The past week of 90 degree highs confirms that summer has a firm grip on Florida and will not be letting go for a few very long months.
Summertime means park time and park time means I am once again reminded that I am not from around here.
Silas and I were playing near the slides when another group of kids showed up. Silas's go-to friendship gesture is to grab a big handful of wood chips and bring them to the new people.
One of the older boys, perhaps about ten, looked at me and asked, "What is he doing?"
"He's trying to share some wood chips with you," I responded as I brushed the chips out of Silas's hand, telling him that not everyone wants to hold onto wood chips.
"What are woodchips?" the boy asked next, and I blinked, so he clarified. "You mean the mulch?"
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "Wood chips are another name for mulch."
What I didn't say is that where I came from, the term "mulch" was much more closely related to fertilizer as a term. And to be clear, when I say fertilizer, I'm thinking of manure. Feces. You know? Yuck. I thought about how I had never heard "mulch" used in conjunction with a playground growing up. And then I remembered something that had happened several months ago.
A friend had taken Silas to the park while I was taking an exam. Later, when I picked him up, she apologized. "He only wanted to sit down in the mulch and play! Luckily, they had just put down clean mulch, if that helps."
I had been slightly confused, wondering what the definition of clean manure meant. I trusted her judgement and figured Silas had not been harmed. I joked about how he'd have to build his immune system some day. Then I went on with my life completely unaware that I had experienced a communication error until just now.
Showing posts with label a surprise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label a surprise. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Monday, March 17, 2014
Babies Learning Language
It is ridiculous how many curse words a baby knows these days.
Silas learned how to say "foxes," for example. The first twenty times, it sounded much more like he was dropping F bombs left and right (and up and down for good measure). He kept pointing to the fox on the shirt he was wearing each time he said it, which helped calm my frazzled nerves. I figured if anyone in public heard him, I could quickly clear up any confusion.
Then Silas learned how to say "cook." Only, it sounded like he was crudely referencing the male genitalia. He tried to mimic me stirring a pot on the stove, though, and eventually his pronunciation got better.
Shirt was another tough one. Silas was more than happy to hand me any of his t-shirts or onesies while dropping the "r" in the word. (This, too, has gotten better over time.)
I think learning to talk is a cruel prank sometimes. On the one hand, when Silas busts out a perfectly innocent swear, I want to laugh because it is cute and adorable that he has no clue what he is doing. On the other hand, toddlers thrive on making others laugh and while the swearing child on TV might be hilarious, I don't think it's as funny in real life.
Luckily, when I type about it on the internet, I can laugh as much as I want and he doesn't know. Then he only thinks I'm crazy. Which may or may not be a good trade off.
Silas learned how to say "foxes," for example. The first twenty times, it sounded much more like he was dropping F bombs left and right (and up and down for good measure). He kept pointing to the fox on the shirt he was wearing each time he said it, which helped calm my frazzled nerves. I figured if anyone in public heard him, I could quickly clear up any confusion.
Then Silas learned how to say "cook." Only, it sounded like he was crudely referencing the male genitalia. He tried to mimic me stirring a pot on the stove, though, and eventually his pronunciation got better.
Shirt was another tough one. Silas was more than happy to hand me any of his t-shirts or onesies while dropping the "r" in the word. (This, too, has gotten better over time.)
I think learning to talk is a cruel prank sometimes. On the one hand, when Silas busts out a perfectly innocent swear, I want to laugh because it is cute and adorable that he has no clue what he is doing. On the other hand, toddlers thrive on making others laugh and while the swearing child on TV might be hilarious, I don't think it's as funny in real life.
Luckily, when I type about it on the internet, I can laugh as much as I want and he doesn't know. Then he only thinks I'm crazy. Which may or may not be a good trade off.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Things My Baby Has Found At The Park
I need to start taking pictures to document this. I always thought that the park was fairly clean until Silas took to finding things.
The last time we were there, Silas found:
Half-eaten cheetos (they were half-eaten at the time of finding and we threw those out before they became fully eaten cheetos)
Pink and blue balloon shreds
One super moldy orange slice (Half hidden beneath a slide, I can only assume a thrifty child left it there for safekeeping)
A safety pin
A beer cap (budweiser. Yuck.)
Various candy wrappers (manufacturers, rest assured that you have designed packages so appealing that Silas can spot them even if they are 99% buried under leaves)
And my personal "favorite,"
A two-inch screw.
Everything else on my list makes sense. Those are things that people bring to parks. But a screw?
The last time we were there, Silas found:
Half-eaten cheetos (they were half-eaten at the time of finding and we threw those out before they became fully eaten cheetos)
Pink and blue balloon shreds
One super moldy orange slice (Half hidden beneath a slide, I can only assume a thrifty child left it there for safekeeping)
A safety pin
A beer cap (budweiser. Yuck.)
Various candy wrappers (manufacturers, rest assured that you have designed packages so appealing that Silas can spot them even if they are 99% buried under leaves)
And my personal "favorite,"
A two-inch screw.
Everything else on my list makes sense. Those are things that people bring to parks. But a screw?
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Silas is now sleeping through the night. Probably.
About 12 out of the last 15 nights, Silas has slept through the night. I guess his "sleep through the night" switch was flipped, though I couldn't tell you how or what did it. He turned 17 months old last week, so it's been a long time coming. I don't know if 15 days is long enough to become retrospective, but again - almost 17 months of waking up three to infinity times a night means the last two weeks of good sleep feels like forever (in a good way).
The switch is leaving me with a lot of mixed feelings on baby sleep. Seventeen months is a long time for me to go without good sleep at night and whereas Silas could nap during the day, I had to often use that time to study or do housework. But we tried crying it out for a bit and it didn't work for long. So, here is a list of six things that did or did not work to get Silas to sleep through the night.
6. An early, early bedtime
Silas likes to hold onto his naps. He was napping three times a day for several months before he finally transitioned to two naps a day, a few months before his first birthday. This meant that for most of his first year, he had a late "bedtime" of nine or ten. When he dropped his late evening nap, I pushed his bedtime up to 7:30 and then 7 and then sometimes 6:30. Occasionally he would sleep for a long chunk of time when I did this, but he was still up two to four times a night.
The nice thing about the super early bedtime was that I had some time in the evening to be an adult. The not so nice thing was that I still had to get to bed early myself if I wanted any meaningful sleep. It's all dandy when the baby sleeps for six hours straight, but when that means he wakes up at one in the morning, I had to be in bed by ten just to sleep for three hours in a row.
Now that he's sleeping through the night, he typically goes to bed between 7:30 and 8.
Conclusion: An early bedtime had a small effect on Silas sleeping for a longer chunk of time in the first part of the night.
5. Naps
Again, Silas likes to nap. There was a brief period of two or so weeks around thirteen months where he started to fight his naps and I was going to transition him to one nap a day, but that passed; I suspect he was simply testing his boundaries. He currently still naps twice a day, usually for about an hour or two each nap. I read a lot about how napping too much during the day could upset sleep, but let me assure you - cutting down on his daytime sleep meant I would be up every hour with him at night.
Lately we've gotten to the point where he will nurse and then ask to go to his crib and nap. I currently call this the "golden age of napping" because he then says "sleepy doggies, bye-bye doggies" and babbles to himself for a bit (anywhere from one to thirty minutes) and then falls asleep peacefully. And with two naps a day, I have time to clean up, do laundry and read and write constantly. It is amazing.
But that's a bit of a tangent. Over the last two weeks, Silas has not reduced his nap time even as he sleeps through the night. (I'm obviously overjoyed by this).
Conclusion: Naps are impossible to figure out. The time Silas spends napping each day seemed to affect his sleep negatively; if he didn't sleep enough during the day, he didn't sleep well at night. However, more sleep during the day did not correlate with more sleep at night after a certain point. Overall naps seem to be mostly independent of his sleeping through the night habits.
4. Nursing
Silas has nursed at least once over night since he was born. And for a long time, he was nursed to sleep. I had read a lot about nursing being a sleep association, but even when he wasn't nursed to sleep (as in the time we did cry it out), he would still wake up to nurse multiple times. I know that many books/professionals also indicate that babies should no longer nurse overnight much sooner than seventeen months, but thankfully at least one guy has my back. (Dr. Sears writes that babies might go up to eighteen months before dropping the overnight nursing).
For a long while, he had a bedtime routine that ended with him reading some books and then nursing and then being put in his crib awake but drowsy. He usually fell asleep without crying on these nights, but woke up often to nurse again by one.
