PractiGal

BLT, anyone?

More on the transitions soon...  Thanks y'all for your comments! See what I'm reading now? (sidebar)

While we may not have a sleeping toddler or job security here at the moment, we do have tomatoes. Lots and lots of tomatoes. The cherry tomatoes have been plentiful and delicious. We're starting to enjoy our beefsteak tomatoes, too.

This morning I decided it was time to harvest the mother of all tomatoes -- the one that threatened to take over western New York. I was concerned that the vine wouldn't be able to support it much longer.

It's quite the impressive thing to hold in your hand. It weighs at least a pound. My bathroom scale isn't the most accurate thing, but the needle definitely moved when I put this beast on it. Here she is next to my hand and a regular size tomato:

Of course I had to measure it, for posterity's sake.

Plus, I'm a geek.

Transitions

Oy. The bedtime trauma continues. Yes, we have a chair next to the bed, and we put him in the bed repeatedly. This process became a near never-ending loop both Saturday and Sunday nights. I do not look forward to the drill tonight. I have 2 sleep books on hold at the library -- unfortunately I may fall asleep before I can get there to pick them up.

It just so happens that the move from crib to bed is happening at the same time as the job searches. Yes, plural. Because there is not just 1 of us in this house conducting a job search right now.

So far, my hubby is the one who's had the most promising interview. (He's the only one who's had interviews, period!) It was promising in that the job would be a wonderful match of talents and needs, and promising in that the hiring manager is very keen on hubby as a candidate. But no promises -- only promising. We'll know more over the next few weeks.

But, despite the lack of promises, we consider what this potential new job would mean. It would mean a move. Not a huge move, but nonetheless a move. Where you box up every book and tool and toy and piece of household, and sell house(s), and buy a different house. And move to a small city where you know no one, and find new doctors and friends and activities and such.

Oy.

I've lived in my locale for 19 years. I like it here very much. I have put down roots, and it is home. The thought of such a big change is sort of freaking me out. I feel connected here, and the thought of leaving and starting over somewhere else is sort of scary to me.  I'm pretty sure that this means I've entered the stage of life known as Old Fartdom.

So I'm realizing that the up-in-the-airness that fills the air here is, of course, the air that the little guy is breathing. It's an air of uncertainty, colored with some anxiety. And so he does not want to say goodnight to Mommy or Daddy at night. Just my motherly theory. But they're in-tune that way, those little dickenses.

After the bedtime showdown, which ended around 9:30 last night (for a 7:30/8 bedtime), hubby and I met up at the kitchen counter, where we self-medicated with a half gallon of ice cream.

And some day I'll look back on this post in the archives and say "oh remember that? Funny how it all worked out."  And that thought is the closest I can come to a crystal ball right now.

Sad news

Not long ago, I shared the story of Alyssa, a local girl battling a rare form of cancer. I just learned that Alyssa passed away on Thursday. Lots of people all over the world, including many of you, sent her cards for Alyssa's recent 6th birthday.

Here's an article from our local newspaper, along with Alyssa's obituary, also from the D&C.

Rest in peace -- sweet, brave Alyssa.

Bruno, Alyssa Rose
Alyssa, 6 years old, passed away surrounded by loved ones on August 24, 2006, after a very brave battle with cancer. Alyssa is survived by her loving parents, Christopher and Lori (Hollister) Bruno; grandparents, John & Myra Bruno of Geneva, Thomas & Diane Hollister of Warsaw, aunts & uncles, Mark & Melissa Bruno of Seneca Falls, James & Kathryn (Bruno) Bogart of Geneva, John Bruno of Florida, Carl Russell of Arcade, Tom & Christine Hollister of Warsaw, John & Dawn Hollister of Hilton & family, Trisha Hollister of Warsaw & family, godparents Tom Fox & JoAnne Buschang, as well as many cousins, extended family and friends, and beloved dogs "Scruffy" and "Annabelle".

Alyssa's infectious smile and zest for life personally touched the hearts of many people. During her courageous fight with cancer, she voiced no complaints but rather served as an inspiration to others on how to live life to the fullest. For her recent six-year-old birthday, Alyssa received well-wishing cards from people around the world whose lives were touched by her valiant fight. Her beauty, strength and laughter will remain in the hearts of many people for years to come.
Chris and Lori wish to express their deepest gratitude to the wonderful staff at Golisano Children's Hospital at Strong, Compassionate Care, Federation of Social Worker's, Lifetime Care and Alyssa's ARMY of friends and family that supported them.

