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Have you seen THESE??!!

HAVE you seen these?

Go buy these now.

My friend Judi listened to me whining yesterday about washing the teeny tiny pump parts 8 times a day and she drove 45 minutes to a baby store and bought these for me.

You rinse the pump parts and bottle nipples, throw them in this bag with water and microwave them for 3 minutes and they’re sterile. No washing or boiling. They’re made by Medela and I am in love with them.

5 bucks for 5 bags that can each be used up to 20 times.

Judi – You, ma’am, are a scholar and a gentlewoman. Also a genius and a lifesaver.

Thanks, man!

01.31.06 Valentine’s Day – Romantic Surprises

01.24.06 What’s For Lunch?

01.17.06 Eating out With Kids

01.10.06 To the Happy Couple

01.03.06 Name My Van – A Tip Day Contest!

Why did no one tell me this 3 years ago?

At age 4 months, Laylee suddenly quit taking a bottle. Period. End of story.

Magoo at age 3 months. Same story. In fact, I wrote about this cold-turkey experience in my second blog post.

I love nursing but it is so frustrating to feel like you can never go anywhere for more than 2 hours because your child is completely dependant on your appendages for their nourishment.

Now Magoo has 4 small, sharp, pointy, jagged, fangoreous, razor-sharp, pincer-grasping (did I mention sharp?) teeth. He’s chewing the heck out of me right now and I’m in a ton of pain. It hurts way worse now than when I started nursing him.

I wanted to go a full year, but yesterday I was right on the edge of giving it up. The problem, folks, is that he will not take liquid by any other means, besides my tattered and extremely painful breasts. I felt that if I “weaned him,” he would shrivel up like a raisin and die.

All of a sudden I got this thought, “Hey, maybe he doesn’t like the bottle because the letdown from the breast is so much faster. Maybe I could punch a bigger hole in the nipple.” So I did. He drank it. I’ve been pumping and bottle-feeding since yesterday afternoon with great success and I’m starting to heal.

Maybe I’m the only dumb kid on this slow bus, but it didn’t occur to me until yesterday that they sell nipples with different flow rates for an actual reason and that my kids might be “out-growing” their flow level.

So I thought I’d make a public service announcement.

When the lactation consultant says, “Have you tried all the different bottles and nipples?” she also means, “Have you tried all the different flow rates of each individual nipple? Do this and you may be able to get out once every few months or so.”

Happy getting ready for Valentine’s Day! You are, aren’t you? Getting ready?

I can see all of you now, individually wrapping each of your beloved’s toothpicks and socks in heart-print paper, spraying perfume on be-jeweled handkerchiefs so he can carry your sent with him always, melting down hundreds of Dove bars to make a perfect chocolate likeness of your most treasured loved one. Yeah, me too.

But this year, I want to go beyond the basics. What are some great ways to surprise that special someone for Valentine’s Day?

I’m talking good surprises, surprises that bring tears of joy and belovedness, surprises that cost very little money and can be prepared in…um….14 days or less, surprises that please and delight, surprises that can be talked about on a G-rated weblog where I don’t really care about the most private details of your intimate relationship and will delete you if you decide you MUST share?

I will give you a couple of examples.

1. Last year for Valentine’s Day I made Dan a “Book of Love”. It contained all of the pictures we’ve had taken of the two of us (wedding not included) and cards listing the things I love most about him. It cost a total of about $20 and maybe 10 hours of work (I told you I’m not a great scrap-booker) but he LOVED it and now it’s a family treasure we will keep adding to. I was actually surprised how few pictures we have of just the two of us. It seems we’re mostly taking pictures of each other or the kids.

2. Dan THINKS about me. When he finds ways to let me know he’s thinking about me, it drives me wild. These include things like shining my shoes without being asked because he knew they were scuffed, making the bed while I’m in the shower, taking me out on surprise dates, buying me a fairly expensive but awesome book on HTML programming just because he knows I want to learn, giving me his Palm today because mine has died and my life would spiral out of control into an endless abyss of disorganization without it. Good surprises, all.

I can’t do the “Book of Love” again this year. It just wouldn’t have the same je ne sais quoi. I need ideas, stat. What are you gonna do for the shmoop? What have you done in the past that’s been a smashing success?

As an added bonus, if you would like the shmoop to do something specific for you, send me your requests and I will provide a service this year where I send anonymous cupid-email to him/her, strongly “hinting” at what you would like done.




Important Bulletin – Please visit Beth’s site today. She has a new game and I believe she mentioned something about free advertising as an incentive for the winner.

So says Magoo.

Not in so many words.

