Pete Is "Excellent"

Pete played 2 memorized pieces for a judge this morning. She's been working hard getting ready for this for the last few weeks, and apparently all the hard work paid off because, her rating? "Excellent." Yay Pete!!

Random Catch-Ups

My little family was computerless for nearly 4 days this week. That's why I've been absent from the blogosphere. Did ya miss me? What?! Not really? Fine. Here's what you did miss while I was away.

* Lulu is almost exclusively wearing panties now. She sleeps in a Pull-Up for naps and at night, but when she's up and around she wears tiny underwear. I am nearly ready to declare her potty trained (when she says she is, I agree, but I'm not saying it yet without the word "almost"). Here's some evidence that she probably is mostly there, though. Also, I know you love my poopoo stories... The other morning, before she got dressed, when she was still wearing her nighttime Pull-Up, she disappeared. When I heard the toilet lid, I calmly said, "Whatcha doing, kiddo?" because 2 year-olds and toilets are sometimes not a good mix. Her answer? "Poopin' in the potty," like that was what she always did. I peeked into the bathroom and she was wrestling out of her footie jammies. Then she sat on her little potty and made a big poop and I gave her 2 jelly beans (before breakfast) because I was so proud! She's done it a couple of times since then, too, but that was my first big hint that she's really ready for this finally.

* A couple of days ago I had something in my eye. I noticed it first in the morning so I did a lot of blinking and holding my hand over my eye so I didn't lose my contact and eventually the feeling went away. I assumed it was an eyelash. Later that evening I felt it again in my eye and went into the bathroom to check it out. After a few minutes of poking around I noticed something sticking out of my eye. It was ¾" of HAIR. Like from my head. And when I pulled it, it just kept coming. I had a 2" hair in my eye all day!! Um, ew? I almost threw it away but couldn't resist showing it to Husbandguy. He was characteristically unimpressed.

* My house is cleaner than it was when the computer left us on Monday morning. WAAAAY cleaner. Apparently I waste a lot of time sitting at this desk on a daily basis. I made a list of the things I did each day so I could refer to it next week when I'm tempted to revert to my old habits and sit here all day. The living room has been clean SINCE MONDAY and IT STAYED THAT WAY ALL WEEK! And the laundry is folded and put away. Did you hear me? I said it is PUT AWAY. HG is loving it. I like it too. PhD and I discussed me making myself a star chart, like the one I made Pete, that says that I can sit at the computer for an hour or whatever as long as I've finished this and that thing around the house...

I bet there are more things to report, but I've got work to do. Besides, what would I write about later if I post it all now?

What If You Had a Coffee and Nobody Came?

That happened to me this morning. I think it happened once last year too. It was weird. And I had made biscotti. I know what happened. The date wasn't clearly communicated to everyone. I take partial responsibility for that. I thought about sending a note to everyone on the newsgroup a couple of days ago but didn't. The principal usually sends out an invitation and I left it for her. She did send one, but not until yesterday... Only she, one other person, and I were there.

It was okay, though. Nobody's feeling were hurt or anything, and I got a few minutes of 1-on-1 time with her to talk about Pete. And there were biscotti left over (all of the biscotti) for me to leave in the staff lounge where they'll be well received.

Still, it was weird. And a little embarrassing. So I sent a note out already about the next 2 coffees and am planning on sending another one when each of the dates get close. It basically said, "You were missed this morning. You missed out on homemade biscotti. Please come next time." I didn't think it was necessary to mention that only 1 person had come this time...

How to Aquire 11,507 Pairs of Sneakers*

I got stuck in the middle of writing this and did a little reading and came across Rene’s post (click here) and it got me thinking about my Love History with Husbandguy. How we met (working at Wal-Mart), our first date (when was that? the night we went out as friends when my real boyfriend had to study for mid-terms – he told us to go – or the next afternoon at Pizza Hut to talk about what had happened the night we went out as friends without my boyfriend or the actual first “official” date at the little Mexican place with the live music – Spanish mumbled into a microphone accompanied by chords on the little Yamaha keyboard?), romantic things we have done for each other (…?...)… This is where I got stuck again.

