You know what I'd love to have right now?
Why those things are only available on the east coast, I'll never know. And why I thought of that just now, I'll also never know. I haven't had a Mallomar since I was in NYC on my honeymoon nine years ago.
Oh no....and thinking of eating in NYC has just given me the most godawful craving for a knish. I may end up huddled in a corner, sobbing, before the day is out. Why, WHY must I live in a culinary black hole??
One of the things in life that isn't fair is that we have, for the most part, no recollection of what it was like to be three years old. Sure, we may have little snatches of remembrance here and there, but no real recall of our motivations, our thought processes, etc. It's really too bad because I'm sure the memories would come in handy when we became adults and wound up with three-year-olds of our own.
John-Zachary, for example, has recently decided to become potty trained. Now, we'd been working on it for several months and he had the #1 aspect down pretty well although accidents (around the house) were a pretty regular occurrence. #2 was the problem. What it boiled down to is that if he disappeared from the room for more than ten seconds it was a guarantee that you'd find him with an unpleasant surprise in his undies. We tried bribing, begging, cajoling, praising, threatening dire consequences, stickers -- you name it, we tried it. He wasn't having it. I even completely lost my sh*t one night (no pun intended) and, in hormonal flux, broke down bawling after he'd done it yet again. He was horrified to see me cry but even that didn't convince him to try to make it to the potty the next day. We basically entered a holding pattern. I didn't think it wise to revert to diapers/Pull-Ups again since he had made progress in the #1 department, and yet I had no idea what else I could possibly try as he seemed determined not to respond to anything -- positive, negative or in between.
Therefore you can imagine my surprise when it suddenly clicked one day a couple weeks ago, out of the blue and for no apparent reason. We were not trying anything new. Things were status quo, and yet, one morning, instead of disappearing into the other room to do his illicit business he, instead, hung around the living room acting oddly. I asked him if he had to go and, instead of the usual denial, he owned up to it. I sent him off to the bathroom and, lo and behold, the desired results were performed. I heaped on the praise but was privately dubious, as he'd done it a couple times in the past but then gone right back to his old ways the next time. However, the next day he allowed me to see he needed to go and, again, I sent him to the potty where he took care of business like a pro. Two days later he started telling us when he had to go instead of us having to ask. 14 days later he hasn't had a single alfresco toilet incident (the #1 accidents have also ceased) and I think it's safe to say he's nailed it. Which leads me back around to my original thought -- what on earth finally convinced him to cooperate? It certainly wasn't anything I did; it was purely within his own squirrelly little mind. What finally clicked? If I knew I could write a book and make millions.
Now, I guess, we move on to the next step: convincing him he no longer gets a piece of candy every time he performs. If anyone has any ideas how to wean him off that, I'm all ears. Because, you know, that could cause some awkward and embarrassing situations if he's still expecting a Tootsie Pop for pooping when he's a teenager.
I am tired. Tired tired tired tired tiredy tired. And again I say: TIRED.
The lack of quality sleep (I'm up every 1.5 to 2 hours now) combined with my body diverting most of its resources to gestating would be enough but I'm also now dealing with a doozy of a head cold (for which I can't take any medication outside of plain Tylenol. I'd give my left boob for some Dayquil right now). I have gone beyond the valley of the shadow of tiredness and have entered the land of mind-numbing exhaustion.
This morning I got a call about 10:20 from Madalyn's basketball coach asking if we were coming down for team pictures prior to the 11:00 game -- neither event about which I had any recollection at all. We missed pictures (they're rescheduled for Monday) but did manage to make the game, at least. I guess I can blame that partially on the fact that she hasn't had basketball, neither games nor practices, for two weeks due to weather so I'm kind of out of the habit. However, I'm quite sure it doesn't help my powers of recall that my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton balls.
And in fine illustration of my point, I realized this morning that I was having a hard time remembering a specific set of facts and keep having to look up the answer. I was going to mention them in this entry but have discovered that I have forgotten what facts it is I keep forgetting.
On the (totally unrelated) plus side, I can now announce that it appears John-Zachary is completely potty trained, knock wood. So if my memory doesn't improve some after the baby is born (and, let's face it, we know THAT isn't going to happen) at least I will only have one child in disposable undergarments to remember to attend to.
Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.
I love irony. Oh, and also: brrrrrrr.
It's times like this I"m glad I have a blog.
I do censor myself somewhat on here. Some of it is organic -- there's stuff I just don't feel like writing about, or I realize I'm overreacting to something and that I will look like an ass later if I publish what I'm thinking just then. Some of it is in recognition of the many different types of people who read this blog. While I don't live my life based on what other people think about me that doesn't mean I care to grievously offend people, either.
Anyway, what all this boils down to is that sometimes there are things I want to whine about. A lot of times these things can be handled by my venting to my friends on the message boards I frequent. But there comes a certain point where either, a) I feel I've beaten a subject to death and no one wants to hear about it any more or, b) the subject matter is such that people might not be sympathetic or understanding (rightly or wrongly so).
