Friday, August 29, 2008

VEEP

I'm not suggesting he picked her ONLY because she's a woman, but it's a pretty interesting trick just the same.

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Charities Are Beginning To Get on My Nerves

Well, that should get me some brownie points with karma, right?

About six months ago, I donated to a cystic fibrosis charity. As you may remember, Rolo was at risk for possibly having an atypical type of CF, but it seems he's fine and I was feeling like I should do something to pay it forward. So I donate. And since then I get another request via snail mail every week to donate more. Requests that come with packs return address stickers, personalized just for me. As if to say, "we made you these labels, now don't you want to make another donation". So I now have no fewer than 500 return address labels. Whatever.

But now, other charities have gotten wind of my charitable nature and I'm now getting literally 3 donation requests a week from all sorts of organizations. Breast cancer research. Diabetes. Alzheimer's. Lung cancer. And they all come with personalized return address labels. Or some other gift. Like a nickel. There's actually some charity that mails you a freakin' nickel in order to entice you to donate. Wha? YOU ARE A CHARITY. SAVE YOUR NICKELS!

Today from the cystic fibrosis people, I got a personalized notepad in a fall theme, along with, you guessed it, some fall-themed return address labels.

My question is, what to do with all this stuff? I mean I feel bad just tossing all these labels. It seems wasteful. But is it also wrong to use free stuff from a charity to which I'm never going to donate? And couldn't they just take all the money they'd save in printing all these labels and use that for their charity?

I'm going to use the notepad I received today. But that's only because I will eventually donate to CF again.

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Thursday, August 28, 2008

Shoot.

I love Haba toys. But I had a feeling it was only a matter of time before the
recalls started
. None of the ones Rolo has. Yet.

I still believe the toys are well made, but honestly, many do have small parts.

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Monday, August 25, 2008

Conversations

Me: So, I finally decided that I needed to track down all my pairs of gray sweatsocks that have gone missing. You know how I complain that I keep having fewer and fewer pairs? Well, I was finally down to almost none and thought "This is ridiculous, these socks can't all be eaten by the dryer."

Ron: And did you find them?

Me: I did. I did find them. Do you know where I found them?

Ron: Where?

Me: IN YOUR SOCK DRAWER! You have been ABSCONDING with my favorite socks! You're a thief.

Ron: We don't share a sock drawer?

Me: What?! You think we share a sock drawer?

Ron: I do. I did. I've always put your socks in there when I put away laundry. Since when do we not share a sock drawer?

Me: Since NEVER! What would make you think we shared a sock drawer?

Ron: I thought you told me we did.

Me: Didn't you think it was strange that there were never any of my socks in there?

Ron: Well. The gray socks were in there.

Me: Come over here so I can punch you in the face.

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Friday, August 22, 2008

Yeah, So....

I'm still here. Let's see, what's new? Rolo still cries every time I leave him at day care now. His teacher is nice but a moron. It's taking me about an hour every night to prep all his food for the following day. No one really comments on how long it takes to cut an entire day's worth of food into teeny, tiny pieces. It takes a long time.

I'm behind on laundry. And cleaning the apartment. Really behind. Like I think it's gone from "messy" to "dirty" for the first time ever. And I'm beginning to understand how people wind up on "Clean House".

Let's see, what else? Oh. I got my first Christmas card in the mail. It was from a seminary, and Father, please forgive me, but it's FREAKING AUGUST.

Technically, going on vacation in September for a few days. Still don't have a destination. Not so interested in finding one either. Too much laundry to do.

Work is busy. Very busy. With lots of details. That I can't seem to remember anymore. I write things down, but then I can't remember where I wrote them.

I believe this is the tip of what they refer to as "coming undone". It's an interesting place to be.

I need to set a schedule. The more disorganized I become, the more impossible it seems to crawl out from under it. Time to start organizing.

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Friday, August 15, 2008

This Just In....

Rolo found his penis and now he can't.stop.touching.it. Bath time, virtually the only time he's diaper-free for any period of time, has become like the set of a baby porno.

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True That

Bathing suits are scary.

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Monday, August 11, 2008

If You Don't Have Kids, This Post is Totally Worth Skipping Over

This morning, it sucked.

A couple of months ago, Rolo moved from the infant room at day care to the infant transition room. Actually, there's one big room with a divider and one side if the infant transition "room" and the other side is the young toddler "room". So anyway, today Rolo was scheduled to move from the infant transition to the young toddler side.

What a disaster.

When I brought him in this morning, there were only two other kids on the young toddler side and both were screaming their heads off. It was their first day too (one moved up from the infant transition side, like Rolo; the other one was brand new to daycare). The teacher looked strickened and appeared not to be equipped for more than one screaming child at a time.

