Certain Caesura

An Announcement:

2011-10-20T11:42:00.000+11:00

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

3:07 pm

6 pounds, 1 ounce

18 inches

teeny tiny toes

Happy Birthday to our third little girl, Charlotte.

It's Complicated

2011-02-26T00:55:00.001+10:00

Grief is a complicated matter.

It is especially so for those of us who have truly experienced it at its worst. Losing a child qualifies, I think.

Having a dead baby puts me into a unique category of people. They're out there, somewhere, though they don't talk about it much, and they have experienced what I am going through in some manner or another.

Most people who are close to me, those who love me and are hurting for me and so forth have not had an experience anything like mine. They have no knowledge of the kind of grief that I now know first-hand.

Some of them pretend to be experts. They inform me that I should be done with my grief. They've decided that I choose to feel grief. They believe that I should change my perspective, come out of it, and get over it.

This tells me that they do not understand a single thing about grief.

I don't choose for my emotions to overwhelm me. I do not choose to be attacked by myself when least expected. I do not choose to be angry over nothing. I do not choose to cry. I do not choose to lose sleep because my thoughts run rampant. I do not choose to have my loss thrown at me and shoved in my face every day, multiple times. I do not choose this fight.

And yet here I am.

You see, everyone else, they are affected. They have emotions that are caused by this situation. They have been fighting as well, only their fight is pretty much over. Compared to mine, it hardly exists. They suffered, but from an indirect hit. They've fought their fight and had ample numbers, superior implements, and they have won swiftly and easily.

I, on the other hand, am engaged in a war...one that has multiple battles over varied terrain and in poor weather conditions...and I will be fighting, to an extent, for the rest of my life.

There is a huge difference, and yet some believe with all that they are that I choose this for my life...that I am still experiencing grief because I am choosing to. They have no experience in these matters, as this did not happen to them, but they are the experts.

I find that extremely frustrating.

And yet, they are not to be swayed; they will not listen; there is nothing I can do to even begin to explain how things really are.

On the other hand, there are those who, if they do not hear from me in a day or two, assume the absolute worst. They think I am suicidal and that my life is in ruins. They have no confidence in me. They believe I will fail.

Part of my life is ruined. My life as I knew it, my life as I thought it was going to be is ruined.

I am not ruined.

How am I supposed to deal with all of that? Is it not enough that I am dealing with my baby girl, Addison Leigh, being buried in the ground far, far away? Is it not enough that I have that loss, that devastation, that waste to deal with?

I cannot deal with all of the experts informing me that I am doing this wrong. I cannot deal with those who assume that I am ruined and will fail. I do not know how to deal with them and quite frankly, I spend most of my effort dealing with losing my baby girl.

I want to stop having to focus on what others are thinking of me. I want to just focus on dealing with my grief. When people inundate me with "expert advice" and their own personal worries, it sucks me out of whatever progress I've made and plops me down right back at the beginning all over again.

It is a war, people. I am the general. I am in the thick of it; I have first-hand knowledge and know better than most what is needed, what works and what does not. Right now I have too many politicians, cabinet members and commander-in-chiefs in the war-room spouting at me. If it continues, then they'll be right, all of them: I will fail.

******************

I'm probably going to take a break from the blogging and face-booking. I won't be gone, just not so present. I will write about what I need to in order to heal. I am not climbing the closest bridge in order to jump, nor am I choosing to have grief. No one chooses to have a dead baby; therefore, no one chooses to have the grief associated with it. Please let me grieve. It is healthy and it is the only way to heal.

Hmmm...Art...

2011-02-21T20:48:00.000+10:00

While in Seoul, South Korea last July for pregnancy-related medical things, we took some photos of some sculptures and buildings near our hotel:

One building across the street from our hotel had this huge circle-thing.

In front of the coex mall there were a few installations...

Like this one.

And this one.

What kind of character thinks up these things anyway?

********************************

For...your viewing pleasure, I suppose?...two photos of the family:

Crazy-blurred two-year-old.

The family, all full of hope and promise after a good doctor visit.

All to be destroyed forever sixteen weeks later.

International Fest

2011-02-20T18:06:00.044+10:00

Saturday, February 19th was International Fest here in Olympia. Our neighborhood consists of people from many places the world over and we celebrate this with an evening of food and information. Each nationality represented here in Olympia has a booth full of things characteristic to their country and everyone contributes national/typical foods to a pot-luck dinner.

It is very interesting to see what each country has to offer, especially those that we know little about. And by we I mean my family only, since many other people here know much more than we do about the world as they've either lived in many more places or visited many more than we.

Here are some photographs of the event:

Miss Thing playing, a.k.a. Running Around Like Crazy People, with her friend K.

Figuring out how the throwing and catching game will go.The rules are only known to 2- and 3-year-olds.

Aaaaaaannnnnnnnd, more of the running.

Pretending we don't know her.

A few of the booths had trinkets, pencils, beach-balls and other goodies for the kids to play with. Between that and the running and noise-making, they were definitely kept busy. This gave everyone else some time to chat and visit all of the booths to see what was on display.

United States of America

Australia

France

Finland

Canada

Malaysia

Venezuela

Scotland

Japan

Spoils

Soldier Interpretation

2011-02-19T23:28:00.000+10:00

So, what do you think?

Is she in character, or what?

Hello, Blondie!

2011-02-18T19:01:00.003+10:00

I thought I'd shift gears for a bit and let you all see some of the character of another country. When I was twenty weeks pregnant, the three (plus one) of us took a trip to Seoul, South Korea in order for me to have some blood work done (and they went ahead and did the ultrasound there as well). We spent about three days there, one of which was completely taken by visiting the medical center.

One thing we noticed is that everyone (Korean) there loved Miss Thing. It did not matter if we were on the sidewalk, in the hotel, riding the subway, visiting a temple or aquarium: everyone loved her. Even at the hospital everyone was enamored. Children would stare at her and all of the adults would play with her. I imagine that if we ever lived there it would be quite the ego booster.

It appeared as if one reason they loved her so much was her hair. It was quite blond at the time, and had still not been cut, so it was wispy and a bit curly in the back. A few Koreans even came up to her and wanted to touch her hair.

If they saw her from afar, they would poke their neighbors and point, gushing about her in some way or another. It was a good distraction for her when we were in transit, though overall she really didn't notice the attention as she was busy herself, and it became a bit disconcerting for us as it could take some time to maneuver through the crowds of...admirers.

Coming from the U.S. and having visited in Japan and living in Russia, I can say that other cultures, if they feel this way (which I highly doubt), do not show their...pleasure at seeing her in this manner.

It was interesting and unique, thus far, to Korea.

I Think You're Confused

2011-02-17T16:52:00.000+10:00

Dear Weather,

I imagine it must be difficult for you, being everywhere all at once. Taxing, yes? Generally you do a great job. For example, where I grew up, in southwest Virginia, you were pretty predictable. We'd have a nice spring, hot summer, beautiful fall and average winter, complete with some snow. Then for a few years things were off. There was no snow, really...and this was not quite in character for you.

You've made up for that the last couple of years, though I believe there are some who would say that you've gone a bit overboard in making up for lost winter.

In Spain, where we've spent some time, you did a fantastic job. Excellent weather, all year. You made sure there was enough rain in the late fall and winter to keep everyone from having a drought in the warmer months. The breeze off of the Mediterranean was sufficient for keeping us cooler in the summer and the clear days were plenty. You were completely yourself.

Oh, and Houston? Well, let's just say that there humidity is your one, innate, constant. You always provide an abundance of humidity in that locale...and plenty of heat as well, when necessary.

This brings us to Russia.

Hmmmm, Russia.

Now, I've only been here a very short while. Since May, with a four-month...sabbatical, if you will...but your work here leaves some things to be desired. We began our time with a summer to beat all summers here in Yuzhno. Apparently you thought that the humidity and heat of Houston should follow me somewhat to the north.

I disagree with that decision. Being pregnant in humid and warm Sakhalin was not the best of circumstances, to say the least.

And now? Now we've got a pretend winter. You started off beautifully, with a three to four foot snow as soon as we returned in January. Since then you seem to have lost your way. There is melting going on, and it is February. Might I remind you that this is usually when you get geared up for another month and a half of snow? The workers are plowing the streets into a muddy mess meant for April.

My deduction is that this behavior on your part is, well, completely out of character.

I'm hoping that you've just been busy elsewhere being yourself, though it appears that you're acting a bit out of character all over the world. So if you could, you know, get back to your roots and be more like yourself, it would be greatly appreciated.

I, for one, am a little tired of everything in my life being so unpredictable.

Awaiting more snow,
Me

... ... ... ...

2011-02-16T21:10:00.001+10:00

Let's see.

Miss Thing went from being a champion sleeper (attributed to finally being home and knowing it) to a let's-not-go-to-sleep-and-whine-and-cry-about-it-for-over-an-hour non-sleeper last night (attributed to some molars methinks).

Then I spent an unknown amount of time completing some homework for class here in Olympia.

We went to bed and I thought it was maybe 9:30 or so.

This makes no sense whatsoever (see above).

I was reading Tai Pan in bed for a while before going to sleep.

When I finally decided to look at the clock it was almost 3:20am.

Yeah...

And after I thought Holy smokes!, turned the light off and closed my eyes, my non-sleeper began act fifteen of her non-sleeping performance.

So basically I didn't get to sleep until at least 4:30am.

And then the sleep that occurred was the kind with a toddler in your bed because yes, it was that kind of night.

It was either that, or no sleep for anyone, and I chose sleep, thanks.

What am I trying to say?

I don't have a post for you today.

My apologies.

Hopefully the sleep-monster will spend some time at someone else's home tonight.

Flaw

2011-02-15T21:44:00.001+10:00

I just spent my entire evening cleaning out my pantry.

Oh, sure, there were a few other things that occurred, like feeding and bathing the child and yes, I just finished putting her down in bed, but aside from that: cleaning the pantry.

An entire evening should not be spent in this manner and yet...mine was.

This must mean that there is a flaw in my character.

A serious one.

A Country's Character

2011-02-14T03:33:00.000+10:00

I was at a loss today on character...and then: AHA! A large part of Australia's character comes from all of the immigration that has taken place over the years and hellooooo, we went to the Immigration Museum on Saturday.

The museum itself was very interesting, from what I gathered. You see, I am the Mama and therefore I don't really get to read a whole lot of the information for each exhibit. I read enough to keep Miss Thing interested and then we must move alone. I am sure Matt can tell you much more about it than I.

You know, if work things haven't pushed that info out of his head yet...which I am not going to guarantee since he spent all Saturday afternoon working.

Yes, folks, we are not really visiting Melbourne with Matt, but at the same time as he. He left every day before we woke and came back late, late, late after having diner out with work peeps.

Miss Thing and I were left to our own devices, which is absolutely, completely fine with us - we knew it was that kind of trip. Just wanted to be sure everyone knew why exactly I wasn't writing about him at all. Still love him and all that jazz; he was just working!

One fun-for-kids section of the Immigration Museum was a huge boat-like installment where you could see the traveling conditions over the years. The first photo was a state room of some sort and this latest one is of the more modern, yet less comfortable in some regards, mode of ship-travel. Miss Thing liked them both, but since this one has tiny ceramic animals at each bunk, it kinda won out.

Please excuse the hair; we are immediately post-nap here. Avec lolli. Which the lady at the Opal Museum/Shop gave her for being patient. I would not so much call it patient as not ear-splittingly loud, but to each their own.

The opal is the state stone and there were a billion to choose from, from dark opals to boulder opals to the above light opals. Australia produce some massive amount of the world's opals - something along ninety percent or so. It was interesting to see the opalized dino fossils, etc.

I am pretty sure that was the only part Miss Thing liked about that store.

Crazy Character

2011-02-13T03:33:00.006+10:00

I live with a crazy one.

Yes, indeed.

Don't look at me like that. You get to spend your time meandering around your tank, oblivious to my plight.

Okay, okay, so not oblivious, since we did visit you. But you only have to spend a very limited about of time with the crazy one.

Peek-A-Boo with fish is a very interesting game to play, don't you think?

No?

But it is so much fun and she can spend hours doing it.

How about staring up into the tanks via child-centered caves below? Can I tell you how much fun these caves are when she refuses to come out? I mean, visiting the aquarium is fun in itself, but having to drag her away, literally, just "'cause" does so much to enhance your visit.

Forget about taking normal pictures. Nope. For this one, she insisted that her hands be up and that she be saying "Whoooooo" the whole time.

What, you've never seen her insist?

Have you ever met a two-year-old?

Oh, THAT explains it.

Here she is, mid-movement, on her way to lie down and "swim" next to the fish. This is only after she informed me that the sharks would come up to see her and give her kisses.

Oh, they'll kiss you all right.

And then the required walking along the bench while we howl move.

Yes, howl.

In a public place.

Thanks.

She sure did enjoy the aquarium. And she's mighty happy with her souvenir: 20 tiny sea animals.

Full of Character

2011-02-12T17:25:00.001+10:00

Yesterday we spent our morning at the Melbourne Aquarium. The main attraction is the penguin visit, and everyone gets to see them right off the bat. As we were a little later starting our day, we were lucky enough to be there just as they were finishing up with feeding time.

"Penguins!"

Miss Thing has a penguin, given to her by her Guga, that was her very first "I must have it to sleep!" item. It looks exactly like these penguins:

Full of food...and ourselves.

I must say that for an animal, penguins sure do have a lot of character. As in I believe they are quite full of themselves. Or at least they appear to be. I can see why full-feature films have been made about / casting them.

Not so sure about you two...

The exhibit shows them in their cold habitat, complete with swim area. There was one that was attached to a man standing at the viewing window. It kept swimming up to him and playing with his hair...or trying to at least. It just wouldn't leave him alone. Then there was the above penguin, who kept swimming back at us, casting a suspicious eye.

"Swim, swim!"

Of course, since I was the human with the little human who just had to pretend to be swimming right there in the aquarium, I can hardly blame him.

Not Me

2011-02-11T15:45:00.000+10:00

These feet will never travel with me.

Everywhere we go here in Melbourne there are families. We've been hitting the tourist sites geared towards families, so this makes perfect sense. It just means that I get punched in the gut multiple times a day.

There are families everywhere we go. Mothers with their child, about Miss Thing's age, and pregnant with another. Mothers and Fathers with their two children: one Miss Thing's age and one newly welcomed into this world.

As much fun as we have; as many sites as we see, the realization that I should not be here as we are is very acute. It strikes me at any moment, completely unaware. We most likely would not be visiting here at all, if Addison were not in a hole in the ground with only a stone marker to show "who" she is.

She is not anyone, really, and she never will be.

If we had been adventurous enough to visit Melbourne with her in tow, my time traversing the city would be quite different. More difficult, I am sure, but I'd rather have the difficulty than the constant reminder that something/someone is hugely missing, lost, gone.

Everywhere we go, there are families.

These families, the Moms and Dads, they look at me as I look at them. They see me, but they do not. They think they know that I am a Mother-of-One with no apparent plans for more. They see me dealing with my one and only living child and they think to themselves, just wait 'til you have two.

I want to shout at them that I've had two; I am left with one. If only they could understand that my experience of "having two" is so very different than their own. So different.

But they'll never understand. Not unless it happens to them.

Those who have had living children can imagine what it might be like to bury one. Those who have very recently had a child can imagine better than most how horrible it might be to deliver a dead baby instead of a live one. And even then, people who have had children don't really get it at all.

Those who have not had children have no clue at all. Not even a tiny hint. Sometimes I wish they knew that about themselves, that they have no clue. It would make things much easier...or maybe it would not at all.

It will be like this for the rest of my life. I will have a child, buried far, far away from me forever. I will have a child that most I encounter know nothing about because she is not right there, living, in front of them. No matter where we live or travel, people will see me as one thing and have no clue that I am someone else entirely.

And the only way for them to know is if I tell them.

Do you know what that is like? Telling someone you have a dead baby? It is like giving death and devastation to someone.

What a lovely gift.

I've already given that gift to plenty; I have no desire to give it to others. Oh, sure, there will be those who ask questions or get to know me enough that I will eventually have to tell them. But in general? Not something I enjoy telling people because as I said, it's like giving someone death and devastation.

Being the bearer of that, giving my husband that was enough for me.

And so instead I will have to walk this Earth as someone I am not. I will be observed to be, perceived to be, assumed to be, someone that I am not.

So you see, I cannot even be myself when I'm being myself.

Not any more.

That has been taken from me, and most people, they just don't get it.

They have nary a clue.

Showing Some Character

2011-02-10T22:00:00.000+10:00

We had another busy day today in Melbourne. For those of you who do not know me personally, or somewhat personally, we are visiting the city for a few days while Matt has business here. We'll be returning to Sakhalin soon, no worries!

Our day began with breakfast and a visit to Saint Paul's Cathedral. Miss Thing really enjoyed hearing the organ and seeing paintings of The Man. We then hopped onto the Circle Tram and rode up to visit the Melbourne Museum.

The tram stop is in front of Carlton Garden, so we walked right on through there to get to our destination. Miss Thing chose to show some, err, character along the way today.

Posing

At one end of the garden is a huge fountain...well liked by dogs, apparently, as one was quite wet from playing in it...that Miss Thing loved. We had to take a closer look and have a photograph.

Cheesing

Our main goal at Melbourne Museum: see dinosaurs. While she was a tad bit confused as to why we couldn't see them or where they live and instead had to look at their bones, she seemed okay with the state of things. Something she was not sure of was the small glass-top display in the floor. It took her about three minutes to get across that thing - apparently ones feet must touch the whole way. She shouted a triumphant "I did it!" when she completed her journey.

Are you sure about this, Mama?

There were many excellent exhibits at the museum, but her favorite section was the Children's Museum. She could be measured and weighed - in wombats, of course. She worked puzzles, climbed on animals, built with blocks and placed Australian animals on a magnetic wall. She was sad to leave.

How Many Wombats Tall are You?

Wheeeee!

When I told her that we had to ride the tram back to our, as she has named it, hotel-house, she informed me that she was to have pizza and a lolli-pop for lunch. Who am I to disagree? Off we went to ride the tram once more, pick up food, and eat in our room. We then took a nap.

Afterwards we headed back out. Today was a very Houston-like day in Melbourne. The humidity was through the roof and the temps were up as well. Icky does not really begin to describe it. At least we're used to it. We had quite a walk to the Royal Botanic Gardens, where we hunted out the Children's Garden. It was full of child-sized plants and those named for their shapes, etc.

Let's Move It!

One section was a bamboo forest. She is exhibiting some Mama-like tendencies lately. This is not surprising since she spends most of her time with me, but I am talking about those I exhibited as a child - ones that she knows nothing about. For example, every time we have to walk into a slightly darkened area, she hesitates and considers not going. Then she wants to hold my hand or, better yet, to send me first. You know, so I can take one for the team if need be. The bamboo forest was one such locale.

Bamboooooooo

We exited the Children's Garden and found this huge ball near the visitor center for the main gardens. Miss Thing was very interested in it; she really wanted it to roll. Perhaps she thought Clifford could play with it? She just had to get out and see if she could push it. Then when she failed, I had to take a turn, which she thought was very funny indeed.

Puuuuuuuuush!

On our way home we walked over to the Shrine of Remembrance. Miss Thing liked the eternal flame quite a bit. From there it was a sticky but not so long walk back to the hotel where we cooled off and de-stickified ourselves before heading back into the wall of humid to get some dinner: hot dogs and cupcakes. Mmmmm.

Choices

2011-02-09T21:56:00.000+10:00

I've heard that choices can define your character. In some instances, I agree. In others, I believe it can be as simple as how you react that defines your character.

It all depends, really.

______________________________

Today we chose to go to the Melbourne Zoo.

Therefore we chose to wear sunscreen.

We are not burned and that, my friends is a wonderful thing.

We chose to eat breakfast at McDonalds. Miss Thing enjoyed a cheese muffin, banana and some potato. The cashier chose to look at me like I'm crazy when I asked for cheese only...and like I'd just turned my hair purple right on the spot when I asked for milk. I chose to ignore her and drink water instead.

We chose to take the tram to the zoo instead of the train. We saw a bit of the city and Miss Thing really enjoyed the view.

There were all sorts of interesting things at the zoo, both living and not. I chose to let Miss Thing look at whatever interested her. This "Fountain, Mama!" was a hit.

