Sunday, October 31, 2004
Somebody's daddy took her trick-or-treating tonight, and taught her how to eat lollipops. I'm told that it was quite the adorable moment when somebody's little face lit up with a delighted smile after the first lick of her very first lollipop. A BRIGHT RED LOLLIPOP, I might add.
It was considerably less adorable when somebody threw a tantrum because her mean mommy and daddy made her save the rest of the lollipop for "later". O wretched candy-denying parents! A couple of hours after Sophie's last taste of lollipop, we were still chasing after a very tightly wound toddler who was streaking through the house chanting "LOLL-I-POP! LOLL-I-POP!" It was like monitoring a hardcore addict through the first stages of detox.
They say that sugar doesn't make kids hyper. THEY LIE. The sugary wonders of Halloween + 21-month-old child = VERY BAD SCENE.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Sophie dressed up as a 1950's girl - complete with poodle skirt and matching tiny stuffed poodle - for Halloween this year. It didn't take her long to grasp the concept of "knock on door, receive candy".
We stopped by my friend's house this afternoon so that the girls could see each other's costumes. Don't they look sweet and innocent? Trust me, THAT'S HOW THEY GET YOU. Toddlers are wily that way.
# posted by Amanda at 9:06 PM |
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Good news: not only is penne pasta yummy and nutritious, it can also be used for mealtime fun. Look, edible finger puppets!
# posted by Amanda at 11:33 AM |
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Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Did you see tonight's lunar eclipse? It was really quite amazing.
Photo taken by Mr. Cheezleton from the back deck of Cheezleton Manor.
# posted by Amanda at 10:06 PM |
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We found ourselves with a little extra wait time before dinner this past Sunday in Baltimore. (Word to the wise: just avoid the city on Ravens home game days. Period.) As we poked through the shops at the Pratt Street Pavillion, I noticed a fortune teller's booth offering tarot and palm readings. It had been about eight years since I last had my fortune told, and being oddly drawn to that sort of thing I figured hey, why not? I stepped in, handed the fortune teller the $10 fee and placed my hands palm-up for her to read.
I'm not entirely sure that she even glanced at them before starting.
"What's your name? Hi, Amanda. Who do you live with? Your husband? You're having trouble communicating, aren't you? He's not listening to you. You need to stop pulling so hard with that... The white uniform looks good on you. What do you do for a living? Research? What kind of research? Health care WHAT, exactly? Oh. You're very smart. 2005 is going to be a good year for you. You're going to do some freelance work and you'll start your own business."
She paused, looked me over, leaned forward and said, "You are very fertile. If you don't want any more children, you need to be very careful. Do you understand?"
And that was the end. I have never exited a place so quickly in my entire life.
Throughout most of the reading, I gave her a look that probably clearly communicated my duh, nope, and WHAT white uniform? reactions. That final bit of the reading, though---that was a gem! Imagine the application: Oh gee, honey, I'd love to, but the fortune teller said I'm VERY FERTILE and we should be VERY CAREFUL. Maybe it's not a good idea... Dunno if it was worth $10, but over time it would be cheaper than traditional forms of birth control.
# posted by Amanda at 11:24 AM |
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Friday, October 22, 2004
Welcome to It's-All-About-the-Ass Friday here at Cheezwerks HQ! Just thought I'd share the two of the most recent websearches that popped up on the ol' site logs:
- "celebrity picking butt photos"
- "Paige Davis and ass photos"
People...whatever floats your boat, but C'MON! Isn't it a little early in the day to be that kinky?
# posted by Amanda at 9:41 AM |
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Wednesday, October 20, 2004
I haven't had time to email everyone back yet to thank you all personally for your kind thoughts, but I will. In the meantime, know that I'm doing okay, if still rather sore. Also, if there's a lesson to be learned from all of this, it's to get the bill and high-tail your dysfunctional follicles outta the E.R. when the doc on duty informs you that GYN isn't his "forte".
# posted by Amanda at 11:27 AM |
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Monday, October 18, 2004
More Fun Times at Camp Happy Little Clouds
What time is it, 10:30 PM? That would mean that it's 9 hours since I headed to the local emergency room (on the advice of my primary care provider) with what looked suspiciously like a miscarriage. I JUST got home about 45 minutes ago with good news, bad news and a bonus day off work tomorrow by doctor's orders. All that for the price of my dignity! What a deal!
