While walking Addy to the car from the grocery store and strapping her in, she decided to sing. She does this a lot, and usually randomly. More often than not, nowadays, it is one or two repeated lines from the movie "Frozen." I am sure that I am not the only parent who has experienced this.
She has been known to scream "Here I stand! and here I stand! and here I stand!" while pounding her foot on the ground and making an invisible castle rise up around her.
This time, however, she decided to change the words. I think you'll agree, we have a singer-songwriter on our hands.
The first thing she was "singing" at the top of her lungs was "It's ALL my fault! All my fault!!"
She did this maybe 6 or 7 times. Now, she doesn't know was "fault" really means, at least I don't think she does. If I apologize to her for something I shouldn't have done, like eating her food or raising my voice, I'll usually say, "I'm sorry, i was my fault." She will respond with, "No! It's MY fault!" as if possession of the fault is desirable. Then again, maybe she really does want things to be her fault.
So as I start to put her in the car, she changes the song. "Let it go!! Let it go! Let it GOO!!! HERE I stand! And HERE I stand!"
Adorable, no? But finally, when I get her buckled into her car seat, she starts bobbing her head from side to side and changes up the song entirely. "Peace like a RIVER! Peace like A RIVER! My SOOUUL!!"
It's then that I realize she has just solved every problem of mankind in one three-year-old's song.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Friday, April 11, 2014
Iterative
I am raising my mother.
I've tried to stop it, but life, as Dr. Malcolm once said, will find a way.
It started when I noticed her from behind. Her hair is sandy and very curly, and is in the same shape as my mother's hair. For all intents and purposes, it is my mother's hair. But my wife's hair is also curly, so I could get over this.
My mother has some OCD tendencies towards cleanliness, but not necessarily neatness (that's my father). Addy has been showing signs of both... She pretends to clean the bath tub. Where she gets this from, I don't know. I don't think I've ever cleaned a bath tub with her around. She likes to clean the floor, to clean the table, to clean the sink (which she claims is covered in cat poo because it is brown, but the sink is just cat-poo-brown). She also likes to pile things up (which, if you know my mother, is a bad sign) and straighten things in rows and by type. I know all toddlers do this, but she thrives on it.
When I was younger, my mother would regale us with "her songs." These are usually cute little songs of relatively inappropriate lyrics for adults (but only because we have dirty minds). The one that sticks out most in my mind was entitled, "Wiener City." She would also extemporize. Don't get me wrong - my mother can hold a tune. She taught piano all my life. She knows music. So what would possess her to sing an ode to poo? I swore I would never do this, though I was fully expecting these things to slip into my daily habits once I became a dad. Sadly, it skipped a generation.
Adelaide has been singing. She loves to sing and make up her own songs, though she lacks the technical expertise of someone as experienced as my mother. Today she was singing, or perhaps chanting, "Poo-poo poopy" over and over. I asked if she had to go use the potty. She told me, "No," and then proceeded to renew her Aria de Merde with greater vigor.
...while running around without pants on. She hates them, refuses to wear them. The only difference between the two of them is that my mother will become self-conscious when other people come over and may see her in such a state. My child has not yet learned humiliation.
No one warned me about this.
I've tried to stop it, but life, as Dr. Malcolm once said, will find a way.
It started when I noticed her from behind. Her hair is sandy and very curly, and is in the same shape as my mother's hair. For all intents and purposes, it is my mother's hair. But my wife's hair is also curly, so I could get over this.
My mother has some OCD tendencies towards cleanliness, but not necessarily neatness (that's my father). Addy has been showing signs of both... She pretends to clean the bath tub. Where she gets this from, I don't know. I don't think I've ever cleaned a bath tub with her around. She likes to clean the floor, to clean the table, to clean the sink (which she claims is covered in cat poo because it is brown, but the sink is just cat-poo-brown). She also likes to pile things up (which, if you know my mother, is a bad sign) and straighten things in rows and by type. I know all toddlers do this, but she thrives on it.
When I was younger, my mother would regale us with "her songs." These are usually cute little songs of relatively inappropriate lyrics for adults (but only because we have dirty minds). The one that sticks out most in my mind was entitled, "Wiener City." She would also extemporize. Don't get me wrong - my mother can hold a tune. She taught piano all my life. She knows music. So what would possess her to sing an ode to poo? I swore I would never do this, though I was fully expecting these things to slip into my daily habits once I became a dad. Sadly, it skipped a generation.
Adelaide has been singing. She loves to sing and make up her own songs, though she lacks the technical expertise of someone as experienced as my mother. Today she was singing, or perhaps chanting, "Poo-poo poopy" over and over. I asked if she had to go use the potty. She told me, "No," and then proceeded to renew her Aria de Merde with greater vigor.
...while running around without pants on. She hates them, refuses to wear them. The only difference between the two of them is that my mother will become self-conscious when other people come over and may see her in such a state. My child has not yet learned humiliation.
No one warned me about this.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Conversations with a 3-year-old Part 1
This morning I was awoken by our three-year-old daughter, as is usually the case. She likes to help me get ready in the morning. This is a conversation we had while I was getting dressed.
"Hobo? What's a hobo?" I asked.
"Hobo there! mumbmnnusdf pretty dress!" She opens up her hand to reveal several ribbons and bows.
"Oh! HAIR bows! Not hobos! Can you say 'hair bow?'"
"Hobo!"
"Hair. Bow."
"Ho--bo."
"Hair?"
"Haair!"
"Bow."
"Bow!"
"Hair bow."
"Hairhobo!" At this point I cannot stop laughing. She gets up on the bed behind me. "I wanna hairhobo."
"I'm sure we all want a hairhobo, dear. Where would you like me to put it?"
"No! I lkdlkonmmsld daddy hairhobo!"
And that is the story of why I am currently wearing a hairhobo.
"Hobo? What's a hobo?" I asked.
"Hobo there! mumbmnnusdf pretty dress!" She opens up her hand to reveal several ribbons and bows.
"Oh! HAIR bows! Not hobos! Can you say 'hair bow?'"
"Hobo!"
"Hair. Bow."
"Ho--bo."
"Hair?"
"Haair!"
"Bow."
"Bow!"
"Hair bow."
"Hairhobo!" At this point I cannot stop laughing. She gets up on the bed behind me. "I wanna hairhobo."
"I'm sure we all want a hairhobo, dear. Where would you like me to put it?"
"No! I lkdlkonmmsld daddy hairhobo!"
And that is the story of why I am currently wearing a hairhobo.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Random Update - Addy's Bedtime Revenge
Our kitty, Nimbus, knows that he belongs to our daughter. He followed me and Addy home from a walk one day and got along fine with our kitties, plus not only did Addy fall in love with him instantly, but he took a real shining to her. And that has never gone away. Even though he has gone from being a 3-pound cutie to a 16-pound bruiser, and Addy is now a full-blown toddler, he still puts up with everything she can dish out. She tackles him, hugs him, combs his hair, chases him around, pulls on his tail, puts him in headlocks, tries to carry him around (usually in said headlock), rakes him, tries to water him...
This evening, he decided he was going to sleep on her bed. Now, he loves to sleep under it, and recently he's been sleeping in front of it and on her sheets, but tonight he was actually fast asleep in it. This, apparently, was too much for her. Instead of being happy, she wanted him out of her bed (well, she's 2 1/2. she doesn't really know what she wants yet). Nimbus was all happy being there and didn't want to leave, so Addy, in a fit of revenge, decided that he needed a taste of his own medicine.
She marched out of the room and lay down in Nimbus' cat bed.
Way to show him, kid.
This evening, he decided he was going to sleep on her bed. Now, he loves to sleep under it, and recently he's been sleeping in front of it and on her sheets, but tonight he was actually fast asleep in it. This, apparently, was too much for her. Instead of being happy, she wanted him out of her bed (well, she's 2 1/2. she doesn't really know what she wants yet). Nimbus was all happy being there and didn't want to leave, so Addy, in a fit of revenge, decided that he needed a taste of his own medicine.
She marched out of the room and lay down in Nimbus' cat bed.
Way to show him, kid.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Teeth and Sleep
Sleep has ceased to be a biological function, a luxury, or even a necessity in our household. It has become a commodity, with an exchange rate to the US dollar. And let me tell you, it is valuable stuff.
It all started after I took Addy to her first dentist appointment. Her teeth were, surprisingly, very clean. I was not surprised because we never brush her teeth, but because brushing her teeth involved a one-handed, inverted headlock while sitting on the toilet and blocking her hands and legs with your body, all while trying to maneuver a toothbrush through a pair of lips that could clamp over teeth like a monkey can grip a banana. It was nearly impossible to clean her bottom teeth, and it always ended in tears (often from more than one person). The dentist, however, said that we were right in still trying to brush her teeth (and not just giving in), but that if we lie her on the floor it will be easier. And, it really, really is. Sometimes it only takes one of us to brush her teeth now!
But that is beside the point. The dentist also noted that she is developing an "open bite." That means her canines are contacting before her incisors... so with her mouth closed there's a gap in her front teeth. This is caused by what the doctor called, "The Habit!" (dun-dun-DUN!)
For those not versed in toddler-talk, the Habit is your child's dependence on a pacifier. Pacifiers are a good thing when your child is still young. They help both you and them sleep, they can reduce the risk of SIDS, and they can soothe a crying child fast. Though, I heard that if the pacifier falls out while trying to put your baby down, don't put it back in. When your child's teeth start to come in, however, the constant sucking on a pacifier can eventually push the front teeth (the incisors) apart, resulting in an open bite and the possible need for orthodontics later in life. Our dentist said that a good guideline for when to start weaning your child off the Habit is when he or she can speak while still holding it in his or her mouth.
