Friday, November 14, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Facebook Phenomenon
Jake and I have fallen into the Facebook Phenomenon!! I am not as addicted as I was the first and second day, looking up old friends from my childhood and college days, but Jake...oh my goodness! The man is Facebook crazed! He uploads photos of the babies and family, his list of friends is HUGE, and when he gets home he posts his doings for the rest of the evening. They change as often as his activity changes. I am witnessing some nerd streaks that have been dormant for several years, or at least burried under diapers and his fascination with his beard.
It has been very fun to connect with old friends and with new friends who are just getting introduced to the Facebook community. I had heard from my little brother that it was "STUPID! A time waster! and very highschool!!" All of his comments were extrememly accurate, but for parents of little people who have very little social contact with adults and sometimes we don't even leave the house on any given day, this has been a fabulous reach into the real world! It is still out there! Everything has continued to go on with out us, and it is so fun to sort of be a part of it again.
During Jake's late work schedule last Friday, I packed up the babies and made a trip back to Iowa City. We had a great time hanging out with the grandparents and aunts and uncle. Iain knows his way around the house, and instead of a tumble down the stairs, only smashed his hand in the piano on this trip. He is learning the ins and outs at the Farm but his two most favorite things are: the book The Wheels on the Bus that has moving parts, and playing the piano. He calls for me to come and sit with him at the bench so that we can play together. "Ma! Maaaa!!" When I go to look for him, he is perched on the piano bench and when he sees me, dramatically pats the bench requesting me to sit beside him. He does the same thing when he needs me to read to him. I get caught up in the adult conversation with my family, and time flies by! When he is off on his own, I don't think of entertaining him, especially if he is fine by himself. It tugs my heart strings, to know that he misses me and wants some of my company-even when he is in a new place and proving his independence.
The one bad thing about the trip was staying over. I was without my comrade...and therefore, double teaming the babies throughout the night. Iain had a bit of a croupe cough to start out, and then Fiona needed to eat. I had brought Iain in the big bed with me, but when I started to feed Fiona, he thought it was party hour and feeling much better decided to jump around...in the pitch, black, dark room!! Being out on a farm without a security light, there is not a street light to even give a slight edge to the darkness (especially with the room darkening shades). Without my glasses on, I was feeding Fiona with one arm, and reaching for the desk lamp so that I could track Iain down. When the light hit, everyone thought it was party time! Brutus looked up from his bed, Fiona looked up at me and started to squeal and Iain continued to jump on the bed. I was exhausted! "This is not a party! It is 3:30 in the morning, we need to be quiet!!"There were a few more incidencies, so the drive home the next day was quite long for mom.
We had a fabulous dinner party here the following night with the pulled pork, fancy mac'n' cheese, and homemade apple pie trifecta. It was a great hit, and although I was behind on my cooking because the washing machine had backed up for the fifth time in two weeks!...my guests were very helpful and forgiving with dinner about 30 minutes late. There were five little men running around the house, and it was so fun to have a full house of people! Fiona was very excited since she could have her pick out of the four guests at some point in her life...she was safely kept in the exer-saucer while the commotion went on around her. All of the little men were enamoured of the baby for a little while, but then it was on to running around and pushing the car around the house.
After a great success, and fabulous left-overs for us the following day, I noticed a general malaise coming upon me accompanied by the chills. With as many cups of tea, thousands of miligrams ofvitamin C and viles of yin chiou being pumped into my veins, I was digressing by the hour and popped the Motrin IB down the hatch without a glance behind me. I am not a nap taker, but this violent bug was rushing over me quickly, and thankfuly Jake had the day off. I told him I would just lie down on the futon for a little while and could he supervise the babies. I fell asleep for maybe 15 minutes and the rest of the time, I was faking. There was a little man, who so tenderly kept coming to my shoulder and saying "Ma? Hi!" I think Iain was utterly confused as to why I should be lying down during the middle of the afternoon.
I could only eat a bite of my dinner, and after the surge from the drugs, it was time to go to bed. I fed Fiona an entire banana with some other components to make a big bowl of "baby gruel" The little pig-pig ate the entire thing!! I was so thankful! I couldn't get warm in bed that night, even lying next to my nuclear reactor bed partner. I started to feel waves of nausea, and even though I felt it was inevitable, I hate to puke. I am the type of person that would do anything instead of puking! I kept pushing the thoughts away, and tried to sleep in hopes that this would pass. If you are that type of puke hater, when you push it down for so long, it has to come eventually and then it is really going to make you pay! I don't know that puking can be a delicate thing for anyone, but just like my children, I am a violent puker.
