Subtitle: I'm whining again....
Does anyone else use Hello? If not, what? It hasn't been working for me for days now.... And I know you are all dying from lack of a baby-picture fix. I had a great fish picture to post for Susie... it is a bASS. And, of course, I wanted to get in on the 4-legged Friday picture post....
I swear, I'm actually fairly technologically intellectual.... but this is kicking my ass.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Another thing about duct tape.
(Stolen from some comedian….)
Duct tape… it’s like The Force.
Light on one side.
Dark on the other.
And it is what holds the Universe together.
Duct tape… it’s like The Force.
Light on one side.
Dark on the other.
And it is what holds the Universe together.
The Creed
If it moves and it shouldn’t… use duct tape.
If it should move and it doesn’t… use WD-40.
That’s all you need to know.
My brother said this but I’m sure he stole it from someone…..
If it should move and it doesn’t… use WD-40.
That’s all you need to know.
My brother said this but I’m sure he stole it from someone…..
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Because my husband says I shouldn’t give advice….
I know, I know, you shouldn’t give baby advice. But I can’t help it. I just think I am so Damn Clever for having survived the first 10+ months of this experience. I must. I must.
1. Make goals, and I mean big personal goals, for the time after your delivery. Here is my list: Take a shower every day (even if it is 9:00 pm before it gets done). Put on real clothes & tennis shoes every day (ok, this was a white t-shirt, grey athletic shorts & my trusty Solomons… but it still counts). Make the bed (ok, this won’t happen every day but maybe 3 times a week). Brush your teeth at least once a day.
2. Get a clear shower curtain. You can shower & watch the baby in the bouncy seat/bassinette at the same time. Besides, it lets in more light so you don’t hack your legs apart speed-shaving.
3. When people give you advice, nod, smile and do whatever you were planning to do anyway.
4. Don’t be afraid to change your mind about anything. Parenting style, breastfeeding, daycare, diaper brands…. Anything.
5. Ask for specific help.
6. Don’t be afraid to bribe your family. “If you empty the dishwasher I will let you hold the baby…”
7. Take lots of pictures.
8. Start a daily calendar. I wish I had done this the minute I found out I was pregnant. I never got around to working very hard on the baby book (yet!) but I wrote down a lot of little things on a desk calendar & it is so fun to look back.
9. Ask for food as a shower gift. One of the nicest gifts I got was a lovely lasagna, bread & salad a few days after the baby was born. Fed the swarming masses of family & comforted me.
10. Take a take-out menu to labor and delivery. When we left the hospital we headed straight home and sent the family to Staggering Ox to get food. This gave us a few minutes at home as a “family” and it provided our first meal post-hospital without too much stress.
11. “What To Expect When You Are Expecting” is crap. Some of what they say is good general information but any book that says, “There is no place in the pregnant woman’s diet for soda.” And “To reward yourself, have a small bagel.” Is just plain WRONG. I don’t even like soda and that line made me want a Big Gulp. And rewards…. Reward is when I eat the WHOLE pan of brownies instead of just the half-pan that is my usual diet. Hah!
12. Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.
13. Use a sling & Robeez shoes… even if it shocks the boot-n-belt-buckle portion of your family…. It is just breaking them in for when you whip out your tit during “Fear Factor” and start singing “Beep, beep… here comes the nipple bus.” (Ok, I stole the Beep, beep phrase from Brain, Child magazine…. But ya’ll know what I’m talking about… everyone has some form of the “Shitty Pants” song in their repertoire.)
1. Make goals, and I mean big personal goals, for the time after your delivery. Here is my list: Take a shower every day (even if it is 9:00 pm before it gets done). Put on real clothes & tennis shoes every day (ok, this was a white t-shirt, grey athletic shorts & my trusty Solomons… but it still counts). Make the bed (ok, this won’t happen every day but maybe 3 times a week). Brush your teeth at least once a day.
2. Get a clear shower curtain. You can shower & watch the baby in the bouncy seat/bassinette at the same time. Besides, it lets in more light so you don’t hack your legs apart speed-shaving.