These pelicans chose to ignore Miss Thing when she demanded that they say "Caw, caw!" I chose to inform her that I am fairly certain they do not say such a thing.

So she chose to demand that they say "Tweet! Tweet!"

There were live seals at the zoo, but Miss Thing chose to play in the sand with these sculpture versions instead.

This meant that we had to clean her shoes out later on, but she really enjoyed petting and hugging them...something she certainly could not do with the live ones.

The Elephant area was fabulous indeed, especially all of the village type buildings. Miss Thing chose to ride on the grand-daughter of the elephant trek exhibit. No, really, they were labeled and this one is the grand-daughter.

We chose to eat lunch after the elephants so that Miss Thing would not have to act like a looney tune. Then we headed to the Australian animals and saw the kangaroos. Unfortunately for her, there were no joeys.

One of the last animals we visited before we left were the Koalas. Miss Thing was fascinated.

I chose to get Miss Thing an animal from the gift shop. I tried very hard to convince her that a Koala would be best. She looked at it and chose no. She then looked around and set her sights on a Meerkat. This was all well and good until she saw some tiny animals in a bin. "Mama, I want that one!" "This one?" "No, THAT one." "Which one?" "The one with the TAIL!"

Miss E? She chose a camel.

No, there weren't any camels at the zoo today.

I chose to go with the flow and get her the camel. As you can see, it was a very good $3.00 investment.

The End is in Sight

2011-02-08T03:33:00.002+10:00

Origin of Character
Middle English caracter
From Latin character mark, distinctive quality
From Greek charaktēr
From charassein to scratch, engrave; perhaps akin to Lithuanian žerti to scratch

_________________________________________________

Okey Dokey.

We're down to the last of them. There are two groups today, for a total of seven characters in total. Only five of them actually have sounds. These five are characters that represents what we would call blends in English. We would use two letters to make these sounds and they choose to use one. Here they are:

Ж - ZH as in pleasure
Ц - TS as in cats
Ч - CH as in chair
Ш - SH as in shadow
Щ - shsh as in Spanish Sherry*

*Example taken directly from my Russian lessons; not an obsession on my part, I promise!

As for the final two, they are the hard sign and the soft sign. They make no actual sound themselves, but effect pronunciation.

Hard sign - Ъ - makes a tiny pause between syllables; rare.

Soft sign - Ь - softens the preceding consonant, as if adding a soft y to it.

There you have it. The Russian alphabet, all thirty-three characters (if I haven't missed one, anyway). The first hurdle in learning this language. Once jumped, things do get easier.

No, really.

Double Take

2011-02-07T03:33:00.005+10:00

Origin of Character


Middle English caracter
From Latin character mark, distinctive quality
From Greek charaktēr
From charassein to scratch, engrave; perhaps akin to Lithuanian žerti to scratch

_________________________________________________

We can now move on to those characters that look nothing like any letters we've ever used but that at second glance represent some very familiar sounds. Thankfully, there are only eight of these and you already know one.

Here they are:

П - P as in pie
Л - L as in little
Б - B as in boy
Г - G as in green
И - EE as in meet
З - Z as in zippy
Д - D as in duck
Ф - F as in fish

There are some tricks to help remember a few of them. The P character looks almost exactly like the symbol for pi, and by golly, it begins with the same sound. The B character looks very much like a b. The Z character looks pretty similar to the cursive upper-case Z that I was taught in elementary school. The D character is hand-written as a triangle much like a rudimentary roof on a house might be...and house in Russian is DOM, which of course starts with D, soooooooo......

I have no trick for the F, G or the L...although you should know that the latter is usually hand-written as an upside down V.

Not that THAT helps you at all, but ANYWAY.

We can end all of this insanity tomorrow, I promise.

Unless you enjoy this kinda thing...which from the lack of comments, I am guessing that would be a no...

ONWARD!

I'd Like to Buy a Vowel Please, Pat.

2011-02-06T21:52:00.004+10:00

Origin of Character
Middle English caracter
From Latin character mark, distinctive quality
From Greek charaktēr
From charassein to scratch, engrave; perhaps akin to Lithuanian žerti to scratch

_________________________________________________

Let's talk about those pricey little creatures. The English language has five official vowels: A, E, I, O, U. Then there's that pesky Y...it's no wonder Y is such a misfit, what with all of the identity issues.

Aside: anyone else just start singing the misfit song from Rudolph just then?

I'll begin with the Russian vowels that most closely sound like our very own. You already know two of them: A and O. I bet you can guess which of our vowels they resemble. You are so clever, I tell ya! Here's the full five of them:

A - AH as in father
Э - EH as in met
И - EE as in meet*
O - OH as in oat; AH as in off
У - OO as in hoot

*The only one that is not the same sound is the И. Instead of an IH as in pin, Russian uses an EE sound just like the Spanish i. Again with the Spanish comparisons...lo siento (there it is!), but these are the only three languages I've studied, hence my frame of reference.

In addition to these five we're used to these vowel sounds there are six (count 'em!) more. This probably sounds like a lot, but keep in mind that in Russian every sound has its own character. They don't put two letters together to make new sounds like we do in English. So while initially there are more characters to learn, in the end things are far easier.

In my mind (welcome to the crazy), I divide these last six into two categories: those with a Y as in yet sound in front and those without. You've been introduced to one: E - YE as in yet. Or you have if you've been reading and I haven't bored you senseless. Here are those with a Y sound:

Я - YA as in yard
E - YE as in yesterday (change it up!)
Ё - YO as in yonder (without the southern accent, people)
Ю - YOO as in universe

This leaves us with two characters: Й and Ы

Yes, the first looks just like the EE sound, but with a smile on top of it. That character says Y as in the very end of the word toy. For all of us English speakers, our Russian teacher allows us to think of it as OY, but really the O part of that should be quite short...and I for one am not good at that, so I stick with the OY. The second, which looks like bl, is an interesting character...character. To quote my lessons:

"Ы sounds rather like i in ill (say it by keeping your mouth very slightly open and drawing your tongue back as far as it will go)."

Did you get that? Anyone trying it right now? It is rather difficult, even with (or perhaps in spite of) that description. We all say it a little differently, so no worries. As the last two are most frequently (as far as I've encountered them, anyway) used to indicate plural, it really isn't something to worry about. We all just make an EE/OY/I-Y sound on the end of plural words and it all works out...in the end.

Jeepers.

Looks Can Be Deceiving

2011-02-05T10:22:00.001+10:00

Origin of Character
Middle English caracter
From Latin character mark, distinctive quality
From Greek charaktēr
From charassein to scratch, engrave; perhaps akin to Lithuanian žerti to scratch

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Yesterday I showed you the five Russian characters that look and sound exactly like their twins in the English language. Today I will move on to the ones that look exactly the same but sound different.

B - V as in very
E - YE as in yet
H - N as in noon
P - R as in real*
C - S as in sailing**
Y - OO as in oops
X - J as in jota*

Impressions of these characters vary greatly. Some believe that they are easy to learn because they are easily recognizable letters and therefore all you need to learn are their new sounds. Others find them to be some of the most difficult because they do indeed look just like our alphabet, and re-learning their sounds can prove to be difficult.

I tend to fall into the latter category. When you're first learning to read and have mastered the thirty-three characters/sounds, you start to read just a little bit faster - more like you read English. That is when these letters sneak up on you and trick you. Our native languages are very ingrained in our minds and using them is very natural to us; therefore, we are inclined to use the sound known best/longest instead of the one recently learned.

A few explanations, for the characters above that are starred:

* both of these sound like Spanish letters. The character P make the sound of a rolling R in español. Real is the Spanish word for Royal. The character X makes a guttural English H sound, like the end of the word loch and like the Spainsh letter J, called jota.

And just for information's sake, a jota is also a Spanish dance.

**The character C makes one, and only one, of our English sounds for the same letter. In Russian it makes the S sound, never the K. For the hard sound, they have a K...much like we do.

Why we insist on having TWO letters that say K is beyond me and yet one tiny example of how English is a confusing and difficult language to learn.

Words that you can now read/say/know in Russian:

MAMA, TOPOHTO, COYC, PECTOPAH
MAPC, METPO, POM, TPAKTOP
KOT, TEATP, KAKAO, KOCMOHABT
BENA, MOCKBA, CAXAP, KACCETA

Mama, Toronto, sauce, restaurant
Mars, metro, rum, tractor
cat, theater, cocoa, cosmonaut
Vienna, Moscow, sugar, cassette

Look at you go!

The Easy Ones

2011-02-04T21:30:00.001+10:00

Origin of Character

Middle English caracter, from Latin character mark, distinctive quality
From Greek charaktēr
From charassein to scratch, engrave; perhaps akin to Lithuanian žerti to scratch

_____________________________________

Learning a new language is challenging. I love to learn new ones and I think that I do an okay job of it. Studying music has certainly helped with hearing the nuances of speaking different languages. Not that this means that I pronounce things properly, just that I am very aware when I do not.

Which, when speaking Russian, occurs frequently.

Learning Spanish was very natural for me; I learned quickly and spoke fairly fluently...or at least I did when I was living in Spain. While traveling around Europe I found that I could read and/or understand other languages fairly easily as well. Mostly this was because they are similar. My success should also be attributed to the fact that I just hear them and can repeat them well. Again, this is due to the whole listening/music thing.

Or at least that is what I think.

Russian is very different. It sounds completely...well, foreign...and it feels drastically different in your mouth. I rather like all of the consonants smashed up against one another. There are very few similarities between the words in Russian and English; I found many more between Spanish and English.

One of the most...Oh, no, I couldn't possibly learn that...facets of the Russian language is the fact that it does not use our alphabet. In addition to sounding completely different, the letters look like nothing we've ever used.

Or they look just like ours but they sound nothing like any of our letters.

Or they look like one of our letters but sound like yet another of our letters.

Or, and here's the nice part, they look and sound exactly like our letters.

I thought I would take a few days to share with you the Russian alphabet. It is a variant of the Cyrillic alphabet (derived from Greek) and contains thirty three characters.

To keep your introduction to Russian simple, I thought I would start with those letters that look and sound just like ours:

A - AH as in saw
K - K as in keep
M - M as in Mom
O - OH as in oat; AH as in Off
T - T as in tie

There you have it; five letters that look and sound exactly as they would in English. Tomorrow I'll show you some more. You'll be "reading" Russian in no time...though you may have no clue what it says...

Join the club; we all start out that way!

What a Character

2011-02-03T22:08:00.000+10:00

Character

7a. a person marked by notable or conspicuous traits: quite a character

Conspicuous

1. obvious to the eye or mind: conspicuous changes
2. attracting attention: striking a conspicuous success

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Lately Miss Thing has been demonstrating some...character. Most notable is that demonstrated with all things musical. She does indeed love to sing, dance and play instruments. I would not go so far as to say that she is adept at any of the activities, but boy does she love it.

Her favorite instrument is the kazoo. We Santa gave her some rhythm instruments for Christmas. She was very excited. She somehow managed to break the drum on the tambourine on Christmas Day. Who knew it wasn't strong enough for a two-year-old to stand on it, eh?

What is obvious to most is rocket science for some.

It took her a while, but now she is most capable of kazoo-ing (new verb, alert the dictionary people!). Granted, her kazoo sounds most like a goose and least like music, but hey, she's got the whole blow air + hum = sound thing down.

Small steps, people. All towards an eventual band member, indeed.

Let's just hope she will one day realize that the humming is to be dropped.

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Dancing, more aptly called moving-to-music has always been a favorite activity. This is most likely because I like to sing songs to her and move to them as well. I mean, if you're going to be singing children's songs, then you should be moving around like an idiot. The movement goes right along with how you feel about what you're singing in the first place...right?

She's had a variety of favorites along the way, but right now Wheels on the Bus is the Number One Hit at our place. You can ask her what anyone/anything does on that bus and she will tell you:

The Guga on the Bus says "Chicka-boom, Chicka-boom."
Uncle Brent on the Bus says "Rub noses, Rub noses."
Pop-Pop on the bus says "You're a Stinker-Pot!"
Geat Ganny on the bus says "Wheeeeee, Doggies!"
Uncle Mike on the bus says "Trouble, trouble, trouble!"
Zorro on the bus says "Catch the ball, catch the ball."

Some of my favorite verses include:

The airplane on the bus says "Go higher, go higher."
The books on the bus go "Read, read, read."
The trains on the bus go "choo-choo, choo-choo."
The Kassie on the bus goes "Don't you peek!"

You can ask her for anything and she will come up with an answer for their bus-ride.

Recently she's been attending a dance class. I have no idea what they do in there because parents aren't allowed. The teacher is Russian, so I can't really ask what they do either. I have found out that Miss Thing pays attention very well and works very hard for fifteen minutes, which the teacher tells me is twice as long as most students her age.

Then she plays.

While the other kids are still having class.

Yeah....

So I'll be picking her up after fifteen minutes from now on.

Yesterday she went to class dressed like so:

"So pretty, Mama!"

I asked her to show me what she learned in class and she took a long, oh so long, time staring at her feet. She then demanded "Mama, help me!" and we ended up with this:

First position-ish.

I asked her what she did with her arms at class, since she was very sure of her feet/legs, and she began to move them up and down like so:

Then she ran around in circles, in a so-not-ballet fashion.

I'm pretty sure that was the play portion of the lesson.

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

Singing is her most favorite activity. I ~~blame~~ attribute this to The Wonder Pets. For the uninitiated, A.K.A Those Without Children, The Wonder Pets are three little animals who save other animals using teamwork. In addition, they sing their entire day/story/event. An entire show, sung by Linny the guinea-pig, Tuck the turtle and Ming-Ming the duckling. Every show is entitled The Wonder Pets save the insert animal name here.

What they really need is a The Wonder Pets Save the Parents show where we are made immune to the melodies and therefore do not dream in Wonder-Pet-Song all night long.

You know, just to provide us with a slightly larger chance of sanity.

Miss Thing adores these characters and spends much of her day singing things to me because of them. The most amazing thing to me is that she can truly improvise (on a two-year-old level) with her words. As for the melodies, well...let's just say that she either wouldn't make the cut on American Idol or she'd be one of those "human-interest"/"get ready to laugh" segments.

A perfect example of her new-found ability to sing about anything/change words at will is the blessing.

Yes, the blessing.

She knows one, learned from her cousins, that goes to the tune of Frère Jacques. The words are as follows:

God our Father, God our Father
We thank you, we thank you
For our many blessings, for our many blessings
A-men, A-men.

One night we were all sitting at the table, hands clasped as directed (she likes film-work too, apparently), eyes closed and waiting. She sang her usual blessing with one small change...

Amen, sister!

Amen, indeed!

Playing My Part

2011-02-02T03:33:00.003+10:00

Character:

7 b: one of the persons of a drama or novel
7 c: the personality or part which an actor recreates

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My life had a plan.

An only slightly planned plan, if that makes any sense, but a plan. The train was on the track and we were all headed towards the goal...or at least a short-term one.

Then the train was derailed, all in a few terrifying moments in the early morning of October 22, 2010. My baby girl, so carefully planned for, suffocated inside of my body.

From that moment in time, my life has been on a different path. So much is the same and yet everything is different. I've gone from being very sure of our heading to having no clue where we're going at all.

It feels very much like what I imagine it would be like to suddenly become someone else, perhaps even a character in a book. Many times I feel like I have been suddenly yanked away into someone else's life, someone else's story.

And yet it is my own.

The supporting cast (and I mean that literally as well as figuratively) are my husband, my child, my family and my friends. They are all here with me and it is they who make it clear that this is mine.

And yet it is not.

This is not what was supposed to happen. This is not what I am supposed to be doing. Instead of this massive grief I am supposed to be describing my two-month-old daughter, how she relates to her father and sister and yes, how the non-sleep is driving me bonkers.

People here in Russia are supposed to be cooing over my precious little one instead of asking me how I am doing and then waiting after I respond with "Fine, and how are you?" for me to...I don't even know...break down, freak out, explain my myriad of emotions...who knows.

But now, you see, all of that, all of the supposed to be is the not to be and is instead the other track, the other path, the other story...the one in which I play no part...no part at all.

I have my story-line. It has been firmly, rudely, and decidedly placed before me. That nice, lovely, what should-have-been story is non-existant, at least for me.

So here I am, a character in a novel I haven't read. One that might as well have been written in Mandarin Chinese for all I can do is blunder through it, not comprehending. I don't know my place; I don't know my lines; I cannot figure out where the story is headed because I do not belong in this story.

And yet this is it. This is my only spot, the only place for me. It is so very difficult to not think of what was and what should have been. It is tough to experience my life without my second daughter in it. That is the point, however; is it not? For if she were here, I would not be experiencing my life.

I'd be a character in some made-up story.

A Lack of Character

2011-02-01T03:33:00.002+10:00

Those of you who have been reading for a while know that last year I was participating in NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) as frequently as possible. Then I got pregnant and moved to Russia and I just couldn't do it every day. I am sure that those of you who have been reading recently can understand why I have not been posting all that much, and some of you are probably glad, given the topics of late, but I am writing today to let you know that I am going to participate this month.

In addition, I'd like you to know that the entire month's posts will not be about Addison. Or at least, that is not my plan. Granted, I tend to write about her and my experiences regarding her whenever the feeling strikes me, but really, I have plans to write about other things.

No, really.

***********************

The topic for February 2011 is Character. There are so many ways that one can go, yes? Let's take a look at one definition of the word, via Merriam-Webster online:

2a: one of the attributes or features that make up and distinguish an individual

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Addison does not nor will she ever have attributes or features to distinguish her. Yes, she looked, as best we could tell, like our child. She looked very much like Miss Thing's sister: similar but different. Aside from that, we have no idea what she would have looked like, what her features would be, and we never will. She did not open her eyes, so I will never be able to tell you if they, or her lips, or anything else are her best feature. We will simply never know, which is just one item of many on that list. Features are not really the point of this post, so now that I've gotten that out of the way...

Addison does not nor will she ever have attributes to distinguish her. She'll never love, never know her family, never be family. Yes, it is true that she will also never be hurt, never be teased, never have her heart broken...but since those are the things of which character is made, I'd much rather she have those experiences than be dead. And as for family, yes she is my daughter. She is a member of the family...but she's not family.

You know how there are people in your life who are your family though you are not related? I bet all of you reading this can name them immediately. They are those who "get" you, who are there for you when you're a peach and when you're a pain...they are the people who will do for you no matter what or when and they are those with whom you can have a conversation as if you saw them yesterday even if it has been years since you've spoken. That is family. Luckily for me, I have a lot of those people who are related to me for reals. And I am lucky enough to have some who aren't related to me in the slightest.

Addison will never be one of those people, not for me or you or some future friends. Through no fault of anyone she will simply never be, and therefore will have no actions and no words through which and with which she can show her true character.

We named her, but we will never know who "Addison" is. To pretend or say otherwise is ridiculous, fraudulent and unhealthy. A-d-d-i-s-o-n are just some letters on a piece of paper and on a grave stone. They don't stand for a person of character, but for the lack thereof.

***********************

When I was a young child, my family took a much anticipated trip to Disney World. I remember very little. I know that I woke my parents up no less than five times the night before we were to leave to ask "Is it time to go yet?" Amazingly they did not leave me at home. I remember being scared to death of Big Thunder Mountain (the tiniest roller-coaster ever made; yes I was a scaredy cat), loving It's A Small World (go figure), and that we rode the Peter Pan and Pirates of the Caribbean rides a bajillion times if we rode them once. Oh, and that my Dad couldn't let us go on a vacation without infusing some history, so we spent a day looking at battlefields. I am sure you can figure out how that went. If you've seen one, you've seen 'em all would suffice. Also: I had to take naps and my brother did not. So. Not. Cool.

We spent our entire day in a single park, more or less. My favorite day was when we went to Epcot. My Granny had given each of us some money to spend on whatever we wanted in Disney World, and I spent mine in Epcot. There was a whole section on using your imagination and it had a mascot: Figment. He was a light-purple dragon with a yellow belly and orange-tipped scales who wore a little shirt, if I remember correctly. 'Cause you know, a proper dragon is clothed. Oh, he was awesome. I don't remember much of what the display/show said, aside from how important an imagination is, but I do remember how much I loved my Figment.

