30 November 2006

Day Thirty - Meme's the word (haha...ha...h..a..)

Day Thirty! The conclusion of the NaBloPoMo phenomenon of aught six. Been tagged with a meme. My meme cherry's been popped! Um. So.

Sasha threw this to me.

The rules...
Each player of this game starts with the "6 Weird Things about You".
People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says 'you are tagged' in their comments and tell them to read your blog!"

And we begin! On with the weird things.

1) I HATE whipped cream. Hate. It. Never understood why anyone would want to ingest something that tastes like nothing, yet is chock full o' calories. What a waste. When there is so much chocolate in the world to be consumed. Now THAT is a productive collection of calories.

2) I "file" my socks in my sock drawer, by color.

The purpose of this method is to see ALL my socks when I open my drawer, and select a pair quickly and efficiently. All the black ones? I worked in downtown SF, people. Go ahead and laugh. I know it's weird. My friend Meigan says it's the Virgo rising in me. I have to agree. I could do a separate meme on "Traits that make you a Virgo rising". Another time, perhaps.

3) Hi, my name is Eva and I am addicted to houseplants. [Hi, Eva!] I have twenty-three houseplants in our little house. I would have more, but I've run out of horizontal space for them. Yes, I could hang them from the ceiling, but we're in a rental, and I've hung plants incorrectly before, only to create a gaping, cavernous hole where a ceiling once was. Oops. There's a store ten miles away that has THE BEST collection of houseplants for sale on this side of the Mississippi (I've always wanted to use that phrase). I have to restrain myself from going there once a week to just take them all home with me.

4) I l-o-v-e LOVE the smell of new shower curtains. And gasoline. But shower curtains more.

5) I ate pizza almost every day for six months. You know how some people say that their favorite food is pizza, and that they could eat it every day and never get sick of it? It's true! At least for me. I was living in Tahoe, working as a children's ski instructor in Squaw Valley. The season had a very late start, and I was out of money, having no snow and no work and all. I took on a night job delivering pizza in Truckee. I soon found out that we were allowed to eat all the pizza we wanted, providing we didn't use any of the pizza boxes. We counted those at the end of each night to match up with pizza sales, or something. So, being poor and hungry (insert sad violin here), I made myself a small pizza every night I had a shift. Yum. Never got tired of it. Nope. Good thing I was burning off the pizza-fatty in me by climbing up and down snowy mountains, picking up fallen and/or crying kids.

6) And finally: It took me fifteen years to graduate college. Not because of financial hardships or anything respectable like that. Being an idiot, I turned down an offer to CU Boulder out of high school. I went to Cal State Long Beach instead, where most of my friends went, as a journalism major. That lasted a year. Then worked for a while. Then back to school at Long Beach City College with a change in academic focus to math and science. Then transferred to Cal Poly Pomona as an Electrical Engineering major. Two years of that, disliked the competition (as if school isn't hard enough), dropped out of school for more work. Tutored math, moved to Tahoe, moved to SF, got job as accountant. Found that night school (University of Phoenix) was a possibility, enrolled as an Accounting major, finally graduated in 2002. Fifteen years, people. Why is this weird, you ask? Because if you knew me, you'd know I'm a pretty together, organized, smart and motivated person. You'd think I would have gotten my shit together to finish up sooner.

Okay, time for tagging! I don't have any close friends with blogs, so I'll have to tag some peeps that I've commented on/have been commented on recently:

Sari
ECR
Lynanne
Miss Owl

And, how sad that I can only come up with four. Optimistic thought: A year from now, I do have six blogger friends that I can tag. :)

29 November 2006

Day Twenty-Nine - "Borrowing" an idea

Stole this idea from Sasha:

