Or Not.
I hate when my mouth hurts two weeks after a root canal.
I hate when I have panic attacks for no apparent reason. Actually, I hate when I have panic attacks for apparent reasons.
I hate when I order a Caesar Salad and it is mostly romaine spines and very little actual leaf.
I hate when work causes me stress.
But...
I love when my starts sprout earlier than I expected.
I love sitting in front of a warm heater.
I love when The Small One kisses all over my face.
Speaking of The Small One, she is funny. Seriously funny. And sometimes, not in a good way. I am a bad mamma. I laugh sometimes when she does naughty things. I should discipline her, but I can't. I am too busy laughing.
For instance, (you knew an example was coming, didn't you?)
T'other day, The Small One awoke in the beautiful am, and after giving brief cuddles to her mamma, announced that she needed to see dogs. So, I took her to the back window and opened it and she called the dogs to her. Of course, they came. They love attention and they love The Small One. She smiled at them and told them they were good dogs, at which point, neighbor dog began barking. Perhaps he wanted some of The Small One's smiles and coos as well, I don't know. At any rate, bark, bark, bark is what we got. The Small One, ever ruler of her domain, was not pleased with the intrusion. She poked her wee (not really) head out of the window and shouted "What the hell, dog?" At which point, he retired. I did not teach her this.
I controlled my laughter as best I could and calmly informed her that we did not say that word. She said okay, and went on her merry way, at which point I dissolved into helpless giggles. (See? Bad Mamma!)
A couple of days later, in the morning, whilst I lay abed, The Small One divested herself of her clothing and climbed into bed with me. She likes to lay in bed "naken" and cozy warms. So, in she climbed, burrowed her cold wee toes into my thigh and cuddled her bottle. She doesn't sleep with a bear, she sleeps with her bottle. Yep, she's weird. As she turned onto her back, bottle fell onto her tummy and dribbled cold milk all over her. The Small One picked up the offender, gave it a stern look and said, "What the hell, Baba?" I didn't even get the chance to tell her we don't say that before I died with laughter. After I recovered, I reminded that we don't say that word, as it is naughty. "Nonnie?" Yes, naughty. "okay!"
Fast forward again a few days. I am sitting in the front room working on something with The Small One next to me waiting as patiently as she can for tubby time. As it is not arriving quickly enough, she trots into the kitchen where daddy is cleaning. "Daddy! Tubby time!" "Okay, in a minute" She comes back to join me in the front room. A minute passes, and up she gets again, trots into the kitchen. "Daddy! Tubby Time!" "Okay, Boo, in just a second." Back into the front room with a small huff of impatience. She plops her little self down next to me and wistfully asks, "Tubby Time?" "Daddy is almost done, then he will..." I am interrupted by a rather largish crash from the kitchen as Daddy drops a cookie sheet. The Small One looks up at me and with adorable seriousness in her voice, plaintively asks "What da hell Daddy doin?"
All I could say was I don't know...
Friday, March 27, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Delightful Day
Not really. I just wanted to fool you into reading my downer of a blog. Heehee.
Last night I got a text informing me that certain things were due for work. These are things I had forgotten about in the mad dash of pain that was getting ready for photo shoot. And now, they need to be done, well, now. I had good intentions last night. I really did mean to go home and get it done.
But, you know, there's The Small One. She is incredibly persuasive.
She threw fits and chucked things until I paid attention. Ah, the blessed baby, she has her tactics down pat.
But, in reality, I have sorely neglected her of late. (Not in a call DCFS immediately sort of way, chill out) She deserved some attention. So...I didn't do what I ought to have done. I played with my wee lassie instead. Is that bad? Nah, I don't think so.
On to Plan B. I would get up early, get to work, get those alterations done and move onto to Important Project. The Fates? They were thumbing their collective nose at me. Very rude.
I chatted online with a friend last night, for quite some time. Good quality time as I haven't seen her for a while and relationships are important, you know. Shortly after ending the chat, I crawled wearily into bed. And that is when the evil began...
My tooth began to ache. Then to throb. Then my entire jaw started to hurt. I got up and took some ibuprofen and sat up for a bit and the pain subsided. So, again, dragging my weary frame into the bedroom, I crawled into bed. And it began again! The pain, the throbbing, it would not stop. I got up again and again, the pain subsided. I heated up a rice sock and took it to bed with me, but to no avail. I could not make the pain go away whilst laying down. Sigh.
