A Little Over 3.5. 8-20-15

A few random updates:

• The main reason I'm posting is that Boop memorized her 1st book earlier this month, Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus. She almost knows the entire book verbatim and only needs a few prompts here and there. 
• Not sure what happened, but she woke up one morning with skin like the texture of misshapen coblestones. Maybe from playing in the yard and helping clean outside. Boop learned the word sphigmomanometer at the doctor's office, and we practiced it for when the doctor came. She actually did get most of the word out for the new doctor, in spite of her being a bit shy.
• She is starting to get better about cleaning her messes by herself--when she wants to, but she's also excelling at making some very frustrating messes. Last night, she just decided to pour the rest of her Benadryl in the middle of the kitchen floor.
• Bedtime is a chore. Note bullet point about Benadryl. Starting about 8:30pm, she runs around like a wild banshee, jumping on beds, and throwing objects. I got her a daybed and painted it purple like she wanted. Unfortunately, the Mickey Mouse sparkle paint did not work out too well. In spite of my efforts to get her bed just right, Boop is not very good about using it, always upset that it is "too hot!" It's the same as mine. Maybe the situation will difuse as cooler weather rolls around, at which time it will undoubtedly be "too cold!" It will also be dark earlier, which may help me usher her to bed at an earlier time.
• Boop has been writing her name for a little while, but I suspect it's more legible for people with dyslexia when she gets going a little too fast. Sometimes it's rightside up, sometimes upside down, sometimes backwards, but mostly a combination of the 3. But at 3.5, I feel pretty good about her progress.
• She's a big girl, and it's a bit hard for her to get all those muscles to cooperate. If coordination is a problem for her, she came by it honest; plus the fact that her development hasn't quite caught up to the big body it must command. She's getting there. We're working on coloring inside the lines. Sorry John Mayer (no, not really. A millenial, she is not). 
• Winnie is still hanging tough. She's coughing more due to the heart murmur, but she can bound up and down the stairs without missing a beat. When we took her to the pet store for her birthday in July to pick out a present, the shelter volunteers were shocked to learn that our puppy was really 13 years old!
• As for me, I'm still trying to get my stuff together. Life happens. I'm coming down after several weeks of steroids from poison ivy. School starting is always measured chaos. Trying to find time to do fun things for Boop, as she's only this age once. Trying to make sure she is doing enrichment activities, too. For example, last Saturday, we ran from Boop's music class to a birthday party for Boop's friend to opening ceremonies for my school. I think these things will only get worse. 
• The good news is that the finanical planner felt pretty comfortable with me retiring in 8 years--not that I ever really would quit working entirely, especially since retiring at that age would mean living at a bare minimum.
• And so that's Boop waking up. I call her Broadway Baby. She sings every move that she's making. Apparently, she is making her grand entrance down the stairs. 

Lost. 4-2-15

Many different streams of thought brought me to think about my cousin, A. She was a older than me, and I just thought she was wonderful. As a teenager, she always took extra time for me, French braided my hair, entertained me. Most of my cousins were good to me, too, but I didn't get to see A that much. I remember we went up to stay with her grandparents for her uncle's wedding, and she made sure I had a good time. I remember Julian Lennon was in heavy rotation on MTV at the time, and A was just crazy about him—maybe she even said he was ‘dreamy’. But she could say it with complete sincerity, such a sweet person. And of course, I was his fan, too. She took good care of her little brother and seemed so loved--which is why I never understood how things went so awry. I still don’t. Drugs? It’s not an explanation. We lost her long before we actually did. Tragic, I guess that’s what it means. Now, her little brother takes great care of her little guy. And so it is with loss. We never really know what is going on in people’s heads. And in the end, we’re left to try to understand.  

Primal Scream Therapy?
Whatever works...

