Happy Halloween!!!

Happy Halloween! Baba was a puppy. Zippy and I were homicidal maniacs. Simple and classic; they look just like everyone else.

I guess, since tomorrow is the first day of November (let the novel writing begin) I'll see you in a month. Big sigh.

Things to decide before 12:01 am November 1st:
What genre?
What is the story about?
Characters?
Plot (optional, of course)?
Conflict?
Resolution?
Why do I torture myself by making me write a novel in a month?

Candy bars

I really want a candy bar. I mean I really want a nice, juicy, chocolaty candy bar.

I used to work in shipping with a friend of mine, Mandell. One day we were talking about "hit the spot" moments. She said on her wedding night, after her and her husband consummated their vows, she's going to say, "Mmm. That hit the spot."

A candy bar would definetly hit the spot. I have a feeling that the Hep B booster I am getting in an hour isn't going to hit the spot the way a candy bar would.

Expensive Entertainment

Here is proof positive that children are the most expensive form of entertainment.


Yes, you are seeing the camera shake and hearing Zippy and I try to control our laughter in the background.

Quick note: This video takes a long time to load. I'm working on that. Patience young grasshopper, it will load eventually. In my unbiased opinion, it is worth the wait.

Christmas and Pizza

I love Christmas. My Christmas tree goes up the day after Thanksgiving like clockwork. I am almost done Christmas shopping, yet even I question why the Christmas decorations go out in stores with the Halloween decorations.

Put your Halloween decorations and candy on clearance (Okay. Fine. Just candy. I'm not really going to buy any Halloween decorations anyway) and then you can bring out the Christmas stuff. Don't waste valuable floor space with Thanksgiving stuff. I really don't need to decorate for Thanksgiving nor am I going to buy anyone a Thanksgiving card and/or present.

But I will take a cheap turkey. Yum.

We stopped at Nick-N-Willy's pizza today. We normally don't eat out that often; the biggest reason being we are poor. But we stopped today because we were hungry, and we get an extra $2 for Baba's Upromise account (PS, we are the greatest parent's ever. We have $1.32 in college savings thus far. That should maybe buy a pencil when Baba gets to college). Bad idea. The pizza was by far the best pizza I have ever tasted. It was perfect! Lots and lots of toppings and very little cheese. And it was pretty reasonable, price wise. There lunch special (which we ordered two of) was an 8 inch personal pizza and a fountain drink for $4.95. And it wasn't just a cheese pizza, it was any pizza. Yummy and dangerous. But, I guess, since we are saving for Baba's college tuition by eating out we can afford it.

(I'll just forget that we and Baba would be better off if we deposited $10.54 (our total) into his college savings account and ate at home. But still, $2.84 in his college fund and pizza is better than $10.54 in his college fund and no pizza. Right? Right?)

My Day By the Numbers

1: Number of stuffed bugs living in my living room (a ladybug).
0: Number of drinks I had today.
3: Number of drinks I wish I would have had today.
1: Number of showers I took today.
2: Number of miles I ran today.
2: Number of times I weighed myself today (one time I was holding Baba so I was technically weighing him).
3: Number of animals whose meat I tried today (chicken, duck, pheasant).
1: Number of rocking horses that Baba received as a Halloween present (um, where's my Halloween present?)
32: Number of times Baba mounted the horse.
32: Number of times Baba dismounted the horse.
57: Number of times Baba pressed the horse's ear to make his tail wag.
1: Number of eyeballs injuried by the snack cupboard.
9: Number of hours of sleep I got last night.
10,000,000,000,000,000,000,000: Number of times Baba said, "Uh-oh!" today.
28: Number of times Baba went to look for Pudge but found him sleeping.
1: Number of naps Baba took today.
17: Number of times Baba asked for "more" today.
2: Number of times I said, while watching my parent's cable TV, "boy, am I glad I don't pay for cable."
78: Number of times Baba said "moo" and/or located a cow.
8: Number of minutes until bed, hopeful.
68: Number of minutes until bed, actual.

Life's Great Mysteries

Why is it so much harder to run 1.2 miles when you have a fever and a stomach ache than 2+ miles when you are healthy?

Why does my dryer insist on eating a sock a week?

