tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-116593202024-03-07T11:43:13.913-05:00Confessions of a Serial ProcrastinatorA blog about nothing. Or everything. Whatever I feel like, basically. I refuse to limit myself, I'm too lazy for that kind of discipline.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.comBlogger236125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-62912487686885065372009-01-02T08:46:00.005-05:002009-01-02T08:54:32.327-05:00Happy New Year from my house to yoursLast night I got into bed and, in an attempt to begin one of my so-called "resolutions", I began to write in one of the numerous blank journal books that have accumulated in my house over the years. Then, the following conversation occurred:<br /><br />J: What's that, your fart journal? [begin high-pitched imitation voice, tinged with inexplicable British aristocrat accent] "Dear Fart Journal, I farted SO many times today. At least 7, but I'm not sure, I think I lost count. What EVER could I have eaten that caused so many farts?"<br /><br />Me: Well actually, I just want to write down one thing every day that I am thankful for.<br /><br />[I look at J and think maybe he thinks this is an impressive idea]<br /><br />Me: And also, I thought it might be helpful to write down some, like, personal affirmations or something, to help me be healthier.<br /><br />[I notice the beginnings of a smirk on his face].<br /><br />Me: Go ahead, laugh at me, whatever.<br /><br />J: I liked the Fart Journal better.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-48915209548105734502008-12-08T11:32:00.003-05:002008-12-08T11:42:15.150-05:00a letter to my new maidsDear New Cleaning People,<br /><br />While I am glad to have you as replacements for the former cleaning guy, who stopped showing up after being arrested for robbery (and then subsequently, according to The Advocate's "Dumb Criminals" section, stole a SHORT BUS and used it to lift a flat-screen TV and a bunch of booze from someone's home), I am not completely satisfied with the way you clean my house.<br /><br />Obviously, I am appreciative of your willingness not to mention the stains on my mattress cover when you change my sheets, or the Playboy magazine in the bathroom, or the many, many, piles of clutter created by my husband that you must navigate around while attempting to dust.<br /><br />However, it does not appear that you vacuumed my living room rug today. Do you realize that I have a 9 month old whose favorite game is "lick the rug when Mommy isn't looking"? Also, I specifically left the cat vomit stain on the floor next to the couch for you to tackle (because really, I may as well get the most for my money) but you seem to have overlooked it. And, how could you not have noticed that the couch is absolutely covered in cat hair? If you mistakenly thought it was part of the design, I do apologize.<br /><br />If you'll allow me to get really anal retentive, I will say that despite being a crooked thief, my former cleaner always ensured that my tea kettle was shiny and spotless. I can only hope that you will begin to pay a little more attention to detail on future visits.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br />The Woman Who Has No Idea How Much She Is Supposed to Tip You, But Thinks That Maybe You'd Get More If You Moved The Ottoman Once in a WhileKat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-58052316239943285132008-11-27T08:24:00.002-05:002008-11-27T09:11:43.238-05:00gobble gobble!Let's be blunt, things really suck right now for a whole lot of people. People in the US losing their homes, struggling to feed their kids, wondering how they will afford their medicine. People in Mumbai being held hostage by terrorists. Kids in Africa, hungry and orphaned because of AIDS.<br /><br />It's easy to get caught up in our own insignificant problems, but today especially, I have nothing but gratitude in my heart for the many blessings I have in my life.<br /><br />A beautiful, happy, healthy baby who brings me boundless joy.<br /><br />A loving husband who is madly in love with his little girl.<br /><br />Secure jobs that allow us to keep a roof over our head, food on our table, and more.<br /><br />Loving, caring family.<br /><br />Wonderful friends: new and old, near and far.<br /><br />A home that I love in a safe area.