Connor's list of words

I keep meaning to write down an official list of Connor's words to date, but I keep forgetting. Since I haven't written about anything else over the past week or so, I figure I'll go ahead and do it now.

Connor likes to say, Dada, Dadee, Mama, Cheese, Uh-Oh, Nah?(no), DayDo (Thank you), Sissy (Sippy), Ball, Bye!, Hey!, bubble, side (outside)

Connor can say" Gege (kitty), Glasses, Cookie, no, nose, game, hello, more, nite, juice, outside and bottle, TV, all done, gentle, silly

Connor mostly says, Dadee, Mama, Bye, Hey, Nah, Side, Bubble and Uh-oh

It's hard being Mommy

I've been trying to get the house together like a mad-woman. The nesting instinct is strong and I'm doing all I can to hurry up and get it done. I know I have gobs of time before everything needs to be set up and I have the rest of my life to decorate, but I'm just so anxious to be settled. After living in apartments and rental houses for the past several years, I still stop before putting a nail in the wall to think about the patch job I'm going to have to do when we move out. I guess it hasn't completely sunk in yet.

Because we are officially in a new place and now have the space for it, we've set up the pack and play to begin "Time Out's" for Connor. It just so happens that right about the time that we moved, Connor began his testing phase. So he completely ignores, "No" and does whatever he's doing, again, and again and again and again to see what happens. Now that we have his "Time out" area set up, it basically means that we are just putting him into time out, again and again and again and again and again. He's not much phased by this. I've tried yelling at him. Which he thinks is funny. I'm tried the pop on the hand, which he also thinks is funny. The thing is, there is nothing that you can do to phase the kid. He's just going to keep on keeping on, because certainly stealing a full cup of coffee off of the kitchen table that he has climbed onto is worth sitting alone in his pack and play in the dining room for three minutes. Or five minutes. Or ten minutes. Now he's like, "SWEET! I'm in the pack and play. Now I can continue working on ripping off the floor pad on this thing." Is this a boy thing? Or is this a kid thing? Right when I had gotten the baby thing down now there is something new to learn. How to deal with a toddler. A toddler and is teaching himself how to have full blown throw yourself on the floor and cry because Mommy took the plastic spork away from you. Temper tantrums about not being allow to flush the toliet 15 times in a row. Temper tantrums about coming inside from the yard because it's started raining. By the end of the day I'm ready to throw myself on the floor and cry. How good would that feel? Just to lay on the floor and inconsolably cry until suddenly you were fine enough to wander over and harrass the cat for a while.

What? You think I'm being silly? Just you try to install child proof locks on all of the cabinets with a drill, 20 plasic pieces, 40 screws, a drill, a screw driver and a toddler who wants to either sit in your lap and while pointing at your nose or take advantage of the fact that the cabinet door is open during the project, which is a perfect time to remove everything from the cabinet and take it into the living room for further inspection. Yeah, you'd be wanting to have a temper tantrum too. Or at least a hot bath and some ice cream. Which is tonights method of medication.
It's hard being Mommy.

Who needs sleep?

It's done. We've moved to the new house! The new house currently looks like a bomb has exploded inside but we are making some headway. Connor is helping with the unpacking, (sigh) so the process is really slow.
We've only been here for 5 days but I feel like we've lived here forever. It feels like home. It's so nice to actually have SPACE! We have CLOSETS! We have a PLAYROOM! We have a mouse-free kitchen!
Connor is adjusting quite well, but the cat, not so much. He still wanders around the house yowling in the wee hours of the morning, only content when in the same room that we are in. The problem is, he wants to explore the house and exploring the house removes him from the room that we are in, thus the howling begins. We have a squirt bottle but have discussed purchasing a super-soaker. Hopefully his walnut sized brain will have the house mapped out by the weekend and he'll stop howling. I hope so, we need sleep around here.

