Well, still no baby yet. Plenty of activity going on, but with no end result. I always said I wanted the baby to be born today. There's something about the symmetry of having three birthdays in a row that are all exactly two weeks apart just tickles me the right way. Hopefully, I'll have more reason for posting soon, but until then, the waiting is the hardest part.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
We Do Science! In the Kitchen
Yesterday, I was sitting in my office with one of my coworkers and the trainer for our new software system when my phone buzzed from an incoming text message. Being as jumpy as I am right now (Brandi did have about 2 hours of contractions last night with an 18-minute break in teh middle before they died down and we went to bed), I checked the message immdeiately. My reaction: "Oh no."
My coworker and the trainer both looked at me with excited expressions. "What!?"
"It's not baby related," I said. "This is what Brandi just texted me."
omg, dad just microwaved the hell out of the bowl full
of grapes thinking it was the leftover spaghetti! laughing so hard im
crying
Apparently, he was looking in the fridge for the spaghetti, felt the stems of the grapes in the bowl, thought I had left the spaghetti in the fridge uncovered and the noodles had all dried out. So he "microwaved the hell out of it" and only found out when it was done that it was the grapes he just irradiated. Here I'm thinking that I'll be cleaning grape goo out of the microwave when I get home.
Turns out the grapes didn't explode, they just got all brown and gross looking like they'd been left out on a table for a week. What we learned, though, is that you cannot make rasins in the microwave. It's grapes and sunshine people, just the the Sunmaid people want you to think.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Ten Openers
A little while ago, one of my online friends said she'd hit the bottom of the creative well. There were some solutions bandied about and then the wise Dr. Phil (physics) recommended an exercise he picked up at Clarion. Write ten short-story first sentences in ten minutes. Write the first sentence only and don't edit, trying to incorporate the things you like to write about.
Jeri had some really good ones, and I've been thinking about doing it ever since. Then yesterday, Eric started talking about short stories and had a little game going, asking readers to contribute six-word short stories in the comments. So this morning, since it's hard to concentrate on anything for any length of time, I decided to go ahead and do it. I've been thinking about getting back into writing again for some time, and I keep telling myself that when the baby comes and I'm off work for a couple weeks, I'll do some writing, so hopefully this will kick things off. I'm totally satisfied with all of them, but there are a few in there that I like.
1. With the clerk's mouth magiced closed, Merlin could browse the blenders in peace.
2. "I don't care what you were told," the head custodian said. "Botched science experiments have their own dumpster!"
3. HeroMan spotted the criminals with his super-human vision and launched himself off the building, however, he forgot to activate the control module on his flight pack.
4. Dr. Stenner, veteranarian, looked at the chart one more time before beginning the operation; he had to triple check the procedure before he neutered the Wolfman.
5. Dead air hissed from the radio, and Gertrude as at the very edge of sleep when a voice called to her through the airwaves.
6. The monkeys had never shown that kind of behavior in test conditions before.
7. As a last ditch effort, calamatous Sam Winston set the homing beacon for his location, forgetting that he was completely outside the frequency range of the rest of his squad.
8. "If at first you don't succeed, add some more eye of newt," Wyatt the Wonderous told his captive audience of 6-year-olds.
9. Connor ducked behind the fallen tree as another volley of arrows flashed by in the space where his head had just been.
10. "All I need is a flashlight and a length of rope, and I'll get your bigfoot situation all cleared up ma'am."
Jeri had some really good ones, and I've been thinking about doing it ever since. Then yesterday, Eric started talking about short stories and had a little game going, asking readers to contribute six-word short stories in the comments. So this morning, since it's hard to concentrate on anything for any length of time, I decided to go ahead and do it. I've been thinking about getting back into writing again for some time, and I keep telling myself that when the baby comes and I'm off work for a couple weeks, I'll do some writing, so hopefully this will kick things off. I'm totally satisfied with all of them, but there are a few in there that I like.
1. With the clerk's mouth magiced closed, Merlin could browse the blenders in peace.
2. "I don't care what you were told," the head custodian said. "Botched science experiments have their own dumpster!"
