tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87941762011-04-21T21:08:42.678-04:00Raising Kid, Writing Stories, and Renovating the Housesuzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.comBlogger1411100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1150215891111888672006-06-13T12:24:00.000-04:002006-06-13T12:24:51.126-04:00

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1124158640639540292005-08-15T22:16:00.000-04:002005-08-15T22:17:20.646-04:00

New blog: Blessed and Mundane Please bear with me while I try to figure out how to move my blogroll. And maybe some archives.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1123797500654951502005-08-11T18:02:00.000-04:002005-08-12T12:02:47.736-04:00

100. I'm not telling you what my real name is. 99. Although I suspect it wouldn't be hard to figure out. 98. I'm a writer, a mom, a spouse, and a feminist 97. in no particular order. 96. Even though most days I feel like the writer and the feminist have gone into shock and are hiding underneath the desk sucking their thumbs and whimpering 95. And the spouse and mom just want to get some sleep,

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1123377916559947092005-08-10T17:45:00.000-04:002005-08-11T16:48:51.996-04:00

Look, Mad, I know you think that mobility is the be-all and end-all, but we are just not ready yet. So please hold off a while. You can already roll and wriggle to wherever you want to go. Stop trying so hard. You're scaring me. You'd be scaring your dad, too, but he's not home with you all day. He's not trying to steam-clean the floors right off the subfloors because he saw you give one a lick.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1123556533614645052005-08-08T23:02:00.000-04:002005-08-08T23:04:10.190-04:00

Her current favorite song is a sea shanty. Her favorite verses involved shaving bellies with rusted razors and throwing in the hole with the captain's daughter. Oh, dear.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1123556502184754442005-08-08T22:56:00.000-04:002005-08-08T23:01:42.193-04:00

The exterior of my house is painted. The porches have been replaced, saving the original columns. I feel like I have a new house. Once we get the yard cleaned up (our laziness, not contractor's mess: they were very neat, and I have been passing out their number left and right) and some green things planted we'll be in good shape. Outside, at least. I'm actually considering designing our own

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1123283117704063212005-08-05T19:01:00.000-04:002005-08-05T19:05:17.710-04:00

Ms Mad has taken to letting us know she is in need of a new diaper by ripping open the velcro on her diaper covers. Naturally we believe this to be evidence of astounding intelligence. But then, this is the same kid that forgets every last one of the shiny, noisy, carefully-designed Baby Einstein exersaucer toys the second I hand her my (empty) plastic juice bottle. So who knows.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1123128996830496372005-08-04T00:16:00.000-04:002005-08-04T00:16:36.836-04:00

DO NOT LET THE CHILD GRAB THE BOWL.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1123077150955181702005-08-03T09:50:00.000-04:002005-08-03T09:52:30.963-04:00

Siding: painted Trim: painted Back porch: 2/3 complete, missing part of deck and railing Front porch: columns painted. It's starting to look like more like a house and less like a shack.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1122585742524172792005-07-28T17:18:00.000-04:002005-07-28T17:22:22.530-04:00

There has been much amusement in this house as of late as we try to find appropriate substitute curses for me. My first word was "dammit." And I'll remind you that I was raised in a family of horse traders, truck drivers, construction workers and waitresses: I can outswear a sailor any day. J thinks that perhaps this is not appropriate for Miss M. I have to agree with him. I found one, though.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1122503564248635862005-07-27T18:26:00.000-04:002005-07-27T18:32:44.260-04:00

Madelynn has decided that shoving her hand into her mouth is the funniest thing ever. I like that she's easily entertained. I love hearing her laugh. It is often deep and raspy (like her cousin) and has an evil genius tone to it. She has also decided that the best way to tell me she's done eating is to bite. Hard. I strongly preferred her previous method, which was to just let go. She's not even

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1122340493831986342005-07-25T21:03:00.000-04:002005-07-25T21:14:53.843-04:00

It is 9pm. My baby's asleep. Last night she slept for six straight hours. This has only happened three times before in her life. J and I actually watched a whole movie together, uninterrupted, for the first time since about halfway through my pregnancy. (I lost the ability to sit still for more that ten minutes somewhere around my fifth month.) We watched The Station Agent. It was quite good.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1122086858379538152005-07-22T22:42:00.000-04:002005-07-22T22:47:38.386-04:00

I am sitting in the living room when J shouts down from the nursery that I need to come up right now. I panic, of course, and bolt up the stairs. Halfway up, I hear a belly laugh. Hers. Great, big, body-shaking guffaws. The kind that make your ribs hurt if they go on too long. She sounds like the shrunken-head version of her dad. Oh, the cuteness. How did he get this reaction? He picked up a

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1121968049000709182005-07-21T13:34:00.000-04:002005-07-21T16:33:27.296-04:00

