Piper's Pipings

Piper is talking now. BOY she is talking now. I can finally start my toddler talks collection!

...

Her Monday night babysitter asked Pete about her increased use of "verbal aggression." We looked at each other and laughed.

"Scat; get out of here!" is a frequently-used expression around here. Our cats are very bad. (Well, cat, now. Nanook squeezed out of the garage during the week we were away. I think she is happier as an outdoor cat now. We are seeking a replacement - perhaps a puppy? Mia wouldn't know the difference...)

...

Yesterday, I was out (yes, out - I went shopping with the two yesterday and enjoyed most of it immensely!), and got stuck for two cycles at a left-turn light (seriously, they fall asleep at the wheel here at the first sign of warmth!). When the light turned green for a third time, I honked my horn and the driver in front of me finally moved. I wasn't too put out, since B was sleeping, but as I turned, I heard a little annoyed voice behind my seat on repeat:

"Stupid car. Stupid car. Stupid car."

Yeah, we think the drivers down here are baaaaad...

...

Last night at dinner, Piper decided she didn't want to eat her sausage. Instead of a simple "no," she opted for a re-route with a shocked "Oh my GWRACIOUS!!!" She topped off the effect with her hands over her mouth in feigned horror.

I think my mom might get the credit for that one.


This morning, I was puttering in my office when Piper came tearing down the hall with one of her two stuffed Minnies to grab her scarf and coat from the doorknob where they were hanging temporarily.

"We gotta find Mickey - and fast!" (Mickey went to work with Pete this morning, having been left overnight in the car.)

"We gotta rescue him!"

...

My favorite of the week came last evening while we were waiting to pick Pete up from work:

"Shweetie," Piper said from the back seat, "I'm gonna help you..."

Oh how sweet, I thought. Then she finished her ramble.

"Shweetie, I'm gonna help you find a mouse!"

Say WHAAAA?








(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Crazy Christmas

On Christmas Eve, with Bredon just a week old, we bundled into the car at 5:00 a.m. and drove to Virginia ahead of an ice storm that didn't arrive until late that night anyway. Both kids slept the entire way up, Bredon in our car, and Piper in her "Uncle" Kate's car - a blue corolla christened "Bugs Bunny, Jr." Piper loves that car.

Pete and I got some good talk time, and I got a song stuck in my head for the duration of the weekend - I couldn't have asked for a better one for the weekend that held enough drama to make a Lifetime Christmas movie.

Oy.

Christmas itself was fairly uneventful - who could have events when the weather was keeping everyone inside? We spent the day relaxing and chasing little ones - ours and my brother's two kids. Almost everyone was home for Christmas; my brother Joel (number four of our eight) was due to arrive with his fiancée the next day.

The next morning, my mom got a call from Joel, asking for prayer. He and his fiancée had gotten off a bit later from her family's house than they had intended, and something was going on. Two phone calls later, we discovered that they had decided to elope, five months before their wedding date in May.

The next two days saw a couple of drive-way stuck cars, a visit from my inlaws, a second birthday for my brother's son Chip, a run for a marriage license and wedding fixings, and lots and lots of activity and drama as we all processed and bounced off one another in my parents' house as we waited for their driveway to freeze and thaw and freeze and thaw for ingress and egress.

Pete and Piper and I left Monday, because Pete needed to be back at work on Tuesday. We got off late, and made pretty good time to Statesville, NC, where we stopped for dinner. And found a potato peeling in my husband's salad greens.

For those of you who don't know, my husband is deathly allergic to potatoes. Anaphalactic shock deathly allergic. He went out to the parking lot to vomit while I collected the kids and what was left of my nerves after the home drama before we headed to the nearest hospital.

Have you ever tried to keep a curious toddler from pushing buttons in a hospital room while trying to nurse a fussy newborn? *insert slightly maniacal laugh here* It's bad when the emergency patient is chasing the kid around with an IV in his arm, isn't it?

