Adventures in housewifery- that's a real word.  I looked it up.  The baby has precariously placed a mug on a stepping stool near the dog bowl so that she can push it over onto an unsuspecting, eating dog.  I see she just missed her chance.

The kitchen smells like vinegar  sheep, and cherry Kool-Aid.  This will teach me to buy superwash wool in the future. Ugh.

I'm dying yarn.  I do it every once in a while just to see what will happen.  This is my 7th attempt.   Some turn out better than others.  I'm making a baby sweater out of one of my creations.  I gave one ball away on a yarn swap.  I redyed one today because it didn't please me the first time.  The new one today . . . well I'm just not sure how that's going to turn out.

I read that white wool makes bright colors and grey/light brown wool will make deeper jewel tones.  I bought this wool yarn the other day in light brown imagining a deep/rich wine color with shades of ruby and deep pink intermixed.  What I think I'll end up with is a molten mess of mauve.  Not to worry I can always redye.

I washed the dishes today, which was about as far as my housewifery went.

I should have folded and put the laundry away, put in another load, vacuumed and organized one of the many projects I have to organize.  Pooh.

I didn't even get up til noon.  I blame the cold and flu meds.

A whole lotta WHAT!!!!?

I just found this in my comments:

Anonymous said...

Story about global warming again on the news.
The gods have the freedom to rapidly accelerate global warming because of unregulated Chinese industrialization. And they are using it.
Whereas US industrial regulation combined with automotive smog devices had contained emmissions, the shameful emmissions at the hand of the Italians which allocated the financing of chinese growth will ultimately kill our planet
The gods must abjectly hate the Italians:::They ruined our cultures, eliminating Old Worlds around the globe, they destroyed our societies and now they will be used to ruin the planet.
Intelligent design:::Everything the gods do has purpose. There was purpose in the Italian boot, the Scandanavian penis, the sheep of Europe and the SFBA Beast. Chinese/Asian slanted eyes is yet another. Designed to make them/some look evil, they are a warning to other races. What is occurring with enviornmental degredation is living proof and may be the reason why they have this appearance.
Never forget the shameful experience we each had in 2008 when the Chinese desperately tried to clean up the envionment in Beijing.

Recall the $5 trillion Republican scam where W set up the evil Democrats to sign the credit card receipt.
Expect some portion of the $5 trillion stolen from the United States creatively went to the Catholic Church, positioned to bitterly complain they lost their affluent white parishoners for poor Latinos and the US is all their doing anyways.
I always suspected there has been a skim on the US General Fund (1/3) all along. And the gods are using these clone host fakes to kill Planet Earth::::The puppeteer pulling the strings, ironically.

Jesus is a false god.
There is no Satan. The world around us is all the god's doing:::You have to be tested with temptation.
Christianity is a test.
Muslim misery? The gods claim they are trying to "help you". The gods control everything, choreograph all that we see, including Isreal's relationship with Palestine, an "obligation" for their money-grubbing acceptance of the Evil Empire's billions. They also control the Italians, victims of the Moorish invasion/rape of their women, positioned in charge of this false reality through Christianity.
The gods created all this to position this reality you experience today.
"Earning" is temptation. It is a lie leading people into Damnation. Any hope of the Muslim world regaining the power they once had is long since over and it will never, ever return. Their acts 0f terrorism are only hurting them in the eyes of the gods.
The gods claim they are trying to "help you", but they also stoked your pride with your regional superpower status of centuries ago, rendering their efforts today merely destructive, a very bad sign. This means the gods have major problems with your people.
Never forget:::The gods work in mysterious ways. A mortal trying to understand may envoke their wrath. You shouldn't need to.

I believe the gods relocated the Jews to another planet before the Holocaust began to give them additional time before Earth fell into the social decay Christianity and the United States is responsible for. I suspect this favor included some/many of the Native America peoples as well.
Unfortunately for Muslims you didn't have the favor necessary to be allowed such generosity. I believe it is due to your mysogyny, your belief women are inferior to the men. This does not include veiling, which is a positive for the people and helps maintain decency within your society.
Orthodoxy is always the best course of action because, as I have repeated, old is mostly good and a little evil, while new is mostly evil and a little good. This applies to Islam as well.

ART

I would like to have time to learn how to draw and paint.

A few years ago an friend and I decided we wanted to paint.  So we bought our (water color) paints, brushes and paper and set off on an adventure.  We went to Austin to paint the capital.  We went to San Antonio to paint the Alamo.  We were terrible.  Really- really terrible.

We decided maybe we should learn how to draw, then we'd paint what we could draw.

I know some people think that activities like drawing and painting are  talents, either you have them or you don't.  However, I think they can be learned.  Some people are obviously more adept at learning these skills than others, just like some people are better at learning languages, or math, or music.

We went shopping again.  We happily bought pencils, erasers, paper, more pencils, those little smudgy things, how to books etc.

I think we may have been more enamored with shopping for supplies than we were with the actual activity.

We went to parks and coffee shops and restaurants.  We drew trees and fruit and fence posts.  We were getting better.  We signed up for drawing class.  We were the only ones in there with no art back ground or ambition.

Our "not so bad" in the park was again terrible in the class.

