Jeremy

This isn't a happy post, unfortunately. Nor is it a sarcastic or a witty one, because that would have been a lot more enjoyable for me to write. Actually, this particular blog post is kind of an "in memorium". And it probably won't be important to anybody, but for some reason it is important to me.

I went through a miscarriage this month. Jeremy is the name that my husband and I picked out for our baby. We don't know for sure that it was a boy, but . . . that's just what we feel. And we've been calling it a him.

I got pregnant in April after about a year or so of me being off birth control. I'm not really surprised it had taken us so long, since my husband's job requires him to be away from home literally almost 90% of the time, and we actually had to make special arrangements for me to go with him so we could conceive. And I did.

I took a pregnancy test in May which confirmed I was pregnant, and my husband was absolutely thrilled. He couldn't stop smiling, he posted it immediately on Facebook, and told everyone in the family that he was going to be a daddy again.

About a week later went in for my first prenatal appointment. I was almost 9 weeks along, and despite me being so early in the pregnancy, my doctor did an ultrasound anyway. And there it was, just a tiny little shape tucked in there, and yet despite him being so young we still got to hear the heartbeat. And due, of all days, on Christmas Eve.

All this time, and over the next couple weeks, we made plans. I had the names all picked out if it was a boy or a girl, although we and most everyone else still thought it was a boy. We figured out where to put the crib in our cramped bedroom, got it figured out how to work around Pete's work schedule when it got time for the baby to be born, and even got it settled with my doctor that since I'd had problems with my last labor and delivery, this time we'd just schedule a c-section.

Long story short, I started spotting and then cramping about a week after my appointment. I called my doctor in a controlled panic when the spotting hadn't stopped after a couple days, and I was put on bed rest for the weekend. Unfortunately, at that point it was already too late. After a very long afternoon of tests and ultrasounds at my doctor's office, it was confirmed that I had miscarried. The baby was too small for me being 11 weeks along, and there was no heartbeat.

I had called my mom the day before to have her come and be with me for my appointment because Pete was at work. And I had bawled to her on the phone when I did, because I just had this horrible, sinking feeling that I had lost our baby. I sobbed about it, trying to be quiet so I didn't make Pete worry, but he caught me anyway and just told me over and over that it was ok, and I tried so hard to try and be hopeful for him.

Telling Pete that it was a miscarriage was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. I didn't want to tell him. He'd been texting all day, asking how things were going, keeping up with what was going on, and for a few minutes I just didn't have the heart to tell him that we'd lost our little one. When I talked to him on the phone a little while later when I had some privacy, it was undoubtedly the worst phone call I've ever had. The sheer . . . grief in his voice made my heart break, even more than it already had broken.

I had let myself get excited for our baby. With our first child, it was easy to hold back a lot of the emotion and attachment, to wait until she was here until I let myself fall in love with her. I wanted to make sure we would actually get her before I loved her, just in case. So I wouldn't be so hurt if we lost her. But we got her, and I loved her, and she was perfect and healthy, and she still is. It was harder this time to keep emotion out of it. I had already had a baby, I knew what to expect and I had already gone through this before. So it was easier to love the little life I was growing inside me, the little piece of me and my husband that we were looking forward to.

So it was devastating for me to have lost him. It hasn't hit me as hard and as abruptly as it hit everyone else. Pete was still talking about it as if everything would be fine, even the night before my appointment. But I was very worried long before I got confirmation from my doctor that I had miscarried. I had an entire week to dwell over the possibilities, and due to my extremely rational, often pessimistic mindset, I had plenty of time to consider and even expect the worst. Even though I hoped, and prayed, that everything would be ok, I still tried to prepare myself. Just in case.

I was doing ok, and Pete was doing ok, until this week when my sister in law had her first baby, a little boy. Pete got to see and hold him yesterday morning before he went back to work, and I got to hold him yesterday evening. It didn't surprise me that both of us have suffered a sort of relapse. Pete mostly. I've been so overwhelmed from my body going through this and even being in the hospital because of it last week that I haven't had a lot of time to be able to just think about it. To just let myself feel the emotions I need to feel to be able to move on again.

