Words, words, words

Reading through last week's Suburban Turmoil I found Lucinda's September 22nd post about 'Fascinating Womanhood'. Intrigued slightly I read on. Horror quickly replaced intrigue as I scrolled down the page.

Has anyone heard of this book or author? Her name is Helen Andelin and her book, Fascinating Womanhood has sold millions of copies. This scares me more than the Rules woman did in the late 90's. What struck me though was Andelin's use of the word vascillate.

A man is by nature and temperament a born leader, who tends to be decisive and have the courage of his convictions. A woman, on the other hand, tends to vacillate.

Icky right? I hate this word vacillate. It grosses me out for some reason and always has. It makes me think of windmills, vaseline and other goopy items. It makes me want to scream. Thankfully it's a seldom used word. When I read that piece by Andelin I just pictured a woman with windmill arms flailing around helplessly and it made me mad. It makes me wonder, who are these woman buying this book? Do I know anyone who thinks this way? Is this actually true? Do men really prefer this type of gal? Will I now associate this word (the one which we do not speak) that I already loathe with woosey females making me hate it even more? Probably. It's branded into my brain, searing my gray matter with a burning hot metal poker. Vascillate. Yuck.

I have to go brush my teeth now because I just threw up.


Do you hate a certain word? Is there one out there that just makes you cringe when you hear it or scream with your hands over your ears? Comments please.

Back on Track

It's been sort of a crazy week in our house since we got back from our trip. I'm catching up on freelance work, H is still working on finishing up the rehab house, and well there are social obligations to fufill. I'm exhausted to say the least and it's fueled by the fact that with a change of venue T.D.'s schedule was periously thrown off while we were on our vacation.

It happens every time she goes to her Nana's. She is held constantly and spoiled rotten. I know that is what grandparents do. I remember the undivided attention and junk food I got from mine everytime I stayed with them, which was A LOT. My grandmother would feed me unsalted potato chips, Total cereal, and other somewhat healthy foods during the day, but as soon as she would creak up the stairs to bed my grandfather (Pepere) would whisper, "Hey, wanna snack?" In the darkened kitchen we would break out the ice cream, add jelly beans and marshmallows to it and drink soda. How's that for spoiling? We'd sneak back into the den and watch tv shows like 'Love Boat' where I developed my love for Charro. I loved every minute of that stuff and I know T.D. must love the constant hugs, treats, toys and other assorted attention she gets.

However, when we, her parents, get her back, well watch out. "Oy!", is all I can say. She is a bear, a dictator in the truest sense. She cries when you put her down for even a second. You thought you were going to get a drink of water? You thought you were going to the bathroom? Think again lady! You're mine! All MINE!! Daycare even says- "Oh she was at her grandparents again..." with an ominous tone. They dread it too. I am very grateful that she is so loved and that they live close and are more than willing to care for her, but the crying, fussing, no napping and waking up during the night for about a week is so wearing on H and I that I always wonder at 3 a.m. when she is up AGAIN, was it really worth the trip?

We seem to be finally back on track though as of last night. T.D. offered us a pardon and let us sleep through the night. Yeah! Maybe our silent pleading eyes, wringing hands and soulful cries for sleep finally reached her. It's been exhausting this week with that lack of sleep and high demand for more than normal attention. I'm glad we finally have our despot back now and she is in jolly form again.

Product of the Week!

I could easily say that the product for this week is vacation, R&R or Jamaica, but I don't want to go that route. This week I'm reviewing Me Bath products, specifically the bath ice cream. Doesn't that name alone entice you?

I received this product as a gift for my birthday and used it not that long ago. It's a bath bomb and it comes in wonderful "flavors" such as Chocolate Covered Strawberry, Coconut Cove, and Amber Waves among many others. I used the Land of Milk and Honey one and just fell in love. It's a good size bath bomb that comes in simple, non-wasteful packaging. It dissolved great and the water felt like silk. I have a pretty big sunken tub so to fill it and still create that sensation was nice. It wasn't an overpowering scent either. I found that after my soak my skin was really soft and lightly scented. It was just right. I can't wait to buy more of these bath bombs and find other Me Bath products.

Thanks Gretchen for a great gift and for introducing me to something new!

JAMAICA!