Taking Stock at 30 Months. 5-16-14

Here’s what’s happening at 30 Months:
·         Boop is an avid YouTube watcher. She loves to watch the kiddie music clips, and it’s hard to keep it in check. Fortunately, she doesn’t watch anything at daycare, but when she gets home, she starts asking. We still read lots of books. And I wish I had more energy to get her out and about. She loves to sing and is able to get more and more of the words. Hopefully, I’ll make better use of the pool pass this year. Boop is still a live wire, but she’s a bit more manageable.
·         I’m not really sure if Boop had a UTI after all. Nothing showed up on culture at 24 hrs. I sent a message to her new nephrologist, but I still haven’t heard back after a week. It’s the same support staff as her last nephrologist. Honestly, they need to get it together. I would love to take her back to the place out of state, but my insurance won’t really cover it. I need to take a bit more time to check out the state insurance exchange. I think she could get better coverage for what I’m paying now, but my annual window to change ended while I was in full tilt grant-writing mode. Fortunately, my previous elections rolled over to this year; so I didn’t lose everything.
·         Poor Winnie. That’s all I can say. It’s been a week on antibiotics, and I’m still waking to her accidents. I got up at 3am, and there was already one waiting for me in the carpet. I stared at it for a couple of hours and finally got up the gumption to clean it. I need to figure out how to use the little carpet cleaner I bought last year.  
·         I still feel overwhelmed by stuff. I try so hard to keep up with it. I sent Mom home with 2 huge boxes of stuff that she got for Boop but that Boop didn’t use/had outgrown. That’s roughly equivalent to the amount of stuff she’s gotten Boop in the past month—I’m just trying to break even, at this point. Notice the piles and boxes of stuff to get rid of in the video below.
·         It’s good that we seem to be emerging from the snow. It’s been a cold, snowy winter. Of course, it’s rained for the better part of the week, but it looks like things may be a bit drier today. Maybe I’ll try walking to work today. 

Easter Morning

Nightmares. 5-14-14

Boop is sleeping better these days, but Winnie is waking up a lot with her UTI. Nearly a week on antibiotics, and Winnie still doesn't seem to be much better. The first thing this morning, I stepped in one of her accidents. Yargh. Along with the lack of sleep from the disturbances in the night, there's also the interruption of my dreams--making me more likely to remember them. Night before last, I had a couple of bad ones. One of the recurring themes in nightmares is me walking alone on a very dark street. At least, in the most recent one, I didn't have Boop with me, too, and I wasn't passing a cemetery. However, I had an even scarier one. 

The dream starts with me not really fully comprehending what I'm seeing. A man murdering a woman and trying to replace a lightbulb that was damaged in the struggle. His name was Rev--maybe the TV was on with the commercial about those Rev sandwiches? Anyway. So, this house was full of my family, and the weather was bad (we were having storms outside). Rev came to the get-together, and it all clicked in my mind. I was trying to sort out what to do. I pulled my mom aside and told her about the murder. She said, "Okay," and went on about her business. Rev knew that I knew at this point and was now wanting to kill me. I knew I needed help. I stopped my mother again, and I once again told her about the murder. She replied, "You should tell someone." I picked up the telephone and tried to call 911, but the phone wasn't working properly. The next thing I knew, everyone was gone, and I could sense Rev was there watching me. I'm trying to figure out where everyone went and what to do about Rev. That's when I hear Winnie's feet thumping on the floor and the pitter patter of her paws. Part of this may have been inspired by the hijacking on Walker, Texas Ranger. Either Walker needs to suddenly appear in my dream to save the day, or I'll be leaving TVLand off for a few hours in the afternoon. The latter seems like the best solution... Just relieved Boop wasn't at risk in these events!  

Tempachew. 3-26-14

I'm so far behind. So far behind.

I was up half the night getting ready for the consignment sale. Wow, so many "i"s to dot and "t"s to cross for this one. Hopefully, I have cleared all of the hurdles. Coughing and difficulty breathing made it pointless to try to sleep any way. Boop was so kind as to share her ailment, but I don't think she's had it as bad as me. My voice totally left me sometime yesterday evening, and I'm trying to rest my throat so I can do another smoking cessation lab tomorrow. On top of all of the craziness, we got a couple of inches of snow this morning. Wait, didn't we just have spring last week?

