mrtl

Fancy Feet

Belated, extreme gratitude go from mrtland to Nina and Kranki for sending some precious and endearing foot covers for Jem.

From Nina, moccasins. She made them. With her own hands. Stunning!

She also sent a Dora book with sounds that Bug absolutely adores.

From Kranki, shoes for Jem to grow into. With moose on them. Need I say more?

Thank you, ladies!!

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In other not quite so blogworthy news, I found cannoli today. I was so impressed with the visual that I served myself on the China...

Too bad it was so freakin' bland that I'm not willing to eat the other one if mister mrtl doesn't want it.

All Wound Up

Where's the off switch on this thing?

The Return of Motif Monday

Hey all! Mister mrtl just sent me an email with something in it that screamed, "BUY ME!" And I was like, "Yeah, right. If I had a million dollars." It was one of those emails that made me jump right into Typepad to blog about it. Then I started thinking that this would be a fun one to do as a motif, to see what others would come up with. To give willing participants more time to put posts together, this will be the motif for next Monday, April 3.

next week's topic: With a Million Dollars

If you want to participate, just put the post on your blog and let me know (preferably on my post next week with this subject).

In case you're wondering, this isn't a commitment to resume the weekly madness. It's something I'll do when inspiration strikes.

In All Fairness

And I just realized that I didn't blog about this yesterday, which is probably a Very Good Thing. The closest I came was on Jem's site.

Today was a complete turnaround from the hell of a time I had yesterday with Contrary Bug and Screeching Jem.

::tangent::
After making the spelling discovery (see end of post) today and confirming with mister mrtl that it was indeed not his doing, I'm now thinking that Bug and I may not have been opposing too much yesterday afterall. I'm just saying.
::end tangent::

Today Bug was sweet and cooperative, going so far as to do such things as noticing my water across the room as I was anchored to the couch nursing and bringing it to me, and taking charge of helping get Jem's "pinky" back in her mouth when she spit it out while I was making lunch. And Jem, she slept. Eight hours last night and nice chunks of time today. As a matter of fact, she has slept soundly tonight, allowing mister mrtl and I to watch "The Sopranos" and "My Name is Earl" without regular pauses to calm her (or giving up altogether and being forced from the room). I've done some blogging tonight, taken some pictures and finally gotten into the camera to post some. Still she sleeps...

... I hope this isn't a part of her eight hours tonight. If that's the case, I've lost 2 1/2 already.

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So I lied. I thought the pictures were fuzzy, but this one was ok. The hair's a little flat, but you get the point. Got my brows waxed, too. They offset the bags nicely, eh?

Coming Up for Air

This thing called life, it's pulling me under. Reminds me of a poem I once wrote...

I flail in the raging waters,
My sea of "things to do."
My arms grow weak and weary,
The beach still not in view.
I try to keep my head up,
Hoping my plight to end,
But it's no use, so before I sink,

                   Please write,
                   Your drowning friend

May 9, 1993

I'm not actually drowning here, though. Just trying to keep up with work, now daily laundry (weekly before Jem), and general Bugginess.

Looking forward here to a weekend with my girls. Mister mrtl has taught me the magic of calming Jem. He is the Doug Henning of baby calming, my man. This will make the weekend so much more enjoyable, as Bug and I will be doing some serious playing and cooking no fewer than two pies (one turkey pot pie and one pumpkin pie). We may even make some cookies, just for fun. I also have to blog about our cooking fun from last weekend, as well as give a huge shout-out of a thanks to Kranki and Nanina for some gifties received. Pictures must be included, so no more about that right now. Maybe sometime I'll get around to pulling the pictures off the camera, which reminds me that -- guess what! -- there are BALD EAGLES in Eagle River. Can you imagine? We may take a ride down to the firehouse over the weekend to see if there are any out and get some pictures of them; mister mrtl and I saw three today, but Snappy was at home.

Who knows when I'll get around to catching up with all my blog reading. Yet another casualty in the exponential tasking that comes with having multiple children (yes, it's confusing math). I did happen to notice Jana's happy news and that Susie's still rockin'. ~Kabe gave me a head's up on Dooce's comments being open (no time for that, for shame). Other than that, I don't have any of the latest news. Please indulge me here; what's going on in blogland?

What's Gross?

The cat licking the carpet. On a spot where some baby puke landed. Days ago. (Don't you judge me. I didn't know it was there.)

Glutton for Chocolate, Not Punishment

It's been a rough several days now in mrtland, what with Bug sick and Jem puking on me constantly and refusing to sleep. Even still, I decided that today I was going to be upbeat about it, and even went so far as to want to write Kristine to suggest "simple pleasures" for Stuff Portrait Friday. After all, the happiest of sights waited to greet me downstairs: an empty sink (where all the dishes were actually done, not in the plastic bin on the counter to stay out of the way).