They drugged Pete up, and we made for home again around 9:30, with about 4 and a half hours left on the drive.

Piper woke at about 1:30 a.m., disoriented and wanting to be held. She cried the remaining thirty minutes into Charleston, and panicked when we got home until she got her pillow-and-blanket-on-the-warm-cozies with snacks and tea fix.

Christmas 2009 may go down as our craziest Christmas ever. At least until one of our kids calls home to say they're eloping. I really don't want to try to top it...

(Oh, and Joel did get married on Tuesday with most of the immediate family and our Aunt Chris present. We missed it, but even the people who were there didn't see the kiss - they heard it!)

I'll be doing a photo post as soon as I can put one together here. For now, I'm just clearing my head... Which I can do at the moment, with BOTH. KIDS. SLEEPING.

*GRIN*





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Warm Cozies and a Haircut - A Few Photos

So blah, yeah, it's me. (Sorry about that... :-P)

I'm showing off today. My hubby bought me a haircut for an early Christmas gift.

It. Was. Awesome. A few minutes for myself. A seriously perfect shampooing and head massage. To. Die. For. Girl talk - you know the kind about babies and hair and makeup and dreams and stuff?

And on top of it all, I absorbed lots of really sweet commentary about my baby belly and how good I looked pregnant. It was SO nice to hear, especially when the majority of people take one look and ask "so you're due soon, right?" They've been doing that since about seven months. I am seriously ALL baby here.

I am so spoiled. I'd feel like I'm being downright narcissistic, except I have felt so frumpy recently, it's really nice to feel pretty today! So I'll take it, and be grateful for it, and share it with you, narcissistic or no!

Oh, and Pete bought me flowers, too, but I'm saving a photo of those for Monday.


And it's such a cold and rainy day here, I have to pass on Piper's new favorite thing: cuddling up over the heat grate (any of them) and getting her "warm cozies" fix. It is so seriously cute, I want to cry. I just love it!

Yesterday, when I took this photo, she was cuddling over the grate in our bedroom while I made the bed, and I dropped the blanket over her as she buried herself in. WHAT a cuddlebug!

And this photo just reminded me of another one, taken when she was about three months old. So you get that today as well.


I cannot believe she was ever this small. Wow.

I cannot believe we're about to do this again.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

"The Time Has Come..."

The walrus said, as she lumbered her bulk onto the living room floor, shifting stomach and baby out of the way for a toddler diaper change, wondering just how much longer she'd be able to plan on getting up after this ritual.

I was planning to wait for Piper to think of potty-training on her own. I may still have to wait for her timing, God's timing. But I think I will begin encouraging her that direction, for all the advice this mommy-getting-bigger-every-day-now is worth to her.

I'd sigh, but this is the part I remembered about being pregnant. I don't remember it coming on quite so early with Piper, but then, her third trimester started at 6 months. It was only yesterday I found out I was expecting Button.

Wasn't it?

Time marches on without me, as usual.





(image from national geographic.com)

Reasons...

For not using birth control:

1) You're Catholic.
2.) You're a homeschooler.
3.) You just LOOOOOVE names.

(NOTE: This is a deliberately over-generalized assessment for the humor of the thing. I'm not wishing to cause any offense, just throwing out a funny thought I had when we were choosing names for Button yesterday.)

pregnant randomnity

There is this funny little gender predictor out there called the Chinese Gender Chart. Google it. It's kinda fun, once you figure out all the lunar month/lunar year stuff. For instance, I turned 27 in March, but I am actually 28 in Chinese lunar years. Anyway, this gender predictor chart uses your lunar age in conjunction with your month of conception to predict which gender you will have.

My dilemma is this: I was born in March, the month we conceived. So I was both 26 and 27 (or 27 and 28?) in the same month that Button was conceived. This wouldn't be such an issue if the gender prediction didn't change from age to age (at lunar age 27, it would be a boy, at lunar age 28, it would be a girl).