-----In A Word-----

Yourself: mother
Your partner: giving
Your hair: highlighted
Your Mother: human
Your Father: admired
Your Favorite Item: cheeks
Your dream last night: unmemorable
Your Favorite Drink: Orangina
Your Dream Car: 911
Your Dream Home: beachfront
The Room You Are In: living
Your Ex: Clueless
Your fear: loss
Where you Want to be in Ten Years? content
Who you hung out with last night: husband
What You’re Not: judgemental
Muffins: poppyseed
One of Your Wish List Items: confidence
Time: relative
The Last Thing You Did: pampering
What You Are Wearing: black
Your favorite weather: balmy
Your Favorite Book: Heinlein
Last thing you ate: Almonds
Your Life: Blessed
Your mood: Happy
Your Best Friend: husband
What are you thinking about right now: Bras
Your car: Golf
What are you doing at the moment: couching
Your summer: adventurous
Relationship status: mawwied
What is on your TV: netflix
What is the weather like: brrrrrrrrr
When is the last time you laughed: six-thirty

28 November 2006

Day Twenty-Eight - Bad Mommy

My hubby's holiday work dinner was tonight. It was a feast of carnivorous proportions, at Ruth's Chris steakhouse. I apologize to all you veggies and vegans out there, but DAMN do they know how to cook a piece of meat.

It was our first outing without leaving the Boog in a grandmommy's care. Our neighbor, Sally (who is a part-time nanny) watched him. May I remind you that the Boog is 7.5 months old. I thought I was so ready to leave him in a non-relative's care. It has been Rob who has balked at the idea of leaving him with a babysitter "so soon". Guess what? I ached for the little guy before we even reached the restaurant. You'll get no apologies from me, though. I'm a first-time mom. Nyah.

To my credit, I DID wait a whole hour before calling her to check in.

So by now you are probably wondering what the title of today's post has to do with any of this. And no, I didn't empty the wine cellar's stock. We don't drink. I drank three cokes and a cup of coffee. It's no wonder I'm still up, tending to my poor son after he nursed from my caffeinated milk supply. Bad Mommy.

...and you thought this was going to be a slightly interesting post, huh? Suckers!



Dude, I have no idea how to be remotely interesting at 11:22pm. This proves it.

27 November 2006

Day Twenty-Seven - Holidailies

I must be on some damn good drugs, cuz I signed up for Holidailies last night.

The freak perfectionist in me is so UPSET that I missed posting for NaBloPoMo on Thanksgiving and the Saturday following. So upset, in fact, that a tiny part of me wishes I never went to our families for the holiday. Man, I need help.

But second chances are never far away, are they? I will try again. The cool thing is that Holidailies allows for holiday business and that means you only have to post 20 of the 31 days, if I read the rules correctly. Which means that when we go back down to SoCal again for Christmas, I'm off the hook if I miss a day or two.

Jesus, this is a boring post. If this was Sasha's site, it would be labeled "boring shit". Thankfully, I am not alone in this state. I noticed that quite a few peeps are losing steam. Three more days! I vow to post three riveting posts for the remaining days of November. I'm off to brainstorm some ideas.

Meanwhile, here's a cute picture of my little butterball:

26 November 2006

Day Twenty-Six - Lovin' You With My _______

When Rob and I fell in love (awww...) we began a long series of inside jokes and phrases that I'm guessing most couples have. One of those phrases is "I'm loving you with my [insert noun here]."

It all started with our drives about town or wherever. I would sit in the passenger seat and stare at his cute mug for such a long time that it became creepy were we not in love. He would finally notice, laugh, and ask me what I was doing. And I'd tell him: I am loving you with my eyes. This exchange would also occur if I was driving, but stopped at a light or in traffic or something.

As most inside jokes evolve, so did ours. I would look at him across the living room, peering over our laptops and give him a long, toothy grin. He'd say, "Awww, you're loving me with your teeth."

So now, of course, it has spilled over into our poor unsuspecting child's catalog of phrases that are spoken on his behalf. Do any of you do that? Speak on your baby's behalf in an otherwise annoying voice, like he's the one doing the talking? This also applies to pets. I'm assuming the answer is yes.

Anyhoo.

The Boog, not being able to talk yet, speaks though us. Rob and I are constantly calling "not it" on the less-than-desireable diaper changes. The "poopy pants", as we call them. So to make them less revolting, we've started making them as cute as possible. Hence: "Awww, he's loving you with his poop."

Happy "Our First Kiss Anniversary", Rob. I'm loving you with my heart.

24 November 2006

Day Twenty-Four - Boog Stew



We made some stew out of the turkey stock and sauteed Boog today. Yum.