We got busy and fell out of our drawing/painting habits. One day I asked her if she wanted to get together for drawing and she said "No. I'm not good at that.  I don't do it any more."

Oh.

What I think it really meant was, "I don't want to be your friend because I've decided other things and people are more important to me now."

It could have meant,"I have found other things I'm good and and would rather do, without you."

I wanted to say, "Can I have your art supplies?"  But I thought that might be rude.

I have often wondered what combination of events caused her to decide she didn't want to be my friend.  I know some of the elements.  I did some things wrong, but there must have been more.  Some poor council from people in bad situations, bad advice from people who didn't have the whole story.  Pride.

I tried a few times to get together.  Each time she politely excused herself.

I read an article a long time ago.  The idea of the article was that you should go ahead and do things that you know you aren't good at.  Keep doing them.  When you continue to practice doing things you aren't good at you will either eventually get good at it, or build humility and/or character as you come to understand how other people feel when they have to do things they aren't good at (maybe for their work or family obligations.)  If we always only do things we are good at we can get a sense of false pride, as though we were good at everything.  But we don't do everything, only the things we're good at.

I'm good at knitting, crocheting, sewing, embroidery, needle point.
I'm good at reading and writing.
I'm good at teaching and creating materials for the classroom.

I'm not good at drawing, painting, photography, design, or color work.
I'm not good at math or science.
I'm not good at sales, fund raising or pressuring people to change.

I'm good at some things.  Excellence . . . well excellence is something to keep working on.

My brother was an artist.  He was Excellent. He had a natural talent to look at a thing and recreate it.  When he got older he could look at a style and make his own creations in that style.  Later he learned many styles.  But he died young and I wonder where all that potential would have taken him.

Google

I think Google just read my mind.  It's creepy, how can a question about a banana lead to the condemnation of Google?

Like this:

Me: (to myself) Ummm . . .  banana for breakfast.  I wonder how man calories are in a banana.  I'll Google it.  (typing) C a l
Google: (predictive search) calories in a banana
Me: What!  How could Google know that was my question!? Do that many people want to know about calories in bananas?  Is Google Big Brother?  Is Google the Anti-Christ?  Oh NO!  Google I love you!  Please don't be evil!
Google: showing websites
Me: clicking first link
Site: "If you would like to find out how many calories are in a banana, then bingo, you have come to the best page online to get the answer to your question."
Me: Wow Google, you're awesome.

FYI small banana (6-7") = 90 calories
banana site

in the garden

EJ and I are out in the garden.  By "garden" I mean one dandylion, a pepper plant long considering making a pepper, a tomato plant trying it's hardest to produce two tiny tomatoes after a decidedly unfruitful summer, and my houseplants.  We like it anyway.  The weather if perfect for our fuzzy socks and hoodies.  She's already kicked one of her fuzzy socks off.


Monday I decided to go for a walk.  I put on my neglected Sketchers and set out.  I wasn't being too ambitious.  The plan was to walk for 15 minutes out
and turn around.  A 30 minute walk in the sunshine with my headphones, all alone (which doesn't happen often.)  First thing was no signal on my phone.  I was trying to listen to internet radio, but alas it was not to be.  I kept going. My shoes were rubbing a little, but no biggie.  13 minutes in the bubble burst. Sketchers put the B in blister.  A raw one.  I hobbled home.

That's one way to start an exercise program.  I pulled the bandage off last night.  It looked raw, but I figured some air would help.  This morning it was tight and quite painful.  So I'm back to my Birks and fuzzy socks, and I don't even care.  I know how tacky it is, but don't knock it until you try it.  It is, as a matter of fact, awesome.  Awesome like sitting in the "garden" with my baby girl.

Traffic posting

Of course there's traffic on the day I leave late.  I have so many ideas i can't wait till i get to a computer.

The other day I was driving through town when I saw two shiney black Crown Vics- blacked out police cars.  I knew they were police cars because of the grill guard, the robust antena and the black on black paint that said "POLICE"  down the length of the cars. It was like saying, "We are police, and we are letting you know, but we don't want you to know."

It reminded me of a time I saw a similar thing, except the cars weren't completely blacked out, the windows weren't tinted, so when we looked inside we saw five large men wearing ski masks.  It was disconcerning, but then one of them leaned forward so that we could see the POLICE badge across his back;I felt we might not die that day.

It also reminded me of the "G-car" conversations I used to have with T many years ago. The conversations generally went something like this:

T: (Pointing out a car) G-car.
Me: It's just a Buick.
T: G-car.
Me: How do you know it's not just some granny who drives a Buick?
T: G-car.
Me: How do you know?!
T: Look at it!  It's a G-car, driven by a G-man.
Me: I don't believe you.
T: I know a G-car when I see one.
Me: Whatever.

Two hours later-
T: (Pointing out a car) G-car.
Me: It is not!
T: That's a G-car if I ever saw one.
Me: Stop it!
T: G-car.
Me: (glaring)
T: G-car.

Is that really a conversation? 

That reminded me of other declarations he would make which were ahead of thier time.