<br /><br />The fact that I lost all the baby weight, even if I'm still up 20 pounds (ok...30) from my wedding weight...<br /><br />Hoping you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day!Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-7499998938529043442008-11-07T08:47:00.002-05:002008-11-07T08:55:50.149-05:00Dr. Atkins spins in his graveOur evenings are usually pretty hectic. I pick Maia up from daycare at 5 (around the same time J gets home). Maia gets dinner around 5:30 and the bedtime routine starts about an hour later. You can see why J and I don't normally eat dinner until about 8. J is pretty good about asking if he can help get dinner started while I put Maia to bed. He's no Cordon Bleu chef but, unlike his brother, he does know that you need to boil water *before* adding the pasta to the pot.<br /><br />So, the other night J asks if he can get something started for dinner, and I told him there was an open box of pasta in the cupboard. So, he looks at the box, which was only half full, since I had previously used half the pasta for another dinner. He complained, "this is all there is?", and, too tired to argue that half a box of pasta really was plenty for 2 people, I told him he could find more pasta in the pantry. He proceeded to cook a full box of penne--serving each of us half the box.<br /><br />A few minutes later, I hear him turning on the oven. He comes back from the freezer with a frozen pizza. "What are you doing? You must be pretty hungry, huh?," I asked. "This is the bread dish," was the reply. And here I thought it was important to have a *vegetable* dish with dinner. Silly me.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-14972696860583871772008-11-05T22:17:00.003-05:002008-11-05T22:41:13.084-05:00catching upI've really been absent around here...not that anyone probably even bothers to check anymore! Somehow I just can't let this blog totally go.<br /><br />With last night's Obama victory, I was finally able to put a lot of pent-up anxiety to rest. Listening to him speaking last night, I will admit that I got teary-eyed from the realization that we finally have an intelligent, eloquent leader, and that this election meant so very much to so many people. Watching the crowd at Grant park was amazing. I went to sleep last night knowing that in the morning I would kiss my baby and have great hope for a better future for her and others of her generation.<br /><br />Now, on to some things I've been wanting to say to some people who shall remain nameless.<br /><br />To person #1: I will post whatever I want there, and I don't care if it embarrasses you in front of your little Republican club. In fact, I'm quite convinced that the only reason you're so involved with that group is because you like being clique-y. I don't think you have a clue about the actual issues, and I certainly don't think you have any interest in learning.<br /><br />To person #2: You and your family really disgust me. I can't believe you had the nerve to accuse Democrats of having no class or dignity after all of the vile smears you've been spreading on your page. I didn't think it was possible to be both openly gay and an ultra-right wing nutjob (closeted gay, of course, we see that all the time). Go suck a fat dick. Or should I say a skinny dick? Whichever is the least enjoyable for you.<br /><br />To HR: Excuse me, but I don't want to just "assume a 9 or 10 hour work day". I have a baby at home, and a husband. I left academia (which I am seriously starting to regret) so that I could work nice, normal, 9-5 hours. This is bullshit. I'm working twice as hard as I used to and I better get a fucking raise or at least a bonus to show for it.<br /><br />To my co-worker: You are a goody-two-shoes and you are fucking everything up at work. Have you ever heard of saying "no"?? You're making it harder for the rest of us who really don't feel like working 60-hour weeks. I don't want to compete with you but you're making me look bad. You talk too much and you never return my emails when I need you to. Bite me.<br /><br />To person #3: You seem like a nice enough person, but could you be any more naive? Why don't you just bitch and moan some more about liberals before your next Medicare-funded OB appointment. I'm sure you have no clue that Medicare comes from the government. Maybe you should have gotten your own fucking health insurance before you got pregnant again.