Just shoot me

I haven't been writing that much lately because we've been trying to get everything together for the new house we just bought today! We love it! Unfortunately however, the little one is still sick with his ear infection and had to have his antibiotic changed. I also, have somehow while on an antibiotic for bronchitis managed to aquire a sinus infection which is making me completely miserable. I must not have had one before because I can't remember feeling this miserable, well, since I got my tonsils out, but hell, I expected that and it was for the greater good, so it wasn't so awful. This is awful. I really wanted to be excited about our first house today... but in between the thoughts, of, We just bought a house! We have a yard! We have an upstairs!, were the other thoughts that were generated by my illness. Just shoot me. Ohmygod my face hurts. This sucks. I'm miserable. You know... sick-like thoughts.
So, I'll blog again soon, provided my sinus infection hasn't killed me first. I can't wait to brag about our new place.

Mommy the elephant

Jorma to Connor while they look at Jungle Animals Placemat: "Can you show Daddy the elephant?"

Connor: Turns and points to Mommy

Me: "NO,NO, Baby. We do NOT point at Mommy when Daddy says, where is the elephant!"

Connor: Laughs, (mostly because we are) and then high fives Daddy.

And we are having another. God help me.

The mom cut

HA! You thought I was just threatening to do it didn't you? You thought I would never have the courage. You thought I would never go through with it. Well I did. Yesterday, I cut off all of my hair. That's right. I now have a "Mom cut".

I always, always swore that I would never get a mom cut. I always swore that I wouldn't cut my long luscious locks even if I had ten children. I always swore this... before I actually had kids. What I didn't know is, it's fine to keep your long beautimus hair, as long as you don't mind it being stuck together in sections by dried banana and baby snot.

I did mind so I started putting is back in a knot at the nape of my neck. That's right, you've seen it... the bun. And that's the way I wore it. Each. And Every. Single. Day. So I figure... cutting it short couldn't look WORSE than wearing it back in a bun everyday, could it? And if it did... well the one thing that is certain is that hair will grow. I'd just grow it back out. It's about 2 inches above my shoulders and I LOVE it.

This morning I took a shower put some goop in it, towel dried and in an hour it was completely dry. And because it's down and not back in a ponytail it actually looks like it's semi fixed, even when it isn't.

I definately think that I look better with long hair. When the long hair is freshly washed, blow dried and curled. But as my husband can attest that hasn't happened since Connor's birth so what the hell, right? Everyone always says that short hair is easier to take care of. Do you know why they said that? Because it is.

How to prepare a Brussel Sprout

I've always hated brussel sprouts, but Jeff who is a chef swears it's because I've never had them prepared properly. Jorma hates them too. So when I brought home a bag of fresh brussel sprouts from the grocery store and showed him, our conversation went like this.

Jorma: I hate Brussel Sprouts
Me: Me too, I think they are discusting.
Jorma: Ok just as long as we are on the same page. Walks off.

I explain to him that I've always wanted to cook them correctly. The way that Jeff says I should. The way that Jeff swears they aren't nasty. So I did. This is what you have to do to prepare Brussel Sprouts properly.

1. Remove the outer leaves
2. Chop off the woody part of the lower stem
3. Cut an x on the bottom of the steam
4. Boil in heavily salted water for about 6 - 8 minutes.
5. Remove and shock in ice water
6. Cut in half lengthwise
7. Saute in white wine, garlic and butter
8. Serve

And do you know what? They still taste like shit. They are too bitter. They don't absorb the white wine flavor well. I guess any vegatable that you have to do that much crap to in order to prepare it properly, you know is going to be nasty.

I guess if I removed more of the outer leaves and we just ate the hearts. If I maybe boiled them until ALL the flavor was gone, carmelized them in sugar, dipped them in chocolate and then rolled them in crushed almonds... they might be alright.
But for now... they still suck.

You GO girl

ESPNOutdoors - Bear crashes hockey game, mom saves kids

I've always been amazed by these types of stories. She didn't lift a 2 ton car off of her kid, but she definately was willing to take a stand when the odds weren't in her favor.

How to pack a box

This is what it's like to pack boxes for moving with Connor in the room.

