are things complicated yet?

It was bad, but then it got worse.

Life without Jake is weird. I keep thinking he's been the victim of a series of hapless, unfortunate mistakes that need to be remedied immediately.

The dog's food and water bowls are not in the utlity room. Who took those out of here?! Jake is probably really hungry and thirsty!

His door is closed, which I discover after we've been home for hours. Who closed Jake's door? OMG, he can't go outside!

I haven't seen Jake in a while. Where's the dog? Is he hiding out somewhere? Did he go upstairs and can't come down?

Of course, all of these end with me thinking, "Ohhhhhh. Riiiiight." Every day stings a little. Tomorrow will be better than today. But, yeah. We miss him.

***

As painful as that was, what happened next was worse. It was far, far worse.

On Monday we said goodbye to Jake. On Tuesday, a friend's 15-year-old son was struck by a pickup truck while he was crossing the street. His injuries left him brain dead, but on life support. On Wednesday, his family made an incredibly difficult, awful, heart-wrenching decision. His organs were donated. Five lives were saved.

But, Jackson was gone.

It was terrible. Beyond awful. I have known this family for most of Jackson's life and I have watched him grow up through the stories I've heard from his mother. Jackson did this and Jackson said that. The girls at school liked his Beiber haircut and I do too. Beiber suits him. Here's a story from last September that I found in my inbox:

Jackson is now a freshman in high school.  His mother overheard this pick up line he tried to use at Dairy Queen.

 

"Did you pass gas? Because you just blew me away."

 

The line was not successful.

Funny, right?  He was loved and bright and he had such a wonderful, happy future in front of him. It is so unfair. Beyond comprehensible. It's wrong and there's not a way to right it and I just want to scream at God and really chew him out for this. But, that's not really how He works. He doesn't take appeals on topics like this. 

My mother told me that after a funeral or memorial service she usually feels better. She may not feel good, exactly, but she usually feels somewhat better or a sense of closure or peace. She did not feel that way this time. It's too tragic, too awful. He was so young. 

It just sucks.

***

After all of that, I'm kind of in a hug-my-kids-a-little-tighter mood these days. I am forgiving of a lot more bad behavior. I'm a little more indulgent. It was a week that made me give thanks for the good things we have and the blessings that surround us.

So, yeah. That's it for now. Next week will be better.

A few thoughts on a topic I have only a cursory understanding of: The Career Path of a Professional Football Player. (In other words, maybe I shouldn't even post this.)

I have spent a lot of time lately thinking about the ideal career trajectory for a football player in the NFL.  I'm not even sure WHY I've been thinking about this other than it's a topic I find mildly fascinating. (Generally speaking, I'm not even an NFL fan.)

This is how the conversation with myself goes when I drive to work in the morning:

These dudes start out in high school as stars, go to college and get beat around on the field there for a couple of years. In return for the development and exposure on the national stage they also get a free education, if they happen to be on scholoarship.  But, they're not allowed to have other jobs.  Their job is football and school, per the NCAA. Collectively, they bring their schools and the NCAA millions (perhaps billions?) of dollars in revenue from ticket sales, licensed merchandise, other things I'm not even aware of and alumni donations. (Because when the football team is doing well, people tend to have warmer and fuzzier feelings about the school and they write checks more easily.)

In return, they get the crap beat out of them and they have a good time and they hope to maybe get drafted one day.  If they don't, they hope the education they got nets a decent job. They also hope that they do not suffer a career-ending injury before their career even starts. 

This seems like a crap deal for the player. Actually, it's OBVIOUSLY a crap deal for the player. The player seems to be taking on a lot of risk for not a lot of reward at this point.  (It's only potential reward, and it's a slim opportunity at best.) The value of the scholarship can't possibly equal the value the player brings to the school. It's a closed system though, so if a guy wants to play in the NFL he NEEDS that game time at a Division 1 school and, well, those are the terms it's offered under.  Take it or leave it. There's not really another path to professional success. I'm not saying I know what the GOOD deal or path is, but it just seems kind of lopsided and crappy to me.  (And, obvs I am only talking about mid to top tier players at Division 1 schools here. People who have no chance to make it to the NFL don't fit into my daily oddball thoughts on this subject.)

If you don't get drafted maybe that's okay. Maybe, for some people, the opportunity for an education was worth it and the physical toll in college wasn't too great and, besides that, it was fun.  (Even though I hate the idea of "fun" as valid compensation. You can't eat fun. You can't retire on fun. Fun is percieved and valued relative to the individual. I am sure there are people who hate playing football but do it anyway for other reasons.) 

