Romblestonia

When the bee stings...

2010-12-30T21:18:00.002-05:00

A few of my favorite things about life in New Zealand, in no particular order.

a) Drying clothes outdoors on the line is just what you do. A little over two years and we haven't used a dryer once (well, um, we don't actually have one. No hook up for one and no space!). Even during the winter when it rained non-stop for about three months, we dried clothes on the lines indoors. No big deal. I may never own a dryer again.

b) Fish and chips is a short walk away.

corollary to b) Because we were careful in choosing the neighborhood where we live, almost anything you could want is a short walk away; grocer store, pharmacies, four (count them) four thrift stores, two bike stores, lots of dairies (convenience stores), a cinema, fabric stores and all the Chinese and Indian restaurants you could want. Only thing not within walking distance is a yarn store, which is probably a good thing.

c) Hop in the car and you can be at any one of about 20 gorgeous beaches in about an hour. Or head to the rainforest for a walk along nearly empty forest paths.

d)I almost never see anyone wearing a suit. Or high heels.

e)Toy boxes and kid's corners in cafes and restaurants.

f) It's ok to walk into almost any place barefoot.

g) Fantails, tuis, parrots, woodpigeons and kingfishers. I like birds.

Let's see if I can make it through the alphabet in the next few months!

Some lies are ok?

2010-12-30T02:05:00.003-05:00

We live in a neighborhood in Auckland called Mt. Eden. At the northern tip of the neighborhood is a volcanic cone, also called Mt. Eden (or Maungawhau in Maori). According to the boy, Mt. Eden is "his" "mountain". (His buddy CR also has a mountain, Mt. Wellington). The proliferation of "mountains" in Auckland is a useful navigating tool, and the view from the tops is pretty cool, too.
Every few months we climb to the top of Mt. Eden, maybe a 3 mile walk up to the top of the crater. The boy's been doing this climb on his own for a while, which I think is pretty cool for someone whose legs are only about 2 feet long. Even though he was tired, we got him interested in going to the top and off we went. About half way up, he was grizzling a bit and a woman walking her dog down the hill said, "Hey, Mr. Whipple's at the top; you can have an ice-cream when you get up there!". I thought,I've never seen an ice-cream vendor at the top of the mountain, but hey, that'd be cool. So we get to the top, and of course, no ice-cream vendor. But you don't lie to the boy about ice-cream opportunities. The kid is serious about ice-cream. As he said, that woman was "super-rude, like the boy that cried wolf".
And why am I so indignant about this, when I just spent the last month telling some great big whoppers to the boy about some guy in a red suit?
Moral: Lies about guys that bring you presents only if you are good are ok. Lies about ice-cream opportunities, not ok.

Wow, another post!

2010-04-17T04:42:00.002-04:00

Great day, today. We got up, had a little drama during the making of blueberry muffins, but got out of the house by 9:30. Walked to a local church garage sale, where we scored a clock, some puzzles and a book. Then we decided we were hungry, and walked a little further down the street to have steamed buns at the Bun Hut. Yum! The boy actually ate four steamed buns. We'll make an adventurous eater out of him, yet. Then the boy and the husband walked to the park while I stopped in at the lower Salvation Army...half price on toys sale! I got two car/construction/levers/ramps toys for nine dollars, returned a top at the local discount store and met the boys at the park. We walked home and the boy spent the next four hours playing with his "new" toys. Nine dollars well spent! The hus made Chicken Kiev for dinner, and the boy TOTALLY cooperated with the teeth brushing, PJ, potty, books nighttime routing. Four is turning out to be ALOT easier than three.... Yaay!
And did you notice...we didn't have to drive the car at all today? The house may be a quirky little shack, but the location can't be beat!

Today my heart broke a little

2010-04-11T04:15:00.002-04:00

OK, so I never post, and everyone's given up on me and will never read this. Need to get it off my chest anyway.
Our neighbors are moving back to Germany and the Boy wanted to go over for one more play. This isn't what broke my heart...they're ok people, but we have some major philosophical disagreements and, though sad to see them go, I'm not heartbroken. No, the heartbreaking moment came when the Boy wanted to go over and play on the other neighbor's trampoline, which used to belong to the Germans. We have no fences, and often go into each others yards to play. As the Boy saw the daughter of the Germans, and the other neighbor boy come running out to play, he hid behind a tree. Daughter of the Germans began jumping on the trampoline saying, "We don't like the Boy,do we neighbor kid?" "He's not our friend". THAT's when my heart broke a little. My son just smiled at them. I told the little girl how rude she was being, and tried to get my son to leave. He's only 4. I'm not ready for this yet!!! The pain of the junior high school years is nearly raw still, and I have to go through this again? Later, she said something mean to the Boy again, in front of her parents, who, thankfully, acted appropriately appalled.
Oh, I worry about my son...knowing how I spent childhood as a bit of a square peg...I worry about him. Strange name, not-entirely-traditional parents, quirky personality already. And today's episode helped the worry not one bit.

A show I'd really like to see...

2009-06-30T02:36:00.003-04:00

There's this show on TV; I've never actually watched it, but I have seen the trailers. (TV time is knitting time)

This show is called "World's Greenest Homes", and it's the title that is particularly galling, given that the show presents enormous houses full of things and calls them "green". Overconsumption of anything, be it "sustainably produced" or not, is most definitely NOT "green".
So, here's my transcript for another show, also titled "World's Greenest Homes" :)
“Hello, I’m Missy Bellyview for “worlds truly greenest homes”. Today I’m here with Nanau, a Maasai woman, to talk to her about her GREEN home."“Hello Nanau”“Hello Missy.”“Nanau, let’s start with the exterior of your home.You’ve chosen a very eco-friendly covering for your house.Can you tell me about it?”
“Oh yes, Missy, I have covered my home with cow dung mixed with dirt. It’s sourced locally, so there were no carbon emissions other than my own CO2 emissions while I gathered it in this broken plastic bucket here. And it’s renewable. As long as we keep feeding the cows, they keep shitting, and we can continue to cover our homes in this eco-friendly material.”

“Fascinating. And such a lovely earthy color it has, too. Now tell me more about the interior of your house. This flooring, what is it?”

“This is dirt, Missy. I sprinkle water on it to keep the dust down, and as I and my husband and his four other wives and our children all walk and sit and sleep on it, so it compacts into a solid surface that functions beautifully.”

“Wow, that’s wonderful Nanau. What other elements make your home eco-friendly?”

“Well, Missy, here is the kitchen. It’s made of locally sourced trees that I felled and carried here on my back. I use firewood that I gather everyday for the fire, and collect water from that irrigation ditch you see down the road, so no fossil fuels are burned whatsoever as I make meals for my 5 children and extended family.”

"What about electricity, Nanau? Wind turbine, solar, hydro?"

"Missy, we have no electricity. That's what makes this house extra-super-green."

“Oh, it’s just exquisite, Nanau. Thank you so much for allowing us into your eco-friendly home.”

(turns to camera) “Next week, we’ll bring you the tarpaulin shack of a group of street children in Brazil. These children are living a very carbon neutral life, burning no fossil fuels since they don’t have running water or electricity, and all the elements of their home are locally sourced. And then next month we have something very special for you as we visit the home of a group of immigrants in California who have created a very environmentally friendly home by housing 14 people in two rooms. Talk about energy savings!”

“I’m Missy Bellyview, signing off for Worlds truly Greenest Homes…”

It's not ALL bad...

2009-06-05T22:37:00.009-04:00

OK,OK,
Despite that rather pitiful recent post, there are some positive things about having no social life. I have gotten quite a bit of knitting done, along with a few other craft projects...tomorrow I'm off to the craft shop to buy fabric for thermal curtains! (I'm actually considering backing them in fleece).
It's gotten COLD here...some mornings the kitchen hovers around 40F, our room around 45F, and, because we have a heater in there, we can get the boy's room to about 60F. Balmy. Hence the thermal curtains. And the weatherstripping we're off to buy. And a few sand-filled draft dodgers.
Here's a few recently completed items...
(yes, I know the socks
don't match. so?)

The vest is about 50% possum/50% wool. I like it ok...but it was a little too loose at first, then I tried to felt it and it got a little, um, weird. Ah well.
I am however quite proud of the sweater I made for daddy Romble's birthday...yet again proving that simple is sometimes better. I made a cardigan from knitty; but steeked the center instead of doing that dreaded every other row purl.

But then there was the zipper. When I followed the directions it looked like this. Crap.

So I removed the zipper, took out the facing, picked up stitches on the other side of the steek and made a facing sandwich for the zipper. Much better.
And here is the proud sweater-wearer. And doesn't that zipper look swell?

And here's my newest (old) acquisition. It was under the house we're renting. I took it to a shop, and 100 NZ dollars later, I've got a sewing machine. It straight stitches! It zig-zags. I love it.

A long update...that says nothing, really

2009-05-29T03:37:00.001-04:00

Almost 9 months. It’s always seemed like such a milestone….”if I’d gotten pregnant on day 1, we’d be having a baby now”. So many things are variable, but, give or take a few weeks, human gestation is constant at 9 months.
And, now, we’ve been in New Zealand almost long enough to grow a human being. In many ways, being in New Zealand is just like being in the US. Everyone (mostly) speaks English, shows on TV are from the US, a lot of the food is the same, many of the plants are the same or similar to plants in the US. Even many of the houses are in a style known as California bungalow. Get over that driving on the other side of the road thing, and it’s much like moving to another state. (Don’t tell that to the Kiwis).
I like many things about New Zealand. There are just a few I don’t like. I’d like to easily find a broom like in the US…you know, sort of triangle shaped, for getting into corners. I seem to only find push brooms. I really miss pay-at-the-pump gasoline, and think the whole right-of-way road code is weird. [Apparently, it’s just US paranoia that keeps me from leaving my child in the car while I go into the station to pay for gas…no one else I’ve spoken to seems to think it’s a problem] And I miss central heating, but the house is bearable right now with a fire burning away…
We found a house to rent that is near two main business districts, and on the weekends we can walk to any number of shops, restaurants and parks. (Except that most stores here aren’t open on Sundays…weekend shopping only went into effect in the 80’s). The regional parks and beaches are amazing, and there is a lot to do in Auckland. I’ve always kind of wanted to live in a city, for a little while, and got my wish.
Now we’re just dealing with the usual settling in issues, including…no friends. I had a wonderful set of friends in the US, whom I abandoned, a pattern that seems to repeat itself in my life. Even though I know I have these friends, the many weekends without people to talk to beyond the immediate family makes you wonder, “Why doesn’t anyone like me?” You know it’s irrational, you know you have friends, somewhere, but the loneliness takes over. And then you begin to desperately offer your number to the other moms at daycare. “Be my friend, please???”. But then you worry…if I invite you over, will you judge my rental house with its peeling wallpaper? What if my son has a tantrum…will you write me off as a bad mom? I had friends in the US, really, I did…I didn’t HAVE to come to New Zealand, please….let’s do this again!
It’s been an amazing time, though, and I’d like to do a better job of documenting some of what’s happening. SO….my May resolution is to post once a month, with an overview of the last month’s happenings. Consider this simply an introduction….