Coinciding exactly with when he started sleeping through the night, Silas dropped his bedtime nursing. In fact, the two nights these past two weeks that he slept poorly were the two nights in which he was nursed closer to his bedtime than the other nights. Most nights he nurses for the final time around six now. I remember the first day it happened. We had been out at a friend's house and I had nursed Silas beforehand. When we got home around 8:30, Silas had fallen asleep in the car. Smiley brought him inside and put him in his crib and he didn't wake up, so I figured I'd head to bed myself and just wait for him to wake up at midnight wanting to nurse (which is what he has done countless other nights in situations like that). Silas slept until five the next morning!
When I tried to take nursing out of the bedtime routine in the months before, it backfired and he was up more than ever. So I think that the breakthrough is more on his decision to drop nursing at bedtime rather than me trying to force it.
Conclusion: Once Silas decided to stop nursing before bedtime, he slept through the night. However, experience showed me that he had to make the decision, not me.
3. Food intake and activity level
It starts VERY early - well-meaning friends and parents suggest putting a tiny bit of rice cereal in a bottle to get your baby to sleep through the night. From there, the suggestion is that if you make sure your baby eats enough during the day, they won't wake up at night. Well, I was nursing Silas and didn't feel like using formula or pumping to give him a bottle when he was younger, and when he got older, I noticed that there was no correlation between how much he ate during the day and how well he slept at night. Absolutely none. Some nights he would eat a lot at dinner and wake up a lot. Other nights he'd eat a lot at dinner and wake up a few less times. Sometimes he would eat very little during the day and wake up only twice. Other times, he'd eat a little and wake up six times. You get the idea, right?
Going hand in hand with that is the concept that if you wear out a baby during the day, he'll sleep better at night. This also had no correlation to how well he slept at night. And on days when he skipped his nap because he was at the park playing, he slept even worse at night.
Conclusion: Food intake had little to no impact on Silas sleeping through the night. Activity had little to no impact on his sleep either.
2. Teething
Oh, baby. My dear little Silas started cutting teeth early and hasn't stopped yet. At seventeen months he has all of his teeth minus his two year molars. His bottom eye teeth are still working their way all the way out, but they have broken through the gums. Some nights when Silas seemed to be extra upset, I would give him some ibuprofen in case he was in pain, but he rarely slept better on those nights. It is possible that since all of his teeth minus the two year molars have broken through that he is now able to sleep better at night. I guess I'll get my answer when his two year molars start to make an appearance.
Conclusion: Teething might have a horrible, negative impact on Silas sleeping through the night. It's possible that he did not sleep through the night until now because he has seriously been working on cutting one tooth after another since five months. However, ibuprofen did not seem to help, so I suspect it is less likely that teething had a huge impact.
1. A bedtime routine
I'm not going to make a blanket statement here; maybe your baby thrives on a bedtime routine. Well, I don't and neither does Silas. For several months I kept his bedtime the same - put on the overnight diaper and pajamas, brush teeth, turn on quiet music, read a couple of books, nurse, put baby in crib.
The past two weeks have not been that routine. He doesn't nurse. Sometimes we read books, sometimes we don't. Sometimes he puts on his pajamas and plays for a while longer before brushing his teeth. The lack of routine has not affected his sleeping through the night.
Full disclosure: during the day, we have a rough routine of wake up, breakfast, naptime two hours after wake up time, play time and lunch, naptime three hours after waking up from the morning nap, playtime and dinner, bedtime roughly four to five hours after waking up from the afternoon nap. Silas typically doesn't watch TV until after his afternoon nap if we watch anything. And that's about it in terms of routine.
Conclusion: A bedtime routine did not help and only stressed me out when I felt like I was deviating from it. I am not a good routine type of person and it stands to reason that my son might not be either. We use loose guidelines. It is not probable that the routine hurt anything, but I am super happy to not have to worry about it.
Final Conclusion: Now that I've spent forty-five minutes typing "Silas sleeps through the night" seventy-six times, I bet you that the moment I hit "publish," Silas will wake up every half hour tonight.
The switch is leaving me with a lot of mixed feelings on baby sleep. Seventeen months is a long time for me to go without good sleep at night and whereas Silas could nap during the day, I had to often use that time to study or do housework. But we tried crying it out for a bit and it didn't work for long. So, here is a list of six things that did or did not work to get Silas to sleep through the night.
6. An early, early bedtime
Silas likes to hold onto his naps. He was napping three times a day for several months before he finally transitioned to two naps a day, a few months before his first birthday. This meant that for most of his first year, he had a late "bedtime" of nine or ten. When he dropped his late evening nap, I pushed his bedtime up to 7:30 and then 7 and then sometimes 6:30. Occasionally he would sleep for a long chunk of time when I did this, but he was still up two to four times a night.
The nice thing about the super early bedtime was that I had some time in the evening to be an adult. The not so nice thing was that I still had to get to bed early myself if I wanted any meaningful sleep. It's all dandy when the baby sleeps for six hours straight, but when that means he wakes up at one in the morning, I had to be in bed by ten just to sleep for three hours in a row.
Now that he's sleeping through the night, he typically goes to bed between 7:30 and 8.
Conclusion: An early bedtime had a small effect on Silas sleeping for a longer chunk of time in the first part of the night.
5. Naps
Again, Silas likes to nap. There was a brief period of two or so weeks around thirteen months where he started to fight his naps and I was going to transition him to one nap a day, but that passed; I suspect he was simply testing his boundaries. He currently still naps twice a day, usually for about an hour or two each nap. I read a lot about how napping too much during the day could upset sleep, but let me assure you - cutting down on his daytime sleep meant I would be up every hour with him at night.
Lately we've gotten to the point where he will nurse and then ask to go to his crib and nap. I currently call this the "golden age of napping" because he then says "sleepy doggies, bye-bye doggies" and babbles to himself for a bit (anywhere from one to thirty minutes) and then falls asleep peacefully. And with two naps a day, I have time to clean up, do laundry and read and write constantly. It is amazing.
But that's a bit of a tangent. Over the last two weeks, Silas has not reduced his nap time even as he sleeps through the night. (I'm obviously overjoyed by this).
Conclusion: Naps are impossible to figure out. The time Silas spends napping each day seemed to affect his sleep negatively; if he didn't sleep enough during the day, he didn't sleep well at night. However, more sleep during the day did not correlate with more sleep at night after a certain point. Overall naps seem to be mostly independent of his sleeping through the night habits.
4. Nursing
Silas has nursed at least once over night since he was born. And for a long time, he was nursed to sleep. I had read a lot about nursing being a sleep association, but even when he wasn't nursed to sleep (as in the time we did cry it out), he would still wake up to nurse multiple times. I know that many books/professionals also indicate that babies should no longer nurse overnight much sooner than seventeen months, but thankfully at least one guy has my back. (Dr. Sears writes that babies might go up to eighteen months before dropping the overnight nursing).
For a long while, he had a bedtime routine that ended with him reading some books and then nursing and then being put in his crib awake but drowsy. He usually fell asleep without crying on these nights, but woke up often to nurse again by one.
Coinciding exactly with when he started sleeping through the night, Silas dropped his bedtime nursing. In fact, the two nights these past two weeks that he slept poorly were the two nights in which he was nursed closer to his bedtime than the other nights. Most nights he nurses for the final time around six now. I remember the first day it happened. We had been out at a friend's house and I had nursed Silas beforehand. When we got home around 8:30, Silas had fallen asleep in the car. Smiley brought him inside and put him in his crib and he didn't wake up, so I figured I'd head to bed myself and just wait for him to wake up at midnight wanting to nurse (which is what he has done countless other nights in situations like that). Silas slept until five the next morning!
When I tried to take nursing out of the bedtime routine in the months before, it backfired and he was up more than ever. So I think that the breakthrough is more on his decision to drop nursing at bedtime rather than me trying to force it.
Conclusion: Once Silas decided to stop nursing before bedtime, he slept through the night. However, experience showed me that he had to make the decision, not me.
3. Food intake and activity level
It starts VERY early - well-meaning friends and parents suggest putting a tiny bit of rice cereal in a bottle to get your baby to sleep through the night. From there, the suggestion is that if you make sure your baby eats enough during the day, they won't wake up at night. Well, I was nursing Silas and didn't feel like using formula or pumping to give him a bottle when he was younger, and when he got older, I noticed that there was no correlation between how much he ate during the day and how well he slept at night. Absolutely none. Some nights he would eat a lot at dinner and wake up a lot. Other nights he'd eat a lot at dinner and wake up a few less times. Sometimes he would eat very little during the day and wake up only twice. Other times, he'd eat a little and wake up six times. You get the idea, right?
