Furniture shopping. Or, How to give my husband a heart attack.
September 2, 2011
For weeks and weeks I’ve been sitting on a wooden plank.
No.
I’m not a masochist.
I’m just large assed.
With enough weight to flatten a $300 couch’s cushions.
You really shouldn’t expect much of $300 couches, I know.
But!
My husband was trying to be frugal when he bought it.
And its ugliness has served him well for many years.
I’m just saying that when you sit down and get splinters, the thing’s gotta go.
That agreed upon, I set out to find something that my husband might actually buy and enjoy.
Think ugly. Very comfortable and very, very ugly.
Scratch that. I googled “ugly couches” to give you an idea of what I meant and am now humbled by the crap out there that people will rest their butts upon.
Surely ugliness that pronounced will rend a sort of fungus upon those who rest upon it?
Ahem. I digress.
Damn.
My entire train of thought derailed because people keep this in their house:
Gone are the days when I can visit the dollar store and walk out happily with a $1 plastic toy.
I don’t know when exactly I became the expensive adult that I am, only that when I look around, my toys are extensive. And expensive.
Recently my dear husband and I splurged on a new Canon camera.
A $1000 camera.
Very unlike the $200 camera I purchased on my own a few years ago.
Sure, we have the means.
And apparently had the opportunity.
Which is bad with us, because we are good at making the most of our opportunities.
And couldn’t even manage to leave the parking lot of the camera store to sleep on the decision.
But. That being said, we’ve made the most of our new toy and our ability to learn anything techy with enough time…
And have started getting ‘lifestyle’ shots that show our day to day activities much more clearly than our stupid iPhone cameras can.
Yes, this entire post was for posting Molly pictures.
So sue me.
Introducing Molly!
October 16, 2010
My 4D ultrasound was this morning – are those ever cool or what?!!?
When I was pregnant with Abbey they didn’t have anything like this – colored photos were the coolest new thing.
I’d love to have some from her, but she was there with me this morning to gaze at her sister.
And it’s like other ultrasounds in that it takes some getting used to before you really realize what you’re seeing, but it was wonderful.
Check her out!
Buyer’s remorse.
September 3, 2010
Let me just start by saying that they shouldn’t allow me in Best Buy until at least a week after I get paid.
And by they, I mean my husband.
And yes, I fully expect him to fly from Minneapolis and bar the door in order to prevent certain things from happening – like spiders and soap scum.
I bought $50 iPhone headphones.
I felt justified because my husband has the same exact pair, but now I have buyers remorse because they’re $50 HEADPHONES.
They go in my EARS, they don’t cure cancer!
And the little devil on my shoulder is waxing on about how I could have just bought the new iPhone (that my husband is going to buy me for our anniversary… the 1st is the iPhone anniversary) that comes with free headphones and saved myself -$200, but NOOOO.
And the headphones came about because I needed a car charger for my phone and something about the car charger made me need to spend money on my phone.
Because iPhones are such a gimmicky bit to own that they require their own blankets, pillows, food and shelter… all found at your handy dandy Best Buy in a handy dandy section that they line with quicksand.
But late last night, when I tucked in Mac Jr. into his pretty little blanket-lined nightstand drawer and turned out the light, I swear, though I didn’t have my glasses on to be sure, but I swear his little screen lit up with the words “Thank you, Mom.”
Maybe those headphones weren’t such a bad buy after all.
The scary thing about babies.
August 27, 2010
Besides the fact that they’re small.
Small and helpless and utterly reliant upon you for their every need.
Besides all of that, the scary thing about babies is shopping for them.
Yes. I’m serious. It’s terrifying.
Because there are so many things that come along with raising a baby.
Sure, you don’t NEED them, but life is so much easier with them – and what new parent doesn’t crave a little bit of easing in the level of difficulty of things?
Exactly.
Enter things like the Boppy.
The Boppy
Made for help with nursing and infant support, I can completely see the geniusness of this product.
Before the Boppy, mothers had to use regular rectangle pillows and who wants that?! No one. So, the Boppy was invented and life is good now.
Yes, I will own one of these. For many reasons, but also just because I like saying Boppy.
BOPpy.
bopPY
BOPPY.
You try it.
Also in the world of infant support comes the dark horse runner-up called the Bumpo.
