Thursday, November 30, 2006

Why was this so much fun for me?

Our little Texan is not a big fan of snow.

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And because it is only noon and I am SO BORED. Can someone come pick me up in their snowplow and take me to the coffee shop?

It's WINTER! Who knew?

So they said we had a 20% chance of flurries last night. And then it kept changing to 30% and then 60% and then 90%/Snow Advisory/1-3 inches of accumulation. And, well look.

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And it's still snowing. It's pretty! And since I won't be leaving the house (Ryan has forbidden it. AFTER he drove all the way to work.), I'm still in my bathrobe. And I haven't had a shower. Unfortunately not leaving the house also means I have to make my own coffee. And I won't get to enjoy the baby-soothing benefits of rides in the car. The carseat has magical qualities.

Charlie doesn't seem phased by the snow.

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Charlie says "It's good to be a gangsta."

I want to take him out in his full body fleece coat thing to take some pictures, but then I would have to put on pants and maybe even take off my cozy bathrobe. Meh.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Something is wrong with me

Clearly, the rational part of my brain was delivered with the baby. Ryan called today from work to tell me he stopped by the church where Charlie will be staying three days a week during the day so I can go back to school (THREE FREAKING DAYS). As he described how nice the room looked and how there are only three babies per teacher and how they are certified by the state I could not stop crying. In fact, I can barely even tell you about it. In every other area I am still my old cynical self (like changing the station whenever that damn Christmas Shoes song comes on the radio and getting more worked up over a Tech first down than well pretty much anything that is supposed to make normal people feel all warm and fuzzy. Except for patriotic music on the Fourth of July and the part where the veterans stand up when they play their song? Yeah, don't get me started).

It will be great for him. He'll make tiny friends and learn things from his teachers and all that (and get all his major infections before he reaches one year old. Poor sweet innocent little baby what is your mama doing to you?). I love the idea that he'll be a little independent (forget who I am) and have some new experiences (hang around with the wrong crowd of no good hoodlum babies who will introduce him to cigarettes). It's just the thought of dropping him off with strangers and then walking out and going to work that is a little terrifying. Please leave supportive comments.

So I figured the best possible way to handle the stress the mere thought of taking Charlie to childcare (part time three days a week oh my gosh what the heck is the matter with me snap out of it!) was to drink a Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks and eat a giant chocolate chip cookie. Charlie got lots of compliments at Starbucks because he was fast asleep in his stroller (mostly because of the bumpy sidewalk outside but also because he is a perfect little baby [who turns me into a sappy pile of mush. but at least not a pile of mush covered in breastmilk anymore woo hoo!]). [And no, I am not cheating on the coffee shop because I had a gift card from my sister who is the manager of a Starbucks so it totally doesn't count plus the coffee shop is far away and not right next to the grocery store] Mmm, I am enjoying my Peppermint Mocha. On a completely unrelated note, I've decided that post-pregnancy "curves" are sexy and should be cultivated.

Finally, Growey McEats-A-Lot has outgrown the Christening outfit I found for him. Sigh, back to the drawing board.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Things that are annoying (and not annoying)

#1 Target Online Photolab
Not only do they not have their own website (and make you sign up for Yahoo Photos), they don't offer 3.5 x 5 inch prints. So my really awesome Christmas card idea will be more difficult because the cards I bought and pre-addressed are too small for a 4x6. Our solution is to use a less perfect picture of Charlie that Ryan will then hand crop using a paper cutter at school. Also, the nice new Target by our house is not on the list of available stores for pickup, which means I have to go to the old Target on the other side of town. The Target where you almost die trying to enter the parking lot because you have to cross three lanes of traffic instantaneously after getting off the freeway. Get ready for a vocabulary lesson Mr. Charlie.

#2 Dumb Sidewalks
Charlie and I went for an hour-long walk today. (Yeah, it was AWESOME. The weather was perfect and he slept the whole time and I wasn't sitting on the couch watching "Christina's Court") The only problem, and I've never noticed this before, is that the sidewalks in my neighborhood don't have ramps at the corners. So every time I got to an alley (about every 50 feet when going N or S) or the end of a block I had to lower the stroller off the curb then pick it up again on the other side. Fortunately this didn't phase Charlie who slept the whole time and is STILL sleeping in his stroller now. Yay!

