And now... Jalapeno Jelly

The other day when I made the red pepper jelly I had bought enough jalapenos to make another batch but I got lazy and didn't. In truth it wasn't that I got overwhelmingly lazy, it was just that the red pepper jelly had to be re-cooked because it didn't set enough and by the time I finished sterilizing jars and reworking the same jam TWICE I didn't f'ing feel like making anymore. Back off. Oh wait, you didn't say anything. Anyhow, I finally made the jalapeno jelly and I'm glad I did. It's better than the red. Unfortunately I had the same problem and had to re-cook and add another box of certo, but it worked out great. The jam is sweet and not hot at all (I used jalapenos and green peppers). It's delicious as shown above with cream cheese on crackers. Making jam is surprisingly easy too, I mean, once you get the recipe right.

On a side note, a long time ago my best friend went to a wedding and they gave out home made jam as a wedding favor. Isn't that a great idea?

Movie cuts, or how come I'm not painting.

Today we're watching a movie together because I'm a moron and can't do anymore housework due to this self-inflicted injury I have. I was going to do some touch-up painting and decided that grabbing the first available tool, a rusty pair of tin snips, to open the can of paint was a great idea. It wasn't. I ripped off a layer of skin when the snip slipped off the rim then tore a hole, an actual hole, through the skin between my index finger and thumb, right through all the layers of skin. You know, that tender piece of loose flesh, right there. That's the one. Anyhow, since I can't be convinced to go to the E.R. I'm taking the rest of the day off those kind of chores.

So now we're watching a movie and V likes to give us play by plays of what's going on in the show, focusing heavily on the emotions of the actors.

This is what happened in a 5 minute time period of the movie "The Reader" according to V:

"She's happy"

"Oh no, she's grumpy"

"She's really grumpy"

"She's grumpy"

"He's sad"

"He's sad"

"He's sad because she's grumpy"

"She's having a bath because she's grumpy"

"She's not mad anymore"

"They love together"

Then later,

"Look at the lady. She was mad again."

"That wasn't good"

"Oh that lady. She gets mad again and again."

Veronica makes everything fun.

Because this is what we do all day.

A Big Day!

Whew! What a day. All the hype. All the excitement. All the anticipation. All the speculation and planning, and finally...it's here.

Veronica is potty trained.

Oh. You thought I was talking about the ipad? Well, yeah, that too is super cool. I mean, it's a really big itouch and I love me some itouch but...Veronica can pee and poop on the potty consistently. Today is like day three with both pants and panties on and a trip outside the house and not a single accident. Does the ipad change diapers? No. Does the ipad clean up pee? No. Does the ipad pay for diapers and wipes? No. Well then. Potty training is better than an ipad.

Of course I've likely jinxed myself and tomorrow will be a shit storm, but for today I'm feeling pretty good about this new leap into independence.

Don't get me wrong though. We're buying an ipad the minute they're available. I might consider trading in my potty-trained 2 year old for one, except I like her more now.

Red Pepper Jelly

It's been pretty quiet around here lately with all the reading and fiddling with electronics going on. Fortunately I was able to do something for the benefit of others in the house, you know, beyond cleaning and cooking and raising these children with love and integrity and blah, blah, blah. I made up a batch of Red Pepper Jelly. I've never made jam or jelly before and it turns out there are a lot of little things you should know. Like what pectin is and that there are about, oh I don't know, 50 different types and some of them will RUIN your jam. Or that the length of time you cook it and the amount of sugar/pectin you use can also RUIN your jelly, or turn it in to goo. Then who knew you had to make sure you only boiled the snap lids for 5 minutes and throwing them in the boiling water so they're ready half an hour before your jelly is maybe isn't a good idea. And who would have thought that the lids should only be finger tight when you put them in the water bath. Ah. Bah. At least it worked. I feel like a pioneer woman (but not the talented one with all the cooking and ranching and stuff), more like one with no time to shower, too many pairs of sweatpants and 9 jars of jelly.

Vocabulary

I asked Veronica if she wanted to play her piano today while I played mine, she said, "That would be great.". Then she said, "you are a piano-er and I am a piano-er". Pretty soon she'll be telling me what a good cooker I am too!

Technology and Me.

Once when I was a single 30 year old living in her own house on her parent's acreage, a big storm came through. It knocked out power to my house and all the other farms/acreages within 5 miles for 4 days and left me stranded alone. It was then, while melting snow to get enough water to flush the toilets, reading books by flickering candle light, and fixating on the hundreds of dollars worth of food defrosting in my freezer that I realized I require the low frequency hum of electricity to be mentally stable. That's not to say that electricity is a guarantee of my lucidity, it's just one of the required parts. Over the years I have developed a deep and abiding affection for technology. Every year I acquire and embrace a new piece of technology, shunning the 'old' way and running headlong in to the arms of 'the way of the future'.