It’s been deemed the runner-up because its name isn’t nearly as clever as Boppy.
Though it does start with a B and we’re very proud of the Bumpo people for continuing this tradition.
Yes, it’s that retarded looking.
AND the good news is that I will own one of these too.
If for no other reason than it comes in puke green and looks like a toddler fashioned it out of PlayDoh.
Yum. PlayDoh.
The list goes on and on.
Nipple pads, specialized pacifiers for different ages/abilities in their sucking months, teething toys, teething creams, strollers, stroller bags, stroller cup holders, swings, vibrating bouncing seats – it keeps going and going and going until I wonder WHERE other parents put all of this “necessary” stuff. I also have some pretty wild theories on how they pay for it.
Being an expert milker with my first daughter, the theories range from being security guards that squirt would-be criminals in the eye with breast milk to airline passengers that pay the new parents to sit further away from them on plane rides.
I’m overwhelmed.
And I’m not ashamed to admit it, because there seems to be no other logical response to the amazing hordes of crap needed to take care of a baby other THAN wide eyes and a slightly nervous gulp.
WHAT am I going to DO with a BABY?
Another steal
August 18, 2010
By a lady named Anna Bond, on a guest post for A Cup of Joe:
“”Love your other how they need to be loved, not how you need to be.” A friend told me this simple mantra, saying that it had transformed his parents’ marriage. It has stuck with me ever since. It makes so much sense and yet is so easy to forget because I think by nature we tend to be pretty selfish. Love is selfless, though, and what truly makes me happy is when my husband is happy. So, a key to a good marriage is trying your best to focus on what your significant other needs you to be to him, instead of what you want him to be to you.”
I want to remember this.
It seems profound.
Something to aspire to.
So. Profound and a little sad in some ways.
Hello black pot, I am black kettle. Care to cha cha?
August 13, 2010
Most humorous (clueless) random line found on today’s web readings?
A comment regarding Forever 21′s dubious worker practices… or regarding someone DEFENDING their dubious practices:
“hell, if i worked in a place that was a sweat shop, I would quit.”
::Bangs forehead into desk::
How liberating it must be to have the world at your feet – and the chance to take or leave any job you come across.
A bit more from the comment – not telling you where it came from, so don’t ask. The poor girl will grow up on her own with her own opinions and without me telling her she’s a child…
“ I could care less if forever 21 went under I could shop other places, but if their workers want to complain they can go find a better job somewhere else, and if they can’t, it’s no one’s fault but themselves… I Feel like if this is a true sweat shop, it wouldn’t even be allowed to be established in America…”
The entire post simply left me slack-jawed.
ETA:
She continued writing more comments later on:
“They don’t have to just settle for a sweat shop; there are plenty of other things. Maybe they are just good at sewing really fast and they enjoy it? you never know.”
WTF, mate?
The whole thing HAS to be a joke, right?
http://www.alreadypretty.com/2010/06/down-with-shame.html
“I have spent so long being ashamed of my cellulite, so long feeling like a mutant for getting five-o-clock shadow on my legs, so long convinced that my decidedly non-flat abs were an embarrassment. I have spent so much time and energy trying to measure up to the unattainable standard, tearing myself down for being different, consumed with the shame of being … well, a human woman.
And it dawned on me recently that a lot of the messages that cause women to internalize body hatred are shame-based. Shame is a slow-growing, timed-release kind of emotion that can linger in your system for ages. It’s a fantastic tool for lording undeserved power over people, or manipulating them into uncomfortable or unnatural action. Shame works on us like a virus, and can be just as hard to eradicate. Especially when it comes to messages about how bodies “should” be shaped, sized, and configured. Shame is what we feel about our bodies when someone else decides that they’re not good enough. And damn it, they’re ALWAYS good enough.
Bodies are natural, living, changing creatures and no two are alike. The differences in our bodies enable us to procreate and thrive as a species. The differences in our bodies define our life paths, our abilities, our choices and tastes. The differences in our bodies shape and mold us in infinite and untold ways. The differences in our bodies should never cause shame. They should be celebrated daily.