Warm breezes, tranquil, clear blue seas and a sandy beach. That is where I'll be starting tomorrow. I'll be laying by the pool in a comfy chaise lounge sipping my drink of choice, which will be the drink of choice by the hour most likely. It better not rain the four days we are there. But if it does, I'll just read and nap the days away gorging myself on hotel food and then lumbering down to the fitness center to work off whatever mousse delight and plateful of fried goods I just devoured. I'll eat a piece of jerked animal for you all and wish you a good week!

I'm feeling more mellow already.

Selling out?

You may have noticed some small differences in the last week or so to the site. The sudden review of seemingly unrelated products. These are not the typical 'Products of the Week' you might say. Well no, they are not. Bear with me while I try something new and take on a sponsor who sends me items to review. In return, I do get some compensation, that is true. Which all furthers my goal of getting out there, writing full-time and working from home. View this as an experiment and that these are the more practical 'Products of the Week'. They may not always be favorable either.

Oh a house rehab...

At this point, and I know it's not a 'Money Pit' type situation, I think H might need rehab of the AA variety. I've alluded to it before but about a month ago we bought a great little investment property near our own home. It was really almost too good to be true and a little too smooth and easy. H's company closed on the house quickly and all we needed to do was go on in and start the rehab. Which I must say would be fairly simple. The bathrooms and kitchen had all been redone in the last year or so and were up to date. They just needed a cleaning, an industrial cleaning. New carpets and some wood floor and paint would also be done.

At one point H asked, "Should I install new window treatments in the house? Like blinds?" I told him no, because isn't that up to the new owner anyway? But if we did install new blinds, I would go with this company, Guaranteed Blinds. They have every type of blind you can think of. Wood, faux wood, vinyl, mini blinds, you name it. I was impressed with the guaranteed price, delivery and easy to use website. They have free advice and even samples that they can send you. It's worth a shot if you are low on time especially which is the case with us these days.

So now we've settled that and while the contractor has proved less than reliable. Isn't that in their job description, we've picked the flooring, the carpet and paint. The yard is now being cleaned up by H who also replaced some rotted floor this weekend and the wood floor is down. The house will be cleaned this week and the carpet installed. It was a lot of work, and it was not that much work. Depending no the day, time and week you may ask us. It's been a learning experience or the crap saying I loathe, a "lessons learned". We'll do it again as it's the nature of H's business. We might even buy blinds next time.

Oh My Heavens!

Or Heavens to Merkatroid! I am all over the place. As Henry Rollins once said, "my shits all apart." That is truly in as much of a nutshell as I can put it how I feel. I am all over the place. I don't know whether or not I'm coming or going.

It's been an insane weekend in our little world and while we leave for our trip to Jamaica in two days I can't even fathom it. The only thing at this point I think of is call the pet sitter, set the alarm for her, how are we getting to the airport? Are we walking? When is my MIL coming to our house to pick up T.D.? Is T.D. getting sick from me? H is. Did we pack? What am I forgetting? Oh I have to go to work before then? Oops, I forgot. Like I said, my shit is all apart.

All this suffice to say is making me really tired and drawing out the life of my cold. The simple act of brushing my teeth seems too much. I have a freelance job and now I have re-writes. Plus my full-time job and the baby, packing, and trying to be a good wife. I'm failing all of them miserably. Something had to give and it's all giving right now. I just have nothing left in me at the moment. The point of vacation is for H and I to get away, rest, relax and reconnect. I think we need a month on a desert island at this point to reconnect. I was hoping/needing this weekend to do that before our trip so I could get excited about it really in all honesty and that just didn't happen. What happened was this.

Friday - I had the day off. I felt much improved on Thursday from the cold and so I figured while I felt sort of ick on Friday, well I had the whole other two days to rest. Ha Ha. Yeah right. That so is not what happened. I had a wonderful time on Friday with my friend. I wouldn't trade that day at all. Saturday morning though- different story. I awoke feeling like crap on a spatula. While it's not the worst cold I've ever had it was not good. But, I figured. H is home, it's "family day" for us and we're fine. Nope. EMERGENCY, EMERGENCY, H needs to head to the house we are rehabbing. He spends the day there doing work our contractor should be doing but he is MIA. Bastard. No tooth bastard. I spend the day taking care of T.D. who is in good spirits (thankfully) and cleaning and packing all in hopes that I would feel more organized. Not really.