This year, for Christmas, my brother bought me a Kindle. Love it? Yep. Need it? No, not really, but love it nonetheless. I bought him Apple T.V. I've been coveting it since I bought it. Several times I talked myself out of keeping it and giving him something else instead, you know, like a mug, or toast. I didn't, because I love my brother and he always gets me something wonderful. So imagine my disappointment when he unwrapped it, set it aside and DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO SET IT UP. It was all I could think about. I kept dropping little hints like, "Hey, when are you going to set it up?" and "Hey! Set that fucking thing up so I can see if it works!". He finally did and it worked and I wanted it. I also want a plasma T.V. now because he has one and oh my god, have you seen a big screen plasma T.V. in action in someones living room? Awesome.

Today, my latest venture in pimping my macbook/T.V./ipod touch crashed. My parents were here watching curling so I was supposed to be quick about fiddling with my set up (running my itouch through a dock and in to my T.V.), but it quit working and seriously, screw curling, my fucking itouch isn't playing on the T.V. I fiddled, I grumbled and eventually I set it aside and resumed not watching curling and wishing I could finish reading my book on the Kindle or fix the damn problem with my gadgets. The longer I didn't fix it, the more irritated I got. I started to feel twitchy and just generally malcontent. A lot like my two-year-old. Then I realized that not only do I need electricity to be sane, I actually need it all to be functioning. It's that same near panic that you get when you have something new that needs batteries and YOU HAVE NO BATTERIES. Only worse, because damn it, why isn't it working?! It should be.

Tomorrow I'm heading to the Apple store to either fix or replace the defective (might I add BRAND NEW BUT PASSED THE RETURN PERIOD DATE) components. I'm hoping that it improves my overall mental state without leading me down a slippery slope of temptation with all the gadgetry goodness there's bound to be present. Daryl's worried too, but just between me and you, he shouldn't be worried about the apple store, he should be worried about Future Shop, because baby needs a new plasma T.V.

What I'm Liking

In the spirit of the season I thought I'd reflect on my abject materialism and point out some expensive and indulgent items that tickle my fancy.

My number one: my itouch. Love love love LOVE it. Can't do without it anymore. It entertains V when nothing else will do. We've propped it up in restaurants, she's played games waiting in line or riding in the grocery cart and many nights she's had it in bed when we gave up and couldn't find another way to get her to sleep. It's loaded with tv shows and games and almost all of them were free. But that's not all, lately I've been downloading books and reading them using the ereader application and I love it. It's light it's easy and it's convenient. And... if that wasn't enough, for Christmas I bought Daryl the dock and the cables to hook it up to the tv, so now we can listen to music, rent and watch videos and look at photos all through our itouch (es- we have two). Awesome. Well done apple. My next purchase will likely be an iphone, although I'd have to say that the phone doesn't hold much appeal for me, but I'd rather have another itouch/iphone than just another cell phone.

If you have any money left and you're a girl, or a metro-sexual male, these are my next favorites.

Posie-Tint by Benefit. Love it. If you're inept in your selection and subsequent application of blush, this products for you. It adds just enough color to look like you have color and not makeup.

This is another one from Benefit. It's a kit and has a number of wonderful products to make your skin look fantastic.
And another one, because I'm always for kits that give you everything you need to look nice. In general you can't go wrong with any of the Benefit line. It's good stuff.
If over-priced but oh-so-lovely bath products are your thing then consider getting yourself some of this $35 a bottle bath/shower gel. It's light and fresh and lovely and if I hadn't spent $200 on cosmetics already I'd have bought the perfume in this scent too. Feel free to send me some if you'd like.
Usually a fragrance will last me about a year before I'm tired of it. Last year was Fleur Du Matin by Miller Harris and this year is this one...
I was given a sample and liked it so much I bought myself a bottle. It's new and I believe they consider it floral, but it's not overpowering.

So there you have it, if you want to be techie like me, look like me, or smell like me these are the things you're going to need. Of course there's lots of other things you'll need, like two gorgeous little girls and a fabulous husband, but I don't know where you can buy those. Oh wait, you can order your husband on eharmony like I did... but I don't think my husband's model is still available. At least it had damn well better not be!

Diaper Explosion

Let's just start this by saying that I learned a very valuable lesson today that I'd like to share. 7:15 is not the time to get all self-righteous and start taking a stand against your spouse. Like let's say that said spouse neglected to empty the diaper genie in the nursery (which fills much slower than the more used diaper genie on the main floor) and that now the nursery in question has several diapers sitting on top of the genie instead of inside. And then let's say that even though he implied he knew the situation by stating "I take it the diaper genie is full", he still chose not to empty it. And then this morning both your children are up early because you decided to stay up late and that's how that shit works, and now it's 7:00 and you've already changed two poopy diapers and one wet to bursting one. At this pointing thinking that emptying that diaper genie yourself is probably a good idea, but let's not throw caution to the wind. Like, say... by emptying out that huge blue rotten, festering diaper sausage and deciding that it's too much trouble to haul down the stairs...and just chucking it, or shall I say DEPLOYING it over the railing to the oh-so-hard hardwood floor below. That, my friends, is a bad choice. And by bad I mean once that over-burdened, uric acid weakened, blue sausage casing hits the floor it decides that it's purpose has been fulfilled and it joyfully EXPELS all those rotten diapers in a hamburger hill type explosion of staggering proportions. In it's wake, nose-assaulting, stomach content up heaving, should be wearing gloves for this, reconnaissance mission. And let me tell you that once you've cleaned up those diapers (with several visits to the bathroom to heave) and several wet swiffers later, you'll be sorry that you didn't haul your ass down the fucking stairs in the first place. And I'm not ashamed to say that, said husband, who knowingly or not contributed to the above situation, should read his wife's blog before he even thinks of coming home without some sort of conciliatory gift. Just saying.

