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I feel like it's been a long time since we went on vacation. After this very trying week, I feel vacation-needy. We were in Utah last January, but that feels like it was so long ago. And now with Chuck's back and baby Ollie, traveling is just not in our near future.
But there's hope. Summer 2012: I think and am pretty sure that we'll be spending about a month in Utah. I've been cleared to work from "home" (yes, my work knows I'll be in Utah) for that long, and with my parents on a mission, well, we might just invade their house. If they were there, I'd feel like a month would be a bit of an over-stayed vacation. But since we won't be bothering them at all, let's do it! It'll make all the Utah-weekenders (like Tetons, Moab) so much more doable. I am pumped.
Then, about a year after that when my parents finish their mission, Chuck and I (sans kids) are heading to Japan! We're definitely going to take advantage of my parents being over there; how could we not?!
And finally, about 18 months after that, Chuck and I celebrate our 10th anniversary. We're already saving money for this trip (along with the Japan one) and think we'll do a cruise. Chuck really wants to experience a cruise and since we'll have done Japan, I'm okay with it. If we go over our anniversary (late December), we'll do Caribbean. If we don't, then...maybe Alaska?
I know these things are forever away, but a girl can dream, right? Don't worry though; these days are not dragging as I pine for my trips. I mean, how can they when I have a son who declares the occupants of his underpants to the Bishop?
P.S. I should mention, for Rhett's sake at least, that he did not actually have poo in his underwear at tithing settlement. He never really has had a poo accident. But anytime he has any little streaks, well, it's all or nothing for that kid.
P.P.S. Also helping me is this! I won! I used my major award just hours later and spent WAY more than I won, but that's what they hope I do, right? I'm just doing my part for the economy. Winning! (And that's winning in the I-won-a-contest way, not in the yucky-Charlie-Sheen way.)
P.P.P.S. It kills me that I wore hot rollers for three hours before church on Sunday only for the curl to fall out before sacrament meeting was even over. Kills.
He's drawing a picture of his cousin, Emmy.
Rhett: I'm not going to draw a penis because I know girls don't have penises.
We're driving in the car and sun is getting in Ollie's face.
Rhett: Sorry Ollie, but there's nothing we can do about it. Jesus built the sun that way.
I'm trying, for the millionth time that week, to get Rhett to say things for which he's grateful. I'd been pretty successful, until now.
Me: Rhett, can you tell me something for which you're thankful?
Rhett: Mom, I'm pretty tired of that. My heart's just not in it.
On the way home from Thanksgiving dinner, Rhett's trying to decide if he wants books told on the couch, or two stories in bed. Normally we do both, but it was late, so he had to pick only one.
Rhett: I'm going to choose books. Know why, Mom? Because I'm bored and books beat boredom!
Rhett: Can I have a cookie?
Me: No.
Rhett: Can I have a snack?
Me: Yes.
Rhett: Can the snack be a cookie?
Me: [laughter]
The kid got a cookie. Can you blame me?
I'm opening a can of black beans. I finish.
Rhett: Good job you!
On the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day of bedroom carpet wetness, I got tired of happy Christmas music so I checked Chuck's CD player (remember, my car was covered with a carpet pad). It turned on some (edited) Eminem.
Me: This is called rap music, Rhett.
Rhett: Oh. Who likes rap music? Oh, right. Mummies.
Get it? Wrap music? Laffy Taffy wrapper maybe? Halloween joke book? Who knows.
In the Bishop's office for tithing settlement. Because Chuck couldn't be there, I'm juggling both kids after a long, napless Sunday. Any charade that I'm giving off to the Bishop that I can handle this situation surely faded once Rhett said this gem.
Rhett: I have poo in my underwear.
I give you mine:
The day of Chuck's surgery we had a rainstorm which dropped more than 2" of rain at our house; that night, we headed for bed as per our usual old, lazy selves. I was feeding Ollie because Chuck is not really supposed to lift anything, plus he was in a considerable amount of pain (but happily no leg pain!). Chuck walked into the bedroom to find his feet squishing in the carpet. Not what you want to happen on a dark, cold, rainy night. After surgery. With a baby at home. Let's be honest: you never want this to happen.
What did I do? What do you think I did? Cried! Ha. Then, because I had no choice, I finished feeding Ollie, put both Chuck and Ollie to bed, and got dressed in rain clothes and boots to go bail out the window well, which had filled with 8" of water during the storm. For 30 minutes I bailed. All the while, I composed my pithy Facebook status update. Chuck and I knew there wasn't much either of us could do about the floor until morning.
