school. poop. the usual.

Dudes.

It's been crazy around here. And I realized that I have precious little to blog about if I'm not talking about Jane or work. Even James hasn't been in any trouble lately (CUE: trouble, probably within the next 24 hours).

So Jane updates it is.

Jane just transferred from her 1-2 year old room to the 2-3 year old room at daycare - something that caused no shortage of upheaval in the house, from both her and me. She is so ready, and has already spent a considerable amount of time in her new classroom anyway, but STILL. She had to leave behind her (and MY) favorite teacher. And here's one for you - when I went to pick her up on her last day in that classroom on Friday, I walked in to see and hear her fave teacher kissing her and telling her she loved her. And her back was turned to me, so it wasn't even all staged because she saw me coming. My heart could not handle this. AT ALL. Her first day in her new class went fine and I'm hoping I'll love the new teachers as much. WE'LL SEE.

She also has been doing a nightly trick where she pulls off her diaper in the middle of the night, which culminated in a crusty poop EXTRAVAGANZA early Sunday morning that had me hightailing it to Babies R Us to get a nice zippable, buttonable sleeper. If that doesn't work, out comes the duct tape. Because seriously.

So yeah. That's what's going on over here. School drama, poop drama. And tomorrow is September. Fall. WTF? How did this happen?

so I got up on time.

And now for the exciting conclusion to my previous post - yes, I got up on time. I woke up at about 2:30 a.m. in a complete panic that I missed my alarm, and then proceeded to wake up every 10 minutes after that until 3:45 a.m. when I threw in the towel and got up five minutes early. I hit the wall at 1:30 p.m. and left work. I went to the library and then read a whole bunch of a book I'm reading for one of my book clubs, A Confederacy of Dunces. Have you read this? It's hysterical. And slightly insane. More than slightly. Anywho.

Tomorrow my department (such that it is) is going on a retreat that will take me far and away from my desk. Which is magnificent and lovely and all good things.

Hope you're having a good week.

early.

Tomorrow morning I have to be at work at 4:30 a.m. This usually happens once a year for a special event thingy we do every summer. FOUR THIRTY AYEM. This is 8 hours and 50 minutes from now. I just set my alarm for 3:50 a.m. (See, I am going to shower tonight and wear a hat tomorrow, cutting down my getting-ready time drastically.) (Of course my getting-ready time has already been drastically cut down after having Jane.) (Seriously - I guess I should just feel lucky that I shower every morning. Make that, my co-workers should feel lucky.) Anywho, I quadruple-checked my alarm clock and will do so again numerous times before I go to bed.

And speaking of going to bed. Despite the fact that I have fallen asleep before 9:30 for the past two nights, I can guarantee that I won't be able to fall asleep until at least 11 tonight. And then I will wake up. Repeatedly. Why? BECAUSE I WILL BE WORRIED ABOUT WAKING UP.

So by noon tomorrow, I should be a zombie-fied drooling disaster. I suppose it good this only happens once a year, huh? And the funniest thing is, I'm only really getting up an hour and ten minutes early. It's not that big of a deal. But think of me when you get up and go to work or start your day at a reasonable hour. Because I will probably think it's already lunchtime.

project: small joys

So, when you're working full time and you have a two-year-old, the drudgery of life sometimes seems like it has no end. When said two-year-old is treating bathtime like you are dipping her in boiling acid, it's easy to see why, by the end of the day, I'm feeling bruised and battered. It's go, go, go from 5 a.m. until bedtime - wiping butts, wiping noses, wiping up messes, cleaning the dog's ever-infected ears, cleaning up toys, doing laundry, yardwork, blah blah blah until you find yourself asking your spouse, "Where's the joy?"

Which is not to say there is no joy in my life. Quite the opposite. I just don't think I take the time to appreciate it, because I'm too preoccupied with what the next chore on the list is. It's not good. Sure, this is probably the most complicated and responsibility-laden portion of my life so far, but there's lots of positive stuff to appreciate. So I've decided to stop and smell the proverbial roses - to start this occasional series called "project: small joys." This isn't about the major, obvious joys - this is about the little things that make your day brighter. That you look forward to. That put a smile on your face.

And with that, my first small joy is Starbucks' Caramel Frappuccino Light. I have found an excuse to have one of these every day this week. I'm a wee bit obsessed. I also found myself getting pissed when the girl forgot to drizzle the caramel on the one I had on Wednesday - or was it Tuesday? Oh, it's so delicious and happy-making. Frappuccinos are one of the things that define summer for me - and summer is definitely here, what with the 90+ degree weather we've had for the past week.

