go through when caring for a newborn. Especially when you are breastfeeding (That's a pearl of wisdom from one new mother to any potential mothers out there that they don't put in the books. You won't sleep... EVER. Or at least until your baby learns that you're not a walking, talking pacifier).

The closest source of true mommy wisdom were from this book and this book. And, even though it was mentioned in the second book I feel it is my duty to drive the point home about one particularly disturbing part of postpartum. Are you ready? Okay, here goes nothing.... That thick and lovely hair you got while carrying your little bundle of joy during pregnancy will fall out IN CLUMPS about 3 to 4 months after you deliver. Big, nasty, clumps. You will have gobs of hair all over your house, in the sink, in the shower, in you BABY'S MOUTH. You will only have to look at a hair brush and out will pop 15 more strands. I shed more than my cats and dogs combined. Its disgusting.

The shedding lasted about 3 months and I didn't have very thick hair to begin with. And I did notice my hair getting thinner and thinner, as I rushed to the mirror after a particularly large clump came out I was convinced I would have a bald patch on top of my skull. But it wasn't too bad until it started growing back. Now I look like a Chia Pet. The top of my forehead is covered in one inch baby hairs that stick straight up and there's no amount of hairspray that will make them stay down. Try as I might with my spray, my brush and my hairdryer the little suckers won't lie flat.

So if you're in the mall or the grocery store with your baby bump and your thick pregnancy hair and you spot a woman with bags under her eyes, Cheerios stuck to her sweatshirt, and what looks like a hair cut that went horribly wrong please give her a smile. Because that woman could be you one day.

I'm not worthy

The hubby, the child and I just arrived home from attending a festive holiday shindig at a friend's home. The house was decorated beautifully, and there was good food and drink for all. It was a wonderful party. Oh, and did I mention she invited 183 people?

I'll give you a moment, dear reader, to let this sink in.

183 people. Can you get your mind around that?

I'll give you another minute.

Did I mention she was a new mother to a 6 month old?

Need another second?

Oh my God... They invited 183 people!! And 128 ACCEPTED the invitation!! That means its possible that 128 friends, relatives, neighbors, kids and babes-in-arms were in their home in a 6 hour time period. 128 PEOPLE IN THEIR HOME!!! I'm lucky if in a 24 hour period I can vacuum my house, load the dishwasher, shower and do my hair, and get the child out of her pajamas and dressed in suitable clothing. Besides, I don't think I even know 183 people, never mind like them enough to invite them to my home. I bow at her feet.

I'm such a slacker. I think I'll take a nap.

I'm a terrible, selfish person and I'm going to Hell

I'm sure you know the drill, dear reader. When you're single you get asked "When are you going to find a boy/girlfriend?". When you're finally in a committed relationship you get "When are you getting married?". And when you're finally married, when the ink isn't even dry on your marriage license yet, you inevitably hear "When are you having children?". The hubby and I made it very clear that we would be married for at least a year before we even got pregnant. And when we did we got the usual questions - boy or girl, name of the baby, epidural or natural, are you ever going to stop puking and put on some weight, blah, blah, blah.

When the child arrived I thought we were done with the prying questions about our life for a while. I thought I would be the one asking questions. "How do I get this demon child to sleep!" was one that came up a lot. "How far can a crying newborn fly when thrown from an open window?" was one that I often asked but, strangely, I never got an answer. I was not prepared for how soon after the birth of our blessed offspring that we would hear "So, when are you having another one?" Another one? Let me put a band-aid on my cracked and bleeding nipples then I'll grab the hubby and we'll start making another one. Why not two or three.

Actually, it was not so much a question as an assumption. Whenever I was having a particularly hard time with Julia I would always hear that the next time, with the NEXT ONE it would be easier. I don't remember signing up for a second one just yet, if ever! Right now I enjoy having one and I've made it perfectly clear on several thousand occasions to my husband that a second one was not on my priority list. And, to his credit, he is okay with having one child. Though, I never rule anything out - I've learned the hard way to never say never - but, honestly, right now I don't want a second one. I know this makes me a horrible person... How could I possibly leave my dear, beloved baby an only child!! Well, I'll tell ya.

