Lovin' the bathtimes

J adores baths. He is a real water-baby now. Odd, since he used to hate bathtime so vehemently. Now, he will just lie down in the tub and flatly refuse to move. Even after all of the water has been drained out and he's shivering with cold. He will fight all efforts to remove him from the tub.

T: Do you want to sleep there?
J: Yeah!

J's Uncle C & Auntie L gave him some bathtime presents for Christmas this year. He loves his new toys (Octipals), and his new towel too. He loves to run about the house in the towel before and after his bath, and will insist on "Towel" before he gets taken to the tub.

Here are some pictures of J during and after bathtime.

Thought for the day

If other people weren't such jerks, I would not need to firebomb their houses.

Really, it's their own fault.

Cars, tears, and grilled cheese sandwiches

The car is demised. Or at least extremely ill. I hope it can be fixed for relatively low cost. It has served me well for many many years and has depreciated accordingly. We may need to replace rather than repair. We shall soon see. In the meantime, getting to and from work should be an interesting experience.

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You have not truly appreciated a grilled cheese sandwich until you have watched a small boy attempt to eat one with a spoon. Most enjoyoable.

Tonight, J also tried to eat banana pieces with a spoon. The spoon is the utensil of choice, apparently. Fun to play with, too!

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J only cried for about two minutes tonight. He was exhausted. He wouldn't even let me finish storytime, and just insisted on bed. He was still unimpressed to be put down without the customary snuggles, but things are improving. Hopefully it will keep getting better over time.

How can instinct be incorrect?

Every instinct I have tells me that I should pick up my son and comfort him when he cries. Every instinct I have tells me that if he wants me, I should go to him. I want J to know that I am there for him, and that I will always be there when he needs me. I want him to feel safe and secure and loved.

I love my son. I love holding him, rocking him, singing to him, kissing him. I love snuggling him to sleep at night and reassuring him. He has said that he needs this, and I have been happy to meet his needs.

But now, he has started to awaken through the night, to refuse to be put down to sleep at all, and to demand constant cuddles. H and I can't get any sleep, and we can't help but feel that our son should not sleep in the bed with us, even though he really wants to and we don't particularly mind cuddling him all night long.

Tonight, I read J some books before bed. Then I cuddled him and his teddy bears until he was nice and calm. And then I picked him up and moved him to his crib, despite his protests. I laid him down, kissed his head, said goodnight, and left the room. And J screamed.

I went downstairs and cried.

J is still in his crib, quiet but awake. He has been quiet but awake for quite some time now. My child does not know how to fall asleep on his own, because I have failed to teach him. And I feel emotionally drained and like a bad parent, because I have failed him in this.

Tonight, I will not pick up J when he awakens. I will hold my ground. I will not be manipulated by my child.

And it will hurt. And I will cry. But at the end of the night, God willing, I will emerge victorious. I will be the parent in this scenario.

But all I will want to do is hold my son and comfort him ... it's going to be a long night ...

Mishmash

H, who has been a very good boy all year long, is getting a 42" foosball table from Santa. This will be very handy. The basement is going to get finished this year, and the foosball table will go down there. Obviously. Between that and my dartboard, we should be able to set up a handy little games area. Cool!

Did I mention how much I love sales? It was one of those blue-light specials, and I just happened to be in the right place at the right time and was able to grab it for $25!

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On a less positive note, I have another kidney infection. The doctor actually thinks it may be a stone. In any event, bring on the antibiotics. This is most icky. Hurts quite a bit.

I've also had a muscle spasm in my neck and a resultant headache for several days. Feels awful. Pain meds aren't touching it, 'cause the muscle spasm has to go away first. Muscle relaxants haven't touched it either, though. Just tried a nice jetted bath, and I'm going to relax on the wet heating pad to see if it will ease this terrible knot out. It feels like a big lump in the neck right by the base of the skull. No wonder my head hurts.

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On to other things. I've started my next course. Economics is not particularly riveting, but I'm doing my best. Working on a multiple choice quiz:

If A and B are substitutes, what will an increase in the price of A lead to?