Silly, I know. But it's a small joy. What's yours?

weekend. update.

Sorry that’s it’s been so quiet here this past week – I really don’t have much to talk about. Greg is basically recovered from his virus, but I’ve been feeling kinda crappy for most of the week. It’s been overall really quiet and – dare I say – boring around here. Which I know can be a good thing.

This weekend promises to be busy. Greg and I are actually going out alone tonight – to have dinner with real, adult-sized people – and leaving Jane with my niece, who is almost 14. I’m excited to have finally taken advantage of her as an official babysitter, versus begging my sisters, mother and mother-in-law to babysit. This just feels better, because we’re paying her, and I don’t feel guilty about asking, like I do with the others. Plus, it will be nice to go out and not have to hold my breath the entire time that Jane won’t lose her shit.

Tomorrow we are going out on the boat with some of my friends, and then tomorrow night I’m going to dinner and a show with Todd and Alan. Yes, you read that right – I’m going out TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW. And by “going out,” I don’t mean rehearsal! It’s amazing.

Sunday another friend of mine is coming over in the morning with her son, and then we are going to a birthday party in the afternoon. Like I said – it’s busy. I wish I felt better, and not so run down, but other than that, I’m psyched it’s Friday, particularly because there is no rain in the forecast for the weekend, which, if you live in the Northeast, you know is an early Christmas miracle.

What are you up to?

vacation day FAIL.

So today. My plan was to take today off as a vacation day and go to the beach. The forecast was gorgeous, and today was the last day of the calm before the storm at work.

What I didn't expect was for my self-proclaimed holiday to kick off at 1:30 a.m. with a trip to the emergency room. See, Greg has had a weird virus thingy all week - he's been in a ton of pain (muscles) and had a fever for a few days at the beginning of the week. He went to the doctor who diagnosed it as an upper respiratory infection and gave him an antibiotic. Even at the time, it seemed odd - Greg had no signs of any respiratory anything. On Wednesday he was still in a lot of pain, so he called his doctor again, who prescribed industrial strength Motrin, which did seem to help. But last night, he woke up in the middle of the night unable to move anything, and felt very lightheaded. So I woke Jane up, put her in the car, and off we went to the ER.

(a side note: check out this total mom thing I did. When I got Jane up, I made sure to change her shirt, put shoes on her and COMB HER HAIR. There was a large part of my brain that seriously was wondering whether Greg was having a heart attack or something, and in the meantime, I'm PRIMPING MY KID.)

I was completely freaked out. It's very unlike Greg to take middle-of-the-night trips to the hospital. I also had no idea what to do with Jane. Bring her in and pray she falls asleep in the stroller? But I didn't want to expose her to all of the germs. Plus I knew she'd never fall asleep. So I dropped Greg off and went home (we live very close to this hospital) to wait.

I can't tell you how much it sucked. I was so worried and I hated not being there. I was calling him every half hour to see what was going on, and I was so frustrated that they didn't even talk to him until 4 a.m. I wanted to be there to throw dirty looks at people, at least. When they finally saw him, they decided he was probably dehydrated (something I suspected earlier in the week), put him on fluids, did a chest x-ray and blood tests, and proceeded to ignore him for the next four hours.

I stayed awake the entire time, got Jane ready for daycare when she woke up, dropped her off and went off to the hospital. A doctor FINALLY came by to basically say "too bad, so sad, there's nothing we can do for you, go home and drink fluids and rest" - and in the meantime, Greg could barely stumble out of the hospital without falling down. So we came home, I forced him to drink a lot (of water, not alcohol, which would have made the situation a lot more entertaining than it actually was), and walk around to loosen up his muscles. He definitely got better throughout the day, but now he's back in bed. I'm hoping he doesn't have another night like last night. I can't have another night like last night. It was scary.

But wait! There's more! When I got Greg settled at home this morning, I let the dogs out. We have some guys clearing the lot in our backyard, and unbeknownst to us, the invisible fence line in our backyard was...clipped? broken? I'm not sure what the right word is, but it WASN'T WORKING.

I was heading out to do some chores when I realized young Jimmy hadn't come back in. I called him from the front. No Jimmy. I walked around the back and asked the guys working if they'd seen him. Sure enough, he had headed way out past the range of the invisible fence, about 15 minutes prior.