Now my little guy likes his routine. Usually when we get to day care, I would plop him in one of the bucket seats (little chairs that are set into a table, functioning as a set of high chairs) and his teacher would start feeding him breakfast. But in the young toddler room, the kids just sit at teeny, tiny tables on teeny, tiny chairs. The teacher had no idea what he usually eats for breakfast. Hence, no real routine. Oh yeah, and there were those other two kids screaming. So Rolo decided to join in.

Now, the teacher looks completely overwhelmed, trying to get breakfast ready for Rolo and one other kid, and feed the other one who had been there awhile. Sensing she was ready to scream herself, I took Rolo over to look at some of the toys and he stopped crying. When his teacher cheerfully announced, "Okay Rolo, time for breakfast!" I brought him over to the table and sat him down in his teeny, tiny chair. Right around the same time, Rolo realized that this person I was leaving him with was not his infant transition room teacher and he decided right then and there that he did not enjoy this development AT ALL. And so more screaming ensued. I wished his teacher luck and walked out.

Only to realize when I was nearly out of the building that I left his lunchbox in the room and needed to go back in and get it. So I walk back in the room, hoping that Rolo was calmer. But no, there he was, open-mouthed and red-faced, sitting in his teeny tiny chair, wailing with oatmeal dripping from his chin. Tiny though they are, his feet don't touch the floor in those teeny, tiny chairs and so I think part of the problem was that he felt like he was "stuck". He has no idea how to get off a chair like that. By then, the second teacher was in the classroom and at least the kids were getting attention, even though they were up to 5 screaming kids by then.

It was the first time I left Rolo crying at day care and I'm sure there will be other days to come just like this. But it still sucks.

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Friday, August 08, 2008

What the Hell, John Edwards?

I'm rarely disappointed by the actions of political figures, usually because I expect nothing of them, but I sort of liked John Edwards. More importantly, I have a tremendous amount of respect for his wife. So, I am surprisinly disappointedly by this.

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Opening Ceremonies

So let me get this straight. President Bush is the first U.S. president to attend the Olympic opening ceremonies on forgein soil, but he didn't attend the opening ceremonies in Italy or Greece in 2004 and 2006 respectively. Instead he's attending the ceremonies in China.

China.

Awesome.

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Thursday, August 07, 2008

Pegging It

I tried to ignore this.

Good freakin' God, Katie! Get it together! I've seen at least 4 photos now, in 4 different outfits, all with the baggy, rolled jean action.

You must stop. Please. I'm begging you.

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Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Taking the Cake

So I wound up finding that dairy-free, egg-free cake mix I was talking about. It seems like if your kid has food allergies you have three options when it comes to baking:
1. make a cake from a specialty mix
2. make a cake from a vegan cake recipe
3. make a cake from one of your regular recipes, but using substitions

For Rolo's birthday cake, I tried out options 1 and 2. I had the necessary substitutions to try option 3, but by that point I was sort of caked-out.

I had the idea that I should bake a cake from scratch. I mean it was the little dude's birthday and hell, he deserves a homemade cake from scratch. I tried a vegan recipe. And it was edible. But it tasted a lot more like a corn muffin than a cake. Maybe that had something to do with the gallon of canola oil in the recipe.

I actually tried cake mix, from Cherrybrook Farms, first and it wasn't bad. Wasn't the best cake I'd ever had either, but it was fine. The accompanying dairy-free frosting was actually good. I used dairy-free margarine in both the frosting and the cake instead of regular margarine. So I surrendered on the "from scratch" idea and went with the mix.

Then Ron decided he wanted to decorate the cake with an Elmo (the theme for the party) and instead of buying a plastic Elmo, he came home with fondant, convinced that he could make an Elmo decoration instead. I totally laughed my ass off at that one. Ron? Fondant? I didn't think he even knew what fondant was.

I should know never to underestimate the man though, because he did indeed make an Elmo out of fondant. Two Elmos actually, one for the cake on Rolo's actual birthday, and one for the party the day after. Ron painstakingly cut out the shape of Elmo from a picture and colored it with frosting. I watched him, with his tongue sticking out as it is whenever he really concentrates on something, cutting, coloring, stepping back to admire his work, covered in powdered sugar. There is nothing that man would not do for that child.

The kicker? Rolo refused to go near either cake. We forgot to take it out of the fridge to let the icing warm on his birthday and so Rolo did not enjoy the feel of cold, hard frosting. And at his party, he was sort of overwhelmed and didn't want anything to do with the cake. So there aren't any pictures of him with cake and frosting all over his face and when I think about it, I could have just made a regular cake instead of killing myself trying to make an allergen-free one, since Rolo didn't eat any of it anyway. I could have been annoyed, but I'm not. The one real thing is that that kid could not be any more loved.