Day Eight of Isagenix

Today is day eight and the first day of my second cleanse. Is that complicated? In other words, I start another two day cleanse today, which equals no food. I feel a little more resigned about it this time. That probably has more to do with the 2 hot dogs I ate yesterday and the guilt over that.

I've been good about sticking to the program all week with only minimal cheating. Which isn't, I suppose, really cheating if it's self-imposed and doesn't involve chocolate or candy. Since when did hard-boiled eggs and salad become a cheat? Yesterday was the company kids' Christmas party for Daryl's work. This was the third year we attended which is pretty amazing for me since BOY do I hate that kind of thing. There are two reasons to attend this party: I don't know anyone and Veronica (and now Zoe) get a present. I could lie and tell you that it's fun for Veronica to get out but in reality after 3 years of failed "FUN" it's really not about that. It's just not unpleasant which is more than some can say about their company functions.

When we got to the party we got settled and I immediately went to the little hot dog buffet and snagged 2 hot dogs, under the pretense that they were for Veronica and her Dad, and proceeded to dress them the way I like them. Then I ate them. One minute there, the next minute gone. Daryl wisely concealed the shock I'm sure he was feeling and chose to smile lovingly instead. Clever man because I'm not sure if I'd have cried or ate him if he'd said anything. They weren't even good though. I mean, oh they were good...to me, but you probably wouldn't have enjoyed them. They were salty and undercooked and definitely not health food. And now today I should purge. I've got a body riddled with nitrates and yummy preservatives and I feel great. Except for that stomach ache I developed about, say, twenty minutes after I ate those hot dogs. I didn't feel good then. Or later when I realized I couldn't/shouldn't eat anything else because I blew it with those hot dogs.

So besides all that, I'm feeling pretty good and as skeptical as I was about this I'm surprised by the difference. I actually told Daryl that my head felt clearer. It was like some of my memories were less cloudy than before. I think I might be able to remember the names of all those people I slept with now. Ha ha! Just kidding Dad. I also have a bit more energy. I'm not running around the block or anything (it's freaking -34 out there today!) but I don't feel wiped out anymore. I've also lost 5 pounds according to the scale this morning. All in all I'm feeling very encouraged and very motivated to keep going. Maybe all this clarity will improve my writing. You can always hope.

Let's try us some Isagenix

Isagenix.

My good friend Tracy recommended I try a product a while ago and last week I finally signed on. I should always listen to Tracy because she recommended I try eharmony which was how I met Daryl, whom I should also always listen to because he's how I met Veronica, and Zoe... oh wait...he's the reason I have these kids...and the reason I need more energy...and the reason I need Tracy to recommend this product. Ah well. Whatever. I'm listening to Tracy.

So 4 days ago I started day one of a 30-day cleanse. Yep. 30 days. Because hey, when you've never done a cleanse before you should start with something short, and easy, something say...30 DAYS LONG. No one ever called me faint of heart.

Anyhow, day one was PAINFUL. I was supposed to eat one healthy meal and two meal replacement shakes. No problem I had thought... the night before. Except when I woke up my family wanted eggs benedict for breakfast and so in order not to completely blow it with an over-the-top meal I didn't eat much. Or maybe it would have been enough except that you get that thing going in your head where you know you can't eat so all you can think about is food.

And that's what I did. Obsessed about food all day. And the next day. And the day after that. Until finally today, day four, I woke up feeling great. No kidding. Great. I even danced with V for half an hour. In fact at one point she had stopped dancing and there I was waggling my bottom in her face like some ho in a rap video. Ah come on, it made her laugh. This is not typical behavior for me. Not the putting my butt in people's faces part, I do that all the time, but the dancing spontaneously with my daughter at 7:30 in the morning. I pretty much always have a reason why that shouldn't happen.

Today is a true cleanse day which means no food. No food today or yesterday. Yesterday I barely managed. I'm drinking the drinks and taking the supplements and wishing like hell I had bought some unsalted almonds or something or that the package I bought had more snack type items in it. Does peanut butter count? However, despite the lack of food I feel good and even though yesterday I gave myself permission to only do one day without food I felt good enough to go today too. That's saying something.

In the days to come I'll elaborate about Isagenix, if anyone is interested, and maybe even if you're not. I'll also let you know the real deal about it and how it does or doesn't work for me and so far it's good.