While filling out a questionaire for a mailing list this morning I realized that I am not currently, for probably the first time since the age of six, in the middle of reading anything. Six months ago I was usually deep into a half dozen books at a time. After thinking for a bit, I discovered that I am somewhat stymied by a sudden lack of direction, so I thought I'd ask for suggestions. Please

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1121833948193331372005-07-20T00:30:00.000-04:002005-07-20T00:32:28.200-04:00

Couldn't sleep. Wrote 1200 words in 45 minutes. Many of 'em are good ones, even. New short story on the way. I feel better.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1121801405476626772005-07-19T15:21:00.000-04:002005-07-19T15:30:05.483-04:00

Today, I cleaned up crap in every room in the house except the bedroom. Oh, yes, the big cat went on one of his protest strikes where he does not use the litter box for a few days and then he uses the floor- or all of the floors- instead. (Vacation + baby = angry cat.) This time accompanied by hairball surprise. Those of you with cats know that hairball surprise differs from the usual hairball

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1121661867758919812005-07-18T15:22:00.000-04:002005-07-19T15:31:29.996-04:00

I typed the title of this post and then stared at it for twenty minutes. And then I stared at you for another twenty. You're sleeping curled up on your side, lower arm out straight and upper arm over your considerable belly. Your eyelids are fluttering and your lips twitch every few seconds: you are dreaming. You dreamed the very first time you slept. I was watching you then, too. You're a

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1121121966257742202005-07-17T23:45:00.000-04:002005-07-17T23:44:40.556-04:00

1. Travelling is much easier with baby wipes readily accessible. I will continue to travel with wipes long after Madelynn has outgrown them. 2. J's frequent flier perks are almost worth the travelling he does. It totally goes against my anti-establishment little heart, but the no lines, separate security gates and first-on-board stuff kinda kicks ass. 3. Even when parents try to sequester

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1121232442897859622005-07-13T01:21:00.000-04:002005-07-13T01:27:22.903-04:00

I gave up tonight. After two hours of being pinched between the wriggler and her restless-sleeper dad, I realized this baby-in-the-bed business no longer worked for me. As the co-sleeper has never worked for her- she hates the mattress- that left the crib. So I put her in her crib and spent two hours alternately rocking and nursing and singing to her. She is now fast asleep, by herself, in her

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1119411678096575442005-07-12T10:44:00.000-04:002005-07-12T10:43:35.523-04:00

We have had, over the years, some seriously bad luck with neighbors. Our first apartment was two floors above a crazy man who used to stand in his doorway clutching a chef's knife and yell threats up the stairs at us. He had frequent tantrums over imagined events in the building. We moved out after he threatened J in the grocery store on a Tuesday and followed friends of ours home on the

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1120776083690676342005-07-07T18:39:00.000-04:002005-07-07T18:41:23.690-04:00

I know how you feel. I know "I'm sorry" doesn't make anyone feel better but is still kind of good to hear. Hang in there. I'll be thinking of you.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1120595909419936782005-07-05T16:27:00.000-04:002005-07-05T16:42:29.820-04:00

If I had known Colorado existed I would have gone there as soon as I was able: to hell with college and a career in the city. I would have run to the mountains instead of to Simon's Rock. The wedding was lovely, the visit with family was refreshing and educational and so reassuring. It was our first conversation with real-live parents who have done this recently (they have a five year old) and

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1120076906546293012005-06-29T16:25:00.000-04:002005-06-29T16:28:26.553-04:00

So I am trying to pack for four days in Colorado and a week in LA. (Yes, I know, poor baby.) We screwed up and planned to be in Denver when the wedding is actually six hours south... no problem! We like car trips! (Well, we tolerate them.) We could have flown but not for less than a grand apiece and we would have had to transfer at either LA or Phoenix. That's from Denver, not NYC. This is all

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1119755157477422802005-06-25T22:57:00.000-04:002005-06-25T23:06:08.340-04:00

Trips to the salon are good for the soul. As are stylists unafraid of thinning shears. I'm told my hair color is a combination of "coffee" and "brownie" which suits me just fine. Still with platinum and copper streaks. Tee hee. My head is striped. I'm actually starting to look a little like stripey cat. My kid has been replaced by a shrieking pterodactyl with a severe drool problem and a foot

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1119583777008805512005-06-23T23:17:00.000-04:002005-06-23T23:29:37.016-04:00

1. Regular ped on vacation. 2. Usual back-up also on vacation. 3. Subbing doc is old-school ped: full of "I'm the boss" attitude and resentful of questions. Clearly thought we were making things up. Only saw "one little white spot" when actually, her tongue is COVERED IN BIG WHITE SPOTS. 4. My kid has thrush. 5. I, while symptomless, probably have it as well. My nipples itch thinking about it. 6.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1119497007727314472005-06-22T23:09:00.000-04:002005-06-22T23:23:27.733-04:00