Let's start the tale by noting that it was, in fact, the LOCAL E.R. Triage was well stocked with burly men in overalls and other people that I'd expect to see shopping at Wal-Mart at midnight. Are these people more emergency-prone than the rest of the population*, or did I happen to pick a weird time for my emergency visit?
*Yes, there are professional yuppy-ish liberal sorts 'round these parts. Increasingly so! We drive VWs and Volvos and post Kerry-Edwards signs in our yards and are installing security cameras in case our houses are egged on Election Day by the other sort.
After hanging around for eons watching the parade of recessive genes in triage, one of the doctors finally called me back into the E.R. office to start baseline measures. Lucky me, I managed to get Mr. Funny Doc. Hey dude? Here's a tip: if your patient says, "I don't do well with needles" when you mention needing to start an IV, the CORRECT RESPONSE is to find out exactly what that means and consider putting the patient in a bed before poking her, NOT saying "Ha ha, that's okay, I do fine with needles!" and then proceeding to draw a big ass vial of blood WITHOUT WARNING THE PATIENT. It will be your own damn fault when you have to scoop my passed-out carcass off the ER floor and drag me to the nearest empty bed. And you can count on me being plenty pissed off when I wake up.
So, today's "nearest bed" happened to be right between an elderly stroker and an elderly hip fracturer. I'm sure it brightened their days to overhear several narrations of my particular problem as well as my sexual/reproductive history**. Perhaps they were biting their nails right along with me when the doctor explained the diagnostic techniques they'd be using on me and said - four words that absolutely should never be uttered in connection with OB/GYN procedures - "We're going to improvise."
**The doctor ACTUALLY ASKED ME IF I'M SEXUALLY ACTIVE. When I reminded him that I was in the E.R. for a possible miscarriage, he responded very solemnly, "Well, you'd be surprised." Uh, yeah, to put it mildly.
Anyway, fast forward a gazillion hours past the exams and sonograms to the diagnosis. No miscarriage, no ongoing pregnancy, just a vague diagnosis of "complex follicles". It must be all the Sartre and Nietzsche they read when they were young school-aged folliclettes. Now they're confused and have rage issues and have been randomly egging my house, so to speak.
My sister-in-law just asked me if follicles ever become "simple" again. Well, I'm planning to spend Tuesday curled up on the sofa watching trash TV, which always makes me feel like I'm losing braincells, so maybe that will help.
# posted by Amanda at 9:32 PM |
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Thursday, October 14, 2004
This week's Sick Bastard Websearch Award goes to the person or persons who ended up on my site by searching for "celebrity nose picking". WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT TO SEE THAT?!
# posted by Amanda at 9:48 PM |
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Wednesday, October 13, 2004
I've just spent the last half hour or so picking through United States mortality statistics. The life expectancy for a Caucasian female reached 80.2 years in 2001. That's fine for vast and generic populations, but when you get down to the individual level, it's a worthless number.
My grandmother is back in the hospital again, only about two weeks after the last stint. This time it was a major stroke, and this time there's aphasia. It's still early and if there's a prognosis, I haven't heard it. I'm trying not to think about what I know of cerebrovascular injury and its recovery prospects.
My grandmother, by the way, is 77.4 years old.
# posted by Amanda at 8:42 PM |
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Tuesday, October 12, 2004
This is NOT the redesign, it's just a break.
# posted by Amanda at 11:15 AM |
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Sunday, October 10, 2004
It is a gooood cat that pleasantly tolerates a toddler asking "Is your nose icky?", and then doesn't even flinch when the toddler wipes her little [non-icky] kitty nose with a tissue.
# posted by Amanda at 7:24 PM |
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Friday, October 08, 2004
If you're listening to the debate, yes, you DID just hear Bush refer to "the internets".
# posted by Amanda at 8:29 PM |
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Uuuuugh...
While I was putting gas in my car this evening and contemplating the merits of going into the station to buy a snack, some guy walked across the parking lot PICKING HIS NOSE THE WHOLE WAY and opened the station door with his NOSE-PICKING HAND. He exited the station after a few minutes and walked back across the parking lot, AGAIN with his finger up his nose.
