A Moment's Pause

It is funny how no matter how hard I fight it, life seems to get so hectic. My father came in on Thursday, the AC went out on Friday, my stepdaughter left on Saturday, and my father left on Monday.

Mark will be one on Sunday. Aidan will three in two weeks.

I have been out of the work force for over three years now. I find that strange, but I cannot imagine it any other way. I was planning on having the baby and returning to work immediately. October first was my due date. July first I went into the hospital because I was contracting and things changed. I thought I was just going to get a shot of Terbutaline and everything would be fine. The nurse checked me, while chatting away, and her face fell. That moment was life altering for me.

The next thing I knew I was hooked up to IVs and magnesium sulfate was poured into my system. A little at first, then a little more and a little more. The contractions eased and there was a sense of relief. Well for everyone else. Tim went to work that morning and the waiting began. I saw St. Paul's firework display as colored shadows on my window. The mag sulfate made concentrating difficult and time slowed to a crawl.

A woman I know went into the hospital the very same night. We had the same due date. We also had very different outcomes. In September, I had a healthy baby boy. She had a baby girl that night; a year of hospitalizations, surgeries, procedures, and heartbreak. She has only memories. I have a healthy, headstrong little man. There are times when I forget how lucky we are. Thinking of Calla reminds me.

Nifty Trick

I just realized that you can tweak the search engines in Firefox's toolbar! I used to keep a tab open for Webster, but now it has been added to my toolbar.

Sweet.

I think this blog is going to find a new home. I just have to make a decision as to where.

In praise of Tim.

I have mentioned before that my husband is an electrician. I can only say that we all and most especially our budget, owe him so much for this weekend.

Late Friday night the air conditioning went out. He was able to quickly troubleshoot and identify the problem. Whoever installed our unit did a lousy job which was definitely not up to code. The house and unit are only five years old.

While Tim took Mikala to Myrtle Beach to meet her flight, my father and I shopped for a new motor. The gentleman at Brunson's Appliance Parts was quite helpful, although we were staggered by the cost of a simple motor and capacitor.

Mikala's flight was delayed three times for a total of 5 hours. Thanks Northwest! By the time Tim returned to the area, it was over ninety in the house. Thankfully, installation didn't take long.

I cannot imagine the cost had we been forced to call in an HVAC tech.

I think I'll keep him.

April Genealogy Meme

April has tagged me for a meme


1. Which famous person would you most like to learn that you are descended from? Francis Marion, I couldn't really explain why. I'd love to have authentic roots from here and I fondly remember learning about him in school.



2. Which famous person would you hate to learn that you are descended from? I'd like to believe that "blood doesn't tell," but if it does I'd have to stick Hitler.

3. If you could be ancestor to any living famous person, who would it be and why? This one is tough. I really can't think of anyone. This morning I'm having a hard time thinking of anyone famous I remotely admire.

4. If you could go back in time and meet any known ancestor(s) of yours, who would it be? I would love to see my paternal grandfather, our younger son was partially named for him. I don't remember him, he died when I was barely three. I remember his funeral and I know he was buried with a picture of me, but I would have liked to have known him.

5. Tag five others Ack, umm Margo, Connie, JanetLee, Jason, and of course BadBadIvy (new address, same badness.)

Interesting Coincidence

Without Googling, can you tell me the common theme between these three books.

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Devil On My Heels by Joyce McDonald

and
Tobacco Sticks by William Eliott Hazelgrove


Interestingly enough, I picked them at random from the library within the last two weeks. I did not read the blurbs as I had the kids and had to rely on the "grab and hope" method. Each of the book focuses on segregation. So far, my favorite has been The Secret Life of Bees, but I have yet to finish the third and it is compelling in its own way. I would like to note that I had avoided TSLofB because I had read the author's other book The Mermaid Chair and found it insipid. I guess that and many other reasons are why I am not a critic.

Millions Could Be Mine

Well, if I can find the right marketing guru.

I found a way to lose ten pounds in approximately four days.* I guess it is a given that it would not be marketed as a painfree method of weightloss. I suppose I could use the 'effortless' angle, as I did not try anything. I could also say, "Eat all you want!" as I certainly did not want anything.

Perhaps I'm just giddy with my first taste of caffeine, but the only slogans coming to mind are distasteful references to dysentery. As in, "Try The Third World's Best Kept Dietary Secret!"

At any rate, it's good to be back on my feet.


*I am well aware that I did not need to lose those ten pounds. I will welcome them back, as long as they promise to spread evenly and not argue with me about chocolate or coffee consumption.

Slacker Mom

I guess I asked for it. I ended up taking the weekend off. Saturday was partly intentional, but I came down with a stomach bug* in the afternoon.
I spent the rest of the day on the couch or in bed leaving the kid wrangling to Tim. Today has already shown much improvement; I can hold down water.

I've received an illustration of what I normally do in a day, becuase it hasn't been done and it shows.

The house is a wreck, but it's going to slide. It will be a day of cereal, frozen pizza, and whatever I can toss together for dinner. Days like today are when I miss having cable. Movies and naps are the only thing on the agenda and if my stepdaughter dares complain about being bored, well, she'll learn a lot about the art of housekeeping.


