Tuesday, September 30, 2008

The key to brilliant babies. Our Marpac Sleepmate 980 A


So you have ascertained by now that the Sleepmate I am referring to above is not my handsome husband. No---the "our" is Whoozyerbaby and I. One night in a fit of madness triggered by Whoozyerkid's 2 AM summer cough and her close proximity to my bed I decided that my world would be a better place with the best white noise machine Amazon.com reviews could assess and recommend. The Sleepmate 980-A looked a little outdated but I figured over 200 cumulative Amazon reviews couldn't go wrong--4.5 Amazon stars.

I never expected to see this machine---which looks like factory surplus from the 80's--in another home--but--lo and behold while at Shaken Mama's abode keeping an eye on baby G for a spell I spotted that antiquity on Jeege's nursery floor. I set Whoozyerbaby on the floor to change Jeege's diaper and Whoozyerbaby crawled over, flipped the switch and turned it off. And if you read Shaken Mama's fabulous blog you'll know how stinking smart Jeege is.

Yes folks. I think that's the link. The Marpac Sleepmate 980 A helps little brains grow and develop at an accelerated pace. If you can get over the design (it's the aesthetic cousin to the Commodore 500 personal computer) it's a cognitive coup.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

It's not cheese...



It's beautiful slippery, lathery soap. The feel of it on my skin; it's like the difference between Potato Buds and Yukon Gold Mashed Potatoes made with Strauss Family Creamery heavy cream and butter, roasted garlic and Fleur de Sel; the quality is felt gliding across my body as it would over my taste buds.

And the scents; from lavender to anise--to petitgrain and orange, bay and rosemary--I know that inside of me is a person who can mix scents and textures to make soap in my basement the way I make dinner in my kitchen. Watching Lori Nova of The Nova Studio deftly creating soap today confirmed the instinct that sudsy bars for me may just be the thing. People---do you see the soap she made? Shower with it and you'll see why I am practically giddy. Watch Lori make soap and you'll see why I am feeling so high.

I'm great at flavors and good at timing in the kitchen and I know without thinking just what to do to make a perfect risotto. Why haven't I made a career out of cooking? The product is fleeting, I'm a little picky when it comes to food, cooking is hard on the body and restaurant hours are brutal. The inventory is extremely perishable.

But here, I get to mix and experiment and play and still get a scent and my oh my. Soap, people just might be my thing...who would've thunk?

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Immersed in ounces at the self-serve Coco Swirl


Words can't express how much Whoozyerkid and I just want to pull up a wheeled chair, stick our heads under the spigots at Coco Swirl; mouths agape, wanting, wanting, propelling ourselves left and right and left again like baby birds being fed by multiple mamabirds. Oh. It. Is. So. Good. The homemade mochi, the tart and plain yogurt, the fresh fruit, the CHOCOLATE creaminess. For lunch, dinner, dessert breakfast--whatever. We are lost, hopelessly lost in the swirl.


And it is a certain purgatory we find ourselves in when our cups house just air and our spoons seek cold resistance only to return to our trembling lips empty. Empty. Empty.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Monday, September 22, 2008

No,it can't be...

But it is. Surprise of all surprises the strange rhythmn of a tractor pull in heaven is in actuality Whoozyerdaddy snoring UPSTAIRS. I have yet to confirm that he's in a liplock with the floor but I can claim with confidence that this is not the first time he is asleep on it ; it's happening again and---in a possible honing of his sleep skill-set could be advancing to stomach-on-hardwood sleeping. A remarkable accomplishment and one which we should take a moment to honor in amazed reverance and (my) fear. For it is an awesome sound and most people would believe that my place as his wife is next to him in bed. Not always. Not tonight. And not even on the same floor, my friends. It's sad, but neccessary for my health, sanity and overall effectiveness as a human being.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Good Complaint.

I'm hungry. So hungry. But guess why I can't go downstairs to eat?

My pregnant housecleaner is scouring my kitchen. On her hands and knees. I should feel guilty, very, very guilty. But she cleaned before letting the little darling take over her tiny body and doctors say if you exercised before your pregnancy you can keep on truckin' all throughout gestation.

I think I'll give her some lotion to assuage the guilt. Nice cooling leg lotion. That's what I'll do... See, I'm not such a bad, lazy /employer/lady of the house after all. Right? But I'm still hungry.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Apparently it was just a quick nap...

My beautiful children were tucked into their crib and bed at 9 PM. And just when I endeavored to sleep a turn of events ensued. Yes folks--It's 1 AM in the Whoozyerhouse and the party has just started. God help me:







Could it be this? My child is trying to save me from what happens when I snooze? "When you sleep you look funky and weird after you put things on your face." said Whoozyerkid tonight. Thanks kid. Thanks for that. I also have a "big nose". I guess I should have had that nose job when I had the chance...

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Catch-up

News, news, news; update, update update.

