The siege continues

am not a yankee
will never be a yankee
so BRING BACK THE SUN

It’s Day Three of the Ice Storm That Won’t Effing Go Away ’07. We have plenty of food and heat and entertainment, but still. You know how beyond the event horizon of a black hole you can’t see any matter or light or anything because it’s past the "abandon all hope ye who enter here" sign and it’s all getting sucked into the black hole no matter what (ba dum bum)? Well, I’m rapidly approaching my very own event horizon. Pretty soon, all toys or dishes I pass will be picked up and thrown into a garbage bag or the garage (a suburban dwellers very own black hole).

We’ve endeavored to clean up our messes and have done a fairly reasonable job. But I haven’t left the house since Saturday, so even tiny little pieces of dust and crumbs are starting to suffocate me.

It looks like the world is starting to melt a little, though, so that’s a very nice sign. And my husband has been here all week, so that’s been nice, too. But we’re ready to get out of the house. All of us. We’ve ventured into the cold and ice a few times to play, but even the wee one is over the excitement of the ice now. Of course, when you have a chance to help mom make banana bread and drop batter all over the floor and then step in the batter by accident, why would ice be any more fun than that?

I was lulled into a false sense of security this morning, while listening to the drips of the melting ice, so I decided to go outside to take a picture. I thought, "Hey, it would be cool to post something icy on the blog." I put on my shoes and coat, grabbed the camera, walked out the front door, and wait for it…. promptly slipped on the ice and fell.

It was one of those falls that goes on forever. First you lose your footing, then you try to right yourself, then you keep falling, then your knees hit the ground, then your knees start sliding and your upper body starts falling and you thrust out your hands, then you realize one of your hands is holding your camera, so you thrust out one hand, then that hand slides, so you put the camera hand down too, and finally, there you are, laying on your driveway, wet and cold, with a couple of banged up knees and a goose-egg on your wrist.

So here’s the damn picture I took:

Img_0812

It’s my neighbor’s house. Her palms are depressed by all the ice. Ba dum bum. Funny enough, it turns out MY palms are depressed by the ice, too. They are red and raw from supporting my flailing body as I King-Kong-crashed on the driveway.

I’m going to go eat banana bread now.

Advertisements

Live-blogging the Golden Globes

I totally don’t have time to do this, but what the hell. We’ll see how far I can get before bath times and bed times and a husband anxious to watch 24 interfere with my sad attempts to be funny.

7:10: I’m late starting this, but one note on the previous ten minutes… Justin Timberlake is funny! Who knew?

7:12: Jeremy Irons looks like hell. Maybe it’s because he’s been stabbed a billion times – that’s what his vest looks like anyway.

7:15: Edie Falco is so bronzed and skinny she has scared me into forgetting about my girl crush on Tina Fey (ignoring Tina Fey’s triangular dress and extra-cleavage, which are both freaking me out). Perhaps Jeremy Irons and Edie Falco were shooting some heroin before the show? Damn.

7:20: I’m pretty sure Kyra Sedgewick ran all the way from her house to the ceremony, or else she and The Bacon were getting it on under the table, cause she is sweat-TAY and way more out of breath than one needs to be when accepting an award. Oh, who am I to talk, though? My armpits are like little faucets when I get nervous. Or hot. Or when I win awards from the Leander Foreign Press.

7:26: You know how it’s fashionable to wear those little shrug sweaters right now? The Hollywood Foreign Press dude is wearing on of those on his head.

7:30: "Thank you so much, I’m going to get off" says Emily Blunt, but I’m pretty sure that was Kyra Sedgewick’s line.

7:33: The background behind Hugh Laurie looks like the readout from a crazy military heat signature device.

7:39: BREAKING NEWS, no school in Austin tomorrow. Or Eanes. Or other places I didn’t hear. This means no pre-school either. Hooray! And by "hooray!" I mean "Oh crap!"

7:46: Of course Meryl Streep wins! She is the epitome of everything that is awesome or funny or cool or talented. Also, I wish I could wear glasses like that.

7:56: How did I not know that Sascha Baron Cohen is hott?

7:59: Annette Bening is totally one of those people who’s all, "Oh stop it, you, I’m not as beautiful/talented/skinny as you say!*giggle*" And then when you stop saying it, she gives you devil eyes until you start complimenting her again.