Why is Pop Secret popcorn a thousand times better than Act II?

Why is it when I'm not really hungry and decide to have, oh I don't know, apple sauce and ice cream for lunch am I ravenous after eating my psuedo lunch?

Why did my VCR eat my Sound of Music tape and not any of the silly songs or Thomas videos we own?

Why!?

A real conversation between my mother and I:

Mom: Another American Girl catalog came. You better have a little girl so you can start buying American Girl stuff again.

Me: (inside my head: Why do I need a little girl to buy that stuff? Can't I buy it for me?)

Mom: If you are going to adopt you need to get on an adoption list. It takes a long time to adopt.

Me: (noting I never responded aloud to her comment and never mentioned adoption in this conversation. Quick decision. Agree and end conversation or argue with her) If you want to adopt an older child it doesn't take that long. (Damn it! Wrong choice).

Mom: Well, my cousin Shelly was on a list for a long time and she just got her daughter from China. And she isn't an infant. She's one!

Me: (Ohmygod! One, she's practically an adult, why did she need to be adopted) Ben got his kids fairly quickly because he was willing to adopt older kids and siblings (ha! Take that!)

Lather, rinse, repeat. Why did I answer the phone when I saw "Mom's Cell Phone" in the caller ID?

Darth Baby

Lately, Baba has had the tendency to fall asleep for the night any where but his bed. Tonight he fell asleep right by his door. How do I know this? Well, when I walked past his door, I heard very heavy breathing a la Darth Vader. I guess he is not over his cold.

Nicknames

My little family (Zippy, myself, Wili, and Baba) and my bigger family (parental units, sister, and soon to be brother-in-law) have never been much on using your real name. Real names are reserved for times when you are in trouble (I actually tested all the possible names for Baba by yelling them in an angry tone. Names that felt "good" yelling stayed on the list of names).

That being said, we have gotten very good at the giving and receiving on nicknames over the years. I have a friend whom we call "Porkchop" - the story behind that name? Well, out of the blue she said, "Quit picking on Porkchop." As far as we could tell no one had ever called her Porkchop before that day. Alas, it stuck. My sister will answer to: Sistra, Ditty, Little Ditty, and KaylaMcaShoebomb-Kackalackaticktock-Tickalickaboombomb-No-Nicknames. She created that name for herself while we were out shopping for track suits (you remember? Those ones made out of the windbreaker material. The tops and bottoms matched). It was the late 80s early 90s and we were so cool! Oops. I mean rad. We were so rad!

I have never called Zippy honey or dear or sweetheart or any other name that makes me gag. He has been Poonch, Hungie, Oreida Potato, Husband, the Yady, and Poonchie, among others. The cat, much to the dismay of my sister, goes by Mister Wili (she thinks its dumb that we named a female cat Wili and thinks its ever dumber that we call her Mister Wili. She is now an it, so there) or Silly-Wili-Ding-Dong or just plain "Ili!" (always Ili! with an exclamation point. We are always happy to see Wili because then we can point to her nose, eyes, ears, and mouth and try to stick our sticky little fingers in each part).

And let us not forget Baba. He started out as Zebulon (Zebbie), which evolved into Mister Babis, and then the boy (that makes total sense. We've got "Husband" "Wife" or "Mife" and the "Boy") and now we go by Trouble. In case you are curious, my nicknames include: Toey, Sarie, Hungie, Mife, the Yady, ZarahZou, and Sistra, among others.

We also have a tendency to make up names for things or make up words. There are, what a billion quadrillion megabillion and five words and that isn't enough for us to express ourselves.

But we've got a new word/nickname (stick with me, although all this information is interesting, I do have a point). The other night we were doing our nightly march to bedtime and Zippy was reading a Star Wars book to Baba and me. I was paying closer attention than Baba. Baba uses story time to wring 5 more minutes of havoc wrecking out of the day - basically he likes to rearrange his room before bedtime, creating an obsticle of painful toys for us to avoid during our pitch black trips to his bedside to locate a plug for him in the middle of the night.

