All Things Food Related

Can someone please explain to me why my daughter will not eat carrots, or 99% of vegetables for that matter, but she will make every attempt possible to eat pretend carrots made out of Play-Doh?

In other food matters, the bribery fish that I bought Pumpkin seems to be depressed, and will not eat. It is a Betta fish, and was purchased with a recommended starter kit. I often see these fish in small cups at the pet store, so I figured it would be happy in the tank that I bought it, even though it is quite small. I change the water a couple of times a week, and try to keep the water warm enough, yet it still won't eat. Do fish have suicidal tendencies? Any experts out there?

I made scones yesterday, even though I've never made a pastry before in my life! I didn't actually know what shortening was for, and don't own a rolling pin, yet I made delicious scones, and ate them for breakfast, lunch, and snack yesterday. These are not to be confused with the sconces that I discussed a few posts back. There was some confusion when MotherBumper showed up with some butter and preserves back when I posted that.

One of my dogs lives to eat. You might think that this is true of all dogs, but Taz is in a class of his own. He is relentless in his quest for food, and shows no remorse if he steals something off your plate. If you were a few feet away from your own sandwich, holding a baseball bat, Taz would still make an effort to get at least part of the sandwich before you gave him a whack. Just an example, of course. We would never hit him with a baseball bat. Tazers are more effective. Anyhoo, we store his dog food in a latched bin inside a closet. Every now and again, one of us manages to leave both the latch and closet door open, and Taz has himself a feast. He eats until I imagine he is uncomfortable, then typically has a lot to drink afterwards. The water makes the kibble expand in his stomach, which allows us to determine that he has in fact pigged out, based on the way his stomach extends, giving him a somewhat cylindrical shape. He will then spend the rest of the day, lying on his side, passing gas and acting kind of pathetic. Incidentally, this has only happened 3 or 4 times in his life - we're not quite stupid enough to make this mistake too often. Taz didn't pig-out last night, but I did. Hubby brought home Indian food, which is my absolute favourite, so I attacked my meal with vigour. The problem is, there is a baby taking up a heck of a lot of room in my body, and I tend to fill up very quickly these days. So I was staring at a plate of the most amazingly flavoured food, yet could not really eat it. I decided that I was going to get it down one way or another, so I sat there forever, stuffing in a small mouthful whenever I started to feel the slightest bit less bloated. I did reach my goal of clearing off my plate, but it took so long that I missed my chance at getting Pumpkin to bed early and having a romantic Earth Hour with hubby. Even if I had timed things right, romance was not going to happen. I think my stomach doubled in size and I could barely move. The only difference between me last night and Taz on a pig-out night is that I was less likely to crap on the rug at four in the morning. Nothing bad happened to me, but I had to stay up fairly late in order to feel well enough to fall asleep. I was still full when I woke up this morning. There's nothing like finding out that I have something in common with this guy:

A re-enactment of me attacking my meal last night

Me? Pregnant?

Up until maybe a week ago, people have been saying that I was particularly small for whatever stage of pregnancy that I happen to be at. I quite liked hearing that. It fulfilled whatever body image affirmation I required to be happy with my physique. This week, people have started saying the opposite. I'm hearing a lot of, "Wow, you're really starting to look pregnant now!", or, "your tummy is really sticking out now!", or, "Hey, I can now tell that you're pregnant when I look at you from behind!". That was my personal favourite. I know that I am supposed to look pregnant seeing as I actually am, but somehow I am not enjoying being told that I look it after so many months of being told that I was barely showing. Don't feel bad if you are one of the people who have made such comments. The issue is mine. It's just that I deluded myself into thinking that I could get through the whole nine months in size eight, non-maternity jeans. I officially declared those uncomfortable yesterday and took some hand-me-down maternity jeans to the tailor to be shortened just today. If the size eight jeans were a slightly lower rise, I could have done it! I know I could have! Ok, I get it. I look pregnant. Just go easy on telling me about it, will ya?

Blah Blah Blah Yet Again

Have you ever started a post several times, on several different topics, only to realize that you have nothing interesting to say about any of these topics? I've given it about four tries, but nothing good is coming out, so I am left to offer you nothing except random thoughts.

My vacation is booked! Bahamas here we come! I've already got my sensible shoes and oh-so-flattering maternity swim suit ready.

This pregnancy has me appreciating the small things in life, such as the amazing feeling I get every night when I get to take off my bra, which is by no means being used to hold up the small things in life. With my last pregnancy, I practically needed scaffolding to hold up my chest, and I thought I was going to be able to avoid such measures with this pregnancy. No such luck. I'm just a late bloomer this time.

Pumpkin started a new program today. After we flunked out of ballet class, I ended up enrolling us in a very commercialized, yet well organized gym program that Pumpkin seems to really enjoy. There is a fair amount of free-play on some very cool equipment, but also some very basic level gymnastics that she was actually willing to participate in. I even know about half the moms in the class from previous courses that we've been to, so it has turned out to be a very good outing for me too! I'm so glad that the ballet teacher didn't want us back.

