My son with the mad skills

Remember I wrote about how my baby has this weird dexterity skill, the ability to use utensils without us teaching him? Yeah, I caught it on video at Bread Company this morning.

He doesn't even need a fork. Knives will work fine.



No children were harmed in the making of this video. One mother was smeared with cream cheese.

Oh, and apparently you need Flash to see this? Cause I can't see it!

Wistful thinking

Moms will know what these are. These are my old breastmilk bottles, that I then used to mix formula with warm water after I weaned the boys. These bottles taught me how to eyeball an ounce, two ounces, four ounces. I can do it in my sleep now, no matter how big the container is. I know what four ounces feels like.

These bottles have been all over Missouri and Illinois with me. I sat in a freezing cold car in Springfield, Missouri, pumping milk into the newer ones after having Griffin. Man, I hated that job.

With Cooper, I had a hand pump. And I'd drive down the highway pumping milk from one boob at a time. Trying not to spill it all over, praying the other boob wouldn't suddenly start leaking. And trying to keep the semi drivers from getting some cheap thrill at watching a lactating mom's boob? Sickos.

And now, my baby Griffie is off formula. It took a little longer than I wanted, and I waited to use up the last of the gigantic carton of Enfamil I had leftover from BMS, which happened last week sometime. I was putting away dishes this morning and realized I don't need these things anymore, and I got a little teary.

So goodbye, plastic breastmilk bottles. So long, friends. You were good to us, and I appreciate it. Your lids always fit tight. You never leaked unless I didn't put the cap on in the middle of the night and tried to hold you sideways, or Griffin's ridiculously strong left hook took you out. You did your job, and now you'll be recycled into playground mulch or whatever it is they actually recycle plastic into.

Griffin is growing up, and I'm sad about that. Not sad about things like pottytraining and weaning from nursing. No, no, those are the great things about babies growing up! It's just sad to know that pretty soon I won't be able to hold him in my arms like I can now, and he'll want to be more and more independent, until the day comes when it'll be totally uncool to be in the same zip code as me.

I found this shirt at Gymboree, and it perfectly describes Griffin. He's freakishly strong! **sigh** Such sweet boys.

Ok, melancholy wistful daydreaming over. Time to fold laundry.

Time to make the donuts.

Full-on plagiarized post

Yeah, I'm stealing this post from my brother. Because it's true. And because you youngn's need to read it! I'm editing for grammar so Angela can stand to read it, and for punctuation so I can stand to read it.

When I was a kid, my dad used to bore me to tears with his diatribes about how hard things were when he was growing up; what with walking twenty-five miles to school every morning…uphill...both ways! (But seriously, my dad really did walk to school every day. To a one-room schoolhouse in the middle of a cornfield. Until the ripe old age of nine when farmers let their kids drive in Nebraska. But I digress...)

I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way I was going to lay a trip like that on my kids about how hard I had it and how easy they’ve got it.

But now that I’m over the ripe old age of thirty-something, I can’t help but look around and notice the youth of today. They’ve got it so easy! I mean, compared to my childhood, they live in a Utopia.

They don’t know how good they’ve got it.

When I was a kid we didn’t have The Internet. If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the library and look it up ourselves… in the card catalog. Which was actual cards with numbers and stuff on them, and you had to learn the Dewey Decimal System to use the library.

There was no email. We had to actually write somebody a letter, with a pen! And put it in an envelope, and actually lick a stamp. Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the mailbox, stick up the red flag, and it would take like a week to get there.

There were no MP3’s or Napsters or Playlists. If you wanted to steal music, you had to walk to the record store and shoplift it yourself. Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio and the DJ would usually talk over the beginning and mess it all up. And then you had to convince your parents you really needed a boombox with dual tape recorders so you could record all this crap for your friends on a mix tape. Like Flock of Seagulls.

We didn’t have fancy phone stuff like call waiting. If you were on the phone and somebody else called, they got a busy signal. That's it. And we didn’t have fancy caller ID either. When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was. It could be your school, your mom, your boss, your bookie, a collections agent. You had to pick it up and take your chances, missy.

We didn’t have any fancy Wii video games with high-resolution 3-D graphics. We had the Atari 2600 and a Commodore 64 computer. With games like Space Invaders and Asteroids. Your guy was a square box. You actually had to use your imagination. And there were no multiple levels or screens, it was just one screen f-o-r-e-v-e-r! And you could never win. The game just kept getting harder and harder and faster and faster until you died. Just like LIFE. And we all had to learn how to write DOS.

You had to use a little book called the TV Guide to find out what was on TV. You were screwed when it came to channel surfing. You had to get off your chair and walk over to the TV to physically change the channel...by turning a dial. And there was no Cartoon Network either. You could only get cartoons on Saturday morning. Do you hear what I’m saying!?! We had to wait ALL WEEK for cartoons. And then we only got Tom and Jerry and the Road Runner.

We didn’t have microwaves. If we wanted to heat something up, we had to use the stove. Try making a single hotdog on the stove. If you wanted to make popcorn, you had to heat up oil in a spinning popcorn pan and turn the dial for ten minutes and then pray to God you didn't burn it or yourself. And then pour real melted butter on it. With real salt.

Kids today have got it too easy. They're spoiled. They wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in 1980.

My kids love bananas

And now my shoes do, too! I tried to put my boots on to leave for work, and this is what I found....banana. From last night. At least, I think it was from last night? I wore these boots yesterday (yes, I know, that's a giant podiatric faux pas and bad for my feet, whatever) and this morning I stuck my hand in there and found this. The little yellow blur is banana.



I love my life. I really do. There are bad days and the future is a little blurry right now, but I love this. Would someone remind me of this when I'm crabbing about something stupid like Facebook? Thanks.

I said "awwww" when Cooper gave his bro a hug, and he said "go get the camera!" Yes, sir.

Facebook is a virus

Or wait, no, Facebook is a curse. No, no, it's a blessing. I can't really decide what Facebook is, but it's probably not good. OK, maybe it's just neutral. Nah, it's good, it's good.

There's nothing like Facebook to suddenly transport you twenty years back in time. I can look at pictures on there, see names, faces, read comments, and suddenly I'm in high school again. I'm not sure that's such a good thing? But it is great to be able to say hi to all the people I've known over the years.

I have to admit, I have a friend on Facebook, and I can't for the life of me remember who this person is? In fact, I have a few of those. I'll just leave you guessing as to who they are. I'm going to have to pull out the old high school yearbook to figure it out. And after that I'll probably need to have a margarita or something.

**On second thought, I love Facebook**

Longies!

Oh my god, I could just die from the cuteness of these new longies that Christia knit for Griffin! They came in the mail today, so I made him change his pants when we got home from school. So yeah, his outfit doesn't match, but his bum is cute!