Things that are not annoying? Lansinoh disposable nursing pads (aka diapers for your boobs). No more dripping! I even took the towels out of my bed. My quality of life (like leaving the house without "bullseyes" on my shirts and not smelling like spoiled milk all the time) is about to improve considerably. I am so excited.

Also not annoying? I live in a town where in one week you can have highs in the 70s, thunderstorms with hail, highs in the 30s, and a chance of "wintery mix".

Monday, November 27, 2006

Covenant Women's Spa-spital

Today Charlie and I went back to the hospital for a weight check (Charlie was weighed, not me). I felt like saying "He's a newborn, I promise!" when I saw the other (tiny, bald) babies there. Charlie now weighs 10 lb 7 oz up from his birthweight of 8 lb 10 oz. When they weighed him the nurse exclaimed "Ooh! This one's eating REALLY well!" As usual he showed his distaste for public nudity by peeing and spitting up on the scale. Other than that he was a little sweetheart and slept in his stroller while I talked to the nurses about my, um, nursing issues (am I going to be sleeping on towels forever? Are they supposed to get so full? Why the hell do they hurt so bad?).

Anyway, being at the hospital today and visiting a friend there last week made me realize how much I would like to move back in on a long term basis. Where else do you have babysitting, food, drinks, and fancy prescription pain medication available at the push of a button? Where else do they require nothing of you but sitting in bed and admiring your baby? Why did the food have to be so darn good?? I even had cable and a lake view! Home is nice, but a lot more work. No matter how many times I hit my alarm clock, no disembodied voice fills the room asking what I need. Sigh. We still have Charlie's little hat and shirt that he wore there. Maybe we can sneak back in. They wouldn't notice the giant baby in the nursery right?

Right now he is in his bouncer trying not to fall asleep. It's really fun to watch. He keeps kicking his legs as his eyelids get heavier and heavier and letting out just one tiny quiet "waa" at a time. He should be asleep soon. Then it's time to clean up around here a little because...ew.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Well I knew the day was coming...

Today Charlie and I ventured out so I could buy some jeans. I loaded a few pairs on top of him in the stroller and went into the dressing room. I wriggled into the first pair, zipped them up (feat of incredible strength), turned around to see how they looked in the mirror, and that's when I saw it. I am officially that girl who leaves the house with a giant spitup stain on her shirt. It added a nice symmetry to the stain left by my constantly leaking right boob.

Anyway, I found some jeans that go on and zip, but it's not the best I have ever looked in a pair of pants. Jeans are a cruel reality check for someone like me who has spent the last 2.5 weeks admiring myself in the mirror thinking "DANG that belly went away FAST I wouldn't be surprised if I actually wear a size SMALLER now." It's easy to think that way when you are not pregnant but continuing to wear maternity pants. Besides, it's not the belly that's the problem, it's my legs and butt and other body parts that have absolutely nothing to do with nurturing a fetus and that only got huge because I couldn't keep my hands off the cookies.

Anyway, I have to go because the baby is awake. Ryan-the-best-husband-there-has-ever-been is on his way home and is bringing me Caffiene to stave off my withdrawl headache. My sister and brother-in-law and parents are on their way here too. I also have to make brownies to cover up the breastmilk/poo/sweaty dog/mystery-garage-smell smell we have going on up in here.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Girls! Girls! Girls!

Since today would be the first time Charlie and I met my new best kid-having hippy friends at La Leche League, I wanted to make a good impression. I gave Charlie a bath, put him in his cute frog diaper cover and a sweet blue sleeper, put on a nice skirt and sandals (wanted to fit the part of the hippy La Leche League stay-at-home-mom), and left early so I could be sure to get there on time. I even remembered to write down the address and room number and take it with me. I was the picture of organization and inner poise.

Well about halfway over there a whole lot of "La Leche" started soaking through my shirt and all that inner poise went right out the window. First, I made a wrong turn (how? How how how? The meeting was at a church I attended for OVER A YEAR). Then when I arrived at the church and parked at the west end of the building (as instructed) I found the door locked. I struggled getting Charlie into the sling (had to be the sling because my new attachment parenting hippy friends would frown on Charlie being confined in a car seat plus it covered one boob, not the one with the most noticable wet mark, but better than nothing) because it was windy and my skirt was blowing around my head and I was flustered because I was late and gosh isn't it great that kids don't start repeating the things you say until they're a little older? So with Charlie nestled into the sling in a very uncomfortable looking position I set about finding an unlocked door. I finally found one about nine miles away from my car and went inside where Charlie suddenly realized just how uncomfortable he was and began protesting loudly. I dropped my handbag, pulled him out of the sling, wrapped him in a blanket, then did a deep kneebend to retrieve my handbag and went looking for the classroom. The classroom was pretty much just opposite the locked door from my car.