Sunday came and I was running a mild fever, T.D. was sneezing a bit which has me freaked. I would hate to have her catch this cold especially while we are gone. H napped on the couch while I put T.D. in the tub so I could get a shower. It was not a fun moment. Our house is not childproofed yet, there just hasn't been enough time. Catching a theme here? We haven't even had time to have a cohesive conversation on what type of gates to get nevermind buy or install them. So in the garden-style tub she went sans water but with some toys and her blanket. Five minutes later when I emerged from the shower she was alseep in the tub face down. What a sight. I placed her in her crib and finished getting ready for the day. What I was going to do with the day I had no idea. I was too worn out to go to the party I was invited to at a neighbors. The idea of running even fun errands for our trip? Nope, didn't care so much anymore. I just wanted a quiet house with a nap. I wanted to crawl into bed and not hear a sound. Just lights out for Mummy. Get better and be in a better frame of mind.

I feel like I need a vacation to gear up for vacation. I keep checking the hotel website to get excited. I'm getting there but it took some talking into. I'm too keyed up. H is getting the cold now. I'm worried T.D. will besides the fact that I'm for the first time worried about traveling over any part of ocean and our plane going down and suddenly she's orphaned. That's such a relaxing thought.

I will end with the cheery thought that it's slow at work and I have some re-writes to do on a freelance job I just got- which pays!! I will ignore the churchy tirade going on in the office kitchen next to me and get to work.

I may have to start a thankful list today.

Wwaaahhhaaaaahhhaaa, sob, gulp

That wailing sound you hear? That's just Tucker Carlson himself crying in the corner because he's just been ousted from 'Dancing with the Stars'

Thank you America!!!

Make Him Stop America!

Preppy Ass. Flat preppy ass. That is the term that instantly blinks like a neon sign in my brain when I see Tucker Carlson. That and then a shudder ripples through my body. This syndrome that we'll call "Tucker Syndrome Phase One", as I'm sure other phases will develop over time, happened repeatedly last night. Why? Well because my crap-tv addicted self just HAD to watch 'Dancing with the Stars'.

I knew that Tucker would be on there. For weeks I've known and dreaded his dance moves being made national. I just knew nothing good was going to come of this. Sadly there are no pictures posted yet or video I could find to really show you how dreadful it was. H left the room. He has no time for such nonsense. Though last season that boy was all over Drew Lachey like white on rice. But I digress.

The instant that they started his segment it was like a train wreck. I was alternately cringing and hiding my face with my hands, arms, legs, a pillow or the dog. The watermelon pink pleated pants, the glaring white socks with black heeled dance shoes, the button down shirts to train in, the list goes on, all made me powerless to change the channel. The worst beyond the actual dancing, is Tucker's penchant for wearing tapered leg pants. I suppose only being seen from the waist up normally has advantages for him and but now we the American public know his ugly secret. Tucker is sporting a gut and he has to wear his double pleated, tapered leg khakis far below his waistline. Not attractive Mr. Carlson, not attaractive. Tsk Tsk. Where was wardrobe when you desperately needed them?

Sometimes, he appeared to be making an effort. Sweating profusely he would lumber and stumble along. Other times he appeared almost fey and pranced albeit clumsily along. I feel for his partner. She has a long hard path to hoe with this man. She knows it too. More power to you sister for persevering and not quitting the show from the getgo.

However, I save the worst/best for last. The actual dance sequence on LIVE! television. Oy. It starts out with Tucker in a chair. Oh goodie, I thought, where is this leading? Oh crap! I thought seconds later as I watched his partner girate in front of him Cha Cha style as he sat and watched smiling stupidly. It was like having a view into a weekend where "Tucker does Bachelor Party!" Come to think of it the whole thing wreaked of a bad wedding weekend. He is THAT guy. You know, the groomsmen who has a bit too much to drink and you are forced to dance with him, only he can't dance for shit but tries REALLY hard and makes a lot of embarrassing faces while doing it. That's Tucker. When he finally got up from the chair, after his "lap dance" from his partner, he struck the classic jokey Cha Cha pose. Arms up he skipped across the floor. This time someone in wardrobe for ABC was nice enough to find the man a pair of non-tapered pants.