Thank you so much, Christia! You really ought to add these to your Etsy store, although they may be too labor intensive. They certainly look it! If anyone is in the market for a super cute hat, check out Lola Cate Creates or Cong-Fu. It doesn't hurt that the hand-knitter behind the store is a lovely person, too.

Griffin's ear tubes are draining, so he doesn't feel too hot right now. Poor booger.

The good side of snow days

Ohhh, girls! You can laugh out loud. It's OK.

Another snow day?

Good Lord, we have another snow day. I wasn't happy about yesterday's snow day, so you can imagine how I feel about another one on top of it.

It's not that I don't dearly love a lazy day, I do! But you'll recall, I just spent an entire weekend sleeping, which means I got nothing done for work or around the house. So I actually need the anklebiters to be in school this week so I can catch up for last weekend before this weekend hits! Whew.

At least today we actually have snow. That's nice, to have snow on a snow day. Yesterday we just had Fear of Snow. That's common in this area. When I moved here, the city of Saint Louis owned eight snow plows. I'm not kidding. Now maybe they own nine? I don't know, I moved to the county where there are at least sixteen.

I had this funny conversation with my husband this morning. Setup: we have a Tahoe that we bought last year. It's in the garage behind a bunch of junk my husband piled around it, so it's not really driveable right now.

H: Can you clear out the Tahoe so I can drive it today?
N: Why?
H: Uh, it's snowy. It has high clearance and four wheel drive.
N: It's clean, I don't want it getting dirty. I didn't pay $40k for a car just to get it dirty.
H: But you did pay $40k for a car so you can wash it and store it? But not drive it?

So I'm not driving the Tahoe today.

I spent much of yesterday sorting through clothes that no longer fit my monkeys, and I drug out the Girl Stash. This is the rubbermaid container where I used to put baby girl clothes that I'd find on great clearance, or that I'd just fall in love with. Griffie helped me clear it out.



And guess what? It didn't bother me one bit to sort them into piles and box them up for other baby girls around the country. There was a time, not too many months ago, when the thought of finally parting with the last few outfits was too hard.

But I've grown! And I've aged. And I'd like to think I'm too freaking tired to imagine another baby in my life at all, let alone a baby of a different gender that I'd have to learn new things about parenting.

So this is a final picture. This was my most favorite, most beloved baby girl outfit I ever bought (it's from Janie and Jack). And it's totally impractical. The sweater is a little wooly, for one, and it's a 3-6 month size. What three month old baby can wear separates? Not mine, that's for sure. Griffin is just now wearing separates and he's fourteen months old.


Some girlfriends of mine will be getting nice boxes with wooly impractical beautiful baby girl outfits in the mail soon. When they're doing the laundry in a few months they'll be cursing me for the "no tumble dry" outfits, but that's OK.

These last pictures are action shots from Griffin's first dinner last night. He eats two dinners. This child has the best fine motor skills I've seen on any of my babies (n=2). He already prefers to eat with utensils over his fingers. In fact, he'll fight you for a fork if he sees one in the vicinity. Check out the action sequence...

Spear food with fork....



Jam it in mouth...

I can smell poop

We have a snow day today. Which is weird because we really don't have that much snow on the ground, maybe two inches? But yeah, in St. Louis everyone freaks out at the sight of snow, starts driving erratically, and they cancel all schools. Daycares and preschools go along with regular schools, so we're home.

And I can smell poop right now. Probably coming from Griffin's pants. I hope to God it's coming from Griffin's pants, otherwise I have bigger problems.

[some time has elapsed] Yeah, it was definitely coming from Griffin's pants. He's suddenly started eating like a monster! And it all comes out eventually. He poops like three or four times a day. I used to get by with never seeing a poopy diapy all week because he'd go while he was at daycare.

Now, however, he goes all the time. He even woke up in the middle of the night with a poop diaper last week!

We went to Bread Company this morning, and the child ate my entire asiago bagel, so I had to go order another one. He can clear a plate like you would not believe. He's not getting taller, but he is definitely getting w i d e r.

Putting him in his jammies now is like shoving a sausage into it's wrapper. At least, I think so. I have never tried to put sausage into a wrapper, but I'm guessing.

He weighs 24.5 pounds today. I swear a month ago he weighed 22 pounds? I wish I was a better record keeper, I'd write down all of his doctor appointments and then I'd never forget these details. Anyway, I think he's gained ten percent of his body weight since Christmas.

G has also suddenly become OPINIONATED. I remember being newly pregnant with Griffin, when Cooper hit this stage. He can talk a little (or at least he thinks he can), and he has opinions about things. Mostly negative opinions. He likes to scream loudly and throw his body around for dramatic effect. I remember thinking to myself "oh my God, what have I done? How am I ever going to handle two kids at the same time?" That feeling lasted until sometime last week.

It doesn't help matters that Griffin really just wants to do whatever his brother does, and his brother likes to cry. A lot. I asked Cooper recently, after he'd gotten over one of his spells, why he cries like that so much? And you know what he said?

"I like to cry."

Oh my. How do you reason with that?

And do you see the bruise in the middle of Griffin's forehead? This is a regular thing, it really never goes away. Because Griffin is the child who helmets were designed for. Seriously, someone invented this thing for toddlers and I'm thinking of getting it.

It's like his head is a magnet for the floor. You can set him down to walk around, and he will fall straight back and conk his head. He doesn't even cry that much anymore! I worry about the dain bramage. I guess we'll just have to see how his IQ scores are later on.

Another trip down Ye Olde Memory Lane

Ahh, college. Remember those days? Yeah, me neither. But we were young, and energetic, and we could sleep until eleven.

Right before Christmas I had to deactivate my Facebook account because Facebook (or FB, as the usies call it) was suddenly sending me all sorts of weird emails from other "friends" and I think I caught the FB virus that was going around. So I deactivated and waited awhile, and then today I activated my account again.

And GUESS WHAT?? My friend Jane, who I'd been thinking about and looking for for a few months, is now on Facebook! Jane was my college roommate and friend, and I'd lost touch with her.

So in honor of Jane, I pulled out some old pictures I had of that time, and scanned them on my crappy scanner. Cause there's nothing more flattering than pictures of you when you had Big Hair and weird clothes that came up way too high on the waist, and you can't Photoshop the pictures because they aren't digital.

So here's a picture of Tami, me, Fumo, Kelli, and Dirks. I don't know what happened to Dirks. I mean, in life. I have no idea where she is now, except maybe she's on t.v. somewhere? I thought she wanted to be a television newscaster.


And here's another great shot. Jennifer, Kelli, me, JANE!, and Dirks. Dangit, Dirks is in literally every picture I have from college!