Even when Bug awoke way too early and grumpy at that, crying about her nose running, I tried to think positively. There was no way I'd be taking her to school acting as she was, insisting I be her personal nose wiper and close to tears whenever she felt the slightest trickle of booger, even if her temperature was low enough. I parked her on the couch with some Dora, sent yet another note to the office that I'd get as much done today as I could, and cuddled. Bug became a broken record of "I need another tissue." and "Help me [wipe my nose]."

Of course, Bug was fine and complained not a bit when I left her to deal with Jem, who woke up not long after Bug. It was still early, so I thought I could nurse her and put her right back in her crib. Or not. Several tries ensued before I gave up and carried her back to the playroom with me. She wouldn't let me put her down after that without starting up again.

::tangent for anyone pregnant or contemplating ever having children::
I held off on reading The Happiest Baby on the Block and am now kicking myself. I am so positive that all of life's biggest questions -- at least when it comes to calming a baby who insists on screaming like a banshee, conveniently right around the time the husband gets home from work -- are answered in this book. Please don't make this same mistake. READ IT BEFORE THE BABY COMES!
::end tangent for anyone pregnant or contemplating ever having children::

After what seemed like hours of playing "Guess what's wrong with the baby," I thought I was completely going to lose my mind. As it started to get close to breakfast time, Bug made it worse by getting all happy -- HOW DARE SHE!? -- bouncing around, playing and squealing. It was then that I questioned my decision to keep her home. She was no longer acting sick. When I told her I thought she felt well enough to go to school, she danced and hoorayed. The plan was set into action to get her dressed and ready for school, eat some breakfast here, then head in. Bug was perfectly cooperative with the process, and we were soon heading out the door.

I'm losing my patience with this post, so I'm going all Reader's Digest on the rest. I have a feeling it's still going to be way too long.

• Where's my fucking purse already? I can't get on base without ID. Damnit!
• Suddenly I start feeling really sick. Going-to-puke sick.
• Purse found.
• Jem crying. Driving calms her, and she falls asleep.
• There's a moose! Woo! Mental note to add to my list of simple pleasures.
• Notice driving to school that traffic lights are out. This should have been foreshadowing for me, but I just saw a moose and was distracted.
• Notice as we pull into school's parking lot that the gas gauge is BELOW EMPTY. WTF, mister mrtl? Mental note to strangle him... then again, he's the only one who can get Jem to sleep at night. Curses!
• Get into school. The lights are out. This kind of bullshit will close the school. The ladies at the front desk tell me that it's already been over an hour; they're waiting for a call. Fuckity fuckity fuck.
• We go to the gym for Bug to get in some play with her friends. Commence onslaught of boogery, germy kids wanting to see the baby. They won't listen to me tell them to leave the baby alone and not touch. Fuckers.
• Jem wakes up and starts crying. Still no lights on at school, and it's not like we live so close that coming back would be convenient. I take Bug home.
• We have to get gas. Stuck behind asshole going 20 in a 35. Jem won't stop crying driving so slowly.
• Gas pay at the pump down. I hate going in.
• Home. Uneventful though lunch. We head up for nap. Bug decides "I want to use the potty." I tell her she could, but wanted to take her diaper off beforehand. She becomes a broken record of, "But I want to use the potty." I repeat that I told her she could, we're just taking off her diaper on the changing table. After a few repetitions, my tone gets impatient. She sulks. Tells me she's sad. She doesn't like me talking to her like that. I feel bad now. Contemplate opening the Thin Mints that I've told mister mrtl I wasn't going to touch and eating the whole box.
• Bug poops in the potty. POOPS! In the POTTY!
• Now she's in her big girl bed, reading a book. Jem slept for all of twenty minutes. I wanted to write this and take a nap. Guess not.

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Update: So it wasn't a poopy, which I know I heard and thought was hidden under the tp in the toilet from an earlier attempt and practice wipe. If I had known, I would have encouraged her to keep going; we did have something to wipe off at least.

OMYGAH! A Non-Baby Post

Hahahaha! Fooled you! I have nothing to say that wouldn't include the kiddo. Just letting you know I'm still here.

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Actually, I do have something worthy of mention: a phone call I received yesterday. It was a woman in the moms' group I belong to, calling to let me know she was stalking me. She had come across mrtland in the past, and again more recently, only to realize that she knew me (ha! I didn't ask her, but figured it must've been my hat post that tipped her off). Also, in light of my post about Jem taking a bottle successfully, she wanted to remind me that Moms' Night Out was that night. Unfortunately, mister mrtl has been sick and night is Jem's worst time of day for screaming and puking, so I took a pass.

I'm almost surprised by my reaction to learning about this discovery. You'd think I'd be freaked out by it (I thought I'd be freaked out about it), but it didn't bother me. Funny how that works. I've gotten so comfortable with sharing the TMI that it doesn't phase me. Thinking about it, it shouldn't. I get so hyped up about meeting fellow bloggers, those who have possibly read all about me before meeting me, so why would it be a bad thing for someone who I barely know to have access to this information? I don't think I'll be including my blog address in my email siggy anytime soon, though.