(a) A positive cross elasticity value for the two products
(b) A negative cross elasticity value for the two products
(c) T falling asleep over her Economics textbooks
(d) T gouging out her eyes with her pen so she has something else to do

I hope this gets a little better as the course progresses. It's hard enough to find motivation to study when the material is really interesting. This is just a bit dry. But at least it's relevant ... unlike that silly course I took in spring! So at least this is a bit better than was that one.

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Can't wait for Christmas. I hope J likes all his presents!

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

I love sales!

We have been coveting this for quite some time. Tonight, we found that the price had just been reduced to just under $60 (including GST). Nice!

It will go in our kitchen. I am most enthused. This year, we will enjoy a pretty fire as we eat our breakfast on Christmas morning.

We have been doing our Christmas shopping in spurts. We still have a fair bit to go, but have been enjoying what has been done. J is completely looked after, of course. His big gift for the year is a motorized motorcycle that he can ride. It looks like a teeny little Harley. It has a switch to change direction from forward to backward, and goes about 3-4 km/hr on an easy-to-recharge battery. It has working headlights and taillights, and a button on the handlebars that makes siren and machine gun noises when it is pressed. He still needs a helmet.

I have a picture of the bike, but I'm too exhausted to spend the time uploading it tonight. Besides, it will be better on Christmas, when we can get a picture of little J on his new motorcycle. Sweet!

Once again: I love sales!

No. Not that end.

J's favorite little Boppy Bear sprung a leak. Oh noes! (Boppy Bear was a birthday present, and J loves it. It's a little yellow inflatable bear. You can push it down, and it will spring back up. Hours of entertainment!)

Fortunately, Boppy Bear came with a repair kit. H grabbed the kit and prepared to fix Boppy Bear. The instructions said to remove the paper backing and press down firmly over the hole, then re-inflate in 20 minutes.

H cut a little piece off, and attempted to remove the paper backing. He finally got the paper backing separated from the patch, and tossed it aside. Then he held the piece down over the hole. He took his hand away. The piece slid off of the hole. He tried again. And again. And finally, he said "Well, how is this stupid thing supposed to work".

I wandered over to investigate. I picked up the piece. I turned it over. I grabbed the instruction sheet. I read them over. Then I looked at H and said "It's not working, because you are trying to repair the hole using the paper backing. The piece that you discarded is the patch".

J's Boppy Bear is patched now. Soon, I shall inflate him again. I hope he will hold air now. (Floppy Boppy is no fun at all.)

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J has a raging double-eye infection. We are using polysporin drops to try to clear it up. That and frequent baby shampoo washings of the eyes to keep them relatively gunk-free. The doctor thinks it's viral, so we just have to wait it out. But his eyes are really puffy and gunky, and he has big purple circles under them. He's feverish and generally unhappy. He's not eating, and isn't even drinking much at all.

My poor baby! I hope he feels better really soon.

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We bought J a Christmas gift tonight. It's really exceptionally cool. It's a ride-on motorized trike-type motorcycle, with rechargeable battery.

They had three of these in pink, but J got the last little boy's motorbike in the store. His is red and black, with flames painted on it. They're suitable for ages 3 to 7, according to the package, but J will be fine as long as he's supervised. That, and we probably just won't charge the battery until he's closer to the age group; until then, it will be more of a push-and-ride toy.

Anyway, this thing looks really cool. And it looks really expensive. But it wasn't. At all. We always look for sweet deals, and sometimes things work out. I really love sales and places that let you collect points toward purchases. YES!!

He loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah

J is in his "Yeah" phase. He says "Yeah" to pretty much anything asked with inflection.

Tonight, I was snuggling J to sleep. We were having a conversation, and he suddenly just stopped talking to me.

T: Are you giving Mommy the silent treatment?
J: Yeah.
T: Are you mad at Mommy?
J: Yeah.
H: Are you a Christmas turkey?
J: Yeah.
H: With cranberry stuffing?
J: Um ... mm ... Yeah.

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J had an eventful weekend. Swimming on Saturday, then he got to see his Memaw before she leaves town for a bit. He was pretty happy.

Sunday, we had Christmas parties going on. And then ... we ended up at the Emergency. J had "man-trouble". He is okay, but we were alarmed. So we sat there at Emergency for five hours. I am relieved that he is alright. He's extremely tired, and not quite himself. I hope my little boy will return to his normal sweet self very soon.