This picture makes me laugh every time I see it. Fumo and Jane, in our dorm at ISU. Fumo looks like she wants to punch Jane, probably because Jane just punched her? Or maybe she did something gross? I can't remember! But it makes me laugh.

My twenty-first birthday, with Tami and Fumo. Hey, at least our hair was getting shorter by then. And Dirks wasn't in the picture. In fact, by this time I don't think I even knew where she was? Did she move? I have no memory.

So it was a short trip down Ye Olde Memory Lane, but it's really good to know where Jane is again. She's one of those people I always like to know where they are, even if I don't talk to her as often as I'd like.

She has three beautiful girls now. I can't believe how big they are! Which means I can't believe how old I am! Yikes. These pictures were from at least fifteen years ago. Ye gawds! Time, she's an evil woman.

I love you, Jane! Good to see you again.

See? Some of these people are CRAZY!

I see I've got Christia hooked on the Bento craze. Check out the site she found with a Wall-E Bento lunchbox! And then there's this one, that's actually super cute and I would eat it.

The Wall-E one may be a little freaky to eat. I don't know.

Bento lunchboxes, anyone?

Has anyone else ever heard of Bento boxes? They're these cute little Japanese stacking boxes (I think) that you pack full of food.

Anyway, in my surfing this afternoon, I came across a whole new world of people who make Bento boxing a hobby! This includes an awesome website called Cooking for Monkeys. That woman is seriously talented. She made cheese look like a dinosaur. I bet I could get Cooper to eat stuff if I cut it in the shape of a dino. At this point Griffin will eat anything, but I'm sure there will come a day when a dino shape will help him, too.

Then I found this great website which is like the Bento Dollar Store or something like it, where you can order Bento boxes and assorted accessories for super cheap. Which is helpful, because I don't live in an area with a lot of Japanese food supply stores.

I might give this a go, see how it goes.

And where am I going to come up with all of the free time involved in packing a lunchbox (or dinnerbox) with foods shaped like animals, you ask? Cheese and grapes on a stick together, you ask?

Well, I have been ceremoniously invited, along with the rest of the business unit I belong to, to a Very Important Conference Call tomorrow around the lunch hour. I guess I better double check the time, although at this point it seems unimportant. The important thing is that there is a very good chance this call will include VERY BAD NEWS.

In my industry, it is not a good sign to get an email after the close of business on Friday inviting you to a MANDATORY conference call on Monday. Mondays and Fridays are typically reserved for layoffs, which are also common. Ah well, such is life. I'm not too worried because the call could just as easily be good news, or it could be about something completely irrelevant to job security, like budgets and such.

We shall see. In the meantime, I will cloud my brain with plans of packing Bento box lunches for my picky eater. He likes sushi. Maybe this will be like sushi without the raw fish and rice, and rolls and stuff?

I found my bliss

You know what I'm doing right now? I am actually laying on my couch, wrapped in my favorite red blankie, propped up against my new feather pillows, typing with my laptop on my lap. Why is this so great? I'm alone. All of the men in the house are sleeping; even the dog is curled up on my husband's coat, snoring.

I am in heaven.

I'll be drifting off myself pretty soon, but in the meantime I'm watching my DVR. I taped "The Property Shop," a new show on HGTV starring this fabulous big-haired real estate lady named Tatiana from Montreal. She's got big hair and a big personality and she's really neat to watch. I remember seeing her on Buy Me a few years ago and being captivated by her freaky hair!

Some other good news...I was just "hired" (if you can count a job that doesn't pay as being hired) to write for the Blissfully Domestic Family Channel! So yay!!! I hope to have something fit for publication soon. When I found that site, I remember going to bed that night thinking "what exactly is bliss?"

So now I know. This is it. Quiet solitude on a snowy Sunday afternoon. An adult television program, watched without interruption, on the brink of a nice nap. That is bliss.

Zzzzzzzzz......

The day we slept our lives away

My two anklebiters and I made the unconscious decision to sleep the day away today. We got up at a reasonable hour. 5:55 a.m. For a Saturday that's actually an unreasonable hour, but around here it's pretty normal.

As we sat on the couch watching Arthur, I could not peel my eyes open. They just didn't want to open. Finally by 7:15 we were out of the house on our way to our morning trip to Bread Company.

We came home, Griffin went down for a nap, Cooper and I laid on the couch. My eyes inadvertently closed. I tried to peel them open by hand. It didn't work.

Griffin woke up, and the three of us set off to buy dog food and eat lunch at Culver's. On the way to PetSmart, Cooper fell asleep in the car. He roused long enough to look at the fishies, birdies, and kitties.

We ate a great unhealthy lunch at Culver's, home of the butterburger, and he fell asleep on the way home. So much for going by Home Depot to pick out lights!

He went down for a nap when we got home, then Griffin went down again, then I laid down with Cooper. When we finally all woke up again, it was 3:00.

3:00 and we've accomplished nothing! So I guess maybe this is going to be one of those wasty days where we don't do anything. OR, I could fold the seven baskets of clean laundry that are staring at me? Naahhh!!

I have no patience

I booked airline tickets for me and my kids to fly to Florida this spring and spend a week in the sun with my parents.

So now I want to leave now. I have no patience. I don't want to wait another few months. I want the trip to be next week.

I have done myself a great disservice this week. I am in a pharmaceutical downward spiral. Nothing serious, nothing major, no biggee really.

I got a headcold. This happened at the same time that Griffin started sleeping through the night (THANK THE LORD, THERE IS A GOD IN HEAVEN, GRIFFIN SLEEPS AGAIN!!) so I am definitely getting enough sleep. But I couldn't breathe the other day, so I squirted a little Afrin up my nose to help that out, which it did. Afrin is a wonder drug, you just can't use it too often or you get addicted and then your nose will get stuffy waiting for its Afrin-crack. My baby's ear, nose and throat doctor (eww, what a gross specialty) suggested it for him (my baby) and it worked wonders.

So my nose was stuffy, and I had a ton of stuff to do for work (big fancy speaker doctor visiting from UCLA, etc. etc.). I took a half of a Provigil pill Wednesday morning. This usually makes me feel great! Zippy! Young! Energetic! This time...nothin. I got nothin. I was still tired, sluggish, slogging through the day. Someone I work with even commented on the dark circles under my eyes.

I got home late that night and had a fairly fitful night's sleep, so Thursday morning I took three-quarters of a Provigil pill. Once again, not much effect.

By Thursday night, I really really needed to sleep. So I took a Tylenol PM (which was also supposed to help the hives I had on my neck as the PM part of that is just subtherapeutic Benadryl). I slept great! Like my baby, who also slept great. But I woke up and the Tylenol PM wasn't done working with me. So I had to take another half a Provigil pill this morning so I could get up off the couch and lead the conference call I just got off of.

