Monthly Archives: December 2007

well baby, sick mama

Posted on by
9

Cormac had his six-month well-baby checkup yesterday. Fifteen pounds even, 43 centimeter head, 27.5” inches long. Seventy-fifth percentile for height but only between 25th and 50th for weight. Long and lean. He is physically and developmentally perfect in every way and I am doing a wonderful job.

I love our pediatrician.

Me, on the other hand … Well, I’m sick, again, with the dehydrating “stomach flu” that landed me in the E.R. a few times last month. Quite honestly? If this is stomach flu than you may call me the Queen of England. Something else is wrong and I can’t freaking wait to find out what it is so I can make it stop already. Among other symptoms, there is intermittent pain that makes me dizzy and nauseated and I would really enjoy it if that would stop.

My appointment with the specialist is not until Thursday and I’m trying to keep myself healthy enough to take care of the kids until then. Sadly, I anticipate more tests (and weeks more of uncertainty) before we can pinpoint the cause and create a solution. Stupid body.

Is there a poodle in your doodle?

Posted on by
4

Man! The kind of baby talk I come up with when changing diapers. It’s criminal.

So. What is it, Wednesday? Only Wednesday? Damn. Thursday, you say? OK then.

This week started out hideously low, lower than low, Mariana Trench low. Cormac would not sleep and would not sleep. I said some things in my Lullaby Voice that I am glad he does not have the vocabulary to understand. I drafted posts in my mind to the tune of “Girls, Make Sure You Refill That Birth Control Prescription.” I cried. It was double plus ungood.

And then, in the afternoon, both boys gave me an hour of uninterrupted Quiet Time. I scooted straight upstairs, opened my Machine Made Patchworks Vol. 2 (thanks, Japan, for being so cool) and started sewing.

work in progress: japanese patchwork handbag

And from there, things have generally been looking up. Amazing what a little Zen Time can do for a body. Those anxiety fits from last week are calming down — I totally and completely have you all to thank, you and your wise words of advice and soothing. I am still doing pretty well on my new Eat Healthy regimen, although … I am having intestinal sadness again. I don’t know what’s wrong with my insides but I am pretty sure something is. I have a referral for a gastro doc so I’ll give him a call sometime. Surely. Surely I can find some time in the day to call a doctor.

Anyway. Things in general: looking good. Lots of Christmas gifts to start making. Found a great recipe for peppermint bark, thanks to a friend in Tennessee. It snowed yesterday — thanks, Weather! And we put up our Christmas tree. Oh, and Mac slept through the night and Owen has taken to calling me “Honey.”

Things are looking up. At least that’s what my perpetual inner optimist keeps saying. I have no choice but to listen to her.

Pardon my dust. Am experimenting.

Posted on by
9

Now with ad musings at the bottom! (9 a.m.)

I have had the same theme, “Drunkey Love,” for a hundred and eleven years. I love it. It’s wonderful. But it isn’t three columns.

So I am experimenting with a similar looking theme called Silhouette, by Brian Gardner. If things look unfamiliar to you longtime readers, this is why. If I decide not to stick with this theme, this post may self destruct.

Cheers!

ooh, edited to add: thanks to kerflop for her “detailed look at blog advertising” post. Not all bloggers are as transparent and willing to share. I appreciate it. Part of why I am trying a three column layout is to find a balance between advertisements, which pay for hosting and a banana, and everything else, all that glorious Me stuff. The newspaper designer in me wants everything to be above the fold.

2nd update: Yeesh. Didn’t realize I had accepted full-page ads and inline ads. They are turned off again. That’s obnoxious. (I am trying out Adbrite for a few days.)

3rd update: To answer a question in the comments:

How does one get ads? I have google ads, but when I wrote blog ads requesting to be added, I never received a response! Help!

It depends on what ad network you want to become a part of. I have been a BlogHer supporter since the get-go, even attending the conference in California (‘06 alum holla!), so I am a member of the BlogHer ads network. I also like Text Link Ads for being so unobtrusive, and because the advertisers seemed nice, and because they paid well considering I am a “little guy.” Funny criteria, but there you go. I have tried Google AdSense but never made more than 30 cents and disliked the pushy feel of those ads, so those are gone. BlogAds — I was a part of that a hundred years ago, but I didn’t feel like it was worth the hassle for the “little guys.” And right now I am trying Adbrite, which is why you are being accidentally shown full-page banners and inline ads. Oops. Hope that script refreshes!

Blog advertising is a funny monkey. I don’t mind it as much when it’s unobtrusive and useful, as text links can be. I don’t mind it when it helps a larger community of authors, as BlogHer ads do. But there is a definitely a point where the feel and tone of a site is affected by the number and type of ads. I didn’t have ads for a long time on this site, because I didn’t like to be one iota beholden to anyone or worrying about “clicks.” Now I have two kids and can’t afford day care for two and am working fewer hours at the office, so I have been experimenting over the last year with ads as a way of supplementing my paltry income. I am trying to find a balance between earning money for my writing and the information I provide (for free, ads or no ads), and the aesthetic of the site and my own disinclination to admit someone else’s content. I think it’s a road many bloggers travel in their own way.

He gets points for creativity

Posted on by
5

The other day I asked Owen to please go to his room, it was time for a diaper change. He flopped to the ground. He wriggled and wraggled. We had a heated argument (“Do it!” “No!” “Come on!” “Don’t wanna!”). Finally I moved to pick him up bodily from his present location and he made like a sack of flour.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t have any bones.”

“You what?”

“I don’t have any bones.” And with that his tongue lolled out and he was as floppy as a rag doll who was about to get a time-out so his mother could laugh behind her hands.