Phrases my husband never thought he'd say (during a day at home with Ben while he closes out his battle with a double ear-infection. ANOTHER ONE...):
"Don't lick the fucking fridge" (to which I said, "E - why did you curse at the baby?!" lol)
"Who's piss is this?" (directed at, I assume, the baby and two dogs)
"Get your fingers out of his eyeballs!" (poooor doggies... lol)
Next up, after our son arrived in July 2013, were the items to cross off while baby was, well - a baby!
After a brief foray back on the TTCAL-train, we welcomed our daughter December 2015!
This is our BUGGY List story!
Monday, September 15, 2014
A Request...
Hey ladies (and any gents!) - I'm coming to you guys with a request...
and I'm going all in because the pages and profiles we've got going have mine and my husband's full name...
So - Here goes:
and I'm going all in because the pages and profiles we've got going have mine and my husband's full name...
So - Here goes:
Eric
and I have recently begun a venture that is close to the heart for us,
especially with one of us driving Ben to daycare every day, and we’re
looking for your help to get it off the ground...
I
receive a Parenting magazine monthly, and a recent article told of
three different sets of parents who suffered a terrible tragedy: they
all had a child die from heatstroke after unintentionally being left in a
vehicle.
We did more research, and couldn’t believe the numbers - there had been a total of 21 hot-car deaths so far this year and 38 per year on average. Looking into the statistics, I recently came across a story that gives me chills:
7
years ago, Lyn Balfour forgot her 9-month-old Bryce in her backseat
while she spent hours at work. That morning she was rushing to deal with
an emergency at her Charlottesville, Virginia, job. When her
babysitter called that afternoon to check on the baby, Balfour paused
her day in confusion.
“Stunned, realizing what she'd done, Balfour ran to her car. She started CPR on Bryce.
The mother's cries for help would be heard on a 911 call later played in court, but it was too late.
Overheated, Bryce died.”
With a total of 21 deaths so far this year, a hot-car death is occurring every 12 days.
Why are we reaching out to you?
We’ve
created a product that we think will save lives - an easy-to-use tag
that hangs on your rearview mirror during car rides to help remind the
driver, as well as alert the public, that there is a child in the
backseat of the vehicle.
We’re now on Kickstarter to begin fundraising, and we’re asking for your help in getting this off the ground.
You can help in 2 ways:
- Make a pledge to our Kickstarter (and get cool stuff from SafetyBIB!)
- Share our Kickstarter page, share (and like!) our Facebook page, and share our website with your friends and family
Eric and I sincerely appreciate any efforts on your part to help us get this product off the ground… THANK YOU!
****Here's the thing blog-readers: The above is our format email we blasted out... and I won't say we don't need your help fundraising, but I'm mostly asking you to just share the information:
Share our facebook page...
Share our kickstarter page...
Share our website... (my awesome husband made it all!)
Tweet about us... (@safetybib)
Just share the word!
A million thank yous in advance for helping us out!!
Friday, September 12, 2014
Foodie Friday: Bruschetta Chicken
Yea, I know - ME cooking?!
But I've recently found some deep domestic gene that has been hiding the past 28 ok ok 29 years!
Of course, these little seasoning packets make it pretty easy to throw together a phenomenal dinner, aka:
Sweet Basil & Oregano Bruschetta Chicken
I even got out my rarely-used large pasta bowl:
Of course, these little seasoning packets make it pretty easy to throw together a phenomenal dinner, aka:
Sweet Basil & Oregano Bruschetta Chicken
Last Friday night found me quartering plum tomatoes
(and ok, I cheated a little bit using canned...)
I drained the tomatoes first - and waste not want not:
I saved the juice in the red tupperware cup for some yummy bloody marys!
Then it was easy as 1-2-3.
I mixed the seasoning pouch with olive oil and brushed it over tomatoes on one side of the pan
and chicken breasts on the other, and intothe oven it went for about 20 minutes:
While the chicken and tomatoes were in the oven, I threw on a pot of water and cooked up some linguine (or vermicelli, or some other thin noodle, can't exactly remember - damn good Bloody Marys!)
I cut up the chicken into smaller pieces, and then mixed both the chicken and tomatoes (and all the yummy juices that had collected in the foil - important part!) in with the pasta.
And then it was Buon Appetito!
And then it was Buon Appetito!
(The only shot I got of the finished product...)
Ben, E and I all dug in with gusto!