The writing is not going well. I quit my critiquing groups a few weeks ago. I wasn't able to participate regularly (as a reader or a writer) and I don't like to give half-assed responses. (I don't like getting them, either.) The reasoning at the time was that I was using the little bit of writing time that I had on other people's work and not getting any of my own words out. Except now I'm not

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1119305233429264122005-06-20T17:47:00.000-04:002005-06-20T18:07:13.436-04:00

We went away for the weekend. It was nice. I am exhausted. I should be napping, like the little one in the yellow onesie here. I would be napping, if I was smarter than I am. I think, sometimes, that I miss living where I grew up. In reality, I miss my grandparents and I miss having horses. I miss watching the sun come up as I walk to the barn. I miss reeking of horse and sawdust and hay. I miss

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1118167043723645162005-06-10T15:20:00.000-04:002005-06-10T15:21:07.330-04:00

Well, kid, we knew this was coming. I put you down on the changing table a few days ago, one hand lightly resting on your belly, the other reaching up into the bag for a new diaper. In the time it took to move that hand on your belly to your ankles, you flipped over. I'm still not sure which one of us was more surprised. I flipped you back, put on the new diaper, and hugged you so hard you

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1118176901884055922005-06-07T16:40:00.000-04:002005-06-07T16:41:41.890-04:00

This was in the New York Times today. I got the email about the nurse-in too late to get there. This is ridiculous. I confess to having felt a little uneasy about Madelynn's nursing in public. I am not one to react well to unwanted attention. Thanks very much to the handful of moms that have approached me and told me to not be afraid to nurse in public, that have offered me comfy chairs to

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1117493967791008232005-05-31T15:39:00.000-04:002005-05-31T15:38:34.736-04:00

Sweetisu asked me these questions because I asked to be interviewed. If you'd like me to interview you, leave a comment and I'll post your questions in a few days. These are the rules: 1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me." 2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different. 3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1116885176026579432005-05-23T17:39:00.000-04:002005-05-23T17:52:56.033-04:00

- Twenty minutes (or, so help me, a whole hour) would seem like forever. Time enough to get something (anything not involving diapers or my breasts) done. -That I would be relieved and excited at the chance to get some cleaning done during said time. (In my defense: J's whole family coming to visit this weekend, house knee-deep in boxes and bags because we are still totally buried under the

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1116736686037434442005-05-22T00:33:00.000-04:002005-05-22T00:38:06.043-04:00

New hair goes a long way toward improving one's mood. Specifically, much thinned and colored new hair. I'd forgotten how much I loved the smell of dye, and how much I liked copper and platinum streaks. I have found a stylist I like, one who is not afraid of drastic changes and bright color. Woot.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1115930723499216462005-05-12T16:44:00.000-04:002005-05-12T16:45:23.503-04:00

That after four straight days of seven hours of sleep with one diaper change and one feeding in the middle I am so much more exhausted than I was when we were up every forty-five minutes?

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1115668707382678932005-05-10T22:15:00.000-04:002005-05-10T22:15:02.990-04:00

Dear Madelynn, You are now two months old. A week ago you started repeating sounds we made for you. Your favorite word, at the moment, is "guh!" and you say it with gusto and a big gummy grin. When we say it back to you, you get so excited that you kick and flail your arms and squeak. We wear each other out with the noises and the flailing: your dad eventually picks you up and lets you calm

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1115507813231143752005-05-09T19:12:00.000-04:002005-05-10T17:54:20.123-04:00

First: I am light-years behind on my email. I'm sorry, I'm working on it, I promise to get back to you soon. Second: THE CONTRACTOR SHOWED UP, REPAIRED THE DAMAGED SIDING, AND IS RETURNING THIS WEEK TO START THE SERIOUS STUFF. I am almost over the irritation of having to spend a WHOLE FREAKING YEAR looking for a fair, reasonable and reliable contractor. They're still *calling when they say they

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1115386908850578702005-05-06T09:29:00.000-04:002005-05-07T19:19:03.793-04:00

Seven Reasons Why Yesterday Was Awesome: 1. Contractor showed up with wood samples for decking, we went over final details, I handed over paint chips (his comment: "That's very red" Oh yes indeed! I like red houses!) and I added the back porch onto the project. Total cost of all exterior work: less than a third of what I'd anticipated, in half the time, even if it costs 30% and takes 50% longer

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1114478161436703672005-04-26T16:47:00.000-04:002005-04-27T17:00:25.143-04:00

I had a conversation with my sister the other day in which we both admitted to seriously considering breast reductions. She was surprised that I (Crazy Feminist Tree Hugger Vegetarian Weirdo, as my family thinks of me) I would ever think of surgically altering my body. I was surprised that she'd finally developed the ability to say "breast"; I guess the days when I could make her turn purple with

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1114028770907997862005-04-20T16:25:00.000-04:002005-04-20T16:26:10.910-04:00

