SunThrift Finds

We went to SunThrift and then the park this evening. I like to pick things up there that I either use for my kids or sell on eBay. Sometimes there's nothing much, but sometimes I totally score. Today was one of those days-- I found a drop-dead gorgeous dress for Ems! I wish I knew where the camera was so I could post a picture. It is just the most precious dress I've ever bought. It's obviously hand-made, and it's the kind of thing people sell for $60 on eBay-- a navy blue dress, hand-smocked with little red birds sitting on green vines, a gathered waist and finished sash in the back, with red rick-rack trim on the cuffs and collar and buttons and thread perfectly color-matched to the fabric. It's impeccably finished and made, looks brand-new, and it cost me all of $2.99. $2.99! Score! It actually probably wouldn't fit her if she wasn't so skinny, but that's okay. She is, so it does. :) We tend to get a lot of wear out of dresses, since as long as I get longer dresses, not "knee-length", and they have short sleeves, they can wear them for about a size longer than their shirts (at which point they really do usually hit the knee.) I've decided that this will be her Thanksgiving dress this year, and she can probably wear it for about another month and a half before she outgrows it. The best part is that cute as it will be on her, it will look even better on our blue-eyed and fair-skinned Bridey when she grows into it (like me, navy blue is one of her best colors. Emma doesn't have any bad colors, everything looks good on her, but she doesn't look quite as special in navy blue as Bridget does.)

I also found a totally adorable little romper for Bridget, with The Very Hungry Caterpillar and some of the foods he ate on it. Carter's, looks like it was worn about once, and this was also $2.99. It's probably intended for boys, but I really don't care. And it's got a background of navy blue and royal blue stripes, so as I mentioned above, Bridey is going to look GORGEOUS in it.

I usually try to limit myself to things that are half off that day if I can (they have different tag colors and every day they choose two tag colors and make them 50% off, they have a big sign where they display what the colors are that day, it makes it like a treasure hunt, lots of fun!) However, when you find things this good, you buy them, whether they're on sale or not. The price is still totally more than reasonable, and they'll be gone if you wait on them. Part of the thrill of thrift-store shopping is deciding what is worth buying, what you'll buy if you come back and it's still there and is a better price, and what is not worth what they're asking for it. I totally excel at this, and it's a way for me to feed my shopping habit without putting us into more debt than we've already got (we're trying to pay it off, not dig the hole deeper!) So I'm glad we live within walking distance to SunThrift, which is just about the coolest thrift store EVER. (I do draw the line at buying clothes for me. I do not need more clothes. I got some nursing dresses this year, but other than new nylons once in a while, and those, that's it. Okay, and an "I PUT KETCHUP ON MY KETCHUP" t-shirt, but that was, like, made for me. And I got some new maternity clothes last winter but that was because I was outgrowing the ones I'd used my first pregnancy. I won't buy any more clothes for myself. Unless I really really really can't live without them. I won't! Really! ;) )

PMS Blues

In the words of Dolly Parton:

"Most times I'm easy goin'
Some say I'm good as gold,
But when I'm PMS, I tell you,
I turn mean and cold.

It makes us hate our husbands,
Our lovers, and our boss,
Why, I can't even count the good friends
I've already lost
From the

PMS Blu-u-ues
PMS Blues, oh Lord.

I don't even like myself,
But it's somethin' I can't help,
Got those rantin', ravin', misbehavin'
PMS Blues."