When it was all said and done all I could think was, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE AMERICA NO MORE. This is a form of slooooow torture brought to you week by week by Charmin. He cannot stay. So do your civic duty and vote that sucker off!

Update: Click on the title and you too can see a video of the dance of death!

The Product of the Week!

It's that time again! Time to discuss this week's discovery. This product is nothing new. In fact, it's been around since 1886. It's "Ding Dong! Avon calling!" While the company started out as a perfume company, and later changed it's name in 1939 to Avon Products, Inc., it now sells a wide range of hair, make-up, skin care and jewelry lines.

As far back as the 1950's Avon has typically employed more women than men within their company. Women were their main target audience so who better to have running the show? It was in the 1970's that the company, which had now reached worldwide distribution, started to branch out into working on women's causes and events. Avon sponsored marathons, built a women's 'Cultural Center' in Japan for outstanding women in the community, and started converting their aerosol products to CFC enviromentally-friendly hydrocarbons. It was in the 1990's that the company stopped testing on animals all together and had raised upwards of $50 million to Avon Worldwide for Women's Health. Through the years they have continued in this tradition crusading in the fight against breast cancer with funding, charity events including the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer and their Domestic Violence foundation. This is a company that strives to make women not only look better but educate and nurture them.

A stellar background like that could make their products an easy target. However, their lines from Planet Spa to Skin so Soft do stand the test of time and continue to get better as well as change with their costumers needs and desires. For all these reasons, Avon is the Product of the Week.

Avon products can be found on Amazon.com as well as avon.com.

Let's See

So I signed up for a blogging advertising type thingy recently. All in hopes of maybe making some money. My first assignment is this- write about Advantage One Insurance. Hmmm... and tie this into my blog. Well for starters, insurance is extremely important. It's how I knew H must really care about me. He bought me health insurance for a few months when I was unemployed. That isn't cheap. He was just sick of me spending my small bank roll on random medical emergencies that we all get. So taking a look at this site, I notice that they even have cigar insurance. Well don't that beat all. Cigar insurance.

A Bit of a Rant

I admit it. I'm officially old now. I'm a New Englander at heart, though not entirely puritanical. In some ways yes, I can be a traditionalist. "There's a shocker!", I'm sure H is saying. So what I'm trying to say here is, is that I'm a devout listener of NPR. Yup, that tune to the BBC World News rings in my ear each morning and it makes me smile, I confess. I like Carl Kesell and Terry Gross. I find "Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me" hilarious and I'm positively giddy when I get to listen to 'Fresh Air's' entire program as well as 'All Things Considered'. I've crossed the threshold into adulthood I guess.

So this morning as I was doing the morning commute into the 5th ring of hell, a.k.a. work, I was quite pleased to hear a story being done out of the UK on a topic H and I are quite adamant about. Healthy eating for children and school lunch programs.

Growing up in RI I actually didn't eat the school lunch. My Mom lovingly packed me a lunch each day, sometimes with little notes that had X's and O's on the napkins. That's love right there. She made sure it was a balanced meal too.
Fruit? Check.
Veggies? Check.
Milk or Juice? Check.
Sandwich consisting of protein and more veggies? Check, Check.

There was usually something sweet thrown in there but we were not a junk food house. My Mom cannot digest processed food. Hot dogs make her instantly up-chuck. I didn't have Mac 'n' Cheese until high school at a friends house. We did have more junk food slowly infiltrate our house in high school, but her rule was "Everything in Moderation". I live by that rule today. So does H. In our homes convienence food was a treat. Pizza was had maybe once a month. Dessert was for special dinners and soda was never allowed at the dinner table.

My school didn't possess a soda machine or any type of chips or candy either. The sweetest thing we had was canned fruit and chocolate milk in the lunch room. I guess that is why I find it so alarming now when I hear about chips, soda, candy and pastries being the norm in even elementary schools. There are so many kids who are on the school lunch program and Pizza Hut, Taco Bell and other assorted fast food fare is readily available. Sure the schools have the same ol' chicken nuggets and salad available but how can a sad little orange compete with nachos?

