Things that make me feel good

• When people comment on my blog -I write just for me, in theory, but it's more rewarding when you know that people are actually reading it!
• When people compliment my cooking -I suppose you could take the hastily cleaned plates as a compliment, but it's better when they say it out loud. (It also helps if you don't feed them for awhile!)
• When the husband does that little eyebrow raise when I step out of the shower -I'm carrying at least 50 more pounds than the girl he married, but it's encouraging that he still takes the time to go through the motions! ♥
• When the kids argue over who gets to be on my team for games -To be fair, I almost always win. But only games of skill (like trivia or strategy) because the cards and dice hate me in a way that defies statistics. (I minored in statistics, just to be sure...)
• When I'm playing with the Angel's Nintendo DS, and Barbie compliments my clothing designs -My rational mind knows that it is a canned response, but I can't help that warm feeling when she tells me how talented I am! ☺
• When the Peanut gets that huge grin when he sees me -He looks at me like I've just returned from abroad, even though I was just in the other room. There is nothing like the love a nursing baby boy feels for his mother! (The keeper of the milk!)

Which reminds me, have you complimented someone today? Smiled at a stranger? Hugged your loved ones? Believe me, all those little things make a big difference to someone else!

T'was two weeks before Christmas,

And she hesitates to grouse,

But not a creature was stirring

To help Mom clean the house.

The stockings were hung,

But just on the wall,

Because in this rented townhouse

There's no fireplace at all.

The tree lights are up,

And the outside lights too,

Mom did it herself,

The assistants were few.

She also did the shopping,

And with every bag through the door,

Daddy's blood pressure

Rose a little bit more.

The wish lists are long,

And a little bit funny,

Cause even the Rockefellers

Don't have that much money!

The gifts are almost wrapped,

They all should be, but

The last one she wrapped

Gave her a paper cut.

She would trade in her children

For some happy, helpful elves,

'Cause all those Christmas cookies

Aren't going to make themselves.

She's pressed the dress clothing

Of course they'll complain,

You'd think wearing a tie

Causes physical pain!

She's ready to quit,

To just walk out the door,

Why does she do it?

Who is this for?

Does anyone notice

The candles and lights?

Does anyone care

About her late nights?

The constant battle

Is taking it's toll

Do they really deserve presents?

Or should they get coal?

A calming deep breath

And red wine in a glass,

Bring back memories of childhood

And Christmases past.

Memories of lights and cookies

And presents and more,

Of Santa and carols

And candy gallor!

Of dinner and singing

And a pretty new dress,

Of every Christmas seeming...

Effortless.

But behind the curtain,

Pulling the strings,

Is every mother (and father)

Hiding in the wings.

And that's why she does it,

She remembered the reason,

She goes a little crazy

Each holiday season.

So the children will be happy,

Their faces alight,

Their memories are filled

With Christmas delight!

And in years to come,

When they feel the holiday wear,

They'll find this in

An archive somewhere.

And see that it's worth it,

It's worth all the time

And the effort involved,

They're doing just fine.

And like every parent before them,

They'll do it up right,

And fall exhausted

Into bed that night.

But, you'll hear us all whisper,

As we turn out the light,

"Merry Christmas to all,

And to all a good night!"

Cloth diapering update

I'm not sure what exactly I was expecting when I decided to give cloth diapering a try. I guess I was thinking that it would be a lot more work than disposable. That the cloth would leak and be smelly to keep around the house. Wrong, wrong and wrong.

I started out using handmade fleece and microfiber diapers, and they worked well, but they were size-specific and the peanut out grew them. I bought a handful of fancy pocket diapers, which I love and use almost everyday now. I have a few BumGenius diapers and a few FuzziBunz diapers. These are called "one-size" because they are adjustable so babies can use them from birth to potty-training...or so they say.

I like that the BumGenius has an adjustable "rise" using snaps, but it was pretty bulky when Peanut was really small. And I don't think they would have worked in that itty-bitty-just-out-of-the-hospital size. These have "hook and loop" closures (Velcro to those of us who don't have to worry about brand names) so they are really easy. They are bright and cute and have nice fluffy microfiber inserts (the absorbent part) that come out for washing. This helps everything get cleaner and cuts down on drying time. My only complaint is that I thought the "hook" tabs could have been bigger for more grab, and be serged around the edge instead of glued, which would make them softer on baby's tummy. Also, when he hangs out in just his diaper, he can pull the tabs off really easily. (When wearing clothes this is not a problem.)

The FuzziBunz are also great. These have adjustable leg and back elastics, so you can cinch the diaper to fit the baby. They also live up to their name because they are super soft! Who wouldn't want cuddly fleece on their most sensitive parts? They are also cute with bright colors and they close using snaps. The inserts come out just like the BumGenius, and they are smaller, so the diaper is trimmer, but might not hold as much. (No biggy, because the Peanut doesn't like sitting in wet diapers so I'm changing him pretty frequently anyway.) The snaps are nice because he can't take the diaper off, but they take a little longer to fasten on a squirmy baby.

I also received a gift of some hand-me-down diapers, which was amazing! (18 Kissaluvs fitted diapers...probably worth $250 new!) A few of the elastics are starting to give out, but the diapers are in pretty good shape. This kind has elastic around the leg and back and fastens with snaps, but they don't have the waterproof layer like the pocket diapers I have, so they need a cover too. They were too big for the Peanut before, (they're for older babies and toddlers) but he is just starting to grow into them, and they work great.

I bought a waterproof bag to hold the soiled diapers, and it's washable so I just toss the bag in with the diapers at wash time. (Really cute from Planet Wise) Basically, I remove wet diaper, replace with dry and drop the wet one in the bag. (No stinky pails of bleach water.) As long as I wash them every second day or so, there is barely a smell. (I once forgot about a bag for a week, and that was pretty overpowering when I opened it, but the ammonia smell came out in the wash.) Poopy diapers add one more step, which is to grab as much poop as I can with a wad of toilet paper and flush it, putting the diaper in the bag with the others. (No need to rinse it or swish it or anything.) Because the inside of the pocket diapers are a soft, polyester material (so the pee goes right through and leaves it feeling dry on baby's skin) they don't stain like cotton might.

Over the past few months I have been using cloth at home and disposables when we are out and about and also at night. Every single messy leak (code for when poop comes squirting up the back or out the legs...or both) has been a disposable diaper. The cloth diapers never leak. (Honestly, how hard would it be to add a little elastic at the waist? Come on, Luvs, get with the times!) A messy leak in the middle of Walmart kind of negates the "convenience" of disposables, so I'm thinking about trying to use cloth more, even when we are out of the house.

To sum up, cloth is:

• easier (an extra load of laundry every other day instead of a trip to the store with an infant)


• cheaper (I have about $150 invested total and I probably won't need anything else until he's in big boy underwear)


• more comfy (fluffy fleece instead of scratchy paper)


• work better (poopy leaks are a pain in the @$$)

Not what I was expecting at all, but it makes me so glad I decided to give it a try!

(The picture above showes a Kissaluv fitted, a Bummi's cover, a green BumGenius, a light blue FuzziBunz with a white microfiber insert, my wet bag from Planet Wise and the Peanut modeling a BumGenius.)

Grandpa Growly

Sadly, the husband's father passed away last week. He had been sick for sometime, and while everyone is glad that his suffering is over, it's still difficult to lose someone you love. Needless to say, we have been rather busy around here. I never really know what to say in these types of situations, so instead of saying something insensitive, I usually try to keep my mouth shut. (A difficult feat, as anyone who knows me in real life can attest!) Suffice it to say, we all loved Grandpa Growly (as he was affectionately known to some) and we will miss him terribly. As for some sort of "words of wisdom"...I got nothing. So I think I'll just sit quietly for awhile...