I felt annoyed and frustrated. I couldn't sit up all night long! So, I finally caved and took a Lortab. I am not fond of the opiate drugs, in general, I seriously dislike the feeling I get when I am "high", if you will. I could never be a drug addict because I hate the feeling so much. I have to be in a lot of pain to take that stuff, because it is a trade off of unpleasantness for me. So, yes, I was in a lot of pain. Mouth pain really does me in. It makes me depressed on top of everything else.
The Lortab finally kicked in around 3 am and I knew my Plan B was lost...Important Project was not going to get done in the a.m. Rats.
I awoke to my alarm at 7:45 and rolled out of bed. Oh, dear heaven I was tired. Called the dentist, I hate getting my teeth worked on. I don't know why, he rarely causes me pain. (On a side note, if you are interested in a great dentist, mine is incredible).
Off I went for an emergency root canal. I know you are jealous. Due to the short notice, they couldn't do the whole thing and I am stuck with a temporary, which, I was warned, would probably hurt quite a bit the first day.
They did not lie.
Last night I got a text informing me that certain things were due for work. These are things I had forgotten about in the mad dash of pain that was getting ready for photo shoot. And now, they need to be done, well, now. I had good intentions last night. I really did mean to go home and get it done.
But, you know, there's The Small One. She is incredibly persuasive.
She threw fits and chucked things until I paid attention. Ah, the blessed baby, she has her tactics down pat.
But, in reality, I have sorely neglected her of late. (Not in a call DCFS immediately sort of way, chill out) She deserved some attention. So...I didn't do what I ought to have done. I played with my wee lassie instead. Is that bad? Nah, I don't think so.
On to Plan B. I would get up early, get to work, get those alterations done and move onto to Important Project. The Fates? They were thumbing their collective nose at me. Very rude.
I chatted online with a friend last night, for quite some time. Good quality time as I haven't seen her for a while and relationships are important, you know. Shortly after ending the chat, I crawled wearily into bed. And that is when the evil began...
My tooth began to ache. Then to throb. Then my entire jaw started to hurt. I got up and took some ibuprofen and sat up for a bit and the pain subsided. So, again, dragging my weary frame into the bedroom, I crawled into bed. And it began again! The pain, the throbbing, it would not stop. I got up again and again, the pain subsided. I heated up a rice sock and took it to bed with me, but to no avail. I could not make the pain go away whilst laying down. Sigh.
I felt annoyed and frustrated. I couldn't sit up all night long! So, I finally caved and took a Lortab. I am not fond of the opiate drugs, in general, I seriously dislike the feeling I get when I am "high", if you will. I could never be a drug addict because I hate the feeling so much. I have to be in a lot of pain to take that stuff, because it is a trade off of unpleasantness for me. So, yes, I was in a lot of pain. Mouth pain really does me in. It makes me depressed on top of everything else.
The Lortab finally kicked in around 3 am and I knew my Plan B was lost...Important Project was not going to get done in the a.m. Rats.
I awoke to my alarm at 7:45 and rolled out of bed. Oh, dear heaven I was tired. Called the dentist, I hate getting my teeth worked on. I don't know why, he rarely causes me pain. (On a side note, if you are interested in a great dentist, mine is incredible).
Off I went for an emergency root canal. I know you are jealous. Due to the short notice, they couldn't do the whole thing and I am stuck with a temporary, which, I was warned, would probably hurt quite a bit the first day.
They did not lie.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Spring, spring, spring!
Okay, not really, since it is super cold outside and snowed yesterday. But before that it was deliciously warm!!!!
And what does this mean, you may ask? It means it is time to start seeds for my garden! Oh, yes, this is indeed, very exciting.
I love to start seeds. I love to watch the garden grow. Okay, so I don't love digging in the dirt so much, but Mike and The Small One do! And just seeing those little green sprouts fight their way out of the darkness in the little greenhouse in my window brings me an awful lot of joy. I get ridiculously giddy about it, as a matter of fact.
As the economy has tanked and we are a bit low on funds, I will be starting even more seeds than usual this year. Mike has plans for a much larger garden space this year, although we did have quite a bounteous harvest last year. He has plans for an even more bounteous one this year. Much canning will be done in the fall, more than usual!