3. When people give you advice, nod, smile and do whatever you were planning to do anyway.
4. Don’t be afraid to change your mind about anything. Parenting style, breastfeeding, daycare, diaper brands…. Anything.
5. Ask for specific help.
6. Don’t be afraid to bribe your family. “If you empty the dishwasher I will let you hold the baby…”
7. Take lots of pictures.
8. Start a daily calendar. I wish I had done this the minute I found out I was pregnant. I never got around to working very hard on the baby book (yet!) but I wrote down a lot of little things on a desk calendar & it is so fun to look back.
9. Ask for food as a shower gift. One of the nicest gifts I got was a lovely lasagna, bread & salad a few days after the baby was born. Fed the swarming masses of family & comforted me.
10. Take a take-out menu to labor and delivery. When we left the hospital we headed straight home and sent the family to Staggering Ox to get food. This gave us a few minutes at home as a “family” and it provided our first meal post-hospital without too much stress.
11. “What To Expect When You Are Expecting” is crap. Some of what they say is good general information but any book that says, “There is no place in the pregnant woman’s diet for soda.” And “To reward yourself, have a small bagel.” Is just plain WRONG. I don’t even like soda and that line made me want a Big Gulp. And rewards…. Reward is when I eat the WHOLE pan of brownies instead of just the half-pan that is my usual diet. Hah!
12. Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.
13. Use a sling & Robeez shoes… even if it shocks the boot-n-belt-buckle portion of your family…. It is just breaking them in for when you whip out your tit during “Fear Factor” and start singing “Beep, beep… here comes the nipple bus.” (Ok, I stole the Beep, beep phrase from Brain, Child magazine…. But ya’ll know what I’m talking about… everyone has some form of the “Shitty Pants” song in their repertoire.)
The Three
There seem to be three distinct blogging categories I am trying to fit into… not very successfully, I might add. The first group is the Montana bloggers. They post about some serious topics…. Politics, farm subsidies, wolves. They are passionate and eloquent. To them…. I offer “Gross Farm Topics.” It is the best I can do. The second group is the Mommy bloggers. They post humorous and sometimes desperate entries about the day-to-day challenges of parenthood. For them, I offer several posts about and pictures of Sweet Boy… he isn’t perfect, but he is close. The third group is what I will refer to as the Hip bloggers. These are sharp, witty, sarcastic and sometimes thoughtful posters that I have (mostly) discovered through comments on Dooce.com and links from other blogger sites. Some are controversial, some are funny and a few really need to learn the difference between “your” and “you’re” but they all have something to say.
Oh, and, of course, the most important “group” I forgot to mention… my brother & sister. Several posts I have written have elicited a fury of email from one or both of them…. Particularly the post when I offered to sell my brother on Ebay. After much discussion, the offer still stands. Anybody want him? He’s very handy, pretty funny, not too ugly & he comes with two horses (Sonata & Rowdy), a pickup (Copper), a snowmobile (Zoom-oh-Shit), a horse trailer (that doesn’t have a name?) & two barn cats (Yowler & Whiney). Make me an offer.
Oh, and, of course, the most important “group” I forgot to mention… my brother & sister. Several posts I have written have elicited a fury of email from one or both of them…. Particularly the post when I offered to sell my brother on Ebay. After much discussion, the offer still stands. Anybody want him? He’s very handy, pretty funny, not too ugly & he comes with two horses (Sonata & Rowdy), a pickup (Copper), a snowmobile (Zoom-oh-Shit), a horse trailer (that doesn’t have a name?) & two barn cats (Yowler & Whiney). Make me an offer.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
URTHEIS
What does that mean? URTHEIS. I saw it on a license plate this morning. Even now, a cup of coffee later, I don’t get it. I like personalized plates that I can understand… and if I can’t understand it I like some directions nearby. Really, it’s about the only time I truly appreciate bumper stickers. UROLGST accompanied by a bumper sticker that says “Peeing is Fun.”
Help me out here people…. What is URTHEIS?
Help me out here people…. What is URTHEIS?
I’m not a bumper sticker person.