Hmmm. The only thing that inspires me is me

This weeks' photography assignment was a self portrait with creative lighting. Why is it that for the last two weeks I haven't submitted anything but this week I was all over the photos of me? Ask me to take pictures of scenery or my kids and I'm all meh, but ask me to take a photo of me and my eyes light up. Anyhoo...enough about me, let's talk about...me.

A Little Something Cute

Milk, the other fluid that ruins mattresses

Argh. I know I've started posts before about how some days are shit and other days are um, not as shitty. Today started out as shit and doesn't hold much hope for improvement. Zoe woke up the second that the alarm beeped to let us know that Daddy had left the house (sans the dirty diapers in the garbage that he didn't bother to empty today...which is garbage day), and she's been making me crazy every moment since then. She's not a baby who cries much but when she's bored or uncomfortable she voices her displeasure in a loud and "I don't have words yet to tell you how pissed off I am so I'm going to make this noise. Grrrr" kind of way. As soon as she started her malcontent racket (and did I mention Mommy didn't get much sleep last night because she was up reading?), Veronica woke up and climbed in to Daddy's spot on the bed. Which is fine. Normally. She stopped at the mini-fridge in our room (a wondrous thing that eliminates unsteady midnight trips down the stairs) for a cup of milk (that her mom prepares for her before bed). All fine, all routine, until she spilled that entire cup of milk on the bed...and didn't tell me until it had thoroughly soaked in. Great. So as I stare at this relatively new mattress that I didn't bother to purchase a cover for I'm thinking.... milk. check. blood. check. urine. check. miscellaneous other fluids not related to sex or fun in any way. check. WTF was I thinking not purchasing a mattress cover? Beware parents. A toddler can ruin your bed faster than a year's worth of questionable patrons in a cheap hotel.

Thank god for oxyclean and elbow grease. Oh and the internet because this morning, while the washing machine hums gently in the background and Zoe grunts and squeals in the foreground, I'm shopping at www.sears.ca to find me a mattress cover. Enough is enough.

Lost In Words

I've had a bit of a strange month. My brother in law recommended a series of books to me and once I started reading I got lost. I've read over 20 books this month. I'm finding it hard to deal with reality. Not just because I've been drifting in a universe of someone else's making but because it's had a strange effect on my own desires. I love to read. I'll read anything. If you say it's good, I'll give it a shot. I can read prize winning novels full of insightful and evocative prose or romance full of weak plot and provocative characters. As long as I'm not feeling manipulated by the author it's all good. It doesn't matter. It all has worth and when you're looking at it through the eyes of a wanna be writer, it's all enviable. I've been dabbling with writing since I quit work. I've had little success. I can't find the time. I can't write the subject matter I want to in bits and pieces through the day. I blamed most of it on parenting and resolved to try harder or wait until the demands lessened. But reading these books made me realize that I'm never going to be that kind of a writer. This woman (Laurell Hamilton) writes two books a year. Who, besides Steven King, is that prolific? So for the last couple weeks I've felt a little disheartened that I would never be able to write like some of the authors that have given me so much pleasure and I decided to stop trying. Then something funny happened. I laid awake thinking about what I wanted to write and realized that even if it wasn't main stream or award worthy or even publishable, it had value too... because it would be mine. This morning I started yet another story.

Who knows if I'll finish it, who knows what will become of it. All I know is that somewhere inside me lurks a voice and a story that longs to be out and understood and all I can do is follow that purpose.

Is Facebook Holding You Back

I'm wondering if today's young adults will be changed thanks to social networks like Facebook. Once upon a time you graduated and were able to leave high school behind, you know, if you wanted to. And who among us didn't? Very few. Most of us wanted to go away and meet new people and become someone different, if only slightly, from the person we were in high school. Or perhaps that was just me? I always felt like there was some standard I had set for myself based on past deeds and actions that everyone from my home town expected me to uphold. For years after graduation I still judged my life through those eyes. What would they think of my boyfriends and friends. My career choices. My weight and appearance. It was a long time before I could let that go and just be the person I was. It's surprising considering how little connection I had with former classmates. It makes me wonder how things would have been different had we had something like Facebook back then. Now you're tethered to your classmates thanks to modern technology. You can go to college, meet new friends, become something new and wonderful and some jackass from your high school can decide to post something on your wall, or comment on a photo and all of a sudden you haven't come as far as you thought.

I'm all for getting in touch with long lost friends, I'm even in favor of a little cyber-stalking of former lovers, enemies and all manners of friends in between, but sometimes you need to just move on. Let it go. Get the hell out of Dodge. I learned at my ten year reunion that my opinion of people didn't change much. The people I thought were idiots in high school turned out to be idiots later too. Not nice? No, you're right but it's truth. I'm just glad that I didn't bother to stay in touch with them, it may have made it even harder to leave their opinions behind. I wonder if it'll be harder for kids today to sever those ties seeing as how easy it is to maintain them.

Something Quick

I created a book for Zoe using Blurb (a photobook printing site). They're having a contest for best book and if you'd like here's the link so you can vote for me.

