Lousy news


Written on Monday, April 30, 2007 by Jessica

I called my dentist on Friday and made an appointment because of a sore tooth. By the time today rolled around, a different tooth hurt much worse.

The verdict: The original sort tooth is cracked. I need a crown. The even sorer tooth has an abscess. I need a root canal.

So now the good doctor knows where his next boat payment is coming from.

Bad mommy


Written on Monday, April 30, 2007 by Jessica

Seth has been sleeping in our bed because we (still) don't have a crib for him. We just put a pillow against his back, and even though it was near the edge, he's been fine.

I think you know where this story is leading.

We haven't slept with him because I toss and turn too much and Baby's Daddy is afraid of rolling over him. So if you can believe it, we've been sleeping in the guest bedroom.

I know you're wondering why we didn't put Seth in the guest room. First, the mattress in our room is softer than the guest room mattress, so Seth couldn't sit up. This kept him fairly immobile. Second, the our bed is lower. If he fell, he wouldn't fall as far as in the guest room.

Saturday morning he woke up and made a few noises to say, "Come get me, Mommy." When I went in, he was sitting up. Did I think, "Oh my. I'd better be careful or he'll crawl out of bed"? Of course not. I thought, "Oh, my sweet baby boy is so smart." That night he fell out of bed.

Okay, brace yourself for where the bad mommyness gets even worse. We procured a crib Sunday but it's still in 20 pieces, so we put him in our bed on Sunday night, right in the middle instead of so close to the edge. How come Baby's Daddy and I were the only ones without brains enough to guess that he's crawl right out of bed again?

Poor baby. Seth, I'm sorry you have stupid parents.

Ten pounds down


Written on Monday, April 30, 2007 by Jessica

Well, I've lost a total of ten pounds, so I'm happy with my progress. I'm 10% of the way there! (I want to lose roughly a hundred pounds.)



Written on Thursday, April 26, 2007 by Jessica

I'm in a terrible mood today. In a weak moment, I ate some cookies. Four Thin Mints, to be exact. I suppose it was a bit of a victory because I ate only four -- one serving -- and not the entire sleeve.

It totally backfired, though. Now I want cookies more than ever. This always happens. I knew it would happen, but I ate the cookies anyway. How dumb is that?

Whine, whine, whine. I'll be in a better mood tomorrow. I promise.

These people are killing me


Written on Thursday, April 26, 2007 by Jessica

Someone has brought in cookies. And someone else -- I don't know who or I would kill them -- has left a snack-sized Baby Ruth candy bar in the fridge. It's been there for days. Why won't they eat their candy bar??

Have I mentioned that dieting bites?

%$#@! Girl Scouts


Written on Monday, April 23, 2007 by Jessica

The cookies arrived today -- the ones I ordered before I knew I was going on a diet. Two boxes of minty chocolaty goodness are calling out to me.

Maybe in a few weeks I'll be able to eat cookies again, but not yet. Any sugar I have now will just trigger stronger cravings. I refuse to jeopardize my success thus far.

In better news, survived the first week of my diet and lost six pounds. It'd be nice if my weight loss could continue at that pace, but it doesn't work that way.

Mmmm, protein


Written on Saturday, April 21, 2007 by Jessica

Last night I could see that Seth was chewing. Uh, oh. I hadn't fed him anything in awhile. I thrust my fingers into his mouth and retrieved a tiny piece of... something. On closer inspection, I saw that it was a piece of a ladybug. Yum.

Baby's Daddy says Seth's first bug was actually a couple of weeks ago. He snatched one up before Baby's Daddy had a chance to stop him. No surprise when you consider how adept this boy is with Cheerios.

