Friday, September 28, 2007

Proof that I do, indeed, rule

I just had my annual review with my boss. It was good news all around. I've been promoted from Publishing Proofreader to Senior Publishing Proofreader, which means a fairly significant raise (more than a dollar more per hour) as well as an updated job description and added responsibilities. My boss had many lovely things to say about me--and since this is my blog, it is perfectly acceptable for me to brag on myself, via this excerpt from her review...

Sara has had another outstanding year as a [CompanyName] proofreader. . . . On many occasions this year, Sara has acted as the go-to proofreader for large products or products on aggressive schedules, always proofreading accurately while meeting whatever due dates are set. . . . Regardless of the scale of the product being proofread or the deadline, I can always count on Sara to give the job the attention it needs. . . . In recognition of her outstanding work and the attainment of expertise in our house style and workflows, I am proud to promote Sara to the position of Senior Publishing Proofreader.

Is it at all ironic that the first thing I'm doing after listening to her tell me what a fabulous worker I am is hopping online and writing in my blog?

That's all for now--I'm off to splurge on a candy bar from the vending machine, to celebrate my awesomeness.

(Perhaps I should have entitled my self-evaluation "Why I Rule" after all.)

OK, OK, I'm going now. Don't worry--I'll get over this soon enough. Just let me bask in my own glory for a few more minutes.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Apple core, Baltimore

I have heard from a few reliable sources that Target has a good selection of Office-themed merchandise. Seeing as I have to go to Target tonight anyway, I may just have to hunt down some of that stuff. A co-worker brought in some notepads the other day that a friend had given her--she said there were too many for her to use, so she shared them with us. I think there are 5 or 6 of us in this department who all love The Office. I snagged a notepad with a picture of Michael on it that says, "I'm an early bird and a night owl. So I'm wise and I have worms." Hee hee.

I was up late last night working, and had the Tonight Show on in the background. And who should be a guest but none other than Steve Carell. And to make it even better, they showed a clip from tonight's premiere. Of course, it didn't give away anything major, but it was still fun to watch. So staying up late has its perks.

If you think you're sick of hearing me go on and on and on about The Office now, just wait until tomorrow...

Tony (with the help of Wayne) rearranged our bedroom last night. It looks really good, and most everything fits into place the way it did before. I wish we had somewhere else to put Sasha's dog bed, though--it's just so in the way. We never even got Ivan a dog bed because we literally have nowhere to put it. I'm tempted to just get rid of Sasha's bed--the dogs seem to sleep mostly on the couch downstairs, and I know they lounge on our bed when we're not home.

The rearrangement of our room forced me to do a little straightening up, which was good. I organized my shoes and purses (I have way too many of both items) and moved a couple small things around. All in all, I like it. It will take a little getting used to, but it's a nice change of pace.

The radio is my car is on the fritz again, and I'm a little worried. It likes to just stop working on me for no reason at all--it doesn't shut off in the middle of a trip or anything, it just refuses to turn on when I turn the car on. But it usually resolves itself within 24 hours--if it's out in the morning, it's fixed when I leave work, for example. Yesterday, it didn't work in the morning, but then it also didn't work in the afternoon, and it was still out this morning. I fear this may be the beginning of the end for my precious Sentra--first this, then more major symptoms, until finally all my car's vital organs will shut down and it will go gently into that good night. My car passed the 200,000 mile mark last week, and is already over 200,300 miles (thanks to my long commute). My poor, faithful little car.

Anyway, my point was... my drive to/from work is SO boring now. I've been reduced to singing to myself, just to keep myself awake and somewhat entertained. Hey, people on the outside don't have to know my radio is broken...

Oh and the scathingly brilliant date night idea I mentioned yesterday? Yeh, nevermind, it's not going to happen. I swear, I've got the mentality of a 5-year-old when it comes to latching onto a harebrained idea and convincing myself that it actually could work. Maybe someday I'll grow up.

Suddenly the jingle, "I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid..." is running through my head. Isn't it odd the weird little commercials and jingles you can remember from your childhood? When I was younger, my mom used to tape episodes of The Brady Bunch off the TV, and I can still close my eyes and see/hear some of the commercials that used to play--for Army Ants, Nosy Bears, Hooks, Push Pops, etc. Why, I wonder, did my brain feel that it was important to retain this information?

I also recently found out (thanks to my brilliant almost-a-doctor brother) that a classic Disney cartoon scene that I used to think was total nonsense actually makes perfect sense. It was an episode featuring Donald Duck, who (inexplicably) owned an orchard and was being tormented by Chip and Dale. Throughout the episode, when they finished an apple, they would hold it up and say to him, "Apple core."

To which he would reply some word I never, throughout all my childhood, understood.

Then they would ask, "Who's your friend?"

And when he replied, "Me" he would get pelted in the face with the apple core.

I thought it was just some nonsense thing that Disney made up, but it turns out it was based on a children's game. My brother sent me this Wikipedia article...

"Apple core" is a children's game and prank that was popular among schoolchildren in the United States in the middle of the 20th century.

The game proceeds as follows: a child finishes eating an apple, then displays the core for the other children to see. The child then says, "Apple core!"

One of the other children replies, "Baltimore."

The first child then responds, "Who's your friend?"

And the second child responds with the name of another child in the group.

Upon hearing the name of the "friend," the first child then throws the apple core into the face of the named child as he yells, "Not no more!"

The origin of the game, like many schoolyard games, is obscure.


Now I can sleep well at night, finally knowing that the mystery word was "Baltimore." And the miracle of YouTube allows me to bring this classic cartoon to all of you. Wait until about 3 minutes in, and you'll see the game. It also occurs a couple more times.



And now I'm all nostalgic and stuff, because, y'all, I was raised on Disney cartoons. (I once simultaneously scared and impressed a co-worker at the Disney Store with my ability to sing the entire Donald Duck theme song.) And Ari will be too, if I have any say in the matter.

TellTaleHeart

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

If you're a horse

About Ari

Last night, we watched Signing Time Volume 1. And by "we" I mean "me." I watched, while Ari did laps around the room. She paid attention at first, because the intro features some peppy music, but then she was off. I made a point of getting her attention when they did "more" (since she knows that one--I thought she might be excited to see something familiar) and "dog" (for obvious reasons). Overall, she wasn't too impressed. But it was educational for me, so it wasn't a total waste of time.

This morning, we took Ari to the doctor to get her stitch removed. They weighed her (23 pounds, 1 ounce) and then took her temperature. They took it in her armpit, which meant Tony had to hold her arm down in order to keep the thermometer in place. Ari didn't like that one bit, and she struggled and whined the whole time. Which was her warm-up for the actual stitch removal. Tony held her arms while I held her head as still as I could. It took the doctor a moment to get a hold of the stitch, but once she did, it was gone in a flash. A dab of antibiotic ointment and a bandage, and the ordeal was over. The way Ari carried on, you would have thought we were torturing her. And when Tony and I got her dressed afterwards (we had to strip her down to be weighed), she protested much more than usual--poor thing probably thought we were going to attack her head again. But the wound looks good--it's scabbed over and seems to be healing nicely.

I really feel sad about this whole situation. Of course I feel guilty--any parent feels guilty when their kids gets hurt. But mostly I feel sad. Since she was born, I have marveled at her perfect skin--so soft, so unmarred by injury. I know that, due to me, she is doomed to have horrific acne as a teen, but I had hoped that until then, she would be able to enjoy flawless skin. I don't think it would have bothered me as much if she had gotten a cut on her arm and leg. But the fact that it's on her face--in such an obvious place--is what makes me sad. Baby girl, I'm sorry you had to give up your perfect face so soon. But if you ever ask me why you have a scar, I will look you right in the eye and say, "Well, it's because you wouldn't wear a hat to protect your skin from the sun." Because that's the kind of good parent I am.

Not About Ari

I have to turn in my self-evaluation to my boss today. I hate doing these, but then again, who really likes stuff like this? A resume is bad enough, but at least that's mostly bullet-like points and short, incomplete sentences. This self-evaluation is like an essay on Why I Rule. And the fact that my job title is "proofreader" makes me even more nervous about it--I mean, how awful and incompetent would it look for me to have a typo in there? But on the plus side, this means my yearly review is coming up, which should mean a raise.

I made cookies last night and brought them in to work today. Which is merely a coincidence, not an attempt to butter up my boss before my yearly review.

My tummy has been feeling especially flabby the past few days. But the number on the scale remains the same. Which leads me to believe that the sit-ups I've been neglecting to do because I was sure they were doing nothing for my abs were perhaps doing more than I thought they were. Which means I'll have to start doing them again. Darn it.

This has been the big season premiere week for many TV shows, including some of my faves. I watched "Heroes" on Monday night and got all giddy and squealy when it started, and shouted, "No!" at the TV when it ended (in my opinion) too soon. "The Office" premieres tomorrow night, and I am clearing my schedule to watch it "live"--but I will still DVR it and possibly watch it a second time. Because I'm a geek like that.