*Stomach bug is such a mild term.

King Street Photo Walk

Margo and I have been way overdue for some kid free time. We packed up our cameras and headed for the SCPG walk down King St. We met at the statue in Marion Square at 7am.

I learned a lot from the more experienced members about composition and just generally enjoyed the heck out of myself.

Here are some shots, I'll be putting the edited versions at http://cantalyssa.deviantart.com.

Bill Gates Quote

Admire or despise him, this is a fantastic quote.

http://www.sltrib.com/opinion/ci_4186925

Says Gates: "We need to put the power to prevent HIV in the hands of women. This is true whether the woman is a faithful married mother of small children or a sex worker trying to scrape out a living in a slum. No matter where she lives or what she does, a woman should never need her partner's permission to save her own life."

Hiding Out

A couple of weeks ago I began having nightmares. No, the bogeyman was not hiding in my closet. For the most part I would be performing normal tasks and step outside. I would look at a blue summer sky and see jet trails, hundreds of jet trails. Only, in my dream, they were not from planes. In my dream they were left by missiles and I was helpless. Death rained down from a crystalline blue sky.

I do not believe my dreams are prophetic, I do not think the end of the world has arrived. I do think I have paid too much attention to things far beyond my control. So, for just a little while I am tuning out. I am concentrating on what I can do*. For a week or two I'll be listening to books on CD when I clean the house. (Currently The Secret Life of Bees) I think I will tend to my own garden for a little while. A little introspection never hurt anyone.





*Obviously not simple plumbing.

Too much to ask?

As I posted, yesterday, I spent a long time trying to fix the (insert expletive of your choice here) toilet. It was well over an hour, not including clean up.

My husband came home from work and had it fixed in under a minute. I watched what he did. There was no difference in technique. I know I should be grateful that he fixed it so easily, "That's so great, thank you," and I was, outwardly.

However, deep inside I was shrieking in frustration, "That's not fair! I did the exact same thing, for twenty minutes. Then, I found that nasty drain snake, researched how to use it, and fought and wrestled with that putrid thing. You waltz in here plunge twice and ta-daa it works? You couldn't at least pretend to struggle with it?"

Someday I want to be the household hero.

There are days

There are days when home ownership bites the big one; those are the days the toilet is clogged and there is no manager or super to call.

So,I've done everything I know to do and it's still clogged. I even watched a video and attempted to snake it. I've since showered, scrubbed, and showered some more. I'm still skeeved. I have the feeling that one of the boys may have played a part and it's just going to have to wait until Tim gets home.

I really do not want to have to call Rotorooter.

Eew.

A Moment With Stepdaughter

I called up the stairs, "Hey, what are you doing?"
"Just playing."
"You have a choice, entertain the boys for twenty minutes or help clean."

The wise child chose entertaining the boys. I met her at the bottom of the stairs to hand off the baby. She came traipsing down wrapped in two striped beach towels and a cape made from a pillow sham.

I refrained from comment.

She calls from the playroom, "Of course I'm weird, it's in my genes!"

Grown up

I still have this fear of the "grown up." I don't know if it will ever go away. This fear doesn't seem to apply to issues concerning ethics or morals. No, it is only about the little transgressions.

Friday, Margo and I took the little ones to Gagdonalds.* My two year old can be a little unnerved by the giant habitrail. So, I kicked off my shoes and climbed on in.** Once I got over the hair and general stickiness, I had fun teaching him how to climb to reach the slide. The lady in charge of sweeping the play area caught me coming down the slide and I received a nasty look. Immediately I switched into child mode and was ready to put my shoes on and go home. Is this just some neurotic weirdness of my own creation? Do these feelings fade, or are they ingrained? I never want to lose a sense of fun, but I would not mind if the nagging "You're going to get in soooo much trouble" voice took a hike.





*As soon as it is no longer four hundred degrees in the shade, we will consider a change of venue. As it stands, we've been trying to get out of the house more.

**Yes, it's just as disgusting as one would assume. I disinfect the children as soon as we get home. Still, we had a nasty stomach bug rip through our house over the weekend.

I've Tried, But I Can't Resist

I've become involved with MOPS. We are in the process of starting a new chapter here in Moncks Corner. (If you want information, e-mail me.)

The other day I spent too long waiting at the deli counter in Bi-Lo. For those that don't know, the deli has an unobstructed view of the feminine product aisle.

With my apologies to MOPS, here is what I noticed:

Can I Blame The Heat?

I know I opened the medicine cabinet.

What I don't know is if I actually took the motrin or not.

I will know the answer in an hour or two.

It is nothing traumatic. It seems I have managed to torque my back, probably in aerobics. I'm considering paying a visit or twelve to the chiropractor. I am scared I will fall in love.

Rosemary Bread

I guess I'm on a food kick. I'm also trying out tags for the first time.