Morning came and we borrowed Chuck's parents' wet vac to help get up the water on the carpet. Unfortunately the wet vac put almost all of the water I vacuumed back onto the carpet due to a leak. Out with you, wet vac! Thank goodness it was trash day. It was then that we knew we needed outside help. We called a friend who happens to be a student with classes mostly at night, who easily and quickly came to our aid. (Many, many thanks be given to the Merrills!) Jon and I (mostly Jon) moved all the furniture, disassembled the bed (which won't come out of the room until it's completely broken down), and then pulled up the carpet, and the soaking wet pad. The one fun surprise was some green tile underneath everything! What a treat! Jon cut out the carpet padding and at this very moment, it's drying on my car. (But I must mention how the carpet pad came to be outside. Soaking wet, the thing weighed a LOT and was very drippy. So instead of haul it through the entirety of my house, we opted to shove it through the window well, which was now dry. Fun times.) The carpet downstairs is drying with a blower I rented from Home Depot. And all of the stuff from our bedroom (minus our two dressers) is sitting all amok in the basement. I want you to guess how this makes me feel. (A mess that I can't clean up? I dare you; take a guess.)
See? Aren't you glad you're not me? Thank goodness I have three of the sweetest boys on earth in this crazy house. Strike that. I have two sweet boys and one smart, funny, cynical man whom I love very much. You know, I think I still want to be me even through all of this. So, sorry, but no, you can't have my life. Now, now, there, there. Don't cry too hard.
However, be very glad you're not Chuck. While his surgery was a total success and his leg pain is completely gone, he's suffering now because, well, someone cut open his back and did stuff. With knives and other sharp objects. He's in a lot of pain and does not like feeling useless. Hopefully this pain will resolve itself quickly so that he can enjoy such things as putting on socks! Lifting his boys! Cleaning the bathrooms! Jogging with me and pushing the double stroller! (Yep, it's all about me.)
P.S. Has anyone ever paid for a cleaning service? Since my parents left, I feel like I haven't been able to really clean and it's starting to drive me crazy. And with Chuck out of commission, I don't see it happening any time soon. I think if I see a deal come up on Groupon, I might just take it.
...if they're wearing this:
P.S. How cool is this tree (the one in the back)? Sorry about the one in front, but it's a little awkward to take a picture of someone's tree in their backyard while you're driving by in a car. But I love this tree. Rhett wants it in his backyard so he can climb it. You might need to click on the picture to make it bigger; it's worth it.
P.P.S. Surgery today! I'll be at the surgery center with Chuck while a woman (to whom we are extremely grateful) from church watches the little ones. Update later...
Four months! We're that much closer to two years old! (I know, I know; I'm supposed to cherish these baby times because "they grow up so fast." Not true in my house; these days are sloooow.) But oh how we love this baby. We love him almost as much as he loves putting his little baby fists in his mouth and rolling onto his belly.
So far, so good. Sure, we'd love it if he slept through the night like Rhett did at this age, but it could be worse. He could be night-waking AND not taking great naps during the day. So we'll keep our reality, thank-you-very-much. The little one is definitely a solid daytime napper, even quickly adjusting his schedule so that nap #2 coincides perfectly with Rhett's nap. And he's going to bed at 7, which also happens to be Rhett's bedtime. Slowly but surely, we're returning to our lives, but with an additional member whom we love all the way to Pluto (and back to Earth, and then back to Pluto, and then back to Earth, and then back to Pluto, and then...).
Stats
Length: 24 1/3" (25th percentile)
Weight: 13 lbs. 11 oz. (25th percentile)
P.S. My parents check into the MTC today! Awesome! Goodbye parents! See you in 18 months!
Is it too soon to make fun of my still-ailing husband? Hope not because...it's time again for another rousing game of "I Spy, Chuck Doesn't!" [Cue game show music, preferably "Wheel of Fortune."] This time you are looking for light bulbs. And please don't judge the state of this cupboard nor the ceiling above it. It stresses me out but I haven't yet made time to organize it.
Anyway, GO! Feel free to click to enlarge.
P.S. How sad is this pizza? You know which quarter is mine, right? Sigh. These boys. They kill me. Doesn't it look one-fourth yummy?
A couple of weeks ago I noted that Pinterest seems to be inhabited mostly by women. A friend noted that maybe there were men out there, I just wasn't following them. Touche, Natalie, touche. But it turns out she's right! Who knew?!
So I took it upon myself to check out males who are pinning and see what types of things they're pinning compared to the females. I took a totally non-random sample of females to get a general sense of their boards. Then I looked at another totally biased sample of men. (I only know one and he apparently pins only root beers.) Then I did no sort of valid statistical analysis at all yet I will draw statistical inference on what I found because I'm cool like that. Well-designed surveys can stuff it!
Women: Common boards were crafts, recipes, gift ideas, organizing tips, holiday stuff, home decor, travel, and quotes. Not much variation there.
