Saturday, October 27, 2012

They Say a Hurricane's a'Brewin'

Friday morning found LMC and I running late to get ready for school when my phone started buzzing. Two text messages later, I see my mother is in a bit of a panic.

Apparently, there is a hurricane headed our way.

I call a friend who confirmed what I knew- Mickey Mouse stays on her television as much as it does on mine. She, too-- clueless about this hurricane business. Mom buzzes in on the other line and starts listing off the things that I need to get today.

Today. This morning. Now. 


After Bits picked up LMC for school, I grabbed my purse and did what my mom said.

I went to the store. Right Then.

Skipping the refrigerator aisle, skipping the freezer aisle, skipping things that need to be cooked, I slowly filled my buggy with Fat-Lady-Apocalypse-Survival "middle section of the grocery store" food. Long after we are gone, those Little Debbie cakes I bought will still be sitting somewhere waiting for archeologists to find them and hypothesize they are demigods wrapped in magical cellophane.

I grabbed water-- two gallons and a large pack of bottled waters. Lots and lots of breakfast foods were stowed as it seems those are the things that don't need to be cooked, refrigerated, and are quasi healthy. Healthy being a relative term.

Toilet paper was on super sale, so I picked up 3 large boxes. It was a good sale- and the idea of surviving a hurricane without TP is like thinking about surviving a snowstorm without mimosas and wine... oh, wait.

Chips, peanut butter, jelly, honey, chocolate chips, M&Ms, drinks, and all those "necessities" that will keep us from being hungry (and thin) are now safely put away in the cleverly organized pantry.

Bits went to Costco this morning and said she was in a three block car line- waiting to get into the parking lot. I recommended aborting, but she said she was getting closer. No report as to how crazy the inside was. I called Harris Teeter as Husband wanted to go pick up something and asked the pharmacy, "Is it a goat rodeo there?" She responded with a chuckle and a, "Is this Mrs. Cagle?" (yes....apparently, I'm the only one in this town that uses the term 'goat rodeo') "Oh, Mrs. Cagle it's pretty damn crazy around here. If it isn't vital, don't."

Husband came home this afternoon and we made a plan. Probably all for nothing, but we have a plan just in case. Husband is packing an extra set of clothes and food as he might end up having to stay at the hospital through Tuesday. He is on call tomorrow and this "big rain storm" should hit Monday.

Did I mention that I am pregnant? And obnoxiously uncomfortable? And sleeping like it's somebody else's business? But napping like it's only my business? If the power goes out, LMC and I will have a staring contest. After, of course, we clean out the cabinets and organize the closets, and teach her how to knit, and alphabetize our DVDs, color every page in our coloring books, and maybe play hide and go seek in the very dark hallways... maybe not. Only then, will we have the promised staring contest.

I'm a champ at losing power in this town. Not a champ at hurricanes, but at power loss- I'm your gal.

Harris Teeter was out of water this morning, as I saw while eating breakfast with LMC. And yet, still plenty of toilet paper and wine. These people do not know how to prepare for a storm.

Friday, October 26, 2012

Things I have learned in the last 18 hours

(1) Apple Cider can and will turn to vinegar.

(2) Apple Cider Vinegar, when given in a very large dose to a 3 year old, will make them throw up.

(2a) A lot.

(3) Before the vinegar will actually trigger the regurgitation, the 3 year old will give you plenty of warnings. Examples include, but are not limited to:
 (a) Telling MOTY that her stomach hurts
 (b) Asking politely (read: begging) to go home
 (c) Not wanting to play with her best pal at dinner
 (d) Crawling out of her chair and resting on MOTY's lap
 (e) Crawling over MOTY and into her father's lap
 (f) According to said father-- writhing in pain, continuing to say her stomach hurt

(4) When a toddler throws up in a Mexican restaurant with a Chinese waitress- they really don't want to clean it up (not that I expected them to)

(5) So much so, that when you ask for a mop... they'll bring it to you.
(5a) You'll have flashbacks of the kitty litter that your elementary school threw on kid yackage.
(5b) You'll gag at the memory, but not the current situation.

(6) Restaurants don't care much for vomit and will ask you just to throw away all the dishes and towels used to catch said Apple Cider Vinegar induced pukes.

(7) Surprisingly though, that Chinese waitress won't be too speedy on the check. Leaving your card with your friends, who also have a toddler and are also pregnant is the best idea.

(8) Said father will say eight times on the way home, "I knew she didn't feel good. She was writhing in pain." He'll say it so many times, in the car smelling like ... well... you know, that MOTY will finally say, "I get it. You knew. But, I didn't. I just assumed she was tired and being whiny. I'm sorry I didn't see it."

(8a) Said father was also covered in apple cider vinegar induced toddler vomit, so maybe I should have cut him a little more slack than the eight times I allowed him to say it before letting him know I had heard him loud and clear. Probably 10. He could have said it 10 times before I said anything.

(9) Apple Cider Vinegar induced stomach aches are short lived- even though they have lasting effects.

(10) Toddlers are resilient.

At least now I know.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Apple Pickin

We went apple pickin' on Monday. The rain held off and three sets of feet ran up and down the farm looking at goats, chickens, cows, and pumpkins. I gave them a lesson on the different types of ducks we saw (mallards and teals were on the docket that day. Thankyouverymuch, Duck Hunter Husband.) LMC told her friends that her Woody has chickens.