Then I hear this story on NPR today. Britian has decided that oily fish will only be served twice a month in schools. No more crisps (chips to us Yanks), no more candy or sweets beyond fruit, and definetly no more chips (french fries) in the school's lunch room. Hooray!!! It's all part of a long term study that the UK has done. Sometime in the 90's researchers found that children in elementary schools were becoming more depressed. Why? While part of it is due to an increasing, and I have to say, alarming amount of television, hand held games, and computer screens being in their little faces, a lot is also due to diet. A diet that consisted largely of high-fat, salty, sugary sweet foods. Wow, what a newsflash. Sad, but true. This story is hardly new and definetly not just a UK based problem. People all over the world are more depressed and overweight today than they were even ten years ago.

Children are growing up in a faster, more competetive world today. Everything is in their face all the time. Marketing reaches them like it never has before. They are inundated 24/7. While many feel that it's not up to the government, but the parents, to mandate the level of virtual worlds our kids live in, the government can and should "assist" in what schools feed children. Too bad in the U.S. it's slow going with only a handful of higher income bracket schools doing this. Many U.S. schools have begun to offer healthier fare but they still offer the crap too. Mainly because the corporations pay the schools money to showcase their food. Crap that sadly is now available all the time, every where we waddle. Yup, waddle.

I don't want to raise T.D. in that environment where it's all, gimmee candy, fries and crap all the time. It is up to us parents to combat these corporations infiltration into our kids minds with their clever marketing. However, maybe instead of testing the bejeezus out of our kids each week and month the government and No Child Left Behind could say 'No!' to the giant corps and their money and subsidize our schools with all real, healthy foods and teach them about healthy eating, excercise and moderation in diet and life. Stop eliminating gym class too so they can cram in more class time to study for those damn standardized tests. But that's a whole other rant or two.

I'm climbing down from my giant soapbox now.

Fluff

I found this online this morning and it just struck me as so odd. Does anyone else find this just a scootch bizarre? I included a link to the whole thing in the title since I'm only doing excerpts.

What I've Learned: Burt Reynolds
Actor, 70, Jupiter, Florida
Interviewed by Ross Johnson

I was number one five years in a row at the box office. But what's really stunning is that no one until me had ever gone from number one to number thirty-eight in one year. Yeah, the seventies can do that to a person

God forgive me, but I love the attention of people. Is that why he did Cannonball?
Your bullshit detector gets better with time.

I could have won millions of dollars in lawsuits about the AIDS rumors back in 1984. I survived it by my father's philosophy: "I'll piss on your grave." Classic Burt.

Nowadays, instead of saying, "He's a prick," I'll say, "He's complicated." Hmmm...I must remember this one and use it often at work.

Paul Newman is the personification of cool. Ain't that the truth, I swear!

I'd rather be shot in the leg than watch an Ingmar Bergman picture. Love the honesty

For a long time, if you were seeing a psychiatrist, you were thought of as being a wacko. But because of good ol' Dr. Phil, people know we need to talk to someone who just sits there and is nonjudgmental and says, "Do you think it's a good idea not to have a bowel movement for three months?" Because a lot of stuff gets clogged up there, and you gotta get some of it out. And getting it out is painful, and you can bleed. Whoa, am I the only one who got lost somewhere in that last one?

I once went to group therapy. Everyone there blamed someone else -- their mother, their father, their agent. When it got to me, I said, "You're all full of (crap). You're gonna be here forever. Look in the mirror. You are responsible for every mistake you made." I would have paid good money to see this one. Love it.

I've made fun of myself the person, but I don't take roles where I make fun of the actor. I've worked too hard and too long with too many good people, and I respect myself as an actor. Is that why he did the Fed Ex commercial a few years ago?

I hate prejudice of any kind, whether it be color or sexual preference. I don't give a (crap) if you had a goat. If it's a happy goat, and you're happy, I'm happy for you. However, I may not want to have dinner with the both of you. I think I'm a Burt fan now. He kills me.

We Remember Tyler Ugolyn

It’s hard to believe it has already been five years. So much has happened in the last few years. Today, we remember and pay tribute to those who lost their lives that tragic day. I think focusing on the good that these people did is better than focusing on the tragedy and negative feelings we may still harbor. Today, I pay tribute to Tyler Ugolyn.