I guess this post is a part of that. I tried to write it over a week ago, I tried to just get it all out, but I couldn't. I couldn't find a way to say what I wanted to. But last night, Pete and I were talking, and something he said made it easier for me. Both he and I have been independently struggling and wondering if, with how young the baby was, if he really was someone or if he was still just an empty body waiting for a spirit. He died shortly after my first appointment with my doctor, so that heartbeat that we heard in her office ended within days or even hours of us hearing it. And both times, he was very small, and only measured about 7 weeks. Is that long enough for a body to exist before they are a real person? Did we actually have a little child in there, a baby with an identity and a mind and a character all his own, or was it just an empty shell waiting until it was more mature before it got its soul?

We don't know. And that was what was tormenting my husband the most. So he asked me if we could name him. For me, it gives a little bit more of something, I don't know what, but something to my own grief and mourning, to be able to miss and feel the loss of a real person, not just the possibility of someone. Someone real, with a name, that I can wish I could have known and held and been able to watch grow up.

We named him Jeremy. I suggested two names to Pete, and we both liked Jeremy. I had actually thought of this name before, on the day of my appointment with my doctor, and had considered writing it on the ultrasound pictures we got during my first prenatal checkup. And now I can for certain.

We had a son. A little boy named Jeremy that we never got to actually see or hold or have as our child, but we was ours, and we miss him. And we loved him. We were looking forward to having our Christmas baby, and we would have given a whole lot to have been able to have him. I just wish he could have been able to know his daddy. To have that relationship with the most amazing man I know. That's the worst part of the whole thing, is that he is missing out on a family that would have loved him dearly.

We love you, Jeremy. And I'm so sorry.

Things I Do That Pete Finds Annoying/Endearing

All of us have those traits, those absolutely idiotic quirks or habits that drive our near and dear completely insane. And here is a list of mine that annoy Pete, although thankfully he can usually find something endearing about the situation to make him not want to kill me.

#1 - Shoes. I am a shoe girl. I love shoes, I think they are fabulous and wonderful and no matter how fat I get, my shoes still fit. Same thing with purses and jewelry. I still fit the earrings that I wore in junior high! Anyway, yeah. I have easily 30 pairs of shoes, scattered all over in our closet and on the floor in front of the closet. Basically anywhere near the closet is a shoe deathtrap. However, I think Pete kinda likes the little squeal I make when I see a new pair of shoes I must have. Until he realizes he has to pay for them.

#2 - My side vs. His side. Of the bed, that is. See, when he's on the road, I can think of no valid reason that I can't just shove all the crap on the bed over on his side at the end of the night when my eyes fuzz over so bad I can't see. That is, until he comes home. And has a mountain-sized mound of crap all over his side of the bed. But don't worry, he gets even. Because he just shoves it all back over on my side.

#3 - Hobbies. I have . . . a lot of hobbies. I do crafts like crazy, including everything from sewing to coloring. Yes, coloring. With princess coloring books and colored pencils. And these hobbies of mine take up a LOT of space. I could fill a room with all of the crafting/hobby crap I have. I have a guitar, a box of items to be used when I someday have the vineyard kitchen I want, boxes of movie ticket stubs and Sammy's old nursery drawings she brought home from church, scads of scrapbooking stuff. It is truly insane. And yet . . . I honestly use all of it. I don't think Pete has found a good side to this yet.

#4 - Freak out at electronics. This happens a lot. I do something to my computer or phone that I didn't want to do, and I immediately throw a whiny tantrum that potentially escalates to sulking, stressing, and even the silent treatment. It doesn't annoy him to have to fix it, usually. It bugs him when I throw a fit at the problem. But then he gets to call me a dork.

#5 - Making him render an opinion. "What color should I do?" "Which shoes look better with this?" "How should I do my hair?" "Does that match?" "What should I make for dinner?" His answer? "I don't know." "I don't care." Do I let him get away with that? Psh. Nope. I bug and nag and pester and annoy until he heaves an annoyed sigh and I get an answer. Drives him nuts!