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Today, Santa visited the office. (Yet another reason why my job rocks!) J received a Tigger Plane Activity Ride-On, which is a fantastic toy. It has a steering wheel with buttons that you push, resulting in music and various other noises, lights flashing on the dashboard, a propellor that lights up and spins furiously, and a Tigger and Roo duo that hops up and down in the front. It has a seat that lifts up for storage (J can put his Panda in there quite nicely).

J likes his toy. A lot.

I will no longer be an overachiever

I have deemed it so.

In the past, I got really high grades in school. I thought I needed them, and maybe I did at the time. Now, I can't seem to get those high grades any longer. I cared about that until today. I don't really care any longer. I have no time to care about such frivolity.

I work full-time. I have a husband and a young son. And I am in school. That's a pretty good load. I do not need to beat myself up for finding it difficult. It is supposed to be difficult. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.

I am not in school for the glory. I am not doing this for myself. I am doing this so that my family can have a better time of things down the road a spell. So long as I finish my schooling, that will happen. It will happen, whether I get 90's or 70's, or just squeak by with that required 65. It will still happen.

I am not working for the glory. I am working to pay the bills. If I need time for myself or my family, I will take it. If I am stressed out and need a moment to breathe and chill out, I will take it. I work hard when I am at the office, and I put in the necessary hours to meet deadlines. I am glad that I work for an employer who understands that work is there to fund your life, not replace it. It is good.

Life is different now. I have less time available for homework, because I choose to spend every moment that I can with my husband and son. I think that is a good decision, bursting with appropriately placed priorities. I work hard, but my family will always come first. Just as they should.

So let me get the 65. I will be happy with that 65. I don't know if I got it, but I hope I did. Anything that doesn't involve a rewrite is good. Why? Because a rewrite would mean homework and studying, which would take me away from my family. And I don't want to be away from my family.

Someday, I hope to finish my schooling. And I plan to do so. But I also plan to do a lot of other things. And the most important item on the list is make time for my family.

I refuse to make myself sick worrying and stressing about school. Will I continue to care? Sure. Will I be proud of myself if I do well? Sure. Will I continue to be an overachiever? Well ... it's a hard habit to break, but I sure do aim to try.

Wish list: Less work; more play!

(It's a peaceful post. It's a pleasant post. It is a post free from stress, animosity, and ire. Clearly, my exam is over. Woot!!)

I hope I passed

I feel like I was just kicked in the gut.

I don't want to see anyone. Ever. I just want to sit in my house and cry.

I had 97% going into that exam. I'd worked really hard. I'd studied really hard. I'd run all kinds of past exams, plus the practice exam, and had done reasonably well on all of them. I was really hoping to keep my grade high and qualify for scholarship money again this year. And now, I have no idea if I even managed to get enough marks to pass the stupid course. And I feel really despondent about the whole thing.

Of course, I may surprise myself. I may get a grade really stupidly incredibly high. But if I do, it would be a nice fluke, because I was grasping at straws an awful lot.

I am sad. I don't know if I should even be taking these courses. It's a Level 3 course, and there are 5 levels in total. I'm struggling so hard with Level 3 ... how am I going to make it through Level 5?

I am hard on myself. I know that. But I really question my intelligence just now. Partway through the multiple choice, I actually checked the front page of the exam again, just to make sure it was for the right course.

I feel stupid and pathetic.
I feel tired.
I feel hungry.

I am going to sleep now.

If the courier never comes ...

Well, the courier allegedly delivered my textbooks. To my address. And put them in the mailbox. The mailbox of my lovely light grey house with the dark grey trim.

Problems with this include:

1. I have no textbooks.
2. I have no mailbox.
3. I do not live in a light grey house.
4. My house has white trim.

I feel irritable.

Not only do I not have a mailbox, but nobody in my community actually has a mailbox. Why? Because it is one of those communities with the big central mailbox with the keys. So any mailboxes on the houses would be for decorative purposes only, and certainly would not be big enough to hold the monstrous textbook that I have been told comes with my Economics materials.