Well. I turned into a lunatic. I was screaming his name, shaking a box of treats, all the while having absolutely no idea if I was even close to heading in the right direction. The guys working in our yard were calling for him, the Connecticut Light and Power guys that were working in the area were looking for him...and THANK GOD I found his sorry ass down the road, frolicking (yes, frolicking) with another dog and two of my super-elderly neighbors. As soon as I saw him, I totally started crying. I mean, a girl can handle only so much drama on a couple of hours of sleep.

So there you have it. My fabulous, over-the-top, high drama vacation day FAIL.

this picture kills me

I have looked at this AP photo a number of times today, and it has made me tear up every single time. I simply cannot imagine how beyond ecstatic Euna Lee was to be reunited with her family and that little girl of hers.

control alt delete.

I've got a problem.

The first thing I do in the morning - even before I go out walking at 5:15 a.m. - is check my email. When I come home from work, the first thing I do is turn on my computer and screw around on the internet while I'm getting Jane's dinner and feeding the dogs and checking the mail and cleaning sippy cups and all of the other glamorous chores that comprise my evenings. This is after spending the bulk of the work day in front of the computer. At night I often half-watch TV with my laptop powered up. It's a problem. It's not cool. And I think it's an issue more and more of us have, as we travel around all day with CrackBerries and iPhones and whatever - in virtual contact with thousands of people, at the expense of actually making fully-committed connections with the people in front of us. I'm afraid Jane thinks my hands are glued to the keyboard.

I think it gives all of us a certain degree of attention deficit disorder. We are so overloaded all the time - ALL THE TIME - with messages and information and texts and blah blah blahhhh that just simply sitting there, having a conversation with someone, or watching TV without any distractions, feels like you're not using your time to its maximum potential - because, you know, checking FACEBOOK is so incredibly important. The most amazing thing is how relaxing it feels to just focus on one single activity, instead of juggling three things at the same time, with your eyeballs glued to an ever-present screen.

So I made a promise to myself to quit the computer crap before work and after work, only logging on after Jane goes to bed. I'm really going to try to just watch TV and not half-watch, half-surf. That's not relaxing, and I think on some level, it stresses me out. We don't let our brains calm down. It's making all of us crazy. At least, it's making me crazy.

Am I the only one who feels this way?

me. only better.

Wait...is this even possible?

Anyway, thanks for all of the suggestions on my previous post! Um. I guess I should just assume that everyone pretty much knows everything they would ever want to know about me. Maybe it's time to close up shop? Probably. For today, I will continue with my self-obsessed, narcissistic ways and talk EVEN MORE about myself. Me, me, me. With extra me!

Ten years ago this month, I began what was the biggest weight-loss process of my life. I've written about it before, but once a fat girl, always a fat girl (at least in the head - I am not saying I have a fat head). Ten years ago I was 25 years old and approximately 60 pounds heaver than I currently am. Through diet and exercise, I managed to lose 60 pounds. Then I gained back 10. Then I lost 20! I was at my super-skinniest when I got married, because the bridal stress was literally eating me alive. I got myself to a more reasonable weight (for me) (gained about 5 lbs) and maintained until I got pregnant, when I gained 30 lbs (totally reasonable weight gain for pregnancy). I lost 27 of those pounds, but having that baby shifted my whole body structure around so certain things are bigger and certain things are smaller than pre-pregnancy - even though I'm basically the same weight.

Whew! Anyway, the point is, here I am. Just about ten years later. Considering the only real time I gained was pregnancy, I think it's safe to say I maintained my weight loss fairly well. Also considering the fact that the vast majority of people who lose a lot of weight gain it all back or most of it back within five years, I'm pretty proud.

However.

I could stand to be healthier, overall. I've been feeling yuck on and off, as you know, and have been attributing it to things like stress and the way I eat and why don't I just go to a doctor I KNOW I KNOW. I decided this month I was going to really try to change how I eat. See, even though I am essentially eating and exercising the same way I did way back when I was 25, I'm not losing weight. And although I'm really not in the market to lose 60 pounds, I find it strange that by doing nearly the exact same thing, I'm getting nowhere near the same results. Goodbye, metabolism. I'll miss you.

So in celebration of this 10 year victory of mine, I'm declaring August my personal "get healthier" month. I will try to avoid the chocolate. And the vending machine at work. And Dunkin Donuts (that will be a tough one). Wish me luck!