Anyway, Zippy got to the part about Anakin's mother, Shmi and he pronounced "Shmi" incorrectly. Being the Star Wars fan (nerd) that I am, I corrected him. He then changed Shmi's name to "Shimmy-shimmy-sham-shung." Every time he came across Shmi he would insert Shimmy-shimmy-sham-shung. I was rolling on the ground laughing. A certain Baba couldn't figure out what I thought was so funny, but laughed anyway.

The moral of the story: Never mispronounce a Star Wars' character's name in front of a Star Wars fanatic and everything is funny when you haven't slept in a couple days.

Savings, Decisions, and the People's Court

Someone went to Rainbow foods and spent $35.45 and saved $56.96 so I'm a happy girl. I went to Target to celebrate. I spent under $10 and did not buy the super cut jogging pants or the semi-cute but super cheap dress I wanted. Double celebrate.

So, I must admit that I don't have a lot of direction in my life - never have. I was never one of those kids who knew they always wanted to be a garbage man when they grew up. Frankly, I was jealous of those kids. So I went to college because that's what you are supposed to do. I got my degree in English in three years because I'm a dumb girl (dumb in that I thought if I didn't hurry my happy self up and graduate with Zippy he wouldn't wait around for me). "So what are you going to with an English degree?" everyone asked. I didn't know, but I had a degree so someone is going to give me a job and that's that.

Not so much. I can't say that I've ever had a job that I thought I could keep for an extended and the longest I've ever worked at one job is just over a year. I get bored so I quit. I regret quitting, although most of my jobs have really sucked. And, even if I wanted to go back, I couldn't admit that or have the balls to call up a former employer and ask for my job back. I think if Nevilled called me up and asked me to come back I would seriously consider it (sans bond training, or course). I liked ZennieZou and I can handle just about anything with a friend by my side. Sigh. One day, I'll figure it out.

But, on another note, I am addicted to People's Court again. Damn it! I thought I got over that. Why oh why must our rabbit ears work upstairs well enough to get trashy TV?

Why, oh why, oh why, did I decide to start running again in October. I have lived in Minnesota for must of my life and generally it gets cold here in the winter. So what is a girl to wear to keep warm when she's out running and it is 40 below?

Is this my email?

I changed my Avatar this morning. Now everytime I log in to check my yahoo mail I think that I logged into someone else's email because the Avatar smiling at me isn't the one I'm used to seeing.

Blogging or Jogging?

I have always had a real love/hate relationship with running. I both love and hate to run. I love how I feel when I'm running, but I hate being sweaty and out of breath. I love running farther then I've ever run before, even if it is only a couple feet, but I hate how tired I am when I get done running. I love how fast running whips my flabby ass into shape, but I hate actually having to pound the pavement (my knees hate running, too).

Before Baba was born, I used to run a lot. Okay, I'll be honest. Before I got pregnant, I used to run a lot (after I got pregnant my exercise consisted of walking from the couch to the fridge and back and racing to the bathroom to park the tiger, technicolor yawn, vomit, puke, upchuck, spew, etc). After Baba was born, not so much. It is so hard to find the energy to do anything, let alone run.

But, lately, I've been running again. Hooray! And let me tell you, running is all mental. Meaning you have to be mental to run. There is something seriously wrong with me. Yesterday, I wanted to go out in the freezing cold and run my happy self around the block (the block being about a mile or so). And if Baba and Zippy hadn't so generously shared their colds with me, I'd be out running this afternoon instead of blogging.

So why do I run? First and foremost, it kicks my ass. I can feel a difference in my thighs after only a couple trips around the block. Second, I like the peace. The monotony of running gives me time to think. Third, while I'm running I'm not stressing or eating; I'm doing something constructive. Fourth, all the cool kids are doing it. Fifth, if I start running 5k's and other fun runs I'll have a neat collection of free T-shirts.

I wonder which burns more calories, blogging or jogging?

A Lonely Book in a Sea of Toys

My brother-in-law's knocked-up girlfriend's daughter's birthday party was Saturday night. I ended up buying her a boxset of books - "A Little Princess," "The Secret Garden," and "Anne of Green Gables." All books I loved growing up (2 out of 3 are still on my book shelf today) and she loves to read, which is great.

Our gift was the only gift she got besides toys and clothes. I'm a firm believer in the gift of books. Books won't break. You never really outgrow a good book (you just get faster at reading the story). The birthday girl, Zannah, is in second grade, but is an awesome reader. Last year, she was reading chapter books.

