My Coffee Fear

For those of you who have ever smoked, did you ever have a friend quit smoking and you thought, "oh no there goes another one"?* I have those thoughts when someone I know quits caffeine. (You know who you are.... BUB....)

Despite living in Seattle, I seem to have a disproportionate number of friends who don't drink coffee. Sometimes I fear that coffee will go the same direction as cigarettes, and I'll be relegated to the "coffee drinking area", outside in the cold dark wind, huddling in my parka and nursing my coffee, either alone, or with the few other holdouts. We sit and reminisce about the good old days when men, women, and heck sometimes even children drank coffee, and no one thought anything of it! No one ever gave you a dirty look when you ordered a double tall latte. No one questioned your moral fortitude, etc. Sigh..... where are all my coffee drinking friends?

*PS I'm not advocating smoking I was just making an analogy!!

Book Review: The Going to Bed Book

The Tuff is now at the age where he wants us to read him the same book over and over again. I'm very happy that he's now looking at the book, rather than trying to eat it, slam it shut, or throw it. So this is a good thing. But I feel compelled to discuss one thing that really bothers me about his favorite book.

You parents out there are probably familiar with this Sandra Boynton classic, "The Going to Bed Book". I know it is supposed to be a silly book so I won't ask about why these 10 random animals are living on this boat. Or why they all take a bath together. But here's what bugs me:

They take a bath, get their PJs on, brush their teeth, and THEN they go exercise?! Does this drive anyone else crazy? I mean a) don't exercise right before bed, because you're going to be all energized and you won't be able to sleep, and b) don't get all sweaty right after your bath, especially in your PJs!

Two Working Moms Walk into a Bar...

... and that's the whole joke, because two working moms would never have time to go to a bar!

Yet sometimes I try to do something almost as ridiculous. I have a friend who had her daughter last summer and then went back to work in the fall. (She works at the university so we can both use the campus gym.) We are "surfing friends", and by that I mean we both used to like to surf, but since we've met each other we haven't been able to go surfing together.

Last quarter we decided that we would try to go swimming once a week. Ha! Guess how many times that happened? 1.5. We swam together once, and the next week she was late so our swim overlapped by about 5 minutes - so I'll count that as 1/2. I swam a 3rd time by myself and then I got too busy (and broke my nose!) and didn't exercise again for the rest of the quarter.

So far this quarter I have swam once (by myself). But we keep trying... I don't want to spend a lot of time at the gym, since I already feel guilty for leaving my little bundle of cuteness at daycare all day, but I feel like one hour a week isn't really asking tooooo much, right?

PS. I was doing my econometrics homework (finished now, 2.5 hours before class, BOOM!) and I just found out today that the word "collinear" is spelled with two l's. Why? Two points sharing a line, I feel like it should be co-linear, or colinear. Why the second l? Dislike!! :(

Awkward Pumping Moments

You are probably asking yourself, what could possible be awkward about wearing a sports bra with two holes cut out of it, out of which are protruding plastic flanges with bottles below them which are catching some sort of liquid, and those are attached to a machine that makes a noise that is a cross between Darth Vader breathing and a life-support machine for a coma patient?

And the answer is nothing.... as long as no one sees you.

So, the room that I pump in has two doors - an outer door which requires a key code, and then an inner door which you can close and adorn with a sign that says "occupied." Well, I used to close the inner door but I stopped doing it because the only people who come into that room are other pumping moms, and I figured if one of them ever comes early for her shift I might as well just let her in, cause who cares, right?

Well a couple weeks ago, I was pumping and I heard the door open. I figure it's one of my fellow mom-warriors, so I turn around and say hello. And... it's a man! Er, more like boy. I'd say he was an undergrad. He froze, mouth open, and then said, "the mail room is.... not here!" and turned around and ran out.

I felt bad for the kid, I think it was actually more awkward for him than for me. Once you've given birth to a baby you pretty much don't care who sees what anymore. BTW it took me a while to notice this, but it turns out that the "mail room" is actually a metal shelf in the area between the two doors...who knew? I didn't realize because it's usually empty. So, from now on I keep the door closed!

The "It's Not Worth It" Dinner

AOC is on vacation with her 2 kids right now, and reading her blog I am 100% in agreement with her.... a "vacation" with your kids is not a vacation. Er, I'll rephrase: you must redefine the word "vacation" to mean "out of town", rather than "relaxing, catching up on sleep, reading, doing anything that you would like to do for yourself, etc.".

Anyway, this reminds me of how last Friday DH and I decided to go to our favorite hamburger place for dinner. For some reason, after almost 11 months of motherhood, I still get a little bit excited when we reach Friday. (Not as excited as Rebecca Black, but ya know, kind of excited.) Why?? Well, I guess for 30 years of my life, "Friday" meant "Time to kick back and relax a little bit". Old habits die so, so, so hard.

So, in my excited Friday haze, I said, "hey I'm tired of cooking, let's go to Counter Burger!" And DH, who also apparently still forgets he's a dad sometimes said, "yeah sounds great!"

We drive there, thinking well it's time for the Tuff's second nap right now (yep he takes his second nap at 5:15pm, whatever, I am not a bad parent). So surely he will fall asleep in the gently swaying van, only to awaken in about 30-45 minutes, as per usual, and then we will enjoy a relaxing dinner.

Instead, he was tired so he screamed most of the way there, only pacified by me singing Banana Phone at the top of my lungs over and over again, and sure enough he did not fall asleep. But we're already making stupid mistakes, let's intensify them by going into the restaurant!

I manage to quickly order some sweet potato fries while the Tuff refuses to sit in his highchair and decides to use me as a jungle gym, thereby making it impossible for me to look at the menu. Then we get about 5 minutes of peace while Tuff enjoys a few bites of fries.

Then, he pees his diaper and it soaks through his pants. I go change him, and he screams the whole time. (He hates changing tables. I should really bring a little pillow for his head or something, I suspect those things are uncomfortable.) I OF COURSE didn't bring a change of clothes, so I bring him back out to the restaurant with no pants on. The lady sitting next to us has two kids so she kindly offers me a pair of pants. (I decline, but it was a nice offer. And yeah, nothing makes you feel like a stellar mom like having a stranger offer your child a pair of pants.)

Our food comes and DH wolfs down his burger so that he can hold the now very upset and over-tired baby while I eat. I get through half of my cold burger before the Tuff's screaming escalates so much that we decide to leave. I dont' even want to waste time asking for a box so I grab the burger and wrap it in a napkin and we escape.

Next time I *think* I'm tired of cooking I will re-read this post, and remind myself: Self, you are not tired of cooking. You love cooking because it is a BLESSING to be able to eat reasonably tasty food in your own home. In private. Don't be stupid. Don't go out to eat. It is never worth it. And if you really, really can't cook, ORDER SOME PIZZA.

An Economist's Anniversary

Tomorrow is my 2-year anniversary with DH! Do you think it would be too unromantic/morbid if I wrote him a card that said:

"To min(T1, T2)-2 more wonderful years!"

Heh heh. JK I will not do that. And if I really felt the need to model our relationship in discrete time, I would be sure to use an infinite time horizon.

And.... I'm off to bed. Here's hoping we get enough sleep to enjoy our day off tomorrow! Happy MLK day to everyone, and happy anniversary to me & DH!

Singing Baby Songs

Sad: Sining the (not very musically creative) theme song to "Baby Signing Time" to yourself while cooking dinner

Sadder: DH joining in and singing it along with me

Saddest: Our baby was not even in the room.