It's really hot

It's hot like childhood summers of sticky popsicles and lukewarm fans. Like upstairs rooms and sleeping without covers & wet rags stuck to your arms all night while you toss and turn and breathe in nothing but terrible August heat (in July!)

I spent 3 hours rocking Baby J no less than five inches away from two fans - one for his front and one for his back. He had the worst puppy dog eyes as he limply stared at the offensive air. "Why mommy, why?" Basically, son, because plug-in fans conquer heat like a thimble contains the ocean. Do you get my over dramatic, slightly mixed metaphor?

It all means one thing -- I will not go through another summer with children without air conditioning. I recognize I have a child, not children, but heat stroke is leaving me seeing double.

My Workly Week Plan -- Also, My Made Up Language & Foray into Flexible Grammar

Okay, all my co-workers who read this will understand what I'm talking about (and I know at least 2.5 of my co-workers do occasionally meander across this link.)

I have a workly week plan. That's a good example of what sleep deprivation does to my grammar -- I mean, weekly work plan. Jeez. And I turn it in every Monday before I begin to tackle my TO DO list that without the restraints of a weekly work plan would turn into an angry monster who devours me alive and leaves Brent and Baby J into a widower and orphan, respectively. However, that will never happen because I diligently sit down and organize my work hours into very neat categories such as:

1. Goals
2. Tasks / Assignments needed to achieve Goals
3. Calendar - that's where I list all my meetings, tasks, assignments, schedule time to return the 68 calls the red message light is reminding me of on my office phone, etc...

So, as a result I think I'm pretty on top of my work and manage my time effectively. TYVM.

Now, it's beginning to occur to me I may need a similar work plan for my personal life/household on days that I notice the following:

1. I have no time to shower
2. Eighteen piles of laundry are leaving me 68 hate-messages on my voicemail describing in detail what a bad laundry do-er I am.
3. My child's toys are hiding from the chaos and have taken up residence under the sofa.
4. Dinner is a funny joke we heard about once in a fairy tale land.
5. The TV remote is missing for days on end (as opposed to minutes on end pre-baby world) because we are actually TOO BUSY to turn on the TV. Let's have a moment of silence and acknowledge the grief we feel in this statement (wait a minute, the baby's too cute to care! Hurrah for cute babies that cure us of TV addictions! However, I would like to watch a little Tori & Dean, just sayin' -- That's valid because there are babies on that show so it would be educational.)
6. The cats are buying their own cat food and cleaning the kitty litter box in a desperate and ineffective campaign to point out our neglect.

It's a toss up between applying the same dedication to managing my time at work to the rigors of running a household and raising a child OR following my mother's advice: If there is time to fold laundry, there is time to play with the baby. That was her motto -- and I gotta say, it has a nice ring to it.

P.S. -- Katie should probably read this. Katie - I won't print your last name on my blog because, trust me, you don't want to be attached to my crazy crazy BUT you should probably read this, is all. (In case I ever hire professional help! Not that kind, the other kind)

Also: The cat link is Teresa's fault. Teresa Sara Tobin's fault.

Facebook posting turned into spontaneous blog...

Ok --- I'm so glad you asked. I was feeding Jack his bottle and I have this "soothing sounds" cd playing (I got it the dollar tree, don't ask) in the background. He's almost asleep and we are all curled up in the rocking chair. I'm chewing gum and I absentmindedly blew a big pink bubble and then it popped. Jackson's eyes fly open spits milk EVERYWHERE ---he is laughing sooo hard. (I have never heard him laugh like this) So I blow another bubble and he just goes into hysterics. We do this like 37 times on repeat. And then I fall to the floor exhausted with sheer joy. Then of course I posted on Facebook. To me -- very exciting. Too bad my video camera is dead. That is so like me. On a developing note, Jackson is now waking up every 10 minutes in sheer screaming fits like he's having the most terrifying nightmares ever, which I am worried are related to the bubble blowing episodes. I may have to copy and paste this on my blog b/c I'm writing a book here....

VIDEO TO COME

Babies are...

Sticky fingers

Toothless smiles

Reaching for what they know they shouldn't

Too little to wear sunglasses but hate bright light

Opposed to safety straps

Dedicated to grabbing eye glasses, necklaces, earrings, hair...and not letting go

Unable to pet cats correctly

Messy eaters, happy eaters

Not afraid to put gross tasting things in their mouths, like shopping cart handles.