The Mini-Bee is 10 weeks old today. He's been smiling all the time and cooing. He puts together a vowel and a consonent sound (ooh-ga, usually) and tries so hard to laugh - you can see it in his eyes when he's laughing - it won't be long before we hear him giggling. He hasn't rolled over yet but I think that has to do with the fact that he doesn't spend a lot of time on his tummy and hasn't developed those muscles. He's not a big fan of tummy time and I'm not a big fan of making him cry but we're working on it.
I have a job interview today. I'm nervous about this interview, more so than others I've been to. Does that mean that I want this job more than I want other jobs or does that mean it's been a long time between interviews and I'm just nervous about interviewing in general? I don't know. What I do know is that if I don't get a job soon I'm going to go bonkers. I'm in need of some adult conversation, some big people interaction. I find myself hanging out at Target, lingering in the laundry aisle, desperate to make conversation with random strangers.
No, not really. But it won't be long...
I should really lay off the coffee; I'm nervous enough as it is. If I keep up the coffee drinking I'll be Parkinson-ing my way through my meeting with my potential employer and then he won't want to hire me because I'm awesome, he'll hire me because I fulfill two minority categories - female and disabled AND I'm awesome.
The weekend was sort of a bust. The Bee and Mini-Bee and I went camping with the Bee's family. Again. For the second weekend in a row. And I was miserable. I couldn't sleep. I got attacked by a 12-pound mosquito and was surrounded by frogs and had a huge, sweaty, snoring Bee drooling on my shoulder in the 212% humidity all night. I didn't sleep at all. So Saturday morning I got up and declared that Mini-Bee and I were going home. I'd had enough. I was sweaty and itchy and frizzy and dirty and oh-so-tired. I was miserable and I was making people around me miserable and I wanted to go home. So we did. And you'd have thought I hauled off and kicked the Bee in the shins and broken his favorite toy given the look on his face. But he did have a good time, a much better time than he would have had with me there.
Pootie came home yesterday. I had to get him a new collar and it took an hour of scrubbing in the tub to get the kennel smell off of him, but he's home and seems to be happy. Is his attitude any better? Eh... He still doesn't listen for crap but he seems a little calmer; maybe that's what happens when you get your balls clipped off. (Poor guy.) When he first got home he was mad at me - he wouldn't come to me at all and wouldn't look at me in the bathtub. But I put his new collar on him and he's now my best bud. I missed that little wrinkly face.
I think I hear Mini-Bee waking up. The full-size Bee's almost sister-in-law is coming this morning to watch him while I go to my interview. I should probably get in the shower so I'm a little prepared when she gets here. I have a much better chance of getting a job if I don't smell like a foot.
Wish me luck.
Showing posts with label camping? i agreed to go camping?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label camping? i agreed to go camping?. Show all posts
13 July 2009
09 July 2009
Don't bother. This post is boring.
I can't sleep.
It's nearly 2 a.m. and I'm still awake. Yup, I'm still awake as in I haven't been to bed yet this evening. At this point, I'm trying to stay awake because Brodie generally wakes up around 2-2:15 to be changed and fed. And to fall asleep for 30 minutes would just be painful.
I hadn't blogged in a while, going on three weeks, and then I blogged the other night in a fit of self-pity. It wasn't pretty. It was so not pretty that I took it down the next morning. That post won't be coming back soon. It's not that I don't have time to blog; I do. It's not that I don't have things to talk about; I do. I just don't seem to have my words lately - nothing seems to flow like it used to. My conversation, in person and online, seems to gravitate towards the Mini Bee, and rightfully so, he's terrifically interesting. (At least I think so.) For those that aren't related to us, and probably for some that are related to us, that probably gets old. Hell, sometimes I think I've given all the Mini Bee related news and then I open my mouth and surprise myself with more.
A lot of that has to do with the fact that I'm currently home on what I'm still referring to as "maternity leave" even though that insinuates that I've only temporarily left somewhere, not left somewhere on a permanent vacation, which is a little closer to the truth. And being on "leave" is fantastic; I enjoy being home with Brodie. But let's face it - he's not much for conversation just yet. I talk ALL THE TIME and get no response. So when I'm around adults I find myself gabbing away. Sometimes I'll listen to what I'm saying and have no idea what's coming out of my mouth; I guess I get pretty excited over a little interaction among big people.
The point is that I could come here every day and bore you to death with the mundane details of life with a two-month old. Or I could post sporadically, when the urge strikes and I have something fabulous to say.
Unfortunately for you, dear reader, this post is neither. Because as I write it, and as I'm sure you read it, it's boring as poo. There is nothing fabulous occurring here. I admit it.