If I've been cranky lately, there's a reason. Hormones affect me in a way that they don't most women. I do things that might be deemed clinically insane if anyone was brave enough to try and diagnose me. I get mean, to everyone, for any reason. I cry because someone got my order wrong at a restaurant. I mean, I yelled at my 6 month old to stop it the other day. I realized as soon as I did that that was really dumb; she doesn't know what she's doing, and she doesn't know what I'm saying. But I yelled, and in the moment, it seemed a reasonable response to her grabbing my glasses off my face. (Luckily she thought that was hilarious and laughed her little head off.) And when I'm pregnant, it's like 9 months of PMS. But worse. I've yelled at bishops, friends, ten-year-old children, for next to no reason. I've gotten so wild I throw things, break things, storm out of the house and don't tell anyone where I'm going, threaten to (and intend to) kill myself. My husband has learned to treat me with kid gloves when I'm hormonally volatile (and has such an inoffensive personality he dodges most bullets instinctively.) Even so, he gets yelled at for things like moving the blanket two inches or asking me if I need to eat or drink something. So if I've yelled at you or snapped at you or been otherwise rude in the last week, please know it's not me. This is not an excuse, it's the plain truth. I do my best to control myself, but I'm NOT myself. I'm really not. And I AM sorry afterwards if I remember what I did. So my apologies. Mr. Hyde has come to stay the week, and much as I want to turn him away, I just don't know how.

Such strange things I find myself doing.

It's that time of year. Halloween costume-making time, when I find myself doing all manner of strange tasks. Last year I was shopping for Christmas paper and decorations and papering a huge cardboard box. The year before, I was hunting out the perfect size of paper bag to make Emma Princess Elizabeth from The Paper Bag Princess.

This year, I'm coloring the logo on a jacket.

Yes, you read that right. I'm sitting, royal blue Sharpie in hand, at 2:30 in the morning, coloring the white "Reebok" logo off a jacket. Well, coloring it royal blue, anyway, so it doesn't show against the royal blue background of the rest of the jacket.

There is a reason, I assure you. You see, the Ketchup Princess has decided that we will all be Sesame Street characters for Halloween. She will be Bert, Her Royal Heinz-ness will be Ernie, Mama will be Oscar the Grouch (yes, that's me rolling my eyes you hear) and Abba will be Cookie Monster.

I keep myself on a pretty tight budget for these things; after all, it's only Halloween costumes. I don't care if they're perfect. That's why I only painted Bert's stripes on the front of the sweatshirt that will become the main part of the Bert costume, and intend to do the same with Ernie, and why I don't care that they're sloppy. (It's also why that Paper Bag Princess smelled like a sandwich; it was a recycled Jason's Deli bag I ended up using. Perfect size, and so delicious smelling. ;) ) So I got as much as possible at the local (totally awesome) thrift store, Sun Thrift. They have sales on certain tag colors every day, and I found my husband's jacket for his costume there on a day when it ended up being $2. It was the only royal blue jacket with a hood; alas! at the local high school I went to, where the school colors are blue and white (and the middle school, too, for that matter, not that that matters much when seeking things in sizes fit for adult men), "blue" usually translates to "navy blue", not "royal blue" when we're talking sweatshirts, so my options were pretty limited. In any case, I got it, but it had a big white Reebok logo on it. Cookie Monster obviously doesn't have a big white Reebok logo on his chest, so I had to do something about it.

Considering the trouble I had with paint, I was thrilled when I thought, as I was waiting for the paint on the sweatshirt to dry enough that I could hang it to dry the rest of the way, of using a Sharpie to color it instead. Of course I had to do this now, while the Princess is asleep, or I would never be able to take another Sharpie away when she wanted to color something with it (usually electronics or the walls or important documents) without hearing, "Mama draw pen Abba ja-jet!"

So the royal blue warm-up jacket now has a royal blue Reebok logo instead of a white one, and it actually looks pretty decent. Decent enough for a Halloween costume. And my head is a little fuzzy and dizzy and achy from the Sharpie fumes. Guess it's time to call it a night. The things we do for the sake of our two-year-olds' Halloween costume wishes.

What's Your Blog Worth?

Kind of a fun quiz! I followed this link from More Cowbell. Check it out! Mine's not worth much, but heck, I've only had it a few months!

My blog is worth $3,387.24.
How much is your blog worth?

Whew!

I'm SO glad that is (pretty much) over!