Stay tuned next week for Butternut Squash Soup!
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
CarRide Conundrum
On the latest carride into work, I was debating whether to fax my resume to MIL's place of work, who is hiring for what I do.
They're hiring for both part-time & full-time positions, but more importantly - for a position that is not responsible for things like receptionist call-outs (just one teeny aspect of what I do...) I manage an office, so if staff call out, technically my assistant is responsible for covering.
She likes to pretend to not have her phone on her during the weekends, and likes to play hot-potato: "It's [figuratively] out of my hands - SOMEONE ELSE'S RESPONSIBILITY!"
So I've been debating a lot lately whether to start looking around job-wise. (there's a million other things, aside from just call-outs that are causing me to want to leave...)
But each time I really begin the process, checking Monster and Craigslist, I begin to feel guilty. I get the feeling that I'm cheating on my current employer... HUSSY!
See, he's been very good to me (and family) - you remember that bonus I got during the crazy discovery phase of the lawsuit (which is still going on BTDubs...)?
We also received a very nice monetary wedding gift, another nice monetary "Housewarming gift" when we bought our first house, as well as another verrrrry nice gift when Ben was born. (and another small one at his first birthday.)
So yea, he's been very good. And if I were to never voluntarily leave, I have a feeling I'd have a position for life here.
But - speaking of having to handle call-outs - the assistant is also CONSTANTLY on her cell phone. Like, she came back after 2 weeks vacation (during which I probably only had a total extra of 2-3 hours' work directly due to her absence - what does she DO all day?!) and the first thing I see when I walk into our office is her on the cell phone.
Talking about her son's first day of school. "And is this boy in his class? What shoes did he wear?"
SERIOUSLY?!
I wanted to do the Passive Approach - kind of like the summer job I had after high school at a plastic surgeon's office: The Dr made a comment about midriffs, or something-or-other about the fashion of them. Another office girl leaned over to me and whispered, "That's her way of saying your shirt is too short!"
My idea was to be all, "Asst, there must be some big emergency this morning... some big emergency that require you be CONSTANTLY texting and carrying your cellphone on you throughout the building..."
Overall, I've already taken back a few of what should be her responsibilities - because she made too many errors (not a ton, but enough that by the time I had fixed the screw ups, I might as well have just done the tasks myself to begin with.)
So, after feeling guilty for awhile, I flip-flop back to the "I have it sweet here! Why would I leave? I'll make HER leave!"
And then just thirty minutes into work day I'm thinking, I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!!
*runs off to fax resume*
They're hiring for both part-time & full-time positions, but more importantly - for a position that is not responsible for things like receptionist call-outs (just one teeny aspect of what I do...) I manage an office, so if staff call out, technically my assistant is responsible for covering.
She likes to pretend to not have her phone on her during the weekends, and likes to play hot-potato: "It's [figuratively] out of my hands - SOMEONE ELSE'S RESPONSIBILITY!"
So I've been debating a lot lately whether to start looking around job-wise. (there's a million other things, aside from just call-outs that are causing me to want to leave...)
But each time I really begin the process, checking Monster and Craigslist, I begin to feel guilty. I get the feeling that I'm cheating on my current employer... HUSSY!
See, he's been very good to me (and family) - you remember that bonus I got during the crazy discovery phase of the lawsuit (which is still going on BTDubs...)?
We also received a very nice monetary wedding gift, another nice monetary "Housewarming gift" when we bought our first house, as well as another verrrrry nice gift when Ben was born. (and another small one at his first birthday.)
So yea, he's been very good. And if I were to never voluntarily leave, I have a feeling I'd have a position for life here.
But - speaking of having to handle call-outs - the assistant is also CONSTANTLY on her cell phone. Like, she came back after 2 weeks vacation (during which I probably only had a total extra of 2-3 hours' work directly due to her absence - what does she DO all day?!) and the first thing I see when I walk into our office is her on the cell phone.
Talking about her son's first day of school. "And is this boy in his class? What shoes did he wear?"
SERIOUSLY?!
I wanted to do the Passive Approach - kind of like the summer job I had after high school at a plastic surgeon's office: The Dr made a comment about midriffs, or something-or-other about the fashion of them. Another office girl leaned over to me and whispered, "That's her way of saying your shirt is too short!"
My idea was to be all, "Asst, there must be some big emergency this morning... some big emergency that require you be CONSTANTLY texting and carrying your cellphone on you throughout the building..."