Last night, I was in the shower, and Tony poked his head in to ask me if I meant for the DVR to be taping reruns of "The Office." I told him yes because there are a few episodes I've never seen. I didn't tell him it was also because I will re-watch the ones I've already seen. Of course, he already knows what a geek I am, so I might as well have said it.

I am cooking up a crafty plan for our next date night, but I'm not sure if it will all work out. But that means I will obsess about it for several days because that's what I do when I hatch a plan--I dwell on it, obsess over it, and lose sleep until it either all falls into place, or all falls through. Really, though, it is one of the most scathingly brilliant ideas I've ever had.

Kudos to anyone who can tell me where the phrase "I've just had the most scathingly brilliant idea" comes from. (I think my sister is possibly the only person who stands a chance here.)

Hey, no Googling allowed. Cheaters.

Jack Handey QOTD:

If you're a horse, and someone gets on you, and falls off, and then gets right back on you, I think you should buck him off right away.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Instead of throwing a hand grenade

(Yeh, this is going to be a long entry, but there are lots of pictures, so that makes it OK, right? Right.)

I need a weekend from my weekend--it was non-stop. I was joking with Tony about how it seems like different events and things-to-do all pile on at once, and next weekend, we'll probably be bored out of our minds with nothing to do.

Friday night was a ladies' fellowship at church. I rushed home from work, spent about 15 minutes with Ari (most of that time was spent coaxing her to eat), and then rushed out the door, arriving late. I had planned to make some homemade brownies--the turtle kind--but with the long ER visit on Thursday night, it didn't happen, and I brought store-bought cookies instead. I was a bit bummed, because I'd really been looking forward to those brownies. I had a nice time at the fellowship, and when I got home, the guys were all still there, playing a board game.

Saturday morning we didn't get to sleep in at all, because we had another church thing to do first thing in the morning. After that, we hurried to The Big E to meet Dave and Jess. Well, "hurried" doesn't seem to be the right word, since we were stuck in traffic for over an hour--and that stretch of road should have taken us all of 10 minutes to drive, under normal circumstances. But once we were there, we got some food and got a chance to catch our breath.

(By the way, if you're wondering what in the world a Big E is, it's short for the Eastern States Exposition, a huge fair that comes around every year for a couple weeks--it's the biggest fair in the Northeast. It's your classic kind of fair--there are competitions with all kinds of livestock and produce, things like that. Plus there is a ton of other stuff--hundreds of vendors selling everything you can imagine, all sorts of greasy and unhealthy food, a different house for each New England state that shows off what that state is known for, a circus, all sorts of crazy exhibits, a parade, and other various forms of entertainment [even some big acts, like certain country singers, that you can pay extra for]. We usually end up going once or twice with different groups of people.)

We offered Ari some bites of our food, but she refused, and munched on a graham cracker. This is how she gets comfortable in her stroller.



The highlight of Ari's day was visiting the petting zoo. She absolutely loved the animals, but the donkeys were her favorite, since she could get close to them and they didn't move much (the goats wanted nothing to do with her once they realized she didn't have any food). Here she is meeting the donkey for the first time.



She wasted no time in getting better acquainted.



She decided she wanted to jump right in and see the donkey a little closer.



So Tony distracted her by helping her feed him instead.



I'm telling you, this child is fearless. I have a feeling that stitch in her forehead will be the first of many, as my little daredevil explores the world.

Dave and Jess left shortly after the petting zoo, and we had to cut our day short too in order to attend yet another church event in the evening--a bonfire. It was a nice night for it--chilly, but not too bad. Ari was pretty good, too, considering what a long day it had been. She spent most of the time walking walking walking, and I am beginning to understand just how tiring it is to chase after a toddler. The thing is, when she starts to walk away, half the time she'll turn around and come back to you with no prompting, and the other half, she'll just keep going. And since you never know what she's going to do, you've got to stay no more than a few steps behind her.

Sunday was church as usual, and then Greg and Wayne took Pete out for lunch and then back to our apartment to hang out, while we went to meet Matt, Kristin and Nicholas at The Big E. They had already been there for a couple hours when we got there, so we took some time to relax and let the kids out of the strollers. Nick entertained himself by trying to eat the grass, and when he wasn't allowed to do that, he decided to just rip it up and throw it instead.



He was content to sit pretty still, while Ari was on the move from the moment her feet touched the ground. But once he noticed her dashing all over the place, he had to follow her.



She has absolutely no qualms about just taking off, whether or not she knows if one of us is nearby. I am dreading the next couple of years--I just know she is going to be one of those kids who dashes off unexpectedly in the split second I turn my eyes away. She also has her daddy's personality--she makes friends wherever she goes. So even when she walks away from us, and turns around to find herself staring into the eyes of a stranger, instead of freaking out, she smiles slyly and puts on her most charming act. She is going to be a handful, this one.

We attempted to get the kids to pose for a couple pictures, and, not surprisingly, we were barely successful. At first, Tony tried hold them. Nick immediately tried to get fresh with Ari.



Then we got them both to look up and look somewhat pleasant. (And you can probably guess that they were gone a split second after this picture was taken.)



So we decided to try having them sit by themselves. And Nick decided to try eating Ari's arm...



And this was the final result of that pose. Kristin was putting Nick's arm around Ari, but I didn't even wait for her to get out of the way before snapping the picture. I've learned that there's no point waiting for the perfect shot--just snap a bunch of candid shots and hope that one or 2 come out decent.



Another time when we stopped pressing on through the throngs of people to take a little breather, Ari and Nick put on a little show for us. She spied his pacifier and decided that she needed to have it. He was a little put off by this.



But she ignored him, and persisted until she had it in her hands. Nick made a polite attempt to get it back.



We stuck her pacifier in her mouth, just to keep her from putting his in her mouth. Nick was looking a little worried at this point.



He finally decided that sharing time was over, and reclaimed his precious binky.



Ari, not at all fazed by that, immediately tried to get it back. But Nick held his ground this time--no more Mr. Nice Guy.



We supplied Cheerios as a distraction, and Ari was kind enough to share them with Nick. Yes, she actually fed him.



Nick passed out in his stroller, and Matt and Kristin left shortly after that. Tony and I stayed for a while, and took Ari to the circus. It started at 7, and her usual bedtime is between 7:30 and 8, so we weren't sure how she'd be. She had her moments where she whined or squirmed to be let down, but overall, she did really well sitting still in a show that lasted for an hour. She really loved the act with all the dogs doing tricks--no surprise there. When we got outside, it was chilly, so we put her jacket on her, laid her in the stroller, and tucked a blanket around her. In a matter of minutes, she was asleep. We walked around for a little while more, then headed home.

We were pretty good with not spending a whole lot of money--well, besides food. There are so any vendors there that it can get really tempting to buy stuff. We got a couple of "flameless candles"--basically, they're LED lights that are shaped like a pillar candle (they even have a wax coating) and flicker like a candle. They change colors too. We thought they would be perfect as nightlights in Ari's room. There are no available, visible outlets in her room, so plugging something in isn't really an option. We've been using a small lamp with a low-wattage bulb, but it was still too bright. These candles work perfectly, though--and the flickering light is so soothing. I want to steal one for our room.

So that was my weekend. Oh, wait, did I mention I got a last-minute freelance project on Friday? Well, I did. It only took me about 2 hours total, but that time was all chopped up into little bits, as I brought the laptop with me to church on Sunday and worked on it before and after church, as well as in the car. I was also supposed to get my self-evaluation for work done, too, but my boss was gracious enough to let me put it off another day (especially since she hasn't finished her evaluation of me yet). So my busy-ness isn't over yet. But the season premiere of Heroes is on tonight, and I am not missing out on that, even if I have to watch it on the DVR after it's over (which would be the smart choice, since I can then fast-forward commercials and it won't take as much time to watch). I can sleep when I'm dead, right?

Jack Handey QOTD:

If you're in a war, instead of throwing a hand grenade at the enemy, throw one of those small pumpkins. Maybe it'll make everyone think how stupid war is, and while they are thinking, you can throw a real grenade at them.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Things I learned from a night in the ER *EDIT*

*****EDITED TO ADD pictures! And a video! Lucky you!*****

Here are the pictures of the famous injury. I promise--they're not gruesome. In fact, it probably looks much less serious that you would have thought, reading my description in the previous entry. Like I said, it was a small wound, but deep enough for a solitary stitch.



Don't mind the messy mouth--she was eating dinner when I snapped these shots.



And, totally unrelated to the whole ER visit... here's a video of Ari doing the sign for "more." If you don't know what it's supposed to look like, here's a picture....



So she's still a little clumsy at it, but hey, as an added bonus, now you get to see her wound in living color. Also, I don't know why she has her hands on her ears at the beginning--she just does that randomly. I try not to take it personally.



*****END EDIT*****

(This will make a lot more sense if you read the previous post first.)

The ER is nowhere near as exciting and fast-paced as it looks on TV.