Everyone there was SO nice. And they all loved Charlie. There was another small baby there (who had the same rocker hair as Charlie) and several other kids and toddlers running around and eating pieces of fruit (organic, free-range fruit I'm sure) while the mamas talked breastfeeding (and breastfed their babies, I was disappointed Charlie had just been fed because I could have joined in). We broke into small discussion groups and I was paired with the other lady with the newborn. When the leader came over to ask us how we were doing I noticed that the other newborn mama spoke in the same kind of crazed "I'm laughing and smiling so much because if I don't I'm going to start crying again." tone that I have been using off and on since Charlie was born.

Charlie was perfect. He slept the whole time in the blanket my friend S made him and I was so proud of him (he was most certainly the cutest baby there). Everyone told me I was doing a great job because he was gaining so much weight and gave me some tips for preventing pain. They learned our names and praised Charlie's new chubbiness. They even invited me to their holiday pot luck dinner. I like my new friends. Please don't tell them that Charlie is currently sleeping in his car seat. Or that we have a crib for him to sleep in at night. Or that we eat red meat.

Monday, November 20, 2006

The official Christmas stocking arrives!!

Charlie's Christmas stocking came in the mail today. My aunt, B, has been making them for every new family member since before I was born. I used to help my mom make the decorations with felt and sequins occasionally as a kid. This year we had two additions, Charlie and my brother-in-law, N. Now they are both official family members. I am SO excited. Thank you, B!!!!!

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You made me sad.

If anyone else has any comments to make about my academic progress, I have only one thing to say to you:

Bouncer Boy

He is so much better and more important than any degree could HOPE to be. But I am going to finish just to spite you.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Why not, we're the parents right?

We were very poor examples for Charlie this morning. It started when we slept too late to go to church (which starts at 11 did I mention?). That couldn't really be avoided because Charlie was feeling extra chipper and alert between three and nine in the morning and needed help with his Calculus lessons, so we were tired. Since church was out, Ryan and I took Charlie to Sonic for brunch. I had the breakfast toaster sandwich and Ryan had the Super Sonic BreakFeast Burrito and we both got large caffienated beverages (Ryan Dr. Pepper and me tea). We sat in the car as a little family for about an hour enjoying our brunch and listening to songs on the iPod. We've started developing Charlie's ear for the classics. He is developing a taste for Van Morrison, The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, Willie Nelson, and Johnny Cash (and Greenday and Kanye West and Flogging Molly). After we finished our sandwiches, I said "Want to get an ice cream cone?" To my surprise Ryan shrugged and said "Sure!" and started burrowing through the cupholders for change. I said "Why not, we're the parents now!!" And shoot, it was noon somewhere! Man it was great. I realized last night that Ryan and I were making an effort to be extra polite to eachother, which is good, but I really missed the ease of our pre-child relationship. Turns out it's still there, just covered by a layer of fatigue and breastmilk.

[Which, I'd like to thank C from La Leche League who I spoke to on Friday and who told me that some babies can nurse lying down (her kids learned to do it at 3 and 6 weeks, Charlie's advanced like that). Greatest trick EVER. Not only did it NOT HURT for some reason, Charlie took to it like a duck to water. That kid could nurse standing on his head. He does not care how the food gets to him, he just wants FOOD and he will suck on anything (arm, neck, wrong part of boob) to get it (I have a nice hicky from this. Ryan's jealous.). Anyway, C from La Leche League? Be expecting an awkward gift of wine and chocolate from me at the next meeting. Signed, SoreNips224.]