23 November 2006

Day Twenty-Three - Skidoo

Well, due to the unfortunate incident of my husband's wireless not working last night, I was unable to post. So I guess I'm out of the running for any sort of prize, but HEY! Doesn't mean I'm stopping. I'm no quitter, no sirree!

So Happy Thanksgiving everyone! We're still in Southern California for another three days, so I'll be trying to post every day. Thanks for rooting for me, guys.

Off to stuff myself! I got my fat pants on! :)

21 November 2006

Day Twenty-one - Thanks!

I am so loving youse guys right now. Thanks for the helpful advice on yesterday's post and motivation to keep at it! So far today, the score is:

Boobies: 3
Boog fangs: 0

Woo hoo!

Now if I can figure out how to post every day while we're in Southern California (yes - gasp - BEHIND THE ORANGE CURTAIN!!!) for the gorging holiday, I'll be set!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. There is so very much to be thankful for this year.

20 November 2006

Day Twenty - Posting Again Today/I Should Really Save This For Tomorrow/Oh Well

Okay, time to put the capital M in Mommy blog:

The Boog got his first tooth two weeks ago. Two days ago, he started the super-fun game of "Bite Mommy's Nipple While I Eat". For the love of all that is holy, that f-ing hurts.

I've done the whole startle him by screaming OW! thing.

I've done the mash his face into my boob so that he can't breathe and therefore opens his mouth thing.

Both of these work fairly well in the moment, but don't seem to be teaching him anything. Should I be patient, and keep at it for a while? I'm terrified of nursing now. He always bites me towards the end, so maybe I can pull him away before he seems finished? I wanted to nurse for another 5 months at least. This blows. I'm so sad about all this.

HELP!

Day Twenty - Nerdtest (or) Nerdfest

NerdTests.com User Test: The Trekkie Test.

Day Twenty - Finally, no worries about the Boog's safety

I am so relieved.

19 November 2006

Day Nineteen - On The Seventh Day...

...Eva rested.

Here's a video of my son again. What's he doing, do you ask? Why, he's giggling again, of course. (My apologies to those of you without children who simply do not understand the OCD of parents with video capabilities.)

18 November 2006

Day Eighteen - Not a lazy post like the last one.

I am feeling pretty darn cool right now. And I'm giving a big shout out to Sari, because it is all her doing.

You see, I'm new to this blogging thing. Like my site description (or whatever it's called) says, I'm a long time lurker, first time blogger. I started lurking with the queen of them all, Dooce, about two and a half years ago, coincidentally, right after Leta was born. A friend was ripe with child, and had just read Heather's birth story, and sent me the link. I was so entertained that I began reading her archives. And then I started reading others too. I thought it was so cool that they all seemed to know eachother, that they visited them when in town, that they were all brilliant writers who were on panels and round table discussions and such. And the supportive readers with witty insights and comments. I even envied them.

I commented on a particularly funny post one day after probably a year of lurking. That broke the seal, and I felt more comfortable to comment every so often, here and there. I always felt a little self-conscious of the fact that I didn't have a blog of my own to link to in my comments.

I started one in January. I posted once. Something like, "Okay here goes. I'm trying to blog. Let's all pray together that I can be witty on a regular basis, blah, blah, blah.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzz." Snoresville. I deleted the blog.

Late October of this year: Mrs. Kennedy comes up with NaBloPoMo and I'm all, "Hey! Here's my chance to really give this a go!" And then I'm all, "My husband's the writer in the family, not me. I don't know if this would work." And then I was all, "I'm going to try my best. I'm fairly funny sometimes. Perhaps it would show in my writing." So I started this site. And then! I got comments! Someone was reading my stuff! Awesome! I think. What if mean people start reading and post mean comments? I put that out of my mind. No sense being all negative.

So the people that comment have found me through the Randomizer, I am assuming. I do the same thing! They've been so nice and I go to their site and read their posts, and they're funny or touching, and I comment too.

So I visit their sites daily now because I feel like they're kind of new friends somehow. And GUESS WHAT? Sari has me on her margin in the list of sites she's "rooting for" in NaBloPoMo. I'm in someone's margin! It's like getting the new phone books all over again!

Thanks for making my day, Sari. I hope your trip to see Father Christmas (get it?) is wonderful and safe.