I slept with him for ages, and every night after Mom and Dad put me to bed Figment and I would talk. As in I would even hold him such that I could move his head around while he talked to me. I don't know what we talked about, but I assure you I was using my imagination. He was so loved, in fact, that his neck got all worn out and his head permanently flopped over to one side...which makes me kinda sad. Poor Figment.

***********************

I believe an imagination is a wonderful thing. I had an active one. It helped me to comprehend the abstract, it assisted me with writing in school, it allowed me to make things, whether they be music or writing, aesthetically pleasing and it allowed the books I read to come to life. It helps me to this day with all of those things. I foster an imagination in my child and hope that she continues to have an active and abundant imagination as she grows.

The thing is, in order for Addison to be someone, I have to use my imagination. It is only there that she can exist as more than a dead baby. Only as a figment of my imagination can she be someone, anyone, and yet because I know that "imagine" is not real, even that is fake, false, just pretend.

***********************

There is only one who knows Addison. The great I Am. The one and only. He knows her. He knows her heart, her soul, her character.

That is enough for me.

We spend a lifetime raising our children to be responsible people who contribute positively to society. We teach them about God and show them as best we can that He is the one and only God. We hope that our children will know Him, His love, and that they will accept Him and live their lives according to His Word. We hope that He and they will be family, for He is the one true Father.

Addison is His. He knows her. She will be with him when Christ returns.

That is enough for me.

I do not know her. I will never know her. Addison is my dead baby, so I refer to her as such, especially on here as this is where I write, hence grieve. I cannot be expected to know her; for people to insist that I already do or for them to insist that to think of her as a dead baby is wrong is...confusing to me.

I cannot wish or hope to know her; it is futile; there is no promise of that. I can find solace in the fact that God knows her. He and only He, the one and only, the great I Am, knows my daughter Addison Leigh.

If I cannot know her, then my wish is that He should.

That is enough for me.

I know that she is saved. I know that she will be with God. I know that He loves her and that she will know His love. It is all that I can ask and hope for, for my dead baby as well as for my living child...

and that is enough for me.

Большой снег! Bolshai Sneg! Big Snow!

2011-01-23T17:11:00.000+10:00

We arrived in Yuzhno very late on the evening of January 13th, 2011. It was a tad bit chillier than the temperatures in Virginia. I was able to do a bit of shopping on Friday morning up at the store in Olympia (our neighborhood), but saved the majority of it for Saturday, when Matt and I were planning to head to town.

Then a few things changed.

I was hanging out at Amanda's house that afternoon when all of a sudden she gets a call informing her that the kids are stuck at the school because the main road is closed due to snow.

Um, what?

Sure, it had been snowing that day, but only about half a foot or so...maybe more if you take into account the fierce wind we'd had all day. Still, not enough for the roads to be closed up here in the cold, cold, north.

We raced around calling everyone who has kids in school, informing all of the Moms that their kids would have to go to town and stay with the Dads at work (there was just a bit of laughing at that plan) and then I quickly came home to tell Galina (our nanny) that she would not be able to get home as the roads were closed and the buses were not running.

Now, I don't speak much Russian, and the little that I learned I did not yet recall as I had only been home one day. Galina knows a very good amount of English and yet it seemed that the more that I explained things to her the more she looked at me like I was crazy.

Finally she told me "Paige, this little snow. Not big snow. Maybe school. Maybe bus work." Basically, she thought I had lost it because hello, this was not enough snow to close the roads. She thought that the school had made some silly decision to not run the buses or something and she promptly put on all of her winter gear and headed up to the security gate, telling me that someone would take her home.

Uh huh.

She was correct, of course. Apparently there had been an accident of somewhat sizable proportions (as far as how many vehicles were involved, not how damaged they were) and therefore the officials who hold the power closed the road. This is a normal reaction, when warranted. They clear the vehicles, then the road, and then all is opened up again.

It just would have been nice to know the accident part of the equation when I was talking to Galina; then perhaps she would not have thought I was looney.

It continued to snow all weekend. We had about 72 hours of snow total, I believe, and it was fabulous. The flakes were huge and made for some fabulous snow-filled hours. The whole place is beautiful because of the snow and it makes for some fun new activities (for us, anyway).

Mama, bolshai sneg!! Mama, big snow!!

"Do you want to get out?" "No thanks."

Once you get a bit of melting going on, things can get a little hairy. The men who spend all summer making things look nice and spreading dirt, mowing lawns, etc. spend the entire winter moving snow. When the snow on the roof starts to hang over precariously, they get up on the roof and remove it.

They come in through the house, go out through the window, tie themselves off for safety, and proceed to scoop and toss until the roof is cleared...you know, so that it does not fall off and bop you on the head at some inopportune moment.

The snow is still around this weekend (as it never really melts that much all winter) and yesterday we went into town to purchase some sleds. Matt and Miss Thing hiked up the hill just beside our house and took a run down. Matt had to go one time all by himself so that Miss Thing could see just what was going to happen with the sled and the snow.

Then they took a trip down together, slipping sideways and getting a bit of snow in their snowsuits. Miss Thing enjoyed herself, but then informed us that she did not need to have another turn. In literally those exact words: "I just have a turn, Mama; I don't need to have another one."

Later that afternoon the first winter street hockey game of the season began. The men-children get together and play in the street. No worries, folks, safety glasses are worn, so eyes are safe.

Not that they do much to protect the remainder of their bodies. To say that a little checking goes on would be an understatement. In the bottom left of the above photo, you can see our head-boss-man, Mr. Jim, giggling. This would be because he is the chief mischief-maker. It IS all in fun, and everyone seemed to have a lot of it.

Of course, Matt can hardly move today, but hey: no pain, no gain...right?

We are all having some fun getting used to to snow. Miss Thing, since she has never before experienced it, is having the most adjusting to do. Here is an example of her not quite being able to get up. The shoes, they just don't always grip like you'd like them to.

Soon she will be able to traverse the snow with ease, but for now it is really a tough job.

Especially if you want to be king of the hill.

The best purchase of the day? A sled, approximately $100.00 US (things DO cost a tad bit more over here), that allows us to cart Miss Thing around with ease. Oh, yes. This is a stroller-replacement vehicle. She sits, we pull, and we can go anywhere. At least for now. Since she weighs 30 pounds, it is a nice workout for the legs as well.

Of course, pulling her up to the Community Center on this has its perks, mainly in the form of getting to ride it back down to the house. One adult can fit on here with her, and we've taken quite a few rides. During out first, we were both giggling like crazy and at one point she shouted "Wheeeeee doggies!!!!!"

Can't wait for the two of us to visit Miss Amanda...should be fun getting there!

I Must Emote...And Tell All About It

2011-01-21T23:42:00.001+10:00

Here is something I posted on Facebook yesterday afternoon, Sakhalin time:

So, it really sucks when you're one big failure and your contribution to the world is death. I'm pretty sure no one thought that would be my accomplishment when they voted me "most likely to succeed" in high school, and yet here we are.

Here are a few things I have to say about it:

1. The feelings associated with grief are all over the place. There are these so-called "stages of grief", but even when introduced and explained by the experts all are very sure to tell you that you can experience any of the stages at any time; there is no order nor do they always make sense. The only way I can think of to explain it (right at this moment) is to compare the emotions with the stars in a galaxy. There are millions of them, when you take into account all of the nuances, and they are scattered in a hap-hazard yet logical (because they are all necessary) way. At any moment you could be on any star. And at any moment you could be whisked away to another. Sometimes you are only on one long enough to identify it; sometimes you do not even have enough time for that. You are zapped from one to the next never knowing where you'll end up. Sometimes one looks familiar but isn't. Sometimes you visit one on one end of the galaxy only to be beamed over to one in the middle and then you're suddenly right back where you started at the beginning. You never get any warning as to what you will feel, nor do you have any control over it. Since, obviously, if you could control that, you would.

2. I posted what I felt at the exact time that I was feeling it. It was a snippet. A brief moment in my day, an even smaller moment in the week and I could go on. It is not something that consumes me. I am not on the crazy train, or you'd all be well aware. I wrote my feelings at a particular time. It is the limitations of that method of communication that allow everyone to judge and assume and so forth. It is the judgements and assumptions that make me think perhaps I should not post what I feel as it can so easily be misinterpreted.

3. To not declare my feelings would be worse. Oh, sure, I could spend all day every day acting like and pretending like all is well with me. I could put on a happy face and only write uplifting messages that ignore what has happened and is happening in my life. This would be completely unhealthy and I would be lying. I don't think people talk about what has happened to me enough. It is much more common than you think and it happens to anyone and everyone. Additionally, I think it takes a lot of courage to admit it when you aren't feeling great. I think it takes even more to admit that you feel something as silly as like you are a failure. Those feeling are real and true and if I cannot admit them, then I cannot deal with them.

4. What I feel is normal. It does not make me depressed or crazy or selfish or anything else. I am allowed to have my feelings and to express them. If I did not feel these things or if I could not own them, then, and only then, would there be cause for worry.

5. My feelings of failure have just as much to do with my living child as my dead one (amongst other things that have nothing at all to do with children). Not my emotions nor my life are consumed by my dead baby. I get up every day, I have happy moments, I laugh, I live my life. I am not giving up on anything or removing myself from the world (quite the opposite, since I posted that for all to see). To decide otherwise about me based on one moment in my day is, well, not a good thing to do. Again with the faults of facebook communications (which are mostly mine as I did the posting); you just do not get the whole picture. I doubt very seriously that I could give you the whole picture...

6. I would also venture to say that most people have felt like a failure at some point or another in their life. Go ahead, those of you who have never felt like that, raise your hands. Be honest, now. *searching the interwebs* Um, I'm having a difficult time seeing those hands, people.

7. Judging me for having feelings is not helpful. Being angry with me for having honest emotions and for being brave enough to tell the world is not helpful. It is not supportive and it is not okay. I have to talk about how I feel. I have to write about how I feel, even if my thoughts and feelings are wrong in your eyes. I cannot censor myself because someone doesn't like what I am saying. If I do not talk and write about things, then there will be a major problem.

8. Was my posting on facebook harsh and over-the-top and in itself a little unfair? Yes it was. Is what I am experiencing in general all of those things as well? Absolutely. My comments and my writing and my feelings are matched to my experience, and that is the only way I know how to play it.

9. Grief, and therefore the emotions associated with it, is not something to get over, move past, be done with, etc. It is something you have to own. It must become a part of you; otherwise it will conquer you. I have to own my feelings, and this includes telling them to the internet...because many times that is more comfortable for me than just talking one-on-one. All I need is support. I just need people to listen and to empathize and to tell me it is okay to feel all that I feel. If I get stuck feeling something, then THAT is a time to worry. Otherwise, I think I am doing pretty good dealing with all of this, if I do say so myself.

Perhaps I Should Clarify.

2011-01-21T17:04:00.001+10:00

I do not think that I caused this to happen. I do not think that it is my fault. I did nothing to make this happen. I did not want, wish for, believe I would have or pray for a dead baby.

Obviously.

And/or: Duh.

It IS what happened, though. I DID have a dead baby. My body, with some help from Matt's, made a baby, grew it, carried it for 36+ weeks, and in the end what it produced was a dead baby. That was the end product. So my body failed; it absolutely did. Operation: Have A Baby was a compete and utter failure.

Unless of course someone thinks that having a dead one was the implication in that mission statement.

Let me assure you that it was not.

So I get to feel like by body is a failure. Whenever I want to. A whole, entire, two legs, two arms, torso and head all attached dead baby came out of my body. I carried her, dead, inside of me for a whole week. Then I went through labor for eight hours and I delivered a whole, entire dead baby.

A beautiful, pink, muscles tensed, ball of live screaming baby was supposed to come out. One that cries and sighs and sleeps and eats and poops. One that makes me happy and want to tear my hair out, one that grows and smiles and does all of those things that makes everyone love and want to hold babies.

Instead a whole baby body came out of me. A completely silent baby. One that was all floppy and neither felt nor looked nor smelled anything like a baby. Instead of life there was skin falling off, blisters where she had taken on water, a very bulbous and deformed head and blood seeping out of her nose. Her ears were bent over, never to be straight, and she was completely the wrong color and smell.

Epic failure.

Indeed.

In addition, I have not done much in this world. Yes, I am a mother. Of one little girl and one dead baby. I do not define myself entirely by that job that I do. I do it and that is that. To be clear, I do not mean anything negative to anyone who's great satisfaction in life is that of being a mother. Everyone is entitled to their own "this is what fulfills me" thing. Being a mother is not who I am. It is something that I do.

And let's see how that's been going:

My child cries every day. Usually there is some screaming involved. And some throwing herself bodily somewhere. Occasionally, or more often than that, this occurs in public. Regardless, my child cries every day. Every day. There is something wrong with that and since I am the primary caretaker, since I am the mother, that failure falls to me.

Just in case you're thinking that way, no, she does not cry because she has a dead sister.

However, she does occasionally say things like: I just want to hold my baby sister. I just want a baby. I just want to be God (because we had to give her little sister to Him so that He can take care of her).

Also, now that she witnessed my sadness at the graveside, etc., she constantly asks things like: Are you happy? Are you mad?

Yes, mad. Why? Because if I tell her I am not mad, then she proceeds to do something, anything, that she thinks will make me so. Isn't that awesome? That is the kind of person I am apparently raising. One that looks for ways to upset people.

Again: FAIL.

Please do not misunderstand me. I know (do I ever and more than most) that I am incredibly lucky to have my one living child. I am just also acutely aware that right now I am totally failing her. I am not sure how I am, but it is abundantly clear that I am. Which is why it is a failure: I don't know what I am doing wrong so it isn't like I'll be able to fix it or change it.

And no, I am not talking about grief because overall I am doing okay there. People think that if I have even one negative thought that it must be because of my grief from having a dead baby. Um, nope. If you knew me before then you know that I am not all sunshine and rainbows. Nor am I all storm clouds and tornados. I'm just normal. And I feel all of the things that normal people do. If something I feel is not on the happy side it is not always going to be"because of grief". Sometimes, but not always.

I get to have not-so-happy thoughts. I get to have more than some people and less than others. I get to have them. I do not have to show this facade of happiness all the time just because people will assume that if I am unhappy is it solely because I had a dead baby. Sure, that makes me sad every day. But it is not the only driving force in my emotions nor is it my only emotion.

I guess I am just trying to say that I am normal to feel these things. Not strange or depressed or in need to psychiatric help - I'm a normal person feeling completely normal things in regard to my life as I live it.

Again, please do not assume or misunderstand me. I like my life. I enjoy living in the cold, cold north. I like living all over the world. I am very lucky to get to do so. But let's get real. It is not I who makes these opportunities available to me. It is my husband. So while I like and enjoy my life in the world very much, I am also very aware that nothing that I have done has made this happen. I am living this life by default, by hanging on his coat-tails. It is like cherry-picking in basketball. Not a grand appreciated thing.

So that is how I am feeling right now. I think these thoughts and feelings are normal for me. In my life. Doing and experiencing what I do and experience every day.

People Just Don't Think #1

2010-12-17T14:36:00.000+10:00

I was having an okay day today. Then one of my parents' friends called up. This is a woman I know, but not someone with whom I communicate frequently or anything of that nature. It has been a very long time since I have spoken to her, much less seen her. Here is our phone call, repeated as closely to the exact words as I can recall:

Me: Hello?

So and So: Hello, is this [my Mom's name]?

Me: No, this is Paige.

S&S: Hi, Paige, this is So-and-so.

Me: Hi.

S&S: What are you all up to?

Me: Not much; getting ready for nap time.

S&S: Oh. I was just calling to find out what happened.

Me: What happened? [me, totally confused...wondering if there was some thing my parents were supposed to have done/had planned/told her about...]

S&S: Yes, what happened.

Me: What happened with what?

S&S: What happened with the baby.

[Um, What?!?]

Me: She's dead, that's what happened.

S&S: Well I know that. [with a rather large implied "duh" in her tone]

Me: Okay.

S&S: I just spoke with Dave McKee.

Me: Okay. [which explains nothing to me except that I know he knows that I brought death into this world - what a fabulous contributor I am]

S&S: I didn't even know you were pregnant. [said accusatorily]

Me: Okay.

S&S: Blah blah blah. [I don't know because my Mom was asking me who it was at that point and I was telling her I did not want to be talking any further. DUH TOTALLY IMPLIED THERE.]

And the rest of the conversation was a bunch of nothing. For real, not in the sense that I don't remember it, but in the sense that really nothing else was said. Let me give all of you a little piece of advice: if someone you know delivers a dead baby, calling up out of the blue a month or two later and having the above conversation as if something is owed to you is not a good idea. I repeat: NOT A GOOD IDEA. You are only attempting to serve YOUR needs in that situation and you are NOT thinking about the effect it might have on the one person affected most horribly by the events.

Events. As if we planned such a thing. You plan events, not dead babies, but I don't know what else to call it.

My main response afterwards: a very angry "Really?!?!?!!!??"

It took a LONG time for me to stop being extremely angry. A long, long time. I yelled at my one living daughter, who granted, was not listening to me, but still didn't deserve it so yay for feeling guilty all day as well, thanks for that. I wanted to run or yell or throw something but none of those options were available to me (stupid snow) so instead I read a book to escape which only means that here I am, late at night, still angry, though not as much, and still needing to run or yell or throw things.

Awesome.

This right here would be my only outlet, really, so apologies for the venting.

But I am TOTALLY ALLOWED.

People just do not think.

[that would be period]

What would I just LOVE to say in response to the many "What happened?!?" questions that I receive? Let's see...

She's dead, that's what happened. On October 28, 2010, a dead, rotting carcass came out of my body. That's right. It had been decaying in there for a whole week, so it was a really pretty sight for all of us. Does my body do things up right, or what?!?! I mean, could I have had better timing? A dead, rotting carcass is a pretty fabulous way to celebrate Halloween, don't you think? I win creepiest costume award for sure.

What is it that people think they're going to hear when they ask me that? I mean really.

NOTHING HAPPENED. SHE IS DEAD. THAT IS WHAT HAPPENED.

There is no why, people. There is no explanation. No one decided that this was "supposed to" happen to me (which has been implied). No one "gave" this to me (written to me). This wasn't "for a reason" (said to me). This was not "Part of God's plan for your life." (also written to me). I have so many arguments to support WHY none of those things are true, but no one wants to listen to them and they are too long for this post. Let me just explain it in two words: faith, love.

I have a list of blog post ideas that go under the title: People Just Don't Think. This phone call was a perfect example. I don't owe anyone an explanation. If anyone IS owed an explanation, it is I and yet I seem to be the only one aware of and okay with the fact that there is none. But people want one. So who do they decide to call up and give the third degree...about my DEAD baby?...ME!

REALLY??!?!?!?!

THINK before you speak/act, people, if at all possible. I'm not saying it will stop you; I am definitely one to say/do what I think is best or needed, and I fail at thinking before I speak/act sometimes too. But in THIS situation and ones like it, please THINK first. The main questions to ask yourself are:

1. Who am I really asking these questions/doing these things for?
- if the answer is you, because you are upset or you need information, then don't ask/do.

2. Will I hurt anyone?
- because if you don't know that the answer is a for sure NO, then DON'T DO IT.

She called because she is upset. Yes, I know that she is upset for my Mom and for me, but also for herself...and for the situation in general. While I completely empathize with that (hello, I am the one who's body created death, thanks), I do not need to be on the receiving end of that. Not one bit. She also called for herself more than for us. She called because she was upset and because she needed information, an explanation - and that is the WRONG thing to call for.

I think this all might have been avoided if she had not called me immediately. She called after having very recently found out and while still shocked and upset. Or at least that is what it seemed when I spoke to her. And again, I get that. Believe me, I do. But she called for her and didn't even stop to think what it might do to me to have to suddenly, out of nowhere, describe to someone that isn't close to me (which is probably why she didn't know I was pregnant in the first place) what "happened".

Yes, part of grief is anger.

Um, I am totally aware that I am angry sometimes, thanks.

I have every reason to be, thanks again.

It does not mean that I don't see her position or her side, but it angers me that she didn't think of me, my position or my side beforehand. I am tired of people doing that and they do it often.

In the same token, this would be the straw that broke MY back. It sounds like I am only angry with her, but I am not. And when I say I see her point of view, I mean that I do. But I HAVE to have a way to release the anger and this is it. She is not the first nor will she be the last to anger me by doing this. My doctor (if you can believe THAT) was the FIRST person to do it. I can't wait to tell you all that story:

Welcome to anger, come on in and make yourself at home!

