...a little bit of this, and a little bit of that...
...a journey through my ups and downs...
Things I like, yet simultaneously dislike:
I’m sure there are many more, but I’m too tired to think.
Sitting in a comfy chair, babe asleep on my lap. Water falls over river rocks. Gentle breeze tickles my face. Leaves rustle. Flowers sway. Hummingbirds flutter. Subtle scents of thyme drift through the air. Ahhh, Shangri La. My sister’s back yard. So lovingly and expertly landscaped. She and her man are so incredibly gifted. I am so privileged and grateful to be still for just a moment and drink it all in.
The thing I don’t like about vacation is that I have to work like a maniac to get all the work done that is due while I’m planning to be on vacation. It’s not so much like getting a true reprieve from work. I still have to do all the work. Grumble grumble grumble. I will very much enjoy taking the next few days off. I’m taking Boo to meet some of his cousins. I only wish my chauffeur, Mr. Squished, the cool cat himself, could come along.
On another note, these pretty things are blooming now. I think they’re lilies of some sort. I’m surprised there’s anything blooming as I yanked out a ton of bulbs last winter.
This is a mystery flower. I planted several last year and nothing came up. This year, these odd, tall, leafy and not very attractive things came up. I let them live while trying to determine if they were weeds or if I had purposefully planted them. Having decided upon the latter, I let them live yet a little longer. They surprised me with blooms –tiny bursts of flower atop tall lanky, leafy stalks. Not very impressive, but up close they’re quite pretty.
Peas and rice, actually, and quite alot even made it down the hatch. Hopefully peas can’t make a person blind. This little guy likes to be very interactive and feel the food. Consequently, it ends up between the fingers, in the eyelashes, up the nose, and under the chin. Some even makes it as far as the bib.
I look like one of those Asian women who paints her eyebrows on, and uses a youthful reddish brown color instead of a more realistic blackish color. Oh wait, I am one of those Asian women… …well… …blended, anyway… …or maybe it’s shaken, not stirred…
I was previewing some self portrait attempts and decided to try another, and realized the previous showed up in the background of the present (but obscured by the flash). I thought that was kind of funny so I PSP’ed it to clarify the background.
Note: I iron almost as often as I brush my hair.
PSP: Jasc Paint Shop Pro, much cheaper than Photoshop
I added a ticker to my blog to remind me that I should be paying attention to my health. To give myself a boost I calculated my ’43 down’ based on the high point I reached when I was full term with Boo. I lost quite a bit of fat while carrying him, and was actually down a whopping 62 lbs after taking a strong diuretic called Lasix, to combat the extreme edema that happened in that last trimester. Sadly, I’ve put some of the offending weight back on. Although 62 is a much better number than 43, 43 is still better than zero, so I should not beat myself up too much about this, and continue to remember that it’s a battle worth fighting and not to give up.
Perhaps it’s not psychologically good to call it a shameful reminder then. I shall try to come up with a more positive title.
I found him! Happy Jack is Back! We celebrated his 89th birthday with some yummy chocolate cake. Note the happy chocolate mouth mess.
Boo had fun trying out the wheel chair.
He and Uncle Jack had plenty to talk about.
We had a nice visit. I’m so glad we found him. Somehow I’ve made it forty years without losing someone close to me (apart from my Grandpa, who died when I was around twelve). I don’t know how to say goodbye. I will miss him when he goes.
I love Saturdays (apart from highway rants). Saturday is my day to be a Stay-At-Home-Mom, the epitome of my life, the dream of dreams I’ve dreamt for as long as I can remember.
Wake up, pump, play with Boo. Change his diaper, tickle him, love him. Breakfast together. Big boy oat cereal for Boo, old fashioned super thick oatmeal for me. Snuggle and play some more. 
Bake a cake. Make frosting from scratch. Actually follow a recipe with almost no alteration (substitute whipping cream for heavy cream and semi-sweet chocolate for milk chocolate). Package cake, paper plates, napkins and forks for afternoon outing. Feed Boo a bottle. Play some more. 
Nap time for Boo. Pack the diaper bag. Pump again. Read a magazine. Read a magazine!! (It was worth repeating.) Clean the kitchen, do the dishes. Have a salad. Jump in the shower (quick, before he wakes up!) Load the car. Pack up Boo. Hit the road. A nice Saturday drive. Visit an old friend. Eat cake. Play. Sing songs. Say goodbye. Drop by the fabric and craft store. Contemplate fountain designs (new project brewing). Look for bargains. Drive home. Happy boy. Arrive home. Unpack car. Play some more. Another bottle for Boo. Take a little nap with my beautiful boy. Pump again. Green beans and rice for my good little eater. Beets, yams, and potatoes for me. Sit on the swing with Daddy and Boo. Enjoy the evening air. Make Boo giggle. 
Play. 
Get tired.
Play some more.
Get very tired.
Night night bottle. Sleepy bye for Boo.
Movie time for Daddy and me. Download photos. Pump. Blog.
A glorious day.
On the highway
Driving speed limit
Prepare for lane change
Blinker is on
Check rear view mirror
Red car closing fast
Changing lanes
Red car zooms past
Duelling lane change
No signal
Red left front
Grey right rear
Only inches apart
Male driver, young
Dark hair
Car full of people
Mostly children
Driver’s side
Small fuzzy head
An infant on his lap
I . N . F . A . N . T
On the DRIVER’S lap
WHAT IS HE THINKING
Some people
Should not be parents
Should not be driving
Plate number is a blur
Can’t call him in
Say a prayer instead
God protect those children
My life revolves around milk. How long can I make it before the next time I must pump It’s a game I play. Mostly because I’m lazy. There is the setup time where I have to get myself locked and loaded. There’s the time on the pump, which is usually 3o minutes, and sometimes more. Sometimes I fall asleep on my midnight shift and wake up an hour later (with bottles nearly full). There’s the cleanup time. All the parts must be washed every time. Of course measurement is necessary. How many cc’s this time, I ask myself, hoping I at least produced 90 from each side. I’ve learned that I can live with a six-hour cycle without too much pain or leakage, so I pump at 6 a.m., noon, 6 p.m., and midnight, plus or minus a bit. How long can I be away from home, without packing my pump Life is planned in 5 hour increments (the 6th hour is for pumping, cleaning, etc.) How much can I get done, how far can I go, how long can I sleep (the answer is always ‘not long enough’). These are questions I constantly ponder. I track, calculate, and plot my milk supply. I’m neurotic. I know.
