Stop Poking The Baby!

Annie had her one-year check up this morning, and even Dr. Sumner said, "Oh, I hate this visit." The one year is apparently the worst, since they get poked with needles all over their bodies...

Okay, really she just got three shots (one in each leg and one in an arm) and a finger prick, but when you're so small, it feels like they're poking you all over. At least she cried like that's how she felt... She got the Pneumococcal Conjugate vaccine (pneumococcal infection=meningitis or blood infections; this was the fourth and final dose of this one), the MMR vaccine (Measles, Mumps, Rubella; which she'll get again at 4), the chickenpox vaccine (which was in with one of the others), and a Hepatitis A vaccine. Then they tested her blood for lead and maybe for something else...

It was not fun...And she's been angry ever since.

But other than the anger, she's a healthy baby girl. She's 29 inches tall and 19 pounds. That makes her petite...duh. Since she's still in some 9 month clothing (and just outgrew one 6 month pajama outfit two weeks ago), I could have told the doctor that without the measurements. :)

Right now she's in her crib, yelling baby obscenities at me (but she yells them when I get her out, too) while she avoids a nap.

This too shall pass...

What A Little Sister Does (when big brother's not watching)

I'M IN UR ROOM
PLAYIN WITH UR TOYS

Jake: Secret Agent??

Jake survived his illnesses (if I haven't yet told you about the hives and the trip to the ER, you're not alone. We've been too exhausted to talk much around here) and he's back at school this morning. But don't think for a minute that he spent all of his time last week laying around watching tv. Apparently he got a job with the government...

Yesterday Jake was writing a note. He muttered to himself as he wrote, then said, "S-E-C-I-N...Mommy, what comes after 'nnn' in 'second'?"

I told him the word ended in a "D" and that he could change his "I" to an "O" to spell it right. Yes, I'm picky about spelling even with my poor five-year-old.

So he wrote that word, then the next. He folded up his note, put a sticker on it, and asked, "Can you put this in the mailbox?"

"Sure, Jake, who is it going to?"

"The government."

"Umm...really? What does it say?"

"It says, 'Mommy is the second boss.' Mommy, how will the mailman know this is for the government?"

"Well, the mailman works for the government, so I guess he'll just know."

He didn't seem to believe me, but of course I have bigger concerns: Why the heck am I second?? And why does the government need to know??

Annie Plans Her Wedding

That's a picture of Annie testing wedding cake...See the chocolate in the corner of her mouth? Very dainty...albeit messy...little girl. :)

Annie and I joined Granny, Aunt Jane, Adrianne's mom, and Adrianne (the bride!) at a bridal show on Saturday. The plan was for Adrianne to get ideas for her wedding, and I think it helped. I had no idea, however, that Annie would begin planning her own wedding this young.

You should have seen her. One of the first things she found was a wedding dress. A beautiful dress was hanging at one of the booths and Annie started reaching for it as soon as she saw it (no, I didn't let her touch it. I'm not one of those moms. I know she's a kid--she has grubby hands). She "talked" about it and stared at it... Then reached for Jane to hold her: we think because Jane is taller so Annie could see the dress better. We walked two rows away from the dress, Annie squirmed to get down to walk...and she led me all the way back to that dress! She reached out for the woman working at the booth to hold her (no, I didn't let her). I think she figured this must be the woman who could give her that wedding dress!

Even when we left, as we passed the dress, Annie reached for it. I think the girl's found her dress...

I wonder if the bustle will hide her diaper bulge...

At any rate, thanks to Adrianne for letting us join her Saturday and for sending me the picture of Annie. I would post a picture of the dress Adrianne found, but I guess there's a chance Billy might see it, and I don't want to be the one to ruin the surprise. :)

*&#$*in' Flu Shot!! Grr...

So...after all the stress of getting Jake's flu shot before Christmas, he now apparently has the flu. Grr...I'm just irritated at fate right now. His fever at last check was 101.8, he's shivering and has no energy, and he's complaining that his body feels funny. I'm not a doctor, but it sounds like the flu to me... We've cancelled the plans he had for tomorrow and we're looking at another day hanging around the house (which we haven't left since Friday).

