Delurk! Do it now! Pretty please?

I’ve seen a few posts about it being International Delurking Week, so I will make this an open invitation:  say hello, willya?  Seems to work best when the blogger asks a question, so…let’s get topical, shall we?

I used to be a terrible TV-wastehead (that’s what we called my uncle when I was a little kid.  Uncle TV Wastehead), but now I have very little time to chill on the couch and zone out.  I started The Walking Dead (three or four attempts and I’ve yet to finish the first damn episode!  Noooo, I’m not sleep deprived or anything) on Netflix, but I feel like I’m possibly ignoring some better stuff that’s available.  I’ve yet to start Downton Abbey, or several other series that I have heard good things about.  In your opinion, should I keep going with TWD, or abandon it and start something else?  I am much more of a TV-series person than a movie person, so please keep your recommendations to the former rather than the latter, if you can.

Okay, go!



It’s now Sunday evening Monday morning, and I’m still having a hard time grasping what happened in Connecticut on Friday.  I saw some headlines via Facebook on Friday morning shortly before we headed into our lunchtime holiday party, and remained fairly glued to my phone throughout, hoping that the initially reported numbers of dead children would be some kind of mathematical fuckup, a false accounting, anything that would make that final number go down, not up by one or two more in the end.  I tried to not think about it and participate in the silly reindeer games during the party, but laughing and enjoying myself felt so horribly wrong.  I desperately wanted to just get up, walk out to the parking lot, and drive to my mom’s house and hold Ike. When I got there a few hours later, she hadn’t even heard the news yet.  I didn’t want to tell her.

I have tried to avoid the news, at least televised – I definitely do not want to see small children trying to explain what they had seen.  I don’t have anything brilliantly insightful to say about it.  It’s horrifying. No explanation could possibly be satisfying.  I don’t know that there is anything we can do to truly prevent all recurrences, but I also don’t think that we should live in fear of something you can never see coming anyway.  I am just trying to enjoy my child, every second that I have the opportunity.  I don’t know what else I can do, other than hold on tight, and still know that I’ll have to let go at times as well.  I am thankful that Ike is still way too young to need an explanation from us.  How can you explain the incomprehensible?

I have seen references a hundred times this weekend – look for the helpers.  There are bad people that do bad things, but most people are helpers.  Thanks, Mister Rogers, for helping us remember that.


Health stuff:  I took Ike for the ultrasound of his noggin this morning. Of course it will be a few days before the radiologist reads the images and gets the information back to the pediatrician’s office, so we don’t really know anything yet, other than that he is still the offspring of a big-headed father, so I am not too nervous about that.  Just glad that his fontanel is still open enough that they could do an ultrasound and not have to knock him out for an MRI.  Still no word from the hepatologist’s office in Cincinnati about the latest round of bloodwork. Not sure if I should call them and ask, or assume they just wanted it as a new baseline and I’ll hear from them after we repeat it next month.  Again, not too nervous about it since the doctor was so reassuring.

Halloween stuff:  Our Beggar’s Night (do they still call it that, or is it back to Trick or Treat?) was postponed due to the icky weather, so we’ll be dressing Ike up to hand out candy on Saturday instead of last night.  We did go to a friend’s kids Halloween party on Friday, but it was so warm in the house that he only had his Tigger outfit on for a few minutes.  Didn’t even get a picture, so we’ll have to try that and the panda outfit both on Saturday.  He’ll surely drool and/or spit up at least enough to justify that wardrobe change.

Mike and I did go to an adults’ party on Saturday.  He recycled his Dick Cheney mask from several years ago, and I cobbled together a Toddlers & Tiaras costume using my sister’s tutu from the box of old dance recital costumes in my parents’ basement, the tiara from my bachelorette party, pigtails, excessive (for me) eye makeup and one of Ike’s future sippy cups.  Plus my I FUCK LIKE A GIRL t-shirt because, well, seems legit, right?

There was beer, and plenty of it:


I’ve misplaced my sippy cup, but I think I like this better!


Aren’t we cute?

Supply stuff:  have been having a fairly significant dip in my pumping output, and have been trying many things to get back on track. Thankfully Ike has only had to have one or less partial bottles of formula on really low days to tide him over.  I hate that he’s had any, but it’s not enough to diminish the benefits of breastmilk, I’m sure.  I ended up breaking down and buying a new pump.  The one my friend loaned me had already been through three babies, so I think I was lucky to have gotten as far as I did with it.  The new one is helping, though I’m still not ending up with much of a surplus every day.  I think it’s partially hormonal (maybe my period is about to come back? Eeeeeeeek!), and partially stress-related, and was exacerbated at first by a failing pump.  I started calcium/magnesium supplements, which I should have done while I was off dairy anyway, have been trying to add an extra pumping session at work whenever I can, and am drinking Mother’s Milk tea like a fiend until my fenugreek and blessed thistle arrive via Amazon.  Hoping I’ll be able to ramp back up to get a few extra bottles in the fridge again on a regular basis.  They never hang around long enough to be worth putting into the freezer anymore, so I just try to rotate FIFO at my parents’ house, and anything left on a Friday, of which there was almost none last Friday, can come home for the weekend, letting Mike take an overnight shift on occasion.