If the dude actually gets drafted it's a different story. He finally makes some money off of his talent that other people have been making money off of for years. He plays in the NFL and he gets paid pretty well.  Maybe even REALLY well. His career can end at any time, on or off the field, with one car accident or one bad hit or one blown knee.

But, the risk a player takes on is not why he gets paid a lot. They get paid a lot because there's a lot of money to go around in this business. I don't think there are any owners paying players a lot of money because they know this money is supposed to last the next 70 years for the player.  They pay them a lot so they won't play on other teams that will pay them more. But, only a few players get that kind crazy-money treatment.  I mean, the league minimum is $310k. If a person played for three years at that rate (I know it would go up a little each year, but let's keep the math simple), after taxes it'd be about $600k. Hardly "last a lifetime" money.

Plus, these guys are on the clock. For a "career" it sure doesn't last a long time. The player's association backs this up: average tenure in the NFL is 3.5 seasons and 24% of the players get injured every year. That's...a lot of hurt dudes. Even if someone doesn't get dinged in that 24%? Most guys will get injured, either spectacularly or slowly, over the spread of a few seasons. Their usefulness will wane. But, some will still keep playing as long as someone pays.

The Smart Dudes see this coming and they save their money, play wisely and well for a few years and stop.  They will stop before the damage to their bodies becomes noticeable at the ripe old age of 25. They will stop playing and they will take that money and do something else with it like start a business or get a job coaching or SOMETHING, ANYTHING. Basically, they stop getting the shit beat out of them.

The Stupid Dudes keep playing, keep slogging through, keep coming back.  When a team releases him he finds a new one. When he gets injured he rehabs it and goes back.  He plays for what is considered a long time: 5 or 8 years. Maybe more. By the time he's finished, either by choice or forced circumstance, he's done a lot of damage to his body.  He'll be old before he's middle-aged. He'll hurt for a long time. But he might have a nice stash of cash for his trouble.  (But! Money! It does not buy happiness!) If he's lucky, he was a good, notable player and maybe he has some endorsements. But if he didn't save his money and he was an average player with no star power, he's under 30 and he probably needs a job.

And none of this is news, really. It's all been said and pointed out by people far more sports-minded than I am.  (But, like I said, I CAN'T HELP THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SOME ODDBALL REASON.)

In this sense, being a professional football player doesn't sound awesome to me. It sounds like a lot of sacrifice and risk for a slim chance at great reward. It sounds a lot like using your 401k to buy lottery tickets. I don't see this level of risk taken on in other professional sports, which is why I think I find it all so mind-boggling and interesting that anyone would WANT to do this with their life. Perhaps I'm totally wrong though?

It's just...I don't know. I don't think I'm that far off. Why do kids want to do this? (Likely Answers: Fame. Fortune. Chicks.) It doesn't seem all that wonderful when the realities are examined and the alternatives considered. Even when it works out and you're a star and you make millions it seems like your body will be broken before you're 50 if you spend a significant amount of time in the NFL. And even if you get lucky and don't end up all broken and bruised, there's all of that RISK the entire time you're on the field.  Your quality of life after the game is almost guaranteed to be kind of crappy in a physical well-being sense.  Aren't there other ways to make your fortune and keep your knees?

(Maybe yes, but those ways require more effort and time unless you invent Facebook so, hell yes, they'll totally go knock some dudes down and get paid and worry about the future later. Knees? In ten years they'll be able to grow new knees from cucumbers in the KneeMaker4000. KNEES ARE OPTIONAL.)

(Also, I know that for some talented kids football seems like A Way Out or a Ticket To A Good Future and I get that but I just figure almost anyone is better off taking the education and running the other way than going for the draft.)

It seems so selfish. Who wants to not be able to run around with your kids at 45? Who wants to live a life in constant pain?  Who wants to have joints that ache when your wife is still walking with ease at 40?  I know the obvious answer is that this seems EASY and if there's anything people like it's easy money, but man...it doesn't seem all that easy to me. (Gah, this is SUCH a Mom sentiment isn't it? "Don't get hurt! Get a desk job!")

There must be players that don't fit into this description. Players that are healthy and feel good after their days on the field are over. Players that saved their money. But, I am guessing they are the exception. 

It's like a question in one of those books: If you could be guaranteed several million dollars, fame and the best time of your life for three years, but afterwards would likely be in a great deal of physical pain for the rest of your life, with an added risk of brain damage, would you do it?

Uh, no. No, I would not.

***

(I promise that you will never see another sports post on this website again. I've got it out of my system now.)