Going hand in hand with that is the concept that if you wear out a baby during the day, he'll sleep better at night. This also had no correlation to how well he slept at night. And on days when he skipped his nap because he was at the park playing, he slept even worse at night.
Conclusion: Food intake had little to no impact on Silas sleeping through the night. Activity had little to no impact on his sleep either.
2. Teething
Oh, baby. My dear little Silas started cutting teeth early and hasn't stopped yet. At seventeen months he has all of his teeth minus his two year molars. His bottom eye teeth are still working their way all the way out, but they have broken through the gums. Some nights when Silas seemed to be extra upset, I would give him some ibuprofen in case he was in pain, but he rarely slept better on those nights. It is possible that since all of his teeth minus the two year molars have broken through that he is now able to sleep better at night. I guess I'll get my answer when his two year molars start to make an appearance.
Conclusion: Teething might have a horrible, negative impact on Silas sleeping through the night. It's possible that he did not sleep through the night until now because he has seriously been working on cutting one tooth after another since five months. However, ibuprofen did not seem to help, so I suspect it is less likely that teething had a huge impact.
1. A bedtime routine
I'm not going to make a blanket statement here; maybe your baby thrives on a bedtime routine. Well, I don't and neither does Silas. For several months I kept his bedtime the same - put on the overnight diaper and pajamas, brush teeth, turn on quiet music, read a couple of books, nurse, put baby in crib.
The past two weeks have not been that routine. He doesn't nurse. Sometimes we read books, sometimes we don't. Sometimes he puts on his pajamas and plays for a while longer before brushing his teeth. The lack of routine has not affected his sleeping through the night.
Full disclosure: during the day, we have a rough routine of wake up, breakfast, naptime two hours after wake up time, play time and lunch, naptime three hours after waking up from the morning nap, playtime and dinner, bedtime roughly four to five hours after waking up from the afternoon nap. Silas typically doesn't watch TV until after his afternoon nap if we watch anything. And that's about it in terms of routine.
Conclusion: A bedtime routine did not help and only stressed me out when I felt like I was deviating from it. I am not a good routine type of person and it stands to reason that my son might not be either. We use loose guidelines. It is not probable that the routine hurt anything, but I am super happy to not have to worry about it.
Final Conclusion: Now that I've spent forty-five minutes typing "Silas sleeps through the night" seventy-six times, I bet you that the moment I hit "publish," Silas will wake up every half hour tonight.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Digging Through The Thoughts of Past Me
I have found my old online journal. I have also found my husband's old online journal. We were both writing at the time, blissfully unaware of each other's existences.
At the turn of the year 2005, both Smiley and I took the same online questionnaire that was presumably all the rage across the internet back then. I thought it would be interesting to check out what we said. (My answers will be in green and Smiley's answers will be in red.)
Both surveys start out asking about our names and screennames. Boring! Let's get to the exciting stuff!
THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
I said:
1. I can sing fairly well
2. I'm good at DDR
3. I'm good at leading groups and organizing stuff
Smiley said:
1. my outgoiness and ability to make poepel comfortable around me
2. my confidence
3. the great friends i've managed to get
This question is great. Here we see that I like the fact that I can "lead groups" and "organize stuff." Who knows what the heck I was organizing, but I felt like I was doing good enough at it to brag on the internet about it. Out of my three responses, I'm not sure I'd put any of them up there were I to fill out this questionnaire once more.
Meanwhile, Smiley sticks to making "poepel" comfortable around him. I thought about editing these responses for spelling and grammar, but boy would that be boring! His three responses are right in line with the Smiley I know.
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
I said:
1. Big bugs
2. Being alone
3. Scary movies =p
Smiley said:
1. snow
2. ice
3. bad literature
Well, it would figure that both of us listed first the one thing that we would have to deal with should we someday meet over World of Warcraft and decide to spend the rest of our lives together. I stated that big bugs scare me and there are plenty of those down here in Florida! I guess I had to move to Florida though because Smiley listed that he was afraid of both snow AND ice. Perhaps if I had listed big bugs and ridiculously hot and humid summers AND an annoying lack of sidewalks, we'd be up in Illinois.
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
I said:
1. Glasses or contacts
2. My purse
3. Taking a shower every day
Smiley said:
1. motorcyle
2. schrade multitool
3. toothbrush
I know, I know. These responses are REALLY boring. But I enjoy the reminder that I used to wear contacts in a different life and I'm trying to remember the last time I've showered two days in a row. (To be honest, that's partially because I've found that I actually feel cleaner showering every other day and partially because holy crap small babies are time consuming.)
It kills me that Smiley lists "toothbrush" as an everyday essential along with his multitool and motorcycle. It doesn't feel like a lowly toothbrush belongs on that list.
THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS
I said:
1. Stop biting my nails
2. Live peacefully with my mom
3. Get better at DDR ^^
Smiley said:
1. possibly alcohol on my 21st
2. probably get an xbox and join the ranks of the evil masses
3. my standup act again
I'm going to break this down, line by line. No, I haven't stopped biting my fingernails. Sorry past me. I no longer bite my nails so much that they bleed, if that's any consolation. But when I'm bored or anxious, all bets are off.
Those who know me in the present day may be surprised to know that I had a tough time getting along with my family while I was in high school. It was a bad case of "being a teenager and not having perspective." I don't think it got much better in 2005, but I did get better at it as I grew older.
Yeah, I'm pretty awesome at DDR now.
Smiley assures me that at this point in time, he had never drank alcohol. So that's something we had in common in 2005.
I'm told that he did, in fact, get an xbox.
Smiley continues to approach life with his trademark method of "not taking anything seriously, ever," but he has not segued into a successful standup career as of this posting date.
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING
I said:
1. Teacher
2. Writer
3. erm... stay at home mom? ^^;;
Smiley said:
1. psychology
2. real estate development
3. real estate sales
I only included this because you might be wondering what the heck "^^;;" means. Well, it's a smiley face with giant anime-style sweatdrops. In other words, it means I was embarrassed and/or amused to suggest that I might consider staying at home with children some day. Silly past me.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
I said:
1. Get married and have a family ^^
2. Learn to knit more than just a scarf
3. Get over my fear of death. ^^;;
Smiley said:
1. break the sound barrier on a motorcycle
2. become a known name everwhere (IE celebrity status)
3. take over hosting duty on the daily show
These are all some legit goals, people! I knew from a young age that family would be really important to me. And knitting, apparently. I used to knit, but I literally couldn't do anything except make scarves of varying lengths and sizes. My biggest accomplishment was making scarves with two alternating colors.
I remain fearful of death.
Smiley dreamed big. I think that he could accomplish all of this in one go, if he plays his cards right. Presumably when I am reading through this entry ten years from now, I will be inspired to let you all know how it goes.
THREE KIDS NAMES
Smiley said:
1. chronos
2. methos
3. syus
This is a bonus question! I apparently did not answer it or deleted it, because I don't have a corresponding response. But we see here that even in 2004, Smiley was dedicated to naming his kids after the Highlander show's four horsemen of the apocalypse. I'm honestly surprised he didn't list all four names even though it only asked for three, because Smiley plays fast and loose with The Man's rules. I'm not surprised that he spelled Silas's name wrong.
At the turn of the year 2005, both Smiley and I took the same online questionnaire that was presumably all the rage across the internet back then. I thought it would be interesting to check out what we said. (My answers will be in green and Smiley's answers will be in red.)
Both surveys start out asking about our names and screennames. Boring! Let's get to the exciting stuff!
THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
I said:
1. I can sing fairly well
2. I'm good at DDR
3. I'm good at leading groups and organizing stuff
Smiley said:
1. my outgoiness and ability to make poepel comfortable around me
2. my confidence
3. the great friends i've managed to get
This question is great. Here we see that I like the fact that I can "lead groups" and "organize stuff." Who knows what the heck I was organizing, but I felt like I was doing good enough at it to brag on the internet about it. Out of my three responses, I'm not sure I'd put any of them up there were I to fill out this questionnaire once more.
Meanwhile, Smiley sticks to making "poepel" comfortable around him. I thought about editing these responses for spelling and grammar, but boy would that be boring! His three responses are right in line with the Smiley I know.
