And lo, there was much detail

Dear Nikki:

It has come to my attention that you require more details. In point of fact, you even facebooked me with a request for said ‘more details’.  While I am not sure to what details in particular you are referring, I will do my best to comply with your request. It will remain to be seen whether my compliance is adequate or even on topic.

Gather ’round, therefore, for lo there wilst be much de-TAIL-ing:

The Master of the House  Head of the Household Troy:

  • took the final section of the CPA exam a week ago.  He thought it was hard. He probably aced it.  We’ll know about the status next month
  • doesn’t know what to do with all his free time (Michele has quickly given him ideas, most of which involve baby duties
  • finally got what he wanted all along when we moved into the house by being able to move all his music paraphernalia down to the front downstairs office/guest room and out of Miles’s room. Now he has a music room ALL HIS OWN since we hardly ever have guests and never ‘office’.

The Sleep-deprived One The Mommy-brain one Michele:

  • is happy that Troy is done playing w/ the CPA because she can foist a lot more baby duties onto him now, including NIGHTTIME, which she tried not to do so much before because, you know, the studying/need brain power thing. but now he doesn’t need so much brain power
  • is applying to become a La Leche League leader because she is empassioned about helping women figure out how to breastfeed with success if they so desire
  • is getting to know some more people in the area
  • sinned against the Sartorial Gods YET AGAIN today by wearing a Mr. Bubble t-shirt in size Show Your Baby Belly with a pair of shiny blue polyester sweat pants (with pockets AND–please still be my friend, please, please, please–elastic banded hems at the ankle. I KNOW. It’s terrible) AND (there’s more) a blue canvas sunvisor that sports a red maple leaf and the word “Canada” embroidered in white.  (I’m sorry your eyes are bleeding.) (AND by the way, this was for lawn mowing and other lawn-type applications, lest you fret further)

The Tiny Tyrant Miles The Master of the House:

  • was 11 months old yesterday
  • still needs less sleep than his mama and papa combined
  • poops in his potty (thanks Uncle Rob and Aunt Colleen!) almost every time unless it is a suprise poo and even pees in it sometimes (but not all the time because his mama is too lazy to be more aggressive about it and lets him tinkle in his diaper instead. bad mama. bad, bad mama)
  • thinks he is the world’s awesomest baby because he has been impressing all the ladies with his awesome crawling skills for almost 2 weeks now

And there you have it, Miss Nikki. Your feedback concerning said details will be very much appreciated.



The End.


A Day in the Life: Laundry Day



Wash. Rinse. Dry. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat…

Don’t blink

I just saw somewhere a blog post that was titled “You blink and they’re five”. I didn’t read the post. Probably I didn’t need to…don’t we know already what it says?

But I would just like to say this to my five-year-in-the-future-self:

You just spent 45 minutes walking the Tiny Tyrant to sleep for his afternoon nap. He was tired.  He was cranky. He was rubbing his eyes. He was fussing. He was scraping at your neck and collarbone the whole time with his pointy little fingers because that is his idea of fun. Your neck and collarbone look like they met one of the cats in a particularly unfortunate encounter.

Oh, the memories, five-years-in-the-future-self, THE MEMORIES.

Look close. Can you see the scratches? (well, maybe you can’t. but they are there!)

Weekend Edition, Konglish Style

Crunchy? Krispy?  The name says it all!

MMmmmmm, crunky!

These are the People in your Neighborhood

“Jennifer just had her baby last night”, she said as I pulled up beside her car. She was dressed in an aqua shirt and khaki shorts.

Quickly putting two and two together to get five, I realized Jennifer was her daughter and replied with some of the usual positive commentary that surrounds a newly arrived infant.

“It was another boy, her biggest one yet!”  Mentally, I wondered ‘how many does she have?  I thought there was only one older one…’ but Aqua Top kept going, saying “He was 7 lbs 2 oz and she was only 36 weeks along!  He came early!”

Well. Smirk. 7 lb 2 oz. Ha!  That’s nothing, right Miles?

So “congratulations” I say as she is obviously the proud grandmother.  And rightly so since new little babies deserve to have Very Proud Grandmothers.