R, if you're still visiting, thank you for being forthcoming.

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Oh, something else... Side note to Sheryl: Sorry, but the window of opportunity to get a picture of my new do to post was too small. We took Bug out to dinner last night, and then Jem managed to puke on me not too long after Bug went to bed, requiring a shower. Who knows when I'll have time to do something with it on my own. Maybe someday... ::she thinks wistfully:: Still, it was great to get out to get it done. Luckily for mister mrtl, the child slept the entire time I was gone, awakening and screaming a minute before I got home.

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Damn! How could I forget? Last night I had One Great Margarita, which I believe was my first margarita in Alaska. It was so great my teeth were getting numb before the level had gone down half an inch. Hee! I guess I can no longer call myself a two-drink drunk. What's cheaper than a cheap date? hmmm...

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I'm trying to get over feeling badly about my lack of time and that commenting and responding to comments have taken a back seat to Mommying. While I'm several days/weeks behind in reading, I'm sure I'll catch up at some point. I have a gazillion audio posts to catch up on (can you blame me, Bucky? I won't listen to them while Bug is present, and am afraid I'll wake the baby if she's in the room, which she often is).

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Hot damn! (Because I can't say "Cold damn!") It's supposed to snow here for the next few days. WTF? I thought we'd seen the end of it, but I guess not. This woman at WalMart the other day asked me if I was ready for breakup. I had to ask her what she meant by that (because really, isn't breaking up not a cheerful thing?). It's what they call it when things start to melt in Alaska, since during the winter it's cold enough to keep the white stuff (since turned to fairly solid stuff) present. Silly Alaskans. Like it matters. Kids are still wearing flipflops.

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Apologies to anyone who read the first line and believed this would be a quickie.

Pumped

It's a monumental moment here in mrtland. Jem just handled her first bottle like a pro. You know what this means? It means the possibility of leaving the house BY MYSELF. It means getting that way overdue haircut. It means Bug and mister mrtl can get in on the feeding action (and oh my how excited Bug's going to be about that!). It means not having to wear a nursing top everywhere I go and flash my boob at strangers.

::tangent::
My collection of nursing tops is limited as it is, so it doesn't help that Jem regularly pukes on them. More than once now she has struck right before we've left the house, requiring a wardrobe change using the small supply.

As for the public nursing business, I don't think I'll ever be totally comfortable with it.
::end tangent::

Best of all, it's a glimpse of freedom that refreshes the spirit.

The Sad, Sad State of Affairs

I demand ME time, so I stayed up long after Jem has stopped screaming and passed out from the exhaustion that had her too worked up to just.sleep.peacefully. It doesn't matter that I'm completely exhausted and need to get some sleep. ME time is more important. I deserve a moment to myself, dammit! I've indulged in a half glass of cabernet, some ice cream, and some wheat and cheddar crackers (don't start patting me on the back for avoiding the Girl Scout cookies, though, because those babies got their due earlier... the Dosidos and Thin Mints weren't going to stay unopened forever, you know!).

::tangent::
Vin Diesel waves hi like an overexcited three-year-old, arm extended with hand perpendicular and fingers splayed, palm swung back and forth, complete with cheesey, big fake smile. (What? He's on Letterman.)
::end tangent::

::another tangent::
For the record, our Samoas are labeled as such. I absolutely refuse to indulge the stupidity of renaming them "Caramel Delights." Fuck that. I do loves me some caramel, but it's not the caramel that makes them so delightful. It's the coconut.
::end another tangent::

What to do? I have nothing to do but work, watch stupid television and click around on the computer. I'm behind on reading blogs but lack the ability to focus on that right now.

As I click around, I discover something new about mrtland: the kinja card. Check it out! I have TWO stars! They make me feel so special even if I'm not in the top 100,000. Even better, check out the "analyze readability" link. HA! I've attributed my penchant for using easy language to my years of teaching middle school, constantly paraphrasing and dumbing down my language so the kids would understand me. All that practice paid off, folks! Nearly six years later and apparently those atrophied brain cells aren't coming back. Actually, I've gone further downhill (unless my students were this low... something to consider). According to Juicy, I write on the same level as TV guides, the Bible and Mark Twain (not such bad company, right?). Also, the rough measure of how many years of schooling it would take someone to understand the content of this blog is 3.74. Does that include kindergarten?

I'd like to think that the ease of reading here is an asset. Blogs that are too heady and complicated tend to exhaust me; there are few that I visit regularly. This is a hobby, and it shouldn't be painful.

Would someone please explain that last sentence to my stubborn side, which would sooner tape my eyelids open to catch some ME time than allow my fried brain to get some precious rest?