Never underestimate how quickly your child will get bored of every toy in the room and want nothing else but to walk outside.

Never underestimate how well a cell phone can entertain a bored toddler.

Folding automatic doors can, if your child is standing in just the wrong place, hit your child in the head.

Which is not good when your child already has a head injury.

Doctors are looking younger and younger. (Or is it me that's getting older? Nah, can't be that...)

Even if you don't want to talk to anyone in the waiting room, you will be forced to, because your toddler will inevitably walk over and make herself quite at home with a stranger or two.

Expect that your partner will find the oddest, most mundane thing to fret over. (In Tony's case, it was worrying that the rails on the side of the bed would suddenly collapse under the power of a 1-year-old's might.)

The Disney Channel can--and will--repeat the exact same episode of the exact same show in the same night--within hours of each other.

Apparently, they made a 4th Beethoven movie. (The dog, not the composer. If you're confused--lucky you.)

Circumstances aside, kids look really funny with giant bandages on their heads.

At least one or two parents will spend their entire waiting time griping about the wait, about the incompetent hospital staff, about how they're going to sue the hospital if their child suddenly keels over in the waiting room, etc.

This can be quite entertaining. Especially when the only entertainment in sight is a measly pile of children's books and a TV with the volume turned too low to hear.

Apparently, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson guest-starred on an episode of Hannah Montana. Which included him dressing like a woman too. I will never look at him the same again.

When you haven't eaten in 10 hours, Goldfish can be the most delicious food in the world.

Waiting in the ER shows you what kind of person your child becomes when they stay up way past bedtime.

Sometimes something as simple as a fellow parent, stopping you on your way out the door to ask if your child is OK, can make your whole day.

My kid truly is the cutest kid in the world. Or at least, the cutest kid in the children's ER on Thursday, September 20 from 7 PM to 1 AM. I'll take that.

Oh, what a night

Parenting To-Do List:

Make at least one visit to the emergency room while child is still a toddler

Check.

OK, calm down--she is totally fine, and the trip may not have been fully necessary, but nevertheless, it sure makes for great blog material. So grab a snack and get comfortable.

Last night I got home from work, and started working on dinner. Tony was doing various things, and Pete was watching TV. Suddenly, I heard a loud "thunk" which I knew was the sound of Ari falling, hard. I heard Pete say, "Oh, Ari, what happened?" and then Tony's urgent voice said, "Honey, she's bleeding." I grabbed the whole roll of papertowels and rushed to the living room.

Tony was already using the handtowel out of the bathroom to stop the bleeding, while she writhed and cried and protested. There were spots of blood on the carpet, and her arms and shirt seemed covered in blood. I wiped off her arms while Tony continued putting pressure on the wound. As we waited, we tried to figure out what had happened. She had obviously hit her head on the coffee table--and not just on the coffee table, but on the very sharp corner. She was just walking around--not climbing on the couch or anything like that. We're thinking she was standing on her tiptoes (a random thing she likes to do now, and she tends to lean forward as she does it) and lost her balance.

I offered her her pacifier to help her settle down, and noticed that it was getting blood in it. I pulled it out, and saw that her mouth was bleeding just a little. We immediately thought she had the same injury that her friend Nicholas got the other day--from what we could tell, it seemed like she had some skin caught between her front teeth. We tried to get a good look, but she was having none of that, and we didn't want to tug too hard at her lip and cause it to bleed as profusely as Nick's injury had.

After we got the bleeding from her head to subside, we had the great debate--ER or not? We first called our doctor's office--we got a hold of the on-call nurse, explained the situation, and she paged the doctor on call, Dr. M. She's not our normal doctor, and she speaks with a very strong accent, so Tony had a hard time understanding her when she called back. Dr. M told us she would call the ER for us and let them know we were coming. (I'm still not sure what the point of this was, since the ER is first-come, first-serve--it's not like it was going to get us in any faster. But it was a nice gesture, I suppose.)

Neither one of us were panicking, and neither injury seemed too severe, but we wanted to be sure. We couldn't get a look inside her mouth, and the wound on her head looked a little deep. It was a small spot, but it looked almost like someone had jabbed a pencil into her forehead--we wondered if it might need a stitch or 2. So we packed up our stuff, left Pete at home, and headed to the ER.

We got there around 7, and the longer we waited, the more we second-guessed ourselves. Her mouth now looked just swollen--we were starting to think that maybe she hadn't been bleeding from there at all. We had put a band-aid on her forehead before we left the house (an Ariel one, if you must know), and that seemed to be containing the bleeding. Plus, Ari was acting like herself--walking all over the place, making friends with some of the other little kids, playing with the toys (it was a children's hospital, so luckily, the waiting room was full of toys). After a few hours, feeling like maybe we had overreacted, we decided to leave--Tony went up to the nurses' station to ask them to remove our name from the list. We had just gotten out the door when someone from the hospital followed us out and told us our name was next on the list. We looked at each other and shrugged--we'd already waited so long, what was a few more minutes?

About 15 minutes later we got called back, and a nurse took a preliminary look at Ari. She put some antibiotic/numbing ointment on Ari's head and covered it with the World's Biggest Bandage (a giant piece of gauze secured with medical tape). She got a quick peek at Ari's mouth, but, like us, couldn't get a good look. She did say there was definitely a cut in there, so we were right that her mouth had been bleeding. After this quick check, we were sent back out to the waiting room.

I'm not sure what time it was by now, but it was most definitely well past Ari's bedtime. Of course, in all this mess, she had completely missed supper. I finally gave in and pulled a container of applesauce out of the diaper bag to feed her. No sooner had I done this, then our name was called. But it wasn't to see the doctor--it was just to fill out some forms to help move things along. The lady who called us back immediately noticed I was feeding Ari, and told me I couldn't do that--if she needed to be sedated, she would have to have an empty stomach, blah blah blah. I resisted the urge to argue. She was nice about it, though--doing the whole sympathetic "I know it's hard, I know she's hungry" bit. She ended up going and checking with someone, and getting permission for us to feed her (I guess they decided that the chances of Ari needing to be sedated were pretty slim). And after Ari scarfed down the applesauce, the lady asked if I wanted more. Surprised, I said yes, grateful for her thoughtfulness. She also got us a couple small cartons of apple juice--after Ari was done the applesauce, I mixed the juice with some water in her sippy cup.

After filling out the forms, it was back to the now-too-familiar waiting room. Tony and I spent the rest of our wait taking turns walking around with Ari. She was so tired that she barely wanted to walk at this point, yet she didn't want to be held. So we'd put her down on the floor, but she wouldn't even stand up. So we paced with her, doing what we could to keep her content and quiet, hoping she might drift off to sleep. But she fought sleep like a champion--if there was a prize for resisting sleep, she would have won, hands-down.

Finally, around midnight (so if you're keeping track, it's been 5 hours now) we got into a room. Where, of course, there was more waiting. Ari was still fussing--wanting to be held, yet not wanting to be held. We finally laid her down on the bed, where I rubbed her tummy to soothe her. In a matter of minutes, she dozed off.

Of course, as soon as she got nice and relaxed, the nurse came in, followed shortly by the doctor. They managed to get the bandage off her head and get a good look at that wound before she woke up fully and freaked out. The cut on her head looked so weird by then--it was swelling, obviously, but the numbing ointment had made the skin around it turn this strange whitish color. Her cut was still oozing, but not bleeding badly anymore. The doctor looked in her mouth, and said that there was a small cut in there, but nothing that needed stitching, since wounds in the mouth heal so quickly. He did seem to think her head needed a stitch or some glue, more for cosmetic reasons than anything else (to reduce scarring). But he wanted another doctor to take a look, so we waited again. Of course, after the trauma of being so rudely awakened, Ari was not about to let her guard down and fall asleep again. She amused herself by pulling herself up on her knees with the railing on the side of the bed. Her next maneuver was to stand, and Tony and I kept pulling her down. All we needed was another head injury. Of course, if there was ever a place to get a head injury, I suppose a hospital would be the best place.

Dr. #2 (sorry, I have no clue what their names were) came in, and agreed with the stitch for the same reason, and said he preferred a stitch to glue because he's seen too many cases of people coming back with infections from the glue. So off he went, and we waited again.

Dr. #1 came back, accompanied by a nurse who would help him hold Ari down. And here is where the real fun began. The doctor used a sheet to swaddle her, to immobilize her arms--this actually relaxed Ari, and sent me down memory lane, as I remembered how she used to love being swaddled as an infant. But once the nurse clamped her head in his hands, she flipped out again--she is not a big fan of being restrained in any way (and who can blame her, really?). The doctor rinsed the wound out with water while she screamed and squirmed, tears pouring down her face. Tony held her legs with one hand and kept his other hand on her chest, to make sure her arms didn't escape. I rubbed her tummy and stroked her cheek, murmuring softly to her as he worked, assuring her that we loved her, and we were right there, and she was doing great, and she was going to be fine. This was the only time I got teary-eyed, because the look in her eyes just about killed me--it was more than just annoyance, she was seriously panicking. Once the doctor actually started the suture, I had to avert my eyes. There's just something wrong about seeing someone thread a needle through your child's forehead.