A tale of two....

2009-03-14T04:05:00.002-04:00

The fantasy: I hand stamp (using soy-based ink) a party invitation onto recycled paper. (Not an onerous task, given that we really only know 4 people here that we'd invite to a three year old's birthday party). I make the party decorations out of paper mache and the aforementioned recycled paper, and bake a cake using carrots from the garden and sweetened solely with apple juice. My friends come, bringing homemade jelly and recycled-paper cards. And possibly a little fairy dust. We hang out amongst the fruit trees and chickens and goats and get drunk on homemade wine.

The reality: I freak out, realizing that my son turns 3 in three weeks and I still haven't planned a party for him. I walk to the 2 dollar store (hey, with the exchange rate, that's the same as the 1 buck store...) and check out the cheap party items. I don't buy anything, thinking I'll see what's at the supermarket next door. There are only animal themed invitations at the supermarket. Guess what? We're having an animal theme party. I go back to the 2 dollar store and buy cups, napkins (serviettes), balloons, a banner, loot bags and party hats. All safari animal theme. All shipped from a country beginning with Ch. I've already bought cake mix at the supermarket. Confetti candy included. Perhaps I am redeemed since I walked to buy all of this. Perhaps while getting drunk on storebought wine I'll decide it doesn't matter.

Stuff you probably don't want to know...

2009-02-05T01:40:00.002-05:00

Almost one month! Woohoo! How's that for posting more often??
I've been spending my time (outside of work and playing with the Boy) busily making a paper mache kitchen for the Boy, finishing a pair of knee-high socks for me, and reading novels about New Zealand. I keep meaning to take photos of the first two, but I haven't done that, nor have I uploaded the non-existent images, or edited them, or added them to this here blog. So, I've been avoiding posting in fear of boring my non-existent readers.

Anyway. Thought I'd share an interesting experience with ya'll. I work in a building mostly occupied by an organization called Landcare New Zealand. They're sort of like, um, well I don't know what they're like...the USDA Ag Research Service with an environmental focus? They do research on native plants and biocontrol and fungi and arthropods and microorganisms and such. And we all occupy a "sustainable" building. The rainwater and greywater of the building are captured and recycled, we don't have individual rubbish bins, but do have teensy tiny boxes on our desks for all our "waste", there are recycling bins in the shared kitchen and out the back door, the floors are cement, carpeted with carpet cast-off tiles in certain places, most of the light is ambient, etc. etc. Also, although the toilets on the ground floor, where I work, are "proper" toilets that flush and all, the toilets in the two floors above are composting toilets. Today, I went upstairs to the library, which happens to be on the second floor. Nature called, and I decided to make my first visit to the composting toilet. I lifted the lid (signs above ask that you please leave the lid down when not using the toilet), and sat down. Immediately, a coolish breeze began to flow over my nether regions, a not-entirely unpleasant sensation. I did my business, the cool breeze leaving me feeling cleaned and rather refreshed all the while. Afterward, I closed the lid and washed my hands, as usual. I'd actually say the whole "long-drop" composting toilet experience was even enjoyable, but I wonder what that breeze would feel like from, say, the 9th floor of a tall building?!

I know, thanks for sharing....

The Iron Crafter

2009-01-09T01:20:00.003-05:00

Lest the world think I've been idle on the beaches of New Zealand...
When we came here I knew it would take a long time for our things to arrive, and that I'd go a little nuts if I didn't have at least one craft project to occupy my mind and hands. So I carried on the plane a bag with some yarn, a knitting needle (round) and some felt and I limited the shipped craft paraphenilia to one single fold-out box:

Soon after we arrived I realized it was colder than expected, so I made a family of hats (or hats for the family):

Then I finally mostly finished the sweater that caused me much consternation a few months ago: (You might notice, the sleeves don't exactly match. That's cause it wasn't done. It's finished now, and both sleeves match...about which I am very proud, yes.)

Our rental house needed some roman blinds to replace the very old, very worn curtains that didn't let any light in....(it was Macgyver crafts; with only a Leatherman and a pair of thread scissors, make a pair of roman blinds. I admit. Some glue was utilized in the process.)

And then there's the ongoing obsession with felt food: (Bread for the sandwiches is coming soon...I'm most proud of the pizza) (oh yeah. The captions don't show up. The orange triangles are peanut butter, the purple are jelly and the yellow are cheese. Use your imagination.)

The difference between...

2009-01-03T03:21:00.003-05:00

...feeling like you're in a "developed" or "developing" country is paved roads, near as I can tell. It's the oddest thing. There are a number of roads here in NZ that are not yet sealed (paved) and driving along them I get the feeling I could be back in Bolivia...or Honduras...or....
We got up early one morning during our recent trip and took the "309" road from Coromandel to the Pacific Coast Highway. We're pretty sure we were the first on the road since there were rocks that required moving...(and generated this oh-so-flattering photo of me moving them) I know, the rocks don't look so big, but we couldn't get the little Mazda beast over them, and there were too many to go around them easily.
The rest of our little summer vacation was beautiful, and wonderfully uneventful. We hiked to gorgeous beaches, ate more fish and chips than is advisable and saw some great little whimsical family-oriented tourist parks. And among the many things I like about this country, one of the best has to be that the mosquitos are nowhere near as abundant or vicious as those in other beautiful, lush places (like Virginia. or Bolivia. or Wyoming in the summer). A week of evenings spent drinking wine on the patio and I've only got three bites!

Four months and a world away...

2008-12-28T00:53:00.004-05:00

Well, the last post was about four months ago, exactly one month before we arrived in New Zealand. Since then we've learned how to drive on the other side of the road, learned that toddlers don't adjust very quickly to major life changes, and many, many other things.

I'd let this blog here go, but I think this just might be the best way to record some of the stuff going on in our lives, far, far away from friends and family.

From the first day here we've remarked on how much Auckland feels like an amalgamation of northern and southern California. The plants are very similar, and much of the city just feels like you could be somewhere in California. But there are a few things that are different...
1. Light switches turn on when pushed down, not up.
2. Nothing (except "dairies") is open on Sunday.
3. Dairies are what we have here instead of 7/11.
4. Diapers are nappies, napkins are serviettes, bathrooms are toilets (and often the toilet is separate from the bathroom, or even outside like our toilet (ahem. outhouse), flat white is a type of coffee and doorknobs are high on the doors.
5. Online shopping is virtually non-existent.

Just a short list. We're off tomorrow for our summer New Year's vacation. Photos of the hot water beach to follow!

Happy New Year everyone!

Fun with office supplies!

2008-08-24T15:20:00.003-04:00

I have about 450 left of the 500 business cards ordered for me two years ago, and I wanted to find ways to reuse them. We use a lot of them for note cards, for shopping lists and things, but I wanted to find something a little more "fun". Then, last week, inspiration hit. We received, yet again, some stickers and address labels from a wildlife/environment organization. (Does it strike anyone else as ridiculous that they would be wasting the paper?) These were cute, and, since we're leaving in a month, the 321 other address stickers we have saved from mass mailings are not likely to be used up any time soon. I decided to use the stickers, and my business cards, to make a fun matching game for the boy...and then, oh so proud of my reusing skills...I packaged them in leftover name tag holders from conferences. Behold:

And in my fantasy world, the boy will giggle with delight and play with them for half an hour in the plane. In reality, he'll probably use them to play 52card pickup in the plane and I'll be apologizing to my fellow passengers as they pick stickers out of their hair.
So that was Tuesday. Then, on Wednesday, I walked onto the Metro platform and noticed the buttons around the bust portion of my blouse weren't functioning properly and I was flashing all the other commuters. (I think this is a not-so-subtle hint on the part of my clothes that I need to get a little more exercise and stop snacking at my desk!) I put my bag strap over my shirt and made it into the office, where I made a beeline for the stapler, and stapled my shirt shut. Ha! Take that incompetent buttons! Of course, my shirt was black, and the staples, silver. But a black Sharpie solved that problem.

The excitement builds

2008-07-22T16:29:00.003-04:00

We are scurrying to get our paperwork done for the big move. We had to have our fingerprints checked over by the FBI, just to make sure we don't have arrest records (we don't. yaay.) And we've had to all be poked and prodded and x-rayed to make sure we're not bringing any known nasty bugs into the beautiful land of NZ. (Of course, now that they know things like that we have 600+ species of bacteria in our mouths...the whole invasive/non-endemic species concept could be on the verge of a big upset) We've had three moving companies to the house to look at our stuff (the stuff that won't stay here) and we're busily packing up boxes to store at relatives' houses.

And then our babysitter quits. With not-quite-24-hours notice. "Oh by the way...I start a new job. TOMORROW. Good luck finding someone to take care of the boy 4 hours a day!"

Maybe this first upheaval in the imminent string of upheavals is the reason my son comes running at me when I come in the door screaming "NO! NO Mama NO!" and tries to force me back out the door? I calmly say "I missed you too, darling", as I try to dodge the little fists headed toward my knees.

And maybe all the deep breaths for the next six months will give me bigger, stronger lungs.