*Sigh.*
It's tough being mediocre. Good thing I don't have to experience that on a regular basis.
We're going camping this weekend. We consists of myself, the Bee, and the Mini Bee. We're heading to Lake Rathbun on Friday afternoon and we'll be home Sunday morning, the earlier the better. That boils down to about 40 hours of camping. I keep a mental countdown running at all times; it makes me feel better about the idea of sleeping in a tent.
This won't be our first camping trip this year. Last weekend we were at the lake for a couple of nights - the first night was great, I slept like a log and Brodie slept in the camper with the Bee's parents. About the time I got attacked by the tree frog in the shower house was when things started going downhill, at least for me. The Bee got pissy when everyone went to bed at 8:30 on Friday night and he realized that drinking alone in your campsite while your campmates sleep is actually pretty pathetic. Top that off with 18 hours of pouring rain and that makes for crabby campers all around, especially those that sleep in a tent. A leaky tent. More specifically, a tent with a leak directly above my forehead. Water torture, anyone?
Bueller? Bueller?
That's what I thought.
We're camping (again) with the Bee's family. His parents have a fifth-wheel trailer with air conditioning and a flat screen tv. If only they had wi-fi, it'd be perfect. But last weekend I sat in the camper, warming up something to eat and watching Regis and Kelly while sitting in the a/c and laughed at myself for calling that camping. I've stayed in hotels that weren't as nice.
But in exchange for this weekend's camping trip I have gained the Bee's word that we will be viewing the new Harry Potter flick next week, come hell or high water. I've seen every Harry Potter movie on opening day in the theatre - there were showings where I was not only the oldest in the room but also the tallest. And *yes* - I've read the books. And *yes* - I know how it's going to end. But I still want to see it. Consumerism in the flesh.
It's now 2:10 a.m. and not a peep from the Mini Bee. I think it would be stupid to wake him up but I know as soon as I drift off he'll start to whimper. Or, I'll sit here all night, waiting for him to wake up and it'll be one of those nights he sleeps all the way through.
Doh!
I'm hungry. But it's now officially Thursday and I don't eat on Thursdays until after chubby kids weigh-in and that's not for another 8 hours. I think I'll lie here, wait for the Mini Bee to wake up and think about waffles and peanut butter. And milk. And ice cream. OMG. I think I may starve.
It's nearly 2 a.m. and I'm still awake. Yup, I'm still awake as in I haven't been to bed yet this evening. At this point, I'm trying to stay awake because Brodie generally wakes up around 2-2:15 to be changed and fed. And to fall asleep for 30 minutes would just be painful.
I hadn't blogged in a while, going on three weeks, and then I blogged the other night in a fit of self-pity. It wasn't pretty. It was so not pretty that I took it down the next morning. That post won't be coming back soon. It's not that I don't have time to blog; I do. It's not that I don't have things to talk about; I do. I just don't seem to have my words lately - nothing seems to flow like it used to. My conversation, in person and online, seems to gravitate towards the Mini Bee, and rightfully so, he's terrifically interesting. (At least I think so.) For those that aren't related to us, and probably for some that are related to us, that probably gets old. Hell, sometimes I think I've given all the Mini Bee related news and then I open my mouth and surprise myself with more.
A lot of that has to do with the fact that I'm currently home on what I'm still referring to as "maternity leave" even though that insinuates that I've only temporarily left somewhere, not left somewhere on a permanent vacation, which is a little closer to the truth. And being on "leave" is fantastic; I enjoy being home with Brodie. But let's face it - he's not much for conversation just yet. I talk ALL THE TIME and get no response. So when I'm around adults I find myself gabbing away. Sometimes I'll listen to what I'm saying and have no idea what's coming out of my mouth; I guess I get pretty excited over a little interaction among big people.
The point is that I could come here every day and bore you to death with the mundane details of life with a two-month old. Or I could post sporadically, when the urge strikes and I have something fabulous to say.
Unfortunately for you, dear reader, this post is neither. Because as I write it, and as I'm sure you read it, it's boring as poo. There is nothing fabulous occurring here. I admit it.
*Sigh.*
It's tough being mediocre. Good thing I don't have to experience that on a regular basis.
We're going camping this weekend. We consists of myself, the Bee, and the Mini Bee. We're heading to Lake Rathbun on Friday afternoon and we'll be home Sunday morning, the earlier the better. That boils down to about 40 hours of camping. I keep a mental countdown running at all times; it makes me feel better about the idea of sleeping in a tent.
