I went ahead and deleted the posts on my pseudo blog. I really do have a short attention span, which is why I'm surprised this blog is still receiving some attention however small. Maybe I'll come up with something entertaining to do with the pseudo blog that holds my attention for more than a couple of weeks. At least the original blogster posted once so now I know that he/she/it knows what someone did to his/her/its url. Of course, he/she/it was ugly about it. If you're morbidly curious about what the original blog was like, he/she/it moved it here. He/she/it really does have a malicious spirit.
However, his/her/its post about why a woman should never become president of the U.S. did make me chuckle.
M.W.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
A-Toddling We Will Go
All of a sudden this weekend, my baby became a toddler.
In the space of 4 days she went from clinging tightly to both my hands as she took tentative steps around our living room to letting go entirely. It began Friday night when she wanted to hold on with only one hand. On Sunday afternoon, she let go entirely for the first time in order to take that first solo step to her grandma's open arms. Two hours later, she took two more steps, again to grandma. At daycare Monday morning, she was ready to take off running. Of course, she couldn't do that just yet and pitched forward face first. When we dropped her off this morning, I set her down on her feet. She froze, wobbling just a bit, caught her balance, scooted one foot forward about 2 inches and then scooted the other foot about 1 inch. She froze for another second, then repeated the process a couple more times until she had made three quarters of a circle before plopping down into a crawl.
I cannot believe she already made this little milestone. Her birthday is in 19 days. I am not ready for her to be quite so independent and mobile.
M.W.
In the space of 4 days she went from clinging tightly to both my hands as she took tentative steps around our living room to letting go entirely. It began Friday night when she wanted to hold on with only one hand. On Sunday afternoon, she let go entirely for the first time in order to take that first solo step to her grandma's open arms. Two hours later, she took two more steps, again to grandma. At daycare Monday morning, she was ready to take off running. Of course, she couldn't do that just yet and pitched forward face first. When we dropped her off this morning, I set her down on her feet. She froze, wobbling just a bit, caught her balance, scooted one foot forward about 2 inches and then scooted the other foot about 1 inch. She froze for another second, then repeated the process a couple more times until she had made three quarters of a circle before plopping down into a crawl.
I cannot believe she already made this little milestone. Her birthday is in 19 days. I am not ready for her to be quite so independent and mobile.
M.W.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
I told Mr. W.
I finally told Mr. W. about my little blog. He's not thrilled, but he hasn't asked me to take it down either. If it comes down to it and Mr. W. wants me to get rid of the blog, I will do as he asks out of love and respect for him. At least, I will get rid of all the posts that bother him. A big part of me wants to leave it up as a testament to my children. I want them to see that even with working outside the home fulltime, they are still very much on my mind and in my heart. I can't help but think that they may be interested in my struggle to find balance and in the joy they bring me.
I'm crossing my fingers that he will be okay with what I'm posting here, but if not, I'll live, even if the blog doesn't.
The next big question: Will I tell my family? Answer: Probably not.
M.W.
Update: I told my sister. Hiya little sis (if you're reading this)!
I'm crossing my fingers that he will be okay with what I'm posting here, but if not, I'll live, even if the blog doesn't.
The next big question: Will I tell my family? Answer: Probably not.
M.W.
Update: I told my sister. Hiya little sis (if you're reading this)!
I'm so proud
Friday evening Mr. W and I went to pick up L. from daycare (S. had spent the day being spoiled by her grandparents) as usual. While he wandered down to S.'s room to check her cubby, I visited with L.'s teachers to ask how her day went, how many naps did she take, how well did she eat, etc. After giving me the lowdown on L.'s activities, Mrs. C., one of her teachers, rather hesitantly asked, 'So, does L. snore?'
I thought that was an odd question, but I knew the answer since L.'s crib is right next to my side of the bed. 'She sure does. She's pretty well snored since the day she was born. Why do you ask?'
Mrs. C. half grinned in that I'm-about-to-tell-a-parent-something-I'm-afraid-he/she-isn't-going-to-especially-like sort of way and let me know that L. had only recently started snoring during her naps at daycare. In fact, not only was she snoring, but it was loud enough Thursday afternoon that she woke the other nine babies and kept them from getting back to sleep. Plus, she was so creative in her snoring that very afternoon that Mrs. E., another teacher, became nervous and had Mrs. R., the director, come down and listen to L.'s breathing. Mrs. E. thought it sounded like L. was gasping for breath. Mrs. R. confirmed what Mrs. C had been saying and pronounced that L. was merely snoring in that squeaky baby sort of way.