Creative Outlet

I could do a whole series on these dinosaurs. They show up everywhere.
This was a picture I wanted to include in Zoe's photobook, but didn't get around to taking in time. Daryl did something similar with our wedding rings.
I've been having a tough time tearing myself out of books long enough to write anything. I've also started another photography course. For some reason I'm on creative overdrive lately. Everything I look at I want to do... photography, writing and music. Since I've had kids I've felt like I'm being held back from the things I really want to do. It's not that I can't do them, it's just that I don't have an opportunity to do things to the best of my ability because there's always something else that needs to be done. I hate doing things half-assed. I feel like an addict who can't indulge in my addiction so it's spilling out on to everything else in my life. I want to write but I don't like to write in the evening. I want to enjoy my time with my husband in the evening and lately I just want to shut down (thank you frustrating two year old). Photography seems to be just another vessel for expression to me and thankfully it's one of the things that can be done with an active toddler and baby. However, because I can't find time to write I'm going to fill this void with music. Sounds like a good plan right? I'm hoping to spark some interest in the girls too. I used sit and play for hours, I think it soothed my soul. I could use some soothing right now so I'm off to find myself a new teacher.

A Mastercard Type Thanksgiving

Just look at that sweet face. Who would think she turns in to a little screaming, vomiting banshee when placed at a gentle 45 degree angle and hurled in metal bucket at high velocity.

Time spent preparing to go to Grandma's house: 2 hours

Time to drive to Grandma's house for thanksgiving: 1 hr 20 minutes

Time spent visiting at Grandma's house: 6 hours

Time spent driving home from Grandma's house: 2 hours

Number of stops to clean and calm puking baby: 3

Memories: Priceless.

Not the usual e-cards

Need to send an e-card or invite? Try something different.

Cake. The Saga.

Ooh I see Cake. I want some.

Wait, what's this? She wants my cake.

No. You can't have it.

It worked. She sees the cake, but she's not getting any.

I'm a genius.

Oh God she wants that cake bad.

Hold on. I can't have the cake either? WHAT?

The end.

Italian Cream Cake brought to you by Mom.

Happy Thanksgiving!

We drive a hard bargain. Sort of.

Today we enlisted the grandparents to babysit (a first with two kids for them) and we headed to the car dealership to get me a new car. I can't say new car without using the "Price Is Right" announcer voice. It's a NEEWWW CARRRR (imagine me using that voice now if you will). Oh how I love a NEW CAR. Doesn't everyone? The smell of dangerous off-gassing, the gleam off the new wood replica trim, the supple touch of new leather. Mmmmm. Anyhow, we headed to the car dealership after a lengthy Internet search that started, oh...I don't know...two weeks after we picked up the last NEW CAR three years ago. In lieu of whining about the various issues we had with our 'luxury car' because seriously who gives a shit what kind of issues you have with your expensive car (you pompous assholes- it's a recession), I'll just talk about the new, NEW CAR experience. So as I said, we headed off to the dealership. There was some discussion about what we needed versus what we wanted. There was talk about options and add-ons and protection plans and on and on... Most importantly was the discussion about the COST, as in, the COST should be LESS than the old one. Being the level-headed, responsible, some might say anal-retentive couple that we are, we agreed on all these points and walked resolutely in to the dealership. We want a NEW CAR, we would say. We want to pay THIS MUCH. We don't want any extras. We want your BEST deal. We won't take NO CRAP from you. The rest of this fantasy plays out like this; we find exactly what we want, no scratch that- we find what we NEED, we negotiate a fair deal, we LOWER our monthly payments, we all skip off into the sunset singing and holding hands.

The reality was more like this. We go in, we don't see the car we want. Wrong color. We agree to test drive a DIFFERENT car. We agree that this car has everything we NEED, everything we AGREED we should have. It has NO extras. We DON'T like it. Nope, we hate it. Can't see ourselves driving it or liking it. We have a new agreement. We NEED extras. We find the car we WANT. We start a painful negotiation process. They give us the price. We don't want to pay THAT much, we want to pay LESS. They can't go THAT low, but they'll throw in a pen if we agree to this HIGH price. Back and forth we go until finally we all feel bad. We AGREE that feeling bad is good for all of us. The car is ours.

We have just bought the most expensive model they offer with all the extras, even the things we don't need or want. But hey, it's not all bad...we did lower our monthly payments. This NEW CAR costs us exactly $15 less a month than the last one. We'll be living large now.

Here's some advice. Don't send us to barter for you.

Photography Assignment #2

This week's objective was to take another portrait and to control the lighting in it. I think I took 200 pictures only to scrap all of them and change my concept later. I ended up shooting pictures in the dark with candlelight. We were also told to take pictures of our daily lives using some different composition elements (lines, symmetry, balance). Here are my submissions. I'm feeling a little insecure as I can see improvements that could be made and am anticipating some of the criticism I'll receive when he puts these up. We'll see what he thinks tonight.

Let's play outside, it's fun

Some days are UP and some days are not so much. Today will go down as a low point in parenting for me.