And, if she doesn't like the books, I included a gift receipt so she can return for store credit and pick out different books.

The Baba and I

Baba and I spent an hour (yes, an hour) at Petsmart today. We saw "ogs," "ilis," "irds," "ish," and various reptiles and hampsters (he doesn't have a word for reptiles - just grunts growls). We then met Ditty and Zippy for lunch at Wendy's (nutrious and delicious).

I tried to put Baba down for a nap this afternoon (not that he needed one or anything). He joyously played in his room for 45 minutes and then I decided, spud to napping - he isn't sleeping anyway. After his release from prision, he ran for 3 hours. I have never seen him put on so many miles in our little house as he did today.

Where does all his energy come from?

How much?

How much do you spend on a birthday present for, deep breath, your brother-in-law's knocked-up girlfriend's 9 year old daughter?

TV, How Could You?

We didn't let Baba watch any TV until he turned one. It wasn't that we had "do not cross" police tape in front of the TV, he just wasn't interested so we didn't push it. But then we discovered that Baby Einstein truly is baby-crack. He would watch the "moos," "baas," and "udges" while myself or Zippy held him in our laps, joyously getting another 20 to 30 minutes of much needed sleep. It was a beautiful thing.

Zippy found an article yesterday that Cornell University has research that links the rise in autism to kids watching too much TV. Of course, swallowing small bits of water at regular intervals causes cancer, but still. It is hard to know what to believe and what not to believe since people are so disparate to find a "reason" for autism that they link it to everything, including TV and vaccinations.

I guess the big question is, which is a bigger risk with worse results: Me not having 30 minutes of whine-free peace a day or the boy getting autism?

Disclaimer: I am not in any way making light of the struggle that autistic children and their parents face every day. Nor do I dare minimize my need for whine-free space. It is a humdinger of a pickle.

Pleasant Pheasant and Gross Grouse

Pheasant season opened yesterday, I only know this because the opening dates of various hunting seasons (grouse, goose, early goose, deer, pheasant, duck, etc) were more important than Christmas day growing up (I believe Christmas is in December sometime?).

Because my parents firmly believe they will implode if they go more than a week without seeing Baba, we headed out to my grandparents farm so they could see Baba and Baba could wear himself out by running around all day.

Worked like a charm. Baba didn't seem to mind the freezing temperatures, he was too busy trying to chase down the "ili's," his word for cat. Why would a poor defenseless little kitty run away from someone like Baba toddling towards him?

Baba is now sleeping peacefully (hooray!) and I am trying to reach $20 worth of picture stuffs so I get free shipping from dotphoto.com. Who knew spending $20 could be so much work?

Speaking of work, we've been working very hard to get Baba to make our sign for Poonchies - you put your index fingers together and making kissing noises. Moving your fingers against each other obscenely is optional. He is finally getting it down! Our plan is to have him walk to the end of the aisle next summer at Poonch II and Ditty's wedding and make the sign.

Raindrops on Roses

The funny thing about depression is that just when you think that being depressed is so last week/last month/last year/etc, it comes knocking at your door and BOOM! its boxes of kleenexes and self-doubt waiting for you in bed. Depression is a bully - it increases it's self-esteem by making you feel bad. What a jerk! I am so not inviting depression to my birthday part.

The last couple weeks have been tough, not because anything specifically has happened, just because depression came around (that and Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun has been hiding behind a tree). Despite the fact that I have broken several threatening email chain letters lately an amazing thing happened a couple days ago. I got an email from a really good friend who I hadn't talked to in a couple years. And she called tonight and we talked for over an hour. It was like we hadn't been out of touch for 2 days, much less 2 years.

Leaving Cleveland to move back here was one of the hardest things I've ever done and not a day goes by when Zippy or I don't mention wanting to move back home.