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Tuesday, August 05, 2008

12 Months

This past weekend couldn't have been more perfect. It didn't start out that way. I had taken off from work Friday and then at 11p.m. Thursday night, I got called into work for an emergency. Working overnight was so NOT part of my long-weekend plans. But by 2a.m. I was back in bed, so things weren't all that bad.

Friday morning we got up, sang "Happy Birthday" to Rolo, got ourselves ready and headed to the zoo. We spent a lot more time there than I expected, but the weather was gorgeous and Rolo was in a good mood. He seemed a little unsure of the lions, but the monkeys were a big hit. Sidenote: the Philadelphia Zoo has an "individual" membership that costs $54.00 and allows the member to bring in one guest free each time. Also, all kids under 2 are free. So basically, by becoming members, Ron, Rolo and I can visit the zoo as many times as we want the next year on an individual membership. Since an adult one day ticket is almost $18 and it's 12 bucks to park (member parking is free), it's a great deal. We definitely plan on going next month.

On Saturday, we hosted a first birthday party/barbeque at my parents' house, and all of Ron's family came, which is to say that there were more people in my parents' house on Saturday than there has been collectively over the last 16 years. There were 11 children, they all played nice and there were no incidents. Same goes for the adults. I got to see some of my girlfriends, which was great, and although Rolo refused to nap and was uncharacteristically unpleasant, he perked up at the presents. The rain held out and everyone seemed to have a great time, including my folks, which was nice.

I talked Ron into walking with Rolo and I the 14 blocks to church on Sunday morning, and the weather was gorgeous again. I played hookey from church (with the intention of attending the evening mass) so we could have brunch at Marathon on the Square. The service was as slow as molasses and they completely skimped on the hollandaise sauce on my eggs benedict, but I was so happy to be outside in low-humidity weather that I didn't even care. After heading home for a whole family nap, we took Rolo out to Franklin Square, where he enjoyed watching the merry-go-round and swinging on the baby swings. On the way home Ron and I made the spontaneous decision to grab an early dinner sitting outside again, enjoying the great weather. Seriously, I can't stop talking about the weather.

So there you have it: the perfect weekend. A perfect first birthday weekend.

I'm not all that sentimental about "one year". I think I had my he's-getting-so-big breakdown at 9 months.

He is getting so much bigger though. Rolo's quicker at crawling and cruising these days and although he's standing for longer periods of time without holding on, he's not any closer to walking. In fact he received two walkers for his birthday and I don't think he's quite sure what to do with either. On the other hand he loves climbing the stairs (supervised, of course).

We took Rolo to a boardwalk in N.J. last month and enjoyed his first carousel ride:

We also took him to the beach very briefly another day where he loved getting his hands in the sand, but didn't really seem to enjoy the ocean.

Rolo is big into clapping these days and will clap for just about anything or anyone. If I ask him to wave to someone, he claps instead; if I show him a book, he claps; when I ask him a question, his usual response is to clap; he claps when his father walks into the room; and he claps when he's finished dinner. There's much clappng.

One of the biggest developments is his food preferences. Just recently he decided that he's too old for baby food. He's gone through phases like this before, but usually they didn't last long and they usually involve vegetables. This is different. Regardless of whether he's hungry, he wants what anyone else is eating. He's been interested in what Ron and I were eating for months, but he never demanded it. On Sunday, actually, while out at dinner, we had a big eating accomplishment. Ron and I were both having sandwiches when Rolo decided he wanted some too. No, he did not want his Cheerios. No, he didn't want a bottle. No, no fruit either. He wanted fries, or excuse me, frites as they were called. And he wanted a burger. And if he did not have these things there would be much screaming. So for the first time, we fed him off our plates. I gave him pieces of my fries (much to my dismay, because didn't I just have a rant recently about not feeding your kids crap? should I feel better that these were frites and not fries?) and Ron broke off pieces of his cheeseburger (not from the cheese side), which Rolo ate with reckless abandon. I held my breath waiting for some sort of allergic reaction, but none came.

Rolo seems so much like a little boy now. It strikes as strange to call him a toddler, but that's what he is. I'm not sure that I'll continue doing monthly updates and recaps, but I will update you on his progress somewhat regularly, so stay tuned.

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Monday, August 04, 2008

This Just Gets More and More Interesting

You know, at the time Heath Ledger died, I thought one of the strangest parts of the story was that the person who found him called one of the Olsen twins before calling 911. But now that she's requesting immunity, it's stranger still.

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