He worked very quickly, and Ari settled down quickly afterward--the poor thing was sweaty and bright red from all her struggling, and beyond exhausted. The doctor gave us some antibiotic ointment, gave a few instructions, and then promised to come right back with more instructions. So, again, we waited. Eventually, a nurse (a different one) came in with the instructions for us, validated our parking (so we wouldn't have to pay for it), told us we'd be billed for the visit and that we were free to go.

As we left the hospital, the road we would normally take to get back on the highway was closed. We didn't know where to go, so we drove down the next street, and saw a few cop cars pulled off to the side of the road. They were all standing around outside their cars, not looking particularly busy. Tony slowed down, rolled down his window, and asked, "How do I get to the highway?"

One cop looked at him haughtily, and replied, "Hi."

Not understanding him, Tony repeated his question. "How do I get to the highway?"

"Hi." A little more snooty this time.

"What?" Tony asked, utterly confused at this point.

"Well, I just thought you might say hello or something before you go asking for directions," the cop huffed. When Tony stammered a bewildered, "Uh, okaaaaay," the cop finally gave us directions, in a clipped, annoyed tone.

We drove off, both of us stunned by the encounter. Tony spoke first. "I really had no idea what he was saying--I thought maybe he was telling me to take High Street.... Besides, I'm on a one-lane road. I didn't want to block traffic."

I was seething. "It's not like when cops pull you over, they come up to your window and say hi and ask you how you're doing. They just go, 'Do you know why I pulled you over?' Geez."

"I'm tempted to go back there and tell him, 'Look, I just spent the last 5 hours in the ER with my one-year-old and it's 1 in the morning--give me a break.'"

"You should."

I told him I knew what the cop was saying from the beginning, but was too startled by his rudeness to react. After we got home, when we were getting ready for bed, I was still annoyed by the whole encounter. Sure, you could look at it as Tony being rude, but come on--we were in the lane in the road, not pulled over, so he was trying to get the info quickly and keep moving. There was no need for that cop to be so high and mighty.

Ari barely woke up when we got home, and after showing Uncle Pete her stitch, Tony put her right to bed. We both got ready for bed as quickly as we could, and crawled under the covers, groaning about how good the bed felt after spending most of the night standing up and walking around, hauling around a 24-pound kid, and not eating supper.

I peeked on on Ari before leaving for work this morning, and she was sleeping on her tummy (as usual) and laying on the side of her head where the stitch is--silly kid. I just talked to Tony and he reports that she's fine. He had to clean her wound and apply more antibiotic ointment, which, of course, she hated, but other than that, she's OK. We need to make an appointment with her doctor to get the stitch taken out on Tuesday or so, and then this whole ordeal will be over.

Hey, I look at it this way--we made it more than a year without any serious illnesses or injuries. I think that's a record to be proud of.

And before you ask--yes, pictures will be coming soon...

Thursday, September 20, 2007

If trees could scream

The Ari Report

Ari has been getting better about saying and waving bye--to everyone but me, still. Mary took her on some errands with her on Tuesday, and she said Ari was was waving and saying bye to everyone around. Last night, when we left for our nightly walk, she said bye to Tony. On our walk, and we ran into a couple neighbors of ours who were walking to Price Chopper. We all walked together for a little while, and when they left, we all said bye--of course, they said big goodbyes to Ari, and I encouraged Ari to say bye to them, but she just stared. A couple minutes later, when they were well out of earshot, Ari started chanting "bye bye bye bye," waving her hand both at herself and at no one in particular. You can definitely tell she's saying "bye" too--she loves to say the "b" sound, but last night, she was definitely saying "bye" not just "ba-ba" or "buh-buh."

Ari and I made a short excursion to Target last night, to get diapers, but since the diapers are so close to all the clothing, I couldn't resist the gravitational pull, and soon found myself perusing the clearance racks. I actually did look for a winter coat for her (which will soon be a necessity), but they only had a couple, and nothing really struck me. But the clearance rack marked 75% off? That definitely got my attention. And I got a couple steals. A pair of gray pants in size 2T--with an adjustable waist, which is a must for my skinny girl--for only $2.48. Then I got a 2-pair set of pajamas (2 T-shirts and 2 shorts) for $3.24. I couldn't pass up good deals like those. I even snagged a couple pairs of shorts for myself for less than $5 apiece. I know short-wearing season is over, but they'll be good for next summer.

I've been working on brushing Ari's teeth at bedtime, as part of our routine. Our doctor told us we could use either a toothbrush or a wet washcloth to clean her teeth, but now that she has all her molars in, it doesn't seem like a washcloth will do the job anymore. The first time I used the toothbrush with her (a few nights ago), I decided to take it slow, so she wouldn't freak out. I got it wet, then handed it to her to let her feel it and play with it. To my slight surprise, she put it in her mouth--a good sign. The second night, she did the same thing, and I grabbed onto the end of it and wiggled it around in her mouth a little. She squirmed and pulled away--but it was more like she was ticklish, not annoyed. Last night, I persisted a little more, and I'm pretty sure I got a couple good swipes at her molars. Again, she resisted a little--I think it was a combination of it feeling weird in her mouth, as well as "I want to do it myself" syndrome. I'm really pleased with our progress though. I was bracing myself for a battle, but she seems to be taking to this toothbrush idea really well. Now I just need to teach her to say "ahhh" and open up her mouth nice and wide so we can really get those chompers clean.

Other News

A friend of mine recently got deployed to Iraq. He and I actually graduated from high school together, and then he and I ended up at the same college, so Tony knows him and we both know his wife. Anyway, he's an Air Force chaplain, and this is his first "tour" (or whatever you call it) over there. His wife, also a friend of ours, has been sending out updates on how he's doing, etc.--which is really great. It's one thing to know you have a friend over there, but it makes it seem more real when you get regular updates on how things really are. She recently forwarded an e-mail from him that included a "wish list" of items they he and his men would like to receive. They have a place on base called the Airmen Ministry Center--a place where the guys can go and hang out, watch TV, play games, etc.--and my friend is looking for supplies to stock the place up. He mentioned specific things like those powdered drink mixes that you can add to water bottles, individually-wrapped snack foods, coffee and hot chocolate mix, toiletries, even CDs and DVDs, batteries, stationery, etc.

After I read the e-mail, I thought it sounded like a great project for our teen group, so I passed it onto Tony, and he talked to the teens about it last night in teen group. He said the teens sounded really excited about it--they plan to make up a letter to mail out to all the teens and their families, and they want to decorate a box in red, white and blue camouflage to collect donations. We've set a time limit on this project, and we hope to mail it out around the middle of October. I'm so excited about doing this, and I'm happy the teens are excited about it too. To me, this isn't about politics or whether or not you agree with the war--it's about helping out a bunch of guys who need some love from back home.

On a side note, it any of you, my dear readers, are interested in getting involved, I would be more than happy to pass on more information to you. You could either send items to me to include in our big package, or I could give you my friend's address and you could make up your own package.

Jack Handey QOTD:

If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Why I can't wait until Ari starts talking

Conversation with a 3-year-old boy, 3-year-old girl, and 4-year-old girl, after church on Sunday...

3YOB:
*mumblemumbleunintelligiblewords* come fwom?

Me: Say that again?

3YOB: *moremumblingandunintelligiblewords* come fwom?

Me: Yeah, I have no idea what you're saying, buddy.

3YOG: [exasperated] Him said...*mumblemumbleslightlyunderstandablewords* come from?

Me: [finally getting the gist of it] Oh... where did Ariana come from?

3YOB: Yes.

Me: Well, uh... from God.

4YOG: [without missing a beat] Nuh-uh, she came from your belly!

Me: Well, technically, yes, but God put her there, so... same thing.

4YOG: I know how babies get in your belly!

Me: [raising an eyebrow] Oh you do, do you?

4YOG: Yup. You eat a lot of food and then you get a baby in your belly.

Me: Really. I think you should go tell your mommy about that.

Monday, September 17, 2007

One legend that keeps recurring throughout history

I always feel like I have so much to say on Mondays, after not writing for a couple days. Here goes...

Friday night, I stopped at the grocery store on my way home. My brother Pete is staying with us for a week, and Greg and Wayne were coming over to do a guys' night. I decided to buy a box of brownie mix--it's become a kind of tradition for me to make them brownies when they do guys' nights. I went to the new Price Chopper, which, because it's so new, is always having special deals and contest and giveaways and things of that nature on weekends. A guy standing outside the door asked me, "Do you like ice cream?" Unable to come up with a clever answer, I stammered, "Sure." He handed me a coupon for ice cream--not just X cents off a carton, but FREE ice cream. I grabbed a carton of cookies and cream, 2 boxes of brownie mix, and spent a total of $4. When I got home, I shared the news of my good fortune with the guys, telling them that the universe had rewarded me for my good deed (deciding to make brownies). Wayne was there, but Greg wasn't yet, and the 3 of them made their own trip to the store to score some more free ice cream. They were gone forever, and when they got back, they regaled me with tales of all the free samples they had eaten, showed me the free grape tomatoes they got (as well as the free ice cream), and presented me with flowers that Tony won by correctly giving the names of 2 managers to the florist (one of the many contests that was going on).