- Open box and attempt to tape, removing toddler every few minutes
- Once box is taped turn on side and allow toddler to crawl inside, thus avoiding temper tantrum.
- Remove toddler from box
- Begin to fill box with stuff to be packed
- Walk around the room picking up items that have been removed from box by toddler
- Place items back into box, while telling toddler, "no!" and having toddler reply, "NANANA!" (which is no in toddler language) as he tries to push your hands away from the box
- Fold box
- Tape up box
- Put knee on box while taping to keep toddler from opening box while taping
- Ignore temper tantrum
- Get new box and start process again

Mi Casa, We Casa

When you are pregnant, people have a different way to greeting you. Instead of the usual, "Hi, How are you?" you get, "Hi, how are you? When are you due?" My belly is protruding much quicker than it did with Connor, so when I tell the person asking, "September" their response is, "WOW! You're so BIG!" This is not what the pregnant lady wants to hear. Another common question that follows the due date query is, "Is this your first?". Now that I have Connor in tow most of the time, I don't get this question, but I got it alot when we were in California. It's mostly people that have children that ask this type of question and when you answer, yes, it's our first, they just smile and nod and get that knowing look behind their eyes. I never knew what that look meant, until I found myself asking another preggo, if the baby was to be her first. When she said yes, I just smiled and nodded... That knowing look, actually means, HA! Aren't you in for a suprise. You have no idea how this is going to change your life. Enjoy that Starbucks now sweetie, because after the next year, you'll never be able to even go to the bathroom alone again.

I haven't been blogging much because we've been busy with the new house we are purchasing. There's a ton of red tape that has to be written up, signed and filled out. There are five million people to call and scheduling those five million to call the other five million so that when you are ready to write up, fill out and sign all of the official stuff, everyone is in communicado. It's alot. I didn't bring up the house, because I didn't want to jinx it, but it appears that everything is going smoothly and we are set to close the first week of May. Moving is going to suck as usual, but hopefully, we can find enough strapping, young lads to donate their time that it won't just be my husband and his pregnant wife that is only able to lift 25 lbs or less. If you feel like doing some community service, just let us know... we've got some good karma just waiting for you. Good karma... and maybe some beer.

Procrastination

These are the things that I have been doing instead of blogging.

- Trying to buy a house, (that's actually a we thing, but I've been doing the legwork)
- Stressing over trying to buy a house
- Working
- Sleeping
- Trying to teach Connor that we do not ride the kitty
- Trying to teach the kitty that if you do not want to be ridden, you should not come into the living room

Lizard in a pail

I know! I've been slacking. Mostly because we've been tied up trying to purchase a house that we're probably not getting anyway. No big though, there are plenty of others out there. Plus, it's the shopping that's the fun part.

But now I'm back and ready to tell you about the today's playgroup. The older kids are out of school this week and we had playgroup in one of the member's backyard today. It was a beautiful day to be outside and the kids had a blast. In addition to our troop of 5 toddlers we had two older brothers join us, (since they were out of school), both 4ish in age.

The two older boys caught a lizard and brought it over to the sand box where they put it to watch it run around. They then moved it to a sand shovel and started building a house around it. The architechture consisted of putting dead leaves, sticks and grass on top of the lizard in the shovel, forming his "house". The boys were having a great time at it, but the lizard, not so much. He came to an untimely end, smushed by his own new home. The boys then moved the lizard to a sand pail with grass in the bottom so that they could keep him captive, which worked well for them, being that the dead lizard wasn't much for moving. At one point, a small argument developed that the lizard could not be moved to a smaller bucket because he needed the room to exercise. Although they had been told by one of the Mommies, the boys were in denial that their new pet was no longer of this plane.

Our child, during this commotion was playing in the sand box and grabbed one of the sand pails. He was trying to tug the lizard house-sand pail away from the older boys when one of the Mommy's interviened. Peering in at the lizard she explained to the boys that the lizard was dead and that he had to be kept away from the baby, (Connor) because babies aren't allow to play with lizards. This was most appreciated by me, who sat a short distance away pleading with the interviening Mommy to please make sure that my child did not eat the lizard. The two older boys, both struggled and reached to take the pail out of the Mommy's hands, and ended up, milling around at her feet whining to get the lizard back. The entire time she was explaining that they couldn't have it back, Connor was reaching up and taking swipes at the pail just out of reach. The Mommy won,the two older boys, quickly absorbed in playing with cars on the patio while Connor resumed his investigation of the sandbox. While the lizard hung in his tomb from a fence post for burial at a later time.

