beanski

give the geek a chance.

I have a confession. I work with computers for a living and they pay me a hefty salary to do so.

The funny thing is: I know nothing about them.

I know a good deal about writing software and building webpages and architecting solutions to be reusable, maintainable and generally totally awesome {SNORE}.

I don't know shit about hardware.

So when we moved and I hooked up my computer and realized that it wasn't the USB hub or the computer or the power supply that was making it so that my external hard-drive wasn't recognized by the computer, I wept. I thought about Cameron's first months of life and how I had nothing to show for them. There were exactly TWO MONTHS that I didn't have backed up and they just happened to be the first two months of my baby's life.

I kicked myself about three thousand times in the head because I KNOW BETTER. I WORK WITH COMPUTERS FOR A LIVING. I KNOW THEY FAIL.

It sat on my desk for a few weeks mocking me. I was totally scared to have someone look at it and tell me that it was going to cost thousands of dollars because I WAS WILLING TO PAY FOR IT. That's the crazy part. He's my son and I DIDN'T HAVE A PICTURE OF HIS FIRST WEEK OF LIFE.

In an act of desparation I took it to the Geek Squad. And when I met my nine foot tall geek, I was smitten. He offered to bust it open to check the USB adapter because sometimes they go bad. He told me how this NEVER happens and that most of the time people end up paying to have their data recovered in an air tight room. Then he told me about the average cost being in the seven hundred dollar range. I gazed into his eyes and held tight to my faith in my geek. Then he went over and started HAMMERING on my hard-drive, got it open and plugged it in. AND HE COULD SEE THE FILES.

Then I kissed his feet (I couldn't reach his lips he was NINE FEET TALL, remember?) and promised to have his babies.

After that I went home and backed up every fricking file under the sun TWICE on my brand, new, sparkling DUAL 1 TERABYTE drives. Overly cautious? Perhaps, but I learned a lesson. A very valuable lesson.

Give The Geek A Chance.

not exactly what i had in mind

When I found out I was pregnant the first time I focused my daydreams on newborn smiles and adorable little pink pajamas and that smell of fresh Pampers. I knew that my baby, my experience, would be perfect. I planned on being the mom that didn't let a little infant cramp her style, figured I have friends and career and a house in the suburbs. 

I didn't exactly envision a baby screaming for hours on end every.single.day. I didn't see the sleepless nights or the pre-term labor or the stress involved with picking out piece after piece of baby paraphernalia in a age where paranoia runs rampant. I didn't understand the importance of a schedule or how fucking bad it sucks to be the mom on the days when you have no other choice than to throw it.

When I decided that nursing was the only thing for me I didn't plan on being the only person with the ability to soothe her. Or on my nipples bleeding every day for five consecutive months. 

I didn't plan on teething and fevers and colds and days and days and DAYS of poopy diaper after pooping fricking diaper.

I didn't plan on never seeing my friends, of really not having any friends. I didn't imagine my career would cease to matter to me all together.

When I found out I was pregnant for the second time I couldn't wait to tell my daughter about her sibling. I saw friendship and bubbles and them racing around the house in hysterics. I couldn't imagine giving her any greater gift than giving her a brother.

What I didn't see this time was the fact that she would want nothing to do with him. I didn't envision him crawling over to her with a look of absolute joy on his face only to have her throw her hand up his face, scream a pissed off scream and shout "I don't like Cammon. Go away Cammon." Or worse yet, I never once planned on her kicking him in the head five times a day.

But here we are, my daydreams, my Johnson and Johnson baby commercial dreams shattered by reality.

Today I have had to tell myself a thousand times that there are so many other good things that I didn't see coming. Things I couldn't plan for until I saw the babies that I carried around in my womb for nine months. It's how hard they can make you laugh over the dumbest stuff. How far your heart can grow from watching them learn a new thing. How amazing it is when they start remembering things, experiences, or when they'll FINALLY sit on your lap long enough to read a book.

I didn't understand the pride when I made my plans. But that pride is what keeps me going, what gets me through days like this.