Friends are invited to call Sunday 4-8 P.M.at Miller Funeral Homes, Inc., 3325 Winton Rd. S. Alyssa's Funeral Mass will be held in St. Anne Church, 1600 Mt. Hope Ave., onMonday at 10 A.M.Interment Pine Hill Cemetery, Rush, NY. In lieu of flowers contributions may be made to C.U.R.E. (Childhood Cancer Assn.), 200 Westfall Rd., Rochester, NY 14620.

To leave a message of condolence, please light a candle at:  www.millerfuneralhomes.com

The Bedtime Conundrum

It was all so easy with the crib. Now that the crib is out, it seems that easy is out, too. To make the toddler bed more inviting,  I ordered some bedding that I thought would make it irresistible. What Thomas fanatic could resist, right?  (Note the Donald Trump doll face down on the floor)

Exhibit A

Apparently my Thomas fanatic can resist. Where does he like to sleep? On the futon in his room. I told him I'd lay down on the floor beside the futon while he settled down for his nap; he decided to lay on the floor too. And that is where he napped. On two separate days this week.

Exhibit B

Not shown here is Exhibit C:  Mom & Dad's bed -- also a highly desirable middle-of-the-night sleeping destination for this toddler.

And you can't just put him down and leave him anymore. You have to sit with him or lay down with him til he settles or falls asleep. Otherwise he'll follow you out the door!

I didn't realize how easy we had it til now! Will someone please hurry up and make a giant crib for toddlers who are done with their baby cribs?

The new Momma

Even in intense post-C-section pain, Kristi is still Kristi. I went to the hospital yesterday to visit, and after greeting her and her Grandma, and oggling over the beautiful Isabella, I sat down to chat, and Kristi asked "How was camping?"  The woman has been through major surgery and was resting uncomfortably, waiting for her pain meds to again kick in; why did she even remember that I'd been camping? Because, ummm, who cares about that when there's a beautiful little miracle in the room. But that's Kristi.

Kristi's long-distance friends will appreciate hearing that the new Momma rolls her eyes at the onslaught of pink that has taken over her hospital room. The new Grandma and Great Grandma have already purchased baby dolls for Isabella. All dressed in pink. It seems the anti-pink new Mom will have an uphill battle on that front.

But Isabella is beautiful. I held her. She is so tiny and precious, and just perfect. Her features are so petite and delicate.  Delicate little lips and tongue, which laps at imaginery food. Big eyes. Lots of dark hair. And she has good healthy lungs! The nurse came in to put on Isabella's little hat, and she protested with all her vocal power. At that point, Great Grandma and I agreed that she looked like her Dad's side of the family.

More on the camping trip for PractiGal readers soon. I know you're sitting on pins and needles waiting for the moving conclusion of that story. Get yourself a comfy chair. No more pins and needles for you!

IT'S A GIRL!

Congratulations to Kristi and Rich!

I'm so excited to announce the arrival of 
Isabella Carmelina,
the Baby Formerly Known as "Beastie!"

Isabella was born this morning, and weighed in at 6 lbs, 10 oz, and is 21" (?) long. They're doing well, and Mom is already nursing her daughter.

Hooray!! and welcome to Baby Isabella!

Check in with Auntie Karrie for pictures and updates!  Thanks to Jenny for the phonecall!

( I'll confirm the ? when I can! )

Camp Fiasco

Ahhh... camping. The great outdoors. Getting away from it all.  Enjoying natural surroundings. Peace and quiet. Experiencing life as it was in simpler times.  Star-gazing. Toasting marshmallows over an open fire.  Enjoying conversation with loved ones.

Or not.

Granted, some would not call us "campers," as we don't wear our gear on our backs and hike into the woods where we set up camp and dig holes in the ground in lieu of the loo. But if I've learned anything this weekend, it's that nowadays "camping" means something different to everyone.

Take, for instance, the cabin dwellers.  You back up your vehicle to a cute mini house and bring your own bedding for the cabin beds. With a rustic roof over your head and no running water in-house, you're camping, right? And who needs to cook when there's pizza delivery. That's right. They'll deliver right to your cabin. No fuss, no muss. Just bring your own cooler of beer.

And then there are the RVers. Electric and water hookups ensure the comforts of home. Oh, wait --  scratch that. You need cable tv, too. Yes. And automatic jacks so that you don't have to get your hands dirty while you're setting up "camp."

We went to a small family-owned campground for our first camping expedition as a family of three.  We found the place by Googling around -- Sometimes you luck out when you choose your vacation spot by spinning the Internet wheel of fortune; sometimes not.