Day Eighteen - Lazy Post #1

I don't know why, but this one made me giggle.



So did this one:



Thanks, Mrs. K, for pointing me there.

17 November 2006

Day Seventeen - Fussy Friday

No, not Fussy. Fussy, like baby fussy. The Boog and I were kind of cooped up today with the prospect of rain. We tried and failed to acquire a rain guard for the stroller on Wednesday. Sold out at the store. Bummer. I was too chicken to go out without it.

A cooped-up Boog is a fussy Boog. We played the "move Boog from Activity A to B to C to D and back to A, all in 20 minute intervals" game for the majority of the day. His marathon naps at 9am and 12:30pm lasted 15 minutes and 20 minutes, respectively. We finally braved the outdoors, to the delight of us both, and met some of the moms from our group at a cafe a couple blocks away. Thinking I would get a break from Fussy Boog, I grabbed a paper and a coffee and took a seat, waiting for the other moms to arrive with their boogs. He sat beside my chair in his stroller, quietly occupying himself with Mr. Carrot. For about fifteen seconds. Then he discovered that if he screamed! at the top of his lungs! it echoed in the high ceilings of the cafe. Super! This is fun, being the parent of the screaming baby in the cafe. I wondered to myself what kind of parent I would be if he ends up being the tantrum-throwing toddler in the department store a couple years from now.

Mom #1 shows up and the Boog greets her with a hearty squawk. Ditto for Mom #2 and 3. Then more squawking. I imagine that most people in the cafe are thinking to themselves, "Can't she shut that kid up?"

The Boog is in my lap at this point, as I frantically attempt to distract him with toys. Each new toy produces an excited squawk. In my desperation, I hand him my cell phone (something I, as a new mom, had on my list of "not for Boog" items). Another emphatic squawk. I remove all toys and cell phone from his sight. He proceeds to arch his back and attempt to slide off my lap and down my legs to the floor. Like I'm going to let that happen. What exactly did he think he would accomplish on the floor? He can't crawl yet, and there was nothing but table and chair legs on the floor. Silly Boog. More arching. A whine. I try nursing him for a bit. He's too interested in everything BUT the boob. I bounce him up and down in my lap. I hold him over my head in spaceship fashion. He smiles and sticks his tongue out at me. A long stream of drool spills out of his mouth where it has been collecting for the past half hour, onto my face below.

At least the squawking stopped. I sit him next to Mom#3's baby and they examine each other's ears in exquisite detail. The Boog grabs her ear and locks his tiny hand in a fist. Ow. We separate the babies. Mom#1 calls it a day and leaves in order to put her boog down for a nap. Mom#2's hubby shows up and they leave for a restaurant. Mom#3 and I pack up our stuff and leave with our strollers. The Boog stops fussing. We walk home.

This is where I remind you, Reader, that I am not a writer, I am an accountant and now also a new mom. The reason I remind you of this is because I have no way to humorously end this story. We got home, I put him in his highchair while I did some dishes and sang Old MacDonald to him while he fussed some more. Sheesh. At least he went down for the night with no protesting.

Happy Friday everyone!

16 November 2006

Day Sixteen - Netflix-a-go-go

Today I am giving props to Netflix. Thanks to this marvelous machine of movie mailings, being a breastfeeding mother is never a lonely thing. Don't get me wrong; I adore the bonding experience that nursing provides me and my son. But he eats often, and after counting any new eyelashes and playing thumb wars with him for the first few minutes, I start looking around for something to multi-task. Old habits die hard, you know? After ten years of "wearing many hats" in a small office?

But I digress. Netflix. DVDs of TV shows are actually a favorite in this household. Several episodes on a disc, no commercials, and the availability of a series that you may never have had, in the past, the chance in which to invest your time. For me, it started with Buffy. Then Angel. Then Alias. Then Rob moved in, and we had "weekends of sloth", watching an entire season of 24 in the course of two days. I've heard of people that are even more hard-core than that, watching a season in 24 hours. Dude! That requires some teamwork. Someone to get snacks, coordinating bathroom breaks, phoning in a pizza delivery? I'd like to talk with someone who has done that, out of mere curiosity for logistics.