I'm so proud. My girl has taken up with my family tradition in a new and exciting way. Most of the members of my family only start vigorous snoring after they've broken their nose at least once. Not my girl. She's raring to go from the very beginning. I did try to console L.'s teachers by telling them that I thought the snoring would improve once the last of L.'s congestion cleared out. Unfortunately, I don't think it's entirely true.
So to any member of my family who may be reading, be proud of the genes that have produced our little snoring prodigy.
M.W.
I thought that was an odd question, but I knew the answer since L.'s crib is right next to my side of the bed. 'She sure does. She's pretty well snored since the day she was born. Why do you ask?'
Mrs. C. half grinned in that I'm-about-to-tell-a-parent-something-I'm-afraid-he/she-isn't-going-to-especially-like sort of way and let me know that L. had only recently started snoring during her naps at daycare. In fact, not only was she snoring, but it was loud enough Thursday afternoon that she woke the other nine babies and kept them from getting back to sleep. Plus, she was so creative in her snoring that very afternoon that Mrs. E., another teacher, became nervous and had Mrs. R., the director, come down and listen to L.'s breathing. Mrs. E. thought it sounded like L. was gasping for breath. Mrs. R. confirmed what Mrs. C had been saying and pronounced that L. was merely snoring in that squeaky baby sort of way.
I'm so proud. My girl has taken up with my family tradition in a new and exciting way. Most of the members of my family only start vigorous snoring after they've broken their nose at least once. Not my girl. She's raring to go from the very beginning. I did try to console L.'s teachers by telling them that I thought the snoring would improve once the last of L.'s congestion cleared out. Unfortunately, I don't think it's entirely true.
So to any member of my family who may be reading, be proud of the genes that have produced our little snoring prodigy.
M.W.
Friday, January 27, 2006
What L. and S. are up to
So Saturday, I was talking to my sister on the phone when I heard some pint-sized cackling. Mr. W. had taken S. out on errands, so I knew it had to be L. making those gasping, can't-hardly's-stay-upright, belly laughs. I turned around to see what was causing the hilarity to see that L. had shoved her push-toy up under the Christmas tree (yes, our tree is still up, we like it) and had climbed on top of it in an effort to get up past the first level of branches on the tree. When she saw that she had been caught in her scheming, the giggles got the best of her and she lost her balance pitching face first down onto the carpet. She was unhurt and still giggling like a maniac.
I think I'm going to be checking to make sure all necessary furniture bits are securely fastened to walls.
Last night, S. decided to play exterminator. I was talking to my sister on the phone (maybe I need to rethink talking to her while the kids are still awake...), when I heard Mr. W. call for S. to strip down, put her dirty clothes in the hamper and get herself into the bathroom for her bath. A minute or two later, Mr. W. scooped up S.'s clothes in order to add them to the load of laundry going in the washer. While his back was turned, S. came galloping out naked as a jaybird, riding her stickhorse and carrying a royal blue plastic bat like a lance. We had some sort of slow-flying insect loose in the house, and she was bound and determined to squash it with that bat. Few things are as funny as watching a naked 3 year old, galloping around the house on a stickhorse, singing, "I'm gonna squash the bug!" while regularly smacking the ground with her blue plastic bat.
The things this child comes up with.
M.W.
I think I'm going to be checking to make sure all necessary furniture bits are securely fastened to walls.
Last night, S. decided to play exterminator. I was talking to my sister on the phone (maybe I need to rethink talking to her while the kids are still awake...), when I heard Mr. W. call for S. to strip down, put her dirty clothes in the hamper and get herself into the bathroom for her bath. A minute or two later, Mr. W. scooped up S.'s clothes in order to add them to the load of laundry going in the washer. While his back was turned, S. came galloping out naked as a jaybird, riding her stickhorse and carrying a royal blue plastic bat like a lance. We had some sort of slow-flying insect loose in the house, and she was bound and determined to squash it with that bat. Few things are as funny as watching a naked 3 year old, galloping around the house on a stickhorse, singing, "I'm gonna squash the bug!" while regularly smacking the ground with her blue plastic bat.