I do enjoy the occasional bumper sticker (the favorite one here is “Cows, not Condos”) and, perhaps, at some point in my past, I may have even enjoyed “stealthing” a bumper sticker onto someone’s vehicle as some form of vigilante justice but, generally speaking, I don’t like to broadcast my preferences so prominently… call me sneaky, I don’t know.
My father-in-law? He’s a bumper sticker guy. He has several that give you a fairly good, but limited, understanding of him as a person. A part of me likes that sort of brief summation of a person but another part of me prefers to remain undefined by my rear… the rear of my car, that is…
I worked (in a previous life) in the, um, martial arts industry and there was considerable pressure to put a bumper sticker on my car declaring this fact. There is no quicker way to get your ass kicked outside a bar than to have a “I heart martial arts” bumper sticker on your car. Seriously. Think about it. I would want to kick my own ass for that… black belt or not. (Now, if I had a “keep honking, I’m reloading” sticker next to it the story might end differently….)
This brings me (ok, it doesn’t “bring” me but I’m going there anyway) to another point. The Yellow Ribbon. I was so dim as to think they were just a Montana thing. They aren’t. My husband has one on the Dodge with the name of his buddy on it. It looks nice. It is red-white-blue and helps me pick his rig out from the 47,000 other white Dodge pickups in this town. It shows his support.
I don’t have a ribbon on my car. A (uniform-wearin’) fella hassled me in the parking lot at the fair grounds last fall trying to get me to buy one for $5. One, I was there to visit the duck pond and didn’t have $5 with me… just a bag of stale bread. Two, at that time people had been stealing them off cars on a regular basis. Three, I didn’t WANT one. The end. Leave me alone you camouflage-wearing nut case. Do not stand in the parking lot hurling insults at me & my infant because we aren’t supporting the military… you don’t know what we support or how we choose to support it…. We support the National Guard via Doritos (more on that later). It is just not good form to verbally assault new mommies. So by now those of you who know me will know that I will NEVER have a ribbon on my car. I don’t respond well to bullies… no matter what I think of their cause. Don’t try to boss me around buddy. That is all.
My father-in-law? He’s a bumper sticker guy. He has several that give you a fairly good, but limited, understanding of him as a person. A part of me likes that sort of brief summation of a person but another part of me prefers to remain undefined by my rear… the rear of my car, that is…
I worked (in a previous life) in the, um, martial arts industry and there was considerable pressure to put a bumper sticker on my car declaring this fact. There is no quicker way to get your ass kicked outside a bar than to have a “I heart martial arts” bumper sticker on your car. Seriously. Think about it. I would want to kick my own ass for that… black belt or not. (Now, if I had a “keep honking, I’m reloading” sticker next to it the story might end differently….)
This brings me (ok, it doesn’t “bring” me but I’m going there anyway) to another point. The Yellow Ribbon. I was so dim as to think they were just a Montana thing. They aren’t. My husband has one on the Dodge with the name of his buddy on it. It looks nice. It is red-white-blue and helps me pick his rig out from the 47,000 other white Dodge pickups in this town. It shows his support.
I don’t have a ribbon on my car. A (uniform-wearin’) fella hassled me in the parking lot at the fair grounds last fall trying to get me to buy one for $5. One, I was there to visit the duck pond and didn’t have $5 with me… just a bag of stale bread. Two, at that time people had been stealing them off cars on a regular basis. Three, I didn’t WANT one. The end. Leave me alone you camouflage-wearing nut case. Do not stand in the parking lot hurling insults at me & my infant because we aren’t supporting the military… you don’t know what we support or how we choose to support it…. We support the National Guard via Doritos (more on that later). It is just not good form to verbally assault new mommies. So by now those of you who know me will know that I will NEVER have a ribbon on my car. I don’t respond well to bullies… no matter what I think of their cause. Don’t try to boss me around buddy. That is all.
The Weather Report
My tulips? They are under about ten inches of snow this morning. Yup. Just rain in town. Power went out four times but was back on this morning. My mother-in-law was at my house fixing her hair… their power is still out. The school bus was in the ditch…. Bad. I’m pretty sure if the driver could see how bad it was she would have crapped. Rear tire up in the air…. Leanin’ on a fence. Tip over material. I stopped and talked to her for a minute… asked if I could bring her a cup of coffee or something. I love springtime in Montana.
