Oh, The Huge Manatee!

Posted on 12/31/2007 05:18:00 AM In:
Over at Chez Tewkesbury, there's a New Year's Meme that I thought was interesting: Copy the first line of the first post from every month in 2007 and post them all together in a list. Maybe you've seen this a hundred times and think that this is tired and old but let me remind you of this important fact: I am incredibly self-centered. So it's entirely possible that it's been all over the interweb but I've never noticed it before because it didn't concern me, Me, ME.

I thought it would be fun to try and take those twelve sentences, arrange them into a paragraph and see whether I could create a story of sorts.
Kind of a Naked Came the Manatee sort of thing. Two things I learned while reading back over these posts: 1) I need to work on my topic sentences, 2) There was a lot of pregnancy talk in twenty-o-seven -- I apologize to the Internet at large for that.

Here's the best I could do. I call this Naked Came the Whiny Pregnant Lady:

OK InterWeb, I apologize for constantly harping on this orchestra thing (harping, orchestra... heh heh, I make me laugh), but I love the guest conductor for this concert more than Diet Coke! Two days a week, I telecommute so that I can spend more time at home with The Dormouse and she doesn't have to be in day care five days a week. Yesterday on New Years' Day, we got up early and traipsed on downtown to see a President lie in state. As I was flipping through television channels last night in a desperate attempt to put my feet up and possibly see my ankles once again, I happened to catch this show on the Travel Channel and couldn't believe my eyes:
Sand Blasters 2007: The Extreme Sand Sculpting Championship. Things That Really Creep Me Out: Troll dolls. So I'm scolding The Dormouse for something she did that she knew she wasn't supposed to do. "Momma, here write these things down, I need to make a shopping list," she says as she hands me a pen and a piece of the paper we use to write out grocery items we need to remember. Bright and early this morning, I headed off to the hospital for the shot that I had to wait two hours for but took less than two minutes to administer. OK - ignoring the obvious that everyone's talking about... TWELFTH baby? Early on in the pregnancy with our three year old, I felt free to discuss the names we were thinking about with others. What is wrong with me? Forget the sable, Santa, concentrate on the sleep.

My thoughts: 

Stating the Obvious

Posted on 12/30/2007 01:20:00 AM
"You can't go to preschool today, honey."

"Why not, Momma?"

"Preschool is closed today."


"Because there's too much carbon monoxide in the air so the Fire Marshall said they had to close until they figure out how to fix it."

"What's carmony..., what's carbide... what's that?"

"It's a gas. Which means it's in the air but you can't see it. And if there's too much of this certain kind of gas and we breathe it in we could get sick or even die."

"That wouldn't be good."

My thoughts: 

Do They Make Baby-Sized Franklin Planners?

Posted on 12/29/2007 12:14:00 AM
I've said about a thousand times that I wish I had a blog when The Dormouse was born. That way I would have a record of stuff that there isn't a space for in the baby book. Then I could look back on it and compare to see what I could expect now. For example, When did The Dormouse first sleep through the night? I have no idea. I vividly remember the event itself, but time has both sped up to warp 9 and slowed to a turtle's pace since I had children that decided to stick around the place, so all perspective has gone a little wonky in my head. Was it three months? Six months? Nine? When exactly was it that the sleep deprivation got so bad I felt like bugs were crawling around under the skin on my arms? More importantly, when did that stop? I just don't remember. I do remember having to wake The Dormouse to feed her every two hours for what seemed like forever because she was not gaining weight. But now that The Caterpillar is three months old and still waking me every three hours through the night, I'd like to have an idea of when to expect that to end.

Someone should make a baby book that marks those events... the ones that matter to moms. I don't really care when The Dormouse got her first tooth, I want to remember when she stopped biting me and picking at the mole on the back of my arm while she nursed. The outfits that were given to her at the baby shower and who gave them are not nearly as important to me now as when she developed the ability to help put her arm through a sleeve
as I dressed her without bending all her fingers backward. Or when she stopped kicking her legs so violently during diaper changes that I had to put every diaper on three times.

And so, for posterity (or for kicks, I'm not sure which) I thought it would be helpful to post a run down of what The Caterpillar does with her days now that she's achieved her first hundred days. Here's what you have to do to live the Life of Riley (The KoH informs me that no one knows what that phrase, Life of Riley, means, so here's a link for the younger set.) as The Caterpillar does.

