Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Garry and I were married in 2003, and I think that I have become lazy in my dependence. Case in point: the dog zap-zap. A few months ago, Garry bought a sensor to keep Quincy, who loved to go searching in the garbage can for treasure, out of the kitchen. If he gets too close, he gets a warning signal (beep! beep!) and if he proceeds, he gets a little zap-zap. The device sat on out kitchen floor for weeks and weeks and even more weeks. I'd ask Garry, from time to time, to please hang it up on the wall so that the kids would not play with it, bump it, and just plain old try to destroy it. And it just never got done. So finally, I broke down, found a nail, a hammer, and put the darn thing up myself. I think that the process took all of ten minutes, and that included the time it took to find a nail in the black hole that we call the garage. And I wondered, why did I wait so long? Where did Ms. Independent, conquerer of all, go?
I don't know where the line is between making Honey-Do lists so I do not feel overwhelmed in my responsibilities and just taking care of the things that I know that I can take care of. But I think that I discovered a line today. I am trying to move Macey into Emma's room, and I need to move Emma's dresser approximately eight inches. I cannot get it to budge, and I am sensitive to the fact that I am pregnant and should not be trying to make it budge in the first place. This one just might have to wait for Garry.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
And I got my wish -- my little end of November baby girl. But now the reality is sinking in, and I have to admit that I am worried about how it is all going to happen. When are we going to get a tree? When will we send out Christmas letters and birth announcements? Will I be able to decorate or just be overwhelmed by a newborn and recovering from a c-section? How in the world am I going to be able to still have a Christmas recital for my piano students?
So that's why we are having Christmas in July. . . planning things little by little and trying to remember to enjoy it all! So far, so good. I bought the girls a game already: Lucky Ducky. And my parents have their plane tickets purchased. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!
Monday, July 28, 2008
Take today. My appointment was for 2:45 and I showed up at 2:40 hoping, hey, early in, early out. (Never works). I sat and sat and sat. I even heard the receptionist call back and say, "You know Mrs. Cunningham is here, right?" Yes, they knew. Then these two older gentlemen came in to the office and, well, they may not have realized it, but they began talking to each other very loudly. And I was trying to read my magazine article on Lindsey Lohan's new relationship and I was worried about the time and then the one older gentleman turns to the other older gentleman and asks, "which doctor does your wife see?" To which he responded, "The woman." Now, that was just annoying. And the clock ticked on.
And then one of the older gentlemen was called back. And I was still there. And I was angry and stressed and so I said (stupid me!) hey, I've been here for 30 minutes!! To which I was informed that my doctor was with a "new patient" and was wrapping things up, she promised. I scowled but was relieved that the other gentleman was at least gone and I could read about Jennifer Garner's pregnancy in peace.
I finally did see the doctor and was then getting ready to have my lab work done. In walked the nurse with the huge needle. It was the same nurse I had just barked at. All I could think was, "Alicia, woman, when are you going to learn to just be quiet." I wondered, should I apologize and beg for mercy before she accidentally misses my vein a few times or just hope that she's heard it all before and wants me out the door more than getting a little revenge.
Luckily, she was very professional and hit my vein the first time. But hopefully the lesson will stay with me for a few months. Woman, just be quiet! 'Cause they keep big old needles in these places.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
But Emma said that I could blog about her choices. She likes Shanna, Cindy, Dinado, No-No, Goo, Reifa, Tannah, Tananino and Missstephanie.
The debate continues.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
My second horrible moment occurred a few years ago on Highway 301 South. I was in a hurry to WalMart of all stupid things, and suddenly this car pulled in front of me at an angle and forced me to stop, in the middle of the road, and a highway at that! So, annoyed, I honked. In fact, I may have honked twice. Who was this man thinking he was all important and could just pull out where and when he wanted to? The nerve. Now, since the car was at an angle, I did not realize until it was way too late that the offending car was actually a hearse at the beginning of a funeral procession and he was trying to stop traffic so that the rest of the procession could catch up and realize that they had to make a U-Turn at a certain location to reach the cemetary on the other side. Wow, that was just darn horrific.
