Athletic injuries, present and future

It seems I overdid it a few days ago when I went running for an hour. My knee... definitely something going on there. So I'm downgrading to power walking until things get back to normal, and I am considering getting a bike. I don't exactly feel old, but I feel like I am not a teenager anymore. 33 year old knees... definitely not the same as 16 year old knees. Throw in some back pain and all the other body stress from bending and lifting all day long, and there is a noticeable need for a sports massage and a day of yoga. In an effort to save my joints, I have put "look for a new bike" on today's to-do list.

Interesting news of the day

I have just received word that we may be getting a puppy for Nico. Details will be relayed as this saga unfolds...

Activities of the day: drinking champagne while watching Mom, Hubby and Opa put up the Christmas lights (I'm not lazy, I was holding Olivia); designing invitations for Nico's birthday party; nice family dinner; extensive afternoon nap time; guarding the babies while Frank is out for a drink. More champagne, and Sex and the City on demand. Right after Chappelle is over.

Nothing like a good shower

This evening I attended a very lovely baby shower for my dear friend Lauren. As an added bonus, I also got to hang out with my other dear friend, Jackie. The three of us worked together for more than five years, and even though we still get together with each other, and sometimes with the rest of our old work crew, I feel like we just don't get to see enough of each other now that we're all doing our own thing. I guess spending eight or more hours with people five days a week gives you the kind of attachment that doesn't fade away. But that's a good thing. There were also two gals there who used to work for one of our clients, and who I'd never before met in person. They've both moved on to other jobs as well, but it was amusing to sit and chat with them and finally put faces to their names.

It was great to see Lauren today, opening all her gifts, getting ready to become a mommy. She's going to make a great parent, and hopefully she will allow me to babysit. I can't wait to meet her daughter. Yes, it's a girl. Score one more for our team, ladies. One who will be dressed in some super snappy baby clothing, I might add.

I like pie

Tonight I brought back the old fashioned art of the homemade pie crust. Pastry at its best, I tell you. Now that I'm back in the crust swing, I can't wait to make something other than pumpkin pie. I'm patting myself on the back right now for adding a touch of cinnamon to the dough. Num!

Today we had a little family outing for last minute this-and-that. Whipping cream -- oh, yes, I am home-making the whip for my pie -- and flowers for my very festive centerpiece, along with some "Yo Gabba Gabba!" long sleeves and hoodies for the kids to wear at Nico's upcoming birthday party. I also threw the usual necessities into the heap... diapers, wipes, powder... I highly recommend the Johnson's variety with the yellow top. Frank's mom sent some home with him when he visited his family last year, and I have to say it's the best. Love that zinc oxide, boy.

Here is the amazing Olivia taking her first sitting-up ride in the stroller. She is becoming a real daddy's girl. Tonight Frank was mad at me because I was being a jerk to him (the nerve!), and Olivia totally took his side. I was trying to feed her and she kept giving me this furrowed brow look, like, "Oh Mommy, you are SO mean... I'm mad at you, too... arrrgh." But anyway, the stroller. She was so excited, it was difficult to get her to sit still long enough to snap a photo. But there she was, looking all around, playing with her puppy rattle, eating Cheerios the whole time. And loving it.

Giggles

Nico has recently learned that farting is funny. For some reason, he was dropping the stinkiest bombs tonight. I suspect it had much to do with the Vietnamese dinner we ate, but I could be wrong. Maybe it's just because he's my kid, but as downright foul as he smelled when I was tucking him in, it was still cute as hell.

Other cute Nico thing -- he loves going out to restaurants. And we think he's a vegetarian, based on how much he loves brown rice, veggies and tofu, and how little meat he is willing to ingest.