Development stuff:  my mom said that Ike’s been showing off a new consonant, and it’s M!  He’s been saying MEH, which cracks me up, because…that’s so my kid.  Not that I really think he means it like I would like to interpret it, but funny all the same.


So perhaps there’s a chance that Mama will end up being his first word after all.  I haven’t yet actually heard him say this myself, but I can’t imagine that my mom would tell tall tales.  She also noted that he enjoyed seeing his first snowflakes yesterday.  They usually walk her dog every morning, but since it was so miserable outside they just took her out in the yard instead of taking the stroller around the block. A few flakes fell on his face and he smiled.  Hopefully we won’t have a totally snow-free winter like we did last year, and he’ll be able to really enjoy some snow as he gets bigger over the next several months.

That’s all for now, I suppose.  Oh!  Tonight I get to go meet and visit with my friend’s sister’s newborn baby girl.  I think she’s only threeish weeks old, and I cannot wait.  I have a total newborn addiction anymore.  So grateful to be able to enjoy things like this now.  There was a time not so very long ago when I would never consider doing such a thing, because it would just have made me too jealous and upset.  Yet now I’m excited and looking forward to hearing her birth story and passing on some cloth diaper geekery (and supplies).  Fun!

Hope you’re all faring well if you were in or near Sandy’s path.


I’m not really a movie person.  Something ADD in me prefers smaller doses than circa two hours (because anything resolved in that dosage is bound to disappoint?), but the addictive personality in me wants stories that go on longer, constant cliffhangers, as in teevee shows.  I like to expect something yet to come, or something.  And sequels generally suck.  But THIS?  Oh.  Emmmmm.  Geeeeeee.  Even being a romcom chick flick, which I really usually can’t stand, even though Mike calls them Amy Movies (ew), I think this will call for popcorn and a big screen.  Yes, definitely.  (Stealing pics from my new plaid pants.)

Yeah, I could pretty much curl up in that dimple and…something.

Totally gratuitous
Le sighhhh

Oh yes, also, Anne Hathaway.  Who has boobs.  So, you know, bonus.

With the luxury of that eff key all in its place, I kind of feel the need to quantify some of this nonsense.  From what I can figure…yeah.  I’m as usual incredibly worked up over minuscule matters.  This is so over.  I didn’t miss much.  I wouldn’t have even been actually LATE until FRIDAY.  THIS COMING FRIDAY.  Fricking ridiculous.  How am I always the last one to get the joke (unless it’s really funny), but still somehow manage to…?  Yeah.  So, over.  There are a million tiny stories that could be told about this whole three day whirlwind I called a “weekend,” but I don’t think I’m ready to chitchat about details yet.  Ish.  You know.  Word vomit.  None of the other kind.  And after tomorrow I should be done being a pincushion for quite some time.  Yay to that, if nothing else.

No, there are more yays in here.  To do my repetitious compare contrast thing YET again, the difference is quite clear so far.  Insanity nearly ensued after the first, because I was basically living out of town.  Had no people about.  Too…something.  Dependent.  Meh, that’s close enough for the moment.  The second I was literally working out of town, clueless.  Nothing really ensued after the second because it was right before Christmas, so I was annoyed with too many other things and never really did any of the follow up stuff that would have been advisable, to some extent, by some people, anyway.  The third time I had people I could TELL.  Who weren’t all 45 minutes away minimum.  So as much as I cringed all day when I’d get three supportive texts in whatever random five minute interval had allowed me to forget for a minute, I can’t say I’m not a big puddle of mushy appreciation for friends that get it even if they don’t GET IT get it.  Good people, plenty of them, I really can’t bitch too much here.

But apparently the third is also somehow a big effing deal.  I think that’s part of my PTSD type reactions here…I’m usually alarmed enough for a group of people, so…to have someone else show genuine alarm-type concern for ME is…alarming.  To say the least.  Yuck.  So riddle me this:  why would I go spend a metric fuckton of money when I don’t even have a quarter of said fuckton of money to find out whether I can do something I want to do in a way that I’m not sure is all that necessary to the process?  Hmmmm?  Why…why would I do that?  I mean…ew.  Out of all the disgusting things that go along with this little joyride, my own stupidity regarding the SCIENCE, the geekery, the fascination I seem to have with understanding the whole problem is…annoying me already.  I gotta let it go.  Just, no.  Just say no.  I WANNA QUIT THE GYM.

Dammit.  The videos are all unembeddable.  OH YES, THAT’S A WORD NOW.

