Friday, September 29, 2006
Future Possibility-- for FUN and also MONEY!
I'm kinda excited! My almost-step-mom and I were discussing how they canceled the kids' sculpture class at the park she teaches classes at, and were thinking of replacing it with "3-D Art" for ages 3-5. She asked if I had any ideas for that, so I gave her some (from things I've done with my daughter, things I've done with Primary classes, things I remember from preschool, etc.) Well, she mentioned them to the lady in charge of the program, and they were discussing paying me to teach some of the teachers so they wouldn't have to hire a really expensive person to do it. But my almost-step-mom and I were talking in the car today (on the way home from the kids' program at Descanso we go to-- she gives us a ride, since we're a one-car family) and it emerged that I would love to teach that class, have experience with groups of that age, and could even bring Emma along (next session starts in January, she'll be almost 3 and Bridey will be old enough to leave for a few hours at a time.) So she's going to bring it up to the lady in charge and then I'll call her and we can chat. If it works out, I'd have a fun way to make a little extra money on Saturdays and also something to plan for and execute that, you know, gets done. I'm kinda psyched, I hope it works out!
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Sittin' Pretty
After months and months of resistance, Emma (who is 30 months old now) has finally taken a step toward potty training.
We were at Target last night. Each time we've gone in the last few months, I've asked her if she wanted any of the potty chairs or seats. Each time the answer has been, "No!"-- until last night. We saw the Sesame Street Soft Potty Seat, which fits on the regular toilet and has Big Bird and Elmo and alphabet letters on it. She said she wanted it. We told her what it does, and told her that if we got it she would have to sit on it. At first she said, "No," but after thinking about it it changed to "Want seat!" Last night she sat on the potty seat (with her feet on her little IKEA step stool) for three minutes or so while we ran water. We intend to do this every night for a while, until she gets acclimated to it and is ready to move on to the next step. And maybe the water running will help her let go and go in the toilet (she has VERY good bladder control, is almost always dry overnight, and informs us before she does anything almost every time.)
Of course, she thinks it's so much fun to sit on now that she's got it in the kitchen floor and is sitting on it while she plays. *giggle*
We were at Target last night. Each time we've gone in the last few months, I've asked her if she wanted any of the potty chairs or seats. Each time the answer has been, "No!"-- until last night. We saw the Sesame Street Soft Potty Seat, which fits on the regular toilet and has Big Bird and Elmo and alphabet letters on it. She said she wanted it. We told her what it does, and told her that if we got it she would have to sit on it. At first she said, "No," but after thinking about it it changed to "Want seat!" Last night she sat on the potty seat (with her feet on her little IKEA step stool) for three minutes or so while we ran water. We intend to do this every night for a while, until she gets acclimated to it and is ready to move on to the next step. And maybe the water running will help her let go and go in the toilet (she has VERY good bladder control, is almost always dry overnight, and informs us before she does anything almost every time.)
Of course, she thinks it's so much fun to sit on now that she's got it in the kitchen floor and is sitting on it while she plays. *giggle*
Saturday, September 23, 2006
What I Fed the Missionaries Tonight
Home-made Lithuanian sausage (made by my dad), cooked with sauerkraut (brown sausages, add garlic and onion, add caraway seeds, add one large jar of extra-crisp sauerkraut, drained, fresh shredded cabbage and carrots or, if you're too lazy and/or busy to shred cabbage, like me, one bag of coleslaw mix, cover and simmer several hours, uncover and simmer some more to reduce juices), home-canned peaches (from my mom's tree), and boiled potatoes with butter and salt (was going to make kugelis, Lithuanian potato pudding, rather like a potato kugel, made with bacon, but got lazy, hot, and tired.) Sour cream to top it all off, of course. For dessert, Emily's Banana Cake, with cream cheese frosting (from a can, again, I was being kinda lazy.)
We're currently sharing missionaries with the Spanish-speaking ward. They were very nice and polite and fun. One is from Virginia, one is from Mexico. Neither had had any kind of Lithuanian food before, and both loved it. So did my husband. So did Emma. So did I, for that matter. :D
We're currently sharing missionaries with the Spanish-speaking ward. They were very nice and polite and fun. One is from Virginia, one is from Mexico. Neither had had any kind of Lithuanian food before, and both loved it. So did my husband. So did Emma. So did I, for that matter. :D
Monday, September 18, 2006
Eeeeeew-- a Product Recommendation
We live in a really cruddy apartment. Things are always falling apart, and the landlord won't fix anything. So we've been having insect problems this summer. I felt like I was in the middle of Lost Boys (but, you know, without the kidnappings and crazy manipulative prophetess lady and psycho home-teachee and southern accents.) First we had a wave of spiders, then one of flies, then ants (who were eating the maggots that were appearing as fast as we could clean them up) and now a week ago roaches started coming in through a hole in the bathroom.
Raid works, but I'm nervous about it being around the kids and cats, seeing as it makes me sick and I'm much bigger than them. So finally we went out and got some Victor Poison-Free aerosol insect killer and also some of their "pheromone technology" crawling insect traps. I just checked the one in the bathroom, and eeeeeeew! Roaches! Nastiness. The good news is that it works. And the spray works, too. Now I can spray flies to my heart's content, without worrying about toxic residue around my babies. Muahahaha! Prepare to DIE, flies!!!