Hardly

2010-11-17T06:07:00.000+10:00

Dear Addison,

Today would have been your birthday. Your Daddy had a flight booked to arrive at midnight on Friday the 12th. He would have spent that next day with your Grammie and Pop-Pop and then he would have traveled down here to see me and your "Biiiiiiiiig sister!"

We toyed with the idea of inducing on Monday, but I think we would have opted for today because that way your "Biiiiiiiiig sister!" would have been in school, something consistent, during part of the labor.

Instead I delivered you on October 28th. I don't think of it as a birthday. You didn't get a birthday. They don't call it death either, because in order for there to be a date for that you have to have been born, alive, first.

You actually died sometime during the night of Thursday, October 21st and Friday, October 22nd. It was probably in the wee hours of the morning on the 22nd. I know this because I felt it happen. I won't go into it now because I'm not ready to share that with everyone. I am not saying that I felt it like a "gut feeling" type of thing, though. I mean that I actually felt you fight for your life and lose.

Inside of me.

Then I carried you, dead, for a week.

Inside of me.

In one day, you were here...only not really.

I delivered you, but you were not born.

You died, but you did not live.

I get the best and the worst of this situation. I am the only one who knew you in life. I felt you move and kick and poke and flip. I knew you, in a tiny way, before anyone else.

And yet I didn't know you. I'll never know you.

I also knew first that you were gone. You stopped moving, you fought and lost and I had to carry you that way while we waited for a "good" time to deliver you.

There really isn't a good time for that, you know.

Today would have been your birthday. We would have gone to the hospital anxious to meet you. We would have been tired but so happy when you arrived. We would have heard you cry and I would have fed you and we would have held you and smelled your new baby smells.

None of that will ever be.

Today I went to the funeral home because your certificate was ready. The one that says that you cease to exist. It doesn't say that you were born and it doesn't say that you died. It just says that you are gone.

And that you belong to me.

I am your mother;
I carried you in life and death;
I brought you into the world;
I gave you the best farewell I could manage.

Your absence belongs to me.

I have to own that. I have to make that part of me. Instead of giving birth to you and taking you home I have a piece of paper. It is hardly sufficient. I don't even really want it. And yet I desperately want it because it is one of only a very few things of yours that I will ever have. We will never make memories with you. We will not be a family together. I will never care for you or teach you.

You'll never have a birthday.

Just a piece of paper.

It is hardly sufficient.

Memorial for Addison Leigh

2010-11-12T06:50:00.001+10:00

Hello there. I have some information regarding a memorial for Addison. We've had people tell us they are interested in participating. I cannot remember exactly who told me they are interested, so I have decided to post about it here and link to it via facebook. Hopefully between this and email we can let everyone know. Please do not feel like you have to participate; many of you have already helped us greatly and we very much appreciate all that you have done.

We met with a professor at Virginia Western Community College, located here in Roanoke, Virginia. There is a community arboretum on the grounds and within that arboretum is a children's garden. We plan to put an educational memorial in that garden. At this time we are thinking of a kinetic wind sculpture (video at bottom of page) as well as a child-sized bench to match the adult ones already present in the area. I also like the idea of wind chimes being placed somewhere in the garden and if we have the resources I think that we will do that as well.

I cannot guarantee that this is the final verdict on what will be done; I do know that we really like the idea in general and these items in particular. When a final decision has been made we will be sure to tell everyone the outcome.

If you would like to take part in the memorial, checks made out to The Community Arboretum and designated Addison Leigh Memorial can be sent to this address:

The Community Arboretum

P.O.Box 14007

Roanoke, VA 24038-4007

Any donations made can be claimed for tax purposes under the same category as a donation made to a college or university.

I know that not everyone keeps up with us here on the blog and that there are plenty who do not have a facebook account. If you know that I have missed someone, please feel free to forward this information along. I don't want anyone to think that we forgot them.

Again, thank you to everyone for your prayers and support; we are stronger and capable of getting through this because of our wonderful friends and family. Please contact me if you have any questions.

Name That Movie

2010-10-31T11:56:00.000+10:00

Now I look like I've gone and had a really bad boob job. I'd say about three sizes too big. I mean, people, I don't even have to bend over to have some spectacular cleavage. If you know me, then you know this is far from normal.

While the added...oomph...might normally be appreciated, there is no relief in sight. Right now they are taking the physical form of rocks. And by that I mean hard as.

Painful does not even begin to describe the situation.

It definitely gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "Over-the-shoulder boulder-holder."

Surely you know what movie that one is from?

Complete One-Eighty

2010-10-26T11:46:00.000+11:00

Last Tuesday I went to my doctor's office for a check-up and ultrasound. I had gained four pounds in the last two weeks (ack!), but everything else was great. I got to see the little one all crammed in there. The heart was beating at about 145 and the weight was about 5 and a half pounds. Also, we finally found out that we were going to have another little girl.

Then the doctor asked if I'd like her to check me and I said go ahead. I was already dilated to a 2 and 50% effaced....at which point she told me I probably wouldn't make it past 36 or 37 weeks.

Um, hello? I was 35 weeks and 4 days at that appointment.

Jeepers Creepers.

So, I came home, called Rocket Man over in Russia and shared the news. Then we told Miss Thing that she would have a baby sister. Oh, was that good, because she told us "Just like me!"

On Wednesday I took her with me to shop for some clothing. We looked all over the store and purchased a bunch of items. Some were for now and some for months down the line since we'd need to take about a year worth of clothing back with us.

Miss Thing kept going back to a pair of newborn pajamas with snowmen on them. She would take them off of the hanger and bring them to me and put them on her "baby sister". They were "Juuuuust right!"

Thursday or Friday sometime Rocket Man and I talked on the webcam and I was able to show him everything that I had purchased. I had two sets of matching pajamas, one for winter/Christmastime and one with a polar bear, which is appropriate for Russia...whether they live there or not. I told him that in the next few days we would need to get the portable crib out here and pack bags and do all of those things since Saturday I would be 36 weeks and the doctor thought I might not last much past then.

Friday evening I noticed that she wasn't moving around as much, but her back was most definitely facing out and when this happened earlier in the pregnancy it just meant that all of the movement was much more difficult to sense. Saturday morning was the same, so I broke all of the rules of Gestational Diabetes dieting and drank part of a real soda (egads!) to see if that would make her move a bit more.

We headed up to the pumpkin patch with Miss Thing that morning (post and photos to come) and I was walking around the whole time. I still wasn't really feeling much, so when we returned I headed to the doctor.

I got to the hospital and they took me to a room and tried to find a heartbeat. The nurse said she was getting blips here and there but she wanted a doctor to check because she wasn't sure that it wasn't me that she was picking up. He came in and hooked up an ultrasound machine and there she was on there. Looking absolutely perfect with all of her body parts...

...except that one wasn't moving.

There I was, 36 weeks, with a completely formed baby who looked great and who could absolutely survive outside of the womb at that stage...

...except she couldn't.

It had been four days since I had seen her little heart working and pumping. Less since I had felt her moving, since I had poked on my belly and she had poked right back.

Everything changed.

All of our plans to accommodate bringing this little piece of us into our lives were suddenly void.

Instead I was calling Rocket Man and waking him in the wee hours of the morning to tell him that I was at the hospital and not for the reason we all thought I would be. Instead of telling him exciting and happy news I had to devastate him.

*********

We are doing well, all things considered. There is no explanation; there are no answers. I am okay with that. This thing, this event that is now taking place is not one anyone wants to experience, but it happens. It just...happens.

Right now I am scheduling the necessary occasions: labor, delivery, meeting our little girl, burial. Aside from meeting her, I am really not looking forward to much of it...and even that will be a mixed bag of emotions.

We are planning to induce on Thursday morning. We will have a viewing on Saturday morning and will go straight from there to the graveside for a short service.

*********

I am sure that I will write about this more; it will help me. I don't know what I will say and I imagine it will run the gamut. I'll try to remember to put a disclaimer or something up so that if anyone doesn't want to read it they don't have to.

In my opinion, this is very much about whatever someone needs, which is how I feel about all of this. If someone feels like they need to cry, so be it. If they need to scream, that is fine. If they just need to be there or if they need to not be there - whatever is needed and everyone is different. None of it will bother or upset us at all because in a situation like this, what else can you do besides react however you need to?

We've all gone from anticipating a very happy event to now anticipating something that is unthinkable. It is definitely a complete reversal and extremely surreal.

I'll write again when I can. Or maybe just when I need to.

Hello from Tokyo!

2010-09-21T11:52:00.000+11:00

This is a game called "Dee Dah, Dee Dah, DAH!" that Miss Thing has been playing with her Daddy and her Tokyo Souvenir, which she named Patches.

Enjoy and I'll hopefully post soon from the states!

These Are a Few...

2010-09-06T22:43:00.000+11:00

...of My New Favorite Things.

We've been in Sapporo, Japan (Hokkaido) this past week/weekend for a 2.5-day mini-vacation. I have photos and more regarding the time we spent there. For now I would like to show you some of the fabulous (to us, anyway) things we were able to purchase on our trip.

Let's begin with Day One's purchases, all made in Otaru, a coastal town northwest-ish of Sapporo. They are very well known for their glass work and a little less well known for their music boxes. Of course we had to check them both out.

Here is my new music box (jewelry box):

They had boxes of all shapes, sizes, colors, and intricacies. Anyone could find something they like. There were tiny little boxes, some that only played music, some that looked bedazzled, gold, silver, and every color under the sun. They also had lacquer-ware ones like mine of all shapes and sizes.

The inside of all of them is quite nice, usually featuring a mirror and the red velvet-like material. It was very difficult to choose one as there were literally hundreds (thousands?) of boxes in one shop and everywhere you looked you would see something that caught your eye. I chose this type because I kept coming back to them. I figured that was a good a sign as any that I liked it more than the others.

The inlaid floral patterns (and pagoda scenes, etc.) are really beautiful. There were many with the cherry-blossoms as one might expect. I chose this one because the flowers are small and there are even a few petals being blown away on the front edge of the box (you can see them in the second photo).

Once the music box purchasing had been finished, we meandered back towards the center of town and checked out a few glass shops along the way. Otaru is known for the glass artisans; they once made the gas lamps in town and glass buoys for the fishing boats. Since neither of those items are much in use any more (well, buoys are, but they are made of different material these days methinks), the artists took to creating all sorts of glassware.

As with the music boxes, anyone could find something they like in the way of glassware in Otaru. The color range encompassed all hues and the styles ranged from very simple to more modern and then the more typical Japanese (at least to us) looking items.

We purchased a drinking set that includes the pitcher and five of these little cups. The photos do not do the colors justice. The pitcher is made so that your pour the liquid into the top for serving and to keep it cold, you place ice in the side pocket which is sectioned off completely from the interior. It would not be Japanese if not functional.

On Day Two, we managed to take a taxi out to a tiny hole-in-the-wall (under the house/in the carpark) kimono shop. Here they work on kimonos and all of their accessories. There were obi, kimono, shoes, bags, pins, and even stripped down kimono fabrics for sale.

We were looking for an Obi, and this is the first that caught my eye. It is difficult to choose which one you like because once again, they come in every color imaginable. Your house from the 60s or 70s that you've never upgraded and therefore has the original color palette? You could absolutely find multiple options for an obi to match your decor.

The second obi we chose is covered with fans and scenes from the countryside. I really like that it has some larger light-colored sections to really stand out. It is a different color-scheme, but has some of the same tones as the first and we hope they can be in the same house if nothing else without clashing terribly. Surely this is possible.

I think we'll find places for them both regardless. Now to find out where everyone purchased the nifty obi-hangers I've seen here in their homes...

I am very happy with these new items. When living in Spain, I usually took tons of photos as our reminder of our travels. It wasn't until just before we left that we finally made some decisions about what we'd like to take home. Now that there are kids involved, I only manage to take a few photos of any quality, so having other items is very nice. Plus, we'll have these things forever...if we can prevent the aforementioned children from ruining them all.

Only time will tell!

Crazy-Pants

2010-09-02T00:00:00.001+11:00

There is a phenomenon known as Crazy-Pants. CP, as she is known, does all sorts of random things that are most certainly loca. For example, she likes to place a trash can on her head and walk around the house singing. Usually the song is Row, Row, Row Your Boat with all of the words except merrily replaced by someone's name. A favorite is Daddy; merrily comes out as mer.

If while walking around CP happens to bump into something, she'll lift her helmet and peek out at whomever or whatever it is, talk to him/her/it a bit and then replace the helmet and continue as before.

Alternatively, CP will bump into a person, check to see if it is indeed a human, and then commence playing a form of Peek-a-Boo...whether the person participates or not does not seem to matter.

Above is CP wearing her one and only Japanese outfit. It was on for about three minutes, top. Apparently all of the tying and strange fabric did not suit her. While in it, she was a cheese-monster. Feet shoulder width apart, face scrunched, and "Cheeeeeeeeeeeeese!"

Another CP production involves singing with hand motions. As you can see here, she is showing everyone the wide part of Deep and Wide. It is quite the performance, as noted by her Daddy in the background.

Cooking is a new thing. Mama cooks all of the time now and CP watches from the kitchen table with commentary. "Mama's cooooooking. Mama's cutting. It's not ready yet. It's not cooked. It makes you sick." This has led to some pretend cooking in the playroom here at Casa CP. We don the chef hat and jacket, oven mit and wooden spoon and go to town. It is "just pretend" though, in case you were wondering.

CP does not just pretend to wear her hat and sunglasses. The hat is hit or miss, but the glasses are a favorite. They are worn when going to the restaurant, the community store, the playground, to see Buster Doggie and Bailey Doggie, in the car and would be in the house if allowed.

There are some other crazy things that occur here, the likes of which I cannot explain. One I can describe for you however. CP places her left hand up to her face with her pointer finger across her lips and the rest of her hand in a fist. She then says: "Hmmmm....I know! I've got an idea!" I reply: "You do? What is it?" And she will respond with one of the following:

"I know! Mama do it!"

or the ever popular

"I don't know!"

Birthday Party!

2010-09-01T00:00:00.000+11:00

At the very end of July, we attended a birthday party here at Olympia. The birthday girl, who turned three, is pictured above with one of the fabulous party favors received by all of the guests under four feet tall.

Miss Thing was a complete mess that entire day due to the non-sleep chronicles going on at our house. We were a bit late to the party because we let her sleep longer than usual for her nap. When we arrived, everyone was busy finishing their meal. The kids' table was full of Hello Kitty dinner-ware.

Luckily for her, hot dogs were on the menu. She may have been a tad hungry since she scarfed down two of them right away. Also, note the hat. They don't usually stay on her head for that long, so the hunger most definitely overcame the uncomfortable-ness.

It was a really lovely afternoon; we didn't have many of them in July, so it was nice for the adults to be able to sit and talk outside while the kids played everywhere.

This photo is funny on so many levels. The kids are playing Pin the bow on the Kitty and it was interesting. Take note of the concentration on the Mom assisting the little boy. In the background the birthday girl is obviously unsure about the blind-folding process. If only you could see the line of children behind them all waiting for their turn. It was excellent.

Later the kids got to hit the pinata. Most were gentle with it, but there were definitely a few who knew what they were doing. Regardless we had to enlist a parent to finally break the thing open. Miss Thing had no idea what we were doing, but she "hit" the pinanta about as forcefully as a fly and then when it finally broke open I think she collected about five pieces of candy.

The kids went into the house to watch a movie while the adults hung out in the yard. After a while I went inside to check on them and was met with the view above. I love how they all have balloons and they're all gaping at the television. I think there's a reason they call it the boob-tube...because watching it turns you into one after awhile.

This is quite possibly my favorite photo of the day. Miss Thing finally ate her first piece of hard candy. It was "Mmmm, yummy." Not so yummy was the way she kept taking it out of her mouth to look at it.

Sticky.

City Mall Fun

2010-08-31T00:00:00.003+11:00

One unique aspect of our current living situation (coupled with the newly potty-trained child) is that we are at least twenty minutes from, well, anything, thirty or more from town, and have I mentioned yet that we have to take our car seats in and out of the vehicles? What this means is that there isn't much exploring going on and therefore I don't know very many places to take Miss Thing for out-of-the-community fun.

We have ventured to City Mall, a relatively new completion only twenty minutes away. There are shops of all kinds from everywhere and two whole floors with play areas and arcade games.

We've gone to the play area twice now, the second time being our first no diapers outing. Yay for no accidents. Also, thanks to Miss Amanda and Adam for putting up with the bathroom trips. Here are some photos of our time there:

The main attraction is a blow-up bouncy house/slide combo complete with sea animals for riding and squishing.

Here she is with her friend K, whom we have missed while she's been in Australia.

Miss Thing desperately wanted to slide like her friends, but refused to go up the ladder until all other children left the area. Thankfully this did occur, and up she went. It was tough going, but once she figured it out, she was following Adam up there over and over again!

Of course, she does not go down on her tuckus; nope, we choose the tummy. It makes her happy, so it is fine with me!

On our second visit, she finally braved the trampoline area. There are four small trampolines on a raised surface. The nice thing is that they only let one child play on them at a time, so each has their own area and there is no bonking of heads.

We may have found out those were the rules after breaking them, but hey, now we know.

By the way, jumping is serious business.

Serious.

At the end of visit one, we all went to the City Market (small grocery store; big for here) to pick up a few items before we headed home. Miss Thing and I were done first, so we headed out to the lobby...

...where who did we meet, but Mortimer..erm..Mickey Mouse!

Is it really him!?! Why, yes it is!

(This is as close as she would get, but hey - she sat with him and let him touch her, so that is great.)

We took one final shot of the girls with Mickey before leaving.

At which point my child began crying.

Um, yeah.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Indeed.

Say.....

2010-08-30T22:41:00.000+11:00

Cheese!

Take One

Take Two

Take Three

Ta-Da!

POW

2010-08-27T07:48:00.004+11:00

- I've been up since 6 am. I know. This does not seem like any sort of so-called un-Godly hour, but 'tis. Might not be so bad if my body would allow me to fall asleep any time before 2 am. Alas, this is my plight. Every night I 'go to bed' between 9 and 10:30 and then I do not sleep. For those of you who believe that this is the baby preparing me...let's just say that I am well aware of the coming torture that is a child who never sleeps (see: my first child) and so I could really do without the 'preparation'.

- I do not normally get up at 6. If I can help it, anyway. If I do it is usually because of, you guessed it, child number one. She is still asleep. Go figure. I had Rocket Man wake me, in the middle of some (finally) much needed shut-eye so that I could make doctor appointments with a couple of fine physicians in the states. One of the finer points of living half-way around the world.

- Also, yay for sentence fragments in lieu of the real thing.

- Yesterday: home-made (bread-maker) bread; home-made (and hand-made), from scratch (just in case you didn't get that part) biscuits. Declared yummy by all who ate them which is a good thing for my first time making them. Also, sliced, tenderized (Mama, you're hitting! Mama use a hammer. Mmmm, I LIKE beef, Mama.) divided and frozen beef for stir-fry. The same, minus the tenderizing, was done with veggies for same.

- Lately: 5 loaves of bread-maker bread, most frozen; chicken breasts cleaned, divided into single portions (12) and frozen; more than 100 meat-balls made, divided and frozen; two batches of beans soaked, slow-cooked and then (you guessed it) divided and frozen.

- I'm not done. I've got 1 or 2 more batches of beans to cook, 8 more servings of stir-fry meat and veggies to conquer, and then I'm going to attempt some pizzas. As in home-made crust/pizza, not the frozen ones from the store.

- We are not pizza snobs here at casa crazy-pants; please do not misunderstand. In fact, I went shopping this week and also purchased five boxes of piccolinos (small round pizzas, 9 per box) with prosciutto and cheese on them - they are one of our favorites.

- Surely this will help Rocket Man with the 12 weeks, count 'em, that Miss Thing and I (and baby2) will be back in the states without him (longer than that, really, but he'll make an appearance or two).

- Assuming he doesn't eat it all in the first three weeks.

- Must. Exhibit. Restraint.

- Yay.

- Fragments.

Hooray for.......