Big news

2008-07-06T05:18:00.003-04:00

Well, ok, we made a decision. I've been wanting to post about it, but I'm a little afraid to jinx it, especially given the unfortunate circumstances surrounding our move out here. (Had interview, signed offer letter, sold house, bought house, 2 weeks before cross-country move got phone call,"hiring freeze instituted. sorry.", panicked....) But all turned out well.
And so....we're moving to New Zealand!!! I alternate between being really excited, really nervous and really sad as I realize we're tearing the boy away from his first home and friends:

Anyway, I'll be looking at fungi all day, about which I'm very excited, and we're hoping to spend most weekends exploring what by all accounts is an absolutely gorgeous place. (No, we've never been there. Yes, I realize it's a little nuts to leave friends and family for a job in a place you've never even been to.) So there. Now you know. And maybe now I can begin to post a little more since I've let the big ol' cat out of the bag...

I've given you a decision to make...

2008-06-16T22:13:00.003-04:00

Things to lose, things to take... (Did you know the Violent Femmes were HERE in October, and I was so lost in the fog of my little life I didn't get the news and I could have seen them in concert, but didn't? One cassette tape in my collection sums up my junior year in highschool...The Cure on one side and the VF on the other....memories, add them up...)

OK, so we don't really have a decision to make yet, but my temporary position here in DC is soon coming to a close, and we are going to have to make a Next Step. I've had a few interviews and a soon-to-occur interview, in places far and wide, with very different positions. (huh? Oh...New Zealand, Colorado and Bethesda, MD if you must know.) We've got a Decision Matrix on a spreadsheet, and a Big Decision will soon take place. How will we know if it's the right one?

This is only part of why I haven't been posting. Decision Angst. The other part was a recent trip to California to visit family. And many new, very cute babies. It was a wonderful trip. The boy Romble liked trying to be a California Cool Dude:

Because I've lost my mind

2008-05-06T21:19:00.004-04:00

For some reason, finally getting around to digitizing all our cassette tapes suddenly seemed appealing to me. So I went to Radio Shack, bought a $5 double-jack cable, downloaded Audacity, and am now the proud owner of a fully digitized copy of The Cure-Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me; original tape bought in 1988. I dunno...I suppose I wanted to make sure the boy had a digital audio archive passed on to him, from the original tapes. Because that's very important. If the music doesn't come from the tapes that lived in my truck and got soda and pet hair and other weird stuff on them, well, then, it's just not authentic. Next on the list, Crowded House.

Edited to add....yes, well, initially the thought was to digitize the tapes daddy R and I got in Africa and South America and can't get here, tapes of my grammy reading to me as a toddler, etc. But I had to practice on something, no?

2008-04-23T22:03:00.002-04:00

Foot and mouth...otherwise known as Coxsackie virus. And daddy Romble thought it was just a little too funny to say, Hey baby! You've got coxsacks on your feet! (Say it out loud)
The FO is an apron I copied from one my mom made (on the left). I made this one for a certain 2 year-old friend of the boy Romble who LOVES to feed him.
Spring has arrived in Northern Virginia (or NOVA, as we say). The forsythia and daffodils have come and gone, and now the tulips, lilacs, dogwoods and azaleas are in full bloom. Spring is just....happy.
We're tying strings on a vertical trellis for the front-yard cukes and tomatoes '08. The rest of the neighborhood, with their over-fertilized lawns and restrained foundation plantings and leaves in plastic bags (!!!!!!) is aghast. Just wait 'til we have the first harvest of home-grown cherry tomatoes.

peace out, yo!

Kick off to Spring!

2008-03-22T13:52:00.003-04:00

Today we took our first bike ride with the boy!!
It was only about 3 miles around the neighborhood, but it felt great! With the warm temps recently, I was inspired to dig out the bike that hasn't been ridden in 2 and a half years. I cleaned it up, and cleaned up Daddy Romble's bike, too. Then, despite the not-so-minor setback of not being able to find the bike pump (?!) we got everything together this morning (meaning, we hooked up the bike trailer to the bike) and set off!
[Strange things go missing around here. We think a poltergeist ate the pump. And the phone.]
[Oh, and don't just buy a cheap pump at Toys R Us because you think the boy won't last for the trip to REI.]
The boy didn't rip off his helmet, was quiet and chill for most of the ride, and I finally got a chance to use the gears on my bike because, guess what? Unlike our town in CA...there are hills here! Hmmm...we'll see if I can still walk tomorrow.
Edited on 3/25/08 to add: Yaay! 3 days later and I'm not even sore! Rails-to-trails of Virginia and Maryland, here we come!

Demoralizing, humbling, or the first important step on the road to recovery?

2008-03-18T21:47:00.001-04:00

The knitting Judge: You are charged with various counts of reckless knitting. One, first degree disdain for gauge swatches and practice swatches of new stitches. Two, jumping headlong into a project without first making sure all of your stitch calculations were correct. Three, arrogance and assumption that years of making other mistakes make you immune to new mistakes. Four, adapting another pattern to your own stitch gauge without reading the entire pattern first and realizing the real important information was at the end. How do you plead?

Me: guilty, your honor.

TKJ: I can't hear you. What was that?

Me: Guilty, your honor.

TKJ: Really, just like that? No rationalization, no "but I'm tired"?, no "but I just wanted something to do on the Metro and it's been so long since I finished a project and I only have about 3 hours a week to knit and who has time to do swatches"?. Dang, you're weak.

Me: Yes, your honor.

TKJ: Well, you will have to be punished. Do you have anything to say for yourself?

Me: Please, your honor, I've already ripped out round after round of stitches until I came to the sleeve join. I've redone the shaping four times now, each time after having completed at least an inch of rounds. I think the knitting itself has dealt its punitive blow.

TKJ: Ha, ha, honey, then you have another think coming. You will rip out the rounds again. You will create a practice swatch to determine which decrease stitches are right for the raglan shaping you wish to achieve. Your needles will refuse to work for you until you have read patterns all the way through. And you are until further notice stripped of any and all right to dispense knitting advice. Court adjourned.

put to shame....

2008-03-03T22:26:00.000-05:00

You'd think, having knit since I was 10, that I'd have some speed in the knitting arena. I don't. I am one s-l-o-w knitter, and not just because I can't seem to shake the English-yarn-in-the-right-hand habit. And then I see sites like this: http://myknittingisland.blogspot.com/2007/11/updates-and-small-fo.html
Seriously??? SIX days to finish a sweater??? SIX days??? Does the woman sleep? Eat? Pee? Wow. I am humbled.
And in an attempt to redeem myself as a knitter, I present the carrot sweater. I think it took me at least a month total knitting. And that was pre-baby, when I had all the time in the world. I knitted the 12 month size, and it just now fits, 2years-minus-one-month. (Note to self: Lanett patterns run big)
(I am not EVEN going to discuss the pounds of yarn, half-finished sweaters, and beginnings of sleeves filling the 14 gallon rubbermaid container in the basement. And then there's the simple stockinette raglan baby sweater I've been working in for over a month now. Apparently, if I knew the secret, I could finish it in 3 hours...???????)

icing

2008-02-21T21:58:00.000-05:00

Last week we woke up to a winterwonderland of ice; apparently tonight there is more to come. Luckily it melted fairly quickly, but not until havoc had been wreaked upon the roads of the nation's capitol.

In other news, I finished a set of knitted accessories for a
soon-to-be-4-year-old's 18"doll. Lacking the doll, I had to
use Ms. Bear as a model stand-in.
Stay warm everyone!

Rutty rut rut

2008-02-07T21:48:00.000-05:00

There are times recently I feel I'm in a bit of rut. I get up (earlier than I'd like to), drive to the Metro, get on the train, walk into work, sit at a desk for most of 9.5 hours, walk back to the train, drive home.. repeat. Hence the lack of posts. I'm too tired to even think of slightly witty or even interesting things to say.
But then, I get to come home to this....the playroom! I spent way more time thinking about this room than I probably should have, but with the help of Ikea and a few yard sales, I think it turned out rather well. The grow lights in the back are for the pepper and tomato seedlings (yes, that IS what they are!), and all that is on top of that big ol' hunk of wood I spent one, I mean two, nights cutting to size. I based the layout on the idea that a playroom is best divided into "zones"...the kitchen zone, the reading zone, the construction/manipulative zone. This is supposed to inspire more concentration and longer attention spans. Whatever. It DOES help remind ME where the toys go at night. And hey, I had an excuse to sew bright rainbow colored fleece pillow covers!
(I had planned on putting up "before" and "after" photos...with the messy room and the clean room. But at least in the photos it was kinda hard to tell the difference.)

2008-01-10T22:05:00.001-05:00

I realize I haven't posted photos since halloween, or so. So here are some from December. I particularly like this first one, because it looks like a little me is standing on the babe's shoulder.

We went back West for the holidays, and got to enjoy some snow and sledding. The snow was a huge hit...the sledding, well, we're still a little suspicious of this activity. Especially when it's COLD and we're HUNGRY.

On the way back home, we got upgraded to business class, and then dealt with 8 hours of delay for mechanical issues. Here's the boy enjoying the pleasures of business class seating....

Yes, we know he'll be warped...but exactly how?

2008-01-08T21:30:00.000-05:00

Words the Gooberbean says:
up, upstairs, down, all done, mama, dada, poppa, bird, apple, more, ball, no, yes (well, actually, "da". Panimayesh pa russki?), up there, dark, uh oh, bubble.

Signs the Gooberbean makes:
more, down, giraffe, elephant, cat, cheese, stop, go, cup, hat, thank you, please, uncle, owl, deer, wolf, bye bye, yes, no, bird, doll, leaves, play, crocodile, hot.

Hmmmm...you think he's trying to tell us something? Mom, Dad, I'd like to take the cat and some cheese and put on my hat and go play outside somewhere hot so I can see owls, deer, wolves, giraffes, elephants and crocodiles? The boy wants to go to Florida? Russian-speaking Florida? A Russian zoo? In summer? Well, anyway, there will have to be bubbles.