Overall, I've already taken back a few of what should be her responsibilities - because she made too many errors (not a ton, but enough that by the time I had fixed the screw ups, I might as well have just done the tasks myself to begin with.)
So, after feeling guilty for awhile, I flip-flop back to the "I have it sweet here! Why would I leave? I'll make HER leave!"
And then just thirty minutes into work day I'm thinking, I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!!
*runs off to fax resume*
Monday, September 8, 2014
LDW
No, no - that's not an airport code...
it's for Labor Day Weekend! And what a great close to summer (even though the last official day isn't for a few weeks! We're still enjoying our evening walks with doggies and Ben!)
After a quick Dr. visit Friday (double ear infection is all gone!) and a stop by Mommy's work:
We spent the weekend at the Jersey shore.
And "we" is merely:
8 adults
2 teenage girls
FOUR dogs
and a baby...
In a three-bedroom, one-bath house.
Let's just say, chaos reigned SUPREME.
And after worrying for about .5 seconds about it, babies napped on sandy towels in beach tents:
And boy did he nap HARD after playing in the sun, sand and sea!
*Seagulling: a new term we made up for Ben when he's hovering around food, hoping for a handout. Like the seagulls at the beach, when someone's eating a bag of chips??
We spent nights at cute restaurants with "Crab" and "Crusty" in the name; and on the boardwalk, playing with uncles while they tried to win him crane toys:
*Uncle apparently got his QT in with Ben this weekend, as I'm now realizing how much he dominates the pictures! lol
(we also spent nights whisper-yelling at barking dogs: "Don't! Wake! the BABY!")
Silence was never sweeter than when SIL and I finally got to our sunrise beach yoga class on Sunday morning...
Later the same day, we went on the bay side of town and rented paddle boards! Which, by the end of the 30 minute rental, we decided had not been a very good idea. The combination of strong winds and currents made paddling back VERY difficult, that my arms' and obliques' soreness is just now fading, days later!
Overall, a great weekend - and we couldn't wait to get home Monday.
We never thought we'd call our house Peaceful & Quiet with two dogs, but after the chaos of the weekend, it was exactly that.
it's for Labor Day Weekend! And what a great close to summer (even though the last official day isn't for a few weeks! We're still enjoying our evening walks with doggies and Ben!)
After a quick Dr. visit Friday (double ear infection is all gone!) and a stop by Mommy's work:
We spent the weekend at the Jersey shore.
And "we" is merely:
8 adults
2 teenage girls
FOUR dogs
and a baby...
In a three-bedroom, one-bath house.
Let's just say, chaos reigned SUPREME.
We spent the days at the beach, sticky with sunblock.
(the bay side of town)
Ben spent afternoons seagulling* an uncle's ice pops:
*Seagulling: a new term we made up for Ben when he's hovering around food, hoping for a handout. Like the seagulls at the beach, when someone's eating a bag of chips??
We spent nights at cute restaurants with "Crab" and "Crusty" in the name; and on the boardwalk, playing with uncles while they tried to win him crane toys:
(we also spent nights whisper-yelling at barking dogs: "Don't! Wake! the BABY!")
Silence was never sweeter than when SIL and I finally got to our sunrise beach yoga class on Sunday morning...
Later the same day, we went on the bay side of town and rented paddle boards! Which, by the end of the 30 minute rental, we decided had not been a very good idea. The combination of strong winds and currents made paddling back VERY difficult, that my arms' and obliques' soreness is just now fading, days later!
Overall, a great weekend - and we couldn't wait to get home Monday.
We never thought we'd call our house Peaceful & Quiet with two dogs, but after the chaos of the weekend, it was exactly that.
(thanks SIL for the collage!)
**Dean Martin just sang to me, from Pandora, about firelight and mistletoe.
And like that *snap* - my heart started yearning for cable-knits and leather boots!
::hangs head in shame::
On the local "First Day back to school" - Enjoy the rest of your summer!!
***(obviously I wrote this post last week - so change that "First day back" to "second week back." =P)***
***(obviously I wrote this post last week - so change that "First day back" to "second week back." =P)***
Keeping count
I read somewhere recently that a secret to keeping peace uh a happy husband a healthy relationship with your child-rearing partner, is that you should stop keeping count.
Stop counting how many times this week you've gotten up to change morning diapers. (actually, maybe only 2-3. He's awesome in the morning, FOR THE MOST PART, so I can go get my shower on.)