2010-08-17T21:24:00.000+11:00

Notice anything different about that picture? Granted, it is mostly hidden. If you take a peek beside her right foot you might notice that there is no thick padded absorbent item where one would normally be. Oh, no my friends, those are UNDERPANTS! of a Minnie variety.

Yup, I'm going to talk about it. If you don't want to know, then please feel free to not read. I will tell you that there are some funnies at the end, but you could even skip to those if you like.

So...here goes.

*****************************************************************

Last Monday I decided to start potty-training. We'd introduced the potty before, mostly because it arrived in our air shipment and she saw it and wanted to know what it was. She would sit on it and go, but it wasn't real so much as it was luck (I had her sit on it after naps and in the morning when she would naturally need to use it).

About a week before our sea shipment arrived I tried for real...at quite possibly the worst time ever. We were having a few sleeping issues, for one. Either she'd get us both up early or I would be unable to fall asleep until the wee hours and therefore I was not in a great mood for something that requires a lot of patience. You know, like training a little one to put the proper things in the pot. Added to this was the fact that Rocket Man was out of town for a week...and basically the worst time ever.

I only tried for a day. It was very clear that she wasn't ready: she could not get her own pants off, for one, which can impede the process. Also, she absolutely knew what was expected and also that she wasn't/couldn't do it and so basically she was just really upset and frustrated all day. It was not a good thing. I put the potty away completely and decided that I'd wait until our sea shipment arrived and we had put it all away. I also wanted Rocket Man to be in town before we tried again.

This brings us to last Monday. I have an Elmo video that talks all about potty-related things. Now, my child was only exposed to the little red squeaker a very tiny bit before we came overseas...and I've only seen him on the television a few times here. Mostly she liked Mr. Noodle.

That Mr. Noodle...he is so SILLY!

The fact that Mr. Noodle is nowhere to be found did not bother her a bit. Oh, no, there is someone even better in this video: Elmo's Daddy.

She LOVES him. I referred to him many times this past week and there may have been a couple of days where we watched Elmo's Potty Time...well, enough that I had the songs stuck in my head when I tried to go to sleep.

Anyway.

Monday morning we watched the video together and I explained/reiterated things taught on it. Then we put on some training underpants and began. After about 3 wet underpants, I decided to just take them off for a bit. The morning was not very successful. That afternoon, after her nap, we had some success. Finally she stopped going on the floor mid-stream, ran to the potty and 'finished' on there. That was all I needed for the reward.

What, you might ask, is the reward?

Well, for my child, it is a 'teddy-bear treat' - A.K.A. Gummy Bear.

People, it is all about the reward. It must be something they want. A lot. Muchissimo. Also, it is different for each kid. I have a friend whose son only found interest in all things potty-related once she told him he could blow bubbles in the house if he got it in the pot.

Moving along...later she had an actual success on the potty with no accident precluding it. As soon as I gave her a treat she said "Let's do it again!", ran to the potty and put the rest of what she had in there.

Methinks she was ready.

Day by day we got better and by Saturday she was going to the potty all on her own, pulling her own pants down, etc. without any prodding from us. Things have only gotten better since and we no longer get treats for liquid. I can even report that today, finally, she went poo in the pot as well.

Obviously this does not mean that there are not any more accidents or that we are done learning. Overall, though, she'll just announce "I need to go potty." or not, and then head off to take care of things. Today she even impressed the nanny, who was clearly surprised that she went all day with no accidents.

Good times.

Now that you've read through all of that...JUST what you wanted to read about today...I shall share a few of the more interesting moments:

*****************************************************************

Day One:

I have shown her what to do, we have had a mini-sit on the pot with no...production...and we've watched the video, etc. She is playing and gets into a little house (you know, the ones that are made of fabric and pop open?) and is playing when suddenly she shouts "I need to go potty!!!" (while already going of course) and stands up and tries to RUN to the potty.

She is moving fast...

...and so is the house.

*****************************************************************

Day Five:

While number one is going quite well, there is no number two success. We're talking on the webcam with Guga and Papa Jim and Miss Thing has again entered the little house. She's talking and playing and then comes out to tell me "Pee-pee in my pants."

Except it isn't exactly a liquid.

I don't know this of course, and tell her to hurry and take her underpants off and then go sit on the potty. She yanks and pulls and finally gets them off and PLOP.

Oh, yes.

Right there on the floor.

Just what her proud grandparents wanted to witness.

*****************************************************************

Today:

We've just finished dinner and are cleaning everything up. Chica announces to the household that she needs to go and does her thing.

About five minutes later I notice that the underpants are still off. I mention this to Rocket Man and he heads over to take care of it and takes a peek into the potty...

...where there is no receptacle for 'catching' the business.

That's right people, I forgot to replace the bucket.

Not that it stopped her, of course.

Thankfully this particular potty does not open up to the floor, so it was easy to clean.

*****************************************************************

Throughout the week of training:

Miss Thing: "Let's go GET that teddy-bear treat!"

****

Rocket Man: "I don't think I've ever seen her butt-cheeks as much as I have this week."

Me: "All that tells me is that you haven't changed nearly enough diapers."

Perhaps we can begin to remedy that with little being number two in a few months.

*****************************************************************

Thanks for reading. Apologies if you really didn't want to know. I hope you could chuckle at a few of the stories at the least! Hopefully tomorrow or the next day I'll have some new photos of Miss Thing and I can tell you some more about some of the other things she's been learning/doing.

Things

2010-08-12T21:55:00.000+11:00

I've used my bread-maker a few times. The bread is way yummy, but if I eat a bunch of it there will be problems for sure. Hopefully I can make a bunch and start freezing it for Rocket Man so that while we are home for forever he'll have some to eat. We'll be gone for about sixteen weeks, though and he eats a loaf a week easy...I doubt I will make that many. Luckily it is very easy to use, so he should be able to make some on his own as well.
Wednesday night I made meatballs. They were fabulous. I am planning to make a bunch of those and freeze them as well because dude, I could eat them whenever.
Tonight I made Fettuccine Alfredo with shrimp for those of us over three feet tall. Everyone loved it, even Miss Thing. I had to tell her we would keep what was left in her bowl and she could eat it tomorrow in order for her to get down from the table. Messy meal indeed.
While making said pasta, I happened to leave the baggie with the parm-regg in it on the counter...where my child got it. I hear "Mmmmm, yummy!" about three times before I turn around to see her taking bites off of the chunk. Awesome.
Soaked beans today for some slow-cooker goodness tomorrow. Let's hope they turn out yummy since I want to freeze some of them as well.
What? We are two and a quarter people; we don't eat that much.
Except for Rocket Man, who always eats dinner and then immediately (as in, before I can clear the table) makes himself either a bowl of cereal or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
For reals.
A baby gate is up to block Miss Thing into her room for the night.
MUAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAAAAAAAAAAH!
I plan on having a backup sound machine ready for those of us who enjoy sleeping at night. You know, just in case there is some screaming later.
Miss Thing has a set of alphabet cards. One animal whose name begins with each letter. Y is for Yak. She is really into singing right now. One of her daily songs is "The Wheels on the Bus", although she is way more interested in the people/animals on that bus than the bus itself. Did you know dogs, cats, cows and elephants ride the bus? Apparently so. Also, she rides the bus. So we sing about Mama, Daddy and her. I've told her that she goes "yakkity, yakkity, yak". Surely you can see where this is going: "W is for wolf."; "X is for X-Ray fish."; Y is for [Name] goes yakkity, yakkity, yak!"
There is no better example of the fact that learning occurs when you can attach something new to something you already know. Thank you, Dr. Sochinski, for continually drilling that one in.
HAMSters, unite!
You will only get that if you were a music major at VT...
Apologies.
Making the implicit explicit.
Again, sorry.
We're getting closer to purchasing a ticket for our flight home. We are weighing price versus ease of travel/travel time. I will be even more huge and I will be taking the screamer with me, so I vote for ease and short travel time. We'll see if I can justify that with the price...
Let's hope so 'cause dude, it is gonna stink no matter what!
My brain is turning off, which must mean that I don't have anything else to say.
Riiiiiight.
Perhaps I'm tired from all of the NOT SLEEPING.
I'm out!

Sleep Battles; Part Eleventy-Billion

2010-08-11T17:06:00.000+11:00

I was able to catch a whole two hours of sleep last night. More, if you count the umpteen 30-second intervals of sleep I garnered in-between the many "Mama" moments once my child awoke at 6. I don't really think that they count, but some people might. Yes, I didn't go to sleep until after 4:00 a.m. This is because I still wasn't asleep until almost 1:00 a.m. at which time my child awoke.

To everyone who likes to say that she is preparing me for number two, I would like to inform you that that is a big fat load of hooey. Number 2 is doing a fine time of keeping me up at night what with the kicking and the peeing and so forth.

This behavior also has nothing to do with things we are doing during the day because it doesn't matter what we do during the day. Some days she gets up, some days she doesn't, and the same daily activities can go with either one.

How long is it now that this has been going on? My brain is rather fuzzy and I am not sure. I think it is a three week plus event. Which means that I haven't slept for three weeks.

This is the same child who didn't sleep for the first year of her life; it would be nice if that were over. Apparently not. If this keeps up and the second one is like her I should be dead within weeks of giving birth. Either that or the second one won't make it because of my no-sleep induced blunders.

What exactly has been going on? Let's see. Getting her to go to bed is hit or miss. Sometimes she goes down fairly well (as in I only have to go back in once) and other times it can take hours. Last night it took an hour. I could deal with this if she was sleeping through the night. Of course she is not. Sometime between 1:00 a.m. and 2:30 a.m. she wakes up, turns the light on in her room, turns the sound machine off and exits her room in order to come and whine in ours. About? Nothing.

Once up she is either up for the day or she wants to sleep in our bed, which is not working because it is synonymous with sleeping stuck to me. I already have to deal with two people, I absolutely do not need a third. Plus, even if she sleeps like that I do not. So again, not working.

Now, if she couldn't get her door open, I would be happy to leave her to her own devices in her room. There's nothing to play with and it is rather boring in there. She could fuss and complain and so forth and eventually she'd just give up and go back to bed. Granted, it might take a few hours and perhaps cause lots of crying, but that's no skin off my back.

Before everyone gets all up in arms about that fact, please be aware that quite frankly I don't care what you think. You are not me; you do not have my child; you do not know her like I do, nor do you deal with her every day. I could go on. Suffice it to say that what works for me might not work for you, but that is why life is so grand: we are all different. And there is nothing wrong with that, a fact that I wish more people could comprehend.

Unfortunately, she can open the door. Why? Because they are not doorknobs, but handles. She just barely has to get her weight behind it and open it comes. Also, there are no locks. Believe you me, if I had that option I'd use it. The only way to keep her from opening the door is to literally stand outside of her door and hold the door shut.

Which is exactly what I did last night from 1:30 a.m. until 4:00 a.m. This is after I spent 30 minutes helping her back into her bed, doing the night-time thing again, and saying "Five Little Monkeys" about eleventy-billion times. None of that is working. It hasn't been working the whole time so I haven't a clue why I keep doing it. I'll blame the I'm -a-stupid-person induced by pregnancy.

I told her I was done saying the monkeys, we weren't reading any more books and that she had to stay in her bed. This caused much screaming and crying. I am fairly certain that for lack of another way to deal with the feelings she was opening her drawers and throwing things out of them. Either that or she would throw her animals off of her bed. Since I was holding the door shut from outside, she had to do something, right?

I finally got tired of the get up and turn everything on/off behavior, so I took the lamp out of her room and told her I had to remove it because she kept turning it on and we don't do that in the middle of the night. This meant that the next time she got out of bed she decided to press buttons on the oscillating fan that is in her room. She managed to turn it off, and then immediately freaked out about it. Once she calmed a bit I went back in and told her that if she touched the buttons again I would take the fan out.

She didn't turn off her sound machine even once after I took the lamp out because she didn't want to lose that one.

Imagine that.

Anyway, it went like that for two and a half hours. I guess she either finally accepted it or wore herself out because she finally fell asleep at 3:40 a.m. which allowed me to get in the bed and fall asleep around 4. And then she was up at 6.

What a fine night.

I am sure that tonight we'll get to find out if she's accepted the "Don't get out of bed at night" message or if she just got tired of fighting and fell asleep.

I just can't wait.

Walking around like a zombie and feeling like crap is exactly what I was hoping to do this summer.

Unacceptable

2010-07-31T08:29:00.000+11:00

Prior to moving, Rocket Man and I made a few electronics purchases. He eats toast every single morning as part of a balanced breakfast. Therefore, we (and by we I mean mostly me) perused the internets in search of a 220V toaster. Why? Um, because we'd really rather not have to use a transformer with our own toaster.

Obviously we would not do this with everything. The fact that he uses it every morning weighed heavily in the pro buy-a-toaster column. We would have purchased it at the local (ish...it was almost an hour from our house, but still in "Houston") East/West store, where all sorts of 220V things are sold, but the prices there are through the roof.

One thing that can be said about the local store is that everything we've purchased there actually works as it should...

...as long as the slow-cooker we bought there works...haven't tried it yet.

ANYWAY.

We're unpacking boxes last week and we open the toaster - you know, the one that we paid more than normal for and had shipped to our house, etc. etc., and the Nanny frowns and shows me the cord.

Um, yeah. It's not 220V. Not even close. Our families back home could make use of it, sure, but not us.

     Dear toaster,

          Your plug us unacceptable to me.

Today we open up our 220V vacuum. The one that says 240V on the box, but says 220V-240V on the appliance itself. We have to use an adapter plug so that it will fit into the outlet, but that is no big thing.

Right?

It does say 220V-240V.

Um...yeah.

It turns on for about two seconds, makes a little pop (and there might have been a spark) and that is it.

     Dear vacuum,

          Your behavior is unacceptable to me.

At least the vacuum was not pricey. Then again, perhaps that is the problem.

Our plans for the morning? Go to a local appliance store to get a bread-maker and toaster and to at least take a look at the options for vacuums. The only concerning part is that usually vacuums over this-a-way aren't all that great, as evidenced by the one currently in our abode.

Ugh.

2010-07-31T07:26:00.000+11:00

My child went to bed a little after 8:30.

Rocket Man and I unpacked and put away all of the bathroom items after that.

At 10:15 we participated in the general get-ready-for-bed routine.

He fell asleep by 10:30.

I did not do so until well after midnight.

Miss Thing woke up at 3:20.

Now? She is crying incessantly about everything.

I am so sure this is going to be a great day.

Basketballs!!

2010-07-30T16:00:00.002+11:00

When we first arrived here on Sakhalin, most of the families with children were M.I.A. We had a few toys for Miss Thing, but only those that would fit into a tiny carry-on, so not that many really. Boredom was a pretty major factor in casa crazypants. Add to that the fact that we were fairly loopy due to the jet-lag and, well, it was a bit rough.

Thankfully, there is a playroom up at the community center that we could head off to whenever we just needed to get out of the house. Right beside it is the gymnasium. One Saturday after eating brunch in the restaurant, we headed to the gym to play basketball.

Miss Thing was OH SO EXCITED! She threw the ball and she kicked the ball and she chased the ball. Then, after she finally got the ball ("I get it! I get it!"), she would run and shoot the ball. This is an activity she still enjoys (although now if Daddy is there she tells him that she needs help to shoot so that he will pick her up) and we play from time to time.

This video was taken the second time we ever went to play basketball, one day after her second birthday. She is much better at catching the ball on the roll these days, but she enjoys herself just as much now as she did then.

Pop-Pop Giggles

2010-07-30T09:09:00.000+11:00

Just before the final race-to-the-finish of moving, Pop-Pop and Grammie came down to visit us in Houston. They came over Easter weekend. We had plenty of fun and they assisted us with some outdoor-type cleaning as well. The cars were washed...a little early, since we didn't sell them until the first week of May, but at least the insides were super clean. Grammie and I cleaned up some outdoor play things that had been lent to us by some friends. Note to all: we miss everyone!

That afternoon, once all cleaning had been accomplished and Miss Thing had taken her nap (and I had successfully not let anyone know I was pregnant, cause boy howdy did I feel awful by that point), Miss Thing and her Pop-Pop had some fun.

Why is my child naked? I have not a clue. I believe it is just because she wanted to be and therefore: naked. Anyway, the following is a fabulous video of the two of them playing:

As you can see, it doesn't take much to get her going!

Snippets

2010-07-23T08:23:00.000+11:00

I just logged into the email associated with this blog and saw that my one unread message was "Your friends think you need a vacation."

Oh really?

Who am I to argue with that one? I'd love to go see somewhere new. Of course there is that small thing of needing to plan something...

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

Thanks to a friend and my nanny the kitchen is about 95% unpacked and put away. The other 5%? In a box somewhere...probably one labeled "Bedding; Master Bedroom" or something equally silly.

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

We have found and unpacked a large number of the chica's toys and this means that for the first time in a looooooooooooong time she came downstairs and wanted to play instead of immediately attempting to turn on the television.

Small improvements, people.

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

I have already had a request this morning to "Open boxes, Mama?"

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

Rocket Man didn't come home last night until 10pm.

I am assuming it was just a great day at work.

In addition, he left his badge here yesterday morning, so he called me at 9-something (I was in bed) to ask how to get into our neighborhood without it. [There is an entry gate and you show your badge to get in quickly and easily.]

He called back about seven minutes later to tell me his keys are on his badge, so please leave the door unlocked.

So yeah, I didn't go to bed until he got home.

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

While the kitchen is mostly done the rest of my house is a disaster.

Great.

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

Miss Thing enjoys playing with the rolls of tape, small level and assorted screwdrivers lying (for now) on the table beside me:

"I do it."

"This one's better."

"I fix it."

"Try again."

"Mama? I working, Mama"

"You working, Mama - onna computer."

"Bracelets! I wear them! I got all the bracelets, Mama" [tape rolls]

"This one makes one bracelet, this one makes two bracelets, this one makes three bracelets, this one makes four bracelets, this one makes five bracelets!"

[Followed immediately by counting the SAME items over again:]

One, two, five, six, SEVEN BRACELETS!!!"

[She likes to keep us guessing.]

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

Now apparently there is a Mama screwdriver and a bunch of kid screwdrivers. The babies are looking for their Mama; she is giving the babies kisses and so forth.

Screwdrivers; who knew?

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

That is it for this morning. To recap, my child is entertained by the stuff from boxes; our house is a disaster. Oh, and she apparently has an imagination.

Welcome...

2010-07-22T09:54:00.000+11:00

...to my own little corner of Hades.*

The temps are down and the hinges won't singe you, but man oh man is it a torturous place to be.**

*Please do not misunderstand; we will eventually be glad to have our things...I'd say about a week or two after we've finally unpacked and found a place for it all. Until then, it is a rather unpleasant experience as any of you who have recently packed up your entire house and then unpacked it a few months later are well aware.

Unless of course you are a two-year-old. Then it is mighty exciting. And causes you to exclaim about boxes to everyone you see. Also, it may cause you to demand that boxes be opened right before bed as if we should continue doing so throughout the night. You might also deem it necessary to peer out the window in search of more "peoples" on a "big truck, Mama" to bring in more boxes...as if it will now happen every day just to entertain you. Let's not forget the fact that it is exceptionally overwhelming to open boxes with your own toys and things in them and this makes for a grumpy little kid.

So, yeah. The stuff is here. Whenever we get it all sorted, I'll finally post some photos of what our place really looks like. You know, now that it will feel more like our own.

**For those of you who feel inclined to declare that it is our own fault that we have to unpack again, since it is we who chose this life, please note that there is a bit of sarcasm in this post. Also of note is the fact that we are well aware of our choices because contrary to popular belief we do think them through and yes this is one of the things we deal with. It is absolutely worth it. It does not mean that we have to love this part.

Ready, Set, Go!

2010-07-20T16:19:00.000+11:00

Our Saturdays are usually pretty routine. We wake up and lounge around for a little while. Miss Thing watches some Pooh Bear (bae-ah) or Mickey (never woulda guessed, eh?) while I check things out online and attempt to wake myself up. This is especially true of late since our somewhat good sleeper has become a not-so-great one and it is kinda killing me.

Rocket Man usually wakes and does his morning routine, which consists of reading, tea and work email. Again, imagine that.

We usually try to talk to my parents on the webcam for a little bit (man does that thing suck away the internets...we pay by usage here) and then anytime after 11:00 we head up to the community center for brunch.

