The slow march of death.

One of the kid's at daycare has developed a biting habit. I know, it's pretty common among toddlers, blah blah blah. Meanwhile, it's my kid he's biting with a striking regularity. Warren's not one to make a fuss, so rather than yelling, he just kind of grunts and walks away. Hence, he now has a number of bite-shaped scars on his back and shoulders. The daycare folks are dealing with it pretty well, and doing everything they are legally and ethically required to. But, it still sucks to have to strip my kid down every day and check for bite marks.
Also sucking? It's making Warren more aggressive. When he starts getting angry or frustrated, he goes straight to hitting now. Fun for me and everyone within his arm's reach. It's hard when his vocabulary can't keep up with his feelings. Poor bug. Also, I'm really tired of being slapped in the face.

In developing fetus news, I am officially at 28 weeks, just entering the third trimester. Those who have had a baby will remember this as the "slow march of death." Every day it gets a little harder to do your normal activities. And you can not move in any direction without planning your attack. "Hm, I need to stand up out of this chair. Ok, scootch to the front of the chair, plant your arms, hurl your body mass forward and hope to catch the edge of the desk before momentum carries you back toward the floor. And....go!"

I had my 28 week check up yesterday. I don't have a regular doctor, it's Kaiser and I just don't care anyway. I've met about 5 different doctors and so far, I've liked them all. But for the second check up in a row, the doctor has made a comment about the fetus (I just can't find a fitting nickname for this one. Probably because I'm a horrible person/mother) being a bit on the large size. In fact this one had to keep checking my dates to make sure it was right. "Just how big are we talking here?" I finally asked. "Well, you're one day shy of 28 weeks, and the baby is measuring at 31 weeks." Yes, three weeks ahead. In pregnancy, that's a lot. So, yes, this will likely be another monster sized baby. Yay.

It's sounding all too familiar....Makes me wish I could just get the labor over with already.

Who needs clean clothes anyway?

So, we moved. I hate moving, but am really enjoying the new neighborhood and the new house. This morning Xtian and I got up early, and rode our bikes to explore a little bit. Only 30 restaurants within two miles of our new house, so hurray! I was lamenting the lack of a grocery store nearby all last week. I had thought that I'd just hit the store closer to my work, even though it's a pain in the ass, but at least it's a decent store. Then I took a wrong turn driving home this evening to find a huge store not 3 blocks from my house. Just never had turned that way yet. So, total score. Now let's hope they have a bulk foods section (since that is my saving grace these days).

A quick story about moving in: my mom tried to run a load of laundry when we moved in and instead of washing clothes, the washing machine flooded the entire downstairs hallway. Awesome. We called it in to the property managers who said they'd ask the owner how he'd like to handle it, and is it ok if he contacts me directly. I'm the new tenant, so I say of course, these things happen, thanks for the speedy reply. (Seriously, I got a call-back at 8:01 am Monday morning! These folks, they take care of business). The property owner calls me a few hours later to make sure the washer is actually broken (Because, clearly a flooding machine usually means I don't know how to use a washer, right?) and to tell me that his handyman will be there Wednesday or Thursday. I'm irritated, because, I'm pregnant and thus only have 4 pairs of pants anyway, two of which were filthy from moving and cleaning. But, whatever, we'll live for a few days without clean clothes.
Wednesday the handyman comes to fix the washer. Except, it's not fixed. He did something to it, ran a rinse and spin cycle for 5 minutes and left saying: It's all good.
I came home on Wednesday to find Cory using all the remaining towels in the house to mop up more water from the washing machine. Because it clearly doesn't work. Fine. Call the property managers, who call the landlord who calls me. I'm now pissed off so I ask Xtian to deal with the landlord (who does not have any front teeth. I'm just saying, he has no teeth. Classy guy). Xtian, for those who have never met him in person, is the calmest, kindest most patient man in all creation. The asshole landlord argued with Xtian for 20 minutes saying "But the guy said it's fixed! Why are we making such a big deal out of a minor issue?"
Yes, because it's totally fixed. We're just screwing with you. We want to have as many conversations with a toothless old bastard as possible. And we're horrible people who lie and break washing machines for fun!
So, Thursday passes and the landlord finally calls to say both he and the handyman will be there on Saturday to fix the machine. Fine, a full week of no clean clothes following a move, and oh, did we mention that Warren wears cloth diapers? But manageable.
Saturday arrives, and Xtian shows excellent judgment by kicking me out of the house while the landlord and handyman are there. Because I can no longer be nice. After 4 hours, still no washing machine. They have to buy a new one. Here's the deal: the landlord wanted to save a few bucks, so he bought a used washer and dryer from "some guy." He spent $500 on a 10 year old washer/dryer and never tested it. Just installed it (poorly, the first day we had to shut off the gas because the dryer was leaking GAS!) and moved on. I've got no problem with secondhand goods. But, you know what? I check them first, and I buy from someone I can take it back to when it doesn't work. So, to save a few bucks, landlord ended up spending $500 for the original broken ass washer, $500 in labor for the handyman to come out and try to fix it...twice. And then he still had to spend $800 on a new washer and dryer. That's what I call "cost effective".