I can’t say I’m quite prepared to jiggle my cellulite in public or wear head-to-toe spandex, but I AM prepared to begin fighting my own feelings of shame. I’m a work in progress, and I’m working hard. When that sick feeling starts rising up, I remind myself that nothing my body does is shameful, nothing about how my body is formed is shameful, and nothing that my body will become will ever be shameful. And the more I pound out that message, the more I feel it, right down to my shame-free bones. So maybe someday, I will be prepared for a nice public cellulite jiggle …
Next time you feel that sick feeling rising up, fight it.
Never let anyone make you feel ashamed of your body for any reason.
Never.”
I almost cried reading that post.
I needed this more than I need oxygen today.
When I move to Minneapolis – IF I ever see this woman, I’m going to hug her for this post alone – though she deserves it for so many others.
And I really hope she doesn’t mind me posting all of this – I couldn’t post just part. I couldn’t.
What if one of you didn’t go to her site and read the whole thing? Every single woman I know needs this as much as I do.
Fierce.
May 14, 2010
Google is a winding path of sorts.
You start off at one subject and end up someplace completely unexpected.
Most of these journeys are fruitless, some teach you a little something.
I following a meandering Lish path not too long ago and ran across this gorgeous couple, Karen and Todd Andrews from Minneapolis.
The path leading me there is not important at the moment, but when I arrived there I ‘met’ 2 gorgeous people on CaringBridge – folks about my age (though a million times better looking), successful young people with a strong relationship with each other, supportive family and friends, and a really horseshit road to travel.
Todd’s got cancer.
And not just cancer, he’s got Cancer. With a capital C. But he’s also got a supportive wife, a supportive job, a good outlook and this willpower that keeps him going when the Cancer keeps trying to kick his ass.
Had this bastard disease not jumped him, he’d have beautiful kids and a long life ahead of him.
But the first has been rendered impossible biologically with the chemo treatments. The second is up in the air.
And his beautiful wife – she’s the one that gets to me the most. She’s sunny and sparkly and so fierce. I think she would literally kick Cancer’s ass if she could just get her hands on it. Just by sheer will. You can tell she’s one step away from screaming it out of him… dear heavens, I wish that would work, too.
Together they have taught me, without even realizing it – because they don’t know who the hell I am, a little bit about marriage and the unexpected and how it changes you – but not what your marriage is.
It’s a bigger word than I thought originally.
And they get up in the morning (or afternoon) when I’m not sure I could. And they go to the park and to baseball games and they keep LIVING because this damned cancer isn’t going to take that away from them if they can help it…
They’re just simply beautiful.
And I PRAY, so hard, that there is a treatment that can help Todd.
Life is so precious.
Learning can come from a very short amount of living as well.
February 26, 2010
I wrote a bit ago about Layla Grace and how she has touched my heart.
The amazing thing to me is not that she could, really, but that so many people feel the same way.
Following tweets regarding her lead you through big names like Kevin Smith, Ryan Seacrest, Jenny McCarthy and Lance Armstrong.
Amazing.
Amazing the power of this electronic world, that between blogs and tweets and facebook news of Layla has spread around the world.
Being a parent means that you want the absolute best for your children. You want to leave a legacy for them to remember. You want them to remain in good health. You want every happiness for them.
In this case, it’s Layla that’s leaving a legacy. Layla that will look down and wish her parents and sisters every happiness.
Her mom has said on her blog many times that Layla has accomplished so much in her short life - that obviously God had a plan for her.
And she’s right.
Because there are other people out there like me, people that find themselves waking up in the middle of the night to check twitter for updates. People with prayers on their lips and in their hearts. Even non-believers with fingers crossed and hopes and well wishes.
Before I never knew anything about childhood cancer. Now I know that there are strange names and strange cancers that I’ve never heard of whose victims make up such a small part of the cancer community.
But small isn’t less important. In any way.
These are cancers with small cure rates and long memories.
Small amounts of press and large amounts of suffered.
How many of you have walked a 5k in honor of Neuroblastoma recently? Exactly.
In the past few months I’ve read blogs and news articles and science bits and learned more than I ever wanted to know about the things that can twist and warp inside our bodies.
I’ve learned to value myself and my health more – a blessing I’ve been given that I take for granted.
And I’ve been growing this knot inside of me that says that my life needs to mean more.
You see?
Layla’s even leaving a legacy to me. A total stranger. A friend of a friend.
My life has changed for the better simply because she has existed.
I love her for that.
And wish like hell there was something I could do to make this easier on her family. But especially on her.
God bless her sweet little heart.