Rocket Man and I eat breakfast and Miss Thing almost always chooses "Peanut Butter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" for her meal.

Then? Oh, then. We do what Miss Thing has termed: Play Basketballs.

At first this actually meant going into the gym to shoot some hoops...Rocket Man and I for reals and Miss Thing for pretend. She's pretty good for a two-year-old.

Nowadays "Play basketballs" just means go to the playroom and RUN with Daddy.

Below are two videos. The first is the two of them running around the ping-pong tables (hello, corner, please take my eyes out) while Miss Thing squeals. Usually she yells "Let's run!" the whole way.

Video two is one of my favorite because she tells Daddy to "Ready, set, go!" and then enjoys his running before she realizes that she should run too, and her facial expressions are priceless.

Enjoy!

Monopoly Money!

2010-07-18T21:32:00.000+11:00

Technically, they are Roubles. Russian money. But seriously, folks...it's pretty much like playing monopoly. I mean, you can do the conversions in your head...and go crazy with that, or you can just purchase what you need and be done with it.

I believe the current exchange rate requires something along the lines of dividing the Roubles by 30 to figure out how many U.S. Dollars it is.

Um, yeah.

So you can see how I want to constantly do that while shopping.

Okay, so I do the math on imported items, since they tend to cost quite a bit more than your Russian items. Examples include all of your European imports like Spanish olives and Italian olive oil (holy smokes is that expensive) and things like Peanut Butter (I believe it was nine dollars for a smaller than the small U.S. jar size). Yes of course we buy some of those things because they don't have them in a Russian brand...that I know of anyway.

I would like to tell you here that the canned peas here on Sakhalin? They are WAY better than those at home. Like, wow. As in they actually taste good. We all gobble them up and yum. And the fresh fruit? Mmmmmmm.....

Moving on to the real point of this post, the money.

The photo above shows a five-, two- and one-Rouble coin as well as a fifty- and ten-Kopeck coin. One Rouble is divided into 100 Kopecks and apparently the one- and five-Kopeck coins exist, but I have yet to come across them. There also exists a ten-Rouble coin, which I have had (but of course spent) and it looks a lot like the euro coins in that it has a center circle of silver and an outer ring of gold.

The Rouble coins have a two-headed bird on them (I know not which kind nor what it stands for) and the Kopecks have an image of Saint George slaying the dragon. This is supposedly where the Kopeck got its name, since he is holding a spear and 'kopye' is spear in Russian.

The bills...banknotes...are different from most I've seen because they do not have photos of important people on them. Instead they show photos of landmarks and statues (granted, some of those are people) throughout the country. There are bills for five, ten, fifty, one hundred, five hundred, one thousand and five thousand Roubles. I have never seen the five-Rouble note and I've heard and read that it is not all that common because it has been replaced by the coin. The other that I have yet to come across is the five thousand-Rouble bill; this is not because I have no need for it (things cost a lot here and thousands of Roubles are a normal expenditure in the grocery store) but simply because it appears that the ATMs do not give them out.

The ten-Rouble note is a brownish-green (or greenish-brown?) color. The front shows a bridge crossing the Yenisey River in Krasnoyarsk, a major Siberian city. The river ranks fifth for longest world-wide and comes from the Arctic, which makes me think that I would never want to be in it. The back side of the bill shows the Krasnoyarsk dam which is the city's major landmark.

The fifty-Rouble bill has a museum theme. It gets the blue treatment, with a hint of purple thrown in for good measure. The front displays a sculpture found at the foot of a Rostral Column located at the former Stock Exchange in St. Petersburg. Apparently those columns were oil-fired navigation beacons in the 1800s. Imagine that. The goldish building behind the sculpture is the Petropavlovsk Fortress which was established by Peter the Great and eventually became a jail for political prisoners. Today? 'Tis a museum, of course. The back shows the entire Stock Exchange building, also a museum - that of a naval variety.

This red-brown tinted bill shows another sculpture, a horse-drawn chariot of Apollo (god of Arts). This one is located on the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow Once again, the back shows the whole building.

I think that this is one of the best-looking bills. As you can see, it is the five-hundred-Rouble note and it is done in violet with a hint of blue. The front pays homage to Peter the Great with an image of a monument built in his honor as well as that of the sea terminal in Arkhangelsk (in the north) complete with sailing ship. Since he ordered the creation of a state shipyard there in 1693, this is appropriate. The back does not follow suit like the last two bills; it shows the Solovestky Monastery founded in the 15th century. It used to be a major spiritual center and pilgrimage destination and is now a World Heritage site and museum. It once served as a prison camp. Today, it is more peaceful with a few monks living there.

This one is also rather nice to look at. One-Thousand-Roubles is a blue-green that reminds me of tropical waters. The front displays a monument to Yaroslav the Wise...a guy I've not heard of. He founded the city of Yaroslavl (imagine that) located 250 km from Moscow. He apparently reigned for quite some time and managed to turn Russia into a cultural and military power in the 11th century. You can see a chapel of the city's Kremlin behind him and the reverse side shows his Church of St. John the Precursor.

The five-thousand-Rouble note (sorry for the lack of photo) is an orange-ish red color and pays homage to Nikilay Muravyov-Amursky. He was a Russian statesman and diplomat in the 19th century. He played a major role in the expansion of the Russian Empire towards the Pacific Rim. The monument to him is located in Khabarovsk, a major city in the Russian Far-East...so as close to where we are as you can get via the moolah I suppose. The reverse shows the bridge in the same city that carries the Trans-Siberian Railway across the Amur River.

So there you have it, a lesson of sorts in Russian money and a bit of history as well. I have some South Korean dinero and will eventually have some Japanese as well methinks, so perhaps we can compare and contrast. Hope I didn't bore you!

This message goes out to you.

2010-07-09T07:14:00.000+11:00

To whomever called my house today at four a.m.:

To my daughter, who got up today well before six a.m.:

To my husband, who told me at nine p.m. the night before he left that he would be gone for an entire week:

Your timing is most unappreciated.

"Fishes!"

2010-07-05T00:20:00.000+11:00

We've been in Seoul since Thursday evening. I had to come here for some medical testing (for the pregnancy) that they cannot perform in Yuzhno. I plan to blog a bit about our time here, but until then here is a little taste of what we've been up to:

Just in case you thought we were joking...

2010-06-27T09:29:00.000+11:00

Rocket Man's company has a special P.O. Box set up for all of us over here on Sakhalin. Basically, it allows everyone in the states to send us items to Houston which are then sent over here once a week. This way they don't have to pay for postage to Russia.

This is a fabulous thing. There are, of course, some rules. Rules that need to be followed. As in, if we say that you can only send us pickled fish, then you can only send us pickled fish. You cannot also send the bread or crackers on which to eat the pickled fish because those are not on the list.

The items allowed via the P.O. Box are as follows: letters, cards, books, magazines, DVDs, and CDs. Things that fall into the book/magazine category are coloring books and sticker books and so forth for Miss Thing.

Items that absolutely do not fall into any of the above categories?

Crayons.

A little while ago a family member sent Miss Thing some coloring books. And then mentioned that she included some crayons. At which point Rocket Man and I both went: "Uh, oh."

Just to be clear, in case you are wondering, Russia has crayons. We have crayons. It isn't like we have coloring books and nothing with which to color them, lest you think we are torturing our child by giving her coloring books and no crayons.

Anyway.

Rocket Man received a very official email this week. With photos attached. Very zoomed in, graphic photos of...you guessed it...crayons. We are facing a double infraction because there was a box of them in addition to a coloring book with some attached to it.

This communication came from the customs agents who discovered our infractions and they have informed Rocket Man that if he wants the items, he must fill out some paperwork.

Here's the thing. He's thought about telling them to keep the crayons and just release the books or whatnot. Um, nope. We've found out from friends here that someone else had a problem like this and asked them to keep the items that were not allowed and release those that were and nope, it is an all-or-nothing kinda thing. Those items are all in one package, so they are considered as a whole.

Oh, and the best part? The family who went through this before needed the rest of their items (this was a yearly shipment as opposed to the P.O. Box, and they needed the rest of their shipment [which yes can contain other kinds of items, but the rules were not followed, which is the real issue here]), so they started filling out the paperwork, etc.

All of which led to Customs Court.

Um, yeah.

So not only is it an infraction of sorts at work because following the rules is something taken seriously, people, rules that the company helped set up and agreed to, but then there's all of this governmental paperwork to deal with and then the actual court itself.

It took them over three months to sort it out. Not to mention the fact that they had to pay out the wazoo because of the court costs and so forth.

Basically, not something we want to do.

So.

I imagine that Rocket Man will at least try the "keep the items that aren't within the agreement and release those that are" approach, but if they say it is an all-or-nothing sorta deal, then we'll just be letting them know that we don't want any of it.

Better that than to appear on some Russian version of Court TV.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2010-06-26T16:55:00.000+11:00

We started with our nanny this week. Galina is her name and so far things are going well. I mostly hung around the house the first day and put Miss Thing down for her nap myself, just to make things a little smoother. Then I left to go to AP's house to watch the final episodes of Grey's Anatomy. We missed a few when we were moving, so it was nice to see the ending. And might I add: Holy Drama, Batman!

Galina knows enough English that we can communicate enough to take care of things. She is also helping to teach me some Russian. It will be really nice when next week I start my own lessons. She is also very aware that I am pregnant and it appears that here in Russia, once a woman is pregnant, she is to do nothing. I got fussed at for carrying a shopping bag that had something light like toilet paper in it. Also for putting my child in her bed. And after she cleaned the downstairs on Thursday she informed me that I was not to use that vacuum. Not that I mind, since it is a terrible one, but her reasons were a bit different!

I came home from a morning shopping run on Thursday to this:

She loves her potato-head and apparently enjoys putting as many faces on there at a time as possible. Then again, I have had moments with her when she declares: "Need more kisses!" and then proceeds to put all of the Mrs. Potato Head lips on the thing as she can fit. It makes for an interesting looking potato...

*************************************************

Miss Thing is growing. The above is a photo from the first week in March. I may have been a tad remiss in taking photos between then and, well, forever. Moving overseas is a bit time-consuming, what can I say? Anyway, here is a photo from her birthday in late May:

A little different, yes?

*************************************************

Let's talk about eating for a moment. As in my child is an eater. Granted, she does go through phases as far as quantity, but that isn't really what I am talking about. Nope, what I would like to tell you all (and therefore jinx myself) is that she will now try anything. Oh, yes. And for the most part, she will eat anything. No longer do we look at food on our plate and declare "Nooo!" without even smelling it, much less tasting it.

These days she not only tastes everything, but for about three weeks has been eating tons of it all. Not to mention the fact that every time we visit someone else's house she proceeds to eat any and all food offered or spotted in the house. That one I could do without...

She's waned a bit in the eating tons department, but she will eat spicy food, veggies, noodles, hummus, and the list goes on. It is quite nice.

Here is something else she's started doing with Daddy:

I am very happy to be out of the land of chicken nuggets and hot dogs. Not that we don't miss those a bit, but at least I no longer have to worry about her eating or not eating.

*************************************************

On the pregnancy front, my belly is sticking our a little bit. Unless of course I eat something (methinks it is cooked red peppers or sauces made from same) that does not agree with me - then I suddenly look like I am three months further along. It usually lasts anywhere from two to seven days and is accompanied by a fantastic pain whenever I sit, bend, stand, or lie down. So you know, all the time. Excellent, indeed.

*************************************************

I think that is about it, really. OH. We are going to eat out. HOLY SMOKES, PINCH ME. Seriously, folks, we've been eating at our house since we arrived. Which has thrown me full-force back into the "I've gotta figure out what to cook every night of the week" routine that I am sure many of you already follow but that we, especially towards the end of moving, were not adhering to in the slightest. Now that I am into it a good six weeks it is not a huge deal, but at first with the jet lag and the pregnancy nauseousness and the "Now, where do I get [fill in the blank]?" -ness of it all it was...interesting. Plus, getting Rocket Man to COME HOME on time is always an issue. DUDE, WE NEED TO EAT. Anyway, we are going to an Indian restaurant this evening with another couple and their son, so it should be fun!

*************************************************

This wasn't very entertaining or anything. Apologies for that. At least the family can know a little more of what we are up to. I'll try to post some more this weekend!!

June 12 of 12

2010-06-13T10:37:00.000+11:00

Hi there! Miss me? People have been asking for photos, so I figured the 12th was a good day to post again. I know that everyone wants to see the new housing, but right now none of our own stuff is in it, so there's really no point. Once we receive our sea shipment and get the place personalized a bit I'll post photos of the house.

For now, here is our 12 of 12 June. All photos were taken in Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, Russian Federation. My camera was still on Spain time, since I had never switched it upon our return to Houston, so the times are approximate. Check out Chad's site to see what everyone else did!

7:30 - Good morning!

11:20 - Apparently we were sleepy this morning because for the first time in forever we fell asleep during Mama's exercise.

11:21 - The view from our front porch; fabulous weather this week!

11:22 - I love these trees; they do change color and lose their needles, but they look fabulous right now because they've all come in and are bright green.

12:10 - A neighbor has a new puppy named Wolfie. Miss Thing really enjoys playing/petting/hugging and as you can see here, feeding the good doggie.

12:15 - A friend of ours has an 8-month old. PJ loves to watch Miss Thing and Wolfie play.

13:15 - Colors! They keep us busy while we wait for our weekend lunch. Mama and Daddy have breakfast and the girl eats chicken or peanut butter and jelly.

13:45 - We LOVE to play "basketballs!" As in, we ask to play every day.

14:00 - This drill? It is apparently for squishing noses. Noses that are sniffing. I have no clue.

17:30 - BATH! We love this and go "swimming" every time.

18:15 - An after bath after nap snack with Daddy. We are watching the inaugural winter X-games on the television. Anyone know what year that was from? The shows here are behind a bit sometimes...

19:00 - Russian Dinner night at the community center.

The best thing was the meat-stuffed Cabbage and the Blini's (crepes, but not sweet, which are stuffed with anything...ours were stuffed with cabbage and apples and were quite delicious). Also present are stuffed pork, parsley potatoes, cold cucumber soup, and three cold salads: Russian (meat, potatoes, and carrots), cabbage (like a cold slaw with extra onion and different dressing) and Olympia (ham, egg, cheese, cucumber).

It was all very yummy; one of the best meals I have enjoyed there. Hope you enjoyed our day!

T-Minus Ten and Counting.

2010-04-29T11:28:00.000+11:00

So.

The movers come on Monday and Tuesday to pack everything up and send it off to its respective locations.

We fly on Saturday, May 8th. We wanted to fly on the 7th, but since we had to wait until, oh, Tuesday, to make the reservations, there were no seats on those flights. As is, we are booked in three aisle seats, one in front of the other. Someone is going to have a grand time sitting next to Miss Thing.

*****************************

Had Miss Thing's two year appointment a little early. She is now suddenly in the 80th percentile for height. No wonder the clothes are just barely still fitting.

Oh, and she's been getting the hiccups the last couple of days, and usually this means she is growing. If so, she will have to go naked in Russia. The locals will just love us.

*****************************

I've been looking for underpants. I know. You really wanted to know that. I've been to Victoria's Secret...three times, JCPenney, Macy's and Target. Let's all guess where I found the best-fitting pair? And by best-fitting I mean covers my tush without sending me back to middle school and the land of wedgies. That's right, people: Target. 13 pair for about $13. Let's hope they don't fall apart in the wash.

Oh, wait. That is what the $5/pair Victoria's Secret ones do lately. So even if they do, I've still saved.

*****************************

I wasn't ever the recipient (or giver, for that matter) of wedgies in middle-school. Was that mostly a boy thing?

*****************************

Miss Thing has some hair. Shocking, I know. Not long enough for anything except the non-use of baby brushes. They just don't work any more. Therefore, we have been using a comb.

She says: "Cone."

Tonight after her bath (in the kitchen sink because as long as she fits in it, I am using it. Gotta save the back, people.) I was cutting her finger- and toe-nails, an activity she looks forward to about as much as I look forward to the dentist, and I had the "cone" on the bed with us. She distracted herself from the awfulness with it: "Ice-cream cone...Where did it go?...I get it!...I've got you, ice-cream cone!"

*****************************

This post is brought to you by the letters M and N. One day we'll learn the difference.

Aaaaannnnndddd.....More Shopping!

2010-03-21T07:56:00.000+10:00

So I went to my class this morning...for the first time in two weeks. I am a slacker and it showed.

Then we all got ready and headed out to shop for Rocket Man's weather gear for Russia. Oh, and I had to return half of Miss Thing's because she grew and some things just aren't going to fit when we get there. Thankfully they had the clothing in the next size up, so we could get her rain suit and things in the right size.

I think RM can finally see how overwhelming the shopping can be for this move...since he basically turned to me when we got there and said "So what did you buy here?" Um, yeah. I didn't have that kinda help; we were just wandering.

Anyway, he was able to get his rain gear, a pair of boots, socks and a fleece. Then we headed to a ski place and he purchased the warmest coat ever. Apparently he was in danger of sweating in it at the store, so that is pretty warm.

Jason's Deli was our lunch and then home we went so that Miss Thing and I could take a nap. The night-time sleeping, at least for me, hasn't been the greatest lately.

We slept for three hours.

THREE.

I, for one, should never get to sleep tonight.

We're headed to a neighborhood dinner at a tex-mex restaurant in a few minutes; everyone is getting together to say SEE YA! to us. And by everyone I mean whoever is able to show up. It should be good.

Have I mentioned that Rocket Man has been out of town more since January 1st than he has been at home? And that the trend continues up until we leave?

Awesome!

Long Time No Write

2010-03-20T03:12:00.003+10:00

Howdy, Strangers!

It's been a while.

We've been exceptionally busy here at Casa Crazy Pants so I had to take a break from the blogging. The good news is that we've purchased a lot. The bad news is that it cost a lot. Oh, and did I mention that we aren't done? Oh, yeah. It is tough to keep going with it since I feel like I've made a ton of progress...and yet, there are those things that haven't been covered yet.

Aside from that, things are moving along. The paperwork is being processed for tons of things: visas, health certificates, home sale, and the list goes on. We still have our cars to sell, and that hasn't really begun yet, but since we are most likely going the carmax route, there isn't really much involved.

The dog, he has a home. All of you out there who know him or of him can thank B because thanks to him Senor Cooper shall have somewhere to live. He'll have one person all to himself with some visits from R-Shelly (and he loves her) not to mention the back yard with a fence and some dogs to terrorize.

No, really. He will.

Miss thing knows we are going to Russia. And that Cooper is going to live with "Cooper's B". Apparently that is how it works. Cooper will now own B. Not that Cooper would complain about that distinction. She's always trying to add people to the list of who goes to Russia: "Mama, Daddy, Miss Thing, Guga, Papa Jim RUSSIA!!!" And yes, she shouts the RUSSIA part.

At least she's excited.

I will leave you with a few quotes:

"Uh, oh, Skuttios!" (when something falls)

"I found Mama!" (surely you can figure this one out)

"Mama's HAT!" (when she brings me one of her two cowgirl hats so we are both wearing one)

"Too Tight!" (Whenever something feels different...or LOOKS uncomfortable...like on her baby doll)

Have I mentioned that she now has a few books memorized and she enjoys reading them? It is too funny.

THAT IS ALL!

Holy Shopping, Batman!

2010-03-08T13:06:00.000+10:00

We've been shopping the last couple of days. Little things that we need for our place in Russia as well as all of the decorative items we want to have in our very neutral home. Rugs - indoor, outdoor and everything in between have been looked at, felt, walked on, and purchased.

Curtains are the bane of my existence.

The list for winter gear has a dent in it. As does my bank account.

We are all exhausted; Miss Thing especially. That is what happens when you push lunch and nap times back more than an hour two days in a row. Thankfully, we only had one minor melt-down and it was remedied with a few crackers. When we all got home everyone took a nap. Unfortunately, she only slept an hour and a half. Normally this would be fine, but with people here and so many things happening, it is not nearly enough. She did sleep another hour with her Guga, so that was nice.

We are going to attempt curtains again tomorrow. Take 24,546,573.

I might just buy the ugliest things we see just to have it done.

Let's hope not.

And I Quote...

2010-03-07T13:02:00.001+10:00

Pa-Jim...sugars

Pfessor! (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, anyone?)