The things this child comes up with.
M.W.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Whoops!
Unlike this rather anonymous blog (hello PIMs!), the blog I hijacked as noted in this post had a number of readers and is apparently featured on something called Blog Explosion (note to self, do a little research before you start something, and what on earth is a Blog Explosion). A couple of people have posted on my errant blog. Since the url had been abandoned for several days before I 'borrowed' it, I didn't really think any of the previous readers would come by with anything real to say. I had rather hoped that the original blogster would check it out and feel how foolish and even hurtful he had been. Yes I am an optimist, why do you ask?
Foolish me. One gal posted to the effect that she wanted to see the rest of the blog back up and really missed it and another blogger asked about my demise. The original culprit had posted a song and dance about his wife dying of cancer after 30+ years of marriage. I'm trying to think of a clever way to show that the blog has been taken over by someone with better sense and manners without posting, "Hey, guys and gals, this blog has been taken over by someone with better sense and manners." On the other hand, I have noticed that subtlety is often lost in cyberspace.
Meanwhile, I am trying to come up with Dr. Life's next step in the struggle to become a balanced human again. So far he has been attacked by fire ants and is writing sentences...
M.W.
Foolish me. One gal posted to the effect that she wanted to see the rest of the blog back up and really missed it and another blogger asked about my demise. The original culprit had posted a song and dance about his wife dying of cancer after 30+ years of marriage. I'm trying to think of a clever way to show that the blog has been taken over by someone with better sense and manners without posting, "Hey, guys and gals, this blog has been taken over by someone with better sense and manners." On the other hand, I have noticed that subtlety is often lost in cyberspace.
Meanwhile, I am trying to come up with Dr. Life's next step in the struggle to become a balanced human again. So far he has been attacked by fire ants and is writing sentences...
M.W.
I should be working
Correction. I should be frantically working!
I have one big project set to be implemented on Friday (a week ahead of schedule, no less), and I'm deep in the throes of testing to make sure that what the programmer has produced and what I think he should have produced match. I have a love/hate relationship with testing. Part of me takes sick pleasure in bending, stretching and otherwise ripping apart data in order to make sure it is correct. Another part of me loathes the tedium of running the same queries over the same data looking for the same problem over and over again.
So here I sit 1.5 days from go/no go. Instead of poring over query results and micro-examining the 36 reports we will be producing, I am writing on my sadly neglected blog. I even skipped a Toastmasters meeting thinking I would spend my lunch hour being mildly productive. All I can think is that this is the 5th time in 2 years we have modified this system and I am sick to death of looking at it. In an odd way, I am jealous of the programmer who has been assigned this project with me. This is his first time dealing with this system, so everything is fresh and new to him. Unfortunately, since this IS his first time dealing with this system, I get to deal with the same mistakes the previous programmer made and learned from that this programmer is now making and learning from.
Ah well, at least I'm getting to unofficially train a programmer up the way I like, LOL. In six weeks, when our lovely board of directors makes yet another change to this system (that I am NOT about to tell my programmer about whle he's still wrestling with these changes), my programmer will be familiar with both the system's idiosyncracies as well as mine. Meanwhile, I really do need to dig around in my data. It's kind of important that all this stuff be right since it does affect the income of oh about 600 individuals. I've noticed that people get very cranky when they don't get paid what they are expecting.
M.W.
I have one big project set to be implemented on Friday (a week ahead of schedule, no less), and I'm deep in the throes of testing to make sure that what the programmer has produced and what I think he should have produced match. I have a love/hate relationship with testing. Part of me takes sick pleasure in bending, stretching and otherwise ripping apart data in order to make sure it is correct. Another part of me loathes the tedium of running the same queries over the same data looking for the same problem over and over again.
So here I sit 1.5 days from go/no go. Instead of poring over query results and micro-examining the 36 reports we will be producing, I am writing on my sadly neglected blog. I even skipped a Toastmasters meeting thinking I would spend my lunch hour being mildly productive. All I can think is that this is the 5th time in 2 years we have modified this system and I am sick to death of looking at it. In an odd way, I am jealous of the programmer who has been assigned this project with me. This is his first time dealing with this system, so everything is fresh and new to him. Unfortunately, since this IS his first time dealing with this system, I get to deal with the same mistakes the previous programmer made and learned from that this programmer is now making and learning from.