Stop counting how many hours you were with the baby all by yourself in the last month of Saturdays. (Every Saturday. Because he gets to go play hockey. EVERY SATURDAY. just saying...)
Stop counting how many times he's emptied the dishwasher. (ZERO.)
Or cleaned up after you cooked dinner. (ZERO.)
Or kept stuffing dirty diapers into a nearly-overflowing garbage pail, only to ask you as he runs out to play hockey, "hey babe - the nursery garbage needs to be taken out!"
Sorry, I let that get away from me for a second...
Anyways - so, stop keeping count. Got it.
Except, then on Saturday the following happened:
I was finally cleaning out all the crap leftover Birthday stuff (anyone throwing a circus/carnival party?!) from the guest bedroom, and Ben found a new toy!
As you can see, Daddy was in charge as I was in and out of the room; until I heard a thud, following by banshee wailing - the kind where they just freeze, face all purply-red and Hulk-ragey? (And you're thinking, how has he not needed to take a breathe yet?!)
Daddy admitted he'd "dropped the ball, looked away for just a SPLIT SECOND!" and head-over-heels went Ben (who, after some ice pop, was fine...)
And all this happened just 7 days from the last incident - when we were down-the-shore for Labor Day Weekend (post to follow - because I started it, and then thought Let me wait until I get the GOOD pictures off my DSLR so I can use those instead of phone pictures! and there in "Drafts" the post has sat for days...)
We were in the shore house, and Daddy "dropped the ball, looked away for just a SPLIT SECOND!" and Ben had his first off-the-bed-bumped-his-head fall.
And on that note, the count is E=2, K=1.
(Because, there was that time MOOOOONTHS ago when I accidentally scratched his face while trying to catch him from falling.... in fact, because I was trying to PREVENT catastrophe, I think I only get 1/2 a point...)
Stop counting how many times this week you've gotten up to change morning diapers. (actually, maybe only 2-3. He's awesome in the morning, FOR THE MOST PART, so I can go get my shower on.)
Stop counting how many hours you were with the baby all by yourself in the last month of Saturdays. (Every Saturday. Because he gets to go play hockey. EVERY SATURDAY. just saying...)
Stop counting how many times he's emptied the dishwasher. (ZERO.)
Or cleaned up after you cooked dinner. (ZERO.)
Or kept stuffing dirty diapers into a nearly-overflowing garbage pail, only to ask you as he runs out to play hockey, "hey babe - the nursery garbage needs to be taken out!"
Sorry, I let that get away from me for a second...
Anyways - so, stop keeping count. Got it.
Except, then on Saturday the following happened:
As you can see, Daddy was in charge as I was in and out of the room; until I heard a thud, following by banshee wailing - the kind where they just freeze, face all purply-red and Hulk-ragey? (And you're thinking, how has he not needed to take a breathe yet?!)
Daddy admitted he'd "dropped the ball, looked away for just a SPLIT SECOND!" and head-over-heels went Ben (who, after some ice pop, was fine...)
And all this happened just 7 days from the last incident - when we were down-the-shore for Labor Day Weekend (post to follow - because I started it, and then thought Let me wait until I get the GOOD pictures off my DSLR so I can use those instead of phone pictures! and there in "Drafts" the post has sat for days...)
We were in the shore house, and Daddy "dropped the ball, looked away for just a SPLIT SECOND!" and Ben had his first off-the-bed-bumped-his-head fall.
And on that note, the count is E=2, K=1.
(Because, there was that time MOOOOONTHS ago when I accidentally scratched his face while trying to catch him from falling.... in fact, because I was trying to PREVENT catastrophe, I think I only get 1/2 a point...)
Friday, September 5, 2014
TGIF, GTFO, TFAS and AW
I don't think any explanation is needed for TGIF.
TEE.
GEE.
EYE.
EFF.
'nuff said.
and twin girls from Ben's class at daycare, I noticed this morning, were in the Toddler1 room. That happens at
18 months. That's US in just over 4 months.
GFTO.
And part CarRide Chronicles (since it was on the drive into work this morning that I was pondering this all - on CD2...)
the big one: TFAS
I kept feeling anxiety and a need to rush into TTC again this summer. I would look at E's cousin (whose son turned two in April and who I predict to be the next BFP announcement) and think, I definitely don't want my children that far apart! But did that mean I needed to get pregnant before her?