EL-LE-LANT! (While Guga was napping)

I get it!

Wead, Pa-Jim, wead.

Me: What would you like to eat for dinner?
Miss Thing: Lunch!

We've been teaching her that we have to stop the car when the light is red. Usually she demands that we GO! This morning I came to a stop sign and had to wait for some traffic to pass.
Miss Thing: The light is wed.

They were playing music at lunch today. She decided to join in:
Tequila!

While at the rodeo, we went into the petting zoo. There was a rather large goat that was mostly black with a couple of white spots here and there.
Miss Thing (to the goat): Cow! Meoooooooooooo!

Also at the rodeo, there were camel rides. We stopped to show her the camel.
Miss Thing: Horse! Neeeeeeeeeeh!

Normal for Some Folks...

2010-03-06T13:35:00.006+10:00

...is strange to me.

[just in case you couldn't read that]

YEAH!

2010-03-05T12:28:00.000+10:00

Guga and Papa Jim are here.

They arrived this morning via airplane.

I spent the morning...

washing sheets

getting milk and cheerios

turning on MICKEY!!!!!

cleaning the kitchen

hiding all of the stuff we've purchased

feeding the girl-child

and myself

drying the sheets

calling the computer guy to get our printer online

making the bed

checking the flight status

and driving to the airport.

On our way there I asked her who she would see. She responded with "Daddy!!!" I told her that yes, she would finally see her Daddy today, but HELLO, who is coming to give her hugs and kisses (we've only talked about this a bazillion times so far today)...and she thought.

And she thought some more.

Then she declared "Guga!"

And "Pa-Jim!"

I mentioned that they would be coming in on an airplane and she said "YEAH!!"

When we got close to the airport we started seeing HUGE cargo planes taking off, which she LOVED and I hoped wouldn't fall on me cause HOLY SMOKES are they huge when they've just taken off and happen to be RIGHT OVER your car.

Then we spent a couple of minutes whining/complaining/begging for more airplanes.

FINALLY, we saw some more.

"AIR-PAAAAAAAAANE!!!!!"

"THERE IS IIIIIIISSSSSS!!!!"

"IT'S PRETTYYYYYYYYYYY!"

So yeah, that last one was strange, but to each her own, right?

faux post

2010-03-04T14:07:00.000+10:00

Nothing today, people.

I'm tired.

I have a major headache brewing...

...it will probably be awful in the morning.

Good times.

That's all.

Penguin Giggles

2010-03-03T12:23:00.011+10:00

Let me set this one up for you.

The penguin is saying "Just smile and wave , boys." and "Progress report!". Papa Jim and Guga are her audience by way of web cam. That's Papa Jim you hear laughing and talking to her.

The crazy giggles? I have no idea. Apparently that penguin is TOO FUNNY.

oomph

2010-03-02T14:23:00.000+10:00

My day was a bit of a battle.

Stranger things have happened.

I am sure I will use that phrase many times this month.

Right now? I am headed to bed.

My child? She is crying out in her sleep.

Awesome.

The battle continues...

Another One Bites the Dust

2010-03-01T11:36:00.001+10:00

Month two of 2010 is coming to and end.

Amazingly, I managed to post something every day. Granted, this is the shortest month, which makes it a little easier I suppose.

I am going to try and post each day in March, but I am definitely worried that I won't be able to find the time every single day. The posts might have to be short since we are quickly being thrown into the madness that is moving overseas.

I love it while disliking parts of it.

Sounds like life, eh?

I am tired this evening, a combination of the stress and the cold [allergies?] I am currently experiencing.

Let's hope I can get some things accomplished tomorrow and that posting here is one of them!

Lata.

Happy Day to Me

2010-02-28T12:50:00.022+10:00

I began my day by attempting to breathe.

I have a cold, and it is a doozy on the sinuses.

Once I was sure that I would indeed be able to breathe for the day, I went to the gym to do a Body Attack class. Yay for exercise!

I then came home and we all got ready to go to the zoo. This included changing Miss Thing out of her pajamas and into some proper clothing. Just before I put on her shoes and socks I leaned over her and asked her if she knew what day it was.

She looked at me like I was crazy.

Then I told her that it is Mama's birthday.

She responded with a song.

It was awesome, unasked for, and the best birthday present from a little one. Here is a re-enactment:

Excellent, yes? Especially the "and many more" section.

The zoo was excellent, full of Miss Thing running throughout the place. Pei Wei was nice for lunch. The afternoon was relaxing and I spoke with some family.

Then we had dinner.

It was best summed up by Rocket Man:

"One day we'll laugh about that dinner."

I'll just leave it at that.

Dancin'

2010-02-27T12:18:00.002+10:00

We had Mexican food tonight.

Margaritas were involved.

The dancing was a side-effect...

Draining the Bank Account

2010-02-26T12:33:00.000+10:00

And so it begins.

I think that for the foreseeable future shopping will be a daily activity.

Since I don't really like shopping, this is not a good thing.

Since my daughter gets tired of shopping (who can blame her?), this is really not a good thing.

When we moved to Spain, we didn't really have a bunch of things to purchase. Sure, we bought some spices and a couple of things here and there...like a hand-held can-opener...but overall, we didn't have to buy a lot in order to live there.

On the flip side, we did have to make decisions regarding how much of our own stuff we would take with little to no indication of what we would actually need once we arrived. We knew housing came furnished, but there are varying degrees of furnished in this world, and who knew what we would end up with.

This move to Russia is much easier in some ways. For example, I really am not worried at all about selling the house because I know how that works now. I am also not all that concerned about what we need to take (of our own items) because there is company-maintained housing there and we literally have a list of what is in each place.

Plus, there are some very nice people over there responding to all of my silly email questions about strange things like are there bookshelves and how about trashcans...

In other ways this move is much more difficult. The main difficulty is that of the weather. Or, to explain it better, what in the world we should wear for the weather. I mean, we've lived in the land of many snowfalls (aka Virginia), but not anywhere that has arctic temps. ARCTIC.

We know nothing about it.

Nothing, Nada, Zilch.

This makes purchasing the correct clothing a little difficult. What complicates matters is the fact that we live in Houston, Texas. Our "winter" weather is their spring/summer weather. With the exception of August, when I believe they get warmer temps.

Even with all of that, things aren't soooo bad. I mean, I love to wear pants and loathe shorts (on me, they just feel wrong...unless I am working out), so I am actually quite happy that I will be able to wear them practically all year.

So what is so tough? Aside from needing rain suits and snow suits and all that goes with them (which I know little about), there is the fact that I have a young child.

You know the saying?

They grow like weeds.

That phrase should have an addendum: but who knows when!

I've been told to bring snow suits for when we get there and also that we need to bring all of our own summer clothes because they don't sell much there. Rocket Man and I can easily purchase these items and know they will still fit when we get there.

Miss Thing? Not so much.

In addition to clothing uncertainties, there are the other items we should bring: Curtains, bedding, food, craft storage, any and all toys/learning manipulatives/books that we want to be in English, skis ??!?!, and the list goes on.

Today I made a small dent: craft storage.

I made a trip to the Container Store.

I spent some money.

I came away with a six-drawer scrapbook paper storage unit, some stack-able drawers for yarn/craft storage and a small unit of the elfa closet organizer bins. Everything is on casters and will fit into closets if we want it to.

Tomorrow? I hope to tackle sheets, comforter set, curtains, and whatever else I can think of to get at JCPenney, since that is where we are headed!

Good-bye money, hello sanity!

Let Me Join the Masses

2010-02-25T11:43:00.000+10:00

Up until this year, I've never been one to watch American Idol until they have culled it down to the top twelve. Even then I usually don't care to watch the first six or so get the boot. This year, however, we have been watching. I even watched the auditions.

Apparently they've changed things since the last time I payed any attention. Instead of two hours or so of so-embarrassing-I-can't-bear-to-watch-it programming, they managed to show people who actually had a shot. Yes, there were a few this-person-actually-thinks-they-can-sing-but-holy-cow-they-must-be-deaf moments, but for the most part I was only embarrassed approximately once each evening, which is saying a lot, since I used to not be able to watch it at all.

Really, how can these people not know that they sound awful?

Anyway.

I haven't caught up this week yet for a variety of reasons, the least of which is not the fact that we are moving. To Russia. Holy Smokes. Also - there's a thing called the Olympics on, and I try to watch what little of that interests me each evening.

Have you seen the ice-dancers' folk music costumes??? CA-RA-ZY.

What is the point of this post? Oh, yeah. I actually have some favorites. Based on the little we have seen of them thus far I have a couple of the girls I like and definitely one guy. Will I vote? Um, no. I haven't ever done that, either.

One thing that bothers me is that AI chooses some of these people for human interest stories that we all get to follow throughout the audition process. The up-side is that if you make it, you probably already have a good fan-base who will vote for you. The down-side, aside from the obvious with those who do not make it, is that all of the people who don't get highlighted in any way are already at a disadvantage going into the "America votes" shows.

I know everyone signs a release and surely they know going into it that they might not win the lottery in this area but it all seems unfair to me.

Then again, life is hardly ever fair, is it?

I can say that my favorites have nothing to do with the home-life or any other extraneous information given through the highlights; rather, I like a few who had some really strong (in my opinion) performances during Hollywood week. And usually the judges and I agree, especially Simon.

You can hate him if you'd like, but dude knows what he's talking about.

[Except (apparently, because I wasn't watching) with Jennifer Hudson...]

Then again, there were some faces in the "Here's who made it" segments that I felt like I hadn't seen at all, so in the end the producers, etc. ARE deciding my favorites for me simply through exclusion.

Those who were left out certainly have a lot more pressure on them during these short all-girl and all-boy weeks...

Anyone reading this have an opinion about all of this?

Does anyone even read this?

Heavy questions, people, HEAVY.

Bombs Away

2010-02-24T13:01:00.000+10:00

The sleepy-time Olympic training continues.

Today we had a short nap-time training run.

I am fairly certain that the event was ski jump.

Why?

Let me tell you!

Books read: check
Sound machine turned on: check
Dog, Lamb, Bear and Penguin accounted for: check
Blanket placed on top: check

I love you is said and out the door I go; off to sleepy town she goes.

Not so much.

Nope, I spend the next thirty minutes listening to a cacophony of communication, all emanating from, you guessed it, my child.

She talked to her animals in a high voice, a whiny voice, a demanding voice, a quiet voice, a shouting voice, a sing-song voice, and the list goes on.

I guess Olympic training is hard on the coaches, too.

It's amazing that they don't lose their voices.

As for me, I can only wish...

All of a sudden these voices change dramatically and turn into a real-deal the world is ending crying/whining/get in here quick voice.

I hear her call "Lamb!"

Except that the way she pronounces it, it is more like lame with a b on the end...and very dramatic:

"Laaaaaaaaaaammmeeeb!"

My, oh my what just happened?

Apparently in his quest for gold, Lamb has gone wildly off-course. He has jumped ship, or crib as it were, and is out of his coach's reach.

She is distraught.

I decide to rescue her and hopefully get a nap into the mix. I go in, save Lamb and take Miss Thing over to the rocker to read yet one more book. Then I put her back into her bed (amongst pleadings for "Out there") and listen to the muted crying. At least she knows that the crying won't change things.

It is so difficult to accept defeat.

Safety First

2010-02-23T14:10:00.000+10:00

In an attempt to go with the theme for the month, I shall tell you a story that ties into yesterday's post.

Miss Thing has a Handy Manny toolbox. It talks and sings the Hop Up, Jump In song. While singing, the front row of tools moves up and down a la carousel.

Both of the screwdrivers, Turner and his pal Felipe, are located in the front row. I'll let you guess which is the flat-head.

This afternoon Miss Thing placed Turner into his slot and told him to "Buckle Up!" before pressing the button that makes them dance.

They're hammering in those safety protocols at a young age...

Snippets

2010-02-22T13:01:00.000+10:00

I woke up to Miss Thing and Rocket Man climbing on the bed this morning.

At 10 am.

Whoa.

I woke up at 6:30 and again at 8:30 and then subito, it was 10am.

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

If you ask Miss Thing to show you her muscles, she will hold both arms up, clench her fists and squish her face up in concentration. It is awesome. Must post photo or video soon.

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

Rocket Man did a lot of work this weekend. Friday evening he finished submitting our taxes. Then we cleaned/organized our closets on Saturday (which included taking a very old, large, heavy television to Good Will). That evening he started cleaning the house and we finished together this morning.

Once he had worked out and so forth this afternoon he was complaining about being super sore. Oh, how his legs aches. Oh, how his back aches. He then says to me "Must have been all that work I did..." He meant: "...that you didn't do." Yes, he said it like that. On purpose. To get a rise out of me.

I reminded him that I gave birth.

Running on Fumes: +1; Rocket Man: -3,239,872,387

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

Two minutes later he declared "Those shoes just do NOT like to be in the closet!"

He was referring to my sneakers.

Smarty Pants.

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

As part of his workout, Rocket Man took Cooper for a run. When he returned, he removed Cooper's collar and left it on the rug in the entry.

Of course Miss Thing found it; it has shiny metal things that clink together.

She walked proudly into our bedroom with the collar around her neck. She admired the collar and the tags hanging from it.

She then took the belt buckle part of it into her hands and attempted to close it while exclaiming "Buckle up!"

It's Magic!

2010-02-21T11:58:00.000+10:00

Scene: our car; in the drive-through at Dairy Queen.
Why: Oreo Blizzard, Duh.

Rocket Man: Do you have any cash?

Me: No...oh, wait, yes. In my wallet.

[rummage around in the diaper bag for my wallet, find it (score!) and open it to take out some cash to find a five dollar bill]

RM: Where'd you get THAT?!?! (ALL INCREDULOUSLY LIKE)

Me: Um, at that place, you know...the BANK? (ALL DUH LIKE)

RM: (laughs) Oh, there.

Me: No, I MADE it!!!! It's Magic!!!!

RM: Miss Thing, your mother is a counterfeiter; we're all going to jail.

Me: No way, not if it's magic!!

End Scene.

What say you, internets? If it is indeed magic (which automatically says it is untraceable, etc.), then are we going to jail?

Goodnight, Moon

2010-02-20T12:32:00.000+10:00

"Mooooooooonnnnnnn!"

If we are in the car after it is dark out and the moon is up, Perpetual Motion cries out for the moon until she catches a glimpse of it through the car window.

Watch out if for some reason, like, I dunno - we are DRIVING somewhere and have to TURN - and therefore she can no longer spot her shiny friend.

Then there is much sadness and wailing for the moon.

***************************

A friend came over to play with us today and Miss Thing did sooooooo much better than previous play-date events. She only took things a couple of times, and gave them back if I asked her to.

She also cried when they left because she was already missing them.

***************************

For the first time EVER (aside from a few newborn moments), Rocket Man put the child to bed. She did her usual whine a bit about anything she can think of to delay bedtime routine, which doesn't ever work for her, so I am not sure why she keeps doing it...but aside from that, it was smooth bed-time-ing.

***************************

We are supposed to clean out closets this weekend. That may sound like a strange thing to you all, but we tend to, um, store things in our closets. This storage is most likely to occur when we really don't need or want the items any longer. Therefore, cleaning out aka tossing a bunch of stuff, will greatly assist us in moving right along the we're moving to Russia track.

***************************

Today it was about 60 degrees outside, though very overcast and somewhat chilly with the breeze. Yes, I am aware that most of my relatives have some choice words for me after that revelation. My point? We shall soon be the "It's sooooo cold...." winners because where we're headed the SUMMER months are what we experienced today.

***************************

At least I can wear pants all year long. I hate shorts. They are awful. Skirts are okay, but pants? Awesome.

***************************

I wonder how I'll feel about snow-pants. Looking and feeling like the Good-Year Blimp can't possibly be all it's cracked up to be. Actually, I've never heard of it being cracked up to be anything, so...who came up with that phrase anyway?!?

***************************

Still no Doggy home. Poor Cooper. Flop, flop, flop.

***************************

Goodnight, Moon.

POW!

2010-02-19T11:59:00.000+10:00

I love Cooper's floppy ears. Flop, flop, flop, flop. Every step gets a flop. The faster he walks, the faster they flop. It is the best.
Three pairs of my shoes are upstairs in the living room. Three. Why? No, really, please tell me.
Miss Thing was fussy today. With a loud, capital Yyyyyyyyyy. It started when she got out of bed at 7:30 and never really stopped. Perhaps there are some teeth moving around in there.
Apparently she actually woke up by 6:45. So. Perhaps the fussy was a combination of "Get me out of here!" and "I'm hungry!". Did I know? Nope. Rocket Man didn't tell me what time he first heard her until we were eating dinner.
I'm tired, so tired.
The search for new doggy-parents is still on. We have one couple who aren't sure and that is about it. There are some nice people from a Lakeland Rescue looking into things for us, so let's all hope we get some options there.
Rocket Man gave Miss Thing a Minnie Mouse for Valentine's Day. She complements her Mickey Mouse well.
I don't know why in the Clubhouse show she is wearing all pink but in...um...real life?...she is wearing all red.
Miss Thing doesn't care.
Cooper brought his shoe to me and is playing the "I'm not looking at my shoe. Shoe? What shoe? Did someone say shoe? Oh, did you want to play with my shoe?" game.
I wore an ankle brace to BodyAttack on Monday. It helped immensely. My ankle/tendons/whatevers were sore for a day and a half, but nowhere near as sore as they have been previously.
Whatevers - I'm a real wordsmith.
There's a woman in my BodyPump class who gets REALLY upset if anyone sets up their equipment/stuff in front of her. And yet she ALWAYS sets herself up in the VERY BACK of the room. This makes NO SENSE to me.
NO, REALLY.
Sometimes Miss Thing likes to stand REALLY close to the TV while watching Mickey or Manny. Sometimes, like today, I let her. This makes me a Bad Mom.
Sometimes, like today, I don't care.
Apparently men whose names begin with M are all the toddler rage.
Of course, today, everything made my toddler rage.
Not in a good way.
Right now, she is practicing for the Olympics.
In her bed.
As much as she practices, she better win gold.

Sad Times Ahead

2010-02-18T12:31:00.001+10:00

It will be sad to leave our neighborhood friends here in the next month or so.

It will be sad that we will not have good HOT Mexican food (Tex-Mex, really).

It will be most sad that we have to leave our dog, our Chompy-Lones here in the states while we embark on our next adventure.

It just isn't fair to take him where we will have trouble exercising him and where our housing will be smaller, and the list goes on.

We have one person interested in him at this point, but it is just a maybe.

Hopefully we can find a home for him, because he is a good boy and has brought so much joy to our lives.

I think the giving away falls to me because Rocket Man has already told me that he does not think that he will be able to be there when the final hand-off occurs. Since Miss Thing won't understand it, perhaps she should not be there either.

I don't know.

It is just sad.

We Have Lift-off!

2010-02-17T11:46:00.000+10:00

We made a visit to the passport agency in Houston today. It was slightly involved...mostly because we like to stress each other out for things like this - you know, just to make it fun.

Miss Thing's passport photo was "too far away", so we had to get that taken again. Then we had to wait for an eternity to a 20-month-old for them to call our number a-la-DMV.

All in all the process was fairly painless, somewhat expensive, easier than I thought it would be and to top it all off Miss Thing and I should receive our new and renewed passports within a week if not sooner.

Yup.

That's what I call expedited.

Russia, here we come!

Happy Vvvveeeeeee Day; Take Two

2010-02-16T12:04:00.000+10:00

I am sure you are all waiting with bated breath to find out what Rocket Man and I gave each other for Valentine's Day.

It was a joint gift.

A clue, if you will:

BrrRRRZRZrzrzZRZZZrzrzrzrzzZZRRZRZRZRZRZRZZZzzzz

"OOooohhhhhh."

BrrRRRZRZrzrzZRZZZrzrzrzrzzZZRRZRZRZRZRZRZZZzzzz

"Oh, wow."

BrrRRRZRZrzrzZRZZZrzrzrzrzzZZRRZRZRZRZRZRZZZzzzz

"Oh, man does that feel good."

BrrRRRZRZrzrzZRZZZrzrzrzrzzZZRRZRZRZRZRZRZZZzzzz

"This thing really works!"