Tonight, while playing with balls, he noticed the doll in her "bed" (shoebox). He lifted her out and brought her over to me. "Do you think the doll's hungry? Do you want to feed the doll?" (notice a theme around here?). He said "da" and promptly went over and put the doll head- down into his toy saucepan which was on the toy kitchen burner, sizzling. Ummmm....

a good day

2007-12-11T20:55:00.000-05:00

Some days with a 20-month-old are rough... nothing makes the little man happy and he lets us know in NO uncertain terms.
And then there are the great days, that make up for all the rough ones. Tonight Gooberbean showed me he knows the sign for doll, then he brought me his doll (yes, the boy has a doll. It's the 21 century!) and proceeded to offer her his sippy cup. Awwww!
Then he tried to feed me all the plastic food in his kitchen, and then we fed the bear, lion and frog, too.
When it was time for bed we went upstairs, he showed me that he wanted to brush his teeth and let me brush them all, too! I said we could read one more book and then it was ni-night time. We read the book, then he slid off my lap and walked over to his crib...I put him in it, he curled up on his pillow and that was that!
Wow.

Woman vs. Wood; Woman wins (mostly)

2007-12-10T21:03:00.000-05:00

Last Friday I went to our local Ikea BY MYSELF!!!!

So...on my Ikea trip I bought a pre-cut solid wood countertop (Pronomen), to put in the playroom over the white cabinets we have on one of the walls. I knew it would be too big, but hey, that's what my skilsaw is for, right? I get the (heavy) thing home, and Daddy R really likes it, but he thinks it's going to be too arduous a task to cut it, and besides, it makes him sad that I am cutting into a perfectly good, finished piece of wood. "What does he know?" I think to myself.

On Saturday night, then (oh, the excitement at our house!), I wrestle the thing into the mudroom (our version of a garage/shop), put it on our sawhorse, get myself mentally prepared, and start up the skilsaw. I cut about 5 inches or so into the countertop and there is smoke everywhere and I'm having a really hard time pushing the saw through the wood. I decide I need to change the sawblade, but can't remember how. It's 11:30 by this time, so I shelve the project and go to bed. By Sunday night, I was determined to finish this darn project. I figured out how to change the blade, and sat on the floor of the playroom changing the skilsaw blade while Gooberbean watched the Wiggles. After I put him to bed I went down and started cutting the countertop. I made it about 1/3 of the way through, and I stopped for a moment when Daddy R came down. "I can smell the smoke all the way up in the bedroom!" he exclaims, "What's going on???" "Sorry," I say sheepishly, "I guess the second blade is still having a hard time." Daddy R lets me know he thinks I'm nuts and then shuts the door to the mudroom and goes back upstairs. I'm a little annoyed at him by now and decide I'll use the handsaw for a while and give the skilsaw a rest. So I saw a little...(hey, I've been talking about getting more exercise anyway), and then decide to move the wet laundry into the dryer and re-measure the cabinet space. I go to open the door to the mudroom and Daddy R. has. locked. it. Shoot, I say (or something similar), and stomp out into the backyard and around front to knock on the front door. (It's about 9:15pm by this time) I glare at him and go back downstairs. Damn countertop is NOT going to get the best of me!!! So I take my bow saw, my pruning saw, the hand saw and the skilsaw to the thing and finally get 8 inches cut off the entire length, and 3 inches cut off the width. This only took about 2 hours. I then sanded the cut edges, planed them with a hand plane (and sanded some more) and put the countertop in its final resting place. (I think it looks pretty good if I do say so myself!) At around 11:30pm, I poured myself a big glass of wine and sat down on the couch to relax before wandering up to bed at half-past-midnight. Maybe I really am nuts.

a proud moment!!

2007-11-26T22:05:00.000-05:00

I have, as a goal, to someday be a yoga person. I picture myself, 70 years old, in a room full of windows overlooking an ocean or forest, bending myself into various poses with ease. At the moment, though, I don't actually "do" yoga, although I did use a mommy yoga video regularly when I was pregnant with the Gooberbean.
The other day I was playing with the Goob, and bent over so he could crawl under me. He then bent over, feet and hands on floor, tushie in the air and I said, "Hey! good job! You're doing Down Dog!"

....a few days later, and when I say "Down Dog" he bends right over! His first yoga pose!

Maybe the Goob will be joining me in that yoga studio of mine... or at least he'll be ready for a macrobiotic southern California lifestyle someday :)

some people pay big $$$ for this!

2007-11-20T20:58:00.000-05:00

We call this "ze yogurt facial", which, of course, is then followed by "ze warm spa bath"!

We got a new computer! Yaaaaaaay! But there might be a few kinks still to work out....hmmm...

Lessee...happenings in Romblestonia. I went to Costa Rica for a week at the beginning of the month...wish the whole fam could've come, but it was a VERY quick trip. Then the gramps were here for a few days, during which we went to IKEA and made lots of home improvements. Mostly I'm obsessed with the Gooberbean's playroom in the basement. Perhaps photos of the transformation are in order. I was inspired by this site:
and probably spend far more time obsessing about this than I should!

And I finished a pair of alpaca socks for the Goob. Now it just has to get cold!

Happy Hallow's Eve!

2007-10-29T21:10:00.000-04:00

First off...well, at least Adam loves me. Even if he does want me to go on the abs diet. Does he live in my mirror?? No one else comments on this blog here. Of course, I guess I need to put up posts to get comments. Still no computer of my own... I'm using Daddy Romblestone's right now (I feel like some sort of modern day Virginia Woolf!)

Saturday we went to a FABULOUS Halloween party with lots of big folks and their respective little folks. We were the Cat in the Hat, and the two children he terrorizes on a quiet rainy day. VERY appropriate. We sat there, we two, with nothing to do....

When along came the Cat with a whoosh and a whoo!

Well, I thought it was important...

2007-10-05T12:35:00.000-04:00

Hi everyone!

You've probably given up on me. Still no home computer from which to post...so I'm posting from work (shhh...YOUR tax dollars at work, folks!)
Anyway, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and a little group I'm part of is raising money by selling t-shirts and things. Check them out, and remember, Squish Weekly For Healthy Boobs!

(Little people like healthy boobs, and alligators)

Maybe I need an intervention

2007-08-15T20:38:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I'm back. Still no video. This post is about me. Me, me, me.
About 6 months ago I got my hair whacked off. (See the meez for a semi-accurate representation of my current 'do) I was on vacation, tired of the Gooberbean pulling on my hair and hair accessories, and went to the nearest island hair salon to get it cut. It was the first of many haircuts recently that have found me nearly in tears as I stare at my image in the mirror as the stylist attempts to wrestle my curls into meek and sleek locks. The island stylist, she made me look like Dorothy Hamil. No joke.

So, when we returned home, I spent what I thought was an outrageous amount of money on a fix-it cut. I liked this cut, and began to reformulate my internal image to that of a woman with short hair.

It's Cute! Sassy! Chic!, and since it's MY hair, it's also Wacky!

Six weeks later, hair looking a little ratty around the edges and me not wanting to spend all that money again, I went to a bargain salon. This time it got cut very, very short. Apparently I'd miscommunicated with Mitzie. I looked more like my brother than I have since we were infants. But, still, it's short.

Cute! Sassy! Sporty! Wacky!

Lesson learned, I let this 'do grow out until it started to poke out in weird ways, and then went and spent another even more outrageous amount of money on another cut.
Still not what I wanted. In my mind's eye, I'd like to think I look like
this
But the reality? Maybe more like this

Why do I say this? Well, this afternoon went I got home, I was greeted at the door by a small crankypants and a big exasperatedpants. So I decided to take the little crankypants for a walk. I took him outside and strapped him into the stroller, as he complained, LOUDLY. I looked up to see a neighbor I barely know stop in front of the house and get out of her car. She looked at me and began to laugh. I stared at her, confused. She then proceeded to tell me she didn't recognize me with short hair and thought I was a strange MAN, perhaps kidnapping little crankypants. On her way somewhere, she had turned her car around, just to make sure things were ok. My heart was warmed, but my ego...maybe a bit bruised. I mean short hair is Sassy! Sporty? Chic... wacky...?? Sigh.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program...

2007-08-14T20:43:00.000-04:00

Howdy.

Blogging in Romblestonia-land has been suspended temporarily because my computer died. Dead, dead, dead. She won't start up, not in safe mode, not even with the recovery CD. Let's all say a little group thanks to Daddy Romble, though, for his obsessive backing up of all photos on many media types. Because although I may have lost important documents (but I'm not sure...I think everything was backed up), we still have all the photos of the Gooberbean. So, you'll have to wait for the cutest video ever of a little toddler running into the ocean like a newly hatched sea turtle and then tripping and falling backward, little legs waving in the air and laughing. It'll be worth it.

See you soon.

Momma Romble

Backyard Wildlife Safari

2007-07-20T21:19:00.000-04:00

We live in the suburbs of DC, about 14 miles out of the city, and I am constantly amazed at all the wildlife we DO have around here. Just the other week we were on a walk around the neighborhood early in the morning and we saw a family of red foxes...mom and four babies. They were in the (enormous) front yard of a house down the road, and just casually loped away, continuing to stare at us as we stared at them. Last week I saw a red fox in the front yard of the house across the street. It was fascinated by something in her bushes and kept jumping in.

We see bunnies daily, as well as chipmunks, and today the cat came running in with a vole-type creature. (We're trying to keep the cats inside most of the time, though, as it is baby bird season) I've seen raccoons and possums wander down the roads in the early morning as I leave for work, and bats fluttering around above the trees in the evening. Of course, the fireflies light up the night.

Today our butterfly bush was visited by a hummingbird and we saw a hairy woodpecker eating into our neighbor's rotting fence. We have at least three kinds of woodpeckers here, in addition to sparrows, cardinals, mockingbirds, titmice, and mourning doves.

This is all the wildlife I'm happy to share this space with. The Argentine ants and mosquitos, not so much.

And then of course, there's the yard-ape:

dancing bear diaper covers anyone??

2007-07-17T21:56:00.000-04:00

So much going on in Romblestonia land!

Baby Romblekin is walking a lot, now, faceplants while chasing after bubbles notwithstanding. Which brings me to the dilemma of exactly when do I say he took his first step? The first step sans coffeetable was about 4 months ago. But he didn't actually start WALKING until a couple of weeks ago. Oh, the efforts to chronicle a life!

Speaking of which. Yummy food abounds here. The front yard cukes and tomatoes are producing a bounty of fruits. The babe loves Cucumber (a proud moment for daddy) and cherry tomatoes. And here he is, with his first corn on the cob:(And you can sense daddy's excitement at the end of the clip, in which he....faints? falls down, overwhelmed with joy? ??)

