I'm teh bomb

Last night, Michael and I were talking before going to bed. Like usual.

At one point, I must have been teasing him ... and I remarked something to the effect of, "I laugh at you. That must be the hardest part of this relationship." Or something play-snarky like that.

And he responds: "No, that would be the mood swings."

Me: *laughs*

Him: "It's only funny because it's true!"

Me: *laughs* "Yeah ... You're so right."

He is, you know. I can't argue it at all.
I don't know why he puts up with me more than half the time. But I'm glad he does.

We also talked about the pre-date we went on ... and I asked, since we were also talking about having a sense of humor, if we were snarking about the teen fashion magazines I was reading with him in the van.

We were.

"Well, it's good to start a relationship on the right foot like that." I said.

We still snark very well. If they started a new series of Mystery Science Theater 3000, we could be most excellent. And we wouldn't need to employ any robots, either. :)

Besides, some movies just BEG to be made fun of. Like any movie based on a comic book or video game that attempts to take itself completely seriously. (Do you hear me, Daredevil? I'm casting some glares in your general direction. You're not far behind either, Ghostrider.)

---------------------------------------------

And, for a quick glimpse into my past ... an instance of pure brilliance and wit, I give you a snippet of conversation with a guy that I kinda dated before Michael and I met:

Scene: His apartment. His roommates are home, but not in the living room as we're cuddling.

Him: We shouldn't be doing this here (referring to the cuddling. There's no smoochin' or anything ... what IS his problem?).

Me: (without thinking) Do we need to go out to your van?

*PAUSE*

Him: *speechless* (I think he started to swallow his tongue)

Me: *starts cracking up. Because I can't keep a straight face. Since I was JUST THAT brilliant and witty and amazing. And that doesn't happen ALL the time. So I especially appreciate it when I am.*

Yeah. Sometimes I amaze myself.
I like it when I do that.

I'm, like, FAMOUS!!!

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

Guess what? No! Not that!

Go here. Read down a little ... that second line under the bold "Children's Letters to Raven-Simone.

YES!! I'm that Allanna!!!!

Eric D. Snider totally mentioned me. I'm his "devoted reader"!! (I SO totally am. Ask Bri, Michael or my Mom!)

Squeeeeeee!!!

Michael laughed at how excited I got.

(Yeah, so what if I have a wee celebrity crush on one of the funniest, most satirical humor writers [and he's LDS!] out there?)

I'm such a fan-girl. I don't know if that makes me cooler or less.
But I've pink, puffy-hearted Eric for YEARS.

AND HE TOTALLY MENTIONED ME IN HIS BLOG!!!!!!!!

*does the happy dance*

Okay, now I need to go watch So You Think You Can Dance. Sabra and Dominic are quickly become contenders for my favorite couple (Hok and Jamie will need to stay strong. And I would like Lacey, as the sole Latter-Day Saint, to do well).

Not quite a Walk in the Park ...

So, Tuesday, T calls me up and asks if we want to play (T is only one of my bestest friends ... and has a little boy about six months older than my munchkin brigade). We arrange to meet in the next town over and let the kids play in the fountain/water play area by the riverfront.

 

As you can tell, Bruise and Bucket weren't quite all into it. You can tell since Bucket's close to tears and is running to me so I'll pick her up again.

I ended up holding the both of them (except when T held Bruise) and trying to get them to at least put their hands and feet into the streams of water from the little fountains ... in the process, getting the front of my denim shorts completely soaked. Enough so that, if seen in the right light (since they're a dark wash-type of denim), it totally looked like I had wet myself.

After a few minutes of J (T's son) having fun ... but not as much fun as we had hoped... It was crowded and the other kids there were screaming and running into each other (and ME) ... Well, we decided to head somewhere a little less crowded.

After the kiddos all had their snacks. T had a kid's meal for J with apple juice. Bruise and Bucket had some more peanut butter crackers (you know, like Oreos ... but with fake Ritz cracker with PB filling) and their water bottles.

Here are Bucket and Bruise enjoying the waterfront. (FINALLY.)

  

SO, after we let the kids eat, we took off for Central Park. I put Bruise and Bucket in the swing ... Unfortunately, Bucket was starting to get a little tired ... Or else maybe she just really doesn't like swings? I haven't figured that out. Let's just say that the swing didn't last all that long. (I think maybe about three minutes. Bruise would have enjoyed staying in longer, but, well ... it just wasn't in the cards.)

We would have had the kids play on the slide of in the sand, but with the sun baking it all, J's feet were hurting in his sandals ... and neither T nor I wanted to deal with BTS (burnt tushie syndrome), so the play equipment and the sand were out.