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
I said:
1. Big bugs
2. Being alone
3. Scary movies =p
Smiley said:
1. snow
2. ice
3. bad literature
Well, it would figure that both of us listed first the one thing that we would have to deal with should we someday meet over World of Warcraft and decide to spend the rest of our lives together. I stated that big bugs scare me and there are plenty of those down here in Florida! I guess I had to move to Florida though because Smiley listed that he was afraid of both snow AND ice. Perhaps if I had listed big bugs and ridiculously hot and humid summers AND an annoying lack of sidewalks, we'd be up in Illinois.
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
I said:
1. Glasses or contacts
2. My purse
3. Taking a shower every day
Smiley said:
1. motorcyle
2. schrade multitool
3. toothbrush
I know, I know. These responses are REALLY boring. But I enjoy the reminder that I used to wear contacts in a different life and I'm trying to remember the last time I've showered two days in a row. (To be honest, that's partially because I've found that I actually feel cleaner showering every other day and partially because holy crap small babies are time consuming.)
It kills me that Smiley lists "toothbrush" as an everyday essential along with his multitool and motorcycle. It doesn't feel like a lowly toothbrush belongs on that list.
THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS
I said:
1. Stop biting my nails
2. Live peacefully with my mom
3. Get better at DDR ^^
Smiley said:
1. possibly alcohol on my 21st
2. probably get an xbox and join the ranks of the evil masses
3. my standup act again
I'm going to break this down, line by line. No, I haven't stopped biting my fingernails. Sorry past me. I no longer bite my nails so much that they bleed, if that's any consolation. But when I'm bored or anxious, all bets are off.
Those who know me in the present day may be surprised to know that I had a tough time getting along with my family while I was in high school. It was a bad case of "being a teenager and not having perspective." I don't think it got much better in 2005, but I did get better at it as I grew older.
Yeah, I'm pretty awesome at DDR now.
Smiley assures me that at this point in time, he had never drank alcohol. So that's something we had in common in 2005.
I'm told that he did, in fact, get an xbox.
Smiley continues to approach life with his trademark method of "not taking anything seriously, ever," but he has not segued into a successful standup career as of this posting date.
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING
I said:
1. Teacher
2. Writer
3. erm... stay at home mom? ^^;;
Smiley said:
1. psychology
2. real estate development
3. real estate sales
I only included this because you might be wondering what the heck "^^;;" means. Well, it's a smiley face with giant anime-style sweatdrops. In other words, it means I was embarrassed and/or amused to suggest that I might consider staying at home with children some day. Silly past me.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
I said:
1. Get married and have a family ^^
2. Learn to knit more than just a scarf
3. Get over my fear of death. ^^;;
Smiley said:
1. break the sound barrier on a motorcycle
2. become a known name everwhere (IE celebrity status)
3. take over hosting duty on the daily show
These are all some legit goals, people! I knew from a young age that family would be really important to me. And knitting, apparently. I used to knit, but I literally couldn't do anything except make scarves of varying lengths and sizes. My biggest accomplishment was making scarves with two alternating colors.
I remain fearful of death.
Smiley dreamed big. I think that he could accomplish all of this in one go, if he plays his cards right. Presumably when I am reading through this entry ten years from now, I will be inspired to let you all know how it goes.
THREE KIDS NAMES
Smiley said:
1. chronos
2. methos
3. syus
This is a bonus question! I apparently did not answer it or deleted it, because I don't have a corresponding response. But we see here that even in 2004, Smiley was dedicated to naming his kids after the Highlander show's four horsemen of the apocalypse. I'm honestly surprised he didn't list all four names even though it only asked for three, because Smiley plays fast and loose with The Man's rules. I'm not surprised that he spelled Silas's name wrong.
Monday, December 16, 2013
A Laundry Surprise
I don't know how you do it, but Smiley and I have our dog's cage set up in our closet. We don't have a walk in closet, but we do have small dogs.
The other day, our dog Sherlock coughed up a hairball or something; he threw up in the cage overnight. It smelled icky, so I had Smiley clean it up. Later during the day, when I was hanging up a shirt, I noticed that the whole closet still seemed to smell.
"Didn't you clean the dog's cage?" I asked, and Smiley nodded. He gestured towards the roll of paper towels and the cleaning supplies that he had brought into the room. I could see the used paper towels in our trash can.
So, I started snooping around in our closet, wondering if Smiley's fear of Sherlock peeing out of the cage came true at some point. What I found was, perhaps, worse.
A box of belts that I had in the closet revealed that some of the belts were starting to grow mildew. And then I realized that was what the smell was. A quick sniff of some of the clothes folded on the shelves agreed with my realization. Friggen everything was slowly starting to get mildew in our closet, except for the shirts that we used most often.
As I type this, I have my tenth load of laundry running. I never realized how many clothes I have stored in the closet that I never wear, but even if I wanted to donate them, I'd still need to wash them first. (Let's not discuss my problem with donating clothes; I have a hard time getting rid of clothes that I spent money on or that other people spent money on for me, even if I never, ever wear them. What happens if one day I completely change my mind and want to wear them and then I have to buy them again because I got rid of them? Nope, can't do it.) They all smell horrible. They all need to be cleaned.
I am learning that "hand wash only" is really just code for "put it in the washer anyhow on the gentle cycle because I don't have time to hand wash all of this stuff." I also need a second drying rack, because there is one rule I don't mess around with and that's "line dry only." I've seen too many shrunken or disfigured clothes in my day. My current little drying rack is doing its best, covered in old dresses, belts, handmade t-shirts and more.
Plus, I need to search the internet to figure out how to remove mildew from shoes, if that's even possible.
I guess this all started when I decided I would save money by keeping our air conditioning usage down during the summer. Florida's humidity and high temperatures have shown me that was a stupid way to save money. So yes, on the one hand, I'm glad that I have only had to run my heat a few days this year so far. On the other hand, my clothes are all mildewy and that's disgusting. All I'm saying, Florida, is can't you try to keep the humidity and heat down just a tad during the summer? Thanks.
The other day, our dog Sherlock coughed up a hairball or something; he threw up in the cage overnight. It smelled icky, so I had Smiley clean it up. Later during the day, when I was hanging up a shirt, I noticed that the whole closet still seemed to smell.
"Didn't you clean the dog's cage?" I asked, and Smiley nodded. He gestured towards the roll of paper towels and the cleaning supplies that he had brought into the room. I could see the used paper towels in our trash can.
So, I started snooping around in our closet, wondering if Smiley's fear of Sherlock peeing out of the cage came true at some point. What I found was, perhaps, worse.
A box of belts that I had in the closet revealed that some of the belts were starting to grow mildew. And then I realized that was what the smell was. A quick sniff of some of the clothes folded on the shelves agreed with my realization. Friggen everything was slowly starting to get mildew in our closet, except for the shirts that we used most often.
As I type this, I have my tenth load of laundry running. I never realized how many clothes I have stored in the closet that I never wear, but even if I wanted to donate them, I'd still need to wash them first. (Let's not discuss my problem with donating clothes; I have a hard time getting rid of clothes that I spent money on or that other people spent money on for me, even if I never, ever wear them. What happens if one day I completely change my mind and want to wear them and then I have to buy them again because I got rid of them? Nope, can't do it.) They all smell horrible. They all need to be cleaned.
I am learning that "hand wash only" is really just code for "put it in the washer anyhow on the gentle cycle because I don't have time to hand wash all of this stuff." I also need a second drying rack, because there is one rule I don't mess around with and that's "line dry only." I've seen too many shrunken or disfigured clothes in my day. My current little drying rack is doing its best, covered in old dresses, belts, handmade t-shirts and more.
Plus, I need to search the internet to figure out how to remove mildew from shoes, if that's even possible.
I guess this all started when I decided I would save money by keeping our air conditioning usage down during the summer. Florida's humidity and high temperatures have shown me that was a stupid way to save money. So yes, on the one hand, I'm glad that I have only had to run my heat a few days this year so far. On the other hand, my clothes are all mildewy and that's disgusting. All I'm saying, Florida, is can't you try to keep the humidity and heat down just a tad during the summer? Thanks.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
It only SEEMS like I've disappeared
Between finishing out the school semester, NaNoWriMo, and a Thanksgiving trip up to visit my parents, I really don't have time to be writing this.
But here I am, anyhow.
So let me overshare with this story of toddlers and their bodily functions.
The trip from my house to my parent's house is a 15-16 hour drive, plus time to stop and take care of Silas's needs. The last two times I've made the trip, each way has been 18 hours long. Travel days are long days, is what I'm getting at.