I just wanted my mother, but it was the middle of the night. In his codine induced sleep, Jake didn't hear me until I started to whimper to him to please get me some paper towels to clean the bathroom and a washcloth for my face. He brought me a kitchen rag, and then rinsed it in cold water...he was barely awake, and I didn't have the strength to demand a nicer rag to wipe off my face. I realized again, that no one takes care of the mom like she takes care of everyone else. I guess no one would know the difference between a kitchen rag or a plush bathroom rag if I only washed them with kitchen rags. It is because I notice the difference and make the effort with my offspring and my husband that I would just hope that they could see in the linen closet, there is a difference. They are even on a different shelf! This is the same reason why I feel my babies should have a matress pad between their matress and the sheet, and that a bed should have sheets in order to be slept upon. Jake does not share this same attention to details...sometimes he does, and I am searching for an example. I will restate, in the department of linens, Jake does not see the importance of a washcloth instead of a dishrag. It is all very vexing. But "...he loves me, and that makes him man enough for me!"
It has been very fun to connect with old friends and with new friends who are just getting introduced to the Facebook community. I had heard from my little brother that it was "STUPID! A time waster! and very highschool!!" All of his comments were extrememly accurate, but for parents of little people who have very little social contact with adults and sometimes we don't even leave the house on any given day, this has been a fabulous reach into the real world! It is still out there! Everything has continued to go on with out us, and it is so fun to sort of be a part of it again.
During Jake's late work schedule last Friday, I packed up the babies and made a trip back to Iowa City. We had a great time hanging out with the grandparents and aunts and uncle. Iain knows his way around the house, and instead of a tumble down the stairs, only smashed his hand in the piano on this trip. He is learning the ins and outs at the Farm but his two most favorite things are: the book The Wheels on the Bus that has moving parts, and playing the piano. He calls for me to come and sit with him at the bench so that we can play together. "Ma! Maaaa!!" When I go to look for him, he is perched on the piano bench and when he sees me, dramatically pats the bench requesting me to sit beside him. He does the same thing when he needs me to read to him. I get caught up in the adult conversation with my family, and time flies by! When he is off on his own, I don't think of entertaining him, especially if he is fine by himself. It tugs my heart strings, to know that he misses me and wants some of my company-even when he is in a new place and proving his independence.
The one bad thing about the trip was staying over. I was without my comrade...and therefore, double teaming the babies throughout the night. Iain had a bit of a croupe cough to start out, and then Fiona needed to eat. I had brought Iain in the big bed with me, but when I started to feed Fiona, he thought it was party hour and feeling much better decided to jump around...in the pitch, black, dark room!! Being out on a farm without a security light, there is not a street light to even give a slight edge to the darkness (especially with the room darkening shades). Without my glasses on, I was feeding Fiona with one arm, and reaching for the desk lamp so that I could track Iain down. When the light hit, everyone thought it was party time! Brutus looked up from his bed, Fiona looked up at me and started to squeal and Iain continued to jump on the bed. I was exhausted! "This is not a party! It is 3:30 in the morning, we need to be quiet!!"There were a few more incidencies, so the drive home the next day was quite long for mom.
We had a fabulous dinner party here the following night with the pulled pork, fancy mac'n' cheese, and homemade apple pie trifecta. It was a great hit, and although I was behind on my cooking because the washing machine had backed up for the fifth time in two weeks!...my guests were very helpful and forgiving with dinner about 30 minutes late. There were five little men running around the house, and it was so fun to have a full house of people! Fiona was very excited since she could have her pick out of the four guests at some point in her life...she was safely kept in the exer-saucer while the commotion went on around her. All of the little men were enamoured of the baby for a little while, but then it was on to running around and pushing the car around the house.
After a great success, and fabulous left-overs for us the following day, I noticed a general malaise coming upon me accompanied by the chills. With as many cups of tea, thousands of miligrams ofvitamin C and viles of yin chiou being pumped into my veins, I was digressing by the hour and popped the Motrin IB down the hatch without a glance behind me. I am not a nap taker, but this violent bug was rushing over me quickly, and thankfuly Jake had the day off. I told him I would just lie down on the futon for a little while and could he supervise the babies. I fell asleep for maybe 15 minutes and the rest of the time, I was faking. There was a little man, who so tenderly kept coming to my shoulder and saying "Ma? Hi!" I think Iain was utterly confused as to why I should be lying down during the middle of the afternoon.
I could only eat a bite of my dinner, and after the surge from the drugs, it was time to go to bed. I fed Fiona an entire banana with some other components to make a big bowl of "baby gruel" The little pig-pig ate the entire thing!! I was so thankful! I couldn't get warm in bed that night, even lying next to my nuclear reactor bed partner. I started to feel waves of nausea, and even though I felt it was inevitable, I hate to puke. I am the type of person that would do anything instead of puking! I kept pushing the thoughts away, and tried to sleep in hopes that this would pass. If you are that type of puke hater, when you push it down for so long, it has to come eventually and then it is really going to make you pay! I don't know that puking can be a delicate thing for anyone, but just like my children, I am a violent puker.