Take me away...

I never really understood those old Calgon commercials (You know, "Calgon, take me away!") until I had kids. I mean, I like baths as much as the next girl, but those women were making a really big deal about it.

Fast forward a few years. Now, I get it.

Just the simple act of taking a shower is like a mini-vacation. Lock the door, and close my eyes. I'm standing under a beautiful waterfall in Hawaii, the warm sun filtering through the leafy jungle canopy. The sweet, flowery scent of orchids fills my senses...of course, it might just be my shampoo.

Where was I...oh yeah, slathering on the sunscreen, or coconut scented bodywash. The humid Hawaiian air is relaxing me, the gentle sound of the ocean is lulling me...

KNOCK KNOCK!! MO-OM! If he gets to have a yogurt than I want some Goldfish, but Daddy says he doesn't know where they are! And he can't find any pacifiers so the baby is screaming, and I thought you said [the Teen] can't come in my room, cause he's in there now and Daddy said he's not going to deal with it and I want him out! How much longer are you going to be?

Well...it was good while it lasted.

Ode to Coffee

Oh, sweet coffee. Without you, I might never make it through the day. And while some people consider you a drug, I think of you as the breakfast of champions.

I recently had a discussion about the generation gap when it comes to coffee. My baby-boomer parents and their friends drink coffee, as in a mug of coffee from the coffeemaker on the counter. Usually they have it "black", but occasionally you will see people who drink theirs with cream or sugar. (or both!) Simple.

For myself, and the rest of my Gen X friends, we came of coffee-drinking age during the Starbucks/Grunge rock movement. When I say I'm "getting a coffee", what I mean is I'll have a 20 oz. vanilla double latte, heavy on the foam and only heated to 150. Intentionally complicated. (And my typical order is actually quite simple in the land of baristas) We want to carry huge coffees in paper cups, even though they are more than half milk.

But, for the next generation of coffee drinkers, sales may dwindle. It seems to me that most teenagers/young adults these days would rather have a RedBull than a latte. (Or heaven forbid a cup of actual coffee!)

Money being a little tight, and the fact that I no longer hang out on campus next to the coffee cart, I've taken to making my coffee at home. A few Christmases ago I received an espresso machine. It only makes 4oz of espresso at a time, but that is just enough to get me through a morning. The trouble has always been that heavenly syrup they add at the coffee bar. They do sell it in stores, and have purchased it before, but my local grocery doesn't carry it so I have had to improvise:

Autumn's Vanilla Coffee Syrup
* 1 1/2 cups water
* 1 1/2 cups sugar
* 1-2 tsp vanilla extract

In a microwave-safe measuring pitcher, heat the 1 1/2 cups water for 3-4 minutes in microwave, or until boiling. Pour in sugar and stir gently until sugar is completely dissolved. (Syrup should be clear) Allow to cool, approx. half hour or until just warm to the touch. Add the vanilla, stir to mix. (I use real vanilla extract, so my syrup is a light brown color, but if you use imitation vanilla it will remain clear) Store in a container with a tightly sealing lid. (I use an empty 12 oz. water bottle, label removed and marked with a Sharpie so everyone knows what it is.) You can make larger batches, but I find that making in smaller batches keeps the syrup tasting "fresh". You can keep it on the counter or in the fridge. You can also use flavors other than vanilla. I have used candy flavoring, especially easy to find in stores around the holidays. (Just be sure to use a few drops, not a tsp!)

Enjoy your coffee, everyone. I must leave you now...I need a refill!

A Few of Mommy's Favorite Things

A lot of things change when you have your kids as far apart as I did. There have been some great advancements in parenting since the Teen was a baby, and even some big changes from the Angel's time. It may not seem like much, but all these product make child care so much easier. Examples:

• Dye-free infant's Motrin drops- I always wondered why drug companies insisted on adding Red 40 to something that is most likely going to be spit all over the place, and possibly regurgitated onto the carpet. I guess Product Development finally hired a woman...
• Ear thermometers- Because taking baby's temperature rectally is an emotionally scarring experience for everyone involved.
• Baby seats in public bathrooms- I love, love, love places that have these. When mom is out shopping with baby, it is almost impossible for her to go to the bathroom. Have you ever tried to buckle a belt with one hand, while trying to prevent your baby from licking the toilet paper dispenser? These little seats are in the stall, and mom can buckle baby to the seat so she can use both of her hands and the baby isn't on the floor trying to catch Hepatitis or something. And while we're on the subject...
• Family bathrooms- For the Husband, the very thought of taking the Angel out in public, just the two of them, is terrifying. She has only recently reached the age where she can use a public restroom by herself, with nervous daddy freaking people out by standing right outside the door. But even a year or two ago, he didn't want to take her anywhere, mostly because he didn't want to take her into the men's room, which in my imagination is always completely filthy. (Although, I'm not sure ladies rooms are any cleaner.) And I understand. I'm always a little surprised when I see 11 year old boys in the ladies room, but what else is mom supposed to do? Presenting the Family Restroom. Because mothers have sons, and fathers have daughters. And it wouldn't kill dad to change a diaper every once in a while.
• DVD players in the car- I have no idea how anyone traveled with kids before these came along. It sounds like a luxury item, but I think like airbags and seatbelts, it has probably saved lives. (Driving while refereeing backseat squabbles is unsafe. And leaving your kids on the off ramp because you simply can't take it anymore is frowned upon.)
• Spill-proof sippy cups- Great for little kids. I wish I could get the big kids to use them. In fact, we'd probably have fewer wine stains on the couch if everybody used them!
• Attractive diaper bags- Because even babies don't want to carry around something with dorky looking ducks on it! Granted, the Peanut's diaper bag is blue silk with an asian flower pattern, but who's carrying the thing, him or me? (And I don't think we have to spend too much time worrying about Daddy carrying it either. Like that'll happen.)
• Baby Entertainers- Kind of like walkers, but with solid bottoms so they can't go anywhere. And baby videos with classical music and spinning color thingys. Yes, I know I'm probably supposed to wear my baby all day and do nothing but interact with him, but sometimes Mommy has other stuff to do. How did June Cleaver manage to do the ironing and have her hair perfectly coiffed when Wally and the Beave were babies? One word: playpen. So back off.

Check out my new blog!

Hey all! I started another side blog about my crafting projects. I'm hoping this might give me even more of a reason to actually finish a few of the many, many projects I start around here! I'll still update this blog with my usual snarky anecdotes, but craft stuff will go on my new blog, Project Incentive. See you there!

Step-parenting

Dear Sony/Disney studios,

Thank you for continuing to promote the stereotype of the "evil" step-parent. As an evil stepmother myself, I can't tell you how useful your movies have been. As I command my little "minions" to load the dishwasher, I am reminded of your classics, such as Cinderella and Snow White. (Reminded by the "minions" themselves) Never mind the fact that I would command my own daughter to do the same chores. Never mind the fact that the "minion"s mother also commands him to do these same chores. (Actually more often, because my "evil queen" business allows me the time in my day to do the dishes myself, therefore only requiring assistance once a week or so.)

I would also like to thank you for the upcoming movie The Stepfather, because there is no way that will cause problems in blended family households. Sons of divorced/widowed mothers are always rational when it comes to a new man in mom's life, and your movie will no doubt be hilarious to them.