Now, she recommended we start with nap times, since they are generally short, and then eliminate it for bed time. And during the weaning, the pacifiers always stay in the crib. But Addy... her naps are often 2, 3, or even 4 hours long. And she won't take them unless she falls asleep in my lap. This has never been a problem, until now. Now she does all she can to keep herself awake... she squirms and fiddles, sings along, hits me, kicks, sticks her finger in my eye, grabs at the book I am reading her, and generally whines the entire time. I may have to change how I do this. So nap times are quickly becoming "quiet" times, the emphasis on the "". I put some toys and books in her crib, maybe some water, and leave her be so I can do grown-up things like laundry, dishes, bills, etc. etc. etc. But she won't BE quiet any longer; she'll just scream and throw her books around. This new development is not acceptable.
So now I am finding that I cannot take naps OR do grown-up work during the day. Grown-up work now has to happen at night when Amy is home to watch her and make sure she hasn't learned how to fit a paperclip into an outlet. Not that I keep paperclips around. Night WAS when I tried to work on my writing. I am at the last scene of a novel I've been working on for nearly 2 years, but I cannot seem to get any further. By the time the day is over, I am already exhausted.. then I have to pretend to be an adult and do responsible things. On top of normal bills and the like, we are planning to move soon, so I've been trying to look into everything we need t do for that as well. Plus, Addy will take a lot longer to go to sleep now that she isn't using her pacifier (despite not sleeping for her nap), grating the nerves of everything in the house and interrupting everything we are trying to do (even the cats!) Every night this week, I've either stayed up until 1 or 2, fell asleep on the couch TRYING to write (often at 1 or 2), or gone to bed early. It is no surprise then that when Addy wakes up at a quarter to ungodly-hour, I am dead-to-the-world tired. And although my wife has been taking care of her more in the mornings, which I greatly appreciate, Addy's initial crying always wakes me up and there's no way I'm getting any more REM.
Rinse. Repeat.
So, if someone wants to make a killing, I'm sure there's a huge market in Sleep for the parents of little ones.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Time-out
We've started implementing time-outs with Addy when she does something wrong. Here's how it is supposed to work:
-Addy does something she is not supposed to do. She gets a warning and she'll go into time-out if she does it again.
-Addy does it again. We set out her little time-out mat and set her down in it.
-Addy sits there for one minute per year she has been alive (I'm kinda dreading her 2nd birthday...). If she leaves her spot, we reset the minute.
-When it's over, we tell her why she was in time-out again, tell her not to do it, say we love her, and give her a hug and a kiss.
Now it usually works where she's testing us... seeing how far off the mat she can get before we reset, or running back to the mat when she sees she's gone too far. She laughs - it's a game. At least, until about the 15th time we've had to start over... then she's crying. Eventually she sits there the full minute and more often than not she doesn't do the incorrect behavior again. At least, not for a few hours.
We're still working on some behaviors, like pulling the DVDs, Blue-Rays, and CDs out or standing on her table. To be honest, I'm not sure how to make her understand that these are unacceptable behaviors so she won't do them again. That got me thinking.
When I was a kid, I was spanked a few times, but it was usually the THREAT of being spanked that stopped me from doing something. It's the same with Addy. We tell her that if she does it again, she'll go into time-out, and usually she stops. Just a minute ago, she was sitting next to me, watching me write this, with her hand raised in the air. She was prepared to hit the computer - one of her favorite pastimes. I told her if she did she'd go into time-out and she dropped her hand, did a little disappointed pouty face, and wandered off.
I'm not sure how long our society has favored things like time-out over other punishments, or if it's always been there. It seems to me that we always have these punishments, even as adults.
If I broke the rules (say, robbed a bank), I'd go away to "time-out" (prison) for a while (a long while). And I'm sure that the threat of going to jail prevents a lot of crimes. Just a thought.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Beamline Day The Last
It has finally come to an end! Amy will be returning home tonight! Granted, her flight gets in at around 10:30-ish... and then she has about an hour drive to get here, and she's only had about 4 hours of sleep in the last 36... Well, she may get here tomorrow... by a few minutes.
All last month I'd been trying to get together with a fellow stay-at-home-dad in the same area. We met at the Botanical Gardens, but we've been too busy to really let our kids (both girls around the same age) have any play dates together. Last week it was icing, so we cancelled. This week, well...
Addy has been having a runny nose for a few days now, ever since the storms hit on Tuesday. I figured it was part of teething or the cold weather. Yesterday they didn't let up, but I wasn't too concerned. But this morning it was a little worse, and she was even warmer. Since she's not been getting better, I figured it was time to go to the doctor's. OK, my wife suggested it, but I would have gotten around to it!
Addy was good in the car to the doctor's. She was running around the waiting room, playing hide-and-seek with herself in the mirror and exploring the bathroom. But the moment the nurse practitioner opened the door, she screamed and ran to me. She threw her arms around me tightly and would NOT let go, even for them to take her weight. I guess she remembers those shots...
I was able to calm her down with the doctor came in to see us and she was mostly fine from then on, but the doc gave us less-than-pleasant news. It turns out that, yes, Addy is bona fide sick. RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus) is apparently going around, and Addy got it. To us adults, it's like a cold. To her, it's a bad cold that might last a couple of weeks! And to top it off, both of her ears have ear infections. She probably got it from the play ground we went to on Monday. I hope everyone there is alright. Of course, I probably have it too, and now I'm convinced I have ear sympathy pains.
So now I know why she hasn't been sleeping so well and has been fussier than normal. I get the antibiotics and saline nose spray, run a few chores, and then head home. I dont' want to be out in the cold for very long with a sick toddler! This means that I will instead be homebound all day with a sick toddler. Joy of joys.
Did you catch that sarcasm? Cause I was laying it on pretty thick right there.
I was hoping that the antibiotic would put her to sleep, but it seems to be made out of red bull and fairy dust. After a rather normal, albeit late, lunch, she was bouncing off the walls. Normally she's out pretty fast, especially when I rock with her and sing. This time, she was more interested in tickling my arm, pulling on my facial hair, swinging any limbs that she could, twisting in circles, reading the same book 10 times, and pointing out that there were no kitties in the room at that moment and there most certainly should be. I finally gave up and put her into her crib at around 2, hoping she'll just calm down and sleep. At 2:30, I realize that the contact complaining from her room is not going to end, and when I walk in she's even more awake than ever. Just... shoot me.
I can hardly describe what it is like to be homebound for the 3rd day with a sleepless, sick toddler while I'm feeling sleepless and sick myself, missing Amy, and starting to feel a mixture of ennui and depression coming on. Thankfully, we were able to have a decent dinner and she seems to have gone down for the night fairly well.
If it seems from these last few posts that Addy is a terrible child or that I am a pessimistic, terrible parent, please realize that this is only what I'm letting you see. She's actually a joy to be around 90% of the time... ok, 80%. I also know things could easily get much worse... for instance, I only have one child. One of my facebook friends was talking about having to deal with 3 and a puppy, with biting, vomit, and other unpleasantries all around. I am grateful, I really am. But I also really cannot wait to see my wife and get some me time again.
PS - I mentioned vomit again. Let's see if this boosts my page views.
All last month I'd been trying to get together with a fellow stay-at-home-dad in the same area. We met at the Botanical Gardens, but we've been too busy to really let our kids (both girls around the same age) have any play dates together. Last week it was icing, so we cancelled. This week, well...
Addy has been having a runny nose for a few days now, ever since the storms hit on Tuesday. I figured it was part of teething or the cold weather. Yesterday they didn't let up, but I wasn't too concerned. But this morning it was a little worse, and she was even warmer. Since she's not been getting better, I figured it was time to go to the doctor's. OK, my wife suggested it, but I would have gotten around to it!
Addy was good in the car to the doctor's. She was running around the waiting room, playing hide-and-seek with herself in the mirror and exploring the bathroom. But the moment the nurse practitioner opened the door, she screamed and ran to me. She threw her arms around me tightly and would NOT let go, even for them to take her weight. I guess she remembers those shots...
I was able to calm her down with the doctor came in to see us and she was mostly fine from then on, but the doc gave us less-than-pleasant news. It turns out that, yes, Addy is bona fide sick. RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus) is apparently going around, and Addy got it. To us adults, it's like a cold. To her, it's a bad cold that might last a couple of weeks! And to top it off, both of her ears have ear infections. She probably got it from the play ground we went to on Monday. I hope everyone there is alright. Of course, I probably have it too, and now I'm convinced I have ear sympathy pains.
So now I know why she hasn't been sleeping so well and has been fussier than normal. I get the antibiotics and saline nose spray, run a few chores, and then head home. I dont' want to be out in the cold for very long with a sick toddler! This means that I will instead be homebound all day with a sick toddler. Joy of joys.
Did you catch that sarcasm? Cause I was laying it on pretty thick right there.
I was hoping that the antibiotic would put her to sleep, but it seems to be made out of red bull and fairy dust. After a rather normal, albeit late, lunch, she was bouncing off the walls. Normally she's out pretty fast, especially when I rock with her and sing. This time, she was more interested in tickling my arm, pulling on my facial hair, swinging any limbs that she could, twisting in circles, reading the same book 10 times, and pointing out that there were no kitties in the room at that moment and there most certainly should be. I finally gave up and put her into her crib at around 2, hoping she'll just calm down and sleep. At 2:30, I realize that the contact complaining from her room is not going to end, and when I walk in she's even more awake than ever. Just... shoot me.