Veronica, Zoe and I were outside this afternoon in the backyard. Veronica was wandering the yard picking flowers and whatever else she could find and I was messing with the sprinkler after laying Zoe on a blanket. I notice Veronica off in the back corner of the yard (moving off to a secluded corner is a classic sign of pooping), so I ask her "are you pooping?", she says "no". I go about my business and several minutes later she comes over to me with some tomatoes in her hand. I ask her "did you poop?", she says "Yes, I pooped on the matos". That's her adorable way of saying tomatoes. Time stood still. I look at the matos. They're fine. I assume she means she pooped BY the tomatoes. We go inside, she kicks off her shoes, goes up the stairs and it's then I notice her feet and legs are covered in... guess what?!... that's right.... POOP! I get all panicky and twitchy immediately. I tell her to STOP and STAND RIGHT THERE, in my 'I mean business and am about to lose control voice'. She stops, thank goodness.... an hour later, both of us have pruned up fingers and toes and we are finally cleaned up.

The whole time I'm trying to use this as a lesson for why we MUST poop on the potty. Then I realize I'm probably giving her too much guilt and she's going to end up anal retentive as a result. So then I'm saying things like, "It's not your fault, but these diapers aren't made for pooping" and "Next time let's poop on the potty so this never happens again.". It really wasn't her fault. I had her in pull-ups which aren't as good as regular diapers and she's never pooped on the potty before so why would this have been any different. However, all that is fine in HINDSIGHT. When you're cleaning poop off someones legs and feet it's hard to have much perspective. Anyhow, we finally get settled in the living room, I hand her some juice and just to check I say, "So where are you going to poop next time?". She says, (no word of a lie) "On the floor" and points at the kitchen floor.

I'm a failure.

Photography Assignment #1

A portrait of someone else: A self portrait. I spent hours setting up a different shot with mediocre results. Later I shot this one in the mirror and preferred it even though it was less 'technically perfect' than my other choice.
I wanted to send this one but thought that as far as self portraits go this one wasn't showing enough face.
What do you think?

The Little Moments

This week was week number one of my photography course and as you can see my photos haven't gotten that much better, but the subject matter keeps getting cuter! Look at those chubby arms! And those cheeks! Gawd those cheeks. I could spend all day planting kisses on them.

I have had this new camera for 7 weeks and I have taken 900 pictures. That's right 900. For some reason, this time around, I can't take enough photos of everything. Not just the baby but all of us. I don't want to forget a single moment of our lives. If I could I put us on our own version of the Truman show I would, only without the other actors, and the deception, just the 24 hour cameras so I could never forget a moment. Is my life so much fun that every moment should be recorded you ask? No. I probably don't need to be reminded of the fact that I'm sitting on the couch while my daughter poops in her diaper in the corner. Or the terrible stomach ache that might have been more kidney stones, that kept me up all night and Daryl home from work this morning. The problem is...what if I miss an important moment? I've got the 'this is the last time I'll do this' blues. These kids are growing so fast I just want to put things on pause and catch up.

Well, in truth, I want to put some of the things on pause and some I want to fast forward. Pause the cute, chubby baby, fast forward the fussy, gassy baby. Pause the adorable and hilarious toddler, fast forward her testing the limits.

In the meantime I'll be taking more and more photos and keeping the photo processing companies in new shoes.

This Week's Craft.

I haven't received these yet but I've ordered them in poster size for Veronica's room. Can't wait. To make them I stamped her hand and foot on a blank sheet of paper. I scanned them in to the computer and uploaded them to www.picnik.com. Love that program. Can't say enough about it. Then I used the duo-tone and set the colors, put them in a collage, added a frame and some text...and voila. They won't be to size but that wasn't really the point for this one. I was looking for an art project that matched her colors to put in her room.

Going with the flow

It's evening and we're having tea. Veronica wants some. We are loath to say "No" one more time this day. Result: a two year old drinking the 'real deal' tea (loaded with sugar) before bed (I mean, what should have been bedtime, instead bed happened many hours later- go figure). Next we'll be swilling whiskey and bullshitting about the neighbours.

Cute.

Zoe seems to love her Spa Baby tub. This is a photo of her in it for the second time. It's difficult to get in at the folds of her chubby little legs, but it's worth it for the fact that she can keep her head up and she seems to almost want to stand.

God this little girl is so cute. She has an infectious little smile that she seems eager to share and best of all, she laughs. How can it be that my 6 week old little girl can laugh already? That's got to be a good sign. I'm going to need some massage therapy though after I spend all day hunched over with the video camera trying to capture that laugh.

Create your own font

The site is http://www.fontcapture.com/. I thought I should add that this would also be a cool way to capture your child's handwriting. I'd do it...if either of my kids could write.

Moravian Star

I've debated over purchasing a Moravian star fixture on eBay for about, um, 3 years. I love them. I don't like the $300 and up price tag though. So I've waited and looked and looked some more but I still hadn't found one until this. London Drugs had these stained glass candle lanterns for about $30. I bought it, brought it home and gave it to my Dad. Now who said that having a master electrician for a father was only handy for basement developments? Not me- that's who because several weeks later these lovely fixture is hanging in my office. Isn't it lovely and only a fraction of the cost of the ones I was looking at. Granted I'd have preferred clear glass, but this one has character.

