Category Archives: Humor

You Bet

I joined Las Madres a couple months ago. I found there’s a group for mothers age 40+. Tonight there’s a Mother’s Night Out potluck. Do ya think I’ll be there? I plan on it. I can sacrifice an early bedtime for a chance to make new friends and find support.

A question: Would I be an evil person, in that I’m wasting a precious resource, if I run the dishwasher only partly full in the morning because the sound helps my daughter sleep in her swing? If the answer is yes, does the fact that it’s loaded with baby bottle paraphernalia, and that I use the extra hot water and sanitize settings to get them really clean, forgive this?

LOL For Geeks

I’m sorry I’m posting so many images today (for those who have dial-up connection). But this tickled my geeky-bloggy funnybone. Since I’m a master of bad HTML coding, I must share. For those who don’t know, these are hexadecimal color codes used to make the pretty colors on the blogs you read.

funny pictures
moar funny pictures

P.S. I should post when I can now, right, because as soon as Pixie’s able to move on her own I’ll have no time to blog.

The Forecast Is Variable

Yesterday was a remarkably good day, considering. Bean had a good morning and napped in her swing. In the afternoon she was tired, and I thought I’d try the crib. First I rocked her until drowsy with the routine as Husband does it (consistency is good, yes?). Her eyes became heavy and she was nearly asleep; I put her down in the crib just as Husband does. Her eyelids flew up like broken blinds, practically flapping up to her eyebrows. Squirm. Wiggle. Whimper. Preparing The Face. The Dreaded Chin of Doom began to emerge. She was winding up to pitch a major fit.

I took off the swaddle in case that was what bothered her (she doesn’t fight it with Husband though). Rocked her. No dice. Rather than fight with her and go through the rock/hold then put down and scream/fight, ad nauseum, I chose my battle. I put her in the swing, flipping my finger in the face of one of The Baby Sleep Experts who says motionless sleep provides better quality rest. I made her cozy with a lovely blanket from Emy (it’s the perfect heft and weight, is washable wool, and it’s handmade with love). Then I crammed in my earplugs and sat there on the sofa next to her, determined to ride out her storm. Oh, my nerves jangled, but I grit my teeth.

Twenty minutes later, after whimpering and grousing, she was sleeping angelically. She didn’t wake until 2:40 p.m. Then she guzzled four ounces, and I put her in the bouncer to watch out the window. I decided to attempt to start dinner. And imagine this, I was able to get the whole dish assembled! I looked at Bean and said, Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?

Nana Eileen came by late afternoon around 4:00, and we had a lovely visit. She played with Bean and Bean was cheerful. Bean got tired, on the verge of fussy, so I put her in the swing while we visited. She fell asleep for a catnap around 5:00 — 20 minutes. Eventually Eileen had to leave.

And wouldn’t you know it… 20 minutes later the Hurricane made landfall. At 6:10 I changed Bean, and as soon as I finished she began to cry. And cry. And sob. And scream. I held her while sitting on the sofa, wishing Husband would get home soon. I watched my little girl as she wailed and writhed for 20 minutes in my arms. (She seems to like that timeframe, and yes, I do track the time a great deal. Go ahead and laugh.) Then she stopped, heaved a sigh, and looked in my eyes. I talked to her. I said, “You must be so very tired. You just don’t know what to do with yourself. Poor girl.” She smiled faintly and then cooed. She stuck out her tongue. I smiled back. One second later she was back to screaming. Okey-dokey. We’ll just ride this out!

Five minutes after the encore, she stopped, and Husband arrived home. He ate my lovely dinner; I held her on my lap at the table so we could all visit. She was calm and cute, but (can you guess what’s next?) after about 20 minutes she started the wind-up again. We promptly bathed her. He then swaddled her and rocked her to drowsiness, and she immediately fell asleep and stayed asleep in the crib until 9:30 p.m., when she woke as expected for a bottle. After she ate, she fell asleep again within minutes. Daddy has the magic. I want some too!

Today has also been even-keeled and happy. She’s eaten and napped well, and we took a walk. Now she’s sleeping in the swing and she didn’t even fuss first. We’ll see what happens as the evening arrives.

You know, it occurs to me that it’s not Bean who has a problem with crying. It’s her Momma. Somehow eventually she and I need to work out a nap arrangement that allows her to be in a safe, quiet place (maybe her crib, imagine that!). Her being in the swing means I don’t feel comfortable doing anything in another part of the house; plus I feel I need to be more quiet than usual.

