I see, in my last post, that I said I "probably have enough material to [post every day in November]" and that I would post such material in the "very near future."
That was shortly before my lingering back pain turned into lingering sciatic nerve pain down my left leg, a pain that has been a daily thing for me ever since. It hasn't really put me in the mood to do anything that requires much concentration, what with the distracting sizzle in my leg and all. It probably doesn't help that it also has been winter lately, and winter is a soul-sucking succubus. Is "soul-sucking succubus" redundant? Probably.
I'm seeing a chiropractor now, and I'm still optimistic that this will help. It's not helping yet - one could go so far as to say that this is the worst I've felt since my back rose up in furious anger last May - but I'm seeing this as a slow, methodical process - kinda like breaking a leg to reset it correctly, though that's neither an entirely accurate nor entirely pleasant analogy - that will result in a long-term fix, rather than a quick and easy immediate fix that will just have to get repeated again and again.
So, I may not be in the mood to write for a little while longer. Though, I did write all this just now, during the usual early-afternoon window of being able to sit at my computer rather than stand, so who knows.
Speaking of standing at my computer, I still have my standing desk configuration going on here (keyboard on a shoebox, mouse/mousepad on a cookie tin, monitor angled up,) even though I am, in fact, sitting at the moment. My hands are at chest level. Just thought that was kinda amusing, is all.
Showing posts with label the ever-continuing graying of my hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the ever-continuing graying of my hair. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Time To Whine!
My computer is not feeling well. It has developed a tendency turn off spontaneously and, if it feels up to it, switch right back on. It's kinda like when the power goes off for a second during a thunderstorm. Only more repeatedly, and the lights stay on the whole time. The longest it's stayed on since its first trip-up yesterday morning is six minutes. Since I like the stuff on my hard drive, I've decided to not tempt fate with these constant power spikes and have stopped trying to turn the computer on in the hopes that the problem will miraculously solve itself.
And so, I'm stuck with the laptop, with its small screen and jerky mouse (though that's an improvement over the touchpad.) I often have to scroll left and right to see an entire webpage.
In the grand scheme of things, I really can't complain. I do, after all, have a laptop to fall back on. Not only that, but a laptop I got for free from a friend whose work was unloading the computers they were replacing. For something I didn't pay a cent for, it's not bad at all!
But I do miss my desktop computer. It has all my games on it!
And so, I'm stuck with the laptop, with its small screen and jerky mouse (though that's an improvement over the touchpad.) I often have to scroll left and right to see an entire webpage.
In the grand scheme of things, I really can't complain. I do, after all, have a laptop to fall back on. Not only that, but a laptop I got for free from a friend whose work was unloading the computers they were replacing. For something I didn't pay a cent for, it's not bad at all!
But I do miss my desktop computer. It has all my games on it!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
You Can Go Ahead and Let It Snow Now
I suppose everyone reading this already knows that we had a flight outta BWI scheduled for today and that it is currently snowing like a scene out of Rudolf The Red-Nosed Reindeer right now in Baltimore. You probably also already know that we're already here in Vegas, being as neither Mary nor Marcy raised any dummies.
'Twasn't easy, though. I somehow remained in blissful ignorance until Thursday night, when a Facebook Friend mentioned that she was going to go to the store ahead of all the snow crazies. So I checked the weather forecast. And flipped out.
For starters, our trip was not the kind that could just be delayed. M is godmother for her nephew's christening on Sunday. It's not the sort of thing one can reschedule at the drop of a hat. Or the drop of two feet of snow, if you prefer.
Next, even if we could fly out of Baltimore on the flight we signed up for and get to Vegas before Sunday morning, it was still very unlikely that it would take off in any kind of a timely manner. Spending countless hours in an airport with a two-year-old would have been most unappealing. Assuming we could get the airport in the first place.
And so, in the early hours of Friday, M looked into rescheduling to an earlier flight. I highly endorsed that plan, once I woke up at a civilized hour and was informed of the idea. There was a flight available around 5:30. Perfect. Enough time to get ready (reasonably so, anyway) and well before the storm. We just had to make sure M's sister would be around to pick us up!
By the time we had verified that M's sister could indeed pick us up a day earlier than expected, the 5:30 flight was booked up. So were a few flights before and all of the flights after 5:30. There was a 11:15 or so and a 1:40. It was 9:30. There was no way on this or any other earth that we'd be ready for the 11:15. We booked the 1:40. We had 2 hours to do almost everything necessary to get ready and still get out of the house in time to pick PG up from daycare and get to the airport early enough to get through that maze of bureaucracy and security. It was a tense(ish) two hours.