Liz, I know how you love posts about kid farts, so there you go. :D

Oh wait, I forgot... did I tell you Nico finally started calling me Mommy? I'm super excited about this. We were out at the food store and every time I would zip away (don't worry, Hubby was there with him) to get something in another aisle, he would shout, "Mommyyyy!" as soon as he recognized me walking back toward him. It probably helped that I made a big fuss over him, too, in return. I officially no longer feel like we are "that little boy walking with that girl who may or may not be his mother." We are Nico and Mommy, damn it, so get it straight fellow shoppers. Nico and Mommy.

New motivation

Once again, I was asked when my baby is due. That's the third time in the past few weeks. Honestly, I'm not even fat! It's just that one area. The lingering tummy of chub. Curse anyone whose belly immediately flattens out after carrying two big babies. But even that's not much to fall back on at this point. It would sound kind of lame if I were going around trying to explain that there had been almost 17 pounds worth of babies resting in that area in the past two years, stretching the crap out of the skin, and leaving behind enough excess fat to get myself a Brazilian butt lift. If you saw how big my belly got, and you knew I grew some hearty babies, then you might stop and think a moment before asking about my third, nonexistent child. I can't fault people for asking, considering I do have a tummy. The only thing that really hurts is my pride. Perhaps I could persuade them to ask me something else, like where I got my shirt, or who cuts my hair.

With Hubby's break from work comes the fantastic opportunity for me to take my runs during daylight hours. The kids are both down for naps, so off I go. I'm changing into my yoga pants, putting on my running shoes, and hitting the pavement as we speak. Fat, be gone!

I realize this is a recurring post... I'll let this be the final one. From now on, I'll simply update you on how quickly the fat is just melting off. *sigh*

Calling Dr. Monokian. Or not.

I have a lot of brain exhaustion tonight. I started writing a whole thing, kept losing my thoughts, and ending up way off the trail. Main thing bothering me in general lately? My teeth, and the way I am grinding them to a bloody pulp. I really need to call my dentist. Not that we even have dental bundled in with our health coverage, which would be super. I would already have an appointment booked. I like my dentist, so it's really a money issue that's keeping us apart.

This was Frank's first day of hiatus, which means a little visit from COBRA is coming up. As if health coverage weren't already costly enough, even when it's partially paid for by an employer, there is that horrible side of "time off" that finds me wondering, "Out of whose ass will we be pulling the money to pay for this month's insurance?" Hubby's company actually has, comparatively speaking, reasonably priced family coverage, which hovers in the high eight hundreds per month, dollar-wise. It's bearable when you figure him on his regular salary, with his employer's contribution, and the whole pre-tax thing. Now that I'm staring COBRA in the eyes once again, I am seriously considering my options. Drop the coverage all together, pay that outrageous amount, or get my own ass a job with benefits. Running these options over and over in my head, my first reaction is to grind my teeth as hard as I possibly can. Who knew insurance could be so bad for your dental health?

Note to self: never, ever use Butt Paste again.

Butt Paste. Sounds harmless enough. The supposedly super duper latest brand of diaper rash cream. I've heard it's great. I like the name. Remember, that's why I got the samples from the pediatrician's office the other day? So. Butt Paste. From now on I shall call it "The Evil Concoction Which Hath Inflicted its Painful Burning upon My Baby's Butt" Paste. Some people dig it, they swear by it, they love it so much they eat it straight out of the jar. As for myself, I am sticking with my beloved Triple Paste. Fuss-less, muss-less, no-makin'-a-baby-cry paste.

In other news, not only has Holiday Time officially arrived, so has the time of commercials advertising exorbitant gifts. My current favorites are the ones for diamond jewelry. Because, dudes, if your girl didn't want to get down with you before, she will once you buy her some rocks. Isn't advertising fantastic?

Early morning illness report, part deux

2:00 AM, still hating on the stomach virus. Fever has broken, feeling somewhat less disgusting. Will continue to eat saltines throughout the night, and sip water. It appears rest of household was in bed by 9:30 last night, no way to be sure as I slept through the greater part of the past 24 hours. Finding this odd, I cannot recall last time I saw hubby go to bed before midnight. Remembering he just spent all day taking care of both children, and is most likely exhausted on all levels, I am amused.