3. HeroMan spotted the criminals with his super-human vision and launched himself off the building, however, he forgot to activate the control module on his flight pack.
4. Dr. Stenner, veteranarian, looked at the chart one more time before beginning the operation; he had to triple check the procedure before he neutered the Wolfman.
5. Dead air hissed from the radio, and Gertrude as at the very edge of sleep when a voice called to her through the airwaves.
6. The monkeys had never shown that kind of behavior in test conditions before.
7. As a last ditch effort, calamatous Sam Winston set the homing beacon for his location, forgetting that he was completely outside the frequency range of the rest of his squad.
8. "If at first you don't succeed, add some more eye of newt," Wyatt the Wonderous told his captive audience of 6-year-olds.
9. Connor ducked behind the fallen tree as another volley of arrows flashed by in the space where his head had just been.
10. "All I need is a flashlight and a length of rope, and I'll get your bigfoot situation all cleared up ma'am."
Friday, September 18, 2009
Any Day Now
Brandi's official due date for the baby is now 12 days away. She went a day late with Logan, but is getting a lot of contractions now, some strong enough and close enough together to actually look at the clock last night. She doesn't seem to be to stressed about the wait, but the anticipation is killing me. And any time I ask her how she's feeling, I get a one-word response, which is usually "tired." I'm sorry, but at this stage of the game, a one-word response isn't going to cut it. I need details.
At least this time around, work is much closer to home, and home is much closer to the hospital.
At least this time around, work is much closer to home, and home is much closer to the hospital.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Adventures in Parenting: Three Unfortunate Firsts
Yesterday I was busy at work, sucks to work the Sunday before Labor day, but so it goes. Right now I'm on high alert for the call that says 'It's time to go to the hospital.' So when I saw my phone number pop up on caller ID, I was ready to move. I never imagined we'd have to go to the hospital for another reason.
I pick up the phone, knowing it's Brandi. In the background Logan is wailing at the top of his lungs and I can barely hear Brandi. After putting my finger to my ear, I'm able to hear that Logan has gotten a dog bite. Does he need to go to the hospital? Yes, he does, and I need to get home. I rush to the back and call my assistant manager to come in and finish my shift. She sounds really disappointed that I've called her in, but I really don't have any other options.
I get in the car and call Brandi back. Apparently, her dad and grandparents had just gotten back from the Farm, and Logan was playing hopscotch on the driveway. Her grandparent's dog was near him, they're bussom buddies after all, and Logan fell on her. She reacted as any hurt/startled dog would and snapped at him. She bit him in the mouth and scratched him on the face under his eye. It's not clear if she scratched him with her teeth or claws. Brandi cleaned up the blood and tried to calm him down as best she could while I flew home. I found out later that Brandi's grandfather was telling Logan to stop crying, as if that would work.
Logan starts crying again when he sees me pull into the driveway, and 30 seconds after I get home, we're on the move to the ER. The bleeding's stopped, but he has a decent cut on the outside of his lip, and we're not sure about the inside of his mouth.
At the ER they get us into the room within a few minutes and after a little while, the doctor comes in to give an initial look. He says it should be two stitches on the outside and none on the inside. Then a couple of nurses come in to put some antibiotic/numbing ointment on and then they tell us that after about a half hour they'll come back to do stitches. Over an hour later a nurse comes in with a doctor.
Logan's fallen asleep by this point, but wakes up when we set him down on the table. He's angry and hurt and tired and scared and all he wants to do is go home. Instead, they pull out this padded board with ginormous Velcro straps to hold him down. Brandi and I have to hold down his arms and he's screaming "Help Daddy" "Help Mommy." We watch in stunned silence as the doctor puts multiple injections of a local anesthetic in both sides of his lip and then starts to do the stitches. The nurse his holding his head down and Logan, a big two-year-old is straining with all his might. I try to whisper in his ear that he's being a good boy and that we'll be able to leave soon to little effect. All his straining and moving makes it all the more difficult for the doctor to do his work and the stitches take a few minutes more than they'd need to. When all's said and done, he got six stitches, three outside his lip and three inside. With all the swelling and the scratches on his face, he looks more like he got into a bar brawl than he got bit by a dog.