A new acquaintance of ours referred us to a baby gadget catalog (see title). As if J didn't have enough in the way of gadget catalogs. What does Madelynn need with more GADGETS? I thought the swing, the SUV-sized stroller (that we've used three times, because we all prefer the slings), the five hundred talking stuffed creatures, the monitors, and the singing plastic things were enough. No.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1113931713175179932005-04-19T13:30:00.000-04:002005-04-19T13:28:33.176-04:00

Tomorrow is our third wedding anniversary. That sounds so weird. J and I were friends through our college years, and started dating somewhat haphazardly a few months after graduating and moving to NYC. I say haphazardly because while we both entertained the notion for some time, we were both a little ambivalent about getting involved with a good friend, and also both talented at getting our

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1113877844376667032005-04-18T22:25:00.000-04:002005-04-18T22:30:44.376-04:00

your five-week-old tries to spit up and breath at the same time and starts to choke. Really choke, as in can't make noise and starts to turn colors. I flipped her over and patted her hard, and she was fine. J came home from the errand running and found me shaking and half-crazed curled up around a chirrupy, happy baby. At one point I think I told him he wasn't allowed to leave her side anymore,

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1113507459720614932005-04-14T15:30:00.000-04:002005-04-14T15:45:54.613-04:00

J had lunch at the diner without me last week. And somehow it came up with the owner that I write. She's terribly impressed and fascinated and excited by that idea. I'm embarassed, because it's been years since I actually published something, and months since I even sat down and seriously worked on anything. I feel like a fraud. At the same time, I'm grateful: J still takes it seriously, even

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1113503347819381722005-04-14T14:28:00.000-04:002005-04-14T14:29:07.820-04:00

I keep writing posts and blogger keeps eating them. And I am too damn tired to retype any of it, so... But M's sleeping in the swing. I so totally bow to the fisher price gods, as now my back gets to rest for one nap a day, and I can do things like laundry without worrying I'll drop her from the sling. J comes home tonight. While we had a couple of rough nights- one lost post was about my new,

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1113433441579012412005-04-13T18:58:00.000-04:002005-04-13T19:05:59.543-04:00

Really. Every four or five days, we have a night where nobody sleeps. No explanation for the hours of wiggly, uncomfortable and unhappy (and sometimes, but not necessarily screaming) baby. Eventually she falls asleep and spends most of the next day and night sleeping, except to eat. She even sleeps through those awful diaper changes that she hates so much. Last night- my first night alone, as

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1112825800102074122005-04-06T18:17:00.000-04:002005-04-06T18:16:40.103-04:00

Until today, M had only cried when something obvious- diaper, hunger, gas- needed fixing. Oh, and the two times she screamed bloody murder when we dressed her in clothes she didn't like, which was also quickly discovered and fixed. So we've never had more than a ten-minute cry while some air worked its way through the belly. Really. You with the colicky babies feel free to kick my ass now. This

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1112735303244390612005-04-05T17:08:00.000-04:002005-04-05T17:08:23.246-04:00

For the last month my days have largely revolved around the feeding and elimination schedule of someone only able to communicate by screaming. And let me tell you, she can poop. She gets this satisfied little expression and coos at the Wipes container. It is her first friend. She only coos at inanimate objects. Possibly because the animate objects in the house are kissing her all the time and

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1111085276172717342005-03-18T22:56:00.000-05:002005-03-18T22:56:26.533-05:00

Dear Madelynn, This has been the most overwhelming and exhilarating week of my life. Labor was 16 hours from first contraction to you curling up on my belly, and for a good five hours of that I didn't even feel the contractions. I thought labor had stopped. The ob was shocked when she discovered I was dilated to 5 and having contractions at my checkup: "You're in labor! Go to the hospital!" The

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1110997052964388852005-03-16T13:17:00.000-05:002005-03-16T13:20:53.803-05:00

This... Posted by Hello

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1110996984734541392005-03-16T13:16:00.001-05:002005-03-16T13:20:12.050-05:00

...and this. Posted by Hello

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1110814968009568962005-03-14T10:42:00.000-05:002005-03-14T10:44:50.220-05:00

Madelynn Irene, 3/10/05 9:07 pm Posted by Hello

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1110313286522234542005-03-08T15:17:00.000-05:002005-03-08T15:21:26.523-05:00

No progress to report. But I am listening to an album called "Daddy-O-Daddy: Rare Family Songs of Woodie Guthrie" and oh boy am I enjoying it. Come on out, kid. My steam-cleaner arrived today. I'm way, way too excited about it.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1110223031048329382005-03-07T14:17:00.000-05:002005-03-07T14:17:11.050-05:00

I'll be pregnant for another two weeks at most. That's so weird. Stretch's clothes are washed and put away. Diapers and accessories stashed in kid's room, bedroom, and living room. The house almost clean; I've accepted that it will never quite seem clean enough. (I came to that conclusion while scrubbing out the bathtub for the third time in two weeks: I do sometimes recognize when I'm being a