When I got pregnant, we knew (yet it remained unspoken) that our weekends of sloth would be coming to an end. We actually were already weaning ourselves, going down to only a "day of sloth" on weekends, with the other day reserved for laundry, Costco trips, errands, and fresh air. And the occasional social event. We sound like shut-ins, but we like to call ourselves "homebodies". Now that I'm a stay-at-home-mom, I am always hoping for weekends packed with activities AWAY from the house, and poor Rob just wants to sit in a comfy chair with his laptop and relax in his castle. I say "poor" Rob because I usually get my way, and I end up dragging him on this errand and that car ride.

Digressing yet again. The Boog was born. He slept a lot. To our delight, our days of sloth continued! Hooray! We began the Star Trek Voyager series. Watched the entire seven (?) seasons over the course of a couple of months. We could hang out at home, the Boog would attach himself to me every hour or two, snuggle up in my arms and go back to sleep.

Fast-forward to present day. The Boog just turned seven months old. He's sitting up on his own, and probably crawling within a month. The days of sloth are basically over. It was good while it lasted. I now get "minutes of sloth" while he's nursing, and then? After he has been put to bed? We are able to begin Star Trek Deep Space Nine. I think there are seven seasons of that as well, if memory serves. We should be done with the series by the year 2010.

15 November 2006

Day Fifteen - Why the Boog is a Boog



Woo hoo! Halfway to NaBloPoMo success! I am having such a good time. And the Randomizer? Because of that awesome piece of technology, I am reading so much great stuff and meeting other bloggers via the comment sections! Okay, on to today's subject.

Sari asked me why I call my son Boog. Sweet! Something to write about on day fifteen!

To answer your question, we've called him Boog since he was in my belly. It started as "Bree", short for embryo. Then when he became a fetus, we changed it to Cletus, cause it rhymes with fetus, but that didn't stick. Maybe because of this.

Rob started calling him a booger when he started waking me up in the middle of the night with the kicking and the pushing on the bladder, which also woke Rob up. Not the kicking and the bladder stuff, but me getting up to pee and jostling the bed.

This term, booger, was shortened to Boog somewhere during the course of the pregnancy. After he was born, we found that Boog was an appropriate and easy pet name for him. Over time, several variations on the name evolved:

Mister Boog (used most often)
Herr Boogenschtein
Das Boog
Boogie
Boog-a-boog

Oh, and it's pronounced with the o's like in "good", not "tool". Just a little FYI.

The End.

UPDATE: After reading this to Rob, he requested that I list some of the Boog's songs that we sing to him involving the word Boog, Boogie, etc:

Boogie Fever, by The Sylvers
Boogie Nights, by Heat Wave
Little Deuce Coupe, by The Beach Boys (we changed the lyrics to suit us on this one as follows: He's a boog-a-boog boog, he's a boogidy boog...)

14 November 2006

Day Fourteen - Memory

I had a memory today that hadn't crossed my mind in quite some time. And when I had the memory, earlier today, I made a mental note to write about it as today's post.

Now that the Boog has been put to bed, and we're winding down for the day, I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME REMEMBER WHAT THE MEMORY WAS. Is that irony? Or just idiocy?

You decide!

13 November 2006

Day Thirteen - Tags


The Boog turned seven months. It's all about the tags today. We've been going stir crazy, stuck inside with the rain outside. Good thing there's tags to be investigated. What do people do with babies when it's raining? Since they can't color or bake, I'm out of ideas.

On another note, a car alarm was going off for TWO HOURS this afternoon. Don't alarms have some sort of auto shut off thingie? What an annoying feature. Is it bad to want to smash something on their car to make the alarm feel like it's doing its job?

12 November 2006

Day Twelve - Day Trippin'

We went to visit friends in Sacramento today. We were three hours late. Here's why! The Boog was being a total Boog last night, awake every freakin' two hours. He's been demoted from 7-month old to 2-month old. I was a zombie this morning. Capital Z - O - M - BEEEEEE. My angelic hubby took him away after the morning feed and let me sleep for three hours! All by myself! With earplugs! I woke up at 10. And hubby had done the dishes! And put the Boog down for a nap! I am so loving my hubby today.