Early morning illness report

As if I really had to say it out loud, I hate stomach viruses. I'm going back to bed, y'all.

*blank*

Can't think of anything to discuss today. Took the babies to the pediatrician this morning for Olivia's flu shot follow-up. She got pink Hello Kitty Band-Aids. I grabbed a bunch of cans of free formula and some Butt Paste samples. I am the worst kind of consumer because I don't even use Butt Paste on my kids, but I like the name so I just had to have it. Nico got to eat a little snack bag of mini Oreos, the kind that's just the chocolate crispy cookie without frosting. Here is a list of words he has begun to say in the past two days: sock, eat, hand, foot, Hannah, yogurt, and puppies, which is what he calls his cereal puffs. He already says please, thank you, sorry, binky/dinty/chupón, mommy, daddy, grandmom, opa (German for grandpa), and when he sees my mom he says, "Hi Roe!" He also says up, down, help, and dark. At night he points out the window and says, "Dark outside." Oh and my favorite thing he says is, "Not on." This applies to everything that could potentially be turned on but isn't. Television, lights, radio, bathtub faucet, you name it. If it's off, it's "not on", and you're sure to hear about it.

Babies are currently napping. I am tempted to so the same. Eyelids are growing heavier by the minute. Zzzz...

*sigh*

I weaned the baby almost two months ago. I don't miss the nursing, but I sure do miss having boobies.

Does this mean we're going for portraits?

My bestie lovey friend Swisscake Mama has just informed me that I missed my blog's one year anniversary. Congratulations, me! You're fabulous!

Not only does my Swisscake have me trumped by one in the Number of Kids category, she also has the ability to capture every major child milestone three times over with professional portraiture. Her girls are so oft-photographed at their studio of choice that they asked Swisscake to sign a release to use the girls' photos to showcase just how adorable your kids will look when you bring them in for pics. I suspect it also has something to do with the fact that the Swisscake Girlies are incredibly, fabulously cute and charming.

All that aside, this is just one more thing I have lost track of. One year writing this blog? Really? Well I'm not surprised. If my wedding date weren't engraved inside my ring, I'd never be able to tell you what it is. I could tell you it was in 2006, and that it was either in the end of June or July. Hang on, lemme check. It says... 07-30-06. The rings were a gift from my mother-in-law, so it's a good thing the wedding was at the end of the month and not in the beginning. I'd be completely screwed because Peruvians like to do that thing with dates where the day goes first, then the month, then the year. We must have convinced her to write it with the month first... I vaguely remember her being very confused about why we wanted the month to come before the day. So there you go. I have lost so much memory control over my own life that it seems my dear friend is picking up the slack for me. Thank you, mama.

So not only do I have to get my butt out to the photographer's with two kids in tow, it seems now I also owe my blog a commemorative portrait for its first birthday. Swisscake Mama knows I have vowed to get on the pic-y bandwagon. One day I'll be able to send out those awesome holiday cards just like she does. I wonder if Hubby will complain about the kids posing with my computer in the pictures. That's modern, yeah?

*

To my sister, my sisters from another mother, our brother, and my cousins... thinking about all of you tonight. Sending hugs.

Picture perfect Monday

Yummy breakfast with the world's most perfect fried egg.

Well...

Since stupid Reggie decided to start barking at 2:30 this afternoon, I have a wide-awake toddler who only got half a nap. Our solution to soothe his cranky mood? Hugs, kisses, goofiness, and a musical on TV. Before his nap we had a small triumph when he asked to use the potty. So that's something.