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1110075503827893952005-03-05T21:18:00.000-05:002005-03-05T21:18:23.826-05:00

Guest bed: delivered today. Assembled in less than five minutes, after spending an hour or two trying to make it much more complicated than it needed to be. I was grumpy and mean at J, who is not handy and felt terrible about being not handy when I, the handy one, am only just able to bend over and put things together. I got frustrated and swore a lot. Fortunately he is a forgiving sort. Charles

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1109886421869414282005-03-03T16:45:00.000-05:002005-03-03T16:47:01.870-05:00

See last week's progress report. Any day now. Oddly enough, I think I am least anxious for this kid to come out and play. I have felt better in the last two weeks of this pregnancy than at any point before it. I am a little sad at the thought of not being pregnant anymore. What if I am better at being pregnant than I am at being a parent? J is most anxious, though. He is so ready to be Dad

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1109533603636486382005-02-27T14:46:00.000-05:002005-02-27T14:46:43.636-05:00

My lovely friends arranged a shower for us yesterday. We had a wonderful time. The uber-geeks got to fuss and compare digital cameras -we are still in the honeymoon phase with the 20D. I say we, though I have not gotten to take it out and try its paces, as it HASN'T LEFT J'S HANDS SINCE WE BOUGHT IT. I am fine with this, as I've been And he's taken some lovely photos, and done some documentary

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1109370382306082272005-02-25T17:26:00.000-05:002005-02-25T17:27:04.176-05:00

On the phone with my sister last night: Sis: I just feel so bad about not spending more time with them. E. hardly knows who I am. Me: That's crap, and you know it. You're doing fine. I can hear him giggling at you. (This kid has a giggle like no other. And when his sister joins in I am paralyzed listening to them.) Sis: Mom says A.'s issues the last few weeks are because I'm ignoring her. Me:

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1109279007753821792005-02-24T16:03:00.000-05:002005-02-24T16:03:27.826-05:00

Bad News: woke this morning to email that much-beloved family friend suffered from a massive stroke yesterday. Trying to be hopeful and calm in the absense of details and updates, but outlook appears not good. We are sending all hopeful and loving thoughts their way. Good News: 38 wk check-up: We are definitely getting close, as in I'm starting to dilate and Stretch is engaged. J met the main

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1109094135861936612005-02-22T12:42:00.000-05:002005-02-22T12:42:15.863-05:00

1. the contractor SHOWED UP. 2. His references CHECK OUT. 3. His prices? TOTALLY REASONABLE. 4. His schedule? OPEN. As in, he can start whenever I say "okay, start." I think I am going to hyperventilate, now. Back to nesting.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1108995481351184302005-02-21T10:11:00.000-05:002005-02-21T10:11:08.036-05:00

There's a terrific topic over at Chez Miscarriage this morning. It's something that has been on my mind a lot since I became pregnant, more and more so as the due date approaches. I had lunch, last fall, with J's grandmothers. They were both newly informed of my pregnancy and very, very excited. First great-grandkid, and all, and while they never pressured us they'd been growing impatient. (Us,

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1108992099339358042005-02-21T08:21:00.000-05:002005-02-21T08:21:39.340-05:00

The cats are rattling the food dishes around and staring meaningfully at me. I tried to tell them that I was invoking the old college rule of "It's not tomorrow if I haven't slept yet" but they are not buying it. I did not sleep for so much as five minutes last night. I was having contractions, which seemed like they might be going somewhere. This has gone from scary to exciting, thanks to the

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1108975640662443512005-02-21T03:45:00.000-05:002005-02-21T03:47:20.663-05:00

Rest in peace.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1108939837892173322005-02-20T17:50:00.000-05:002005-02-20T17:50:37.893-05:00

Thank you, nice lady who came to my rescue when I couldn't find a quarter, even though I had pockets full of change. I hate it when stores require those deposits to get a freaking shopping cart, too, and I always forget to make sure I've got a quarter handy. In other news: thanks to a monster-sized shopping run, we are now covered for the newborn basics, and food staples. Stretch can come

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1108665569047720372005-02-17T13:35:00.000-05:002005-02-17T13:39:29.050-05:00

All's well. Heart rate in the 150s, blood pressure normal. No unnecessary internal checks. The hospital bags are packed. I have a guest room to finish and a dining room table to uncover, and a lot of furniture to polish. Oh, and floor pillows to sew. But I think I'll take a nap first, since I only got a few hours last night, thanks to discomfort and bad dreams.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1108581671832496712005-02-16T14:21:00.000-05:002005-02-16T14:21:11.836-05:00

I am washing diapers and careening around mood swings as I try to clean the house. I'm washing diapers. To pack them in the hospital bag. With all the other stuff that needs to go with us for the birth. When we go. Which could be soon. No, I'm not in labor. But as of today, I am 37 weeks. Full term. I had not allowed myself to think about this, much. I have spent much of my pregnancy holding

