New Midlife Mommy

I'm Just Generally Pissed Off, I Guess

This is all just general whining . . . plus some miscellaneous.  DH says that I'm always pissed off about something.  Hmmm.  Maybe.  I think that it is a reflection of a passion for life.  But maybe I'm just bitchy.  No, I think it's passion.

Today, it took me THREE HOURS AND FIFTEEN MINUTES to get home.  Last week, during the last snow that we had, it was fifteen minutes more.  I would say that each time, DD was in the car for at least half of the allotted time.  To say that this pisses me off is an understatement.  However, DD's vocabulary was enriched, though not in a good way.

Last winter, I complained about the washing machine drain pipe freezing up every time the thermometer dipped below 20 degrees.  Our wonderful handyman fixed it for us so I no longer have to haul my laundry to the laundromat for weeks on end during the cold spells.  Long story, but I guess the "S" part of the pipe was buried in some dirt (it's in an area that we can't really get to from the rest of the basement).  He was able to raise it up, and it works like a charm.  Go, M!  He also added a couple of pipes coming off the furnace to heat the area to keep the drain pipe and the kitchen sink water lines from freezing.  But that meant that more air flow volume was taken away from the rest of the house.  So we decided that we would put an accelerator on the line that went upstairs, which most directly leads to our bedroom.  The net effect of this is that our bedroom is toasty, and the rest of the house is freezing.  Literally.  The windows in my office (soon to be DD's bedroom if I find the time) have ice on the lower part of the pane.  Have I mentioned, again, that I f*cking hate winter?  Of course, if we had any insulation, or more than single pane windows, it probably would help.

My cell phone company insists that my bank dishonored a check for insufficient funds.  The problem with this is that my on-line bank statement has no record that the check was ever presented, and my account balance on the date that they said the check was dishonored could have paid the bill more than twenty times over (and at no time has the balance ever dropped below a few hundred dollars).  This is the second time that they've done this to me.  The first time was back in March 2006, and that time they actually turned the phone off and charged me $20 to turn it back on, and $20 for a late fee (and my daughter was 18 months old at the time, and my mother was suffering from end-stage liver disease).  It took them MONTHS to refund the money.  This time, it was a $20 late fee or else they would shut it off.  You know, I'm guilty until proven innocent.  But I'm not allowed to send them a copy of my bank statement.  It must be a letter.  From my financial institution.  And it can't be mailed, because they won't give a street address.  No, it must be faxed.  And then I get to wait forever for a refund.  T-Mobile?  F*ck you.  This time, you can answer to the state attorney general and the FCC, because your actions certainly appear to be nothing less than consumer fraud.  May I suggest that you consider this fair warning if T-Mobile is your carrier?

Nothing much going on with the baby front.  We haven't heard anything about our donor's test results.  DH went in for his blood work and sperm evaluation.  I came today for "cultures." 

I had a long talk with the doctor about their forms, which neither my husband nor I remember signing the last time.  They talk about giving consent to enter a "program," which will require monitoring throughout the pregnancy and beyond.  Um, no thank you?  We are supposed to sign that we received "the legal statement," but no one has any idea where this statement is. 

We are also supposed to tell them the number of embryos that we want transferred, but we are kind of up in the air about that at the moment.  No more than two.  But maybe one, since the donor is only 27.  My doctor told me today that the risk of twins is about 14%, the same as when we did injections.  Ha!  We did injections for TWO YEARS and couldn't even get a singleton.  (I stupidly mentioned that to someone in the lounge today, and I could kick myself for doing it -- she was just starting down that road.  I wasn't trying to be hurtful, it was part of the flow of the conversation, but I should have shut the h*ll up.  I remember when I was that full of hope.  Sigh.)  But, he said that with two embryos transferred, there are 1.4 pregnancies on average.  And he also said that a lot of the time the patient wants to use her sister, who is usually close in age.  This tells me that the stats are probably higher when the donor is younger.  But, he insisted that no, it's about 14%.