After venturing around the farm area, we had lunch and made our way to the major goal of the day--

Picking APPLES! Mama Bits introduced me to my first full apple. And I almost ate the whole thing. Almost. Until I was picking apples and asked her what "that" was. An apple I just picked (and not eaten, thank goodness) had a large bump... that was a worm.

I screamed and threw it. Yes, I totally did. One bite later, I got rid of the yummy apple I was consuming- both my first and last.

LMC had a great time picking apples and hiding amongst the trees with her friends. We learned that Pink Ladies were the best, so those were the only thing we picked.

LMC and JF- who usually knock heads- decided it would be more fun to share, hug and be pals.

I don't like apples. I like apple juice, apple sauce, apple pie, apple cider, apple brown betty, apple bake, apple cobbler, apple pork tenderloin, curried apple soup... but plain ole' apples? Nope. Not for me. Before leaving on our apple adventure, I googled apple recipes. Today (probably more like tomorrow) commences the week of apple cooking. So as not to be wasteful.

I found a little nest for little birds... no eggs, though.

After the apples, LMC and I headed over to the pumpkins. I told her to pick out a pumpkin she could carry and we would buy it.

She started with a green one...

After three of those she moved on to the butternut squash (that looked nothing like the b'nut squash that I am familiar with and much more like a ... um... body part of someone very well endowed and not at all Jewish.  (hence the cropping of the picture below)

Three green pumpkins, two butternut squashes (that she called tay-toes and Husband called something else) and one orange pumpkin, we loaded up our wheelbarrow and headed to the car to stow our treasures before heading out on a hayride.

These three kids, literally, rolled in the hay.

Threw the hay.

Pushed the hay out of the wagon. 

And did all things that all toddlers and kids do in hay-- made a general mess.

These two kids-- they have my heart when they are together. An-Ew, ever the protector, and LMC ever the doter. They are just ... funny...

The hayride took us to the pumpkin patch. We opted not to get out, rather to let the kids continue to make a mess in the hay as we constantly said, "Wait! No throwing the hay..." as they threw the hay.

LMC found her queen's throne at the back of the wagon. A bale of hay made the perfect place for her to hold court.

After growing weary of tossing the hay, hiding under the hay, and making hay stacks... she discovered kicking the hay and dancing in the hay. No music required.

And then she took another roll in the hay...

Before she got hay in her eyes. And discovered why we should not throw hay, or throw hay on Baby J.

After the hay ride, she showed the boys a thing or two about being on a farm. She watered the pigs.

Before the best buds took off on a run and we called it a day.

Apple Pickin' -- Total success!

Saturday, October 6, 2012

10 weeks

10 weeks....

Ten weeks left of twitchy legs, wobbling to sit down on the ground and extruding much effort to get back up again. 
Ten weeks left of going to bed in the hopes of "catching" ten hours of sleep. 
Ten weeks left of tall glasses of milk instead of wine.
Ten weeks left of wearing clothes on the right side of my closet that are a little larger.
Ten weeks left of being okay with weight gain, rather than weight loss. 

Ten weeks until we have a second daughter.
Ten weeks until we count ten fingers....
        ten toes....
                    .... and see two clear blue eyes staring back at us.
Ten weeks until I start juggling two, instead of just the one.
Ten weeks until I go back to the hospital to get under the knife- this time with more anticipated fear, but a hopefully far less fearful experience.
Ten weeks and change until we take our new baby home to her Big Sister, who is already so excited about the new baby.
Ten weeks until we start changing diapers, leaky mother parts, sleepless nights, and all the internal joy that comes with the bodily pain that comes with that precious new baby girl.

Ten weeks!

Oh, ten weeks- I shall fervently count you down as we move closer to having two precious daughters that we will do our very best to raise right. Ten precious weeks left.

Halloween will be here in three weeks. Thanksgiving will come in six weeks- bringing with it my parents on a plane. December will be a welcome addition to the calendar, with the blustery cold and maybe some snow. And then we will bring her home to tuck in her warm bed, shower her with kisses and love.

Just like we did with her sister. Except now, there will be one more to give her kisses and show her love.

All it takes is one thing-- and lots of it. Time.

Monday, October 1, 2012

A great day

Yesterday, Husband made a decision that we needed to pack snacks, a blanket, a pink ball and head to the National Mall. Only so many days are left before it will be too cold to run around outside, he reasoned. The stroller was loaded, the little girl's shoes were on, and off we rode to spend the morning surrounded by history and sunshine.

He chased her and chased her.

As she chased the ball

While I discovered from behind the lens that I no longer had a baby, and no longer a toddler- rather a little lady, growing everyday.

WHO is this child? Where did my baby go? 

But, could a mom be so lucky to have such a lovely little lady as a daughter? 

He chased her some more

She wanted to touch the big pointy thing- "you know, da Washington Mom-u-ment" Husband walked her all the way there and carried her all the way back.

I was unable to catch the third helicopter-- but when there are three, it means the Prez is on his way somewhere. Only in DC!

After riding her Golden Horsey, she ran all the way back to tell Ma-mee about how beautiful her horse was!