Men: Much more entertaining boards than those of the women. I found one board called "Cuteness" that contained an 18-pound bunny (uh, "cute," really?). Another board titled, "Dear wifey, please make this." And another titled, "Mushy Stuff." Even one called "Manly Stuff." Most common boards were travel, products, books, technology, video game stuff, music, and movies, virtually no overlap with the women's boards. I will add that many of the men I clicked on had only one board with things pinned onto it, and many had no pins whatsoever. Women were definitely NOT that way.
Finally, and somewhat surprisingly, the Pinterest team? It's a small, California-based team made up of 10 people, and only TWO are women!
Conclusion: Like most other arenas, men and women are different. Finis.
(If only this could count for a dissertation, because I did it while the boys were napping and I was watching Biggest Loser. I'm pretty sure real dissertations are a bit more difficult. But just a bit.)
P.S. I must disclose my method for finding the men. I checked baby names from the year I was born (1977) to find the top five boys' names from that year. Then I searched for them on Pinterest and looked at a couple. Totally scientific and valid. It would pass any peer review; I guarantee it.
P.P.S. DUUUUDE. I got a $2 bill in the mail the other day, in the hopes of swaying me to answer an upcoming phone survey! Will I ever! They just bought me a McDonald's ice cream cone--I owe them much more than a phone survey. I'd likely have done it anyway. To think I almost ripped that envelope in two and threw it in the recycling.
Things have been a little rough around here lately. Back in August, Chuck was helping a family move when he felt a tweak in his back. It was annoying for weeks until he played some pretty intense racquetball (the only kind he knows). Later, the tweak tweaked harder. It was not good. Then bad turned to worse, and Chuck's been in wicked pain ever since. After a plethora of chiropractic visits, orthopedic visits, more and more pain, and finally an MRI, we found out what was wrong with him: a herniated disc in his back. And not just any herniated disc, the "worst herniated disc" his doctor had ever seen. Yikes.
Surgery is scheduled for Wednesday, December 7th, which is about two weeks later than we had hoped. It's apparently not that risky as far as back surgery goes, but still. It's back surgery. That can't make anyone feel 100% comfortable. But we feel like it's the best decision. We're also secretly hoping for a cancellation to get him into the O.R. sooner rather than later.
I know it's hard for Chuck. Obviously. He's in serious, near-constant pain and is frustrated with all the things he can't do, namely, play with his kids (kidS--we have children! not just a child! I still am not used to this), help me with the kids and around the house, and sleep (quite possibly the most frustrating). He feels helpless and powerless and worthless. It's not good for his morale.
But it's also hard for me. We all know how much help I need around the house and not having that help is really wearing on me. If I didn't have a new baby and was getting eight straight hours of sleep, maybe I'd feel better, but it's been ridiculously hard. I'm tired. Like permanent red eye tired. I'm emotional (translation: I'm crying a lot). I'm just spent.
I know, I know. This should be about Chuck. He's the one in pain, pain worse than his kidney stones and more constant. But I've never been good at being a compassionate caretaker. When Chuck had one of his first very bad episodes and was laid out on the floor for awhile, I basically threw his iPad at him and told him to keep himself busy. Pretty loving, right? I love my husband, but this is just not how where I excel in showing it.
So needless to say (but I'll say it anyway), we're looking forward to the 7th. Most patients wake up from the surgery having none of the previous pain, only surgery pain. He'll take off from work for a bit and hopefully he'll recover quickly.
I guess when they say, "For better or worse" in marriage vows, this is what they're talking about. I'm just hoping Chuck will forgive this, my "worse."
Chuck's MRI. Pretty awesome to see, right? Disc oozing into nerve = NOT GOOD.
I don't want to know how Chuck really feels about the matching outfits. But to his credit, he makes me believe that he doesn't hate it. I guess that shows just what a good sport he's been while I insist on making ridiculous matching ties and suspenders for him and his sons. But sadly, now that Rhett has a brother, I will match the two little boys to each other and leave Chuck out of it. I do know that he's very happy about this.
But honestly, is this not great?
Pretty awesome the sock puppet on Rhett's hand, yes? Stake Conference can get a little long for a three-year-old. Does it make it awesomer that he was pretending it was Nag from Rikki-Tikki-Tavi? Yes, I thought so too. And awesomest? Our stake conference was watched from the Visitors' Center for the D.C. temple. Sweet. But least awesome is how OLD I think I look in that picture. Dang.
When you open a box of cereal, do you rip the bag all the away across, or just halfway?
Let's say it's not the day after Halloween, but just some random day. You're out walking your dog and see a nice piece of candy (Starbursts, e.g.). It's completely sealed. Do you eat it?
Is there a food that you detest but you're pretty sure most people love? For example, Chuck hates fish. Hates. But I think most people like it. I think I like liver, but I'm pretty sure most Americans hate it.
On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being totally inappropriate and 10 being totally appropriate), how appropriate is it for you and your significant other to wear a costume made up of: she wears a t-shirt with an electrical outlet on it and he wears a t-shirt with a plug. Does it depend on whether kids will see you? Is it ever appropriate for this?