#6 - When I randomly wander off at the grocery store. We're walking down an aisle, I see something shiny, or cheap, or tasty, or whatever, and without a word I just suddenly start veering off in a different direction to beeline at what I just saw. And right after I disappear, Pete realizes I'm gone and has to go find me. It happens ALL THE TIME. He's taken to standing behind me while I push the cart with an arm on either side of me and holding on to the cart as well. People probably think he's being really cute with me. Nope. He's keeping me from wandering off. I'm like a psycho bunny.

Now . . . there are also a few things about me that he finds endearing. I'm putting these mostly because I can't think of any more things I do that consistently annoy him (and he's denying 3 out of 6 of the above things). I would ask him, but he's half asleep. And I would be fulfilling #5 if I woke him up and asked him.

#1 - I ask questions about video games. I've discussed before my absolute lack of ability when it comes to video and computer games. I have not improved. But for some reason it really tickles his fancy when I ask questions about something he is an expert at. It's the same with Star Wars and Star Trek. Now, I'm a total Star Wars Fangirl, but Pete is a bit more knowledgeable about the stuff that happened before, after, and in between the movies. And he's kinda a Trekkie too. And I think he really digs being the source of knowledge for me.

#2 - I am a klutz. No, really. I can list 3 spectacular face plants right off the top of my head, and I can even tell you which shoes were at fault each time. And two of those were in public! I also injure myself on a fairly regular basis, especially when in proximity to the stove. I have a wicked awesome steam burn scar on my wrist from one of those escapades. But rather than finding me a hazard, Pete just finds it slightly adorable at how accident prone I am. Especially since that means he often gets to roll his eyes at my shoes.

#3 - I talk to myself and lip-sync with my headphones in. I think the rockstar lip-syncing makes him laugh the most. Oftentimes when I make dinner I do so with my MP3 player blasted and wearing my noise-cancelling SkullCandy headphones, and I can't resist that. So I lip-sync along quite enthusiastically, and apparently that is a really funny thing to walk in on. And yeah, I talk to myself. More often than not calling myself an idiot for doing a stupid. He likes to listen to me argue with myself.

#4 - My giggle. Apparently I have a signature giggle. The kind that even when I text *giggling* on my phone, Pete says he can hear it. I know I giggle all the time, I have structured my life so that I have plenty of opportunity for kicks and giggles at every opportunity, and I guess it has paid off. Because I have a Pete-approved giggle, and he gets a dorky little smile on his face every time he hears it.

Next time I think I'm going to have to make a list of the things Pete does that I find annoying/endearing . . . this could be so fun . . .

Stalkers, Ribbons, Messy Husbands

Why, hello blogger.com. I've missed you. How have you been? I've been good, although I have something interesting happening right now. I sort of have a stalker! Cool, huh?! Or at the very least, an extremely persistent man with a really big crush on me. Yeah. It's been an interesting week. Also, on a happy note, Pete's been home this week! I now know, for darn sure, that he is the messy one in this relationship. I'm not a neat freak, psh, no way, but when you look in our bedroom, basically everything on the floor is Pete's. Yeah. Really. Pajamas, pants, towel, robe, shoes, everything. My messes tend to be in the places where I put the things that don't have a place to be put away. My nightstand, the shelf my jewelry box sits on, the end of the bed when I don't wanna clean it off. But the stuff all over the place like it was dropped there by a kid on his way in the house . . . yep. That's my husband.

In other news, I've been playing with ribbon, getting to know a new vacuum, buying movies, and laughing hysterically with my mom and sister! They pretty much totally rock. And the vacuum cost about $1600. And Disney's Beauty and the Beast is officially one of my very, very favorite cartoons. It's top 3 for sure. Another is Little Mermaid. Yes, I'm a Disney freak, thanks for asking! And as for the ribbon, I spent a very irresponsible amount of money at Michael's on it, and some fake flowers. Going to Michael's with my sister in law or cousin is a very bad idea.

I wish to put to everyone's attention that it is a great injustice that people can't reach their own backs. I mean, really. I've never taken any massage classes or whatever, but I've been told I have magic hands so I must not be too terrible. And I have one of those backs that is just stupid and whines constantly for attention. But can I reach it to appease it and therefore make my day a little better? Noooooo. INJUSTICE, I SAY!!! *Pouts*

Ok, so does anyone recall the last time I sprained my ankle like several months ago and it took weeks and weeks to heal? Yeah. *Sigh* We're going on over a month now this time around. I also have a wicked bruise still on my knee and a scar on my shin that still has nerve damage around it! I have some of the coolest injuries EVER! My steam burn scar on my wrist and my trampoline spring scar on my finger are pretty awesome. I wish I could remember how I got some of the others.