This week is Thanksgiving! Charlie's first holiday (except Veteran's Day and Election Day)! I can't wait to teach him all about the Mayflower and Plymouth Rock and the Pilgrims and Indians and the hard winter and the stuffing and pie and turkey and mashed potatoes and pie and green bean casserole and pie. (Did anyone watch that Food Network show where they used leftover green bean casserole to make a fancy meal with portabello mushrooms? Becaaaauuuussseee...obviously that woman has never experienced the exquisite joy of eating cold green bean casserole out of the tupperware standing up by the open refrigerator door in your undies in the middle of the night.) Anyone know where I can find a secondhand Pilgrim costume (including shoes with buckles preferably) in size 0-3 Mo?

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I am a ball of raw emotion...

Charlie is asleep, peacefully, in his crib. He's actually asleep, he's not red or grunting or squirming or making adorable seagull noises like he was when I said enough is enough this morning and put him in his crib so I could take a shower (new house rule: If you cover my entire abdomen and forearms with breast milk you do not also get to prevent me from cleaning it off). I worked hard to get him to sleep in his crib so I could get some things done around the house. And now I miss him. A lot. I want him to wake up and play with me (even though the only game he knows is "I'm going to scream and you guess why"). I did get a lot done though. I did a load of laundry and straightened up the living room (we have a professor and his wife coming over tonight to bring us dinner, the least I could do was make a neat pile of the twenty-seven burp cloths adorning the floor of our family room). I can't wait until Ryan comes home so I can show him how calm I am! Oops, not asleep anymore.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Does anyone else find it troubling that I don't know what the heck I'm doing?

Charlie is asleep. Finally. After an entire morning of making up goofy songs, dancing around with him, and trying to get him to take a pacifier, it was a freaking wet diaper. And now he is sleeping after half of a feeding because after all that squirming around and crying he was way too exhausted to keep eating after the first side. I'm not sure what the half a feeding thing means for my afternoon, but I don't think I'm going to get to go show him off at the coffee shop like I had planned. Which is no problem because I have tons of yummy leftovers here and a new Glamour magazine to read. And a shower would be really super. I'll try to post some new pictures sometime soon too.

Cloth diaper hippie baby

Monday, November 13, 2006

Drip Drip Drip


Post Partum Fun
Originally uploaded by ryanandbecca.
Just when you think you're body is getting back to normal (see photo of me wearing a size MEDIUM shirt), your girls go crazy. I don't think this part is supposed to last for too much longer (I hope), but it sure is hard to get used to. I have figured out that all it takes is for me to LOOK at the baby for things to get going. He doesn't even have to be awake. It's bizarre.

Charlie is doing really really well. He sleeps a lot and is quiet when he is awake. He wakes up to eat at night and then goes back to sleep. We've been so lucky. He is still has the coolest hair ever.

On Sunday we took Charlie to church. We sat in the very back just in case, but he slept peacefully the whole time even through all the standing and sitting and singing and congregational responses. He made lots of new friends (look with your EYES don't you know it's cold and flu season! Oh gosh listen to me) and several of our friends and one of the pastors came up to meet him while we were there. After the service he got a little antsy so I took him to the nursing room to give him lunch.

I know what you came for is baby pictures and if you click on the word "ryanandbecca" below the goofy picture of me you will go to my Flickr site where there are new baby pictures. Enjoy!

Tuesday, November 7, 2006

Greetings from Post-Partum Fun Town

Despite the sarcastic title to this post we are really having a nice time together as a family. Charlie is eating really well and I am feeling great. And with my parents here and Ryan home from work, this house is running more smoothly than it ever has. We haven't run out of clean plates or cereal bowls once and no one has eaten leftover frosting for lunch yet.

Yesterday we took Charlie to the pediatrician for his weight and color check. After we checked in they told us to strip him down to his diaper and wait in the waiting room. We ended up waiting for a long time (fortunately we brought Charlie a blanket, he hates being naked. Hates it.) and Charlie slept like a little angel the whole time. I smiled proudly as other parents smiled when the saw him.

Finally the nurse called us back for his checkup. She called "Charles" and it took me a minute to figure out they were calling for us. To give you a clear picture of my mental state during this visit, you should know that I am still on Codine and it was almost lunch time and I was awake only by the grace of the two cups of coffee I'd had that morning. Even checking in was a huge challenge. Questions confuse me. And there were a lot of them. Hard ones like "Baby's name and birthdate?"

