Good job on the empathy Mom

My mother's city had a bad storm on Friday and many people are still without power.  My mom's neighborhood is on some funky electrical grid and her side of the street is separate from the other side.  For some reason whenever there's an outage her side is usually restored first.  That's how it's been this time as well.  My mom got her power back early Saturday morning.  

I talked to her yesterday and she said the other side of the street neighbors seem mad that my mom has electricity.  She said she was working on the yard yesterday (that is, chainsawing the 30 foot evergreen that was toppled) when a "little old lady from down the block" came by to complain that she had no power.  My mother's response?  "Well we don't have cable OR internet."  

For once I'm hoping for a perfume squirter person

I changed a poopy diaper like 2 hours ago and I can STILL smell poop.  I've checked, it's not on me.  Once that smell gets into your nose it seems to linger and torment you forever.  Add this to the running list of new torture techniques that should replace waterboarding - poopy diaper changing.  Or just put a diaper pail in each jail cell with prisoners.  That'll get them talking. 

My work friends

This week I got an email from one former co-worker who linked a CNN story about how scooters are now very popular because of high gas prices.  He said "laugh now but I was ahead of my time."  He had a scooter a few years ago and we teased him mercilessly.  Of course he was wearing a pink helmet and a t-shirt that said "girls don't poop" but yes, we were laughing at the scooter.

Another friend sent me an email today telling me that he forgot his anniversary was coming up until he got an email from Fuddrucker's informing him that he could get a free burger (with a purchase of a burger of course) on the big day.  I told him if he took his wife there on their anniversary I believe it is legitimate justification for stabbing him. 

OLD

A few weeks ago I turned 40.  And then quickly discovered that the directions to anything important (baby motrin bottle) are written in nearly microscopic print.  I am now forced to actually use those reading glasses I got a few years ago.  It's not just the glasses I'm afraid.   I've got crazy ass gray hair and the other night I went to a friend's birthday party and was exhausted the next day.  From bowling.  Until 9:30.  Also made spectacular fool of myself by falling down on my very first frame.  It was one of those bowling alleys that is apparently trying to be a club.  With the loud thumping music and psychadelic lights I thought for sure a seizure was imminent.    The birthday girl was turning 30.  I suppose I could have cemented my old lady status by telling everyone how much gas cost when I was younger (less than $1, I remember getting $1 worth when I was a poor high school student) or how we used to really live it up right by going to INXS concerts.  But I was too tired.

Consumer Alert

Ugh, I lost my diaper wallet which I loved.  I don't haul around a big old diaper bag for errands or short outings but I always need to have a supply of diapers and wipes because the child eats a ridiculous amount of fruit.  Side note, today in just fruit she ate about 1 cup of blueberries, a whole plum, a whole peach, half a mango, half a banana, and approximately 20 cherries.  Her constitution is what you would call vigorous. 

I decided to see what Etsy had to offer me.  And I was rewarded with this cuteness.  The seller had a picture of a blanket with ribbons sewn around the edges, I wanted one but could find none for sale.  She told me she can't sell them anymore because the Taggies people claimed patent infringement.  I did a little googling and found that the Taggies people spend their days scouring sewing forums and trying to trick people into making a blanket with ribbons on it so they can then threaten to sue them.  eBay sellers have had their auctions removed and now it appears Etsy sellers are targets as well.  

I'm a lawyer so I understand what patents are intended to do.  I also think that the protection claimed by the Taggies people is not quite as broad as they claim.  But of course, who wants to fight that battle?  I would also like to point out that spelling and grammar errors abound in their patent application (and one of the company founders is a former school teacher).    I'm sure the home based crafters on Etsy are likely to put a huge dent in the Taggies revenue so it's a good thing that they are stopped now.  

We actually have a few Taggies items - a stuffed animal (made in China) and a book and my daughter has shown little interest in either - HA!  And I never bought one of their blankets because honestly, I don't think they are very cute.  

So if you are desperate for a blanket with ribbons, I say boycott the Taggies meanies and find a nice friend or family member who sews and just make one for yourself.  I'll keep it on the down low for you.  