What you may fail to realize is that there are people who genuinely care about the children of their spouse. You may also fail to realize that while divorce is very difficult on parents and children, it can be particularly difficult for the people who marry the parents of that divorce. And guess what? Their job is more difficult. They have the unique opportunity to be responsible for the care of a child they have next to NO say in raising. Mom and Dad want Junior to take piano lessons? Step-mom ends up being the one to actually drive him to and from said lessons. Mom and Dad want Junior to take hunter's safety courses? Step-dad is the one who actually takes him hunting.

And after all the effort and love Step-mom and Step-dad may pour into Junior, he will always only have two parents. Mom and Dad. Not that Step-mom and Step-dad need a "thank you", (they know they'll rarely get one) but they would seriously appreciate being painted as the "villain" less often! Did anyone consider that Cinderella was a little mouthy, and therefore deserved to miss the big dance?

But you guys, major movie studios, don't care about all that. And I understand. Parenting is a thankless job, and step-parenting is even more so. It's not like we didn't know about these kids when we married their mom/dad. We just didn't plan on loving them. And we certainly didn't plan to be pissed off by your portrayal of our role in the family. But we can take it. We've had worse.

Sincerely,

Evil Step-Mother

Come here often?

Sorry all, for staying away. Unfortunately we've had some "stuff" going on in our three-dimensional life which makes blog posting drop a few places on the list of things to do. The least of which is the technical difficulty I'm having with my laptop. I'm not sure what the technical term would be for the problem, but "won't turn on" has been working for me so far. And before you start throwing advice, like "try plugging it in", let me assure you that I have done all the stuff one is supposed to do, and I've spent an inappropriate amount of time on the phone with the guy from tech support. (I think he and I might be legally married in some countries) We (and by "we" I mean the fella who's Indian name I can't spell) think it's a motherboard problem. I'm pretty much writing it off, as it sounds expensive to fix and I didn't pay that much for it to begin with. But I am going to take it somewhere and see if someone far wiser than myself would be able to retrieve any data from the hard drive. (Hamnibijeesh seems to think it might be possible.) So I have been using my older laptop, which is much slower and doesn't have any of the bells and whistles that make things easier to use, like a memory card reader or a current version of Adobe. And it is the family computer, so I have to fight off the husband, teen and angel for my computer time. (Hopefully it will be another year or two before the peanut wants to be added to the schedule) *Sigh*

In addition, my father-in-law has been having some health problems and has been in the hospital for the last few weeks. The husband, who works four 12 hour days during the week plus an hour commute each way, has been spending the lion's share of his time-off at the hospital, which leaves the "holding down the fort" up to me. I don't mind,it's just a lot less free time without a baby on my lap. And holding babies makes typing quite difficult! As I'm not realistically expecting his condition to improve drastically in the near future, my blog posts may become fewer and farther between. Just for now. If praying is your thing, I ask that you do for him, as he has a difficult road ahead. Get well, Grandpa!

So, for my loyal readers, I hope you don't become discouraged when you keep checking and I haven't made a new post. I will check in from time to time when I've got something good to say. But in the meantime, the three dimensional people come first!

Homecoming

It's Homecoming season again! For those of you who might not know, (seriously?) Homecoming is a special event in high school. I was asked what "Homecoming" was for, and the best I could come up with was this: homecoming is usually the third or fourth weekend of the school year, which often corresponds with the first weekend all the college kids choose to come home for a visit. (They only have so many clothes before they have to do laundry.) Therefore, a bunch of "alumni" are in town, and would like to see a football game. Over the years it has become less about the "homecoming" alumni, and more about the current high school students. Or at least, that's what I remember. Let's all take a trip back in time, shall we?

The husband and I live in the same small town where we went to high school. Our high school mascot is a Sheepherder. No, I'm serious. You can't even make that up! (H-E-R-D-E-R-S, Herders are the very best!) The official pic is shown above. (Yes, there was quite a ta-do recently about his "tobacco" use, which provided much fodder for those letter-to-the-editors.) While the husband was not much of a "joiner", I myself was very into the whole high school experience. I was a cheerleader for three years. (I was captain for two of those. It's not as awesome as it sounds.) I was also a varsity volleyball player, an award winning speech & drama geek, and played the flute in the pep/marching band. (Our school was in a parallel universe where it was cooler to be in the band than it was to be a cheerleader. I'm not kidding. There were 200 kids in our school, 9-12, and there were 108 kids in the band and only 5 cheerleaders. Band was cool here, take my word for it.)

The Teen is a freshman this year, and this is his first experience with a "small town" Homecoming. (The Sailor's high school is quite large, and homecoming just isn't as big of a deal there.) Last week I asked him if his class had decided on a parade float for the Homecoming parade. He looked at me like I was crazy. He just couldn't get the Macy's Day Parade out of his head and simply couldn't wrap his head around a home-made, chicken wire/tissue paper parade float, mostly due to the fact that his previous city never had parades like this. I asked him about the dress-up days, like "pajama" day and "toga" day and things like that. I asked him about the marching band's half-time show. (He is a drummer in the marching band.) No clue. This made me think that A) Homecoming is simply not as big of a deal as it was when I was there 14 years ago, or B) the Teen does not pay attention to what is going on around him and this disregard for his surroundings means I should spend a little more time teaching him how NOT to get hit by a bus. (My money is on option B.) But, I think he is finally figuring out the "happenings" this week.

First, he informed me that he could wear his pajamas to school Monday morning. (I had told him this was usually the case, but of course I have no idea what I'm talking about.) And the other "dress-up" days were Safari, Twins, Royalty, and Blue and White. Game day is always Blue and White, the school colors. But Safari day? What is that? And Royalty? I don't get it. Back in my day, (if you are under 17 feel free to roll your eyes and tune me out now...) the days were more like Toga day (obvious), Nerd day, Boy/Girl day (boys dress like girls and vice versa). But Safari? What would that be, exactly?

The band is playing a Michael Jackson song (duh) for the half time show, and the Teen had been chosen to march with the bass drum. This is funny because he is literally half the size of an average 14 year old. (He is quite short) Him marching with a bass drum should be something to see!

A couple things have changed since I was there. For one, they now nominate homecoming kings as well as queens. My senior year, there were only queens and my class nominated a boy to be Homecoming Queen, to demonstrate the reverse sexism. Now they have both. Another change is they have float "themes". When I was there it was anything goes, but now they give the classes a theme to follow. This year's theme is "boardgames", and the 9th graders have chosen Operation as their float idea. I actually think the theme concept is good, and I'm really looking forward to seeing what the other classes do. (Some people might also be curious as to what the other classes are doing for their floats. The Teen is not one of them.)

I'll try to get some pictures and get back to you with the results of the week. In the meantime, Go Herders!

Can you hear me now?

I was always taught that the ears were in charge of the "hearing" a person does. Turns out that is not entirely accurate. I once saw a Rose is Rose comic strip that summed it up quite well. One of the little boys was telling the mother that people actually hear with their eyes. She was correcting him, reminding him that we use our ears to hear. He held her face between his hands, looked her straight in the eye and asked, "Now, don't you hear me better like this?" And she had to agree. And so do I, because that is the only way I can get my kids to hear a word I say! I thought about getting their hearing checked, but these same children can hear ice cream being scooped at a thousand paces, so it must be selective. There is something about the specific pitch of my voice that does not register in their ear drums, so clearly reading lips is the only way I can communicate with them. Well, that and turning off the TV. They hear that message loud and clear!

