Kate Middleton has always looked familiar to me. Now I know why. (I don't think Kate Middleton is evil or will grow tentacles and turn into Ursula. I just think there's a resemblance there, ya know?)
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
words Blake has said
-Mama
-Dada
-cracker (crahcah)
-water
-Obama
-Al-Qaeda
(The last 3 are probably just random sounds that came together to sound like real words. Or Blake watches the news more often than I do.)
-Dada
-cracker (crahcah)
-water
-Obama
-Al-Qaeda
(The last 3 are probably just random sounds that came together to sound like real words. Or Blake watches the news more often than I do.)
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Things I saw today
-A store called "All Kinda Furniture"-Sounds legit.
-How white my legs are
-A small whirlwind of trash circling around a little girl as the wind kicked up (Ok this was last week, but it's probably pretty common on windy trash days.)
-A guy trying to parallel park in the tiniest space known to man. He actually hit the car in front of and behind him several times to get into the space. Then he got out of the car and said, "It was tight, but I fit." Ummm, I don't think that's called "fitting".
-A mom helping her young son pee on the sidewalk. At least they were trying to be discrete. I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go.
-How white my legs are
-A small whirlwind of trash circling around a little girl as the wind kicked up (Ok this was last week, but it's probably pretty common on windy trash days.)
-A guy trying to parallel park in the tiniest space known to man. He actually hit the car in front of and behind him several times to get into the space. Then he got out of the car and said, "It was tight, but I fit." Ummm, I don't think that's called "fitting".
-A mom helping her young son pee on the sidewalk. At least they were trying to be discrete. I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Adventures with a 1 year old- Bubbles
With the weather warming up I'm going to have to start planning a lot more things to do outside with Blake. This time last year Blake was only a month old so our days were spent mostly inside and mostly in our pajamas. I was a new mom just trying to get a solid hour of uninterrupted sleep.
So now that Blake is 13 months old, is interested in the world around him, can successfully walk without my help, and it's warm enough to be outside, our adventures in toddler-hood are beginning!
Today I decided we'd try playing with bubbles. I figured it would consist of me blowing bubbles and Blake trying to eat stuff off the ground. And that's pretty much how it went.
(10 minutes after the "don't eat that" game)
So now that Blake is 13 months old, is interested in the world around him, can successfully walk without my help, and it's warm enough to be outside, our adventures in toddler-hood are beginning!
Today I decided we'd try playing with bubbles. I figured it would consist of me blowing bubbles and Blake trying to eat stuff off the ground. And that's pretty much how it went.
Me: Who wants to blow some bubbles outside?
Blake: Umm, actually I'd like to climb the steps, Mom.
Blake: Look! A flower! I'm going to eat it!
Me: (loud noise to signal it's not ok to eat)
Me: (loud noise to signal it's not ok to eat)
Blake: (cute giggling) So if I eat this flower, you'll make that sound? I'm going to put everything I see in my mouth! It's a game! It's a game! We're playing a game!
Me: Oh no. I've created a monster.
(10 minutes after the "don't eat that" game)
Blake: Is it time to go in yet? I'm tired of not being able to eat stuff.
Me: No! We're having fun! Oooo I hear a siren!
Blake: Cah! Cah!
Me: Ya it's a car!
Blake: Yea! Loud noises!
Blake: Hey! Where are they going?
Blake: Mmmm, this chipping paint looks delicious! I think I'll...
Me: Nooooo! You'll die if you eat that! Yuck!
Blake: Oh, oh! We're playing that game again! I'm just going to open my mouth and taste it.
Me: I think it's time to go inside.
Blake: Awww man. It was just getting good. We were going to play that game again where I eat stuff and you make loud noises and I laugh an insanely cute laugh so you keep making that noise. Remember that game, Mom?
Me: Yes I remember that game.
Blake: Ok, let's go in.
Blake: You comin'?
Me: Yes, yes I'm coming!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
We have arrived.
I thought I had at least another year. But apparently 1 is the new 2. Or maybe it's just that the recent tantrums one cute, but strong-headed little boy have been throwing will in fact get worse when he turns 2. The only thing that will make his tantrums worse is if/when he starts inflicting pain on himself (i.e. banging of the head on the floor). Maybe I still have another year until that happens. I strongly doubt it.