And, we are supposed to check one of three boxes that instructs them what we want to do with the leftover embryos -- donate to another couple, donate for research, or destroy them.  I know that this is an emotionally charged issue, but DH and I are in complete agreement -- we would donate the embryos.  I would like an open arrangement; he wants anonymity.  (We never completely agree on anything.)  The nurse told DH if he checked the first box (donate to another couple), it would mean thousands more dollars in tests, so he should just pick one of the other two for now.  WTF?  If we don't have the tests done on the donor, then I don't think we can donate them under the new FDA regulations.  But I'm not an expert.  My concern is that our donor might not want to have any part of this after she's donated once (it is really pretty rigorous), and she might walk away and not want to be tested at some point in the future.  If it means the difference between being able to donate the embryos or not, then we should get the testing.  The doctor didn't know the answer, but he did say that the donor would be tested after donation.  He thought that met the requirements, but he said he'd let us know.

The doctor also thought that karyotyping was probably not worth the time.  He said that they only do it when a woman has three miscarriages or more, and then, only 2-3% of the time is there an abnormality.  It just gives them an idea of chromosome structure.  It doesn't tell them anything about specific diseases.  He said that our donor does not have a history of miscarriages in her family, so it is probably not an issue.  And it would slow things down by two-three weeks while we wait for the results.  He was in favor of the cystic fibrosis test.  He didn't think we needed any others.

I haven't described all the paperwork, which seems to go on forever.  Sometimes, I wonder what it is like to just have a bottle of wine, have sex, and then see two pink lines on a stick?  Without the paperwork. 

I guess I'll never know.

Clean As A Whistle

Well.  I'm scheduled for the "procedure."  You know, the procedure that they always recommend for people over 50?  Um, the one that involves lots of cleansing?  And starving?  Yeah, that one.

I'm not over 50, but two of my grandparents died of colon cancer in their 50's.  According to my doctor, that puts me at a higher risk than other people.  And it means that I need to get the "procedure" done earlier.  I think my brother had it done at 40.  I researched this as well, and it seems like the risk is higher if your parents, siblings, or children develop colon cancer; otherwise, the risk is no different than for anyone else.  So, I guess I beg to differ with my doctor, but what the heck.  I guess it's better to be safe than sorry.

Since I'm hoping to get pregnant soon, I figured that I would get all of the stuff like this out of the way.  There is no date right now for the FET, but I expect it will be soon.  I will have an artificial cycle start date, because I had a regular period in the middle of my pill cycle.  Haven't quite figured out how that happened, but I'm supposed to call five days after my last pill, which will be Tuesday.  I don't know where they will go from there.

So anyway.  Tomorrow is the day.  I'm having a virtual colonoscopy.  I just could not bring myself to do it the other way.  I just couldn't.  But the preparation is the same.  I am so very, very, very crabby right now.  I haven't had anything to eat since last night (clear liquids, broth, jello, and popsicles just don't do it for me).  My head aches, and this stuff that you have to take to "clear the decks" is awful.  I don't know why they don't prescribe an appetite suppressant for this as a matter of course.  I'll just bet that the President's doctor prescribed one for him for his colonoscopy on Saturday.

The virtual procedure is supposed to be fairly short and sweet, and I can carry on with my normal activities immediately after that.  Which, for me, will be eating a huge breakfast. 

Ugh.  I shouldn't have thought about food again.  This whole thing can't be over fast enough.

So Steamed I Could Cook Vegetables

I am so angry with my mother I could spit.  When we decided that we weren't going to take my daughter to my brother's house for Easter (so as to avoid the plague that had infested their house), I told my mother that we would pay for half of the dinner, but we didn't want any of the food.  I repeated this more than once, and I told my mother that DH and I had discussed this and were in agreement.  She was supposed to split the food with my brother's family -- since my SIL is forever whining about how they don't have any money, I'm sure they would have been quite pleased to take it.