RAGE! RAGE! RAGE!

I need the books so that I can start my course readings this weekend, after my current course finishes up on Friday night.

Whatever. Apparently, the courier has decided that I need a break. Apparently, the courier has decided that I am stressed out and should not start my readings this weekend. But I feel just fine. And the fact that I want to seriously maim the courier is not indicative of my stress level in the least; it is just indicative of his (or her) incompetence.

Dear Courier:

Deliver my materials now, you stupid buffoon, or I shall beat you about the head with a DVD player.

Signed,
The Management

The Nutcracker

J's first Christmas concert was tonight. Daycare put on "The Nutcracker". We dressed little J in his special little three-piece suit and his new "Cars" shoes that light up when he runs about, smoothed his hair down, and headed off to watch our little boy in "The Nutcracker".

He did his part very well, I assume. I can't remember the name of the character he played, but it was the one who gets pushed about in a stroller while refusing to wear his antlers, mouth stuffed with cookies, tears streaming down his face, arms outstretched, screaming "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

You know which one I mean.

Here are some pictures from before, during, and after J's first ever Christmas concert. Enjoy!

Stop vandalizing my garden! I mean it!!

Yes, I know that the yard is not fenced in the front or back just yet. But that does not mean that my yard is a shortcut from the alley to the street! It is a private yard! It is my private property! Stay the [insert expletive here] out!!

It's not even that convenient. Just now, there are giant drifts of snow that you have to get through. Why would you do that, instead of just going down the alley like you are supposed to? Do that! And seriously, stay out of my yard!!

It's bad enough when I see your footprints in the snow beside the house. That is still trespassing. And it is still unacceptable. But I don't get overly excited about it. But for the love of all that is holy, when you actually duck down under my chokecherry tree and walk right through the middle of my flower garden, crushing my spireas and destroying my moonlights, I swear to God I want to have you killed!

You'd better pray I never find out who you are, you stinky little toad.

Hate mail

I despise you. I really do. You, and your evil offspring. You are all horrible.

Sure, you're cute. And in the past, I have quite enjoyed your pleasant chattering. But just now, I feel that it would be in my best interests to have you all exterminated. Of course, I would never do it. It's not that I think it would be wrong; it's just that it would be a waste of money, since there would be others just like you who would come along and replace you in an instant. But I desperately wish you would all leave voluntarily and let me live my life in peace.

It is the second time you and your evil offspring have done this to me. And on both occasions, you have cost me dearly. Nobody in my community liked you, except for me. I defended you staunchly. And then, you attacked, and all bets were off.

After the first occasion, I am somewhat ashamed to admit that my family had your home destroyed. But you would not be swayed, and you moved to another domicile, not 20 feet away! I got used to you, and we lived in peace for a time. You returned to your pleasant chatter, and I returned to defending your behavior. But eventually, I just moved away from you. I thought that this would be the end of our relationship. And when you died, I mourned your loss, never imagining that your children would carry on your vendetta in your stead. But now, I know. You are the victor. Even from the grave, you give the order and your minions continue to carry out your bidding. Yes, you got me again, didn't you? You horrible, small, pathetic, little being.

Tell me, do the kids just sit there, waiting for me to be nearby, so they can violate my possessions? They must, because they don't seem to do it to anybody else. Or is it just that my vehicles have some unique quality that they find exceptionally endearing? Is there something about my engine in particular that makes it especially convenient? It is an engine. It is there to propel my vehicle from one location to another. And no matter how warm it gets under the hood of my car, it is not meant to be used to freeze-dry your food!! But if you are going to use it for just such a purpose, would you be so kind as to remove the food when it is ready? This would at least be slightly more respectful than your nasty habit of leaving your food under the hood of my car, where it may catch fire or, as was the case last night, knock my heater fan out of commission.

And now, the heater only works on high speed. I am glad, though, that it still works. But I have no idea how much it will cost to repair the damage you vermin have caused this time. And I can't even ask your nasty little children to pay for the damage they did because, just like you, they are unemployed little rodents who live off the land. So once again, I take it on the chin.

I swear that I will get you for this. Somehow, someway, when they least expect it, your children will be made to suffer my wrath.

Stupid squirrels!