Silas does remarkably well on the trip. He is content to listen to books all day, as long as he gets to stretch his legs every two hours or so by searching for sticks outside at rest stops. And since there are long stretches of road that aren't super well-lit, Silas also falls asleep fairly readily in the evening.
We had been driving all day, leaving my parent's house in the morning and merrily making our way back south. It was now about eight in the evening and we had finally broken through Tennessee into Alabama. We stopped to grab some dinner and to take a bathroom break.
I brought a sleepy Silas into the bathroom and looked for the changing station, which was located inside the handicapped stall at the end of the room. Cool. I got Silas onto the table and took off his diaper, which was surprisingly dry given how red his poor baby bottom was.
I thought for a moment, willing my car trip addled brain to use logic and reason. The issue at hand was that we still had over eight hours of driving to go, and I didn't want Silas screaming because of a bad diaper rash. I didn't have any diaper rash cream or baby powder on hand because I had left them up at my parent's house by accident. As anyone who has tended to a small child in diapers knows, that left the option of letting him air out for a few minutes. (Or, I guess, stopping to buy it at a drugstore, but that only seems obvious now.)
The problem came to a head when I thought to myself, "Oh well, I'll kill two birds with one stone by letting him walk around in the handicapped stall, diaper-free, for a bit."
You know how something seems so reasonable in your mind and then reality sets in? Truth be told, I've let Silas go bare-bum around our house every so often, and I could count the number of accidents he's had during those times on one hand.
This turned out to be the time that left me needing two hands to count the accidents. As soon as I set him down, Silas took note of the bathroom drain on the tile floor. He pointed at it, and then promptly peed on it. I watched in surprise and shock and then shook my head in disbelief.
"Ok," I said aloud, "Well, let's wipe that up and let the lady at the counter know that they should probably mop or something. And yeah, I guess it's good that you kind of understand that pee should, uh, go down a drain or something?"
Then Silas walked over to the door of the bathroom stall, and peed again on the floor, as if to say that he heard what I said and wanted to show me that I was incorrect. I could see why his diaper had been so dry.
You might be thinking that the smart idea here would have been to grab Silas and diaper him up before cleaning the bathroom floor. I make no excuses for myself, as I simply didn't think to do that at the time. Instead, I put Silas over on the other side of the floor and started grabbing wipes to clean up after him, putting my priority at cleaning up the symptoms rather than fixing the source.
So of course, Silas wandered over to the toilet and then peed on it too. (Had I taken him on too many walks with the dogs? Did he now think he had to leave his scent everywhere?)
Oh, hindsight.
In any case, you'll be happy to know that 1) Silas's air time did prevent diaper rash and he slept mostly peacefully for the rest of the trip and 2) I cleaned up the restroom floor as best I could and then went over to the register and told them what happened (albeit an abridged version) so they could mop up with better chemicals than wet wipes and tons of toilet paper.
A few closing thoughts - I've recently learned that pretty much everything I post online seems to be on one list or another of "things that no one wants to read about." Whoops. I thought this seemed like a funny story, but as we learned above, it's not good to trust my judgement.
I need to find a better way to get from Florida to Illinois and back again. Planes are so expensive, but the time-consuming drive is not much better. Just gotta keep holding out for portal technology, I guess.
But here I am, anyhow.
So let me overshare with this story of toddlers and their bodily functions.
The trip from my house to my parent's house is a 15-16 hour drive, plus time to stop and take care of Silas's needs. The last two times I've made the trip, each way has been 18 hours long. Travel days are long days, is what I'm getting at.
Silas does remarkably well on the trip. He is content to listen to books all day, as long as he gets to stretch his legs every two hours or so by searching for sticks outside at rest stops. And since there are long stretches of road that aren't super well-lit, Silas also falls asleep fairly readily in the evening.
We had been driving all day, leaving my parent's house in the morning and merrily making our way back south. It was now about eight in the evening and we had finally broken through Tennessee into Alabama. We stopped to grab some dinner and to take a bathroom break.
I brought a sleepy Silas into the bathroom and looked for the changing station, which was located inside the handicapped stall at the end of the room. Cool. I got Silas onto the table and took off his diaper, which was surprisingly dry given how red his poor baby bottom was.
I thought for a moment, willing my car trip addled brain to use logic and reason. The issue at hand was that we still had over eight hours of driving to go, and I didn't want Silas screaming because of a bad diaper rash. I didn't have any diaper rash cream or baby powder on hand because I had left them up at my parent's house by accident. As anyone who has tended to a small child in diapers knows, that left the option of letting him air out for a few minutes. (Or, I guess, stopping to buy it at a drugstore, but that only seems obvious now.)
The problem came to a head when I thought to myself, "Oh well, I'll kill two birds with one stone by letting him walk around in the handicapped stall, diaper-free, for a bit."
You know how something seems so reasonable in your mind and then reality sets in? Truth be told, I've let Silas go bare-bum around our house every so often, and I could count the number of accidents he's had during those times on one hand.
This turned out to be the time that left me needing two hands to count the accidents. As soon as I set him down, Silas took note of the bathroom drain on the tile floor. He pointed at it, and then promptly peed on it. I watched in surprise and shock and then shook my head in disbelief.
"Ok," I said aloud, "Well, let's wipe that up and let the lady at the counter know that they should probably mop or something. And yeah, I guess it's good that you kind of understand that pee should, uh, go down a drain or something?"
Then Silas walked over to the door of the bathroom stall, and peed again on the floor, as if to say that he heard what I said and wanted to show me that I was incorrect. I could see why his diaper had been so dry.
You might be thinking that the smart idea here would have been to grab Silas and diaper him up before cleaning the bathroom floor. I make no excuses for myself, as I simply didn't think to do that at the time. Instead, I put Silas over on the other side of the floor and started grabbing wipes to clean up after him, putting my priority at cleaning up the symptoms rather than fixing the source.
So of course, Silas wandered over to the toilet and then peed on it too. (Had I taken him on too many walks with the dogs? Did he now think he had to leave his scent everywhere?)
Oh, hindsight.
In any case, you'll be happy to know that 1) Silas's air time did prevent diaper rash and he slept mostly peacefully for the rest of the trip and 2) I cleaned up the restroom floor as best I could and then went over to the register and told them what happened (albeit an abridged version) so they could mop up with better chemicals than wet wipes and tons of toilet paper.
A few closing thoughts - I've recently learned that pretty much everything I post online seems to be on one list or another of "things that no one wants to read about." Whoops. I thought this seemed like a funny story, but as we learned above, it's not good to trust my judgement.
I need to find a better way to get from Florida to Illinois and back again. Planes are so expensive, but the time-consuming drive is not much better. Just gotta keep holding out for portal technology, I guess.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Just a Typical Morning
The other day I'm getting dressed and musing over what outfit to wear. My husband says I should wear a shirt I hadn't worn in awhile.
He starts describing it. "You know, that shirt that has the little shoulderpads?"
I'm pretty sure he's referring to a t-shirt I have that has a cute little double sleeve detail.
"If we're thinking about the same shirt," I tell him, scowling a little, "I wore it last weekend when Silas and I visited you while you were playing 40k."
He tells me that he can't remember when I wear everything and besides, he was probably paying more attention to playing with Silas during the visit.
But it is a nice shirt, this shirt I'm thinking about. It's a soft jersey material, so it's comfortable, but it still looks cuter than a basic t-shirt.
As I rummage around in my drawer to find it, Smiley continues describing the shirt. "Well, it's black and white," he says, as I nod to myself, now positive I know what shirt he's thinking about, "And yellow and blue."
Hold your horses, husband.
You've just veered into 'I have no clue what shirt I own fits this description' territory.
I pull out the shirt I think he's talking about.
"Yeah, that's the one," he confirms.
"This shirt is entirely black and white," I confirm.
I guess I should mention that my husband is yellow/blue colorblind. Sometimes I forget about that, because it only seems to be for lighter shades of blue and yellow.
He points to one section of the shirt and says "That looks like what yellow looks like and," as he points to another spot, "That looks like what blue looks like."
Both of the sections he has pointed to are gray and I tell him as much. He says he still likes the shirt and I should still wear it and I agree.
It's moments like those that remind me how even the most straightforward things can be seen in different ways based on who's looking.
The good news is, at least when I go gray, I won't have to dye my hair!
He starts describing it. "You know, that shirt that has the little shoulderpads?"