In reality his tantrums don't really last very long, although I'm already getting looks from people when he decides he doesn't like what I'm making him do (or not letting him do most of the time). And they tend to be the worst when he's tired or hungry. So I can't really be upset at my 1 year old because I get crabby too when I'm hungry and/or tired.
I just don't know where my sweet little, always content, I-don't-care-if-you-take-that-dangerous-thing-away-from-me-I'll-just-play-with-something-else baby went. I'm quickly learning that motherhood never really gets easy. I'm guilty of thinking, "I can't wait until Blake can do this." Or "It will be so nice when Blake can _______". While certain things may get easier, life is never really going to be easy again. Yes, it will be nice when Blake can use the bathroom on his own and tie his shoes, but at that age he'll have an opinion AND words to express it.
So I guess it's on me to take these tantrums in stride. One day I'll wish Blake was 1 year old and throwing tantrums instead of asking me if he can drive to a movie with his friends.
Ya, I'll take the tantrums.
In reality his tantrums don't really last very long, although I'm already getting looks from people when he decides he doesn't like what I'm making him do (or not letting him do most of the time). And they tend to be the worst when he's tired or hungry. So I can't really be upset at my 1 year old because I get crabby too when I'm hungry and/or tired.
I just don't know where my sweet little, always content, I-don't-care-if-you-take-that-dangerous-thing-away-from-me-I'll-just-play-with-something-else baby went. I'm quickly learning that motherhood never really gets easy. I'm guilty of thinking, "I can't wait until Blake can do this." Or "It will be so nice when Blake can _______". While certain things may get easier, life is never really going to be easy again. Yes, it will be nice when Blake can use the bathroom on his own and tie his shoes, but at that age he'll have an opinion AND words to express it.
So I guess it's on me to take these tantrums in stride. One day I'll wish Blake was 1 year old and throwing tantrums instead of asking me if he can drive to a movie with his friends.
Ya, I'll take the tantrums.
Friday, April 22, 2011
shouldn't be surprised
I knew it would happen again. And after I dispose of this one, another one will come along and almost reduce me to tears. But I refused to cry when I found one this time. Luckily it was already stuck to the glue trap on the floor, so I didn't have to chase it down or anything. Still, the thought of something else living in my apartment other than my husband and my son makes me 1) sick to my stomach and 2) angry. Why do disgusting insects have to exist? Why do they have to bother me so much? Why can't they look like cute little cartoon bugs so I could nicely shoo them away instead of wish I owned a bazooka so I could blast them all to h...yes, h. Why do they have to be so stinkin' huge????
I need to go start dinner, but I have to get up the courage to go in the kitchen. I know it seems ridiculous. I'm still way bigger than the stupid thing. No, but seriously, it's big. So I'm deciding on whether or not we should move somewhere else, farther from the subway. It's only the beginning of spring. I don't know how many more of these things I can handle.
(Yes, I'm talking about a roach. Also, I found ants on our bed today after they found a way in through the window. I hate bugs. I worry about finding them so much that I think I've given myself a phobia.)
I need to go start dinner, but I have to get up the courage to go in the kitchen. I know it seems ridiculous. I'm still way bigger than the stupid thing. No, but seriously, it's big. So I'm deciding on whether or not we should move somewhere else, farther from the subway. It's only the beginning of spring. I don't know how many more of these things I can handle.
(Yes, I'm talking about a roach. Also, I found ants on our bed today after they found a way in through the window. I hate bugs. I worry about finding them so much that I think I've given myself a phobia.)
Thursday, April 21, 2011
esophageal distress
That's probably what the 911 dispatcher would have told the responding paramedics if we had actually called 911. It sounds better than, "There's a lady with a chip stuck in her throat. Yes, she can breathe. But the chip is really sharp and is scraping her esophagus." Hence the term I concocted, esophageal distress.
Dinner started out perfectly fine. I made tostadas and was chowing down when I prematurely swallowed a piece of tostada shell. Have you ever taken too big of a bite or not properly chewed your food, then it slowly makes its way down your esophagus in an unpleasant manner? And the whole time you're thinking, "Ugh, just get down there!" Well imagine that happening but with a too-large-to-make-it-safely-down piece of tortilla chip. Ouch. To the max.