Television, our oft maligned family member

Yes, I am aware of the research that says that children should not watch television, adults who watch it will get fat, babies who are "exposed" to it will never develop properly, yada, yada, yada. I don't care! We watch it, okay?! There, I said it. My name is Autumn, and I let my kids watch television!

The TV is on constantly in our living room. We have three TV's in the house. Although, that shouldn't really count because the TV in the teen's room isn't connected to the dish, (just DVD's and GameBox400 or whatever) and the TV in the angel's room can only view whatever is on the TV downstairs. Long story. (Our dish programing is for two different rooms, but one night in a fit of rage and super human strength, the husband snapped the primary remote in half with his bare hands, which I found both alarming and a little bit sexy! So now we are using the second remote as the only remote and both TVs show the same channel. Huh, I guess that story wasn't so long after all!)

I even let the baby watch it. I know, I know, bad mom award. All the research says that I should be carrying my baby with me all day, reading to him and showing him flashcards. Luckily I don't have anything else to do, like get the older kids ready for school or make dinner or anything. And forget folding laundry or taking a shower! Those little luxuries will have to wait! So, I plop him down in front of Blues Clues while I unload the dishwasher. So sue me! (Apparently TV can delay the onset of speech. You say that like it's a bad thing! I'm still trying to get the older kids to shut up!) But you know, kids television isn't what it used to be. Cartoons today, especially those found on Nick Jr or Noggin, are all about learning the ABCs and sharing and things like that. They're not like the old school cartoons, where anvils were dropped on heads. (Although, I kind of miss those old cartoons, violent though they may be!)

And I'm not letting them watch just anything! When the kids went back to school it took me two tries to "pry" the TV off of the Disney channel, where it had been for two months straight. And no Cartoon Network!! Those shows are terrible at best. The teen isn't allowed to watch his "grown up" cartoons while the angel is in the room, so he records Family Guy and gets up early to watch it. (It's one of those "pick your battles" things.)

When the kids aren't here, I often put the TV on HGTV or the History Channel and just let it play while I clean or feed the baby or play on the computer. Makes great background noise, and you never know when extensive knowledge of Emperor Nero might come in handy!

See, it's not all bad. I think that watching TV is one of those things that people complain about but do anyway, like co-sleeping, eating fast food, or buying gasoline. There's a ton of research that says we shouldn't do it, but that's not going to stop us. And how did we learn about that research? From TV, of course!

Congratulations! It's a (teenage) boy!

Okay, here's a re-cap of our family situation, for those of you who may not have been following along. The husband has two sons from a previous marriage. The older boy is technically his step-son, (though only a baby when he was married) and is therefore not covered by any sort of custody agreement. And while we will always consider him a member of the family (you divorce wives, not children) he only visits when he wants to, which is becoming less frequent due to the fact that he is 17, has a job and girls to chase and things like that. (We don't take it personally.)

The younger son, however, is a different story. He was supposed to visit every other weekend, every other holiday and two weeks in the summer. Luckily, the husband and his ex-wife parted on good terms and have agreed to throw the "decree" out the window. He was visiting as often (or as sparingly) as he wanted, or as often as was convenient for both sets of parents, as his mother and step-father live approximately an hour away from us. Pretty much boiled down to every other holiday, about 1-2 weekends a month, and most of the summer.

But NOW...he has decided to come live here with us. He has been here most of the summer already, not counting a week or two back with his mom. Before, when he was visiting, he would share the angel's room, as the peanut's stuff was in the smaller room. With this kind of permanence, we moved the peanut's crib to our bedroom (he was sleeping in there anyway) and freed up some space for Brother 2.

I also had the joy of taking him in to register for high school. (he will be in 9th grade starting Monday!) This is the same high school I attended (only 14 years ago!), and many of the same teachers are still there!

This is going to be quite the change for all of us, and I'm sure it will give me plenty of blog fodder. So, I am re-naming Brother 1 and 2, in honor of this change. From now on, Brother 1 (the 17 year old) will be known as the Sailor, because he has decided to join the Navy after he graduates this May. And Brother 2 will be know as the Teen. (Let the eye rolling and angst begin!)

So, to sum up, we now have two adults, one infrequent sailor, one 9th grader, one 2nd grader and one 5 month old living in a 3 bedroom townhouse. Sounds crazy? Try living it! (insert maniacal laughter here)

I'd also like to wish the Teen a very happy 14th birthday! (tomorrow) His gift, a new cell phone. (His old one had a run-in with some water...not good.)

And I'd also like to ask all of you to wish me luck with parenting a teenager. I still feel like one myself...minus the ability to text 70 words a minute.

The Death of Emily Post

Manners are one of those things that people acquire, whether through training ("What do say?" "Please?") or through maturity. ("Kids today are so disrespectful!") But all it takes is one trip to the movie theater to realize that manners may be on the way out. It's too bad, because being polite is a very attractive trait, one that is often undervalued. People may not notice when you are being polite, but they sure notice when you are not! So, humor me while I give a rundown of my own personal pet peeves and maybe a gentle reminder for all things manners related!

My Personal Pet Peeves

• Don't forget to say "thank you"--I am in the habit of thanking people for pretty much anything. I once thanked a police officer for writing me a speeding ticket. (Although, that may be going too far) I thank waitresses, UPS guys, tele-marketers, my kids...pretty much a good habit to get into. (Note to all people who work customer service: You should be thanking ME! I'm doing you a favor by using your business...so when I thank you for whatever service you have provided, you should thank me for my patronage.)
• "Excuse me" is not just for burping--If you bump into me in a crowd, say it. If you walk between me and whatever it is I'm looking at in the store aisle, say it. If you need to interrupt my conversation, if you need to divert your attention away from me while I'm speaking, if you didn't hear what I said, say it.
• Don't crowd me--Granted, I may have a larger "personal space bubble" than most people, but I really don't like people to stand too close too me. This is my dance space, that is yours. Especially while I'm trying to enter my debit pin into the machine. Courtesy dictates you should look away...that means you, grandpa! Take a step back.
• Don't drive with your parking lights on--okay, it's not really a "manners" thing, but it drives me crazy anyway. If it's dark enough for lights, it's dark enough for headlights. Parking lights are used when a car is parked. (As indicated by the name.) You can't drive a parked car, so don't drive with your parking lights on. Okay, somebody help me off this soapbox...
• Put your damned phone away!!--Are you honestly so popular that you can't even go for two hours without checking your messages? And the glow from your phone in a darkened theater is like a giant spot-light shining on your Stupid Sign. Turn off your phone in theaters, churches, lectures, etc. And don't carry on a loud conversation in crowded hallways and elevators. No one else wants to hear about how much you hate your brother's girlfriend. (It just makes you seem catty) Pay attention to what is going on. Look both ways when crossing the street and be ready to order when you get to the front of the line. You should be paying attention to the real life people in front of you. It drives me crazy to see a group of teenage girls sitting together and each completely engrossed in a conversation with somebody "better" via text. If you absolutely must answer your phone or text while talking to me, please see the "excuse me" section.
• I think the word you were looking for is "are"--I am not a teenager, therefore I do not recognize the words "r", "u", or "2". It's okay in a casual text or facebook comment, but if you want me to understand you in an email, please use actual words. DOAMBIDUADWTL. (Don't Over Acronym Me Because I Don't Understand And Don't Want To Learn.)
• Super negative blog posts--I really hate it when people do nothing but bitch on their blogs! Oh, wait...