Ah well, at least I'm getting to unofficially train a programmer up the way I like, LOL. In six weeks, when our lovely board of directors makes yet another change to this system (that I am NOT about to tell my programmer about whle he's still wrestling with these changes), my programmer will be familiar with both the system's idiosyncracies as well as mine. Meanwhile, I really do need to dig around in my data. It's kind of important that all this stuff be right since it does affect the income of oh about 600 individuals. I've noticed that people get very cranky when they don't get paid what they are expecting.
M.W.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Pumping mom survival guide - Tip number 4
Find support. Pumping breastmilk is often lonely and thankless (and yet still rewarding). Having a girlfriend who's been there can make a huge difference in how successfull your pumping experiences are. For my first kid, I didn't have anybody in person I could talk to, so I found the Working Mom's Board on BabyCenter. Those women pointed me toward the PumpMoms group on Yahoo. Those two resources were tremendously helpful. I learned little tricks to encourage letdown, I learned how to unplug a duct before it turned into mastitis, and I found a sisterhood of women who knew precisely why I had fantasies of driving my car back and forth over my pump.
M.W.
M.W.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
The stuff that dreams are made of
I have a running mental list of things I would like to do in my lifetime. These are the frivolous things, not the big ones like 'prepare for retirement' or 'send my kids to college.' More like:
Learn to play the oboe. I love this instrument and tried to get into it when I started band in elementary school. My elementary school required future oboists to start on flute (I understand why now that I've seen how much those instruments cost), which I did. Unfortunately, I missed the window to switch to oboe by moving half a dozen times and winding up in a school that required students to start oboe earlier.
Visit all seven continents. I've got North America, Europe, Asia and Africa knocked off the list. I'm thinking when Mr. W. and I retire, we'll take a little South American cruise followed by a jaunt down to Antarctica. I haven't worked out the strategy for getting him to take me to Australia, though.
Create and build a muppet. Yes, I am still a muppet freak.
That is all that is on my 'frivolous' list for now. It does change from time to time. The goal to hit all seven continents has been pretty consistent, though.
M.W.
Learn to play the oboe. I love this instrument and tried to get into it when I started band in elementary school. My elementary school required future oboists to start on flute (I understand why now that I've seen how much those instruments cost), which I did. Unfortunately, I missed the window to switch to oboe by moving half a dozen times and winding up in a school that required students to start oboe earlier.
Visit all seven continents. I've got North America, Europe, Asia and Africa knocked off the list. I'm thinking when Mr. W. and I retire, we'll take a little South American cruise followed by a jaunt down to Antarctica. I haven't worked out the strategy for getting him to take me to Australia, though.
Create and build a muppet. Yes, I am still a muppet freak.
That is all that is on my 'frivolous' list for now. It does change from time to time. The goal to hit all seven continents has been pretty consistent, though.
M.W.
Friday, January 13, 2006
I've been had
The internet is a weird, weird place, and I don't understand many people's motivation. Perhaps the anonymity of the web is just more than society's rules can control. Sometimes I'm reminded of 'Lord of the Flies.'
Anyhoo, all that to say that I stumbled on a blog by an individual claiming to be a Christian fundamentalist. After checking out a half-dozen entries, I discovered the content was that of a raving lunatic claiming to be a Christian fundamentalist. He had choice things to say about a woman becoming President of the United States (shouldn't happen because her menstrual cycle would make her too unbalanced) and even house pets (they should all be culled, and all monies no longer spent on pet food should go to feed the poor).
Now me being a struggling Christian and all, could not resist answering a couple of his posts. I (very nicely, I might add) pointed out that he was wrong complete with request for biblical references supporting his own point of view (something about burning in eternal fire if you own a pet and I own 4 if you don’t count Mr. W. and the girls). Others posted that he was essentially a raving lunatic and an example of why Christianity is something that should be shunned at all costs. Still others were pretty confused and, if you can believe it, actually halfway agreed with him on some points.