We'll see ya. Thanks for coming out.

Dear America,
THANK YOU for finally voting this guy off of Idol. I'd like to talk some smack about ole Kevin Covais and how old all of the sex symbol jokes were getting but I don't want to make his mom cry.

At least now I can watch Idol without cringing... well, unless Bucky starts fixing his own hair again.

Pick your battles, redeem your prize

Although not yet two years old, Connor is already learning that he's got to pick his battles. His battles mainly consist of having something he's not supposed to and trying to keep it from Mom or Dad. He knows some things just aren't worth it. Like ink pens. Because he doesn't yet know that in ten minutes he can destroy a 1500 dollar sofa with an ink pen, they just aren't as much fun. If he manages to grab one that's rolled down within baby reach and gets caught, he takes a good long look at the pen and then gives it up. Well, he doesn't give it up, but he makes minimal effort to keep it and doesn't have a temper tantrum when it's taken. After all... how much fun can he have with a pen?
But let him get a hold of a two hour old cup of coffee with two inches of liquid left at the bottom... now that's something worth fighting for and yesterday he did just that.
One of the things I have to remember about our son, especially as he approaches his teenage years, is that he waits... and he watches. He knows at some point we are going to slip up. We the parents in our constant vigil to put things out of reach and maintain order eventually trust the child and think that something will be ok... just for a minute. But Connor watches, waits and checks.
Yesterday my coffee was old and cold, so when the phone rang the "keep the hot beverage away from baby" alarm didn't go off in my head. I sat the coffee on the desk thinking that it would be fine... just for a minute. Connor, seeing me leave the office went into check to see if there might be anything new to investigate. My coffee was just close enough, that standing on tiptoe he was able to slide it off of the desk.
I was only on the phone for a minute, but he heard me coming and decide he had better take the goods and run.
One thing I've learned about taking things with spillage potential away from our child is that you have to treat him a bit like a horse. You must walk slowly and speak softly because if you startle him or he thinks that you might take away his new prize he's off like a shot. I don't know if you've ever see the gait of a running toddler but it's not so smooth and trotting across our off-white carpet with a cup of half finished coffee can quickly spell disaster. Luckily however, I was blocking all access to the carpeted areas of the house and he only had two choices for escape. Back into the office or into the foyer. He choose the foyer, clutching my cup to his chest dropping his head and running full speed until he hit the door and was trapped. I slowly walked towards him, softly telling him how impressed I was that he was able to hold a cup like a big boy, but he wasn't falling for it, wheeling around and spilling cold coffee down the front of his shirt. Still desperate to maintain his prize, he tried to make a break for the carpeted dining room holding the cup at his side to pick up speed and spilling it all over the foyer. When I reached down to take it, he bobbed and weaved going back the other direction, non chalantly setting it down on the pedestal in the foyer and suddenly becoming interested in a leaf laying on the floor by the front door.
"Huh? Coffee? Me? I don't know what you are talking about." At least he never made it to the carpet.

Yeah, I'm a quitter.

So the other night when I was trying to post an image and Blogger wouldn't let me, this is what I was going to post.










It's my quit statistics from SilkQuit, a program that I downloaded from the web! They have similar programs that you can use to track anything you are quitting, Candy Bars, Starbucks or beers. I'm suprised that the money amount isn't higher though.
It's been almost two weeks and I still want a cigarette so bad that I might actually be willing to pay that $36.41 for one smoke. What's suprising to me is the number of cigarettes NOT smoked. Holy Crap that's a lot!
The life saved is pretty nifty too. 17h and 20m. That's alot of time. That's enough time to drive to the beach for one last skinny dip in the great blue sea. It's enough time to fly to vegas for one last spin of the roulette wheel. It's enough time to re-write the will or talk the eldest child into taking all of the cats. It's enough time to tell everyone that you love them for the 9 billionth time... and that's why I quit in the first place.

Damn you Blogger!