8:01: The wee one just told me that frogs have suction cups on their hands. Indeed. Also, Eddie murphy won for Dreamgirls. Why didn’t he give his speech as Donkey? Sure that wouldn’t really make sense, but it would be funny.

8:04: See? Prince is totally there. He’s just so tiny no one could see him coming to the stage to get his award. That’s OK, though, because it gave J. Tim a chance to show me that he’s funny. And that the sexy he brought back must not include his hair.

8:10: Speaking of girl crushes… Agent Scully is still so cute, even though she isn’t Agent Scully anymore and she’s a Real Actress now. And this is neither here nor there, but don’t you think Gillian Anderson has the tiniest little teeth you’ve ever seen? I bet she uses kid-sized toothbrushes and saves lots of money on toothpaste.

8:17: You know how 7-year-old girls like to try to do their own make-up for dance recitals? Well, someone let one of those girls loose on Cameron Diaz’s face.

8:21: Please have Alec Baldwin win!

8:22: YES. He makes me chortle every week. Here’s to chortling and to funny Alec. I lift my Ozarka to you.

8:26: Donald Trump is such a skeez.

8:30: When is the second season of Weeds going to be downloadable or Netflixable? I LOVED the first season. "Little boxes on the hillside…"

8:33: I really enjoy Ugly Betty, so yay for them! And I love that that dude just said he loves his mama.

8:36: Do you think filmmakers from other countries get pissed when American films are nominated for Best Foreign Language film? I mean, bully for Clint Eastwood and Steven Spielberg and everyone for making a movie about Iwo Jima, but it seems like there’s a director in another country feeling gypped.

8:41: just so you know, I’m going to stop live blogging at 9, in order to watch 24 and preserve my marriage. But I’ll tivo the rest of the awards and blog about them later tonight.

8:45: Those weird set pieces look like giant lobster claws.

8:49: Yay America Ferrerra! I’m sorry I just spelled your name wrong. Aw, she’s weepeing before even getting to the stage. Her dress is a lovely shade of blue, by the way. Annette Bening just looked at her like, "Bitch, why haven’t you told me how talented and beautiful I am? Why didn’t I win this award?" Then someone whispers to her she wasn’t nominated in the category.

SO MANY COMMERCIALS

8:59: I don’t want to think of Warren Beatty’s balls, Tom Hanks. No. No. No. No. No.

9:05: Well, during the Warren Beatty tribute I have grown a beard and aged 30 years and not thought about what balls he has. 

And now I must take a break to watch Keifer kick some ass. But I’ll be back later with some "live" blogging of the rest of the festivities. Unless the ice storm kills my internet connection. Then I will be sad. And also probably cold.

10:45AM, Tuesday: I just TiVo’d my way through the last of the awards while the wee-er one hollered and the wee one kept saying over and over again, "why was it Chewie’s tummy that got everyone caught in the net? Why? Why was it Chewie’s tummy that got everyone caught in the net?" So forgive me for being brief. I just want to say that I haven’t seen Borat yet, and I’ve already commented on how surprising hot Sascha Baron Cohen is, but seriously? He’s smokin’ and I’m a little afriad to see the movie now that he’s so explicitly described the face-in-taint scene, but I think I’ll see it anyway.

Also, I was hoping Heroes would sneak in and swipe the GG away from Grey’s. Not because I don’t like Grey’s, because I do, but because Heroes is so fun and new and quasi-geeky.  Alas. I’m happy for Shonda Rhimes, though. She’s fabulous.

There’s more to talk about, but of course the wee one is now chasing the dog and trying to beat on him with Matchbox tracks so I have to go save a life and threaten another. I’m like Jack Bauer, only with cramps and a teething baby!

We have a tooth! And ice!

no sleep, much fussing
angry baby knows the truth
while Mom is clueless

Well, I thought the wee-er one would be getting a tooth soon, but last Tuesday, at her 6-month well check (6 months!) the doctor said he didn’t see any signs of teething and that, though the teeth were close to the surface, it would still be a while.

And by a while I guess he meant three days.

On Friday she bit my thumb with tremendous force and I was all, "DAMmit that hurt." because a tiny, gritty piece of new tooth snagged the soft part of my thumb pad. Then I said, "No wonder you’ve been Crankmaster McStinkyPants for the past few weeks." So now I know. In hindsight, I should have figured it out waaaaay before this, but what do I know?