Random thought of the night: My laptop bag is boring. Awhile ago, I accidentally dripped purple nail polish on it, and it kinda looks cool! I'm thinking of adding more "accidental" drips to it. Thoughts, comments, suggestions? I could always do some kind of pattern, or keep it random. It's been on my do to list for awhile now, I just need to actually have the free time to do it. The whole ribbon fest had me busy all last week and cleaning up after another child *snicker* had me busy this week. I have a goal! Maybe I'll do it Sunday. Sounds like a soothing Sunday afternoon project.

I could keep rambling on about random subjects, and believe me I could go on for hours, but I have to make my bed. *Makes a face* My bed hates me, and so does my crappy mattress pad. It's a good thing it was cheap, or I'd be seriously distressed. And so, off I go to tackle a bed. Goodbye darlings, have a lovely night!

Clumsy Me

Hiya! Ok, I'm going to try and keep this blog short since it is after 1:30 in the morning and I really should go to sleep. But I've been having fun today going onto imdb.com and looking up trivia on all the movies, and I wandered over to the Lord of the Rings movies and suddenly had the urge to watch them! I watched half of Fellowship earlier with my hubby while we folded laundry, but then he pretty much zonked out so I figured I'd be courteous and wait for him. I forgot how much I love LotR! It is the perfect movie trilogy, it has the big huge main plot, and all the little side stories and subplots, and every genre there is! Action, adventure, romance, fantasy, horror, everything! It's so cool! There's even a bit of foreign film in there if you count all the Elvish they speak.

I also discovered that they are finally coming out with the next Narnia movie in December. I love the Narnia books and for the most part I loved the other two movies. I liked Lion better since it stayed much truer to the books, and Caspian pretty much shredded the book and created the most awful romantic subplot between Susan and Caspian. So very, very wrong. But they were both great, so I'm very excited for Voyage of the Dawn Treader, although very sad since Peter and Susan won't be in them anymore. Especially Peter, since William Moseley is a hottie that could be my husband's twin, no joke. Yeah, I'm lucky. They're only four months apart in age, too, how funny is that?

So, you wanna hear what I did for fun today? Here's a bit of background. #1, I have completely screwed up ankles, and I do mean screwed up. If I ever have to have a body part replaced, it will be my ankles. #2, I have been ridiculously clumsy the past 2 days for reasons unknown. #3, it was a pretty big step down. I was digging a hole around one of those green metal fence posts that you wire fencing too so we could take it out. After finally digging deep enough (and realizing that there was no cement at the bottom of it like I though, as demonstrated when my father in law just tugged it out like it was stuck in runny pudding) and getting it out, I was going back inside with my husband and as I was stepping down from the dirt to the patio, my ankle totally freaked out on me and it got sprained and twisted at the same time. That's talent, right there. And typically, since one ankle is competely out of commission, I landed on my other knee and I now have a very impressive scrape that covers my whole kneecap and there are still little bits of dirt that I haven't been able to dig out yet. Left ankle, useless, right knee, almost useless, both of them, PAINFUL!

Here's the funny part. I have a pair of black boots, the ones that have a chunky squarish heel about 3 inches tall, and they zip up almost to my knee, kinda like the ones in the picture, just a titch taller heel and longer up the leg. I call them hooker boots, and I love them. They are the only shoes I can walk in with my stupid ankle right now, because there is a stiff support around the bottom half of my ankle, and they are form-fitting enough that I get plenty of support to keep my ankle braced and my foot stable. I've been sitting around all day wearing canary yellow gym shorts and calf-high black pleather hooker boots. Sexy, huh? At least I haven't been whining about it, except for right now, since nobody is reading this anyway. It really does hurt like the dickens, and the dumb bandaids won't stick to my stupid knee! And the kicker is that I don't even have bad swelling or any bruising on my ankle at all. If I'm going to suffer, I want visible proof, people! Stupid ankles.

