Dear Universe

Dear Autumn:

I love you dearly. You are my favorite, hands down. I love your fiery colors, your crisp mornings, your football games, and your back-to-school excitement. So why, dear seasonal friend, do you allow yourself to be pushed around by the bullies of summer and winter? Yesterday we were sweating bullets and wearing shorts and t-shirts in 90 degree weather. I couldn't sleep last night because it felt like a July night. Today, my kids broke out the big honkin' winter boots and danced around amidst huge snowflakes that were sticking to the grass. Tonight I'm wrapped up in my blanket with ice-cold toes, in denial that I need to go dig out my slippers. Stick up for yourself Autumn! We deserve crisp mornings and 70 degree days!


Dear Max:

I'll make a deal with you. If you promise not to bite me while nursing, I promise not to wean you. I appreciate that you're teething, but I would appreciate it even more if you didn't teeth on my nipple. I haven't had to use this much Lansinoh since you were a newborn. So next time you feel the need to chomp, please let me know so I can run far, far away.


Dear AFLAC-

Thank you so much for pulling your collective heads out and granting our appeal. It was definitely the most pleasant surprise I could have asked for today, and helped you avoid the lawsuit I've been threatening since you first denied our claim in May.


Dear Glee-

I am so glad you were on my TV tonight. I think I am officially addicted. Can you please be on TV on Monday night and Tuesday night too?


Dear Ice Cream and Hot Fudge Sauce:

Get in my belly. Enough said.

Your family might be a little computer addicted when...

Your daughters are playing on the computer downstairs and it needs to be restarted. So your husband goes to restart the computer and you hear your 7 year old start whining.

"But Dad, can we play on your laptop?"

"Nope, I'm using my computer."

"Well, can we play on Mom's laptop?"

"Mommy's using her laptop."

"But Dad, we need more computers in this house. We only have three!"


In our defense, the laptop belongs to my husband's work. And both my husband and I were doing legitimate work on our laptops. But still. I'm thinking three computers for four people should be enough.... I'm just sayin'!

Things you never thought you would say

"Please tell me you did not just eat cat vomit."

"The toilet is not your own personal swimming pool."

"Be soft with the dog's nose."


And that was all in the space of one hour this afternoon. Anyone else have some gems to share?

Matching

You mean you don't match your baby with your bedding? Sad!

Jealous

Sometimes, I think the moms should be the one to take the business trips.

No really, hear me out.

We'd come home and announce that we were leaving in two days. We'd take the nice company-owned truck and drive for five peaceful hours. We would listen to the satellite radio, catch up with family and friends, and not once would we have to pull over because of out of control screaming, an emergency potty break, or to rescue a thrown sippy cup.

We'd stop for a leisurely lunch, then arrive at our nice hotel rested and refreshed. We'd call home and let our husbands know that we'd arrived safely, and secretly gloat when we talked with our flustered husbands while the kids hollered in the background.

Then, we'd kick back on the king-sized bed, and order room service while flipping through cable channels. After watching a movie completely uninterrupted, we'd fall asleep and sleep all night. No one would wake us up by climbing on us, kicking us in the ribs, nursing all night long, puking, pooping, or drooling on us.

When we woke up the next morning, we'd have all the time in the world to get ready. We wouldn't have to pack lunches, change the epic poop explosion, help the seven year old practice the violin, veto non-matching/inappropriate/immodest outfits, or find four missing shoes. Instead, we'd enjoy a hot breakfast made by someone else, and read the current day's paper cover to cover.

On this fantasy business trip, we'd then spend a whole day cavorting with other moms. We would enjoy seminars entitled "How to look like you just stepped out of a fashion magazine with just the clothes in your closet," and "How to lose weight on a diet of Diet Coke with Lime and chocolate chips," and "Hiring the perfect housecleaner/chauffeur/personal chef." Gossiping over the catered lunch would be considered networking, and the fun would continue over dinner at a fancy restaurant that our family budget could never afford.

I might be just a little jealous.

I wanna be a domestic Goddess

I grew up with a mom who was a domestic goddess. She could sew anything, including most of the things we wore. We rarely (rarely!) went out to eat- there was always a home-cooked meal on the table. And we had a huge garden- half the size of our back yard. There were six of us, and we joked frequently about being slave labor when we were sent out to pick the peas, beans, tomatoes, (just for the record, you get in really big trouble when you get in a tomato fight with your siblings when you're supposed to be picking them!) and whatever else was ripe at the time. We had cherry pitting parties, movie nights shelling endless bags of peas, and nights on the deck covered in splatters of tomatoes as we ground them for spaghetti sauce.


Now that I'm a mom and trying to live more frugally and eat more healthy, I'm really wishing I would have paid more attention to the massive amounts of canning that my mom did every summer. In a fit of domesticity, I decided that all the apples we picked last week needed to be turned into apple butter. After a few calls to my friend Jules who gave me the recipe, and to my mom the canning guru, and 24 hours with the apples in the crockpot, I ended up with this:




7 very pretty, very yummy jars of apple butter. It tastes like apple pie on toast. And they all sealed! Its not much, but combined with the 24 jars of freezer jam we did a few weeks ago, and we're going to have lots of yummy toast this year, if nothing else!

Baby Steps

I knew it was going to happen eventually. I was washing off counters in the kitchen after lunch while Max was repeatedly testing the childproof latches on the cabinets. (Bless the soul that invented those and the previous owners of this house that installed them on every cabinet in the kitchen!) I glanced over to see that he was standing there not holding onto anything. Then with a great big grin, he took a step. His eyes widened, surprised at what he just did, before he fell onto his diaper-covered bum.

I scooped him up, gave him a big hug, then stood him up again. He giggled, then took two more steps into my arms.

He is ten months and two days old.

In other news today, he also learned how to open my laptop. So since I'm pretty sure I just gave birth to him yesterday, I'm fully expecting that tomorrow I'll find him toddling over to my laptop, opening it up, and updating my facebook status.