We got out of the house when we wanted to, surprisingly, and we got all the crucial stuff done. Hooray for M and me! And we got to our gate with a whole 10 minutes to spare, though it meant not having lunch, as defined by rational human beings. If you consider Nutri-Grain bars and cheese crackers from Hudson News lunch, then yes, we did have lunch.
The first leg of our journey west went amazingly well (our original plan was for there to be just one non-stop leg - that went out the window when we changed our plans.) PG was the very picture of a Good Girl. She was quiet and fairly well-behaved. And she napped for a couple hours too!
We switched planes in Albuquerque, taking care to make a right turn there, lest we get lost like Bugs Bunny. The hour and a half layover was uneventful, though PG did score a Disney Princess Activity Pack at a book shop.
Oh, to have had an uneventful flight from Albuquerque to Las Vegas. About halfway there, PG threw up all over her blankets. In retrospect, it was probably the movement of the plane, combined with watching a movie on our laptop. So we changed her clothes, put the blankets in a plastic bag, sat her down, and started the movie back up. And then she threw up all over my Ravens sweatshirt. And then again into an air sickness bag. Twice. And then again in the airport as M was just finishing up changing her into fresh clothes by baggage claim, requiring yet another change of clothes.
But we had arrived, and, after a bath, PG was none the worse for wear. And then, of course, the news from back east started trickling in today. Snow measured in feet, not inches. Flights canceled like crazy, including our original flight. Roads so overrun with snow we would never have gotten to the airport anyway. We chose wisely, and it was worth all the stress.
Now I just have to worry about getting into our driveway at 11:00 at night on Christmas Eve!
(Song lyric reference: It's a play on "Let It Snow")
'Twasn't easy, though. I somehow remained in blissful ignorance until Thursday night, when a Facebook Friend mentioned that she was going to go to the store ahead of all the snow crazies. So I checked the weather forecast. And flipped out.
For starters, our trip was not the kind that could just be delayed. M is godmother for her nephew's christening on Sunday. It's not the sort of thing one can reschedule at the drop of a hat. Or the drop of two feet of snow, if you prefer.
Next, even if we could fly out of Baltimore on the flight we signed up for and get to Vegas before Sunday morning, it was still very unlikely that it would take off in any kind of a timely manner. Spending countless hours in an airport with a two-year-old would have been most unappealing. Assuming we could get the airport in the first place.
And so, in the early hours of Friday, M looked into rescheduling to an earlier flight. I highly endorsed that plan, once I woke up at a civilized hour and was informed of the idea. There was a flight available around 5:30. Perfect. Enough time to get ready (reasonably so, anyway) and well before the storm. We just had to make sure M's sister would be around to pick us up!
By the time we had verified that M's sister could indeed pick us up a day earlier than expected, the 5:30 flight was booked up. So were a few flights before and all of the flights after 5:30. There was a 11:15 or so and a 1:40. It was 9:30. There was no way on this or any other earth that we'd be ready for the 11:15. We booked the 1:40. We had 2 hours to do almost everything necessary to get ready and still get out of the house in time to pick PG up from daycare and get to the airport early enough to get through that maze of bureaucracy and security. It was a tense(ish) two hours.
We got out of the house when we wanted to, surprisingly, and we got all the crucial stuff done. Hooray for M and me! And we got to our gate with a whole 10 minutes to spare, though it meant not having lunch, as defined by rational human beings. If you consider Nutri-Grain bars and cheese crackers from Hudson News lunch, then yes, we did have lunch.
The first leg of our journey west went amazingly well (our original plan was for there to be just one non-stop leg - that went out the window when we changed our plans.) PG was the very picture of a Good Girl. She was quiet and fairly well-behaved. And she napped for a couple hours too!
We switched planes in Albuquerque, taking care to make a right turn there, lest we get lost like Bugs Bunny. The hour and a half layover was uneventful, though PG did score a Disney Princess Activity Pack at a book shop.