So, I'm trying to get us all sorted and out the door in time for Boop to get breakfast at daycare. Boop looked up at me and said, "Mommy take tempachew." I was trying to make sure I had everything. I grabbed her bag, thinking maybe that's what she said. "Mommy take tempachew." I looked at her as she seemed pretty intent. "I don't understand," I whispered as loud as I could. "Mommy take tempachew." "Oh! You want Mommy to take her temperature. Yes, that's right. Mommy's sick, but I'll take care of it. Don't worry." She then pointed to my coat: "Mommy zip it." "Okay, Mommy will zip her coat up. That's good Boop." She can be a bitter pill at moments, but it's times like these that put it all in perspective.

And so, I'm sitting, hoping the codeine cough syrup will kick in so I can get some sleep. Getting out of the car at the urgent care this morning, I was thinking: how can people keep smoking if they can't breathe any better than me? There was something on the radio talking about emphysema being like trying to breathe through a straw. Stop smoking.

I'm Right. 2-19-14

Yesterday, Boop turned 2 years, 1 month. I still haven't posted the stuff from when she turned 2. I'm just slogging away on stuff for work; due dates are very near. However, a quote from Bertrand Russell caught my eye this morning on Twitter, 

"I would never die for my beliefs because I might be wrong." 

Aside from winning the Nobel Prize, this is a smart guy. Sounds like the kind of guy I could live with. He's not too far from admitting that I am always right. 

Guess that's why I don't have a Nobel Prize. My friends and I should nominate each other. Can we do that? 

This is what happens after many days of sleep deprivation.

Face of the Earth. 2-12-14

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, that would be too easy for me. I've got a couple of grants due at the end of the month that I started much too late. But there's no way to start them early enough. And there's no way to have enough time. I would say you can definitely be too skinny, but you can never have enough time for a grant.
The good and bad news is that my nice flat panel TV finally gave up the ghost, yep, right at the start of the Olympics. Good IF I would have taken advantage of the quiet and got more work done. Bad as I quickly missed my TV (How can I get any work done with a toddler?) and had to dig out the smaller TV that I was going to put in my room. Thank goodness I was tempted by the crazy Black Friday deals and ordered it last November.
I got into a minor fender bender. Of course, my car got the worst of it. Thankfully, Boop wasn't with me. I had been putting off some other minor work on my car, but I guess I should just bite the bullet and get it done. Because I have so much time, ahem.
On Sunday, I had a babysitter lined up; so I could go to the office and get a couple of hours work done. I got to the office, and my computer wouldn't let me in. No tech support. Time wasted. Money wasted. Yesterday, it was official. The operating system bit the dust; let's hope that's all. I'm nervous about writing on it now; I've already lost some stuff. Maybe I'll just resort to my hammer and chisel and knock these grants out on a stone tablet. My grants WILL get out if it is at all within my power.
There were plenty of other unfortunate events (did I mention that Boop poured out half a bottle of perfume on a cloth chair? Fortunately it was an old one that went immediately to the road!), but I'll just stop here.

Yum, baked pasta and banana!

Rolling in the New Year. 1-1-14

New Year’s Eve. I got up early, checked my Year End Report, and realized a whole section was missing. So, when Boop got up, we went straight over to my office. Thank goodness for the Wiggles. It kept her still long enough to get the last few entries.  However, the Wiggles can’t cure all of my ills. In spite of us being out in the morning and going out to dinner with a friend, she managed to:

1. Dump out a whole bottle of Baby Wash in the closet, as I was looking for clothes. I’m still holding my breath that it didn’t ruin my cute little, cloth-covered stool.

2. Flush a third of a roll of toilet paper down the toilet in one big mass. Thankfully, it wasn’t in the commode that continually gets clogged. I’ve already had to pull that toilet and plunge it multiple times.

3. Pee on the floor. She wants to run around naked, or at least without a diaper. No fun to attempt to get out of the carpet. Fortunately, I keep Winnie’s Nature’s Miracle on hand.

4. Take the top off the humidifier, leaving it on just enough to leak water all over the night stand. My phone and remote were laying in a puddle of water but are still functional, thank goodness.

5. She crumbled the bag of Life cereal, and then she dumped half of it in the floor before I could grab the bag out of her hand.