We were surprised when we pulled in to the campground and could see the campsites from the road. That's generally not a good sign. And to call the "sites" postage-stamp-sized would be generous. It was obvious that we'd barely have elbow room at this place. We swallowed hard as we set on our way to find our reserved site. #35. Right between #34 and #36. Wait a second -- I blinked --  that can't be all there is to it. Why, if anyone moves in behind us or next to us, we won't be able to breathe.

But that was it. We laughed. Well, at least we were right across from the playground. An instant hit with the little guy.

I kept busy chasing the tot around while hubby began digging out our gear. What? No ground cover for the tent? Oh well. Our tent goes up easily enough,  and it's a 9x9 beauty -- a regular palace to backpack campers, I'm sure. So we'd have to clean the bottom of the tent later. No biggie.

We're car-campers. We pile as much stuff into the crevices of our station wagon as we can. All but the ground cover and the hatchet -- which is used to pound the stakes into the ground. Though this isn't a problem when you haven't brought any stakes either. You know, those little things you attach to the corners of the tent & the ground to prevent your aerodynamically designed portable  home from flying away in a little puff of breeze?

So we anchored the tent with our gear -- a cooler, bags, etc. Not a long-term solution, but it would be good enough til we figured out a plan.

We noticed other things while setting up camp. Not only were the minuscule camp sites packed tightly together, but there were clearly a good number of seasonal campers on the grounds. Their permanent astro-turfed porches gave them away. As did their decorating efforts - tiny white fences and plastic flowers hiding the otherwise unsightly cable boxes. It seemed an odd place to go for a regular get-away, unless your regular home is a sardine can, but hey, it's a free country.

Something else that struck us: The Noise. The campground was rather close to a major highway. We didn't realize just how close it was to the interstate before we booked our site. Oh well, we figured it'd quiet down at night.

My husband anchored our tent with some straps and bungees found in the car, securing them with the picnic table and various other heavy objects, including our spare tire. Thank goodness I married a resourceful man.

With the tent stabilized, we changed into our swimsuits and headed off for a dip in the pool. The trip to the pool ended up being the highlight of our camping trip. The water in the "heated" pool was invigorating, and felt just right on this hot, humid summer day. It wasn't crowded, and the other campers were very friendly, as campers tend to be. Our little guy had a blast floating and kicking with his life vest. Eventually we had to drag him to land, blue lips and all. Meanies that we are. As we dried off, we noticed that the elderly woman who was doing water exercises with a pool noodle had brought along her own entertainment: some sort of book-on-tape, which she listened to on her boom-box. Apparently the woman was oblivious to the fact (or just didn't care) that there were others (including a toddler) using the pool, because anyone in the vicinity of the pool could hear the discussion of all things sexually explicit coming from her boom-box.

It was time to explore the rest of the campground anyway...

And I'll be writing more about it this week. Check back later for the dramatic conclusion -- where you'll hear about our peaceful campfire (not!), the "sleeping" arrangements -- I use the term loosely since it implies actual shut-eye; a photo shoot (??) ; a change in the weather; and finally, getting the flock out of Dodge.

*** More importantly, on Tuesday we'll welcome my friend Kristi's readers here from Interrupted Wanderlust,  for the announcement of the arrival of "Beastie!"  Kristi's baby will be born tomorrow morning, August 22nd. Will it be a boy named Rocco, Noah, or Brady? A girl named Ella or Isabella? Will he or she have lots of hair? We'll find out Tuesday morning! STAY TUNED! ***

 

Going postal

With a title like that, you're apt to think that this is where I reveal my deep dark raving lunatic side.

But no.

Let's save that for another day.

I figure it's time for me to reveal my affinity for all things postal.

Before I go any further, I should say that I'm generally very good at avoiding impulse purchases. Except for the occasional piece of chocolate at the check-out, I can usually walk by those last-minute displays aimed at luring the green out of the wallet --the magnetic strip off the debit card -- while waiting in line at the cash register. I don't need to buy the last-minute trashy novel, set of knit sheets, circus peanuts, or a new box of 64 crayons. I stand firm and stick with my purchases.

However, this practical, logical tendency goes sailing out the window when I step into The US Post Office. Maybe there are subliminal messages floating out the air-conditioning vents, though I don't think so; I'm the only one I ever see going postal for their merchandise.

First, there are the plush animals.  I've bought them for my niece, nephew, and son. I mean, who can resist?

And of course, there are stamps commemorating every historical event, holiday, and
special event known to man-kind.  I wish I hadn't gone to the web site, where I found these stamps that I now MUST HAVE!

Don't even get me started on the totebags. Not that I need another totebag; I probably have about 20 totes in various shapes, colors, and sizes. Though I'm of the school of thought that one can never have too many totebags. I've never actually bought a postal tote, nor do I need one. But I've admired them many many times. Practical. Durable. Beautiful.