We had a morning walk, and I sucked a lot of energy out of that one cup of coffee at breakfast. Must have been the hazelnut. Coffee is always better with the hazelnut. Speaking of our morning meal, I made almond croissant sandwiches. Croissant from Wegman's, turkey bacon, Vermont cheddar, and a fried egg. A-yummay! The big event of the weekend, however, is the return of my Aunt Flow. She's back in town for the first time in a year and a half. Since March of 2006, I've only had two visits from her, and now that she's moving back in she decided to do it by way of a surprise visit. Let's just say that last night my mom's living room chair-and-a-half had a noticeably unclean spot, and now it has one spot that is so clean it makes the rest of the chair look dirty. So. There you have it. Nothing like getting your monthly business back in order to make you feel like a teenager all over again.

Rufflebutt on the go & Mr. Chin down for a nap

There has been a teeny, tiny, whisper-thin layer of gums holding Olivia's two top front teeth back for about a week, until this morning when they finally cut through. Hello, world! And then there were four...

Along with new teef comes the crawling. Go, Chibby, go!




When Nico goes in for his afternoon nap, sometimes he's not quite ready to lie down. On these occasions, I tell him he can play with his cars in bed for a few minutes but then I will be back to tuck him in. Half the time he has already fallen asleep before I return, and every now and again he gets out of bed with his blanket and tucks himself in on the floor. It's really only a problem when he chooses the spot right in front of the door. For added cuteness, he has three different words for 'pacifier'. Binky, dinty, and chupón (which is Spanish for 'pacifier', and which he pronounces 'shoo-shóne'). Sweet dreams, buddy. See you at 4:00 for din din.

Stop it! stop it! stop it!

Nothing is more annoying than the English dubs they put over the commentary on one of the soccer channels that should be broadcast primarily en Español. We pay extra for the "latino" soccer channels for a reason. If you're going to do an English voice over, at least mute the Spanish announcers you keep playing at half volume in the background. Especially when you cut to the two guys sitting at the sports desk. I'm seeing Spanish and I'm hearing English and I'm going bananas.

If I wanted to hear a guy with an accent call the game, I have a hubby who would do it for free.

Homemade beauty

Last night was Beauty Parlor Night here in the living room. Mom and I did rose-scented hot wax hand treatments (or as we like to call them, rose flavored hand facials), followed by a round of fabulous manicures. Mom went with a deep burgundy color, while I chose a blue-black shade called Midnight Magic. This afternoon in the car, Hubby said the color is "evil" and coming from him, I will take that as a compliment.

Chill day

Since it's raining outside -- chilly rain at that -- we're having a stay indoors, listen to "Free to Be You and Me" fifty times, take long naps, watch "Ratatouille" and "Rushmore", eat a little ice cream after lunch, and let the dogs sit on the sofa and keep my feet warm kind of day. I took Nico out on the patio for a few minutes and we caught some rain drops. Once we both started shivering, I carried him inside.

I have no plans to run in the rain this evening. Cold weather, I can handle. Being cold and soaking wet is something in which I have absolutely no interest. The schedule is as follows: perform the usual night time rituals, pour a glass of wine, paint my very short fingernails with the darkest color polish I can find in the bathroom closet, watch t.v. until it dries, pour more wine, and work on some knitting. For now, I had better get back to my busy afternoon and figure out what to do with the chicken I took out of the freezer this morning.

What can I say? Running opens the flood gates.

Yes, that's me. The one running down the street, sweatshirt cuff wrapped around her index finger, sticking that finger up her nose to sop up the snot. You can't see the headphones tucked into my ears because I have my hood up, but rest assured I'm listening to some angry music. So go ahead, make your comments. I can't hear you and I don't care. We both know I'm just too cute anyway. Even when I'm pretending to be Mo Cuishle.

I... ah-like... ah-dogs.

"The biggest dog has been a pup." -- Joaquin Miller, US Poet

My mission of the week is to look at things from a new perspective. Whether I put myself in the shoes (or footie pajamas) of my kids, or imagine how the dog must feel when he's getting shooed out of the room for the fortieth time, or reach outside my own head to see things in a new light, I'm making the effort to open my mind a little more.