Grrr...stupid flu shot...

"Well, I AM A Funny Kid..."

That's what Jake said this morning when I told him I was going to write something he said on my blog.

Jake is home from school today with a slight fever and a yucky cough. We've been watching Rachael Ray (and learning about all the dust mites in our pillows--yuck!), with Jake talking through the whole thing.

He was talking along about something when he stopped and said,

"My brain is crooked."

I kept watching the show.

"Aren't you going to ask why my brain is crooked?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jake. Why is your brain crooked?"

"'Cause I can't think straight."

hahahaha. Now there's something to make a few of you lol. :)

Hoping To Adopt Blog

A good friend of mine recently started a blog that I think will benefit a lot of people. I know a lot of the people who read my blog have had the kids they want, but for anyone who is thinking of adopting or who knows someone who is, I highly recommend going to this link. I think it's fascinating to read because I'm finding out things about my friend I didn't know...things she went through when she decided to adopt.

Anyway, go look for yourself or pass it on to someone who can use the advice from someone who has been there: Hoping To Adopt Blog.

And Then Annie Said...

And so the funny things Annie will say begin...

This morning I was awakened to Annie yelling again and again,

"BABY!!!! BABY!!! BABY!!!!"

(It sounds like: "bebe! bebe! bebe!" Must be her French ancestry peeking through...)

When I went into her room, there was a baby doll right in front of her crib and she was reaching for me. I picked her up, and she didn't seem interested in the doll anymore.

So now it's time for me to interpret. Was she

1. Yelling, "Mommy!! I want to play with my baby!!!"
2. Yelling, "I'm the BABY!!! Come get the BABY!!!"

I suppose we will never know for sure.

What I Get For Reading Woody's Blog

I mean, I know I hate to answer the phone or be in crowds, but wow...

Ooh, you're a dark one. Sitting in the corner, singing to yourself, playing with matches and twitching. Most of the time you instinctively avoid company, and if you're forced into close proximity, things do not go well. You can probably stop stabbing that teddybear now. It's not going anywhere.
What's your malfunction?

Fat & Poor

So...Jake has made a few interesting observations recently. I suppose five (and a half) is the age when kids begin labeling people...

I'm happy to say that the person to whom I've been referring as my "soon-to-be-hopefully-sister-in-law" is officially...well, almost my sister-in-law. :) Adrianne and Billy are engaged, and now that Jake realizes what this means for him (he'll have another aunt!), he's not grossed out by the whole "boys and girls get married" thing.

Which is where our first conversation came from. The other day on the way to school, Jake asked if Adrianne and Billy were married yet. (I can remember thinking these things took forever too when I was a kid. My uncles James and Gary dated women that I really wanted to be my aunts, but they dated a lifetime before they finally got married. A lifetime in kid years could be six months or less...Hi Aunt Sue!)

I told him that planning a wedding takes time and he asked why. I explained, "You have to pick a date and place, figure out what to wear and who to invite, decide what food to have..."

Jake interrupted, "And what kind of cake!"

"Yes, and what kind of cake. That's the most fun part of planning a wedding [come on, you know it is] because you get to test all kinds of cakes."

"Oh." Jake was quiet in the back for a minute. Then he said, "Well, I hope they don't get fat."

Hmm...perhaps we have a little future dietician on our hands here...

And then the other thing he said...

Recently Ike helped our neighbors set up some something or other with their computer. Our neighbor Tom is a professional chef (you should look for one of those as a neighbor--it has serious perks) and currently works for Cisco (Sysco? Cysco? I don't know) selling food to restaurants. Anyway, every now and then he and Mary give us food that he has leftover from selling--yummy restaurant-quality food.

So to say thanks to Ike for the help on the computer, Tom gave us lobster bisque and a gynormous (not a real word, so it's okay if I spelled it wrong) smoked turkey. Jake overheard Ike and me talking about the food.

