Monday, February 27, 2006

And in the "Holy Hell, That Hurts!" Category ...

... Burns.

Burns are, by nature, painful. That is why reasonable people take steps to avoid them. I am, ordinarily, such a reasonable person. But not today.

This evening, while my husband sulked in the playroom (which was my fault for speaking meanly to him, BTW, and had nothing to do with him being a thin-skinned lazy ass) watching the kids cavort;while mother naively twiddled her thumbs and came to share the miniscule news of the day; while Big and Busy reached Olympic heights of auditory assault; while I was holding it all together and making a kick-ass Non-Cream-of-X-Soup-Casserole using leftover pork chops, frozen peas, and the wondrous Tastefully Simple Monterey Cheese Sauce ...

... I picked up the saute pan, fresh out of the 425degF oven, with my non-gloved hand. Do you think it bears mentioning that it was FUCKING HOT?!!

After the immediate shock wore off we did the usual hemming and hawing over whether it warranted a trip to the ER. Let me tell you how glad I am that the Ask-a-Nurse didn't think it was. Our home lab recently changed to Aetna's new "cost saver" plan offered through GIH's compnay. Yeah, we see a little more in each paycheck, but after both girls' annual ped visits with beaucoup vaccinations AND last month's ER trip for Big AND me being a damfool and going for three months of the Nuvaring ... our FSA is nearly wiped out. And it's not even March.

Back to the point. No hospital trip for CMG. (That's supposed to be me; did I get those initials right?) Just an evening of my hand wrapped in a damp towel and the GIH cursing me for keeping that saute pan around, b/c you know everyone has burned themselves on it but himself. That's almost a direct quote. It was almost endearing, the way he went out of his way to be angry at Calphalon rather than at me. We've decided to sue them for millions of dollars for inadequate labeling.

Onthe plus side, I'm told that Big said a nice prayer for Mommy's hand at bedtime. And all these years of motherhood have enabled me to attempt, even accomplish, far more with my left hand than I ever would have dreamed of as a nulliparous woman. I should get a gold medal just for tonight's stellarly sinister teeth-brushing. But Holy Hell ... my right hand hurts!

Monday, February 06, 2006

Sleeping is hard work!

That must be why it so rarely happens for me. It's now 2am. My husband and I turned in around 11pm. During the first hour, I think I dozed a bit before I got up twice to shush the barking dog. Then I dozed a bit more before Busy woke up and fussed. I've become a horrible Ferber parent, preferring to step in early for a brief comforting intervention ... this means I commit the cardinal parenting sin of PICKING MY CHILD UP. (GIH: But I thought we weren't supposed to pick her up?! CMG: Shut it! -- This is the quickest way for me to get back to sleep.) Except that tonight it's not. Fingers are crossed that the latest rocking and cuddling worked -- but NO! I hear the cries again. Why why why why why? (ooh, that word is pretty easy to type repeatedly. Let's try it again: why why why why why?)

With my luck, if and when I ever DO get back to sleep, that will be when Big has a nightmare and cries out for Mommy. (Ah, now Busy cries in earnest. Teething again? Still suffering from the latest cold?) I used to stick to the Ferber plan, except when child was known to be in physical distress. Now I can't tell anymore. What to do, what to do. Putting her down at naptime and bedtime is never a problem. And she doesn't wake up every night. Sometimes she's only fine from 8pm-5am, but most nights (when healthy) she sleeps until nearly 7am.

Dammit, I've been online now for over an hour, and I've exhausted all my interests at this hour. There's nothing going on on the Internet and I just want to go to sleep! Here's what will happen if I go try to wait this out in bed: I'll toss and turn, trying to get comfortable while not allowing GIH to breathe on my face. I have never been able to tolerate anybody breathing on my face, even if I'm not trying to fall asleep. Also, last time I was in there he had an ELBOW on my side of the bed. Yeouch. My feet are cold inside my socks right now and I really want my slippers but I'm not sure where I left them.

This time when I went in to Busy's room, I was "strong" and didn't pick her up. She tried to climb out of the crib into my arms, though. I hugged her, patted her, talked to her gently, made two attempts to lay her down, covered her with a blanket, and left. Now I think she cried for a few minutes (fewer than 5) and has now been mostly quiet again. The baby monitor is lighting up, but that's in response to the music that's playing in the crib (remnants of the mobile.) The real test will come when the 15 minutes of music are up. Meanwhile, I'm so awake right now that I'm going to need another 10 minutes of shut-down time. My crossword puzzles are now all downstairs, and if I go down at this time of night, I will set the dog to barking again.

See what I mean? Sleeping is hard!

Friday, February 03, 2006

Life is complicated. Example:

Last night I got one piece of news that upset me on three different levels. How is that possible? Guess it's all part of being a grown-up.

The news: Friends of mine from church (our youth minister JP and his wife MP, the director of children's music) just accepted positions as counselors at a church camp elsewhere in the state. They'll be leaving by the end of the month.

Level 1: We're losing our friends! I took my one and only Bible class with this couple. They are sweet, kind and giving people, and they bring so much life and energy to our church! MP leads all the children's choirs and Big just adores her. Also she teaches the Kindermusik class that Busy and I are in. Busy just learned to say the name of their 2yo son. We will all miss them a bunch. (Not to mention, MP was going to help me with VBS this summer.)

Level 2: I am chair of our church's staff-parish relations committee. I should have heard this news from official channels, specifically from our senior pastor. Not sure why I didn't. Need to call him today.

Level 3: It's MY committee's responsibility to fill these positions! Ack! So much for having a nice quiet year.

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Further discussion and thought reveals:

Level 4: My GIH reacted to the news by trying to be "helpful" regarding our church's employment policies. You know, because he's such a STELLAR businessman.