Vacation Part III

Hey, everybody, sorry to leave you hanging. But you know how summer goes. So where was I? Oh, right, driving through South Dakota...

South Dakota is the largest state in these United States. Okay, not really. I don't think it even makes the top ten. But it certainly feels big when you are driving all the way across it! South Dakota is a well known tourist destination in it's own right. The Black Hills are truly beautiful and the area around Mount Rushmore has a bunch of kitchy, touristy spots that are really fun to visit.

And then there's the rest of the state. The 90% of SD that is not the Black Hills is mostly farmland and tourist traps. And the farther east you get, the more ridiculous and desperate they get. "Last chance to see the biggest teepee ever made out of drinking straws!"

Here is a giant stretched car on top of a billboard. (Which, by the way, is one of 7 million billboards that blemish the lovely farmland through which I-90 travels.) I think this is advertising a car museum, which I think the husband would have enjoyed if we weren't so tired and weren't in such a rush to get home.I really have no idea what this was all about. Clearly it's a T-rex skeleton, and it's human owner, out for an evening stroll. Totally normal right? Except that this was just outside of the (in)famous 1880 Town, which is a replica of an 1880 town. (Thus the clever name.) I think the lesson here is that back in 1880, human and dinosaur skeletons were able to exist peacefully together. We can all learn a little something from history.

After a LOOOONNNG day in the car, we decided to stop in the Rapid City area and stay the night. We saw multiple RV parks in the Black Hills on our way, and we hoped that there might be a vacancy in one of them. It was still several weeks until the famous Bike Rally, so we hoped that pulling in to town at 9pm wouldn't have us camping in the Walmart parking lot. (We drove past Sturgis, which it turns out is just a normal, suburban town for 50 weeks of the year.)

We pulled into a really cute RV park, which was across the street from Reptile Gardens. (We didn't go...the husband and I have been before and the angel wasn't interested in a zoo dedicated to snakes and spiders. *shudder*) After relaxing for awhile, we decided to stay an extra day in the Black Hills to rest before another 8 hour day in the car.

We had taken the husband's older boys on a trip there back in 1998, but the angel had never been. So we went to Mount Rushmore, which is pretty cool the first time, but if you have been there 7 or 8 times (like I have) you start to see the hype. The angel took one look and said, "Neat," and then asked where we would be eating lunch. But first we made the kids pose for pictures...it just felt like the right thing to do.

We stopped in Keystone, the ultimate of ultimate tourist trap towns, and rode the Alpine slide. (Which was actually kind of fun!) And I drug the husband through the Presidential Wax Museum. This was actually really cool, and he even admitted afterward that it was fun and educational. Even the angel was enjoying herself, and they give you little remote control things that narrate the tour, so she was learning a lot about our past presidents.

We followed up by visiting the Prairie Berry winery, where Mommy had a great time sampling wine and Daddy got to entertain the kids. I bought some Red Ass Rhubarb wine, which is a little sweet for my taste but I plan to save it for a special occasion.

And after all that, the ride home was pretty uneventful. As exciting as vacationing is, as fun as it is to travel and see new things, it always feels good to come home. And, a month later, I'm STILL trying to get caught up on laundry.

Vacation...Part II

Okay, so we're relaxing by the lake in southern Minnesota. Lot's of visiting and rides on the pontoon. The husband even managed to squeeze in a couple naps. (Every day. I've decided to take lessons from him in acquiring some "alone" time. You just disappear, and by the time anyone notices you aren't around, you've managed a decent nap. Of course, that doesn't work as well when your son depends solely on you for his sustenance, but the idea is a good one!)

My husband is not an urbanite. Large cities make his blood pressure rise to dangerous levels. I, however, enjoy what cities have to offer in the way of entertainment. My angel had never been to a zoo before, so I planned a day trip to the Minneapolis/St.Paul area, where my sister lives. The husband, after having seen my sister and my nephew only the day before on the lake, elected to stay behind and catch up on his drinking and napping. (After all, what's vacation for?) Our plan was to visit the Como park zoo and later stop at the Mall of America.

Como zoo is a rather small zoo, but they do have a lot of really neat animals, from silver back gorillas to lions and tigers to zebras and giraffes. Overall, pretty darn cool. And by "cool" I mean ridiculously hot. As we whisked our strollers through the crowds (more like plowed, but whatever) the children began to melt. And finally one little two year old boy (my nephew) had a complete meltdown. (Something about his sippy cup rolling away...and a skinned knee...I'm not sure, my toddler-ese is a little rusty)

Luckily, the mall is air conditioned. This was not our first time to this particular monument to consumerism. (Technically it was the peanut's first time but all he really saw was the inside of his eyelids most of the time.) But the main reason we were stopping there was to see the new American Girl store.

(Side-bar--American Girl is a brand of doll with an almost limitless marketing budget. As soon as a baby girl is born she will receive no fewer than two catalogs a month until she is old enough to realize that the cute little dolls are actually for sale, and then she will receive three catalogs a month. The "historical" dolls cost around $100 each, which is less than I paid for my microwave, and they don't even do dishes or anything! Trust me, if you have a daughter, you will eventually have the "can I have an American Girl doll?" conversation.)

My angel had been lobbying for an American Girl doll for at least two years now. We managed to put her off temporarily by requesting that Santa bring her an off-brand doll for one third the price. Sadly, some of her school "friends" informed her that hers wasn't "real", so she stepped up the begging for a "real" one. Now, my angel is quite girly, and I had no doubt that she would get a lot of enjoyment from the doll. She is also very gentle with her things, so I knew she would take good care of it. The problem is, I don't want her to think she can just have everything she asks for, and especially want her to know exactly how much $100 is! So I told her that she would have to earn the money to buy the doll by doing extra chores around the house. We printed up some American Girl "dollars", and I would give them to her for chores. The beauty of this idea is that the "dollars" couldn't be spent on anything else, and were therefore useless to other denizens of her room who may "mistakenly" think they belonged to him. (You know who you are.) Plus, who has cash laying around to give? (If only she took Visa...) But at least it was something tangible for each chore completed, and it also helped her with her counting and goal-setting.

Problem is, what kind of chores can a tiny seven-year-old complete on her own without constant supervision? I also didn't want her to think that she should be paid for every little thing she does around the house. Some chores you do simply because you are a member of this family. For example, doing the dishes is not a paying chore, especially because I have to stand there and help her and it's actually more work than if I would have just done it myself, but it's the principle of the thing, you know? She also has to fold and put away her own laundry. (A few more inches of height and she can wash it too!) But I'll pay her to fold the baby's laundry. Luckily his laundry is 10% sleepers and 90% blankets and burp rags, so it's not too tough. Another good chore for a 7 year old is to hand her a tube of Clorox wipes and have her wipe down all the door knobs, hand rails and light switches in the house. You'd be surprised how nasty those things get!

After six months, and cashing in some birthday bucks, she finally had enough, so rather than order it online we wanted to go to the store to buy the doll. She chose to buy Elizabeth, who is from colonial times, but I think she was chosen because she is blonde with blue eyes and pierced ears. (Priorities!) I think that my angel considers herself lucky to be able to purchase such a special doll, and she has (so far) treated the doll as such.

In addition to that, we got to see some Nick Jr. characters, like Dora and Kai-Lan. My little nephew wanted to have his picture taken with Dora...until he got up close! Poor guy freaked out! (I would think that a 5 foot Dora would be a little disconcerting!)