But, I'm in such a good mood that I'm starting a list of my favorite things - the things that make me happy:

1. Phone calls/emails from "long-last" friends.
2. Snow - the clean white kind, not the run over by 5 semi's kind.
3. Vacations!
4. Human Anatomy.
5. Sleeping in.
6. Mornings when Baba wakes up with a "Momma!" instead of tears.
7. Chocolate.
8. Reading blogs.
9. Good books, especially when I have the time to read said good book from cover to cover.
10. Making Baba giggle.
11. Lazy days.
12. PJs until noon.
13. Cuddling with my husband and watching dumb movies.
14. Bad Sci-fi movies.
15. My friends.
16. Writing.
17. My cat.
18. Going to my grandparents house (tomorrow!).
19. Christmas season.
20. Weekends were we have nothing to do.
21. Grocery shopping.
22. Coupons!
23. Chinese food.
24. Eating in general.
25. Stepping on the scale and realizing I've lost any amount of weight.
25b. Putting on a pair of pants that cut off the circulation to my legs a year ago because they had "shrunk" and the pants now fit (how did they un-shrink?).
26. The cabin.
27. Sleeping.

I'm too tired to think of anything else (it's 10:30! It is way past my bed time).

Coupon Queen

My name is Gaft Girl and I have a problem. Deep breath. I love coupons. I have been known, on occasion, to buy multiple Sunday papers when there is a good coupon (case in point, last weekend. There was a $3 off a box of Luvs diapers. The $1.75 was totally worth it to get a second coupon). I also have my mother and grandmother save their coupons for me.

My second, perhaps more disturbing problem is this: I love to grocery shop. I'm serious. I love trying to get as many groceries for as little as possible (I never spend more than a $1 a serving for a meal). I spend hours (yes, plural) working on my list, scouring the grocery ads, and comparing prices. It is probably a disease. But I can feed my family of 3 for less than $200 a month and I probably have enough groceries in storage that we could go at least a month without buying anything but milk (of course, if we bought a cow.....).

Next to Sundays (new grocery ads), Wednesdays are my favorite day. Why? It is double coupon day, silly. Double coupon day ranks right up there with Nudie Magazine Day (Billy Madison), Christmas, and my birthday. It may even outrank Christmas and Nudie Magazine Day.

On what other day is it possible to exercise my coupon prowess? I get to chose the 5 coupons I want doubled (my suggestion is to pick the dollar coupons, but that's my humble opinion) and as long as I spend $25 they are doubled.

The key is to spend exactly $25, before coupons, and then after doubling and other coupons the weeks worth of groceries are down to $15 or so. Hooray. And never, ever shop on an empty stomach (a Chinese food buffet with Zennie Zou certainly nixed any emptiness I had in my stomach today!)

I must admit that today I didn't quite ring up at my usual $25 mark. My total was $40, which is the most I've spent on groceries in a long time. But, considering I have $12 off my next grocery order and a $10 mail in rebate, I think going over cost me less in the long run. Plus, I got to meet the worlds tallest man.

If I wasn't happily married, I would probably marry Rainbow Foods. Or Giant Eagle.

Stay Away Winter!

What are we going to do when it is too cold to play outside? Somebody loves being outside. The first thing we do in the morning is look for the moon. Then Baba spends his time divided between eating breakfasts (yes, plural) and pulling us to the front door to try to get us to open it.

He was not a happy camper the few mornings that it has been too cold (and I have been too lazy) to go for our usual walk.

But at least yesterday was nice. We walked, or attempted to walk, to the grocery store. On the way to the grocery store are two parks. We made it past one park, but the other park proved too tempting for some toddlers and Baba took of (as in removed himself from the stroller and started running) toward the park. I followed Baba and Zippy continued to the grocery store.

BFF

My BFF from 3rd grade, Zhastity (on the left - can you tell that me and my monkey arms took the picture?), was up from Kansas this weekend for a mutual friend, Zyan's, wedding. Zhastity and I went to elementary, middle, and started high school together. The summer after 9th grade her family moved to Kansas, but we kept in touch. She was one of my maids of honor when I got married.

At Zyan's wedding, there were all sorts of Beckerites that I knew in high school, but never really hung out with. I spent more time talking to them last night than I did in 4 years of high school. Its really weird what changes can happen in 6 years and what never changes.