As this renegade chip scraped its way down my esophagus, I couldn't help but 1) freak out, thinking, "What if I have to go to the ER, or what if this never goes away?" and 2) cry. Talking was painful. Coughing was almost out of the question. Drinking water wasn't really helping. It was too deep to try to fish out. Evan suggested I eat something in an effort to force the chip down. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I was afraid any other food I ate would just stack itself on top of the chip, creating a bigger problem.
Evan ran to the computer to google the following phrase: sharp chip stuck in throat. After one lady's account of getting a fish bone stuck in her throat with a subsequent plea for help, Evan discovered that drinking water, gentle throat massage, and eating a banana could help. After initially refusing to eat anything, I opted for the banana.
Lo and behold it worked! Bye bye chip o' death! Hello rest of my tostada!
Dinner started out perfectly fine. I made tostadas and was chowing down when I prematurely swallowed a piece of tostada shell. Have you ever taken too big of a bite or not properly chewed your food, then it slowly makes its way down your esophagus in an unpleasant manner? And the whole time you're thinking, "Ugh, just get down there!" Well imagine that happening but with a too-large-to-make-it-safely-down piece of tortilla chip. Ouch. To the max.
As this renegade chip scraped its way down my esophagus, I couldn't help but 1) freak out, thinking, "What if I have to go to the ER, or what if this never goes away?" and 2) cry. Talking was painful. Coughing was almost out of the question. Drinking water wasn't really helping. It was too deep to try to fish out. Evan suggested I eat something in an effort to force the chip down. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I was afraid any other food I ate would just stack itself on top of the chip, creating a bigger problem.
Evan ran to the computer to google the following phrase: sharp chip stuck in throat. After one lady's account of getting a fish bone stuck in her throat with a subsequent plea for help, Evan discovered that drinking water, gentle throat massage, and eating a banana could help. After initially refusing to eat anything, I opted for the banana.
Lo and behold it worked! Bye bye chip o' death! Hello rest of my tostada!
Thursday, April 7, 2011
barf-tastic!
It's a known fact (among my friends and family) that I hate flying for various reasons. The biggest reason is turbulence. There's nothing like turbulence to make you repent of all your wrong-doings, swear you'll be a saint for the rest of your life, and plead with God that the turbulence will stop and that you will land safely.
Now, tied with the biggest reason I hate flying is this: barf. I guess Blake inherited my I-hate-anything-that-feels-like-a-roller-coaster gene. He hates the way elevators make his tummy feel. He doesn't really enjoy being thrown playfully into the air. And he HATES turbulence, just like his mom. This was made glaringly obvious when he spewed the contents of his stomach all over himself and me as we landed in Washington D.C. on Tuesday night. I could tell the turbulence was making him feel funny but had no clue that he was about to refund his dinner (and all associated snacks I had pumped him full of hoping to keep him happy during a 2 hour flight delay and 1 and half hour flight).
The flight attendants and cleaning crew were not too happy that this little 1 year old had ralphed all over seat 20C. But frankly, I couldn't care less. I had to wear said ralphage off the plane, walk through a crowd of people waiting to board the plane I had just flown in on, get my luggage, and change my clothes and my baby's clothes in an airport bathroom. As far as I'm concerned, they should be thanking me that I was able to make a neat little pile of his vomit on the floor. You're welcome, cleaning crew.
So, while I can't control turbulence or know exactly when Blake will get sick on a plane, I WILL be prepared next time. I will be taking a few gallon ziplock bags and have them as ready as I can in case this happens again. I just know the barf bags on the plane won't do the job I need them to do.
I'm also considering getting one of these, just in case.
Now, tied with the biggest reason I hate flying is this: barf. I guess Blake inherited my I-hate-anything-that-feels-like-a-roller-coaster gene. He hates the way elevators make his tummy feel. He doesn't really enjoy being thrown playfully into the air. And he HATES turbulence, just like his mom. This was made glaringly obvious when he spewed the contents of his stomach all over himself and me as we landed in Washington D.C. on Tuesday night. I could tell the turbulence was making him feel funny but had no clue that he was about to refund his dinner (and all associated snacks I had pumped him full of hoping to keep him happy during a 2 hour flight delay and 1 and half hour flight).
