On Elias, 14 Months (even though he's 15 months now)

I realized on Elias' 14 month birthday that I haven't written that promised "Elias is one year old" post. (Don't get too upset. I still haven't posted the report of our vacation. From September.) So, since it was just his 15 month birthday 2 days ago (Gah! Could I please catch up??), I am posting the pictures and unfinished post I was planning to share from last month, and I will update both kids' lives soon. So here you go. Elias, 14 months:

Elias has been growing and speeding around. He started walking, practiced for a week or so, then took a week off. Seriously, he only crawled. I thought something was wrong and thought about calling the doctor for a minute. He had a funny limp, and he would take 2 steps then collapse, and I got a little freaked out. But then a good friend told me sometimes their little legs and joints just get tired from so much activity and need a breather. And sure enough, he popped back up this week and hasn't spent hardly any time on his knees. He's even gotten so good that he doesn't have to just think about walking when he's walking. He can think about lots of other things and the walking just happens. He's pretty well balanced, and is working on running. (Mostly away from Kindred.) (Who seems to be pants-less in the following picture. How embarrassing. But don't be distracted. This post is about Elias. No commenting about bums.)

He is a total ham, and loves to entertain us.

His favorite thing for a while was to climb in here, after he'd emptied out the pots and pans onto the floor and into the playroom.

He learned this trick from his good friend, Kadence.

Yeah, you could say we like him...

It's Cyber Monday

Hey Cyber-Monday fans, there are some awesome deals here! Up to 70% off retail value!! I can't even believe it myself....

When It Rains, as they say

I'm not sure it's appropriate to go from a thankful post to a complaining one. If it is, then I am about to be inappropriate.

My neighbor, the one whose house recently caught on fire, told me that she genuinely believes that houses don't like getting new owners. That they feel abandoned and disliked by their previous owner, so they decide to sabotage the new owners. Sort of a teenage rebellion, but directed to the wrong party.

Our furnace is broken. Officially. So you think, great! Now the home warranty will cover getting you a new one. Well, yes, but only if it costs less than $1500 minus the cost of the repairs already done on the old one. So their cutting us a check for $1300, to use with whomever we choose. Now it gets tricky. I got a price quote from someone who knew I was in a tough spot. It's a holiday, then a weekend. It was 60F for two days, but today it's closer to 40F. Night gets down to 20F or lower. He can send somebody out on Monday. He has ordered my parts today. Great. Only I've had 2 other guys tell me since then that they could out in 2 heaters for the price I was quoted. A savings of at least $1500. But I would have to wait a little longer. And I would have to tell the other guy to hold off. So now what? So I knowingly get shammed but be OK with it because I am getting a check from the home warranty? Or do I wait and risk having my kids be cold for even longer to save some money? I know cold isn't really the worst thing. There are ways to be warm, and warm places to go. But there's the temptation to say, oh just do it, you've already made the commitment, take the bite. I hate being stupid about these things when I'm responsible for the decisions.

And then to top it off, my microwave shuts off when the light to the playroom gets turned on. But only sometimes. I was trying to heat my leftovers, of course, and I had to hurry so that I could get packed to visit my family while my kids "sleep", and I can't even freakin' heat my food because I can't get the microwave to turn on and stay on, which means that there is some sort of weirdness in the electrical system that won't let me run a light and an appliance at the same time! Call me crazy, but that feels like a major issue too. But we don't have the money for that one! The warranty won't cover it if it was installed incorrectly. Ugh.

OK, I'm done. And so is my food, heating in the oven. And I should pack.

Thanks for letting me get this all out. I was hoping that would make me feel better. But I just feel tired. Oh, and hungry.

*sigh*

What Are You Thankful For?

You Guys Gotta See This

There are some fabulous and amazing and wonderful things being offered in this online auction fundraiser. Many items can be sent to anywhere in the country, so take a look, no matter where you are, and bid away! The auction isn't like E*Bay-- you don't have to wait until the very last minute to bid on something to assure a win or get a good deal. Start the ball rolling and check back every so often. The auction ends December 6th, just in time for you to receive your winnings and give them away! (Not to mention that this supports a wonderful organization that helps kids develop their imaginations and collaborate successfully with others-- and helps other kids, like mine, eat.) Readers, fellow bloggers, lurkers, please spread the word about this auction. Link to my post, steal my banner, whatever you need to do. Happy bidding, and happier winning!

This just might be...

...the night my computer breathes its last. While working on it last night, I had to shut it down and restart four times. (Weird power flicker followed by screen wackiness followed by frozeness.) It is inevitable I suppose. This thing is old. It's a iMac G3, Tangerine. It was funky and awesome when we first got it; it went around the country with us. Then Michael moved on and got himself a fancy-pants laptop. But this old piece of plastic and complicated aging insides is still something I treasure, as it facilitates, often, my connection to the outside world. To lose it will be sad. I dream of technology upgrades, but the fact that we need a serious upgrade to our heating system-- which is working now, but claims a 50-60% efficiency rating-- probably trumps the computer.

(Brace for continued woes.)

Oh, and the electrical system upgrade. (I've been quite concerned about the infrequent popping noises coming from the lights. Fire is not remotely taken lightly by me nowadays.)

(Not done yet.)

Not to mention that I got my notice this morning that my health insurance was revoked as of the 15th.

So no new fancy-pants computer for me.

All this to say that if I disappear for an extended time, this might be the reason. Keep all fingers crossed.