Raid works, but I'm nervous about it being around the kids and cats, seeing as it makes me sick and I'm much bigger than them. So finally we went out and got some Victor Poison-Free aerosol insect killer and also some of their "pheromone technology" crawling insect traps. I just checked the one in the bathroom, and eeeeeeew! Roaches! Nastiness. The good news is that it works. And the spray works, too. Now I can spray flies to my heart's content, without worrying about toxic residue around my babies. Muahahaha! Prepare to DIE, flies!!!
She's Her Grandpa's Girl...
Emma had her first experience with the beach while we were up in Goleta. She was happy to be there, but didn't want to walk and play-- just stare. My dad loves to do the same thing. He likes to just sit and watch the ocean and, as he says, "Be Infinity" for a while. Now Emma won't stop talking about it; every time she sees a picture or just thinks about it or anything, she says, "Emma beach! Emma beach!" And when I tell her that I can't take her, she asks, "Papa Emma beach?" (Papa is her word for Grandpa.) See, I told her that Grandpa likes the beach, too, and maybe he would take her some time.
I'd better see if he has a free Saturday any time soon.
I'd better see if he has a free Saturday any time soon.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Update on Emma's Finger
My dad invited us over for home-made tortillas last night and before we left he checked out the finger. He says that the nail is going to grow in healthy and the old one will drop off, and the slight coldness (it's less now than it was before) is nothing to worry about; enough got taken off that new blood vessels are still being formed, but the finger is getting enough blood in the meantime that nothing bad is going to happen. :)
Monday, September 11, 2006
Awwww. How cute.
We went to Goleta, north of Santa Barbara, this weekend, and stayed with my great-aunt. We also saw my second cousin and his wife and one of my second cousins once removed.
Anyway, we got back tonight, and Bridget was fussy because she wanted to sleep but had some gas in her tummy. So after she was finished nursing and trying to burp, she was fussing a little. Ems brought her a pacifier and sang her a little song, with a tune and words of her own devising:
"Oh, Baby, shhh.
Here go, paci.
Yeah, Emma love Baby.
Shhh, soon night-night."
It was so sweet, I almost wanted to cry.
Anyway, we got back tonight, and Bridget was fussy because she wanted to sleep but had some gas in her tummy. So after she was finished nursing and trying to burp, she was fussing a little. Ems brought her a pacifier and sang her a little song, with a tune and words of her own devising:
"Oh, Baby, shhh.
Here go, paci.
Yeah, Emma love Baby.
Shhh, soon night-night."
It was so sweet, I almost wanted to cry.
Friday, September 08, 2006
I hate that.
I was just about ready to get my insomniac self to bed, when the baby woke.
She kind of wanted to eat, but mostly wanted to play. This is strange behavior for the child who started sleeping 8-10 hours a night at less than 2 months of age, but I suppose not totally unexpected given how much I let her sleep today.
Anyway, I fed her, held her, sang to her, fed her some more, rubbed her back, and put her back down, and now she's out-- and I'm up.
Drat.
She kind of wanted to eat, but mostly wanted to play. This is strange behavior for the child who started sleeping 8-10 hours a night at less than 2 months of age, but I suppose not totally unexpected given how much I let her sleep today.
Anyway, I fed her, held her, sang to her, fed her some more, rubbed her back, and put her back down, and now she's out-- and I'm up.
Drat.
Emma's Finger
I noticed something interesting tonight.
A few weeks back, while I was in the bathroom and my husband was occupied with Bridey, who was screaming her lungs out because she wanted to eat, Ems climbed up and stuck her finger in the electric pencil sharpener (which was up too high for her to reach and which she'd been told "no, that hurts" about several times but which was apparently too attractive to resist, and which now resides in an even more inaccessible spot even though she freaks out whenever anyone goes near it now) and cut off the tip of her finger.
We figured out what had done it after the fact; at first all we knew was that it was bleeding and we couldn't stop it. We rushed her over to my dad's (he lives 5 minutes away, closer than any hospital, and is a doctor, and besides her insurance hadn't kicked in yet at that point) and he, having more experience and more stuff around than we had, was able to stop the bleeding and bandage the finger. Within a week and a half, it was completely healed, although there was something funky going on with her fingernail, we figure(d) that will probably clear up with time.
But tonight I noticed that even though the rest of her hands were very warm, that fingertip was rather cold.
It worries me a little. It doesn't seem to have poor circulation to me, but what do I know? And is there a reason that she keeps saying that she still wants a band-aid on that finger, like it still isn't feeling like the others do? I thought it was just 'cause she liked our Sesame Street band-aids, but maybe it's something more.
She has a physical on the 20th (finally, we've been trying to get her covered through Healthy Families for a YEAR and it finally came through), so I think I'm going to have to ask about it then. *frets, just a little bit*
A few weeks back, while I was in the bathroom and my husband was occupied with Bridey, who was screaming her lungs out because she wanted to eat, Ems climbed up and stuck her finger in the electric pencil sharpener (which was up too high for her to reach and which she'd been told "no, that hurts" about several times but which was apparently too attractive to resist, and which now resides in an even more inaccessible spot even though she freaks out whenever anyone goes near it now) and cut off the tip of her finger.