Huh. “Romantic” is not a word I would use to describe us. Not in the traditional sense. I don’t think either one of us wishes we were, either. Sure, he’s brought me flowers and/or chocolates once or twice and I enjoyed getting them, but I don’t need or expect them. I think, if I did need or expect them I’d be disappointed because that’s not his thing, and I knew that. Sure, I bake him cherry pies just because sometimes, and he does seem to appreciate it, but I don’t think he’d notice if I didn’t. We say “I love you” and kiss and hug and hold hands and sometimes sit close to each other and stuff, but nothing like scattering rose petals in the bath we’ve drawn for each other or writing or reading love poems for or to each other. Okay. Sometimes there are chocolate-covered strawberries, but often I buy them for myself and don’t share. Oh hey wait! This actually is romantic because I usually sincerely offer to share and he says “no” so I can have it all to myself. But see? Not traditional (he doesn’t feed me the strawberry). Comfortable.

HG and I have been married for 11 years this month. That's a long time. A friend of mine who knew us way back then commented that it didn't seem like it had been that long to him, but I don't feel that way. It's not that the past 11 years have dragged by or felt like an eternity or anything cranky like that. Just, so much has happened and/or changed since that drizzly spring day in 1998 that it wouldn't make sense for it to have been much less than 11 years ago. Do you know what I mean? It’s harder for me to wrap my head around the fact that I’ve been in The South for 16 years or that next year HG will turn 40.

We have gray hair and wrinkles (just a few). We have a kid who rides the school bus and takes piano lessons and writes in cursive and a kid who now wears panties about 80% of the time and knows what sound Q makes. We've had 4 pets (5 if you count the resilient beta fish someone gave Pete for her 1st birthday - please don't give a child a fish for her 1st birthday without checking with her parents first). We've had a total of 7 different cars, 4 different TVs, 10 different jobs (between us), 3 different computers, 2 different couches, 11,507 pairs of sneakers, and 2 different mortgages (but just 1 house). HG is to blame responsible for the cars, TVs, and sneakers. We share the rest.

The Bradford pear tree in front of our house was held up by stakes when we moved in. Now it barely flinches when the wind gets strong or when Pete and her friends scramble up into its branches. Neighbors have come and gone. Friends, family, and other loved ones have gotten married or divorced (although no one we know did both in the last 11 years). Some have had children. Family members have passed on and are missed.

And I bet that’s not even half of it all.

You’ll get no shock or surprise or disbelief from me when I say out loud that we’ve been married 11 years. It’s a lot, but it’s not out of proportion. And just imagine what that pear tree will look like after another 11 years (maybe we’ll drive by and check it out on the way home to our 3rd mortgage).


*Thanks go to ...45aA for the title inspiration.

LL Says:

LL: I feel like I want to throw up, but I don't know how.

MN: What, sweetie?

LL (shrieking): YES I AM GOING TO!!

Then the poor kid proved to my shoes that she does indeed know how to throw up. Poor kid. She's only had 1 throw-up-free day since Saturday. I bet she's tired of it. I am.

What I (apparently) Need

Here’s how it works: Google “[your first name] needs” and share the first 10 results. That's it: it is that simple. But be honest! Tag the person who tagged you, and pass it on. (*NOTE: Be careful not to pull from other people's lists that pop up, but from actual links.)


1. Mommy’s Nintendo needs and deserves a lot of promotion. (you know it!)

2. What MN needs now. I guess learning about different methods to accept investors' backing. (I accept cash, check, gift cards...)

3. MN needs cement poured down her throat. (I disagree!)

4. MN Needs To Get Her Ears Cleaned. (huh?)

5. MN needs a strong man. ((blush))

6. MN needs to stop it. (sorry)

7. MN needs to turn 7 more or gain 163 more Vampire points to reach the next level. (you're next...)

8. MN needs to make a livable home for them and their son. (for whom and whose son? why is this my job?)

9. MN admits she needs anger management counselling. (I admit no such thing! and I'm totally ticked off that you'd say that about me!)