Tyler was just 23 and had recently begun working at the World Trade Center for Fred Alger Management, Research Associate. Though I did not know Tyler personally what I have learned is that he was a very bright light in the lives of those he touched. He loved his family and friends. He played basketball for his high school in Ridgefield, CT where they have now created a memorial to him. He attended Columbia College where he played for two seasons on their basketball team as well. He was a devout Christian who often lent his time to local charities and soup kitchens. He was always willing to help a friend in need. Tyler is remembered fondly by even those who only met him for a moment http://www.sept11thmemorial.com/last_name.asp?Letter=U. My thoughts and prayers go out to those who knew him today as I know they still dearly miss him.



On Tyler Ugolyn's Web site is a handwritten note from his grandmother: Yesterday is history. Tomorrow a mystery. Today is a gift from God!

The words resounded through the life of Mr. Ugolyn, a 23-year-old Columbia University graduate who started his dream job last summer as a research associate with Fred Alger Management Inc., in the World Trade Center. At 6-foot-4, he was an accomplished athlete who played basketball for Columbia before being injured. Not to be defined by a single thing, he was known for a constant smile and infectious, if offbeat, laugh. He helped start a youth basketball program in Harlem, but was also known for his love for his 1992 GMC Typhoon (also featured prominently on the Web site).

"He did many things diligently and with passion," said Zachary Schiller, a friend and teammate at Columbia. "The way he ran drills in basketball. The way he went to church every Sunday. He did it without complaining and would sort of remind everyone through his effort and example."
(Article courtesy of the New York Times, January 20, 2002)

Let us also pay tribute to Judson Cavalier. His 2996 tribute can be found here http://chattiekat.blogspot.com/

Reminder- 2996

In four days the 2996 project will be complete and live out on the web. Please don't forget to check back here and the various other sites to remember and honor those who passed on September 11th. I'm currently compiling any information I can on Tyler right now and also adding a little something about someone else, Judson Cavalier. If anyone wants to add anything in please let me know. I'm trying to do my best with my limited computer knowledge.

Never Forget

Women on Women

Last night I was invited out to a 'Girl's Night Out' with some of the women in my neighborhood. They have a little group of varying women who go out every Thursday doing various local things. Sometimes it's dinner or drinks, other times just dessert or a movie. This was the first time I was invited and I was a bit leary but really wanted the chance to get to know more people I live near to just have girl time. It's so rare the older you get.

Around the end of the night and a few glasses of wine later the topic came up about women who berate other women. How we are all guilty of it and judging on how we look, our career choices, the Mommy Wars, whatever. It's been a topic of this blog this week and in the past. It's something I feel really strongly about. It's one of the major factors I think is wrong with our society. If we as women, who can achieve whatever we put our minds to, would just stop and think for a second about what we are really doing when we berate another woman's choices I think we would all take care of one another better.

It really does take a village to raise a child. Those villages in the past have historically been made up of mainly women. Biologically that is why women live longer, so that as a tribe the generations take care of each other and the children. Men die sooner because they aren't as needed. I'm not saying this is true at all these days. I have no idea how many times I've been glad and thankful to have H around and his help. I'm just saying biologically that is the reasoning.

The evening ended with that discussion. We all felt very strongly that we need to support each other more. I see it being done in my neighborhood all the time and it's the perfect place to start. We watch each other's kids in a pinch, bring dinners over when someone is sick or in need. We even walk each other's dogs. We don't judge how we raise our children or deal with our marriages and life choices. I'm proud to live with a group of women like that. However, I daily hear and see and sometimes am the victim of or even add to the mess that is judging other women.

This morning I read 'Motherhood Uncensored' again, like I do everyday and she brought up this topic as well. She had a chat with Gloria Steinheim yesterday and her new venture into radio. Wow! That brings me to GreenStone Media. It's a media outlet for women who support other women and their various choices. It's fantastic and I urge you all to check it out. There really is something for everyone. The link is in the title of this post incidentally. I also urge you to join me in supporting other women. Listening to them and their needs and visit Mom Rising in the sidebar. Whether you are a mother or not it affects you because this is your world too.

Oh and Liz, I'm still your friend despite that fact that you have Sexyback as your ringtone. I have accepted that I'm just plagued by that song and J.T. It's my lot in life. I will persevere.

Product of the Week!

