Archives for April 2012

And this is why I will survive the apocalypse. At least until my water runs out.

Whenever we finish a bottle of water I fill it with tap water. I was hoarding them in cabinets in the kitchen but Jesus started getting frustrated because they take up space and so he started dumping them. This would be okay if he at least RECYCLED the bottles he empties but no. He just throws them into the regular trash which makes me all panic-y.

Anyway, he kept throwing out my refilled bottles so I started hiding them all over the house, which really makes more sense anyway. I mean if anyone raids our house searching for supplies during a national disaster they will be harder to find. Win!

Here is a recent conversation between the two of us:

Jesus: What ARE these?

Me: What?

Jesus: All these pinche (pinche= Spanish F bomb) water bottles hidden all over the place?

Me: They’re supplies. In the event of national or global disaster.

Jesus: What kind of disaster?

Me: I don’t know. Nuclear Warfare. Zombie Apocalypse. Some kind of crazy disease that infects half the population like in Contagion. House cat taker over. All of the above.

Jesus: …….But you’re filling them with tap water.

Me: Duh.

Jesus: I don’t drink tap water.

Me: YOU WON’T BE PICKY DURING THE APOCALYPSE.

 

I’m seriously starting to doubt my husband’s survival skills.

 

 

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Protecting my home with a rolling pin, an angry cat and a fake dog.

Last night I was home alone with Bella. I was folding laundry and had just watched Law and Order SVU and was in the middle of an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, an episode in which a girl that was abducted when she was 6 and was kept as a sex slave for 12 years is found. I heard this faint creaking noise in my house and so I immediately silenced the TV and went into panic mode. I grabbed a giant rolling pin (I don’t know why, I guess I feel like I would be better at whacking someone in the head rather than stabbing them with a butcher knife) and started stomping around the house and flipping on lights. I started acting like Jesus was there and I wasn’t alone,  “HONEY, get the shot gun, someone is in the house!”  Then started babbling about how we had a pit bull named Lucifer and calling for him. “COME, LUCIFER. HERE, BOY. GET EM BOY. GET EM.”

My stomping and yelling woke the cat who came out of wherever he was hiding/sleeping and he started following me around hissing and flapping his tail. (If you knew my cat, this would totally make sense. He really is a mean bastard and I totally think he would go crazy on an aggressive stranger. WATCH OUT BURGLARS.)

I didn’t figure out where the creaking sound came from and figured it was the wind, causing some of the branches on a tree close to our master bedroom to scratch the window. Or I could have just imagined the sound all together because of the creepy scenarios on the shows I was watching. I turned all the lights back off and stopped yelling for my fake dog. This doesn’t mean that I stopped carrying around the rolling pin though. In fact, I carried it around with me so long I seem to have misplaced it. After that, I sat on the couch making mental notes that I need to get a shot gun. Or a taser. Or a shot gun with a taser attached to it. Does that exist? If not that would be a great idea. Someone needs to take that idea to Shark Tank.

Anyway, tonight I heard the same noise again. Since I couldn’t find the rolling pin, I grabbed a frying pan, our really big stainless steel one.

Shut up, it’s really heavy.

This time I decided not to shout for Lucifer the dog and instead tip toed around the house thinking if I found someone I could sneak up on them and knock their head of with that heavy frying pan. As I wandered down the hallway I noticed that the linen closet was open just a crack and suddenly, everything made sense. I opened the door all the way to find my cat getting comfy on a stack of towels. He had nudged the door open with his nose (it doesn’t shut right) to get in there and take a nice nap. He had been doing the same thing last night when I started yelling and stalking around the house. It had startled him, causing him to emerge from the closet and join me in my hunt.

I guess I need to chill out.

But I’m still getting that gun. And that taser. And maybe the dog.

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A pretty perfect day.

Bella and I had a pretty eventful day. Our weekends are usually full but most of the time I’m running errands and doing the grocery shopping and taking her to a playground. We always have fun, but today was BEYOND fun. I have decided from here on out, Saturdays will always involve an at home sensory activity. Hopefully I will remember to post about it.

Here is what we did today:

One of Bella’s Easter gifts was a homemade sensory tub. Next week I plan to break out another one similar to this one, which is going to be oh-so-cheap to make. This week’s tub was less than $20

All you need to make this is: a shallow container (I used Rubbermaid) , aquarium gravel, sea shells, and some fake aquarium grass. I already had most of these tub toys, except for the Nemo. I found him on sale at Target.

Bella LOVED it. I mean L-O-V-E-D it. She used her hands and dug around in there. She rearranged the items. She got out her beach toys and scooped out gravel with a shovel and then returned it to the tub, pouring back and forth. It went on for hours. It probably would have gone on for longer if I hadn’t made her stop to eat and nap.

I recommend that you put a towel or tarp down underneath the tub if you use it. About an hour in, Bella was spilling gravel out everywhere,which was awesome, because at first it was kind of bothering her that the gravel sometimes stuck to her hands when she touched it, but after awhile, she was over it. By the end of it, gravel was everywhere and she was stepping all over it and letting it stick to her and did not mind one little bit. Anyway, there was gravel all over the place so I was glad I could just pick up the towel and dump it back into the tub.

 

After sensory tub time was nap time for Bella. This gave me time to clean up the mess, relax, read, empty the diswasher and etc.

After nap time it was time for lunch, I made some bow tie pasta and added food coloring to the water while it was boiling to give it a fun kick.

 

Bella enjoyed the colorful pasta and decided she wanted to share it with “Moose”.