The Small One loves to be outside and loves to play in the dirt. At her daddy's request, I purchased a hoe, rake and shovel yesterday, in pink, naturally, for the small one to use in her gardening. She has a special outfit to wear as well. It consists of wellies, overalls and a gingham sleeveless shirt. We call it her Farmer Boo outfit. Terribly cute. I need to get her a straw hat to keep the sun off of her very delicate complexion!
Needless to say, I have had quite enough of winter. Gloomy weather on top of gloomy finances do not make a person supremely jolly. At least, not this person!!!!
And what does this mean, you may ask? It means it is time to start seeds for my garden! Oh, yes, this is indeed, very exciting.
I love to start seeds. I love to watch the garden grow. Okay, so I don't love digging in the dirt so much, but Mike and The Small One do! And just seeing those little green sprouts fight their way out of the darkness in the little greenhouse in my window brings me an awful lot of joy. I get ridiculously giddy about it, as a matter of fact.
As the economy has tanked and we are a bit low on funds, I will be starting even more seeds than usual this year. Mike has plans for a much larger garden space this year, although we did have quite a bounteous harvest last year. He has plans for an even more bounteous one this year. Much canning will be done in the fall, more than usual!
The Small One loves to be outside and loves to play in the dirt. At her daddy's request, I purchased a hoe, rake and shovel yesterday, in pink, naturally, for the small one to use in her gardening. She has a special outfit to wear as well. It consists of wellies, overalls and a gingham sleeveless shirt. We call it her Farmer Boo outfit. Terribly cute. I need to get her a straw hat to keep the sun off of her very delicate complexion!
Needless to say, I have had quite enough of winter. Gloomy weather on top of gloomy finances do not make a person supremely jolly. At least, not this person!!!!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Good news? Bad news?
Or maybe just no news.
I would like to post that there is good news going on, but really, I can't think of anything.
I just spent the past two weeks working 65-70 hours each week, trying to finish sample corrections and do the photo shoot for the catalogue. It was mind numbing and so very fatiguing. Really, really makes me wonder why on earth I decided to do this. The entire time it was going on, The Small One was very put out with me, and I can't say I blame her. Bless her little heart, she was bent at mamma for working so much and not paying enough attention to her. I worked at home part of the time, simply because I could not stand to be in my basement studio at the bridal shop any longer. Whilst I attempted to work at home, The Small One would walk up, give me that look, reach down and grab my thread and chuck it across the room. I think she may have wanted some attention. Eventually, I would give up and play with her, which of course, is what she was after. It did result, however, in my having to stay up VERY late to finish things after she had gone to bed. Really, I would rather play with her than spend 30 hours beading a dress I don't even like. But, I suppose we all do what we must...
In other not great news, we are having trouble on the health insurance front. I am uninsurable, Mike is uninsurable (it is none of your business why, so don't even ask), which means we can't get insurance for The Small One, either. We applied for CHIP, but apparently, even my paltry income is too much to qualify. Seriously, gov't aid is broken in this country. You have to be utterly destitute to qualify for anything, and once you reach that level, how in hell are you supposed to get out? No wonder people end up on welfare or gov't assistance forever. There aren't many other options. Ugh, I can't get started or I will end up soapboxing about it for pages and pages. Not a good option. Just makes me mad.
Okay, some good news here then, although it isn't anything important. I am nearly done with my Two-Toned Shrug from fitted knits. Except it isn't two-toned. Just one. Currently grey, but I will be dyeing it when I am finished. I haven't decided what color yet, though. I got some Jo-ann Sensations Kashmira for 90 cents a skein a while ago and I bought a bunch. I love to knit with it, so nice and stretchy and has lovely stitch definition. This is the second sweater I have knit of it, the first being a Maude Louise, which is fabulous, but still needs a dye job and buttons.
I think, after I finish this, I may splurge on some Malabrigo and make a little sweater for The Small One to wear next fall/winter. I also want to get a nice cotton to make her a summer dress, but I am not so up on the cotton yarns, so will have to do some research to figure out what I want to use.
The Small One is a funny little bug. She talks so much now. Okay, she has always been a little chatterbox.
I have no idea where she gets that.