Oh, to have had an uneventful flight from Albuquerque to Las Vegas. About halfway there, PG threw up all over her blankets. In retrospect, it was probably the movement of the plane, combined with watching a movie on our laptop. So we changed her clothes, put the blankets in a plastic bag, sat her down, and started the movie back up. And then she threw up all over my Ravens sweatshirt. And then again into an air sickness bag. Twice. And then again in the airport as M was just finishing up changing her into fresh clothes by baggage claim, requiring yet another change of clothes.
But we had arrived, and, after a bath, PG was none the worse for wear. And then, of course, the news from back east started trickling in today. Snow measured in feet, not inches. Flights canceled like crazy, including our original flight. Roads so overrun with snow we would never have gotten to the airport anyway. We chose wisely, and it was worth all the stress.
Now I just have to worry about getting into our driveway at 11:00 at night on Christmas Eve!
(Song lyric reference: It's a play on "Let It Snow")
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
It's Still That Same Old Back Beat Rhythm That Really Really Drives 'Em Wild
I've been putting together some CDs off of iTunes for our upcoming trek through Ohio, Iowa and points in between. I've been trying to pick songs that will be reasonably mild on PG's delicate ears, and I'm finding that picking songs that keep the drums somewhat on the down-low are good choices.
Thing is, it seems that sometime during the 70s someone decided that turning up the volume on the drum track was a good idea. So it's a little hard finding stuff from pretty much my lifetime that doesn't pound on your ears. Even Lisa Loeb, with her touchy-feely stuff, has someone banging on the drums. Meanwhile, you don't really notice the drums in the stuff from the 50s and 60s. It's just there, setting the mood, without shaking your eardrums.
Seriously... Lisa Loeb?
Update: Turns out my iTunes settings pump up the bass and drums more than the car CD player does, so that explains a few things. I still stand by my observation that, in at least one Lisa Loeb song, the drum track is as loud as the singing track. Ditto for Mary Chapin-Carpenter's "Passionate Kisses."
(Do I need to tell you that the post title was taken from "Heart of Rock n Roll" by Huey Lewis and The News?)
Thing is, it seems that sometime during the 70s someone decided that turning up the volume on the drum track was a good idea. So it's a little hard finding stuff from pretty much my lifetime that doesn't pound on your ears. Even Lisa Loeb, with her touchy-feely stuff, has someone banging on the drums. Meanwhile, you don't really notice the drums in the stuff from the 50s and 60s. It's just there, setting the mood, without shaking your eardrums.
Seriously... Lisa Loeb?
Update: Turns out my iTunes settings pump up the bass and drums more than the car CD player does, so that explains a few things. I still stand by my observation that, in at least one Lisa Loeb song, the drum track is as loud as the singing track. Ditto for Mary Chapin-Carpenter's "Passionate Kisses."
(Do I need to tell you that the post title was taken from "Heart of Rock n Roll" by Huey Lewis and The News?)
Thursday, April 23, 2009
I've Built Up So Much Character, I Have An Alter-Ego
First off - I have a Follower! Huzzah! The fact that said Follower is my own wife does not diminish this achievement, as I never mentioned to her that it was an option on my blog now, and therefore she did it unsolicited.
So anyway, things are getting a little more normal around here. This may come as news to you all, given that I have written very little of the not-normal. But take my word for it: normalization is afoot.
I spent the earlier part of last week with an actual, factual fever - my first in who knows how long. The sore throat was pretty bad too. It kept me from eating much, and I learned that one can be so hungry that they can become nauseous. I also learned that there isn't much on TV in the afternoon.
My illness was a hand-me-down from PG, who had, as far as I know, the exact same thing the previous week. So I sympathized, in retrospect, with her unwillingness to eat or drink much for a few days. Of course, she didn't have the same problem with lack of good TV programming, thanks to a large supply of My Friends Tigger and Pooh on FiOS On Demand, so on the balance she probably had things a little easier. As of this writing, M has not gotten what PG and I had, though I suspect she's had it for a few days now and we can't really tell because it isn't nearly as bad for her. Dare to dream.
My sickness managed to time itself so that it began not only on Easter, but also on the day my Dad went back to the hospital. He only stayed a couple of days, and he seems to be back on track, recovery-wise, so no worries now. I was a little worried for a while there, though. And I couldn't visit once I knew I was in bad shape myself. That'll happen.
We had a birthday party for PG this past Sunday, almost a full week after her actual birthday. It wasn't really practical to do the party Easter weekend, so our choices were few. Besides, PG was recently recovered from a fever and mine was just beginning that weekend, not that that was any kind of factor when we picked the date a month ago.