I just wanted my mother, but it was the middle of the night. In his codine induced sleep, Jake didn't hear me until I started to whimper to him to please get me some paper towels to clean the bathroom and a washcloth for my face. He brought me a kitchen rag, and then rinsed it in cold water...he was barely awake, and I didn't have the strength to demand a nicer rag to wipe off my face. I realized again, that no one takes care of the mom like she takes care of everyone else. I guess no one would know the difference between a kitchen rag or a plush bathroom rag if I only washed them with kitchen rags. It is because I notice the difference and make the effort with my offspring and my husband that I would just hope that they could see in the linen closet, there is a difference. They are even on a different shelf! This is the same reason why I feel my babies should have a matress pad between their matress and the sheet, and that a bed should have sheets in order to be slept upon. Jake does not share this same attention to details...sometimes he does, and I am searching for an example. I will restate, in the department of linens, Jake does not see the importance of a washcloth instead of a dishrag. It is all very vexing. But "...he loves me, and that makes him man enough for me!"
Friday, November 7, 2008
Children's Music
My mom thinks it is funny that Iain and Fiona need to have music wherever they go. We are in Iowa City for a visit tonight and tomorrow, and the CD player in the guest room has given up the ghost and we are down to the radio. Fiona was very tired, but screaming her head off earlier in the afternoon, and I couldn't seem to find the classical radio station. I hit my favorite jazz station 88.3FM and within a minute, she was sucking her thumb and going to sleep. Grandma Griebahn said that they are very sensitive, but I just do what works.
On the wintery mix drive that we made today, I was really missing the Cadillac, but the CD player was very nice in the Honda. Iain is much more relaxed when we have some kiddie tunes playing, and he has become more vocal on the volume. If he can't hear it, he makes some moaning and groaning and hand flailing to let me know that it isn't loud enough, Mom! We were listening to Rocketship Run and it is by far his favorite CD right now. Some days in the morning, he wants to have his music turned on before he gets out of bed. He clutches the side of his crib so that I can barely reach him, and points to the CD player as his little command to me. Once the rocketship starts to take off "Five-four-three-two-one, BLAST OFF! Another rocket ship run..." he is bouncing and grooving to the music.
We also have our Bongo CD from Music Together class, but I have had to draw the line at the Elmo crap. I hate Elmo. He doesn't talk properly and it drives me nuts!! Why should we encourage baby talk to the babies?! When the babies talk in their little language it is very cute, but when a muppet does not use the correct syntax with his very annoying voice, and especially when I am trying to merge, I just really can't handle it. Thankfully, he hasn't missed the Elmo thing, because I refuse to play it enough for him to get attached.
After the Rocketship CD, they had both fallen asleep, and I was delighted to groove out to the Garden State Soundtrack which has some Coldplay, some Shins, some FrouFrou...I love it. Mom's music is good. There are certain things that you take for granted, but when little people rule your world it is OK to get excited about the simple things like:
On the wintery mix drive that we made today, I was really missing the Cadillac, but the CD player was very nice in the Honda. Iain is much more relaxed when we have some kiddie tunes playing, and he has become more vocal on the volume. If he can't hear it, he makes some moaning and groaning and hand flailing to let me know that it isn't loud enough, Mom! We were listening to Rocketship Run and it is by far his favorite CD right now. Some days in the morning, he wants to have his music turned on before he gets out of bed. He clutches the side of his crib so that I can barely reach him, and points to the CD player as his little command to me. Once the rocketship starts to take off "Five-four-three-two-one, BLAST OFF! Another rocket ship run..." he is bouncing and grooving to the music.
We also have our Bongo CD from Music Together class, but I have had to draw the line at the Elmo crap. I hate Elmo. He doesn't talk properly and it drives me nuts!! Why should we encourage baby talk to the babies?! When the babies talk in their little language it is very cute, but when a muppet does not use the correct syntax with his very annoying voice, and especially when I am trying to merge, I just really can't handle it. Thankfully, he hasn't missed the Elmo thing, because I refuse to play it enough for him to get attached.
After the Rocketship CD, they had both fallen asleep, and I was delighted to groove out to the Garden State Soundtrack which has some Coldplay, some Shins, some FrouFrou...I love it. Mom's music is good. There are certain things that you take for granted, but when little people rule your world it is OK to get excited about the simple things like:
- Your own music
- A small, fun handbag
- A fresh shirt that has not been puked upon also a non-nursing shirt
- Eating food at the temperature it was meant to be served at: Hot food is hot and cold food is still cold, not melted
- You have time to straighten your hair, if you fancy that look for the day
- A necklace can be worn without someone putting it in their mouth to be covered in saliva or baby barf
- Holding hands with your husband, and your other hand just free as a bird
- Watching a movie that has a sex scene or bad word, because it is a good story
- Going to the bathroom in private, where no one barges in to see what Mom is doing
- Going to the grocery store without the babies dangling from the cart.
Skip This One
If you are sick and tired of my political dribble, skip this one.