As we walked down the hall to the weighing room, Ryan the proud Papa strutting along with his son in his arms, me limping down the hall clutching my handbag and Charlie's carseat, diaper bag, sleeper suit, and sweatshirt, the nurse asked more hard questions like "How many dirty and wet diapers do you change each day?" and "How many times does he eat a day?" and "How are you feeling?" By the time I got to the weighing room I was totally flustered and unable to think. More hard questions "What color is his stool?" Ryan's been changing the diapers. I have no idea. Ryan answered "Um, kinda dark, I guess?" "Dark like what? Is it yellow?" Me: "I HAVE NO IDEA WE'VE BEEN OUT OF THE HOSPITAL FOR A DAY AND A HALF AND THIS IS ALL JUST A LITTLE BIT NEW TO ME WOULD YOU PLEASE JUST LEAVE US THE F$%# ALONE?"

Actually I didn't get to say that because Charlie interruped us all by peeing on the scale when they took his diaper off. And then pooping. And then spitting up. It was awesome. Ryan said "THAT is what color his stool is." That was awesom-er. If I wasn't so mortified I would have high-fived him and said "Boo-yeah!!"

After the weigh-in was over we had to move him to another scale in the tiny room to clean him up and put his diaper back on. Ryan tried to stay calm and quickly take care of the diaper while I stood wedged into a corner behind the scale searching for things in the diaper bag and trying not to act out in exhausted frustration as the nurses brought a steady stream of sullen looking teenagers into the room (which seriously was about six feet square and contained two large infant scales, a sink, and another scale for bigger kids and adults not to mention about five fully grown adults and one very angry four day old baby) to be weighed. Charlie helped his mama by screaming in protest the whole time. Oh my gosh we have to go back there tomorrow for another check-up.

None of this matters of course because Charlie is the cutest, sweetest thing in the whole world. When he finishes eating and burping he goes to sleep on my chest and I could sit there for hours and hours and never move no matter what. When he is waking up he makes sweet squeaking noises and opens his eyes one at a time. When Ryan hands him to me he immediately turns toward me and tries to nurse. He's keeping his eyes open for longer now and seems to be focusing on things like faces when they are close enough. If you haven't met him yet, I can't wait to introduce him to you.

Sunday, November 5, 2006

We're Home!!


He likes the bouncer. A lot.
Originally uploaded by ryanandbecca.
Thanks everyone for the nice phone calls and emails and blog comments you've sent to us. We are so lucky to have such a nice community of family and friends around us. Everything went really well at the hospital and Charlie is doing great. People have been asking about how it went, so I'll go into as much detail as I can now (before the little guy gets hungry again).