There's part of my brain that believes that you believe you already know everything that's going on in my life. I'm a mother of 2 small children. How exciting could Whoozyermama's life get? Here's what's going on. I am:
  • Living vicariously through my friend's escrow. She managed to sell her home in less than a week. She's on ZipRealty.com shopping for houses, analyzing school districts and finding that there's way too much to obsess over. What a great problem to have. I want to hate you, dear J, but I can't.
  • Thinking about relisting Whoozyerhouse. Will it sell?Is it worth the emotional turmoil? Who do we list it with? Can we get it on the market in time for the historical homes tour next month which our neighbor and former realtor is a part of? Do I want to do this with a crawling baby and Whoozyertasmaniandevilchild underfoot?
  • Wondering what the HELL is going on with the economy? Will I have to learn how to can vegetables and plant a victory garden? Will I have a yard in which to plant said victory garden? Will everyone lose everything except the people they love most and the Made in China shirts on their backs? Will I still have my beloved internet? A comforting thought-- for the meltdown of the world could be that people would stop texting me on my cell phone (folks, I don't have a qwerty pad and I don't plan to get a crackberry.).
  • Wondering when my job will go to Phoenix and how to prepare the inevitable "no thanks, Whoozyerlongtimeemployer, I'm a lily white girl who should never venture in your standard sun--let alone the hot Arizona desert sun" speech--which should go over fantastically with HR. This planning coincides with the logistics of how to get a soapmaking business launched in my laughable spare time and still manage to be a good mother with a good social life. I need to work from home. I need to be accessible to my family. And I like things that smell pretty.
  • Thinking about how I feel awful about hanging up on my sister the other day but still feeling too upset to do anything about it. The mother in me hopes that things will be easier for Whoozyerbaby and Whoozyerkid in their endeavors to stay connected since they have the same WhoozyerBabyDaddy and are closer in age. But, want as you may for your own children you can never control the outcome in your own family. How can we when we can't predict our own relationships? We can only hope.
  • Get back onto http://www.clix-contests.com/ and vote for Whoozyerkids---they made it into the semi semi semi (?) finals thanks to you and their cuteness, of course.
  • We have a new whoozyerbabysitter. But I'm not going to jinx it. So far, so good (knocking on wood). Another Craigslist find. And all woman (although I didn't check).
  • I have a weird cold. The cold that hopefully never becomes full blown but still makes you feel shitty. That's the cold I am hoping for.
  • We have a housecleaner every other Thursday. And she is pregnant. WTF? I didn't clean house when I was pregnant. Why should she? Should I not hire her out of principle? She's cleaning with nontoxics though. That should assuage my guilt. Just a little.
  • Whoozyerkid is flourishing at preschool. She can (sort of) write her name and is telling me all about apples and their different names--Galas, Fujis and Gravensteins. This evening she told me she wants to be a doctor when she grows up "because they have band-aids and they make you feel better." Does WhoozyerMontessori also touch upon HMOs, PPO's and deductibles for their pre-K "Explorers"? It sure would be helpful when open enrollment comes around every year. And as a doctor-hopeful she should become familiar with the system now--kind of like a second language, no? Learn it now and you will become fluent...

Monday, September 8, 2008

My career as a stage-mom

I can't believe I did this.

Yes, I entered my children in a cute kid photo contest. How freaking annoying.

Even worse I am am going to ask you, Dear Reader to register and vote for my progeny:

http://www.clix-contests.com/

In the little searchy-do-hickey type "Concord"

If I need to tell you who the cutest kids ARE--Whoozyerchildren are in photos M35 and M79.

Thanks, and now I must hustle the children off for acting classes, sequin John Benet-gown fittings and baton twirling for babies 101. (NOT!!!!!)

Whoozyerstagemama

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Whoozyerdaddy needs a babysitter to watch him while watching the kids.

So I have started to interview nannies to watch the kids while I take some weekend classes in soapmaking.


Today I had the pleasure of a phone interview with "Giselle". Giselle's voice seems awfully deep for a woman and she's (???) "been through a lot" but is in a "very happy place right now." And children make her (?) very happy right now. She (?) did hair and makeup but there was "too much drama" at the Clinique (?) counter. The youngest of 8 she (?) has watched her nieces and nephews "a lot".





OK---so being in a happy place is good, right? I like happy people in happy places. But Dear God, Woman (?) I don't want to hear about it. Tell me you know CPR and all of the songs from "the Sound of Music"--that you know how to give a baby a bath and clean the fold where her head meets her neck and where the drool collects. Tell me you know how to subdue an out-of-control pitbull at the park and all of the words to "Where is Thumbkin?". Tell me that you love cloth diapers and that it doesn't freak you out that I nurse my babies until they are ready to wean. I want you to know how to draw an elephant and boil pasta al dente. That's all...

So Giselle was getting lunch and we didn't really get into any details. I asked her (?)to call me back after she (?) was done. My parents showed up unexpectedly and I my day was thrown completely out of balance. "I called" said Whoozyergrandma. She had called 60 seconds before their arrival. It doesn't matter...it was nice to see them and they know that I like a pleasant surprise. So I didn't answer my cell when Giselle did call. She(?) called 3 times. I listened to her (?)2 messages, the second of which she (?)used to convey her hope that nothing bad had happened to me. I called her (?) back to reassure her that I hadn't been flushed down the toilet. And she (?) said "Oh good, I worry. I have a problem with worrying. I'm just sure something bad is going to happen to someone I know." 'Oh---well, uh, I'm fine, thanks for your concern. ' I said, warily. "We don't have to talk now---we can talk tomorrow, if you want. I'll call you---or do you want to call me?" she asked. 'I'll...call...you" I answered.




Yeah...




Don't get me wrong. I'd hire a SANE transgendered person; Miss Mary Poppins with electrolosis and gladly accept "A Spoonfull of Sugar"sung cheerily in a lower octave. But maybe I shouldn't call people off of Craigslist:



Hello, my name is Giselle, I have been babysitting since my teens, mostly for
family. A little bit about me( I am fun, loving, caring, energetic, committed,
loyal and a social person). I live in Pleasant Hill by DVC. I am looking for a
good and loving family that could use my help part-time or full-time. I do not
take jobs from overseas, there will be no agreement reached until a formal
interview is had. Online scammers, please don't waste your time;)

Here's one plus about her (?)--if I hired her (?) at least I wouldn't have to worry about my husband falling for the college-aged babysitter...