Today, when I called her on my way home from work, she told me that she was packing the car and would be over shortly.  My parents live 50 miles away from me, my father is going to be 77 years old, and he has a hard time driving at night.  I told her not to do it, I didn't want the food, I didn't want them driving, and I didn't want them effing up our evening schedule (which is really kind of tight).  She insisted.  I told her that we have our family time between 6:00 and 7:00, and if they could be here to share the hour, then that would be OK.  However, I would really prefer it if they kept the food and didn't come at all, because we didn't want it!

After I got home, I called them.  They had barely started.  Apparently, my mother forgot DD's Easter candy, so she made my father turn around, drive back, and then get started again.  I was really angry at this point, and I told her to go back home and come back tomorrow when they could leave earlier.  She insisted on coming and said that she wouldn't come tomorrow.

So, they got here at around 6:55.  I made my father some coffee, because he was tired, and I let her know how much I did not appreciate what she'd done.  We didn't want the food, we have no place for it, no time to put it away, and I pointed out that what she was doing to my father (making him drive a 100 mile round trip and then some, especially when he has trouble driving when it gets dark) was grossly unfair.

She started to get weepy and went into the bathroom.  Which of course interfered with DH's shower.  Which pissed him off.  And then she got angry with my father for drinking a cup of coffee that I'd made him to help him stay awake for the drive home.

I figured out why I was so pissed of and told her -- in essence, she was treating me like a two year old.  She was going to decide what I wanted, and what was best for me.  Like I do for DD.  Except that I'm 47 years old and perfectly capable of deciding what I want and what I don't want.  If this were the first time that she'd done something like this, I probably wouldn't be so mad.  But it's not.  She ignores me all the time and tries to force me into doing things I don't want to do.

Ugh.  Mothers.  Can't live with them, can't live without them.

PSA

Have you heard about the new return policy at Toys 'R Us?  If you don't have a receipt, gift or otherwise, they will not allow you to exchange an item.  Apparently, this new policy went into effect last June.  On the other hand, Babies 'R Us, which is part of the same company, will allow you to exchange anything, any time, no problem.  They don't care if you have a receipt -- if you don't have one, you get a store credit.  No big deal.  We have literally spent thousands of dollars at Babies 'R Us, and we just love them.  I recommend them to everyone.  I've heard people complain that they are more expensive than other stores.  That hasn't been my experience, but they have told me they will price match on request if you do find better prices at other stores.

In any event, the return policy at Toys 'R Us wouldn't have been an issue for me, except that a friend of mine bought a doll for my daughter for Christmas.  We didn't have a chance to get together until last month, so we just received it.  The doll laughs, cries, slurps her bottle, snores, etc. when you touch certain areas of the doll's body.  The problem with the doll that we received is that it just didn't work.  I tried everything that the instructions said to try -- I changed the batteries, and I pressed the reset button until I was blue in the face.  Nothing.

I called the store and asked whether I could exchange it.  And I received an earful about their return policy.  My friend couldn't find her receipt.  As far as the store was concerned, we were just supposed to live with the non-functioning toy that they'd sold.  I guess it was just too bad as far as they were concerned.

So, I did something that I wouldn't normally do.  I went to the store, bought an identical doll, and next week I will return the defective one and ask for a refund.  It's a lot of effort, but I am really annoyed.  And I just don't understand the point of the policy.  Can you really increase your business by angering your clients?  Doubt it.  And, from what I've read, Babies 'R Us is extremely successful while Toys 'R Us is struggling.  They have really come a long way.  I remember not so long ago that if I or anyone I knew were going to buy a toy, the only place to go was Toys 'R Us.  That's not the case any longer.

All I can say is if and when the end comes, I won't even notice.  Because I really doubt I will ever go back there again.  Except to bring the bad toy back next week, of course.

Today Could Have Been Better

We had a beautiful couple of days, just enough to give everyone spring fever.  On Tuesday, it was almost 70.  Now, it's back in the 30s.  And there was a little snow on the ground this morning.  I'm so very tired of this, as I'm sure you are too.  Fortunately, it can't last much longer (right?  right?)