Now I'm in a vicious cycle of uppers and downers. Granted, they're not serious or strong and I've not even taken the full therapeutic dose of either drug, but it's irritating nonetheless.

So there, I've prattled on for this many paragraphs about my drug-induced fog. This weekend I'm going to detox off all medications and hopefully by Monday I'll be back to normal.

My psychic reading

OK, I don't want to offend anyone, so if you're offended by psychics, you can stop reading now.

A couple of years ago I heard an NPR interview with Victoria Laurie, a psychic who also writes detective novels (she calls them psychic eye mysteries) that feature a psychic. Go figure. I thought it would be fun to have a psychic reading, so I booked my first one. Since then, I've had two more. My latest was on Monday.

I know, I know, it's stupid. It's not real, it's entertainment. But I have to tell you...it's eery how accurate she is about what's to come in my life! Sometimes I don't even realize it until after the fact that she's told me such-and-such is going to happen, you know?

So I booked my 2009 reading for Monday, and she called me at 10:00. I won't go into all the details, mostly because I can't remember them all, but here are some highlights that have already freaked me out...

She ran through a list of dead relatives who wanted to say hi, who they were related to and how they died. Most of these people wanted to give a shoutout to my parents for some reason.

After talking for about ten minutes, she kind of sighed and said "ok, I have to ask...do you know someone named Ruth?"

I said "yeah, my husband's grandma Ruth died two months ago."

She said "Ohhhh, ok. Because she's yelling at me, say Ruth! Say Ruth!" How weird is that? I haven't told my husband yet. I don't think he'd believe me.

Then when we were talking about my own family, she said my mom's mom died of cancer (true) and she wanted to tell my mom not to worry about her knees. She said my mom's knees are bad, and she's going to need surgery, but not to worry...just to go ahead and get them both fixed at the same time, and that everything is going to be ok. I just kind of nodded, thinking "boooo-ring! Let's get to something good!"

My mom called me on my way to Springfield this morning. She wanted to know if taking glucosamine/chondroitin with hyaluronic acid could help her knees? Cause her knees have suddenly gotten much worse and she's having trouble getting up after sitting. She's in a lot of pain. Wow, Grandma, good call on the knee problem.

And apparently my Grandpa is really intent on my mom getting a dog? She said he really wants her to have a dog, that he's projecting a lot of dog energy on my mom.

Well, later in our conversation about her knees, mom and I talked about my upcoming trip to Florida to stay with them.

I said "Southwest won't let dogs on the plane, so I guess Binnie isn't going to get to come with us."

Mom said, "Oh, that's too bad. I was hoping she could come and then stay with us until we drive back in May." I wonder if that's why all the dog talk from my Grandpa?

So those are a few highlights. She talked about my job a little, my husband's job a little, some other odds and ends. It was entertaining, but I won't really know until next year how accurate any of it was. Still, a good time was had by me!

And the winners are.....

Can you hear the drumroll? Are you going to be totally shocked? 45 loyal daily readers and only two submissions for a new banner design! So I am awarding BOTH Marci and Christia with a new banner from Lindsay. I'll get you two the details later today when I'm back in St. Louis. I am currently writing this from my table at the Feed Store in Springfield.

I love the Feed Store. It's the one and only thing I've ever liked or missed about living in Springfield.

Otherwise, I have no love for this crapbag town.

When I get home, I'll also be posting my creepy deaky story about my psychic reading this week. Oooooo, spooky spooky!

Banner Design CONTEST GIVEAWAY!! FREE STUFF!! ENTER!! FREE!! FREE!!

Did that catch your attention? I want to thank all of you girls (and one guy, my brother) for loyally reading this filth each and every day.

I recently had Lindsay design my new blog theme, or whatever it is you call it. She did the banner at the top, and she designed a couple buttons (you can see them on the sidebar). If you're technosavvy, which I am not, you can actually install the code for the buttons as a widget (html) in your own sidebar! How cool is that?!

Anyway, she offered me a free banner design of my choosing after ordering all of this stuff. I've kind of sat on the offer for a few weeks, trying to decide if I want another blog? I mean, what could I possibly come up with to talk about that I don't already talk about here?

So I've decided to give away the free banner design to one of my loyal readers. If you check out her website, she can install her banners on any blog host site, and she also designs banners for Etsy (for people like Christia and her darling shop).

All you have to do to enter is respond with a comment here. I'll do some random number pulling and draw the winner on Thursday morning. Why Thursday morning? Because I have a dinner program Wednesday night, and this leaves enough time for everyone to enter. Some of you actually have lives, unlike myself.

So is that clear? Comment with your first name, saying something like "This is a great contest, Heather! I'd love to win!" and I'll enter you. And when all three entries are cast, I'll shake the numbers in a hat and draw the winner, and you too can have a coolio blog design. Or Etsy banner. Whatever.

Public Service Announcement

I am feeling slightly deja vu-ish on this one, so if I've already posted this PSA, please forgive me.

Ladies....this is NOT RIGHT. When you buy a coat or a skirt, the vent is typically tacked down with big cross stitches. Please, please, take out your scissors and cut those stitches! Set the vents free! They are not supposed to be closed shut for the life of your coat or skirt.

This poor girl didn't know I took her picture standing in line at Bread Company. The worst part is that because she never set her vents free, the pleat in the back of her coat kind of bubbled up and makes her butt look padded? Weird.

Anyway, go check your closets. If you've forgotten to cut any of your coats or skirts free, do it now. If you love something, set it free.

Oh gosh

I just read a very moving article, I wanted to share it with you guys. I don't know if you've seen the button I have on my sidebar, the Nie Nie Dialogues? It's Stephanie Nielson's blog, a lovely mom from Arizona who was badly burned in a plane crash in August.

I just read an article in an Arizona paper, about Stephanie's sisters and the bond they have. And the care they've given to Stephanie's kids. And to Stephanie. It's very moving. I don't have sisters, I only have brothers. It makes me want sisters.

It also makes me realize the depth of love that two people can have for each other. Reading Christian and Stephanie's story is very emotional for me. Especially tonight, when I'm struggling with my own burdens and wondering how bad it is that my husband sneaks into his closet to smoke?

So I will simply think about Stephanie, and pray for less pain during her recovery. For her, and for her kids.

The inmates are running the asylum

This post could also be called "I need to go back to work, and the kids need to go back to school/daycare." This MLK day off is just a little too close to the three weeks we had off at Christmas for my sanity level, know what I mean? I haven't showered in two days, there is two weeks' worth of laundry piled up that needs to be folded and put away, toys are strewn everywhere, and Cooper ate ice cream for dinner last night.

So it's cold out, and we're cooped up inside, barricaded in the family room because my husband is working on installing a light at the bottom of my Now Favorite Stairwell. What to do with all this time? Surf the net, that's what! To heck with folding laundry!