All in all, I think we had a great day in the "big city". And the husband? He got to ride a Waverunner all afternoon. Perfect day, all the way around!

Oh, but that's not all! Tune in for the return trip!

Vacation...Part I

Hey everybody, sorry about being "missing" for so long. But you know, it's summer. And on that note, our family recently went on vacation. And by "vacation" I mean a trip where I, the woman, must launder, pack and carry all the items we bring and my darling husband, the man, will drive. Okay, he did check the oil in our vehicle. Husband-2...Wife-467.

So as our "vacation" neared, the husband was working. And, honestly, he works 12 hour days, and with the commute it's more like 14, so I wasn't expecting much help. But we were visiting my family in southern Minnesota, and we were borrowing (renting) a small RV from some friends, so in addition to our usual travel packing, we had to add all of the lake items, like floaty-ies and life jackets, as well as all the camping items like folding chairs and picnic tables.

The husband got off work (off the bus) at 7:30pm. He went to bed so he could get a couple hours of sleep before we left at 2:00ish. We actually left around 4:00am. (Anyone who knows me personally won't be surprised by the delay. But most people that know us might be surprised to know that the reason for the delay is almost never me personally, no matter what the husband might say! He is often late, even though the responsibility for "ready-ing" all of the children falls completely in my lap. And still he will ask, "Why aren't you ready" even though we have been ready for so long that, while waiting for him, I have had to remove the baby from his carseat and feed him... AGAIN!) Now, if you ask around, some people will tell you that I am difficult to travel with. I tend to have a small bladder and a sleepy disposition. This does not an excellent co-pilot make! But I think I may have gotten a bad rep here. First of all, everytime someone asks me to "take over" the driving, it's always at 3:00 in the morning, so of course I'm tired and can't drive for long! No one ever asks me to take over the driving at 10 in the morning! A donut and a RedBull and I'm ready to go! Plus, I've learned through years of traveling that if you sleep, the trip is much shorter!!

I'd also like to mention that my bladder was not actually a factor here. We were traveling with two adults, a 7 year old, a 3 month old and a 2000 Dodge Durango towing a small travel trailer. Luckily, the Durango's gas tank, the baby's stomach and the husband's bladder were all about the same size, meaning we had to stop every two hours or so for one or the other. Still, we took what should be a 14 hour drive and turned it into a 21 hour drive! Luckily my relatives were waiting up for us! (Until 2:00 in the morning!)

But, it was 4th of July, and the lake my aunt lives on has a fabulous boat parade for the holiday, and many people had purchased fireworks out of state to light off! (Illegal in MN, so I won't mention names!!) We got to see multiple relatives I hadn't seen in years, and we got to see how their kids had grown! We had a blast playing on the lake, and I want to send a great big thank you to my aunt and uncle for hosting our party!

But that's only part of the story...tune in soon for more!

Baby Fat

Everyone knows that women gain weight when they have a baby. Children have a drastic effect on mother's physique, and in so many ways! In a perfect world, nursing a baby would cost enough calories for mommy to lose that extra "baby weight". But there are many other variables to consider.

First, if mommy lived near a taco stand or if there was a Dairy Queen near her doctor's office, there might be more weight to lose. Also, screaming babies have a way of convincing you that you deserve a glass (or two) of wine in the evening. And if you have older children and a baby, your commitment to "healthy" family dinners is relaxed. Even if you were previously serving your darlings grilled chicken on a bed of fresh spinach, these days you're slicing hotdogs into a can of Spagettios on the days you don't order pizza. And if they don't finish all of their EasyMac or chicken nuggets, mommy will often step up to ensure that it doesn't go to waste! Don't forget the vegetable stand-off. Of course they like corn...it's not really a vegetable. (Look it up, it's actually a grain.) But if you offer them broccoli they will accuse you of trying to poison them. And the more kids you have, the more expensive it is to feed them. Every child I've ever met can hoover prime rib or crab legs, but wouldn't touch a meatloaf with a ten foot pole. And so, the "mommy weight" is inevitable.

In the plus side, chasing toddlers can be rather exhausting! And I don't know of many mothers with children under 10 who are able to actually finish a meal without needing to tend to someone else's needs. They also find themselves "sharing" their soda or ice cream cone. But who has time to workout when you are just trying to make it through the day without tearing your hair out? The experts say, if you want to lose weight you need at least 8 hours of sleep a night. And you can get it...after your kids are in college!

The consolation here is that all mommies are in the same boat as I am. (Except those few, you know who they are, that are back to running marathons a few days after giving birth. We must expose these women for what they are...freaks of nature.) One author wrote that pregnancy is actually 18 months...nine months on the inside and nine on the outside! SO technically, I'm still "pregnant" and my little parasite is the reason for the increase in the number on the tag of my jeans. Well...that and the taco stand.

Golf

It's a sport, kind of. It's a social event, in a way. It's a drinking game, for some of us. Yes, it's golf.

I started playing golf in 2005, I think. I signed up to take a couple lessons with a few of my friends, mostly for a fun thing to do together. I borrowed some clubs from my husband's brother's wife's sister's ex-husband. (I love small towns!) I should premise by saying that I was a girl jock, and I tend to have what is know as "beginner's luck" with sports. I do really great my first time out and then...I never get any better than that. So my golf game is probably about the same as it was at my first lesson. First of all, I played a lot of softball, and a golf swing is totally different, yet similar enough to confuse the old muscle memory. And second, I don't want to get better. I'm not going to work on my short game or practice my swing, so why get worked up over my lack of skill?

I golf once a week, on Wednesday nights, in a ladies league. This is perfect for me, for several reasons. It's evening, so my mom can watch the kids for me. Some of the ladies that golf are really good, and I think that I've actually improved just by watching them and listening to the pointers they offer. And most of the ladies are there to have a good time first and if some golfing gets done, well, that's a bonus! It gives me a chance to hang out with "the girls" and we only have to talk about kids if we want to. (Bragging or bitching...both tend to come up!)

It's also a great networking opportunity, and not just ladies league. If my future boss asks me if I'd like to join them for a round of golf, not only do I have my own clubs (what's-his-name needed his back) but I have enough skill to not embarrass myself completely.

Plus, it's pretty. Cute little pink balls, kacky capris and polos, and the famous sun visor. It's classy. And while I usually avoid nature if I can help it, I love the groomed grass of a golf course, dotted with sparkling ponds and streams and scattered with patches of white sand, perfectly smooth all the time. (It's the rules) I also love the courtesy of it all. You are more skilled than I? Of course you may play through so that I am not causing you to wait unduly. I will stand quietly whilst you focus on your swing, and don't worry about where your ball landed...I'll watch it for you. You are a less skilled player? Allow me to offer you a handicap, altering my score so that we may play on equal footing. And never shall I cast a shadow on the line of your putt. Pip, pip, cherrio!

So if you are not already partaking of summer's best sport, I encourage you to try it. But remember folks...it's just a game!

**There is an urban legend that claims the origin of the word "golf" is actually an acronym for Gentlemen Only Ladies Forbidden. This is untrue, and I have taken it upon myself to dispel this terrible stereotype. The word actually comes from the Scottish word "golv" which is a mispronunciation of the Danish word "kolv" meaning "club". So don't let your husband have all the fun!

Baby STUFF

One of the things they never tell you about having a baby, is how much STUFF they come with and just to what extent that stuff will take over your life. I took this picture a few minutes ago to demonstrate exactly how out of control my livingroom has become with baby things. Of course, just to the left of the frame is an old A-frame style baby swing and just barely out of the picture to the right is a fabric bouncy seat. So this snapshot is really just the tip of the iceberg! As a child I really enjoyed the I-Spy books and games, so lets play it now...with my livingroom.