I'm pretty sure he's referring to a t-shirt I have that has a cute little double sleeve detail.
"If we're thinking about the same shirt," I tell him, scowling a little, "I wore it last weekend when Silas and I visited you while you were playing 40k."
He tells me that he can't remember when I wear everything and besides, he was probably paying more attention to playing with Silas during the visit.
But it is a nice shirt, this shirt I'm thinking about. It's a soft jersey material, so it's comfortable, but it still looks cuter than a basic t-shirt.
As I rummage around in my drawer to find it, Smiley continues describing the shirt. "Well, it's black and white," he says, as I nod to myself, now positive I know what shirt he's thinking about, "And yellow and blue."
Hold your horses, husband.
You've just veered into 'I have no clue what shirt I own fits this description' territory.
I pull out the shirt I think he's talking about.
"Yeah, that's the one," he confirms.
"This shirt is entirely black and white," I confirm.
I guess I should mention that my husband is yellow/blue colorblind. Sometimes I forget about that, because it only seems to be for lighter shades of blue and yellow.
He points to one section of the shirt and says "That looks like what yellow looks like and," as he points to another spot, "That looks like what blue looks like."
Both of the sections he has pointed to are gray and I tell him as much. He says he still likes the shirt and I should still wear it and I agree.
It's moments like those that remind me how even the most straightforward things can be seen in different ways based on who's looking.
The good news is, at least when I go gray, I won't have to dye my hair!
Monday, April 1, 2013
I am a DIY "goddess"
For the past few months, our bathroom faucet has been leaking. Drip, drip, drop. One little tiny bit at a time. Barely worth looking into. I tried to get Smiley to fix it, but he deemed it too insignificant to spend a potential half afternoon fixing and said one of these weekends he would just buy a new faucet since the current one is kind of cheap anyhow. I was agreeable to that, but the drip was not. It got worse, probably as a form of protest ("how dare you suggest I'm not a leak to be contended with?!").
But there came the moment I could no longer ignore this drip. After all, every drop was probably costing us about a fraction of a fraction of a penny. And eventually it would end up costing us a penny. And from there, the sky was the limit!
Now as you all know, we keep stuff. So it didn't take me long to dig up the box that the faucet came in. I was hoping to see, I don't know, maybe a troubleshooting guide or something? The box was empty, but I noticed the installation guide on the bottom and it worried me. The installation process was shown to be three steps: open box, put top part of faucet above sink, secure bottom part under sink.
Why did this worry me? I had looked up on The Internet how to fix a faucet, and it had been intimidating. Pictures showed the various screws, washers and valves that could comprise a faucet. So this overly simplistic box picture made me wonder if the faucet was so cheap that it really couldn't be taken down into its component parts. And that made me wonder if I was going to have to go to the store and really buy a faucet. And installing a faucet seemed ten times more scary than trying to fix a mysterious leak.
So I went into the bathroom and stared down the faucet. Gave it the once-over. And there I noticed two little plastic spots on the inside of the handles. I gently pried them out and saw there was a space for an allen wrench! I could take the handles apart after all!
Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to check and see if only one side was leaking before taking everything apart. First I turned off both hot and cold water to the faucet and (of course) the leak stopped. Then I turned on the cold water. No leak. Then I turned off the cold water and turned on the hot water. Then we had a leak!
Yes, that is one of those moments that I felt proud about. (Did I mention that Silas thought I was hilarious? He was quite content to play in the hallway during this little ordeal of mine. Amazing what a change of scenery can do for a baby.) Even though I knew that anyone could have done that in no time at all, it still felt like a step in the right direction for me. I turned the water supply off again, just in case, and got all up under the sink.
It was not easy to get all up under the sink. Though that bathroom has a spacious cabinet, a spacious cabinet is still a somewhat cramped space for a human being. I looked up under the sink, shining a light, and found nothing that seemed to be useful. There was a black washer and I half heartedly gave it a twist to see if it was loose or something. (This was my method of "trial and error at work, people!) It was not loose. It felt like it probably should feel, I decided. My back cramping had nothing to do with that decision at all, I swear.
I knew I would have to remove the handle. I loaded a picture of potential handle insides onto my phone and searched around the house for the proper size allen wrench. I was surprised to find one in our bedroom window sill that was a match. Then I promptly managed to use it incorrectly. (I used the short side of the wrench which meant I had to keep pulling it out and reinserting it because the long side would hit the bathroom counter. Whoops.)
As I was unscrewing this tiny screw, I had one thought - "I need to make sure I don't drop this into the sink."
Of course the moment I gently took the screw from the handle, I dropped it into the sink. Crap. '
Then I tried to grab it before it could roll down into the drain. Of course it rolled down into the drain. I knew vaguely that the "p-trap" could catch this item and that somehow I could retrieve it, but I put that thought aside for now. I looked at the handle mechanism.
Of course it was different than the diagram I found online.
I noticed there was a screw, a larger screw, holding an orange piece together. So, logically, it made sense that I should take out this screw also. Imagine how great I felt when I found a screwdriver (also in our bedroom) that was the perfect fit. I took out that screw. I did not drop it in the sink, because it was large enough that it wouldn't have fallen down the drain.
Then I looked at the orange piece and decided to pry it up as well. At first, I wasn't really sure what I was looking at. The piece was about a half inch in diameter and fit on a metal piece that I couldn't figure out how to pry up. In fact, it was at this point that I realized that I had taken apart as much as I was able to. I didn't have the wrench needed to remove the metal bolt that held this metal piece/orange thing combination. I had reached the end of my attempt to fix this. I decided to take heart in the fact that at least Silas was still thrilled about exploring a different section of carpeting.
So I pressed the orange thing back onto the metal thing (I'm using all the highly technical terms here) and realized that this was the mechanism that decided how much water came through the faucet. So before I put the decorative handle part back on, I decided to play with it and see how it worked. I turned the hot water back on and amused myself by rotating the orange plastic piece to turn on and off the water.
And that's when I realized that when I turned the faucet off, it wasn't leaking anymore.
I looked down at the orange piece. It looked the exact same as it had before I took it off. I hadn't made any adjustments, consciously. Clearly my subconscious mind had done something amazing. I tentatively put the long screw back into the orange/metal combination. Still no leak.
I put the handle part back over everything and turned on the water. I turned it off. No leak.
I resisted squealing in joy, because the tiny screw was still stuck in the p-trap. But somehow, I had fixed the leak. And, even better, my husband got home just as this was happening, so I could share my triumphant fix (and less triumphant screw-loss). Luckily, as he is able to do this sort of thing much better than me, he removed the p-trap, retrieved the screw, and we replaced that together.
Silas started to fuss at this point, presumably because he realized that just like the carpet in the living room and the bedroom, he is unable to eat this "different" hallway carpeting too. It was quite perfect in timing.
As of this writing, the leak is still fixed.
But there came the moment I could no longer ignore this drip. After all, every drop was probably costing us about a fraction of a fraction of a penny. And eventually it would end up costing us a penny. And from there, the sky was the limit!
Now as you all know, we keep stuff. So it didn't take me long to dig up the box that the faucet came in. I was hoping to see, I don't know, maybe a troubleshooting guide or something? The box was empty, but I noticed the installation guide on the bottom and it worried me. The installation process was shown to be three steps: open box, put top part of faucet above sink, secure bottom part under sink.
Why did this worry me? I had looked up on The Internet how to fix a faucet, and it had been intimidating. Pictures showed the various screws, washers and valves that could comprise a faucet. So this overly simplistic box picture made me wonder if the faucet was so cheap that it really couldn't be taken down into its component parts. And that made me wonder if I was going to have to go to the store and really buy a faucet. And installing a faucet seemed ten times more scary than trying to fix a mysterious leak.
So I went into the bathroom and stared down the faucet. Gave it the once-over. And there I noticed two little plastic spots on the inside of the handles. I gently pried them out and saw there was a space for an allen wrench! I could take the handles apart after all!
Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to check and see if only one side was leaking before taking everything apart. First I turned off both hot and cold water to the faucet and (of course) the leak stopped. Then I turned on the cold water. No leak. Then I turned off the cold water and turned on the hot water. Then we had a leak!
Yes, that is one of those moments that I felt proud about. (Did I mention that Silas thought I was hilarious? He was quite content to play in the hallway during this little ordeal of mine. Amazing what a change of scenery can do for a baby.) Even though I knew that anyone could have done that in no time at all, it still felt like a step in the right direction for me. I turned the water supply off again, just in case, and got all up under the sink.