This week I'm asking you to go over to Motherhood Uncensored. September 6th's post about judging is something I've talked about on this site a few times. I think in most cases she is spot on. We all judge, it's human. What we don't do is accept. At least that is my stand point. So for my product of the week I'm going to try not to judge/berate other women for their choices. It's something I try to do each day. It's something I've asked others to do for me and this blog. We do what is right for our families and ourselves. If it works and we are happy and can honestly stand by and uphold our beliefs then go on with your bad self! If not, you might get judged just a scootch. Don't say you ain't been warned.

A plot? A conspiracy?

Either way I'm not getting much sleep these days. Last night was night six in "Let's Prove that Sleep Deprivation Really is a Form of Toture." I swear there are hidden cameras in my house filming my manic decline from lack of sleep. Maybe it's just my lack of sleep paranoia though that makes me wonder about the cameras.

After putting T.D. down for the night around 8 p.m. I decided it would be a grand idea to put myself to bed. I would read a teeny, tiny bit (Augusten Burroughs, 'Magical Thinking') and then fall into a blissful deep sleep. Nice idea. Not what happened.

H came home and told me to go to bed. But, I stayed up watching a wee bit of Colbert until I really decided, "yeah, I do need sleep." Off I went. Alone. Keep that in mind. It was 8:40 p.m. Keep that in mind too. I read for a bit and turned off the light at 9:10 p.m. At 10 I was woken up by a burrowing dog. I fell back to sleep. At 10:30, the dog again. I crated her. At 11 p.m. the phone rang. I realized at this point that H was in bed too and he answered the phone. He returns to bed and shortly after (I think it was after, could have been before the phone) T.D. begins to wail. Sigh........ H gets up and tends to her.

Then the most bizarre thing happened. No, I did not sleep peacefully for the rest of the night. That would have been bizarre at this point. Something in our house went off. H and I still have no idea what it was but regardless the quiet night time air was suddenly pierced by a high-pitch screetch of a noise. It literally made us jump right out of bed breathless and turn on the lights. H groaned loudly as I began to quake. The sound was gone. As quickly as it started it stopped. Was it a phone? The house alarm? A smoke detector with a bad battery? We just don't know. I do know that our house alarm sounds more like a Teradactyl is flying over your head and this more like a loud series of wailing beeps. H cleared the house from top to bottom and peered around outside. No security lighting went on either and the alarm was still set. Truly strange. We checked the smoke detectors, all systems go. I even made H check behind the shower curtain. I was really freaked.

Meanwhile both T.D. and Lex were sound alseep. Softly snoring away in their beds. I just wanted to grab T.D. and hold her but it was best not to disturb the sleeping baby.

Finally after about 45 minutes of lights on, listening to every strange noise, H convinced me to turn of my nightstand light and go to sleep. I made him switch sides of the bed with me though- now he's closest to the door and any errant criminial that is lurking in our house.

I fell asleep around 1 a.m., waking on an off, my body stiff with tension. At 4:30 a.m. my alarm clock went off. Time to start the day. I remembered then what H said as we drifted off to sleep only a few short hours before, "It's not like someone is plotting against us you know."

Oh really? Because I'm beginning to wonder. I think the slumberland fairies are on strike in my house.

Night Sounds

Chheeeeeepppppppp!

Cheeeeppp!


About three minutes go by.

Cheeeeeepp!

There it is again!

"What is that noise?" I say aloud in a whisper to no one in particular. It is 4 a.m. and the house is dark and silent. It was cool outside last night so we left the windows open.

It's not a cat or a bug. Must be a bird.

Eee eeeeee eeee ppp!

Ok! I'm awake now. The hell?! H is now also awake and grumbles to me, "Thanks a lot! Thanks for waking me up at 4 a.m.!"

"What is it?" I ask.

H: "It must be T.D. snoring."

Ummmm... ok. A baby that makes high pitch chirpy/muffled cry sounds. I begin to think of that email forward that cirulates about the serial killer who plays the crying baby noise outside windows in hopes of luring out unsuspecting female victims. Great! Now I'll never sleep.


H: "Close the window! Geez!!" Slams a pillow over his head and falls back asleep. The dog is snoring away. T.D. is sound asleep as well.