We were all sick as dogs this weekend. Dogs who had been eating chocolate. Really, really sick. We were discussing how glad we are that we live in the era of modern medicine, or we could have died from dehydration. Luckily we have Immodium and anti-nausea medication (left over from my pregnancy-- but I got my doctor dad's okay before using it on my husband, I remembered about it too late to help me), which stopped the loss of fluids pretty quickly once we got them in. Luckily last time we were at Big Lots we had picked up some Gerber LiquiLytes Instant Mix Powder, which Emma liked much better than Pedialyte, and which, at 6 packets for $1, was much cheaper. (It also takes up less room in our cupboard.)

Now we both have a lot to do to catch up on what we missed this weekend (schoolwork and work-work for Jeff, Halloween costume work and laundry for me, and housework for both of us), although when I called my mom and we were both sick, she came over on Sunday to help take care of us and did dishes, and washed all the clothes (mostly Emma's) and sheets with vomit and diarrhea on them. I have my differences with my mom, but she's always been there when I really need her for stuff like this. In fact I think it's easier for her to be there this way than in others; it's kind of what she does (she's a nurse and also on the "service ministry team" at her church, and she's just always been like that.)

In any case, I'm grateful that she was, and that she convinced Jeff that he needed to be out yesterday instead of at work. He might have tried to go in otherwise.

We're (mostly) all better now, although we're weaning ourselves back onto normal food very slowly. Hooray for modern medicine, and mommies who are nurses and teach you how to take care of yourself when you're sick (and bring over medicine and stuff!)

Curses, Dire Exclamations, and Foul Language!

Today is the last day of our class at Descanso. I was really excited to get out; it always makes that last day before the weekend seem that much easier and faster to go to Descanso for half a day, and Emma has been loving it.

Instead, Emma woke as Jeff's alarm began to go off a little before 7, leaned forward, and vomited (thankfully on the fleece blanket and not the electric one!) I am feeling a little queasy myself.

So instead of getting out for a fun time that we were both looking forward to, I'm stuck inside with a sick toddler, possibly sick myself, and what do you bet the baby is fussy, too?

Bummed does not begin to describe it. I am cursing the universe this morning. It's Just Not Fair. Why does the universe seem to conspire to wreck my fun?

Oh, well. Soon she'll forget what she missed. And we can do the Spring class next year. *sigh* But I just am frustrated.

At least Jeff took the 6th of November off so we can take a little (sorely needed) mini-vacation. We're thinking Flagstaff, we love to visit there. (Too cold to live there, but nice to visit.)

One of those things I'm never going to get over.

There are one or two in every lifetime; sometimes more. Things you see, pictures or video or things you witness, sometimes even things you just hear news of, that will stay with you forever, that you're never going to get over. A few may be good, but most are probably bad things. Awful things. For my parents' generation, some of these things are the Kennedy assassination, the King assassination, that picture of the naked girl running, screaming, down the street covered in flaming napalm.

Then there are the things I've seen in my young life, things I'm never going to forget. One of them, the fall of the Berlin wall, is good. I saw it on the news as a child and will never forget it. But most, again, not things I'd wish my children to see. Things like the massacre at Tiananmen Square. The Challenger exploding (I was only 3, but my mom was home on maternity leave so I didn't have to go to preschool, and she sat down to watch with me. I will never forget it.) I didn't have a tv when the latest shuttle accident occurred, but my husband was living in Dallas at the time and saw the flash in the sky. He won't forget it. The planes crashing into the Twin Towers, of course; even without a tv back then, there's no way I could avoid seeing the images and remembering. And then there's the one that got me thinking about this. Footage from Hurricane Katrina of a family on a roof passing their baby to rescue workers. There was no room in the boat for another adult. They were just bringing some clean water and some hope. But they took the baby, and the parents had to say goodbye, not knowing if they would ever see her again. The story was repeated over and over. Stories of children whose parents sent them with rescue workers to get them out, any way they could. Stories of parents who didn't have a car but sent their children with relatives or neighbors who were leaving. Who knows how many survived and how many didn't after doing that. But it's a image that just makes me weep typing and thinking about it.