So we let them run in the grass in the shade.

 

 

As you can see, Bucket's a little flirt. I'm gonna have to watch out for her. For all the little boys' sakes.

I didn't put up the pictures of the train going by ... but the kiddos all enjoyed seeing it chug on past. Bruce was THRILLED. He wanted to run to it, pointing.
But mean, cruel mother that I am, I wasn't going to let him throw himself into traffic or onto the tracks.

Yes, I am just that mean. But I did take blurry pictures of his little hand and arm pointing to the wonder and glory that is a chain of open train cars going by.

Now I just have to wonder ... are my children really anti-social? Or was it the cold water they didn't like? Or were the other children being too loud and running around too much? Or Have I just trained my babies to be more comfortable around adults and small numbers of children?

Great ... Now I'm being all neurotic. Great.
I think I'm going to fantasize about eating an entire half gallon of ice cream now. Just to calm myself down.

Or I could play with my kidlets. That would probably be the best idea. ^_^

Conversations before unconsciousness hits

Since, for most of the week, Michael's gone for about 12 hours (including commute time. *sigh* But he likes his coworkers and job, so I'm NOT complaining. Especially since he's the breadwinner. He gets the bacon, I cook it up and try to have a clean-ish home to serve it in. Works for me.), a good deal of our talking takes place right before we fall asleep.

Since, by this point, we're pretty tired ... well, our conversations can get pretty entertaining.

Here are some of the highlights of the week:

Michael quoting from ... I think it's from Wizard: (as Batman) "The Batnipples: I use them to distract my enemies!"
(In reference to the ... evolution of the Batman costume. Specifically to how I still crush on Chris O'Donnell in Batman Forever. *le sigh* ... Yeah. I know I'm not a teenager anymore. But oh, my friends, how I pined to be rescued by Robin. ... Well, that is, if I couldn't be rescued by Gambit ... with his hott Cajun accent and his woo-ing ways. *double le sigh*)

Or, and my friend Stevie should appreciate this. Or anyone from my high school theater department, really...
I had asked Michael, all teasing, "Does that make you feel ... sexual?
And he replies, "I'm a guy. Everything makes me feel sexual."
Yeah, I still laugh about that.
(Back story for people NOT from high school drama: During one play, for whatever reason, Stevie started asking people, after any observation [i.e., "I like cheese" or "It's kinda warm today"], "Does that make you feel [pause for effect] sexual??"

Yeah, I don't know what happened that brought it to her mind to ask people that ... but it is still funny today. Very funny, indeed.

So, yeah.
Oh, and if you haven't already gotten sucked into the wonderful-ness-essence that is Brotherhood 2.0, get thee hence! (I highly recommend the video with Hank singing about Helena, Montana -- partly because it's a catchy, cute song. Partly because you see NEIL GAIMAN! [And, as I have hitherto mentioned, I have a bit of a hero-worship crushlet on that man.])

Or else you could listen to John talk about Nerd Fighters ... he sings a bit. It made MY MOM laugh. Which proves that it's not just my strange sense of humor (since I personally think that LOLcats are HIlarious ... and my mom doesn't get it at all. Neither does Michael, really. But Eric does! YAAAAAAY!!!!)

Speaking of Eric D. Snider (even if I was doing that in parentheses), he totally responded to an email I wrote him (Yes, I AM that much of a fan-girl for him), in which I wrote that I was glad that I'm not the only one liking LOLcats, with "I'm in ur email, reedin ur messages".

Oh yes, I'm still thrilled beyond belief with that. Even if it's been a few months since that happened.
Yes, Eric D. Snider did SO respond to me. More than once!!

I can't tell if I'm cooler because he responded to me ...
Or if I'm more of a nerd because I'm SO! FLIPPIN'! EXCITED! that he has responded to my emails in the past.

Oh!!! And if you want a GREAT book ... and you like romance and stuff ... you should SO. TOTALLY. READ. (And buy!!!) Austenland by Shannon Hale. (I've read her other books -- her Juvenile and Young Adult books. The "Goose Girl series" and "The Princess Academy." I can't complain about ANY of them.) (AND she has another book coming out this fall!!)

And, if you don't mind some profanity and ... um ... stuff you wouldn't want your children doing at college (let alone high school), you should totally read Looking for Alaska by John Green (yeah, the John I referred to in Brotherhood 2.0). I'm looking forward to getting my hands on a copy of An Abundance of Katherines (his second book), too.

Okay, maybe later I'll just do a post of books that you SHOULD. TOTALLY. READ.
But I'm tired of typing now.