Decision points

We might have named the baby two nights ago. We had the stupid book out (that is so worn the section of girl names from D to S has become detached from the binding) and a list of names that I'd been strategically prioritizing based on style and type and what we both seemed to like and this one name popped out at both of us. The big moment wasn't the popping out at us, it was the moment after where nobody rejected it and the name hung in the air and finally Chris said "I think I might really like that one," and I realized that I might really like it too.

So, am letting that one percolate for a few days. At least it's progress instead of the stalemate where I was in love with Baby Name A and Chris was in love with Baby Name B and neither of us really liked the other person's dream name. (For the record, I am still in love with Baby Name A. I have not let go of my dream.)

Baby naming is TOUGH.

***

Our other daughter already has a name though and last weekend we put it on the wall, just in case we forget who lives in what room.

The letters are from Pottery Barn Kids (where I am tempted to never ever ever shop again and it's a really long story about how they screwed me over and I might tell it another day but really, I am still SO MAD about it that typing this parenthetical explanation is making my blood pressure rise so I just CANNOT right now). I bought them when we moved in (last March, almost a year, can you believe it?) and I was going to hang them over her crib but then I realized that she'd be in a BGB soon enough and that might change the layout of the room so I put them in a drawer.

I'm glad I waited, because her bed is totally not in the same place as the crib. Also? These letters were the most gigantic Pain In The Ass to hang up and it took ten screws, a homemade template, a level, a square, a drill and way too much of Chris' time. I am so glad we only did this once. Plus, the letters cost too much in the first place, which is another strike against them and a reason I cannot recommend anyone purchase these stupid things.

But golly, they sure are kind of cute.

I wasn't counting on the white letters getting so lost on the pink wall, so I'm thinking about painting them a glossy hot pink. (I bought these particular ones mostly because I liked the font and was finding a similar, cheaper option tough to locate.)

You'll also notice that the totally awesome and kick ass Land of Nod Circles quilt came in the mail and even though it also cost too much I LOVE IT.  (I really seem to like things that cost too much.) The colors are so bright and happy and I love that I am not locked into a character theme or even a color scheme.  I also sprung for the two matching pillow cases and when I put them on her pillows last week her eyes got big and wide and she said, "Tha's for me? PRETTY!" 

The pillow cases might be better than any Christmas present she recieved. Figures.

***

I ordered a print from Etsy this week for the baby's room and it's, um, the only thing I've bought. Should be here this week and then I'll have to frame it, which is a whole OTHER errand that I'm not looking forward to.

And, speaking of errands, I have decided that I am too good to shop in a store. As in, I will no longer be going out of my way or even stopping ON my way to buy things in a bricks and mortar store. I just won't.  Every time I think, "Oh, I should just pop in there," I am going to remind myself about this paragraph. I hate the driving and the parking and in-store shopping experience. I hate the well-meaning sales people with goals and quotas to meet, I hate the other patrons, I hate not being able to Google the shelves and price compare with the click of a button. I hate not being able to see only what I want to see and sort by price or color or size. I simply do not have a lot of time to just tool around looking at shit to buy and dealing with morons and if I can't buy it online for free or cheap shipping? That means I probably don't need it.

I've decided to buy (almost) everything via Amazon Prime or at Walmart, which is where I have to go every week anyway for food. This decision is directly related to the PBK Incident Of High Blood Pressure. I just do not have gobs of free time to spend messing around with idiots. I JUST DON'T.

***

Sometime in the past two weeks, I seem to have swallowed a basketball. I'd take a picture but I'm already in my pajamas and...meh. Maybe next time. I've got 11 weeks left, give or take. This pregnancy seems to be flying by, which is good as I do not really enjoy the part about BEING pregnant.

***

It snowed last week. It was icy and we stayed home for four days and while it is SO EASY to complain about being locked up in a house for four days with a toddler and no friends and the same toys (and trust me, I did complain), I really liked it. It was nice to spend so much time with just us, just at home, just together.

Well, good morning to you too, internet

It appears that my Yahoo! account sent a lot of spam last night and the same person/bot also got into my Typepad account and posted a super fun link here.  I've deleted the post, but it will still show up in your readers.  I'd maybe not click on it if I were you.

Passwords have all been changed but if you notice any other oddities in my online presence I'd be most grateful if you'd let me know.

Argh.  Just what I wanted to take care of first thing this morning.  Doesn't the internet know I have a baby shower to plan for Saturday!?  I HAVE IMPORTANT THINGS TO DO.

It's perfect for me

Every morning I get dressed, make lunches, locate shoes, drop her off at school and go to work.  I come home after a day at my desk, tired and hungry because I forgot to eat lunch again and I've been talking talking typing reading thinking for hours and all I want to do in the whole wide world is sit quietly for ten minutes with my eyes closed and not read email, not converse, not dial the phone, not think, not anything. 

