Go, go, Gadget, random!
I've been meaning to post this since Monday, partly because I wanted to title it "Just another random Monday" and partly because I have the best of intentions when it comes to updating this Web site. But alas, now it's twelve-thirty in the morning on Thursday, and for sure I'll be dragging for work tomorrow but who cares, LET'S GET ON WITH THE SHARING.
* * *
If I had posted this on Monday, I would have totally retracted the claim in my last entry that Nathan wasn't anywhere near sleeping through the night, because on Sunday he slept soundly in his bassinet from ten until six, and Luke was all, "Yes, we can!" because he refuses to believe our son would be so cruel as to continue with these three a.m. feedings for much longer. Too bad I was up until one o'clock paying bills and missed out on the gloriousness that is passing out for longer than three to four hours at a time, because the following night he woke up at one and again at three. We'll see about tonight.
I would also retract what I said about my pants being a smidge too big; they are more than a smidge too big. THEY ARE FALLING OFF MY ASS. Which, you know, hooray, weight loss! but also shit, because we are not made of money and I could think of better things to do with my time than parade around my place of employment pulling up my pant legs to keep from tripping on the hem. Why didn't I at least TRY ON the size twelves? Low self-esteem, you are a bitch.
* * *
In an attempt to flatten all the layers of skin currently bogging down my mid-section, I ordered a Spanx cami online to pair with my back-to-work shirts. After all the hype I've been subjected to about Spanx (one of my Saint Joe students back in 2007 even focused on Spanx for my "Create a blog for a company" assignment), I was totally prepared to love the Spanx, maybe even write an entry titled "Spanx you very much," but alas, to my dismay, I am not loving the Spanx. The bust portion of the shaper is fine, but the blasted thing keeps rolling up to my belly button whenever I sit down. I fully acknowledge that I could've ordered a size too small, but if a large is too small for a freaking UNDERGARMENT, please hold on while I curl up into a ball and cry.
* * *
Starting last weekend, Gilmore Girls is now running on SOAPNet. I didn't watch this show when it was on the WB (that's where it was, right?) a million years ago, so why I'm so excited is beyond me, but I can tell you that there are two episodes saved to my DVR and seriously I am so, so excited. Other ancient shows I would like to Be In The Know About include Dawson's Creek and the original 90210. For the latter, I'm Mostly In The Know, but I stopped watching sometime in the late nineties; I picked it up again on SOAPNet while on maternity leave but fell off during two crucial plot points: Valerie's exit and the series finale. Why did Valerie leave? Do Dylan and Kelly end up together? Does Steve marry Janet? What about Gina? Man, Gina was a bitch. Inquiring minds want to know but are too lazy to search Wikipedia.
* * *
Baby-sitting, take one! One of the new coworkers in my department spent a year in New York working as an au pair and has already offered her services to me, so she is on the calendar to sit with Kara and Nathan when Luke sleeps through and I rock out to Billy Joel and Elton John next month. We're going to have her and her husband over a couple of times prior to that so she can meet the kids, but that cannot happen until I have thoroughly disinfected my house, and that cannot happen until I'm a little more well rested. In the meantime, I stare at the spittle on the bathroom mirror and the splotches of God knows what on the kitchen floor, and a part of me dies inside.
* * *
Luke and I talk a good game about getting off our asses and going back to church--there's an Episcopal church not ten minutes from our new house that seems very nice--but it never works out, and I hate to admit it, but part of me is hella nervous about leaving Kara in the nursery with a person we've never met before. (Nathan is not even an option right now. The boy, he will stay with me.) Paranoid much, Frema?
* * *
Does anybody besides me still do all their blog reading the old-fashioned way (loading each page)? I have a Google Reader account, but it hasn't been checked in probably a year. I really love the design aspect and functionality of blogs and feel like I have a more personal experience with the bloggers when I keep up with their actual sites.
* * *
My mother is on Facebook. My MOTHER, a woman who routinely asks me if I can print out pages from my blog and mail them to her, is on Facebook. I am not on Facebook. This must change.
* * *
In the last week or so, Kara's interest in Nathan has skyrocketed to the point where she spends a considerable portion of her waking hours just trying to hug him, and if you think there's anything more precious than watching your toddler daughter nearly suffocate her infant brother, you would be dead wrong, my friends. Dead wrong.
Going in for the kill, dun dun dun dun dun dun....
Nathan: Why, God, why?
Mission accomplished. Happiness all around.
Yes, we can!
And we're out.
(Kudos to Luke for the pictures.)






















But not Prada clothes. Or a handbag. Or shoes. Or even a jaunty hat.