We are sitting in a movie theater waiting for the show to start:

"Do you see those Exits?"
"Yes"
"If someone comes in to kill us they will come from the left."
"What, Why?!"
"So you will need to try to get to the right."
"What are you talking about?!"
"There's no light behind that door.  Don't try to go through the lobby, they might try to block it, but that door on the right exits to the parking lot. It's lit."
"Why would someone come in to kill us?"
"I'm not saying they will."
"You just said if they come in I should go to the right exit."
"You should, if they do."
"WHY would anybody DO that?"
"I don't know!  Maybe they are crazy! I'm not crazy, I don't know why crazy people do crazy things!"

Yeah, that sounded absured until  the Aurora, CO situation. Sadly, context has been given.

Planning a flight:

"Oh- I don't like those planes."
"Why not?"
"Look where the exits are.  Do you know how easy it would be to highjack that flight, and hold this whole section hostage?  They would only need a few highjackers, and just one gun really."
"So, I shouldn't take this plane?"
"No, you can take this plane, it's fine- you should sit here because you can see everything clearly, and you can respond."
"Respond to what?"
"The threat."
"What threat? You think there's going to be a threat on this plane?"
"No."
"What's wrong with you?!"
"You should wear shoes with good soles."
"What are you talking about?"
"In case you crash, and need to hike out."
"Stop talking."

Thinking about those conversations made me wonder what kind of stuff he came up with post 9/11/01.

9/11 made me think about Crazy Betty, but there's not time for that now.

We watched "The Book of Eli" last week.  It made me wonder about an uncertain future without books. It doesn't have to be  Fahrenheit 451.  It could just be the end of the love of books in paper form.  I was at the bookstore yesterday.  I was there to work, but of course I took a few minutes to brows the shelves.  I Love Books. I like how they look, I like how they smell.  I like how they feel heavy in my hands.  I like what's in them (mostly.)

The problem is that I've given in the the convenience of the digital book.  I also love my Kindle.  (Little "l" love.) I love that I can carry a library in my bag.  I love that I can read War and Peace or Les Miserables (or more likely Harry Potter) and my hand won't go numb trying to hold up the volume.  I like the built in dictionary and I really like the idea of many of the other features that I never use.  I love that many titles are cheaper than (or free)  the paper version.  There's a lot to love about e-readers.

But I still love books, Beautiful picture books and substantial leather bound, gold leaf books.   I've been working on the same (paper) book for about 8 months now.  It's not the most interesting book, but it's not bad.  Reading for work, life and laziness keep me from it, from many books that I really want to read!

Someone I used to work with decided after she had depleted a LONG maternity leave-vacation-sick days that she couldn't bare to go back to work full time so she quit.  Not, however, before she made a big mess of her job, which greatly effected other's jobs, including mine in a negative way.

Several people questioned her, asking if she was sure that was the right choice for her, "oh yes, yes it is the best choice, how could I leave my precious little one in the hands of a stranger?  She's only 9 months old!"  Yes, 9 months, that's how long the part time- maternity leave-vacation-sick days went on.

One well intentioned person even told her not to do it.  She warned she had done it herself and found not everyone is cut out to be a stay at home mom.  She was told the choice had been made.  Others were told that "That woman should mind her own business."

Two weeks later she called the director asking for work.  That was two weeks into interviews to replace her.  She said she and her husband had already arranged their schedules so that she could come back as a full time (9-1) instructor. (That's my job.)  Did she know that if she simply "came back" that either my co-worker or I would lose our jobs? Did she care?

I would have been mortified to come back asking for a job, on principle considering how strongly she insisted she was making the right choice.  More so in that she left the place in a shambles.

I wonder if she even realized what she had done.

I thought before that she was a very self centered person.  The kind of person who tells everyone else how it is, but when someone speaks their mind back, she got of the defense.     I thought when she left that she had never seemed to be the stay at home type.  But I also thought that I didn't know her so well, so figuring she knew herself I didn't say anything.

I think I know myself pretty well.  I've been working part time since May.  I love it.  I think it's perfect really.  I get some time to spend with the baby, I get some time to spend with adults.

I think I could be happy as a stay at home mom.  I have so many things to fill my time.  The time that is that is not filled with the baby.  She leaned to stand, cruise and make funny sniffy noises last week.  She got her first tooth.  She loves her high chair and I love to watch her eat Cheerios. She concentrates so hard to get that little "o" between her finger and her thumb, then while it is still as far away from her mouth as her little arm can reach, she opens her mouth and slowly brings her treasure to her tongue.

I'll be going back full time in January.  It will be hard.

Here's what's happened in the last few days.  Sweet Pea has learned how to go from a crawling position to a sitting position, and she's learned how to pull herself up.  I told D. I thought she was a little a head on the crawling.  The baby sites say she may start crawling by 7 months.  So, she was a month early, so what.  This pulling up thing though- I don't remember reading about that yet.  It's great, but it means a lot of things have to change and quick.  The crib mattress needs to be lowered, so she won't fall out.  Everything needs be put up higher, because now she can reach everything on the sofa, the first and second shelves, the foot stool and the chairs.

She's sleeping on the floor now.  When I put her in the crib for a nap she sat up and looked at me like, "I think I can get out of here."