This won't be our first camping trip this year. Last weekend we were at the lake for a couple of nights - the first night was great, I slept like a log and Brodie slept in the camper with the Bee's parents. About the time I got attacked by the tree frog in the shower house was when things started going downhill, at least for me. The Bee got pissy when everyone went to bed at 8:30 on Friday night and he realized that drinking alone in your campsite while your campmates sleep is actually pretty pathetic. Top that off with 18 hours of pouring rain and that makes for crabby campers all around, especially those that sleep in a tent. A leaky tent. More specifically, a tent with a leak directly above my forehead. Water torture, anyone?
Bueller? Bueller?
That's what I thought.
We're camping (again) with the Bee's family. His parents have a fifth-wheel trailer with air conditioning and a flat screen tv. If only they had wi-fi, it'd be perfect. But last weekend I sat in the camper, warming up something to eat and watching Regis and Kelly while sitting in the a/c and laughed at myself for calling that camping. I've stayed in hotels that weren't as nice.
But in exchange for this weekend's camping trip I have gained the Bee's word that we will be viewing the new Harry Potter flick next week, come hell or high water. I've seen every Harry Potter movie on opening day in the theatre - there were showings where I was not only the oldest in the room but also the tallest. And *yes* - I've read the books. And *yes* - I know how it's going to end. But I still want to see it. Consumerism in the flesh.
It's now 2:10 a.m. and not a peep from the Mini Bee. I think it would be stupid to wake him up but I know as soon as I drift off he'll start to whimper. Or, I'll sit here all night, waiting for him to wake up and it'll be one of those nights he sleeps all the way through.
Doh!
I'm hungry. But it's now officially Thursday and I don't eat on Thursdays until after chubby kids weigh-in and that's not for another 8 hours. I think I'll lie here, wait for the Mini Bee to wake up and think about waffles and peanut butter. And milk. And ice cream. OMG. I think I may starve.
27 August 2008
your metaphor is digging into my cankles
have you seen that commercial? that old lady cracks me up. i don't really care about the wireless printer so much (as i sit here with a 35-foot ethernet cable draped across the entertainment center and the doggie kennels and the floor, up to the sofa where i blog) but the old lady in the commercial is hil-freakin-arious, folks.
it's some funny stuff.
my hands smelled like hot dogs all day and i couldn't figure out why. it was a long-ass day today at work; time couldn't go fast enough for me. i can tell you it wasn't much of a day for working - i finished two crossword puzzles and three sudokus while harassing the non-bill-paying bastards that are my customers.
"hi, is mrs. fill-in-the-blank there? hi, this is superjanel from giant conglomerate bank and i'm calling in regards to your -- hey, i think 28-down is "THE UN!" which, if you were completing the ny times crossword today, 28-down really was "the UN" - the clue being a n.y. country club.
tricky, tricky.
so since i've been home i've been watching the weather channel and all the coverage that tropical storm gustav brings with it. i made tuna casserole for dinner and ate broccoli and cauliflower and drank about a pitcher and a half of ice tea, i'm so very thirsty today. i cleaned house, did laundry, walked the pooties until they were tired (which is a long freaking haul, my friends) - it's been a productive evening. and that's how exciting my life has been today - how about yours?
i'm working my way towards a loooong weekend and generally i look forward to not working but the bee and i have turned a relaxing camping trip into a giant freaking circus production, much like we do with just about anything. first off, you have to realize that i haven't been camping in about 16 years. that's not a joke. the last time i went camping was with my entire family, before my parents split up and life got weird, each of us kids got to pick out our own cans of shasta soda (which was available in about 73 different flavors) and i wasn't afraid of large bodies of water or the shit that swims/floats/rots in it.
i can't say that those are my favorite memories - i was a snotty, bratty, shithead of a kid and i thought i was too good for all that jazz - but at least i can look back at them now and laugh.
ha.
so anyway. we're planning a camping trip. it started out as me and the bee and the puddies. then it was me and the bee and the puddies and his sister on saturday night. then it was me and the bee and the puddies and his sister and my brothers and my brother's girlfriend. now add about (what seems like) 12 belligerent alcoholic 23-year-old jack off guys - friends of the bee. to me, this sounds like a recipe for getting kicked out of a campground and/or arrested. to him, it's a raging good time and what camping is all about.
um, i think i'd rather get kicked out of an applebee's and call it good. let's take the tent back and just go eat dinner.
but it's not to be. instead i'll spend my holiday surrounded by assholes (i'm surrounded by assholes!) and eating hot dogs and sweating. a lot. (i didn't mean you, steph. you're not an asshole.)
good times.
oh well. at least i'll have the puddies.
i rented movies last night and haven't watched a one of them. i usually love scary/freaky/gory movies (what can i say, they've grown on me) and so i rented a couple weirdo looking ones. but i have to say, when i'm home alone, those things are far less funny and far more frightening. now obviously, i'm 28 and i'm old enough to know there's not a monster under my bed. BUT... as previously mentioned, i'm going camping this weekend and who's to say there's not crazy perverted psychopaths in the woods with machetes and axes, waiting to cut off my arms and legs and leave me flopping and squirting blood in the woods in the middle of the night? i mean, i'll be the chubby girl there - they always get clobbered first in the movies.
diet pills, stat! and some good running shoes, i won't be one of those biz-natches that's running around in the great outdoors in 8-inch hooker heels.