Our visit to said Sacramento friends was nice, albeit a bit odd. Have you ever gone to visit friends and the tension is so thick you can swim through it? I was going to say "cut it with a knife," but I didn't. Because it makes me think of the Bryan Adams song, and we don't want that silly song floating around in our head, do we? Damn, too late. Anyhoo, the tension, yes. Like they got in a big argument before we arrived. And now have to be all hostess-y and stuff.

The Boog was reinstated as a 7-month old about three hours in to our visit, when he rubbed his little eyes and gave us the excuse to excuse ourselves. Yay, Boog! Having a baby opens up this whole new world of excuses to parents:

"Sorry we're late. His nap ran longer than usual."
"We need to get going. It's past his nap time."
"We're running a bit late. The Boog still nursing/being fussy/[insert made-up reason here]"

I know. It's sneaky and deceitful. And you can keep your comments to yourself, readers.

Oh, and on a totally different note: Has anyone seen "The Polar Express"? I just did, yesterday. I've renamed it "Death Trap Express". Those children almost lost their lives at least ten times during the course of this film. Is this a children's film? Really? Just wondering.

11 November 2006

Day Eleven

Rob: "It looks like a good day for me to do some writing."

Me: "Yeah? Are you going to write a little today?"

Rob: "...probably not."

10 November 2006

Please Stop Me!

Okay, no more babies giggling. AFTER this one. This one KILLS me! Thanks, Christie. To top it off, it's from Sveeden! I dare you to not feel happier after this one.

Giggling Boog

This is kind of lacking proper light, but so deliciously contagious with the laughing. One of the reasons I love motherhood. And my son.

Day Ten - My Story, cont.

Dude! The month is, like, a third of the way done already!

Previously, on "My Story"... Duh! See yesterday's post, silly!

Returning from Saudi Arabia at the tender age of 15 brought me back to Orange County in Southern California, crashing into high school and the strange environs of that whole culture. I made some lifelong friends and have more pictures of my claw bangs than I care to admit. Good times.

Due to all the traipsing around the world with my family that I accomplished before graduating high school, I was forever bitten by the bug of wanderlust. Being a poor college student, my travels consisted of weekend visits to my parents and their washer and dryer. Oh, and moving to new apartments every 6 months or so. I also enjoyed transferring to college after college, arbitrarily changing majors when it suited me. Ah, the follies of youth. I ended up at Cal Poly Pomona for a few years as an Electrical Engineer major, which came to an end when I decided that intense competition with dorky electrical engineer majors was a drag and was totally harshing my gig. Dude.

I floated about in McJobs for a couple more years, and then up and left for Lake Tahoe, to teach little people how to ski. That kicked ass. Too bad the hourly rate for such a career was miniscule. The free season's pass helped me get over the hump (pun intended) of skiing mediocrity, though. My fear of the mogul was overcome. Get it? Hump? Mogul?

Ahem.

Snow melts and ski instructors lose their jobs. Such is the life of a slacker. Moved down to San Francisco. Found a "real" job to pay rent and bills and mixed drinks at The Makeout Room in the Mission. Stayed in real job for close to ten years, paying off debt and finishing degree, which ended up being in Accounting.

Have finally obtained dream job of motherhood through a very thorough search for appropriate husband/father (check), and quitting icky office job (check) to work for new, and quite chubby, boss. I love my new job.

Livin' the dream, my friends! (That last bit is for your benefit, Meigan!)

Da Boog

His "Mormor" (sveedish for Mom's Mom) made him this outfit. So cute and circus-y. Definitely makes his cheeks all the more ripe for the picking.

09 November 2006

Day Nine - My Story

'Sup? My very first comment (yay!) was from a hilarious woman named Sasha. Thanks, Sasha! I'm somebody! I'm somebody! ("The new phone books are here!") Christ, I'm a nerd.

So I go to her site, cuz she's my new favorite person, and love her posts. Some surfing brings me to ECR's blog, and I am inspired by her Day 3 post, entitled "An Introduction." I am going to steal her idea and introduce myself as well. I feel like I am doing the blogger equivalent of looking at her test answers over her shoulder! So sneaky am I!