For starters - Growing up my sister and I had a ridiculously close relationship, especially for two girls who were four years apart. Adults wept when they saw us together, particularly when they compared us to their own spawn. We're still extremely close, she is undoubtedly my best friend. She was at the birth of my daughter. She held my right leg while the husband was holding the left. Well, typically, lightning doesn't strike twice. I don't think I could deal with having two kids who did not have the same fantastic relationship that my sister and I share. I realize that I could have kids who love each other, that probably won't maim, or at least cause long term physical damage to each other. But there are other reasons too. I like my life the way it is. I like having some time with my hubby. I like the idea of taking vacations as a family, or paying for college without having to sell more than one organ. And I hate feeling pressured to have another baby. I was that kid that if you tried to force me to say the sky was blue, I would say it was red.

My family is less than thrilled with my decision. Even my sister-in-law, my dear, sweet, ridiculously smart, DOCTOR, sister-in-law thinks that if we only have one baby then Julia will grow up to be spoiled. Talk about unfair. I love my sister-in-law, don't get me wrong, but I expected more from her. For now I guess I'll just smile and nod whenever anyone suggests that the next baby will be a piece of cake compared to the first. It will be 'cause I'm not having one and you can't make me. So nnnaaahh.

I'm slacking

Its been a while since I've posted. I blame it on the holiday, the baby, the fact that the husband took last week off from work. But really its because I'm a procrastinator and I'm lazy. I create all sorts of entries in my head but the thought of getting them out of there and onto a computer screen is daunting. This is why I was such a terrible student in High School and College. I knew what I wanted to do, what I wanted to write but I just couldn't get it out of my head. By the time I took up a pen or sat in front of a typewriter (yep, I did most of my COLLEGE papers on a typewriter. I was afraid of computers then. Stupid, stupid, stupid.) I couldn't keep up with the deluge of thoughts coming from my brain. So, even though I was very clear of thought, I was a mess on paper. I know I should get one of those mini tape recorders to record my thoughts and then transfer them to paper or computer, but I haven't gotten around to it yet. They say procrastination is a sign of perfectionism (is that even a word? It is now.), that most people who are procrastinators are so fearful of getting it wrong. So they put it off and put it off until they are forced to do it NOW. Yeah, I'm going with that. I'm not lazy. I'm a perfectionist. My family is so proud.

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The child got her first teeth recently. One last week and one this week. I didn't think there could be anything as sharp as puppy teeth - boy, was I wrong. She's figuring out what she can do with them, like chew on her spoon when I'm trying to feed her. As long as she doesn't try out those new chompers when she's nursing, we'll be okay. I have to say, she came through this new teeth thing pretty well - very little pain (as far as I know, she still can't talk - slacker.) and very little fussing. When she seemed a little cranky we decided to skip the Tylenol and went straight to the Tequila. It seemed to work well.
Just kidding. I wanted an excuse to post this picture. She'll hate me when she's old enough to see this blog, but that's what being a parent is all about. To make her happy I'll post another one.
Pretty soon I'll be taking the dog's chew toys out of Julia's mouth. Oh what fun we'll have then.

On my mind...

Thoughts while watching "The Biggest Loser" and finding it disturbing to think Matt is sorta cute for an overly emotional former wrestler...

I no longer think the child sounds like a monkey at dinner time (except when she's screaming, then she sounds like a Howler Monkey). Now I believe she sounds like Frankenstein when she wants her food shoved in her mouth faster than I can scoop it out of the bowl. "Huh, HUHHH, Hnnnn, Huh! Mmmmm, Hnnn."

What criteria do you have to meet to become a photographer at one of those chain family photo places in the mall? There are no words to accurately convey how I feel about this.

Am I the only one psyched up for the National Dog Show on Thanksgiving Day? Probably, huh?

I love Starbuck's new Gingerbread Latte. Loooove it.

Why does my husband insist on reading aloud to me from whatever it is he's reading and finds interesting at that moment when clearly I'm completely engrossed in whatever I'm reading at that moment?

Mmmmm... Red meat. Fleshy, oozing, melt in your mouth beef. It's not just what's for dinner. It also pisses off the hard-core vegetarians. That makes me happy.

