Lucky Thirteen

Or, Alternatively, Jennifer Trying to Be Clever and Failing Miserably.

As usual.

What a long, busy week *that* was. I just moments ago got Seth to lay down for the night. Lie down? Lay down. Grammar Police! His new thing now is to give me about eight minutes and then call, utterly pathetically, "Mommy...I need you to take care of me!" Which is code for "I want to sleep in your bed and kick you in the kidneys all night." And my coworkers wonder why I shuffle around and yawn all day now.

We had company for lunch today, as previously mentioned. And yes, I got the house cleaned, and no, A-M, you're NOT company. And if you're not careful, you won't be for Quite Some Time. I cooked a brisket, as requested, and it was tough and disappointing. All the barbecue sauce in the world couldn't have helped that slab of meat. Bleah.

Where DID the rest of the weekend, go, tho? How is it already 9:00 pm on Sunday night? How can I POSSIBLY already have to go back to what I lovingly refer to as The Bog of Eternal Stench? I was on my way in the other day, headed west on College, and could see our building looming in the distance. On the radio, as tho through divine intervention, a song started playing ... "Highway to Hell." Singularly well-timed. God, I hate my job.

Twelve

I just read an article about how women who repress their anger and don't have "fights" with their husbands really put their health at risk. They may as well have put my name in there somewhere, I'm a professional anger-represser. It's my thing, it's what I do. Obviously, it's going to kill me. So I just emailed Brian and told him I wouldn't do it anymore and did he prefer sudden, short explosions of rage, or calm "chats" about how we're making each other insane. And then I rattled off a few things he does that make me nuts. Simple stuff, like not getting the front door shut all the way, tracking mud through the house, and so on. No response yet. Probably pissed him off. :o)

Busy week here. Brian took three of the steers to Warrensburg this morning, and has a volleyball game tonight. He's taking Lacey to a concert on Friday night, her birthday present. Sunday we're having her birthday dinner at our house, so I'll be cleaning like a mad woman on Saturday. Occasional company is good, gets the house clean. :o)

Eleven

The cupcakes for Seth's Easter party at preschool tomorrow turned out rather well, if I do say so myself. (Seth thinks they're pretty cool, too ... you can even see on the cupcake in the top left corner where he swiped some icing.) :o)

And here are just some recent photos.

Not a great picture, but you can see the tooth he chipped on Valentine's Day. No, not kissing some icky girl. He crashed into another kid in the cafeteria at preschool.

Seth and I were sitting at the table when I suddenly realized I was having a one-sided conversation with his rear end.

He fell asleep in the chair!

Ten

I was getting Seth up this morning (which is pretty hard, most mornings, the kid likes to sleep!) and I always try to talk to him and get his brain moving a little, get him to enter into the conversation so he wakes up, and I usually ask him what he wants to wear, what he wants to eat, what color vitamin he wants, and so on. So I was asking him this morning what he wanted for breakfast, and he sat up and looked at me and said, "I want blueberry muffins." (We had them on Sunday.)

I said, "We don't have any left."

"You could go to the store and buy some more."
"No, I can't this morning, we don't have time."
"I could go with you."
"Not this morning, sweetie, we just don't have time."

He thinks about it for a second.

"Actually, Daddy could go!"

Never heard him use "actually" before. Plus, I like his logic. Made me laugh out loud. :o)

Nine

Big weekend at our house -- Seth wore big-boy underpants! Of course, they're the tiniest, cutest little tighty-whities ever, nothing "big" about them. The venture was 95% successful, he had one accident all weekend. We were very proud.

He's also writing his name by himself now. It is just SO amazing, watching him grow and learn so much, every day. Brian, of course, is just waiting for him to be big enough to mow the lawn. :o)

What else. Plans are underway for our five-year anniversary weekend next month, and we're also already planning our days for when we'll be in Key West, in November. Dolphins and glass-bottomed boats are of primary interest. We're all really looking forward to that trip. Not least because it'll be November, and we'll be in Key West for a week.

Eight

Jeez, three posts in one day. You'd think I had some free time or something. To which I say, Hardee Har Har.

Just popping back in to say I found a new singer I really like, Sara Bareilles, and her single "Love Song" is totally, um ... listenable. (How *does* a 37-year-old go on about a song without sounding like a 22-year-old?) Go to YouTube and watch "Sara Bareilles Love Song On The Radio For The First Time!!" It's fun, and genuine, and the song is really good. Great. Totally rad. Like, totally.