And Zoe's poor skin is as bad as ever, still.

Blemishes

I've been rather reclusive lately and I'm a little ashamed of the reason. Sweet little Zoe has come down with a raging case of baby acne. What a horrible condition this is. It showed up last week and within two days her cheeks and chin were completely covered in red bumps and zits. I know it likely doesn't bother her and I know that I shouldn't be bothered by it, but when I see her ruined skin on her otherwise gorgeous face it bugs me. I don't want it to be the impression people have of her. I've had two people look in her stroller at her and exclaim, "Oh! How old is she?". Which you just know is the substitute for "Oh how cute!" or "Isn't she gorgeous!", you know... the things people said before she got baby acne. Next time I'm going to just punch whoever it is in the face and when they're dragging themselves up saying "Why? Why?", I'm going to calmly say, "She's gorgeous you stupid motherfucker. No piss off and stop being so damn nosey". You might think that's a little aggressive and frankly so do I, which explains why I'm being reclusive. It's the best thing for the children.

Anyhow here's a clip of her gorgeous face zits and all, and sohelpmegod if you don't go bananas over how cute she is I'll come find you so I can punch you square in your judgemental nose.

Mixed Blessings

I want to complain about these kids (as it's been a tough week) but I know that I shouldn't because well, god damn things could be so. much. worse. Like for example these people, the Spohrs who lost their baby girl only 4 months ago and she has blogged all along both before and after Maddie . It's heart wrenching and sobering, and for me it makes me thankful for every minute I have with these little girls. Or if that wasn't enough of a reminder about the frailty of life and overcoming loss, there's fatcyclist who blogged about his wife's struggle with cancer that she recently lost. Or Nie Nie who is rebuilding herself and her life (and just recently published the first pictures of herself) after a tragic plane crash that has left her recovering from extensive burns.

Some people are very critical of bloggers and I imagine a lot of it is deserved. A lot of us (me included?) have little to say but insist on saying it. Some of us (me included?) aren't very good writers or have a terrible sense of humor. Fortunately for us, me included, there are some really good blogs out there who inspire us to do or be better. And that's the point. To connect with people you otherwise wouldn't have. To discover like-minded people through this vast planet who you feel a kinship with. To share your own experiences and ideas to likewise inspire others and most of all to just not be alone. If you didn't know that was true you just need to read the comments on some of these blogs. People can be truly kind and wonderful. It restores my faith in mankind when I see it and the internet seems to be the best place to find it.

From the mouths of babes (or at least this one)

I'm going to put a new entry in wikipedia for precocious and in it I'm posting a picture of Veronica. Oh my we're in for some trouble with this one. When I was pregnant with her and obviously not as sage as I am now, I made a total ass of myself in front of a group of female coworkers. Wait, I have a point, I'm not just randomly bringing up instances in which I look like a schmuck, although I could. I really could create a blog just about the times I was an asshole. In public. Anyhow I'm not going to. So there I was sitting around with a bunch of intelligent, working women who were kind enough to express interest in my opinions about my unborn baby. In hindsight, I'm not sure if they expressed interest or were politely listening while I gave my opinions to them. I guess it doesn't matter now, I'm only speaking to two of them now. Hmmm, I wonder. Perhaps I should have been a better listener.

Ok, the point. At some point I said that I didn't care if my baby was smart, I said something to the effect of, "I hope she's dumb, but happy". Yep, I said that. Which would be fine if I hadn't said it to the mother of a child with a learning disability, who then pointed that fact out to me therefore making me feel like a total ass. See now that I'm wiser I should have said, "I don't care how smart she is as long as she's happy", or maybe "I just hope she's happy". That's the correct thing to say. However, regardless of the fact that I'm wiser about what I should say, I'm also wise now to the realities of the truth in my first statement. Oh how I wish sometimes that my child were not quite as clever as she is. And at this point an extra dose or twenty of happy wouldn't be bad either. I'm also pretty sure it would serve her well later in life to be a little bit oblivious and so contented that she only sees the positive in everything. Don't we all know someone like that? Sadly, I'm pretty sure that V is going to see things for how they are, become obsessed with cruelty and injustice and have a hard time accepting stupidity...just like her mom. I think she may also have a hard time making friends if she doesn't lose her condescending attitude too.

So in the spirit of sharing I'm going to list some of Veronica's favorite sayings (or things most commonly heard around our house).

Ok, Ok, just calm down.

Everybody just relax.

No, you be good.

You be happy.

I have to tell you something.

Shhh.

Be quiet (oh how I hate this one).

I love you too much or I love you so much.

Mommy, this is terrible.

Take care of me. (meaning anything from feed me to play with me)

Oh the fun.

Argh.

Dooce might not want to talk about but I sure do. Breastfeeding sucks. There I've said it. Did you hear me you droves of lactation consultants? It sucks. Now that I'm three weeks in to it and have experience with all forms of feeding; pumping, formula and straight from the boob, I can offer you my two cents.