It was not easy to get all up under the sink. Though that bathroom has a spacious cabinet, a spacious cabinet is still a somewhat cramped space for a human being. I looked up under the sink, shining a light, and found nothing that seemed to be useful. There was a black washer and I half heartedly gave it a twist to see if it was loose or something. (This was my method of "trial and error at work, people!) It was not loose. It felt like it probably should feel, I decided. My back cramping had nothing to do with that decision at all, I swear.
I knew I would have to remove the handle. I loaded a picture of potential handle insides onto my phone and searched around the house for the proper size allen wrench. I was surprised to find one in our bedroom window sill that was a match. Then I promptly managed to use it incorrectly. (I used the short side of the wrench which meant I had to keep pulling it out and reinserting it because the long side would hit the bathroom counter. Whoops.)
As I was unscrewing this tiny screw, I had one thought - "I need to make sure I don't drop this into the sink."
Of course the moment I gently took the screw from the handle, I dropped it into the sink. Crap. '
Then I tried to grab it before it could roll down into the drain. Of course it rolled down into the drain. I knew vaguely that the "p-trap" could catch this item and that somehow I could retrieve it, but I put that thought aside for now. I looked at the handle mechanism.
Of course it was different than the diagram I found online.
I noticed there was a screw, a larger screw, holding an orange piece together. So, logically, it made sense that I should take out this screw also. Imagine how great I felt when I found a screwdriver (also in our bedroom) that was the perfect fit. I took out that screw. I did not drop it in the sink, because it was large enough that it wouldn't have fallen down the drain.
Then I looked at the orange piece and decided to pry it up as well. At first, I wasn't really sure what I was looking at. The piece was about a half inch in diameter and fit on a metal piece that I couldn't figure out how to pry up. In fact, it was at this point that I realized that I had taken apart as much as I was able to. I didn't have the wrench needed to remove the metal bolt that held this metal piece/orange thing combination. I had reached the end of my attempt to fix this. I decided to take heart in the fact that at least Silas was still thrilled about exploring a different section of carpeting.
So I pressed the orange thing back onto the metal thing (I'm using all the highly technical terms here) and realized that this was the mechanism that decided how much water came through the faucet. So before I put the decorative handle part back on, I decided to play with it and see how it worked. I turned the hot water back on and amused myself by rotating the orange plastic piece to turn on and off the water.
And that's when I realized that when I turned the faucet off, it wasn't leaking anymore.
I looked down at the orange piece. It looked the exact same as it had before I took it off. I hadn't made any adjustments, consciously. Clearly my subconscious mind had done something amazing. I tentatively put the long screw back into the orange/metal combination. Still no leak.
I put the handle part back over everything and turned on the water. I turned it off. No leak.
I resisted squealing in joy, because the tiny screw was still stuck in the p-trap. But somehow, I had fixed the leak. And, even better, my husband got home just as this was happening, so I could share my triumphant fix (and less triumphant screw-loss). Luckily, as he is able to do this sort of thing much better than me, he removed the p-trap, retrieved the screw, and we replaced that together.
Silas started to fuss at this point, presumably because he realized that just like the carpet in the living room and the bedroom, he is unable to eat this "different" hallway carpeting too. It was quite perfect in timing.
As of this writing, the leak is still fixed.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Shh! It's a secret!
Today Smiley picked up some extra work so I am going to seize the moment and sneak a Christmas tree into the house! What with me quitting my job to go back to school and him having some issues at his weekday job, I won't be spending much, so it won't be anything amazing, but it will be Silas's first Christmas tree!
So as many of you all know, I'm not particularly religious; I haven't really been to church in probably years. I do firmly believe in being compassionate towards others, helpful and open minded, which are all things I can do no matter where I am on Sunday, but there is actually one thing I miss about not being able to go to church here in Tallahassee - and if you know me, you might have guessed - it's the hymns.
And maybe you wouldn't have guessed it - maybe you don't know how peaceful singing is to me. Smiley knows. He's had to put up with it for two years now; it's not uncommon for me to spend an evening singing along to my favorite songs (think Nightwish, Evanescence, Within Temptation, and video game songs that I love) as a way to relax and wind down. (And actually, the people I play WoW with know. They've heard me singing over vent during raids to stay calm!)
And maybe you might think I'm weird; I know when I brought a friend to church services many years back, he complained that the songs were too slow. I know a lot of churches like to bring excitement to their hymns with upbeat tempos, guitars, and other instruments precisely for that reason and that works for many people, but not me.
I got to thinking about all of this today when I was singing Silas lullabys as I put him down for his morning nap. I started using the old hymn tunes as a base for my words of love to Silas. It comforts me, and, judging from the fact that he's been asleep long enough for me to write all of the above - without any breaks to rock him back to sleep! - I think it comforts him too.
Well, I can't spend all of my time here typing; I've got to go make room for a Christmas tree. Thanks for letting me share a little part of my morning with you guys.
So as many of you all know, I'm not particularly religious; I haven't really been to church in probably years. I do firmly believe in being compassionate towards others, helpful and open minded, which are all things I can do no matter where I am on Sunday, but there is actually one thing I miss about not being able to go to church here in Tallahassee - and if you know me, you might have guessed - it's the hymns.
And maybe you wouldn't have guessed it - maybe you don't know how peaceful singing is to me. Smiley knows. He's had to put up with it for two years now; it's not uncommon for me to spend an evening singing along to my favorite songs (think Nightwish, Evanescence, Within Temptation, and video game songs that I love) as a way to relax and wind down. (And actually, the people I play WoW with know. They've heard me singing over vent during raids to stay calm!)
And maybe you might think I'm weird; I know when I brought a friend to church services many years back, he complained that the songs were too slow. I know a lot of churches like to bring excitement to their hymns with upbeat tempos, guitars, and other instruments precisely for that reason and that works for many people, but not me.
I got to thinking about all of this today when I was singing Silas lullabys as I put him down for his morning nap. I started using the old hymn tunes as a base for my words of love to Silas. It comforts me, and, judging from the fact that he's been asleep long enough for me to write all of the above - without any breaks to rock him back to sleep! - I think it comforts him too.
Well, I can't spend all of my time here typing; I've got to go make room for a Christmas tree. Thanks for letting me share a little part of my morning with you guys.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Another Tale Of Sleep Deprivation
Quick - ask me to pronounce "deprivation" - there's a good chance I'll completely screw it up; I have been messing up words left and right and my only claim to education is an English degree, so it's darned embarrassing. I mean, if I were awake and aware enough to be embarrassed.
The other week, maybe two or three weeks ago, Smiley and I went to Target and I picked up some shampoo and conditioner since my current bottles were running low. When we got home, I put them in our shower and promptly flipped my current bottles over to make sure I was getting every last bit of cleansing liquid from the current bottles.
At the beginning of last week, my then-current bottles finally ran out and I took them out of the shower when I was done, ready to seamlessly switch over to my new choices next shower.
Now, maybe none of you guys are dirty hippies like me, but I typically (even before baby Silas!) like to wash my hair every other day. I have terribly fine, thin hair and if I wash it daily, it just goes as greasy as a piece of Pizza Hut pizza by the end of each afternoon. Not a good look.
But with the addition of baby Silas to the household, I'm not ashamed to say that sometimes I don't wash my hair until every third day. (Hey, when you have a minute or two to clean up before the baby starts screaming, you prioritize. If my dirty hair has offended anyone, I'm sorry).
Again, unless you're used to thin, fine hair, you might not know that when I do go three days before washing it, sometimes the shampoo won't exactly sud up like normal. Sometimes you have to shampoo twice, because your hair needs it and not because the bottle suggests it. So, I was not at all surprised when on Wednesday last week, I jumped into the shower and grabbed my new bottle of shampoo and found that it didn't sud up at all the first time.
As I was rinsing out the first shampoo, I vaguely noticed that my hair felt different than it normally did with the shampoo brand I was using. But it wasn't enough to force me to stop and think about the situation. I just rinsed out the shampoo and reapplied another round. This time, it still didn't bubble as I scrubbed it in. Now, you people with your fancy "full nights of sleep" or even "just four hours at a time sleep" might have stopped and checked your shampoo at this point to make sure all was well, but I chalked it up to my hair possibly being exceptionally dirty and I rinsed it out and used my conditioner and promised myself I'd wash my hair before three more days passed.