I can hardly describe what it is like to be homebound for the 3rd day with a sleepless, sick toddler while I'm feeling sleepless and sick myself, missing Amy, and starting to feel a mixture of ennui and depression coming on. Thankfully, we were able to have a decent dinner and she seems to have gone down for the night fairly well.
If it seems from these last few posts that Addy is a terrible child or that I am a pessimistic, terrible parent, please realize that this is only what I'm letting you see. She's actually a joy to be around 90% of the time... ok, 80%. I also know things could easily get much worse... for instance, I only have one child. One of my facebook friends was talking about having to deal with 3 and a puppy, with biting, vomit, and other unpleasantries all around. I am grateful, I really am. But I also really cannot wait to see my wife and get some me time again.
PS - I mentioned vomit again. Let's see if this boosts my page views.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Beamline Day 3
Every Thursday, Addy and I go to a toddler playground that the local library hosts. It's an hour of songs, some books, toys, and interacting with people our respective ages. After being locked in the house all day yesterday (save for that little stunt to the pharmacy drive-through), I was looking forward to a chance to get out of the house and let her run around. I thought that she would be feeling better, I was wrong.
All day she's has been nothing more than a leaky faucet of snot and drool. I can't even begin to tell you how many tissues I went through wiping her little nose. Or how many times she got to it before I did. It'll be a miracle if I don't catch this as well.
I did not think it safe for Addy to take her out into the cold, now would it be safe to expose other children to her disease, so we stayed home again today. Now I'm starting to get cabin fever.
I wish there was more to say about dealing with a sick one. She's danced, she's sneezed, she's learned how to use the squirt bottle to torment me, the cats, the books, and the computers while giggling madly... We did get to webcam with Amy today, but Addy was preoccupied with my laptop's track pad most of the time. Still, it was very nice to get to see her.
In other news, more people read my blogs than I thought. I consistently get 20 hits per post, and wen I mentioned my child vomiting, I had 4 times that!
Perhaps I should mention vomit on a regular basis...
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Beamline Day 2
I'm not sure how I expected today to go. In retrospect, I'm not sure it really could have gone any other way. I wouldn't say it is the WORST scenario for a stay-at-home parent, but it's certainly an unpleasant one.
For days I've been looking at the weather report and hoping that the meteorologists were wrong. You know, like they usually are. For some reason, however, some upstart intern over at weather.com was actually doing his job and got the prediction correct. Rain. And not just any rain, but severe thunderstorms. And not just severe thunderstorms, but tornado-creating severe thunderstorms, scheduled for the entire day and into tomorrow.
So I decide that it is best not to go out into the tempest that is surely going to start any second now... just looking outside too hard might cause it to drizzle in protest. It would not be wise taking your child to the park when a tornado could pop in at any time and say "Hey, wazzup? Mind if I crash here? kthxbye!" Adelaide had stayed up late the night before, so I figured that she might sleep in a little. No such luck. She was awake and screaming at 6:30, and I was still dead tired. By lunch, Addy had played with the train set, read books, built with her blocks, played music, poured water through various containers, played with her little kitchen set, colored, chased the cat, rearranged the DVDs, tried to kill herself numerous times (usually involving great heights and precarious footholds), and... yes... watched TV. I was running out of ideas. Most of the things I tried with her didn't last very long before she would start to cry again. I figured that she just missed mommy, and frankly, so did I.
When it was finally time to put her down for a nap at 1, the rain decided to come. And boy, did it come down. It was, unfortunately, loud enough to wake Addy up and keep her from going back to sleep. So now I am stuck dealing with a bored, napless toddler in the middle of a downpour. I know I'm not the best dad in the world, but I try. This time, however, I'm running on coffee (of which I rarely partake), and I'm not sure what else to do. The internet was down, and all she wanted to do was have me hold her... so I put on another movie. I know the experts say to not let her watch TV until she's 2, but we're just going to have to deal with the consequences now, aren't we? I do eventually get some chores done, and she decides she would like to wander around the house crying instead of just doing it in my lap.
After a while, I, in my holmesian attention to detail, notice that her head is warm. Actually, it's quite hot. Now Adelaide has been teething her molars for quite some time, so I figure that is likely the culprit. I will be keeping an eye on her. Of course, we're out of medicine for her. By this point it is nearing 4:30. I look outside and the rain has really let up. We had been in a tornado warning (not just watch, WARNING, as in danger Will Robinson) until 4:30, so I figure it's a good idea to go out to the store and get some children's tylenol.
I dress her warmly and bundle her in my coat, then run through the rain to the car to keep her as dry and warm as possible. The store is about 2 minutes away, so I'm sure this trip will be nothing special. And it was, until about 2.7 seconds before I parked. I pull into the closest parking spot to the grocery store and the sky opens up. Still, it's not THAT far, and I've got a huge umbrella. I can keep Addy dry. Grabbing the umbrella, I step out into the deluge only to have it instantly become something akin to Niagara Falls. I expect to see an ark floating down the street anytime, if I could see that far. The worst part wasn't the rain... I was stuck with one leg in the back seat, the other outside, trying to hold onto the umbrella as the wind picked up. I'd like to say that I've felt strong winds before, but they've never actually been strong enough to threaten tearing an umbrella out of my hand, unbalance me, and make it just a little harder to breathe. I shut the umbrella, get soaked, and climb into the backseat next to the car seat with the door slammed shut. And wait.
Addy is having a great time as the car is rocked from the wind and pelted with liquid sky bullets. I am having a heart attack. Strange vibrations were passing through the ground and into the car like I was on a bridge and some truck was driving over it a few feet away. I could hear trucks, or trains, but I really have no idea if I did or not. I couldn't see anything out of the window. I wait, praying that it's just my imagination and not an actual tornado. There was no way I could keep Addy warm and dry in this. It doesn't seem to be letting up, so I squeeze to the front seat and start up the car to park it under the little drive-up pharmacy. Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Never used it. Well, it works, and not only will they give you prescription medicines, but they'll also help you out and give you children's tylenol!
I wish I could say that was the end of the weather problems for the day, but it wasn't. Now I've got tornados on the brain. Every time a train goes by, I swear it's a tornado. And my heart clings onto my tonsils when the radio is interrupted while I'm cooking dinner with an Emergency Broadcast System message. "Tornados have been seen in the following counties:" it starts off, then begins listing from North Carolina and heading closer to me. When they stop at "Greenville County," I give a sigh of relief and realize I was already contemplating how quickly I could throw Addy in the bathtub and if I would have time to wrangle the cats. If I could only save one, which would it be?
The rest of the day was relatively normal sans mommy. Which is to say, the next hour. Hopefully she will be feeling well enough tomorrow that we can head out to Wiggles and Giggles, but we'll see.
For days I've been looking at the weather report and hoping that the meteorologists were wrong. You know, like they usually are. For some reason, however, some upstart intern over at weather.com was actually doing his job and got the prediction correct. Rain. And not just any rain, but severe thunderstorms. And not just severe thunderstorms, but tornado-creating severe thunderstorms, scheduled for the entire day and into tomorrow.
So I decide that it is best not to go out into the tempest that is surely going to start any second now... just looking outside too hard might cause it to drizzle in protest. It would not be wise taking your child to the park when a tornado could pop in at any time and say "Hey, wazzup? Mind if I crash here? kthxbye!" Adelaide had stayed up late the night before, so I figured that she might sleep in a little. No such luck. She was awake and screaming at 6:30, and I was still dead tired. By lunch, Addy had played with the train set, read books, built with her blocks, played music, poured water through various containers, played with her little kitchen set, colored, chased the cat, rearranged the DVDs, tried to kill herself numerous times (usually involving great heights and precarious footholds), and... yes... watched TV. I was running out of ideas. Most of the things I tried with her didn't last very long before she would start to cry again. I figured that she just missed mommy, and frankly, so did I.
When it was finally time to put her down for a nap at 1, the rain decided to come. And boy, did it come down. It was, unfortunately, loud enough to wake Addy up and keep her from going back to sleep. So now I am stuck dealing with a bored, napless toddler in the middle of a downpour. I know I'm not the best dad in the world, but I try. This time, however, I'm running on coffee (of which I rarely partake), and I'm not sure what else to do. The internet was down, and all she wanted to do was have me hold her... so I put on another movie. I know the experts say to not let her watch TV until she's 2, but we're just going to have to deal with the consequences now, aren't we? I do eventually get some chores done, and she decides she would like to wander around the house crying instead of just doing it in my lap.
After a while, I, in my holmesian attention to detail, notice that her head is warm. Actually, it's quite hot. Now Adelaide has been teething her molars for quite some time, so I figure that is likely the culprit. I will be keeping an eye on her. Of course, we're out of medicine for her. By this point it is nearing 4:30. I look outside and the rain has really let up. We had been in a tornado warning (not just watch, WARNING, as in danger Will Robinson) until 4:30, so I figure it's a good idea to go out to the store and get some children's tylenol.