The flight attendants and cleaning crew were not too happy that this little 1 year old had ralphed all over seat 20C. But frankly, I couldn't care less. I had to wear said ralphage off the plane, walk through a crowd of people waiting to board the plane I had just flown in on, get my luggage, and change my clothes and my baby's clothes in an airport bathroom. As far as I'm concerned, they should be thanking me that I was able to make a neat little pile of his vomit on the floor. You're welcome, cleaning crew.
So, while I can't control turbulence or know exactly when Blake will get sick on a plane, I WILL be prepared next time. I will be taking a few gallon ziplock bags and have them as ready as I can in case this happens again. I just know the barf bags on the plane won't do the job I need them to do.
I'm also considering getting one of these, just in case.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
confession
The pressurized cans of dough, like Pillsbury crescent rolls, scare me. I hate opening them because I never know exactly when they're going to pop. I know they will pop, just not when. I usually make someone else do it. Evan laughs at me. And you probably are, too.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
6 more things
About 6 months ago I wrote this post on 6 things I've learned since becoming a mom. Now that Blake is a year old, I wanted to write 6 more things I've learned. So, in no particular order:
1. It is possible to get places on time. It just takes preparation and organization.
This mostly applies to Sunday mornings. A few months ago I dreaded Sunday mornings. I'd lay in bed on Saturday night and go over the game plan for the morning. I'd wake up early and shower before Blake woke up. Then I'd get as ready as I could until I heard him wake up. After that it was chaos until we were out the door to catch the train.
One Sunday in particular stands out in my mind. I was ready to go and just needed to get my keys. But, they weren't in my usual "key" place. After searching for a few minutes and calling my husband to ask if he knew where they were, I still had no clue where my keys were. The clock was ticking and I knew we were going to end up being late. I became so enraged that I kicked one of Blake's toys and broke it. Ok, so not one of my better moments in life. I was just so angry that everything was going smoothly so we could make it to church on time and in the blink of an eye it all fell apart. It was on that Sunday that I decided it was my fault for hating Sunday mornings. So now, I get anything I can get ready on Saturday night so I don't have to worry about it on Sunday. And things usually work out nicely.
All bets are off when we have another kid, though.
2. Babies cry. And cry. And cry some more.
I've just kind of gotten used to Blake's crying at this point. It's one of the only ways he can communicate with me at this point in his life.
3. Try to enjoy each stage.
Honestly, it's hard for me to even remember when Blake was first born. I don't really remember him being that small. And that makes me sad. I feel like I was so excited for him to reach each new milestone that I forgot to cherish whatever stage he was in. (Note to self: Cherish him whining about how his duct tape rolled under the couch and he can't reach it. Pretty soon it will be him whining about how we won't let him drive somewhere by himself. Yikes.)
4. I'm really going to have to improve my eating habits.
If I kept a food journal I'd probably be appalled at what I eat. I don't think I eat a lot of unhealthy food, I just don't have a balanced diet. And that's going to have to change. I have to be an example for Blake to look to when it comes to...well pretty much everything, including food. No more brownies for breakfast. (Ok that doesn't really happen...very often.)
5. My whole life revolves around someone other than myself.
It's true. Being a mom means I come last most of the time. My thoughts are made up of what Blake will eat for meals and snacks, when he will nap, doctor appointments, trips to the playground, and things I should be teaching him. And usually that's ok. I am a mother and have a responsibility to care for my child. I try to take time for myself, but sometimes there isn't any time left.
6. I can do it! I can be a mom!
I've said this before, but when Blake was first born, I had a moment of sheer terror. I was alone with Blake. My mom had left and Evan was in New York. It was going to be about 5 weeks of just me and Blake. And I didn't think I could handle it. I thought I had made a mistake. But things got better. Not necessarily easier, but better. Even now, I don't think being a mom is easy. But I'm doing it. And I think I'm doing a pretty good job. At least I'm doing the best that I can. And while there are days that I think about my pre-baby life and sometimes miss it, I wouldn't trade anything for Blake.
1. It is possible to get places on time. It just takes preparation and organization.
This mostly applies to Sunday mornings. A few months ago I dreaded Sunday mornings. I'd lay in bed on Saturday night and go over the game plan for the morning. I'd wake up early and shower before Blake woke up. Then I'd get as ready as I could until I heard him wake up. After that it was chaos until we were out the door to catch the train.