I don't care what the hubby says, yes I do enjoy treating my daughter like a little doll that I can play dress-up with. And I'm not ashamed of that.

Way to go, Gov. Mitt, I'm sure the alcohol distributors will be happy to contribute to your presidential campaign now.

The guy who plays Dr. House is crazy sexy-ugly. Scratch that, he's just sexy. Is there a female equivalent for sexy-ugly?

Baby Update

The child turned 7 months yesterday. I have to say I am really enjoying this age, she's a lot of fun. Julia is now up on her hands and knees rocking back and forth. She'll be crawling any day now (goodbye couch, you've always been there for me. I'll sit with you again one day). She's got a mega-watt smile and she charms everyone she meets - as long as they don't try to hold her! She rolls like crazy and usually ends up under the couch (I'll try to post a photo of that when I have a change to upload it). Apparently there was a skit on SNL about the baby Swiffer, but we just call it fleecy pajamas. No need to vacum under the couch, let the kid roll and do all the work for you!
She's a champion sleeper finally - can you hear the Hallelujiah Chorus? I can, every time I get a full night sleep. And she's a fantastic eater. If you put food in front of her it will disappear in no time flat. If she could say "More!" she would, but for now she'll just have to grunt like a hungry monkey (no lie, she sounds like a monkey). I wonder where she gets that insatiable appetite? Hmmm. She now eats applesauce, bananas, pears (her favorite), squash, sweet potatos, green beans, peas, mangos (her second favorite), carrots, mashed potatos, cereal (she loves her oatmeal), yogurt, cheerios and toast. The dogs were very happy when we started with the cheerios since more end up on the floor than in her mouth. We tried pureed turkey the other day (gotta get her ready for Thanksgiving) and I thought for sure she would hate it. After the first bite there was a great sucking noise and I was left with an empty bowl and a grunting monkey-baby.
She still loves bath time, especially since toys are now involved. But if you try to pour water over her head you will soon incur the wrath of Cranky Baby's even more evil twin, Screaming Baby. She lets me do goofy things with her hair, though - much to Aaron's chagrin. :)

High-Pressure Sales Pitch

When did navigating the mall become an Olympic sport? The first floor Giant Slalom - between Macy's and the food court.

I went to the mall the other day to buy my daughter a Christmas outfit. I innocently thought that I could put Julia in her stroller, wheel her over to the store of my choice, buy the outfit and then leave. Silly Mommy. Now you have to do the bob and weave through a different breed of shopping - the Mall Kiosks. Ah, the good old days of the mall - popping into to different stores with little interuption. Sure, you'd occassionally run into a particularly cheeky sales person who worked for commission, but for the most part you could browse in relative peace. Now there are vendors lined down the center of the mall aisles selling everything from Tupperware to t-shirts to fake hair. Also, stuffed animals, jewelry and - get this - replacement windows! (I don't know about you but when I think of windows, I think of heading to my local mall.) And if this wasn't bad enough, now you get accosted every 5 feet by another person from one of these kiosks, like barkers in a carnival - "Ma'am, I'd like to talk to you about your cell phone plan." Or, "Ma'am could I give you this?" (Whatever "this" was!! I have no idea, I didn't give them the opportunity.)

Now, I'm constantly on the lookout - as a new Mom I guess I have a bullseye on my forehead, so I've learned to walk very fast. But I almost got caught the day we were looking for the Christmas outfit... As we were heading to the mall exit the baby chucked her toy off the side of the stroller (Shocking!). Up ahead I saw that I was spotted by a kiosk employee. I had to make a quick decision - save ourselves, leave the toy and incur the wrath of Cranky Baby or try to grab it without getting roped into a 15 minute sales pitch. This was not much of a choice, so I leaned down, swiped the toy off the floor and continued walking in one fluid motion. It was beautiful. As I sailed past I heard the man say "Ma'am, are you interested in a music CD customized with your baby's name?" Are you kidding me? But I gave him my most gracious smile and a "No, thank you" and we were outta there before he could say anymore.

We'll have to go back again, but I know what to look out for now. Swerve left around the cell phones, right around the electronic place and left again by the Christmas ornaments. But since I'm postpartum, maybe I should stop by the fake hair - I could use some!