Rosemary Bread
2 hours 30 minutes (including rise)
1 Tablespoon yeast
1 Tablespoon sugar
1 Cup warm water
2 Cups bread flour + 1/4 - 1/2cup extra for kneading
1 Teaspoon table salt
2 Tablespoons rosemary
1 Tablespoon unsalted butter

Egg wash - 1 egg white + ~ 1 TBSP water

Place yeast, sugar and water in large bowl or food processor and allow mixture to become bubbly. Mix in 1 TBSP butter, salt, and 2 cups of flour. Add one tablespoon of the rosemary, chopped. Knead for about 10 minutes by hand or in a food processor for about 5 minutes until smooth and elastic. Add more flour if necessary. Place dough in an oiled bowl, cover with a towel. Allow the dough to rise in a warm place until doubled, about an hour.

Punch down dough and divide in half. Let dough rest about 5 minutes. Grease a baking pan or cookie sheet. Shape the dough into 2 small rounded oval loaves.

Sprinkle remaining 1 Tablespoon of rosemary over the loaves and press lightly into the surface. Let loaves rise again until doubled, about 45 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375° F. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, brushing with egg wash after 10 minutes. The bread is done when it produces a hollow sound when tapped on the bottom.

Food Porn
Recipe
Bread

Suessian Silliness With a Southern Twist

My two year old loves Dr. Seuss.

I had some baby spinach.

He asked for thirds.

I asked for hot sauce.

Where is the summer going?

Each time I turn around another week has slipped by. Later this month, we will be driving my stepdaughter to Myrtle Beach for her flight to Minnesota. We won't see her again until Christmas. It is strange how it can be so bittersweet. She's a good girl and can be nice company, but as a stepmother I often feel drained. I feel as though every choice, thought, and word will be rehashed and reexamined either by my mother-in-law or her biological mother. Both women are nice, it's my own neurotic quirk. My father passed on a gene for perfectionism and this is an area of life where blunders are frequent.

My husband works long hours. Just yesterday he realized how many recent weeks he's spent more than fifty-five hours at work.

Right now the days sometimes stretch long and lazy, but the evenings are a blur of dinner, clean up, baths, stories, and bedtime routines. I'm trying to remember to hang on and savor these days, as they won't come around again.

Who Knew

Did you know that September 9th is the second annual "World Naked Gardening Day*****?"

I didn't and probably could have lived a full and happy life without someone bestowing that knowledge upon me.

I somehow doubt many judges will be understanding.


****ADULT CONTENT WARNING --- contains nudity (surprised?)

Heel

Yesterday was one of those days where it was hard to get moving. I felt out of sorts, like something was missing. It wasn't the heat. I completely forgot about my stepdaughter's riding lesson. She never said a word. She didn't get ready.

Late in the evening, while visiting my mother, I realized what day it was and that I had forgotten the lesson completely.

I think my stepdaughter had spaced it as well and didn't want to admit it.

I still feel badly.

The Interview Aftermath

She wasn't an axe wielding maniac and there was no carnage. . .externally.

Internally, it felt like a train wreck. I did not care for the experience. I was incredibly uncomfortable and the further the interview went the more difficult it became. I think I expected the interview to be along the lines of a structured conversation and less like an oral exam. I tried to answer the questions, but while a lot of words came out, I'm sure I sounded like a moron. I guess at this point the best I can hope for is to have said nothing remotely interesting. Dan, you gave some fantastic advice, as did Windviel. I truly wish I'd had the chance to read it before the interview. Had I known it wasn't important to answer all the questions I probably would have said that many were irrelevant to my experience and probably would have felt less unsure of myself. I'll chalk it up to a learning experience.

Like you, Vera, I wasn't entirely thrilled. The journalist seemed nice enough, I just had a hard time with it. Many of the questions felt as though they were an entire topic unto themselves, I felt a lot of pressure to have concise answers. The whole experience just reenforced the feeling of being a lousy speaker.

I blog because here I can speak clearly. I can take my time and know the words I've chosen are right. I can mull questions over and most importantly I can, not that I always do, but I can proofread. It is in this format that I feel the most comfortable.

Today

Today I'm meeting with a reporter from The Post & Courier. She's doing an article on "blogging." The subject of the interview seems a little vague, but a friend assures me it's because she doesn't have enough information to pinpoint the direction her article will take.

Who wants to take bets on how quickly I can put my foot in my mouth? Five minutes? Ten? Regardless of how it goes, I felt the situation warranted a sitter and I get to escape for a couple of hours. That's worth public humiliation, right? We're meeting in neutral territory, just in case she's pretending to be a reporter and is actually an axe wielding psychopath who lures victims with their own narcissim.

This one is for the ladies

I figured I'd include a warning for the guys. This post contains references to feminine products, nothing worse than that.





I have a habit of shopping at the discount store, where the packaging is often bilingual; sometimes the results are amusing. Yesterday, I was in a rush and had all three kids with me. For those who have not experienced this particular joy in life, it certainly cuts down on one's ability to closely examine labels.

As it turns out, Kotex either has a marketing genuis or a moron working for their company. I purchased what I thought was the economy box of pads. Of course it couldn't be that simple. No, instead of extra pads the box contained a travel pack of Kleenex. I'm not sure if it's because most women use pads at some point and may not have experienced the joy that is Kleenex or if perhaps they sought to comfort me at potentially my weepiest moments.

I haven't decided whether I find the whole idea amusing or insulting.