My decorating quest has been progressing quite nicely. Pumpkin's room now has curtains, that will hopefully help her sleep a little longer, as the temporary, paper blinds really let a lot of light in. My room now has new curtains too! The temporary ones made the place look a bit student-ish. It's starting to look like grown-ups live in that room! You wouldn't even suspect someone like me actually sleeps there. Pictures will be posted - I just need to get all the finishing touches in place. At the rate that we do things, figure on seeing something around Christmas time. I can hear my mom rolling her eyes right now.

There you have it! Four whole random thoughts! Fewer than I thought I'd have, but there they are.

BOOK IT ALREADY!!!!!!

We're going on vacation! Presumably. We've been talking about having a 4 or 5 day getaway in the immediate future as I am nearing the time where the airlines aren't going to let me fly with them if they think that I might go into labour mid-air. I originally thought New York would be a good place to go seeing as I ain't never been, but hubby suggested somewhere in the Bahamas, which does sound more appealing than New York at this time of year. Today was scheduled as the day that we would sit down at the computer and get this trip decided upon. While I was giving Pumpkin a bath, I sent hubby out to rent a movie, and told him that we'd deal with the trip as soon as Pumpkin was in bed, then we'd watch the movie. That was four hours ago. We haven't seen the movie yet. It appears that I have married a details man, which I kind of knew already, but I have never witnessed it in such a frustrating capacity. First, he instructed me to go to my computer to do my own research, then bring him my searches that he would compare with his searches. This struck me as ridiculous since we'd be searching the same things, and not actually having any dialogue about it. I managed to merge our searches, but we still weren't having dialogue because he had to read the whole internet's worth of information before he could actually form an opinion on our destination. Next, he searched all the packages on the usual travel sites. Then he needed to break up the packages to see if he could book the hotel and flight separately, and come out ahead. At this point, I was still ok with his quest. Then he needed to compare the pricing with other destinations, including cruises that we weren't interested in, just to make sure that he was getting some sort of good value. I started to wonder about his sanity. Next he started looking at maps of the island to see where the hotels were located in relation to all that is supposedly interesting on the island. Then he started looking at smaller islands and reviewing all the literature on a fresh batch of hotels. Now he is reading reviews of these hotels, checking testimonies of those who have already been there. I have left him to deal with it because he has to go through some sort of process that I cannot influence, even though all I want to do is get to a f&*%-ing beach and lie there for a few days. I see five stars, I see sand, I see ocean, I see what appears to be a decent price, I book! It's really quite simple. I'm going to go up to bed without him soon. I know that when I wake up in the morning, he still won't have made any sort of decision as there will be more literature that he will need to review. I love him. I'm grateful that he wants to take us on this holiday. I also want to beat him with a stick right now.

I CAN Be Adventurous in the Kitchen!

Remember the day my spirit was crushed at a maple sugar bush when I was denied an orgasmic taste of maple taffy on snow? Well, I never quite got over that. I've thought about it a lot, and even checked the Internet for instructions on how to make my own. The instructions seem simple enough: Boil syrup for approx. 4 minutes, then pour it on snow. Looking out at my yard, I figured my biggest challenge would be finding a patch of snow that wasn't yellow, brown, or actually touched by my either of my dogs. I decided to check the front lawn instead, but then thought of all the wildlife in my neighbourhood, and couldn't get comfortable with that idea either. Then I thought of the vanilla ice cream in my freezer! Yeah baby! I boiled that syrup as soon as I thought of it, and poured it over a bed of ice cream. The verdict: It worked! My hands are so sticky that I have become one with the keyboard. The top and bottom of my mouth are welded together and I'm going to have to chisel my teeth before bed. Actually, it was kind of gross, but at least the appetite has been quelled. I can now set my culinary sites on making something to nourish my family. Wish me luck!

Princess Dress

I've always been rather tomboy-ish. From a very young age, I refused to wear dresses, or pink, or anything other than running shoes on my feet. I will now dress up for necessary occasions, but I wear jeans and sneakers most of the time. I feel motivated to dress better when I watch, What Not To Wear, but then the moment fades - it always does. Pumpkin, who is not yet three, has decided that she loves dresses. She calls them "princess dresses", and is now insisting on wearing them every day. I'm going to have to head over to Old Navy or something tonight to buy more of them to avoid fighting about her wardrobe on a daily basis. Yesterday I had her in the coolest tunic/jeans combo, and she made me put a dress-up dress over it and fought me when I took it off for bath-time. A real girly girl. Does anyone have a manual for one of those?