Not only did I decide against going into the station EVER, I had no desire to eat anything after seeing that. The whole scene made me want to wash my hands.
# posted by Amanda at 6:36 PM |
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Dear Readers, What I Have Been Doing Instead of Bringing You Fresh New Content:
- Procuring a dress to wear to a wedding: Seriously, you would not BELIEVE how difficult and time-consuming it has been to find a long-sleeved*, non-black**, semi-formal dress in a style that will be attractive on a person younger than 50. Royal purple - as seen on Kim Cattrell and Kristen Davis - is supposed to be the "it" color this season, but evidently that hasn't caught on yet at the stores where dresses cost less than the resale value of my car. I contemplated sending my regrets to the bride and groom ("Dahlings, I simply haven't a thing to wear..."), but then I remembered personally speaking with the bride about a month ago regarding needing to have a certain number of butts in the seats in order to avoid some wonky catering surcharge, and by gawd my butt WILL be present and accounted for in its reserved seat! So, on to Plan B: my mother is whipping up a dress for me to wear. In PURPLE. Because I am all about being part of "it".
*It is October and I am officially cold. Sleeves, please. Fur-lined if possible.
**Black is good for funerals and any other time you want to be dressed just like everybody else. *yawn* Color + open bar = festive.
- Reading infertility blogs: No idea why I'm so drawn to this group of blogs, but there you have it. To the best of my knowledge, I'm plenty fertile. Hell, judging by the fact that five of my friends are spawning in the next three months, there's even more than enough collateral fertility in my life. (My baby gift stash overfloweth. ENOUGH WITH THE SPAWNING, YOU CRAZY SPAWNERS!) That being said, there are no current plans to have more Mini Cheezletons. Oh, once upon a time, we had thought maybe we'd plan to have another baby when Sophie was 2 1/2. However, I did the math recently, and that would mean getting pregnant right now. Eh, pass.*
*I reserve the right to change my hormones mind TOMORROW.
- Not sleeping: This has nothing to do with the above discussion of infertility-by-choice, but have I mentioned that Sophie (a.k.a. Our Lady of Perpetual Tantrumming) has only slept through the night about a dozen times since May? Yes, that would be FIVE CONSECUTIVE MONTHS of getting up during the middle of the night to soothe a kid who had ABSOLUTELY NO PROBLEM sleeping through the night from the age of 6 weeks until 16 months, i.e. MAY. A few more months of this nocturnal tendency and We'll all have developed glowing phosphorescent eyes.
- Redesigning the site: Yep, bored again. I'm not even going to hazard a guess on when the redesign will be done, all I can say is that IT WON'T BE BLUE.
# posted by Amanda at 12:10 PM |
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[Editor's note: you've come to the wrong place - at least this morning - if you're looking for something other than another baby photo. Oh well. Maybe there will be a more substantial post later today...]
Sophie and I went to a corn maze with some overseas friends last weekend. I took about 50 or so pictures, which should have been unbearably cute with the really cute cuteness of two cute toddlers. Unfortunately, when we got home I discovered that all of the photos were blurry. EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM.
Below, an example of why a new camera is most definitely in my future:
# posted by Amanda at 6:00 AM |
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Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Driving into work this morning, I noticed that the horses already have their winter coats. Considering that the leaves haven't even started to turn colors yet, that is probably not a good omen as far as winter weather is concerned. *shiver*
# posted by Amanda at 8:00 AM |
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Sunday, October 03, 2004
 Remember how Sophie was in last year's Beautiful Baby Contest at our county fair? Remember how I said we weren't going to do it again?
Ummmm...we did it again. (I know, I know.)
I'm not going to get too much into the details here, except to say that:
- Sophie won first place in her age division!
- She was completely unimpressed with the event and the award. Celebrity has not swelled HER head!
- No one should EVER dress a 19-month-old child in a leopard print shirt, black miniskirt and BLACK VINYL KNEE BOOTS. (I wish I were making that up, but sadly that is exactly how one of the other baby girls was dressed.)
- We're done now. Really. El finito. Ending on a high note. Huzzah!
# posted by Amanda at 8:38 AM |
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Friday, October 01, 2004
Lorikeets eating nectar at the Columbus Zoo, or in Sophiespeak, "Birdies eat dip-dip!"
# posted by Amanda at 10:42 PM |
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