She didn’t take her nap until about 5pm; so it was a long, feisty day. Today, I got her down a little earlier. I’m trying to figure out what on earth she’s done to the TV this time. I finally have gotten a picture, at least, but it is very, very distorted. Oh, and this morning, we had our first Code Yellow at Target. Boop hid somewhere and nearly gave her momma a heart attack! Thankfully, it was early in the morning, few people were there, and she was quickly found. But, mercy sakes, I wanted to spank her! The worst part is that after the code, she came running to me along with a salesperson, hopping and giggling. ROTTEN!!

Even My Toys Were Rejected. 12-17-13

Tomorrow, Boop will be 23 months old. I guess I should feel some accomplishment in that, handful that she is. It won’t be any easier with the turmoil of the holidays. I have that chaos to look forward to, but I need to focus on positive things.

Today has been such a downer. I woke up and was reminded by FB that it is my cousin’s birthday. That’s good. Then, I remember that my dad would have been 64. I don’t let myself think about it. I got to work, sent a proposal for a class I’m teaching next year, but then found out that I need to re-do. Next, I found out that neither of my grants will be funded. Just typing it is painful. Such great news right before the holidays, groan. And yesterday, I submitted another smaller one, which I know has no chance. It was down to the wire, and one of the folks didn’t come through. It’s sunk, too. And over the last 3 weeks or so, I’ve gotten 3 manuscripts with revisions needed; some I don’t know if I can manage. One of the manuscripts is on its FOURTH revision. Honestly, just publish it already. We had about 5 people working on the last revision, and I just don’t understand it.

Okay, and so here is the crown jewel. I took some of Boop’s old toys to the firehouse to give to the less fortunate, and they wouldn’t take them. Apparently, this firehouse does not take toy donations. So, it wasn’t exactly as if they were rejecting the toys, but it could have so thrown me over the edge. Very awkward. They at least suggested some other places that might be interested. I want this stuff out of my way. Coming home to my toy-packed house is even more overwhelming. Every time I think about moving, I look at all of this stuff, and it seems insurmountable.

And so tonight, I’m meeting some friends, with little Boop in tow, to have a bit of dinner and hopefully a glass of wine. Then, tomorrow, I get to try to regroup and then be apologetic to those who were optimistic, to those who had also put some effort into this. Maybe I’ll devote a little more time than usual to finding a new career.   

Summer's Gone (and 75 Cents). 9-26-13

Where did summer go? In spite of getting a pool pass for the summer, we only used it 5-6 times for about a half hour each. We just about broke even. I figure it was some combination of crazy grant deadlines and bad weather (too hot, too cold, too rainy--any excuse I could use for venturing out of the house at that moment) that kept us away. And then, all of the sudden, the local schools opened in mid-August and the pool was drained. It was a bit of a shock to drive by one morning on my way to daycare and see the pool empty. 'Well, I guess we definitely won't go to the pool this weekend,' I thought. Bummer. I just found our pool pass... more on that later.

So, I felt a little redeemed when I found a blow-up pool at Homegoods. 'Ah, we can get in one last time in the pool.' This as the temp was in the mid-60's. 'We WILL have one last hurrah, even if I have to boil water!' Last Friday, it was supposed to be warm, almost 80. Mom had my air pump and came in for a visit on Friday, but I didn't catch her in time to tell her to bring it. So, I devised a plan to take the pool over to the local gas station and pay 75 cents to blow up the thing at the tire air machine. I was feeling pretty clever--I love to beat the system, but you know, it didn't work. 

It's supposed to be warm tomorrow, but I'm not feeling like I have enough hot air (I'll refrain from some bad pun this time). The store didn't have the kind of air pump I wanted; so I'm feeling much less confident. And so it goes with getting older. Time is gone before you know it. 1 day becomes 20 months; 30 years becomes 40. The unfortunate limitations you've noticed in others become less and less amusing and more and more real. And so it is with summers and birthdays. Hope you had a good one. 

Mental Glitch. 8-22-13

Wow, am I having trouble. I can't figure out how old my daughter is. I just called the pediatrician telling them I'm late for Boop's 18 month appointment and shots. But is that right? Did I celebrate her 18 month birthday in the wrong month?
 