BrrRRRZRZrzrzZRZZZrzrzrzrzzZZRRZRZRZRZRZRZZZzzzz

"Ahhhhhhhh."

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

Electric toothbrushes, people.

'Cause that's how we roll.

Happy Love Day

2010-02-15T12:22:00.000+10:00

There's this song I sing with Miss Thing. It is to the tune of the Oscar Meyer Bologna song. For those of you who know her name, here is how it goes:

My [first name] has a first name;
it's [spell her first name here].

My [first name] has a second name;
it's [spell her middle name here].

I snuggle with her every day,
and if you ask me why I'll say:

'Cause [first name] [middle name] is the best
with whom to S-N-U-G-G-L-E.

Lately she has taken to singing WITH me. As in, we both sing at the same time. While this may seem normal for all of you, it is a recent development here. She knows this song and will request it from time to time.

This morning, Rocket Man woke up with her and let me sleep a little bit. That is, until he attempted to go to the bathroom and thought that he could shut the door for some privacy. Miss Thing quickly pointed out his mistake and managed to wake me up in the process.

I tried to get back to sleep, unsuccessfully, and when I came out she was watching (who else?) Mickey Mouse. Watching him is apparently quite involved, so she didn't see me when I first woke up. She was on the floor and I came over to sit on the sofa. When she did see me, she got all excited and immediately climbed up to sit with me.

By with me I mean on me, of course.

Then? She did the cutest thing ever.

She leaned over and rested her head on me and said "Snuggle!"

So we sang.

Together.

Happy Valentine's Day, Mama.

V is for Vicious

2010-02-14T12:19:00.019+10:00

Grammie and Pop-Pop sent Miss Thing a valentine gift.

It is...well...you can decide for yourself.

She enjoys it, but to the point that letting her play with it means that when she is done (read: we tell her she is done) she cries and carries on as if the world has ended. It is quite a lot to deal with.

The dog sees it as an imminent threat. We are all about to die, he just knows it. He attacks, although he isn't sure which end requires his attention, so he alternates between the two. That is quite a lot to deal with as well.

Needless to say, it spends a lot of time "hanging out" somewhere in the depths of our closet.

And it looks so innocent....

Has It Really Only Been Four Days?

2010-02-13T12:23:00.000+10:00

This week feels like it has been two or three. Britn just went home on Monday, but is feels like she left weeks ago. We've had ear and eye infections, and now I'm getting that tell-tale scratch in the back of my throat that means high-grade congestion is about to set in.

We found out for certain that we are going to Sakhalin, RF, which means lots of good things are in store...as well as lots of pain in the neck items as well. Preparing to move is not the greatest, especially when you have to find and follow various rules and regulations, which are different every time you move. I am apparently going to be very adept at detailed inventory-ing for this move...as in every single box will have its very own inventory.

Awesome.

The last time we moved I was six month pregnant. I packed everything, labeled/inventoried (as if that is a verb?) everything, cleaned the apartment as well as moved furniture back to its original position. It was a lot of work. This time I will not be pregnant, but I will have to manage to do the same things with a child in the house, and since her idea of a good time is to move things out of clean, organized piles and spread them all over tarnation, we will be butting heads.

Awesome.

A childhood friend of mine is pregnant right now, and she recently declared that she is nesting. What a strange term. When we returned from Spain, no nesting occurred. Oh, sure, we bought some furniture and unpacked, and things like that, but we would have done that anyway. And yes, we purchased things for the child, but I am fairly certain that is required if you want to take your kid home from the hospital.

At no point was I overcome by an overwhelming urge to clean/organize/be ready and at no point did I in any way tell my husband that THIS HAS TO BE DONE OR ELSE or anything like that. I never felt that way at all.

Tell me I'm moving to Russia, however, and I want to get into every closet, dresser, drawer, cabinet, and crevice and THROW CRAP AWAY. When you know that you're moving, it is way easier to take a look at something and know whether or not you want to take it or store it or trash it.

Don't get me wrong, once we found out for real (Monday...feels like weeks ago), I freaked out and then did nothing. I finished reading a book, started reading another (both I had read previously, by the way), looked up a little info on passports for minors and then did nothing.

Nada.

Now? I am wanting to chuck things into the trashcans.

Hopefully I shall refrain myself a tad so as to not chuck something important. But all of that "important" stuff? If it is only pretending to be, it is gone.

We are going to get the tiny one's passport stuff taken care of on Monday, which means photos tomorrow. HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAH! I expect that to go really well!

Have a fabulous evening, happy Olympics, and I'm out (chucking things in the trash).

What a Day

2010-02-12T11:28:00.001+10:00

Jeepers Creepers.

Up early.

Fussy child.

Trip to store.

Lunch.

Nap - both of us.

Snack.

Call from Rocket Man; will be late.

This changes all afternoon and dinner plans.

Yay for single-everything-ing.

Pump It Up.

Dinner.

Bath.

Bed.

Add in putting cream into the dog's eyes three times today as well as eye drops every time I breathe and it has been an exhausting day.

On another note, I found out that my high school English teacher and I have the same favorite book series. How funny is that?

Not a Dry Eye in the House....

2010-02-11T11:43:00.000+10:00

...or so we thought.

Cooper's vet trip today was a very costly one, as they tend to be when going for something other than the usual checkup.

Apparently he has dry eye; that is what the vet has on the top of her list. The dry eye issue has created an infection in both eyes and now we have an antibiotic cream that we squeeze into his eyes twice a day.

At least he doesn't seem to have an issue with that.

I have to call again by Monday with an update and then take him in for another tear test a little later than that. There is a tiny chance that he simply has an allergic reaction going on, but she doesn't seem to think so.

If the second tear tests come back on the low side we'll have to give him a medication for the rest of his life...which I am really hoping is not a cream in the eye type medication, but I have my doubts.

Other than that, the day was very full but normal I suppose.

I am tired.

We're Moving!

2010-02-10T11:34:00.000+10:00

We've been hearing for a while now that Rocket Man will be changing positions at work and that it will require a move on our part. Since Houston is not Rocket Man's nor my hometown, this is fine with us.

That being said, this time will be much harder than the last in terms of leaving our neighborhood. We've actually made some friends this go 'round and we will miss them dearly...and hope to keep in touch with them.

I just wrote keep in tough with them...BAZOOKAS!

Yesterday we found out that we are for sure moving to Russia. More accurately, to an island off of the eastern shore of Russia called Sakhalin. We will live in/near a city called Yuzhno.

Google Earth THAT.

We will be very cold.

We will also be very close to Japan.

I told Rocket Man I want to go to Japan for my birthday. Yes, the actual day is the end of this month...but we hardly ever celebrate it on time, mostly because inevitably Rocket Man is out of town for work, so this time we'll just delay the celebration until we get over there.

We also want to see some of China and hopefully we can manage to cross the equator in the dead of winter a time or two...since the dead of winter lasts for months over there.

Our move date is officially in March, but we are fairly certain that we won't make that because of this and that (read: paperwork), so we're hoping for May.

We can go to Japan for Perpetual Motion's second birthday as well. Woot!

It is a difficult assignment and we are absolutely certain that there will be many challenges that are far more...challenging...than when we lived in Spain (the language being the least of them), but we are choosing to be positive about this and will attempt to reap from it all that we can.

And now, for a bedtime story:

Last night Rocket Man went to bed before I. A couple of hours later as I was crawling into bed and moving the sheets, etc., he propped himself up on one arm and looked at me and the following conversation took place:

Rocket Man: "Do I have mountains?"

Me: giggle, giggle, snort, giggle "What?"

RM: "Do I have mountains?"

Me: SNOOOOOOORT, GIGGLE, GIGGLE "Do you have mountains?"

RM: laugh, laugh

......

......

......

......

and then said in an I'm making myself clear now tone: "Dirt!"

Me: AAAUUUGGGHHHAHAHAHAHAHA! "What???!?!?!"

RM: "Never mind."

End Scene with Rocket Man going swiftly back to sleep. Today, when I asked him about it, he only laughed because he remembered nothing.

I am way off on the theme today, so if anyone can manage to tie together our move and RM's night-time questions, feel free to leave your ideas in the comments!

Well, Poop.

2010-02-09T12:40:00.000+10:00

As you are aware, Perpetual Motion has been suffering from a bit of congestion.

And leakage.

See yesterday's post if you are confused.

She slept past 7:30am for the first time in five days; it was nice not to be woken up at 6-something this morning. She seemed so much happier this morning and Britn and I both commented on how she must be feeling better.

We got everyone ready and then dropped her off at school. From there, Britn and I went to the airport so that she could finally get home. I made it back to the house and managed to eat some breakfast and throw some laundry in when I get a phone call.

It is the school.

Well, poop.

Miss PM had been not acting herself all morning and was pointing to her ear and telling her teachers that it hurt. Since she is no prone to ear infections and usually only tells me about things that are bothering her if they really do, I decided to call the doctor's office.

They have no appointments available, so the receptionist transfers me to the nurses' desk.

Well, poop.

I described the situation and she tells me they can squeeze me in later in the afternoon. PM eats some lunch and then I give her meds so that she can breathe a little easier during her nap.

She woke up earlier than usual.

Well, poop.

We head off to the doctor's office and manage to get in to an exam room fairly quickly. We wait awhile and the Doctor comes in...so Miss Thing cries.

Well, poop.

He diagnoses her with not one, but two ear infections.

Well, poop.

We leave the office and make our way through rush hour traffic to the pharmacy. While waiting for them to fill the prescription I find items that the nurse informed me we would need in two to three days: white bread and pedialyte. Oh, yeah, her medication will cause her to have really runny poop.

Well, poop.

As I am checking out, PM starts to get upset and tells me "Shew-eeee", which means she needs to poop. Since she hasn't done so all day, I imagine so. Apparently it is traumatic, so I hide her face while she passes some excellent gas.

Well, poop.

We finally get what we need and head for the door when it begins to pour outside. We went from 71 degrees and mostly sunny to 53 and pouring in no time flat. My shoes get soaked on the way to the car and both of us are dripping by the time we manage to shut all of the doors.

Well, poop.

By the time I get us home it is almost 6pm. I rush to make a dinner for PM and just when I am about to put her in her chair to eat, I notice that she has indeed finally pooped. So I take her into the bedroom to change her diaper. I lay her on the bed and as I am taking off her pants I notice that there is a huge smear of something on the sleeve of my sweater. Whatever could that be?

Well, poop!

Oh, yes. It was on my sweater, our comforter, inside her pants and on her shirt. Excellent indeed. I get her changed, change my shirt, scrub everything, and finally she eats her dinner. I mange to give her the first dose of medication, which she takes fairly well. Then it's off to get ready for bed. Once her pajamas are on, we go upstairs to talk to Guga and Papa Jim on the web cam. After a short talk we say goodnight and I am about to take her into her bedroom to read books when I notice that she needs her diaper changed yet again.

Well, poop.

After that stinkeroo, we read books and she goes to sleep. I clean up a few things and head downstairs to start the dishwasher when Rocket Man comes home. We talk a bit, he changes clothes and we come upstairs to eat and I see some dark spots on the floor. You've got to be kidding me!

Well, poop!

That's right, chompy-lones has pooped on the carpet. 'Cause he couldn't come tell me that he needed to go outside. Oh, no.

All I can say is that it's a good thing Britn went home this morning, because I do not think that she would have enjoyed the remainder of the day one bit.

Not even a tiny one.

Well, Snot.

2010-02-08T14:04:00.001+10:00

My new black sweater.

Rocket Man's workout clothes.

Britn's pajamas.

Miss Thing's Dog-Dog and Lamb.

My jeans.

Rocket Man's sweatpants.

Britn's blackberry.

Miss Thing's blanket.

...

...

...

...Read the title and figure it out...

And yes, she's a little under the weather today.

I've Got Nuthin'

2010-02-07T12:05:00.000+10:00

For reals.

We got up.

We played.

We ate lunch.

We napped / read a book / worked on email, depending on who we are.

We had a snack / or not.

We went to the ZOO!

We saw lions and tigers and bears.

Oh my!

We ran around like a crazy person / looked at animals.

We picked up dinner.

We ate dinner.

We ran around "Nakiiiiiiid!" / corralled the wild child.

We put pajamas on the wild child.

We talked on the web-cam.

We went to bed / read books / watched TV.

And the only thing I can think of for the theme?

I tied my shoes today, people.

And when I took them off, I untied them.

Things That Make You Go...

2010-02-06T13:09:00.001+10:00

Saying the following: "Ready, Set, Go!"

Sitting on the bottom step and sliding off onto the floor.

Daddy pushing you around the house in your car.

Swings

Slides

Climbing on your poofy chair and taking a "step" off.

Climbing over the arm of your poofy chair and onto the floor.

Climbing from the sofa onto your poofy chair.

Sliding feet first off of the sofa onto the floor.

Daddy or Britn swinging you in the air.

Riding your zebra bouncy toy.

Turning onto your belly and sliding down the stairs.

And apparently, if you are the Daddy, this:

I am sure you can figure out what ties all of these together by listening to the video...

What Ties All of This Together?

2010-02-05T12:20:00.001+10:00

Britn is visiting us this week. Today we went to the Children's Museum of Houston. We had never been there before, so I didn't really know what to expect. It was CRAZY, but in a good way. It reminded me of the Port Authority Children's Museum in Baltimore.

There were many things in the place that made Miss Thing go "oooohhhhh". I have no idea what the large orange thing is in the above photo, but she really liked it.

We attempted to go to the Tot Spot, which is an area for children under three years old. Unfortunately, the icky rain made for a crowded museum and the line just wasn't moving. We decided to head down to Kidtropolis because we had seen a grocery store there where Miss Thing could do some shopping.

We shopped and shopped, although only in the produce section. Well, until she needed a baguette...which was over half her size and a tad bit difficult to carry around.

And the strawberries? We had a minor meltdown when we realized that we had to put it back and leave.

Step away from the produce...

We went down a floor after the grocery debacle and found some older kid activities that PM could entertain herself with. One of these was a light/color station with colored shapes and buttons. She had a lot of fun telling us the colors and which were squares, circles and triangles.

The last thing we played with was the widget wall. As you can see above, there are PVC pipe sections that have magnets on them so that you can line them up and drop wooden marbles down, through and into a cup.

It was a lot of fun for her to drop the balls. There may have been an inclination to hoard all of the balls, but eventually we got through that and enjoyed ourselves.

She may also have been obsessed with the "Seat!" on the wall.

This afternoon, after a nap cut short, we went over to Pump It Up for some bouncing and sliding. We had a great time, as can be seen here:

And to answer the question in the title of this post: FUN!

Let's Hope This Does the Trick

2010-02-04T11:31:00.001+10:00

Where does that phrase come from, anyway?

I've been suffering from some ankle issues since I began my exercise classes. I am not the only one.

Unfortunately, this past Saturday caused more than just a little soreness. I didn't do anything specifically to my left foot/ankle/calf, but as soon as the bodyattack class was over it was a-hurtin'.

It has been bothering me ever since; the worst part is that it aches during the night. It must be a ligament/tendon thing because my foot and lower leg begin to ache a whole lot more if I lay on my stomach...which bends my foot forward. Or if I lay such that my foot turns inward at all.

Anyone out there ever had that and know what the problem might be?

Oh, Dear, what can the matter be?

I think it is feeling a tad bit better today; I have skipped classes thus far this week, which makes me feel like a total slacker not to mention icky. I am hoping to at least go to a bodypump class sometime before the week is over.

I went to Academy (sports! and outdoors!) today to look for an ankle brace that ties up. I used to wear one all the time when I played basketball, so I think that it will help me with the attack portion of my workout.

And in case you missed that, I said I wanted an ankle brace that ties up. I found one although I am not sure that it is the correct size. We shall soon find out. I also had to purchase longer socks so that my leg doesn't get rubbed raw.

On another note, my child "Scooooop!"ed her succotash up and into her mouth this evening with a high rate of success. Considering that neither corn nor lima beans are very good at sticking to the spoon, I count this one as a major accomplishment.

She can finally feed herself, people.

It should be awesome.

I Would Have Knots

2010-02-03T11:29:00.014+10:00

This evening, much like every other evening that he is home, Rocket Man and Perpetual Motion played for a bit. The difference this evening?

The laughter.

Oh. My. Goodness.

It almost sounds like she is choking on it.

For your reference, when she points it is in reaction to him pointing at her...and then he stomps over (which makes it sound like the house is COLLAPSING). This game usually has the "He's coming!", "Oh no!" and "Watch out!" quotes interspersed...but apparently this evening she was consumed with the laughing...as you can see.

What in the world does this have to do with "Ties"?

She's clearly in stitches.

Butterfly!

2010-02-02T11:37:00.001+10:00

As I stated in the last post, the theme for February is Ties. I am going to attempt to follow it; though the rules state that you can or not depending on your mood. My first one is a simple one, though very cute!

Miss PM wore a new sweat set this weekend. The pants are pink and the zippered jacket is a darker pink with hearts drawn all over it. She loved pointing out the hearts to me...although she likes to call the darker pink colors red. I suppose that in her world it is closer to red than the light pink that we usually encounter and tell her is pink.

Ah, the shades of gray of the world...I imagine we'll get to the real parenting when we have to address all of those...

Now those will be deep, meaningful posts. The likes of which are rarely if ever found here.

ANY. WAY.

The (light)pink pants had a fake drawstring on the front of it in the form of two pink shoestring-like ties. And I am referring to real shoestrings, like we had as kids, not these new things that are more like ropes. These are flat; therefore they stay tied together.

Unlike those other ties that I am sure someone thinks are more fashionable...or cooler.

Can you tell that I had a P.E. teacher as a parent?

One who worked in an Elementary school and dealt with the kids who knew how to tie, but due to the restrictions and/or very specific physics requirements of those newer shoestrings couldn't get their shoes to STAY TIED FOR THE LOVE OF PETE?!?!?

I may have run into the issue a bit in my days as a music teacher.

In an elementary school.

Where despite our requests and demands (made in a school handbook 'cause that's how we role here) kids showed up on music day in all sorts of inappropriate footwear. Like flip-flops (which I personally think should be banned from Elementary school), heeled sandals (ditto) and the like.

Yeah.

Um, we do this thing called MOVEMENT in our classes. Lots of it. And your "shoes" are hindering us. A LOT.

I guess it bothered me a bit.

HA.

Moving along, nothing to see...

So these fake ties on the front of Miss PM's sweat pants...it was either let them hang loose or tie them. Hanging was not a good idea because she knows
a)what they are: "Striiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnng!"
and b) what to do with them: "Puuuuuuuuuuuullllll!"

That would not have gone over well because they would not have pulled even a tiny bit since they are fake. I chose to tie them. TIE.

She watched me tie the strings in your normal shoe-tying fashion, and when I was done she most certainly declared:

"Bul-ler-lllyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"

Best Quotes

2010-02-01T11:28:00.001+10:00

It is January 31st. I've made it the entire month with a post every day. I am amazed, aren't you all? The theme for the month, as stated on NaBloPoMo, in case you didn't notice, was BEST. I just made them up as I went along. Next month's theme is TIES...and I am not sure how I'll manage that one or if I even want to. I guess we'll see how the mood strikes me. In the meantime, I leave you with the month's best quotes. They are all by Miss Perpetual Motion herself, unless otherwise stated.

"Tickle, tickle tiiiiiiickllllllllle!" In the highest pitch toddler voice imaginable.

"Oh, gross..." Said by Rocket Man tonight upon opening a diaper.

"Okaaaay." Said after asking for something, we repeat to be sure we understood, and she says okay as if we suggested it in the first place.

"He's coming!" "Oh no!" "Watch out!" to instigate play where Daddy 'gets' her...whether he is here or not.

"W, X!" Where W is dubuluuuuuu and X is EXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX! while singing the alphabet song.

"Try it. Mmmm. It's good" while having her Dog-Dog or lamb pretend to eat the food on her plate.

"Five, six, SEVEN" While counting.

"Meooooow; ooo,ooo; tweet, tweet; bawk, bawk; woof, woof; mooooo; ooh, ooh, aah, aah; roar; riiiiibiiiiiit" When reading books about animals, seeing them outside, or on the television...and there are more, like the attempt at an elephant that ends up as her blowing air out of her mouth.

"Onioooooon" Said in the grungiest manner possible.

"Avocadooooooooooo!" Said with eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

"Tequila!" We are in for it.