I found a few cool new websites I've never seen before. In my quest to improve my blogging skills, I came across Delightful Blogs, a directory of blogs that are all delightful. They've been reviewed for membership, so it's pretty accurate that every blog listed there ranks pretty high on the Delight-o-Meter.

Then I stumbled across plain old Delight. It's a website that features one item on sale each day, with a focus for things that are also delightful. It's somehow related to Delightful Blogs. Maybe they're cousins or something? I did find a beautiful necklace on Delight that I would order...if I didn't already own one that I paid substantially more for somewhere else! Not the exact same one, but close enough to make me sick that I paid so much more for mine. Their jewelry seems pretty cool, so I'm going to bookmark it and browse in all of my free time.

I missed my first knitting lesson Friday night because I cut my index finger opening a box. So I got my needles, yarn, and pattern book out and lo and behold I do remember how to knit, I do! I was able to cast on and do my first row. Now I have to try and remember how to purl. I knit Continental (I hold the thread in my left hand and do all turning with the right needle, no throw-overs here) but my picture book shows it English, so I have to try to find a good tutorial for stockinette stitches in Continental. Sounds thrilling, huh?!

When I'm finally up to speed with my knitting, I want to make these Big Snugs for me and my snuglets. The toddler ones are especially adorable. They also have a Snuglet version that is equally cute and possibly wouldn't take as long to make?

Yeah, so that's the highlight of this long weekend. New stairwell, new knitting projects. No showers. Ice cream for dinner. Oh, and a trip to Costco. Time to go back to work.

Someone Else's Story, Volume 1

Remember I posted a teaser earlier this week, whereby I will finally be writing down all of the interesting stories strangers tell me about their lives? These aren't people I know very well, although this first edition actually is someone I've come to know. These are stories I hear in passing.

I think there are a lot of people out there that just need someone to listen to them, someone to talk to. So if I find myself sitting next to someone for ten minutes, chances are, I've heard their story. Or at least part of their story. Now I'm going to share them with you, because that's what I do. I share. And because I have nothing else to write about tonight.

*****

P's Story

I've known P for a while, maybe even as long as five or six years? She does my nails at the salon I go to. I've always known she was Chinese, and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew she came to the States from Vietnam. It wasn't until recently that I asked how she came to live here, and she told me her incredible story of the journey she and her family took. As she sat and told me her story, my mouth gaped open.

P is a little older than me; I think she's 38. She comes from a big family of eight kids, and she falls near the top. Her parents are Chinese, but shortly after she was born the family moved to Vietnam to escape Chinese oppression.

Then the Vietnam War started, and things got really bad. Her parents and extended family had to make a decision, and they chose to try to come to the United States by way of a boat. Her dad bought the boat, and together with his immediate family of nine (wife and eight kids), he loaded up extended family and some strangers, basically anyone who wanted to pay for passage to the U.S.

They set off for freedom from poverty and war. I guess things were OK for a while, or at least as OK as they can be on a boat with a hundred people in the middle of the ocean.

Shortly into the trip, some people started to get sick. Her uncle, who was mentally retarded and had other health issues, died on board. P doesn't really remember why he died, she was just a kid, maybe nine years old? They had no doctor on board, no medicines other than over the counter things like aspirin. They were weeks, possibly months from shore. So they did what they had to do. They laid his body on the water and let him go. P says she remembers watching his body bob away on the waves, until she couldn't see it anymore.

Shortly after this, the boat started to leak and take on water. They sent out distress signals, flares, whatever it is they could do to get help.

The Indonesian Coast Guard (at least that's what my faulty memory remembers) came to the boat just as it was sinking and rescued the passengers, but because they were refugees of Vietnam and they were in international waters, they weren't allowed to go to Indonesia. Instead, they were taken to an island specifically designated for refugees. She said there were thousands of people there waiting for assylum from various different countries, living in filth, camping.

They lived on this refugee island with no running water, with tents as coverage from the elements, for a year. Finally, their application for visas to the United States came through. They were only able to obtain visas for their immediate family, P's parents and their children. So they left behind the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, who would eventually make it to freedom on their own.

From Indonesia they were flown to Atlanta, and that's where the family initially began their transformation into Americans. Hotlanta! Can you imagine? They lived in a one bedroom apartment, both parents taking whatever jobs they could find. P and her siblings learned to speak English by watching television. Some of her sisters still live there, although later on most of the family moved here.

P met and married a Vietnamese man whose family still lives there. She's an amazing woman. She speaks four languages - Chinese, Vietnamese, French and English. She is one of the hardest working people I know. She's pretty, smart, and talented and you'd never guess it by looking at her that she came to this country by way of a leaky boat out of Vietnam.

And I think I have struggles!?

Steps Part 2

I know, you're probably thinking "how many updates about steps can this woman possibly post?" Well, a lot!

We now have a step at the bottom of my new favorite stairwell, and the hardwood floors have been replaced where they were missing! All that's left is wall repair and paint.

This is quite possibly the quickest, most successful improvement we've ever made to this house!

Sue is a genius

Seriously, my friend Sue must be some sort of design genius or something. She came over the other day to look at the house with a keen eye and tell me honestly what needs to be done to sell it.

She suggested we take down the attic doorwell to the upstairs because it was making the second story look like an attic instead of the second story. I had always wanted to do that but my husband pushed back and how many projects could we really take on at once, you know?!

But once an independent party suggested it, Neil got the sparkle in his eye. He could demo something. He loves to demolish things.

So yesterday afternoon, the Sawzall came out from hiding, and the walls came down!

And you know what? I LOVE IT. Honestly, I stand in the hallway now and just stare at the openness that is my stairwell. It's airy. It's a completely different stairwell. It almost makes me like this house again. **sigh**

I have a feeling by the time we make all of the improvements to sell this house I may love it again. That's OK, I'm prepared for that.

I wish I had some before pictures, but you can imagine - a short dark door that led to the upstairs. It was usually closed because Griffin likes to climb stairs. Now we'll have a series of complicated gates, but hey! They're better than that doorway!

Sue is one of those people who can walk into a home that hasn't been updated in thirty nine years, and she can instantly tell you what walls need to come down, how to reconfigure the living space, and how cool it will look afterwards. I don't have her vision, but I like to follow her direction!

**On a more serious note, there is a baby girl named Harper who is clinging for her new life in a hospital in Arkansas. Please send up prayers that she makes it. Harper was the name I would have chosen for a girl if I'd had one.**

Tick tick tick tick

That's the clock, ticking already, on the stuff I have to get done on this house so I can sell it.

My friend Sue, my real estate agent, came over the other day. She had remarkably good news! There's very little inventory for buyers in my community, so she's confident our house will sell quickly and the price she gave us was good, too! So that's all good news.