Seven

I ask you...

Who here thinks it would be a good idea, after a full day of throwing up, to feed a three-year-old bacon and eggs for breakfast, and Chinese food for lunch?

I got a call after lunch today, "Seth had a relapse." No kidding! Bacon for breakfast? He threw up five times yesterday!!

Men. At least I wasn't there to clean it up.

Six

At risk of seeming obsessed with this topic (among those who know me well, at any rate), I'm very excited to report that yesterday, we did not have to change a single diaper, Seth went on the "big boy" potty all day!! Of course, he's going for a new car, so he had some serious motivation. We did finish out the chart, so he knows we owe him that car now ... I bought it off eBay over the weekend and now we just have to see how patient he'll be with us while we're waiting for it to land in the mailbox.

I'd consider it an unqualified Good Day except that he was also sick all day, threw up four or five times. So it was also a Bad Day. Now I'm just waiting to see how long before I get sick, too. I consider it an Inevitability.

Five

Brian had given me a gift certificate to a spa as a Valentine's Day gift this year, so this morning I dropped Seth off (with PopPop) at a recreational center and went and had a pedicure. I'm not going to lie -- I like getting pedicures. I like the massage chair and the little hot tub for your feet, and I like getting to lay there while someone else scrubs off all the dry skin and rubs lotion on and then paints my nails. (Just in case you weren't aware of how a pedicure plays out...)

But ... isn't there something self-indulgent and ridiculous about getting a pedicure? I mean, really. We got a foot spa as a wedding present. Brian would rub my back for me, if I asked. I got a pedicure set last year for my birthday, so I have the tools at hand. I have forty-leven different kinds of lotions here, and several tres chic colors of polish. I could *totally* give myself a pedicure ... that is, if I felt like having the polish on my toes look like a baboon put it on for me. That part I don't do very well. So is that enough to justify making the drive and forking over the $50 for the pedicure?

Enh. I'm not really trying to be philosophical here. I'll let you decide.

Four

As I suspected, I don't have enough going on in my life to really maintain a blog in an interesting way. My days are long and filled mostly with work and household chores. I consider myself lucky if A) I can carve out twenty or thirty minutes an evening to sit down and read, and B) I have something interesting to read in the first place. I don't have a hobby ... how do you get one? If, at nearly forty years old, I don't have the remotest idea what I'm interested in or likely to be good at, how on EARTH do I find a new hobby? Or should I just hone the skills I have ... which are ... um ...

I read a lot.

Three

So Saturday morning I was changing Seth's diaper, and noticed a red mark in the crease of his thigh. I said "Oh, here's a red mark" and without missing a beat, Seth said "Pancakes would make it feel better."

I think we're in trouble.

Two

Just another quick post to put up some recent pictures.

Here, I had asked Seth to smile for me, so that I might have some pictures to put in the Valentines we were mailing to the grandparents. This is one of, let's say, eight or nine shots I took that evening. This was about as close as we got to a real smile. The Valentines went out sans photographs. I swear to god, he's Calvin. All he needs is a stuffed tiger.

Brian and Seth. My handsome boys. How'd I get so lucky?!?

Modeling the new hat and mittens we bought. May be the sole piece of evidence that we even owned this set ... he's certainly never agreed to put them on again. Why are toddlers so @#$%*& stubborn?!?

One

Okay, so after reading Karla and Ben's most excellent adoption blog for the past few days, I've decided to give this a try myself. Seems *somewhat* narcissistic, as I don't have anything really relevant going on, like being across the world adopting a beautiful boy and wanting to share the experience with my family back home. As I type this, I'm sitting in my messy "office" in my messy house ... there's a theme developing here. Obviously, my time would be better spent getting up off my ass and straightening up the house. And vacuuming the front room. And folding some laundry. And ... a myriad of better things to do. But here I sit. Typing. Like anyone's going to give a damn.

I also need to get my chubby, lazy ass on the treadmill again. We're celebrating our five-year anniversary next month. I've got my 20 year high school reunion to go to this summer. And then we're going to Key West for a week in November. So I've got three excellent reasons -- aside from the painfully obvious one of how big I'm getting -- to get back in better shape again. But here I sit. Typing.

Some people are pro football players. I am a procrastinator.