Oh, and I went to the local farmer's market today. We got berries and tomatoes. Yum. Bruise is ALL about eating his weight in berries. (I don't think I get enough for that, though.)

Happy Father's Day!

Why my husband totally wins the Father of the Year award (and I'm not being ironic, like I am usually when I talk about how I am soooooo deserving of the Mother of the Year award).

Seriously, though. Michael is DA BOMB(!!!1) when it comes to being a daddy. It's like he's been training for this his entire life (As opposed to be, where I feel like I walked into this final after just skimming the material once or twice, in between playing video games and high-fiving my friends).

To prove that I'm right (about Michael rocking the Daddyhood-dom-ness, not about me playing video games), here's my photographic evidence:

 

Michael lets me browse through the library while he colors with the kiddos. AND he makes sure to give me their artwork before we leave. So, if I EVER start scrapbooking, I have their early work.
And he doesn't complain about how short/small those chairs are.

 

Look at how much Bucket LOVES being around her daddy.
I mean, really, what else can I say?

(Well, besides the fact that his DNA contribution mellows out my drama-queen DNA and makes my kids the cutest EVER. I mean, yeah, Bruise looks more like me at times ... but Bucket takes after her daddy's side SO much. They're a good mix. Meaning that they took the best of everything out of that chromosomal slush and worked it, baby!)

 

Bruise hangs out with Daddy as much as he can. And who can blame him when his Daddy loves him this much? Our kiddos have confidence enough to explore and to be friendly because we've tried hard to make sure they know that they're safe. And Michael's done wonders with them. (And me, too. Heavens above! If he didn't come home to relieve me from parenting duties, I think the world would end.) (No. REALLY.)

 

Michael's also very awesome because he does so much of parenting off-camera. I couldn't even start to describe how great of a daddy he is using only pictures.

He makes Bruise and Bucket laugh. He is always available for hugs and cuddles and kisses. He works to try and understand what they kidlets are thinking in order to help to fully meet their needs ... I could go on and on. But I'll stop before I embarrass him (in case he does read this. ^_^).

In conclusion, I lucked out in the husband/father of my children department. I got a man who enjoys Firefly, one who can snark to cheer me up, one who adores me (which flatters me), and one that I never thought I'd find ... especially since I really don't deserve him (but I'm SO glad he loves me regardless!).

Happy Father's Day, my love!
Bucket, Bruise and I are so glad that we have you!

Picture me and you ... Well, how about my kidlets instead?

Well, I think I owe y'all some pictures, still, right?
Here you go! I hope you enjoy then (not like you could enjoy them half as much as I usually enjoy the subjects!).

Yesterday morning, this is what I got to see --
Obviously Bucket had her hand under her cheek as she slept. Not only was it red and hand-shaped, but you could see where her knuckles were ... and it was INDENTED into her face. Ha! She's hilarious. And not only because she has these dainty little hands whose prints fit all on her cheek!

 

And here's Bruise. I love how happy my little man is. He's especially happy when he can wrestle a teething ring away from Bucket (probably so she won't beat him over the head with it, most likely).

 

This is one of the best reasons for extended breastfeeding.
I mean, seriously! Look at those peepers on that boy!

 

Yeah, I'm still at it, enjoying the extra bonding and cuddles that I get.
And, you know, it's so, so NICE to feel so NEEDED. And to know that I actually am doing something right.
(Yes, this does make the mastitis worth it. Totally.)

And, in closing, this is just about the best photo EVER(!!!1) of my Bucket.

 

Yeah, she's gorgeous. Everyone tells us so. And she knows it, too.
That's why I have to tell her that she's clever AND pretty.
(Also, I do remind her that "Pretty is as pretty does." Even though I'm Yankee, I can teach her good Southern morals [which will please one and one-half sets of her great-grandparents]. ^_^)

Any ideas on the best place to donate articificial baby milk (a.k.a.: f0rmula) that I never used/never will use?
It seems silly to let it go to waste (and take up room in my pantry) when there are other people out there who could use it. Should I just check the yellow pages for shelters?
(It is a little bit of a pressing issue, since some of it expires in July.) Thanks!

Quote: endurance

“I found then as I have found out many times since, that one can endure almost anything.” -- Spencer W. Kimball, on the death of his mother.

What a good quote to recall when I face my trials. I need to remember it more often.

Blood is Thicker Than Breastmilk

... You might not want to ask me how I know this.

An alternate title for today could be "My First Mastitis."