It's an image that touches that "archetypal story" spot in all of us. In the history of mankind, how many parents have said, "Here, I know there's only room for one, save my baby?" But what really got me about that particular shot (the last time I saw it used was on an Emeril special, it's such powerful imagery that I don't think they're ever going to stop using that footage) was that this is America. Every part of me rages that this should never have happened, shouldn't have to happen here. I mean, it shouldn't happen anywhere, but we're the richest country in the world. That's what made me the most upset at the time. We had just moved from Dallas and I wished that I were still there, so I could be more a part of the relief effort. I felt so helpless, so angry for all those children who through unfortunate circumstance, ignorance of the real situation on the part of another, or bureaucratic inefficiency suffered, and for their parents who watched them, and would take any chance to save them, in America. And so every time I read a story where a parent gives a child away to save her, or watch that episode of The X-Files, or anything like that, for the rest of my life, probably, the tears are going to come to my eyes. I'm never going to get over it. The face of the characters in those books will always be the anguished face of that mother and father as they kissed their baby and leaned out to pass her into the boat. And I will go hold my babies tightly and kiss them, and thank God that we are safe and together.

Goodness gracious!

Bridget just ate 3/4 cup of rice cereal in one sitting! After nursing on one side! And then nursed on the other! (1/4 cup is listed as one serving.)

I'm shocked. Absolutely shocked. 0_0

That is all.

A Halloween MeMe

I've been tagged for a spooky "MeMe" (which I gather is a kinda-meme answering questions about myself) by No Cool Story at More Cowbell. So here goes:

1. What's the scariest movie you've ever seen?
Hmmm. I'm not into scary-scary movies. No blood-filled slasher films for me. But every once in a while there's a sci-fi or psychological "scary" film that I do see (I Netflix them, though, 'cause I just couldn't handle them in the theater, not that I ever get out for a real movie anyway.) There are two that always make me scream and hold my husband even though I've seen them multiple times and know exactly when the scary parts are: Signs, which makes me scream at three predictable points and the end of which, as a long-time asthmatic, horrifies me, and The Others, which is not scary to me, I think, in the way it's supposed to be, but the old medium lady's face freaks me out SO MUCH especially when she comes to the kids hiding in the closet, and the ending is soooo chilling to me. And, well, I'm always scared by things about mothers killing their children.

2. What was your favorite Halloween Costume from childhood, and adulthood?
Oh, that's hard. I'm going to count childhood as under 18, and adulthood as over 18 for this one. In that case, hands-down my favorite childhood costume is when I re-created a Rogue Squadron pilot outfit from Star Wars. I freeze-framed the movies and also scoured the books for details, right down to making and sewing on a name patch with Aurabesh lettering of the name of the pilot (from one of the books) I was going as, sewing on gold star buttons for the proper "rank insignia", and making a Rogue Squadron patch as described in the books. I worked for four months on that costume. As an adult, mmmm. I think that would be last year, when my husband and I went as a Christmas present and a Christmas tree.



3. If you had an unlimited budget, what would your Fantasy Costume be for this Halloween?
Oh, goodness. I got so caught up in letting Ems choose what we're going to be and going from there, I haven't even though of it. Something quirky, of course. And I get more pleasure from making clever costumes than from spending a lot of money; in fact, spending the least money possible is part of the fun for me. So if I were going to have an unlimited budget, I think I'd do something like period Renaissance garb that I could wear to Faires and other places, not just once.

4. When was the last time you went Trick Or Treating?
Well, I took my daughter last year. ;) I know, I know. Actually went, not taking one of my kids, when I was 14. Technically I thought I was a little old, but I was taking my brother who was 11. The year after he was allowed to go alone, but that year I was okay with giving one last hurrah (and getting candy!)

5. What's your favorite Halloween Candy?
Favorite candy to be given, or favorite candy only available at Halloween? I've always been a fan of Three Musketeers, Almond Joy, 100 Grand, and the like, but I am also a fan of candy corn, which is only available this time of the year. Pure sugar, mmmm!