He said, "So Tom and Mary gave us food??"

We said yes. Jake was very quiet for a long time. And then he said...

"Oh...they must think we're poor."

Hmm, perceptions...

I told Jake, "No, actually honey, that's why your grandparents give us food."

(Okay, I didn't really say that. He thinks we're rich and I don't want to be the person to spoil that for him.)

Watch out for Out-Of-Breath Gators in Greensboro!!

Okay, this would only be better if I had the patience to wait and write after I went out to take a picture of what I saw...

Do you remember the bear in my backyard? Well, watch out, Greensboro. There are now alligators on Westridge Road.

I know this because I saw the sign (and here's where the visual would be perfect). The nice thing about people around here (like my friendly neighbor who told me about the lion/bear in my yard in September) is that they are very helpful. Someone on Westridge did the neighborly thing. When they saw an alligator on their street, they put a sign in their yard.

Not only did they write about the gator, they even told us what the gator was doing. And they gave us a phone number to call (all on this sign), I guess in case we see the gator.

So, I suppose we need not worry too much. The alligators in Greensboro must be tired. After all, the sign said:

GATOR PANTING
336-555-1212*


Lesson we should all take from this? If you're going to pay for a sign for your business, please learn to spell what you do. I would never in a million years hire "panters" to come "pant" my house. Houses don't need pants and I don't like heavy breathers.

Especially if they're reptiles.


*Not the real number. I'm protecting the bad spellers here.

The We Love Morning Club??? These Beetles Are Drinking the Kool-Aid

So, Jake brought home a book from the library at school. This book:

Grasshopper On The Road

In this book, a grasshopper walks down a road (odd, isn't it? You wouldn't guess it from the title...), meeting other insects along the way.

In the second chapter, he meets the beetles. Here I quote:

Grasshopper saw a group of beetles. They were singing and dancing. They were carrying more signs. "Good morning," said Grasshopper.

"Yes", said one of the beetles. "It is a good morning. Every morning is a good morning!" The beetle carried a sign. It said MAKE MINE MORNING.

"This is a meeting of the We Love Morning Club," said the beetle.

What?? What sort of propaganda is this?? My poor child, who knows for sure that Mommy is most definitely an evil Decepticon in the morning, must have been confused. What could possibly be good about the morning?

The beetles continued in their crazed way:

"When does the clover sparkle with dew?" asked a beetle. "In the morning!" cried all the other beetles. "When is the sunshine yellow and new?" asked the beetle. "In the morning!" cried all the other beetles. They turned somersaults and stood on their heads. They danced and sang. "M-O-R-N-I-N-G spells morning!"

So eventually the grasshopper mentions that he likes afternoon and night, too. They kick him out of the club and call him stupid and a dummy.

The We Love Morning Club. Hmmph. Maybe I do believe in banning books after all.

Women's Football! Go Sara Go!

So my friend Sara is getting women's football going in Greensboro again. I'm so excited and proud, and I'm posting a link to the article here.

IWFL Welcomes Carolina Phoenix

And then there's the link to Woody's blog here. He's the best person to keep people updated on the team. Unless of course Sara starts a blog about it...

...right, Sara?

Annie Quigley: The Bean Queen

Annie likes black beans. She wears them as often as she eats them...

Truly, nothing is sacred

I've had family members say to me before, "Now, I don't want to read what I said on your blog!" Or something similar.

Well, it's true: nothing is sacred. If I think it's funny or poignant or cute or just interesting, it just might end up here.

Take this morning for example. (And this is telling on myself more than anyone else.) I have PMS, in that really bad, "Uh oh! Mommy's coming and she's MAD!" kinda way. So...this morning all was not going well.

Without getting into specifics (because it'll just make me look worse), Ike and I were having a little...disagreement. As I left with the kids to take Jake to school, I shouted back toward the bedroom, "I just don't understand why it always has to be my fault!"