I feel like I'm tethered to this couch and it's not helping my resolve to get rid of this baby weight. This sweet baby eats less when it's straight from the boob, it takes her longer to feed and therefore I spend much more time nursing then I'd ever have done either pumping or formula feeding. Someone told me that nursing was easier because you don't have to fuss around with sterilizing bottles. Yes, that's right. Instead of batch sterilizing several (or thirty if you want) bottles you spend an hour *each time* getting your sleepy or fussy or frantic baby to latch on and get a good drink.

Thanks to a weekend filled with company I over-indulged in Halloween chocolates (why oh why do they bring it out so early?) and diet coke WITH caffeine. The result, one miserable baby with a tummy ache and two very tired parents. Poor thing. So no more Halloween chocolates (not that I needed more incentive than my pant size to figure that out) and no more caffeine. I'm pretty sure that formula feeding was easier. I'm also pretty sure that the voracious first sucks on the formula bottle didn't make my toes curl from the pain, nor did the sight of the bottle nipple stretching leave me wondering if my body would ever return to normal. I've read the literature, I get it, but is this baby's life going to be better if she's two IQ points smarter? Is my crappy diet, which right now is decidedly lacking in fruit and veggies, making nutrient dense milk? Where does DHA come from? Formula costs what, $20 a week maybe... my breast pump, that I'm renting because my boob's desire to feed and my baby's need to be fed are not the same, costs $30 a week.

Don't get me wrong, I'm going to keep doing it as long as it's what Zoe prefers (which it is), but I'm also going to feed her formula when we're out (because I can't gracefully feed her in public without exposing myself or ducking completely under a blanket) and pumped milk sometimes when we're home (just because I can and Daryl likes to feed her too).

It's going to take a multi-faceted approach but somehow I'm going to get this baby the best nutrition I have to offer. Hopefully my boobs don't fall off in the process.

A Little Late

New camera, new baby, new photos

A Sad Farewell

It was a tough weekend.  On Thursday night we noticed that Polly, my cat of 8 years, was acting strangely.  Having been diagnosed with a rare disease last year, we assumed that the illness had something to do with that.  We were wrong.  At 4:30 AM when I finished feeding Zoe for what felt like the billionth time I watched Polly walk down the stairs to the walkout level and said to Daryl "We should check on her".  Then I rolled over and fell in to the equal and opposite state to Zoe's milk coma she goes in to every time I breastfeed her.  I woke up somewhere around 9:30, fed the milk monster, went downstairs and sat on the couch.  While sitting there I heard a mournful cry from the basement.  Daryl and V went down to find Polly laying on her side crying on the floor.  I got dressed and rushed her in to the vet.  She was cold and calm and several times I checked to see if she was breathing, but when I touched her she still purred.  She still purred my sweet Polly.  When we got to the vet I couldn't speak anymore, it was painfully obvious that she wasn't in a good state.  The lady took Polly and I could hear the rush of activity in the back.  It was eventually revealed that Polly had been poisoned thanks to someone in our neighborhood poisoning mice.  Mice poison acts as an anti-coagulant and as a result Polly had pretty much bled to death on her litter box.  We decided not to pursue any further life saving measures as there was no pulse in her back end and she had already been revived twice.  It was painful and heart breaking.  Is there anything sadder than a woman alone in a vet office crying uncontrollably while her cat lies dying in the next room?  I don't think so.  I chose not to be there when they let her go and I'm still regretting that decision.  She had purred when I talked to her, would she have been comforted by my presence?  I feel like I let her down; first by not taking her in sooner and second by not being there in the end.  Later at home, while I held our beautiful Zoe and cried I imagined myself going door to door all teary eyed and miserable asking which neighbor was poisoning mice because they had just killed my sweet cat.  I'm not going to do that though.  

So farewell my sweet, sweet Polly.  I will miss you as my constant companion at night.  I will miss you pushing your head in to my hand to get me to pet you and I will miss sharing tender moments staring in to your green eyes while I rubbed your belly.  I will always wonder why you showed so much fascination for Zoe when she arrived and why you seemed so attached to her already.  I will forever regret every time I ever pushed you away or admonished you for being irritating.  You were never an irritant, I was just a jerk.  You were a good cat and I was lucky to have you.  You are and will be dearly missed.

Zoe

She's been part of our lives now for 3 days and I can't imagine another moment in my life without her.  I ache to hold her when I see her laying down or when Daryl is holding her.  It's truly staggering how much I long for her.   I've been lucky that Daryl has been able to keep Veronica occupied while I spend time just adoring this new little creature.   Although keeping V occupied has been no small task.  She's definitely feeling some jealousy so we've been going out of our way to pay attention to her and lavish her with love too, even though she's pushing her limits.  Tonight she sat and held Zoe, which was good for all of us to see.  She doesn't know what to think of her and she won't quickly tell you that she likes her sister anymore if you ask.  Hopefully we will settle in to a routine soon, one that involves V relaxing and being sweet again.  

At Long Last

Zoe Lynn 

 8 lbs 1 oz

July 25, 2009