The bad news? Well, it wasn't surprising, but there are some things we have to get done to put it on the market. Most of them involve removing any trace of humans living in this house.

I asked her, "How offensive are toys?"

She said, "Very offensive." She has a daughter, she means no disrespect. It's just that buyers don't want to see toys every where they turn when they're looking at your house. Apparently, this even includes buyers with children!

So you can see, this poses a dilemma. Do I simply take everything we own to my parents' house while I'm selling this house? Do I find ways to organize it that somehow don't include jamming the closets full? She said I have to clean out my closets, too! They have to look spacious. That'll be a feat, considering they were designed in 1935 when people didn't have clothes to store. Or shoes.

So I'm going to put together a master list, and I'm going to house it on my sidebar where I can cross things off as I finish them. Operation Home Improvement. Except, in this case, the end goal is to actually unload the house.

I bought this old bird when I was single. I had written a letter to the little old lady living here, expressing an interest in her house, and six months later her daughters called me. This was back when I rehabbed houses in my spare time. I lived in them at the same time, something I only recommend for the strong of constitution. I envisioned this home as the perfect house for a family. After all, the lady I bought the house from had raised six kids here!

Well, life intervenes sometimes, and sometimes love affairs end. My love affair with this house is over. So someone else can step in and fall in love with her all over again. It's a little bittersweet. Either that, or my sleep deprivation has become so acute I am actually getting nostalgic over a home I've detested for years? Either way.

Which then leads to the question on everybody's mind....where you gonna go now, Heather? I don't know. I honestly don't know. I figure I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I'm confident that something will happen between now and the day this house becomes someone else's that will help me make those decisions. Of that, I am sure.

Hana

Have you ever had a sense memory? Smelled something or eaten something that suddenly brings you back to a different time in your life?

This morning I was getting ready for the day, and I inexplicably reached for a relatively old bottle of Aveda perfume in my medicine cabinet. I spritzed on a little, and suddenly ~ whoosh! ~ I was twenty-five again, living in Springfield where I didn't know a soul, and finding my first Aveda hair salon.

It's been a love affair ever since. I love the smells of Aveda. There hasn't been a product I've tried of theirs that I haven't liked. I never wear perfume anymore, but over ten years ago I did. It was called Hana, it was a pure-fume. They've since discontinued it, but I was able to buy a bottle off of EBay last year and have stashed it away for special occasions.

I can still picture the hair salon I walked into for help with my pathetic 'do. I remember the hairstylist (Melanie) who took me on as a client and changed the way I look at color.

I'm so glad I don't live there anymore, but I'm grateful that I found Aveda!

1

This morning was brutal. I was up all night with Griffin again. This time, he seems to have a head cold. The green boogers that glued his nose and one of his eyes shut were a few of my clues.

By 4:30 a.m. we were in the family room - me suctioning his nose and squirting Afrin up it, him screaming and clawing at me like a spider monkey. Once he could breathe again, he sucked down some warm milk and slept until 7:15, which is very late for a child of my womb. They seem to be born with egg timers in their brains that go off at 6:00 a.m. on the DOT.

Anyway, by 8:00, I had both boys bundled like abominable snowmen and we tredged out to the car. This is what my dashboard thermometer read....

In case you can't see it clearly, the temperature reads 1 F. There should be some sort of law against weather this cold in this part of the country.

While I'm thinking about it, I'm going to give my new company car a plug. I recently took delivery (apparently 1,393 miles ago) of a brilliantly blue Chevy Equinox. I had the choice of that, an Impala, a Grand Prix, or a Buick Lacrosse. I would have liked to choose the Buick, but alas I'm not 65 so it was against the law.

I chose the Equinox. And I have to say, I've driven a lot of different cars over the last eleven years of my career, and this is one of my favorites! The height is perfect for carseats...not too high (like our Tahoe), not too low (like a sedan). The trunk is very large, big enough for a stroller and a bunch of other stuff you want to cram in there. The back seat is roomy enough for two boys in two full-size carseats. I have enough room for a basket in between them and I can stick shopping bags on the floor if I need to.

The model I ordered came with heated leather seats, a HUGE PLUS in weather like this. And the best part of all? The feature I would like to kiss someone at GM for installing in all of their new cars? REMOTE START. Let me just say, if you don't have remote start on your car, you need to run out and get it. I have had it for the last three years and it is the best feature ever invented. In the summer, I can cool the car before I get in. In the winter, I can warm it up. There is no downside.

The only thing that was slightly disappointing is the color. I ordered Navy Blue. It is more of an Electric Blue. A little garish, but hey - it's free. Who am I to complain? Well, yeah, I would still complain but in this case I'm not gonna do it cause I like my new car. If you're in the market for a small all-wheel-drive SUV, or whatever they call this, I recommend it.

This afternoon my friend Sue, our real estate agent, is coming to the house to assess what needs to be done before we can sell it. The cleaning crew comes this morning, Rhonda and her husband Gary. They are the best housecleaners I have ever met, hands down, no contest. So at least Sue will see a clean house! Not organized, but clean. I'm interested to hear whether or not she thinks it smells like pee. Lots of houses with little boys smell like pee. I hope mine doesn't.

This is what the family room looked like after the boys left this morning.

It's all been cleaned up since then. All except for the top of my desk. I need to hire a professional organizer.

And here's a shoutout to Binnie, the blind old lady dog who lives with us. I love you, Binnie. (Can you see the fog in her eyes? She can't see me at all in this picture.)

Be still my frozen heart

It is expected to be a high of 10 tomorrow. That's Fahrenheit for my European friends. Very cold. So cold it's difficult to think about Spring and Summer, yes? NO!

I was just sitting here, collecting my thoughts and reading my mail before I go pick up the Anklebiters and begin what we like to call "Family Time" again. And lo and behold, I received a new Boden catalog in the mail.

Now, I've never really gotten the whole Boden craze. I'll read bloggers that say "oh, I'm just salivating over these Boden shoes" or "that Boden skirt" or whatever, and I think....really? Eh. It's just never been that exciting for me.

First, the prospect of ordering from overseas is daunting. I know, I know, they probably have a warehouse in Tennessee or something. But their catalog still has Euro sizing! So confusing.

And second, although their stuff has looked okay, it has never wowed me.

Until today.

I am truly in love with a few items. Namely, this dress and coat combination! Isn't this the cutest thing you've ever seen? Or this dress? Or these skirts?

I just read about the Wear Everything Challenge this morning that I stewed over all day. The author is challenging everyone to put a moratorium on shopping until you wear each and every item in your closet (winter wardrobe, that is). I thought "Wow! That's interesting! Do I want to try that?"

And the answer? NO. I do NOT want to try that.