Or the fBFF who admitted a few months after her son (who will be two in December) was born that, if they could have afforded it, she'd have had her second (and third?) in very quick succession. But not because she wanted close age, no - because she theorized, "Why get my body back in shape PP only to ruin (her words!!) it again with the next one?"
Why did I feel the pressure to be pregnant with #2 before her? to show her that she could still have gotten back in shape PP after #1?
(ok, saying that part outloud - yea, I'd love to just show her that it's possible to keep a fit & healthy body, even with less than 24 months between pregnancies...)
but it was during my work commute this morning that I recalled being in the hospital hours after Ben was born, watching family file in and rush to stroke his soft cheeks, and marvel over his teeny little ears (still tucked nicely in!) and glance my way, giving me a figurative THUMBS UP MOM! You made a beautiful little boy!
THAT'S what I love.
And the comments from strangers during our Lake George vacation (at 27 weeks pregnant) of how cute I looked with my bumpin' bump.
I'm an Attention Whore.
I loved the attention I got in cute maternity dresses (ok and stilletos... I have good balance!).
I loved the attention I got in the hospital and in the following days.
I still love the attention I get when I take Ben out dressed like this:
(older picture - mustache recently fell off the pacific (RIP Stache!))
And all of that is a very selfish reason to jump into TTC & (hopefully) bump-dom again. So I remind myself, as I sip my chilled Clos du Bois Chardonnay, of the timeline E and I both settled on a few nights ago.
I have the rest of summer to enjoy cold Coronas.
I get all of Fall to wrap my fingers around mugs of spiked cider.
and I get all the way through New Years to clink flutes of bubbly!
CHEERS!
TEE.
GEE.
EYE.
EFF.
'nuff said.
and twin girls from Ben's class at daycare, I noticed this morning, were in the Toddler1 room. That happens at
18 months. That's US in just over 4 months.
GFTO.
And part CarRide Chronicles (since it was on the drive into work this morning that I was pondering this all - on CD2...)
the big one: TFAS
I kept feeling anxiety and a need to rush into TTC again this summer. I would look at E's cousin (whose son turned two in April and who I predict to be the next BFP announcement) and think, I definitely don't want my children that far apart! But did that mean I needed to get pregnant before her?
Or the fBFF who admitted a few months after her son (who will be two in December) was born that, if they could have afforded it, she'd have had her second (and third?) in very quick succession. But not because she wanted close age, no - because she theorized, "Why get my body back in shape PP only to ruin (her words!!) it again with the next one?"
Why did I feel the pressure to be pregnant with #2 before her? to show her that she could still have gotten back in shape PP after #1?
(ok, saying that part outloud - yea, I'd love to just show her that it's possible to keep a fit & healthy body, even with less than 24 months between pregnancies...)
but it was during my work commute this morning that I recalled being in the hospital hours after Ben was born, watching family file in and rush to stroke his soft cheeks, and marvel over his teeny little ears (still tucked nicely in!) and glance my way, giving me a figurative THUMBS UP MOM! You made a beautiful little boy!
THAT'S what I love.
And the comments from strangers during our Lake George vacation (at 27 weeks pregnant) of how cute I looked with my bumpin' bump.
I'm an Attention Whore.
I loved the attention I got in cute maternity dresses (ok and stilletos... I have good balance!).
I loved the attention I got in the hospital and in the following days.
I still love the attention I get when I take Ben out dressed like this:
And all of that is a very selfish reason to jump into TTC & (hopefully) bump-dom again. So I remind myself, as I sip my chilled Clos du Bois Chardonnay, of the timeline E and I both settled on a few nights ago.
I have the rest of summer to enjoy cold Coronas.
I get all of Fall to wrap my fingers around mugs of spiked cider.
and I get all the way through New Years to clink flutes of bubbly!
CHEERS!
Thursday, September 4, 2014
Ass vs Shoes
CarRide Chronicles:
Another difference between Men and Women:
E and I were traveling (pre-baby) and were seated at our gate in the airport. We were seated near the edge of the walk way, and watched a woman saunter by in like, leggings & stilettos. (while I was like, kudos to the comfy leggings, I was baffled as to why anyone would want to wear heels while traveling, as cute as hers were!)
And they were really cute, so I turned to E and said, "I don't know why anyone would want to travel in those shoes, but they're really cute!"
Almost simultaneously, he turned to me and said, "DAMN did you see her ass in those pants?!"
(apparently, only anime does "Deadpan"...)
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