Clearly, not the sharpest tool I've ever met. But, in the end, only 10 days after we signed the lease, we finally got to do laundry. Hurray.

Moving. My favorite thing.

We're moving on Saturday. Hurray. We were lucky in that the property manager we were applying with, had once lived in our complex. Thus, she knew firsthand how awful our current company really is. So, we got the place in spite of the asshats running the show over here.
The good news is that the place we're moving to is much bigger than our current place, and way more accessible. The bad news is that our new neighborhood is definitely on the "chain link fence" side of things. Certainly, this isn't West Oakland bad, but not the best neighborhood I've ever lived in. But the plan is, live in this place for a year, then buy something next year. I am really tired of moving and living amongst fuck-it-all-off-white walls.

My mom came down on Saturday to help us pack up some more. I think we're as there as we can be and continue to live for the next few days. I'm glad we're mostly there, but I find it really stressful to be surrounded by boxes. I really want to just get this over with and pack up everything. Soon...so soon.

The best thing about today: the Halloween Reese's combo pack. Oh yes, cups, wafers, pieces, etc. Just fabulous.

If only I could sleep in an upright position.

I have heartburn. what did I eat today to cause this raging heartburn? Oatmeal. Chicken soup. Baked potato. Sheesh, I'm really asking for it, aren't I?

Work has been working me over these days. Lots of hours, lots of projects. So far I think It's all holding pretty well. I've let go of a lot of the cleaning stuff, and so long as I can still put Warren to bed every night and can make dinner at least 5 nights a week, I feel like I'm still fulfilling the needs of my family. Anything above and beyond that is just gravy.

We'll be moving to a new place soon. Our lease is up and I'm so tired of this horrible area. Just so removed from everything, and impossible to get anywhere from here. Of course our current property managers are officially assholes. They refuse to speak with any other property managers until we turned in our notice. And even then, they still won't call back the people we would like to rent from. Seriously annoying. Also they are assholes and rude about the whole thing.

When I called to ask what the deal was, they explained that we have to give notice before we know where we are living. But not to worry, since current tenants get first dibs if they have to rescind their notice. Because, strangely enough, you'd be surprised how often "things fall through." I imagine they are referring to their inability to return a phone call, causing all kinds of tenants to lose out on the homes they actually want to live in.

But, that's neither here nor there.

Where the hell am I?

I am in Salt Lake City, Utah today. Work stuff, really early flight, really long day, but it was good and super productive. Work has been kicking my ass in a ton of different ways. All good, getting things done, but long hours, break-neck pace and all that makes for a kind of tired mama.

Warren is killing me with cute these days. He says things and chatters baby-gibberish at you all day long, telling you stories. I keep finding him parked on the couch, surrounding by all the couch cushions reading Mama Do You Love Me? to himself. Except the only part he knows is the word "mama" so he just mutters that to himself while turning pages and making animal sounds. And then I fall down and die from all the cuteness. Cory started school and seems to be enjoying it. He needs to pick up a couple more classes to be considered full-time and keep up the medical insurance through my work, but all the classes have waiting lists. Ridiculous. Hopefully the classes will thin out a bit this week.