Along with this "new look at life" comes a renewed effort to be more gentle. Tonight Reggie got up on the sofa and laid down next to me. Right now, he's resting his head on the corner of my laptop, and my right hand is resting on his floppy hound dog ear. I'm not kicking him off the couch or worrying about the dog hair on my new jeans. In short, I'm not being an old lady about it.

Mom got to put the kids to bed tonight. While I was out at dinner, I missed the babies so much that I was sad not to be the one whirling through the night time routines. I think the nice part about being the mommy (or the daddy or the grandmom) is that you get to see your kids discover everything, but you also get to have the simple grown-up moments that make your own old-ass life feel new again.

Forget the math and just think about the sentiment

Hubby, who was here all last week working from home, went back to Manhattan this morning. I was just thinking about this one Winnie the Pooh line that reminds me of him. Since I'm in a cutesy mood today, I'll share. It goes something like this:

"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so that I never have to live without you."

That's right, I'm quoting a bear. Because I'm just that sappy.

Koo koo kachoo

My sister's birthday party last night was such a great time. Lots of friends and family, and lots of laughter. And maybe a little drinkin', too.

Here's my favorite line from the night, spoken by my cousin Jennifer. A bunch of us were hanging out on the back patio, chatting and joking around. Among us were my sister and her husband. He's about 12 years younger than she. I don't remember what was said right before this, but Jennifer, laughing, said, "Happy birthday, Mrs. Robinson." Everyone was cracking up, and my sister replied, "Well, I wasn't sleeping with him when he was four." And I don't remember what happened after that, but the whole thing was pretty damn hysterical.

Later in the night, my sister, the birthday girl, leaned against the stove and accidentally lit one of the burners. Fits of laughter ensued as we tried to figure out just how she lit the stove with her ass. Once she caught her breath, she said, "Wait til you see what I can do with my boobs!" I'm telling you, World's Best Sister.

I have NO idea.

What is this line from?

"Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly beans, boom!"

It's stuck in my head and I'm going bonkers trying to figure out where it came from. And I'm not even sure if I'm saying it right. So... help.

Nice weather, eh?

Yes, the weather is lovely. There's something slightly naughty about wearing short sleeves in November. With no jacket. *oh!*

With Frank working from home, I was able to leave him with Nico so that the baby and I could whiz through the megamart for our party shopping trip. I'll have to ask my sister what time she'll be here tomorrow so that she doesn't have to sit and watch me decorate. I vow to be prepared. So far, so good.

The past few days have been pleasant, both weather-wise and in general, a couple of irritating moments aside (about which I am fighting back a huge bitching). I'm not having any party planning stress. The kids have been very active, but little things that used to irritate me with them just don't seem to matter anymore. Life is too short to worry about stupid crap. Okay now I'm going to get back to wearing my short sleeves and piling stuff into closets to make room for our party guests.

I'll be right back, I have to run to the bathroom real quick.

Guess what. Guess whose computer I'm using to write this entry. MINE! That's right. Wireless is back, baby. I'm so excited I just might have to go stand in the bathtub so I can pee my pants over it.

Oh, happy day!

This morning I was driving to Wegman's for some long overdue food shopping with the kids. Dare I say, I felt hopeful about the future of this nation. Still buzzing with excitement, and overjoyed about Obama's victory, I felt my eyes well up with tears as I thought about how good it is to be proud of my country. It's something I have never really felt this deeply before. Finally, someone new and positive. It feels like the U.S. has once again begun to breate, and everything will change for the better. Lofty expectations to place on one man's shoulders, but really it's on all of us to hold together as one and move it all forward. Congratulations, Obama. 44 is a beautiful number. It suits you well.

Go forth and vote!