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1108486867072726002005-02-15T14:33:00.000-05:002005-02-15T14:32:39.673-05:00

We don't, generally, celebrate Valentine's Day. We are not much for Hallmarking holidays, really, unless we know that they are important to the peope we love, and then we try. I think that the only time we actually went out for V-Day was at the insistance of another coupe who wanted to double date. We were an hour late because we got... um... distracted before going out. They forgave us. It was

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1108486560109711062005-02-15T11:53:00.000-05:002005-02-15T11:56:00.110-05:00

USE THE DAMN POT HOLDERS, YOU MORON. -this note typed with one hand as many fingers on the other are wrapped in band-aids.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1107901318822318302005-02-09T12:11:00.000-05:002005-02-10T00:10:29.323-05:00

I met Friend Z in college. I count her among the handful of life-long friendships I have. I am a long time forming attachments, and a long time breaking them. We have been friends for nearly half of my life, now, and there is so much ancient history that it is hard to find the place where problems started. It sounds strange coming from someone who cut her parents out of her life, but I don't let

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1107733006111149672005-02-06T18:36:00.000-05:002005-02-06T18:36:46.110-05:00

We assembled the crib. Incredibly enough, J did most of it as I am having hard time with the bending and twisting these days. He's actually good at this stuff, for all that I've never seen a hammer in his hand before yesterday. And we toured the maternity ward at the hospital, guided by two lovely nurses who let us hear the kid's heartbeat and assured us, over and over, that they were there

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1107620245921052462005-02-05T11:17:00.000-05:002005-02-05T11:17:25.920-05:00

If the husband is spending his Saturday cleaning and organizing the house, you DO NOT get to tell him how to do it, no matter how much it may drive you crazy, no matter how much you are feeling like the most pregnant OCD girl ever. So shut up and go take a shower already. Geesh.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1107561304021402962005-02-04T18:54:00.000-05:002005-02-04T18:55:04.020-05:00

It's a step, even if it's a small one: http://www.poughkeepsiejournal.com/today/frontpage/update.shtml

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1107547432747724842005-02-04T15:02:00.000-05:002005-02-04T15:03:52.746-05:00

If you are making lunch, and say to yourself, "OK, now I'll go fold laundry until the timer goes off," make sure you set the timer. Damn it.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1107519643754814822005-02-04T09:24:00.000-05:002005-02-04T09:24:59.533-05:00

We have two cats, both rescues, both insane in their own charming ways. We live in a neighborhood with a healthy stray population, thanks to a couple of diligent and well-run (and usually full to capacity) local animal sanctuaries and a couple of people who maintain stray colonies. If not for J's cat allergies, I would still be the crazy cat lady at the end of the block. I have been known

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1107376258830421912005-02-02T15:37:00.000-05:002005-02-02T15:36:55.293-05:00

Nursery furniture: still in the car. J has been working all daylight hours and not yet tapped our friends to help move it up the stairs. I am not feeling patient. House: still in disgraceful state of disarray, likely to remain so until new furniture arrives. For every item I freecycle or toss or whatever, another box of gifts arrive. This is awesome, and sweet, and I am grateful to J's mom and

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1107275108613451832005-02-01T11:24:00.000-05:002005-02-01T11:25:08.613-05:00

She is sleeping in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, a few inches from the china cabinet. She smacks the cabinet with a sudden violent tail twitch, and then stands up and gives the cabinet a Look of Death for getting in her way. So much attitude in such a little package. Now I am getting the Look of Death for giggling at her.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1107054965654150472005-01-29T22:15:00.000-05:002005-01-29T22:16:05.653-05:00

Hour and a half to Ikea road trip to buy baby furniture: done. We discovered that Jersey plates are indeed a sure sign of a bad driver, that the crowds of people in Ikea still scream at their very small children for being bored in a furniture store (shocking!) and that the back seat of the car folds down. We discovered that last bit after discovering that the measurements listed for the

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106777386734307422005-01-26T17:09:00.000-05:002005-01-26T17:09:46.733-05:00

So, um. I got an email from J's Grandma, politely inquiring whether we were planning on having more babies. Adding that she is hoping for more. This is not the first time a family member- and many friends- have hinted that we are expected to produce more than one child. My grandfather has loudly expressed disappointment that we are not having twins: he dislikes the waiting period, I guess.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106708791727605652005-01-25T22:02:00.000-05:002005-01-25T22:06:31.726-05:00

Suggest that I have the hospital bags packed, just in case. or Start a birth story with "My water broke six weeks before my due date."