So I had a streak going where I had not done anything too shameful for awhile. And the streak ended today. I was on the cell phone with my sister, walking into the store, carrying Emma and just ignorant to the world, when I noticed that Garry was holding the door open and the gentleman in front of him was holding the other door open as well. Assuming that it was for me, because everything is about me, right?, I breezed right in through the set of double doors, thanking people as graciously as I could like I was Miss America or something as I walked in. And then I saw it. A lady in a wheelchair, trying to exit, and I realized that the men were not holding the doors for me but for the lady trying desperately to exit until I cut her off.
It was not one of my better moments.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
She's my pudgy-wudgy, huggable, lovable gal. She's my Macey Gracey, but we just call her Trouble. She's as healthy as a horse but her diet consists of french toast, milk, juice, macaroni and cheese, yogurt and more milk and more juice. She's smart. Darn smart. She knows her alphabet better than Emma and can problem solve -- thank goodness -- so Mom does not always have to come to the rescue. But she is stubborn. She is the State Department to terrorists--there is no negotiating. Today we took away her dinosaur but promised that she could have it back if she only ate one little bite of rice. And she even likes rice! There was no pain involved for her -- but for the pain of being a pawn in the system that she has seen Emma already surrender to. She never did eat that rice, but she did have her dinosaur back fifteen minutes later, and I'm still not sure how that happened.
She loves to show off and was DEVASTATED today when a teacher came to the house to talk to Emma about her alphabet and object recognition and did not ask her questions. She insisted that I ask the teacher to COME BACK! She wanted to TALK. Poor thing.
So here's my Ode to Macey Grace:
Ode to Macey
Macey Gracey, Pudding Pie
Apple of Mom and Dad's Eye
You're smart, you're cute, so full of attitude.
You even says 'tanks' to show gratitude.
Every battle it seems you have to win,
And it took two long years for your hair to come in.
But we love our beautiful baby,
You're going to be a great little lady.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Remember that song? About the father that was always too busy for his son and then one day when he had time the son just asked for the car keys so that he could spend time with his friends? It's a famous song, and, alas, the title escapes me. But today I got a little glimpse of it.
I asked Emma, who was playing with her stuffed animals, if she wanted to play with the ball with me. "Come on, Emma", I said, "we can sit across the room and take turns throwing or rolling. Wanna play?" Emma was silent. She clearly did not want to, but she does care about her Mama's feelings. "Umm...maybe Macey will play with you," she countered.
Now, I know where she got this. I say it to her 100 times a day. But to hear it back when she's just three? Shouldn't she be a teen before she starts to ditch me?
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Why, oh why do they put strawberries on the cereal boxes? Don't they know that one morning a mother would be going about her business, trying to get her daughters to eat, finally get them to agree to cereal, and then hear the cries that in their bowl there is, indeed, only cereal and not the yummy strawberries that are advertised on the box? Supermom would keep a stash of emergency strawberries in the fridge. But this morning I was far from Supermom. I was "eat yor cereal and stop your cryin'" Mom.
And just when I was oh so proud of Emma's negotiation skills, she threw me a curveball. After the miniwheats disaster, she decided that she would prefer Jello Salad. Now, I would have also preferred Jello Salad, and, alright, I sneaked a few spoonfuls when I thought the girls were not looking, but I am determined that my girls will eat better than I do. So I told Emma that she could have Jello Salad after she finished her cereal and if I did not scarf it all down first. She said no, no, more cereal. I said yes, yes, more cereal. She said no. I said two more bites and then she could have jello. She responded with, "not two, three." Well, I was disappointed in her counting and negotiation, but did not stop to tell her so. Instead, I simply yelled, "Deal!"