The party went well, though I was only dimly aware of the goings-on at the time, since I was scrambling around cooking this and setting up that. Next year we're ordering pizza.
So, ever since we moved in last November, the door from the kitchen to the back porch has been locked at the doorknob, rather than the bolt. Neither M nor I wanted it that way, but we both thought that the other did and so didn't do anything about it. This proved to be almost disastrous.
Since the weather started getting warm, we've been having the occasional meal out on the porch, and that was where we were for breakfast on Sunday. PG got restless after finishing her breakfast, so we let her run around on the porch. I had kinda forgotten about her until M started yelling No-no-no. PG, y'see, had gone into the kitchen and was closing the door behind her, because closing doors is a form of entertainment when you're 2. The doorknob was, of course, still locked, because you don't really think about those things when a locked doorknob turns just fine from the inside.
I wouldn't be telling you this story if M had reached the door in time, of course. So we were outside, unable to get in, and PG was playing inside with neither the inclination nor ability (in all likelihood) to open the door back up, despite our repeated urgings for her to do so. Happily, we had opened the window that looks out onto the porch earlier, so it was just a matter of removing the screen from the outside, which isn't actually all that easy. I got it eventually, and all was right again. And the kitchen door now has a doorknob that always turns from the outside and a bolt that gets actual use.
(The song lyric is from "Blue Skies Over Dundalk" by Mary Prankster. It doesn't really apply to anything I just wrote. I just like the line and didn't really see any upcoming opportunity to use it in context. Having said that, I'll probably be going through a lot of character building and developing multiple personalities in the near future.)
So anyway, things are getting a little more normal around here. This may come as news to you all, given that I have written very little of the not-normal. But take my word for it: normalization is afoot.
I spent the earlier part of last week with an actual, factual fever - my first in who knows how long. The sore throat was pretty bad too. It kept me from eating much, and I learned that one can be so hungry that they can become nauseous. I also learned that there isn't much on TV in the afternoon.
My illness was a hand-me-down from PG, who had, as far as I know, the exact same thing the previous week. So I sympathized, in retrospect, with her unwillingness to eat or drink much for a few days. Of course, she didn't have the same problem with lack of good TV programming, thanks to a large supply of My Friends Tigger and Pooh on FiOS On Demand, so on the balance she probably had things a little easier. As of this writing, M has not gotten what PG and I had, though I suspect she's had it for a few days now and we can't really tell because it isn't nearly as bad for her. Dare to dream.
My sickness managed to time itself so that it began not only on Easter, but also on the day my Dad went back to the hospital. He only stayed a couple of days, and he seems to be back on track, recovery-wise, so no worries now. I was a little worried for a while there, though. And I couldn't visit once I knew I was in bad shape myself. That'll happen.
We had a birthday party for PG this past Sunday, almost a full week after her actual birthday. It wasn't really practical to do the party Easter weekend, so our choices were few. Besides, PG was recently recovered from a fever and mine was just beginning that weekend, not that that was any kind of factor when we picked the date a month ago.
The party went well, though I was only dimly aware of the goings-on at the time, since I was scrambling around cooking this and setting up that. Next year we're ordering pizza.
So, ever since we moved in last November, the door from the kitchen to the back porch has been locked at the doorknob, rather than the bolt. Neither M nor I wanted it that way, but we both thought that the other did and so didn't do anything about it. This proved to be almost disastrous.
Since the weather started getting warm, we've been having the occasional meal out on the porch, and that was where we were for breakfast on Sunday. PG got restless after finishing her breakfast, so we let her run around on the porch. I had kinda forgotten about her until M started yelling No-no-no. PG, y'see, had gone into the kitchen and was closing the door behind her, because closing doors is a form of entertainment when you're 2. The doorknob was, of course, still locked, because you don't really think about those things when a locked doorknob turns just fine from the inside.
I wouldn't be telling you this story if M had reached the door in time, of course. So we were outside, unable to get in, and PG was playing inside with neither the inclination nor ability (in all likelihood) to open the door back up, despite our repeated urgings for her to do so. Happily, we had opened the window that looks out onto the porch earlier, so it was just a matter of removing the screen from the outside, which isn't actually all that easy. I got it eventually, and all was right again. And the kitchen door now has a doorknob that always turns from the outside and a bolt that gets actual use.