Today was hard. Today I spent a lot of the day feeling sad for my daughter who doesn't want her brother around. I felt a LOT of sadness for my son who wants nothing more than to be the apple of his sister's eye. I felt helpless, like it doesn't matter how much I want her to love him, or how bad I want him to understand why she's behaving the way she's behaving, that I have no control.

Then I really started to think about it. I haven't had control in a very long time.

And today I'm OK with that.

nine months

It only took nine months (seriously NINE months, WTF?) for Cameron to figure out that his crib is an alright place to chill at night by himself. I know that I'm going to pay dearly for broadcasting this to the Internet but my son? He's "sleeping through the night." FINALLY. My definition of "sleeping through the night" involves him going to bed around 7:30PM and awakening somewhere beteween 3AM and 5AM to chug a bottle before going back to sleep. But when the old version of "sleeping through the night" involved me getting up every two hours to Pick Up, Put Down or rub his back or feed him, I'm totally willing to jump on this small development as the best thing that ever happened to me. I feel like a HUMAN. I even smile once in a while, IF YOU CAN BELIEVE THAT.
 
He switched entirely to formula this month and there is a part of me that can't help but STILL wonder if it was something that I was eating that was giving him a sick belly and keeping him awake at night. He's been a much happier baby since. But then I think about how he started eating more solid foods this month too and about how we moved and his new room is darker and cooler and then I drive myself crazy wondering what really helped him to figure it out. The is the WORST part about babies. You NEVER EVER know if it was the formula or the solids or the temperature or the pure simplicity of time passing by that made things better.

Speaking of solid foods, he eats like a linebacker. He employs the Scoop and Shove method to eating, grabbing as much in his chubby little hands as is humanly possible and then trying to stuff it all in his mouth at once. Such a BOY. I keep trying to tell him that he's making a huge mess and wasting most of his food by plastering it to his bib but he doesn't care. Renee would carefully pick up each piece of food and put it in her mouth so this is quite a change in style. I have to make sure his food is cut up in to small enough pieces that he can swallow without having to chew. I can just see him when he's fifteen, sitting down at the dining room to take down an entire box of cereal in about three minutes flat.

He loves wires, straps or anything that looks like a string. He busts his little booty as fast as he can over to the wires when I leave the room. When I say "HEY Cameron, what are you doing?" he loooks up and giggles, recognizing his name and knowing that he isn't supposed to be doing what he's doing.

He can walk between the ottomans in the living room and pushes his little push toy around all day every day. He's even mastered the stairs. HOLD ME. He's going to be chasing after his sister on foot instead of on knee very soon here before we know it. Which, WHOA, WHAT? Wasn't he JUST BORN?

Speaking of his sister, he WORSHIPS her. He smiles this huge two teeth grin every single time he so much as catches of a glimpse of her. If she's playing with the train set, he wants to play with the train set. If she's eating blueberries, he wants blueberries RIGHT NOW. He follows her around already mimicking her, smiling at her, learning all of her dirty rotten tricks. I'm thinking it's going to be at least twenty years before she sees the benefits of having him around so he'll get lots of practice in the meantime with being bossed around by girls that don't want him around.

He's a busy boy, refusing to sit still for any reason other than to eat a bottle. He's not a cuddler at all, he slams his bottle and then starts groaning and whining for me to put him in his bed already. He hates books but loves to play Patty Cake. He still has the greatest laugh in the history of great laughs, giggling from the bottom of his soul at the smallest of things.
 

I just can't believe how big he's gotten and I can not fathom how quiet and relaxing life was before he came into our lives. I can't believe how much I can love a little chubby baby and I can't believe that I was part of creating such an adorable little creature. Most of all I can't believe how lucky I am that I get to call him my son.

the perfect jean

I'm not an overly fashionable person. I mean, I LIKE fashion. I like to think if TLC showed up at my door, I could totally rock it shopping with Stacy and Clinton. But, I have a hard time shelling out the big bucks on clothes for myself. I've been known to drop insane amounts of money on clothes for my kids (please don't mention any of this to my Money Manager because I will totally deny it). But I don't do it for myself.