Can you find...

-a package of diapers

-a stapler

-2006's "it" sandals espadrilles jockeying for space with 2009's "it" gladiator sandals

-a large box of breast pads which prevent me from ruining every shirt I own

-5 "dirty" diapers, all wrapped up and no where to go

-a basket of clean laundry that has yet to be folded...oh, who's kidding whom here, will never be folded

-a can of fancy mixed nuts containing only almonds as someone has picked all of the cashews out already.

-a bottle of "mommy's little helper", Mylicon. (You thought I was going to say wine, didn't you? I removed that bottle before I snapped the picture.)

-a drink "koozie" with no drink

-a beach ball with no beach

-a glass of water sitting right NEXT to, but of course not ON, a sandstone coaster

-a basket that is supposed to corral the diapers but is in fact the only place in the room no diapers can be found

-an adorable sleeping baby who makes the whole mess worthwhile

The husbands other new baby

My husband is not a spender. He can squeeze the life out of a nickel better than any two people I know. He also didn't get that "college days" portion of his life, skipping directly from a child to a husband and father. So it really didn't come as a surprise to me that he's having his "mid-life crisis" a little pre-mid-life. Last summer he bought a motorcycle, (although, with the gas prices so high it was actually the "responsible" thing to do!) and this summer he bought a raft.

For some people, the word "raft" brings to mind a few logs strapped together by Ginger and the Professor. Oh, no. This is a river raft with an aluminum oar frame. It's like a whitewater raft, only not really. He spent a lot of time researching these things. It's all he could talk about! (If you polled his co-workers, none of them would know the name of our 2 month old son, but most of them would be able to tell you that the husband just bought a 14 foot raft!) When our neighbor offered to give him an oar frame (retail:$600!) the husband was so excited! He was just like a little kid at Christmas time!

Rafting, or "floating the river" as it is called around here, is a major pastime in our neck of the woods. We live at the confluence of two famous rivers, one for being the longest, free-flowing river in the country (meaning it doesn't have any dams or locks or anything), and the other is famous for being the "river that runs through it" in the movie. I'm told that both rivers are excellent for fly-fishing. Not that we would know. We don't fish. (What if you catch something? Then what do you do with it? The step between casting a line and frying trout in butter is a step that I want to continue to skip!) And it's not like we're whitewater rafting, either. That looks scary. And you might spill your beer.

We've had this raft since April, and the husband has already floated four times. Personally, I like to wait for the temperature to go above 65 degrees before I set foot in a river consisting almost primarily of (just) melted snow. But last weekend, I was finally able to try out "our" latest toy. (And by "our" I mean "his". He swears it's for both of us, but he uses it frequently without me and I have a feeling that if I wanted to use it without him, he would have a serious fit.)

The husband's 13 year old son was visiting us for the weekend, so we went for a "float", the husband, the older boy, the angel and me. (Peanut is too small. It might not be whitewater, but it's still a river, ya know?) I packed sandwiches for a picnic. (This is what had been missing from the other floats, which is why you should always invite women...they often bring food.) The older boy had done this before, in fact, he floated much of the way on an inner tube, awkwardly perched like a cat in a bathtub! (That water is cold!!) The angel had never been on the river before, and her reaction was priceless! Everytime we would hit some rapids, or as she called them, "rabbits", she would shriek and giggle and carry on. Probably more than was really called for, since the "rapids" were about the size of a jet boat wake. She would call out, "Stir, Daddy, stir!" I guess she wasn't quite sure what he was doing with those big "spoons" on the side of the boat, but whatever it was, he should do it faster! We stopped on an island to enjoy our picnic, and both kids scarfed down the smoked turkey with pesto sandwich, proving they are less persnickity when they are genuinely hungry. A couple hours and a bottle of sunscreen later, we were done. Tired, dirty and a little chilled, we returned home to collect the peanut. (A nursing mamma needs her baby after a few hours apart!)

To be fair, we had a great time. It was wonderful to crack jokes and quote movies with the husband, to play word games with the kids, and to watch my step-son try to teach my angel how to skip rocks. Just the four of us, trapped together on a 14 foot raft with nothing to do but talk to each other and snack on Cheez-its. Maybe the raft wasn't such a silly purchase after all!

The Diaper Debate (a little long, bare with me)

So babies need diapers. Back when I was a child, mothers wrapped folded pieces of cloth around baby's bum, used gigantic safty pins with ducks on them to hold it together and covered it with vinyl pants. When soiled, the cloths went into a big bucket of water to soak until wash day. And the smell was awful. Did I miss anything?

Then came the fabulous technology of disposable diapers. These are pieces of paper and plastic wrapped around baby's bum, which are simply thrown away after use. They have evolved to include some sort of mystery substance that turns into little jelly "seeds" when wet. I'm pretty sure this is the absorbent part, but I don't know what it is, until I see it tucked into the folds around baby's thighs because the diaper "over-absorbed", if you know what I mean.

Lately there has been some debate over which of these methods is the best, for the baby and the environment. I have noticed a marked increase in the amount of trash I take out each week, so much that we may have get the larger sized can for our household. (The blue thingys you haul out to the street once a week) Our baby, on average, uses two garbage bags (the tall kitchen drawstring variety) of diapers each week. As he gets bigger he will use fewer diapers, but the diapers will get bigger, so I figure this is what we can expect from him. Now, in our tiny town of 3,000 people, let's assume there are 100 kids in diapers, for the sake of easy math. (That's newborns through 3-4 year olds, and it's a pretty good approximation) That's two hundred bags of diapers each week, or 10,400 bags of human poop going to our landfill each year!(And this is just a tiny rural town. Now imagine a city's diaper load!!) Not to mention the fact that those diapers will take 500 years or so to break down, due to the amount of plastic and "mystery jelly seeds" they contain. And on that note, what are those mystery jelly seeds? Are they going to tell me down the road that they cause cancer? (Like talc baby powder.)

So I decided to look into cloth diapers. I remember my younger siblings wearing them, and one never forgets the smell of the "diaper pail". However, doing a little internet research, today's cloth diapers are totally different. These ain't your mamma's cloth diapers! Sure, they still have regular squares of cloth, but even the pins have gone the way of 8-track tapes. Now they use a thing called a Snappi to hold them together, or you can use a "wrap", where you just lay the diaper in it and it goes on with velcro. Plus, and this is my favorite part, they make what they call AIO's or All In Ones. These diapers have an absorbent inner and a waterproof outer, so they work just like disposables except instead of throwing them away, you wash them. Plus, they come in cute colors and prints. You almost don't want to cover them with pants! And they don't go into the bucket of putrid water, either. They sit in a dry pail until wash day, which surprisingly is less smelly. For my little breastfed baby, smelly isn't really a huge problem. But once he starts eating food, this is something to think about!

The debate claims that washing the diapers is just as bad for the environment as throwing them away, and they have a point. I usually wash clothes in cold water, but diapers need to be washed in hot water. However I usually use about a 1/4 to 1/2 cup of detergent in a load of laundry, but in the diaper load I only use about a tablespoon of liquid detergent. (Seems counter-intuitive, but you don't want too much soap with your diapers. It also makes me wonder if I'm using way too much soap with my clothes, which are far less "dirty" than diapers! Something to think about.) And they use no bleach or other harsh chemicals (except the occasional Oxyclean) and no fabric softener (or dryer sheets). So in reality, a load of diapers costs probably half what a load of regular laundry costs me. And the water from your washing machine goes to the same place as the water from your toilet. And they are prepared to treat human waste at those facilities. The landfill is not. We are supposed to be removing as much poop as we can from disposables too, (it says so on the package!) but hardly anybody does this. Cause, lets face it, it's icky. And if you have to take that extra step and deal with the poop, than the "simplicity" of disposables isn't so simple after all.