We figured out what had done it after the fact; at first all we knew was that it was bleeding and we couldn't stop it. We rushed her over to my dad's (he lives 5 minutes away, closer than any hospital, and is a doctor, and besides her insurance hadn't kicked in yet at that point) and he, having more experience and more stuff around than we had, was able to stop the bleeding and bandage the finger. Within a week and a half, it was completely healed, although there was something funky going on with her fingernail, we figure(d) that will probably clear up with time.
But tonight I noticed that even though the rest of her hands were very warm, that fingertip was rather cold.
It worries me a little. It doesn't seem to have poor circulation to me, but what do I know? And is there a reason that she keeps saying that she still wants a band-aid on that finger, like it still isn't feeling like the others do? I thought it was just 'cause she liked our Sesame Street band-aids, but maybe it's something more.
She has a physical on the 20th (finally, we've been trying to get her covered through Healthy Families for a YEAR and it finally came through), so I think I'm going to have to ask about it then. *frets, just a little bit*
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Why? Just why?
I know Emma seems to have inherited my sleep problems (what she says about sleep: sleeping is "happy", but falling asleep is "hard" and "scary"), but this is ridiculous.
She went to sleep, finally, at 4:00 am last night.
And woke at 7:30.
3 1/2 hours of sleep.
And now she can't fall back to sleep.
Why?
She went to sleep, finally, at 4:00 am last night.
And woke at 7:30.
3 1/2 hours of sleep.
And now she can't fall back to sleep.
Why?
Friday, September 01, 2006
Flash Fiction Friday No. 2: "The Finding"
Getting an earlier start on Flash Fiction Friday this week! It seems that even though I have always HATED prompt writing, this is destined to become a regular, if not weekly, thing. Curse you, Laurie, for having such interesting prompts! I have other things I've been wanting to do, you know! :p
The Finding
There are Objects of Power all over the world.
Some are obvious, like the Mayan pyramids or the Stonehenge standing stones or the Nazca Lines of Peru. Some are hidden deep within the ground or lie in dusty back rooms of museums. Some things that many ordinary people think are powerful are not. And then there are some that are hidden in plain sight-- they stand there for all the world to see, but most people don't recognize what they are.
I encountered one such Object last summer, when I was visiting southern Alaska, where my friend moved five years ago.
It looked like most other totems, with its animal shapes carved into weathered wood and decorated with fading paint. It wasn't the oldest one I'd ever seen, nor was it the newest, and it was definitely not the most spectacular. Most people who visited the spot either ignored the totem in favor of the spectacular view, or half-heartedly read the plaque at the bottom, dutifully taking in the cursory information provided about its history.
What the plaque didn't say was that the maker of this particular totem had imbued it with Power. I didn't know who he was, but I felt the Power radiating from the totem, buried deep within, laying dormant until it might be needed. I wondered idly what the maker had needed an Object of Power for, but knew that it was not for me to Know at this time. For all I knew, it had been made by a Far-Seer for me to find, and would play a part in my quest later. In any case, if I was to Know, I would find out in the fullness of Time.
As I watched, I saw a family with several boisterous children tromp noisily up. The children ran eagerly to the totem and exclaimed very loudly over it, drawing disapproving looks from others nearby. The parents tried in vain to contain their energy and direct them to the excellent educational value of the site.
I noticed then that there was another child. A small girl with fine bones held back from her siblings, quietly gazing at the totem. And with a shock, I recognized that she, too had the Sight, the Vision of the Hidden World that comes so rarely, for though it was just beginning to wake in her, she, too felt the Power in this totem. As I looked at her, she turned to gaze at me, and I had another shock. A Knowing passed between us-- a Knowing that we would meet again.
The small girl smiled shyly but somehow assuredly at me, then moved on to join her brothers and sisters as they stormed the Visitors' Center and began to harass the ranger with many questions.
The Finding
There are Objects of Power all over the world.
Some are obvious, like the Mayan pyramids or the Stonehenge standing stones or the Nazca Lines of Peru. Some are hidden deep within the ground or lie in dusty back rooms of museums. Some things that many ordinary people think are powerful are not. And then there are some that are hidden in plain sight-- they stand there for all the world to see, but most people don't recognize what they are.
I encountered one such Object last summer, when I was visiting southern Alaska, where my friend moved five years ago.
It looked like most other totems, with its animal shapes carved into weathered wood and decorated with fading paint. It wasn't the oldest one I'd ever seen, nor was it the newest, and it was definitely not the most spectacular. Most people who visited the spot either ignored the totem in favor of the spectacular view, or half-heartedly read the plaque at the bottom, dutifully taking in the cursory information provided about its history.
What the plaque didn't say was that the maker of this particular totem had imbued it with Power. I didn't know who he was, but I felt the Power radiating from the totem, buried deep within, laying dormant until it might be needed. I wondered idly what the maker had needed an Object of Power for, but knew that it was not for me to Know at this time. For all I knew, it had been made by a Far-Seer for me to find, and would play a part in my quest later. In any case, if I was to Know, I would find out in the fullness of Time.
As I watched, I saw a family with several boisterous children tromp noisily up. The children ran eagerly to the totem and exclaimed very loudly over it, drawing disapproving looks from others nearby. The parents tried in vain to contain their energy and direct them to the excellent educational value of the site.
I noticed then that there was another child. A small girl with fine bones held back from her siblings, quietly gazing at the totem. And with a shock, I recognized that she, too had the Sight, the Vision of the Hidden World that comes so rarely, for though it was just beginning to wake in her, she, too felt the Power in this totem. As I looked at her, she turned to gaze at me, and I had another shock. A Knowing passed between us-- a Knowing that we would meet again.