On Wednesday night we went to the hospital at 10:45 to start the induction. They put us in a delivery room and had us fill out a bunch of forms and gave me lots of hospital bracelets. I had five. I don't know what they were all for. They also hooked me up to a fetal monitor, contraction monitor, blood pressure cuff, pulse-oxygen sensor, and IV. I was basically confined to the bed at this point because of all the equipment. We spent the night there, me in the bed on all the monitoring equipment and Ryan on this futon thing they put in the room for the dads to use. After this point, the times get a little fuzzy. There was a lot going on and I spent a lot of time on Codine. So when I say something happened at 7:00, it might have been 5:30 or 8:00. Who knows. Anyway, at "7:00" my doctor came in to check me, break my water, and start the IV with the horomone that would start the contractions. I started getting really uncomfortable after that point because the contractions started to get painful. Dr. O said I should get on the epidural list right then because sometimes it could take a really long time. I wasn't too uncomfortable at that point, but it sounded like good advice, so I went ahead and put myself on the list (good advice. GOOD). By the time the anesthesiologist arrived about an hour and a half later I was VERY uncomfortable and very happy to see him. The contractions were about a minute apart and Ryan furiously rubbed my back through each one, but I was miserable. Later, when I knew how fast the labor progressed, it made sense that the contractions hurt so bad, but at that point I could only think that we'd only been at this for an hour or so and already they were nearly unbearable. So when the doctor came in to do my epidural I was very relieved. The epidural itself was painful, but TOTALLY worth it. I had to sit on the edge of the bed with my feet on a stool. Ryan held my shoulders and I held onto my feet tightly. I've never thought of my spine as a good place for a shot since they usually do it somewhere fleshy like your arm or hip and no matter how weird I looked pregnant, my spine never became "fleshy". Anyway, once it was in it would take about 30 minutes to work so I held onto a cold wet washcloth and Ryan's hand and we worked through each one. Ryan watched the monitor and told me when each contraction was peaking so I could relax. Finally the epidural was starting to make a difference in the way I felt and we decided Ryan should run out for something to eat because he hadn't eaten all day and things were going to get crazy later. After he left I called some friends and watched a little TV. The nurse came in and asked how I was feeling. I said "The epidural is working great every except my bottom. There I feel strong pressure every time I have a contraction" She said "OK I'm going to check you, then to see how far you've come." After the exam she looked at me and said "The pressure you feel, is it kind of like you need to poop?" I said "Yes, that's it exactly!" She said "OK, well all I can feel when I examine you is the baby's hair. I think you're fully dilated and ready to push." She went and got the doctor and they had me lay on my right side to get him to come down a little further and then the nurses transformed the room into delivery mode. Tables were covered with blue drapes, the infant warmer table was set up, instruments were arranged on tables. Someone asked where Ryan was and fortunately they said I could wait until he came back. When Ryan came back he was very surprised to see the room the way it was. I told him it was time to push and about ten minutes later we got started. I think by this point it was around 11:00 am. I was to push three times during each contraction. About halfway through, Charlie's heartbeat started dropping every time I had a contraction, so they gave me oxygen and set up the vacuum extractor to help gently pull him out. A few more pushes with the extractor and he was born. Dr. O put him on my belly and said "Here's your twelve pound baby!" He was perfect. He cried and cried and cried the whole time they were cleaning him up and checking him over and weighing him. When they were finally all done and out of the room I got to feed him and only then did he quiet down. He already knew how to eat!! So cool! Soon Ryan had to take him to the nursery for more checking and his first bath. He was so proud to carry him down the hall that he introduced Charlie to each of the nurses at the nursing station and everyone he met in the hall. When Ryan came back we uploaded pictures and updated blogs and sent emails and called everyone we knew. Since the labor was so short and the epidural was still working I felt AWESOME. Except for the whole legs not working thing I (felt like I could have) walked right out of the hospital and gone home to finish my dissertation. Eventually they came and took me to my post partum room in a wheelchair (getting into the wheel chair with sensation in only one leg required three people). Our post partum room was really nice with a comfy bed and a view of a lake. The brought me a lunch of a grilled cheese sandwich, fries, and chocolate cake (I know! It's like they'd met me before). The food was really good at the hospital by the way. Finally they brought Charlie in from the nursery and Ryan and I sat side by side in my bed and stared at him. He is SO COOL. Alright. This is getting a little long, so I'll write more in a couple of days about the post partum days and going home. Thanks again for all the good wishes and support!

Thursday, November 2, 2006

Welcome Charles Hamilton!


DSC01940
Originally uploaded by ryanandbecca.
More pics at www.flickr.com/photos/ryanandbecca .

8 lb 10 oz

11:55 AM

November 2, 2006

Wednesday, November 1, 2006

Wasn't gonna post today but...

So five minutes ago I had nothing to post about, but since I live in crazy-town all that has changed. Normally I don't open my door for strangers when I'm home alone because invariably it's some nut-job from the Meth Lab Acres Apartment Community down the street wanting to use my phone to call their drug-addicted kid's parole officer (and don't you dare say yes even once because they WILL come back and it WILL be when you are sleeping). So when the doorbell rang I discretely glanced through the window and saw an unfamiliar car and decided not to answer it. Rossby, who goes nuts anytime someone rings the doorbell, made it obvious that I was home by barking wildly and running back and forth from the front door to the window to my hiding place in the kitchen. After about a minute the doorbell rang again. I looked again to make sure it wasn't someone I knew and retreated to the kitchen to hide. That's when the knocking started. It was obvious she was never going to leave and by this point I thought there might be some kind of non-parole officer related emergency so I scooped Rossby up and opened the door.

"I live on the next street over, I haven't been getting my bank statements, have they been coming here?"

"No, sorry" I replied thinking that would be a sufficient answer.

"Well I live on the next street over and I need my bank statements."

"If I see anything I'll be sure to bring it over" I replied.

"Is your last name Sullivan? How long have you lived here?"

"No, it's not, and we've been here about a year."