It was a totally sucky day at work.  I'd give details, but I don't think anyone cares, and it really isn't good to talk about work on the internet, as we all know.

And then.  The veterinarian called, and while my sick cat is responding to the steroid treatment we are giving her for what we hope is autoimmune disease, her kidney values have started going up and keep going higher.  No one quite seems to know why.  And, even though I have been giving her fluids (which involves sticking a needle under her skin), it hasn't helped.  So, she needs to be hospitalized so that they can give her I.V. fluids and see if they can bring the values down.  If not, she will die of kidney failure.  Total suckage.

DD was a total PITA this evening.  I don't know what the problem is.  We received a very glowing report in a parent/teacher conference that we had by telephone today.  Her teacher said that DD is a delight to have around, the other kids like her, she is doing well in all the areas that she was evaluated in, and she's ready to move up to the next classroom.  Very, very good stuff, so I guess she felt the need to balance things out at home.

For starters, she wouldn't get into her car seat.  She thought it was very funny to crawl over my console and get into the front seat.  I picked her up and put her in the car seat, which of course resulted in screaming.  Then, when we got home, I asked her to take of her coat.  She insisted that daddy would do it.  DH was upstairs at the time, so I told her we were going to do it now.  She refused, I took the coat off, and she screamed.

I told her that it was time to wash her hands, something that we do every single day as soon as we get home.  She screamed.  I picked her up and washed her hands for her (while she continued to scream).  At dinner, she threw her fork on the floor because she wanted a different color fork.  We told her that she threw the only fork she was going to get.  She screamed.  She asked for juice, and then threw the sippy on the floor.  We dumped the juice; she screamed.  Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Everything we did tonight involved some screaming.  Honestly, I don't think that her teachers would recognize her at home.  She is a completely different person.

I'm hoping that this was just one of those days.  And, fortunately, it's almost over.

Not Much Happening Here

Really.  There isn't much happening here.  We are agonizing over this latest winter blast.  When I looked at the thermometer this morning before going outside, it was one degree.  That's right.  One effing degree.  We've gone back to running our water at night time to keep the faucets from freezing.  Fortunately, we are going to have a warm up at the end of the week into the 40's.  It's about time.  It's March.  Winter can just get out of my face and move on to the southern hemisphere.

My parents recently came back from their long trip.  They'd left the second week of February, and they weren't supposed to come back until mid-March.  This trip involved two cruises that they were able to purchase at a deep discount.  They drove to the docking point, rather than taking a flight with the airlines on red alert, and they were going to take a leisurely drive back home over another week or so after the last cruise ended.

On the last day of their second cruise, my mother's legs became swollen, and she started having trouble breathing.  I guess her blood sugar was sky high (she's a diabetic, and she'd visited the midnight buffet and overindulged the evening before), she hadn't taken her additional water pill (that she's supposed to take for her liver disease but which she doesn't like to take because it makes her pee), and she was diagnosed with asthma and bronchitis.  They couldn't stabilize her, so they kicked her off the ship.

I didn't find out about this until that evening when my brother called me.  The only information that he'd learned from my mother's traveling partners was that she was hospitalized.  He didn't ask why.  He didn't ask where.  Fortunately, an internet search told me that there was only one hospital in the area, so I called it.  They told me that my mom had been discharged.  Of course, they wouldn't have told me why she was there, so I didn't even ask.

Apparently, my parents had to fly to the next (last) port and spend the night, because the ship left before my mother was discharged from the hospital.  They were there waiting when their traveling partners disembarked.  Of course, the traveling partners had no idea where the hell my parents were and had no idea that they would be there when they landed.  So, they were understandably a little panicky, especially since they were stuck with my parents' luggage and trying to move everything through customs.  I received a call at work asking if I knew what my parents' plans were.  Like anyone would bother to tell me (especially since I didn't get the call about the hospital!).  But, fortunately, it all worked out.  I guess my mother's illness scared them all, and they headed straight back home, arriving on Sunday. 