Why? The economy is suffering. Shopping is what I can do to help out, in what little ways I can. Could I stop? Sure, I could. But then, maybe some little old lady who is relying on her dividend check from the Target Corporation wouldn't get one next quarter. Or a single mom who works at the Gap might get laid off, and who wants to see that?

So, no, shopping is what I will do until this economy turns around. And it will. And when it does, I'm going to be wearing my spiffy new digs from Boden. Like this one. And this one. I'm feeling warmer already!

More retailers should try this.

OK, this really bothers me.

Not because I have no patience for a site occasionally being down. Well, OK, I don't have a lot of patience for that, I admit. But no, it bothers me more because this happens to me all the time when I try to buy something from J Crew online!

I'd like to send them a letter. Maybe if I suggest that they kindly let their tech geeks go and hire a new crew? Maybe try to hire the crew that handles the Gap websites? They never seem to have problems with their online operation.

J Crew must be rolling in money. In this economy, to actually make it harder for people to buy stuff from you? Interesting tactic.

8:23

It's 8:23 and I have yet to get in the shower. And I'm on the computer. This does not bode well for a productive day, although I have a confession to make....I had to take a Provigil this morning, so it will take affect pretty soon and I'll be up and out.

Provigil is my Rescue Medication. I don't take it often, but my doctor prescribed it because I have some insomnia problems coupled with a baby who literally refuses to sleep through the night. We just recently tried a stint of him sleeping in Cooper's room in the extra crib. It didn't work. Five nights of me sleeping less than four hours (and less than before we tried it) and we went back downstairs last night.

So I took a Provigil. Here's what I've been told about Provigil - fighter pilots take it, surgeons take it, there are no lasting effects from it, it is not addictive, it is not a stimulant, it is not dangerous when taken as prescribed. You can take it for two straight years, every single day, and then stop with no withdrawal.

Its original indication is for narcolepsy. You know, like in "Duece Bigolow, Male Gigolo," where the girl had to where a helmet because she'd fall asleep at any time? They've since expanded the indication to include those who do shift work or where somnolence could be dangerous. Like me, where I'm supposed to drive around in a moving vehicle all day on three hours of sleep.

So the added bonus for me, and the thing I actually don't like about Provigil, is it makes me super happy. Zippy! Zing! I feel like I'm twenty-five again! I feel like I can take on the world! I get a lot done! I can't stop moving! You see all the exclamation marks? Yeah, that's it.

I am also not driven to eat too much and my brain isn't foggy from fatigue. So those are two great benefits of this wonder drug. I just wish I didn't have to take it. I wish I could actually sleep again.

I think I'll be stopping by Borders today. There's a book out I'd like to get. Maybe it's Mind Over Matter.

Oh, and speaking of Borders....I have somehow lucked onto a List somewhere. I have recently been contacted by a few different companies, starting with Banana Republic, to rate their goods and services in exchange for free stuff.

With Banana Republic, I'm on a panel that reviews new offerings. Like new pants styles, colors, stuff like that, and I get to keep the things they send me. With Fidelity Investments, they asked me to review their new website and tell them what I thought of it, and then they sent me money. Borders asked me to review my online ordering philosophies and they gave me a 30% off coupon for it.

I don't know how I got on this list, but I'm staying on it! I love this sort of thing. I'd pimp myself out for this sort of work if I could figure out how to do that.

And last but not least, Benjamin Amick is doing great! Thanks to all who sent up a prayer for him. And MJ is having another bambino, a brother for Jackie. Jack is the boy my husband used to confuse for his own firstborn whenever he'd see his picture on the computer. They now (Cooper and Jack, that is) don't really look alike except for coloring, but they were fairly similar as newborns. I'm so excited for her. I can't tell her, or you, or anyone really (except my sister-in-law, Jericia, and my brother, Brett, and every other parent of boys), how wonderful it is to have a houseful of boys. Weiners, weiners, weiners! I love it!

Psst....MJ, now you really have to start a blog.

Shoot, I missed it.

Apparently yesterday was National Delurking Day. I didn't know about it until this morning. So, if you're lurking out there, just say hi. A little hi. If you're too shy, just say H.

A little help?

**A little praying is in order tonight and tomorrow. My friend Benjamin Amick, or Little Big Heart, goes in for surgery tomorrow to repair a something or other with his duodenum. I'm sure he's gonna do great, he's a mighty might, that kid. Also, my friend MJ gets to find out the sex of her baby bean! That's exciting! Ok, carry on....**

Initially I started this post because I thought I needed help deciding whether or not I liked the new drapes I got for our family room. Now I think I really like them. I'll post the pics anyway, because I spent fifteen minutes uploading them and because I want my mom to see my new pillows, too. See, mom?

This is the old lame valances I had hanging up on our windows.



The windows are ginormous, and the ceilings are short. The house is eighty years old, they didn't build impractical vaulted ceilings back then. So it always felt like the ceiling was caving in on me in that room. I thought maybe new drapes would change the aspect somehow. It worked in Griffin's room so I gave it a shot here, too, and I think it's working.




So yeah, I'm happy with them!

Tonight I took Griffin with me to pick up pizza at a little local pizzeria. While we were waiting for the pies to be ready, the waitress stopped to talk to Griffin. Within five minutes, I had heard a little life story of hers, a slice of her life if you will. I hear a lot of stories like that. I've decided I'm going to serialize them somehow. Maybe a weekly post about "Stories I Hear" or something like that. Believe me, some of them are going to blow your mind. Like my friend P whose family came to the States by way of a leaky boat out of Vietnam, and when the boat sank....well, you're just going to have to tune in later.

penic

I have to say, Google has the greatest words in their word verification box. When you post a comment on Blogspot and you have to type in the word verification to be sure you're a human and not a spam computer?

One of the best ones I've ever had was penic. Then the next day I had something equally quasi-dirty, like vulvae or something. One letter off. I think there's a computer tech out there somewhere, just giggling at the funny words he comes up with that are so close to a real dirty word. He's probably thirteen.

I want to do more stuff

Have you ever wanted to do more hobbies or whatever, but there just isn't any more time in your life to do it? I'm not whining about being busy, I'm just saying I wish a day held 28 hours. That way, I could sleep a little more, I could write a little more, play a little more with my kids, and I could finally start knitting again!

I used to knit. My grandma Clare taught me how to knit and how to crochet. Then when I was in my twenties and living in Springfield, I took a class with my friend Lisa. I knitted up a storm for a while. Then I stopped, and haven't picked up my needles in ten years.

I recently (oh, God, that wasn't recently, that was three months ago!) bought the Sweetcase from Annie Amelia, a cute little knitting shop online. I just have yet to actually make the headband.

I am in love with Griffin's Crankypants and want to try my hand at making a pair similar to it (with a big fat G on the bum) but yeah....haven't started knitting yet.