Monica: (Picking up a card from Chandler’s wallet.) My God! Is this a gym card?
Chandler: Oh yeah, gym member. I try to go four times a week, but I’ve missed the last 1200 times.
Ross: So why don’t you quit?
Chandler: You don’t think I’ve tried? You think I like having 50 dollars taken out of my bank account every month? No, they make you go all the way down there! Then they use all of these phrases and peppiness to try and confuse you! Then they bring out Maria.
Ross: Who is Maria?
Chandler: Oh Maria. You can’t say no to her, she’s like this lycra spandex covered gym…treat.
Ross: You need me to go down there with you and hold your hand?
Chandler: No!
Ross: So you’re strong enough to face her on your own?
Chandler: Oh no, you’ll have to come.


[Scene: Chandler’s gym, He and Ross are there to cancel his membership.]
Ross: Whoa-whoa-whoa, hey! Now remember what we talked about, you gotta be strong.
Chandler: Yes. (In a stronger voice) Yes!
Ross: One more time, “Hey, don’t you want a washboard stomach and rock hard pecs?”
Chandler: No! I want a flabby gut and saggy man breasts!
Ross: Good! That’s good!
Chandler: Okay. (They go inside) (To the guy at the desk) I wanna quit the gym.
Gym Employee: You wanna quit?
Chandler: I wanna quit the gym.
Gym Employee: You do realize that you won’t have access to our new full service Swedish spa.
Chandler: (He turns to Ross and Ross makes a ‘Be strong’ sound.) I wanna quit the gym.
Gym Employee: Okay, Dave in the membership office, handles quitters. (Both Chandler and Ross start to make their way to the membership office.) Uh, excuse me, (to Ross) are you a member?
Ross: Me? No.
Gym Employee: Sorry, members only.
Chandler: (horrified at the prospect of trying to quit alone and unsure about himself) I wanna quit the gym.
Ross: It’s okay man, be strong. (Chandler goes into the office.)
Gym Employee: (to Ross) So, are you a member of any gym.
Ross: No! And I’m not gonna be, so you can save you little speech.
Gym Employee: Okay, no problem. (To someone out of the picture) Could you come here for a second?
(This gorgeous woman in spandex walks up)
Woman: Hi, I’m Maria.
(Ross is at a loss for words.)

[Scene:  Chandler’s Gym. Chandler is now in Dave’s office trying to quit the gym.]
Chandler: I want to quit the gym!
Dave: Now, can you honestly tell me that your 100% satisfied with your body?
Chandler: Yes! Yes! Most of the time. I mean, sure, I have my bad days, but then I remember what a cute smile I have. (smiles)
Dave: Well, we were voted “Best-equipped Gym in New York” two years running.  Do you really want to give that up?
Chandler: Yes, I hate it here! Everything that you have in here is very heavy!
(Dave’s phone rings.)
Dave: (answers) Yeah. (listens) Really? Okay. (hangs up) You don’t want to make your friend work out alone, do you?
Chandler:  What friend?
Dave: Your friend Ross just joined. (pulls up the blinds in his office to reveal Ross on an exercise bike; he waves. Maria is standing by him and wipes Ross’ face with a towel from the sweat.)
[Scene: Central Perk, Joey is telling Monica and Rachel what he has to do.]
Monica: His dancing partner?!
Joey: Yeah, there’s this superintendent’s dance, the Super Ball. I don’t know, and he wants to impress Marge, this lady super that he’s got a crush on.
Rachel: Well, why doesn’t he practice with a girl?
Joey: Well, he’s too shy, he doesn’t thing he’s good enough to dance with girls yet.
Rachel: Yeah, right, he almost danced me right down that…garbage chute. (Starts to cry)
Monica: Oh, would you let it go already?! You’re fine!
(Chandler and Ross enter)
Chandler: Hey.
Rachel: Hey! So, did you quit?
Chandler: No, I almost did, couldn’t leave Ross there without a spotter!
Monica: Wait, now so you joined the gym?
(Rachel starts to laugh.)
Ross: And that’s funny, why?
Rachel: Oh, umm, I was just y’know working out and umm… Oh, that’s it.
Chandler: We’re doomed. Okay, they’re gonna take 50 bucks out of our accounts for the rest of our lives. What are we gonna do?
Monica: Well, you could actually go to the gym.
(Chandler and Ross both laugh)
Ross: Or! Or, we could go to the bank, close our accounts and cut them off at the source.
Chandler: You’re a genius!
Joey: Aww, man, now we won’t be bank buddies!
Chandler: Now, there’s two reasons.

[Scene: Monica and Rachel’s, Chandler and Ross are telling Joey, Rachel, and Monica of their bank woes.]
Monica: So you didn’t leave the bank?
Ross: No! And somehow, we ended up with a joint checking account.
Rachel: What are you ever gonna use that for?!
Chandler: To pay for the gym.
(Phoebe enters)
The other storyline in that episode is pretty equally hilarious.  Just can’t work that in tonight.