And the most recent news... last weekend we went to a concert! with. the. baby.!!
It was Bob Weir (formerly of The Dead, ya know) and we had a rockin' jammin' good time. Unfortunately, the camera was set to 2+ exposure, so we all look a little ghost-like (but maybe not grateful to be ghost-like).

chip off the ol' carob-coated, granola-seaweed flavored block

2007-06-25T20:54:00.001-04:00

I have a sweet tooth. Thirty two of them, in fact. Daddy R accuses me of wishing I could mainline glucose. I also enjoy comfort food; fried chicken, french fries, grilled cheese and pickles, etc. One of my favorite comfort foods is macaroni and cheese. I especially like it with peas. (Except when I accidentally buy dried split peas and cook them with the mac & cheese on a camp stove at 8,000 feet. Then, gooey mac/cheese/split peas, not so good)

Daddy R, on the other hand, is kind of a health nut. A typical grocery store conversation might go like this:
me: "I want something sweet in the house. Like Oreos."
him: "How about whole-wheat, low-sodium, low-fat fig newtons instead."
me: "Um, ok...I guess that counts."

So tonight's menu was green papaya salad, sauteed squash and Annie's mac and cheese.
We gave the little one the mac&cheese first. Toddlers LIKE mac&cheese, right? Well, he systematically took all of the little pastas out of his bowl, tried a few, and commenced flinging the rest around the room. We then handed him a squash piece. Which. he. loved. He ate all the rest of the sauteed squash and basil we gave him, and then reluctantly had a few more bites of mac&cheese. Did I mention his favorite veggies are broccoli and spinach? Is this genetic?????

I am doomed to forever be the junk-food-loving outcast in this family.

(future soccer stars have to think about diet and performance at an early age)

and more kisses!!

2007-06-20T21:08:00.000-04:00

When a little one is still in the pre-verbal stage, you (at least I) often feel as if you are dealing with a pet, more than another little human. Does that sound horrible? Oh, well, it's true. However, once you see signs of comprehension, hallelujah, it's like the heavens open up and voices sing. Recently baby Romble learned to kiss!! We say, "give daddy a kiss", and he leans in and brushes those damn cute kissy lips up against daddy's scratchy cheek. He understands us! And responds appropriately! Oh my, that's a little person we've got here living with us!!!

can't find these "firsts" in the baby book??!!

2007-06-06T21:00:00.000-04:00

First openmouth kiss...
Yeah, this caught us by surprise, too. But, realistically, it was a "kiss" the way the little babe kisses a ball, a toy, a chair. We were out with friends and baby R was cruising over to little baby girl G and all of a sudden baby G's dad and I watched as our babies "kissed" and then hugged. (I kid you not...they may have just been using one another for balance, though...) My son (atta boy) then dropped to the ground and crawled away as baby G toddled after him. Here they are trying to pretend they're ignoring one another:

First time getting kicked out of a pub...
Oh boy, it gets worse and worse don't it? The aforementioned "kiss" took place at a brewpub nearby, where five of us family types took up residence in a back room. Things were fine until the wee ones started to run, crawl and roll around, at which point the manager walked through the room and said, loud enough for all to hear,"I've got a party of 10 coming in 5 minutes". She then pulled the chair out from under yours truly in order to make a show of moving some tables. Said party of 10 never showed in the 20 minutes or so it took us to make our exit, so we think we were just getting the ol' boot. Anyway, this would strike terror in any pub manager's heart...dontcha think?

up, up and away...not

2007-05-30T21:00:00.000-04:00

So, little baby Romble is nearly 14 months old now, and is still not walking. He's been crawling since he was 9 months old, and cruising since 9.5 months, but he refuses to let go of the safety of the couch/coffee/table/chair/wall, etc. This is becoming a real problem because he loves to go outside, but his little legs are all covered in scratches and bruises from crawling on the grass/mulch/pavement. And, if you think not walking means limited mobility...ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! We went to a kid's concert on Monday at a nearby cafe. Being Memorial Day and all, the crowd was light...four kids. Two very sweet, well behaved 3 year old girls. A cute (walking!) 16 month old boy who stayed near mom and dad and wiggled. And then there was my son. Daddy R and I set ourselves up at opposite ends of the room and ran interference for the kid that did not stop crawling...around the room, across the stage (stopping to wave and smile at everyone), under the chairs, up on a platform, back around the room... By the end his legs were black from the dirty (!) carpet, and I'm sure the other parents were thinking, "can't you control that kid???" (nope, not really)
Here's to hoping the spirit moves him soon!!

Separated at birth???

2007-05-21T21:16:00.000-04:00

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Happy Mother's Day!

2007-05-14T20:44:00.000-04:00

Happy Mom's day to all of you mommies and mommies-to-be (you know who you are...!)
We had a good weekend, but little count Dracula is getting three teeth in at once, biting on everything, and last night was up at 10, 2,3 and 4. Happy mother's day to me!
There are many "mother's day" celebrations around the world, but Julia Ward Howe began a "mother's day for peace" with this proclamation: (and it seems especially apropos at the moment.)

Mother's Day Proclamation
Arise, then, women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts,
Whether our baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
"We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."
From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says: "Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace,
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God.
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And at the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.

~ Julia Ward Howe

Peace, ya'll

Mommy Romblestone

The 'stache is soooo passe...

2007-05-01T21:21:00.000-04:00

Hey ya'll! The babe's first birthday came and went...in my head I posted about it lots of times, but, well, things happen. I made him some great cupcakes, no sugar added, just apple juice concentrate, and they were a big hit. He got a little piano for the occasion, which he loves to play standing up, just like Jerry Lee Lewis. I went to Nicaragua again, everyone survived here at home. I discovered that when my cell phone is on vibrate and in my back pocket, I don't feel it. Must be the buns of steel. (ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha). I coined a new word(?)...Friending. Like dating, only trying out lots of different folks to see if they'll work as friends. A must in a big metro area like ours, apparently. And here's the latest....move over, milk mustache, here's the milk soul patch!

And here's a boy and his balloon...last one from the birthday party, but a BIG hit.

Margaritaville

2007-04-04T21:31:00.000-04:00

Hi ho!

We spent last week in South Carolina, in the place we got married, this time with a nearly-one-year-old in tow (see above). The babe ate sand, threw sand, poured sand, went for backpack walks, played with the grandparents and tasted hushpuppies!
This is his reaction when told we had to leave:

And, proof that he is growing is here:

Once upon a time....

2007-03-21T20:35:00.000-04:00

Baby Romblestone is nearing the big ONE, and that's set me to thinking about his arrival in this world. I'll try to avoid too much graphic Ewww factor, but be forwarned that there's lots of um...liquid involved in the birth process.
The Friday before the babe was born I went in for a check-up, had elevated blood pressure and the ol' cervix was 1cm dilated. I was told I could go into labor at any moment, and I shouldn't be on my feet too much. Except, the very next week I was to be involved in a series of interviews for the fellowship I now hold. I asked the little guy to wait just a few days and went ahead with the interviews, sitting as often as possible. I did leave the tags on my purchased-at-the-last-minute maternity interview clothes, just in case I never made it to an interview. (Note of foreshadowing and irony...when I told the OB-Gyn I made arrangements to get rides back from DC so I wouldn't be on the Metro too much, I was told, "No first baby is ever born in a cab...they don't come that quickly")
So I got through three days of interviews, exhausted and slightly bleary-eyed, hoping they'd figure any fogginess on my part was due to imminent birthing. On Thursday morning of the interview week, I arrived early for my one and only interview that day and it seemed to go well. I took the metro back to Virginia and then ran a few errands....the cat had an abscess on his tail, so I took him to the vet to have it drained and got some antibiotics. (So there! those of you who think I am now neglecting the cats!) I took a shirt back to the maternity store because I was done with the interviews. I checked my emails and thought about what would need to be done for the classes I was teaching. I drove to the metro to pick up Daddy Romblestone. And I was pretty sure I'd released the "mucus plug" in the toilet.
Daddy R. and I had dinner that night, and I kept feeling these twinges in my lower abdomen. I wandered about, Daddy R. looking at me suspiciously, until I told him I thought I was having contractions. We began timing them, I paced, and then my water broke. I changed my pants and underwear and we were OFF to the hospital. (Note, if this ever happens to you, don't change your clothes. In the hospital they won't believe that your water broke and will just assume you wet yourself)
We were rushed through the emergency room and I was wheeled upstairs to the delivery room, where I got naked and covered with a tiny sheet, and spent as much time on my hands and knees as possible. This, of course, much to the chagrin of Nurse Meanie who kept trying to stick an IV into me. I told her I didn't want an epidural, and then once I started moaning a little she asked "Oh, do you want that epidural now?". I told her no, and then, ha ha, she checked me and realized I was fully dilated and ready to pop out a baby. (This was only about 2.5 hours after I'd felt the first twinge I'd call a contraction) Of course, there was no doctor in the room yet; it was 1 in the morning and they'd assumed that a first baby wouldn't be in a hurry, so that Lamaze breathing came in super handy as they told me to wait...and wait....and wait....and wait...(And thank goodness at that point for Nurse Competent, who told Nurse Meanie to back off!)
Finally the doctor arrived, sat right down and out (push, push, push) came baby Romblestone. I then proceeded to gush blood and other stuff, at which point Daddy Romblestone nearly fainted. I swear I heard "We've got a bleeder!" and I may have laughed, because that seemed sooo ER. They poked me with a few needles and finally, we saw this:

Totally worth it.

(sub) urban jungle

2007-03-13T21:17:00.000-04:00

Hi there!

I've been a little busy...work and all, and we've all had a cold that's knocked us out!!!
At least daddy Romblestone and I know how to blow our noses....poor little baby Romblestone just toddles around with snot all over his face. We try to wipe it off, but he screams bloody murder and it just gets smeared in his hair. Mmmmm snotty hair gel.
On Sunday we had our first mommy and me swim class. He loved it! I should have photos soon, but he was just a splashin' and a kickin' away. I'm thinkin' we might need to move to a beach!
In other news...baby's finally getting a tooth!

The photo's blurry 'cuz he wasn't too interested in sharing this with the world.