He hinted at it by gasping and squealing loudly every time we opened the green book of joy throughout church today.

Close the book. Silence. Open the book. Shaking, flailing, laughing and gasping for breath. He then proceeded to zerb the book……repeatedly.

If the people in front of us weren’t feeling the Holy Spirit, at least they were feelin’ something. It was my son’s spit. Sorry.

We are pretty much always late for church, but lately we’ve had this goal to go to bed early and get up early, even on weekends, so our body clocks will become more regular. I’m not exactly sure where they’re kept but after 10pm, my stomach starts to tick if I don’t eat some ice cream or nachos, so…….

This morning we got up at 7 and church doesn’t start until 11:30. (Okay! Dan got up at seven and I pretended to cuddle him the way my second dead fish is currently cuddling the plant at the bottom of his bowl. I curled limply around his arm and fell back asleep for 20 minutes.)

That’s 4 hours to get ready, people, and even with the de-mulletization I feel is necessary on the Sabbath, that still leaves at least 30 minutes to get the rest of the family decked out. We were SO going to be on time this morning.

My fatal flaw is this – I always forget to allow extra time for the weird last minute things that come up, right as it’s time to get in the car. This morning they included:

-I had to reassemble Laylee’s car seat from the laundry, due to a big-girl sized accident she had in it last night
-I have a second child
-I’m supposed to wear clothes to church. A slip and knee-highs (yes I said knee-highs) just don’t fit the “dress code.”

With things like this coming up at the last minute, I don’t know how I’m expected to be on time, especially since DYD was driving and let’s just say that HIS special powers are of no use to us when it comes to getting somewhere in a hurry.

For our secret plan today, we decided we HAD TO LEAVE by 11:00, even though it only takes 10 minutes to get there. So when we left at 11:17, fully car-seated, dressed, and dos-childed, we arrived on time, even though we left “late”. Ha HA!

I had second thoughts today about giving out my web address to people I know in real life when I walked in and was greeted with, “Hey. Nice Mullet!” (that is, assuming the person who said that reads my blog and didn’t just see my hair and think it looked like a mullet….)

Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.

Somehow it came up in conversation the other day that Dan can eat more Whoppers than any of his fellow GEEKS (Genius Extraordinary Engineering Kick-butt Superstars) at MegaCorp.

This became the topic of much conversation and it was decided that if he were an X-Man, that would be his special power.

It’s raining malted milk balls in your town. Men, women and children are running for their lives. Who do you call? Why, Daring Young Dad, of course.

I too have a special power which I have mentioned previously on this weblog. Call it a gift, a talent, or a freakish genetic mutation. Lately I have an absolutely uncanny ability to get the best possible parking spot at all times.

Today at Tar-zhay:

Hate me, if you will. I only intend to use these powers for good, striving for a world where humans and brilliant-mutant-parking-spot-goddesses can peacefully co-exist.

I have decided that from now on, parking spots will be the theme of this blog.

Some girlfriends and I took our kids out to a slightly too fancy restaurant for lunch. It was a restaurant where, if you’re lucky, a large sea lion will squash your car while you eat.

Picture a classy restaurant overlooking the Puget Sound, full of business women and men and one table that had been accidentally transported in from Chuck-E-Cheese.

3 moms, six kids aged 3 and under, a combined bill of over $70. The kids were boiling over onto the other tables, asking why they couldn’t have sippy cups and why the napkins weren’t made of paper. Crackers and grapes were strewn everywhere and they just wanted to get out and touch the water. I think everyone in the restaurant wanted to grant them that wish.

After the meal, we took a short drive and a little walk out onto the cement boardwalk. One friend had spent a dollar on a bag of bread so we could feed the seagulls. Not only was this the highlight of our day, but possibly the highlight of Laylee’s life (she has a very short memory).

The greatest things in life truly are free, or at least cost less than $70.

They gather.

Out comes the bread.

Hold on to your hats and let the good times begin.

Mine…mine….mine. Those Nemo filmmakers really did their seagull research. Holy crazy-attack-birds batman!

Laylee seems unfazed, an angel with wings.

Jumping for joy.

Birds, shmirds. Dude, where’s my nap?

10 points if you can see the Space Needle. Go Seahawks!

She feeds them in a strange bowling motion…

…..then laughs uncontrollably.

And the kick is GOOD!

All gone bread. It’s okay. The seagulls are about to explode and we really don’t want to witness that….

…so let’s turn our attention to the….. monolith. This is apparently the birthplace of Seattle. From what I hear, it was a messy experience, no epidural, and no indoor plumbing.