Anyhoo, when she talks now, actual words and phrases come out of her mouth and they are by turns snarky and wise. Well, wise if you are nearly two. She thinks passing gas is utterly hysterical, and woe unto you if you do it near her and don't want anyone to know. She will tell on you. She tells on herself if she does it. Butt tootle is actually what she says and it is hysterical. See, just typing Butt Tootle makes me giggle like a little boy. Daddy tootle is what she says if he does it. Which is funny that she doesn't say, Daddy butt tootle. Just Daddy tootle. If you could here her tiny, wee disney voice say it, you would laugh too. I promise.
The Small One is finally getting into dollies, which is also a crack up. As I mentioned before, she was quite put out with me for working so much, and consequently acted up quite a bit. The result of this is time outs. She got put in time out so many times last week that she eventually just put herself in time out when she knew she had been naughty. (on a funny side note here, right before this I was on Ravelry, the happy knitting website, reading forums and whatnot, where people use the word knotty. I typed knotty instead of naughty in reference to The Small One.) So, Sunday, she was playing with one of her baby dolls and patting it's back and saying shhh, go night night, when all of a sudden she took dolly off of her shoulder looked at her very firmly, said TIME OUT, and parked her in the chair. I nearly died with laughter. I asked if Dolly was naughty and she very solemnly nodded yes.
The Small One, like all little folk, loves to be naked. Or naken, as she calls it. She has finally figured out how to get every single article of clothing off of her body, so we quite frequently find her playing in the nursery completely "naken". Oh, well. I just wish there was more fat on her little frame to keep her warm, as we keep the thermostat lowish in this house.
Her hair is getting quite long now, well the back is anyway. She still has a super mullet. My brother calls her Milly, which is short for Mullet Lilly. (My other brother calls her Lillypop because she is a stick with a big, round head. They are not known for their niceties, my brothers.) I like to put her hair in low pigtails sometimes. But only sometimes, because when I do it, she looks like she is three. Tiny three, but three nonetheless. Especially when she is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Not a baby anymore, that one. She is a kid. Saddens me a wee bit, but she is just so funny and FULL of personality that I adore. I know she is spoiled (oops) but I love her big personality and her bossiness and her complete self possesion. She is an attitudal little girl, but I think it rocks. I am not into the retiring violet kind of girl. The blessed child is not afraid of anything either! I have friends who worry about her around our big dogs, but I don't. They knock her down all the time, but she just gives them a big shove and gets back up. It is hilarious, because they are rather bigger than she is.
Just to give you some perspective on her size. She is nearly 2 and weighs 20 lbs. My friend has a 9 month old child who weighs 24 lbs. She is of average height, just no fat on her wee bones. She is potty training again (let's hope it sticks this time) and when she is wearing her wee tiny skivs (that have to be custom made as they do not make underwear for bums that tiny) her pants won't stay up. Once she is potty trained for real, I am going to have to make a whole new set of pants for her. I can't buy any small enough. She can still wear a 12 month with diapers on, but they are way too short. She is a leggy kid, did not get that from me!
Well, I guess that will do for now.
I should probably go to bed.
Oh, one last thing...
If you visit my blog, even if I don't know you, won't you leave a comment? Unless you are going to be mean and nasty, in which case, go somewhere else.
I would like to post that there is good news going on, but really, I can't think of anything.
I just spent the past two weeks working 65-70 hours each week, trying to finish sample corrections and do the photo shoot for the catalogue. It was mind numbing and so very fatiguing. Really, really makes me wonder why on earth I decided to do this. The entire time it was going on, The Small One was very put out with me, and I can't say I blame her. Bless her little heart, she was bent at mamma for working so much and not paying enough attention to her. I worked at home part of the time, simply because I could not stand to be in my basement studio at the bridal shop any longer. Whilst I attempted to work at home, The Small One would walk up, give me that look, reach down and grab my thread and chuck it across the room. I think she may have wanted some attention. Eventually, I would give up and play with her, which of course, is what she was after. It did result, however, in my having to stay up VERY late to finish things after she had gone to bed. Really, I would rather play with her than spend 30 hours beading a dress I don't even like. But, I suppose we all do what we must...
In other not great news, we are having trouble on the health insurance front. I am uninsurable, Mike is uninsurable (it is none of your business why, so don't even ask), which means we can't get insurance for The Small One, either. We applied for CHIP, but apparently, even my paltry income is too much to qualify. Seriously, gov't aid is broken in this country. You have to be utterly destitute to qualify for anything, and once you reach that level, how in hell are you supposed to get out? No wonder people end up on welfare or gov't assistance forever. There aren't many other options. Ugh, I can't get started or I will end up soapboxing about it for pages and pages. Not a good option. Just makes me mad.