I dress her warmly and bundle her in my coat, then run through the rain to the car to keep her as dry and warm as possible. The store is about 2 minutes away, so I'm sure this trip will be nothing special. And it was, until about 2.7 seconds before I parked. I pull into the closest parking spot to the grocery store and the sky opens up. Still, it's not THAT far, and I've got a huge umbrella. I can keep Addy dry. Grabbing the umbrella, I step out into the deluge only to have it instantly become something akin to Niagara Falls. I expect to see an ark floating down the street anytime, if I could see that far. The worst part wasn't the rain... I was stuck with one leg in the back seat, the other outside, trying to hold onto the umbrella as the wind picked up. I'd like to say that I've felt strong winds before, but they've never actually been strong enough to threaten tearing an umbrella out of my hand, unbalance me, and make it just a little harder to breathe. I shut the umbrella, get soaked, and climb into the backseat next to the car seat with the door slammed shut. And wait.
Addy is having a great time as the car is rocked from the wind and pelted with liquid sky bullets. I am having a heart attack. Strange vibrations were passing through the ground and into the car like I was on a bridge and some truck was driving over it a few feet away. I could hear trucks, or trains, but I really have no idea if I did or not. I couldn't see anything out of the window. I wait, praying that it's just my imagination and not an actual tornado. There was no way I could keep Addy warm and dry in this. It doesn't seem to be letting up, so I squeeze to the front seat and start up the car to park it under the little drive-up pharmacy. Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Never used it. Well, it works, and not only will they give you prescription medicines, but they'll also help you out and give you children's tylenol!
I wish I could say that was the end of the weather problems for the day, but it wasn't. Now I've got tornados on the brain. Every time a train goes by, I swear it's a tornado. And my heart clings onto my tonsils when the radio is interrupted while I'm cooking dinner with an Emergency Broadcast System message. "Tornados have been seen in the following counties:" it starts off, then begins listing from North Carolina and heading closer to me. When they stop at "Greenville County," I give a sigh of relief and realize I was already contemplating how quickly I could throw Addy in the bathtub and if I would have time to wrangle the cats. If I could only save one, which would it be?
The rest of the day was relatively normal sans mommy. Which is to say, the next hour. Hopefully she will be feeling well enough tomorrow that we can head out to Wiggles and Giggles, but we'll see.
Beamline Day 1
My wife has some important work to do at a Beamline (don't know, don't ask) in another state this week, so she is not home. In fact, she left earlier today, and has been in airports or on planes ever since. It is now my job to distract Addy from the fact that mommy is MIA.
Today, after she took a nap, I decided we would spend the afternoon at the zoo, using our membership there one last time before it expires. I have a couple of guest tickets to hand out as well. This quickly escalated into a major trip to Greenville, but that's alright. Greenville is not exactly a stone's throw away, so if I'm going to go, I'd rather make it worth the time and effort.
Addy got up at around 3, but we didn't get out of the house until closer to 3:30. So by the time we got down into Greenville, I realized that I would have to go to the zoo first and run the other errands later. But when we get there, the gates are shut and there is a note that looks like they printed it in a hurry saying "The Zoo is closed today." No explanation given. Determined to make this a good day, I instead take ADdy to the park next door to the zoo. She had a blast, but seemed drawn to dangerous things like a moth to a flamethrower. I turn around and... how did she get up there? No Addy, you can't climb the rope course, please don't try. That's a big kid bike. Why haven't you developed a fear of sheer drops twice your height? Although, I did manage to give away the two guest tickets that our membership provided (we used the others, but they go bad at the end of the month), I also had to run myself ragged trying to do that and keep an eye on her.
Does God think it's funny to leave out the self-preservation instinct until they're too old to really need it?
After that, we went to the local brew supply store. We've made a few brews, but Amy's favorite was the first one, a Full Sail Amber Ale clone. I called it Dirty Red B@$t@rd. It's technically a Red Ale... and it had bits of carbon in the bottom from our water filter, plus it was unfiltered, so it looked dirty... and I named it before Addy was imitating everything I said so... maybe I'll think of a new name.
It took a while to get the ingredients. I dropped by at the same time all of his other customers apparently decided to... all of them middle-aged working white men on their ways home. But Addy certainly had fun trying to rearrange the magazine rack and touch everything. EVERYTHING. It's like she had a bet with the cats that she could mark more territory than they could.
After that.. dinner! We went to a Mediterranean place I love, Pita House. May be our last time there before we move, unfortunately. I wasn't sure what Addy would eat, so I decided to give her a taste of my gyro meat, falafel, pita, tahini salad, etc, and see if she'd eat any of it. When the food arrived, they made her a grilled cheese sandwich for free! Awesome! And she ate it! Double awesome! Plus it urns out she thinks falafel are alright and gyro is apparently worthy of deception and bargaining to get more of. On her part, too.
On the way back, we went to Radio Shack. I like Guitar Hero. I'm good at it. And when Rock Band and Guitar Hero started offering drums, I had to get in on that action. My sister got one for me! Nearly two years ago, a few months after Addy was born, we hosted a play date for a bunch of really young kids while I wasn't home. In that play date, one of the children managed to pull a cord that I had taped up specifically to make it invisible to our cord-chewing cats, and yanked the wire out of the little plug violently. The entire wire came out, fraying it and preventing me from being able to repair it. The poor thing never even got played more than once. Well, it had been stashed away in the office and I recently decided that it was time to fix and use the darn thing. I got what I needed a Radio Shack, a new jack with spliceable cord attached... I spliced the parts together and wrapped them in electrical tape. I don't know if it worked, though... as I'm too scared to try it out. Perhaps I will tomorrow? Anyway, the only thing that allowed me to get this cord was the fact that they have little phones on display, and one of those phones was a smart phone that ACTUALLY WORKED and was within grabbing distance of Addy's little fingers. That little thing kept her occupied for half an hour without me having to do a darn thing. Let's just hope the next person to look at that phone doesn't find a trail of incriminating evidence that leads to her arrest. <.<
After that, Addy decided it was time to cry on the way home. She refused all attempts to appease her, so I was left with only one option: deal with it. For some reason, just her crying in the backseat feels like running a marathon. I'm sweaty, my knuckles are white, when I get out of the car I'm shaking, and I once I get home my body just collapses from fatigue.
So, yes, I survived the first day (I won't count the fact that it was little more than half a day technically). Let's see how Day 2 fares.
Today, after she took a nap, I decided we would spend the afternoon at the zoo, using our membership there one last time before it expires. I have a couple of guest tickets to hand out as well. This quickly escalated into a major trip to Greenville, but that's alright. Greenville is not exactly a stone's throw away, so if I'm going to go, I'd rather make it worth the time and effort.
Addy got up at around 3, but we didn't get out of the house until closer to 3:30. So by the time we got down into Greenville, I realized that I would have to go to the zoo first and run the other errands later. But when we get there, the gates are shut and there is a note that looks like they printed it in a hurry saying "The Zoo is closed today." No explanation given. Determined to make this a good day, I instead take ADdy to the park next door to the zoo. She had a blast, but seemed drawn to dangerous things like a moth to a flamethrower. I turn around and... how did she get up there? No Addy, you can't climb the rope course, please don't try. That's a big kid bike. Why haven't you developed a fear of sheer drops twice your height? Although, I did manage to give away the two guest tickets that our membership provided (we used the others, but they go bad at the end of the month), I also had to run myself ragged trying to do that and keep an eye on her.
Does God think it's funny to leave out the self-preservation instinct until they're too old to really need it?
After that, we went to the local brew supply store. We've made a few brews, but Amy's favorite was the first one, a Full Sail Amber Ale clone. I called it Dirty Red B@$t@rd. It's technically a Red Ale... and it had bits of carbon in the bottom from our water filter, plus it was unfiltered, so it looked dirty... and I named it before Addy was imitating everything I said so... maybe I'll think of a new name.
It took a while to get the ingredients. I dropped by at the same time all of his other customers apparently decided to... all of them middle-aged working white men on their ways home. But Addy certainly had fun trying to rearrange the magazine rack and touch everything. EVERYTHING. It's like she had a bet with the cats that she could mark more territory than they could.
After that.. dinner! We went to a Mediterranean place I love, Pita House. May be our last time there before we move, unfortunately. I wasn't sure what Addy would eat, so I decided to give her a taste of my gyro meat, falafel, pita, tahini salad, etc, and see if she'd eat any of it. When the food arrived, they made her a grilled cheese sandwich for free! Awesome! And she ate it! Double awesome! Plus it urns out she thinks falafel are alright and gyro is apparently worthy of deception and bargaining to get more of. On her part, too.
On the way back, we went to Radio Shack. I like Guitar Hero. I'm good at it. And when Rock Band and Guitar Hero started offering drums, I had to get in on that action. My sister got one for me! Nearly two years ago, a few months after Addy was born, we hosted a play date for a bunch of really young kids while I wasn't home. In that play date, one of the children managed to pull a cord that I had taped up specifically to make it invisible to our cord-chewing cats, and yanked the wire out of the little plug violently. The entire wire came out, fraying it and preventing me from being able to repair it. The poor thing never even got played more than once. Well, it had been stashed away in the office and I recently decided that it was time to fix and use the darn thing. I got what I needed a Radio Shack, a new jack with spliceable cord attached... I spliced the parts together and wrapped them in electrical tape. I don't know if it worked, though... as I'm too scared to try it out. Perhaps I will tomorrow? Anyway, the only thing that allowed me to get this cord was the fact that they have little phones on display, and one of those phones was a smart phone that ACTUALLY WORKED and was within grabbing distance of Addy's little fingers. That little thing kept her occupied for half an hour without me having to do a darn thing. Let's just hope the next person to look at that phone doesn't find a trail of incriminating evidence that leads to her arrest. <.<
After that, Addy decided it was time to cry on the way home. She refused all attempts to appease her, so I was left with only one option: deal with it. For some reason, just her crying in the backseat feels like running a marathon. I'm sweaty, my knuckles are white, when I get out of the car I'm shaking, and I once I get home my body just collapses from fatigue.
