Blog blather

So, Christmas was good. I enjoyed not having to pack up presents or kids (or anything else, for that matter) and travel anywhere. On the other hand, I did much more cleaning and meal preparation than in previous years. It made me feel like a grown up. Can't say I enjoyed that too much.

The toy manufacturers went above and beyond this year in their quest to ensure that children cannot experience the joys of toys on Christmas morning. You know how the twist ties that held your toy in the box have evolved into hard plastic zip ties? Well, this year, the hard plastic zip ties evolved into screws. Not one, but TWO of Noah's toys were screwed into the box. SCREWED INTO THE BOX. Seriously, people. It's a $5 truck. If someone wants it that bad, let 'em have it. I have a few more things I could say about "screw" and "toy companies", but I'll refrain.

In other news, I <3 recycling. Does that translate? I *heart* recycling. There. Now you have no doubt. After a recent post of Jackson's, (and the pursuant comments), I had determined to follow up with the city about a little blue recycling can. It's not really a can, though. Bin? Canister? Container. A little blue recycling container. But before I could call, said container was unceremoniously thrown into my front yard. (I had mixed feelings about this. I was glad to see the container, but a little peeved that it was crushing one of my children's plastic toys.) I have long known about the joys of recycling. My sixth grade science project was on recycling. (I tried to find pictures, but I think they're at my mom's house [look at how BLUE that water is!] Sorry. I know you really wanted to see sixth-grade me.) But since the little blue container showed up on my lawn, I've made a bit of a game of discovering the plethora of things that can be thrown into the Recycling Container That Makes Me Absurdly Giddy. Milk jugs, soda cans, junk mail, cardboard boxes--these are all well and good, and make me happy enough to recycle. But did you know you can also recycle plastic bags? And yogurt cups? And styrofoam cups from Sonic and Jack-in-the Box?! And OLD LEGO CONTAINERS?!? It's spectacular! I realize I'm inordinately pleased by all this, and I should probably try to temper my excitement, but, really, what's the point? At this point in my life, I figure I'm too far gone on the dorkiness dark side to try to work my way back to cool.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Dee-bee Dee-bee

Noah's favorite movies are Toy Story and Toy Story 2 (Buzz and Buzz 2). He's been watching them a lot lately, but I didn't realize how much until just now. He's sitting in front of the TV watching the previews for Buzz 2, and there's a preview for Snow White on DVD (Dee-bee dee-bee). I just watched my son name, in perfect synchronization with the preview, all 7 of the dwarves. Impressive. And a little scary. But mainly impressive.

Good night, sleep tight

Noah just woke up crying, and so, since I'm not in bed (I've been trying to find a place I can get 3.5 x 5 prints, and it turns out I can't. Well, I can, but it's complicated.), I took him back into his room and rocked him and sang to him. I haven't done that in a really long time. It was a very bittersweet experience. It seems so silly, but I had some of that inexplicable queer ache. I don't want to overdramatize the experience, because it's not like I was overcome with emotion or anything, but it was the first time in a while I've really just sat and held my baby (who is NOT a baby anymore). I was thinking about when I used to get up in the middle of the night and sit in the rocker to nurse him, and while I certainly don't miss waking up in the middle of the night, I do miss those quiet times when I was forced to sit and do nothing (and when HE would do nothing), and we would just BE together. I don't have very many more times of sitting in the rocker with Noah, and it makes me a little sad. Don't get me wrong, I am very aware of the intense blessing that exists in my brand of sadness, but it is sadness nonetheless.

Cathartic blog

I woke up at 4-ish this morning (becaus of Noah in bed with us), and couldn't go back to sleep for a while, thinking about my story (more on that in a minute) and my possible college application. As I lay in bed, I started composing this blog post, but by the time I thought, "I should get up and blog", I was actually getting tired enough to fall asleep, and, after all, sleep is what I REALLY want to do at 4 in the morning, not blog.