(The song lyric is from "Blue Skies Over Dundalk" by Mary Prankster. It doesn't really apply to anything I just wrote. I just like the line and didn't really see any upcoming opportunity to use it in context. Having said that, I'll probably be going through a lot of character building and developing multiple personalities in the near future.)
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
PrettyGirl Status Report
PrettyGirl continues to be pretty, of course. Just thought I'd get that out of the way.
She is also rapidly working her way towards a fully functional human brain. She is showing signs of having an imagination now, which is fun to watch. Just last night she got all nosy in the pantry (I need to remember to put a lock on that door) and pulled out an individually wrapped cup of applesauce. Rather than open it up and eat it herself, however, she decided that it was for Baby and proceeded to climb the stairs to her bedroom to find her baby doll and feed it. I knew this because of the following declaration as she was climbing the stairs:
So that story pretty much covers PG at the moment. Imaginative, babbling with an increasing use of English, and willful as hell. And, occasionally, easily distracted.
Though her birthday is still 12 days away, I've been considering her to be a 2-year-old for at least the past month.
She is also rapidly working her way towards a fully functional human brain. She is showing signs of having an imagination now, which is fun to watch. Just last night she got all nosy in the pantry (I need to remember to put a lock on that door) and pulled out an individually wrapped cup of applesauce. Rather than open it up and eat it herself, however, she decided that it was for Baby and proceeded to climb the stairs to her bedroom to find her baby doll and feed it. I knew this because of the following declaration as she was climbing the stairs:
Arsh mwaga Baby gose gwaga Baby. Oush.Despite this unassailable logic, I did have to ultimately veto the idea, since I wasn't looking forward to applesauce getting all over the rug in her room. She tried to appeal the decision, but I held firm and she forgot about the applesauce as soon as we were back downstairs, taking issue instead with my decision to bring her downstairs too. An immediate return to the upstairs as soon as I put her down and the subsequent discovery of a Pooh book in Mommie and Daddy's room put the entire issue to rest in her mind.
So that story pretty much covers PG at the moment. Imaginative, babbling with an increasing use of English, and willful as hell. And, occasionally, easily distracted.
Though her birthday is still 12 days away, I've been considering her to be a 2-year-old for at least the past month.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
License to Care By Day
PG, as you might expect, has had a new daycare provider since we moved across town in November. We've liked her (the daycare provider - although we do find PG to be pretty nifty too.) She's responded to our requests for adjustments in care - more lunch, earlier naps, e-mailing us daily updates, that sort of thing - and she makes an effort to teach our kid. She's a bit odd to chat with, in that she never gets particularly animated about anything, but the care has been good, and so has the weekly cost.
Shame it all has to end.
The Monday before last I arrived to pick up PG and was told that 1) there was a 13-year-old foster kid from Georgia in the house now, and 2) when she called daycare administration to let them know, they informed her that she couldn't be licensed for both daycare and for foster care. So she relinquished her daycare license and was going to continue on as an unlicensed daycare provider. Amazingly, she saw no problem with this, since she planned on following the state guidelines anyway. Even more amazingly, we were the only parents who had a problem with this.
Besides the elimination of oversight from the state, our other concern was that M's work reimburses her, partially, for daycare costs. We were worried that a lack of tax ID number for the daycare would mean no more reimbursements. The good news: we could still get reimbursed so long as we provided the daycare lady's Social Security number. The bad news: she wasn't comfortable giving that out to people who had entrusted the care of their child to her. The combination of losing the reimbursement and the extra shadiness of not wanting to give out her SS# pretty much decided it for us. Time to find a new daycare.
But not necessarily right away. PG is just a couple months away from turning 2, an apparently magic age that causes more doors to open, daycare-wise. Not quite the magic of turning 18 and suddenly allowed to vote or get shot at professionally, or turning 21 and no longer having to worry about getting in trouble with the law for drinking a beer (or, in PG's case, finally getting the opportunity to try beer for the first time,) but it's something. So we figured we'd gut it out until April and then find somebody.
Child care administration had a different idea, however. I'm a bit hazy on why they were cool with our daycare being unlicensed one week and then deciding to shut her down the next, but that's what happened. I was informed on Monday that she had to shut down. My immediate thought was "Oh good, things are winding down and I won't feel bad about essentially firing her (even though she knows we're leaving her and why,) because admin has done that for me!" But when she told me that it was effective immediately but that she could probably get away with keeping PG on until Friday, a deadline much sooner than I was anticipating, my thoughts took a more panicky turn. I took home some of the things that we were keeping there, just in case.