Well, that’s an update. I hope it was entertaining and that you enjoyed my use of mixed metaphors — variety is the spice of life. Also, I took this photo today after our walk. Sweet, eh?

Bean and stella watch birds

Stella Introduces Bean to Kitty Television

A Little Humor

emergency bacon

Emergency Bacon

Husband brought this home for me from work. This is a routine snack in their fridge — “microwave 60 seconds and enjoy.” I was at wits’ end with a crying baby, so he thought I needed this.

P.S. After 25 minutes of hysterical crying (not me, my daughter) I went back and picked her up to rock her. She went instantly limp into a doze in my arms. Husband came home 20 minutes later and she woke. He held her for 20 minutes, talked quietly, she fell asleep, and now she is asleep in her crib. It’s not fair! (But I’m grateful that he is such a good father and that she will fall asleep for someone.)

Message From?

Last night the battery on my laptop died.

First, two laptop power cords have been (presumably) chewed through by the cat, requiring their disposal. Now my laptop battery is konked out.

I still have one cord left and am in the office madly typing this. Soon the baby will wake and I’ll not get back into this room again until evening, probably.

I ask (only partly in jest): Perhaps the universe is trying to tell me something?

Two Quotes On The Mind

He may be mad, but there’s method in his madness. There nearly always is method in madness. It’s what drives men mad, being methodical.

–GK Chesterton

Do you agree or disagree? Discuss. Be sure to show your work.

Why is it that our memory is good enough to retain the least triviality that happens to us, and yet not good enough to recollect how often we have told it to the same person?

–Francois de La Rochefoucauld

I seem to do this more frequently these days!

Pastimes

We don’t watch television anymore, at least not together. So right now I’m catching up on recorded episodes of Chuck. I also plan to catch up on Dirty Sexy Money eventually. However, I will probably pass on old episodes of Reaper. It’s kind of a replicate of Chuck (slacker guy with best buddy work in retail and have whacky adventures), but I think Chuck (the main character) is much hotter and more adorable. When I go to bed (in half an hour), Husband will have his much-needed quiet time (if our little girl will oblige him by staying asleep) and watch them too.

This evening I escaped for a few minutes to Barnes and Noble, where I indulged myself with the following:

What Mothers Do: Especially When It Looks Like Nothing (since I spend hours sitting in the rocking chair holding her, I need something to read)

Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind (recommended by Karen)

Walt Disney Records : Children’s Favorite Songs, Vol. 1: 25 Classic Tunes (because the only tune I can remember of late is Frére Jacques; I make up words as I sing to her, narrating our activities)

Bean’s colic is still… colicky. Husband came home and took over with Screaming Mimi. She’s so exhausted. As are we.

At This Moment

I’m sitting in the living room on my green sofa. To my left, Stella is curled sleeping on a Winnie-the-Pooh blanket. To my right, Bean is tucked into her swing, sleeping. Both are snoring. How precious is that?

Last night I mentioned something I’d written here, and Husband said, “I thought you weren’t going to turn your blog into a Mommy blog?” I protested I hadn’t, and he asked, “What’s the last thing you posted that wasn’t about Bean?” I hesitated a few seconds and he said that his point was proven. Then I remembered I’d posted a Storypeople quote, but he teased me about how long it took to remember.

So in the interest of diversification for you readers and for me (I can sing more than one tune!), I’ll be making an effort to blog about other stuff. I promise.

At Little Less Conversation, A Little More (Contr)action*

It is now near 9:00 p.m. on Thursday. Below is what I wrote earlier today, but did not publish at the time because Husband asked me to wait and breathe a bit.
———-
Written Thursday morning around 9:00 a.m.

With the exception of a couple hours of dozing, I’ve been awake since 9:30 a.m. on September 5. I had more pain than I anticipated from the gel.

This post was supposed to announce we were leaving home to start the induction.

My OB said she scheduled the induction for midnight 9/6. But at the hospital Wednesday night (getting gel) we were told they don’t do inductions that way. We explained what our doctor had told us, and the nurse said she didn’t see on the schedule book that we were slotted in to come in at midnight. We were told to call at 6:30 a.m. Thursday to ask if there was room.

You know where this is leading, right?

I called at 6:30 a.m. and was told there is no room, all 12 are occupied. And oh, I’m scheduled to come in at midnight anyway. WTF??!! I explained what happened last night, that we were told that’s not how it worked and no record of that appointment was found. I was told to call back at 8:30 a.m. to see if there is room.