The small girl smiled shyly but somehow assuredly at me, then moved on to join her brothers and sisters as they stormed the Visitors' Center and began to harass the ranger with many questions.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Flash Fiction Friday No. 1: Crooked
This is for "Flash Fiction Friday," which I'm doing because it looks fun and for no other reason. I'm not usually into writing with a prompt, but the picture grabbed me; I'm not sure how good I'll be at keeping it short, or keeping it fiction and not poetry, but I'll just see what comes out. I'm not sure this will be totally what she had in mind but she told me to do what I wanted, so I will. So there. ;)
Crooked
I stand and gaze at the ancient stones, worn and moss-covered. The building leans, its foundation weakened because it was built on a soft spot and constructed slightly out of true.
Like me, I think.
If the builders had known then how it would look now, would they have picked a different spot to build on? Would they have been more careful in their measurements, in choosing their stones? Or did they not care? Did they only mean the building to be temporary, to be left behind and replaced when they were through and moved on?
I hadn't cared, although I hadn't known what the final damage would be at the time. Sheryl had cared, but she didn't notice the way I leaned or the bogginess of my soul until it was too late.
I bend to tighten my bootlace, then move on.
Crooked
I stand and gaze at the ancient stones, worn and moss-covered. The building leans, its foundation weakened because it was built on a soft spot and constructed slightly out of true.
Like me, I think.
If the builders had known then how it would look now, would they have picked a different spot to build on? Would they have been more careful in their measurements, in choosing their stones? Or did they not care? Did they only mean the building to be temporary, to be left behind and replaced when they were through and moved on?
I hadn't cared, although I hadn't known what the final damage would be at the time. Sheryl had cared, but she didn't notice the way I leaned or the bogginess of my soul until it was too late.
I bend to tighten my bootlace, then move on.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
The Last Kiss: story for Save Hiatus Fanfic Contest
If you haven't heard about it already, check out the Save Hiatus page that Chris Bridges has created. Loyal Hiatians, unite!
On to the story: this story is set during an interlude during one of everyone's favorite episodes, "But Where Was the Other Shoe?" (near the end of Season 1.) It follows the scene when the beautiful Sergeant Lanya Peters has kissed the geeky but adorable Dr. Langdon Ciafalo after a huge fight, then stormed out on him. We look a little deeper into Dr. Ciafalo's back story than we have before, and learn of why he always has that adorable sad longing in his eyes. In the spirit of fanficishness, I will not be editing once I finish the story. Enjoy!
The Last Kiss
The spaceship Venture made its way across the void, traveling through Warp Space as the colors of the twisted space-time continuum swirled outside the windows.
Dr. Ciafalo stood gazing out at the colors that were nothing and yet everything to him, to his life, as he thought about Sergeant Peters' last words to him before she stormed out.
"That's the last kiss you'll be getting for a while once I tell all the girls on this ship what a kreff you are-- and probably the first you've ever had, now that I think of it!"
Ah, Lanya, how little she understood.
Langdon wasn't pursuing any of the women onboard the Venture. He wasn't pursuing women, period. (And no, he wasn't into Rllrians or anything like that. Get your mind out of the gutter!)
It wasn't his fault that he was handsome in his geeky way and so totally sweet to everyone that women onboard and off fell for him right and left. That's just the way he was. And the reason nothing had ever come of their advances wasn't because he wasn't so inclined, or because he was too sweetly naive to know what they were getting at (as some of them supposed.)
Similarly, he hadn't meant that remark about Lanya's butt in a sexual way. He had just been making an observation! It wasn't his fault she had unresolved issues stemming from her teenage years in a military boarding school on Vontius Prime.
Langdon wasn't interested in a relationship because the love of his life had been kidnapped by Rllrians seven years previously.
"Alas, Sarveh!" he thought with a mournful sigh.
Sarveh had been the beautiful daughter of the largest manufacturer of snack foods on his home planet of Sindur. She was far above his station, but she noticed the up-and-coming scientist's work at the university her father was on the board of, anyway.
They fell in love and, despite her father's hostility, were married just 8 years ago. They moved to an outlying world where they hoped to make a life for themselves, he taking a job at the chemical plant, she working at a nursery school.
Alas, only three days after she cooked him a special dinner and told him that she was pregnant with their first child, he heard the sirens warning of an incoming Rllrian raid. He was told later that Sarveh had acted heroically, hunting for a lost child and tossing him to safety in the arms of one of the other workers just seconds before the Rllrian beams swept through to take prisoners. She didn't make it to the underground shelter in time and they had to close the door without her.
Knowing that his wife died a hero didn't ease the pain of knowing that she had been captured. The ones that were captured suffered torture beyond imagining; the Rllrians fed off of fear and pain, and humans were their favorite dish.
And so Dr. Langdon Ciaflo joined the Intergalactic Star Command, vowing to use his scientific prowess to help rid the galaxy of the Rllrians, not because he was brave, not for glory or for kicks, but for his one love-- Sarveh.
He shook his head again, remembering the sweetness of her lips the last time she kissed him goodbye, as they parted on their separate ways to work. "No, Lanya, that was not my first kiss. But you're right about one thing-- it may well have been my last."