6. Tell us about a scary nightmare you had.
I have a lot of nightmares, and sometimes do some scary sleepwalking (trying to harm myself or others in my sleep, and the like), but I don't remember them, usually. The last nightmare I remember, I had when I was pregnant with Bridget. In my dream, Bridey was breech, and the doctor said, "So, we're going to schedule you for a c-section." I said, "Well, I'd prefer to try version first, I really don't want a c-section." My doctor (who was NOT like this in real life, holds the mother's wishes in highest esteem, is a fan of version and has even delivered breeches vaginally several times in the last five years, and sees c-sections as a last resort) said, "No, I won't allow that. When would you like your c-section?" It went on like that for a while, and then I went out to call my husband in to try to get him on my side (which is strange because my mom took me to all my appointments this pregnancy, but in my dream for some reason my husband was there) and my HUSBAND said, "Honey, aren't you being a little unreasonable? If the doctor says a c-section is best, you'd better schedule a c-section." (Again, my husband believes that I need to do whatever is right for me when it comes to childbirth and trusts me to make the right decisions for myself and my babies. He'd never say that.) So then I called my mom, who even though I have differences with her has ALWAYS been my advocate in situations like that, and is a registered nurse and also sees c-sections as a last resort, and SHE said, "Well, Anne, you know, breech births can be pretty risky, it's better for you to have a c-section if that's what the doctor says you need." And I was going out of my head because no one would listen to me when I was listing all the other things we could try BEFORE that last-resort c-section, and they were dismissing my wishes like they were not important or relevant. *sigh* It was a very scary dream, I woke up crying and angry and terrified.

7. What is your Supernatural Fear?
I don't really believe in most supernatural things... I guess if they were real, vampires would be the scariest because 1) they "infect" you when they bite you, turn you into one of them, which I find incredibly creepy, and 2) I do NOT want to live on this earth forever in this mortal body without ever passing on to the next life. *shudders*

8. What is your Creepy-Crawlie Fear?
You know, when I'm pregnant I get really easily grossed out and afraid of spiders, bugs, etc., but when I'm not, they're not that bad; the only ones that really bother me are bees (afraid of getting stung), maggots (eeew; 'nuff said) and scorpions (again, afraid of getting stung.)

9. Tell us about a time when you saw a ghost, or heard something go Bump in the night.
I don't feel it's appropriate to share my experience with spirits, I hold them as sacred and am not gonna talk about it here.

However, once when I was little, we had a raccoon in the attic and it seriously sounded like a big ol' man walking around up there and it was creepy as all get out.

10. Would you ever stay in a real Haunted House overnight?
Hmmmm. Assuming they existed, it depends what I was getting out of it and how dangerous the "hants" were.

11. Are you a traditionalist (just a face) Jack O'Lantern Carver, or do you get really creative with your pumpkins?
Pretty traditionalist. In fact, we have our own traditions; growing up my dad always had at least one "ghost" pumpkin, which was white and we carved a "ghost face" on, and a skinny tall one and a short round one that we made into Bert and Ernie.

12. How much do you decorate your home for Halloween?
Decorate? What's decorate? ;)

Some years we have a few Jack-o-Lanterns or decorated pumpkins outside. Somewhere we have a witch that's supposed to hang on the door that my mother-in-law gave us, but I don't know where it is and it's kinda cutesy for me.

13. What do you want on your Tombstone?
The works-- pepperoni, sausage, onions, bell peppers, all of it. ;)

Seriously, besides name, dates, etc., maybe a verse from Scripture:

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you, not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

Hopefully I will have that peace in my heart my whole life, so I think that would be appropriate for my tombstone. And it's from the Bible, not the Book of Mormon, so my non-member family won't feel alienated. ;)


So, that's it! I am going to tag happy mommy and Titus Todd for this MeMe, if they will deign to participate. ;)

New pics of the girls

While we were at my dad's and Sheri's last Sunday (being fed Lithuanian food, yum!), Sheri (who is just about the only one Ems will hold still for so her picture can be taken) caught Emma in a good mood and got some pictures of her and some of her and Bridey together.



So while I watched A Prairie Home Companion last night (more on that later, maybe) I got Jeff to figure out what Ems had done to the scanner and scan them so I could share here and e-mail to my in-laws.