<br /><br />I'm sure there's more, but it feels pretty good getting these out.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-19827371895087374142008-09-12T13:20:00.003-04:002008-09-12T13:26:03.881-04:00Friday cute attackJust to prove it's not all about the poop...here is a video of Maia meeting Grandma and Grandpa's dog Harley. She is very much into dogs and cats lately...she will do anything to get her hands (and mouth) on them. Luckily the animals in our life are mostly obliging. I don't think I've ever heard her laugh so much as she did during this meeting with Harley...<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwg5oE6nuSiwujeO-S3bp7YXG4DnTQh2JXknc4txv2FOaqBKeOCPwaPvOSV_983AOXnW3sUv3G_qio' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-48977297614683531862008-09-09T19:33:00.003-04:002008-09-09T19:52:53.937-04:00diaper doodyEver wonder why new parents spend so much time talking about baby poop? Because it's fucking fascinating, that's why!<br /><br />Babies who are exclusively breast-fed have watery mustard yellow poop that smells a little like popcorn--in the same way that dogs' paws smell like popcorn, I guess. It's a little bit sweet and not really unpleasant at all. Sometimes it turns green, and when that happens it's because of an imbalance in the bacteria of the gut. So for the first 6 months or so you can enjoy not having people run like hell when your baby starts grunting and farting without being the least bit embarrassed about it, and you can even change baby's diaper right there at the airport gate on the floor without offending anyone's sense of smell.<br /><br />Well, we all know babies can't live on milk forever (though it would be much more convenient for me--what with all the baby food jars and spoons and things that eating non-milk food requires). When they start adding solids to their diets, their poop starts becoming more solid as well. And I suppose I should have been prepared for some other changes, but I will admit that I was utterly surprised to find what appeared to be smashed cooked carrots in Maia's diaper today. It was as if the carrots she had at lunch yesterday had passed through her completely unchanged, like they were just taking a ride on the Chunnel and would be on their way.<br /><br />But what I was *really* unprepared for was how--in the 2 seconds I stood marveling at the diaper full of pumpkin pie--Maia's little hand managed to make a swift grab at her lady parts, plucking up a chunk of carrot poop on its merry way. This is where the mommy reflexes come into play...at the same time, and as quickly as possible, the poop-infested hand must be grabbed and wiped, while keeping the other hand away from the poop-covered nether regions, not to mention blocking baby's sock-covered, kicking feet from becoming the next to fall victim to fecal staining. Then there's still the matter of actually wiping the poop from baby's bottom and maneuvering a new diaper on before she decides it's a good time to pee. Dads just can't handle this kind of high-stress situation (at least in my house, I think this scenario would have ended up with both Dad and baby covered in orange poop and Dad swearing at me as if it were my fault). Oh wait a second, I'm the only one who changes diapers in this house so, nevermind.<br /><br />Hmmm, I wonder when it'll be alright to feed Maia blueberries. Maybe that day I'll insist that it's Dad's turn for diapers.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-4538949646501967672008-08-21T07:47:00.004-04:002008-08-21T08:03:36.053-04:00The Road to RidiculousnessLast night I finished reading the very excellent book "The Road", by Cormac McCarthy (seriously, go read it ASAP). The book was a birthday gift from my brother-in-law who I shall refer to as Miguel, as that is his extra-comical alter ego. Here is the actual transcript of a text message conversation I had with Miguel yesterday about the book.<br /><br />me: OMG that book is SO good! I'm almost finished and i really want to read the rest right now but I have to work :(<br /><br />Miguel: I told you!!! We will have to see the movie when it comes out!<br /><br />me: btw, I didn't really enjoy the image of a headless baby charring on a spit. There is some seriously gruesome stuff in that story!<br /><br />Miguel: Neither did I! But it's the only source of food! I hear it tastes like dolphin!