So, yes, I survived the first day (I won't count the fact that it was little more than half a day technically). Let's see how Day 2 fares.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Dinner Improbable
A large part of what I do everyday, other than watching and teaching and playing with Addy, is making dinner. This particular responsibility is not one I shy away from and I often tackle somewhat complicated meals because I enjoy cooking.
However, today's little venture into cuisine was less than exemplary. It started out last night when we started to make some chicken stock that was supposed to sit for 6 - 24 hours. This means that the whole chicken in the pot for a very long time. This morning it finished, so I tried to use tongs to remove the chicken whole. It was working, too, until gravity kicked in. Suddenly, the tongs ripped through the body of the chicken like Rush Limbaugh tearing apart a Big Mac. Bones the size of mice fingers went scattering into the stock and I was left holding a mass of skin and cartilage. So I spend the next hour or so fishing out random pieces of meat and bone and placing them into various baggies for various reasons. The rest of the day involved running errands, doing laundry, and putting Addy down for a nap... until about 3:30, when it was time to start dinner.
We like to have dinner about 5 or 6. so I figure 3:30 is a good time to start. We're going to have stuffed cabbage, so I follow the recipe and put a head of cabbage into a pot of water to steam it. For some reason, time starts to move wrong. After what seems 10 minutes of cooking, it's 4:30, though perhaps this is because during this whole shebang I'm also having to watch Addy. I'm making the filling as fast as I can, but each time I look at the recipe it gets longer and longer and the pan has less and less room. I was amazed by how much they think will fit into a single cabbage. After I finish the filling, the recipe calls for me to stuff each individual leaf with the stuff and put it in a casserole dish. This was easier said than done. Both the cabbage and the filling were about 10,000 degrees Kelvin, which is coincidentally the temperature at which the human hand melts. After trying to stuff them, I then have to roll the cabbage leaves up, but they won't stay that way. After that, for some reason the recipe has me cooking the things again for an hour while swimming in the chicken broth I made, which just washes out all the spices. About this time, Amy gets home and dinner is already late. Addy had to eat something else and get put to bed long before the food was ready.
When I pulled out the cabbage rolls from the oven, I had to take out each individual roll with tongs and leave the liquid behind. By this point, the leaves have been steamed or baked for near an hour and a half. They are see-through and held together by hope and faerie farts. Tongs tear them to shreds so that I am left with a quivering mass of filling and cabbage on a plate and a pot filled with stock and filling. I am hoping and praying that they are done, but no. There's another PARAGRAPH of directions in the ingredients that involve reducing the stock and turning it into a delicious sauce. So I put it on the burner and sit down. A few minutes later, Amy and I smell the concoction burning itself into a mass of carbon on the bottom of the dutch oven. Of course all the stock is gone and it is fairly inedible. We eat the rolls but it wasn't nearly as flavorful as I had hoped it would be.
I am rather depressed that this was such a failed recipe. Sure, it could be worse, but Addy didn't eat it and I spent all day on a mediocre meal. I'm not sure who is to blame, if anyone, but after spending most of the day trying to fix this darn meal, it's hard not to think it was my fault. Hopefully, this will be the last epic fail at meal time.
However, today's little venture into cuisine was less than exemplary. It started out last night when we started to make some chicken stock that was supposed to sit for 6 - 24 hours. This means that the whole chicken in the pot for a very long time. This morning it finished, so I tried to use tongs to remove the chicken whole. It was working, too, until gravity kicked in. Suddenly, the tongs ripped through the body of the chicken like Rush Limbaugh tearing apart a Big Mac. Bones the size of mice fingers went scattering into the stock and I was left holding a mass of skin and cartilage. So I spend the next hour or so fishing out random pieces of meat and bone and placing them into various baggies for various reasons. The rest of the day involved running errands, doing laundry, and putting Addy down for a nap... until about 3:30, when it was time to start dinner.
We like to have dinner about 5 or 6. so I figure 3:30 is a good time to start. We're going to have stuffed cabbage, so I follow the recipe and put a head of cabbage into a pot of water to steam it. For some reason, time starts to move wrong. After what seems 10 minutes of cooking, it's 4:30, though perhaps this is because during this whole shebang I'm also having to watch Addy. I'm making the filling as fast as I can, but each time I look at the recipe it gets longer and longer and the pan has less and less room. I was amazed by how much they think will fit into a single cabbage. After I finish the filling, the recipe calls for me to stuff each individual leaf with the stuff and put it in a casserole dish. This was easier said than done. Both the cabbage and the filling were about 10,000 degrees Kelvin, which is coincidentally the temperature at which the human hand melts. After trying to stuff them, I then have to roll the cabbage leaves up, but they won't stay that way. After that, for some reason the recipe has me cooking the things again for an hour while swimming in the chicken broth I made, which just washes out all the spices. About this time, Amy gets home and dinner is already late. Addy had to eat something else and get put to bed long before the food was ready.
When I pulled out the cabbage rolls from the oven, I had to take out each individual roll with tongs and leave the liquid behind. By this point, the leaves have been steamed or baked for near an hour and a half. They are see-through and held together by hope and faerie farts. Tongs tear them to shreds so that I am left with a quivering mass of filling and cabbage on a plate and a pot filled with stock and filling. I am hoping and praying that they are done, but no. There's another PARAGRAPH of directions in the ingredients that involve reducing the stock and turning it into a delicious sauce. So I put it on the burner and sit down. A few minutes later, Amy and I smell the concoction burning itself into a mass of carbon on the bottom of the dutch oven. Of course all the stock is gone and it is fairly inedible. We eat the rolls but it wasn't nearly as flavorful as I had hoped it would be.
I am rather depressed that this was such a failed recipe. Sure, it could be worse, but Addy didn't eat it and I spent all day on a mediocre meal. I'm not sure who is to blame, if anyone, but after spending most of the day trying to fix this darn meal, it's hard not to think it was my fault. Hopefully, this will be the last epic fail at meal time.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Happy New Year
This Christmas, my family went up to the DC area to see my parents, along with both of my sisters and get a chance to meet my 4-month old niece. We had a lovely time and I wish we could have stayed longer, but this post is not about Christmas, my family, or anything like that. Perhaps another time I can regale you with story of the Clan. This post, however, is about why we were late coming back.
We were fully intent on returning home on the 29th, Saturday. We had an obligation at church on Sunday that we wanted to fulfill. Now, there had been some talk on snow falling the night before and we weren't certain we wanted to risk driving in it to come home. Mom and dad said that they would watch Addy all day so that if we wanted to stay, we could just relax. I had, in fact, been counting on it, and let myself get caught in a somewhat productive conversation with my sister (the one with the baby had left already) about writing until 3 or 4 in the morning. But when we woke up that morning, we learned that the weathermen had, lo and behold, lied to us yet again. The streets were clear. Huzzah... time to pack the car. But first, breakfast!
Addy is being her happy self; at least after I give her some milk to drink she is. She likes to wander around the kitchen watching me make breakfast for her while drinking her milk in her sippy cup. I had actually intended to make breakfast for Addy and bring up some more for Amy! I broke open 5 eggs, added parmesan and milk and was about to add some herbs (I make GOOD eggs) when Addy suddenly vomits all over the kitchen. Twice. I'm practically standing in the stuff and so is she. So, of course, other than crying, the first thing she does is try to walk through it to me. I toss the eggs aside and plead with her to stay where she is while I go around the island to drag her out of her own stomach contents. As I hold her in the air trying to figure out how to keep my mother's operating-room-clean house from getting even more contaminated, I realize that we aren't going to be going anywhere that day. Well, at least I have eggs for Amy, I'm sure she'll love breakfast in bed.
I take Addy upstairs to give her a bath, but on the way up I run into Amy. Guess what! She's feeling nauseous, too! Yeah, definitely not going anywhere. We give Addy a bath and change her clothes, then I head back downstairs to the wonderful smell that is now filling the kitchen. After cleaning it, the LAST thing I want to do is eat. Oh, and Amy only wants toast. I guess... my parents might like eggs?
I've never had to handle a truly sick Addy before, and let me tell you, she doesn't like being sick. It is hard to get her to calm down when she's not feeling good. I'm watching her, trying to do laundry (now that there is definitely laundry that needs to be done), still packing things up in the hope that we might leave on Sunday, calling a variety of people to make sure that our obligations are church are met and our cats back home are fed, and I'm dead tired and have a headache by 8am. Dad doesn't get up until about 10:30, mom about 11:30, and my sister until... well, it was past noon.
Eventually the eggs do get eaten, or at least most of them do. Although very grateful to have parents to watch Addy, by the time they are up and ready to do so I am "done" and so is she. She didn't feel well enough to take a nap, which always spells disaster, and eventually we realize that all she really wants is me. Now it does feel good to be loved and needed, but at the same time it feels good to have a break from it now and then.
The next day, Amy felt well enough to head home, and Addy hadn't thrown up for about 24 hours, so I pack up the car in record time and off we go! It was later than we would have liked, nonetheless, and by the end of the 10-and-a-half-hour-drive both Addy and Amy have had enough. I've never been so happy to go to sleep at 9:30.