I just called at 8:33 and the charge nurse insisted that I was not scheduled until midnight September 7. I explained again, and she said, basically, “So sorry, but you’ll have to call at 11 p.m. tonight to see if we can take you. Or you can call your OB and reschedule for another time that’s more convenient.” More convenient?! I replied that I am at 41 weeks, 4 days, and it was my doctor’s request to schedule me. Her reply, “Perhaps you should call your OB and get things straightened out.”

End of call. I officially went ballistic. Husband is now taking over the job of calling people and negotiating things.

10 minutes later

Husband has just talked with our OB’s nurse. Nothing can be done; the hospital isn’t taking any inductions today. So we wait. I simply cannot find the humor in this. Someday it will make a fun story.
—————–
I did manage to get some sleep, about three hours Thursday morning after I wrote this, until the roofers came back from 1:00-4:00, and then two hours more after they left. My OB called a few moments ago to check in and said labor & delivery was packed all day with laboring women non-stop but that it seems that things are quieting down. We talked a bit about the schedule mess and how crazy this all made me; she’s very empathetic, and I felt much better by the end of the call. The hospital might call us soon to come in. If we don’t hear by 11:00 p.m., we’re to call them and see if things are quiet enough. They may not be, in which case we just continue waiting. In the wee hours last night I had contractions 30 minutes apart for a couple hours, but nothing since. We’ll see.

I hope that the next post will be a birth announcement. I’ve written a draft and a friend is going to fill in the particulars about the baby. Any further posts regaling you about the actual birth experience will probably come much, much later. I’m certain I’ll be exhausted.

Oh, about baby photos. I’ll be posting them on Flickr, not the blog, and they’ll be visible to friends and family only. So if you have an account there, make me a contact and I’ll set your status to friend. If you don’t have a Flickr account, you can open one (it’s free). Once you create an account, designate me as a contact by going to my profile and in the upper right corner, clicking “add Mindful One as a contact.” This triggers an email notifying me, and then I’ll make you a contact with the correct status. It might take me a couple days to get to the email, so please be patient.

*Tip of the hat to Elvis.

Time For Fun

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is hardly a waste of time.

–John Lubbock

So while my daughter rests suspended in her dark, cozy, warm room listening to the rhythm of my heart and being nourished through her belly, I too will be sure to rest. I came home from my doctor appointment and slept for several hours.

In the past week I’ve softened a little bit but not dilated, and my babe still hangs high. We’ve scheduled an induction for September 6 (I’ll be 41 and 1/2 weeks). I was assured that if by next week I’m no riper and she’s not lower, we can change that to a planned C-section. By waiting until the 6th we give her more opportunity to initiate labor on her own.

So I have two more weeks to be with her in this way — and two more weeks to take the advice of the wife of Husband’s coworker to have some fun (some of these made me laugh out loud):

  • Go to Safeway and buy a pregnancy test. If anyone asks, tell them you have some suspicions.
  • Go out to lunch all by yourself — someplace with cloth napkins and no crayons/coloring page placemats. Eat whatever you want. Linger over dessert.
  • Watch a whole movie from start to finish in one sitting without interruption.
  • Change your answering machine message to: “Yes, we had the baby and we didn’t tell you. Don’t you feel foolish for not calling to find out more often?”
  • If people ask when you are due — tell them November, triplets.
  • If you find yourself in a long line, crumple forward and moan — presto! New line opens just for you.
  • Pedicure, pedicure, pedicure — this is the time that you can get the extra leg massage for free.
  • The notion that sex induces labor is lie perpetrated by husbands.

Life’s Little Jokes

Guess what? Husband received a jury summons for the dates of September 10 through 14.

There is a way of requesting exemption because one cares for a child between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m., but the court requires the name and birthday of said child (or children). Little One hasn’t arrived yet, but she certainly will have (I hope) by then! Since he needs to submit his request now, though, this impending arrival may not qualify.

He already served as a phone stand-by for a different court earlier this year. But the wording of the current document is bureaucratic (i.e., unclear) enough that he’s going to call tomorrow to request exemption.

They’ve got to say yes. Please. It’s his third jury summons since moving here three years ago, and he fulfilled his duty the first two times.

I did learn that pregnancy apparently doesn’t exempt a woman (but I assume if you are called to show up and they see you’re pregnant, you’re unlikely to be chosen); breastfeeding, however, does. What if they won’t excuse a man who is just about to experience the birth of his first child and will be on leave from work taking care of his family? Ugh.

They might excuse him. Sometimes, though, I struggle to remain in the present and to remember to deal with what is real at the moment. It’s very tempting to fret, but absolutely not useful.

The Countdown

Today was the first of my weekly OB visits. So, when is Little One making her debut?