Go Rodeo.
I promised rodeo pictures…. So here ya go. Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera settings correct for this shot. (Oh, that makes it sound like I actually KNOW what camera settings I should have used when we all know the truth. I have no idea how to use anything but “automatic” on my camera.) It is hard to take pictures of barrel racing because, well, I don’t have a fancy camera with no delay… so I kinda have to guess where she’s going to be in 2 seconds and point it there and when the whole run takes less than 15 seconds…. You see the problem.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Gross farm topics
Ok, so I told a story about my grandpa hanging BACON on an ELECTRIFIED WIRE in Closet Metro’s comments section. But you have to understand that I grew up on a farm/ranch with a veterinarian father.
I once took pickled baby kittens for show & tell in the second grade. My dad spayed a cat that was pregnant (he didn’t know) and put the kittens in a baby food jar for me to show my friends. Later, in high school, this same project (with preserved horse nuts) prevented me from having a date for 2 ½ years. My mom even had t-shirts made about it for my sister & me…. “Hey guys, My dad is a vet & he castrates STUDS.” Something like that.
My dad often compares food products to animal diseases and by-products. Red jello salad, for example, looks like biopsied dead cow lungs. And sour cream is frighteningly similar to a cancer-eye abscess.
When my sister was 12 she did a very accurate explanation of a cow’s circulatory system using a dead cow, 2 sticks & a piece of garden hose. All went well until she got into a tug-o-war with the dog over the stomach.
I was the only person who could eat a roast beef sandwich DURING cadaver lab. (Cadavers remind me of dried apples.)
We used to walk barefoot to the horse barn.
My brother called placenta “plazooka” and it is a common joke at our house to respond to the question of “What’s for dinner” with “plazooka sandwiches.” (Imagine my horror when I found out some people do, indeed, eat the placenta of their offspring… stir-fried, with a hint of garlic.)
I once took pickled baby kittens for show & tell in the second grade. My dad spayed a cat that was pregnant (he didn’t know) and put the kittens in a baby food jar for me to show my friends. Later, in high school, this same project (with preserved horse nuts) prevented me from having a date for 2 ½ years. My mom even had t-shirts made about it for my sister & me…. “Hey guys, My dad is a vet & he castrates STUDS.” Something like that.
My dad often compares food products to animal diseases and by-products. Red jello salad, for example, looks like biopsied dead cow lungs. And sour cream is frighteningly similar to a cancer-eye abscess.
When my sister was 12 she did a very accurate explanation of a cow’s circulatory system using a dead cow, 2 sticks & a piece of garden hose. All went well until she got into a tug-o-war with the dog over the stomach.
I was the only person who could eat a roast beef sandwich DURING cadaver lab. (Cadavers remind me of dried apples.)
We used to walk barefoot to the horse barn.
My brother called placenta “plazooka” and it is a common joke at our house to respond to the question of “What’s for dinner” with “plazooka sandwiches.” (Imagine my horror when I found out some people do, indeed, eat the placenta of their offspring… stir-fried, with a hint of garlic.)
In which I call my son's gall bladder puny....
Have I mentioned how much Sweet Boy likes sticks? He really likes sticks. There. I’m pretty laid back about most things (Who am I kidding? That is a lie.), but I live in fear that he will impale a major organ on one of these sticks. I mean a Major Organ…. Not his appendix or his spleen or his puny little gall bladder (it is so tiny I don’t think he could impale it if he tried… but don’t give him any ideas). So his Poppa provided the solution…. A piece of garden hose. Brilliant. Now he can fall on it without risking injury to his eyes (I know, eyes aren’t organs, I have a degree in this shit). Yeah, who needs that fancy swing set anyway?? Other mothers worry about their kids getting dirty or eating properly…. I just give my kid a piece of garden hose and tell him to have fun and be safe out there.
I wish
I wish my boob had a gauge on it...... Nothing too complicated.....2 ounce increments would be fine.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Project Jumbo Closet
Subtitle: How to have a really good time for $5.