I'm glad.  I missed them.  And while I realize that my parents are adults, I didn't think the trip was a good idea.  It was just too long, and they were spending too much time in far away places.  I know, it's none of my business.  And I do want them to be able to go away if they want.  But I think that five weeks is a little over the top, especially when you are with other people in their late 70's, all with health problems. 

I probably worry too much, but they are the only parents I have.  And I do love them so.

I Never Get It Right

My mother and I have a difficult relationship.  Please don't get me wrong -- I think that she is a nice person, and I think the world of her.  It's just that we see the world differently.  And, as between the two of us, she thinks she is the better mother -- though she would never come out and say it.

She never breast fed (her mother convinced her she had "bad" milk).  She never co-slept (she still thinks I'm going to roll over and suffocate my child).  She started solids at four months (DD didn't start solids until she was eight months old).  She stayed at home (I work outside the home).  She also went to great lengths to make sure that we bought into the Santa myth (we're not sure that lying to DD is the right thing to do, even about this).  There's more.  Suffice it to say, our relationship is like that song -- "Anything you can do, I can do better.  I can do anything better than you."

But the latest just kills me.  I have been bragging about DD's accomplishments on the potty.  I also told her that when DD moves up to the next room at her school, she will have to stay there until she's potty trained.  And that's when my dear mother said, "well, aren't her classmates all trained?  She is two and a half.  She should be 'broken' by now."  Broken?  As in house broken?  Like a dog would be?

As a matter of fact, no one in DD's class is potty trained, thank you very much.  They are using the potty to differing degrees, but they still all wear diapers.  And they are all similar in age.

Personally, I think my mother practices revisionist history.  I don't believe that she was wonder mom when it came to potty training.  But until I can come up with proof to the contrary, I'm just going to have to grit my teeth and listen to her snarky comments.

Just needed to vent a little.  I know that I have a very special kid, and it's my job to help her find her way, in her own time. 

I Guess I Should Stop Complaining

THIS PICTURE WAS TAKEN WHEN

NIAGARA FALLS

WAS COMPLETELY FROZEN IN THE YEAR 1911

Not Much Going On Here

I know that I haven't posted for awhile, but eh?  Not much is going on here.  We a freezing our butts off in our old, cold house.  DH isn't turning the heat down during the day like he normally does, because the house just can't recover from it from the time in between when we get home and the time we go to bed.  The bedroom just turns into a refrigerator.  And, I expect that I might have to go to the local laundromat again this weekend because the pipes will still be frozen.  Fun all around.

Lately, I've been wondering a lot about other places to live.  Even DH has been complaining about how bad this winter is.  I know that we're spoiled, because the weather was so nice through December, but still.  I just hate this stuff.  I would like to live somewhere where I only need to keep a sweater around for the one or two cold days that happen a year.  Is there any place like that, I wonder?  Besides Hawaii, that is.

I think part of the reason why nothing has been interesting enough for me to write about is that I'm also in the middle of my annual winter doldrums.  We don't participate in any cold weather activities, so we are always confined to the house for the winter season.  Now that Christmas is over, there isn't anything to look forward to.  And, I've really started making an effort this week to drop some pounds, so I've given up my daily glass of wine.  It's just not as fun to talk with DH over a bottle of Fruit 2-0.

Something exciting almost happened tonight.  DD has gotten pretty regular with her poop -- she usually goes around 7:00 every night.  Tonight, she didn't go, so I assumed she was going to skip it.  (DH can go several days without pooping, despite our efforts.  It's normal for her.)  She actually asked to be put on the potty to try to poop!  That is the first time that's happened.  Normally, she just tells us "no, thanks" (well, actually, just the "no" part) when we see the poop grimace coming on.  Despite trying a little, we came up empty.  But I'm proud of her for trying.

I'll be back when something more exciting comes along to write about.  In the meantime, stay warm!