<br /><br />me: You're never babysitting.<br /><br />Miguel: My plan worked!<br /><br />me: I knew you were up to something! :) dolphin is pretty yummy, btw<br /><br />Miguel: That's why they put it in tuna!<br /><br />I should mention that Miguel is an artist and he has an online store at Etsy where he sells pretty cool t-shirts. Just sayin'. <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5434155">Click here to check it out...</a>Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-51800079620401081392008-08-15T10:10:00.004-04:002008-08-15T10:14:45.122-04:00thanks for ruining it for meWhy, John Edwards? WHY?????<br /><br />I liked you. I really, really liked you. You had the perfect family, you pulled through tragedies together and stayed strong. You and your wife seem so cute and down-to-earth. You advocate for the poor and seem to genuinely care about the issues you talk about. I would have voted for you in the primaries if you hadn't dropped out before I had the chance.<br /><br />So you had an affair. You were married 30 years and you did tell your wife long before it became public. I can almost get over that. You're human, and people make mistakes.<br /><br />But now I hear you may have paid her off with campaign money? Seriously, I didn't think you had this kind of ickiness in you. I am disappointed. Just wanted to let you know.<br /><br />P.S. I still like you more than the John Edwards who pretends to communicate with the dead and makes millions off of poor unsuspecting grief-stricken people.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-59917565076719167772008-08-12T08:55:00.004-04:002008-08-12T12:51:05.406-04:00catching upI have gotten really behind on my blogging. I think part of it has to do with all the BlogHer coverage that I had been following--it led me to discover some really great blogs and then I just got sort of bummed that I can't churn out award-winning writing in each and every post. Silly, I know...<br /><br />Anyhoo.<br /><br />I am working on a post about a freak accident that happened here at the house a few weeks back. I've even got pictures. I'll post it, eventually.<br /><br />Maia is on the verge of turning 6 months old. We just started trying to feed her "solid" food, and she pretty much wants nothing to do with it. When I was in grad school I had this huge Jagermeister poster in the kitchen of my apartment. It was bright orange and said "Jager, So Smooth" and had this bearded guy on it who was making a horrible grimace. Presumably he had just taken a shot. That's the face that Maia makes when rice cereal touches her lips or tongue. Or, I could just show you:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWjSf2KV_SBaNY3QPiMCKgSoO6Hequ1HbiVBRKMtjPq_wKa61C-hENRfK7FlIPHpFYlzWkZoH4dJI5lAAH961IDwSnFzCdEyRVlVEm3PgRi_T79Tc62TujsktOnCdN3ysOh7UFQ/s1600-h/IMG_1826.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWjSf2KV_SBaNY3QPiMCKgSoO6Hequ1HbiVBRKMtjPq_wKa61C-hENRfK7FlIPHpFYlzWkZoH4dJI5lAAH961IDwSnFzCdEyRVlVEm3PgRi_T79Tc62TujsktOnCdN3ysOh7UFQ/s400/IMG_1826.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233615668730172002" border="0" /></a><br />I guess my milk is just *that* good that no other food could possibly compare.<br /><br />Speaking of milk, we went shopping at Target the other day (don't worry, I'll get there). Taking J to Target is always a mistake because he can't help but find tons of things he didn't know he needed or wanted. This trip he came home with an Axe shower kit, among other things. Yes, that Axe--the one with the commercials showing 18-year-old slightly dorky guys with hot blonde chicks falling all over them in the elevator after they use some Axe cologne or Axe shower gel. Apparently this advertising works on 34-year-old men as well. "But it's only 6 dollars! And it comes with this shower scrubber." Making him put it back would have been risking a tantrum so I let it slide.