The person that answered the telephone at the pediatrician's office kept asking me over and over about scheduling her 18 month well-child visit, counting months, and I was beginning to doubt myself. She was 12 months in January. Add 6 months to each, and you get 18 months in July. That's right. And she just turned 19 months. I was going back through my blogs trying to convince myself that I wasn't a complete dimwit! Thankfully, I have at least convinced myself that I wasn't a complete dimwit where my daughter's birthday is concerned. 


I'm wondering where Miss Boop will be this time. I'm guessing around the 85th%ile. If she continues at this rate, your average New Zealand ball player will have to stand on someone's shoulders to keep up with her. She has all the feistiness to take them all on! I guess summer vacation is over.

Mommy's little helper. This is looking good to me. She's getting there!

Trip to the Hospital, Part 5. 5-21-13

Finally, after many stops, I was there in Castro, and my arrival was marked by the blaring of horns and a large, er, man, complete with hairy, beer-gut, wearing a blonde, curly wig, in black brassiere and hot pants, heels, holding a sign that read, “Honk if you think I’m sexy.” A friendly couple pointed me to the Walgreens, which was apparently the place to be, attracting fellow ill folks from across the span of San Francisco. The guy in front of me appeared to have Noonan's syndrome, and I was trying not to continue diagnosing him during the monotonous wait. I gave them Mom’s scripts, and they said to give them an hour. So, I went across the street to grab a quick bite to eat. 

I figured I’d take the cab home since it would be late, and I had a $20, which would be enough for one way. If you know the Castro district on a Saturday night, you’re laughing. By the time I got Mom’s meds, it was almost 8pm, and every taxi I saw had a fare. So, I walked and walked. All taxis full. I walked until the lights weren’t as bright and the folks were thinning. All taxis full. Then, I decided to head over to the muni and just ride back. There were plenty of people out; so I felt relatively safe and walked the few blocks from the muni to the hotel. I nearly ran into a slumped over man who was pushing his cart, probably trying to find his place to sleep. I quickly said, “Excuse me, Sir.” He looked up, gave me the once over, maybe decided that I was sincere, and smiled.

We wound up spending our extra day down at Fisherman’s Wharf, and then we had a leisurely trip to the airport. Soon after I checked in my clothes at the airport, Boop got sick all over herself, our carry-on bags, and me THREE times. It was an un-fun ride home. Why do I always have to ride back from CA with puke on me that isn’t my own?  

Trip to the Hospital, Part 3. 5-3-13

Mom was on the verge of collapse at this point. She was sure she had food poisoning; I’m still working with the virus theory. We managed to get her into the cab with a driver who didn’t know where he was going. Fortunately, I deciphered one of my sets of scribbles to pronounce the address of the nearby ER. I was strategizing and began barking more orders. “Mom, I want you to go and set down on the curb and I will take care of getting Boop sorted.” So, I managed baby, diaper bag and stroller, and got Boop situated. As I was getting us all out, I saw a lady from the hospital pushing a wheelchair. I quickly looked up and thought, “Thank you, sweet Jesus!” I called over to her to help us. Mom was getting sick on the curb, which by some great fortune to the people of San Francisco was right at the storm drain. We were drawing attention of folks walking by. A husky woman hollered out at my mother from her utility truck as she waited at the red light. Her expression was of disgust, but I think she was genuinely concerned, “Is someone helping you?” I was a little annoyed as I was trying to get the baby in her stroller. “Yes, I am!”

The taxi took off with us on the curb. I am relieved. We made it! Meanwhile the lady with the wheelchair promptly informs us that she can’t help us. She said we needed to go get the taxi back to take us around the corner to the entrance of the ER, that we were at the front entrance. The taxi was already down the block, and I had a 13 month old in a stroller and a mom getting sick in the storm drain. With that I lost it, “This is some welcome to San Francisco! Is this how you treat people that visit your city? My mother is sick, and you won’t help us!?!” With that, 2 passers-by offered to help. One was thinking she would run in to the front information desk and request another wheel chair. But about that time, the little lady with the wheel chair got off her phone and said she had approval to take my mother.