I also learned what "cruising" means in baby vocabulary.  That's when they move around a room going place to place holding on to something to help them balance.  She's also cruising.

I often dream of running, not from anything, just running to get places or for fun.  I wish that were really in my temperament.

I've declared Mondays for me. The  baby is with Noni and I'm going to try to sign up for a class.  The first class is Hula Hoop for the young at heart. (That means old people, ie me!)  It only meets four times. After that I'll start something new- or maybe dedicate that time to finishing something old.

Monday evenings I will attend a woman's Bible study on Esther.

Other Monday activities will include school work and house work.  Blah.

I've discovered I can't really use my office more than on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I never know when Steve will be there.
It should be only a few months until Steve will move over to the "adjunct office" and I will be labeled "core faculty."
It will be hard to leave my baby everyday!

EJ got up on her hands and knees yesterday and started rocking.  When I put her down she's no longer in that same place when I come back.  She's not crawling yet, but she's scooting around on the floor and rolling until she finds herself someplace interesting.  She can sit up by herself now.  She'll still fall over, but she doesn't seem to mind when she does, because that gives her a chance to scoot and roll.  

Time to baby proof.

Susa the unfinished stocking stuffer.

This poor girl has been left undone for, well who knows how long, she has a sister even less put together.  I've got to get these two girls going!  I'm in a mood to pull my sewing machine out. The more I think about it the more convinced I am that I could easily be a stay at home mom and never run out of (fun) things to do.

I made some baby food today.  I don't know why I decided to buy all orange food again.  Carrots, sweet potatoes, mangos and peaches.  I realized the orangeness after the carrots and the sweet potatoes . . .  so I gave my little monkey some bananas.  She wasn't impressed with my effort.  Little stinker.

She was eating food really well, then she started getting distracted by EVERYTHING and doing crazy little interpretive dances in her chair.  I've been using a Bumbo to sit her in while she eats.  I need a high chair so I can put her there and leave her until she's ready for the next bite, some times it takes quite a while to come around.

I just put a pot pie in the oven, the packaging told me that the paper tray the pie was in was "ovenable." I question the wordability of "ovenable."

I can't find Susa's sister, but I did find her hair, and few naked cousins.

Big day for me and Sweet Pea.  I had a plan of things to do, I did the fun things, and just as I was starting the less fun things I got a call.  There is a new outlet mall and it opened today.  Of course I Had to check it out right?  I mean, even though I don't need anything, I should know what's available for when I do need something.

SP slept in late, the only problem with that is the over-wet diaper.  I think I can deal with a few extra things to wash in trade for extra hours of sleep.

I had breakfast and got some crocheting and listening to Bible done this morning before she got up.  After she ate we went adventuring.  We walked up to the church on the corner and found a mini geocache.

PK got me involved in her new hobby.  Of course I want to look for treasure!  With a map! It's pretty great.  I got a cute little pathtag, which is a trackable coin people have made so they can see who will find their treasures, and what stories they have to tell about finding them.

Of course as this was only my third geocaching adventure, this was my first pathtag and now I know I need to collect them.  And more importantly, I need to convince my director that we need to have them made for TCU IEP, for students and other geocachers to find them and write notes for us.

There are several caches within walking distance of the house, so SP and I have lots of other adventures to try before we need to branch out.

Sweet Pea and I have already had a full  day, and she's been napping for an hour.

I decided to try cloth diapers . . . it seemed like a good idea a the time.  It might still be a good idea when I don't use them at night.  When she woke up she was wet head to toes.  Her clothes, swaddler, blanket, sheet, and mattress pad were wet too, not to mention the cloth diaper and cover.

So, lesson learned, not at night.

I changed her, thought about giving her a bath and decided that I'd just wiper her down, feed her and then strip her bed.

I stripped the bed and put everything in the washer.

She ate 2.5 ounces of oatmeal, then 7 oz. of formula.  When I insisted on a burp, I got one, and ALL the cereal and formula too.  I'm not exaggerating.  ALL.  ALL over me.  I was soaked. I thought about giving us both a bath, but I decided to just change my clothes.

I took the first load out of the washer to start the second load, which included my wet clothes.

So, maybe she's not feeling good.  I mean she did smile at me as as soon as the she was finished throwing up on me. It wasn't even that gross considering it had only been in her for about 3 minutes.

I went to change her pants and it was dirty.  It was dirty up to her armpits. Again, I'm not even exaggerating.  It wasn't diarrhea, just a good healthy BM.

I gave up and we both got in the bath.

We both got dressed.  She ate 5 oz. of formula and went back to sleep by 10:30.

Making baby messes is hard work.

I had a dream the other night.

I dreamed I was relocated to a vineyard along with a large group of Christians.  It was like a prison camp.  We were instructed to pick the grapes, but we were not allowed to eat them.The grapes were large and beautiful, heavy with juices and each fruit was as big as a walnut.  The Christians were hungry.  Many of them ate the forbidden fruit until their mouths were purpled with the juices. Others ate in secret, furtively looking to see if they were being watched.  Others tried to resist, but they were so hungry they were surprised to find the fruit in their mouths and gone before they understood what they had done. They asked among themselves, "Did I eat that?"

It was a dream of hypocrisy. 