Last night the babies and I went to visit a good friend from college, Colleen, and her little darlin', Bridget. Colleen and I met on my London study abroad trip and became fast friends. If we could have looked into a set of binoculars to see what we are like today, I think we would have died laughing! We lost touch after college, but a mutual friend brought us together when we were both pregnant with our first babies and living in Des Moines. Bridget was born 3 weeks after Iain, so we were neck and neck, or belly and belly through our pregnancies. So we had a great night hanging out with the kids and Bridget and Iain are old enough to play nice with each other. Bridget was a trooper, since the Joseph kids invaded her quiet reverie of home life as an only child. She was excited to see Fiona, "Baby! Baby!" but quite puzzled when Fiona hit one of her full blown shrieking moments. Iain was a fun diversion but being the 100% boy that he is, was not civilized enough to sit still at the dinner table with us, and spent most of the night screaming like a wild Ubangi.
Colleen and I licked our wounds from the election and we mostly sat around shaking our heads. She outed me in college to some of our class friends and colleagues that "Erin is a Republican too!" The classmate we were talking to was shocked to disbelief, and literally walked away from us saying, "I don't know if I can handle this, I am so upset that you are a Republican!! I never would have thought that!" (It was so confusing to her because we always agreed with each others viewpoints...well actually, she always agreed with mine and the "way I put things" during discussions. Well, DUH! That's because they were normal assessments of life, and not the totally liberal way that "everyone is dealt a bad hand" so the rest of us are required to feel sorry for them.) It felt very comforting to be sitting with a friend and fellow mother and to be able to say what we wanted without having judgement passed on us because we voted for the unpopular guy.
So my brain started cooking last night, and throughout the election there were many things that bothered me but something that I haven't shared on my blog is lodged in my brain today. What is with the Obama propaganda signs? You know those signs that were around town, in some people's yards, and mostly on the Internet. Not the typical yard sign that has just OBAMA on across it or HOPE. I am talking about the propaganda style portrait that is reminiscent of a Mao Zedong or Stalin. It bothers me! It bothers me so much, I have been trying to do some quick research on this this morning, amidst feeding my babies and getting ready for my trip to the East this morning. I found this blog and since I can't say it better than Peggy Shapiro did back in April of this year, you can see all of the technical stuff there that I am trying to get across. I especially agree with her statement in regard to the artist who designed the Obama campaign signs: "Fairy's art also reflects a common theme of the Obama campaign: America is a nation that oppresses. It is the America in which Obama's wife Michelle can take no pride and that Obama's spiritual advisor damns. It is the vision of America and its place in the world by one who is unfamiliar with history and who has the luxury of American freedom to express his disdain for the country."
I have confessed to some that I do watch the Oprah show on occasion. I do not like her, but I do like to see the people and pieces that she presents, because I feel like I can stay up to date on my pop culture as well as health and sex advice. I was completely disgusted by her post election show, because she made this election marathon about race. She was crying and ecstatic because a black man had become President of the United States. Why are minorities the only ones that can be celebratory when someone that they like get something, and I have to feel guilty if anyone white does anything good? I have a kalidescope of heritage, but just because my skin is white and my eyes are blue somehow I am lumped in the same category as the slave owners. I don't get it! There are other parts of the world where white Christians are killed and persecuted, but God has not chosen that I live there. Colleen gave me a quote from Mancow in the morning the day after the election, and it was something about November 5th as hopefully the last day for affirmative action. There shouldn't be anymore complaining about how oppressed the black man and minorities have been, because if a black guy can become president hopefully he has give his "HOPE" to the deadbeat father's that sit around and don't take responsibility for their lives and instead pump drugs through their veins. Interestingly enough Obama was raised by his white grandparents...hmmm. Let's hope that it isn't a requirement for the success of the black community to have any type of white influence so that they can all own their blackness.
My lesson from Veggie Tales is that I am living in a wave of Jonah emotion. I shouldn't be poised waiting for God's judgment on the Obama lovers and Democrats, but I am really having a battle right now. The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything teach my little man (and myself) that Jonah's story is about mercy and compassion. These little cartoons have really challenged me to get into the Word because sometimes I think, That is a stretch from the Scripture, but they have done everything so perfectly! So the sour grape pirate with his very thick Long Island or New Yorker accent says that we have to have compassion and then mercy. You can't have mercy without compassion. I can sit around and talk about how awful things have been and how bad they could get, but God could very well surprise all of us and not have any kind of retribution. HE IS IN CONTROL! Through all of my spewing I know that He is in control, He is driving the boat, but just like a Father he sometimes steers the boat a little close to the rocks and instead of laughing at the rocks, I am a little scared and saying "Uh, do you see those ROCKS OVER THERE? Can we move back into some deeper water?"
The Ninevites repented, that is why God spared them. They stopped their fish slapping, and God gave them a second chance. The gospel song with all of the "black" asparagus angels that witness to Jonah sing this great song and the chorus is "Our God is a God of second chances." Jonah wanted God to wipe them off of the planet and really punish them, and I really have to stop wanting everyone to "get theirs." I am also partial to the Newsboys song "Jonah." So even though my blogs start out as doom and gloom and negative, I think I might be an eternal optimist at heart?