Happily, we had a backup plan. PG's old daycare had heard about our unlicensed problems from a mutual friend and had already offered to take PG back while we looked for somebody else on our side of town. M had already declined the offer, but circumstances being what they had become, we're now taking her up on it, figuring that we know and trust her, and PG has friends there. So, starting next Tuesday (daycares far and wide are closed on Monday for Presidents' Day,) I'll be taking the 40-minute round-trip twice a day to drop off and pick up PG. Looks like I'll finally get to use my EZ-Pass at the tunnel tollbooth!
In the meantime, we'll be interviewing new daycares and have already lined up three or four interviews over the next week or so. PG's spot at her old daycare is all hers until at least August, so I think we have the luxury of being choosy. The daily commute might motivate us not to drag our heels too much, though. A traffic-free hour-long-commute to Hagerstown is one thing. A dragging commute through the Ft. McHenry Tunnel could be another thing entirely.
(No song reference this time. The song references have become a "whenever something that works comes to mind" kinda thing. You can look at this title as a James Bond reference, however, particularly because that's how it was meant to be looked at.)
Shame it all has to end.
The Monday before last I arrived to pick up PG and was told that 1) there was a 13-year-old foster kid from Georgia in the house now, and 2) when she called daycare administration to let them know, they informed her that she couldn't be licensed for both daycare and for foster care. So she relinquished her daycare license and was going to continue on as an unlicensed daycare provider. Amazingly, she saw no problem with this, since she planned on following the state guidelines anyway. Even more amazingly, we were the only parents who had a problem with this.
Besides the elimination of oversight from the state, our other concern was that M's work reimburses her, partially, for daycare costs. We were worried that a lack of tax ID number for the daycare would mean no more reimbursements. The good news: we could still get reimbursed so long as we provided the daycare lady's Social Security number. The bad news: she wasn't comfortable giving that out to people who had entrusted the care of their child to her. The combination of losing the reimbursement and the extra shadiness of not wanting to give out her SS# pretty much decided it for us. Time to find a new daycare.
But not necessarily right away. PG is just a couple months away from turning 2, an apparently magic age that causes more doors to open, daycare-wise. Not quite the magic of turning 18 and suddenly allowed to vote or get shot at professionally, or turning 21 and no longer having to worry about getting in trouble with the law for drinking a beer (or, in PG's case, finally getting the opportunity to try beer for the first time,) but it's something. So we figured we'd gut it out until April and then find somebody.
Child care administration had a different idea, however. I'm a bit hazy on why they were cool with our daycare being unlicensed one week and then deciding to shut her down the next, but that's what happened. I was informed on Monday that she had to shut down. My immediate thought was "Oh good, things are winding down and I won't feel bad about essentially firing her (even though she knows we're leaving her and why,) because admin has done that for me!" But when she told me that it was effective immediately but that she could probably get away with keeping PG on until Friday, a deadline much sooner than I was anticipating, my thoughts took a more panicky turn. I took home some of the things that we were keeping there, just in case.
Happily, we had a backup plan. PG's old daycare had heard about our unlicensed problems from a mutual friend and had already offered to take PG back while we looked for somebody else on our side of town. M had already declined the offer, but circumstances being what they had become, we're now taking her up on it, figuring that we know and trust her, and PG has friends there. So, starting next Tuesday (daycares far and wide are closed on Monday for Presidents' Day,) I'll be taking the 40-minute round-trip twice a day to drop off and pick up PG. Looks like I'll finally get to use my EZ-Pass at the tunnel tollbooth!
In the meantime, we'll be interviewing new daycares and have already lined up three or four interviews over the next week or so. PG's spot at her old daycare is all hers until at least August, so I think we have the luxury of being choosy. The daily commute might motivate us not to drag our heels too much, though. A traffic-free hour-long-commute to Hagerstown is one thing. A dragging commute through the Ft. McHenry Tunnel could be another thing entirely.
(No song reference this time. The song references have become a "whenever something that works comes to mind" kinda thing. You can look at this title as a James Bond reference, however, particularly because that's how it was meant to be looked at.)
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Coming Up For Air
In the comments on my previous post, one of my Faithful Readers wished me a relaxing weekend. To give you an idea of how thoroughly that jinxed me, I have been working on the same post off and on (mostly off) since Monday the 9th.