According to my doctor (who gave me an exam), it’s not likely she’ll arrive before her due date on August 27. There’s no dilation. She is head down, but she hasn’t dropped. Once she drops into the pelvic opening, she’s kind of “locked in” and won’t flip. Here’s hoping she doesn’t get all excited about something and flip herself laterally or upright. So, my doctor said, “You’ve got time. Make a getaway to Santa Cruz, or San Francisco. Enjoy it!” This means when my brother comes to visit during my 39th week, he won’t have to deal firsthand with his sister raving through labor pain. One caveat from my doctor, though: things can change. I’m rather enjoying this period of wondering.

We also reviewed my one-page “birth preferences” document. I don’t put much stock in a birth plan — in fact I think the concept is rather amusing — it’s a natural event and has too many variables to really plan. However, I decided it was worth noting my preferences for labor positions, pain management, postpartum care, and so on, all of which are flexible if other measures are needed. The doctor made helpful suggestions about some things to change and was generally satisfied with it. She was especially pleased it was only one page. She’s seen birth plans that are six pages long, and she said, “Believe me, the nurses don’t read beyond page one. There’s so much going on.” Fortunately for us, a friend of mine has offered to be a coach alongside Husband. She’s had two children before, and I appreciate her willingness to assist, especially since she’s in the second trimester of her third pregnancy. She’ll be able to look after me, make suggestions to Husband on how he can comfort me, and they can help each other take breaks as they need. If I’m really lucky, my labor will be like my mother’s — with her first child it took about eight hours, and the rest of us were also pretty short.

One change to note: in the past two weeks, I lost 1.5 pounds. Little One is growing bigger and her heartbeat is good. It’s just too hot to eat a lot, and I don’t have much room. Doctor said there’s no need to be concerned; I have ample reserves!

In general I feel fine, except that the heat really sucks my energy out, and then I feel crabby and as though I’m wearing lead weights. Several people suggested I try swimming, and I finally took their advice. Our community has a small pool; this evening I immersed myself for 40 minutes. (Glory be, my bathing suit fit, although it, um, looked rather like it’d been spray-painted on me.) It was delicious to be in the water.

Tomorrow we’re hosting the final “Last Chance to See” dinner with friends. We also aim to get to The Bourne Ultimatum this weekend, which might be the last theater excursion for awhile. We’re just following a friend’s advice: “Go see a movie in July. Select it carefully. Remember that it could be up to a year and a half that you say this picture’s name every time you speak the words, ‘The last movie we saw was…’ And this is important: see something better than Mark Wahlberg in Planet of the Apes.” 🙂

I Am Not a Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bomb*

I took the three-hour glucose test and…

I passed!! My fasting baseline was 90, which I was told is very good. I didn’t bother getting the rest of the scores; I’m pleased enough to know I passed. I can assume my scores at each hour fell below the maximums listed (from BabyCenter.com):

Abnormal Scores
Fasting: 95 mg/dl or higher
One hour: 180 mg/dl or higher
Two hours: 155 mg/dl or higher
Three hours: 140 mg/dl or higher

The nurse said if even one score had been abnormal they would have diagnosed me with gestational diabetes. The doctor still requires I watch my intake of sugar and carbohydrates (makes sense), which I’ve done all along. This means, however, I will give up the one thing I crave and have permitted myself up until now: Concord grape juice (100% no sugar added). I was drinking one 8 ounce glass a day; the combination of sweet and tart, and that particular taste of Concord grape, is like the Nectar of Life to me. As cravings go, it’s not a particularly bad one. Even so, I’ll be curtailing consumption.

The woman I chatted with yesterday was four months pregnant. She’d had gestational diabetes with her first child, so they were testing her early. Talking with her brought the point home that it’s not a woman’s “fault” if she has it (although poor diet surely has an effect): she’s very slim, professes to hate sugar and sweet foods (which I believe, as she’s Indian; over the years, a lot of folks I’ve met from Asia have been puzzled by the American obsession with desserts and sweets), and is a vegetarian. And yet she still had it once and might again.

I’m glad I decided to tough it out and take the test.

*One of my favorite comic strips, Calvin and Hobbes, featured a fictional cereal called Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs. From the website:

Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes fame has been known to eat Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs which Calvin says are “tasty, lip-smacking, crunchy-on-the-outside, chewy-on-the-inside, and they don’t have a single natural ingredient or essential vitamin to get in the way of that rich, fudgy taste.” Hobbes says the cereal makes his heart skip and likens this cereal to “eating a bowl of milk duds”.