When it comes to getting dressed in the morning, I go for Old Navy jeans, schumpy t-shirts and Target flats almost every day. I KNOW that I SHOULD put on accessories and wear a real shirt but I just don't care. I don't make time to iron. I throw everything in the washer and then the dryer without a second thought.

The other day I came in to work to find a bonus sitting at my desk. It isn't the first time it has happened but I guess I figured I didn't deserve much of a bonus since I've been pregnant/nursing/on maternity leave for like the last three years. I apparently have them totally fooled which: AWESOME.

I thought about buying a new camera body because honestly free money doesn't happen very often and I could easily cash and spend the check without my Money Manager getting his little mitts on my prize. But, I'm just not sure I've outgrown my Rebel. And, would I just buy the new Rebel and would it even be any better? Or a more advanced camera? Do I need an advanced camera to take mediocre shots of my kids? I just don't know.

I remember a post that someone posted a while back, could have sworn it was FatJ but she has assured me over email that it wasn't her, where the blogger was looking for advice on a nice pair of jeans. You know, an investment pair of jeans. Jeans that I can wear to Bunco and not feel like a fat schlumpy cow with saggy jeans that have too much stretch in them that they don't hold their shape. I can't find the post now so I'm asking you.

1. Where does one go to buy nice jeans?
2. Do I really have to hang them up to dry or are there magic jeans somewhere that I can put in the dryer that won't fade/shrink?
3. Are nice jeans really THAT much better? I mean we're talking about like five or six TIMES as much.
4. Do they really make nice jeans for short, fat kids? Because I'm 5'2".

the poor man's family photo

I REALLY want to get some new family pictures taken. My Money Manager claims that we don't have the money and that I can take them myself.
 
How did I do?

At least I got ice cream out of the deal.

twenty-five months

This post is better late than never, I think. At least that's what I tell myself. I wouldn't want to miss this month because it's been full of big changes. In addition to turning 2, Renee spent three entire days in the care of someone besides her dad and I and she lived to tell the tale. She repaid me by insisting that I never leave her side again though, not even Daddy is good enough for her now. She used to inform us that "It was Daddy's turn last night so it's Mommy's turn tonight" when we asked her who she wants to read her books before bed, keeping tally to make sure her time with us was evenly split. Since we moved she has refused to let him put her to bed and last night when I was laying next to her reading books she said, "I love you, Mommy. I missed you SO MUCH." And then my heart split in two and I died. But I died happy.
 
She also got a new house and a new bedroom and a new backyard. You would think this would scare her but it didn't. Once she realized that her throne (the chair that she sits in when she watching Dora in the living room) and her crib were there, she was totally fine. When she went into the new bedroom and I asked her whose room it was, she smiled sweetly and said "Me's," recognizing her crib and bedding and stuff on the walls.  
 
That was pretty much it until she realized that our new neighborhood doesn't have a playground. We had gotten into the habit of going to the playground every night after dinner and last night she was all like, "Finish eating people and LET'S GO." I felt pretty bad. On my current TODO list: Find a pimp playground nearby. STAT.
 
She travels with an entourage, insisting that I carry her as well as fifteen stuffed animals up and down the stairs every day. AND her blankies (TWO of them) AND her pillow. Seriously, she insists on having all of this stuff crammed onto her throne with her. She is partial to Mr. Doggie, Mr. Tiger and Elmo though and refuses to leave home without them. She can thank her dad for the (not-so-creative) names. I tried to get her to name the stuffed tiger "Fred" and she looked at me like I had lost my ever-loving mind and said, "That's Mr. Tiger, Mommy." DUH.
 
She loves to build houses with blocks, loves legos and likes to read. The "Just ONE more book, Mommy" game goes on for HOURS sometimes before bed. She laughs like she knows she's pulling a fast one on me every time I give in. Going down the slides at the playground is still her favorite past-time and she still HATES the swing.  
She narrates our shopping trips. When we are driving by Target she says "Ahhh, there's Taaaget" and "Let's go drive the car cart at the grocery store" when we drive by Cub. She also requests a muffin the minute we enter the grocery store. The muffin is actually a donut hole. It took me a few days to figure out what in the heck she was talking about. She had a donut hole at daycare (called a muffin) and then saw them at the grocery store and started asking for them. Gotta love it. She also knew just what an Oreo was and the other day saw a popsicle on a t-shirt and said "MMMM Popsicles." It's no wonder she doesn't eat at home, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to compete with popsicles, Oreos and donut holes.
 