I also saw my friend Ebob at the wedding. I really miss Ebob. He could always make me laugh and helped me survive a horrible senior year of high school. The only time I have ever gotten in a food fight was with Ebob, his car "The Ho-da" (it was a Honda that he scratched the "n" off of) and my car, Eleanore. Pizza, if left too long on your car, will do damage. May Eleanore and The Ho-da rest in peace.

From left to right: Little Ditty, Zhas, and me.

Zhas and I are kind of strange because there are not too many pictures of the two of us together. There is, however, an amazing picture that was taken moments after Zippy and my wedding of the two of us hugging.

My favorite picture, next to the hug, is the three of us playing "doctor" after I got my tonsils out. There is also the picture of the two of us on my grandpa's 3 wheeler a million years ago. I always thought when we grew up we'd be next door neighbors.

Zhas is in and out of my life a lot - that happens when you live so far away. But she's always been there for the important stuff - my wedding, high school graduation, Baba's birth. I'm really glad she was able to come up for the short trip (she got up here Saturday around 1 and left this morning around 8). It was nice to see her. True friendships last forever and friends are only a phone call/email (this is the 2000s!) away.

Chapters 7 & 8

Chapters 7 & 8 are Male Reproductive system and Female Reproductive system, respectively. Since I have used my reproductive system once, I am fairly certain I know what my parts are and how they generally work. I am not a male nor have I ever been one, but after reading the introduction to Chapter 7, I now know that "the function of the male reproductive system is to reproduce."

Um, okay. Here I was thinking this anatomy stuff was hard. It's obvious that the function of the male reproduction system is reproduction needs to be explained, but something like "Phimosis" would never need an explanation. (If you really must know, phimosis is congenital condition of tightening of the prepuce around the glans penis so that the foreskin cannot be retracted. Which took me several hours of research to figure that out.)

It's a miracle!

A certain small child has been waking up pre-buttcrack-thirty (before 5:00 am) and waking up screaming for a couple hours during the night for the past couple weeks. That is until this morning when, miracle of miracles, he slept until 7 am. And, will wonders never cease, he slept 12 hours without waking up screaming.

Life is good when you've had 9 hours of sleep. Almost makes a person consider having another kid (or cat or puppy).

Wee Willie Winkie

I'm sure in 10 to 15 years, Baba will be mortified that his mother shared this fact, but we chose not to have Baba circumcised (he'll also probably be angry that I let him use tampon boxes at Target for rattles, but what can you do?). Why? Well, I think it is kind of cruel (would you want your business mutilated?) and I didn't want to subject Baba to a surgery that wasn't medically necessary.

So why am I sharing this? Well, fast-forward 18 months to his 18th month well-baby check.

Dr: Have you noticed anything unusual about Baba's penis?

Me: (thinking - Don't have one, wouldn't recognize unusual or usual anatomy) No, why.

Dr: Well, I can't retract his foreskin and I believe the hole may be too small to allow urine to escape. Tell me, when he urinates is it a steady stream or is it like when you put your thumb on a garden hose?

Me: (thinking - he is still in diapers, for Pete's sake. I don't usually let him run around without one.) I haven't really noticed.

Dr: We'll have to keep an eye on the hole in his foreskin. He made need to be circumcised.

Me: (thinking - Um, ow!)

All of the males I have told that Baba may now need a circumcision have grabbed their business and said "Ow." We have yet to determine if his pee-hole is the proper size or if he'll just grow out of it (into it? I suppose if his business were to shrink, he might be okay).

I had my first anatomy test today; my brain is fried. I did okay (92.5%) on the first part. Not so okay (66.66%) on the second part. Looks like studying the arm and heart again is in my future. But not tonight. Its off to TV and booze.

Ouch!

After 2.5 hours of LD testing (dyslexia, ADHD, ADD, and other fun labels), an anatomy test tomorrow, and more LD testing tomorrow after my anat test, I'm wrecked and my brain hurts.

Duluth

I went up to Duluth this weekend. I had desinged some wedding invitations for Zippy's cousin and I wanted to give them to his fiance, Zindsey. I also went to visit my good friend Roblyn the Goblyn. I love her! We went to Michaels, some scrapbook place, and Chinese food!!!

Very few people will check your teeth for lunch leftovers for you.



I'm invited to an adult cocktail party! Roblyn and I were very busy making the invites. What do I wear?