I'm Eva! I'm a fairly new mom, to 7 month old son I call "The Boog", wife to Rob. I'm a stay-at-home-mom, and rather excited about it, if I may say so myself. Living on one salary means we're basically poor, but it's a good trade to get to raise my son my own damn way. Being a mom is a WAY harder job than I ever thought it would be, but I get to kiss and cuddle with my boss all day, and he doesn't micro-manage, which is awesome. I quit my job as an accounting manager when The Boog was born, and not a moment too soon, either. My old boss was a psycho. But that's another post altogether.

I grew up mostly in Southern California, with a few years of my childhood in Norway, Sweden, and Saudi Arabia. My parents are from the first two. My dad's passion for engineering (yes, the nerd apples don't fall far from the nerd tree) took us to Saudi Arabia for five years in the first half of the 80s decade. It was there that I first met Rob; eleven years old, and as cute as they come with a crooked smile that melted my little prepubescent heart. I was instantly smitten. His sister was in my grade, so I took every opportunity to hang with her after school. I even asked Mom if he could come with us to the beach (the Red Sea!) one weekend and she said yes:

Mom dug this photo out when we got engaged. How cute are we?

Well, he left after two years, and I saw him again when I was 21 (around 1991?)at a reunion of a bunch of Saudi expats. Then he made me dinner about a year later, then nothing, due to a lack of interest on his end, and then in 2000, after a period of emailing each other, we went to see Harry Potter together. Then back to emailing, due to a lack of interest on my end, and then two years ago, BAM! We were both interested at the same time! In each other! Fell in love, got engaged, got married, got pregnant, became parents, and are living happily ever after.

The Boog is suffering from stuffy nose syndrome (SNS) and requires my attention. This saga is therefore to be continued tomorrow...

08 November 2006

Day Eight - Divorce Watch 2006

This just in (sort of) - Big Surprise - Britney files for divorce from He Who Must Not Be Named Because His Nickname Is Stupid.

It is unfortunate that this comes AFTER two offspring of this nerfherder are born, but way to go Britney! That took courage. And she looked happy, healthy and put-together on her Letterman visit. I'm looking forward to seeing how she dredges her career up from the bottom of the murky murkiness. I have no doubt that she will!

I can't help but feel sorry for her in a way. I can only imagine the field day that the media is and will be having with her ordeal.

Oh, and Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillippe? What is going on???? I thought those two were in the "til death" group in Hollywood. Go figure. I was just telling Rob the other day that you really have no idea what is going on in a marriage unless you're the one in it.

07 November 2006

Happy Election Day!

Today's Likes and Dislikes!

Like: Phillippine Brand Dried Mangoes
These absolutely rock. It's like taking a little trip in your mind to shores unknown.... I picture myself lying on a warm beach, perfumed heavy winds blowing seamist, waxy leafy plants rustling nearby... Eh, not really. But they're nummers.

Dislike: Drivers that speed up to close the gap between themselves and the car in front of them to prevent you from changing lanes. And I even use my blinker! Correct me if I'm wrong please, but this seems to be an isolated habit of Northern California drivers.

06 November 2006

Costco Trip



The Boog had his first shopping cart ride yesterday, at Costco. I cannot repeat it in my head often enough: I love seeing the world through my child's eyes. His new vantage point was visibly intriguing to him. He has also recently begun looking straight up, at the sky, the ceiling, blinding himself while staring at bright ceiling lights.

We usually put him in the Baby Bjorn for trips such as these, which is a whole other experience. I love the fact that I don't even have to see his face to know that he's excited about something he's looking at. He just kicks his little legs and makes some random cute baby noise. Awww.

Okay, I'm done with the cuteness.

I filled out my absent voter ballot today. The whole purpose of the "absent" bit was to avoid the stupid lines at the poll with the Boog. But I have to drop it off at a polling place anyways now, since it's too late to mail. Ah, the wonders and convenience of procrastination.

05 November 2006

My little love



I taught the Boog how to stick out his tongue yesterday. I haven't captured it on film yet, but give me time. I love the fact that this seems to embarrass my mother. The fact that I am teaching silly things to my child. Like sticking out your tongue is a bad thing. I don't think he's capable of giving anyone the finger yet, so this will have to do for now.