We live among the temptations of the world, and some of us gorge.  Some of us pretend we are not taking what we should not have, we hide our actions.  Some of us wish to do right, but before we know it we have taken what we should never have taken.

Is there a Christian among us who really could resist unto death the temptations of this world?

I know who I am, and it is shameful.

• The "Hate nuggets" on both sides need to stop.
  
  
  
  Shannon Dawn Burnham Has chik fil a killed your gay friends? I thought the owner just has an opinion.

  5 hours ago via mobile · 
• 
  

   They've donated lots of $$ to anti gay charities I refuse to donate to that cause so they won't profit of off me eating there.

  4 hours ago ·  · 4
• 
  

  No, none of my friends have been murdered by Chick-fil-a Shannon Dawn Burnham. However, Chick-fil-a has donated millions of dollars of their profits to several anti-gay groups and have made it perfectly clear that they do not believe that all men were created equal. Since I do, I am making it perfectly clear that I will never give them another red cent.

  3 hours ago ·  · 1
• 
  

  Further comments are not welcome here. Click "Like" or move along please.

  2 hours ago ·  · 1

  
  

  Between the last two comments this comment by me was deleted:

  
  

  I respect your decision.  Here is what the owner of Chic-fil-a says, "While my family and I  believe in the Biblical definition of marriage, we love and respect anyone who disagrees." 

  
  

  Here is a list of the "anti gay" charities the owner of Chic-fil-a has donated to:

  Marriage and Family Legacy Fund

  Fellowship of Christian Athletes

  National Christian Foundation

  Focus on the Family

  *Eagle Forum (leading the pro-family movement since 1972)

  *Exodus International (seeks to "rehabilitate" gay Christians)

  Family Research Council

  
  

  * I looked these two up since I didn't know them and they weren't obviously named.  

  
  

  If a gay person decides he wants to be a Christian and wants to be "rehabilitated" isn't that his business?  

  
  

  I am so disappointed by the lack of thoughtfulness on both sides.

Half year resolutions:


Half year resolutions:

• NO NEW YARN (except on my birthday) for the rest of the year

• Take time to read (for fun)  every day, even if it's only 5 minutes

• DIET (Lose 30+ lbs by Christmas)

• Write in the baby book

• Blog once a week (at least)

• Take time to KNIT or CROCHET (like I have to remind myself, but sometimes I don't because of other things that I feel like I have to do.  I want to remember I have to relax for me)

• Keep Organizing

• Keep up on my work prep

• Enjoy my new office at work (Can I do 2+ hours a week on work days?  Can I take the baby in on off days?)

• EXERCISE each day, even if it's only for a short time

• Spend more time with hubby 

• Enjoy time with EJ

I can do these things.

Mirrors lie.  They tell you you look good, at least better than you did when you started whatever the process was to get you looking in the mirror.  Changing clothes, putting on make up or doing your hair, the mirror lies.

I know this because sometimes I look in the mirror and think, "Yeah that's okay."  Then I look at a picture taken that same day and think, "What the HECK?"

The time has come again to be serious about a diet.  Several of my friends have had very good success with their diets, and I think it is time for me.  I need to get rid of this baby weight before I add more on.  I told D. we can talk about babies again at the end of the year, so there's not much time to get some off.

I talked to the Dr. about it and he said as soon as my lungs and feet are "less jacked up" he could hook me up with a program that can work  on the condition that I PROMISE to exercise, or it would be a waste of effort.  I know he's right.  I've lost weight before without exercise, but it all found me again.

I'm thinking a good idea would be the C25K program and some gym time after work.   It will be hard because 1. I'm lazy and 2. I don't like to walk with the current stroller.  I don't want to buy an expensive exercise stroller if I'm not really going to get my money's worth. Besides, if we do get pregnant around the end of the year, I'll need a double . . . hard.

Other plans, figure out my protein, calories and burn calories needs.  I know there are formulas.
Improve will power- get exercise music and listening materials ready to keep me focused.
Make a schedule to be sure to have no excuses for "no time" to exercise.

I've decided to stay part time, probably until the Spring, when the full time position opens up at TCU.

When to start?  Well, my feet are still feeling pretty good from the steroid shot. (that was amazing) I'm feeling mostly better from the lung sickness (that was pretty awful.) So  I think I'll start the exercising Monday or Tuesday.  I'll start the diet planning this weekend or Monday.  I wish I could find all the S4L stuff that I had a few years ago.

It's going to happen . . . I think.

Me: My feet really hurt when I first get up in the morning
Dr: Let me see your feet . . . oh yeah your feet are . . . I haven't seen feet like this since ...
you need a rolling pin.
Me: I have a rolling pin.
Dr. I need a rolling pin, a solid mahogany one.
Me: Ok.
Dr. That's what my father told my mother he would give her for her wedding present, while they were on their first date. I wonder whereI can get a solid mahogany rolling pin.
Me: I don't know.
Dr. Maybe I should make one.
Me: I guess so.
Dr: You can use a regular rolling pin, or a Dr. Pepper bottle.
Me: For what?
Dr. Your feet.