Anyway, as the days have past, the Little Tooth That Could has been pushing farther and farther out, while the wee-er one’s temperament has deteriorated tremendously. I put her toys in the fridge so they’re cold when she gnaws on them and that sort of helps. For about fifteen seconds. And then she wants to nurse for fifteen seconds and chew on my finger for fifteen seconds and chew on HER finger for fifteen seconds and then spend the rest of the day (and night) fussing. She’s not freaking out crying or anything, it’s just a low level irritation/indignation that something sharp would dare try to perforate her gums and/or that I would dare try to put her down for a minute so that I could go to bathroom without anyone on my lap.

In other news, it really did get icy! First we were drowned with like 7 inches of rain and then it got freeeezing, and now there’s ice. My thermometer claims it’s 29 degrees outside, but the ice seems to be melting, so maybe the thermo is a lying bastard. It sure FEELS like 29 degrees, though. Brrrr.

The weather dudes are all predicting more ice for tonight so maybe tomorrow the wee one and I can venture into the backyard for some weed skating. It’s 4 in the afternoon and we’ve already baked cookies, watched two movies, played Lincoln Logs and Legos, frosted cookies, eaten cookies, eaten more cookies, entertained Cranky McPissedOff, staged a rescue effort for some Lego guys stuck under the bed, and created a game wherein I take pictures of a toy in the wee one’s room without him watching, show him the picture, and then command him to go find the object. It’s like Hide & Seek only there’s some accidental picking up of his bedroom. Woo. Anyway, I’m exhausted and if it’s going to be icy tomorrow, too, then we’re just going to go outside play and risk becoming casualties of the ice, rather than stay inside all day and risk becoming casualties of the stir craziness that ensues after spending four days in a row stuck in the house.

Ah, well, maybe if we go outside the wee-er one can chew on the frozen weeds and the wee one can race around like the tazmanian devil and I can get one tiny little sharp, gritty sliver of peace and quiet.

I had something really funny to talk about and now I’ve forgotten. It didn’t have anything to do with having to clean poop out of the wee-er one’s belly button at Ikea the other day, but now that I think of it, that was kind of funny.

Also, what is it about an icy day that makes me NEVER STOP EATING. Sweet baby Jesus, I cannot stop shoveling it in.

There’s a chance of maybe possibly ice or possibly sleet or maybe just rain or hell no one really knows

Here’s my prediction of what the news is going to be like for the next three days as the possibility of an ice storm looms:

"It’s The Possible Ice Storm of 2007" [ominous music plays] We’re bringing you live coverage from across the city, with four reporters on location all across town. Let’s go to Bill for more…"

"Bill here and WOW is it raining."

"We’ve heard there’s ice and snow and road closures, Bill. Is this true?"

"Well, no, not really. Mostly it’s raining. And really wet. And there is this low water crossing that closed earlier. It’s reopened now, though. *cough* Back to you in the studio."

"Thanks Bill. Now let’s talk to Melissa."

"Hi. This is Melisa McFancyPants and I’m standing here staring at a creek. It’s got a lot of water in it. Also, it’s raining."

"Thanks Melissa. Can you tell me if the reports of tornadoes and thunder snow and downed power lines are true?"

"I haven’t heard anything about any of that, but I can tell it’s raining, because my hair is wet. It’s raining kind of hard, too. Plus, the creek is really wet and stuff is floating in it."

"As you can see folks, the threat of dangerous inclement weather is increasing exponentially as the afternoon approaches. Let’s talk to Sally downtown."

"Hi there. It’s really raining out here. People are wet and cold. Brrr."

"What about the reports of looting and traffic signals flashing red?"

"I haven’t seen any of that. But I’ll keep you posted on any cold or rain-related rioting that might occur."

"Let’s take a quick look at the radar here… HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! The rain! The cold! The slight possibility of ice! This is a very serious situation, folks. Very serious. Let’s check in with Donald who has heard a rumor of some sleet occurring in Dallas, which is a mere 250 miles away!"

Aaaaand scene.

