Sunday, March 22, 2009

Spring Breaking

The writing on this site has been pretty atrocious lately. I don't even know that you can call it writing. It's more like random blabbering about puke and tantrums. I just don't feel like I have much to write about. I don't do a whole lot. I go to school, and hang out with Norah. I, of course, find Norah fascinating. She's growing so quickly, learning and changing so much. I'm delighted by her. But then, I'm her mother and I don't imagine that the Internet is quite as delighted by her chirps and facial expressions and the way she crawls and the way her feet look when she crosses them while she eats. There is not a whole lot of adventure in my life right now.

On Friday afternoon we left for our Spring Break trip to Arizona. It was at least an 18 hour drive. A verifiable cross-country trip. And on late Friday night when we were in our hotel room in Amarillo, Texas, with our maniac baby rolling around on the bed and regularly kicking me in the face, I thought "Well. Hopefully I will be getting some good stories out of this trip. If nothing else."

I think I will.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

11 Months-The Late and the Lazy

We are leaving for our spring break trip on Friday. I am terribly excited. So excited, in fact, that it is taking everything in me to do my homework that is due this week and study for the tests I have this week. All I want to do is start packing, but I have this clunky essay about the population of the Ukraine that is due tomorrow and I really need to get on that...
It is way past March 7th, which was Norah's 11 month birthday. I forgot to write her a letter, and I don't really want to write one now because I am writing her big 1 year (!) letter in a litttle over 2 weeks. So in the place of a letter, I will just make a list of all her Awesome Tricks. Also, my brain is already on spring break, so I just don't have it in me to do anything more creative than write a list.
Norah's Awesome 11 Month Tricks

1. Feeds herself with a spoon. While she has not yet figured out how to scoop things from her bowl with her spoon, she can take a pre-loaded spoon from either her bowl or my hand and make it to her mouth. Most of the time. Sometimes it goes in her eyeballs and sometimes she tips the spoon over and dumps everything in her lap. And sometimes she waits til I give her a really full spoon and then flings it across the room.

2. Cruises. Yes, she now holds onto furniture and walks along it. And just today, when she was "helping" me load the dishwasher she let go and stood alone. She seemed just as surprised as me, and stood there for at least a whole minute before she fell down.

3. Eats an entire piece of pizza, including the crust. I am especially fond of this one. She didn't eat a cut-up piece of pizza. She held a whole piece in her hand, by the crust, and at the whole thing. Mama is so proud!

4. Yes. I give my baby pizza. Get over it.

5. Talks. She says lots of words, but the most clear and frequent are "Mama" "DadDad" and "Yea!?"

I'm sure she has more tricks, but the population of the Ukraine is waiting for me to write about it, so I must quit. But first, the sequence of self-feeding in picture form.

Thursday, March 12, 2009


Norah has mastered the awesome art of arching her back and becoming as limp as a noodle. So if I am holding her and she gets mad, she pulls this trick and I have to scramble to hold on to her arched limp noodled little body, and I usually end up accidentally jabbing a finger into her armpit which just makes her more mad and then...the roof blows off the house.

So if you see a roof flying up the in air in the general vicinity of Arkansas, don't worry. Norah's just upset because I won't let her chew on the cat and then I jabbed my finger in her armpit.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Brain Mush

I ran into Rusty's car yesterday morning.

I was pulling out of the garage, on my way to school, and even though I do this exact thing every week, for some reason it never occurred to me that I should look behind me before I pulled out.

So I put my car in reverse and started to reverse and was really perplexed when I heard a crunch and then could not go any further. All the potential causes of the crunching went through my head: the trash can, the neighbor's trash can, the garage door, a box, a cat, the mailbox, Santa Clause? but never did Rusty's car cross my mind.

Then I got out and saw the butt of my car all smooshed up to the front of his. Poor cars.

I have no explanation for my lack of thinking except maybe this: The puke germs that I got, those awful germs that I got from my precious and lovely little baby, the germs that made me throw up more times in one day than I did throughout my entire pregnancy, those germs killed part of my brain.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

One Step Forward, One Germ-X Bath Back

Winter listened to me!!

It is a lovely (if windy) 75ish out there and I am one happy desert rat.

However, the Norah? Has the pukes. And not the cute newborn kind either.


Because I think my mom, Donna, sometimes reads this site I will refrain from any descriptions. Suffice it to say, the baby is sick. And that makes me sad.

Gotta go now. I have a bathtub full of Germ-X waiting for me to go roll around in it. Think healthy thoughts for the Norah!

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Slathering on the Sunless Tanner

The climate in New Mexico is vastly different from the climate here in Arkansas and though it has been almost three years since I moved here, I am still adjusting. I know, three years is a long adjustment period, but when you spent 19 years in one kind of place and then move to a totally different kind of place...three years does not seem to be so long.

The summers here are obviously different. New Mexican summers are blisteringly hot, the sun could bake you like a potato in 10 minutes flat. But the heat is dry, it's a light kind of heat that you can breathe in, that you can escape if you hide in some shade for a while. The summers here are very nearly unbearable for a desert rat like myself. Here there is a heavy, wet, oppressive heat that can only be defeated by some serious air conditioning. You can't escape that kind of heat; it conquers even the nicest of shade trees. I hate hearing the locusts outside in the summer because their chirping sounds to me like "Saa-aa-aa-die! Come out here and swelter in this outdoor saaaaaaauna!" I hate those stupid locusts.

Like I told Dr Stratman yesterday: I was a lifeguard for two years in Roswell. I survived the heat there, though on some days it felt like my sanity was seeping out my pores, but I could not be a lifeguard here. I would just plain fall over dead.

In Roswell, spring and fall are marked mostly by wind and dirt. The dirt blows in your eyes and your hair and your lip gloss so all spring and fall you walk around with scratchy eyes, dusty smelling hair and gritty lips. The temperature is nice, but the blowing dirt...not so great. Spring and fall in Arkansas are lovely, prone to make me stare out the windows of my classrooms longingly, prone even to inspire me with poems. Though honestly, I would take dirt in my face over tornadoes any day.

And winter. I loathe the winter. I like cold weather for about a week, which is long enough to wear some cute clothes and light a fire, but then I'm done. In New Mexico the cold is different too. When I lived in Albuquerque and was going to school there, I learned the art of layering well. Because when I left the house in the morning it was cold enough to freeze the snot in your nose but by noon is could be a lovely 60 degrees outside. In Arkansas I have learned to layer too, but for a very different reason. Here I have to layer just to get to mail from the mailbox lest I turn into an ice sculpture on the front lawn. Here it is very likely that the snot in your nose is going to stay frozen for a good two weeks before you get some relief.

And you know what winter? I am ready for the snot in my nose to melt! Once, I wore two pairs of pants to school because when I left the house it was 9 degrees. 9! And it was only going to get up to something idiotic like 12 degrees by noon. That is just ridiculous. I would never survive the weather anywhere north of where I currently live.

All that to say, I'm done with this whole winter thing. I'm finished. I am putting away my winter clothes and they are not coming back out, not even if it snows. Perhaps I can bring on the spring just by sheer force of will. Perhaps winter will look into my face, see the revolt in my eyes as I scurry across campus in my little cardigan and cropped pants, and it will cower.

That's the plan folks. Won't you join me in the uprising?

Tuesday, March 3, 2009