One would think this is the end of the affair. I certainly did. The next day was New Year's Eve and we had made plans with some close friends to celebrate an early New Year's countdown with Addy (Sesame Street likes to do it at 8). Afterwards, we were going to head over to another friend's house to have the real thing, this time with games, alcohol, and bad-for-you foods. It was going to be perfect! Sure, Amy wasn't feeling good again but... oh, she's REALLY not feeling good... well, Addy and I can go and we can still make it to.... oh, one of our friends got bronchitis... We quickly realize that it is safer if we don't expose Addy to bronchitis. Curses! It seems everyone I know is sick. Our friends decide to reschedule. Amy was going to stay home with Addy anyway, so I'm hoping our other friend can make it with me to the party.... but he doesn't want to leave his wife sick at home with bronchitis on New Year's Eve. Now I get to go to the party alone and feel guilty about it! :P
Well, the party was great. I got to see some friends I hadn't seen in a while because they moved! I had some delicious food and we were playing Rock Band. I was just about to start up one of my favorite songs to sing (Panic Attack by Dream Theater) when my phone rings. It's Amy. Addy threw up again.
I rush home to find Addy in the bath, her room wreaking of vomit, and vomit all over her crib. We cleaned her up, did the laundry, cleaned the crib (though I'm still trying to figure out how to get the smell of vomit out of a stuffed animal), and I put on The Adventures of Tintin while holding Addy. It takes a while before we get her to sleep again...
So, I ring in the New Year with my sick wife and kid. The next day I find out BOTH of our close friends got bronchitis. Several of my friends on Facebook are out-of-commission because of various sicknesses. Amy's lab partner has been out sick. It is only a matter of time before it gets me, too.
My resolution for this year? Don't go crazy taking care of sick people.
We were fully intent on returning home on the 29th, Saturday. We had an obligation at church on Sunday that we wanted to fulfill. Now, there had been some talk on snow falling the night before and we weren't certain we wanted to risk driving in it to come home. Mom and dad said that they would watch Addy all day so that if we wanted to stay, we could just relax. I had, in fact, been counting on it, and let myself get caught in a somewhat productive conversation with my sister (the one with the baby had left already) about writing until 3 or 4 in the morning. But when we woke up that morning, we learned that the weathermen had, lo and behold, lied to us yet again. The streets were clear. Huzzah... time to pack the car. But first, breakfast!
Addy is being her happy self; at least after I give her some milk to drink she is. She likes to wander around the kitchen watching me make breakfast for her while drinking her milk in her sippy cup. I had actually intended to make breakfast for Addy and bring up some more for Amy! I broke open 5 eggs, added parmesan and milk and was about to add some herbs (I make GOOD eggs) when Addy suddenly vomits all over the kitchen. Twice. I'm practically standing in the stuff and so is she. So, of course, other than crying, the first thing she does is try to walk through it to me. I toss the eggs aside and plead with her to stay where she is while I go around the island to drag her out of her own stomach contents. As I hold her in the air trying to figure out how to keep my mother's operating-room-clean house from getting even more contaminated, I realize that we aren't going to be going anywhere that day. Well, at least I have eggs for Amy, I'm sure she'll love breakfast in bed.
I take Addy upstairs to give her a bath, but on the way up I run into Amy. Guess what! She's feeling nauseous, too! Yeah, definitely not going anywhere. We give Addy a bath and change her clothes, then I head back downstairs to the wonderful smell that is now filling the kitchen. After cleaning it, the LAST thing I want to do is eat. Oh, and Amy only wants toast. I guess... my parents might like eggs?
I've never had to handle a truly sick Addy before, and let me tell you, she doesn't like being sick. It is hard to get her to calm down when she's not feeling good. I'm watching her, trying to do laundry (now that there is definitely laundry that needs to be done), still packing things up in the hope that we might leave on Sunday, calling a variety of people to make sure that our obligations are church are met and our cats back home are fed, and I'm dead tired and have a headache by 8am. Dad doesn't get up until about 10:30, mom about 11:30, and my sister until... well, it was past noon.
Eventually the eggs do get eaten, or at least most of them do. Although very grateful to have parents to watch Addy, by the time they are up and ready to do so I am "done" and so is she. She didn't feel well enough to take a nap, which always spells disaster, and eventually we realize that all she really wants is me. Now it does feel good to be loved and needed, but at the same time it feels good to have a break from it now and then.
The next day, Amy felt well enough to head home, and Addy hadn't thrown up for about 24 hours, so I pack up the car in record time and off we go! It was later than we would have liked, nonetheless, and by the end of the 10-and-a-half-hour-drive both Addy and Amy have had enough. I've never been so happy to go to sleep at 9:30.
One would think this is the end of the affair. I certainly did. The next day was New Year's Eve and we had made plans with some close friends to celebrate an early New Year's countdown with Addy (Sesame Street likes to do it at 8). Afterwards, we were going to head over to another friend's house to have the real thing, this time with games, alcohol, and bad-for-you foods. It was going to be perfect! Sure, Amy wasn't feeling good again but... oh, she's REALLY not feeling good... well, Addy and I can go and we can still make it to.... oh, one of our friends got bronchitis... We quickly realize that it is safer if we don't expose Addy to bronchitis. Curses! It seems everyone I know is sick. Our friends decide to reschedule. Amy was going to stay home with Addy anyway, so I'm hoping our other friend can make it with me to the party.... but he doesn't want to leave his wife sick at home with bronchitis on New Year's Eve. Now I get to go to the party alone and feel guilty about it! :P
Well, the party was great. I got to see some friends I hadn't seen in a while because they moved! I had some delicious food and we were playing Rock Band. I was just about to start up one of my favorite songs to sing (Panic Attack by Dream Theater) when my phone rings. It's Amy. Addy threw up again.
I rush home to find Addy in the bath, her room wreaking of vomit, and vomit all over her crib. We cleaned her up, did the laundry, cleaned the crib (though I'm still trying to figure out how to get the smell of vomit out of a stuffed animal), and I put on The Adventures of Tintin while holding Addy. It takes a while before we get her to sleep again...
So, I ring in the New Year with my sick wife and kid. The next day I find out BOTH of our close friends got bronchitis. Several of my friends on Facebook are out-of-commission because of various sicknesses. Amy's lab partner has been out sick. It is only a matter of time before it gets me, too.
My resolution for this year? Don't go crazy taking care of sick people.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Merry Christmas '12
This Christmas Season, my family went to visit my mom and dad 600 miles away. We also got to meet up with our new niece and Addy's cousin, Callie! It has been a wonderful trip! Addy is still a little bit too young to really understand what Christmas is all about and my family usually takes hours (all day) to open gifts, so that was too much for her. But, all in all, things have worked out well! Congratulations to Callie on her baptism!
So here's a short little post about Addy. I like to say that she is a mimic, and it is true. She tries to dance, she copies everything she sees, and she has started to say "baby" when referring to Callie. But what is really interesting is the fact that she is making connections. Her aunt pointed to an ornament of Santa and asked, "Who is that?" expecting her to say "Santa!" or hold her belly and go "Ho ho ho!!" Instead, she pointed to a different ornament of Santa, one that look very different from the first. She also goes up to her aunt and asks "Baby?!" enthusiastically. It took us a while to figure out that she really means, "Where is the baby?"
Sharing things has always been difficult, but sharing affection is particularly hard. Right now Addy doesn't like having to share grandpa. She tries to tell the baby "no!" and takes her toys away. Hopefully, she'll grow out of it by next year and will start to show Callie how to do things instead.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Surprised by Cute
Addy is always very cute, but sometimes she does something that is surprising AND cute, which usually just leaves me laughing so hard my head hurts.
Today there were several examples of this. My dad used to do this little game with her where he would move his finger around erratically towards her while buzzing like a bee. He would then poke her on the nose and say "beep!" and she would giggle. A few days ago, I decided to try this on her. After I did it, she started to do the same thing... but when she goes "BEEP!" it's super-high-pitched and enthusiastic! And today she did it to me... to mommy... and to both of her godparents! Grandpa will be thrilled.
Another instance of her surprising me happened tonight. She likes to sit on my belly and read, but this time she wanted to bounce like I was a horse. So I started to bounce and sing the William Tell Overture. She giggles, but when I stop, she keeps bouncing and starts to make the same "bum da bums" that I did. I can hear her actually trying to sing, I think for the first time!
I swear she's going to give me diabetes...
Today there were several examples of this. My dad used to do this little game with her where he would move his finger around erratically towards her while buzzing like a bee. He would then poke her on the nose and say "beep!" and she would giggle. A few days ago, I decided to try this on her. After I did it, she started to do the same thing... but when she goes "BEEP!" it's super-high-pitched and enthusiastic! And today she did it to me... to mommy... and to both of her godparents! Grandpa will be thrilled.
Another instance of her surprising me happened tonight. She likes to sit on my belly and read, but this time she wanted to bounce like I was a horse. So I started to bounce and sing the William Tell Overture. She giggles, but when I stop, she keeps bouncing and starts to make the same "bum da bums" that I did. I can hear her actually trying to sing, I think for the first time!
I swear she's going to give me diabetes...
Friday, December 14, 2012
Tragedy
I was going to write a post today about how my daughter may have just said her first sentence ("which, incidentally, is "This is awesome"), but when we got home from the park we learned about the terrible shooting in Newtown, CT. I feel compelled to write about this instead.