For example, today's subject: I am so fricking-fracking sick of being pregnant. I am SO sick of it. And I feel badly about it, because I know a number of people online who would love, LOVE to be pregnant right now but can't -- either because it's not the right time or because it's downright impossible. So I do try to keep that in mind and not innundate my hangouts with constant complaints. That's when this blog comes in handy. Because, y'all --
I HAVE HAD IT!!!!
I have been sick now basically for the past six months. I have 11 weeks left to go and have no reason to think it's suddenly going to improve in that time. It's just demoralizing. Six months -- it's hard for me to even recall feeling normal, at this point. A good day for me now is only a mild flash of nausea here and there. Then we have days like today, with stomach pains and a generally unsettled feeling. I don't want to eat anything. Nothing sounds good. When I did eat yesterday I had half a chicken sandwich and half an order of fries and when I got home I felt like my stomach was going to explode. It was lovely. I was having shortness of breath and could not get comfortable to save my life. I'm just tired of it. If this is the cosmic universe's way of guaranteeing that I never want to have another baby, I get it! It worked! I am done! Giving me a break for the last 11 weeks really really will not make me change my mind, I swear. 11 weeks of normalcy would not be enough to negate 29 weeks of bummerosity in my mind. So whomever is in charge of this stuff, please get on this as soon as possible. I just want a little break -- because this flat-out sucks.
Earlier today I went out to eat. I drove home, pulled into the driveway, put the van in park, set the parking brake and turned it off -- as always.
Fast forward to about thirty minutes ago. I decided to run out to get a bottle of water. I went out, climbed in the van, put the key in the ignition......and it wouldn't turn. Zip. Nada. Zilch. I stomped the brake clear to the floor and tried it, I beat the gearshift violently to make sure it was in park, I wiggled the key, I pulled it partway out, nothing. Robert came out and had a whack at it. No luck.
The only theory Robert has is that the anti-theft device has malfunctioned but I am not buying that. What sense would it make for the anti-theft device to disable the ability to use the actual keys to the vehicle?
The only thing I can think to do is call the local Dodge dealership tomorrow and see what they have to say. Another problem is I have no idea where the anti-theft device came from. I thought it was put on as part of the conversion package but Robert thinks it was put on by the dealership from which we bought it. Ooh, fun, a mystery! Why do I have the sinking feeling that this is going to result in my having my van towed for the third time in less than two months?
(For those who may be new to this blog, here is a Cliffs Notes version of the past couple of months with this van: hit object on highway in Norman, punctured gas tank, had entire Norman Fire Department out cleaning up the mess, van towed to Norman Dodge where it remained for two full weeks, had all sorts of trouble picking the stupid thing up, arrived home after picking up van only to get a flat tire literally five minutes after getting into town, no spare so had to have it towed again, and now this.)
Update, 20 minutes later:
I decided to Google the problem to see if I could get some ideas, just to be prepared. Imagine my horror when it became apparent from the results I got that this is a well-known and widespread problem with Daimler Chrysler vehicles. I found a thread on Automotive.com where, page after page, the owners of Chrysler vehicles of all types told of having this exact problem. Some of them experienced it only briefly; others have had to have the entire shaft of the ignition replaced and still had a recurrence of the issue.
Early on in the thread one poster said that the tow truck driver who came to her house simply took out a rubber mallet and tapped the key into the ignition a couple times. This was followed by scores of people who read the advice on the thread, tried it, and it worked. So, being without a mallet, I grabbed a screwdriver (the recommended backup device on the thread) and went out to the van. I bonked the key a couple times and, lo and behold, it turned and the van started right up.
So, yay, at least for now. I have left the screwdriver in the van in case I need it again. I can't be entirely thrilled, though. I have just discovered I now own a vehicle that has a known design flaw which the company choses to ignore, and which is just as likely to keep recurring as it is likely to magically go away on its own (some people on the thread never had it happen again while others have had continuing problems for years). Some people report that the tapping quits working eventually. Now I get to wonder, every time I get in my van, will the key turn? And, if it doesn't, will the screwdriver tap work, or will I be stranded....yet again?
So, note to self: do NOT purchase any more Daimler Chrysler vehicles. From what I read this happens to pretty much every model they make; it's not limited to vans or trucks. Not only is it damned inconvenient I have a really big moral issue with a company who knows that their autos have this problem and refuses to do something about it.
Here it is, in all its shadow-casting glory: the 28-week belly.
Tell me I am not the only person who bounced out of bed this morning, got the kids groomed and dressed and fed and then sent them happily off with their father to be dropped off at school....only to have them come trooping back ten minutes later because school doesn't actually start until tomorrow?
Oh, I am the only one?
Dang.
(In my defense, it wasn't that I was so anxious to get rid of them. I was actually bummed vacation was over. I just, somehow, got it in my head that they went back today. On the plus side since I am pregnant I can just blame my addled brain on that.)