Just Counting My Blessings

I've mentioned before that we live in an old house.  The previous owners did a lot of things themselves, and some of them were not done very well.  For instance, these people should not have ever put up dry wall.  They just didn't know how to mud.  But we've learned to ignore most of the imperfections because we really do like the house overall.

But one thing that drives me freaking nuts about this house is that I can't do laundry when the weather gets really cold.  Something about the way that the piping is done downstairs, probably put in place by Mr. Amateur Handyman (as he is affectionately called by my husband), makes it impossible to drain water out of the washing machine when the outside temperature stays in the 20's for any period of time.

And today?  Well, today it was in the 20's.  The same as the last several days.  Of course, I had to repeatedly test the washing machine, which resulted in water spraying all over the kitchen (it doesn't go down the drain pipe -- when it's frozen down there, the water is forced back up to spray the wall.)  Fun all around.

At around 1:00, I gave up and went to the local laundromat.  I haven't been to one of these places since I was 19 and lived in a flat with a roommate.  It didn't disappoint.  Dingy, water-stained ceiling tiles, people looking like they would rather be anywhere else but there, and the smell of cigarette smoke.  Yes, this is one of the few places that you can still smoke, I guess.  Having quit several years ago, I was torn between hating the smell and wanting to join them.

The saddest part was seeing what looked to be a seven year old girl.  She got my attention when she started crying into a cell phone for her father.  Apparently, she really wanted to see him today, and he was having none of it.  Mom wasn't much nicer.  She repeatedly yelled at the girl to shut up and leave her alone.  I felt so sorry for her.  I'm sure that her parents had their problems, but it certainly wasn't the child's fault.  A little more kindness would have probably gone a long way.

I spent FIFTY quarters doing our laundry.  That was just to wash it, since we can still run the dryer at home.  And it certainly made me count my blessings.  At least I have somewhere to wash and dry my clothes most weeks, without having to save up my quarters just to accomplish the basic necessities. 

When I got home, DH dragged in the bags of wet laundry for me.  And he tested the washing machine again.  And wouldn't you know it?  The water drained out.  Had I waited, I wouldn't have had to go out into the snow and watch my laundry spin around in a strange machine for an hour and a half.  But I also wouldn't have had the chance to appreciate the things that I have, which I too often take for granted -- my intact marriage, my beautiful child, food in my belly, and a roof over my head.  So, I guess it was worth it.

TMI

(Female things discussed -- beware!)

I have been breastfeeding DD since she was born.  And, until recently, I was pumping twice a day at work.  There was a benefit to that, in that I didn't have any visits from "Aunt Flo."  None!  I was starting to feel strange about it, because everyone else on my listserv who had babies at the same time I did had already started back up, some quite soon after they gave birth, and even though many are still breast feeding as well.

As I've mentioned before, I stopped pumping at work after the start of the new year.  Ironically, DD's doctor told us that we could stop supplementing her with vitamins, since she is now getting her vitamin D from milk at school rather than being limited to my milk.  I say ironically, because I always thought that breast milk was the perfect food, ever changing to give babies everything they need, and toddlers the supplementation that they need.  But, I guess that's not completely true.  At least not in the winter time, with less sun to help the toddler's body to manufacture vitamin D.  Just an odd little fact.

Anyway.  Today, I had an interview for a job that I thought that I really wanted.  And guess who came to call this morning?  After three freaking years?  Um, yes.  Her.  With cramps.  Fortunately, the dam didn't overflow, as I expected it would, since it had been so long.  My timing is ever perfect, as always.

My long vacation is finally over.  Sigh.

Merry &%$* Christmas

I had today off, so I scheduled DD's holiday pictures for this morning.  I figured that she would be pretty fresh around 10:30, and we would have gotten our morning activities out of the way.  So that seemed like a good time to choose for the appointment.