You know where this is going, don’t you? As it turns out Dr. Life, as he called himself, was a BIG FAT FAKER! He posted a really, really nasty gloating entry regaling us poor suckers with his own brilliance and everybody else’s stupidity. If he had ‘revealed’ his site as a practical joke, I would have laughed at myself and gone on with my life. But since he proclaimed it to be essentially an experiment in the stupidity of man, I got a little confused. If he is so smart, why does he get his jollies intentionally fooling a bunch of complete strangers only to call them morons (and with language I will not repeat)? The most brilliant people I know have a lot better ways to spend their time. To add additional insult to injury, the ‘twit formerly known as Dr. Life’ deleted the blog. His loss, since I absconded with the blog url and created this.
I'm considering daily updates to his mental health. At least I will be honest in stating that the blog is a complete fraud. Maybe it will give one of us poor sucker idiots a little bit of a grin.
M.W.
Anyhoo, all that to say that I stumbled on a blog by an individual claiming to be a Christian fundamentalist. After checking out a half-dozen entries, I discovered the content was that of a raving lunatic claiming to be a Christian fundamentalist. He had choice things to say about a woman becoming President of the United States (shouldn't happen because her menstrual cycle would make her too unbalanced) and even house pets (they should all be culled, and all monies no longer spent on pet food should go to feed the poor).
Now me being a struggling Christian and all, could not resist answering a couple of his posts. I (very nicely, I might add) pointed out that he was wrong complete with request for biblical references supporting his own point of view (something about burning in eternal fire if you own a pet and I own 4 if you don’t count Mr. W. and the girls). Others posted that he was essentially a raving lunatic and an example of why Christianity is something that should be shunned at all costs. Still others were pretty confused and, if you can believe it, actually halfway agreed with him on some points.
You know where this is going, don’t you? As it turns out Dr. Life, as he called himself, was a BIG FAT FAKER! He posted a really, really nasty gloating entry regaling us poor suckers with his own brilliance and everybody else’s stupidity. If he had ‘revealed’ his site as a practical joke, I would have laughed at myself and gone on with my life. But since he proclaimed it to be essentially an experiment in the stupidity of man, I got a little confused. If he is so smart, why does he get his jollies intentionally fooling a bunch of complete strangers only to call them morons (and with language I will not repeat)? The most brilliant people I know have a lot better ways to spend their time. To add additional insult to injury, the ‘twit formerly known as Dr. Life’ deleted the blog. His loss, since I absconded with the blog url and created this.
I'm considering daily updates to his mental health. At least I will be honest in stating that the blog is a complete fraud. Maybe it will give one of us poor sucker idiots a little bit of a grin.
M.W.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Why is it...
that ordinarily it takes us until 9:00 pm to get supper on the table, everyone fed, dishwasher unloaded and reloaded, L. nursed and both kids bathed and in pajamas? When I was home ALONE last night, I had all of the above done by 7:30 (plus an extra session with my breastpump since L. was a little piggy during the day at daycare). Do we just become more inefficient when it is both of us? Is Mr. W. some sort of cosmic slower-downer? Will someone send me some grant money so I can study this phenomenon?
M.W.
M.W.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
39 Days
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. Puff, puff, chug, chug!
In 39 days, L. turns 1 year old, and I plan to put away my breastpump forever. I will probably continue to nurse her mornings, evenings and weekends for a bit longer, and I am sad about the day she will wean. However, I am deliriously happy about the prospect of no longer pumping, counting ounces, worrying about whether the fridge temperature is cool enough, worrying about whether the ice packs will hold out long enough and wondering if milk that is 7 months old but been kept at 0 degrees is still good.
I do not regret the rigors of pumping even one little bit. It helped soothe my working mom guilt by providing breastmilk for my child. Pumping ensured that I continued to lactate for as long as L. wanted to nurse. There is something very fulfilling in packing up L.'s bottles each day knowing that I and only I could provide that nutrition for her. Yes, I am proud of my accomplishment, and I am very, very aware that many other women have tried the same and failed to meet their goals. The knowledge of the grief many of those women feel helps me cherish that this has worked out so well for L. and me.
However, the freedom to go walking during breaks and to enjoy my lunch hour away from my desk beckons as a glimmering shining beacon. A just reward for the sacrifices of the past year. Now, if I can just keep my motivation up. Yesterday I realized I only had 40 days left and now the countdown is firmly planted in my brain.
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. Puff, puff, chug, chug.
M.W.