Ooh, I just thought of another thing! My sister in law found a little scrapbooking store yesterday and she took me there because they were having a sale on paper, 10 for $1.00! Yeah, I spent $14 and change. *Sheepish grin* I won't need to go scrapbook paper shopping for a long time, that's all I'm gonna say. But I've got some of the cutest stuff!!!!!

Other than that, the only things worth noting are that I cleaned my room today, our laundry is folded and put away, and for the Fourth of July I'm gonna dye my hair red. Not clown red (although sometime I'll have to tell you about this one time in high school . . . ) just an auburn red. I've always wondered what I'd look like with different colored hair, and I want to try red, lighter blonde, and dark brown. I decided red is next, since it's patriotic. I'm also debating doing a blue streak with Kool-Aid (yes, it is possible) but I'm not sure my boss would approve. Still deliberating. Anyway, that's all, I'm gonna go to bed now and try to figure out how to modestly wear hooker boots to church tomorrow. G'night!

Rain Puddles and Special Moments

I played in puddles today. It rained most of the day up at my parent's house and my daughter was outside in it helping Grampy plant trowels in the garden. Yes, you read right. Trowels. So after she came in all wet, I decided on an impromtu puddle-jumping session. Now, normally I'm a bit picky about the puddles I jump in, but I wasnt' today. The biggest puddle was the dip in the gutter at the end of the driveway. So my mom, my siblings, and my daughter and I were splashing icky water all over each other until we were completely soaked, and we didn't mind a bit. The pants I have all are a bit too long, so they hung partly over my feet and acted as perfect scoopers to send big waves of water when I swung my leg through the water. It was fun! Their dog Miko, a white Miniature American Eskimo with a curious patch of yellowish fur low on his back, was more gray than white by the time we were done. So while the kids trooped into the house for baths, I gave the poor dog a bath with the hose outside. He did not appreciate that AT ALL. And he kinda looks like he's been through a losing battle with a blender. All his fur is matted so bad you can see clear down to his skin. Poor puppy.

Anyway, so that was probably the highlight of my day. Earlier we watched a movie I've added to my Must Get list. It's called Leap Year and has Amy Adams and a guy whose name I cannot remember, and it was really cute. So I now have 5 movies currently on my list, at least until I remember any other ones. Blindside, Shrek 4, Benny and Joon, Leap Year, and the new Alice in Wonderland. I just saw that one with my sister-in-law this week and I liked it. I don't like most of Tim Burton's movies, and I haven't seen a lot of them, but I love Johnny Depp so I went for it. Johnny Depp may just be my favorite actor of all time. There is not a role he cannot play, and the more crazy and over-the-top, the better. He is simply amazing. And freaking hot as well, which only improves things.

Also today I made chocolate covered strawberries with my sisters and youngest brother. We had fun, and it has been decreed that I am the master at chocolate covered strawberries and making garlic bread (yes, the garlic bread was a completely random point, but I made that tonight too and I have my own "secret" recipe for the perfect garlic butter topping). Also, I have invented a new delicacy. Strawberry Volcanoes. That's when you cut the tops off of strawberries, put a circle of melted chocolate on a flat surface (like a pan or something), set the berry flat side down on the chocolate so it covers the bottom of the berry, then with a spatula or fork or whatever, drizzle chocolate over the top of the strawberry generously. It kinda looks like a volcano. And Chocolate Strawberry Mountains are just the topless strawberries dipped in chocolate. Hey, the more chocolate the better! But none of this cheap, crappy chocolate you get in the baking aisle that come in those plastic bags that have pictures of different candies on the front. You must use a really good chocolate. My favorite is the plain chocolate Symphony bars. Hershey's chocolate chips or bars, or if you're of a mind to be a tad more expensive, Lindt Extra Creamy bars would probably work fabulously as well. Add that chocolate to perfectly perfect strawberries, and you have achieved heaven in a candy.

Let's see, other than that, I went to the store with my mom and sisters today and finally bought a new floofah (my lingo for loofah). One of the dogs chewed up my old one two weeks ago (the turds) and I've been needing to get one ever since and I finally did! And I got an extra for my travel bag. Yay me!