On one site that uses old wives tales, I'm getting a 62% boy prediction, on another (detailed a bit more below), a 60% girl prediction. I've not heard a heartbeat yet, so I've nothing more to go on.

And yet, for the simple humor of the thing I have decided to take votes. I'm wildly curious as to whether any of my readers has a thought one way or the other as to what we're having. I can guess it for just about anybody but myself (Piper was supposed to be a boy), so here's a throw-out to woman's intuition - can you guess?

Oy. And when you leave your guess, just for fun, throw in a name you like for the gender you guess!

----------------------

You are carrying the extra weight out front, so it's a boy.
The hair on your legs is growing faster during pregnancy, so it's a boy.
Boys are carried low. You are going to have a boy.
Sleeping in a bed with your pillow to the south indicates that you will be having a girl.
Your feet are not colder than they were before pregnancy. You are having a girl.
You refuse to eat the heel of a loaf of bread. You are having a girl.
Dad-to-be is gaining weight right along with Mom-to-be, which means that you'll have a boy.
The maternal grandmother doesn't have gray hair (dyed or natural), so a girl will be born.
You had morning sickness early in pregnancy, so you are expecting a girl.
You are looking particularly good during pregnancy. Therefore, it must be a boy, because girls steal their mother's looks.
Your chest development has not been very dramatic during pregnancy. You should expect a boy.
Since the sum of the mother's age at conception and the number of the month of conception is even, it will be a boy.
A needle on a thread held over your belly moves in circles, so you will have a boy.
Your urine is a dull yellow color, so you will have a girl.
You are craving sweets, which means that it is a girl.
Your nose hasn't changed during pregnancy, which indicates a girl.
You have been craving fruits, so it is a girl.
You must have orange juice every day, so it's a girl.
You show them the palm of your hand, so it's a girl.
You use the body of the mug, so it's a girl.

And a Pun from Pete...

This morning, my husband hollered at me from his position in the living room, where he was changing Piper's diaper. Alarmed at the urgency in his voice, I tore into the living room to hear his "I KNEW there was a reason we were having trouble with her diaper ointment!"

I was expecting to see some drastic, horrible eruption on my daughter's behind when he finished his statement - "It was a rash decision!"

(I learned what a rim shot is from my husband the other night after I tried to define it as a basketball going round and round the hoop before going in. Thanks to his education, I can give him one now.)

The Hair Saga is Over

It has been about two years since I had my hair cut short. It may be about two years again, if things go the way they went this weekend to get it cut.

I've been debating about sharing the saga that includes a non-caring male stylist who just wanted to be done for the day, who was answering cell phone calls during my haircut, watching the people go by in the mall outside during my cut, and trying to make me like something that I didn't like at all. I don't know if I want to go into how much courage it took me to tell a stylist for the first time in my life that I hated it. I don't want to talk about being angry because I felt so vulnerable about losing five inches of hair I loved for a cut I hated. I'm still debating about admitting to the fact that I went for a SECOND cut yesterday to get the whole thing fixed because of my own vanity.

So for now, I think I'll just stick with a photo and leave it at that. All affirming comments will be absorbed straight to my feminine ego. Including affirming comments for the man in my life who let me get it cut both times and loved me before and after and until he dies. Which might be soon if I don't take it easy on him. (Man, I love that guy...)

Practicing Our Merry

I wonder, is Christmas Eve like a dress rehearsal for Christmas? Let's just say it is, just for the principle of the post.

If Christmas Eve is like a dress rehearsal for Christmas, we're going to have the best Christmas EVER.

Today, Piper started out the day fussing. She continued with the day fussing. I wouldn't let her watch a movie, and she fussed. We showered together and she was fussing. I let her watch a movie and she got really quiet, so I went to do my hair.

While I was doing my hair, Piper pulled down our Christmas tree and then we were both fussing and screaming. We called Pete home to help, and we left with him to get what we needed for dinner, and she fussed.

We are home now, with Pete. She is still trying to get into trouble and fussing when we won't let her. And I am fussing on my blog.