Dr. Langdon Ciaflo moved away from the window and put his cup in the recycler, then headed back to his duties.
The spaceship Venture made its way across the void, traveling through Warp Space as the colors of the twisted space-time continuum swirled outside the windows.
On to the story: this story is set during an interlude during one of everyone's favorite episodes, "But Where Was the Other Shoe?" (near the end of Season 1.) It follows the scene when the beautiful Sergeant Lanya Peters has kissed the geeky but adorable Dr. Langdon Ciafalo after a huge fight, then stormed out on him. We look a little deeper into Dr. Ciafalo's back story than we have before, and learn of why he always has that adorable sad longing in his eyes. In the spirit of fanficishness, I will not be editing once I finish the story. Enjoy!
The Last Kiss
The spaceship Venture made its way across the void, traveling through Warp Space as the colors of the twisted space-time continuum swirled outside the windows.
Dr. Ciafalo stood gazing out at the colors that were nothing and yet everything to him, to his life, as he thought about Sergeant Peters' last words to him before she stormed out.
"That's the last kiss you'll be getting for a while once I tell all the girls on this ship what a kreff you are-- and probably the first you've ever had, now that I think of it!"
Ah, Lanya, how little she understood.
Langdon wasn't pursuing any of the women onboard the Venture. He wasn't pursuing women, period. (And no, he wasn't into Rllrians or anything like that. Get your mind out of the gutter!)
It wasn't his fault that he was handsome in his geeky way and so totally sweet to everyone that women onboard and off fell for him right and left. That's just the way he was. And the reason nothing had ever come of their advances wasn't because he wasn't so inclined, or because he was too sweetly naive to know what they were getting at (as some of them supposed.)
Similarly, he hadn't meant that remark about Lanya's butt in a sexual way. He had just been making an observation! It wasn't his fault she had unresolved issues stemming from her teenage years in a military boarding school on Vontius Prime.
Langdon wasn't interested in a relationship because the love of his life had been kidnapped by Rllrians seven years previously.
"Alas, Sarveh!" he thought with a mournful sigh.
Sarveh had been the beautiful daughter of the largest manufacturer of snack foods on his home planet of Sindur. She was far above his station, but she noticed the up-and-coming scientist's work at the university her father was on the board of, anyway.
They fell in love and, despite her father's hostility, were married just 8 years ago. They moved to an outlying world where they hoped to make a life for themselves, he taking a job at the chemical plant, she working at a nursery school.
Alas, only three days after she cooked him a special dinner and told him that she was pregnant with their first child, he heard the sirens warning of an incoming Rllrian raid. He was told later that Sarveh had acted heroically, hunting for a lost child and tossing him to safety in the arms of one of the other workers just seconds before the Rllrian beams swept through to take prisoners. She didn't make it to the underground shelter in time and they had to close the door without her.
Knowing that his wife died a hero didn't ease the pain of knowing that she had been captured. The ones that were captured suffered torture beyond imagining; the Rllrians fed off of fear and pain, and humans were their favorite dish.
And so Dr. Langdon Ciaflo joined the Intergalactic Star Command, vowing to use his scientific prowess to help rid the galaxy of the Rllrians, not because he was brave, not for glory or for kicks, but for his one love-- Sarveh.
He shook his head again, remembering the sweetness of her lips the last time she kissed him goodbye, as they parted on their separate ways to work. "No, Lanya, that was not my first kiss. But you're right about one thing-- it may well have been my last."
Dr. Langdon Ciaflo moved away from the window and put his cup in the recycler, then headed back to his duties.
The spaceship Venture made its way across the void, traveling through Warp Space as the colors of the twisted space-time continuum swirled outside the windows.
Monday, August 28, 2006
More personal info
The new IUD is in (huge sigh of relief that I'm not pregnant!)
I'm having a little cramping but nothing too horrible. Apparently my cervix is very much tilted, so my doctor prepared me for the possibility that this one will come out, too. Fingers crossed that it won't, though.
I'm having a little cramping but nothing too horrible. Apparently my cervix is very much tilted, so my doctor prepared me for the possibility that this one will come out, too. Fingers crossed that it won't, though.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Awww!
Husband mine was holding Bridget when I walked out, and she smiled and held her arms out to me! So cute!
I've got lots to post, but haven't been feeling up to it. I hope I will soon. :)
I've got lots to post, but haven't been feeling up to it. I hope I will soon. :)
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Portraits of Bridget
We got some portraits done at Sears a few weeks back. Emma was supposed to be in them, too, but didn't cooperate, so it ended up being just Bridey. I thought they turned out pretty nice, so I decided to share. :) (That's the dress she was blessed in, btw.)
Friday, August 11, 2006
Well... (Possible TMI warning)
The IUD is out.
A month ago I got an IUD put in (ParaGard); being uninsured, I paid $450 for this ($350 for the IUD, $100 for the insertion.) I can't have hormonal bc of any type, so we were really excited about this option (Bridget, much as we love her, was conceived when a condom failed.) I was really worried about the insertion, having had previous problems with heavy cramping and bleeding, so I got a blessing before I went. In it, my husband blessed me that all would go well with the procedure (he was kinda vague as our home teacher was over helping with the blessing; I didn't want to get into our reproductive history with a young man our age, even though he also has two kids, so we just told him I was having a "minor procedure" done the next day and I just wanted a blessing because I was worried about complications; I know, I'm fine sharing with internet strangers but not a member of our ward, go figure), that my body would be healthy, that I would have minimal pain, and that the procedure would be effective. And the insertion went great! I did indeed have all the "some people may experience" immediate aftereffects-- dizziness, weakness, and blackouts-- but there was minimal cramping, and after lying on the table for five or so minutes, I was good again. I had a tiny bit of cramping, not as bad as with my period, and a little spotting the next day or two, but by the day after I was fine going to Disneyland, with no ill effects other than some PMS-like emotional symptoms. So I was thinking what a great thing this IUD was, and that it was really going to work out.
