jtg

So alright then.

How have I been? I’ve been busy.

Where have I been? I just answered that - I’ve been busy.

Well, why so busy? Let me tell you.

Kid is awake every morning between 4:30 and 5:45am. Guess who else is up then. Yeah, usually me. Nothing I can do about it. Can’t go back to bed, can’t just sleep through it, can’t pawn him off on the husband because he’s got work in three hours and likely didn’t go to bed until after 11:30 last night since I get home late from my evening shift and he waits up for me because he’s a nice guy. So I’ve seen the sunrise through the slits in the blinds on the living room window every morning for months now.

I usually try to go to sleep and nap while the kid plays in the living room, but two things restrict my total relaxation and decent into sleep mode: there are inevitably crumbs of everything we’ve eaten lodged in the lovesac folds that find my skin whenever I move, and things happen when I fall asleep.

One of the things that happens when I’m asleep is sometimes, the kid will poop. This isn’t a problem generally because, you know, diapers. It’s when he gets the proactive urge to learn potty training and takes off his diaper and then forgets he was about to go sit on the potty we have in the living room and instead wanders around pooping (how can you even poop while you walk? I would figure that to be an evolutionary impossibility. is that possible for adults? wait, I don’t really want to know the answer to that.) and then I wake up because in my dream somebody has thrown an old hamburger into the gasmask I’m wearing with my prom dress for some reason and I realize that, wow, that is indeed poop that I’m smelling and wow, how did… wait, I’m not even going to tell you what happened. Just know that poop + laminate floors + cats + roving kid + oh my god did you actually get it on your hands what wait don’t touch that no no no no oh lord stop touching things let me get you into the bath crap don’t touch the showercurtain or my hair = an eventful morning.

Let me talk about diapers for a second. You know why? Because I started my own business, that’s why. If you’re in the Vegas area and are interested in cloth diapers, let me know (jennythegreat at gmail dot com and I’ll send you the website URL). I have inventory I can come show you and explain how everything works and you’d be supporting a good cause (me) (wait, I mean the earth) (and me) (we’re a team, yo) and you’d be saving money hand over fist. I have friend pricing.

Speaking of friend pricing, I’m stressed. You can tell how stressed by how frequently I post blogs and by how lousy my topic segues are. Anyway. I’m stressed because holy moly having a kid is hard work. Sure he plays on his own (and poops a lot). Sure he’s great and cute and awesome and wonderful. But I’m stressed because it is nearly impossible to be horny with a little monkey staring you down holding a sleeve of saltines. I say nearly impossible, but the sliver of window where it is possible exists only when the kid turns around and runs away for a moment before ripping the package open and launching the contents of the package nine hundred feet in the air to scatter all over your floor so that you’re crunching crackers in the middle of the night when you get up to actually have a moment to yourself. Yeah. So that tiny, impossible window of opportunity rarely presents itself, so it’s not likely that I’m getting laid anytime soon. (Sorry for the TMI, Dad)

it’s also really, really hard to write anything. For instance, at this very moment I have the little monkey crying big monkey tears into my lap as he fights my arms to get to my boobs. It’s really, really hard to write like that. The crying is distracting and my arms keep moving so I hit all the woflkdk sllksye sna d then he tries to help me type and we end up wihllkdk hsldlf’sdf

sdf
sf[09s9d
s

cs
dc’sd

lknf

…

He got a boob. I’m going to try to nap while he is occupied. With a boob.

I said boob.

Today would have been my grandpa’s 100th birthday.

Both he and my grandma passed years ago (like more than 10) and I still can’t write anything about them without bawling.

So here are a couple of pictures to celebrate. I’m sorry I’m not more eloquent. It’s hard to type through tears, after all.

Realized I hadn’t posted a Story X-Day here in about a month.

Does anyone really want to read the rest of it? I have 22 more chapters to post and I plan on making that number up to about 30 by the end of April. (Lofty goal, I know.) I have until June-ish to finish it, or mostly finish it.

… I’m two weeks behind in EVERYTHING. I swear, I don’t know how other mom-bloggers manage to write every single day.

The kid’s walking now so that’s keeping me busy. He’s learning things SO FAST that I can’t stop to do anything but teach him and hang out with him and DO STUFF with him. Not that I mind, of course. That’s just my excuse.

Needless to say, I am bloody exhausted on a daily basis. I hope I can get things organized / in good working order soon. It’s coming along, slowly but surely.

365 days ago today, I pushed and I pushed and this little tiny individual came rushing out into the world and into our arms.

He’s been the best thing ever. I can’t even believe how amazing he is.

I wish I had time to write more about him but I wouldn’t trade my time with him for more Internet so the world will have to wait.

Best. Kid. Ever. He’s walking now, by the way.