Now let's talk money. We go through a little more than a package of diapers (80 count) a week. That's about $10.99 every week. (Not counting wipes, which is debate for another day!) And we use Luvs, a mid-priced diaper because the cheaper "store" brand diapers tend to leak and gave my angel terrible diaper rash. But if you use higher end diapers (Pampers, Huggies) add another two or three bucks. That's $572 a year, times three years (I'm being super optimistic here!) is $1,716. (Or $2,184 if you use Huggies.) I don't know about you all, but a thousand here, a thousand there...pretty soon it starts to add up to real money! If you bought the most expensive cloth diapering system, you'd pay about $600. Total. That's for the BumGenius brand system. And there are many less expensive options.

So, I've decided to give cloth a chance. I have chosen to sew my own diapers, saving even more money! Plus, it's kind of fun. Here are some pictures of a few of my "creations".

These diapers have a fleece outer, and a microfiber soaker inside. (Think ShamWow, only less hokey.) The pattern is a hybrid between Mama Bird and Rita's Rump patterns, both free on the internet. My first try was a disaster, but now I think I've got it figured out! (Lest you think that I am one of those seamstress, stay-at-home moms, let me assure you that I am not! I can barely sew a straight stitch, and I'm using an archaic sewing machine that used to belong to the husbands mother. We rescued it from a storage barn and cleaned it up. It has two speeds, zero and seventy miles per hour.)

We still use disposables too, but hopefully we can cut back by using cloth, and as my "stash" of diapers increases we can use less and less! I'll let you know about some of the trials and tribulations of using cloth as I get more into it. But for now, it's something I want to try, if for no other reason than to say that I gave it a shot!

Oh, Momma!

Yes, Mother's Day is approaching. Have you got something for your mother, yet? I got my mother's day gift last Saturday, when the husband took me shopping for clothes. Without kids. (Does it seem wrong that I wanted to commemorate Mother's Day by pretending I don't have any kids for 5 or 6 hours?) We would have done it on actual Mother's Day, but my mom was taking care of the kids for us, and next weekend she and her girlfriends are road tripping to go to an Eagles concert. (Once your kids are grown you get to act like coeds again. I can't wait!) So we took advantage of the free babysitting last weekend instead.

For those of you keeping score, this was the first time I have left my peanut. (Except once, I left him with his father for twenty minutes to run to the grocery store, and I called home twice to check on them.) It has been awhile since I've had an infant around, and I forgot the "baby time warp". (Those of you who are fans of Paul Reiser, the Mad About You guy, may know that babies warp time in two ways: A. You can shake plastic keys until your arm hurts, play a rousing game of "stick out your tongue", engage in a thousand rounds of peek-a-boo, only to realize a mere 15 minutes have passed, and B. The simple acts of showering, dressing, eating and getting out the door with a baby takes 3.5 hours.) I also had to offer a short clinic on the use of a bottle warmer, and a quick tutorial on how to use the stroller. (The thing has more bells and whistles than my first car.) Then I walked out the door, leaving them in my mother's capable hands. (If she has questions, the angel knows what to do.)

The shopping was both painful and necessary. I decided it was time to get out of my maternity jeans. (I didn't want my friends and family to have to stage an intervention.) But my pre-baby jeans were creating a little more muffin top than I am comfortable with. (By the way, you're not a size 10 if all your fat is squished out the top. Just buy the 14 and get over it!) But I love shopping with the husband! For one thing, he has absolutely no fashion sense, so he never offers anything but a smile and nod when asked direct questions in a clothing store. He also turns into Daddy Warbucks. Can't decide between two pairs of jeans? Get 'em both, baby! (Oddly enough, this is the same man who has a fit when I spend money on a sweater from the clearance rack. Apparently, I've cheated him out of the opportunity to buy me six of them!) So I took advantage of him, and some fabulous sales, and purchased a new, plus-size wardrobe. (This is of course to tide me over until I get back into my "skinny jeans". It could happen!)

But when I was carting my purchases into the house, I realized that almost half of what I had bought that day had been for the kids. New swimsuits for the angel, and some adorable mini swim trunks for the peanut. It's just so much fun to shop for them! And after all, spending my day away from kids buying things for those kids is why they have a Mother's Day in the first place!

And on that note, a heart-felt THANK YOU to my own Mom, without whom I would never be able to leave the house. Thank you for loving my babies as much as I do!

Wait...what?

As my loyal readers (all five of you) can attest, most of my recent posts have been about my kids in some way. Well, after spending 5 weeks of doing almost nothing but childcare, I'm ready to talk about something else. ANYTHING else. So I read a blog earlier today that got me thinking...

The blogger dude (I can't remember the name, or I would quote him) was "talking" about song lyrics, and how people often sing the wrong words by mistake. There is even a technical term for this: mondegreen. It came from some guy hearing "upon the green" as "mondegreen". There are many famous examples, and I have included some of my favorites here:

- Jimi Hendrix
Wrong lyrics: S'cuse me while I kiss this guy
Real lyrics: S'cuse me while I kiss the sky
This one is so famous, and so often misheard, that there is a website, www.kissthisguy.com that has frequently misheard lyrics!

-Creedence Clearwater Revival
Wrong: There's a bathroom on the right
Right: There's a bad moon on the rise
I gotta admit, I can't hear the difference here. If no one had told me, I'd still be singing it wrong.

-Pearl Jam
Wrong: Jeremy's smokin' grass today
Right: Jeremy's spoken yesterday
To be honest, if you understood Eddie Veder, than you've probably been smokin' grass today too.

-Garth Brooks
Wrong: Looooonnnngg, Nick Bottom
Right: Loooonnngg, neck bottle
This one was one of my youngest step-son's gems...that kid cracks me up!

-Iron Butterfly
Wrong: Inna gadda da vida, baby
Right: In the garden of Eden, baby
Okay, to be perfectly truthful here, you weren't singing the wrong lyrics...they were. My extremely reliable sources (a VH1 special) tell me that the songs lyrics were supposed to be "in the garden of Eden" but the dudes were so strung out that no one (even the song producers) could make out what they were singing. It might also explain the 17 minute drum solo.

-Alanis Morrisette
Wrong: This cross-eyed bear that you give to me
Right: This cross I bear that you gave to me
She was so angry, of course she wasn't annunciating! BTW, I highly recommend her Jagged Little Pill album to anyone who has "man trouble". It will either: A. lead you to a place where a jury of your peers will decide whether or not it was justifiable homicide or B. it will put your silly problems into perspective. Totally worth the $13.99!

-Kiss
Wrong: I wanna rock and roll all night, and part of every day!
Right: I wanna rock and roll all night, and party everyday!
Okay, we're really talking semantics here, but one can hardly blame people for only wanting to rock and roll for part of the day. After all, if you party everyday, how are you supposed to rock and roll the next night, hmmm?

So I'm sure there are plenty more, after all the songs "Louie, Louie" and "Bohemian Rhapsody" alone provide us with endless fodder! But I would love to hear what some of your favorite misheard lyrics are.