So I went in yesterday for a one-month check, just to make sure it was still positioned right (my doctor is really good and very experienced and I trust him when he says it was positioned correctly when it went in.) With the usual "Ow!" and wincing as he got ready to check it, I was as relaxed as is possible in that situation as he said, "So, we'll check this, and then it should be fine and you won't need to come in again for it, just call us if you have any problems." Then, as he actually got a look, I heard the words you don't want to hear: "Oh, my. This is unusual."
Apparently, the IUD had come half out and stuck. He said he's only seen that two or three times in all his years of practice; usually if it's going to be expelled, it gets all the way expelled. "So we're going to give you a pregnancy test today, just in case, and then come back in a week or two and we'll do another and replace the IUD. The company stands behind their product, I'll call them and they'll replace it and pay for the insertion so you don't have to pay again." So I peed in a cup before I left; they usually give the results of pregnancy tests right away but they were about to go to lunch so the doctor said they'd call with the results.
They didn't call. I don't know if he forgot to tell them or they forgot to call or what, but they didn't call. By the time I called this afternoon, they were closed for the weekend; I forgot that they close at 1 on Fridays. I can't deal with the nerve-wracking-ness, so I went to the dollar store to pick up a home test. No luck, they usually have them but were out. So we went to a late lunch at Bronco, where they have good Mexican food and also horchata to drink. (Ems and I are both horchata lovers, and it was a hot day.) Their ATM was broken, and they're cash-only. Grrr. Not my day. So I went down the street to Bank of America, where they charge more than the pay-for-ATM that Bronco has, and used theirs. Whatever. By the time we got back to Bronco, I was really ready for it. We shared a chicken burrito and each had a cup of horchata and some chips. Mmmm. So I came back home, and having given up, called and left a voicemail for Ketchup Prince Consort saying that I needed him to pick up a pregnancy test or two on the way home; he's as nervous as I am about this, even though, as my mom says, the chances are very small that I'd actually be pregnant.
But at least I got a laugh out of it; husband mine knows just what to say. I called him at work yesterday to tell him what was going on and when he heard, he said, "If you're pregnant, I want my money back!" Just the right thing to make me laugh and break the tension. I love that man.
A month ago I got an IUD put in (ParaGard); being uninsured, I paid $450 for this ($350 for the IUD, $100 for the insertion.) I can't have hormonal bc of any type, so we were really excited about this option (Bridget, much as we love her, was conceived when a condom failed.) I was really worried about the insertion, having had previous problems with heavy cramping and bleeding, so I got a blessing before I went. In it, my husband blessed me that all would go well with the procedure (he was kinda vague as our home teacher was over helping with the blessing; I didn't want to get into our reproductive history with a young man our age, even though he also has two kids, so we just told him I was having a "minor procedure" done the next day and I just wanted a blessing because I was worried about complications; I know, I'm fine sharing with internet strangers but not a member of our ward, go figure), that my body would be healthy, that I would have minimal pain, and that the procedure would be effective. And the insertion went great! I did indeed have all the "some people may experience" immediate aftereffects-- dizziness, weakness, and blackouts-- but there was minimal cramping, and after lying on the table for five or so minutes, I was good again. I had a tiny bit of cramping, not as bad as with my period, and a little spotting the next day or two, but by the day after I was fine going to Disneyland, with no ill effects other than some PMS-like emotional symptoms. So I was thinking what a great thing this IUD was, and that it was really going to work out.
So I went in yesterday for a one-month check, just to make sure it was still positioned right (my doctor is really good and very experienced and I trust him when he says it was positioned correctly when it went in.) With the usual "Ow!" and wincing as he got ready to check it, I was as relaxed as is possible in that situation as he said, "So, we'll check this, and then it should be fine and you won't need to come in again for it, just call us if you have any problems." Then, as he actually got a look, I heard the words you don't want to hear: "Oh, my. This is unusual."
Apparently, the IUD had come half out and stuck. He said he's only seen that two or three times in all his years of practice; usually if it's going to be expelled, it gets all the way expelled. "So we're going to give you a pregnancy test today, just in case, and then come back in a week or two and we'll do another and replace the IUD. The company stands behind their product, I'll call them and they'll replace it and pay for the insertion so you don't have to pay again." So I peed in a cup before I left; they usually give the results of pregnancy tests right away but they were about to go to lunch so the doctor said they'd call with the results.