I have a "friend" on Facebook (yes read those quotes as intended) who is very opinionated.  She's an atheist and she's always railing against anything Christians and all the "dumb" things Christians do. She's Californian, so she's always going off on Texans and rednecks.  She practices "attached parenthood" so she's always against "scheduling children."  It goes on and on.  I think many of her posts are silly and some even offensive. I've often wondered how I could stop seeing her posts without actually unfriending her.  I mean, I don't want to not be her friend, I want to be able to comment to her  on her page if I feel like it.  I want to be able to email her if I want to, I just don't care to see all her posts and her comments of other people's posts.

Besides, unfriending feels weird.

So, today she made a comment about how she was going to unfriend people who are always making religious comments, because they bored her.

People were commenting and saying, "yeah, you should, those people are hypocrites anyway."  Really? Now all Religious people are hypocrites?  Blanket.  Thanks for you open mindedness.

So I made a comment because 1.  I was feeling sassy and 2. she quit and she's not my boss any more :0)

I thought I was being not rude- but maybe I was wrong, as the comment got deleted and a new comment by her was posted which said, If you don't like what I post about you should unfriend me, I've unfriended people for lots of reasons, like moaning about a relationship for too long, or always selling something or just long repetitive posts.

I wish I would have copied my post so that I knew exactly what I said, but is was something like this

Hypocrisy is a problem for all people.  It's fair warning to tell people you will unfriend them, but people like to post about what they believe in.  You often post about what you believe in. You shouldn't unfriend people for what they believe in, you should unfriend them because they aren't your friends.

I looked to see if she unfriended me, but I guess I'm not religious enough . . . YET!

visited 23 states (10.2%)
Create your own visited map of The World or Free android travel guide

Occationally I get the idea that I want to learn French.  I have that feeling right now.  I'm in the modern languages lab at TCU and I started listening to the French lab homework and realized I could pick out about 75% of French one lesson one video.  So I started wondering when French classes were held, if I could take one, and how much it would cost. 

I often think (and say) that I don't want to learn anything new, but the truth is I like learning new things.  I know that's why I hardly ever repeat a knitting or crochet or sewing pattern.  Once I have conquered a pattern I feel accomplished and move on.  There are so many things I would like make again, but there are so many more things that I would like to make for the first time.

Maybe someday I will learn French . . .

I'm interviewing for my job tomorrow.

Awkward!

I've had this job for 2 years.  I never interviewed, I got a call that said, "Hey you want this job?"  and I said, "Yes."

Because they are now opening up benefits, everyone has to reapply and interview for their jobs if they want to keep them.

I've got to go read The Great Gatsby.

Our offices at work are being renovated so we are temporarily being housed in one of the "smart buildings" on campus.  The rooms don't have key locks, but swipe cards locks.  I don't even need to use the swipe lock because the doors also have timed locks.  Today I was in my classroom and at 1:00 the doors automatically locks and all the computers (including the one I was using) shut down.

Drat!

Stupid smart building.

The other day I was in the store when a woman commented on how cute EJ was.  I said thanks.  She said, "Look at those cheeks!  I just want to bite them!"  I looked at her.  Then she said, "In a good way."

She wants to bite by baby in a good way  . . .

But really I knew what she meant.  I have a friend who said that when she had her babies she wanted to eat them, and some times she would nibble on their fingers and toes.  She was concerned about her desire to eat her young (especially as she's a vegetarian) so she talked to her therapist about it and she said it wasn't that uncommon.

Weird.

I've never wanted to eat my baby, but I have had to urge to lick her.  Ok I HAVE licked her, once . . . or twice or so.

It was less about deliciousness and more about grooming, I wanted to lick her like a mamma cat licks a kitten.

Odd.

It's always like that!  As soon as you say something, you realize you have been mistaken.  I found the broom.  It wasn't the dogs, it was the tricksy elves who hid it behind the stove.  (Where I looked before I bought the new broom by the way.)

I can still blame it on baby brain. :0)

Someone stole my broom from in front of my front door.  I was washing the walk way in front of our apt, so I left the broom out to dry and it disappeared.  One friend suggested that the dog took it.  To be honest I would very much like to watch either one of our dogs take a broom.  Besides the fact that the broom probably weighs as much as one of them and is about 20 times longer than the other ones legs, our dogs are afraid of brooms.  They act like the were beaten with brooms in their early years.  I know for sure neither of them ever was.  Maybe they are remembering an earlier incarnation.  She said her dog love brooms and she has to lock her dog up when she sweeps because she is always trying to take it away from her.

I thought I had weird dogs.

Bacon, the gate way meat.

O Fortuna Misheard Lyrics (Animated)

You have to watch at least until the octopus in boots going to North Korea.

Yesterday I got up to change and feed the baby.  I played with her, put her down for a nap and cleaned the kitchen washed the dishes and had breakfast. I put the laundry in the washer, checked my email,  facebook, pintrest, and played a game on the iPad.  The baby woke up for second breakfast, so I changed and fed her again, played for a while, and  put her down for second nap.  I put the clothes in the drier, folded the clothes that I took out of the drier, dyed some yarn with food coloring and vinager, and prepared the chicken and vegetables that I would cook for dinner.  Then I reoganized the freezer, found a frozen dinner, heated it up and ate it for lunch.  Then I realized it was only noon and wondered what I was going to do until the baby woke up for first lunch.  So I started to organize my bedroom, which for some reason is always the messiest place in the house.