I'll get into what's been keeping me busy later. I just wanted to assure you all that I do still exist in the blogosphere, and I'll get ya updated sometime... hopefully soon.
I'll get into what's been keeping me busy later. I just wanted to assure you all that I do still exist in the blogosphere, and I'll get ya updated sometime... hopefully soon.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Quite A Week
Here's been my week so far...
* I killed my Mac on Sunday while upgrading the operating system. I just learned of a way I might revive it, so I'll try that tonight, and perhaps all will be delightful and happy in that department in the near future.
* Monday was, to the best of my memory, uneventful. Until around 10 that night, when our daycare provider called to let us know that daycare would be on emergency shutdown the next day. This was due to our provider's grandmother's heart stopping for a little while, necessitating pacemaker surgery. Being as both people running the daycare had to be at the hospital on Tuesday to handle any decisions before, during and after the surgery (I assume,) there was to be no daycare.
* Tuesday was thus Daddy Daycare day (thankfully, not involving the Eddie Murphy movie of the same name in any way.) M had to be at work to coordinate communications with some high-falutin' photographer all day, whereas I had little that needed to be done at work, making me the go-to guy for PG care. PG and I spent the day hanging out and, in PG's case, developing a fever (not for the flavor of Pringles, if I may reference commercials that have not been seen by non-YouTube-viewing eyes for over a decade.) The forehead thermometer, which had proven accurate in the past, only read around 99 degrees, so there wasn't much cause for concern.
Then, at midnight that night, I got a call from my brother that our dad was in the emergency room. I'll just cut to the chase and say that all is fine now, but that going to the emergency room ended up being a good idea. That's all I'm gonna say about what happened.
* Wednesday was tiring at work and then I went to the hospital to visit my dad after work, where I stayed kinda late talking with him and my brother.
I was almost at home at 9:45 when M called me to let me know she was taking PG to the emergency room, because PG had just thrown up all over her. If PG hadn't bonked her head on an errant door at Subway earlier that evening, the vomiting wouldn't have been ER-worthy, but given the mishap, M decided it would be better safe than sorry. The vomiting ended up not being because of the head-bonk, but rather (in the doctor's best estimate) because of the 104 degree fever (thank you for the accurate readings, you lousy forehead thermometer) that was caused by the infection in her right ear, which was discovered during the ER examination. More antibiotics for PG!!
So that's been my week thus far.
Oh wait! Something good happened too! We got our piano! It's been in M's family since she was a kid, and her cousin had been holding it for us since M and her sister sold the house down in New Orleans a few years ago (five months before Katrina came along and made the damage to the house someone else's problem.) Now M's cousin is moving to North Carolina, so it was decided that since the piano had to be moved anyway, it may as well get moved to us. And it arrived yesterday, a day ahead of schedule! With all the hospital stuff, I haven't had a chance to check it out, aside from plunking a key on my way to PG's room to put her to bed late, late last night. Hopefully, I'll get an opportunity when I get home tonight. I can't wait to find out what the dinosaur song sounds like!
Y'see, PG has a book that has dinosaurs big and dinosaurs small, as well as dinosaurs weak, dinosaurs strong, and dinosaurs singing a dinosaur song - with the notes written out in musical notation above the singing dinosaurs. So now I can learn the tune so I can read the book to PG more accurately!
* I killed my Mac on Sunday while upgrading the operating system. I just learned of a way I might revive it, so I'll try that tonight, and perhaps all will be delightful and happy in that department in the near future.
* Monday was, to the best of my memory, uneventful. Until around 10 that night, when our daycare provider called to let us know that daycare would be on emergency shutdown the next day. This was due to our provider's grandmother's heart stopping for a little while, necessitating pacemaker surgery. Being as both people running the daycare had to be at the hospital on Tuesday to handle any decisions before, during and after the surgery (I assume,) there was to be no daycare.
* Tuesday was thus Daddy Daycare day (thankfully, not involving the Eddie Murphy movie of the same name in any way.) M had to be at work to coordinate communications with some high-falutin' photographer all day, whereas I had little that needed to be done at work, making me the go-to guy for PG care. PG and I spent the day hanging out and, in PG's case, developing a fever (not for the flavor of Pringles, if I may reference commercials that have not been seen by non-YouTube-viewing eyes for over a decade.) The forehead thermometer, which had proven accurate in the past, only read around 99 degrees, so there wasn't much cause for concern.