Last night the babies and I went to visit a good friend from college, Colleen, and her little darlin', Bridget. Colleen and I met on my London study abroad trip and became fast friends. If we could have looked into a set of binoculars to see what we are like today, I think we would have died laughing! We lost touch after college, but a mutual friend brought us together when we were both pregnant with our first babies and living in Des Moines. Bridget was born 3 weeks after Iain, so we were neck and neck, or belly and belly through our pregnancies. So we had a great night hanging out with the kids and Bridget and Iain are old enough to play nice with each other. Bridget was a trooper, since the Joseph kids invaded her quiet reverie of home life as an only child. She was excited to see Fiona, "Baby! Baby!" but quite puzzled when Fiona hit one of her full blown shrieking moments. Iain was a fun diversion but being the 100% boy that he is, was not civilized enough to sit still at the dinner table with us, and spent most of the night screaming like a wild Ubangi.
Colleen and I licked our wounds from the election and we mostly sat around shaking our heads. She outed me in college to some of our class friends and colleagues that "Erin is a Republican too!" The classmate we were talking to was shocked to disbelief, and literally walked away from us saying, "I don't know if I can handle this, I am so upset that you are a Republican!! I never would have thought that!" (It was so confusing to her because we always agreed with each others viewpoints...well actually, she always agreed with mine and the "way I put things" during discussions. Well, DUH! That's because they were normal assessments of life, and not the totally liberal way that "everyone is dealt a bad hand" so the rest of us are required to feel sorry for them.) It felt very comforting to be sitting with a friend and fellow mother and to be able to say what we wanted without having judgement passed on us because we voted for the unpopular guy.
So my brain started cooking last night, and throughout the election there were many things that bothered me but something that I haven't shared on my blog is lodged in my brain today. What is with the Obama propaganda signs? You know those signs that were around town, in some people's yards, and mostly on the Internet. Not the typical yard sign that has just OBAMA on across it or HOPE. I am talking about the propaganda style portrait that is reminiscent of a Mao Zedong or Stalin. It bothers me! It bothers me so much, I have been trying to do some quick research on this this morning, amidst feeding my babies and getting ready for my trip to the East this morning. I found this blog and since I can't say it better than Peggy Shapiro did back in April of this year, you can see all of the technical stuff there that I am trying to get across. I especially agree with her statement in regard to the artist who designed the Obama campaign signs: "Fairy's art also reflects a common theme of the Obama campaign: America is a nation that oppresses. It is the America in which Obama's wife Michelle can take no pride and that Obama's spiritual advisor damns. It is the vision of America and its place in the world by one who is unfamiliar with history and who has the luxury of American freedom to express his disdain for the country."
I have confessed to some that I do watch the Oprah show on occasion. I do not like her, but I do like to see the people and pieces that she presents, because I feel like I can stay up to date on my pop culture as well as health and sex advice. I was completely disgusted by her post election show, because she made this election marathon about race. She was crying and ecstatic because a black man had become President of the United States. Why are minorities the only ones that can be celebratory when someone that they like get something, and I have to feel guilty if anyone white does anything good? I have a kalidescope of heritage, but just because my skin is white and my eyes are blue somehow I am lumped in the same category as the slave owners. I don't get it! There are other parts of the world where white Christians are killed and persecuted, but God has not chosen that I live there. Colleen gave me a quote from Mancow in the morning the day after the election, and it was something about November 5th as hopefully the last day for affirmative action. There shouldn't be anymore complaining about how oppressed the black man and minorities have been, because if a black guy can become president hopefully he has give his "HOPE" to the deadbeat father's that sit around and don't take responsibility for their lives and instead pump drugs through their veins. Interestingly enough Obama was raised by his white grandparents...hmmm. Let's hope that it isn't a requirement for the success of the black community to have any type of white influence so that they can all own their blackness.My lesson from Veggie Tales is that I am living in a wave of Jonah emotion. I shouldn't be poised waiting for God's judgment on the Obama lovers and Democrats, but I am really having a battle right now. The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything teach my little man (and myself) that Jonah's story is about mercy and compassion. These little cartoons have really challenged me to get into the Word because sometimes I think, That is a stretch from the Scripture, but they have done everything so perfectly! So the sour grape pirate with his very thick Long Island or New Yorker accent says that we have to have compassion and then mercy. You can't have mercy without compassion. I can sit around and talk about how awful things have been and how bad they could get, but God could very well surprise all of us and not have any kind of retribution. HE IS IN CONTROL! Through all of my spewing I know that He is in control, He is driving the boat, but just like a Father he sometimes steers the boat a little close to the rocks and instead of laughing at the rocks, I am a little scared and saying "Uh, do you see those ROCKS OVER THERE? Can we move back into some deeper water?"
The Ninevites repented, that is why God spared them. They stopped their fish slapping, and God gave them a second chance. The gospel song with all of the "black" asparagus angels that witness to Jonah sing this great song and the chorus is "Our God is a God of second chances." Jonah wanted God to wipe them off of the planet and really punish them, and I really have to stop wanting everyone to "get theirs." I am also partial to the Newsboys song "Jonah." So even though my blogs start out as doom and gloom and negative, I think I might be an eternal optimist at heart?