I love it how she closes her eyes and pretends like she's sleeping when I got in to get her out of bed in the morning. She rolls over and says "I'm still sleeping" with this adorable little smirk on her face.
 
Her brother annoys her, which makes me sad. He is ENAMORED with her and she just totally blows him off like she's too cool for him. She screeches these high pitched screams when he crawls over to see what she is playing with and just last week she clocked him on the head so hard with a toy that he had an instant bruise. She ended up in Extended Time Out that day. Extended Time Out is code for HOLY CRAP, Mama is pissed off and you better get out of my sight before I LOSE IT. I've never seen her be aggressive like that and I had NO IDEA what to do. She doesn't like Time Outs and will cry when we put her in one so they seem to be working.
 
She got a new pet fish for her new house and she loves to feed him and watch him eat. The first thing she says to me in the morning is "Mr. Fish slept in my room last night, let's feed him." She giggles uncontrollably every time the fish gobbles up one of those little pellets.

She's a good kid, about as sweet as they come. She likes to make us happy, thriving on our praise and you can just tell that she dwells on it when she gets in trouble. When she smiles and giggles the whole world is a better place and when she's crabby, watch the frick out.  

a new home, a new life

Holy crap, DEEP BREATH. It's the first deep breath I've taken in weeks.  

I'd love to post a picture of our new house but I didn't take any. Which, just so you know, will annoy the crap out of me like forever. I wanted to do before and after pictures but you know, it just didn't happen. I also wanted to clean the bathrooms before I gave my kids a bath and that didn't happen either.

Let's say it all together now: EWWWWWW.

I'd also love to post pictures of the home we left behind but the computer isn't even set up yet. And I can't remember if I even took any because I can hardly remember my name.

Also: Where is my camera? I haven't seen that thing in days.

We do finally have the washer and dryer working now so there's that. And I even had a clean towel to use to shower with this morning so we are definitely moving up in the world.

It was a crazy weekend but thanks to our parents and sisters, we did it. My mom and dad worked like slaves for DAYS and I'm not sure I will ever get over the guilt of watching my daddy hauling load after load after LOAD of our stuff from one house to the other. I thought moving would be easy because we hired movers. I was SO TOTALLY WRONG. My mom cleaned both houses, my mom and sister Jen packed everything and my mom and sister Annie unpacked everything. Ski's parents had the kids. Honestly, moving sucks and we would have been in BIG TROUBLE without all of their help.

Renee stepped right in to her new life like it was no big thing, demanding Dora and wanting to feed her new pet (a beta fish) every fifteen seconds. She is tickled that the fish is sleeping in her new room. She didn't miss a beat really until last night when we went for a walk in the stroller and she was all kinds of pissed off that there is no playground two blocks up the road. She kept saying "I don't see it Mommy, I can't find the playground anywhere."

He Who Doesn't Sleep had a good night followed by a TERRIBLE one so it's pretty safe to say that he wasn't really affected by it either.

I didn't get to say goodbye to my old house in the chaos but I can say that I haven't missed it yet. It is so wonderful to have so much extra space. I actually have cupboards that don't have anything in them! Can you imagine the awesomeness? I think we'll love it once I get it de-beiged because the lady that we bought it from replaced all of the carpet and had the ENTIRE HOUSE painted beige. The Beige just isn't us so we will be embarking on Operation De-Beige in the very near future. Like, as soon as I have the strength in my body to hold a paint brush.

There is enough work to do to keep us busy and we'll make it ours but most of it is cosmetic and can wait until we have time

Translation: It can wait until our children are old enough to not be so damned NEEDY. Which, at this rate, may happen in about the year 2020.

I hope.