After the stitches and the prescription for antibiotics, the nurses try to give him some Sesame Street stickers and a dragon Beanie Baby. He wants neither. He just wants to go home and he's crying and pointing at any door that looks like it might lead outside. The whole ER process only took 3 frickin hours.
All the fussing and struggling and crying wore him out and once he's in bed, he sleeps without a peep until 6 this morning and then I get him to go back to bed for another hour and a half.
Brandi's grandparents came over this morning, sans Cujo, and Logan's in high spirits and excited to see them. We'll give it a couple days before he sees Daisy again. It sucks that he had to go through all that and I'm worried that now he'll be scared of dogs, which he never was before. The internal stitches will dissolve, and we'll have to go to his doctor on Friday to get the others removed. Good thing I already had that day off of work. What a weekend.
I pick up the phone, knowing it's Brandi. In the background Logan is wailing at the top of his lungs and I can barely hear Brandi. After putting my finger to my ear, I'm able to hear that Logan has gotten a dog bite. Does he need to go to the hospital? Yes, he does, and I need to get home. I rush to the back and call my assistant manager to come in and finish my shift. She sounds really disappointed that I've called her in, but I really don't have any other options.
I get in the car and call Brandi back. Apparently, her dad and grandparents had just gotten back from the Farm, and Logan was playing hopscotch on the driveway. Her grandparent's dog was near him, they're bussom buddies after all, and Logan fell on her. She reacted as any hurt/startled dog would and snapped at him. She bit him in the mouth and scratched him on the face under his eye. It's not clear if she scratched him with her teeth or claws. Brandi cleaned up the blood and tried to calm him down as best she could while I flew home. I found out later that Brandi's grandfather was telling Logan to stop crying, as if that would work.
Logan starts crying again when he sees me pull into the driveway, and 30 seconds after I get home, we're on the move to the ER. The bleeding's stopped, but he has a decent cut on the outside of his lip, and we're not sure about the inside of his mouth.
At the ER they get us into the room within a few minutes and after a little while, the doctor comes in to give an initial look. He says it should be two stitches on the outside and none on the inside. Then a couple of nurses come in to put some antibiotic/numbing ointment on and then they tell us that after about a half hour they'll come back to do stitches. Over an hour later a nurse comes in with a doctor.
Logan's fallen asleep by this point, but wakes up when we set him down on the table. He's angry and hurt and tired and scared and all he wants to do is go home. Instead, they pull out this padded board with ginormous Velcro straps to hold him down. Brandi and I have to hold down his arms and he's screaming "Help Daddy" "Help Mommy." We watch in stunned silence as the doctor puts multiple injections of a local anesthetic in both sides of his lip and then starts to do the stitches. The nurse his holding his head down and Logan, a big two-year-old is straining with all his might. I try to whisper in his ear that he's being a good boy and that we'll be able to leave soon to little effect. All his straining and moving makes it all the more difficult for the doctor to do his work and the stitches take a few minutes more than they'd need to. When all's said and done, he got six stitches, three outside his lip and three inside. With all the swelling and the scratches on his face, he looks more like he got into a bar brawl than he got bit by a dog.
After the stitches and the prescription for antibiotics, the nurses try to give him some Sesame Street stickers and a dragon Beanie Baby. He wants neither. He just wants to go home and he's crying and pointing at any door that looks like it might lead outside. The whole ER process only took 3 frickin hours.
All the fussing and struggling and crying wore him out and once he's in bed, he sleeps without a peep until 6 this morning and then I get him to go back to bed for another hour and a half.