Ah, I love the weather hysteria we get around here. It’s so fun to watch. The meteorologists have busted into Saturday morning cartoons about 14 times this morning. Right now they’re at a fairly controlled level of near panic over the rain and cold. I’m getting some popcorn ready for when it really starts to get icy. It’s gonna be fun times watching the TV news media dissolve into screaming hysterics as the temperatures drop. Heh. Ice is fun in Texas.

clean sheets! clean floors!

brand new addiction
good for health but not budget
Dyson-ing my house

So I paid a nice lady to come clean my house. It’s the first time I’ve ever had someone do that and, uh, IT EFFING ROCKS. When she was done, the dishwasher was on, the floors were clean, there were clean sheets on all the beds, neat piles of toys replacing the previous psychotic melee of toys… it was so awesome.

My bathroom didn’t exactly shine like the top of the Chrysler building, but it was cleaner than I can ever get it, so I’ll forgive her for that. Plus, she did get the soap slime off the glass in the shower, and up until I actually saw the glass clean WITHOUT the use of dynamite, I didn’t know it was physically possible to achieve something so amazing.

I have this feeling now – a feeling much like the one you get when you skip that first class. You tell yourself you won’t skip anymore, but the feeling of freedom, glorious freedom, is too intoxicating. Soon, you’re taking finals and you’ve only been to three classes. This is how it’s going to be with my house. I said I’d only have someone clean it once and then I’d be able to maintain that clean for quite sometime. Hahahahahahaha. No seriously. That’s what I said. But now that a professional has had her way with the place I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back to my own half-assed ways. If I can make my budget allow it, I’ll have her back every two weeks. I don’t know if my budget will let me, though. It’s known for being quite uptight. [Indeed I am, meez crezy spender. Every two weeks?! You eez not sinking straight, ladee.]

Anyway, yay for people who come clean your house and bring their own supplies and fancy vacuum cleaners! Boo for inflexible budgets with french accents.

wee one takes over the world, one run-on sentence at a time

it has been one year
now the only freaking out
is when there’s NO school

A little over a year ago, the wee one started at his mother’s day out pre-school program. If you remember, the first day was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Now that we’re a year into it, though, I can officially say it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done for him.

Yesterday was the first day back after a long, long holiday break. In the morning, he woke up all excited – he ran to my room, snuggled up in the bed with me and said, "I’m so happy school is today, mommy. I love it so much." That’s quite a difference from his fierce, screaming, body slamming freak-out of a year ago.

I can’t believe he’ll be in kindergarten in the fall. I talk about how I’m so excited about it and how I’m counting down the days, but…. wow. Real school. In only seven months. I guess I might be the one having the freak out meltdown when the day comes.

Hahahaha who am I kidding? I’m so friggin counting down the days. I mean, come on, it’ll be the first time in years I’ll have an actual reason for buying school supplies.

Right on.

smellpocalypse

smellpocalypse
comes out of kitchen faucet
so I drink bottled

Andi over at Mama Knows Breast has tagged me to show off how I drink water. As a nursing mama I’m supposed to drink something like 17 gallons of water a day. I come close to that, but I think I drank more when I was pregnant. (Sigh, that last sentence is going to bring a lot of funky Google searches to the blog, isn’t it?).

Anyway, here’s how I drink my water:
Img_0727

Straight from the Ozarka bottle (because of the aforementioned smelly water from the faucet). When I was pregnant I could only drink warm Evian because everything else tasted like I was drinking pennies. Then, once I hit the second trimester I could drink my water cold. Breakthrough! And by the time the wee-er one was born I was back to my Ozarka.

When I was pregnant with the wee one, though, I just carried around two polar bottles and constantly filled them with ice and water at work. Then, once he was born and I was at home, I kept toting them around. After so many months of hauling those suckers around they got pretty gross looking (there’s a boob joke here that I’m going to avoid). I wish I could find them (water bottles, not boobs), I’d take a picture. It’s probably better that I don’t though.

Anyway, I love my water. It’s almost all I drink. Every now and then I toss in some green tea or half a Coke, but that just makes me have to drink more water. You should have seen my nightstand a couple of nights ago – I had something like nine water bottles stacked on it. Not because I drink nine bottles a night, but because I am lazy and the recycle bin is all the way out in the garage. Stupid garage.

So, yes. I drink my water bottled, thankyouverymuch. And I drink a lot of it.

The end.

Oh wait, I think I’m supposed to tag someone else now. Hmm. Katrina, of the new baby boy and the of the awesome-ly dubbed "mammary concession stand," you’re it!