One Sunday in particular stands out in my mind. I was ready to go and just needed to get my keys. But, they weren't in my usual "key" place. After searching for a few minutes and calling my husband to ask if he knew where they were, I still had no clue where my keys were. The clock was ticking and I knew we were going to end up being late. I became so enraged that I kicked one of Blake's toys and broke it. Ok, so not one of my better moments in life. I was just so angry that everything was going smoothly so we could make it to church on time and in the blink of an eye it all fell apart. It was on that Sunday that I decided it was my fault for hating Sunday mornings. So now, I get anything I can get ready on Saturday night so I don't have to worry about it on Sunday. And things usually work out nicely.
All bets are off when we have another kid, though.
2. Babies cry. And cry. And cry some more.
I've just kind of gotten used to Blake's crying at this point. It's one of the only ways he can communicate with me at this point in his life.
3. Try to enjoy each stage.
Honestly, it's hard for me to even remember when Blake was first born. I don't really remember him being that small. And that makes me sad. I feel like I was so excited for him to reach each new milestone that I forgot to cherish whatever stage he was in. (Note to self: Cherish him whining about how his duct tape rolled under the couch and he can't reach it. Pretty soon it will be him whining about how we won't let him drive somewhere by himself. Yikes.)
4. I'm really going to have to improve my eating habits.
If I kept a food journal I'd probably be appalled at what I eat. I don't think I eat a lot of unhealthy food, I just don't have a balanced diet. And that's going to have to change. I have to be an example for Blake to look to when it comes to...well pretty much everything, including food. No more brownies for breakfast. (Ok that doesn't really happen...very often.)
5. My whole life revolves around someone other than myself.
It's true. Being a mom means I come last most of the time. My thoughts are made up of what Blake will eat for meals and snacks, when he will nap, doctor appointments, trips to the playground, and things I should be teaching him. And usually that's ok. I am a mother and have a responsibility to care for my child. I try to take time for myself, but sometimes there isn't any time left.
6. I can do it! I can be a mom!
I've said this before, but when Blake was first born, I had a moment of sheer terror. I was alone with Blake. My mom had left and Evan was in New York. It was going to be about 5 weeks of just me and Blake. And I didn't think I could handle it. I thought I had made a mistake. But things got better. Not necessarily easier, but better. Even now, I don't think being a mom is easy. But I'm doing it. And I think I'm doing a pretty good job. At least I'm doing the best that I can. And while there are days that I think about my pre-baby life and sometimes miss it, I wouldn't trade anything for Blake.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Mama B giveaway....
Hello neat-o toy chest. I would like to own you. Blake has so many toys and he's only a year old. A toy chest like you would house his toys so nicely!
Thanks to Mama B, you have a shot at winning this Guidecraft Spindle toy chest, too! And just in case you wanted to know pretty much all there is to know about cloth diapering, Mama B can help you with that as well. Check her out!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Saturday, April 2, 2011
stuff I saw on the subway today...
-A guy looking at himself with his iPhone and then taking pictures of the back of his head
-A guy trying to make his girlfriend laugh by making his stuffed dinosaur talk. She was laughing. No one else was.
-
Yep, I saw a mullet. Well it was on a lady, so take away the sideburns and mustache. And shorten up the long part.
-A guy trying to make his girlfriend laugh by making his stuffed dinosaur talk. She was laughing. No one else was.
-
 |
| source |
Yep, I saw a mullet. Well it was on a lady, so take away the sideburns and mustache. And shorten up the long part.
Friday, April 1, 2011
tose-tata
This picture doesn't really do it justice. It's probably the most beautiful thing I've ever made/scarfed down.
Deliciously amazing tostadas
1 package Kirkland's frozen pulled pork from Costco
1 package of tostadas
1 can of refried beans
sour cream
lettuce
shredded cheese
1 chopped tomato
1 chopped onion
green salsa
1. Cook pork according to directions
2. Layer tostada shell as so: refried beans, sour cream, lettuce, pork, cheese, tomatoes, onions, green salsa (or however the heck you want to. It's all going to the same place.)
3. Stuff. (Make sure you "stuff" over a plate because this thing gets messy!)
4. For added deliciousness, toast the tostada shell...mmmmmm!
For your viewing pleasure. (skip to 1:55 for the Mexican food bit. Or watch the whole thing because it's that funny and so true.)
| Jokes.com | ||||
| Jim Gaffigan - Bottled Water | ||||
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