10. And of course MN needs a band-aid.


(I actually did the search using my real first name. You do it too, okay? I'm tagging You.)

The Bone Sticks Out When You Bend It

Did you cringe? When you read the title? I would have.

Our computer is busted. The left hinge is broken. It still closes and everything, but the case is cracked and the metal rod sticks out when it's shut. It's not a big deal except that we have to send it away to get it fixed so I'll be computer-less for at least a week very soon. I'm not looking forward to it, but the repair is free and maybe I can finish some projects around here while it's gone...

When I called customer service to set up the repair, the rep who answered the phone told me his name but I couldn't understand him. I asked him to repeat it but still didn't catch it so I said, "Could you spell that for me?" and he said, "F." Then he said, "That is all."

Oh. 'Kay then.

The Barack Obama Show

The other day, Husbandguy and I watched the president's press conference and enjoyed all the references, direct and implied, to the mistakes of the previous administration. We also enjoyed playing a little fill-in-the-blank game when the president left off phrases like, "under the previous administration" or "by my predecessor."

Oh and we listened to what he had to say. Something I couldn't make myself do during the previous administration with his predecessor.

And Then She Remembered

The story has already been told online. You can (and should) check it out here.

Joyful News!

I need to get permission to tell you this whole story because it's an amazing story, but I'm going to go ahead and tell you what I can. Remember #4 in yesterday's post? It happened. And a baby was born! A hoped-for, much-wanted, long-awaited baby.

Welcome, Baby Boy G!!

I'm Not Complaining... Even Though I Want To

All I want to do is moan and complain and grump about all the things that are wrong with/around me. Instead, here is a list of what is right:

1. My kitchen is clean. And my cookbooks are not in a box in the garage anymore.
2. The laundry is finished.
3. My vertigo lasted less than 24 hours.
4. Someone I care very much about is quite possibly in the middle of something wonderful and long-awaited right now (maybe more about that in a few days).
5. Lulu is clean and quiet in her bed for the moment.
6. I get to see extended family this weekend.
7. I have a new book that I am looking forward to reading.
8. I have a new project that I am looking forward to finishing. It's curtains for Lulu's room to go with her big girl bed when we get it in the next few weeks. I'll post a picture when they're finished.
9. Husbandguy and I have been married 11 years this month. There is a spaghetti dinner at Pete's school the evening of our actual anniversary so we don't need to make any special plans to celebrate, I guess.

There. I posted 9 good things instead of the 3 or 4 icky things I could have posted. I feel a little better, I guess.

Random Thought

I think it is misleading that the models in mascara ads wear false eyelashes.

I'm not complaining for myself personally because I actually have pretty nice lashes, but it seems unfair to women who might wish theirs were longer/fuller/more glamorous.

Please Don't Get MS... Or Vertigo...

Last night I woke myself up a few times simply rolling onto my back. Or maybe more accurately, the sensation of the world tilting dramatically on its axis woke me up. Have you ever experienced vertigo? How about while you're sleeping? It's unpleasant. I'm understating a tad.

I have BPPV, and several years ago, I think before Pete, it was really bad. So bad that if I looked at an airplane flying overhead or laid on my back on the bed, the room would turn on its side and a clammy wave of nausea would overtake me and I'd be useless until it passed. It had lessened for a long time, but apparently it's back. It is bad enough that I couldn't sleep on my back even with a pillow last night or tilt my head back to put drops on my contacts this morning. I hate BPPV. I'm understating a tad.

So since I already felt like crap this morning and don't have anything big scheduled until late Friday (Husbandguy said he will drive to Pete's swimming lesson and the thing on Friday - I checked), I decided to go ahead and take my monthly steroids today. I'd been putting it off because... well look here - that'll explain it some. It's just hard to find a time when I don't have something to do that would be difficult to put off or miss because I can't drive myself there. Like church. Or Pete's school. Or my life. Anyway, I was hoping the steroids would help with the vertigo - not because they're supposed to - I was just hoping. Instead they made me feel worse. HG had to come home to drive me and Pete to her check-up. He's really good about that kind of stuff. I thanked him. Several times.