Later that night, Tony got a call from Matt, who had been given 2 tickets to a local college team's football game, for Saturday. Of course, Tony wanted to go (since this local team is a pretty big deal around here), and when he got there, he participated in a pitching game (to see who could pitch the fastest), and won a $50 gas card. So not only did he get to go to a big-deal football game for free, he actually made some money out of the deal. Not too shabby, eh?

In Ari news, she has learned how to do the sign for "more," which she suprised me with on Saturday morning. I was feeding her breakfast, randomly signing and saying "more" to her as I fed her (I really need to work on my own consistency with this sign language thing), when suddenly I noticed her doing something funny with her hands. I had a few moments of the typical, "Wait, is she doing what I think she's...? Nah, must be my imagina--wait! She's doing it again!" before I finally realized that she was, really and truly, doing "more." Coincidentally, that same day in the mail we received a set of Signing Times DVDs that my sister-in-law was kind enough to send me. I am definitely going to take advantage of her new discovery and start bombarding her with all sorts of new signs. (And, yes, I plan to get it on video--patience, grasshopper.)

Saturday, after Tony and Matt were done with football game, we all headed to Six Flags. Tony, Pete, Ari and I got there before Matt, Kristin and Nick did, so we let Ari out of the stroller to walk around. Let me just tell you, this kid is fast now. She's not running yet, but she may as well be, for as fast as she can skedaddle around now. Tony and I took turns following her around.



Another picture where I think she just looks so grown up. And check out her shoes--I know you can't tell, but they're Nike, and they are awesomely cute. Gotta love hand-me-downs.



By the time Matt, Kristin and Nick showed up, Ari had gathered a little "fan club"--a group of 3 girls, looking to be around ages 10-12, were cooing and oohing and ahhing over her, and even asking to hold her. Tony, always proud to show off his daughter, was more than happy to let them hold her and hug her. Of course, she wasn't too fond of being held when there was so much walking to be done.

Inside the park, we hit up all the kiddie rides, starting in the Thomas the Tank Engine section. This picture was taken by Pete when we rode the bus ride--Kristin and Nick are in front of us. Basically, the little bus goes up in the air--but it went a lot faster than I thought it would, making my stomach leap, and making me hold onto Ari a little more firmly. I'm not a big fan of heights, so I was mildly freaking out, while Ari squealed and giggled and loved it to death. Tony thought it was hilarious that I was more afraid of the ride than Ari was.



I rode the swings with Ari in Wiggles World. This picture make me giggle because it looks like my legs are Ari's legs--so it looks like my kid has abnormally long legs.



The reason Ari is all turned around in both these pictures is because every time we swung around near Tony, he called her name, trying to get her to look at the camera for a picture. But she was a little slow to catch on to where the voice was coming from, she she would turn around to look for him, not seeing him until we were already past him. It was too funny--every single time, she would furrow her little brow and whip her head around, searching the crowd for Daddy.



As we were leaving Wiggles World, we happened across a stage show featuring several of the Wiggles animal characters. We stopped for a few moments, and Matt and Tony took the kids a little closer, while Kristin and I (and Pete) hung back. Ari danced a little to the music, and when we put her back in the stroller and started to leave, she waved at the stage. You have to understand--this is a child who knows full well how to wave, but only does it when she absolutely wants to. Do you think she waves bye to me when I leave her with my mom or Mary? No. But will she wave good-bye to people in giant animal costumes? Apparently.

There was a big Christian concert going on in the picnic area, so we headed down there, just in time to catch the one band Tony really wanted to see. It was dark at this point, and getting very chilly. Here's a pic of Ari and Nick, sitting on their dads' shoulders.



And another of Ari on her Daddy's shoulders. When she was with just me, she wanted to walk walk walk all over the place, but when Tony came back, she was content to sit on his shoulders. It probably had to do with her being tired by that point, but I know it was partly because she is such a Daddy's girl. And, hey, she had a great view from way up there.



On Sunday, Tony's dad and aunt were passing through our area on one of their road trips, so we got to see them in the evening. We all went out to dinner--it was a place we took Tony's dad to before, and he liked it so much that he wanted to go back. We had a nice time. I have now realized that Ari is no longer an ideal dinner companion. We kept her distracted with Cheerios and Goldfish while we waited, and then asked the waitress to bring out her kid's meal as soon as it was ready. She happily wolfed down about half the bowl of mac and cheese (made from scratch--it was delicious) and played around with a couple of the French fries. By the time our meals came, she was pretty much done eating, so Tony and I took turns keeping her distracted and entertained. She has perfected the art of that high-pitched, shrill scream that kids do so well--the kind that lasts just a few excruciating seconds longer than is bearable, and makes everyone in the restaurant turn and stare. She only did it a few times, but that was more than enough. I can't complain, though--she could have been much worse. When we were done eating, I took her outside while we waited for the bill, since she was way too restless by then. As soon as I put her down on the sidewalk, she zoomed off, and protested every time I grabbed her arm and tried to gently steer her in a different direction. She is going to be a handful--I can just tell.

I'm sure I have more stuff to say, but this entry is long enough already, and after all, tomorrow is another day.

Jack Handey QOTD:

I bet one legend that keeps recurring throughout history, in every culture, is the story of Popeye.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Boxing is like a ballet

I have to start out by saying thanks to everyone for caring so much about my jaw. I wasn't digging for sympathy with my "I'm aware that I'm the only one who cares" comment--I just felt like I'd been going on and on and on about it, and that you all were probably thinking, "OK, enough about your stupid jaw already." How foolish of me to underestimate all of you. I will be sure, from now on, to give you regular, detailed updates on the condition of my jaw. *ignores collective groan*

--------------------

I made chocolate chip muffins last night--the package was supposed to make 6, but I managed to get 8 out of it. So I ate 2 of them last night, completely guilt-free. After all, those 2 extra ones were never supposed to exist--therefore, they had no calories or fat, right? I hope I haven't messed up the time-space continuum or anything.

For dinner last night, I had a brownie, topped with Edy's Loaded Cookies and Cream ice cream. And I don't even care. I'd do it again tonight, except we're out of ice cream. I can't imagine how it disappeared so quickly.

--------------------

Tony and I spent way too much time last night discussing Big Brother--him watching the live feeds and checking message boards and me asking him questions about how the game is played. I also informed him that he can never again make fun of me for any of my reality show addictions. I'm glad this show is almost over, because it is truly unhealthy to care so much about the lives of strangers--and some not-so-nice strangers, to boot.

"To boot"--what does that even mean?

--------------------

I caught a few minutes of Letterman last night, where he was interviewing Viggo Mortensen. I glanced at the screen, saw Viggo, and said to Tony, "Holy crap, he's tiny!"

He looked at me oddly. "Um... yeah? You didn't know that?"

"No--I just kind of imagined him being really tall and burly. Look at him--he's this big!" I held my finger and thumb about an inch apart to demonstrate my point.

Tony laughed. "Didn't you notice him in Lord of the Rings?"

"That's exactly why I thought he was big--he was this big important character. Didn't he end up being the king or something? So I just kind of assumed he was a big guy."

"Dude, he was shorter than Liv Tyler!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't pay that much attention to those movies."

Anyway, that wasn't the main point of this story. As the interview went on, Viggo told a story about a tattoo on his wrist. He said when his son Henry was first learning to write his name, he used to write H's everywhere, because he was so proud of his new ability. Viggo said he used to write on him--he joked that it was either him, or the walls. But then he added that one day, he had an idea--so he went to a tattoo parlor and had them tattoo over where his son had written an H, so he would forever remember that stage in his son's life. Tell me that is not the coolest idea for a tattoo ever.

--------------------

This morning was one of those brisk, chilly mornings that reminds you fall is almost here. I loaded up the car with my stuff and Ari's stuff, then debated starting the car to warm it up for us. We got a note from our management office a week or so ago, telling us that there had been several reports of car buglaries (not sure if the whole car was being stolen, or if things were being removed from the cars), and that they were aware of it, and had the local police department working with them, blah blah blah. So needless to say (but I'm going to say it anyway), I'm much more hesitant to start my car in the mornings and leave it unattended. Which is really going to suck once winter gets here. It makes me both sad and angry to think that we live in a world where you can't even leave your car running for 5 minutes without worrying that someone is going to steal it.

(And before you suggest it, let me stop you--it's not worth it to put an automatic starter in my 9 1/2-year-old, over-199,000-miles car.)

