Author Archives: Cindy

mad poetry skillz

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Cate and I are flying out crazy early tomorrow morning. 7:15 a.m. flight means that I have to get up around 3:30 in the morning, so I can be ready to leave the house by 5. Fun! At times like this, I really wish we lived closer to the airport. That also means that I’m spending most of today getting as much stuff packed as possible so I won’t have a lot to do in the morning. And cleaning, because I hate coming home to a messy house. (You hear that, Dave? You keep it the way I leave it, mister!)

So since I need to go get back to work, here’s a post that I started last week and never finished. Enjoy.

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In honor of the fact that April is National Poetry Month, I present you with my own haiku (haikus? haiki? how do you pluralize that word?), titled “Why I Hate Spring”:

Dave says the cats have
fleas. I’ve only seen one so
far. Yay! More vet bills!

Mosquito bites all
over. One on my toe. The
hell? I had on socks!

Spider in shower.
Are you the kind that bites? Oh
well. So long, Charlotte.

Go spin your web in
the comfort of my septic
tank. “Humble,” indeed.

Wasp in my bedroom.
Fantastic. Clearly I can’t
sleep there anymore.

At least there are no
cockroaches. Still, seems it’s time
to call Terminix.

new look

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I feel it’s time for a little bloggy makeover. Stay tuned…

Edited to add: Ok, it’s a bit boring, but I think I like the simplicity. And I need to go to bed. Maybe I’ll re-think it tomorrow. Any opinions in the meantime are welcome.

einsteining

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When I was about four months’ pregnant, Dave and I hit this big neighborhood-wide garage sale and bought some baby gear. We got a few toys and whatnot. We also picked up a collection of five Baby Einstein DVD’s for $1. I put them on a shelf and quite honestly forgot about them.

A couple of nights ago, Cate was being fussy for no particular reason. She was fed, burped, diapered, etc. We had tried everything that we knew to do. Then I remembered the DVD’s. We figured what the hell, popped in the Baby Mozart DVD, set Cate up in her bouncy seat, and aimed her at the TV.

Now, I know that some people have talked negatively about these DVD’s, and say that they only make babies dumber because the kids just stare at the TV and drool. And I get that. I can see how it would be very easy to overdose a small child on this type of thing, and I agree that too much TV can be bad for kids. Those are all very valid concerns.

But y’all, Cate was enthralled. She smiled, laughed and kicked her little feet for the entire video (about 30 minutes). It was hilarious, it was like she was trying to dance to the music.

And again, this afternoon, she was being a little stinker while I was trying to clean the kitchen, so I turned the DVD on and POOF! We went from Grumpy Baby to Smiley Happy Baby in about five seconds. I was actually able to clean the entire downstairs of our house because she was so into it.

So ok, maybe it’s not the best thing in the world for her development, but I must say that for now, I am totally sold on this product. I think I’m even packing them for my trip to my folks’ house next week, just in case we need an instant mood-fixer.

random wednesday

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I forgot to mention the other weird thing at church on Sunday: the woman sitting behind us made a big fuss over Cate – oh she’s so cute, how old is she, etc. Then she asked if she could hold her. Um, how exactly is one supposed to handle this type of situation? I said, “oh, I’m a little germaphobic, and it’s cold season, so I’d rather you didn’t…” And she seemed fine with that, but I felt so rude saying it. What I meant was: dude, you are a total stranger. Yes, we’re in church, big happy community of Christians, blah-blah-blah, but hell no, you cannot hold my baby. Of course, it turned out that she was one of the people who passed around the offering plate and directed traffic for communion, so I had to make eye contact with her two more times after that. Argh. Awkwardness.

The only other time anything like that has happened was once when I went to this deli place for lunch with my friend Janet. We were standing in line, and the guy in front of us turned around to talk to Cate (who was in the stroller). Then he reached in and grabbed her hand. I resisted the urge to scream, “UNCLEAN!!!” But just barely. My only guess is that these are people who don’t have kids themselves, so maybe they don’t know that this is inappropriate? Or am I a big weirdo for worrying about strangers’ germs?