Three more days passed before I washed my hair again. I got into the shower, fully ready to wash my hair well, and applied the first coat of shampoo. Again, no suds. And that feeling of something being off was finally enough that I checked my bottle of so-called shampoo. For those of you playing "Guess the Mystery" at home, yes, when I was at Target last month, I picked up a bottle of conditioner instead of shampoo. For those of you who know I'm pretty blind without my glasses, I never noticed the darned word "conditioner" on the bottle the few times I've used it.
And for those of you who've wondered how my hair looked so dirty and yet incredibly soft and conditioned, now you know. I've been conditioning my hair twice, if not three times, every time I wash it. Whoops.
The other week, maybe two or three weeks ago, Smiley and I went to Target and I picked up some shampoo and conditioner since my current bottles were running low. When we got home, I put them in our shower and promptly flipped my current bottles over to make sure I was getting every last bit of cleansing liquid from the current bottles.
At the beginning of last week, my then-current bottles finally ran out and I took them out of the shower when I was done, ready to seamlessly switch over to my new choices next shower.
Now, maybe none of you guys are dirty hippies like me, but I typically (even before baby Silas!) like to wash my hair every other day. I have terribly fine, thin hair and if I wash it daily, it just goes as greasy as a piece of Pizza Hut pizza by the end of each afternoon. Not a good look.
But with the addition of baby Silas to the household, I'm not ashamed to say that sometimes I don't wash my hair until every third day. (Hey, when you have a minute or two to clean up before the baby starts screaming, you prioritize. If my dirty hair has offended anyone, I'm sorry).
Again, unless you're used to thin, fine hair, you might not know that when I do go three days before washing it, sometimes the shampoo won't exactly sud up like normal. Sometimes you have to shampoo twice, because your hair needs it and not because the bottle suggests it. So, I was not at all surprised when on Wednesday last week, I jumped into the shower and grabbed my new bottle of shampoo and found that it didn't sud up at all the first time.
As I was rinsing out the first shampoo, I vaguely noticed that my hair felt different than it normally did with the shampoo brand I was using. But it wasn't enough to force me to stop and think about the situation. I just rinsed out the shampoo and reapplied another round. This time, it still didn't bubble as I scrubbed it in. Now, you people with your fancy "full nights of sleep" or even "just four hours at a time sleep" might have stopped and checked your shampoo at this point to make sure all was well, but I chalked it up to my hair possibly being exceptionally dirty and I rinsed it out and used my conditioner and promised myself I'd wash my hair before three more days passed.
Three more days passed before I washed my hair again. I got into the shower, fully ready to wash my hair well, and applied the first coat of shampoo. Again, no suds. And that feeling of something being off was finally enough that I checked my bottle of so-called shampoo. For those of you playing "Guess the Mystery" at home, yes, when I was at Target last month, I picked up a bottle of conditioner instead of shampoo. For those of you who know I'm pretty blind without my glasses, I never noticed the darned word "conditioner" on the bottle the few times I've used it.
And for those of you who've wondered how my hair looked so dirty and yet incredibly soft and conditioned, now you know. I've been conditioning my hair twice, if not three times, every time I wash it. Whoops.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
In which I reveal that when I get tired, things don't work out so well
The other weekend, my husband and I went to a dinner party at a friend's apartment. We brought along curry and rice, so of course I had to do two pots of curry - one mild and one with spice - and then a third pot with rice so that people could get their personal favorite rice-to-curry ratio. What I'm getting at is there were a lot of pots.
And because there were a lot of pots, and because they were very hot when we brought them over, I wrapped them all in a bunch of towels. I need to look into that cool 3-pot slow cooker carrying station. But I didn't, so there we were, with a plethora of pots and towels and the evening had come to a close and it was time for us to take our pots and towels and be on our merry way.
I had been mildly busy all day and was rather tired at this point. My main goal was to carry as many towels as possible along with two of the pots and to not spill leftovers on my dress. It turns out that my goals were the wrong goals.
As I stood there, yawning and watching as everyone gathered their things and said their good byes, I noticed a smell. It was the kind of smell that you don't want to notice. It was the smell of something burning that maybe shouldn't be burning.
I looked down and noticed there was a jar candle on the table I was standing near. I continued to look down and noticed that one of the towels I was carrying appeared to be on fire.
"Uh, hey, guys."
Everyone was still chatting and not freaking out about the on-fire towel that I was holding, so my somewhat-sleepy brain decided the fire couldn't be that bad. I paused a second and then said, in what I thought was a very loud and firm voice, "I think that I am holding something that is on fire. Please help me put it out."
It took people a moment to turn around and see that, indeed, the towel was on fire. I remember hoping that my dress wasn't on fire and that my hair also wasn't on fire. I considered dropping everything onto the table but I really didn't want to spill the leftovers. Luckily, the towel wasn't too on fire and it was quickly put out. I shifted the pots and towels in my arms so that the burned towel could be brought to the kitchen for a quick dousing of water.
Luckily, the towel I burned was already in somewhat rough condition, compared to the others. And luckily, it was the only thing that I have set on fire in a half-sleeping state. So, here's hoping everything around me stays fire free!
And because there were a lot of pots, and because they were very hot when we brought them over, I wrapped them all in a bunch of towels. I need to look into that cool 3-pot slow cooker carrying station. But I didn't, so there we were, with a plethora of pots and towels and the evening had come to a close and it was time for us to take our pots and towels and be on our merry way.
I had been mildly busy all day and was rather tired at this point. My main goal was to carry as many towels as possible along with two of the pots and to not spill leftovers on my dress. It turns out that my goals were the wrong goals.
As I stood there, yawning and watching as everyone gathered their things and said their good byes, I noticed a smell. It was the kind of smell that you don't want to notice. It was the smell of something burning that maybe shouldn't be burning.
I looked down and noticed there was a jar candle on the table I was standing near. I continued to look down and noticed that one of the towels I was carrying appeared to be on fire.
"Uh, hey, guys."
Everyone was still chatting and not freaking out about the on-fire towel that I was holding, so my somewhat-sleepy brain decided the fire couldn't be that bad. I paused a second and then said, in what I thought was a very loud and firm voice, "I think that I am holding something that is on fire. Please help me put it out."
It took people a moment to turn around and see that, indeed, the towel was on fire. I remember hoping that my dress wasn't on fire and that my hair also wasn't on fire. I considered dropping everything onto the table but I really didn't want to spill the leftovers. Luckily, the towel wasn't too on fire and it was quickly put out. I shifted the pots and towels in my arms so that the burned towel could be brought to the kitchen for a quick dousing of water.
Luckily, the towel I burned was already in somewhat rough condition, compared to the others. And luckily, it was the only thing that I have set on fire in a half-sleeping state. So, here's hoping everything around me stays fire free!
Friday, June 15, 2012
Today was a long day
"I've got some surprises for you when you come home!"
I received that text at about 11am this morning from Smiley and turned to my coworker.
"My husband just texted me the scariest sentence in the world."
She looked me with a patient, amused look.
"He said that he has a surprise for me!"
As my coworker started laughing, my mind was racing through the possibilities. Was he cutting down EVERY tree in the yard? Ripping up all of the carpeting? Getting a new dog? It was important to think like he thinks.
My day crept by slowly. Sort of like a sloth catching a ride on a tortoise slow.
After several of the longest hours ever, I was able to get into my car and drive home to see what was up. Turns out, Smiley had put in new plants by our front door and cleaned up a ton of tree branches in the yard!
So sure, maybe I would have enjoyed coming home to a sparkling bathroom or to find the laundry done but I know those aren't the surprises I can expect with Smiley. But it's ok, because the surprises he does provide are pretty nice too.
Thanks, loving husband!
I received that text at about 11am this morning from Smiley and turned to my coworker.
"My husband just texted me the scariest sentence in the world."
She looked me with a patient, amused look.
"He said that he has a surprise for me!"
As my coworker started laughing, my mind was racing through the possibilities. Was he cutting down EVERY tree in the yard? Ripping up all of the carpeting? Getting a new dog? It was important to think like he thinks.
My day crept by slowly. Sort of like a sloth catching a ride on a tortoise slow.
After several of the longest hours ever, I was able to get into my car and drive home to see what was up. Turns out, Smiley had put in new plants by our front door and cleaned up a ton of tree branches in the yard!
So sure, maybe I would have enjoyed coming home to a sparkling bathroom or to find the laundry done but I know those aren't the surprises I can expect with Smiley. But it's ok, because the surprises he does provide are pretty nice too.
Thanks, loving husband!
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