But I can't.  My second career for the day has started.  It's time to play with blocks and ride the bicycle (tricycle) and get cereal bars from the pantry.  It's time to defrost some chicken for dinner and unload the dishwasher, sort the mail, start some laundry.  I am asked to turn on Elmo, Nemo, Elmo, Nemo, ELMO!  I run and I jump and I play and I dance and I hide and I seek on command.  I give her crayons and paper and warn her about the walls.  I fill the tub with warm bubbly water and watch her make maw-ga-weetas with a plastic cup that she shakes high above her head and I smother her with kisses and books before tucking her into bed with her favorite stuffed monkey.  I always wonder if it was enough.  Did I do a good job at this today?  I think so.

Then I take on my third role for the day.  I sit and talk, really talk, with my husband and 3 nights out of 5 I wait to make our dinner until after she's gone to bed so we can eat it in peace with giant glasses of wine that we savor in the dim twilight of a lingering summer.  We talk about the news and the stupid politicians and this funny thing someone said on Twitter.  We talk about people we know and things we want to buy when we have limitless stores of cash.  We watch Netflix and television on the sofa, me curled up next to him, the dog at my feet.

Sometimes I go to the gym or I plan birthday parties.  I make grocery lists, I fold laundry or I sit upstairs and watch 4 episodes of True Blood because he doesn't like it and I love it. I get a pedicure with my friend down the street because out here in the suburbs people I know actually live close to me.  I talk to my friends in the computer and I troll the unlimited content of my reader.  I putter.  I sit and I finally get my quiet time.  Sometimes.

It is tough and grinding and exhausting, this daily juggle of wants and needs.  It is constant prioritization, sacrifice and muscle.  It is weighing This versus That a thousand times for a variety of people.  Some days, it seems like either everyone is happy or nobody is happy and there is no in-between.  I fight with my roles and pit them against each another, calm with the knowledge that I'll never, ever achieve the perfect version of a stupid notion called balance. (I'd like to smack the person who came up with THAT idea.)  I tell myself that my life isn't complex, but as I go through the motions of each day I'm always shown that it actually is.  Admitting that things are complicated isn't a weakness.  It's just a fact.

I wish there were more hours in the day to get everything neat and tidy for the next one. I wish I had more time with her and with him and for me. It is wonderful and at times it can be horrible, but this life is all mine.  We are lucky to have opportunities to push and pull the mechanisms that impact our day-to-day.  It's these opportunities to control our own destiny that remind me we're living a quintessential American story. 

It's not a perfect life.  Not a magazine or television life.  Hell, it's not even good enough for a post on a shelter or design blog (just look at the three half-eaten containers of yogurt that have been on the kitchen countertop all day).  Even though it's messy and I'm guaranteed hard work in every day, it's my life and I'm fortunate that it's entirely up to me to make it as good or as bad as I want. 

I deeply value my freedom to make my own decisions.  There's nobody but myself to say I can't do something.  I live with my successes and I live with my failures.

It's kind of kick-ass to have that kind of power. A lot of people worldwide don't. I can do or be or change whatever I want.

I'm thinking about making myself a cape.  It'll make the drudgery of laundry a little more exciting, don't you think?

This is the story of a girl and her balloon

A few weeks ago on Claire's birthday, we went to Central Market to pick up some foodstuffs for The Big Birthday Meal.  It's this fancy pants grocery store where everything is imported, organic, sparkly, overpriced and delicious and, well, I love the place.  Claire and I go there a lot.

Central Market is one of the few places these days that keeps a hefty supply of balloons on hand for the kiddos.  You can pick one up at the door right when you walk in.  They're usually purple or green.

I had gotten her balloons before but she really hadn't paid much interest.  Mostly she'd gape wide-eyed at it while we shopped.

That all changed this weekend.

We were in Houston at a sort of fall festival type thing.  There was a car wash handing out balloons and, well, Claire really wanted one.  She ran straight towards the suckers.

She had a hard time waiting her turn.  She was #3 and she definitely didn't understand the idea that other people would get theirs first.  Another kid would get a balloon before her and she'd look at me like,

"What?  Can't they see that I want a balloon?  REALLY BADLY?  RIGHT NOW?"

 

We tied it to her hand, but she really didn't like that.

So, we put it on the stroller.  Oh, Vintage Car Wash on Louetta, THANK YOU for this wonderful and amazing balloon.  It has truly changed our lives and we will remember it forever.

That afternoon and evening?  She wouldn't let go of the stupid thing.  Chris tied it to some toy to weigh it down and she carried it all over the house.  She batted at it and threw it but she did not let it leave her sight. She giggled and grinned and just freaking LOVED that stupid balloon.