And I am practicing my laughter, because I really do need a sense of humor.

Tomorrow should be just perfect.

And if it isn't, perhaps today's practice will make it fun.

Mia is a House Cat

Or, The Unplanned Saga of Mia Kitty

Read it and weep. All offers of sympathy will be accepted in full.


"Sure. Just use your judgment; I trust you to take good care of the house."

This is the most beautiful, stress-relieving one-line email I've ever gotten. Pete finally talked with our landlord yesterday about our Very Annoying Cat Situation.

When we adopted Puddles and Mia, we had planned to have two outdoor cats at our country-ish home in the West Virginia mountains. Three months later, we found ourselves looking for homes for our new fambly members so that we wouldn't have to move them across state lines (is there some violation of interstate commerce here, I wonder? WHOA. THAT thought means I've been married to a lawyer for too long... *cue scary music*). Puddles happily settled into house cat mode with our friends the Joneses, but Mia was forced to make the trek from Harpers Ferry to Charleston in the Budget rental truck with Pete (who, incidentally, posted last night on our non-updated joint blog).

Within a week of our arrival, Mia was making the rounds of the neighborhood during the day and residing in the shed in our backyard at night. We began to meet our neighbors as we went looking for our cat when we wanted her to come play with Piper, and she bonded with some neighbor kids across the street.

Mia started taking walks with people who passed our house and accompanying the neighbor girl to the bus stop where she was nearly hit by a passing car. The neighbors repeatedly returned her to us with well-meaning, "she is in danger" comments that didn't really worry me because I knew Mia didn't like cars.

Then Mia was mated by a too-friendly neighborhood cat that we Do Not Like, and we had to get her spayed right away, a $200 fee and a two-week in-house stay that we hadn't planned and didn't want because of the "No Pets!" stipulation in our lease that we had not known about (despite repeated queries) prior to our move.

When we went out of town for a wedding in September, we returned to find no sign of her. When I called the vet the next morning to see if anyone had called the number on her tag, I discovered that one of the neighbors had taken her home over the weekend, worried about her safety.

We were happy that the cat was all right, but two weeks later, we discovered a wound in her side that looked as though it had been made by a pellet gun. Another $150 later, I was keeping her in the house unless we were outside with her.

Just before Thanksgiving, Mia disappeared again after escaping outside when we left for the afternoon. That evening, I called and I called and I called, and I lost sleep worrying that she didn't come when I called. She reappeared the next morning, sans-collar and glad to be home.

Before we left for my parents' for Thanksgiving, I crossed the street to ask the neighbor if she would mind if her kids watched the cat for us. In the conversation with our neighbor lady, who heads up the neighborhood watch, I discovered not only that Mia had spent the night with them the night before, but also that several of our neighbors had been freaked-out-worried about the cat (did she have cancer (after the shot wound)? Would the neighbor guy who shot her try to trap her? It's too cold outside; you can't keep a cat outside at night! what kind of pet owners are these people? Did you know there's a leash law even for cats in this neighborhood?). I left the conversation grateful that no one had taken our cat to the pound, but furious and somewhat violated.

I grew up on a farm. CATS LIVE OUTSIDE.

I lived in northern Virginia. PEOPLE MIND THEIR OWN BUSINESS.

Yesterday, my wonderful husband finally got around to describing our situation as responsible pet-owners to our landlord, who responded with the above missive.

Mia is a house cat now.

'Nuff said.

Autumn Randomnity

*I'm normally not one to take a superior "eat-your-heart-out" attitude. But this morning, I have one and I'm not too sorry. My husband brought me toasty-warm towels straight from the dryer at the conclusion of my shower this morning. So ladies, eat your heart out. He's mine. ;-)

*Our bathroom doesn't have a storm window, which means we get a draft in there. It also means that we enjoy the delightful scent of woodsmoke from our neighbor's chimney.

*Piper's new favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast. We are glad for the break from Enchanted.