Man oh man.  Actually arriving on time almost took an act of Congress.  By the time we figured out everything that we needed/wanted to do, along with travel time, we had to set our alarm clock for 7:30.  Fortunately, DD woke up at that time on her own, so that turned out OK.  After everyone got dressed, brushed teeth, put in pony tails (DD), and took showers (me), we went out to breakfast.  Then, back home to partially dress DD, and off we went.  After stopping for gas and Starbucks (or a reasonable simile thereof), we finally made it to the mall.

Of course, they were running late.  We arrived at around 10:15, just as the 10:15 appointment was signing in.  But of course, they were still working with the 10:00 appointment, who, even though everyone was backed up, had to try "just one more" outfit on her kid (who really was cute).  Fortunately, even though the mall was actually closed, they had the power on in a little area that had a small carousel and cars that DD could ride for $.50.  That kept everyone amused for a short time.

We changed DD into her little dress.  It was a beautiful velour Santa dress, trimmed in fur.  I remember buying it last year.  It is a really good dress, and I spent quite a bit for it (I didn't tell DH, of course).  DD was so cute!  She had on white tights and a new pair of black patent leather shoes.  Once we were ready, and the photographer was finally ready for us . . . DD started screaming and crying.  I thought that would be the end of it and we would have to reschedule.  Fortunately, the photographer had some bubbles, and she was able to coax DD out of her hissy fit.  We tried several backgrounds and props; DD refused to sit in anything, but the shots turned out OK. 

We spent somewhere around $120 for 120 Christmas cards.  They'll be cute, but it was quite a hassle to wait around to view them.  Not only was everyone ahead of us still hanging around to look at their pictures, they couldn't get to ours because people kept walking in from other shoots and trying to order.  DH was really annoyed, but the bonus in that was that I got to pick the shot while DD ran around and around the still empty mall, DH on her heels.

We went home, I did a couple of errands, and when I came back, DH had already put DD down for a nap.  She ended up sleeping for about three hours, not waking up until around 4:00.  There wasn't much time to enjoy the really beautiful day we had (60 degrees!), but we managed to go to the park, look at the animal statues at a local action house, and buy some cookies at the bakery.  Just as we got home, DH pulled up in the driveway and we had some family time.

As for tomorrow, it is back to the grind.  But, we couldn't have asked for a nicer weekend, weather-wise.  And any time away from work is always good.

Hope your weekend was just as wonderful.

Hey Carter's, Are You There?

Dear Carter's:

Did it ever occur to you that babies who are more than a year old would also like to have warm feet when they sleep?  Your sleepers are feetless after the 9-12 month size.  And, some babies (who shall remain nameless) are loathe to keep their socks on for any length of time without the help of superglue.

Thank you, that is all.

I HATE The Dentist

I had to go to the dentist on Saturday.  Or rather, the maxillofacial surgeon, to be more precise.  I have a dental implant due to a former dentist's screw up (and no, I didn't sue).  I am a procrastinator sometimes, and it's been quite awhile since the implant was put into place.  I've been trying to get the crown put on, but five visits later to a my regular dentist, and I'm back where I started.

So, they had to remove some gum tissue.  It was YUCKY.  I am the type of person who should be offered nitrous oxide in the waiting room -- I hate dentists that much.  And, it seems like whenever I go to this particular office, half of the people who show up are really sick.  This time was no exception.  Two couples were obviously bitten by some bug.  The female half of one of the couples kept moaning, coughing, and leaning on her husband -- and she even took her temperature a couple of times.  When they called her, she immediately straightened up and said she was just fine when asked how she was doing.  I HATE sitting in that waiting room.

Because it took so long for my appointment, DH brought DD into the waiting room to play while I was in the back (they had been taking a little nap in the car).  And when I came out, I saw that they were sitting in the germ-filled seats of the temperature-taking morons who couldn't call in sick for their appointment.  We used alcohol wipes later on, needless to say.

Anyway, DD made out like a bandit.  The receptionist gave her a little turtle, and a little purple bear.  She loves the turtle.  The bear?  Not so much.  But she is pronouncing the word "turtle" very well.  So, I go through the yucky dentist visit, and she gets the prize.  Not bad for a Saturday.