The next morning she made a beeline for it.  It was all sad and laying on the floor without the benefit of helium to make to float.  She didn't care.  She dragged it around for another few hours until it was time to go home.

After we got back from Houston that day, we ended up at Central Market for lunch.  While we were eating she saw another kid with a balloon across the restaurant.  She pointed and swiveled her head as the child with the balloon exited the room.  She clearly recognized it and wanted one.

So, OF COURSE, we got her a balloon once we were finished eating.  (Dudes, they're free.)  I am not even exaggerating when I tell you that she started dancing wildly in that buggy when she spied the balloon destined for her.  She was THRILLED BEYOND MEASURE.

One the way home Claire passed out in her car seat, still clutching her balloon.  It was so cute.

Same story once we got home: Chris tied it to a toy, she dragged it around for hours.  She was unbelievably delighted.  Soon enough though, it was time for a bath and bedtime.  Claire really likes to take a bath so when she threw a gigantic hissy fit about it, I was surprised. 

She even stood up and threw a leg over the side of the tub (a new trick for her) while clinging to me, in a wild effort to escape.  She was literally clawing at me and screaming and climbing up my body to GET OUT.

And, pray tell, what did Miss Claire need? 

Her balloon. 

In the bath tub.

OF COURSE.  HOW LOGICAL.

Let's sort through the contents of my order from Gap, shall we?

I really love my UPS man.  He's so nice and kind and SUPER efficient.  He always stops by my house on his way back to the facility to see if we're home when there's a signature required.  (Those packages are always a case of wine and, well, I think he understands that we'd like to have that in our hot little hands as soon as possible.)

Today Kevin (yeah, I know his name), dropped off the best box of fun ever.  It is a Big Box Of Banana Republic Fun!

Let's take inventory, shall we?

(Oh, wait.  Something you should know about me is that I habitually order several hundred dollars worth of clothes online and then only keep a fraction of it.  I actually visit the stores in person to decide what I am going to order ONLINE so I can try it on at home without a certain wiggly, whiny someone getting int he way of me making a good purchasing decision.  Lame?  Certainly.  But it works for me.)

(Also, I got 25% off the whole order because of some promo they were running so I was in a "the more the merrier" sort of mood.)

So.  Let's delve into the box, shall we?

***

Supersoft layering v-neck T, Color: true black

$19.50

Supersoft layering v-neck T, Color: new navy
$19.50

So, I got these shirts in navy and black with the intent of wearing them a lot after work and on the weekends.  I really love a good v-neck, it flatters my particular body type and I hate high crew necks because I always feel like I'm choking.  Plus, with 25% off they were like $14

Sailor pencil skirt

Color: true black

$49.50

I hated this skirt for unspecified reasons.  Also?  Too expensive for a dumb black skirt.  RETURN!

Knit pants

Color: red

Unit price: $12.50 $4.99

Dudes!  I love slash-through pricing on my invoice!  Look at all that cash I saved.  And, in case you didn't figure it out, these are pants for CLAIRE, not me.

 

Little pocket T

Color: strawberry

Unit price: $19.50 $9.99

For $10?  I LOVE THIS SHIRT.  It's soft, the sleeves go to mid-palm, (which I love in the winter) and it's such a bright fun color.  And also?  It looks great under this dress:

Double-knit pleated dress

Color: true black knit

Unit price: $59.50

Now, truthfully?  This dress is no great find.  It's just a stupid, black, shapeless dress that you can wear on your fattest of fat days and still be all, "But hey!  I'm wearing a dress to work so that's better than pajamas!"  Because of the empire waist, I could probably even wear this pregnant until about month 7.  So yeah, it's not that flattering.  But I have decided that dresses are my New Work Thing so I'm actively trying to find some that are simple, easy to accessorize, comfortable, non dry-clean-only and less than $100.  This fits the bill.  Sold.

Quilted barn jacket

Color light english rose

Unit price $34.50

I wanted to keep Claire warm this winter.  This is the jacket I picked.  Like the reviews on the site though, it's kind of smallish.  Will be exchanging for the next size up.  Cute coat though and after the coupon it was just as much as the ones at Target that I didn't think were nearly as cute.  I mean, this one has polka dots.  POLKA DOTS.  I cannot say no to those.

Origami sheath dress

Color Black

Unit price $142.00 $89.99

Again with the dresses for work thing.  I'm pretty short-waisted, so this dress didn't fit me correctly.  There was about 3" too much dress in the waist and it looked rather frump.  On a 3" taller person though, this dress would be super cute. RETURN!