Then, at midnight that night, I got a call from my brother that our dad was in the emergency room. I'll just cut to the chase and say that all is fine now, but that going to the emergency room ended up being a good idea. That's all I'm gonna say about what happened.
* Wednesday was tiring at work and then I went to the hospital to visit my dad after work, where I stayed kinda late talking with him and my brother.
I was almost at home at 9:45 when M called me to let me know she was taking PG to the emergency room, because PG had just thrown up all over her. If PG hadn't bonked her head on an errant door at Subway earlier that evening, the vomiting wouldn't have been ER-worthy, but given the mishap, M decided it would be better safe than sorry. The vomiting ended up not being because of the head-bonk, but rather (in the doctor's best estimate) because of the 104 degree fever (thank you for the accurate readings, you lousy forehead thermometer) that was caused by the infection in her right ear, which was discovered during the ER examination. More antibiotics for PG!!
So that's been my week thus far.
Oh wait! Something good happened too! We got our piano! It's been in M's family since she was a kid, and her cousin had been holding it for us since M and her sister sold the house down in New Orleans a few years ago (five months before Katrina came along and made the damage to the house someone else's problem.) Now M's cousin is moving to North Carolina, so it was decided that since the piano had to be moved anyway, it may as well get moved to us. And it arrived yesterday, a day ahead of schedule! With all the hospital stuff, I haven't had a chance to check it out, aside from plunking a key on my way to PG's room to put her to bed late, late last night. Hopefully, I'll get an opportunity when I get home tonight. I can't wait to find out what the dinosaur song sounds like!
Y'see, PG has a book that has dinosaurs big and dinosaurs small, as well as dinosaurs weak, dinosaurs strong, and dinosaurs singing a dinosaur song - with the notes written out in musical notation above the singing dinosaurs. So now I can learn the tune so I can read the book to PG more accurately!
Thursday, May 08, 2008
My Little Tenzing Norgay
And, here's the other PG story I had on tap...
PG is fascinated by the stairs. Given complete freedom in the living room, she'll make a beeline for them, more often than not. For a long while, we tried to keep her away from that area, but M read somewhere that you should let kids explore, so she let PG climb up the first two stairs to the first landing, expecting that to be quite enough excitement for a little baby.
Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly enough excitement for PG, and she proceeded to climb all the remaining stairs to the second floor, pausing occasionally to look through the banister spindles to the living room below. Rest assured that M had her back the whole way up.
I'm a bit of a worrywart when it comes to PG, so I don't like this development one bit, but for now it doesn't appear to have escalated PG's love of stairs any more than what was already there. Happily, she pretty much ignores the stairs from the top end, which is really the more dangerous end of them, anyway. Also, we have started blocking off access to the living room from the dining room by strategic placement of PG's playpen. She can still get through, with a little bit of effort, but that at least buys us some time to stop any unsupervised stair-related shenanigans long before they happen.
I do worry about our inability thus far to find a gate that will fit our weirdly shaped railings upstairs, though. If I haven't found something by the time PG's walking, I'm gonna put up a big piece of plywood and some cinder blocks, per the suggestion of my ex sis-in-law.
Where does one find cinder blocks?
PG is fascinated by the stairs. Given complete freedom in the living room, she'll make a beeline for them, more often than not. For a long while, we tried to keep her away from that area, but M read somewhere that you should let kids explore, so she let PG climb up the first two stairs to the first landing, expecting that to be quite enough excitement for a little baby.
Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly enough excitement for PG, and she proceeded to climb all the remaining stairs to the second floor, pausing occasionally to look through the banister spindles to the living room below. Rest assured that M had her back the whole way up.
I'm a bit of a worrywart when it comes to PG, so I don't like this development one bit, but for now it doesn't appear to have escalated PG's love of stairs any more than what was already there. Happily, she pretty much ignores the stairs from the top end, which is really the more dangerous end of them, anyway. Also, we have started blocking off access to the living room from the dining room by strategic placement of PG's playpen. She can still get through, with a little bit of effort, but that at least buys us some time to stop any unsupervised stair-related shenanigans long before they happen.
I do worry about our inability thus far to find a gate that will fit our weirdly shaped railings upstairs, though. If I haven't found something by the time PG's walking, I'm gonna put up a big piece of plywood and some cinder blocks, per the suggestion of my ex sis-in-law.
Where does one find cinder blocks?
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