*How do you lose an entire package of magnets in less than two weeks? Put them in the toddler's reach, let the cat play with them, and watch them disappear under all the major appliances. The undersides are now coated with magnets. Will this cause anything to blow up?

*Making dinner requires thinking ahead. A day ahead is good. So you can get things out to thaw. Fifteen minutes out for a roast that is still in the freezer doesn't really cut it. Ha ha.

*On Saturday night, we ate a pork tenderloin that has survived at least two moves and three freezers. Believe it or not, it was the best-tasting piece of meat we've had in a long time. Just don't ask us about the after-effects of the meal. ;-)

*I have a spider plant that is a cutting from one that used to belong to Pete's grandfather. I keep forgetting about it. Believe it or not, the plant is still alive. Wonder and astonishment. I think we should give it a name...

*Our cat is a really dumb cat. (Just thought I would throw that one in for Pete's sake.)

Things I Will Never Do Again - Redux

Nutiva Customer Service to Kelly:

Dear Kelly,

Please accept our apologies at Nutiva for the difficulties you had with the five gallon coconut oil. The 5 gallon oil originally had a zip tab around the lid which made it easy to open. When the tab was removed you could lift the lid off. The company that packages the coconut oil for us changed the packaging recently without informing us.

We have told them the current package is unacceptable and we will have the zip style lid again soon. The single gallon is still made with the zip strip lid and I'm sending you a free one for the problems you experienced and so you can also see how the 5 gallon lid will be in the future. Again, we are very sorry you had to struggle with the container you purchased.

Sincerely,
Mark

____________________

I won't include my initial irate email here, though I will say that it read something along the lines of Lady Catherine's parting shot to Elizabeth Bennett:

"I take no leave of you, [Nutiva]. I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased."

Sometimes vindication is sweet.

Though I do feel bad for chewing them out.

Blah. I'm such a pushover.

Things I Will Never Do Again

So in the blitz of supplements we have ordered recently, I thought I would save money by purchasing some things wholesale instead of buying them in small, expensive increments.

Things like coconut oil.

Did you know you can get coconut oil wholesale?

I ordered a 5-gallon tub of coconut oil on sale. I saved about $90.00. Then at the checkout, I saved another $27.00 (I don't know how this happened - it was some sort of price break for ordering a certain amount or something.) I even got free shipping!

I eagerly anticipated the arrival of the coconut oil, congratulating myself on the deal I had gotten and looking forward to not having to purchase coconut oil for a year or more.

We had run out of our coconut oil, so when it arrived, I removed the tub from its packaging and tried to open it. The tub, which is more like a bucket, bore warnings about children falling into it and drowning. But coconut oil is a solid at room temperature, so I wasn't worried about that. I removed several different plastic things from a... spout?

Coconut oil is a solid. How am I supposed to pour it out of a spout? There had to be something else, some other way to open the bucket.

We tried and tried to open the top lid, but it wouldn't come. Apparently, the morons who put the coconut oil into the bucket had completely sealed it. It was all one piece.

So I dipped the handle of one of my large cooking spoons into the spout and scooped out... 1 1/2 cups. Out of 5 gallons that had cost me a couple hundred dollars. A couple of now inaccessible hundred dollars. Geez. It's like the stock market.

I scooped and tried and finally gave up. But this morning, I ran out of that piddly 1 1/2 cups of coconut oil, and I knew it was time for battle.

I wrestled the 50-pound container into the bathroom and doused it in the hottest water I could get out of the spigot. Coconut oil melts at 76 degrees, so I was hoping it would melt so I could actually pour it out of the spigot. Five minutes later, I pulled it out and tried to transfer it into a container. Nothing. I tried again, this time for ten minutes with the bathtub filling around it.

This time, I was able to half fill my container - I poured out about two cups of oil. I put the bucket back into the tub and wrestled it out again ten minutes later. We had less this time, but it was pouring, at least. This time, when I put it back into the bathtub, it hit the water upright and the resulting splash soaked me. It took me one more melting/pouring attempt to fill the container, with the solid coconut oil jumping into the spigot opening and blocking the melted oil.