My latest postal purchase is probably my favorite one yet. It was the last one in-stock at my local post office, and I see it's on back-order on the postal store web site. Obviously this is a hot one for postal merchandise fans like myself. I haven't given this truck to my son yet; I think it will be broken in short order, and I need a chance to admire it on my own first. The side doors actually slide open, and the back door lifts up. How cool is that?

Hmm. Do you suppose they'd hire me as a telecommuter? I see a job that I could do. They must give their employees a discount on all the fine merchandise, right? To prevent them from going postal..

Listfull

Today, I present a random list, as I don't think I can build even one coherent paragraph at the moment.

• Sucrets Complete are my friend. They really work for middle-of-the-night coughing attacks.
• I'm pretty sure the tomato is even bigger now. Must take another photo. My neighbor thinks I should take it to the State Fair.  She kids!
• We are done with the crib here. Yes, he's almost 2 1/2, so it's no big surprise. But it changes things. The bedtime routine was so easy before, and now, well... We need to come up with a new routine that results in the little boy remaining in bed.
• I've been scouring the net for legitimate work from home opportunities since my current very legitimate at-home job will be going 'poof' this fall.  Even when you Google "legitimate work from home" you don't know that what you're hitting is truly legit. I have about a bazillion sites bookmarked to go back to and review. Overwhelming.
• My resume is posted on job sites, too.  I'm getting even more bizarro spam than I did before posting the resume.
• If Melody ever visits the US, we must have a big s'more party! See how I am? Just assuming that everyone knows that s'mores = camping?  Not thinking of my Aussie friend!
• This is the time of year when I forget my brother-in-law's birthday. Every year for 6 years. It's an odd tradition.  I have a mental block. This year I'm 90% sure it's 8/23, remembering my sister's tip that the date is a prime number.  The 23rd is someone else's birthday, too!
• Blogging to the Curious George soundtrack is actually quite pleasant.
• There is something about the bulleted list that is very satisfying to me. Maybe it's that it looks so orderly and predictable --  even when life doesn't feel that way.
• It's time for another Sucret!

Camp Someothertime

The sleeping bags had been aired, camping treats purchased, sand toys gathered. The air mattress pump was even tested. The entire car was, in fact, fully packed with all but the people.

While putting the finishing touches on the cooler contents, I winced and announced: "I think we need to reschedule this camping trip."

"Oh, he'll be fine," my chipper hubby responded. He was really looking forward to getting away. "He should be just about finished with the [abnormally frequent intestinal evacuations with more or less fluid stools*], don't you think? We'll put some cream on him and he'll sleep the whole way there."  This after the intense wrestling matches for clean-ups and fresh diapering had become the ritual du jour. And oh, the tender red bottom. Poor little guy!

I sat down to eat some lunch and pondered the situation, which began Friday evening. And continued Saturday morning, so that we missed the little guy's swimming class. While I sat eating and thinking, the boy curled up on my lap at the kitchen table . When his head became heavy on my shoulder, I had a feeling he was nodding off.

"Are you asleep, honey?"

"No."

Seconds later he was in a deep sleep.

I set him down on the couch and covered his little diapered-only body with 2 blankets. And there he slept... and slept... and slept.

Til he awoke four hours later.

And the camping trip was off. Or at least postponed. Til another weekend when the weather will no doubt be less than picture-perfect as this one was. Sigh.

So I guess there's some kind of stomach bug going around. And a summertime cold too, which everyone in our house has now. At least it's most likely not West Nile Virus, as was my initial thought.

The fluid-ish evacuations continue today, though with a greatly decreased frequency. Thank goodness. I will, though, give the pediatrician's office a casual no-I'm-not-one-of-those-mothers phonecalls. Just to reassure myself.

We grown-ups had really been looking forward to our little get-away. At least we had the marshmallows and chocolate with which to console ourselves.

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*Thanks to a great book for offering the alternative, albeit wordy, description of the ailment.

And a special shout-out to Jen H at Iowa Geek for offering a recipe for The World's Greatest Homemade Diaper Cream Ever last year. If you missed it, here it is. We are now fans of this butt cream!

First, clean him up with clear water and a soft washcloth only. Air dry or pat dry with a clean towel. Wipes will only irritate his bottom more.

Mix one small tube A&D ointment (not the white cream, the gold stuff) and one small tube of bacitracin ointment in a disposable plastic container. The A&D will help keep moisture out and the bacitracin helps fight infection if there's any bleeding or sores. My pediatrician's nurse gave this 'recipe' to me, and it worked like a dream. Hope it helps!!!