Project Jumbo Closet is nearing completion. Let me explain. The “new” house has two bedrooms and very, very limited closet space. Apparently it was perfectly acceptable to NOT HAVE STORAGE in 1897. So I need a place to store my books. My holiday decorations. (‘Cause ya’ll have SEEN the hideous Easter montage from previous posts and you know I need a place to keep my pastel eggs in the off-season.) The two twin beds that make up the booger-bunks. (More on that later.) The baby gear & maternity clothes & empty baby-gear-in-use boxes. The husband’s “important” papers. That kind of stuff. You know. Stuff.
Enter Bright Idea. I decided to turn the Feed Shed (one of those small barn-like structures) into a Jumbo Closet. I cleaned it out. Lots of donkey treats, salt, random bits of leather, a few bear traps (I can’t make this shit up) & some big 55 gallon drums.
Then I got out the spray foam sealant. I think I have a repair products fetish. I get so happy. This stuff goes on in a little gooey foam spurt (reminiscent of an ex I had) but then it swells and swells (no longer reminiscent of said ex). I stuffed the cracks, crannies & crevices with steel wool to keep out the mice and then foamed away.
Ta-da. Closetus Readyius. Perfection. I really, really wish I had taken “before” pictures but this will have to suffice.
Project Jumbo Closet is nearing completion. Let me explain. The “new” house has two bedrooms and very, very limited closet space. Apparently it was perfectly acceptable to NOT HAVE STORAGE in 1897. So I need a place to store my books. My holiday decorations. (‘Cause ya’ll have SEEN the hideous Easter montage from previous posts and you know I need a place to keep my pastel eggs in the off-season.) The two twin beds that make up the booger-bunks. (More on that later.) The baby gear & maternity clothes & empty baby-gear-in-use boxes. The husband’s “important” papers. That kind of stuff. You know. Stuff.
Enter Bright Idea. I decided to turn the Feed Shed (one of those small barn-like structures) into a Jumbo Closet. I cleaned it out. Lots of donkey treats, salt, random bits of leather, a few bear traps (I can’t make this shit up) & some big 55 gallon drums.
Then I got out the spray foam sealant. I think I have a repair products fetish. I get so happy. This stuff goes on in a little gooey foam spurt (reminiscent of an ex I had) but then it swells and swells (no longer reminiscent of said ex). I stuffed the cracks, crannies & crevices with steel wool to keep out the mice and then foamed away.
Ta-da. Closetus Readyius. Perfection. I really, really wish I had taken “before” pictures but this will have to suffice.
The bad news.
Well, the Redneck reared her ugly head again… in spite of my best intentions.
1. While I will be attending the symphony later this month, the next cultural event on my agenda is the college rodeo on Saturday night. I’ll try to provide pictures.
2. My son is too small for Montessori. His daycare lady has chickens. He loves chickens. And she tells me his favorite activity is playing in the dirt with a stick. The boy is gonna grow up and have a job with his name on his shirt…. I just know it.
3. I wore my fabulous scarf to work this week but my current attire has the word “Wrangler” on the ass.
4. Bud Lite & Tequila…. Again.
5. Oh, I can’t watch PBS because we only get ONE CHANNEL on our tv.
6. I did manage a little pasta with some fancy cheese & artichokes for dinner but tonight it is all about chili and cornbread…. I’ll post more when the noxious cloud clears….
1. While I will be attending the symphony later this month, the next cultural event on my agenda is the college rodeo on Saturday night. I’ll try to provide pictures.
2. My son is too small for Montessori. His daycare lady has chickens. He loves chickens. And she tells me his favorite activity is playing in the dirt with a stick. The boy is gonna grow up and have a job with his name on his shirt…. I just know it.
3. I wore my fabulous scarf to work this week but my current attire has the word “Wrangler” on the ass.
4. Bud Lite & Tequila…. Again.
5. Oh, I can’t watch PBS because we only get ONE CHANNEL on our tv.
6. I did manage a little pasta with some fancy cheese & artichokes for dinner but tonight it is all about chili and cornbread…. I’ll post more when the noxious cloud clears….
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