So, first, the story. I had made up my mind to finish it last week, and that didn't happen. Then I decided to finish it this week, and that's not going to happen. But the problem isn't (really, it isn't) procrastination. This is new for me. Usually everything in my life that doesn't get finished or done is a victim of my legendary procrastination. But this time it really is different. The past couple of weeks, any time I sit down to write, I'm dreading it. I feel drained, like I'm forcing this thing out of my weary brain. During (most of) November, I was having a blast. I really enjoyed the process of writing my story, and the creative outlet it provided me. Now I'm just not having fun at all with it, and I feel lots of pressure from myself to get it out there for my faithful readers. My original plan was to finish the story, take a few weeks off, then start editing it. I think I may have to give myself permission to just let it go until January or even February. My creative juices are so juiced out, and I think maybe I need the time to let them recharge. Let me say, however, that I am VERY committed to finishing this story. I've wanted to write a book ever since I was, like, 5, and I haven't accomplished that goal yet. I won NaNoWriMo, and that's huge! But my story isn't done. I want to finish it, I really do. But I think I'm going to wait. I desperately need some time away so that this is fun again. Because, if it's not fun, why do it? There are lots of noble answers to that (the betterment of society through literary genius--ha!), but really, I want to have fun with it. I promise I will post the next part of what I have of the story in a few days.

So, the next thing. I'm having second thoughts about my application to UIS's Online English Program. One of the reasons for this is my story. If I'm spending a lot of time next year revising, rewriting, and expanding my story, will I have time to do school work? Or will school work (such as an option to take a fiction writing course) help me with that? Also, I will be watching an additional child come August, as Abbey's mom is due in May. That means I will probably not have as much free time during the day, because who knows how New Baby's nap schedule will work out. But then, it may work out great, and maybe I will have just as much time as I have now. But will I have enough time to do school work and work on my story? Will I lose my mind trying to do it all? Should I put off the story so I can finish school? Should I put off school so I can finish my story (I mean, really finish it)?I really don't want to put college off if now is the right time for this. The problem is, I just don't know if now is the right time. The other problem is, I have to have my application in by January 15th. I could just send in the app, and then turn it down if I decide later that I don't want to/can't do it. But there's also a $50 app. fee, and I really don't want to waste that money. It's not like it's $500, but $50 is $50. I wouldn't mind spending the next month thinking and praying about this, but I really want to know the answer. They only accept 25 students every year, and, as we already discovered, they don't accept students mid-year, so if I'm going to apply, I'd like to do it ASAP.

So that's what I was thinking about at 4:00 this morning--what I've been thinking about for the past couple of weeks, in fact. I need your input. I've spent several hours with the Lord on the college thing, and I just don't have a clear answer. I also need your understanding on the story delay, but I need you to keep me on it come mid-January or February. I REALLY want to finish, and I'll need motivation when the time comes.

That's all.

Bob

Or, fun with pictures.

I went to the grocery store today. For a general idea of how this went, read this. Except, throw two toddlers into the mix. One of them is nice and demure, the other is loud. Very loud. And grows louder the longer we are in the store. (But, really, who can blame him? From the time I got in line to the time I finished loading the groceries into the van, it took 40 minutes. 40 MINUTES!!! My cashier was stupid and slow, and should be made to wait in line at Wal-Mart for 30 minutes with a whiny toddler.)

But that's not really my story. My story is this: by the time I got home, I had low blood sugar and was feeling sort of shaky, and I still had to bring all of the groceries into the house and put away the cold stuff before I could finish eating. So I did. No big deal.

The only problem was, in my haste to get to my lunch, I forgot that Bob likes to attack bottles of water. I discovered this several months ago when I had stored an extra bottle of water on the floor. I came into the kitchen several hours later to find about a quart of water on the floor. It had leaked from three tiny claw holes. Teeny-tiny holes. (Fun with super macro setting on the camera.)

Today wasn't so bad. There wasn't too much water on the floor, (because there was only one hole, pictured above), it was just one more thing to deal with, you know?

Now, look at Bob. He doesn't look guilty, does he?


















"Who, me?" he says. "Why, I would never! I'm just laying here, innocently bathing myself. I've been maligned."

Don't believe him.

Here is where I have found solace.

Bodily Functions and the Alphabet

I apologize in advance.

I started to feel sick last night around dinner time (but before I had eaten). There were several moments there that I really thought I was going to lose it. However, determined that nobody (especially yours truly) should be sick on their birthday eve (and, possibly, their birthday), I took Pepto Bismol & off-brand Phenergan, breathed deeply, and thought happy thoughts. Within an hour I was able to eat dinner (although I ate it over the course of about an hour, not wanting to push my luck), and this morning I feel pretty darn good. Yay.

Also last night, I discovered that Noah uses the word "peep" and "peeped" instead of "pee" and "peed". I think he associates it with "poop" (naturally), and I guess he thinks "peep" is just the appropriate counterpart. I tell you this for a reason. This morning as I changed his diaper, Noah asked, "That peep?"
"No, it's PEE," I corrected him.
"What?" he responded. "P, Q, R, S?"

Seriously.