Happy Election Day to all. Please go out and vote. I'd be lying if I said I don't care who you vote for, as long as you are out there pushing your buttons or pulling your levers... I do care who wins. My personal choice on this Election Day is Obama, and I hope you vote for him, too. If not, we can still be friends, just don't mention the other guy's name and we'll continue to get along just fine.

A special Election Day note to my mom, who never reveals the name(s) of her candidate(s) of choice -- today is the day to add at least one more name to that special list you're keeping for me in a safe deposit box somewhere on a mountain top. All other readers, please join me in lovingly mocking my mother by repeating after me in an innocently superior-sounding voice while batting your eyelashes... "That's why they call it a secret ballot." Mom, I don't feel the least bit guilty about teasing you, because you know you always get the last laugh on Election Day. Curses!

Listin' it up

My moms group is doing a thing called Secret Sister. It's a Secret Santa type thing, but in an everyday kind of way. One of the cute things I got from my SS is a To Do List, which I so badly need this week so I can check off my progress on my real life sister's upcoming birthday bash. And when I say bash, I mean a gathering of many of the most fabulous people we know. Some family, some friends, and lots of love for the world's best sister.

Tonight there's one thing I'm adding to my list unexpectedly. Pick up Frank from the Greyhound station. Since tomorrow is election day, he wants to come home from New York to vote. Even though he knows Jerz will undoubtedly go to Obama, he wants to make his voice heard and push the little buttons in the booth. Just 'cause it's fun. No, really, I think it's mostly because he misses us. It's going to cost us an extra $50 if he can't swing working from home Tuesday through Friday, but I miss him, too, so I don't mind one bit. When he was commuting, at least we got to see one another every night and sleep in the same bed. And he got to see the kids for a little while, either at night or in the morining when we dropped him off at the bus. Honestly it didn't really hit me until yesterday when we were over Fay and David's house, and David commented on how it must be pretty lonely for me and Frank to live apart most of the week. I think it's lonely not just for me and Frank, but for the kids as well. It leaves a big empty spot in their lives when he's not here. All I can think of is that it'll be worth it when we buy another house. And it's not your traditional set-up, but it's only temporary.

The other day when I was writing about myself and Jen, it set me on the path to finding the positive in every situation. Sure, I miss my hubby. But we've talked for years about moving north, and doing it without having to sell the condo, and him possibly staying with friends during the transition. It took some time, and most of that time it felt like we were talking a lot of shit. Become landlords... sure! Buy another house without selling our beloved first home... right! Well, fast forward four years and *poof* we're on our way. Was it simple? Easy? Always a hell of a great time? No. Am I sad about doing what I have to do to get where I want to go? No. It's all worth doing, so I should do it well and make the best of it. *sigh*

Raaaawrrr!

Here are some photos from yesterday at Jen's par-tay. We had a great time trick or treating. Jen made perhaps the most delicious chili meal ever (with toppings aplenty, cornbread, salads and desserts), and after dinner the kids ran around the house working off their sugar high. If I'm not mistaken, they were playing a game called "Halloween Dogpile" which involved running from one side of the house to the other, screaming and shouting, and eventually meeting up in a crash-and-fall manner. This was followed up each time with a two minute heap of flailing arms and legs, laughter, and more shouting. It was the cutest thing, and the giggles were absolutely infectious.

Please to enjoy a small sampling of photos from this super fun day...


Our little familia, ready to make the candy rounds. Livi says, "Thanks for the costume, Aunt Jen!"


This is Nico saying, "Oooh Smarties, how I love you so... num-num-num-num."


This picture of Jen and me is one of my favorites from the whole day. When Frank saw it, he said it was funny how we don't look like kids anymore. It made me think of when Jen and I were in high school and college, and how we used to talk about how much fun it would be when we got older and had families of our own. How we wanted to be able to stay home with our kids, and how we would spend holidays together watching all the babies run around and play. It's the most wonderful thing to look around and see how our dreams have come true. Not to be cheesy, but the simple things in life really are the best.