 

 

After that, we decided it was time to hunt Easter eggs. Last year, Bella had just turned one when Easter rolled around. She was walking and could look for eggs, she just didn’t really care to. This is the first year that she has actively looked for eggs in the yard AND been excited about it.

GET THAT EGG.

 

 

After the sensory tub and colorful pasta lunch and egg hunting, it was time for dinner with my parents. One of the servers was kind enough to bring Bella a balloon creation:

 

A few minutes later, that same server brought her something else:

 

IT'S A PENGUIN!

 

Unfortunately, my kid totally sucks when it comes to balloons because she insists on popping them. Usually with her teeth.

 

OM NOM NOM

 

 

 

Despite the balloon popping, it was still a perfect day. Can’t wait for next weekend.

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Underwear and Easter eggs.

The other day I got the laundry out of the dryer and had it siting in a basket on the coffee table. Bella immediately started digging through it, she always says, “It hot! It hot!” and proceeds to blow on it. She grabbed a pair of my underwear and I thought she was going to put it on her head or around her neck, like she usually does. Instead, she decided she was going to put them on the RIGHT way.

Yep. That is my child, trying to wear one of my thongs.

 

I apologize for the crappy quality of the photo. She was wiggling too much for me to get a good one. Eventually she gave up on trying to wear them and put them on someone else.

 

It's hard to see them, because they're white, but trust me. They're on my cat.

 

I think it’s pretty safe to say that there is some quality learnin’ going on in this household.

 

Tonight we dyed Easter eggs. I had to google “how to boil an egg.” I’m pretty sure my mom still tells a story about how my sister once had to call her and ask how to boil and egg and my mom found it hysterical. My sister was a teenager at the time she made that call. I am 27. But whatever, I don’t eat hard boiled eggs because they make me yarf and I haven’t dyed eggs since I was a kid and my grandmother took care of the “egg prep”. So there. Stop judging me.

Egg dying= success.

Yes I know my child is topless while dying eggs. I figured she would get the dye all over herself and I was right, she did. So she is dying eggs in her underwear. This post totally has an underwear theme, doesn’t it? I swear she is not dying eggs in one of my thongs though. So at least thats a plus.

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Chasing ducks, mysterious rashes and a “baby” in a swing.

It’s been too long between my posts again. I guess sometimes it’s hard to find things to say when my days pretty much consist of working and carting my kid around in an attempt to keep her entertained. Since Bella is pretty much the center of all that I do, thats what I’m going to talk about: what she’s been up to.

Now that the weather is warmer, I’m trying to take her out somewhere every day when I get off work. We’ve made it to a long list of parks and playgrounds over the last two weeks. Her favorite place to go is the lake so she can chase the ducks. I swear those ducks know her by now. When we pull up they are all hanging out in the parking lot, but when they see her emerge from the car, they all retreat back into the water. I don’t really care, I don’t want her touching those ducks anyway. Most of them look pretty haggard, like they have herpes or cancerous growths on their faces. But today we got to see a mama duck with 5 ducklings and the baby ducks were pretty darn cute. I spent about half an hour trying to catch one of the ducklings but the mama duck got all angry and hissy. Bella was disappointed. She wanted that duck to live in a duck pond in our backyard. Of course, our furry feline, Kitty, would probably catch and kill it because that seems to be what he’s into lately: killing things and leaving them on our front porch. He’s proud of his kills and gives them to as an offering. My fear is that one day Bella is going to trot out the front door and find one of his kills before I do and pick it up.

Last Saturday night Bella woke up at 1 AM crying and covered in a red rash that she was furiously scratching. We about took her to the emergency room but just as we were walking out the door I was like…hold on a second. Jesus was pretty irritated, he thought I was endangering the life of our child but by that point, she was still red and itchy but was acting fine. She was running around playing and asking for snacks and wanting to play with her blocks and watch Curious George. She didn’t have a fever, she wasn’t lethargic or unconsolable or vomiting. I realized that Jesus had turned off the air conditioning (we’ve had it on for a week or so now since it’s been so freaking hot outside- like we just skipped spring and went right on into summer) because it was cooler outside that night. Though it was cool outside, once he turned off the air, it was pretty darn hot in the house. I, myself was lounging around in my underwear. Bella was in her bed in her long sleeved jammies with her blankie. She was sweating. I figured it might be a heat rash and I say that because I get them a lot. I kind of get ALL rashes a lot. When I eat something weird, when I change detergents, when I’m in the presence of insulation….all the time. When I worked in restaurants I would sometimes get a rash on my arms when I walked into the kitchen because of the heat lamps. Looks like little Bella has inherited mommy’s sensitivity. Anyway, after stripping her down and giving her a cool bath, the rash went away within a matter of 10 or 15 minutes. We’ve been making sure to keep the air on now and let her sleep in short sleeved pajamas and shorts. On a side note, she is now wanting a bath at 1 AM every night.

The other night Bella wandered into the guest bedroom where I’m still storing a bunch of her baby items. I found her sitting in her old infant swing and told her to get out of it, her 30 pounds was going to break it. I told her that swing was for babies only and not for big girls. About 20 minutes later, she picked up a framed photo of herself in our living room. It was of her from around Halloween the year that she was about 9 months old. She pointed at it and said, “Baby?” I said, “Yes, thats you when you were a baby.” She looked at the photo again curiously and then wandered off down the hall. I followed her and found her in the guest bedroom, she had put the picture in the infant swing and was pushing it saying “Shhhhhh baby.” It’s so interesting to see the way that their minds work and the way that they are putting things together.

"baby" in a swing

That’s all that I have for tonight, but I’m sure there will be more stories that emerge as this week goes on.

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