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106680034903329832005-01-25T15:53:00.000-05:002005-01-25T15:53:32.630-05:00

I spent a few hours last evening flipping through some of the five thousand pages of "informative" material that has come into the house over the last eight months. And wow, did it piss me off. Here's what I found: Piles of shiny booklets from toy companies that try to convince me that my kid's brain needs the newest dangly things in order to develop properly. The implication is that I

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106619172353315052005-01-24T21:12:00.000-05:002005-01-24T21:12:52.353-05:00

This new game of yours is unacceptable. You are a Very Large Cat. When people approach the front door, look in the window and see your mad yellow eyes and big wiggling ass, they get (understandably) nervous. Running up to the door and popping up to peer out the window does not reassure anyone. I know you are only playing, but you nearly gave that postman a heart attack. It is bad enough that

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106457674670954052005-01-23T00:19:00.000-05:002005-01-23T00:21:14.670-05:00

Unless this is your first ever winter here, you should be expecting one of these storms from time to time. Get over it. Unless you live 10 miles outside of town (hard to do around here) you won't be snowed in for more than one or two days AT MOST. Buying 10 gallons of milk, 16 loaves of bread, and 3 cases of beer is excessive. Well, maybe not the beer. Unless you live in a cave and never

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106426207135862022005-01-22T15:34:00.000-05:002005-01-22T15:36:47.136-05:00

OK, so I spent some time on a post and some profile changes, and lost them all when I hit the wrong key and closed the window. (I am fabulously fumble-fingered these days.) I try to retrieve changes and long post, to no avail. I give up, grumbling. Today, I post, and voila!! yesterday's changes all show up, suddenly. I'm not complaining, exactly. It's just... odd.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106425667642152982005-01-22T15:27:00.000-05:002005-01-22T15:27:47.643-05:00

No buying Thumper's furniture today. See what I mean about every household-related task I try to complete being interrupted or delayed? _Every_ time. We're having a snow storm. It's currently coming down at about two inches every hour and a half. I refuse to drive in bad weather. I actually pay attention to weather reports and try to schedule things around having to drive in bad weather. I

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106338708376044582005-01-21T15:17:00.000-05:002005-01-21T15:18:28.376-05:00

This post says it well. I confess to not having a very open mind about this one. I am the product of an unwanted pregnancy. Had abortion been readily available and without social stigma, I would not be here. I am keenly aware of that. Two teenagers that had never been told about or given access to contraception had sex, got pregnant, panicked, got married and were miserable for a very long

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106331001418242382005-01-21T13:10:00.000-05:002005-01-21T13:10:01.420-05:00

Party shuffle: Ring of Fire- Social Distortion You Had Time (live) -Ani DiFranco Annabelle- Gillian Welch American Idiot- Green Day Angels- Tori Amos Big Blue Sea- Bob Schneider Good Day- Dresden Dolls You know, I think the IPod loves me back. I finished a short story revision this week. I have one more read-through to go before I send it out to the crit group. There are some

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106252923468959212005-01-20T15:28:00.000-05:002005-01-20T15:28:43.466-05:00

Sis: ... I just feel like every time I'm there my parenting choices are being questioned and criticized. I hate that. It's obnoxious. Me: I know. I'm sorry. Be patient. She thinks she's trying to help. Sis: You know, you're going to regret using cloth diapers instead of disposables. It's so much harder. I don't know what you're thinking. Me: . . .

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106171747651052752005-01-19T16:56:00.000-05:002005-01-19T17:14:05.890-05:00

A good friend of mine asked us if we thought having my in-laws stay with us for a few weeks after Thumper arrives was really a good idea. And I thought about it, a lot, because this person has been a good friend to us for as long as we've known each other, and because she is often able to see things in ways that don't necessarily occur to me. If we were talking about my family, I'd say visits

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1106085888649026352005-01-18T17:05:00.000-05:002005-01-18T17:04:48.650-05:00

Baby measures average for age, is head down. Everything looks good, nothing to worry about. I am still mesmerized by how perfect the spine looks on an ultrasound: just exactly like a spine. I mean, we could count the little vertebrae and everything. Most things look like vague light shapes on a dark background. Also, four chambers in the heart and kidneys and bladder and brain all correct size

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105926605138303352005-01-16T20:49:00.000-05:002005-01-16T20:50:05.140-05:00

So, partway through the Return of the King I get a sugar craving and wander into the kitchen. Nothing dessert-like immediately at hand, but we've got baking chocolate. A-ha! I say. I need brownies. And then I read the directions, and decide I am not really interested in directions more complicated than "Eat chocolate things." "J," I say, "Do you want to make brownies with me?" And J, who

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105892264865815422005-01-16T11:17:00.000-05:002005-01-16T11:17:44.866-05:00

There's this weird thing about counting down to birth: unless you've got a scheduled c-section planned, you don't know how far you're counting. I've counted the weeks rather than months, because I can't figure out how they get nine months out of forty weeks. (Some of the books and websites just drop a few weeks sometime during the second trimester. And some give the count in gestational weeks

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105764491113285012005-01-14T23:47:00.000-05:002005-01-14T23:48:11.113-05:00