Next time, I'm taking the bucket to a hardware store and paying for something big, mean, and bad to cut through the totally-sealed packaging.

Or I just won't by my coconut oil in bulk.

I wonder. Does anyone know what I could get out of the company who sold it to me for pain and suffering?

Examples, Examples

Last night, while Pete was in the other room, Piper came to get me while I was doing an email on my computer. She climbed up on my chair and started trying to nurse.

I asked her if she wanted a drink, which is what I've been doing when she wants to nurse lately, to try to get her interested in other food.

Her eyes lit up, and she waved her arms and gave me the excited "yets, yets, yeah!" that I get when I guess what she wants correctly.

"We'll have to get that for you, won't we?" I said, preparing to get up.

She grinned and let out a loud, "DAAAAAAAAAAD!"

I think I may need to watch how often I "use" my husband's servant's heart. Piper needs to know Dad is not our slave.

Ahem

Pearls said it.

Leeann posted it.

I believe it.

She Is Mostly Priceless

Special thanks to Uncle Kate for the photo op.

...And Fluffy

"His yolk's over-easy and his burn is light."

My brain is fried.

Having Been Married to Pete for Too Long...

I cannot resist some irreverent-type humor today.

I have decided that our cats must be dyslexic.

When it came time to sign up for "god" classes, they signed up instead for "dog" classes. Mia wags her tail. Both cats are people animals. They like to take walks with us. Thinking about it, however, they don't actually bark.

Hmm. I wonder if Puddles thought it would be fun to mess with Mia's mind.

Older sisters can be so incorrigible.

As if one baby isn't enough...

(Immediate Disclaimer for ahem, gullible *wink*, friends who read my blog: No, we're still not pregnant again.)

I speak of our kittens, Mia and Puddles.

Cute, loving, and not nearly as independent as cats are reputed to be. Go figure.

About a month ago, we moved the cat food inside at night and rigged up a block method for the neighborhood raccoon. Before we started doing this, we lost two screens, a bag of kitten food, and quite a bit of sleep.

Now, we just lose sleep in the morning, when Mia begins yowling at the door around the time Piper wakes up. No sleeping in allowed at our house!

In the first week we got the kittens, Mia managed to get herself slammed in the screen door. Her favorite spot now is right under the door so she will be perfectly positioned for us to step on her as we walk out.

Puddles managed the kittens' eviction from their part-time indoor cat privileges when she chose the couch as her watering spot every time she came inside.

On Saturday, we rushed Mia to the doctor after finding her limping terribly the night before. It was only an abscess, we were told. We paid through the nose for the check-up and the antibiotic. They told us to come back, of course, to get their shots.

This morning, I decided on a blog post when Pete went out to feed them when Mia started up her morning racket. Puddles was nowhere to be seen, but she was definitely determined to be heard. Finally, we located her about 25 feet off the ground in a nearby tree, maiowing helplessly for Pete to get her out of the tree.

Yeah, right.

If it had Piper, we might *think* about getting a ladder.

But then, what would Piper have been doing in a tree?

Oh dear. I shouldn't ask, should I?

I really shouldn't post this...

If I am to maintain my political ambiguity, but Pete thought it needed to be posted, and the Husband must be pleased.

So, this is technically a post by Pete.

He ventured forth to bring light to the world

And it came to pass, in the eighth year of the reign of the evil Bush the Younger (The Ignorant), when the whole land from the Arabian desert to the shores of the Great Lakes had been laid barren, that a Child appeared in the wilderness.

The Child was blessed in looks and intellect. Scion of a simple family, offspring of a miraculous union, grandson of a typical white person and an African peasant. And yea, as he grew, the Child walked in the path of righteousness, with only the occasional detour into the odd weed and a little blow.

Do read the rest of the article at the TimesOnline.