The windows are closed and I lay there unable to hear that desperate sound. That is what is sounded like. Desperate but the same over and over again.

Two hours later I am leaving my house. As I step outside on my front walk I hear IT again! EEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. This time it sounds more frantic and goes in much quicker fits and starts. It sounds like it's coming from across the street. It's either a wounded animal or my neighbors have someone in the trunk of their car.

It's dark and misty out and I continue to hear IT's urgent sound as I scurry to my car and hop inside. I lock the doors as I check the backseat. Nope, no serial killer with knife and rope in my back seat. My eyes dart around the outside of the car. Nope, nothing out there I can see.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppp!

Blah, Blah, Weekend crap Blah!

Last Friday dawned and it was a nice day outside if memory serves me correctly. How could it not be a nice day I was out of the freakin' hell hole that perversely is my job. I spent an inordinate amount of time at the gym relishing each burning squat and sweat bead. I quietly ran some errands and headed home. We packed. We headed out of our town and into the treacherous driving that was Ernesto. High winds rocked the Pathfinder, rain slicked the windows as tree and other assorted nature debris blew around us. I was chilled to the bone after one too many excursions out of the warm car. This is summer's last hurrah? How sad.

T.D. was content the whole time to snooze in full on dictator mode. Her little hands in balled fists. Her mouth protruding out in a puckered fashion that only deep baby sleep can produce. Her tiny despot brow furrowed. When she woke she was at Granny and Grandpa's house for a stay. She deemed their abode acceptable and we were free to leave with our weekend pass. Sweet freedom!

A weekend of just H and I. It would be like old times. We braved the mess of Ernesto again as we sallied forth towards Baltimore. Eesh. I do loathe that city. After this past weekend it's full on loathing. The wet and windy conditions, combined with frizzy hair, a clogged tub, a reeking hotel room, and I swear a slight case of food poisoning made for a delightful revisit to this old harbor city. Yick. The wedding was such an aside from everything else that came about that the major highlight of the trip was finding a decent pair of shoes at Nine West next to the hotel and H and I sitting right next to the University of Maryland's Women's basketball team. H kept asking me like a hyper active five year old if he could get his picture taken with them. I told him like a Mean Mommy, "No. Don't bother them. Let them eat their Cheesecake Factory in peace."

Tired, exhausted, dehydrated and queasy we left B'more on Sunday afternoon to head into 'the county' to pick up T.D. She of course had a grand time being showered with love and attention all weekend with a surprise visit by her uncle. She seemed very content when we picked her up. I found that I could not wait to get my hands on her.

Maybe for some women, and I have heard this rumor, having a child is an all at once all consuming love affair. It hasn't been that way for me. I was quite simply stunned when T.D. came into this world. I still look at her and hold her and think, "This is mine? How is that possible? Who said I was approved to have a kid?" I don't feel like a mother yet. Will I ever really? I keep waiting for that day to wake up and suddenly she's four and standing beside the bed saying, "Mommy, want rios (cheerios)." Or some other kid like thing. I love her there is no doubt. I love watching her sleep, accomplish new things and simply smile when I make her laugh. Even though one Mother's Day has come and gone I'm still waiting for that magic moment where I realize, "Oh yeah, I'm the Mom now."

Away we go!

H and I are taking a little trip this weekend. H's friend is getting married in the great ol' city of Baltimore. Not my fave city by far, especially with thunderstorms forcasted for the weekend, but it will be nice to be some place I haven't been in oh years.

T.D. is packed and ready to head to her grandparents and we get to sleep in for two whole days! I will miss the little bugger but we'll pick her up on Sunday. Her parents need the chance to throw out some bad dance moves and throw back a few. Her dictatorship has been in high spirits all week and lets hope that continues on her little visit to "the county".

Hope everyone has a great Labor Day weekend. Cheers!

P.S. I'll fill you in on some of my dastardly co-workers plots next week. Let's just say that I'm officially on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week now. I don't have a medical license either so this is not the norm. I've begun to look elsewhere for work. I hear Taco Bell is hiring. I might like working with Grade E meat better than carpeted walls.

Perfect Post Award

I nominated Diane's Rantings August 29 post a 'A Myriad of Sentiments' a Perfect Post Award. Good job Diane! Check out Suburban Turmoil to see more winners!