Since they're scanned, they're obviously not the best picture quality ever. But I think they get the point across.



There were a few with Emma holding BOTH babies, hers and Bridget, but I don't see them. I don't know if they didn't get scanned or what. Oh, well. I guess maybe I'll have to come back and post more later. ;)



In any case, I think they're pretty adorable, so here they are for those of you who have been clamoring for more pictures since our camera went missing a few months ago.

More and More Accomplishments Every Day

Today while Ems and Bridey and I were at my mom's house (we went over eeeearly in the morning to meet the plumber), Emma and I made brownies to share with Abba and Grandma when they came home (from a mix, but these are better than I can make from scratch, mmmm.) While I was measuring, I told her, "See this? It says one-slash-three. That means one third cup. We have one third cup of water, and we need one third cup of oil. If we have one third cup and one third cup, how much do we have all together?" Without any hesitation, she answered, "Two third cup." :D And while we were counting the strokes, she got all the way up to 18 before she dropped out, and she jumped back in for 28 and 38 (eight seems to be her favorite number.)

Later we were reading Jamberry, and I asked Emma, "How many elephants do you see?" She carefully counted, "One, two, three!" That's the first time she's actually made the connection that you count once for each object, and don't just count for the sake of counting. (Between that and the addition, I am having absolutely no guilty feelings about how much Sesame Street I let her watch.)

Another first today-- we played catch outside with a small, soft, stuffed ball, and she actually CAUGHT THE BALL! Not just once, but about a quarter of the times she tried. This is a brand new skill as well, and one we've been working on for a while.

It's just so cool to me. I mean, I've worked with kids before, and I've read a lot of child development, but somehow it's different when it's MY child hitting the milestones.

Bridget, too, is growing up fast. She tries to chew her mashed bananas when she very occasionally gets them, and when we were playing peekaboo behind her playpen yesterday, I noticed that she's got the hang of pattern recognition. I peeked over the top and then bent down to the bottom repeatedly, then did the bottom twice in a row and caught her looking up to find me at the top. This is also a Very Good Sign that she's developmentally on target. :)

So, to sum up, girls doing good, me very proud. ;)

Is there anything nastier...

...than getting all set to enjoy a nice cold glass of milk (in this case, chocolate) and then taking a big gulp of SPOILED milk?

My husband was trying to use up some milk that we had bought (cheaper if you buy two at once) but never used (Ems ate all the cereal and so Jeff didn't go through it like he usually does.) So he made the milk chocolatey but not too chocolatey, just the way I like it, and proudly brought it to me. I took a HUGE gulp-- and almost threw up. I ran to the bathroom, dumped it down the sink, and did some heaving (luckily or unluckily, nothing actually came up.) All the time, I was practically yelling (but not really, since Bridget was asleep), "Eeeew! Nasty! The milk is BAD!" (I know, I'm a drama queen as well as the ketchup queen.) I put some toothpaste directly on my tongue and scrubbed it in to kill the taste, and it almost worked. Ick. So I washed out everything that had touched the spoiled milk while the Princess and the Prince Consort went to the store for some good milk, because once I get worked up for chocolate milk (and Ems does too), it's just mean not to get it, and have your last taste of the night be spoiled milk. (Thank goodness our local Ralphs is open until 2 a.m.)

Okay, I know there are nastier things, but that ranks pretty high on my list. I have always just hated spoiled milk.

In other news, my almost-step-mother got some great pictures of Ems and Bridey on Sunday. As soon as I am woman enough to wrestle with the scanner and figure it out, I'll post them.