<br /><br />I had Maia in a sling and she had started mouthing my neck, so I knew that she was getting hungry. The only thing I had left to buy was a card, so I told J I was going to head over to the card section and to meet me there. I picked out a card while Maia pecked at me like an uncoordinated chicken, and when I was finished there was still no sign of J. I started to wander back through the furniture section, where on display was a particularly attractive Ikea-style black couch, right on the end of the aisle. So, I thought "why not?", took a seat, whipped out a boob and nursed Maia right there. (See, I told you I'd get to the milk). Now, I did cover up...I don't mind nursing in public but when you are an F-cup you really don't need to attract any more gawkers than is really necessary. The only person that even paid any attention to me was an old lady who wanted to know "is that couch comfortable? I saw it in a box over there." I told her that yes, it seemed to be doing the job, at which point she actually noticed that I was nursing and apologized for interrupting. J finally wandered back around and we were able to get out of the store with only a short stop in the electronics department. I'll let you know how the Axe works out for us.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-31778299903419684802008-07-24T15:52:00.004-04:002008-07-24T15:56:45.260-04:00baby haikuIn an effort to nurture my creative side, I've been working on some poetry--haiku, to be specific. I probably need to expand my choice of subject matter, however. <br /><br />stars bright, baby stirs<br />mommy and daddy need sleep<br />clock reads 3 AM<br /><br />rain falls warm and sour<br />drips onto shoulders and floor<br />please stop spitting up<br /><br />a snuggling pair<br />baby suckles at the breast<br />ouch baby, don't bite!<br /><br />butterscotch pudding<br />warm, sticky, smeared on my shirt<br />oops, I smell poopie<br /><br /><br />well, what do you think?Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-74076921801059809932008-07-16T10:44:00.004-04:002008-07-16T11:21:59.595-04:00Another reason to love FeistI will admit that I haven't bought any albums by Feist. Yet. I really started to like her when I saw her appearance as a guest on The Colbert Report. And then I saw this video. And now I officially love her.
<br />
<br />Also, I am counting down the days until I can watch Sesame Street with Maia without the American Academy of Pediatrics accusing me of deliberately trying to rot my child's brain with the evil rays of the tee-vee.
<br />
<br /><div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/9fciD_II7NI' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/9fciD_II7NI'/></object></p></div>
<br />
<br />(I am editing this post to add that I am downloading a Feist album from iTunes RIGHT NOW. See what kind of publicity you can get from a little Sesame Street action?)Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-45890863598898021152008-07-13T16:48:00.002-04:002008-07-13T16:55:53.988-04:00blissYesterday I spent the morning sitting out back, entertaining Maia and looking out into the woods. When she napped, I actually got to read a book for a little while. Yes, it sounds nice, but there was one detail that pushed yesterday morning particularly close to ecstasy. No, I wasn't eating an entire carton of Haagen Daaz... While I was outside enjoying the lovely day, inside there were people hard at work cleaning my entire house. I'll confess: I hired cleaners.<br /><br />I've been thinking of (or rather, daydreaming about) hiring professional cleaners for a while, but now that Maia is here, I realized that I didn't want to spend the little free time I had shoving a dirty brush into my toilets. Even when I would spend an entire Saturday cleaning the house, I would rarely have enough time to clean the floors after vacuuming up all the stray dogs living under my furniture and putting away piles of laundry.<br /><br />So, I found a nice couple that run their own cleaning business. Their price was totally reasonable, so I took the plunge. I don't think there's any going back now...I mean, they cleaned the inside of my <span style="font-style:italic;">microwave</span>!Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-41620358811699006602008-06-27T08:43:00.003-04:002008-06-27T08:47:33.627-04:00Coldplay must have the BEST marketing team ever. In addition to their overly pretentious iTunes commercial, they performed on the Daily Show this week, and right now they are playing on the Today show. What's next, Martha Stewart? Surely she would appreciate the ostensibly homemade jacket Chris Martin has been wearing for every performance. What, Gwyneth can't help you pick out some different outfits? Or do those colored armbands make your songs sound better?