Trip to the Hospital, Part 2. 5-3-13

So, Mom wasn’t feeling quite right. We were supposed to catch our flight at about 4pm. I was dreading the long flight home with Boop. We had planned to make a quick trip to get some souvenirs for folks back home before heading out. Mom was getting more and more ill. So, I had been wanting Vietnamese and headed out to Little Vietnam, but the area was still asleep. There wasn’t much in the way of restaurants, anyway. There was much in the way of urine and pot smell, unfortunately, and the street folk were just starting to rouse. One little restaurant, I walked in and asked if they had a menu. The woman looked at me like I was crazy and said flatly, ‘No.’ Closer to the hotel, I found a place that was chock full of Vietnamese folk and managed a very good meal.

Chinatown, a couple of days before Mom got sick

When I returned, Mom was worse—couldn’t stand the smell of my food. So, Boop and I quickly noshed, and the two of us made a quick trip to China Town to pick up a few things, mostly for Mom’s work. <Hm. This seems familiar. Wasn’t I getting her souvenirs in New Orleans last year?> Mom was pretty confident that this would pass. I told her to call her doctor to get a script. She said she didn’t have a primary care doctor right now. <I was at a public health conference. Maybe there’s some irony there?> Boop and I hurried back. We needed to leave for the airport in an hour or so, but Mom was getting worse. Mom finally agreed to go to the ER, but she wouldn’t go by ambulance. The hotel desk kept offering to get a doctor-on-call. What? Do I look like I’m made out of money? However, they eventually offered the name of the closest ER, and security came upstairs with a wheel chair. I was burning up the phone lines with the hotel and the airlines. Good there’s a flight at 10 tomorrow; so we will only be home a half day late. Winnie can manage that, I thought.

Revelation. 3-31-13

I was so overwhelmed when I returned home from visiting with my mother this past weekend. My house was a total wreck. My life is too complicated. My job is too taxing.

I don't want to be a hoarder. Possessions are fleeting and a nuisance. I am in the process of selling all of my earthly belongings and closing up shop. I've decided that Boop and I are moving to a nunnery in a nearby town to escape it all for a while.

Fortunately, I acquired a number of little black dresses while on a recent shopping expedition. These should serve me well in my new locale, if not a bit too form fitting. At least, one has an empire waist (if paired with leggings the shortness might be overcome).

It is my understanding that Winnie will be employed in the dining commons, to clean up after meals, and thus, she will be a welcome addition.

The Weekend. 2-26-13

It’s 2am, and my mind is buzzing. I was trying to pull together an exam for yesterday, and this was complicated by the fact that my assistant had never given an exam before. He tried, and I appreciate him hanging in there. But it magnified my stress level.

Poor Baby!

I got behind this weekend for a couple of reasons. For one, I was traveling for work on Thursday and Friday; so I didn’t have much time in the office before needing to finish the exam. The other reason is that most of my Saturday was taken up by a very unfortunate event. I had planned to do a bit of work on my exam while Mom was still in town and could help with the baby.

Mom had taken Winnie for a walk after we returned from errands. They were gone a while, and I was starting to wonder what had happened. I figured I would wait a bit, as I didn’t want to spur friction if I went to look for them. Not long later, we got a call from the dog park. A dog had attacked Winnie. So, I grabbed Boop and went down to see what had happened. The owner was there, and I looked him square in the eye and said, “You need to pay to have her evaluated.” Winnie was bleeding, and we tried to find a pen to take down his information.

One of the people we encountered while in search of a pen was walking back from a nearby ball game. She just happened to be a vet. She agreed that she needed to go to the vet, and we both thought it would require a few stitches and some antibiotics for infection. As it was Saturday afternoon, vet offices were closed; so after getting the fellow’s name, we head to the animal hospital in a nearby town. As it turns out, our initial assessment was wrong.