Brandi's grandparents came over this morning, sans Cujo, and Logan's in high spirits and excited to see them. We'll give it a couple days before he sees Daisy again. It sucks that he had to go through all that and I'm worried that now he'll be scared of dogs, which he never was before. The internal stitches will dissolve, and we'll have to go to his doctor on Friday to get the others removed. Good thing I already had that day off of work. What a weekend.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The Binky Fairy Giveth, The Binky Fairy Taketh Away
Last Saturday, the "Binky Fairy" made a stop at our house and took Logan's binkies/plugs/pacies/*insert cutsie name here* away for good. We've been weening him off of them for a while, throwing them away when they get nasty and encouraging him to take it out or taking it away during the day, but we finally came to the point when we needed to take them away completely. We also wanted to give him at least a month or so before the new baby's here so that hopefully he won't be feeling dependent on the plug if the baby takes one.
So Saturday morning, before Gymboree, the plugs were rounded up and stuck into a large envelope addressed to the Binky Fairy. He and Brandi put the envelope into the mail slot, and then he and I left for Gymboree. Brandi threw out the plugs and then went to pick out and wrap a new toy for him. Apparently, the Binky Fairy operates much like the Tooth Fairy. They're probably related, as there's a lot of that kind of interbreeding stuff going on in the Fairy community, or so I've heard.
Logan did pretty well for a while, but about halfway through Gymboree we had a major meltdown and he wanted to go home. Not even the temptation of getting fries after Gymboree if we stayed for the whole thing would assuage his meltdown. On the way home he repeatedly asked for his Binky, wailing "Binkyyyyy," and when I told him the Binky Fairy had come to take them away he screamed "Noooo!" He was sure to go through the list in the car too, "White Binky...Blue Binky...Nemo Binky."
When we got home and he saw and opened the toy, a sweet Imaginex Helicopter, he was less whiny. It didn't hurt that Brandi got a couple suckers to go with it too. Cool Transformers G1 type suckers. I was a little jealous.
The rest of the weekend went pretty smoothly as far as tantrums and binky-based meltdowns went. Monday morning we experienced meltdown number 2. His therapist was over, and while Logan was climbing into one of his favorite hiding places, he very lightly bonked the back of his head. Oh man, did that set off the waterworks. He didn't want to cooperate with the therapist for the rest of the session.
Later, we went to the store, and while he and I waited in the car because he'd been crying in the store, he continued to cry and it drove me a little nuts. What are you going to do though?
There's still one plug that we couldn't find in the house to ship away to the Binky Fairy and while we think it's stuck behind the bed somewhere, we're waiting for Logan to come walking through the living room with it one day with a smug grin on his face.
So Saturday morning, before Gymboree, the plugs were rounded up and stuck into a large envelope addressed to the Binky Fairy. He and Brandi put the envelope into the mail slot, and then he and I left for Gymboree. Brandi threw out the plugs and then went to pick out and wrap a new toy for him. Apparently, the Binky Fairy operates much like the Tooth Fairy. They're probably related, as there's a lot of that kind of interbreeding stuff going on in the Fairy community, or so I've heard.
Logan did pretty well for a while, but about halfway through Gymboree we had a major meltdown and he wanted to go home. Not even the temptation of getting fries after Gymboree if we stayed for the whole thing would assuage his meltdown. On the way home he repeatedly asked for his Binky, wailing "Binkyyyyy," and when I told him the Binky Fairy had come to take them away he screamed "Noooo!" He was sure to go through the list in the car too, "White Binky...Blue Binky...Nemo Binky."
When we got home and he saw and opened the toy, a sweet Imaginex Helicopter, he was less whiny. It didn't hurt that Brandi got a couple suckers to go with it too. Cool Transformers G1 type suckers. I was a little jealous.
The rest of the weekend went pretty smoothly as far as tantrums and binky-based meltdowns went. Monday morning we experienced meltdown number 2. His therapist was over, and while Logan was climbing into one of his favorite hiding places, he very lightly bonked the back of his head. Oh man, did that set off the waterworks. He didn't want to cooperate with the therapist for the rest of the session.
Later, we went to the store, and while he and I waited in the car because he'd been crying in the store, he continued to cry and it drove me a little nuts. What are you going to do though?
There's still one plug that we couldn't find in the house to ship away to the Binky Fairy and while we think it's stuck behind the bed somewhere, we're waiting for Logan to come walking through the living room with it one day with a smug grin on his face.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