--------------------

One of my co-workers came in this morning, complaining about her 2 kittens, who playfully attacked her this morning, leaving scratches all over her hands. I told her if it would help, I had Disney Princess band-aids she could have, and her face lit up. See, I'm not the only one who realizes that sometimes a kiddie band-aid really can make a boo-boo all better.

--------------------

Another co-worker stopped me in the hall the other day specifically to tell me that it looks like I'm back to my pre-baby weight. Though I told her that I'm still about 5 frustrating pounds away, it still made my day. I wasn't even wearing one of my skinny outfits.

--------------------

I was cleaning my desk a little today--sorting through old birthday card from co-workers and that sort of thing--when I came across this card from Tony. There's no date on it, but I'm sure it's well over a year old--maybe even 2 years or more.

To my most precious gift!

You, Sara, are my soulmate, my best friend, my beautiful princess, my lover, my sexy sweetheart, my one and only, my wonderful wife, and my love. With all my heart, truly, madly, and deeply, I am in love with you!

Tony


I so needed that today.

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Jack Handey QOTD:

To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

In order to understand mankind

Just several random thoughts, in no particular order....

My mom just celebrated her 5-year "survivor-versary" (as I called it) of breast cancer yesterday. She is now considered "out of the woods" when it comes to recurrence, which means she only has to be tested every 6 months now, instead of every 3. I am so happy for her, and so aware of how lucky I am to have her in my life.

Speaking of people that I am lucky to have in my life (ooh, you like that transition there?), Ari has learned a new "trick"--she brushes her hair. She reaches up onto the bathroom counter, grabs Tony's hairbrush (no other one will do), and runs it over the top of her head. It is quite cute, and I really need to get a picture/video of it.

I really should never--never--be allowed to roam the baby/kids' section in any store unsupervised. To my credit, though, the 2 new onesies I bought for Ari were both on clearance--roughly $2 each--but still.

My jaw is feeling better. I'm aware that I'm the only one who cares.

We have officially started Christmas shopping. Sure, we've only purchased one gift, but it's a start. And since we're seeing Tony's family at Thanksgiving this year, and exchanging Christmas gifts then, we'll be forced to abandon our procrastinatory ways and shop early.

(Yes, "procrastinatory" is a word.... Because I said so.)

"The Office" is now in reruns (syndication? whatever you call it) on TBS, Tuesdays at 10 and 10:30 PM. I got to watch the pilot episode in all its glory last night. It's interesting to go back and watch the pilot episode of a show after you've watched it for a while and fallen in love with it--it's a whole different perspective.

One of my goals in life is to learn all the words to this song... "The Nations of the World" by Yakko Warner (from Animaniacs). Of course, by the time I do, it will probably be outdated (if it isn't already).



Maybe a better goal is to learn all the word to this song--less of a chance of any of these changing, right?



Someday, when Ari has to learn all the states and their capitals, I am so going to teach her this song. Because that's the kind of cool mom I am.

Hey, you'd better have watched those--I went to a lot of trouble to provide you with that quality entertainment.

Jack Handey QOTD:

Maybe in order to understand mankind, we have to look at the word itself: "Mankind." Basically, it's made up of two separate words--"mank" and "ind." What do these words mean? It's a mystery, and that's why so is mankind.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

The face of a child

I feel like I haven't really had anything of substance to say lately, so you're just going to have to deal with some pictures and video today, with minimal commentary from me. I know how much you all hate Ari pictures/videos, but you'll just have to grit your teeth and soldier on. You can do it--I believe in you.

I recently had to clear off the bottom half of the fridge, since Ari was always pulling off the pictures and magnets. So now, all the pictures are on the top half, and all her magnets are on the bottom, where she can remove them to her heart's content. She looks a little guilty in this picture... and, somehow, very grown-up.



She loves to look at the pictures on the fridge too--she points and gets all excited. In this clip, you can hear the way she "talks" to pictures now--that little sing-songy voice.



Here she is with the Belle doll I wrote about yesterday (looking a little hypnotized by it)...



And, a close-up of the Belle doll. I know it's kind of ugly, but it's in a so-ugly-it's-kind-of-cute way.



We bought some Jello Jigglers, thinking she would love them. But instead, she poked at it, spit out the one bite she took, and ultimately threw it on the floor. It took the dogs a while to dispose of it, too--guess it was too slippery for them.



And one last video. We dug out this old keyboard--figuring since we never use it, someone might as well get some use out of it. Ari loves playing with it. Here you can see her dancing (even standing on tiptoes a couple times) and playing the piano with her feet. She used to only be able to dance if she was holding onto something for balance, but now it looks like she can do it without holding on--though you can see her almost lose her balance a couple times.



And that's all I've got. I think that's enough cuteness for one day--wouldn't want you to overdo it and then get a tummyache.

Jack Handey QOTD:

The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.

Monday, September 10, 2007

If dogs ever take over the world

Not only is it Monday, but it's a dreary, threatening-to-be-rainy Monday. I feel so tired and slow today, in spite of a good night's sleep last night. I was in bed at 11, and woke up around 6, which means I got a solid 7 hours of sleep. I know the ideal is 8, but 7 is great for me--I usually average around 5-6, if that. Plus I got to sleep in a little on Saturday. So I should be feeling well-rested and ready to face the week--but instead, I want to slip into my baggy sweats, crawl under a fuzzy blanket and read a good book, letting myself drift off to sleep when my eyes get heavy. I always feel that way on rainy days--it seems like rainy days were made for cozy sweats and good books.

And to add to my tiredness, I already have a headache, and a slightly achy jaw. I honestly think my jaw symptoms have gotten better, but now that I'm paying attention to them, they seem more numerous. So while I may be feeling better, I am acutely aware of every little twinge in my jaw. I'm trying pay attention to the things I do that are bad for my jaw--such as leaning my chin on my hand (which, apparently, I do a lot), biting my lip (because doing so puts your jaw in an odd position), and clenching it without realizing. Right now, I can't tell if this jaw ache is due to TMJ symptoms or if it's just an extension of my headache, but either way, this only intensifies my wish to be back home, curled up on the couch.

But enough complaining. We had a good weekend. Friday night we went out to dinner with Pastor and Dawn--a new restaurant opened across the street from us, and we wanted to check it out. We had about a 30-minute wait, and Ari kept herself amused by walking up and down and all over the sidewalk, seemingly unfazed by the humid evening air. The restaurant was nice--service was a bit slow, but that's to be expected in a place that's only been open a week. It was a sports bar/grill, so there were TV screens of all sizes covering the walls, and the atmosphere was quite noisy. That made it a little hard to carry on a conversation, but it was great for when Ari started getting antsy--you couldn't even hear her whining over the din. We ordered her some mac and cheese with fries (shaped like smiley faces--so cute you could just eat them up. Which, uh, I did, since she didn't want them).

I don't even remember what I ordered. Oh wait--it was some kind of chicken wrap. I've decided that going out to eat with a toddler is a good diet plan--you're so distracted by trying to keep them amused and quiet, and then by trying to feed them, that you hardly finish what's on your plate. I did manage to gulp down a few onion rings, which I remember because the dipping sauce was so good. It seemed like pretty much the same sauce they give you with the bloomin' onion-type things at other restaurants--that pale orange-y colored sauce--but just so much better.

Saturday, we ended up at the mall. Tony dragged me into the Disney Store--he's always wanting to go in there, in case we see any of my old co-workers, so that he can show Ari off. It's cute that he's like that, really, but I try to resist going into that store because I know I'm going to want to buy something. And, I did. There was a wall in the back with a bunch of the Disney princesses in a rag-doll style, and I zoomed in on the Belle one. I've seen these dolls before, but today, they were on sale, and the look of delight on Ari's face when I showed her the doll sealed the deal. All of a sudden lately, she gets very excited when she sees faces--whether it's another baby in real life, a picture of a baby in a magazine, or a doll. She reached out for Belle, cooing and grinning and touching it, and Tony just smiled at me. "Do you want to get it?" he asked.

"Yes--we have to begin the brainwashing." And as Ari continued making friends with Belle, I leaned in close to her and began murmuring, "Belle is the best Disney princess ever. Belle is your favorite princess. You love Belle."

Of course, 5 minutes after we left the store, I was picking Belle up off the ground and stashing her in the basket underneath the stroller for safekeeping. It's OK, though--this brainwashing thing takes time.

Ari was starting to get a bit antsy in her stroller, so we let her play in the play area, which was a little bigger than the one in the other mall, and much more crowded, being that it was a humid, summery Saturday. She did well, though, and held her own against the big kids. She got wiped out a couple times by bigger kids, but it didn't seem to bother her--the only time she cried was toward the end, and I think she was getting tired anyway. But she spent most of the time happily exploring, and even climbing a little. I can tell she's on the verge of learning to really climb--she's always lifting up her foot on bookcases and things like that at home, as though she's trying to figure it out. She's great at climbing up the stairs at home (which is really more like crawling up), and she was able to use this new skill in the play area. I always find it funny that every time we take her to the mall play area, she gathers a little "fan club" for herself--without fail, one or 2 (or more) older girls will latch onto her, and follow her around, wave at her, talk to her, etc. And she just drinks it all in.

