August? What?

That's the last time I graced you three (two? Four?) with my presence? Okay. Sorry. It's been a while. Here's the haps.

The toddler took over the house. I mean we were like mere swear words away from having to call Supernanny. So we Ferberized. Us?! What?! Devotees of Dr. Sears actually allowed our child to cry for more than ten seconds? Yes, and the best thing I have done so far. I'm not going to say I was wrong for avoiding it all this time, I'm going to tell you that you both MUST be ready to do this, and we both were. He doesn't know that he was ready, but I'm pretty sure he'll figure it out in the next 16 years or so, and he'll thank me in his valedictory speech. Yay me!

The toddler got big. But his feet got bigger. We had to snip the toes of his 24-month jams. Hobo toes, we call them.

The toddler had a virus, he required a nebulizer treatment. That was unpleasant.

The toddler got a haircut, from mama. That was more traumatic than the nebulizer (and sadly the Mama did not get to inhale any of the good stuff during the haircut like she did during the nebulizer). He now looks very tall, and very old.

The toddler is not yet talking. The pediatrician is not worried, and so neither am I, but I am still tempting him to talk my having a complete gutter mouth around him. We'll see how that goes. In a way, I'm dying for him to start talking. In a way, I am dying for him to keep running around going "daddydaddydoh. Daddydaddydoh." I mean, that is SO way cuter than "more please." or "nononono," or "mama you suck," am I right?!

I will try to update more. Because did you know people get paid for this if they're good at it? Tell your friends!

I respectfully disagree

Dear Commercial Lady Who Says "It's time to get real about what happens in the bathroom,"

No, it's not.

What's with this new rash of commercials about toilet paper being left behind? I don't care if you cute it up with bears. No one needs to talk about that.

Sincerely,

Watches Too Much TV

PS I'm not even going to touch the Hail to the V commercials because WRONG, WRONG, WRONG.

You can do it!

A phenomenon I've come to watch with some interest, and - because I will probably never have to do it - a teeny amount of amusement: the training of the mail truck drivers. They come and use our hill once a week or so, presumably because it is so steep. Driving a mail truck must not be easy, because they often drive right up over the curb.

The funniest part is that Reid, Jesse, and Caffrey all run to the front door to watch also. Again, I can laugh because I don't have to do it: imagine you are training to drive a mail truck on a really super steep hill, you keep driving over the curb because the steering wheel is on the wrong side of the dang truck, and then you look over and 2 dogs and a toddler are watching you intently. See? It's funny. If you never have to do it.

That Damn Donna Reed

I would very much like to go back to a 50s and 60s way of living. I love staying home with Reid. I love cleaning my house. I love the feeling of sitting down after a long day of cleaning my house and smelling Lysol. I like to cook. I want to wear aprons while I do so. I want a sewing machine so I can make aprons. I want to sew curtains and pillows and skirts.

I want to finish the sweater I started knitting back in April.

I want to make thoughtful handmade gifts that look pretty and are useful.

I want to bake cookies or casseroles or cakes for friends who are having a baby or a birthday or a rough day or because it's Tuesday and who wouldn't like a casserole or a cake?

I want to make pot roast.

I don't actually know what pot roast is. But it's good to have goals.

(if anyone can tell me the origin of the title of this post, you win the satisfaction of knowing the origin of the title of this post)

the sleep issue

It's been about 3 weeks now, so I figure this is the way it's going to be for a while and I can talk about it and not jinx it: Reid's been sleeping through the night. From around 8 until 5:30, at which time I nurse him and he usually sleeps for a little while longer.

How did we do it, you are wondering? Or you're not wondering, but you're still reading so you are either idly curious or you are bored. So I'll tell you: we didn't do a thing. He just did it. So for all those people who insisted that babies will not sleep through the night on their own, and that sleep training is needed: HA! Hahahahahahaha. HA.

Unpopular Opinion

Boys' clothes are cuter than girls' clothes.

There. I said it.

Oh my narsty.

Narsty is a word I made up* that means super, super nasty.

*of course I didn't make it up, you can urban dictionary even a bunch of random letters and find that it exists as a word (and, for those who are more sensitive, said word usually means something narsty so consider yourself warned).**

**Yes, I know I'm supposed to follow up with the asterisks at the end of the post, but I always forget.

Anyway. I saw a recipe for pasta salad the other day, and I wanted to make it. A note about food: this is so bizarre to me, but it really has become about fuel. I don't feel like making elaborate meals anymore, I just feel like getting the hunger to go away. This is SO not me, but I guess it is a side effect of hanging out with a very active little guy who also happens to cry if I disappear into the kitchen for more than 2 seconds. (I think this has also contributed to the couple of pounds I've recently put on - 2 frozen pizzas and 2 dinners of Kraft mac n cheese in one week...sigh. In keeping with my general philosophy of balance, I have added spinach to the mac n cheese and served both dishes with a giant helping of veggies, but...sigh) (actually, speaking of balance, I have also quit the 2-a-day workouts and instead opted to relax and knit and enjoy some me-time a little more. If a couple of pounds came back as a result of that, I'm okay with it).

So this pasta salad...I could have written down the ingredients and gone to the store, but a combination of laziness and disinterest prevented that. So at the store, I found boxed pasta salad on sale - 3 for $3.19. OK! I got three different kinds and was happy about it. Something quick and easy to put with the barbecue chicken sandwiches on the menu, as well as a nice side for future grilling.

OMG. People. Gagworthy. Narsty. The moral of this story is that shortcuts are bad and fresh, healthy ingredients are good. Lesson re-learned. It's back to the kitchen (and the produce section) I go. But I really don't know what to do about the other two boxes of that stuff. I guess I can donate it to a food bank, but that seems a little "this tastes awful, here, you try!" to me.

Does anyone want them? I'll give you a good price.