Lightweight wool sheath dress

ColorTaupe heather

Unit price $152.00 

I knew this was more than I wanted to pay for a dress, but I just thought it was so cute on the model.  (Note to self:  YOU ARE NOT A MODEL.)  I even looked for it in-store to try on so I could avoid ordering a $152 dress.  But my local Banana was out of them, which made me think that maybe it might be a totally awesome dress since it was all sold out.  It's not.  The pleats are all retarded and look stupid.  RETURN!

Long-sleeve turtleneck sweater

Color Black

Unit price $59.50

They had this sweater under the dress above and really it was SO cute.  So I tried it.  And it looked stupid on me.  And this sweater is soft and nice but it hits me on the hip weird and makes me look fat so, no.  RETURN!

Eliza slouch high-heel boot

Color Black suede

Unit price $198

I only ordered these boots because after I was in San Francisco this summer and I saw EVERYONE wearing sassy boots I decided that I was woefully behind the times and I needed some sassy boots.  I also hate department stores, don't have time to drive 30 minutes to one and back to try on boots so I figured I needed to order SOME boots to try on and at least see if this was a trend I was interested in.

I AM INTERESTED.  I love these boots.  They have a too-high heel, the suede is totally impractical, they cost too much ($150 after my coupon...but still), you can't wear them in the rain, blah, blah, a thousand reasons to return them and....I can't.  I'm keeping them.  This is my splurge purchase of the season after a year and a half of not buying anything except maternity clothes, cheapie post-partum clothes I hated and pajamas. I'm keeping the damn boots.

I know I could probably find them elsewhere, at better quality for maybe the same price or less.  But, to be honest, I don't have time for that.  If I shopped around I'd be without boots until February.  That wouldn't be any fun.

***

Thus concludes the adventure with Banana Republic and Gap today.  Where are YOU shopping lately? Any finds?  I am discovering that I hate a lot of what's for sale this season, which is frustrating when I DO find ten minutes to dart into a store on my own.

I call this one "Potpourri"

Tonight, I am going to hit the "publish" button.  I SWEAR.

I have written so many posts in the past few weeks that sit unfinished in my drafts folder.  SO MANY.  All the while things keep happening and I keep not writing about them.  Every time I sit down it's easier to read things other people write instead of bothering to write my own.

Claire is walking.  It started last Saturday with onesie-twosie steps, progressed to three-four steps at a time on Tuesday and today (Thursday) it's 15 or 20 in a row.  She's even mastered the art of CHANGING DIRECTION.  Seeing my daughter freaking WALK across the kitchen blows my mind like nothing else.

I remember one day, a long time ago, when I could put her on a blanket, leave the room and she'd be in the exact same place I left her.  No more, my friends.  NO MORE.  As Manda told me, it's GAME OVER now.

Enter the Tot Lok.  We have not childproofed, uh, anything at all really.  There are poisons in the cabinets under the sink.  There are sharp Cuisinart blades in another one.  And all kinds of baby-killing chemicals in the bathroom cabinets.  It hasn't occurred to Claire yet that cabinets open and fun things might be hiding inside, so we haven't been too worried.  (Obviously, I know that she could decide to scamper in there at any moment, so we've been pretty watchful.)

Sure, I could just move the baby-killing things to another location but we are severely space-challenged in this badly designed home with NO CLOSETS.  There is quite literally no place to put unwanted, baby killing items.  Everything must stay where it already lives.  Even if it IS a baby-killing item, we still have to clean bath tubs and toilets and wash dishes around here.

I bought some magnetic door closer thingys called Tot Loks because my friend Becky told me they were great and they had the most Amazon reviews that seemed credible.  If the past week is any indication of Claire's capacity to learn new things I think we need to get these suckers on the door STAT.  All the reviews at Amazon also said they were a total pain in the ass to install so this is totally going to be a job for Chris.  Everyone wish him luck, Amazon says he'll need it.

So, next up is Blurb.  Have you all used the new Blurb?  It is kind of amazing.  It's basically a super simple desktop publishing program a la Quark for all you 90's yearbook folks.  You can change text and image box sizes and it's all fancy and high-end with their magazine-style layouts.  I'd ordered a small book last year to check out the quality and it was nice.  I looked at a LOT of these sites like mypublisher, books from shutterfly, etc and this was the only one that was acceptable to me.  Everything else was kind of cheap-o or had marginal print quality.

Actually, it was beyond acceptable, it was really nice.  And people, I AM DISCRIMINATING.  My day-job is to meticulously analyze print quality and color replication and Blurb?  Their books were great.  I didn't have to have PhotoShop or InDesign (or, even know how to USE those programs) to get it done nicely.  LOVE.  I am totally out of the business of paper scrapbooking and I am all digital now.  No more 4 x 6 prints.  No more doodads and glue and paper scraps.  No more...anything messy at all really.  HOORAY!