Facebook has become a forum for everyone's misguided opinions, and I have no illusions about this. But today it and the people who populate it have made me extremely sad. After hearing about the news of this national tragedy, do people mourn? No. Do they try to post links to help? No. Links to news sites that are covering it? No.
They post political jibes and conjecture. Suddenly everyone is an expert in gun control, mental diseases, and social infrastructure. The first thing I read was an attack on Obama, on all people. This person decided to use this for a political platform. I'm 100% certain, however, that whenever there is a national tragedy like this, the incumbent president is blamed for it by at least a few idiots. Now Facebook has let them and their bigotry intrude into our lives.
Surely the first reaction to an event like this should be shock, followed by an outpouring of prayers, good thoughts, sorrow, aid, and gratitude that the rest of us still have our children. Then, after all the facts have been obtained, and only after all the facts have been obtained, we, as a people, should try to figure out IF this was preventable and how it could be prevented in the future. There should be no political attacks, no uninformed conjecture.
So, allow me to say that I cannot even begin to imagine how the parents of those 20 or so children feel. When my daughter was born, she wasn't breathing and didn't breathe for about 4 minutes. Even though I didn't get a chance to know her, I was filled with a terrible dread that I had lost her. Already I was in love with her. Now that I know her... I cannot fathom a worse fate for a parent. I will be praying for all of their families.
If you would like to help them, search for some sites that provide aid to the parents. My wife found this one, but I haven't had time to verify how valid it is. Nonetheless, it is better to give and held than it is to point fingers.
http://www.indiegogo.com/NewtownShootingFund
May God be with all of the victims and their families.
Facebook has become a forum for everyone's misguided opinions, and I have no illusions about this. But today it and the people who populate it have made me extremely sad. After hearing about the news of this national tragedy, do people mourn? No. Do they try to post links to help? No. Links to news sites that are covering it? No.
They post political jibes and conjecture. Suddenly everyone is an expert in gun control, mental diseases, and social infrastructure. The first thing I read was an attack on Obama, on all people. This person decided to use this for a political platform. I'm 100% certain, however, that whenever there is a national tragedy like this, the incumbent president is blamed for it by at least a few idiots. Now Facebook has let them and their bigotry intrude into our lives.
Surely the first reaction to an event like this should be shock, followed by an outpouring of prayers, good thoughts, sorrow, aid, and gratitude that the rest of us still have our children. Then, after all the facts have been obtained, and only after all the facts have been obtained, we, as a people, should try to figure out IF this was preventable and how it could be prevented in the future. There should be no political attacks, no uninformed conjecture.
So, allow me to say that I cannot even begin to imagine how the parents of those 20 or so children feel. When my daughter was born, she wasn't breathing and didn't breathe for about 4 minutes. Even though I didn't get a chance to know her, I was filled with a terrible dread that I had lost her. Already I was in love with her. Now that I know her... I cannot fathom a worse fate for a parent. I will be praying for all of their families.
If you would like to help them, search for some sites that provide aid to the parents. My wife found this one, but I haven't had time to verify how valid it is. Nonetheless, it is better to give and held than it is to point fingers.
http://www.indiegogo.com/NewtownShootingFund
May God be with all of the victims and their families.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
The Great Pacifier Hunt
Before Addy was born, my sister very thoughtfully sent us some pacifier clips that not only keep her pacifiers attached to her, but also keep them rather visible.
I hope we are not the only parents who are on a constant search for pacifiers.
We currently own 4 that she will actually use, along with 3 clips. But at any one time there may be only 2 that we can find, if we're lucky. And it's random as to when one will surface or disappear. Sometimes they are near her crib, sometimes they are in a couch cushion, and once I found one buried under a cat bed. For some time now, the yellow clip and its pacifier have been missing. I searched the whole house, but I still hadn't been able to find it. That is until today.
We got home from running errands and Addy wanted to play in the leaves in our front yard. She loves to play in them and throw them over her head. This time she wanted to be buried in them.
Imagine my surprise when I dig her up and sitting right there next to her, happy as the day is long, is the yellow paci. It had been buried in the leaves of the front yard for who-knows-how-long.
I guess next time I'm missing a pacifier, I'll have to remember to search outside as well.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
CHANGE!
It has been a while since I updated this blog, or any blog, huh? It is always the same excuse: I'm too tired, I'm too busy, I'm trying to write a novel, I'm a stay-at-home-dad, I'm too absent-minded.
Well, enough of the excuses! It is time for a change! This blog is going to be different! More of a journal. I might even try my hand at *gasp* drawing once in a while. We'll see. Though, for your sake, hope that I don't get that far. I may think very visually, but I can't draw to save my life and don't really have the time to learn. I know how long it takes to get good, two of my siblings are artists (4, if you count siblings-in-law) and they're too busy to draw my ideas.
So, since this will try to be a frequently-updated blog that will be light-hearted.... your first new post!!!
I am convinced that parenthood is about teaching parents to do their repetitive tasks and mind the details more than it is about teaching their kids these things. And not things like feeding and changing... allow me to give you an example.
There is a scene that plays out all the time in my house, and it's so easy to avoid. I start out typing away on the computer, either writing down an inspiration, trying to work on my novel, reading a webcomic (such as http://www.christophercomic.com), checking the weather, or, since we don't have TV, reading the news. I know I should be spending every waking moment watching my child, but sometimes I need to do something to feel like.. ME... and not JUST like dad. Now, don't get me wrong, I love being dad, but I like to think that dad is just one part of me; the other parts need loving, too! And I like to think that I'm teaching Addy how to play on her own as well as with me.
But there's only so much of this that Addy can take at once. I'll be reading about what happened in Angola and how the current political system's abuse of filibustering is undermining the very fabric of BABY!! Addy has had enough alone-play time and crawls into my lap, her cute little butt on my computer. She has a love-hate relationship with our computers. IF we're paying attention to them, then we're not paying attention to her. But if SHE'S paying attention to them, they're "forbidden" and thus fun. Well, in this case, they're the enemy. I can tell this because not a moment after she wiggles her butt against the touchpad, I can smell that she needs to be changed. BADLY.
So, I put my computer down, pick her up, and swing her happily through the air, trying to get her to giggle before the trauma of a diaper change. It is quite a hassle to change her if she's squirming, and worse if she's poopy. I hate having to wash poop out of hair. I finish cleaning her up despite the struggling, but I have to take care of the dirty diaper that is currently sitting folded on the hamper filled with its toxic package. I've already had enough of her screaming and fighting me, so I put her down to run around while I head to the toilet not 10 feet away to dump out-
OH GOD! THE COMPUTER IS OPEN! Why did I leave the computer open!? My novel! Forget this diaper! I just toss the whole thing in the toilet and run as fast as I can to catch up with speedy chubbylegs gonzales just in time to see her pounding away on the computer keyboard.
You'd be surprised at how much damage that can cause. My wife has had her screen turned off after one of Addy's poundings... and we couldn't get it back on. So, I pick her up, check the computer to make sure it is still worki-
OH GOD! THE RADIO! She's run across the room and is now pulling the speaker to my nice radio down and trying to eject the CD so she can... stuff it down her diaper or something. Quickly, I close my computer, hoping I didn't just turn it into a paperweight, and run to stop her from knocking the radio off the shelf. But she sees me this time, and now it's a game! She giggles cutely and runs away, looking over her shoulder and hoping I'll catch her. And, of course, if I don't, she heads straight for the bathroom to go for...
THE DIAPER! OH THE HUMANITY!
One of these days, I will learn to put my computer away BEFORE I change her...
Well, enough of the excuses! It is time for a change! This blog is going to be different! More of a journal. I might even try my hand at *gasp* drawing once in a while. We'll see. Though, for your sake, hope that I don't get that far. I may think very visually, but I can't draw to save my life and don't really have the time to learn. I know how long it takes to get good, two of my siblings are artists (4, if you count siblings-in-law) and they're too busy to draw my ideas.
So, since this will try to be a frequently-updated blog that will be light-hearted.... your first new post!!!
I am convinced that parenthood is about teaching parents to do their repetitive tasks and mind the details more than it is about teaching their kids these things. And not things like feeding and changing... allow me to give you an example.
There is a scene that plays out all the time in my house, and it's so easy to avoid. I start out typing away on the computer, either writing down an inspiration, trying to work on my novel, reading a webcomic (such as http://www.christophercomic.com), checking the weather, or, since we don't have TV, reading the news. I know I should be spending every waking moment watching my child, but sometimes I need to do something to feel like.. ME... and not JUST like dad. Now, don't get me wrong, I love being dad, but I like to think that dad is just one part of me; the other parts need loving, too! And I like to think that I'm teaching Addy how to play on her own as well as with me.
But there's only so much of this that Addy can take at once. I'll be reading about what happened in Angola and how the current political system's abuse of filibustering is undermining the very fabric of BABY!! Addy has had enough alone-play time and crawls into my lap, her cute little butt on my computer. She has a love-hate relationship with our computers. IF we're paying attention to them, then we're not paying attention to her. But if SHE'S paying attention to them, they're "forbidden" and thus fun. Well, in this case, they're the enemy. I can tell this because not a moment after she wiggles her butt against the touchpad, I can smell that she needs to be changed. BADLY.