Yesterday, as I loaded the kiddos up (directly post-nap, since I didn't have time to nurse them before we went for their 15/18 month [it was combined. Which saves me $40 in insurance co-pay. Which makes me happy. Since I could use that $40 for shoes. Or books. Or diapers] appointment.)...

(If this entry doesn't read very clearly, bear with me. My brain's still a little fuzzy-feeling.)

As I was saying, I didn't have time to nurse them. Not a huge deal, I was feeling a wee bit engorged (with little lighting bolts of discomfort), but we got to the doctor's just a little bit late. Their appointment went well. They've gained weight (both are leaner than they are tall. Bruise is 1.5 inches taller and 1 pound heavier than Bucket. They have perfect eardrums and are very healthy and happy. They even said "Bye" as their pediatrician left the office. He said that my kids are, and I quote, "So cool." ... That made me happy).
After the kiddos got their shots (DTAP, HiB [which I found out today they didn't need that dose. Oops. No charge, though. Phew!], and their first Hep A), I nursed then a little and, oh, did one side HURT.

Of course, Bucket was throwing a tantrum (complete with laying on the ground, screaming, while kicking her little feet) and Bruise was bawling ... so we got out of there.

I felt VERY tired and a little dizzy as we drove home. I tried to feed the munchkins one more time (as they were still rather hysterical) and then I put them to nap, since I was really useless.

With how much my breast hurt, I figured maybe I had a plugged duct, thinking back to a post that Chris from the Trenches wrote. So I ran a hot bath and worked at hand expressing all that I could to get that duct clear.
Then I got close to passing out (from the hot water, the "discomfort," and trying to heft my 180-pound self out of the tub. So I laid down and slept until Michael got home. I had him give me a blessing and call the clinic to see if maybe I could get a prescription and to get information. Everything kinda blurs together (probably on account of the fever I had. It got up to 104.4 ... I don't think I've had a fever like that since I was Bruise and Bucket's age).

After a second bath and pumping and hand-expressing ... and a cooler shower to help me feel less passy-outy, I felt better. That and Michael gave me some food. Which certainly helped. I had some ibuprofen and was able to socialize with my husband and babies.

Michael had been working at finding a diagnosis through Web M.D., and he was a little worried that the first diagnosis at the top of the list was cancer. Since I researched like crazy (like, I started reading about breastfeeding YEARS before I actually started), I was pretty sure it was either a clogged/plugged duct or mastitis. The only symptom that didn't fit so well (and that got Web M.D. to try and worry my husband) was that the duct that was kinda plugged ... well, instead of breastmilk, it produced blood.

Just to put it rather bluntly, it's disturbing to pump milk that looks like cream of tomato soup. Milk is not supposed to be rusty-pink. (However, I think that I've gotten that cleared up. ... If not, since I'm still nursing, if there are any reports of vampire toddlers ... well, yeah. That'll probably be my fault.)

And, letting that pink milk sit out ... well, the science geek in me was a little impressed to find out for sure that blood is denser than milk. I mean, it makes sense ... I mean, there's more iron in it and everything...

So, today I went to the doctor's. I saw the newest addition to the staff (the receptionist and nurses barely recognized me without my mini-mes following). She was pretty cool. Got my diagnosis, some tips to make the time go by a little easier (pump and nurse all you can, keep the milk flowing, hot baths and compresses ... if it's not better in a week, come in again...), we covered painkiller options (since I still have some of the big-gun painkiller left over from when Bruise and Bucket were born, I can take half-tablets of that ... or the usual ibuprofen and tylenol (Same ol', same ol' ... I'm getting to be a bit of an expert of regular medicines you can take while nursing.)
(As I should be, since I've been doing this for almost 17 months now.)

I saw the really nice pharmacist at Target (why not get prescriptions there? It's practically next door ... and I like the bottles. They're genius!). She took the same antibiotic when she had an infection after her daughter was born.
I really like her. She's probably my mom's age. She's awesome. (The pharmacist. ... AND my mom, to be honest.)

I'm going to take it easy on housework. Just a little folding, cooking, a load of dishes (relax! It's in the dishwasher!!), and picking up the living room's toy explosion extravaganza(!!!!).

Well, my brain is getting cloudy-esque again. I should go take a nap.

I really hope that mastitis never rears its gnarly head among this household or the households of anyone I know ... or anyone that anyone I know knows.
For ever and ever. Amen.

Oh, it's raining. I like how it sounds.

Um ... This is a little embarassing.

I just need to get this off of my chest.

I have a little, teensy crush.

On Neil Gaiman.

That is all.

(Oh, I feel SO much better! Thanks!)