6:00 am: breakfast - eat, doze, eat, doze.

7:00-7:20 am:
coo, squeal, gurgle, smile and otherwise flirt with any face that comes within two feet. (This is actually my favorite time of the day - see below.

7:20-7:30 am:
kick arms and legs obsessively.

7:30: scream until someone picks you up.

7:30 am: doze in some one's arms, then once everyone is sure you're asleep and they've put you down in the bassinet, wait ten minutes until they've started some other project like making breakfast, showering, or getting dressed. Wake and shriek as if you've been abandoned. Repeat process nine times.

9:00 am: second breakfast - while nursing, kick arms and legs violently and whip head back and forth. Wonder why milk doesn't come out. Kick more to ensure everyone knows your displeasure.

9:45 am: attempt to fit entire fist in mouth. When it becomes apparent it will not go in there, try other fist.

11:00 am: finally wear self out. Fall asleep on Momma's shoulder. Dampen entire shoulder of her shirt with drool.

Noon: lunch - wake to eat after bobbing head furiously back and forth in sleep.

12:45 pm: scream to be held, however now there's a new twist -- the person holding you may not sit down.

1:30 pm: now the person holding you may now sit down and may not stop moving.

2:00 pm: stop to experience pride that you've gained such mastery over those around you.
You will be a benevolent dictator - but only if they bow to your every whim!

2:05 pm: get angry for no reason, flail head around.

2:07 pm: bang head against Momma's face. Scream in righteous indignation. How dare she hurt you like that!

2:09 pm: when others stop by to see you, smile and flirt, causing them to wonder why your mother complains so much when she has such a good baby.

2:30 pm: get mad again when people leave and stop paying attention to you. When Momma tries to pick you up to comfort you, become hyper tonic, like these goats:

3:00 pm: after lunch snack - then immediately want to go to sleep for the night despite (or perhaps, because of) the fact that parents do not want you to sleep now because it means you will be up at 2:00 am.

3:45 - 6:00 pm: fight repeated attempts by adults to keep you awake. Become angry and incensed when you are not allowed to sleep but still want to smile and flirt when given eye contact. Alternate: shriek, smile, shriek, smile, shriek, smile. Earn the nickname "Labile Affect Girl."

6:00 pm: dinner - except now realize you are too worked up to eat. Repeat shriek, smile, procedure from above while nursing (no easy feat with half a bosom in your mouth). Add in arm flailing for good measure.

6:45 pm:
finally allow someone to put you down to sleep. Sleep peacefully through The KingofHearts' nighttime ritual of wrestling with The Dormouse before bed then wondering why she gets up seven times after turning off the light.

11:00 pm: wake to eat elevensies by snorting and sputtering. Go from there to shrieking in under 30 seconds, be sure to never just simply cry as many other babies do... they are wussies.

11:30 pm: go back to sleep

2:00 am: wake for midnight snack; see sputtering ritual above

2:40 am: declare it "partytime" or at least the newborn equivalent thereof, which consists of kicking mother in the abdomen for an hour.

3:40 am: Maybe go back to sleep on momma's chest, maybe not. Rule of thumb: the sleepier mom is, the less likely this is to happen.

6:00 am: Repeat from step one. Unless, of course, the big humans in the house have gotten used to this schedule and grown to count on it. Then, of course, all bets are off.

My thoughts: 

Assay: n. as-ey, a-sey. a detailed report of findings

Posted on 12/28/2007 02:08:00 AM In:
In other words, a meme. Thought maybe I'd give everyone a break from the rampant photo-posting as of late...

Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the questions below.
(Abducted from this adorable author.)
  1. What is your name: Alice
  2. Four letter word: Argh
  3. Vehicle: Astin Martin
  4. City: Atlanta
  5. Boy's name: Alistair
  6. Girl's name: Andrea Doria (that counts, right? Ships are female.)
  7. Occupation: Apple polisher
  8. Something you wear: Apparel
  9. Celebrity: Adam Ant
  10. Food: Artichoke
  11. Something found in a bathroom: Air (yeah, it's a cop out, I know)
  12. Reason for being late: Apathetic
  13. Cartoon character: Winnie the Pooh (think A. A., Milne)
  14. Something you shout: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
  15. Animal: American Alligator; family name Alligatoridae, genus species or Alligator mississippiensis
  16. Body part: Ass (I've refrained from using this word a total of six times so far. If I don't use it now, my head will explode.)
  17. Word to describe you: Acerbic

My thoughts: 

Christmas Morning: More Photos Than You Care to See

Posted on 12/27/2007 02:13:00 AM
OK - here goes... Christmas in Pictures Part Two.

