Baby's First Cuss Word

Oh, shit.

Experiments in Parenting #312

Action: Give child a piece of bread in response to her pre-dawn indication that she wants to "Eat!", bring her back into parents' bed

Reaction: Preoccupied chewing; momma gets five more minutes of shut-eye and a bed full of crumbs

Action: Attempt to change child's morning diaper

Reaction: Big screaming fit, much writhing and kicking

Action: Attempt to put child's socks on

Reaction: Big screaming fit necessitating that socks first be put on stuffed bear before allowed on child's ice-cold feet

Action: Attempt to dress child in shirt

Reaction: HUGE screaming fit; child becomes hung-up in sleeve; momma "goes to her happy place"

Action: Attempt to dress child in pants

Reaction: Forget it...child's wearing shirt, diaper, and socks. Pants would be overkill.

Hypothesis proven: Um....I don't know. I'd like to wrap this up with something clever, but my head hurts and my ears are still ringing. Olivia has become, if possible, more opinionated this week. Something about the act of dressing has displeased her mightily. Other than that daily torture, we have been having a lot of fun...she's really into dancing and singing and putting her bear to bed. We went on a hayride at the Maize Maze and to a fall festival; we had a houseful of company with all my girls and their babies. We've been really busy and have the pics to prove it. I will be posting them...in a few days, when it's November and I have to come up with a post everyday.

OK, I'm not going to go so far as to say that our new sound machine from Target is a modern-day miracle, but in the five or six nights since we got it, O has slept straight through all but one of those nights. The rain setting seems to be the most soothing; I like rainforest also, but it's a little too chirpy.

I'm wishing that I could run over to Target today and pick up another miracle. It might take one to keep me from having to go back to work full-time. Marc's loans are starting to come due and by the first of the year, we will basically have what amounts to another house payment each month. I don't see how we can swing it without another full-time salary.

I feel like stomping my feet and having a fit. I do not want to go back to work full-time. It's not that I am afraid to work; it's that I already have the job that I want. I love staying home with O. This is where I want to be. I can hardly even bring myself to think about daycare, to think about what our days will be like when we are constantly rushing off to work, rushing home from daycare, hardly seeing each other. I can't stand it.

So, I am wracking my brains. I'm looking for a creative solution and asking everyone I know for ideas. I refuse to admit defeat yet. I'm praying for a miracle.

It has been raining all day and I have been in a bad mood. I repeat: raining all day...bad mood. Mercifully, Olivia had a great time and was a joy despite the fact that we hardly left the house until evening. We built a fort and then took it apart and built it again. We put all the books on the shelf and then took them down and put them back again. We took the blocks out of the bag and then...you get it. The house looks like, well the house looks like it always looks...like we just moved in. The walls were closing in a bit today, but I tried to just enjoy the time and not stress on unpacking or cleaning or catching up on blogs or paying bills. It is looking like I might be going back to work soon-ish. Not anything close to full-time, but enough to make me feel like I really need to enjoy our unfettered hours before additional obligations put themselves on my to-do list. Sometimes I feel like I am not very creative about how we spend our time, but then I think that there is a lot of value just in the sheer amount of time that we do spend together...even if it is just putting blocks in a bag and destroying forts.

Yes, but not my first time playing one.
A nursing assistant looked at Marc today at the hospital and asked, "Is this your first time being a doctor?"

OK, in order to get us out of the doldrums here, I am allowing the pressure to be applied a bit. I am going to try to take part in this challenge.

I can't promise this will be exciting, but there will be words on this page. And maybe pictures and video.

I've been on a bit of a blog hiatus. I don't really know why. There has been so much that I have wanted to write about, so much that I have wanted documented, but the words just haven't been flowing. I witnessed a birth this week and every time I try to write about it, I come up so short. I don't want to do it if I can't do it justice and I can't seem to right now.

For now, I'll just welcome the newest member of the extended clan...my friends, Katy and David have a spankin' new daughter. Her arrival was dramatic. Each time I see her sleeping peacefully in the arms of one of her parents, there seems this total disconnect to the fact that only a few days ago her birth was such a mammoth struggle for both her and her mother.

(One result for me of being present for E.J.'s birth is a renewed interest in the "are we/aren't we" debate sprinkled liberally with some of the "if so, when?" This is a fun game for everyone seeing as how it is chock full of all your big name worries: finances, aging, housing, etc. Good times.)

Moose and I went for a walk tonight, down Alabama Avenue to 45th Street. It was dusk, with house lights coming up and I could see in several houses where people sat, talking, finishing dinners. When we turned the corner headed towards St. Elmo Avenue, I saw in the second story window of the house on the corner a figure, a silhouette of a woman. The window was frosted with lamplight behind it, making it looked as though it was steamed up and I turned away quickly, feeling as though I was seeing something intimate, something accidental that I shouldn't. Immediately all these stories, scenarios appeared in my head and I imagined her packing a bag for a trip, or putting a new baby down to sleep, slamming things around after an argument, or preparing for her first day at a new job. For a few minutes I felt like I was back in Brooklyn, with that constant feeling that anything I could imagine and many things I couldn't were happening just behind each window I passed.

O and I walked to the church courtyard down the street. Everything there is round - a fountain, a labyrinth, a low wall for sitting. I didn't bring the stroller, so I carried her when she was tired. We passed a house with tall windows and a door that opened where a porch used to be. Through the lace at one of the windows came the sound of violin. The name of the church is Thankful.

I'm coming back, I promise. There's just so much to do and so little time to get it done. Unfortunately, blogging keeps getting bumped to the bottom of the list, along with showering and eating something more filling than the banana left on O's tray after her lunch.

But, I'll be back. Don't give up on me.

To all of you who are here because you are looking for information on dogs, welcome....and sorry. There's not a lot here about dogs. I know...the title is misleading. Honest to God, for the longest time, I thought we had made up the whole Tennessee Mountain Cur thing. Who knew that so many of you out there would be looking for information, see our link, and think, "Perfect! I'm sure that this will tell me all I need to know and more about curs from the mountains, the mountains of Tennessee!" Who could blame you for being disappointed? Regardless, stick around. We do have a mountain cur...correction, a Tennessee Mountain Cur. Maybe I should post more about him. Here, here's a story right here. He's losing his fool mind. He spends much too much time lately standing in the middle of the room, looking at the wall and barking earnestly and without cease. Maybe it's the move, maybe it's his hearing or his age. I wish he would knock it off. I guess I should be glad that he doesn't do it all night. But he doesn't. He sleeps. Laid out on his side like the good old mountain cur he is.