In 39 days, L. turns 1 year old, and I plan to put away my breastpump forever. I will probably continue to nurse her mornings, evenings and weekends for a bit longer, and I am sad about the day she will wean. However, I am deliriously happy about the prospect of no longer pumping, counting ounces, worrying about whether the fridge temperature is cool enough, worrying about whether the ice packs will hold out long enough and wondering if milk that is 7 months old but been kept at 0 degrees is still good.
I do not regret the rigors of pumping even one little bit. It helped soothe my working mom guilt by providing breastmilk for my child. Pumping ensured that I continued to lactate for as long as L. wanted to nurse. There is something very fulfilling in packing up L.'s bottles each day knowing that I and only I could provide that nutrition for her. Yes, I am proud of my accomplishment, and I am very, very aware that many other women have tried the same and failed to meet their goals. The knowledge of the grief many of those women feel helps me cherish that this has worked out so well for L. and me.
However, the freedom to go walking during breaks and to enjoy my lunch hour away from my desk beckons as a glimmering shining beacon. A just reward for the sacrifices of the past year. Now, if I can just keep my motivation up. Yesterday I realized I only had 40 days left and now the countdown is firmly planted in my brain.
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. Puff, puff, chug, chug.
M.W.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Has it really been a week?
I guess it has been a week since my last entry. Wow does time fly when you're having 'fun.'
Okay, so December 30 S. announced her throat hurt. Mom, Dad and my Grandma were supposed to make the 6 hour drive up to our house to spend the weekend with us that day. I called the family and told them about S.'s throat, and they postponed leaving until we got S. checked out by the on-call pediatrician on Saturday. S. went into the doctor on December 31, and sure enough her strep throat was back with a vengeance. With Grandma's health problems and Dad's future travel plans, the trip was nixed. S. got another round of antibiotics and sulked about Grandmother and Grandfather not coming.
Sunday, January 1, L. woke up with sniffles and coughing. Yippee, another cold. We hope it won't turn into another double ear infections.
Monday, January 2, Mr. W's tonsils swelled to near-golfball proportions and were covered with puss pockets. On-call nurse got on-call doctor to call in a prescription for antibiotics for Mr. W. without requiring an emergency room visit since all clinics were closed.
It's just as well my family didn't come. I would have hated for them to come down with all that crud. However, it would have been nice to have my mom help me out for a couple of days. My mother in law is a saint and would have helped me deal with all the sickos, but she's sick herself with some kind of respiratory something or other.
Wednesday, January 4. I ran fever for 4 hours. Yep, 4 HOURS while everyone around me was dropping like flies. I guess God knew I didn't need to get ferociously sick at the same time everyone else was incapacitated. Still, I half wonder when it's going to be my turn to stay in bed while the world goes on turning without my direct involvement.
L. did not sleep well last night for the second night in a row. I suspected it had to do with the 6 zillion teeth she's trying to cut, but Mr. W. thought it was ear infections since she was pulling on her ears last night. He took L. in to the on-call pediatrician, and her ears are clear thank goodness. I'm glad I was right, but I don't like that we're out another co-pay when there was nothing wrong. Oh well. Better safe than sorry, right?
Anyhoo, I'm off to clean bathrooms while S. is still napping. My dad is making a special trip here before he ships off, and I don't want him to regret staying in our house. With everybody being so sick, housecleaning has been way low on the list of priorities. Time to play catch-up!
M.W.
Okay, so December 30 S. announced her throat hurt. Mom, Dad and my Grandma were supposed to make the 6 hour drive up to our house to spend the weekend with us that day. I called the family and told them about S.'s throat, and they postponed leaving until we got S. checked out by the on-call pediatrician on Saturday. S. went into the doctor on December 31, and sure enough her strep throat was back with a vengeance. With Grandma's health problems and Dad's future travel plans, the trip was nixed. S. got another round of antibiotics and sulked about Grandmother and Grandfather not coming.
Sunday, January 1, L. woke up with sniffles and coughing. Yippee, another cold. We hope it won't turn into another double ear infections.
Monday, January 2, Mr. W's tonsils swelled to near-golfball proportions and were covered with puss pockets. On-call nurse got on-call doctor to call in a prescription for antibiotics for Mr. W. without requiring an emergency room visit since all clinics were closed.