And, we got a Backpack!!! yep, that's us, hiking the wilds of Northern Virginia. Maybe we'll get out to the real wilds soon. Before mosquito season begins.

Not much else, plastic containers are still soooooo cool,
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and we call this face "squish".

Gratitude

2007-02-22T20:38:00.000-05:00

As I mentioned before, I was in Nicaragua for a week for work. As I was taken from the airport to the hotel in a shuttle, we passed rows of corrugated tin shacks, places I knew had no electricity or running water. And outside the shacks I saw mothers and babies and my reaction to this is forever altered because of my new role as mommy. Indeed, my whole world view has changed. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to care for an infant in a one-room shack without electricity or water. The process of washing the cloth diapers in the river alone is mind-boggling. And yet, this was baby care for centuries.
Sacajawea is my new hero. Do you know she gave birth right before the journey with Lewis and Clark, and then led them into "unknown" territory with a newborn?? Did they stop every couple of hours so she could breastfeed?
And I remember a visit to Mesa Verde when I was young. You know, the place with all the houses on a cliff. What must it have been like to care for a crawling baby there?? When I read books now about historical events or other countries, I can't help but wonder, "But what is it really like, for the mothers, the babies??" What do they (did they) use as diapers? How do they soothe the baby? What did the babies play with? How did you keep them from falling off the cliffs? And what did you feed them?
Speaking of feeding; meet Sylvan the Barbarian(doesn't he look fierce?): (yup, that's a chicken bone in his mouth...)

2007-02-14T20:14:00.000-05:00

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

When we woke up this morn, there was snow and ice everywhere and the sight of the neighbors sliding down the street was enough to make me say, uh uh! I ain't goin' into work! Besides, it was valentine's day! So I spent the snowy day with my two valentines, who had a little fun of their own:

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Stochastic thoughts...

2007-02-07T20:22:00.000-05:00

<--You know it's cold in the house when you see this!!

Here are some photos of the baby that's trying to eat the world. Well, yes, we DO think he's the cutest baby in the world. But of course we would never be so rude as to say so!

I spent last week in Nicaragua for work; it was great to spend some time speaking Spanish, but I missed the family, especially the little one. So when I had a chance I went shopping for him and bought this: Can't you just see him on the beach, dancing merengue??

Mark my words

2007-01-23T20:24:00.000-05:00

OK, I know you're really just interested in the baby...so there are photos scattered here. The rest of this post is just me rambling about things that go through my head as I commute.
We are witnessing the extinction of a word. It is happening right now, all around you, as I write, as you speak. I am not particularly saddened by this, because I believe that languages, like biological organisms, are meant to grow, adapt and evolve. But we should say goodbye to the word "fewer". Goodbye.

I hear, on a nearly daily basis, the word "less" subsituted for fewer. I hear it on NPR, among colleagues, on the street, man. Examples: "So we shouldn't be concerned if there are less bald eagles in a few decades". "Less students were able to pass the test last year than in previous years". "The tree produced less apples than before". In all cases, "less" refers to something that is countable, and, according to the prissy rules of grammar, should really be "fewer". "Less" is supposed to be reserved for uncountable items; less support, less money (but fewer dollars), less enthusiasm. Apparently, though, "fewer" no longer serves a purpose in our language and is slowly disappearing. Adios, "fewer", have a good time with the other extinct words off in word heaven. And say hello to poplollies and bellibones for me, ok?

(Sylvan isn't sure about snow. "Less" snowy days might be OK with him!)

Doe a deer...

2007-01-10T20:45:00.000-05:00

Having a baby has brought out my inner chanteuse. I know, you thought a pitcher of beer and the slightest mention of karaoke did that. But now, now I sing to the kid ALL THE TIME. I can't help it. Sometimes I sing "real" songs to him...but the problem is I don't really remember the lyrics. So I'll sing "One little ant went out to play upon a spider's web one day" And then I'll remember it's actually "One elephant went out to play..." and I'll think that's weird, but better, because singing about little ants on spider webs just makes me think of what's going to happen to those poor unsuspecting little ants as the spider sucks out their juices and wraps them in a silk shroud. Of course, "One elephant" is boring and soon becomes "One Cheerio went out to play upon little Sylvan's tongue one day. He had such enormous fun that he called for another Cheerio to come".

Another favorite is this conversation: "Come on baby, let's go downstairs... (Sing with me...) Downstairs! Where all the lights are on, Downstairs! Where all your toys are waiting for you....Downstairs! (Huh. YOU don't have "Downtown..." running through your head?)

And probably the all time best so far is
"Handsome boy with the booger in his nose,
he's got five fingers, he's got five toes,
my handsome boy with the booger in his nose!
Watch his belly, watch how it grows,
my handsome boy with the booger in his nose!
Oh yeah etc. etc."

Someday he'll understand me and that will be unfortunate.

Please tell me I'm still a better mommy than Britney!

2007-01-07T11:54:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year!
Happy Nine Months to Sylvan!!

And it's been nearly a month since I posted. Now I'm at the point that so much has happened I want to share it all, but realize that's too much for one post and I get overwhelmed and tired just thinking about it and avoid it altogether. A problem in the rest of my life too.
Anyway, we made it back West for Christmas; a great time was had by all and the little guy did extremely well on the plane!!! We spent New Year's at the neighbors...the babe stayed up until 11:30 and ALMOST got to see the ball drop. And then he slept in until 9 the next day!!! Best baby EVER!!
The most exciting thing to happen recently though was a little accident. I fell. While. holding. the.baby. I went to the Salvation Army in a nearby town to look for baby clothes. I got out of the car, put him in the Bjorn baby carrier, locked the car, took two steps and tripped. In slow motion I see myself trying to regain my balance and failing. And I then fall. Face forward. I land on the ground and see my baby's head on the pavement next to me. I don't want to pick him up momentarily for fear of what I'll see. I sit up and he begins to scream as passersby stare at me. (Oh, don't worry, I just nearly squished my baby like a grape. Don't offer to help. See if I care!) Finally I was able to calm him (and myself) down and realized he just got a little scrape on his lip and forehead. I think I fell sideways and thankfully most of the damage occured on my hand and knee. Well, I guess we'll know what to blame it all on..."remember that time you tripped and fell with the baby? That must be why he got a C in chemistry!"
In other news, the spudlet is crawling. And pulling up on furniture. I see steps and a lot more tripping and falling and scrapes in our future. If he's anywhere near as graceful as mommy maybe we should buy him a helmet.
Here's a few photos for them that really just want to see the baby... (See the horrible, disfiguring scrape above his lip in photo 1???) (Photo 2...a little lunchtime fun with the baby. BTW, Earth's Best teething biscuits are really best eaten in just a diaper, with a bath afterward)

Goblin Thief??

2006-12-08T09:26:00.000-05:00

We went to our first holiday party last weekend. Sylvan met Santa... "My, Santa, your beard is much bigger than daddy's!!"

And we discovered our son has rogue talents. Notice the cute little boy below. Where is his pacifier? In his mouth, where it should be.

Now notice where our friend's pacifier is! Perhaps our son has a bright future as a corporate executive...

Feliz Dia Del Pavo

2006-11-28T20:10:00.000-05:00

A Thanksgiving Haiku

We're grateful for these:
Mommy and Daddy: Sylvan
Sylvan: Cheerios

Moooo....

2006-11-19T20:08:00.000-05:00

Because Alice at Finslippy seems to be able to take all of my thoughts and weave them into beautiful tapestries while all you'd get from me would be lopsided dishrags, please check out her post at Wonderland; it's about the recent brouhaha over a woman (gasp!) breastfeeding her 22 month old on a plane. Apparently some people have a problem with BIP (breastfeeding in public) at all, and some with the fact that the baby was over a year old. I think these folk's energy would be better spent protesting the wearing of low-slung jeans with thong underwear. But that's just me, maybe.

Nowadays, with work and all, I'm not travelling around with a baby attached to me 24/7. But for five months I did. And, unfortunately, all of the comments I ever received about breastfeeding were negative. The one time I ventured to the mall he screamed after strolling through only one store and I sat down in a quiet sunken bench area, with a little rock wall behind and beside me and nursed him in the hope that he'd calm down enough to let me get out of the mall and get home. While I nursed, as discreetly as possible, the three teenage girls across from me discussed LOUDLY how "disgusting" breastfeeding is. Then there was the (female!!) dentist I met who, in nearly the same breath told me she had two pet peeves; parents feeding their children soda and women breastfeeding in public. (!!) When I confronted her, she said, "Well, you could pump couldn't you?" Hmm....yes. I could pump in the same disgusting bathroom you'd apparently rather have me feed my baby in. Or I could lug my $200 pump around with me everywhere, because that'd be so much better than just lugging my big boobs around!
Anyway, the indignant might want to join us in a protest.
Thanks.

The fruit wins...

2006-11-05T10:08:00.000-05:00

I tried to make a costume for the little one this year...he was supposed to be a chili pepper (Hot Stuff!) It worked out OK, though people thought he might be a tomato...or a jester. The photo didn't turn out well, though. And given how cute he looks in some other outfits, maybe he should have been a rancher...or a blueberry...
(I had a little too much fun at the RockYou site...sorry if the leaves are distracting)

Create Your Own!

(And my apologies to Suzyhulahoop for blatantly copying the Halloween-photos-via-RockYou-vehicle)

Better than Prozac?

2006-10-26T21:15:00.000-04:00

So the other day, I was walking down the street in downtown D.C. and stopped at a light. The man next to me was wearing headphones and singing to himself. He and I were the only two people waiting for the light at that exact moment. Mr. Headphones began singing loudly "Mmmm. mmm. baby, I'm in the moooo-ooood. Oh yeah, baby, I want to take a shower with you-ou-ou. Yeah, soap me up and I'll soap you up, mmm-hmmm. Rub me in hot oil baby, and I'll rub you in hot oil too, oh yeah..." I thought, "Oh please let the light change, and soon!". Now, I can't be sure if he was really singing along to an honest-to-god song or not. I just know it was a little creepy. But, headphones and hands-free cell phone devices have allowed us all to just speak out whatever is on our minds, no questions asked. I used to talk to myself all the time in the car; mostly I'd have arguments with people I'd NEVER be gutsy enough to argue with in real life. Now I can just pop something in my ear, pretend to be speaking to someone on the other end, and I'll get all that agression out AND creep out anyone in a 10 foot radius too! Brilliant!