I put together an entire album for 2008 in three evenings.  THREE EVENINGS.  DONE!  This is the internet at work folks, in all its glory and awesomeness.  I am so glad that I was not born in pioneer days.  I would have made a terrible pioneer lady what with all the dirt and camping and no Mac Books.  *Shudder.  CAMPING.*

We have decided that Jake is getting old.  I know, huge surprise for a dog that's 13, right?  Well, over the past year he has just been more underfoot and in the way and generally far more annoying.  At first we chalked it up to Baby.  We're not looking out for him as much anymore, we're all a little more stressed, he's a little more needy these days, Claire always has food to toss at him so WHY NOT hang out as close as possible?

But over the past few months it's gotten really bad.  Like, I'll go across the kitchen, put something away and as I turn around Jake is RIGHT THERE and his response time to move back out of the way is delayed by about 5 seconds, so I trip on him. And then I feel bad because I just stepped on the dog and we don't ever take him for a walk any more because he gets tangled in the stroller and LAWSY MERCY we are bad dog parents I love you Jake here's a treat good boy now go away I have to put the baby to bed and your tags jingle so you have to leave the room.

I keep thinking about The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which I watched last night, and how the baby dying at the end really disturbs me.  Seriously, I have not been able to stop thinking about it all day.  I just...really don't like it when babies die in the movies.  Even if they are 80-year old reverse aging Brad Pitt babies.  It was just sad.

The girl who baby sat for Claire two weeks ago got in a car accident last week.  She was driving along, minding her own business when a 16-year-old girl on a bicycle came out of freaking NOWHERE into the road and, well, the babysitter hit her.  The girl rolled up over the hood and cracked her windshield.  Babysitter was totally freaked out, did the 911 thing...turns out the girl has a broken leg but is otherwise OK.  The cops cited the girl for whatever amounts to jaywalking with a bike and getting hit by a car because you are STUPID.  Babysitter is not at fault whatsoever.

So, it's clearly not her fault, right?  But she still has to pay the deductible to get her windshield replaced even though she didn't do anything wrong.  And she's worried that the parents are going to sue her (for what, I have no clue, but you know, everyone wants to sue you so it's a legit concern).  Stuff like this really pisses me off.  I mean, it's so not Babysitter's fault that this stupid girl didn't look both ways before she crossed the road and now she's having to deal with all this crap when really?  The girl and her parents should be all, "Babysitter, we are SO GLAD everyone is ok.  Accidents happen.  Let us pay for your windshield and maybe give you some money for your trouble.  We are sorry our daughter was stupid."  I just really get annoyed when people are stupid, don't own up to it and try to blame someone else.

Sounds like that time someone rear-ended us ON PURPOSE and then Chris got slapped, RIGHT?  ARGH.

The end.  I mean, PUBLISH.

7 quick takes - If I post this in the next 5 minutes I can still get it in on Friday

So, several interesting things in the past week:

1.  My great grandmother passed away.  Thank you so much to all who expressed condolences.  She was 96, had lived a wonderful life and the last few years were difficult for her.  I think Maggie put it best - that even though SHE was ready that didn't mean the rest of us were.

We sat in the back of the smallish church and Chris took Claire to the back when she started babbling happily.  Her tiny squeaks could be heard throughout the service and I fretted abut whether my relatives would be annoyed that she was sort of interrupting poignant moments.  Then I decided that I didn't care - she was MY great grandmother after all and I have a baby and SHE is her great great grand daughter and we have a right to be here and SO WHAT BABIES TALK.  BITE ME.  I was sort of spooled up.

After the service everyone came up to me and said how much they enjoyed her talking.  They said it was nice to have a baby around again.  They said how much they thought it meant to my Grammie that she lived to see her great great grand daughter.  How proud she would be.  How they thought the future of our family was so exciting and how perfectly gorgeous our baby Claire is.

I have a nice family like that. 

2.  Funerals are just not my thing.  I've slowly discovered this about myself over the years but I am just not into community grief.  I do not express my grief well within a group and I do not enjoy the hours upon hours of sadness in a closed space.  I am much more private and I actually feel GUILTY about saying things like, "I really miss her," because I feel like I'm bringing the party down. 

Even though I AM AT A FUNERAL.  Clearly, I have a major hostess complex. 

3. Speaking of not being a downer -- when I die a long, long, LONG time from now, I want there to be an open bar.  And balloons.  And canapes.  And a band.  And maybe some fireworks if there's not a burn ban.  They could spell, "A'Dell Rocked This Life" in the sky. 