(ain't that a pretty picture?)
and why am i all alone, you may be asking? (and if you're not, too bad.) the bee is back on the road in waterloo - doing manly jobs and getting dirty and working long hours. when jobs like this come about i'm glad he doesn't have time to come home. he gets tired and whiny and jackassy and it's probably a good thing that there's 130 miles in between us - there's only room for one tired, whiny and jackassy baby in the house and i (as the elder and the girl) take priority.
neener, neener, neener...
i'm putting the puddies in their houses and going to bed. i'm pooped. peas out.
it's some funny stuff.
my hands smelled like hot dogs all day and i couldn't figure out why. it was a long-ass day today at work; time couldn't go fast enough for me. i can tell you it wasn't much of a day for working - i finished two crossword puzzles and three sudokus while harassing the non-bill-paying bastards that are my customers.
"hi, is mrs. fill-in-the-blank there? hi, this is superjanel from giant conglomerate bank and i'm calling in regards to your -- hey, i think 28-down is "THE UN!" which, if you were completing the ny times crossword today, 28-down really was "the UN" - the clue being a n.y. country club.
tricky, tricky.
so since i've been home i've been watching the weather channel and all the coverage that tropical storm gustav brings with it. i made tuna casserole for dinner and ate broccoli and cauliflower and drank about a pitcher and a half of ice tea, i'm so very thirsty today. i cleaned house, did laundry, walked the pooties until they were tired (which is a long freaking haul, my friends) - it's been a productive evening. and that's how exciting my life has been today - how about yours?
i'm working my way towards a loooong weekend and generally i look forward to not working but the bee and i have turned a relaxing camping trip into a giant freaking circus production, much like we do with just about anything. first off, you have to realize that i haven't been camping in about 16 years. that's not a joke. the last time i went camping was with my entire family, before my parents split up and life got weird, each of us kids got to pick out our own cans of shasta soda (which was available in about 73 different flavors) and i wasn't afraid of large bodies of water or the shit that swims/floats/rots in it.
i can't say that those are my favorite memories - i was a snotty, bratty, shithead of a kid and i thought i was too good for all that jazz - but at least i can look back at them now and laugh.
ha.
so anyway. we're planning a camping trip. it started out as me and the bee and the puddies. then it was me and the bee and the puddies and his sister on saturday night. then it was me and the bee and the puddies and his sister and my brothers and my brother's girlfriend. now add about (what seems like) 12 belligerent alcoholic 23-year-old jack off guys - friends of the bee. to me, this sounds like a recipe for getting kicked out of a campground and/or arrested. to him, it's a raging good time and what camping is all about.
um, i think i'd rather get kicked out of an applebee's and call it good. let's take the tent back and just go eat dinner.
but it's not to be. instead i'll spend my holiday surrounded by assholes (i'm surrounded by assholes!) and eating hot dogs and sweating. a lot. (i didn't mean you, steph. you're not an asshole.)
good times.
oh well. at least i'll have the puddies.
i rented movies last night and haven't watched a one of them. i usually love scary/freaky/gory movies (what can i say, they've grown on me) and so i rented a couple weirdo looking ones. but i have to say, when i'm home alone, those things are far less funny and far more frightening. now obviously, i'm 28 and i'm old enough to know there's not a monster under my bed. BUT... as previously mentioned, i'm going camping this weekend and who's to say there's not crazy perverted psychopaths in the woods with machetes and axes, waiting to cut off my arms and legs and leave me flopping and squirting blood in the woods in the middle of the night? i mean, i'll be the chubby girl there - they always get clobbered first in the movies.
diet pills, stat! and some good running shoes, i won't be one of those biz-natches that's running around in the great outdoors in 8-inch hooker heels.
(ain't that a pretty picture?)
and why am i all alone, you may be asking? (and if you're not, too bad.) the bee is back on the road in waterloo - doing manly jobs and getting dirty and working long hours. when jobs like this come about i'm glad he doesn't have time to come home. he gets tired and whiny and jackassy and it's probably a good thing that there's 130 miles in between us - there's only room for one tired, whiny and jackassy baby in the house and i (as the elder and the girl) take priority.
neener, neener, neener...
i'm putting the puddies in their houses and going to bed. i'm pooped. peas out.
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