The stocking were dropped on the floor with no care.

The Caterpillar tries on her present from Santa.

The Dormouse finds a note from Santa thanking her for the pumpkin pie she left him... and settling the week long debate: Is Daddy on the "nice" list or the "naughty" list? (Methinks someone was a bit too sensitive about the possibility raised that Daddy might be naughty.)

This look? We call that jubilation.

Daddy finds his present from Santa hidden in the attic. That fat jerk was too lazy to get it out of its hiding place after Daddy went to sleep.

Fortunately for Daddy, he doesn't have to tax himself further by opening it alone.

The Caterpillar is introduced to her presents.

But isn't quite sure whether to be happy.

"Oh wait, these are mine? Yay!"

"Don't you think this stocking is a little big for my foot?"

The Dormouse reads the book she bought with her hard earned money to her baby sister.

Always with the fashion sense.

Hugging the box that later beat her up.

Daddy's present. "I wrapped it myself!"

"It's a Daddy paperweight! I made it myself!"

Poor man's fireplace.

A favorite song from Momma's childhood, now in book form:
There was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly

And here's the Old Lady. It came with all the animals to stuff down her gullet.
I still can't decide if that's cute or creepy.

Inspector general.

Doo doo doo doo da... Dora!

Modeling cool t-shirt from Grandma.

The Caterpillar gets a caterpillar.

Which caterpillar is the Very Hungriest?

Santa also left some presents outside. Man, that dude is lazy!

The reindeer were so excited to eat the corn, they knocked some off the roof.

Christmas morning breakfast: sticky buns.
One of the best - and easiest - recipes Scott ever gave me.


Christmas isn't just eagerly anticipated by the humans in the house.

Lizzie Borden is in wrapping paper heaven!

The morning left us all wiped.

Some, more than others.
Taking a nap before heading off to search for Chinese Food.

My thoughts: 

Christmas Eve: Photo Retrospective

Posted on 12/26/2007 01:21:00 PM
Words are kind of escaping me right now... or maybe I just don't feel like going to the effort to describe Christmas for us. But for friends and family who requested it, I'll do something. So as Moan says, here's an All You Can Eat Photo Buffet of Christmas Eve in Wonderland.

The Dormouse thought it was simply wonderful that there is someone in the world small enough to ride on her shoulders.

Spiced apple cider cooking on the stove.

I said I don't cook on Christmas Day, but my new resolution is to use our china more, so I made an exception for Christmas Eve dinner. Here's the table The Dormouse helped set.

Turkey breast and smashed potatoes.

And pumpkin pie made from the last of the crooked neck pumpkin.

Throwing Reindeer Corn onto the roof for Santa's reindeer to nosh on while he delivers presents inside. Note the corn piece suspended in air caught by the camera... totally not purposeful.

Reindeer corn.

We made a gingerbread house. From a kit.
Which I highly recommend (the kit, that is).

Except the occupants of the house seem to have somewhat of a pigeon problem.

The view off our back deck on Christmas Even night while we were taking a nighttime dip in the hot tub after the girls went to bed. Ahhh.

Lit Christmas tree. Note cat in left foreground attempting to eat tree.

This is the ornament from my first Christmas. It almost looks not forty years old in this picture. Who knew this little guy would come around again in 2007 as a fad? I feel like such a trend setter.

Another perspective on the Christmas tree lights.

Hanging candy canes on the Christmas tree... the easy way.

Daddy's present from The Caterpillar. She picked it out herself -- it wasn't one of those things that mommy wanted too, I swear!

View of the ceiling from under the Christmas tree.
If I could figure out how to paint this up there, I would keep this view of the ceiling all year long.

Stay tuned tomorrow for a photo report of Christmas day.

My thoughts: 

Me in 3 Seconds

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Washington, D.C. Metro, United States
Married, 40ish mom of two (or three, or four, depending on how you keep score) who stepped through the lookinglass and now finds herself living in curiouser and curiouser lands of Marriage, Motherhood, and the Washington, D.C. Metro Area.

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