Xtian is doing well, likes his job, is having fun with Warren. He has a few friends here in town so he gets to hang out with some dudes fairly often. And slowly but surely the whole "we are having another kid" thing is becoming a reality for him. It took him a while with Warren too. It's just not very real to him until the thing starts moving around enough for him to see and feel. Well, last night this little alien was doing flips so vigorous I kept getting the wind knocked out of me. I think we've got another dancer on our hands here.

All bets are off whether it's a girl or boy. I feel exactly the same as I did with Warren, the thing is super active, but I keep thinking girl. Of course I thought Wu was a girl too. So clearly, I have no idea. Mostly, I'm just looking forward to another tiny squishy baby who will cuddle with me for more than 8 seconds. Warren's very lovey, but he's ready to RUN after a quick hug and kiss.

You know, I honestly didn't bond with Warren right away. Sure, he was cute, and I loved him, but as he gets older and becomes more like a person, I find myself just absolutely smitten with the kid. I miss him when he's been napping for more than an hour. It feels slightly ridiculous, but it's true. I just can't wait to see him as a big brother and how neat that will be to watch him with a new biscuit.

Weekend goodness

I just had a delightful weekend. Friday we found a daycare provider who is not trying to rob us blind (The only other person who returned my calls wanted $130 a week, when Warren will be there for 6-8 hours a week. Uh-huh.). Good folks with a a handful of kids, one who is Warren's age. I feel good about the people, and frankly that's all I can really hope for.

Saturday we ran a few errands, and went to a kiddo's birthday party. I wasn't sure how Warren was going to do, with all those big kids (the party was for an 8-year old), and the party took place at one of those inflatable bounce-castle places. An entire compound full of those things. At first Warren would not leave the Little Tykes Cozy coupe (you know, the red and yellow little kid cars everyone either had or coveted as a three year old). He sat in that thing and scooted along backward for an hour. When we tried to get him to play with something else, he screamed. But once we finally coaxed him out with promises of bouncy balls, and hid the damn cozy coupe, he could not get enough of the entire thing. So, that was a total blast to watch him play with all the big kids.

Once we left the party we got home just in time to meet Jen and her new man-friend. They were kind enough to bring a bunch of different beers we'd never even seen before. So, we made burritos and guacamole and spend the evening doing our own beer tasting. (Only tiny sips to taste for the pregnant lady). Just an utter delight.

Then Sunday, we had a leisurely breakfast and went for a walk and watched Warren play with a scuba-diving proof camera. And since it was scuba-proof it is also toddler proof. So, for once he got to play with the grown up toys without anyone stopping him. And that's just fun. So much of childhood and toddlerhood is being told you aren't allowed to play with stuff, or touch anything. So, it was a blast to give him free-reign to touch and play with something without being told to stop.

Freakin' really?

So, this weekend I was in Chicago, doing some research. Part of this research involved attending a two day "change your life" seminar. Not so much for the content as the format.
But seriously, after spending 20 hours over two days in a complete shuddering rage, I'm pretty exhausted. Look, I'm not a fan of motivational speakers, especially those with a hugely judgmental religious slant. But some of this shit was just beyond. The only way to get through it was to write bitchy notes to myself so I wouldn't scream out loud.
A few nuggets for your enjoyment. This woman says she wishes she had been born a black woman, because life would have been easier (you know, "black don't crack", and how all black people are good at sports and singing, and black people never need braces), and because black women will have long black hair one day, short blond hair the next, red shoulder length hair the following day. Apparently, only black people are allowed to wear wigs.
Also, she can personally disprove evolution. Would you like to know how? This right here: eagles are "destined" to soar, so they don't have chicken wings. See? Convinced? Yeah, me too.
The racial shit went on all weekend complete with the statement, "Politics are so immoral these days, I mean, just look at how low Clinton brought us. And who's in office right now? I mean, it's like ANYONE can be president." Yeah. And I almost had a heart attack when she stated as gospel truth, that "women's liberation" and the whole "women fighting to be able to work and choose whether to have babies or not" was a government conspiracy to stimulate the economy.
Yeah, I pretty much hope she gets herpes. On her face.