This is the kind of day when I am That Employee.
A few things have been crossed off my to-do list – for example, my voice mail says I’ll be out of the office, and my desk is clean – you know, the really pressing stuff. The reports, summaries, phone calls to return, documents to edit – this is a different story.
Whatever. I’m kicking time around until it’s respectably late enough for me to get out into this gorgeous day and officially begin my vacation.
I can’t wait to get Roo to his grandparents house. His personality is just exploding. In the last week, he’s said “dog” and “mama” (though sadly for me, Mama is the other one), and signed “finished,” “more,” and “thank you.”
Yesterday he figured out how to zerbert me. He would do it, look at my face, crack up, and do it again.
This morning I zerberted him and he belly laughed and then signed “more.”
My kid is a freakin’ genius. No kid has ever accomplished such feats before.
Okay. That took about 5 minutes. Another 45 or so to go, I think. I’ve already exhausted I Can Has Cheezeburger, The Onion, and Go Fug Yourself. Also People and Us Weekly. I’m entering Dilbert territory.
Eating pickles, despite the old wives tales, is not a surefire sign that someone is pregnant.
I love pickles. I eat them whenever I get the chance. I am not pregnant.
Please stop making that joke. It was funny the first 31 times.
As usual these days, I have posts brewing in my head that just aren’t making it to the screen. So here are the lecks and shmecks for this week:
A few weeks back, the pediatrician gave us carte blanche to feed Roo just about anything he would eat. Suddenly, after months of being the most uninterested solid-food eater on the block, we can’t feed him fast enough. He’s eating 35-40 ounces of formula a day (I think this is what they mean by “eating us out of house and home”), plus 3-4 meals and a couple of snacks. Where does it go? He doesn’t even weigh 18 pounds.
Since the edict from the pediatrician, everything we’ve put in front of Roo has gone straight down the hatch, including, but by no means limited to: masala dosa, pickles, lemons, limes, grilled peppers, feta cheese, black beans with cumin and chili powder, spicy spanish rice, curried tofu, buckwheat waffles, and sauerkraut.
While this eat-everything-in-sight window is open, I want to give him as many things as we can. Any ideas about how long we get this before we get into picky-toddler eating?
NSG’s new business has suddenly come together. A few months back, we decided to start a family day care. With lots of ever-so-collegial TA from Clementine, we managed to get things off the ground and figure out systems and set-up. We got our first deposit – from the mom of a baby due next week – before we even advertised. And then weeks went by, we showed the place to a million people, and – nothing. We alternated who panicked on any given day. And suddenly last week all of our spaces filled up, and we’re even sitting on a waiting list. I’m not surprised, but I am amazed that it all came together like this. The best part is seeing how happy NSG is with this business. Nannying – which she’s been doing so she can bring home a salary and have Roo with her – just sucks. She works for a great family, and there are tons of perks, but it’s the nature of that beast. It’s time for her to be her own boss, and I’m busy doing the happy dance for her – and for us.
Thursday our state legislature is voting, for what feels like the 400th time, on the amendment to ban same-gender marriage. This is IT: if we kill it, it’s over, if it passes, it goes to a referendum. I’m trying not to feel pessimistic, but the get-thee-to-the-State-House emails are coming fast and furious, and everyone is being cagey about how the numbers look on the vote, which feels like bad news.
I can’t STAND the idea that our neighbors get to say have a say in what rights we get. The fact that they would have this say almost four years after we got these rights is just an extra kick in the teeth.
Stay tuned. Roo and I will be down at the State House on Thursday, so I’ll write about it either here or over at Lesbian Family dot org.
On that note, I leave you with this (click the thumbnail so you can actually read it):
It’s been a rough couple of weeks – hence the absence of any posts of substance, or even much in the way of posts at all.
Last week the sleeping situation was so bad that we both felt like we were hanging on by our fingernails. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say it was one of the hardest parenting weeks we’ve had so far (ptuh ptuh – may they all be this easy, right?). That seems to be improving, though s-l-o-w-l-y.
Work is kicking my tail. I’ve been running a program I’m supposed to be just overseeing since I fired the fool on Halloween. So far I’ve offered the job to THREE people, who have all turned me down. And this is busy season. The to-do list gets longer, and I’m reluctant to work late (and too freakin’ tired to go in too early) because I refuse to give up time with my Roo.
Sigh. Bitch. Moan.
This is all normal and mundane stuff, but it’s occupying a lot of my brain space these days. The balance of my work and the rest of my life is getting harder to find instead of easier. I feel like I’m dropping balls all over the place.
Does it get easier ever?
In the meantime, I am thankful every day for Roo’s stinkin’ cuteness. It’s saving me, including those nights when he’s up every 20 minutes. He’s combat crawling and starting to push up onto his knees. He’s going to be crawling for real in the space of 2 weeks, I’m guessing, and then we’re in for it. At his checkup the other day he turned up in the 90th percentile for length and the 20th percentile for weight; my child is a string bean. These are clearly not our genes.
I love how proud he looks when he gets up on his knees, and his little gasp of delight when he spots the cat.
I’m totally manic these days. Maybe the long weekend I have coming up – in Florida! – will do the trick. It’s hard to sustain all this kvetching when my to-do list includes digging out my bathing suit from the bin in the basement.
ETA: Oh, and did I mention that I was diagnosed with “baby-wearing knee?” You think I’m kidding. My knee has been hurting for 6 months, and my doc finally figured out that it has to do with the way I’m bending when I have Roo in the carrier. So now I’m in physical therapy three times a week for a month (at least). Good grief. Can someone please help me come up with a credible story that involves a snowboard or something?