Of course, it occurs to me that one week from today, Cate and I are going to be on an airplane, and that I just might have to hand her off to a flight attendant if I need to use the bathroom. Because seriously, what else am I supposed to do? So I guess it’s a bit hypocritical on my part – I’m ok with strangers holding my baby when it’s for my own personal convenience. But I also figure that flight attendants probably wash their hands a lot, since they handle people’s food and beverages. I know that if I had that job, I’d be a total Purell addict. (I’d also probably have a drug problem, since I usually need either a cocktail or a Xanax to not freak out when I fly.)

Speaking of the airplane, I am really looking forward to visiting my family next week (and getting to meet a couple of bloggers too! How cool is that?). But I am dreading the flight. The idea of having Cate on my lap for six to seven hours in a tiny cramped airplane seat doesn’t sound like that much fun to me. I’m sure it’s better to do it now than when she’s a toddler and needs constant entertainment, but still. I imagine that she and I are both going to be good and cranky by the time we get to Mississippi.

Total topic change: As for that full-time job that I wrote about last week – I did update my resume and send it off to the recruiter, but I haven’t heard anything about it since then. The more I think about it, though, the more I think that I really don’t want it. I know there are a lot of working moms who love what they do, and I think that’s fantastic. I’m just not sure that I’m one of them. I could see myself getting miserable really quickly if I was doing the whole 40-50 hour work week again. But you know, I’ve never been all that passionate about my career to begin with. It was just something I did to make money, so I could afford the lifestyle I wanted. And sure, I liked it ok, but I’m totally fine without it too.

So I’m now kicking around the idea of some possible freelance writing and work-from-home options, in addition to sticking a few ads on this site. If that works out, I imagine I’ll still need to find some sort of part-time baby-sitter or daycare for Cate, because I don’t know how Dave and I could possibly both be working and taking care of her all the time. But I think that maybe some type of Mother’s Morning Out program, just a couple of days a week, might be sufficient.

Total topic change, part two: Does anyone else watch “The Riches”? Did the dentist in this week’s episode make you really depressed? Because I almost cried for him. I know I’m still a big hormonal mess, but god, that was sad.

baby's first Easter

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Today, Cate and I met up with Kris and went to church for Easter service. This was Cate’s first church experience, and she behaved amazingly well – she didn’t fuss once. She was just generally adorable and happy for the entire hour.

At one point – during the part of the service where everyone greets each other – the old lady sitting next to Kris commented on the fact that I must’ve sedated Cate because she was being so good. Um, thanks? I figured it was an awkward attempt at humor, so I laughed and said that she was only happy because she ate right before the service (which was true). But before I even finished the sentence, she had turned away and was talking to someone else. Ok then, thanks for chatting.

Later, the old lady (seriously, she had to be in her 70’s) asked Kris if she had any gum. Kris did indeed, so she fished it out of her purse and handed it to her. The lady said she needed the gum because she’d had champagne earlier and couldn’t get the taste out of her mouth. Y’all, it was eleven in the morning. Now, I know that a lot of people have mimosas with brunch; I’ve had more than a couple of them myself over the years. But she didn’t say she had a mimosa, she just said champagne. Right on! Happy Easter!

Moments like that remind me that I’m not in the South anymore. If memory serves, I think it’s considered pretty taboo to admit to imbibing any type of spirit while in the House of the Lord. I mean, sure, people do it, but they don’t talk about it. Out loud. To total strangers.

That was the point of the service, by the way, when Kris turned to me and whispered, “Dude, I love Episcopalians!” Hee.

Oh, and here’s proof of just how good a mood Cate was in today.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kIPNF0bBZ0

Please try to just notice the cuteness (and the dress! Look at that little dress!), and ignore how dirty my house is. I swear, I swept the floor three days ago. Damn cats.

money money

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A couple of weird things have come up in the last 24 hours: first, I got an email asking if I’d accept advertising on this site. It’s not something I’ve ever really considered, because I didn’t think that I had enough readers to warrant any advertisers’ interest. But hey, they asked, and I could really use that $2 a year or whatever piddly amount of web traffic I bring in. I wrote the person back, asking exactly what the content of the advertisements would be, because while I’m totally open to the idea of whoring my blog for my own personal financial gain, I don’t want to end up with anything obnoxious and/or offensive here.