Applesauce and Pumpkins

2006-10-12T20:08:00.000-04:00

Hi blogworld! Did you miss me? I missed you. I resolve to post more often....
Meanwhile, little baby Romblestone is having a great time. Two weeks ago he had his first taste of something other than rice/oatmeal pap. This was his initial reaction.

Yeah, we thought applesauce might not be such a big hit...but now he opens his little birdie mouth for both the applesauce AND the sweet potato. Tomorrow we introduce carrots! Oh the excitement!
Last weekend we went to our first fall family function. Sylvan met goats and parrots and pigs and cows and ponies and enormous pumpkins oh my!

Good Times

2006-09-27T20:36:00.000-04:00

Hi Ya'll

As part of this "Mrs. Romblestone goes to Washington" experience, I'm learning lots of things that I should've learned in Civics. In my defense, the Internet did not exist when I was in highschool (at least not as it is now) and I never would have known about this site.
If you go there and choose, say, APHIS (Animal and Plant Health Inspection Services) and look at all of their documents both open and closed for public comment, you will be amazed at how many people exercise their right to comment on proposed rules! Some folks, a certain b. sachau in particular, are mighty displeased with the job APHIS has done. It actually makes for some entertaining reading! And kinda makes you want to get a little more involved, don't it?

In other news, Baby Romblestone has learned to use a sippy cup! Of course, we have to hold it...he's not THAT advanced, but he drinks the old water in it right down.

Mommy who?

2006-09-18T21:17:00.000-04:00

I thought I should at least put these photos up, even if I haven't much time to write. As you can see the sprout is growing nicely. Seems pretty happy, too. He was cared for by Grandma R. for about a week once I started work. I may have more separation anxiety than he does at this point. I'm still trying to figure out what it means NOW for me to be his mommy. For 5 months it meant doing everything for him. Now I spend nearly 11 hours a day away from him. What does it mean to be "Mommy" when I only see him 3 hours a day? I'm out earning money so I can give him shelter, food, etc, but I still wonder where this will take our relationship. Daddy is having a great time with him, though, even if he does seem exhausted at the end of the day!
Next post I'll tell ya'll about the exciting places I've pumped breastmilk!

Edisto dreamin'

2006-09-01T14:14:00.000-04:00

Just a few photos from the recent trip to S. Carolina... The week went by way too quickly!

My summer vac...I mean Maternity Leave

2006-08-29T13:15:00.000-04:00

Ok, another post about motherhood. What, you expected something else?
In one week, I begin working. I'm scared poopless. I'm NOT ready. Can't I have another month? two? one hundred? A part of me is excited to begin this fellowship of mine...but I've gotten pretty used to my routine with the little one. That said, this has not been the most RELAXING of maternity leaves. When I gave birth I was still technically teaching at a community college. The week I had Sylvan, though, I was involved in a series of interviews for a fellowship in DC that trains science PhD's in the process of policymaking. I had Sylvan on a Friday. On Sunday I called my colleagues at the college to let them know I wouldn't be finishing out the semester. Despite my attempts earlier to prepare them for the possibility I might have the baby early, his arrival surprised us all. So, that first week he was home I spent every nap on the computer emailing tests and quizzes to my substitutes and replying to indignant student emails. I also spent each day on the phone with the fellowship folks trying to decide which fellowship offer to accept. (I'm not sure I made many coherent decisions that week) By the third week of Sylvan's life my mother was here and she and I spent two afternoons grading exams and papers while baby slept in his swing. I spent the next week working on grades and entering them all in the computer. Meanwhile, all of this involved weekly drives to campus to get the papers, exams, etc. Then there was the manuscript to finish. In the weeks before baby was born I was frantically trying to finish up a paper. As soon as the college duties were done, I started in on the paper, spending each of Sylvan's naps writing and editing. The lack of sleep added to the excitement of all of this. By the end of June, all of this was done and I could concentrate solely on Sylvan. Two months of all baby, all the time. I'd gotten so used to feeling that there was something I HAD to do, though, that I couldn't relax. I tried. I'd lie down with a book while he napped, read a page, think of something I had to do and get up again. Slowly I was able to begin to relax and then I went a little overboard, I think. I did nothing all day but play with him and read or sleep during his naps. I felt guilty for not doing anything around the house, but luckily Papa Romblestone is very understanding.
So now all of this comes to an end. And I begin a new job. In DC. Last week we were sent a book to read before orientation, along with a schedule for the orientation week. It's pretty cute...with all of our schedules they tell us what to wear (business attire). I think they're afraid that the ecology PhD's from California will show up in jeans and Birkenstocks. So I have a new wardrobe (I'm still a size larger than pre-baby). Jackets and slacks and stuff. I feel a little ridiculous in the clothes...like I'm 16 dressing up as an adult. Maybe I'll get used to it. But will I get used to not seeing the baby all day? I don't know.
BUT, we did make a decision as to who WILL see the baby all day. Papa Romblestone talked to his boss yesterday, prepared to resign and become stay-at-home dad. Mr. Bossman was very generous, though, and offered an option of part-time work from home! And then our neighbor called and said she was interested in providing part-time daycare for a very reasonable rate. So, Papa will be a stay-at-home dad most of the week, but little Baby Romblestone will still have a chance to socialize and be with other babies while daddy keeps his foot in the career door. Now there's just that pesky insurance problem to deal with....

Life ain't textbook

2006-08-28T12:58:00.000-04:00

Well, this was going to be a post about our recent trip to South Carolina, where we spent a wonderful, way-too-short week on Edisto island. However, I'm having some technical difficulties uploading photos, and no vacation slide show is complete without the slides!!
So, this will be another photo-less post. More pictures of the babe to come, I promise!
So this is a post about motherhood.
Before actually giving birth, I thought a lot about what it would be like to have a child. We read some books, watched folks around us and tried to imagine life as three. Parenting styles tend to fall loosely into two camps, far as I can tell. There's the attachment/babywearing/mom stays home/breastfeeding OF COURSE/baby sets the tone parenting, and then there's the baby-scheduling/stroller/formula feeding/baby doesn't change your life parenting. We fall much more naturally into the first category. I was going to breastfeed, OF COURSE, for as long as possible. Two years? Three? NO problem. The evil formula was NOT going to cross my baby's lips. I even gave away a can of the free formula the hospital gives out to some friend who adopted a baby. We were ready with a sling, a Bjorn, a Snugli and a Mexican cloth wrap to carry the baby until he was 16. Or maybe older. I did have fantasies, though, of wheeling him through IKEA in a stroller when I wanted out of the house. (IKEA's baby-friendly, dontcha know) He'd be an easy-going traveller, of course, and we'd take hikes on the weekend with him in a wee backpack. We bought a complete set of (organic!) cotton cloth diapers and read all about homemade baby food. What else would you expect from folks who made their own fruit wine and raised backyard chickens?
Well, Sylvan came along with his own ideas. Apparently HE never read the baby books. Or else he'd know that MOST babies like the car, and the stroller. No trips to IKEA (or anywhere else!) for us. No backpack hiking...because you have to ride in the evil car to get out to the places to hike! He did read the chapter on baby-wearing though, and decided that was the way to go. So I became an attachment parent almost without planning to. As for the cloth diapers though... Well, the cloth diapers give him an awful rash. The disposables don't. That's it. I hate the thought of filling up the landfills with diapers, but I hate the thought of fighting the rash for the next 3 years even more. We could spend lots of money trying out different brands, but by the time we find some that work better we could have bought all the disposables he'll ever need at Costco. That leaves breastfeeding. I was sure that would work well. Pregnancy was a breeze for me...I had the fastest, easiest birth ever and I just knew that the little guy would latch on and I'd be producing gallons of milk for him. He'd chub up in no time. In the hospital things were going well. He latched on like a champ and the lactation consultant said he was doing great. Well, naturally, what else would you expect? Then we got home. And the acid reflux started. And I spent the first month camped out on the sofa feeding him sometimes for 7 hours straight. I'm not kidding. He ate continuously and then screamed while eating because it hurt. And then he'd want to eat more, because he was still hungry and because the milk was soothing. Except then it would hurt again and the vicious circle continued. Until he was 3.5 months old he'd spend every evening from 5-10 eating every half hour and screaming in between. I began to wonder if he was getting enough milk. No one accepted the possibility that he might not be. The dogma is, if you feed often enough you will naturally produce enough for the baby. To add to my insecurity, he's continued to be thin...in the 10th percentile for weight. (But the 70th for height. I gave birth to a noodle.) So now we give him a bottle of formula in the evening and he no longer screams for 5 hours. Once I begin work he'll probably get even more formula because my pumping options will be limited, and I don't get much out when I pump anyway. I read stories of women who continue breastfeeding through mastitis, cracked and bleeding nipples and more. Good for them. I've realized that it's not about me and whether I can say I breastfed for X amount of time and endured so much pain. It's about the baby and if he does better in disposable diapers and half his nutrition comes from formula, that's how it's going to have to be, as much as it galls me. At least he likes the organic baby cereal!!

Of leaves and fruit and sex

2006-08-16T11:23:00.000-04:00

Random thoughts...