04 November 2006

WorkSleepWorkSleep

My husband Rob has been working loooooong hours this week, including a full day today. A Saturday! To add insult to injury, we have friends staying with us, and he doesn't get to hang out with them much. This makes me sad, and yet guilty for feeling sad since he's the one with the sucky work hours this week.

The friends left today and I was looking forward to getting the Boog to bed so that we could enjoy a nice evening together, just the two of us. We have some Netflix that are burning a hole through the top of our TV, and I got some kettle corn this morning at the farmer's market just for him.

So I give the Boog a bath, get him in his pj's, and hand him over to Rob to finish the bedtime routine with his bottle, a story and a song. I settle in the living room and check my email. Thirty minutes later, and no sign of Rob. I check on them and he's asleep with the Boog in the rocker. So I got the little guy in his crib and helped a sleepy husband out of the rocker and he wanders into the living room and passes out on the cot that our guests were sleeping on. This annoys me. I help myself to more soda in the kitchen, which makes some noise and agitates my sleeping husband.

Am I supposed to be all quiet in the living room while he sleeps here? No sir. It's 8pm. I am not sleepy and would like to sit and chill without any baby needs or house guest needs, and just veg. Vegg? I don't know how to spell that.

Anyhoo. I told him to go to bed very nicely, that he must be exhausted. That I would feel guilty for making noise in here if he's sleeping. He got up and said, no, it's too early, he shouldn't go to sleep yet. Yada, yada, yada, and he's now asleep in our room. And now I'm sad. I can't get my brain around the nonsense of working so hard to support your family while sacrificing time with said family. Isn't there a better compromise that's more in my favor? I miss getting my way and I miss pouting when I don't.

I'm off to practice my pouty lip.

03 November 2006

Politically Incorrect

Jefe: So you know how they call K-Fed a "wigger"?
Me: Yeah? I've never heard that one.
Jefe: That's like a sniglet! I used to love those! My favorite that I remember to this day is "lactomangulation". It's when you open a carton of milk from the illegal side.
Me: Wow, I totally remember sniglets. So what do you call my friend's baby girl from the mom's group? Her mom is Chinese and her dad is Swedish.
Jefe: Um...swasian?
Me: Um...Scandinasian.

02 November 2006

Pathetic Excuse for a Post

A very dear old friend from my college days is visiting with his wife and son, who quite conveniently is only a month older than ours. They're staying with us, which makes me so happy, since it means I get all kinds of time with them.

Having a small two bedroom has made the sleeping arrangements a bit of a logistical nightmare. My mom's idea won me over: set up cots in the living room, with the pack and play alongside. That way, they have their own space and don't have to do the whole fold/unfold sofa bed/tidy up all the stuff and have to dig in bags every time you need something during the day.

What we all clearly forgot (conveniently forgot?) is that two babies in one house does not make for a breezy night of sleeping. Us moms have our baby radars on all night long, so we've got an ear pricked for any baby noise, including that of the other one. I was awake most of the night. Is that JT or Robby who's fussing? Did I hear something? What was that? And so on.

Fortunately, we're all good friends, and making it work. Which means just calling it a night at 9pm, and going to our respective sleep spaces. Oh well. I knew my college days were over long ago. I just didn't expect that becoming a parent meant sacrificing late night pow-wows with old friends. So now I'm the only one still awake in the house. At least it's quiet enough to type this lame post without interruption.

p.s. Sorry for the lame-ass boring post.
p.p.s. Did I mention that this post sucks?

01 November 2006

First of November

And so it begins! The NaBloPoMo challenge in underway, and I am posting once a day. A bit daunting, being a new blogger, but I'm loving the process of fine-tuning the look of my site, and feeling quite inspired by all the other participants!

I even figured out how to put the logo/seal thingie in the margin. Woo hoo! (YES, I'M NEW)

I've been creating a mental list of subjects to discuss, and I was thinking that having a notepad around at all times would be a good idea. Do you do that? So that when inspiration strikes, you have a pen and paper at the ready? My memory has been affected by motherhood and most of the time I can't remember what I had for lunch, let alone keep track of an entire LIST in my head. And Maggie says "No One Cares What You Had For Lunch", after all. I guess I'm off the hook for recalling lunch stuff.