It's just as well my family didn't come. I would have hated for them to come down with all that crud. However, it would have been nice to have my mom help me out for a couple of days. My mother in law is a saint and would have helped me deal with all the sickos, but she's sick herself with some kind of respiratory something or other.
Wednesday, January 4. I ran fever for 4 hours. Yep, 4 HOURS while everyone around me was dropping like flies. I guess God knew I didn't need to get ferociously sick at the same time everyone else was incapacitated. Still, I half wonder when it's going to be my turn to stay in bed while the world goes on turning without my direct involvement.
L. did not sleep well last night for the second night in a row. I suspected it had to do with the 6 zillion teeth she's trying to cut, but Mr. W. thought it was ear infections since she was pulling on her ears last night. He took L. in to the on-call pediatrician, and her ears are clear thank goodness. I'm glad I was right, but I don't like that we're out another co-pay when there was nothing wrong. Oh well. Better safe than sorry, right?
Anyhoo, I'm off to clean bathrooms while S. is still napping. My dad is making a special trip here before he ships off, and I don't want him to regret staying in our house. With everybody being so sick, housecleaning has been way low on the list of priorities. Time to play catch-up!
M.W.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Welcome 2006!
May this year be more joyful and peaceful than last year.
Personal highlights from 2005:
1. January: My dad headed off to Afghanistan, intending to stay for a year.
2. February: L. was born.
3. March: My mother fell and broke both elbows while helping out my grandmother, whose back made it impossible for her to do a great many things for herself. I fell and broke 3 bones in my foot while trying to take care of my mother and grandmother. (You know it's never good when the ER doctor looks at you and says, 'We're not sure how you did this, but...'). Dad returned home from Afghanistan early due to the craziness that began, ironically enough, on the Ides of March.
4. April: S. turned 3. I was still on crutches.
5. May: I returned to work from my maternity leave. I was still on crutches. My co-workers thought it was really funny that I managed to hurt myself so badly while recuperating from childbirth. Yeah, I work with a bunch of characters.
6. June: I finally got off the crutches and in a boot. Hey, as long as I could walk, things were great!
7. July: Executive VP congratulated me on walking less like a drunken pirate. Yeah, I really do work with/for a bunch of characters.
8. August: L. started crawling! Yikes, babyproofing frenzy began! Since S. didn't even roll over until 6 months old, L. caught us by surprise in a big way.
9. September: L. promoted up to the second baby room at daycare and S. promoted up to the second to last class at daycare.
10. October: Celebrated Mr. W. turning 39, and began discussing what to do for him when he hits the big 4-0 next year.
11. November: Celebrated 6 year wedding anniversary and started this blog.
12. December: Found out Dad is returning to Afghanistan sometime in January. Please God, keep him (and the rest of my family) safe this year.
M.W.
Personal highlights from 2005:
1. January: My dad headed off to Afghanistan, intending to stay for a year.
2. February: L. was born.
3. March: My mother fell and broke both elbows while helping out my grandmother, whose back made it impossible for her to do a great many things for herself. I fell and broke 3 bones in my foot while trying to take care of my mother and grandmother. (You know it's never good when the ER doctor looks at you and says, 'We're not sure how you did this, but...'). Dad returned home from Afghanistan early due to the craziness that began, ironically enough, on the Ides of March.
4. April: S. turned 3. I was still on crutches.
5. May: I returned to work from my maternity leave. I was still on crutches. My co-workers thought it was really funny that I managed to hurt myself so badly while recuperating from childbirth. Yeah, I work with a bunch of characters.
6. June: I finally got off the crutches and in a boot. Hey, as long as I could walk, things were great!
7. July: Executive VP congratulated me on walking less like a drunken pirate. Yeah, I really do work with/for a bunch of characters.
8. August: L. started crawling! Yikes, babyproofing frenzy began! Since S. didn't even roll over until 6 months old, L. caught us by surprise in a big way.
9. September: L. promoted up to the second baby room at daycare and S. promoted up to the second to last class at daycare.
10. October: Celebrated Mr. W. turning 39, and began discussing what to do for him when he hits the big 4-0 next year.
11. November: Celebrated 6 year wedding anniversary and started this blog.
12. December: Found out Dad is returning to Afghanistan sometime in January. Please God, keep him (and the rest of my family) safe this year.
M.W.
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