So, I put my computer down, pick her up, and swing her happily through the air, trying to get her to giggle before the trauma of a diaper change. It is quite a hassle to change her if she's squirming, and worse if she's poopy. I hate having to wash poop out of hair. I finish cleaning her up despite the struggling, but I have to take care of the dirty diaper that is currently sitting folded on the hamper filled with its toxic package. I've already had enough of her screaming and fighting me, so I put her down to run around while I head to the toilet not 10 feet away to dump out-
OH GOD! THE COMPUTER IS OPEN! Why did I leave the computer open!? My novel! Forget this diaper! I just toss the whole thing in the toilet and run as fast as I can to catch up with speedy chubbylegs gonzales just in time to see her pounding away on the computer keyboard.
You'd be surprised at how much damage that can cause. My wife has had her screen turned off after one of Addy's poundings... and we couldn't get it back on. So, I pick her up, check the computer to make sure it is still worki-
OH GOD! THE RADIO! She's run across the room and is now pulling the speaker to my nice radio down and trying to eject the CD so she can... stuff it down her diaper or something. Quickly, I close my computer, hoping I didn't just turn it into a paperweight, and run to stop her from knocking the radio off the shelf. But she sees me this time, and now it's a game! She giggles cutely and runs away, looking over her shoulder and hoping I'll catch her. And, of course, if I don't, she heads straight for the bathroom to go for...
THE DIAPER! OH THE HUMANITY!
One of these days, I will learn to put my computer away BEFORE I change her...
Friday, July 6, 2012
Lost Traditions
One of the things my wife and I have been thinking and talking about is how we are going to be handling family traditions. Of course, almost every family has to go through this; which traditions from which family do we want to keep, and which family will we be visiting for which holiday (or visiting us)? We are truly a neolocal society now, and this threatens a lot of traditions. Although our parents all live in the same area, we live hundreds of miles from them, hundreds of miles from my sisters, 2 hours from my brother, thousands of miles from my extended family, and across the country from my brother-in-law. There is no family near us. We have friends, of course, but we will be moving not too far from now, and they won't be. It hits me a lot harder than I thought it would, probably because at times I a can be extremely extroverted. Back in college, when I lived with my family, I had dozens of friends I could see at any moment, and did see every day. Traditions were easy to make and easy to keep.
Despite being so far from our families, I had always thought, even as a child, that there would be certain traditions, certain experiences that I would share with my own children. One of them... is gone now. And perhaps permanently. I remember going to the Flying W Ranch as a child, and I went almost every time I visited Colorado Springs. It was always fun to see the old west town, to visit the stores, to try the food, to listen to the cowboy music sung by the Flying W Wranglers. I stirred the imagination as a child, and as an adult it makes me nostalgic. Or at least it used to...
According to this article from the NY Times, the Flying W Ranch is gone. I knew it was in danger when my relatives who live near it told us it was surrounded by flames. But now, it is confirmed gone. The wildfires that ravaged the West have burnt everything to cinders, and the band is running out of money. It seems unlikely that it will be rebuilt or that the band will survive. I always imagined going there with Adelaide, seeing the look on her face, buying her a cowboy hat, showing her how to hold the little metal plate so she wouldn't burn herself. I feel like a piece of my childhood was destroyed and a piece of my future robbed from not only me, but my entire family.
Despite being so far from our families, I had always thought, even as a child, that there would be certain traditions, certain experiences that I would share with my own children. One of them... is gone now. And perhaps permanently. I remember going to the Flying W Ranch as a child, and I went almost every time I visited Colorado Springs. It was always fun to see the old west town, to visit the stores, to try the food, to listen to the cowboy music sung by the Flying W Wranglers. I stirred the imagination as a child, and as an adult it makes me nostalgic. Or at least it used to...
According to this article from the NY Times, the Flying W Ranch is gone. I knew it was in danger when my relatives who live near it told us it was surrounded by flames. But now, it is confirmed gone. The wildfires that ravaged the West have burnt everything to cinders, and the band is running out of money. It seems unlikely that it will be rebuilt or that the band will survive. I always imagined going there with Adelaide, seeing the look on her face, buying her a cowboy hat, showing her how to hold the little metal plate so she wouldn't burn herself. I feel like a piece of my childhood was destroyed and a piece of my future robbed from not only me, but my entire family.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Quirks
One of the biggest joys of being a parent, I'm finding, is learning what your child is like. What does she enjoy? What does she hate? What does she imitate? However, I feel that this is also one of things that can easily got lost over the years. I thought it would be good to keep a bit of a chronicle of the things Adelaide has done which are incredibly cute.
For starters, she is definitely musical. She has always bobbed and danced to music, even while we're eating. She loves her little toy piano and ipod, especially now that she has figured out how they work a little better. We have been exposing her to all sorts of music - from artists such as the Beatles, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Mozart, Queen, Yes, Gorillaz, Duran Duran, Faure, Tempest, Dream Theater, Bob Dylan, Geckt, Louis Armstrong, and Beethoven, among others. And she seems to like it all! When we watch recorded concerts on Netflix, she claps whenever the song ends. She'll clap all the time now, and has even learned how to make sound with it!
She also has learned to wave, which she does when she meets people, when people are leaving, or just because! She now says "kitty!" and squeals at the cat. She hasn't learned how to pet without hurting the cats yet, but she tries! She is definitely an animal lover, and squeals at every animal under the sun, even the squirrels, or things on TV.
We went to the Children's Museum a little while ago, where there is a market for kids to pretend they are shopping. She loved to push around the cart and put oranges and syrup into it over and over. I've caught her doing that many times with other things. She is definitely imitating us! Sometimes we can make a game of it, where she copies what we're doing.
I'm very glad she's become more independent than she was. Now she likes to play with other kids, and will even want to be left alone to play with others, while earlier it was a struggle to get her to take more than a few steps from us. Now she likes the bath tub, too! She loves to play with water, and will even go towards the "deep" end to stay in a little bit longer. :D
She's been walking since she was 9 months, and for a long time looked like a drunken sailor after a binge. But she always picks herself up and wants to go on her own. Getting her to hold our hands is a challenge! She loves to play "catch me if you can", which always ends in her being caught, falling over, and giggling! She also giggles when I give her a zerbert/raspberry on her belly, or even when I just act like I'm going to. Same with tickling; I don't even have to touch her to make her giggle. She gets it from me...
At the moment she is sleeping on me, so I will close this post before she wakes up and tries to add typing to her repertoire.
For starters, she is definitely musical. She has always bobbed and danced to music, even while we're eating. She loves her little toy piano and ipod, especially now that she has figured out how they work a little better. We have been exposing her to all sorts of music - from artists such as the Beatles, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Mozart, Queen, Yes, Gorillaz, Duran Duran, Faure, Tempest, Dream Theater, Bob Dylan, Geckt, Louis Armstrong, and Beethoven, among others. And she seems to like it all! When we watch recorded concerts on Netflix, she claps whenever the song ends. She'll clap all the time now, and has even learned how to make sound with it!
She also has learned to wave, which she does when she meets people, when people are leaving, or just because! She now says "kitty!" and squeals at the cat. She hasn't learned how to pet without hurting the cats yet, but she tries! She is definitely an animal lover, and squeals at every animal under the sun, even the squirrels, or things on TV.
We went to the Children's Museum a little while ago, where there is a market for kids to pretend they are shopping. She loved to push around the cart and put oranges and syrup into it over and over. I've caught her doing that many times with other things. She is definitely imitating us! Sometimes we can make a game of it, where she copies what we're doing.
I'm very glad she's become more independent than she was. Now she likes to play with other kids, and will even want to be left alone to play with others, while earlier it was a struggle to get her to take more than a few steps from us. Now she likes the bath tub, too! She loves to play with water, and will even go towards the "deep" end to stay in a little bit longer. :D
She's been walking since she was 9 months, and for a long time looked like a drunken sailor after a binge. But she always picks herself up and wants to go on her own. Getting her to hold our hands is a challenge! She loves to play "catch me if you can", which always ends in her being caught, falling over, and giggling! She also giggles when I give her a zerbert/raspberry on her belly, or even when I just act like I'm going to. Same with tickling; I don't even have to touch her to make her giggle. She gets it from me...
At the moment she is sleeping on me, so I will close this post before she wakes up and tries to add typing to her repertoire.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
1 year...
I know I do not post on here. But if you do run across this post, I would like to commemorate a full year with my daughter! Adelaide is now official a 1-year-old! It has been a long year for me, with a lot of adjusting. But when I look back, it has seemed to go by quickly. To be honest, that worries me. I don't want to miss any of my daughter's life, but at the same time I don't want to miss my own. I have a feeling adjusting is something that is ongoing when it comes to kids.
Today we went to the Greenville Zoo. We have a membership there, so we do go rather often. Today, however, it was very busy. I let Addy walk around on her own most of the time, and I tried to take pictures, though it is certainly difficult to take a picture of a squirmy, inquisitive little girl while trying to prevent her from falling off ledges and tumbling down stairs. She also fed some of the animals (or attempted to at least) and she had her first sandwich, french fries, and snow cone! Pictures have been taken... who knows, perhaps I will post some?
Today we went to the Greenville Zoo. We have a membership there, so we do go rather often. Today, however, it was very busy. I let Addy walk around on her own most of the time, and I tried to take pictures, though it is certainly difficult to take a picture of a squirmy, inquisitive little girl while trying to prevent her from falling off ledges and tumbling down stairs. She also fed some of the animals (or attempted to at least) and she had her first sandwich, french fries, and snow cone! Pictures have been taken... who knows, perhaps I will post some?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)