For LL

Ads that reach out and, well, smack ya. Gotta love it.

(As a disclaimer, I will note that I am not a subscriber to Martha*Stewart*Living magazine. I blame the previous owners that I had to be exposed to this advertisement. But my friend, LL, who is an unapologetic reader of the magazine wrote a pretty funny letter to ol' Martha herself concerning this particular issue.)

Why It's Hard- Reason #118

This is pictures of my almost finished kitchen. It is very clean. I took a picture from various angles because I wasn't sure I would ever see it like that again.

And these are pictures of my children. When people said that having 2 children so close together was hard, especially when they were little, I thought it was because of mobility. It is hard to drag them everywhere because they can't get there on their own. That's true.

I've since discovered that it is also hard because, well, they are MESSY!

(Tomato soup and biscuits.)

(Brownie batter)

(In case you were ever wondering, yes, peanut butter will stick to your forehead. Bread too. I cannot say whether you will feel as happy about it as Elias does.)

Another One of Those Days

Today was a day in which I at one point wished that corporeal punishment was effective, just and reasonable. Because I would have used it to its greatest capacity with my kids today. Of course, now that I type that, I realize it was me that needed the beating. The kids weren't really that bad. It was a ridiculous day and I was feeling, well, violent. So I guess it's really good that I don't believe in hitting my kids as an acceptable form of punishment. I would have used it in the worst way. So, know that I did not lay hands on my children in a way that would have caused them pain, and I did not scream and go crazy. Once, I hit my own head against the side of the car in an effort to put the insanity at bay, and it worked, and I went inside the preschool and had chocolate milk and grapefruit while sitting in a tiny person chair and I felt much better when I left. Sure, I had a horrible phone meeting that lasted for a few hours this afternoon (that found me holding the phone to my ear lying on the couch with a pillow over my face) but then Elias and I went to the bank and the library, and that was good (until he started shrieking and we had to hurry out). Then we went to the grocery store, which I don't really like, but then ran into my neighbor whom I was happy to give a ride home.

When we arrived back at the house, I mentioned smelling gas again out by the sidewalk, like I had earlier that morning, only it was stronger this time, and before I knew it my neighbor had doused her cigarette and was on the phone with the gas company, yelling "Gas emergency!" into her cell phone. I hoped that the problem didn't have anything to do with the fact that my furnace is not working and went inside to change Elias, start dinner and head back out to pick up Michael and Kindred. While changing Elias' diaper, I heard sirens outside, and there were 2 fire trucks speeding up the block and firefolks running into a house across the street, hose and ladders out. My insides flipped out a little. There are 4 little kids in that house, and I panicked that something had happened to them until I saw the hoses and such, and then I freaked out a little more. The house was on fire?

Elias and I went out to investigate, and people on the block came running to me, announcing that the roof of the house was burning and the owners are out of town, so they rescued the dog but the cat won't come out and they don't know what to do. I hardly had time to process this when the gas man arrived and asked to go inside my basement to find the source of the leak. He found nothing in my house (whew) and concluded that something is wrong under the street, so they will be tearing into the pavement sometime in the middle of the night. (Great.)

When I went back outside and talked to more people, I realized that the burning house had had roofers working on it this past week, and they were the same roofers who "fixed' my house before we moved in. During the big storms last week, we had a bucket in the hallway to catch the drips under the skylight. I called them and left a message and they showed up last Monday unannounced and told me they would fix the problem in the next day or two if I gave them lunch. The whole encounter with them was so shady and uncomfortable that I didn't know what to do with it. I wanted the problem fixed, but I was fairly certain the one guy had been drinking and it was only 10am, and I wasn't sure I wanted him working on my roof. But I also wasn't completely sure I wanted to call someone else. These guys did certify the roof, so I wanted them to fix it. But I still felt weird. When they did show back up to do the job, asking if they could use my phone when the job was done because they'd forgotten their cell phone, Michael told them not to work today and come back another day because Elias had just fallen asleep. Thank goodness he had the balls to say that, because it is perfectly possible that they are the reason for the fire. (And you can imagine how comfortable I am with the idea of fire and water anywhere near my home at this point in my life. No-thank -you!)

Anyway, so I finally left and got Michael and Kindred, then I had to take Michael immediately to a board meeting. I hadn't had time to prep dinner, so I took the two boys out to eat at a small pizza shop. By myself. With no high chairs or booster seats. I ate pizza with one hand while holding Elias down with the other and popping pieces of pizza in his mouth while encouraging Kindred, who was across from us, to sit nicely and stop throwing things on the floor and eat all his pizza and stop squealing every time a trolley passed outside the window and stop licking the mirror next to his booth. Then this crazyman came into the pizza shop and told me he studied law and that I had every right to receive child support, was I being taken care of? Then he quoted a section of the book of Luke in Latin to the guys working behind the counter (who were Muslim) and talked non-stop about the pizza shop that used to be across the street that was really good. Then he told Kindred, on his way out, to listen to his mommy and stop yelling.

I drove home with the "Garbage truck song" blasting, hoping that I would have a way to drive down my street without being blocked my gas vans or fire trucks. The block was pretty quiet, so I came inside to start the bedtime battle. But amazingly enough, I put both boys down together for the second night in a row, and I haven't heard a peep since I left the room. An hour ago.

Excuse me a minute.

"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!???????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????!!!!"

So now I'm going to blow off working and hide away in the basement with my white russian friend and watch "broken flowers", or maybe a comedy.