In still other news, my sweetie had two really complicated, long projects/papers due tonight, and got them both done before 10 (the deadline; his school runs on Central time, so since everything is due at midnight there he has effectively two less working hours to complete his work and get it in, which can be tough.) Writing is not his strong suit, but he has been persevering and slogging through, and I'm really proud of him for getting it done and even maintaining a respectable GPA throughout the whole thing. I know he works so hard, at school, home, and work, because he loves us and wants us to have a better life, and I really appreciate all he does for us (like taking the two-year-old to the store at 11:30 so I could have a few minutes' rest and some chocolate milk when he got back, or wading through confusing phone numbers and staying on hold for long periods of time so our daughter can have a doctor close to us and stop getting her shots at the city clinic.) I often feel like I don't deserve him. All I can say to all those girls up at Ricks who were cold to him (no pun intended-- but hee hee!) when they learned that he had not served a mission and would not be serving one in the near future (not by choice, and he served well and faithfully as a very young Ward Mission Leader, which I guess is now classified as a stake mission) is, "Thank you!" Thank you for being short-sighted enough to ignore all the qualities that make my Prince Consort a wonderful husband and father, and how cute he is to boot, so that I could snap him up and live happily ever after. Your loss is definitely our gain. :D

Patterns

Sometimes, since having my second daughter, I wonder about some things. Y'see, my eldest daughter has inherited a whoooole lot of my problems. She has my sleep problems, she has skin problems (eczema, extreme dry skin, still gets cradle cap-- if it lasts much longer it's just going to be seborrheic dermatitis, like mine, has a skin reaction to ZINC, which means we can't put diaper cream or some kinds of sunscreen on her, etc.), and she seems to have my sensory processing and integration issues as well (not bad enough to require OT, but bad enough to need accommodation now and then.) She has the IBS bowel patterns that I, too, have exhibited since I was an infant. These things were all, looking back, apparent from day 1.

My second daughter has none of these. None. El zippo. She has yet to react to anything on her skin, including all the weird stuff her big sister puts on her, despite being fairer in coloration than her sister (for the most part) and can use regular baby shampoo instead of her dad's dandruff shampoo. She poops on schedule. She plays happily with age-appropriate toys instead of going into a screaming fit of avoidance or exhibiting extreme caution like her sister did at this age, and seems to relish patterns and textures like a normal 5-month-old. Most of all, you put her down in her crib and she lays her head down, sticks her thumb in her mouth, and goes to sleep. Egad! How do she and her father do it?

Of course, I love both my kids to death, and I love them equally, if sometimes in different ways. But I do worry about the teenage years with the first because she is so much like me. Not to borrow trouble, of course, I don't obsess about it. But the thought comes up occasionally.

As I'm thinking about all these things, I begin to wonder. Are they all related somehow? What about my other problems, such as the joint and ligament stuff that also runs in my family in one form or another? Will she have them as she gets older? These things all run in my family, are we exhibiting some strange syndrome that will someday be named after us? If I have one child with these problems and one without, do each of my kids have a 50% chance of getting my problems, or is it somewhat less? Will they all go together in each child affected? (No, we're not done, we've both always known we are going to have a lot of kids-- at least 6 or 7, maybe more.) Or will they be a la carte? (I suppose that would put my syndrome worry to rest, no pun intended.)

I know I shouldn't worry and just deal with it as it comes. "Sufficient unto the day is the trouble thereof." But sometimes, these patterns scare me. I don't regret bringing children into this world; I survived my childhood, and my family situation was a lot worse than theirs is ever going to be (can we say 20-year custody battle? Parents screaming threats in public? Emotional manipulation?) But I just feel bad that my daughter has to go through these problems that I've had to go through, and some of which I'm still going through. *sigh*

Being a mommy is hard.

All Worked Up and No Reason at All

I got myself all nervous about having to make a good impression on the lady in charge of hiring teachers and meeting someone new (social anxiety makes it even harder for me), and guess what? It's my old friend Claire from high school! We were in the same grade, went to the same middle and high schools, and were in AFJROTC (where we regularly pretended to have cramps to get out of PT, especially when the Marine recruiter was running PT; I think Sarge knew we were faking, especially when it was three weeks in a row, but he didn't even want to think about it enough to deal with it) and, rather briefly, Job's Daughters together, as well as some English and other classes. She's always been cool, one of those people who ignores cliques and is nice to EVERYONE no matter who they are or what they do. She's a really sweet person, and when I dropped off my resume I got to chat with her for quite a while, and had quite a great time! So hopefully I'll get a call back about it at some point not too far down the line. :D