They didn't call. I don't know if he forgot to tell them or they forgot to call or what, but they didn't call. By the time I called this afternoon, they were closed for the weekend; I forgot that they close at 1 on Fridays. I can't deal with the nerve-wracking-ness, so I went to the dollar store to pick up a home test. No luck, they usually have them but were out. So we went to a late lunch at Bronco, where they have good Mexican food and also horchata to drink. (Ems and I are both horchata lovers, and it was a hot day.) Their ATM was broken, and they're cash-only. Grrr. Not my day. So I went down the street to Bank of America, where they charge more than the pay-for-ATM that Bronco has, and used theirs. Whatever. By the time we got back to Bronco, I was really ready for it. We shared a chicken burrito and each had a cup of horchata and some chips. Mmmm. So I came back home, and having given up, called and left a voicemail for Ketchup Prince Consort saying that I needed him to pick up a pregnancy test or two on the way home; he's as nervous as I am about this, even though, as my mom says, the chances are very small that I'd actually be pregnant.
But at least I got a laugh out of it; husband mine knows just what to say. I called him at work yesterday to tell him what was going on and when he heard, he said, "If you're pregnant, I want my money back!" Just the right thing to make me laugh and break the tension. I love that man.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Mountain Lion!
Right by my apartment-- okay, not right by, but pretty close, and only a block or so from the park I walked the girls to today.
I wasn't too worried; I heard about it from a neighbor as I was leaving (that's why those helicopters were circling incessantly for two hours!), but I figured if there was danger they would clear out the park or stop me from entering. And there wasn't, and they didn't. It did create a traffic snarl, though. My husband had to detour when he got off the freeway coming home. They still had the area roped off (for the prints, I suppose) when we got home after our errands tonight, about 10:20.
Of course, when a boy and girl, about 9 and 12, playing on the equipment overheard from somebody else in the park that they had brought in an Animal Control truck with a cage, they ran past me and the woman sitting next to me on the bench (who was their mother), yelling, "Bye, mom! We're going to go see the mountain lion! They've got a cage to catch it with!" Whereupon she jumped up and started vehemently (in Spanish) forbidding them to do anything of the sort. It was quite amusing; I remember the days when the chance to see a mountain lion would have seemed a grand adventure to me, too.
I wasn't too worried; I heard about it from a neighbor as I was leaving (that's why those helicopters were circling incessantly for two hours!), but I figured if there was danger they would clear out the park or stop me from entering. And there wasn't, and they didn't. It did create a traffic snarl, though. My husband had to detour when he got off the freeway coming home. They still had the area roped off (for the prints, I suppose) when we got home after our errands tonight, about 10:20.
Of course, when a boy and girl, about 9 and 12, playing on the equipment overheard from somebody else in the park that they had brought in an Animal Control truck with a cage, they ran past me and the woman sitting next to me on the bench (who was their mother), yelling, "Bye, mom! We're going to go see the mountain lion! They've got a cage to catch it with!" Whereupon she jumped up and started vehemently (in Spanish) forbidding them to do anything of the sort. It was quite amusing; I remember the days when the chance to see a mountain lion would have seemed a grand adventure to me, too.
Pics of the famous cake-cutting
The famous cake itself-- it was delicious. How could it not be? It was from Porto's.
That's Meg, looking somehow like Mom but also very beautiful.
That's a great goofy shot of Megan and Reggie!
The actual cutting...
...and immediately after, before the frosting-slinging began. ;)
Those are among the first pics I've received, if I get any more I may post them, too. :)
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Megan's Wedding
So, my sister (half-sister, same mom, whatever; we grew up like "whole" sisters, as I used to say) Megan got married. The wedding was nice; a little amusing (my sister didn't start crying until she got to the "I promise to be kind and forbearing" part of the vows, lol), a little sweet (they both looked just thrilled coming down the aisle), and they did this thing with salt that was... interesting. Apparently their church (First Christian Church of North Hollywood) has "open communion"; "anyone who wishes to do so may take communion, understanding that it is a symbol of God's grace and love" (or something to that effect.) I felt a little awkward being, as far as I could see, the only one in the church who refused the communion (my husband had taken a crying baby out and didn't return until the communion was done.) The usher looked a little surprised when he held the bread out to me and I shook my head and said, "No thanks," as quietly and politely as I could manage. But it was only a small moment of awkwardness, I'm pretty sure I wasn't taken for rude or anything. It's so hard to know what to do in those situations; the only thing I could think to do was just politely shake my head and quietly decline. It wasn't like the Catholic, Lutheran, or Episcopalian churches, where you can just not go up, so it was a little more difficult for me to know how to be polite. But I think I managed. And I remembered the conventions of when to stand and when to sit while the bride entered and the couple left, etc., so I thought I was doing pretty well, on the whole. Jeff noticed just as we sat down in the sanctuary that a yellow poopy diaper had leaked on his dark grey pants; oops. Luckily, I had a Tide To Go in my purse. Took it right off.
Afterwards, we had pictures, then proceeded to the reception hall (actually, I ran up with my sister and cousin to bustle her train first. It wasn't hard, it had a button and then just needed to be draped.)