Oh, and I have two more things to report. The first is that when we were out playing in the rain today, a train was coming by the house. My parent's house is right across the street from where the train tracks are, and my daughter loves to watch it go by. So my dad took her over closer to the tracks to see it better, and it was just the perfect photographic moment. It was raining, so the light was soft and pretty and bright colors stood out great. They were holding hands and watching the train, and one thing that is kinda cool is that my grandpa, my dad's dad, loved trains. He had a model train set put up in a room in their basement with a whole landscape that he built, and it was wonderful. Trains were his thing. So we got a great photographic moment there. Grampy and granddaughter watching the train go by, holding hands. It was so cute. I think there's a good Father's Day present right there.

The last thing is that my hubby got a letter today. It's a letter that he wrote to himself Senior year of high school for an assignment that they said they would send out five years later. That would be now. After quite a bit of pouting and threats, he finally let me read it. And although I am sworn to secrecy about what it says, it made me smile. In it there is one part that says that he doesn't care about anything else as long as he's married to me and keeping me happy. It was kind of a blast to the past to our dating days, and I miss those days. We had lots of fun and we didn't have to be adults yet. I was talking to my mom today, and if couples didn't have to worry about money, marriages would be so much easier. It's being the adult that sucks when you get married, not the marriage or your spouse. I've said before that I was completely ready to be married, even though I was only 18. And I was. It was being a responsible adult I wasn't ready for. Bounced checks and car payments and overdue rent. The love, however, I was always ready for.

And on that note, I'm going to do my calendar (what exactly is the point of calendars if you don't write down what you do that day? Calendars have kind of become my mini diaries) and read the next chapter in my scriptures (I'm on David and Goliath, I'm excited) then kiss my husband and go to sleep. Sounds like a plan to me.

Sickie Sickie

You wanna know what I hate? Being sick. You know what I hate even more about being sick? When it hurts.

I had a sore throat last Wednesday, and it has escalated since then until I was finally prompted to visit and InstaCare this morning. I was looking at my reflection in the mirror (I looked like death, not even warmed over) and had a sudden wonderment if my excruciating painful sore throat might be tonsilitis. I looked it up online and I have all the symptoms, so I figured getting some antibiotics in me ASAP would be a pretty good idea.

So on a Sunday morning with me in my pajama pants still looking like death-not-warmed-over we took a jaunt to the doctor's office and paid a visit to Dr. Starbucks. No, that's not his name. I don't remember his name, but when he was checking my incredibly swollen glands I smelled coffee. Since neither I nor my husband drink coffee, it must have been Dr. Starbucks. He was really nice though, and aside from the incredibly painful double q-tip swab that felt like the entire back of my throat had come off, it was one of the most pleasant doctors office visits I have ever had. Except for the $75 fee that will be refunded when we turn in our financial aid form. That part sucked.

Anywho, I didn't get a prescription because Dr. Starbucks thought it would turn out to be strep throat, but it wasn't, so he thinks it is a virus that mimics strep. So after leaving we took another jaunt to Walmart to get Sudafed, the "good stuff" that you have to show your ID to get. I'm not really feeling a difference yet, but it's only been . . . 15 or so hours. The part that sucks beyond sucking is that NOTHING will make my sore throat hurt less! I tried ibuprofen, I tried Tylenol, I tried two other cold medicines, and I tried Aleve. NOTHING!!! Do you know how much it hurts to cough and swallow when it feels like you have enormous ruptured blisters lining the back of your throat? The only thing I have found that eased that pain slightly is honey, so I've been practically drinking it out of the bottle. Ok, not really, I'm dripping it on my finger and sucking it off, but I'm still consuming more honey right now than I usually do in a month or more. I'm very glad I got an extra bottle last week, we'll be needing it. So if anyone out there has a miraculous rememdy for a sore throat, I would love to hear it!

So, here I sit, alternating between a cold sweat, normal temperature, and a hot sweat, with my throat burning and stinging, my nose stuffed to the rafters, and a rather irritating itch on my back, deciding how bad it would be to mix Aleve with ibuprofen. Probably bad, huh? Yeah. *Pout*

I think it's time for bed. I'm going to call in sick for work tomorrow (I cannot express enough how much I love my job. One of the reasons is that they actually don't want you to come in if you're sick. I LOVE my job!!!) and perhaps the day after, depending on how I feel in the morning. If it is anything like now, I will be staying home for two days.