*sigh*

I guess this will just go down in the books as "something I haven't gotten to yet." Someday.

P.S. So far, I love the Botox. My forehead is as smooth as my baby's butt. The only wee problem with it is I can't seem to lift my eyebrows in a look of surprise. I can frown OK, but raising the brows is difficult. I go in on Friday for her to review the work and see what needs to be adjusted for next time.

And now that my forehead looks so good, it's imperative that I work on the lower half of my face, it doesn't seem to match somehow.

***BREAKING UPDATE*** My bubble has been burst. I just found knockoff Crankypants on EBay for $30. Literally, one third of what the originals cost. Although not as cute, they are way more affordable and I don't have to stay up late learning how to sew. Sold.

They don't, however, come with the adorable Crankypants logo sticker.

OK, carry on.

Please, Marci, I am begging you!

You have GOT to start copying your blog to Blogger or Blogspot or whatever the H it is they call it. I can't stand reading your posts, laughing my guts up, and then not being able to respond. And I am no emailer, it takes too much effort.

For those of you who don't know her, Marci and I went to high school together. She is one of the cutest people you will ever meet in your life. She married another cutie patootie and together they have two sickeningly cute kids. The worst part, she comes from a long line of cuteness.

Her mother was (I'm sure she still is) a Doll. Seriously, the woman was the sweetest mom on earth when I was in high school. And get this...she has Marci, and then she has like seventeen boys! No, I really don't remember how many brothers Marci has, but it's at least four. She always seemed calm and collected. She was always in a good mood and when she wasn't, she was really sweet about it...I'm really grumpy today! hah ha ha [smiling]

Then Marci went and married another Cutie named Jeff, who is some sort of crazy talented fighter pilot or something insane like that. He's retiring from twenty years with the Air National Guard! Congratulations to Jeff, and to all the guys who serve our country. My brother was a Captain in the Marines until his son Gage came along and changed his Life Plans. I have great admiration for men and women like these two. Booyah.

Marci has commented on some of my posts and I have no way of responding! So, to clear up a few things, she doesn't have wrinkles. I do. She has beautiful skin, she always did. I have crapbag skin, I always have. I inherited my dad's rosacea and freckly speckles. It's a burden I must bear, but I will bear it with the help of my talented dermatologist, Dr. Kandula.

I decided to take a walk down memory lane this morning. It was a short walk because my closet that holds my old photo albums is ~ahem~ blocked by STUFF. So I grabbed the two I could reach without killing myself, and found a few gems from high school.

This is Marci with Tammy J (Marci's on the right, Tammy was the redhead). Tammy was also always smiling. I really liked her, I wonder what happened to her? Last I heard (eighteen years ago), her family was planning an Arranged Marriage for her. Interesting.

And this is the piece de resistance. Our Prom Picture. All of the girls that hung out together in high school got together for a picture at Prom 1990. Marci and I were the two brave souls who wore pink. My mom made my dress, I can't remember if Marci's mom made hers or not? She was a craft lady. Everyone else was on the black bandwagon back then. Notice the hair? The pouf? The size of everything? So much fun, the nineties!


By the way, Marci, Kim F (the other Tall Girl on the right of me) is one of the Adorable Mormons I Know. So you know one, too.

Everything is Boinga

I am in love.

I am in love with the song from the Backyardigans, "Everything is Boinga." Alicia Keys is the martian singing. If you right click on this video and open it in a new tab or window, you can listen to it and get it stuck in your heads, too! What a great song, everything is boinga. And that's the truth.



I had a huge post typed about what could be wrong with Griffin, but the more I think about it, I know the problem. He's just not ready to move on to sippy cups. He likes his bottles, and he really won't take any fluids from a sippy yet. So he basically goes hungry all day, and then comes home and makes up for it at night.

So now I have to have A Big Talk with the daycare teachers and make sure they let him nap in his crib and eat at a highchair. Blech, it's the last thing I want to do. Last night the child had four bottles in less than twelve hours!

Oh, the previous post (about buttons) was from Lyndsay, the graphic designer who put together my new "look." She's really talented! So if anyone is looking for a blog design or an Etsy banner or something, be sure to click on the link to the left and check out her stuff.

Link to my blog with a button!

Copy and paste the HTML code below into the HTML/JavaScript of your sidebar to add a Heatherty Feathery button. You can choose from two designs:


<br /><a href="http://heathertyfeatherty.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i289.photobucket.com/albums/ll208/lyndsayjohnson/button3.gif" /></a><br />


<br /><a href="http://heathertyfeatherty.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i289.photobucket.com/albums/ll208/lyndsayjohnson/button1.jpg" /></a><br />

Can you see me now?

I think this falls under the category of "nobody wants to know what you had for lunch," but nonetheless, you're a gonna hear it.

I took Binnie to the vet this morning. The poor girl has cataracts. When she looks at me I think "you're blind as a stone, aren't you?" We could do surgery when they start to affect her QOL (that's quality of life for you non-pharma people). Each eye costs $3,000 to fix. Yes, that's each eye. She better see the hell out of some stuff for six large!


I spent some time at the dermatologist this afternoon. I laid myself at her mercy. Fix me. I signed up for some sort of undereye treatment for my dark circles, and a wrinkle treatment. Then this past week I sprung with acne again, so I asked her to fix that while I'm there.

This is the Before Intense Pulse Light Treatment photo. Since this year began with the word ugly, I've decided to embrace my ugly and not hide it so much. This is really what I look like with no makeup first thing in the morning. Stunning, isn't it?

So the good news is the treatment she did is excrutiatingly uncomfortable. That's what doctors call pain, they call it discomfort, and they also call it pressure. This time it was just pain, but pretty quick. It kind of felt like she was flashfrying my eyeballs for a few minutes, one blast at a time. The weird thing is I really didn't have freckles under my eyes before the treatment, and now I do. Dark ones, too! It's basically the death of bad skin cells, pigmentation that doesn't need to be there, imperfections that make me more imperfect. They get fried to a black crisp and then they fall off. Sounds pretty, huh?

So that's my big day, a little work wedged in here and there, a little self-improvement. Oh, and it started off with Cooper wrapping his skateboard up in Blue Blankie and skating on his belly around the dining room. Kids are weird.

Oh, wait! I knew there was something Important I wanted to post. We're going to slap up a tile backsplash in the kitchen, throw a little lipstick on this pig before we take her to market in March. Do you like the mixed squares tile or the rectangles? I thought I liked the rectangles best, but when I put it up I'm just not sure? I could be thrown by the dark color of the cardboard sticking out behind it, that might be the problem. I wish I could do a poll, so if you wouldn't mind commenting and telling me what you think about my tile choices? Thanky!