I wonder, though. How many does Jennifer intend to have?  Not that it isn’t the prerogative of the species to reproduce and multiply but as far as I know she is still ‘working on her degree’. Certainly she lives at home still with her mother and, I think, the boyfriend–whichever one is the current one at the time–sometimes lives there, too. I think but I’m not sure because it’s all rather confusing since there is another sister as well who also has one little one (but she only has ONE, that I know) and HER sometimes, on-again-off-again-boyfriend seems to live there sometimes, too.  So there is a lot of coming and going.

I know you are thinking ‘mi-yeeow’ but if you saw these people, young kids or so it seems to me, the way they tear around the corner of the garage in our little alleyway in their cars so that they could truly kill someone because they wouldn’t be able to stop in time, the way the mamas sitting on the back steps or on the swing yell at the little ones who are playing in the yard to ‘come here’ or ‘stop it’, the way the baby daddies cuss freely at their kids. the way the kids whine. (the way the kids still get excited when ‘daddy’ has come. (does he even care?  has he ever given them a hug, or a more than cursory caress? does he know how? maybe not)). 

It could be worse, I know; there might not BE a grandma’s house to live at. They might beat the kids…I don’t think they do, or not much, anyway.  I think they do the best they can with what they have.

I guess no one can ask more than that, can they?

T minus one day and counting

The countdown continues for T as he is gearing up for his LAST CPA EXAM SECTION EVER (we hope) on Saturday. Woohoo!




On a COMPLETELY unrelated note, did you know this (I bet you didn’t)?:

In Korea, 51.6% of 3- to 5- year old children use the Internet (The National Internet Development Agency of Korea, 2007).  The survey shows that, on average, 4.3 hours per week are spent on the Internet among children aged between 3 and 5 while children start using the Internet at age 3.2.

What happened to books and Tinker Toys and Etch-a-Sketch and Spirograph (I lllllooooovvvee Spirograph and Lite Brite (oh, I love that, too!) and coloring?  What happened to playing outside or riding a bike?  Am I just a bitter, old-fashioned technophobe?  What do you think about this?  And do you have overwhelming pity for my poor son who will be forced to play with only a pencil and a piece of paper during his formative years?



 Poor Miles.


To Sleep, Perchance, is a Dream

Miles doesn’t sleep well. 

Maybe you have noticed that theme running throughout my life recently.

The number of days or weeks that he has slept well, slept through the night could be counted on one hand.

He is almost one year old and he is not even sleeping through the night for the 5 hours that breastfed babies sleep to qualify for ‘through the night’ status.  Sometimes he does, sometimes he’ll go 4.5 or 5 hours between going to sleep and first waking, but usually not. 

Nights like last night are all too frequent. The hourly waking, the being up for 1.5 – 2 hours or T or I being up for that long, anyway, trying to keep him in his restless sleep, patting, holding, singing, walking, rocking (altho not much rocking; he’s not a rocking-type of baby).  The night before last, he soundly slept till 1 a.m. before waking to eat, went right back to sleep for another 3.5 hours before eating again, and then was up at 5:30 because when he does sleep well, he gets up earlier.  But I prefer that to last night.

In fact all the nights like last night are just so difficult.  I try to make light of it in the light of day when it doesn’t seem so dire.

These almost 11 months of fractured sleep are certainly taking their toll. I feel like a big pile of yuck. I find myself living from sugar rush to sugar rush to caffeine rush to make it through the day.  I would exercise–I am sure it would help me feel better–but that requires effort and, at least initially, the energy to get out and do it.

Even more than that is the gnawing self-doubt, the wondering if I am doing something wrong. It seems that many babies who are almost 11 months old sleep in general relatively well with set-backs here and there as they develop. I know that Miles is not unique: I have talked to parents whose marriage was pushed to the brink by a baby with sleep issues like Miles’s.  When their second baby came, they worriedly consulted with a doctor when she slept so peacefully and well, wondering what was wrong with her.  I have talked to my cousin, who paced the floor with her firstborn until she was 15 months, all the while wondering “what am I doing wrong?

You wonder if your instinctual reactions are wrong. The comment that his waking is just a nasty habit sticks with you. The knowing (smirk?) smile your (childless) pediatrician gives you when you mention his sleep problems and that you co-sleep. His difficulty to get back to sleep when he wakes up.  His frequent restlessness and rousings. You just wonder what you are doing wrong but can’t really envision doing anything other than what you are.

I know he will grow out of it…the other babies that I have heard about did.  But meanwhile the sleepless nights, the ennervated days will continue, probably for many months.

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