Then we waited for food. And waited for food. And waited. Apparently she had hired her friend, who has catered parties before but never an event this big, and, well, he wasn't all that prepared. Oops. The tables never did get cleared away for dancing; Emma was the only one who danced (okay, I danced with her some), and she wore herself out dancing like crazy. Everyone was much amused. When the food finally came (it was wonderful, it just took a long time), she inhaled half of a large half chicken breast, some potatoes, and some zucchini, then climbed in Jeff's lap while chewing the last bite-- and promptly fell asleep! Megan had, at this point, changed into street clothes, needing a break from her very gorgeous but heavy dress. When the last tables finally got their food, people had already started leaving. Oh, well. Megan went and changed back into her dress, she and Reggie posed for pictures and they cut the first slice of cake and mushed it into each other's faces. Then there was a moment of milling confusion as Megan ducked out to wash the frosting off-- and everyone noticed that no one was cutting the cake. Since Megan had no maid of honor or bridesmaids, who would generally be in charge of the cake cutting and distribution, there was a bit of confusion as to what to do. Finally, I stepped up and said, "Here, someone get the plates out, and I'll cut the cake." Since no one objected, I got the job. Sharon, Megan's stepmother, looked like she would have volunteered if she wasn't unsure what to do with a wedding cake. Luckily, I've assisted in enough cake cuttings that I know what to do with a wedding cake and a cake server when I see them. She ventured, "Shall we cut from the bottom here so the top stays intact?" I knew the answer to this one! I swept the idea aside with a grand, "No, we have to take the top off first. Get me a fork, I'll get it off." I removed the orchids and berries from around the bottom of the top layer of the cake while a fork and plate were procured, then lifted the cake. Sharon tugged at the deeply embedded pillar support until it came out, and I set the top layer out, removed the cardboard piece and the next four pillar supports, and set to work. Within five minutes I had the entire middle layer and a third of the bottom cut and on plates (someone fetched more plates halfway or so through), and people swarmed the table to take them. Thank you, Heather (my sister in law), for showing me how to properly and efficiently cut a large layered wedding cake! My sister (half-sister, same mother, whatever) Erin said, "Wow, Anne, where did you learn to cut wedding cakes?" I said, "Oh, I've apprenticed at several receptions, you learn as you go." But everyone was really impressed and extremely appreciative, especially Megan, who thanked me over and over and was just so grateful that someone stepped in and took charge. I told her, "It was really no big deal." And it wasn't. But I do like to be useful, and I like it when people appreciate my skills, simple though they may be.
Anyway, we got home after 5 (after leaving home at a little after 10), ready to be in for the night. But it was worth it; hopefully, your sister's wedding only happens once (at least, hopefully only once for each sister.) I hope they're very happy together and get along as well as Jeff and I do. I love weddings as much as the next gal, and so I was glad to get to go, but even more, I love happy marriages, especially of people I love. Here's to love, may it always increase.
Afterwards, we had pictures, then proceeded to the reception hall (actually, I ran up with my sister and cousin to bustle her train first. It wasn't hard, it had a button and then just needed to be draped.)
Then we waited for food. And waited for food. And waited. Apparently she had hired her friend, who has catered parties before but never an event this big, and, well, he wasn't all that prepared. Oops. The tables never did get cleared away for dancing; Emma was the only one who danced (okay, I danced with her some), and she wore herself out dancing like crazy. Everyone was much amused. When the food finally came (it was wonderful, it just took a long time), she inhaled half of a large half chicken breast, some potatoes, and some zucchini, then climbed in Jeff's lap while chewing the last bite-- and promptly fell asleep! Megan had, at this point, changed into street clothes, needing a break from her very gorgeous but heavy dress. When the last tables finally got their food, people had already started leaving. Oh, well. Megan went and changed back into her dress, she and Reggie posed for pictures and they cut the first slice of cake and mushed it into each other's faces. Then there was a moment of milling confusion as Megan ducked out to wash the frosting off-- and everyone noticed that no one was cutting the cake. Since Megan had no maid of honor or bridesmaids, who would generally be in charge of the cake cutting and distribution, there was a bit of confusion as to what to do. Finally, I stepped up and said, "Here, someone get the plates out, and I'll cut the cake." Since no one objected, I got the job. Sharon, Megan's stepmother, looked like she would have volunteered if she wasn't unsure what to do with a wedding cake. Luckily, I've assisted in enough cake cuttings that I know what to do with a wedding cake and a cake server when I see them. She ventured, "Shall we cut from the bottom here so the top stays intact?" I knew the answer to this one! I swept the idea aside with a grand, "No, we have to take the top off first. Get me a fork, I'll get it off." I removed the orchids and berries from around the bottom of the top layer of the cake while a fork and plate were procured, then lifted the cake. Sharon tugged at the deeply embedded pillar support until it came out, and I set the top layer out, removed the cardboard piece and the next four pillar supports, and set to work. Within five minutes I had the entire middle layer and a third of the bottom cut and on plates (someone fetched more plates halfway or so through), and people swarmed the table to take them. Thank you, Heather (my sister in law), for showing me how to properly and efficiently cut a large layered wedding cake! My sister (half-sister, same mother, whatever) Erin said, "Wow, Anne, where did you learn to cut wedding cakes?" I said, "Oh, I've apprenticed at several receptions, you learn as you go." But everyone was really impressed and extremely appreciative, especially Megan, who thanked me over and over and was just so grateful that someone stepped in and took charge. I told her, "It was really no big deal." And it wasn't. But I do like to be useful, and I like it when people appreciate my skills, simple though they may be.
Anyway, we got home after 5 (after leaving home at a little after 10), ready to be in for the night. But it was worth it; hopefully, your sister's wedding only happens once (at least, hopefully only once for each sister.) I hope they're very happy together and get along as well as Jeff and I do. I love weddings as much as the next gal, and so I was glad to get to go, but even more, I love happy marriages, especially of people I love. Here's to love, may it always increase.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)