Now I know what it would be like if I were a morning person. I would get so much done . . .

I dreamed last night that the dogs were in trouble for stealing food from the kitchen. 

I yelled at Louie, who looked appropriately guilty about it and went outside to yell at Buzz. 

Buzz was trying to avoid me, and for some reason my backyard had changed into a school yard.  He was running between the kids and trying to get out of the fence.  I was stalking him. 

When I found him he was a chubby little boy wearing a school uniform (which didn't phase me at all) and while I was still mad at him for stealing food, I was also mad at him for going on a field trip with out having me sign the permission slip. 
I said, "Why didn't you give me a permission slip for this field trip?
(He was just getting off the bus.)  He looked guilty. 
The teacher said, "I thought the permission slip looked like it had been signed by a 9 year old." 
Buzz/Boy said, "He promised me it would look authentic." 
The teacher told me she thought I had poor hand writing. Buzz/Boy appologized prettily,(in a British accent.)  Sort of like Piggy in Lord of the Flies . . .
The teacher said that was a very nice apology.  I agreed and said he was still in trouble when he got home.  The teacher was surprised and said, "but he already apologized!" 
I said, "He's still in trouble when he gets home!" 

Stupid boy/dog stealing my food and running off on field trips with forged permission slips. 

I bet Louie was the one who forged it for him!

8:52 and it's already been a hard day on my feet.  The screen door scraped my heal on the way out of the house, and I jammed my toes on the way into work.

I suppose it would make a difference if I wore real shoes instead of flip-flops.

Speaking of flip-flops,  I have diagnosed myself with "flip-flop disease."  (look it up, it's real!) Also known as planters factitious, more commonly known as fallen arch.

I attribute it, like my hurting knees and my hurting back to being overweight.  Oh- the trials and tribulations of being fat.

My first day of semi-diet didn't really go so well, but honestly this week is really more about getting rid of the not so great things in the house . . . which is why I had to eat those two egg rolls, but had nothing to do with the cookie.  I must withstand the cookies.  I did say no to the ice cream sandwich.

I'm going on a diet soon . . .  apologize in advance.

Do these glasses make me look smart or just more beautiful?

my little helper

I hope this is not telling of my housekeeping skills.   I made beans the other day, after I soaked them one fell in the drain.  It sprouted there.  What a silly thing for a bean to do in the sink, so I put in in one of my house plants, and now it's all leafy and green.  How fantastic! I wonder if I can grow beans next to my watermelons.

My dream is to grow watermelons . . . and pumpkins.  I grew a pumpkin plant once, but  it was an accident, and then the maintenance men pulled it up and aborted all my baby pumpkins.  They were going to be supper cute too.

What I need now is a hose.

EJ is taking her "night nap" or maybe she's trying to be asleep for the night.  If she's asleep for the night now, she will be up by or before 6:00 AM.  It's ok though, that is the schedule we will have once I start back to work next week.  (!)

I've been watching "Ancient Astronauts."  What a bunch of rubbish.  There have been many claims, the Ark of the Covenant was radio active (which is why nobody could touch it.) Manna was made from a manna machine (which was also nuclear powered.) It spewed out manna every day except Sabbath, because it had to be cleaned once a week.  The Israelites had leave the dessert because the manna machine broke . . .

Goliath was an alien.
Jesus, of course, was an alien.
Adam and Eve were genetically engineered by aliens to be slave labor for them.
Enoch was an alien with a spaceship, he could have also been Apollo.
The Ark of the Covenant is buried in Canada.

:)

Wants to blog

I've wanted to blog for some time now, but hands full of baby makes it hard. When she's sleeping I think "I could blog, or I could do something crazy like sleep, eat or take a shower." I have things to say, surprisingly not ALL baby stuff, but probably most of it. I start back to work next week. Maybe I can devote 30 minutes of grandma's babysitting time to blogging.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UVNT4wvIGY&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Dear Eowyn, ignore everything people say about your feet, they are beautiful!

Looking to the future.

"I'm not sure about this!"

Sleepy sweet

We went into the hospital on Sunday night. It was daylights savings time, so of course we were an hour late. It didn't matter though because the doctor had forgotten to tell the hospital we were coming in to be induced.