Martha Stewart doesn't live here


Written on Saturday, April 21, 2007 by Jessica

My mother-in-law gets a Good-Housekeeping type magazine called First. I had to laugh when I read one of its recent tips:

You're about to cozy up to your husband in front of the fire when it hits: a painful bout of heartburn. And there aren't any antacids in sight! Simply combine 1 cup of boiling water and 1 tsp. freshly grated gingerroot, then savor with small sips.
Uh, reality check, people. If I don't have something basic like antacids in my home, what on Earth makes you think I have some fresh gingerroot lying around? I'm so domestically impaired that I doubt I have a cheese grater to grate that gingerroot with.

Ode to DivaCup


Written on Friday, April 20, 2007 by Jessica

I updated the DivaCup post with a link to this testimonial, but I've decided it deserved its own post. After all, DivaCup might decide to remove it from its site and then it would be lost forever.

One woman loves her Diva so much she wrote her testimonial in the form of a poem. You heard me -- a poem.

Diva, this is for you:

Because of this Diva I don,
I am no longer a slave to the 'pon
It fills me with glee,
To know that I'm free,
And saving this world we live on.

I go through my day with ease,
There is no string there to tease,
It catches it all,
Before it does fall,
I now live without boundaries.

So now when I go to the John,
There's nothing for me to check on!
And it is so great,
To know that my fate,
Is not in a Kotex nap'kon.

Diva must have come from the gods,
I think they have the best odds,
To have made something great,
That seems so innate,
And all who know share applause!

Clare from Alaska

Not another nursing strike


Written on Wednesday, April 18, 2007 by Jessica

Well, I don't know what to make of this. He stopped nursing Sunday afternoon. He would start to nurse as if he wanted to, but after five seconds or less, he would break latch and start to cry. He wouldn't take a bottle either. I assumed it was his top teeth, which were cutting through.

He's been crying a lot lately, particularly when he wakes up (middle of the night and in the morning) and before he goes to bed. He just doesn't want to nurse. He takes a bottle only once or twice a day, about three ounces at a time.

This morning I asked my in-laws to start giving him breastmilk in a cup with his meals. We got him up to ten ounces of milk today as opposed to just six yesterday. Can you believe it? The kid is drinking breastmilk with a straw.

Just a couple of weeks ago I was worrying about how he would only fall asleep while being nursed or while getting a bottle. Suddenly he's falling asleep without even a pacifier. When I try to nurse him, he cries, but I can't tell if it's because nursing is somehow painful or if it's because he's mad at me for trying to make him nurse.

It doesn't seem possible that he could be weaning so early. Plus, weaning is suppose to be gradual, not sudden -- yet his teeth don't appear to be bothering him anymore, and teething is a common reason for nursing strikes at this age. He's not tugging at his ears, either.

I hope this will pass. I'm not ready for him to wean. No baby is supposed to wean at ten months.

WTF files


Written on Tuesday, April 17, 2007 by Jessica


Are they serious?

The DivaCup... not a tampon... not a pad. Finally a better way! The DivaCup is a leading edge redesign of a proven concept first introduced in the 1930's. Used by women worldwide for decades, it is now available nationwide. The DivaCup offer ultimate freedom enjoy your daily activities including sports such as swimming, as well as traveling with no messy "leaks" or the expense and inconvenience of buying and carrying supplies in all shapes, sizes and absorbencies.

The DivaCup will accommodate your individual and changing flow, neatly collected in the cup. Remove 2-3 times a day, empty and reinsert. The DivaCup can be worn overnight and it will not affect important vaginal moisture, making a perfect alternative or supplement to tampons or pads. The environment and overburdened landfills will benefit from your use of The DivaCup.
UPDATE: You have to read the testimonials. Someone even wrote a poem!

Someone actually says, "First off, I am not a gusher; it's just not an aspect of my personality..." Gusher? Really, dear, you should choose your words more carefully.

Side note: Someone's testimonial does manage to explain how it's not messy.

Survived my first day


Written on Tuesday, April 17, 2007 by Jessica

No Cookie Crisp in my system. No custard long johns, either.