Well, I can only think that Ike must have been thinking up a response the entire time I was gone (actually, I'm quite sure he just rolled over and went back to sleep, since he's a man and that's what they do). When I came back, the first thing he said to me (after I apologized...and I almost meant it by then) was,

"I've been thinking about it, and I don't understand why it's always your fault either."

Hardy har har. Taking my words, twisting them, and of course, making fun of me in the process. Well, I never...

(But I would've if I'd had the chance...)

Small, Tender, Southern

Can someone be as kind in describing me as Harris Teeter is in describing their asparagus (on sale this week, $3.29/lb)?

This is the description that printed out with my list:

Asparagus Small, Tender- Peruvian



Yes, these are the things that I think about during the day. The sale on Small, Tender, Peruvian Asparagus...

My personal description?

Short, Jiggly--Southern. On sale this week, .99/lb.

:)

Jiggly Eyelids: A Sign of the Times??

In Kindergarten at Ellijay Elementary School in North Georgia (N. GA is actually its own state. When a person refers to "Georgia peaches," they are talking about South GA. N. GA is known for apples and is a whole different world from its southern counterpart.), I had a boyfriend named Ronald. One day when I complained on the playground that my head hurt, Ronald stomped on my foot as hard as he could.

When I screamed, Ronald said, "Yeah, but you ain't squallin' about yer head no more."

Thanks to Ronald, I learned two things that day:

1. Boys suck.
2. Bad grammar sucks.

Last week I was in the locker room at the gym applying eyeshadow to my eyelids (bear with me here, it relates). When I touched brush to lid, I did a doubletake. Actually, my eyelid did a doubletake. I swear, my eyelid jiggled. You know, like Jello, only without the yummy artificial flavoring. Like it's losing its elasticity and getting...tired...

This is something for which I was totally unprepared. I know that technically I'm almost thirty-two and technically my skin is aging. I've grown accustomed to my hands, which look twice their actual age. I'm ready for chicken neck, which I know will come around fifty. And laugh lines (here already), crow's feet, weird hairs in strange places (don't ask)... But no one anywhere ever said my eyelids would start jiggling.

It's like God took a page from Ronald's (sadistic) book. He's laughing right now and saying,

"Yeah, but you ain't squallin' about yer jiggly thighs no more."

You Need To Update Your Blog...

Look, people, I have a very good excuse for not writing since Christmas Eve.

My dishwasher broke. If you have two small kids and no dishwasher, you know what this means. I have a friend with a 4-year-old, a 2-year-old, and no dishwasher, and she hasn't updated her blog since Dec. 22. And before that it was Dec. 12. Before that, Nov. 11th. So see, I'm doing well to be on here at all. (Sorry to call you out, Jaimie.)

If I am awake, I'm either washing dishes or calculating how long it will be until I can get back to washing the dishes...

But anyway, HAPPY NEW YEAR! We celebrated this year at the children's museum, where they had a "ball drop" and parade at 4pm. Then we woke Jake at 11:30pm to have snacks and watch the real ball drop. At midnight we jumped on bubble wrap (more fun than you might think) and had "kid wine" in our crystal champagne glasses. We partied until about 12:08am, then went to bed.

For my New Year's Resolution, I'm borrowing a suggestion from Ellen Degeneres:

In 2007, I will continue to not smoke.

I've also made another resolution that came about because of two serious situations. First, a friend (whose husband is in the Air Force) told me in December about an acquaintance whose husband was killed in Iraq. She is now a widow with five children.

Then, just last week, I learned that the 5-year-old son of an ex-stepsister (I know, family relations are complicated in the South) has multiple brain tumors. At the last update I got, they were planning to remove at least two...but things are tough for his family right now.

And so, here is my real New Year's Resolution for 2007.

Be thankful every day.

I am so blessed to have two healthy children, a loving husband, and wonderful family and friends. When I get bogged down with bills that can't be paid or laundry that needs to be folded or kids who are crying, I'm trying to stop and remember:

My family has the food, clothing and shelter we need. We are fortunate to have that laundry (and even the dishes!). And I am lucky to be home with those kids.

Happy New Year, all. It's back to the sink for me...