Taking Stock at Boop’s Week 57. 2-22-13

Here’s what’s happening at Boop’s week 57:

• She almost has it. Boop has almost figured how to blow kisses. She gets that she needs to touch her lips, but the blowing the kiss part hasn’t quite sunk in, yet. It won’t be long.
• Hallelujah! Winnie got rid of her UTI. Not sure what is going on there, why she has had so many. The new vet put her on a different antibiotic, and she’s doing better. Fingers crossed, it lasts a while. She still is scratching and biting a lot; so that is something different than the UTI’s, I guess.
• Our first overnight apart so I could travel for work. It seems to be going well. Mom came in to take care of her. We tried to maintain a decent schedule as much as possible. So, she still went to daycare; there was just no me to nurse at lunch. We skyped, and she recognized me on the screen.
• I just can’t seem to get it all done. I gave up the BBC on my Twitter feed as it was overwhelming and have been trimming other folks I follow on Twitter and Facebook. I’m trying to check it less frequently. Boop has been staying at daycare a little longer in the afternoons as I try to wrap things up at the office. I’m still looking for ways to get a little extra time here and there.

Blur Week. 10-14-12

Hm. Blur Week. I wish that meant that I had seen Blur this past week—Parklife!--, but unfortunately, it’s more a statement of the chaos. I’ll be so glad when one of my classes is over.  Plus, I have a grant due next week. Plus, I had to give a talk this week. Plus, I have to give a talk next week. It never ends. I was also trying to come to the house before or after I nursed Boop to make sure Winnie got a chance to go out. Thankfully, Winnie is having fewer and fewer accidents in the house. I haven’t seen any in the bed for several days. That was the pits, constantly having to strip down the beds and wash everything. I’ve got one more load of blankets to do, but I’m through with most of the laundry from that time. I had hoped that I would get a chance to wash the futon cover at the Laundromat, but that may need to wait for Mom to come back.

Boop has been doing pretty well. I know it’s tough on her when I have to change her schedule, especially stay late. I remember being on the second run of the bus and having to stay behind while all of the other kids left school, and I was even older. Fortunately, Boop is fairly adaptable about these things. Our reduced formula has been working out pretty well. They give her an extra bottle on my late days, and that seems to help her make it until I get to daycare. I keep telling myself it won’t be much longer until my classes slack up, and Boop won’t be nursing so much for much longer. She’s nearly 9 months old. 

Wired. 10-9-12

My mind is humming, and I can’t go to sleep. I’m exhausted. I’m feeling a bit moody. Winnie got up 3 times last night to go to potty outside. Although I’m glad she didn’t use the floor as her toilet, I do wish she could hold it a bit longer. And then on top of that, Boop still wants to nurse every hour or two at night. Then, she starts to cluster feed starting about 4am.

And work is intense. I have a talk at a conference on Friday, leading 2 classes per week, a grant due. Other reviews and such are hanging out there to be done. Then, tonight I got a couple of work emails about things going awry. I’m so thankful that my helper came over to babysit for a couple of hours. I was able to get some of my reading done for class tomorrow, even though it was a bit noisy hanging around. I feel a bit stuck.

It freaked me out that when I went to the daycare to nurse Boop at lunch, that it took me a minute to realize that she was sitting right in front me. Goodness, don’t I recognize my own child? She seems to be doing okay in spite of my stress. I should take consolation in that. 

So Behind. 9-21-12

I've gotten so behind on posting. I've just been swamped. The week I got home, goodness, that's been nearly two weeks ago. I was fumbling to catch up. Two classes, even though one is a seminar, is pretty intense. I just found out I've been assigned to 3 service committees on top of everything else, and of course, I'm on a few other service committees too. That doesn't include grants and projects. Anyway, let me backtrack a bit. 

Boop picked ninja leg warmers to wear!

Monday (9-10-12) was a tough day to get going. Boop and I were both exhausted. Thank goodness I only had Seminar scheduled. Of course, I had a million other things on the agenda. Even though I'm not formally teaching, I still have to be on guard in case things go awry. And my preparation turned out to be a good idea for that seminar. My class of objectivists were trying to learn constructionism and subjectivism. It was all about epistemologies, which of course, is right up my alley. What is reality? And how do we go about knowing things? I'm not the best at epistemologies, but I guess I can hold my own. Our presenters were having a bit of trouble. I saw the confusion on everyone's faces, but I was hesitant to interrupt. Fortunately, my colleague jumped in to express her confusion. That was my opening, and I tried a few explanations. Then, I saw a flicker of recognition on the students faces. Thank goodness!