Seth is going to visit me at work today. Grandma and Grandpa are dropping him off at 5:30. Most people are going to be gone, which limits the amount of showing him off I can do. :)

Monkey on my back


Written on Monday, April 16, 2007 by Jessica

I could probably kill for one of those long johns I mentioned earlier. Heck, the Cookie Crisp in the cupboard is calling my name. Check here tomorrow to see if I gave in:

Losing weight


Written on Monday, April 16, 2007 by Jessica

I've decided to commit to losing some weight. Here's my online diet and fitness journal:

Now everyone can see how many vegetables I'm not eating.

If you look closely enough, you'll see that I weigh ... wait for it ... try not to gasp ... 240 pounds. I can't believe I weigh that much. My highest nonpregnant weight ever. Wow. I won't even tell you what size pants I wear. Some people won't give out their weight, but I draw the line at pant size. Okay, 22. I'm wearing a size 22. I don't know how that happened. When I graduated from high school, I weighed 129 pounds and ate junk every single day.

Craving report:
I have a sweet tooth. The cravings aren't too bad yet. Although I'd love to have a custard long john donut and a quart of chocolate milk right now and I'm having trouble concentrating on work.

Lazy post


Written on Monday, April 16, 2007 by Jessica

Received in an e-mail from my cousin Aileen:

A Russian woman married an English gentleman and they lived happily ever after in London. However, the poor lady was not very proficient in English (though she did manage to communicate with her husband).

The real problem arose whenever she had to shop for groceries. One day, she went to the butcher and wanted to buy chicken legs. She didn't know how to put forward her request, so in desperation she clucked like a chicken and lifted up her skirt to show her thighs.

The butcher got the message and gave her the chicken legs. The next day she needed to get chicken breasts. Again, she didn't know how to say it, so she clucked like a chicken and unbuttoned her blouse to show the butcher her breasts! The butcher understood again and gave her some chicken breasts.

The third day, the poor lady needed to buy sausages. Unable to find a way to communicate this, she brought her husband to the store...

(Please scroll down)

What were you thinking?

Hellooooooo, her husband speaks English! Now get back to work.

Authorities: Fifth-graders posted lookout, had sex in class - CNN.com


Written on Monday, April 09, 2007 by Jessica

I meant to post this last week but accidentally saved it as a draft instead of publishing it. It's old news now. I should've just deleted it, I guess.

Authorities: Fifth-graders posted lookout, had sex in class - CNN.com

Five fifth-grade students face criminal charges after authorities said four of them had sex in front of other students in an unsupervised classroom and kept a classmate posted as a lookout for teachers.

The students were arrested Tuesday at the Spearsville school in rural north Louisiana, authorities said. Two 11-year-old girls, a 12-year-old boy and a 13-year old boy were charged with obscenity, a felony. An 11-year-old boy, the alleged lookout, was charged with being an accessory.

Why on earth do they have twelve- and thirteen-year-old students in a fifth grade class? Most fifth graders are ten or eleven years old.

E-mail humor


Written on Thursday, April 05, 2007 by Jessica

The FBI had an opening for an assassin. After all the background checks, interviews, and testing were done, three finalists remained. Two men and a woman.

For the final test, the FBI agents took one of the men to a large metal door and handed him a gun.

"We must know that you will follow your instructions no matter what the circumstances. Inside the room you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Kill her."

The man said, "You can't be serious. I could never shoot my wife."

The agent replied, "Then you're not the right man for this job. Take your wife and go home."

The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet for about five minutes. He came out with tears in his eyes. "I tried, but I can't kill my wife."

The agent said, "You don't have what it takes. Take your wife and go home."

Finally, it was the woman's turn. She was given instructions to kill her husband. She took the gun and went into the room.

Shots were heard, one after another. Then they heard screaming, crashing, and banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the woman. She wiped the sweat from her brow.

"This gun is loaded with blanks," she said. "I had to beat him to death with the chair."

Blizzard warning


Written on Wednesday, April 04, 2007 by Jessica

We're under a blizzard warning today. No sissy "winter storm warnings" for us.