What does it mean to be induced? For me it meant starting with a drug that started the dilation process. If all went according to schedule, I would have taken that drug for 12 hours, then I would have taken the next drug, which started contractions, for another 6-8 hours, labored for a few hours, and would have had a scheduled baby by Monday afternoon. Of course, that's not what happened. 
I took the dilation drug for 8 hours, when the nurse came in at 6:00AM to give me the last dose, she said, “Oh, look, you are in labor! I guess you’ve been uncomfortable tonight. You don’t need this last dose. Do you want an epidural now?” 
Me: “Uh, yeah!”
The nurse started the second drug at 6:30AM. The day nurse came in at 7:00AM. She said, “Looks like you were dilated to a 4 (out of 10) when we started this drug, and you’re at a 7 now. I’m just going to turn this off for a while. (The doctor wasn’t due in until 8:00.) 
Between 8:00 and 9:00 there was a commotion of doctors and nurses coming in and out, all acting like everything was totally cool. Every three to five minutes they would ask me to shift positions, check the baby’s heart monitor, check the contractions and ask me to shift again. 
At 9:00 one of the nurses called another doctor and said, “Um yeah- every time she has a contraction the fetal heartbeat goes down below 80. Yeah- ok.”
My doctor said, “Your baby is healthy right now, and we want to make sure she stays that way. Her cord is smaller than normal, and it is compressed every time you have a contraction, and they are coming faster now. We want to make sure she is healthy when she’s born, so do you want to go ahead and have a c-section?”
It sounded like a question that wasn’t a question at all. “Do you want a healthy baby or do you want to see what happens?” I decided on the healthy baby. D says he thinks we could have waited, and maybe another doctor would have waited, but in the end a healthy baby was my only goal.
Within two minutes there were 8 nurses swarming over me. Telling me what was going to happen, shoving a surgical gown and mask at Daniel, prepping me and wheeling me away. 
At 9:11 the doctor said, “Look at the peanut head!” I immediately though of “Mr. Peanut.” Peanut head? ! What does that mean? Is she misshapen? Does she have a monocle? She didn’t cry, but they had warned me she wouldn’t at first, she had had a bowl movement in the womb, it was in the fluid surrounding her, if she breathed in the fluid she could get sick, so they cut her cord long and had the nicu folks clean out her lungs before they got her to cry. 
They cleaned her up and gave her to Daniel to bring to me. Of course she was beautiful, and making a face as if to say, “This was not my plan for today!” I don’t think it is anyone’s plan to be pulled out of a comfy place by her face. 
I noticed her head full of brown hair, and the fact that unlike many newborns, she wasn’t red or blotchy, she wasn’t wrinkly and didn’t have floppy ears or a cone (or peanut) head. She looked like one of those “newborn” TV babies, which are really closer to 2 or 3 months old. She looked perfect. I did read that c-section babies tend to look better since they don’t go through the trauma of the birth canal, but I had to admit to myself that I had done an excellent job on that baby.
The first night in the hospital she snorted and snored and made all kinds of unusual sounds. She stayed in the room with us. I had to stay 4 days because of the c-section. Although I didn’t want to stay that long, I knew I had to. I could hardly get out of bed, standing was torture and getting back in the bed was nearly as difficult. 
The swelling was outrageous, at one point my legs were so swollen that I got a bruise from the pressure cuffs they had on me to reduce swelling. The doctor said it would get worse before it got better. By the time I got home my legs were so swollen I could hardly bend them at the knee. 
When we left the hospital, I still looked enormously p regnant. I kept looking at my belly and thinking, “Did they leave somebody in there?”
Things are better now, I can sit and stand relatively easily. I’m still walking slowly, but I’m off the pain medication. I’ve lost half of my pregnancy weight, and hope the other half comes off as easily.
All my energy now goes to figuring out the eating schedule. 
A conversation with the nurse before we left the hospital. “She should eat every two hours. She should have on wet diaper for each day she is old and two or more dirty diapers each day.” 
Me: “But what if she doesn’t?”
Nurse: “It is recommended that she does.”
Me: “But what if she doesn’t?”
Nurse: “It is recommended that she does.”
Me: “But what should I do if she doesn’t?”
Nurse: “Here’s a chart to keep track of her feeding times, her wets and dirties.”
Me: “Thanks.”
She did not and still does not eat every two hours, she did not have the “right” amount of wets and dirties and by the fourth day at home I was ready to have a melt down. I couldn’t get her stay awake to eat, and when she did it was so painful to me I flinched every time she touched me.
Oh- breast feeding, there is a reason two generations of mothers turned to formula.
We are now on a breast feeding, plus pumping, plus formula supplements routine. It is much less painful, but still very time consuming. We will figure it out eventually.

Bare foot and pregnant

I never wondered before about the phrase "bare foot and pregnant." I suppose I thought it had to do with being a house wife and not needing shoes on account of nowhere to go. Now I know the truth. I have places to go, but most of the time my shoes don't go with me. For the past 2 months I have increasingly eshewed my "real" shoes in favor of house shoes. For the past few weeks it has ben an exclusive relationship; shopping, work, special events- all have been attended by my house shoes.

I would like to make a resolution to be a better blogger, but that probably won't happen.  I've been spending a lot of time cleaning, organizing, unpacking, repacking, washing, reading, knitting, watching TV, (a little bit of working) and a lot of sleeping.

Vacation is so good.

I just finished my "Baby Shawl"  which is a triangular baby blanket.  I'm almost finished with the little green baby sweater, and then I'll move on to finish all the baby toys I started and didn't finish some time ago.  I will make a commitment to no new yarn- not when I have so very much stuffed everywhere imaginable. Also no new fabric- I think I'm a hoarder.  It's awful.

No new books- except the crafty books that I really need!   :)  I'm trying to read through my books and send them on their ways.  I've come the realization that I like empty space.  I mean I love stuff, but I also really like not cluttered.

It's not easy by myself, harder with D and I feel nearly impossible with a baby, but I will make my small efforts.