Okay, some good news here then, although it isn't anything important. I am nearly done with my Two-Toned Shrug from fitted knits. Except it isn't two-toned. Just one. Currently grey, but I will be dyeing it when I am finished. I haven't decided what color yet, though. I got some Jo-ann Sensations Kashmira for 90 cents a skein a while ago and I bought a bunch. I love to knit with it, so nice and stretchy and has lovely stitch definition. This is the second sweater I have knit of it, the first being a Maude Louise, which is fabulous, but still needs a dye job and buttons.
I think, after I finish this, I may splurge on some Malabrigo and make a little sweater for The Small One to wear next fall/winter. I also want to get a nice cotton to make her a summer dress, but I am not so up on the cotton yarns, so will have to do some research to figure out what I want to use.
The Small One is a funny little bug. She talks so much now. Okay, she has always been a little chatterbox.
I have no idea where she gets that.
Anyhoo, when she talks now, actual words and phrases come out of her mouth and they are by turns snarky and wise. Well, wise if you are nearly two. She thinks passing gas is utterly hysterical, and woe unto you if you do it near her and don't want anyone to know. She will tell on you. She tells on herself if she does it. Butt tootle is actually what she says and it is hysterical. See, just typing Butt Tootle makes me giggle like a little boy. Daddy tootle is what she says if he does it. Which is funny that she doesn't say, Daddy butt tootle. Just Daddy tootle. If you could here her tiny, wee disney voice say it, you would laugh too. I promise.
The Small One is finally getting into dollies, which is also a crack up. As I mentioned before, she was quite put out with me for working so much, and consequently acted up quite a bit. The result of this is time outs. She got put in time out so many times last week that she eventually just put herself in time out when she knew she had been naughty. (on a funny side note here, right before this I was on Ravelry, the happy knitting website, reading forums and whatnot, where people use the word knotty. I typed knotty instead of naughty in reference to The Small One.) So, Sunday, she was playing with one of her baby dolls and patting it's back and saying shhh, go night night, when all of a sudden she took dolly off of her shoulder looked at her very firmly, said TIME OUT, and parked her in the chair. I nearly died with laughter. I asked if Dolly was naughty and she very solemnly nodded yes.
The Small One, like all little folk, loves to be naked. Or naken, as she calls it. She has finally figured out how to get every single article of clothing off of her body, so we quite frequently find her playing in the nursery completely "naken". Oh, well. I just wish there was more fat on her little frame to keep her warm, as we keep the thermostat lowish in this house.
Her hair is getting quite long now, well the back is anyway. She still has a super mullet. My brother calls her Milly, which is short for Mullet Lilly. (My other brother calls her Lillypop because she is a stick with a big, round head. They are not known for their niceties, my brothers.) I like to put her hair in low pigtails sometimes. But only sometimes, because when I do it, she looks like she is three. Tiny three, but three nonetheless. Especially when she is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Not a baby anymore, that one. She is a kid. Saddens me a wee bit, but she is just so funny and FULL of personality that I adore. I know she is spoiled (oops) but I love her big personality and her bossiness and her complete self possesion. She is an attitudal little girl, but I think it rocks. I am not into the retiring violet kind of girl. The blessed child is not afraid of anything either! I have friends who worry about her around our big dogs, but I don't. They knock her down all the time, but she just gives them a big shove and gets back up. It is hilarious, because they are rather bigger than she is.
Just to give you some perspective on her size. She is nearly 2 and weighs 20 lbs. My friend has a 9 month old child who weighs 24 lbs. She is of average height, just no fat on her wee bones. She is potty training again (let's hope it sticks this time) and when she is wearing her wee tiny skivs (that have to be custom made as they do not make underwear for bums that tiny) her pants won't stay up. Once she is potty trained for real, I am going to have to make a whole new set of pants for her. I can't buy any small enough. She can still wear a 12 month with diapers on, but they are way too short. She is a leggy kid, did not get that from me!
Well, I guess that will do for now.
I should probably go to bed.
Oh, one last thing...
If you visit my blog, even if I don't know you, won't you leave a comment? Unless you are going to be mean and nasty, in which case, go somewhere else.
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