I just had a nifty little post written and it had a picture to go with it! But when I tried to post the picture it gave me an error that said, I couldn't upload at this time, (and that the engineers are working on it). So I tried to save my post as a draft but it got lost and didn't appear. So it looks like I've already wasted some time tonight. Thank you, Blogger.
This is the reason I need to get off my ass and learn movable type.
So I guess I'll just have to tell you about how last night, Connor held his Vanilla-Ginger gourmet cookie up over his head like it should have rays of sunlight shooting from it and said clear as day... "Coo-Key".
and has refused all bribes and cajoling to say it again.

I'll try to re-write my first post and post it in the morning.

The habitual Mommy

Tonight Pink was sitting in my lap looking at me. Before I knew what I was doing, I took my finger and pressed his nose and said, "Nose!".
I was too horrified by what I had done to even be horrified by what I had done. My Mommy brain is such Mommy brain that I can't even remember that the cat, who is ten years old, does not need to know the names of his body parts.
I'm a habitual Mommy.

Ahhh, the Slurpee

One of the things that I miss about California is the Slurpee. You see, in Fremont, they still have 7-11s. The 7-11's still have Slurpees. Here we have the Icee, but they are just carbonated air and flavor. I miss the Slurpee. So if you are reading this from CA. Have a Slurpee for me. I'll make sure that next time I walk past an Icee machine, I flip it off for you.

My AI picks

Damnit! I was wrong on my American Idol picks. Ayla Brown got the boot and so did Giddeon. And now we are down to the top 12.

Ace Young - Paula LOVES your falseto. Quite frankly it scares me. Good thing you are so easy on the eyes. I don't think you will make it to number one, but then again I should never underestimate the 13 year old vote. Did I mention you are fine?

Bucky Covington - You have GOT to get a hair stylist. I can't remember what you sang last, but I do remember that it looks like you desperately need a shave.

Chris Daughtry - You so rock dude. I hope you make it just so we can buy your album.

Elliot Yamin - Love the voice, although, I'm not sure that the rest of America will put you through just based on looks. Our culture is just a little bit shallow, in case you haven't noticed.

Katherine McPhee - Yeah, you're cute. But that "smoldering look" more borders on annoying to me. Keep it real sister.

Kellie Pickler - Someone has got to tell you so I guess it's going to be me. Dumb does not equal cute. Someone has got to stop the all Southern Women are dumb stereotype. It could be you. So can the "blonde" act and get real.

Kevin Covalis - HOW IN THE HELL ARE YOU STILL HERE? Oh that's right. 11 year olds watch the show. You're never going to make it to number one, but at least you'll get laid when you get back to high school.

Lisa Tucker - I think you might be better suited for Broadway. It's just unnatural for a 16 year old to love Barbara Streisand so much. I think you were a gay man in a past life.

Mandisa - Girl, I hope you make it. (See Elliot's comment above)

Melissa McGhee - You look so much like the girl next door. Unfortunately you are much to average to make it all the way, girl.

Paris Bennett - You're cute girl. You might just make it all the way!

Taylor Hicks - STOP with the "seizure on stage" dancing already. It's getting OLD.

Force of habit

There are some things that I do that are just a force of habit. I'm not quite sure from where the habit arose but I do them none the less. One day Jorma said to me, "What do you always drive in the far right lane?" I thought about it. hhmm. Why do I always drive in the right lane? It's not because I drive that slowly. It's just something I do. And to prove to myself that I didn't have to drive in the far right lane, I immediately got into the far left lane. I drove for a few minutes fighting the urge to get back into the slow lane and then took a minute to ask myself why I wanted back over to the right. Myself answered with, "If the car breaks down you won't be stuck in the middle of the interstate." And there I had it. I always drove in the slow lane because up until now, I've always driven cars that were more likely to break down than say, your car for example. So I've always drive in the right lane. It's a product of always having a piece of shit car.

I had forgotten that Jorma and I had this conversation until the other day when I realized that I never put ice in my glass when I get something to drink. Why do I do this I pondered? And then I realized. Aside from a brief stint with one of my roommates, I've never had a fridge with an ice maker until we moved to California. Using ice was a luxury, because it meant that I would have to fill up the ice cube trays when they were empty. Yeah, before you snort and call me lazy, you just ask yourself, how long have you been living with an icemaker, eh? I would fill the trays... it just sometimes wasn't worth the effort for a glass of apple juice that was already cold in the first place.