A friend gave you a meal. In the meal was a small rock (the kind you use to decorate bottoms of vases). You're pretty sure (but not certain) it was a mistake because the friend knows you have a little one for whom this could be a choking hazard. Thankfully an adult found it and no harm done. Do you tell friend or not, because more than likely, it would mortify him/her?
Do you judge Mormon moms' ages by the number of kids she has? As in, "Well, she probably got married when she was 21, had her first kid at 23, and second at 25. Since the younger child is 1, she's probably 26." I know it's hard not to do, but I really dislike it. Probably because my age does not correspond with regular Mormon childbearing ages.
Why is Pinterest populated mostly by women? (Todd--I love how the only things you've pinned are root beers.) I wonder what Chuck would pin? Maybe I should create an account and start pinning for him.
Just for fun...
Because it's always something with me, isn't?!
Life is good. Parenting two children is getting (slightly) easier. I'm figuring out how to get out and do things with Rhett, all while trying my hardest to help Ollie nap. We've worked hard on our morning routine and have that down. I think that I'll even be able to get laundry done with Rhett and Ollie at home (although that's yet to be tested). We've been able to go to this crazy bounce place as well as the park and library, all while Ollie naps. And even if I haven't been running as much as I'd like, I'm getting my exercise done during Ollie's morning nap. Every day I'm feeling better about this mom-of-two thing.
But. There's always a big butt, right? (Name the movie, win a prize.) In the years Before Ollie (B.O.), Rhett and I were able to get our errands run together in the morning. Running, Target, grocery shopping, craft stores...he went with me! Sure, not his favorite thing, but we didn't do it every day so the kid survived. With exercising and errands out of the way, our afternoons were spent together as family: walking Bruno, playing, making dinner. Then, in the joyous hours after Rhett's bedtime (that beautiful three-hour block), Chuck and I did whatever we wanted: church calling stuff, sewing, reading, computering, watching television, whatever. But it was our selfish time. (Do you love how I listed TV last, as if it was a last resort?)
But in the months After Ollie (A.O.), not so much. I can't seem to figure out how to run errands with a boy in a car seat (that takes up an entire shopping cart) who can only stay up for two hours at a time. And when his evening nap coincides with walking the dog, well, what to do? And running? Not happening except on Saturdays because I just can't give up our afternoons and it's just too dark and dangerous to do it while kids are asleep. So I struggle.
For some reason, the idea of dividing and conquering has only recently occurred to me. For us, we've just always done things together. But I think, for a little while at least, I am going to have to reevaluate. It might just have to happen that only Rhett and I go to pug group or walk Bruno in the afternoons while Chuck stays with a napping Ollie. And maybe I have to spend Monday nights at the grocery store, alone, instead of working on my latest Pinterest project. Do I like this? Nope. Does it take hard work to think in this new paradigm? Yep. But it's my little life and I'm just going to have to adjust.
And really, when I have this guy looking at me, it sure does make it a joyful little life.
P.S. I've been to known to complain just the tiniest bit about Maryland's weather. So in order to be fair, I must state that Maryland has delivered the most amazing November ever. I'm not lying. Highs have been in the 50s and 60s and days have been mostly sunny. And the fall foliage! Simply breathtaking. I will always try to give credit when credit is due.
P.P.S. If I'm doling out credit, some must be given to Chuck. In the past week he performed three miracles: (1) picking up the weeks-old cricket carcass that I couldn't make myself do, (2) unloading the dishwasher unasked, and (3) getting a new bar of soap after he used up the last one. Hallelujah!
Rhett: Excuuuuuuuuse me. Do you know why I said it in a long, squiggly voice?
Me: No, I don't; why?
Rhett: Because my fart was long and squiggly.
I'm wearing my hair in a sock bun and Rhett's seeing it for the first time.
Rhett: I like your hair, Mom.
Me: Thanks. Why?
Rhett: Because the back of it looks like a donut!
Rhett's eating lunch before church while Chuck and I are running around getting stuff ready. Out of nowhere, Rhett asks the following:
Rhett: Mom, what kind of woman are you?
When I asked him what I meant, I think he wanted to know what my job is. When I asked him what kind of woman he thought I was, he said, "President."
In the car on the way home from church, we were talking about someone yelling swearwords at a friend of mine. We obviously didn't say the swearwords, nor call them that. I think we referred to them as bad words.
Rhett: What are those bad words, Mom?
Me: Well, I'm not going to tell you!
Rhett: But I want you to tell me so that when you say them, I can tell you to stop saying them!
Rhett often reminds us that "hate" and "stupid" are not allowed.
P.S. My parents got their mission call to Tokyo! How cool is that?!
(Argh. Stupid Silly Blogger. I didn't mean to post this but I guess I have to now.)