Steroids are supposed to give you energy, right? Make you kind of high or hyped-up or even aggressive. Right? I get hyped usually, but the hyped-up feeling in my day today happened just after Pete's check up, when I apparently had a little extra adrenaline or something and felt actually normal for the first time since sometime after midnight.

Maybe I could learn something from this about how to feel better after I've taken my steroids. Exercise? Performing? Lecture circuit? But right now I can't think about that. I'm going to take my shot (yep, still have to do that) and take ½ a Xanax and fade away until morning, when I bet I'll be abnormally peaceful and tolerant until about 10 AM when the Xanax fully wears off.

Funny Mental Image for You

The other day Husbandguy got so extremely frustrated with the girls for not listening that he hollered this:

"EVERYONE NEEDS TO GET NAKED AND GET IN THE SHOWER!!"

I know many of you don't have the necessary information or the desire to picture everyone in my family naked and crammed in the shower together, but maybe picture your family or a family you know, and you'll understand why my reaction to his outburst was unhelpful laughter. He still won't laugh about it, but come on! That's just a silly thing! Right?

Snow Day? Really?

I've been here 15 "winters" now and am used to the schools closing for minimal winter weather but even I think they may have overreacted to the "snow" this time.

"Are You a Musician?"

After the service yesterday, I was trying to catch up with the music director at my church (I turned in my membership papers yesterday and so can say "my church"), but he was clearly busy and I couldn't catch him. I was on the verge of just trying next week when I caught sight of a table marked "Music Stuff" or "Music Program" or "the Table Where One Can Learn About Music at this Church" or something equally as obvious. I didn't hear angels or anything, but it was definitely a moment when another, more desperate person (like me in a month) might have seen a glowing halo and heard "Aaaaaahhh..."

"Look," I said to Pete. "I bet that's where I need to go." Pete said, "What?" I don't think she's quite as concerned about me joining the choir as I am.

When I approached the table and flashed my friendliest new-person-in-need-of-guidance smile (it's really very striking and always get results), I was greeted with this question, "Are you a musician?"

Am I a musician? Hmm... Am I?

Eighteen years ago, my automatic and immediate answer would have been, "Pshaw! Of course! What a silly question!" Because I was then. I played piano and tuba and flute and oboe and bass drum and many, many other band instruments (I won an award from our director for "most diverse") and guitar and sang and hung out with musicians on a regular basis for whom I wrote incredibly poetic little songs for them to screech into a microphone in their mom's garage or rec room (and who played in the school band or regularly sang with me in front of audiences). And even a few short years after that, I might have unhesitatingly said, "Yes!" because of PSP and her dad.

But I hesitated for an instant. I really did. Most recently my musicality has been limited to bedtime lullabies and warbling along with Music for Aardvarks in the car and counting to 4 while my sweet and talented Pete practices her piano. Oh, and singing in the shower, but a rousing chorus of "Let It Snow!" amongst the suds does not make you a musician (sorry, but it really doesn't). For just an instant I hesitated.

Then I said, clearly and with certainty, "YES." I am a musician.

I may be out of practice. I really need to hone my sight-singing and piano skills, but this is why one of the main reasons I went looking for a church. Music is almost missing from my life and this is wrong. The music program at a church seemed like the best place to get it back. It's a starting place, at least.

So I signed my name and my phone number and my email address and indicated that I'm interested in choir and play a little piano and am just waiting now to hear from the director. From what I've heard, he should be anxious to talk to me. Everyone seems to think he's desperate for musicians. Although from what I've seen he's more than sufficiently surrounded by talent...

And as an added bonus, later in the day I read in either the Order of Service or the monthly newsletter that they're starting an audition-only chamber choir! Ho. Ly. Mo. Ly. That is for me.

Preschool Love

Brady told his mom, "[Lulu] holds my hand on the playground."

Brady's mom asked, "Do you like that?"

Brady answered, "Yeah."

Awww!