As many of you know (as many of you imaginary people reading this??? As far as I know only two people read this blog, but thank you, oh thank you for the comments!)
Anyway, as many of you know, I LOVE words. Love them. Love the way they sound, look and feel in my mouth and ears. I love English words and Spanish words, German, Russian and Quechua words. And, I am fascinated by the history of words...
A little meandering through the etymological dictionary brings us to VAGINA...a word we all know as a part of female anatomy. This word comes from the latin "vagina" meaning "resembling a sheath". Hmm..."sheath" seems so androcentric. Given my recent baby-passing experience, I think a word meaning "portal" or "passageway" might be more appropriate. Ok, turn a few more pages and there's VANILLA which comes to us in English via the Spanish VAINILLA, "little pod" which in turn is diminutive for the word VAINA meaning "sheath" ("vaina" is derived from, you guessed it, VAGINA!) So, vanilla sort of means little vagina...except that vanilla pods are long and skinny and so much more phallic than vaginal. But it IS a pod, a fruit bearer, and oh so female in that way. Moving on...SYCOPHANT, one of my favorite words. According to my etymological dictionary this word, meaning essentially "tattletale", comes from the Greek SYKON (vulva, fig) and PHANTES (one who shows). Robert Barnhart claims it meant originally "one who makes the insulting gesture of the "fig", that is sticking the thumb between two fingers. (the relationship between vulva and vagina are what bring us back full circle). However, I looked into the history of sycophant many years ago and another dictionary claimed that in Mesopotamia fig harvests were taxed and so you didn't show the tax collector how many figs you had. Someone kissing up to the tax collectore might show your secret stash (showing the figs) and that would make him a SYCOPHANT (informer a.k.a kiss ass). And since we're just randomly connecting thoughts, SYKON may mean vulva or fig, but don't figs really look like part of the male anatomy? And don't fig leaves cover up the naked parts of Adam in Eve in all the depictions of Eden? Oh, fig, you naughty tree, you!

Mmmm...mmmm

2006-08-15T17:26:00.000-04:00

Little baby Romblestone had his first bite of solid food on Sunday. He did very well!! Pulled the nearly-liquid rice cereal off the spoon with his gums like a pro. All the while looking at us like, “It’s about damn time! I’ve been watching you all eat for months and wondering when it was my turn!” On Monday, he grabbed the spoon and helped! For now, though, he still seems more interested in chewing on his bib than anything else. BUT, this small step for babykind means we’re one step closer to retiring the old milk-machines. Whoopee!

To Do List

2006-08-10T10:40:00.000-04:00

A typical day with baby Cashew...

4am Hear little noises over the monitor. Wonder if he's going to wake up even though he's been sleeping until about 7 for a month now. Wonder if he's cold? hot? hungry? Doze lightly until 6.

6-7am Get up, dress, eat breakfast, etc.

7-7:30am Wake up baby if he's not up yet. Change diaper, breastfeed.

7:30-8:30am Play with baby in exersaucer, on floor, have naked baby time (for that darn persistent diaper rash). Worry that I'm not giving him enough stimulation and he's never going to graduate from high school, let alone get into Harvard. Play more, worry that I'm over- stimulating him and that he'll have ADHD before preschool.

8:30-9am Breakfast #2

9-9:30am Walk around the house, say hi to all household objects. Go for walk if it's nice outside. Sweep, do dishes, dust while baby sits in infant chair watching.

9:30-10am Breakfast #3

10-11am Nap #1 (Can last from one hour to four. I LOVE four hour naps!! One hour naps, not so much)

11-12noon If baby's asleep, check email, post to blog, play on internet. (Repeat until baby wakes up. Make phone calls, do laundry, etc. if he's really asleep)

Afternoon When baby wakes up it's time for lunch. Then, more playing with the usual accompanying worry (see above) If we're feeling really ambitious, I'll leave the house in the car and go to a store. While in the car, baby screams the whole way. In the store as long as he's carried he's happy. The other day I tried on pants in Target WITH the baby on me in the Bjorn. So many new skills as a mommy!

Afternoon snacks (from the breast) at 1, 3, 4, 5pm

5pm Think, Daddy's getting off work and will be home soon! Yaay! Take another tour of the house with the baby. Exersaucer, 10 minutes. Floor, 10 minutes. Wonder WHY is baby always fussy this time of day? What could he want?

6pm Daddy's home!

Evening snacks (more boob juice) 6, 7, 8pm Eat dinner in 5 minutes with baby sitting in high chair watching. Can't wait till he can join in!

9pm Rock baby to sleep and sing the sleepy song (pay attention...it took me a long time to write): Go to sleep, go to sleep, please go to sleep little one, go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep my little son...please go to sleep, go to sleep right now, please go to sleep, go to sleep baby boy.

Whew.

Aaaaw....

2006-08-07T12:22:00.000-04:00

Baby Romblestone hates being in the car. I call him my little environmentalist. He loves being carried while we walk; hates cars. The quickest way to take him from happy baby to screaming, inconsolable, all out miserable is to put him in the car and drive any more than 5 minutes. But, to get anywhere around here you gotta drive. So, on Saturday we went to visit the grandparents in DC (half an hour away). Baby fussed most of the way there, of course. We ate dinner with the grandfolks and left their house around 8:30...figuring it would be bedtime soon and he'd MAYBE fall asleep in the car. As soon as we took off his little hand grasped my finger in a death grip and THE WHOLE WAY HOME he stared into my eyes as if to say..."save me, mommy, save me". My heart broke into a million little pieces. I think they're stuck to the car's upholstery and will stay there forever and set up house with the cat fur. I'm thinking about becoming Amish.

Oh the longing

2006-08-04T14:05:00.000-04:00

I miss Davis. I miss it with a deep sense of longing and homesickness. And I have to admit to this with some sheepishness, since I claimed to be so excited to leave. But I thought I was leaving for something different. I had that job, see, and I was going to spend all day looking at fungi under a microscope (yaay!) and live 2 miles from my job (yaay!) and I was looking forward to that. But then things changed. It’s as if I asked you to go to the store and buy me some Oreos. I’d wait for you to come back and I’d be dreaming about those Oreos...their sickly super-sweet goodness, the way little black bits cling to your teeth for hours, their oh-so-perfect pairing with milk. But when you return from the store you tell me, “They were out of Oreos, so here are some Ritz crackers instead”. OK, so the crackers are still round and full of carbs and fat, but they’re NOT what I was craving and they’ll leave that dry, synthetic aftertaste anyway. So, I spent the six months before we moved here dreaming about Oreos and now I have Ritz crackers. I’m still hoping to find the Cheezwhiz to make them bearable. For now, I still miss the place that is the closest I’ve ever had to home. I miss my house. I spent seven years there! I miss the shed I put together with my brother. I miss the patio I built with my mom and dad. I miss the yard I transformed from boring grass to eight raised beds. I miss the apple, plum, pomegranate and cherry trees. I miss the chickens. I miss the mediterranean climate. I miss the lavender and lemon verbena I planted in the front yard under the locust tree. I watched them grow from spindly little seedlings to great huge bushes. I miss the perennials I planted in a lawn that had been used as a parking space by the owner before me. I miss the Pergo floor I installed and the vinyl floor in the kitchen I finally had installed shortly before leaving. I miss biking or walking everywhere (very, very ,very much!). I miss knowing where to find edible mushrooms in town. I miss the path I used to jog on. I miss knowing where everything was. I miss knowing the history of a place that had been a part of my life for 20 years. Many of the people I knew there are gone, or leaving. I miss them too, but in a different way. I still miss the place, like I’ve never missed a WHERE in my life. So, for all of you who thought I’d miss Davis, you were right. You told me so. I do.

They've got my whole world in their hands

2006-08-01T12:38:00.000-04:00

Incidentally, Kaiser, caesar and czar all share the same word origin. For me, this means a person or organization that has the power to totally ruin my life!!

When we moved here last year we immediately applied for individual health insurance (because the job I SHOULD have had fell through, remember?) through Kaiser Permanente. After applying, I got pregnant (a pre-existing condition...even though it’s temporary!) and we spent many a night biting our nails wondering if the great Kaiser would allow us to be protected under its wing. We were finally accepted (woohoo!!) and I began the prenatal visits. Then Ben got a job and we were accepted into the world of group health care coverage, lulled into thinking that our needs would be taken care of, that Kaiser really, truly wants us to, as they say IN THEIR ADS, thrive. Then the baby was born and we fell in love. And began to think about his future. And how it may not be so good for mommy and daddy to spend all day in DC while he’s in daycare here (an hour away). My future employment doesn’t offer health insurance, though, so we re-applied to Kaiser as individuals. And they DENIED us!! Because while we were covered we got a couple of prescriptions. So, Kaiser really doesn’t want us to thrive. They want us to spend our days full of guilt for leaving our baby in daycare and everyone knows that babies left in daycare grow up to be delinquents and chainsaw murderers! We’re appealing their decision. I don’t think Mr/Mrs underwriter out there really understands his/her absolute power over the lives of three people here.

About us

2006-07-31T20:31:00.000-04:00

So, we've been the Romblestones since September 2004. Of course, we never did officially change our names, but it's a combination of my name and darling husband's name and it just fits. Plus it sounds a lot like the Flintstones. And since April 2006 we have our own little Bam-Bam. (See photo!)We live in the greater Metro DC area...moved here to be close to family and for a job. Well, AFTER we had bought a house here and AFTER we'd totally rearranged our lives, my former boss-to-be called up and "let me go" before the job had even begun. This was the beginning of a long string of obstacles to our general happiness.
Here we are, then. I begin a fellowship in September that will last for at least one year. A great opportunity, we hope. Hubby works in DC, just around the corner from my fellowship-to-be. BUT, that may soon change. You see, we're thinking about role reversing and having him stay home with the baby, at least 3 days a week. Whaddya think? Biggest problem is health insurance. Maybe that's another post altogether.
Anyway, having a baby has really changed our lives, OF COURSE. And since I do nothing but think about the baby these days, I was meandering through the etymological dictionary the other day and found the roots of the words TYKE and URCHIN.
TYKE originally (since about 1378) meant cur or mongrel (from the old Icelandic "tik" meaning bitch). The meaning of "child" for tyke didn't appear until 1894. URCHIN has its origins way back from Latin (ericus=hedgehog) through Middle English urchoun=hedgehog. The word was then applied to poorly or raggedly clothed children in the 1500's. But hedgehogs are so cute! And bumbly! and not bratty at all! [All etymological references from the Barnhart Concise Dictionary of Etymology]
I suppose that's enough for now. Future musings are sure to include health insurance, breastfeeding and what the words vagina, vanilla and sycophant have in common!

testing, testing 123

2006-07-28T15:38:00.000-04:00

My first blog post! I think this may be just what the therapist ordered. I've often kept a journal, but the thought of others reading my oh-so-not-wise comments, rants and random whininess may keep me out of the realm of self-pity wallowing and yet allow me to share my world with friends, relatives and others. Stay tuned for days in the lives of Mama, Papa and Baby (otherwise known as Cashew) Romblestone...