Ooh, before I forget, my handsome hubby is starting school tomorrow! He's going to get a degree in Computer Science and starts his first two classes tomorrow. He's been excited about it for a couple weeks, we got him new shoes and pants and a new backpack and a new laptop so he can do his online class. We have a couple laptops that we have adopted, but he needed a good one for school with a really nice battery. So yay for my husband!!!!

Yeah, I'm gonna go now. I'm going to finish this episode of NCIS, imbibe some more honey, and go off into a painless oblivion. *Crossing fingers* Night, all!

Kid Shows, Libraries, Families

Here I sit on a Sunday evening watching kid shows on TV. The temptation of scrambled eggs was too much for my daughter and she abandoned me. It is amazing how many kids shows I am now familiar with. I knew a lot before, I loved watching kids shows when I was little, but there are a lot of new ones now. My favorite is Sesame Street. Yes, you read that right, my favorite. I love the guest stars that come on for the big word of the day. I've seen Jake Gyllenhal, Heidi Klum, Jimmy Fallon, Greg Kinnear, Cameron Diaz, Brendan Fraser, Kobe Bryant, all sorts of people. It is hysterical to watch. Most of the people on that list are funny anyway, but I wouldn't think Heidi Klum or Kobe Bryant would take to puppets like that!

You know, there are four laundry baskets practically overflowing at the end of my bed, and the thought that I need to fold it all is quite daunting. And the laundry hamper is already half full again! *Wails* A parent's work is never done.

So I just left to go make myself some eggs (yes, I succumbed) and when I came back Sammy had left some notes for me. She apparently found the M for Mommy on the keyboard, then the B for Baby, F for something (fish?), V for something (violin?), and then she found the first letter of her name and I had an entire screen full of nothing but that letter. A parent's work is never done indeed. Now she's adjusting the lamp shade on Daddy's side of the bed while she gets shortbread cookie crumbs all over his pillow. Strange child.

Earlier today we were all sitting on the bed, and started jabbering up a storm and waving her hands around. It took me a minute, but I finally figured out that she was doing the action songs we taught her. The Three Little Ducks and Three Little Monkeys. She loves holding up her fingers for the ducks and monkeys, and using her hand as a beak when she says, "Quack quack quack!" And she loves doing the daddy duck quack with both arms. Her favorite part of the monkey song is when the alligator SNAPS (slap your hands together) that monkey right out of that TREE! She knows the tree part is coming and she shouts that out every time.

You know, I work at the best place. I work at a library, which I have always wanted to do because I LOVE books and reading and figured it didn't get better than working at a library. Little did I know that reading books is the last thing you do as a librarian, but hey, what did I know? Anyway, the job is only half of why I love it so much. I work with the best people in the world. And not just in my library, but all of the branches in the county. They really are awesome, and the best ones work at my branch. With all the craziness and emotions this week from my cousin-in-law's death, my work has been nothing but supportive. They've offered to move around schedules to accomodate the funeral and viewing, and everyone has asked how I, my family, and his family are doing. This cousing also worked at another library in the county, so a lot of the county employees knew him. I don't know yet, but I am 100% certain that tomorrow I am going to have an e-mail about him and a fund to send his family flowers in my inbox. It is very rare to be able to say this, but I really do love my job.

I also love my little family. My husband, my daughter, and my dog. They are all so sweet and cute and funny, and in my husband's case, handsome and sexy. We've been teaching my daughter to say and do all sorts of fun things. One of our recent favorites is she does a double thumbs up and says, "Awesome!" It comes out "Awe-dom!" but it's adorable anyway. My husband just giggles when she does it. I taught her I love you, and she can count up to five, she just never starts at one. It's always 2, 2, 3, 4, 5. We can't seem to get the concept of the word "one" across.

Ok, I think I'm done sending completely random paragraphs out into the void today. Maybe I'll try musing, I have 8 quotes or story ideas on my phone that I need to put on paper or on the computer. Have a lovely evening, audience.