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Happy Girl
Fiona has had such a surge on her happiness meter and we contribute that to some solid foods that we were able to sneak some Baby-dophilus into. *Stir stir...she won't even notice!* She didn't notice except to be happy for maybe the first time in her life! Jake and I couldn't be more pleased! We have laughing, giggling, happy shrieks, and those adorable little baby kicks that are so exciting and show baby's delight in the world around her.
I had to decide to not beat my head against the "You must breastfeed your baby exclusively for the first year of their life" mantra that I was getting from some sources. Although I know that this is the best thing for the baby, I don't know that a mother and father who are exhausted because the screaming baby keeps them up at night is a good alternative. I have been eating disgusting fermented foods, taking stinky Chinese herbs and even stinkier tea, drinking more water, eating more calories, nursing more frequently...all to try and help Fiona in her quest for nutrition and I was unsuccessful. At her 6 month check up when we found out that she had dipped in her growth chart, Jake became concerned and started shoving food down her throat even though I insisted on only breastfeeding, "It is better for her!" He encouraged her to eat the gruel we made for her and said "You will feel better if you can get some sleep." Husband was very right, and he did order the bacteria for her as well. Dad's know what is best for their Mamas and their babies too, and I am glad that we have come to a compromise for our family. We are still opposed to baby food for our family, but we feed the baby what we are eating along with some tasty goat milk contributed by Grandma Griebahn.
She is officially at the seven month mark, and not only sitting up like a champ, we saw some crawling action last night as well. As long as Iain is occupied in another arena and not trying to flop on her little squirming body, she is moving across the room to get toys that she wants. We are calling this the G.I. Joe crawling because it really is just that, a little army crawl and not the movement on hands and knees. Christmas could be dangerous!
Election Depression
My day started out on the right foot yesterday (no pun intended) and Jake and I were excited to spend the day running errands and spending time with each other. One of our errands was hitting up our polling place which is less than a block away from us. We had music class and library books to return and of course the essential napping "schedule" that the children impose on us whether we like it or not. As I was fixing our egg breakfast, Jake came out all dressed in his black "Drill Alaska" Tshirt and handed me my matching shirt. Becky gave us these shirts to wear to the poles. It is always fun to have matching shirts...it really throws people off.
So we went to music class and had some comments on our shirts, and even though it was getting close to those naps and lunch, we drove back to the church to vote. Jake went in first while Iain played on the playground and Fiona enjoyed the brisk, warm breeze in her very fine hair. Jake came out triumphant that the line was not long and it was my turn. I grabbed my bag in case I should need my ID and headed inside.
I must interject my annoyance with the old broads that run this polling place. They are stupid! I understand that they see hundreds of people on election day, and they could be in "the zone" and make some mistakes. However, the last two times I have voted in Des Moines with my new last name as a first name, the lady running the A-K book seems to be very confused by my last name and does not trust my driver's license that I would be a female with the first name of Erin and my last name of Joseph is a male's first name. So she always starts to look under the E's instead of the J's. The first time, I was slightly embarrassed for her, and the following year for the primary elections, I just helped her out as soon as she started to look under E and told her my last name started with a J. She looked at me very puzzled, and I pointed out to her that my last name is Joseph, "If I am not there, then we will figure something out, OK?" So she flips to the Jo... and in disbelief finds my name there and my matching address.
Yesterday, the looney lady who usually runs the book has been moved to give instructions on how to fill out the little paper that has our name and address and then our signature. I walked in behind two curly haired boys, who were in soccer shorts and flip flops and carrying a backpack full of their lives. The soccer boy turned around to quickly stare at me and give my shirt a good look. There was some hubbub between the polling broads about clothing that would be considered advertising for a candidate, and I started to get a wave of nervousness. I was prepared to stand my ground! The soccer nerd's counterpart turned around to stare at me and then I saw his Obama shirt. I was sure that they had to be talking about him, and not me. So the ditzy old lady has given the instruction to these boys, and starts to push a slip towards me, and then pulls it back quickly...she let out a little gasp and then a giggle. "You can't vote."
I looked at her and said, "Why not?" She says, "Well you just voted! You can't vote twice!" I scowled at her, "What do you mean I already voted?" She tried to get a little cocky with me but stuck in her grandma body, she giggled again, "You were just in here, I remember your Tshirt." I said, "No I wasn't just in here, but my husband was, and we have on the same shirt, is that a problem?" She looked at me very confused. "I haven't voted yet, but I would like to now." She slid the paper towards me, "Well are you from Alaska?" I blipped "Nope." What a busy body! Wouldn't the book checker realize that I had already voted, if my name had already been crossed off of the list? I know this woman is a Democrat.
I made my way down to the two men taking the registration slips and handing out ballots. "I like your shirt" said that slip guy. "Thanks!" I swung around and flashed my back to him, "It's bigger on the back!" He exclaimed, "Yes it is! I think we should have drilled up there a long time ago! It's time to drill there now." I walked over to a little voting booth and filled in my bubbles. It was nerve wracking to me. I knew in my heart that Obama was going to win, but I needed to put my tally mark on the McCain side and hope that the other Republicans would win their seats. The Obama boys scowled as they drove past me loading my precious babies in getting into my car with my McCain bumper sticker, and I had to stare back at them.