Chicken Dog

Our afternoon kicked off at the library.  With an act called "Chicken Dog."  Chicken Dog is a guy who plays the accordion and juggles and has a macaw named Lauren and dogs named Chicken Dog and Jumping Jack who do tricks.  It was quite honestly, very strange.  My child was fairly entertained (between the sucking on my car keys and trying to get into every purse she could find) and the other kids seemed amused.  I don't want to seem ungrateful for the free show but the flow seemed a bit frenetic and I honestly could not follow the whole story about the Christmas where Mr. Chicken Dog got tube socks and underwear.  I think he was trying to appeal to that kid/lowest common denominator humor.  Doesn't he know all you need to do is say fart, poop, or penis and you can kill with the little kid crowd?  

Here's my advice on how to better the show: more Chicken Dog, fewer weird childhood stories.  

Feminine protection

The baby has figured out how to open drawers and cupboards.  Nearly all of the accessible ones have all the dangerous stuff removed but I am waiting for the drawer locks that are self adhesive to arrive from the online order to take care of our bathroom cabinets.  Side note, unless you or your significant other are an engineer or carpenter forget about installing cabinet locks that have screws.  It takes a level of meticulousness and preciseness I do not have the OCD for.  

This morning, after standing at the shower door and watching daddy take a shower, the baby moved on to exploring the cabinets.  I had purposely put all of my "monthly" products in a low drawer because you hardly ever hear about calls to the poison control center or pediatrician because the baby has eaten a giant post-partum sanitary pad.  She was happily occupied when I heard my husband say "uh oh, awkward moment, you're going to have to explain that to her, I'm not prepared to have this discussion."  I looked to see that she had a tampon in each hand.  

Now it makes sense

In my quest to never watch anything remotely intelligent or important on television, save the FDR documentary I accidentally watched a few weeks ago, I watched a bit of the reality show that Lindsey Lohan's family has now.  

The episode I watched had Mama Lohan at some sort of party while the kids are back home, I think supervised by a teenage cousin.  They smell something burning and have the sense to call the fire department which finds that there's an outlet with wonky wiring that needs immediate attention.  Mommy's voice mailbox is full so she's out of touch while the 12'ish year old child tries to figure out how to track down an electrician.  They finally get in touch with mom who doesn't come home right away because she figures the kids have the situation under control.  

I wonder what type of emergency would be big enough to get mom home?  A leak in the self-tanning bottle?  

Parenting 101

My mom was visiting for a week to help celebrate the birthdays around here.  And like a good grandma she let the baby do whatever she wanted.  Like rifle through her purse.  It has more fun stuff than when I was a kid when the big excitement was finding a piece of tobacco covered gum in the bottom of it.  

In the daily dumping of grandma's purse, the baby unearthed some change and at some point found a penny and put it in her mouth.  My mom fished it out then looked kind of scoldingly at ME and said "she almost ate a penny!"  Fueled with ammunition of all the stories of horror from when my brothers and I were children, I had a good response at the ready "well your kid DID eat a penny."  I decided not to add that the same kid also ate a whole bottle of Bugs Bunny vitamins.  

I'm not sure I like this

For the past month or so the baby seems to have developed this little streak of independence.

Apparently it's some sort of developmental thing, you know, getting a mind of your own but right about now I'm thinking that the me getting to boss somebody around gig is ending a bit early.  I liked it.  The dog and the husband have long ago stopped listening to me so I was enjoying being the puppet master of someone's little world.  But now that someone doesn't appear to want a clean diaper, to play for 10 seconds while I get something to eat, or to eat anything other than blueberries.  How did the kid become a picky eater literally overnight?  

On another note, our water pressure today got freakishly good.  Which I realized when the Elmo sprinkler shot off the hose.   

One

My daughter turned one last week.  I am sad that the baby days are behind us because the odds that I will have another baby are pretty slim.  I am glad that the baby days are behind us because holy crap - that witching hour crying every night - what the hell was that about?  

When we brought her home from the hospital it still didn't feel quite real to me.  I couldn't believe I had a baby.  And they let me bring her home without any sort of quiz, just required that we name her, put her in a carseat, and promise not to shake her.  It still feels a bit unreal to me though the path of chaos through the house is a constant reminder that a baby lives here. One who can unearth lost objects - she crawled up to me and handed me the converter plugs for my long gone Blackberry the other day - so she is useful as well as cute.   

I'm amazed at how much life can change in just a year.  I'm amazed at how much I sing these days.  And not even good songs, mostly just the annoying ones from her toys that burrow into my brain and will not die.   But my feelings on motherhood haven't changed much from when my mom asked me after the first week if it was what I thought it would be.  It was, I told her, harder than I thought it would be but better than I thought it would be.