Jazz (the big cat) is not very good at being sneaky. Quick background: this is the cat that purrs to himself all the time. He also purrs when he's sleeping. These are things, as many experts have told me, that Cats Do Not Do. But he does them. He has the sort of purr you can hear from the next room. The cats are not allowed in our bedroom. J is allergic, but can tolerate the cats as long as

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105737733841134492005-01-14T16:22:00.000-05:002005-01-14T16:22:13.843-05:00

It finally sunk in today that lots and lots of books and sites and midwives suggest listening to music as a relaxation technique for labor. And I have a shiny new IPod. And I can make MIXES. This is already a good way to not think about the pain.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105679526733623982005-01-14T00:11:00.000-05:002005-01-14T00:12:06.733-05:00

I go to the post office today to buy a book of stamps. I like to get funny ones, usually- our last set was of bats, and was creepy-neat. But today, the helpful postal worker* only had flags and this and I was taken aback. I asked for the flag, thinking that 1)hello, the Madonna and Child seems inappropriate for a postage stamp and 2)why are there no bats? But then I heard the woman standing in

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105644202895874672005-01-13T14:23:00.000-05:002005-01-14T19:22:43.353-05:00

I have a thing about stuff. It is not so much a must-acquire-more thing as it is a deep reluctance to get rid of what I have. I hold on to things far past any real usefulness because of a concern that they might be useful later. And I hate to just throw away things that are still useful somewhere, because I do believe in recycling and reuse as much as possible. But there's a lot of stuff

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105583803053125692005-01-12T21:36:00.000-05:002005-01-12T21:37:37.496-05:00

Argh. I have been buried in papers all day. When we moved here from our last apartment, things were not good. We left the apartment in a hurry because our landlords had refused to repair extensive water damage from broken gutters (long story) and the building had developed a serious mold problem. And I, with my allergies, developed sinus and lung infections that took six months to kill off.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105549979119665692005-01-12T12:12:00.000-05:002005-01-12T12:12:59.120-05:00

Someone shovelled our sidewalk this morning. And cleaned off the car. The most touching part about this, really, is that it could have been any one of a number of my neighbors. And it's not the first time for the walk and the driveway, although it is a first for the car. I love living here.

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105510152569179922005-01-12T01:09:00.000-05:002005-01-12T01:09:12.570-05:00

Blood pressure: fine. Heart rate: fine, after Thumper cooperated and turned a little toward the doppler so we could hear properly. (This was after a few thwacks bounced the thing off: this is so my kid.) Weight gain: fine. Measurements: far ahead of due date. Ultrasound next week to determine if I am having a giant baby, have too much fluid, or if kid is just hanging out in such a way as to throw

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105459096084590562005-01-11T10:58:00.000-05:002005-01-11T10:58:16.086-05:00

A: How's my new cousin? Me: Remember when E. was in your mom's belly and kicked a lot? Like that. A: Neat. Can I play with him? Me: Not for a few more months yet, honey. A: But can't she come out now? Me: No, if your cousin came out now, it'd be very tiny and probably very sick. It's better to wait until the baby is ready to come out. A: Maybe if my brother is big enough for my

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105393206521530372005-01-10T16:39:00.000-05:002005-01-10T16:40:06.520-05:00

I've been listening to Bob Schneider. Am smitten. Apparently, I needed an IPod to jumpstart the music collection. We watched Shawn of the Dead and Garden State last night. The first was laugh-til-you-weep funny for the first 45 minutes, and then just good. I love fun, smart monster movies. And it's not that I've lost all tolerance for violence depicted onscreen, it's that I've lost all

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105379141699045192005-01-10T12:45:00.000-05:002005-01-10T12:45:41.700-05:00

We still need to get the crib. Other than that, the baby's room is actually starting to look like a baby's room... the non-kid stuff has been removed, Nat and I painted the room almost a year ago, I've put up the new curtains, the kids books and toys are there. The rocking chair is still down in the living room, because I haven't yet asked J to move it upstairs. But I think next weekend we

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105241343489724812005-01-08T21:34:00.000-05:002005-01-09T12:05:02.363-05:00

Yesteray, all day long. You would think that spending a full day discussing childbirth would make me tired of the subject, but oh no. All my attention is firmly focussed on my uterus, and will remain so for a couple of months. It was a good class, run by a doula/nurse/lactation consultant. I was surprised by how much I knew, and am reassured that my research into things meets up with what my

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794176.post-1105137808002849882005-01-07T17:46:00.000-05:002005-01-07T17:43:28.003-05:00

1. Spend an hour in the mechanic's waiting room while all other waiting customers are told things like "It's worse than we thought. We need to replace X,Y, and Z." and "We can't get the part until Tuesday, and it's going to cost a lot more because hose B needs to be replaced, too" and "Well, we thought it was just a belt but turns out you need a new transmission." And my favorite: "I don't know

suzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14410440204764215370noreply@blogger.com0