When the votes were coming in last night, I knew what was going to happen and I just couldn't watch. We put in Rack, Shack and Benny the latest VeggieTale that I checked out at the library. Since I am close to deciding that everything in life can be learned from VeggieTales, I was inspired to stand firm in my beliefs and not go with this monster Obama popularity machine. Hopefully my children will not realize that I am physically ill over the outcome of the election and hold it against me later in their lives.
This country wants a king, and they have "elected" him. For the masses to rule, or be told that they actually have chosen this president makes them all feel good. The masses want the Obama rule in their lives and what they all need is a Lord and Savior to rule in their hearts. When I think about it, I can't be sad about this for a moment! However, many people in this country felt that we were living under the Bush regime. How dare they think that 1) we are living under a regime at all and 2) that our government allows one man to rule! Since they are confused about the fact that there are over 500 people making laws, passing laws and over 500 people spending our money and voting on if they need to ask for more money they continute to get their jollys up about this one person who has tangoed into their ears the "change" that he intends to implement on the American people.
Many people liked George W. Bush during his first four years of office. He spoke with passion after the attacks of 9-11-01 and the country rallied behind a leader who was offering protection the best way he knew how and was advised. Not only did we elect him President, we elected Congressman to pass bills and keep him in line. The demise of the economy can not be blamed on one person. Our government is not set up that way. This is a team effort. So if the crowd hates the quarterback, they are going to let him know and he is going to continue to screw up every time he is on the field. So we have a new QB and no one knows if he will do better than the last guy, but he sure has a lot of hype for someone who has never played before.
Iain is sad that it is raining today, but grouchy because he didn't sleep well last night during the mild lightening and thunder we had. Jake raked up every leaf pile that I had made, so no more leaf jumping and playing. I put on some shoes and sent him out in his pajamas so that he would get an already slightly dirty outfit dirty in mud, but he just wanted to push his lawnmower on the block of cement in the back. He has not ventured out too far, especially since the dog poop incident (he stepped in dog poop barefoot and was freaking out as the poop was squished between his toes...this is the life of a little boy, right?)
Since my blogging is somewhat cathartic (when I do write) I am having a peace about the situation. I would say that I now have election annoyance instead of depression. "Tomorrow is fresh with no mistakes in it."
So we went to music class and had some comments on our shirts, and even though it was getting close to those naps and lunch, we drove back to the church to vote. Jake went in first while Iain played on the playground and Fiona enjoyed the brisk, warm breeze in her very fine hair. Jake came out triumphant that the line was not long and it was my turn. I grabbed my bag in case I should need my ID and headed inside.
I must interject my annoyance with the old broads that run this polling place. They are stupid! I understand that they see hundreds of people on election day, and they could be in "the zone" and make some mistakes. However, the last two times I have voted in Des Moines with my new last name as a first name, the lady running the A-K book seems to be very confused by my last name and does not trust my driver's license that I would be a female with the first name of Erin and my last name of Joseph is a male's first name. So she always starts to look under the E's instead of the J's. The first time, I was slightly embarrassed for her, and the following year for the primary elections, I just helped her out as soon as she started to look under E and told her my last name started with a J. She looked at me very puzzled, and I pointed out to her that my last name is Joseph, "If I am not there, then we will figure something out, OK?" So she flips to the Jo... and in disbelief finds my name there and my matching address.
Yesterday, the looney lady who usually runs the book has been moved to give instructions on how to fill out the little paper that has our name and address and then our signature. I walked in behind two curly haired boys, who were in soccer shorts and flip flops and carrying a backpack full of their lives. The soccer boy turned around to quickly stare at me and give my shirt a good look. There was some hubbub between the polling broads about clothing that would be considered advertising for a candidate, and I started to get a wave of nervousness. I was prepared to stand my ground! The soccer nerd's counterpart turned around to stare at me and then I saw his Obama shirt. I was sure that they had to be talking about him, and not me. So the ditzy old lady has given the instruction to these boys, and starts to push a slip towards me, and then pulls it back quickly...she let out a little gasp and then a giggle. "You can't vote."
I looked at her and said, "Why not?" She says, "Well you just voted! You can't vote twice!" I scowled at her, "What do you mean I already voted?" She tried to get a little cocky with me but stuck in her grandma body, she giggled again, "You were just in here, I remember your Tshirt." I said, "No I wasn't just in here, but my husband was, and we have on the same shirt, is that a problem?" She looked at me very confused. "I haven't voted yet, but I would like to now." She slid the paper towards me, "Well are you from Alaska?" I blipped "Nope." What a busy body! Wouldn't the book checker realize that I had already voted, if my name had already been crossed off of the list? I know this woman is a Democrat.