Second, I got an email from a recruiter who happened to have an old copy of my resume. The job he’s looking to fill is right up my alley, and the salary and benefits are awesome. It sounds way better than what I was doing before. The only catch is that it’s full-time, which wasn’t what I had in mind. I was really planning on going for something either part-time, or that at least had the option to work from home part-time. So now I’m kicking this idea around, trying to figure out if this is what I want. I don’t like the idea of Cate being in daycare full-time, mostly because I think I’d miss her like crazy. But at the same time, this job opportunity could put us in a place financially where we could move to a new house sooner than our current plan, and while the commute would suck for now, the job is located in the area that I want to move to. So it could turn out to be really good. Or I could do it for a month, hate it, want to quit and feel like an idiot for going through the whole process of interviewing with this company and finding a suitable daycare facility. Argh, dilemmas…

crazies in the boonies

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We had the weirdest night, and I don’t even know how to tell this story in a way that makes any sense, but I shall try:

Last night, I met up with my book club ladies, and Dave and I watched a movie when I got home. So we all got in bed pretty late, around 1 a.m. A few hours later, I woke up to hear someone knocking on our front door. At first, I thought it was the contractor who’s been renovating Dave’s office. Sometimes he gets here around 8 a.m., before we’re up for the day, so that wouldn’t be too shocking. Except, oh yeah, it isn’t Monday morning. Then I looked at the clock: it was 3:50 a.m. The hell?

I went to the top of the stairs – from there, I could see through the window next to our front door. I saw a person’s arm, but that was all. And the person kept knocking, repeatedly. I hustled back to the bedroom and woke up Dave. He went to the door while I hovered at the top of the stairs. It was a woman, she was soaking wet and shivering (it was raining and probably in the 30’s outside), and she asked if she could come in. Dave said no, and asked how he could help her. She said she needed “to call Billy,” and asked again if she could come in. They went back and forth a few times – her asking to come in, Dave politely saying no and trying to figure out what she wanted. She didn’t exactly seem drunk (although Dave said later that he could definitely smell alcohol on her), but she was really confused and disoriented. Finally, Dave caved in and let her inside to use the phone.

I came downstairs, and Dave and I tried to ask her a few questions to figure out exactly what was wrong, and how she ended up at our front door at 4 in the morning. I mean, our house is pretty freakin’ remote. Of all the places to find yourself stranded, why our little part of Duvall? And who exactly is this Billy that she needed to call, and why didn’t she have his number? None of her answers made any sense, she was just totally out of it, and she asked if she could rest on our couch for a while. Um, no, sorry.

She called her mom to get this Billy person’s phone number – meanwhile, I grabbed my cell and headed upstairs to our bathroom to call the police. I know it probably didn’t qualify as an emergency, but you hear stories about the one person who gets inside the house, and then the other people with guns show up, and… yeah. I sort of freaked. From our bathroom, she couldn’t hear me talking to the police dispatcher, and I could also keep an eye on Cate, who was sound asleep in the Pack ‘n’ Play in our bedroom.

(Btw, she’s been sleeping 5-6 hours at a time for the past several nights, which is awesome. Or at least, it’s awesome when there aren’t crazy people in my living room keeping me awake.)

Oh, and apparently Dave had the same thought process as me about how this could be some kind of scam, because I found out later that he snuck into the kitchen and grabbed a box cutter and put it in his pocket, just in case. It made me feel better to know I wasn’t the only one who found the whole thing to be totally suspicious.

Now, I know we live in a small town, but wouldn’t you think that since the weirdos are generally out on the weekends, that it might be a good idea for have more than one police officer on duty? Because it took the cop FORTY-FIVE MINUTES to show up. Meanwhile, Miss Crazy is downstairs making multiple phone calls (because I guess Billy wasn’t answering his phone) and in between, Dave is still politely trying to ask her what the hell is going on.

Finally, the policeman arrived, and he asked her if she had left her car at the bottom of the hill (we live at the top of a big hill). She was like, “oh, you found my car?” I’m honestly not sure if she realized that he was a cop or not. But the cop was very nice and told her that yes, he found her car, and if she’d just come with him, he’d take her to it. She followed him quite happily. And on her way out, she tried to give Dave a hug. He gave her a quick little “Ok then, bye-bye” pat on the shoulder.

That was it. I still have no idea what the hell that was about. And now I’m just wondering if we’re going to end up in our town newspaper’s weekly police blotter article.