4.  When we were at the cemetery there was a headstone for a person who is not yet deceased that was a giant chunk of polished, pink granite.  It had the person's name in it and a big rifle above the name.  Like, a BIG, spanning-from-left-to-right, at least 4-feet wide rifle.  It was kind of awesome because it meant that the dude had picked it himself. 

We wondered what he had been thinking.  Maybe, "When I die, I love my rifle so much I want EVERYONE who cruises by to know that I LIKED HUNTING."

My brother thought that maybe he didn't like hunting at all and just wanted everyone to think that he was a bad ass.  Mission accomplished.  My brother then mused that he might want crossed pistols on his headstone for similar reasons.

Only in Texas.

5.  The girls who watch Claire at daycare asked me today where I shop because I "always have the cutest outfits on."  I was shocked and immediately wondered what I was being buttered up for.  You see, I shop at the "I had a baby a long time ago but lots of my clothes still don't fit so I wear random shit and call them Outfits" store.  Most days I really hate what I'm wearing.

After a few hours though, I realized that maybe they meant that out of alllllll the Moms they see in that place, I am one of the more decently and stylishly dressed ones?  Which, I am not sure how that is possible but....okaaaayyyyy.  I'll take a win here.

6.  I am going to Cancun in a week.  A WEEK!  And you guys, instead of a packing list for ME I have a list of things to pack for Claire.  And (this is so lame) A LIST OF LISTS that I have to make about Claire to give to my Mom so she will have every iota of information and insight I can gather into a spreadsheet format.

Never mind that my Mom is smart and raised two normal kids of her own and it's only 5 days.  No.  I will overload her with paperwork, schedules and binkys and still flip out if Claire so much as whimpers while I'm gone.

Crap.  I am really going to miss her.

7.  I finally purchased my plane ticket for The Blathering.  WOO!

7 quick takes

1.  Back when I was pregnant and had gobs of free time (FREE TIME, HOW I MISS THEE) I got super industrious with Claire's baby book.  I had every stinking part of pregnancy documented before she was born and now that the baby, the main topic, is here I haven't touched it again.  I haven't even been very good at keeping track of interesting dates and milestones.

Part of it is that I am just so darn grateful to get through every day. I don't have time to worry about the past or future.  I am very focused on the present right now.

I am grateful when Claire only wakes up once in the middle of the night.  I am grateful when she sleeps in past 5.  I am grateful when she plays happily on the floor while I get dressed.  I am grateful when I get tasks accomplished at work and can go home with a clear brain.  I am grateful for the 4 hours I get with Claire in the afternoons before she conks out at 7.  I am grateful that I get my family fed, cleaned up and to bed every night without major incident or trauma.

And after all of that?  I have no time for stupid baby books.  Maybe I'll finish it when she goes to college.  The baby book can bite me.

2.  I'm going to make cookies tonight.  M&M cookies.  All that recall talk has my brain thinking, "cooookayyyys."  And yes, I WILL be eating some of the batter.  I'm dangerous like that.

3.  My mother in law regularly sends me various flavors of LUSH bath bombs and I love her so very much for this.  Before I had a baby I was not a bath person.  Sure, I enjoyed a bath every once in a while but I was by no means A Bath Kind Of Girl.

I am now.  And I REALLY AM now that I know about LUSH bath bombs and they keep showing up for free.  There is something fantastic about sitting in a steamy, yummy smelling room with the door closed and having some personal quiet time that relaxes me completely.

(Also, doing squats with my new 20 pound free weight makes my knees and back hurt sometimes and hot water is nice for that.)

Last time she sent a Vanilla Fountain.  LOVE.

4. Claire is crawling.  Quickly.  She is so fast it makes my heart skip a beat.  She is pulling up on everything in sight and suddenly my home is a giant death trap full of poison. 

I look at her and she's not a baby any more.  They moved her to the Toddler room at day care.  Every day when I check her in it says, "Claire/Toddler."  Every day I look at it and think they have made a mistake.  My baby is not a toddler!

5.  Who does North Korea think they are anyway?  Do they really think they're going to come out on top if they start sending missiles to Hawaii?  How do they see that situation ending favorably??  I truly don't think they've thought this one through.  They have only a few maybe-functioning missiles and we have...A LOT MORE THAN THAT.

6.  The Jonas Brothers live like, 5 miles from me and I keep expecting to see them at the grocery store since they are playing a concert tonight in town.  I've been looking for them at Starbucks, at restaurants, at shops and at stoplights.  All week I've been ready with my iPhone to snap a picture.  And no Jonas Brothers.  It would appear that my potential brush with celebrity this week is a bust.

7.  I am so lame I am posting this on Saturday.  Again.