I made my way down to the two men taking the registration slips and handing out ballots. "I like your shirt" said that slip guy. "Thanks!" I swung around and flashed my back to him, "It's bigger on the back!" He exclaimed, "Yes it is! I think we should have drilled up there a long time ago! It's time to drill there now." I walked over to a little voting booth and filled in my bubbles. It was nerve wracking to me. I knew in my heart that Obama was going to win, but I needed to put my tally mark on the McCain side and hope that the other Republicans would win their seats. The Obama boys scowled as they drove past me loading my precious babies in getting into my car with my McCain bumper sticker, and I had to stare back at them.
When the votes were coming in last night, I knew what was going to happen and I just couldn't watch. We put in Rack, Shack and Benny the latest VeggieTale that I checked out at the library. Since I am close to deciding that everything in life can be learned from VeggieTales, I was inspired to stand firm in my beliefs and not go with this monster Obama popularity machine. Hopefully my children will not realize that I am physically ill over the outcome of the election and hold it against me later in their lives.This country wants a king, and they have "elected" him. For the masses to rule, or be told that they actually have chosen this president makes them all feel good. The masses want the Obama rule in their lives and what they all need is a Lord and Savior to rule in their hearts. When I think about it, I can't be sad about this for a moment! However, many people in this country felt that we were living under the Bush regime. How dare they think that 1) we are living under a regime at all and 2) that our government allows one man to rule! Since they are confused about the fact that there are over 500 people making laws, passing laws and over 500 people spending our money and voting on if they need to ask for more money they continute to get their jollys up about this one person who has tangoed into their ears the "change" that he intends to implement on the American people.
Many people liked George W. Bush during his first four years of office. He spoke with passion after the attacks of 9-11-01 and the country rallied behind a leader who was offering protection the best way he knew how and was advised. Not only did we elect him President, we elected Congressman to pass bills and keep him in line. The demise of the economy can not be blamed on one person. Our government is not set up that way. This is a team effort. So if the crowd hates the quarterback, they are going to let him know and he is going to continue to screw up every time he is on the field. So we have a new QB and no one knows if he will do better than the last guy, but he sure has a lot of hype for someone who has never played before.
Iain is sad that it is raining today, but grouchy because he didn't sleep well last night during the mild lightening and thunder we had. Jake raked up every leaf pile that I had made, so no more leaf jumping and playing. I put on some shoes and sent him out in his pajamas so that he would get an already slightly dirty outfit dirty in mud, but he just wanted to push his lawnmower on the block of cement in the back. He has not ventured out too far, especially since the dog poop incident (he stepped in dog poop barefoot and was freaking out as the poop was squished between his toes...this is the life of a little boy, right?)Since my blogging is somewhat cathartic (when I do write) I am having a peace about the situation. I would say that I now have election annoyance instead of depression. "Tomorrow is fresh with no mistakes in it."
Monday, November 3, 2008
578 other things to do
With my two busy little babies and my two little part time jobs, and a beautiful day to enjoy I chose to spend some time making (what I hope to be) a statement. Two nights ago some vandals swiped my yard sign out of my yard. Jake and I had a bet that they would get stolen either Thursday or Friday night since it was beggar's night and Halloween respectively. I asked Jake to bring in our $1 pumpkin and the yard signs that I so painstakingly acquired in support of our choice for presidential candidate. Since Jake is a gambling man, he felt the odds were in his favor if the signs got stolen, so he left them out.
Sunday morning they were swiped and we were both aggravated, to say the least. This is our yard, and our private property. We just notice and ignore the Obama yard signs, and are astonished and cheer at the McCain signs in our neighborhood. I have never had any intention of destroying anyone's signs, just like I don't decapitate reindeer at Christmas time. So I made my new sign, for just one more day of exposure, and I have noticed that people are slowing down on our usually busy street. I am hearing the cars slow down and realize that there are break lights so that they can read my sign that now sticks out like a sore thumb.
Yesterday in church, I was so thankful to hear the elder say, "If Barak Obama wins the election, our country will be fine. If John McCain wins the election, our country will be fine." He encouraged us to do our civic duty and vote, but "The king's heart is in the hand of the LORD, as the rivers of water: he turneth it whiterhsoever he will." Proverbs 21:1
Sunday morning they were swiped and we were both aggravated, to say the least. This is our yard, and our private property. We just notice and ignore the Obama yard signs, and are astonished and cheer at the McCain signs in our neighborhood. I have never had any intention of destroying anyone's signs, just like I don't decapitate reindeer at Christmas time. So I made my new sign, for just one more day of exposure, and I have noticed that people are slowing down on our usually busy street. I am hearing the cars slow down and realize that there are break lights so that they can read my sign that now sticks out like a sore thumb.
Yesterday in church, I was so thankful to hear the elder say, "If Barak Obama wins the election, our country will be fine. If John McCain wins the election, our country will be fine." He encouraged us to do our civic duty and vote, but "The king's heart is in the hand of the LORD, as the rivers of water: he turneth it whiterhsoever he will." Proverbs 21:1
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