By this point I was getting really tired of this pointless conversation and was starting to tune out a little because she'd gone back to talking about how bad she needs her bank statements and how frustrated she is and how she's going to change banks if something doesn't change and Bitchy Preggo Becca is about to say "What does any of this have to do with me?" instead of what the Normal Becca was saying: "Uh huh. Yes that's frustrating. You should really call your bank." Then Rossby started freaking out. Thrashing. Wimpering. Everything. Bank statement lady said

"Well I'm sorry to have bothered you"

"No problem, I'll let you know if I see anything." said Normal Becca (still in control thank goodness).

Still holding Rossby I closed and locked the front door and turned around to see a pretty long haired calico cat in my living room. I don't have a cat. Rossby eats cats. Visions of horrific Animal Planet lion on gazelle footage filled my head as I stood stock still by the door still holding a now very excited Rossby. Quickly (faster than I've moved in months) I threw Rossby into the bathroom and closed the door (this was met by much whining and protesting from behind the closed door "Please can I eat the cat? Please? Mom?") I grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck to get him out from under the dining room table but he got away and went even further under the table. Rossby by this time was pounding on the bathroom door and whining with all he had. I paused briefly to wonder if everyone's life is as weird as mine. I couldn't get the cat out from under the table because I pretty much can't even pick up a sock off the floor without a Herculean effort and getting the cat would require squatting and leaning and reaching all at the same time. Finally I got him to go outside by standing on the porch with the door open calling him and shaking my keys. I let Killer out of the bathroom and he has been frantically sniffing the carpet under the table ever since

Wasn't gonna post today but...

So five minutes ago I had nothing to post about, but since I live in crazy-town all that has changed. Normally I don't open my door for strangers when I'm home alone because invariably it's some nut-job from the Meth Lab Acres Apartment Community down the street wanting to use my phone to call their drug-addicted kid's parole officer (and don't you dare say yes even once because they WILL come back and it WILL be when you are sleeping). So when the doorbell rang I discretely glanced through the window and saw an unfamiliar car and decided not to answer it. Rossby, who goes nuts anytime someone rings the doorbell, made it obvious that I was home by barking wildly and running back and forth from the front door to the window to my hiding place in the kitchen. After about a minute the doorbell rang again. I looked again to make sure it wasn't someone I knew and retreated to the kitchen to hide. That's when the knocking started. It was obvious she was never going to leave and by this point I thought there might be some kind of non-parole officer related emergency so I scooped Rossby up and opened the door.

"I live on the next street over, I haven't been getting my bank statements, have they been coming here?"

"No, sorry" I replied thinking that would be a sufficient answer.

"Well I live on the next street over and I need my bank statements."

"If I see anything I'll be sure to bring it over" I replied.

"Is your last name Sullivan? How long have you lived here?"

"No, it's not, and we've been here about a year."

By this point I was getting really tired of this pointless conversation and was starting to tune out a little because she'd gone back to talking about how bad she needs her bank statements and how frustrated she is and how she's going to change banks if something doesn't change and Bitchy Preggo Becca is about to say "What does any of this have to do with me?" instead of what the Normal Becca was saying: "Uh huh. Yes that's frustrating. You should really call your bank." Then Rossby started freaking out. Thrashing. Wimpering. Everything. Bank statement lady said

"Well I'm sorry to have bothered you"

"No problem, I'll let you know if I see anything." said Normal Becca (still in control thank goodness).

Still holding Rossby I closed and locked the front door and turned around to see a pretty long haired calico cat in my living room. I don't have a cat. Rossby eats cats. Visions of horrific Animal Planet lion on gazelle footage filled my head as I stood stock still by the door still holding a now very excited Rossby. Quickly (faster than I've moved in months) I threw Rossby into the bathroom and closed the door (this was met by much whining and protesting from behind the closed door "Please can I eat the cat? Please? Mom?") I grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck to get him out from under the dining room table but he got away and went even further under the table. Rossby by this time was pounding on the bathroom door and whining with all he had. I paused briefly to wonder if everyone's life is as weird as mine. I couldn't get the cat out from under the table because I pretty much can't even pick up a sock off the floor without a Herculean effort and getting the cat would require squatting and leaning and reaching all at the same time. Finally I got him to go outside by standing on the porch with the door open calling him and shaking my keys. I let Killer out of the bathroom and he has been frantically sniffing the carpet under the table ever since