Chapter 5
(Read more)

The diapers we bought (or received as gifts) when Kiddo was a few weeks old are falling apart. If you figure they’ve lasted almost 12 months being laundered almost every day, that’s really not bad for diapers. We started with 20. Some of them are in worse condition than others, and we’re trying to use those more sparingly, but there are times when we just tuck the torn flaps of cloth back where they should be and fit it on Kiddo the best we can. Those are the days when I’m too lazy or tired to want to wash the others.

I tried making a new diaper using the pattern here: Dianna’s Journal - How to Sew a Fitted Cloth Diaper
After days of fighting with the sewing machine, getting it fixed, fighting with it some more, making the diaper incorrectly, and having Bobbin Cthulhu pay me a visit, I gave up. I thought to myself, “Why don’t you just use your EBay account to save money for a good sewing machine?” Then I thought, “Gosh, why don’t you just buy new diapers with the EBay money and be done with it.” I think I’ll do that.

Now, on a related note, I caught all but one or two times when he peed today. It was really great - if it keeps up, we might not need diapers for anything but the night. Kiddo does know that both pee and poop go in the potty. When I put him on his Baby Bjorn Little Potty, he will use it. He takes off his diaper when he has to go. He gives us a warning before he starts to poop. This EC (Elimination Communication) stuff is really great, I have to say.

Reason #1 for using cloth diapers: No chemicals on my baby’s bum. Just cotton. Kiddo has never had diaper rash.
Reason #2 for using cloth diapers: Cost. Or lack of, rather. Total cost for diapers so far is under $400, including water, detergent, power, and diapers themselves. For a YEAR.
Reason #3 for using cloth diapers: No throwing away a mass of more things to help destroy the environment.

It’s really only a little bit more work than disposables. You bag up the dirties and run a load of laundry when you get home. If you have more than 20, which you’re really supposed to, you can get away with laundry two or three times a week.

I got distracted and forgot where else I was going with this post. It’s almost time for 24 so I’ll edit one of my chapters and post that before I go watch my one hour of TV a week.

It’s been hard to update this in the last week or two. Kid’s walking a lot more, which means I’m really really on alert. I barely get to check email and run my EBay listings. I don’t mind, but I feel so out of touch.

One thing I did get to do was take a gun safety / concealed weapons class. It was a good opportunity and I had eight hours of instruction that helped me out, split over two days (which was how I was able to do it). I don’t have my concealed weapons permit yet, but it’s imminent. Just depends on the money.

There’s a lot going on but it’s so constant that everything I want to post just rolls off the top of the stack in favor of what’s happening at that very moment. Like tonight, I had a whole post written in my head with multiple subjects and when Kiddo started walking towards me to get some tuna, that was all that I could think about.

The reason I have a gun is because of Kiddo. There isn’t a chance that someone’s going to hurt him or take him or endanger our lives on my watch, and now I have the means to stop someone’s attempt, should it occur. I’m staying alert enough and practicing good habits to avoid the situation in the first place, though, but a little backup never hurts.

The best thing the instructor said was, “If you’re in a gunfight, you’ve screwed something up.” I agree with that. The gun isn’t an end-all response to everything, but it is a helpful tool if the situation ever escalates beyond something I can handle. We’re all going shooting over the next few weeks so I can improve my handling and comfort level.

I think that’s it. I only had about five minutes to write this during work.

Kiddo biffed and smacked his face on the window ledge. He started crying and I picked him up and cuddled him, holding his poor little head to my shoulder. He stopped crying and sat back up, and I went to give his face kisses and - there was blood all over his mouth. And my shoulder, and my neck.

I rediscovered how the sight of blood exiting the body makes me very nauseated and dizzy. Good thing I was sitting down.

I didn’t panic and I didn’t let the “oh crap, vomit” feeling get to me. I looked under his lip (stomach roiled at that decision and we didn’t do it again), took him into the bathroom and washed it off, and then got him a piece of ice to suck on. I wrapped it in thin cloth so it didn’t stick to his lips or anything.

He was still bleeding 30-40 minutes later when I went to work. Not a lot, but enough to make red swipes on the spoon as he ate his food.

I felt so bad. I know kids’ll get hurt but man, that sucked. I couldn’t have done anything about it, either; I’m just not that quick. I’d have to have been holding him to prevent it.

Poor kiddo.

… I’m still grossed out by the blood. /shudder

I haven’t felt like doing much these past few days. We did buy a new carseat today, though, with the money we got from selling stuff on EBay and with a bit of help from my mom. I’m really excited about it and I can’t wait until it gets here! Kiddo is really outgrowing his and he looks cramped whenever I put him in it. He’ll love this new one.

I’ll post more story here soon. I need to go through and re-read a lot of it and make sure it doesn’t have any blatant spelling errors. I’m not changing the content, just giving it a once-through to avoid looking like an illiterate boob.

Speaking of boobs, the kid’s said his first words - one of which is “boobie.” I think it’s hilarious. He has also said “hat” and a few others. He repeats words pretty well. He did grasp the concept of “hat” though - I put a small toy box on his head and he said HAT. I was FLOORED.

Anyway, it’s time for me to go home from work.