Mommin' It Up!

August 4, 2008

Hey Mom! I was Saving that for Later!

Yesterday roundabout 8 a.m. when I changed my daughter’s overnight diaper, I got a little surprise, and it wasn’t of the poopy variety. She had been playing outside just before bed and was up late so I just put her to bed in what she had on, which was a one-piece romper thingie that snapped at the crotch. When I unfastened the snaps, out rolled a big ol’ ROCK! This rock, in fact:

It’s kind of hard to tell from the photo, but it’s about an inch long and maybe 1/2 an inch wide. And probably real comfortable to have up in your hoo-hah when you’re trying to sleep all night!

A few hours later, I laid her down to change her diaper after lunch and this time when I unfastened her snaps, six or seven CHEERIOS (which she had eaten for breakfast) fell out! Sheesh! Did I give birth to a human or a squirrel? Is it time to store up for winter, Soph? Are you worried I’m gonna stop feeding you? (Note: this is not likely since I’ve been breastfeeding you for TWENTY FREAKIN’ MONTHS!!)

Ah, my crazy daughter. She’s like Napoleon Dynamite puttin’ tater tots in his pants pocket. (Hey Sophie, give me your tots!) I guess ya never know when a Cheerios craving is going to hit! Better safe than sorry. That’s the Sophie way!

August 1, 2008

That? On my shirt? Oh, that’s water. Yeah. Water.

Tuesday morning I was invited to a meeting about a very exciting project we’ve got coming up at work. It was about an hour away from our office, but four of us, including two men who are my bosses, drove together, so it was a nice break from the routine (Jen, did you ever think you’d hear me say that going to a meeting in Cincinnati was a nice break? Yeah, me either. Time must be healing the wounds embedded in us by our former employer).

Anyway, it was a great meeting and everything, but it lasted a lot longer than I had expected. I had fed Sam at about 6:00 a.m. and by the time the meeting was adjourned, it was after noon.

Yeah, you know where I’m going with this, right?

Needless to say we were starving, so we stopped at Panera for lunch. As I stood in line, I happened to notice a feeling of dampness on my arm as it brushed my shirt. I glanced down at my lovely, very delicate white shirt, and discovered I was participating in my very own wet t-shirt contest.

Apparently it takes right at six hours and 15 minutes for milk to soak through nursing pads, a padded bra and a camisole.

With my purse strategically placed, I went to the restroom, but there was nothing that could be done for my shirt. I felt like a real winner as I stuck the toilet paper into my saturated bra.

I tried to make intelligent conversation and not look too crazy as I ate with one arm across my chest. I scrunched down, hoping the spot would be below the level of the table. I moved my plate to it covered the evidence. I did everything I could think of to hide the wet spot, but I was positive that my co-workers were just barely containing their laughter.

After an excruitating lunch and a very contorted ride back to the office, I was finally able to pump. By then it had been like eight hours since I had fed Sam. I think I might have set the world record on expressing milk, actually.

I spent the rest of the afternoon assuming that I was the laughingstock of the office and just didn’t know it yet. I eventually couldn’t take the suspense any more and finally asked one of the guys I was with if he had noticed anything “odd” about me at lunch. I figured that, as the father of five children, he should be pretty used to situations like that, but fortunately he told me he had only noticed that I didn’t eat my vegetables.

And that is what I choose to believe.

July 28, 2008July 28, 2008

A Belated Thanks to Mister Rogers

A few months ago I noticed that one of our PBS stations, the one we don’t watch as much, still airs Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. I had fond memories of the show so I set our TiVo to record it and introduced it to Joshua a few days later.

He loved it immediately. I mean he looooves it. He hearts Mister Rogers! And over the past few months, I’ve fallen in love with good ol’ Fred again myself! I love the way he talks to his “television neighbor” – in this case my son. He speaks so gently and earnestly to the children who watch the show. Joshua hangs on his every word. I love the way he talks to and asks questions of his guests on the show – he speaks as if he is a child, asking questions that may seem dumb and obvious to us Smarty McSmartypants adults, but are exactly what our kids want to know. Some of the guests crack me up, they just cannot get into the act. On one episode, when Mister Rogers was visiting a film-processing plant (which prompted Joshua to ask me where the film is in my digital camera! Ha! He’s getting a history lesson!), the plant manager looked at Mister R. like he was coo-coo when he motioned to the camera and said, “I’d like you to meet my television neighbor.” I don’t know if this guy was just shy, or didn’t have kids, or had never seen the show, but he was NOT playing along. I wanted to smack him!

A couple of weeks after Joshua really started to love the show (his favorite part is of course, the Neighborhood of Make-Believe segments), I started to do a little research on Fred McFeely Rogers. I knew he had passed away fairly recently but could not quite remember when. A quick Google search told me it was February 27, 2003.

Exactly one year to the day before Joshua was born.

I got a little misty. Ok, I cried. What are the odds?

So, Mister Rogers, I know you are up in Jesus’ neighborhood now, and it is more wonderful than anything you could have imagined in the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. But down here, there are those of us who are still very appreciative of you and all you did for children, and are still very privileged to be your Television Neighbor. Thank you, sir. Now please do me another solid and go take Trolley for a spin on the ol’ Streets of Gold for Joshua!