Sunday was busy, as always--church in the morning, and then we had a big church-related meeting at Pastor and Dawn's house afterward. We hung around after the meeting, too, and didn't get home until about 7 PM. As much as I love hanging out with friends, I get to the point where I just want to be home. Especially on a Sunday evening, because as the day draws to a close, I start thinking about the week ahead--thinking that I need to pick out clothes for work, pack Ari's bag and food for the day, do dishes, and a hundred other little things in preparation for the long week ahead. But in spite of the list in my head, I spent an hour on the couch with Tony, watching Big Brother 8 (which he's gotten hooked on, in spite of himself). About halfway through the show, as I was vocalizing my dislike of a couple characters, he grinned at me and said, "So you're really getting into this show now, huh?"

I shrugged. "Not really--I'm just watching it because you're watching it. And I want to watch TV with you." I repositioned myself so that I was snuggled up against him, and watched the rest of the show. Sometimes, dishes and chores can wait.

Jack Handey QOTD:

I hope if dogs ever take over the world, and they chose a king, they don't just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas.

Friday, September 7, 2007

I wish I had a Kryptonite cross

I have come to a conclusion--I have a lot of health issues on the right side of my body. (Bear with me--I promise this will be a short paragraph.) You all know about the jaw pain, which I mentioned yesterday. I've also had problems with my ears all my life, but mostly with my right ear--there is a lot of scar tissue on the eardrum due to having so many infections as a child, which makes me hard of hearing in that ear. Then there's my migraines--almost always, they start and/or remain the most severe on the right side of my head. There's even smaller stuff, like warts--I have only a handful, but the majority are on the right side of my body (one on my hand and a few on my leg). I'm not sure what all this means--maybe it's the curse of being right-handed? I just thought it was interesting. To me, anyway. Tony wasn't impressed with the news, and I'm sure you're not either.

So, moving on to the Ari update... one thing that's been on my mind recently is her eating habits. She's been doing well with eating, and even with trying new foods, which is good. The other night, she happily gobbled up some fresh, steamed green beans--which surprised me, since she never really liked the green beans in baby food. Then again, fresh food always tastes better than canned. But it struck me the other day that, in a way, I am fully responsible for her eating habits. Yes, I know she can (and does) pick and choose what she will eat, but since I am the one preparing the food for her, much of the choice lies with me. Here is this little person who has no food addictions or weaknesses yet--at least, not ones as strong as mine. She isn't addicted to chocolate, she doesn't get cravings for McDonald's french fries, and she doesn't know what soda tastes like. So as her mother, it is my responsiblity to introduce her to healthy foods--to help her establish good eating habits and prepare her for a lifetime of good choices. If I wanted to, I could be one of those moms who only feeds her kids organic foods. Or I could ban all chips, soda and other junk foods. Or I could make her a vegetarian. I'm not getting all power-trippy or anything, because honestly, it's a sobering thought. She is this new little life--right now, her little body is untainted by excess sugars, caffeine, trans fats, and all those other evil ingredients that I stuff into my body. It's up to me to help her maintain her perfect health.

So this probably isn't a good time to mention that she had her first taste of pizza last night--and loved it.

Ari has decided she's scared of the vacuum cleaner. It never bothered her before, but Tony told me that the past couple times he's vacuumed (yes, my husband vacuums, regularly--jealous?), she's been freaked out. I had yet to witness this phenomenon... until last night. Tony pulled out the vacuum cleaner, and as he prepared it (unwrapping the cord, etc.), Ari began protesting. It's hard to describe--she wasn't crying or whining or even acting scared. It was more like she was indignantly telling him, "Hey Dad? I see what you're about to do, and I DON'T LIKE IT." I scooped her up in my arms right before he started. Yeah, yeah, I know--you're not supposed to coddle a child and affirm their fears, but, hey, I hadn't seen her all day, and I wanted to take advantage of a moment where I could cuddle my active little girl. The funny thing was, once he turned it on, she quieted down. She kept an eye on him, but stopped her complaining (maybe she figured he couldn't hear her anyway?). I held her close, nuzzled my nose against the side of her head, and sang the first song that popped into my head--"I Can Hear the Bells" from Hairspray. Once Tony was done, I put her down, and she waddled over to the vacuum cleaner, as though she had to check it out. She protested only a little more--as though she had to get in the final word (or maybe she was saying, "OK, you're done--put that crazy thing away NOW"). It was the funniest thing, though--the way she acted was unlike anything I've seen her do yet. It was as though she was insulted that we would dare disturb her peace and quiet with such an obnoxious machine (as though she's so silent herself).

We were driving somewhere the other day, and Ari was just chilling in her carseat. I have to say that so far, she is an excellent traveler--even on long trips. Tony glanced back at her, and then said to me, "I wonder if she ever gets bored back there." I pointed out that we often give her toys, but that she usually ends up tossing them aside. As a joke, I handed her a Reader's Digest--I opened it to a random page and placed it in her hands, expecting that she would mangle it and/or chew on it. But instead, she held it properly, and started babbling up a storm. But there was something different about the babbling--she was speaking in the kind of sing-song-y, light voice you use when you read a child a story.

Last night, I was reading her her bedtime story, and she did the same thing. She's always liked to grab at the pages, trying to turn them or close the book while I struggle to see the words past her giant head. But last night, even with her pacifier in her mouth, she started the same type of babbling--a light, airy tone, full of gentle ups and downs, as though she was mimicking my story-telling voice. I hope she loves reading as much as I do.

Speaking of reading, I think the Harry Potter book has renewed my hunger for reading. It's not that I stopped loving to read, but you know how it is--life gets in the way, and reading for pleasure drops low on the priority list because there's just no time. In fact, the only thing I was reading was magazines--and even then, they were starting to pile up, unread (we have way too many subscriptions). But since reading Harry Potter was such a priority for me, I found that I was making time to read it--sure, maybe I was staying up too late at night, but the point is, I made time, and once I was done, I wanted more. Not more Harry Potter, necessarily--just more reading. It was like I suddenly realized how much I missed it. So I jumped right into a new book--a piece of Christian fiction by Ted Dekker, titled Three. I just finished it last night, and am debating what to start next. Mary lent me a copy of The Memory Keeper's Daughter, which I've heard is good, so I'll probably start on that next, just so I can get it back to her as soon as possible.

I know several of you love to read as much or more than I do. So here's your chance to spread the love--any good book recommendations for me? I'll read just about anything, so go crazy.

What's that? You want a book recommendation from me first? Fine... here's one of my all-time favorites. The Princess Bride by William Goldman. Yes, the book the movie is based on. If you loved the movie, you'll love the book even more. As cliche as it sounds, it's true--the book is so much better.

Your turn.

What's that again? All right, relax--I didn't forget...

Jack Handey QOTD:

I wish I had a Kryptonite cross, because then you could keep both Dracula AND Superman away.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

A voodoo globe

For the past week or so, I have had some stiffness and soreness in my jaw, on the right side. It's not painful--just slightly achy and annoying, and it doesn't hurt to chew (actually, chewing or talking relieves the ache). I mentioned it to Tony once, and declared that I surely had tetanus. "After all," I reasoned. "That's why they call it lockjaw--it starts with a stiff jaw, and next thing you know, your jaw is locked in place, and all your muscles get paralyzed and you die. And I'm sure I'm not up to date on my tetanus shots." His response was what I expected--the sarcastic agreement. "Yes, honey--you have tetanus. Too bad. Been nice knowing you." And I know it's silly to jump to the worst-case scenario like that. But I can't deny that thoughts like that cross my mind.

A quick Google search has informed me that it could be TMJ, which apparently afflicts many people. My symptoms seem to line up: stiffness in the jaw, a clicking or popping sound when opening the jaw (which has only happened a very few times). Perhaps TMJ could even explain some of my headaches--maybe even my migraines. Who knows. But I've also learned that treatment for TMJ is frequently do-it-yourself type of stuff--quit chewing gum (which I don't, anyway), avoid eating foods that require a lot of chewing or require you to open your mouth wide, apply heat, take a pain reliever to help the pain/inflammation, use massage to soothe the muscles. I've also found some exercises online that I can do to strengthen my jaw muscles and help realign my jaw. I love Google.

I wonder if my [jaw pain/TMJ/whatever it is] is related to stress. I've only ever noticed my symptoms at work. Not that my job is particularly stressful--actually, I love my job and we've been slow lately, so there aren't a lot of deadlines looming ahead of me. But I do sit all day, which often results in a stiff neck and some mild shoulder pain by the end of the day. So it could make sense that I unintentionally clench my jaw while at work. I did notice that I had no jaw pain all weekend long, and upon my return to work on Tuesday, it was back. It only flares up in the afternoon--which again leads me to believe that I clench my jaw throughout the day. Sometimes it remains stiff and sore for the rest of the evening, and sometimes not, but it's always better by morning. I'm trying to make a point of paying attention to how I hold my jaw throughout the day, and if I notice it feeling stiff, I make an effort to relax it.