<br /><br />At any rate, my <span style="font-weight:bold;">mother in law</span> purchased their song Viva la Vida on iTunes this week, so if that doesn't prove that their marketing strategy has been a success, I don't know what does.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-89973389268738332952008-06-17T15:20:00.003-04:002008-06-17T15:22:06.812-04:00Mommy needs her quiet timeIs it wrong...<br /><br />...that I'm paying someone to watch my kid downstairs while I sit up in my office reading blogs, ahem, I mean, <span style="font-style:italic;">working</span>?Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-68505181154804897812008-06-06T10:47:00.001-04:002008-06-06T10:49:28.634-04:00in shockI turned on VH1 this morning for my bad-reality-TV-in-the-background-while-I-work fix. There was something really weird on, I couldn't figure out what it was. Then, I realized, it was a MUSIC VIDEO. Holy shit, they actually still play those on "Video Hits 1"? Who knew?Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-11386457951437018282008-06-05T14:17:00.004-04:002008-06-05T14:20:09.374-04:00text-message parenting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjotZ8fxtFbCAa2Xc69LvSUW7yoLtTueUQ7tZTtNgEg8t4-oBtuLxRGldDHRygEOHgcq927AGU-A_aKVYfpuyqNYBATZ1nVISliqfzXQEYxY2yzJd1YwHQnw-YjfVwSuNC_qhGtfw/s1600-h/Maia+moving.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjotZ8fxtFbCAa2Xc69LvSUW7yoLtTueUQ7tZTtNgEg8t4-oBtuLxRGldDHRygEOHgcq927AGU-A_aKVYfpuyqNYBATZ1nVISliqfzXQEYxY2yzJd1YwHQnw-YjfVwSuNC_qhGtfw/s400/Maia+moving.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208463467703708914" /></a><br />Today I sent this picture to J via text message. I wrote "her head was on the burp cloth when she started". (The burp cloth is that white cloth on the playmat)<br /><br />J's reply: "Staple sum swiffer sheets 2 her."<br /><br />Hmmm...Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-43516654791103639882008-06-03T11:39:00.005-04:002008-06-03T13:05:47.802-04:00Weight Watchers and Costco don't mixAt Costco this weekend, J talked me into dropping a 4-pound bag of trail mix into the cart. He likes to eat it at work, driving around in his truck, and I was too hungry and in a hurry to argue. <br /><br />The first 5 minutes in the store were fairly amusing, as Maia decided to spit up all over the floor, with J quickly deflecting with a "hey, what's in that aisle over there?", allowing us to remove ourselves from the scene. But I can only deal with shopping at Costco for about as much time as Matthew McConaughey can deal with wearing a shirt. I might have been appeased by the free mini-quiche samples but there were never any ready when I walked by. And then there was J, wandering off to look at shorts and glass balls for your garden and strange electronic devices, leaving me to stand with the cart, bouncing the baby and smiling politely at comments like "what aisle did SHE come from?" In the end, as usual, we left having spent well over $100 more than I had wanted us to.<br /><br />And now that bag, that ridiculously gigantic bag of trail mix, is sitting on top of my refrigerator, taunting me. I recently re-joined Weight Watchers because breastfeeding was not the magic post-partum weight loss trick I was promised, so there's no way I can sit with that bag of trail mix in my lap and eat it by the handful like I really want. People, do you have any idea how excruciating it is to measure <span style="font-weight:bold;">3 tablespoons</span> of trail mix from a <span style="font-weight:bold;">4-pound</span> bag? I'm here to tell you, it HURTS.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-54237166689350114022008-05-28T09:55:00.003-04:002008-05-28T10:00:12.641-04:00Milk PistolsThis one goes out to my girl <a href="http://marybeth.bernheisel.org/">MB</a>:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aESEjREDGt0&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aESEjREDGt0&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br />If you can't understand the lyrics, go to http://eclectech.co.uk/milkpistols.php and play the video there--it's subtitled!Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-73641181658070690652008-05-23T11:38:00.003-04:002008-05-23T12:00:38.969-04:00Count your blessingsWhen we started thinking about trying to conceive last year, I stumbled across a pregnancy website and found myself reading and posting to messageboards talking to other women trying to conceive. When I got pregnant, I joined my "Due Date Club" messageboard on the site--a place for women due in February 2008 to post questions and concerns and discuss the joys of (and the not-so-fun stuff about!) pregnancy. We have women from all over the country, and many from around the world. Single moms, first-time moms, veteran moms. Everybody had a unique situation, but we were brought together by the unique experience of pregnancy and motherhood<br /><br />Over the past year the women on the board have gotten to know each other, and have supported each other through difficult pregnancy symptoms, scary prenatal testing, amusing bodily emissions issues, childbirth, and the amazing transformation into mothers of beautiful babies.<br /><br />The internet is an interesting place. I've perused other messageboards where people get clique-y, nasty, judgemental, and argumentative. But, my messageboard friends always agreed that the Feb '08 board was special in that we didn't see much of the negative. Despite differing backgrounds and views, we found ourselves in an incredibly supportive environment, even if it was filled with people we only knew through keystrokes and photographs.<br /><br />One of the women on my board found out during her pregnancy that her baby boy, Lincoln, would be born with Down Syndrome. It was her first pregnancy, and she and her husband were beyond excited to meet the little boy they called their "precious gift" before he was even born. She went through a lot of testing during her pregnancy that involved driving to a faraway hospital and spending weeks at a time away from home. When Lincoln was born, she posted pictures of her beautiful baby boy and we all admired her for her strength and joy in the face of difficulty.<br /><br />Last week, Lincoln got sick and ended up in the hospital. His situation was critical, and the doctors could not figure out what was causing his decline. His mom posted updates to the board regularly and she got an outpouring of support. We all agreed that the problems we were used to posting about on the board--leaky diapers, babies not sleeping through the night, holding on to those extra pregnancy pounds--seemed silly and selfish when we knew of a mom who was by her baby's bedside in the NICU praying for him to get better.<br /><br />Early yesterday morning, baby Lincoln passed away. He was only a few weeks older than Maia. I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to lose a baby, and my heart breaks for her and her husband.<br /><br />I am not the most patient Mom in the world, but the next time I get frustrated by a few minutes of crying, I hope to remind myself how lucky I am to have a beautiful, healthy baby, and that there are moms out there who would give anything to hear their babies' cries again but never will.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-8080567940088171222008-05-08T16:22:00.003-04:002008-05-08T16:35:53.878-04:00Mommy MeetupsBeing a new mom and also new to our area, I've been thinking how it would be nice to get involved with a mom's group. But for some reason, it seems that 99% of the mom's groups out there are targeted at stay-at-home moms. Even the parent & child classes (like the mom & baby yoga class I've been going to during my maternity leave) all seem to be scheduled on weekdays, and are thereby geared towards SAHMs. Nothing against SAHMs--I'd love to be one if I could--but what about the rest of us? We may work during the week but that doesn't mean we aren't seeking out opportunities to meet other moms or to participate in parent/baby activities.<br /><br />Today I was checking out the "Holistic Moms Network" (HMN) website. They have a chapter near me, and they meet in the evening. Sounds great! But honestly, I'm not sure I would fit in. I'm slowly trying to live "greener" and eliminate nasty chemicals from the food and products in our home--I mean, jeez, I've been to the newly-opened Whole Foods like 7 times in the past 2 weeks! (Ah, the joys of having a nearby Whole Foods, that's a topic for another day.) But, I have chosen to have my child vaccinated (the horror!), and while I haven't set any firm limits on how long I will breastfeed or co-sleep, I find breastfeeding 3-year olds a little creepy and I'm pretty sure Maia will be sleeping in her own room by the time she's 6 months old. I would also not be able to sit straight-faced through any meetings about optimizing one's aura. I'm not kidding, but the local HMN's next meeting topic is "Alkalize and Ph Balancing". I am not even sure what that's supposed to mean. It conjures up images of zit-cream commercials but I'm pretty sure I'm off-base there. So what do you think, should I check it out?Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-22032711813172632008-05-01T14:14:00.002-04:002008-05-01T14:23:09.159-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IAUtbYn-ffji4gfWyWODqBKIfdijS7bN9HTfOoMEQV_87FyRN9ffLs-s0IWn7j-8mIJwqk7OH5EU32xo8K5EGBrCsqvxAKUUKypfki1u8KvMfVzSUQxwWSAoUbu173ckGJIdsA/s1600-h/Maia0408.001+-+Version+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IAUtbYn-ffji4gfWyWODqBKIfdijS7bN9HTfOoMEQV_87FyRN9ffLs-s0IWn7j-8mIJwqk7OH5EU32xo8K5EGBrCsqvxAKUUKypfki1u8KvMfVzSUQxwWSAoUbu173ckGJIdsA/s400/Maia0408.001+-+Version+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195474712815493762" /></a><br />Maia was cranky when we tried taking pictures of her with Daddy's tattoos. We're going to try it again sometime.<br /><br />I heard about this book called "Mommy Has A Tattoo". It's supposed to teach kids that tattoos aren't scary. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mommyhastattoos.com/images/MHAT-JACKET.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.mommyhastattoos.com/images/MHAT-JACKET.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I would probably add a page that says "except for tattoos on people's *faces* (unless you're in an exotic country where it's a cultural thing, of course)".<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://funnybusiness.typepad.com/funnybusiness/tatface.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://funnybusiness.typepad.com/funnybusiness/tatface.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-14588462951569557002008-04-25T18:42:00.003-04:002008-04-25T18:46:17.347-04:00not smarter than your average bearToday I walked by a couple of guys fishing in a waterway near my house. Both of them were smoking. As I approached, one of the guys took the butt from his mouth and flicked it into the water. I hope he catches a huge fish and gets a nice big bite of butt. What an ass.Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-36292394705145242962008-04-24T07:42:00.003-04:002008-04-24T07:43:31.477-04:002 months oldDon't you just want to eat her up? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS2iVxSFumd6lv3eQbs-8-_4XC6l47WEqFPysjlUwWVYdlGQC9mcJ4ifnNgn08shQtegUa54Ej9Ny1cNERT9l2uPbUavrPCMJ939nWuSPSTFsdzEKBMmk72DztR05ZhH9mguMng/s1600-h/2months.2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS2iVxSFumd6lv3eQbs-8-_4XC6l47WEqFPysjlUwWVYdlGQC9mcJ4ifnNgn08shQtegUa54Ej9Ny1cNERT9l2uPbUavrPCMJ939nWuSPSTFsdzEKBMmk72DztR05ZhH9mguMng/s400/2months.2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192776008769757810" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrK4mT2R4OTD_HRynRXZZ8MReIFXHd7_MGYz6-rZQl3Y8OOCULh9-RpgIdPdCxjBp__jLuZhJ_HrpKiGXM7wrwA1aDz8f2pviQcxmD9tVurGcB1lEi4Pbc8kSlTgnBYgVXqECMfg/s1600-h/2months.1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrK4mT2R4OTD_HRynRXZZ8MReIFXHd7_MGYz6-rZQl3Y8OOCULh9-RpgIdPdCxjBp__jLuZhJ_HrpKiGXM7wrwA1aDz8f2pviQcxmD9tVurGcB1lEi4Pbc8kSlTgnBYgVXqECMfg/s400/2months.1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192775901395575394" /></a>Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11659320.post-28267147301812588122008-04-22T17:44:00.002-04:002008-04-22T18:06:36.073-04:00little yogiI guess all that Mommy & Baby yoga is paying off...look at my little peanut doing <a href="http://www.yogabasics.com/hip-opening-poses/goddess-squat.html">Goddess Pose</a> in her sleep!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJxX39-yylUdCKMArEfdSF027AdQgmiJaDujFiPTzztmEVI_X8SN1yc8GgBak3b6m5_YrQij-yKtaoTE8tUEh5uirWcUSVoOHXjeLLhML-Ahg8NdtaQTNZA8jbt95yjoMaEvseA/s1600-h/IMG_1447.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJxX39-yylUdCKMArEfdSF027AdQgmiJaDujFiPTzztmEVI_X8SN1yc8GgBak3b6m5_YrQij-yKtaoTE8tUEh5uirWcUSVoOHXjeLLhML-Ahg8NdtaQTNZA8jbt95yjoMaEvseA/s320/IMG_1447.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192194302694154818" /></a>Kat Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103695280697007841noreply@blogger.com2