Real estate along the water is sold at a premium. Several brand new condo and apartment complexes rise into the sky. Amazingly, in between them are sprinkled smallish houses, some much more rundown and tinier than this one. I wonder who held out to keep their property when I’m sure the offers ran in the hundreds of thousands, if not millions.

If this were my grandma’s house, would I keep it for the memories after her passing or sell it to the highest bidder? I’m really not sure.

Things I’ve Learned Today:

1. When the sun is shining in The Seattle – in winter – after it’s been raining for 30 days, you’d better run outside and enjoy it.
It ain’t gonna last.

2. I was born to achieve grocery store parking spot super-stardom.
It is my DEN-SITY.

3. I believe in euthanasia for fish…..if Karli performs it.
Karli was over today when I noticed the mamma guppie all a-float. Her lifeless body was freaking me out so I asked Karli to flush it. She performed a tasteful funeral followed by the flushing.

I then surprised myself by begging her to flush the other one too. He’s still alive but he just lost his true love, who was probably bearing his love-children, he hasn’t eaten in days and I don’t want to watch him suffer. (Besides, what if he dies when Karli isn’t over? I am not strong enough to flush another one. I’m definitely not strong enough to save the corpse and take it in for a rebate. That is just too sick.)

Hennison will be sorely missed. Please keep Jack in your prayers. Karli refused to grant his pathetic plea for help.

4. It is patently hilarious when I hold my laptop over my head, whilst screaming like a girl, to keep fat-boy Magoo from smashing it to pieces.

5. If the power lines are on fire, call 9-1-1.
My first instinct was to call Dan and ask him who to call. His first instinct was to say, “Hang up now and dial 9-1-1.” Their first instinct was to say that I had made the right decision, especially considering the power lines were running through a forest… next to a residential neighborhood.

6. Snow White’s princess powers and identity crumble when the gown is in the wash.
My mom called today and said, “Hello Snow White.”

Laylee hung her head and admitted sadly, “No. I’m just a girl.” She was wearing a super-lame t-shirt and pants ensemble at the time. Preschoolers everywhere, ring out your derision.

By meal-time the Snow was back on and she remembered to thank the Giver of all good gifts in her dinner prayer:

Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank you for our chili beans and table and paper towels and books and Daddy and Mommy and Magoo and a girl, um…. I mean SNOW WHITE, and our chili beans and mashed potatoes and white sauce and cheese. Jesus Christ Amen.

Four jobs I’ve had:
1. Selling things made of horse-shoes…in a booth…at “the mall”
2. Piano Teacher
3. Associate Librarian over a massive media department at a public library
4. Marketing and Sales Coordinator for a digital library company

Four movies I would watch over and over (today’s choices):
1. Not One Less
2. Anne of Green Gables
3. Singin’ in the Rain
4. Gates of Heaven – a doc about a pet cemetary

Four places I’ve lived:
1. Calgary, Alberta
2. Florida Keys
3. Provo, Utah – Go Cougs!
4. Houston, TX

Four websites I visit daily:
1. Les Blogs – probably yours
2. Frugal Reader
3. Gmail
4. IMDB

Four of my favorite fattening foods:
1. Spinach/Artichoke dip
2. Two cheeseburgers at McD’s (yes, I’ve seen Super-Size Me and yes, I always order 2)
3. Nachos & Guac
4. Breast milk – but not for me. This is for fattening up other people.

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. In bed.
2. Cape May, NJ
3. With my mom in her time of need, you heartless rodent hater!
4. On a boat.

Four bloggers I’m tagging (optional, but more fun if you do it!):
Most all of my old-time blogging friends have done this, I think…….

Anyone who has been reading my blog for less than a month, please do the meme thing, tell me you’ve done it and I’ll come check out your site.

Literally. Today I post a poem I wrote as a sophomore in college.

I was always “one of the guys.” Periodically I got sick of “the guys” confiding in me, taking me out on non-dates when actual “girls” had ditched them. Sometimes I developed feelings for these “guys” and then I got dramatic and went through stages of moping.

Stage1: Write a poem.
Stage2: Write a song (actually a line, sometimes only a couple of mournful words, strung together by a chord).
Stage3. Paint an abstract depiction of my feelings.
Stage4. (this stage equals total heartbreak and only happened once) Burn abstract painting in kitchen sink, asphyxiating roomates and leaving black marks on the cabinets.

So the DYM has a whiney, self-pitying, destructive side? Umm…ye-ah!

The touch of a Fool

I know
A fool in love
With a woman
I know

Apologetic, whispering fingers
Reach
To brush my shoulder
A quivering knee creeps to meet mine

He craves the touch,
The truth of me
To remind him of

The woman
I know
He loves