Wow, could I be any more boring? On to other topics. And of course, my mind drifts first to Ari. Tony told me yesterday that he saw her doing the cutest thing. We put up baby gates during the day, and usually keep the dogs on the opposite side of Ari. That way she has the whole living/dining room area to play in, and the dogs can access their food and water bowls in the kitchen or go upstairs. Ari loves the dogs, and sometimes will throw toys over the gate at them, and giggle as they chase them. One of our gates is tricky--sometimes one corner of it will be loose, so by pulling it up a little, you can get it firmly in place. Tony had done that yesterday, leaving a slight gap between the bottom of the gate and the floor. Ari was laying on her tummy, reaching her hand under the gate to pet Ivan, cooing and talking to him. But by the time Tony grabbed the camera, she was sitting up again.

Then, later last night, Tony was in the bathroom, and Ari was fussing because she wanted her daddy. Next thing I knew, she was laying on her tummy, poking her fingers under the bathroom door, babbling at him. But once again, by the time I got the camera, she was sitting up, looking at me, and suddenly more interested in the camera than in talking to Daddy. And once I put the camera away, she whined at the door again. It was really cute how badly she wanted him. It was getting close to bedtime, too, so I'm sure that had a little something to do with her mood.

I just got a picture message on my cell phone from Mary--a picture of Ari on the swings. The other day, Mary asked me if I would mind if they took Ari in the car to the park, the library, etc. Of course I said it was no problem, and I thought it would be great to expose her to different places. I mean, Tony and I take her to the park too, but the more different environments she can experience, the better. Anyway, my point is, I love the Mary sends me messages like that. She's only done it a few times, but it always makes me smile, knowing that Ari is having so much fun and being so well cared for. She loves Mary and her 2 daughters. Now, when we arrive at their house in the morning, she starts smiling and wiggling as I get her out of the carseat--as though she just can't wait to see them and start having fun.

I stole some pictures of Ari from my sister-in-law Jess's blog. I'm sure she won't mind...

I took this one. Talk about snapping it at the perfect moment...



At Jess's parents' house--Ari loved this grate, and had to keep stepping on it or poking her fingers in it.



More popsicle pictures. That's Jess's mom holding her--the popsicle was her idea. As she said, she figured it was a sure-fire way to get to hold Ari for a few minutes.



And this was Ari's reaction when she bit off a big chunk. Shortly after this was when she lost interest. I wonder if she got a brain freeze?



And last, but not least... the Jack Handey QOTD:

Too bad you can't buy a voodoo globe so that you could make the earth spin real fast and freak everybody out.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

"That's dynamite, baby."

I rarely write on the weekends, and when it's a holiday weekend, that means there's even more stuff for me to try to remember when the workweek starts. I know we had a busy weekend, but I'm sure I'll end up forgetting some of what we did.

Saturday was a lazy day for me (aside from all the baking I did for various weekend events). Tony helped a friend move in the morning, then hurried home to take Sasha to Petco to get her rabies shot (so that we can get her new license). He ended up spending about 2 hours there, since the line was so long. But he also ended up getting her a full set of shots and tests, instead of just the rabies shot, so she should be good for a while.

Saturday evening, we went to my parents' for dinner, and Dave and Jess were there too. Ari didn't want to eat much at dinner--for some reason, she's weird about eating when we're away from home, even when it's food I know she likes. Maybe it's just all the excitement about being somewhere new--she doesn't want to stop having fun to eat. Who knows. But we had a fun evening. Jess and Ari played together while all the boys played Wii. Jess kept threatening Ari with, "I'm going to get you!" and Ari would squeal and "run" away from her ("run" is in quotation marks because we all know she's not really running). Jess was getting such a kick out of her. The funny thing was that Ari kept running to Tony to protect her--I was in the same room, but I guess Daddy offers better protection.

Sunday was church as always, and then Tony went to help at the soup kitchen in the afternoon while I lazed around the house. I got Ari to lay down for a nap, and she slept for nearly 3 hours. I'm wondering if she's working on a growth spurt--she's taken a few long naps like that recently.

Monday we went to Jess's family's house for lunchtime. Jess's brother and girlfriend have a golden retriever puppy named Cody, and Ari absolutely adored him. He was just her size.



She loves her own dogs too, of course, but Sasha pretty much ignores her, and Ivan plows her down sometimes, just because he's a big brute who doesn't pay attention to where he's going. Cody was perfect with her.

After some initial shyness, Ari did really great the whole time we were there. Now that she's so mobile, I had to keep a close eye on her while everyone was eating--she wanted to go after everyone's plates and cups. She also ate a bunch of watermelon--one of her new favorite foods.

Jess's brother Ryan loves Ari--he was trying to get her to give him a high-five, but she grabbed his hand instead.



I tried to get a nice picture of her with her Uncle Dave, but she wasn't in the mood for pictures. Heaven forbid someone make her hold still for 2 seconds.



Tony knows how to get her to smile, though--tickling.



She also had her first popsicle while we were there. She loved sucking on it, but once she started biting off chunks, she lost interest.



They have a closet that has mirrored doors, and Ari had a blast with that. She loves looking at herself in the mirror anyway, so I put her down, where she could touch the mirror, and she started kissing her reflection. (Conceited much?)



She paused to grin at me...



And then it was back to making faces at herself.



After we left there, we went home, and Matt and Kristin, along with Nicholas came over for dinner. Ari and Nick haven't seen each other in a month or so, and their interaction seemed so different--they were much more interested in each other than they used to be. Ari kept touching/poking his face, and babbling away at him. She does this thing now where she babbles, but she strings together a bunch of different consonant sounds and adds inflections, so it sounds like she's actually having a conversation with you. She was just fascinated with him.

For dinner, we grilled some burgers, and had fresh corn on the cob and green beans--delicious. Nick ate like a champ, while Ari picked at her food. She actually ate several bites of green beans, which surprised me--they weren't exactly her favorite when it came to baby food. But I have to agree that fresh, steamed green beans taste way better than mushy canned ones, and I'm sure they taste better than baby food.

After dinner, Nick was chilling in Ari's chair, while Ari was just walking laps around the living room. Kristin and I tried to get Ari to stand next to Nick for a picture, but she took off. This picture was taken only a moment before disaster struck.



See how he's looking after Ari? He leaned a little too far, and toppled out of the chair, whacking his head on the floor with a loud thud. Kristin comforted him and as he cried, I peeked in his mouth. We had just been talking about the kids' teeth--Ari's molars have just poked through, so all you can see is the points. But as I looked in Nick's mouth, I said, "Wow--look at his molars! They're all the way in." Then I paused. The inside of his mouth looked awfully red. "Uh, Kristin, I think his mouth is bleeding."

No sooner had I said that then blood started dripping out of his mouth. We rushed him to the kitchen sink, where I prepared a couple cold, wet papertowels. I have never seen so much blood come out of a kid's mouth--it was literally dripping out onto his clothes like it was water. We tried putting some ice on his mouth, but he refused, and the blood kept coming. When we finally got the flow to slow down, we laid him on the kitchen table, with me and Kristin holding him down while Matt looked in his mouth with a flashlight. It appeared as though he had a chunk of skin caught between the slight gap in his front teeth. As Matt pulled up his lip for a closer look, the bleeding started again.

Needless to say, our evening was cut short. Matt and Kristin packed up their things, and we sent them off with a couple more wet papertowels, the rest of the roll of dry ones, and some ice. They promised to call us later with an update. In the midst of all this commotion, Ari started crying too--I'm not sure if it was just for attention, or because Nick was crying too, but either way, it was kind of cute.

I have to say, Nick was a trooper--he was crying, yes, but it sounded like a normal kind of cry. Usually when a kid is badly hurt, they let out that horrible screaming cry--the kind of cry that strikes fear in a parent's heart because you know it means something is really wrong (like the way Ari cried when she hit her head and got that egg on it). Matt and Kristin called later and said that he had torn... well, I don't remember what it's called, but it's that little string-like piece of skin that connects your upper lip and your gums. Apparently, it had gotten caught between his teeth when he fell. He didn't need stitches or anything, and the doctor said they could use some Tylenol for the pain. Poor little guy, though--he was such a brave boy.

Since it was still a bit early, Tony and I took Ari to the mall to let her play in the play area. She had a great time, and all the other kids there fell in love with her. One 3-year-old girl in particular just adored her, and kept calling after her--"Baby! Baby!" It was sweet to see how gentle the older kids were with her--they kept patting her on the head and entertaining her with their puppets and toys. And she just reveled in all the attention.

And that was our weekend. Now it's back to work, back to real life. But before I go, just a couple more pictures....

A profile shot...



And a close-up. Man, I love this kid.



Jack Handey QOTD:

A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. "Hear that?" you say. "That's dynamite, baby."