Unexpected Sentimental Attachment

I used to work with a guy who came into the office one day, completely freaked out about how he lost his wedding ring. Apparently it had always been loose, and he hadn't bothered to get it adjusted. I remember laughing a little, for it was a replaceable piece of jewelery, and that if his wife trusted that he didn't have it off for the purpose of infidelity, there really was no need for all the fuss. Just buy a new ring, I thought to myself. I'm not a sentimental person, and I don't attach much emotion to material things, if you haven't already figured that out. Don't get me wrong though - I love stuff as much as the next person, but I'm not sentimental about it. At least I didn't think I was until about a month ago. My mom had slept over because of a snow storm, and offered to take care of Pumpkin in the morning, allowing us to sleep in. I couldn't see anything wrong with this plan, with the exception of one thing - we have to keep our bedroom door open at night to allow the dogs to come and go, and to allow my mom to let them out on that particular morning. With the door to our room open, Pumpkin ran in while we were sleeping. My mom felt that she could not follow her out of respect for our privacy, but Pumpkin, on the other hand, cared very little about such things. She ran straight into our bathroom, played around with whatever she found, then left with my ring holder. The ring holder is a small figurine, shaped like an elephant with it's trunk in the air, upon which I usually hang my rings for the night. Fortunately, my wedding ring and my "official" engagement ring were at the jewelers being modified. The one ring that was actually on the holder was the ring that hubby gave me when he proposed. This ring is not, however, the "official" engagement ring. When he asked me to marry him, he proposed with what he considered to be a "token" ring that he chose, and then sent me off to pick the ring of my choosing. He doesn't have a lot of confidence in himself when it comes to buying gifts, so I can see why he went this route, which does have it's merits I must say. So anyhow, we aren't talking about a ring with a lot of monetary value. It does have a diamond on it, but you kind of have to squint to see it. Anyhow, when I woke up in the morning after Pumpkin had ransacked my bathroom, my mom handed me the ring holder, which she had taken away from Pumpkin for fear that she'd poke her eye out. I didn't think of it at the time, but later in the day as I was putting the holder back on my counter top, I realized that the ring was gone. Did I ever feel terrible. At that moment, I realized just how important that ring was to me, and how I had wanted to keep it until the day when I would hand it down to my daughter, ensuring that she knew the history behind it. I also felt terrible for my husband. Although he mocked the small diamond on that ring periodically, it WAS the ring that he proposed with, and it meant something to him too. We searched the house high and low, but it did not turn up. I even went through the debris in the central vacuum canister later in that week, but there was nothing. For the past month or so, I've been thinking about how badly I wanted the ring back, and decided that I'd buy a replica if I had to, although I know that replica just somehow wont be the same. I now understand why my colleague was so distraught when he lost his ring, unless his distress was from fear of his wife killing him, but let's assume that it was not.

This morning, I was drying my hair while Pumpkin rummaged through one of my cabinets, when I realized that there were some pretty dangerous things in that particular cabinet. I stopped what I was doing to take things out of her hands such as bottles of prescription drugs, rubbing alcohol, and other such goodies. Each time I took something out of her hands, she grabbed another item. This went on until I noticed that she had uncovered something shiny. My ring! My ring! Yes, I do need to put a lock on that cabinet, but for today, my ring! My ring!

Tee Hee Hee

As a matter of fact, I DO have the mentality of a twelve year old.

Recall on Juice for Toddlers

I was going to do a post every day in March without actually declaring it publicly, but I drew a total blank yesterday and decided that it was a good thing that I didn't declare it 'cause it just wasn't going to happen. So here I am today, with just as little to say, but it's not time for bed so I figured that I could yammer here for a while regardless.

For those of you who don't read the Google or Yahoo headlines when you log on everyday, make sure that you are aware of the recall on juice for toddlers that I just heard about today. As per the article that I linked to, the two products listed in the warning are the one-litre President's Choice Organics Pear Juice from Concentrate for Toddlers and the 128-millilitre Beech Nut Pear Juice from concentrate with Vitamin C added. Somehow, arsenic made it's way into these products, which makes me feel really good as a mom. This is the second time in a short while that I have heard of a recall on organic foods for toddlers, the first being a recall on My Organic Baby cereal, which was reported to be possibly rancid. I don't have anyone to up rise against that I know of, but I figured it was worth mentioning, just to get the word out there. There are probably as many recalls on non-organic products as there are for organic, but I think as consumers, we just expect more from organic products. It also doesn't help that these particular food recalls involved food for babies and toddlers. Anyhow, be aware, spread the word, 'cause that's all we can do for now.

In personal news, it is now day TEN of this f%&#-ing cold, with the addition of a sick toddler, who is less than pleased about the whole thing. She is being a pretty good sport, as long as she gets her TV, which means that we'll be fighting about the TV in a few days when she is feeling better and needs to be engaging in more interesting activities. She was actually a little bit delirious last night, at around 10pm when she accidentally turned on her battery-powered, Hello Kitty toothbrush that she insists on sleeping with, and then proceeded to turn on the lights and climb up on the change table, for reasons that I cannot explain. She was perfectly willing to go back to bed when I went to her, so I guess it was just a sick/tired thing.

In happier, personal news, we got our new, king-size bed yesterday! Now hubby and I don't have to touch ever again! Given the amount of mucus I have been producing, I'm sure that he is letting out a huge sigh of relief. I've been on a bit of a decorating kick for the past few months, so it's kind of exciting to actually see things coming together. The bed frame is still a few weeks away, but I feel like I'm getting somewhere nonetheless. So we now have that trendy blue/brown combo in the bedroom, and we are soon to be rid of those "temporary" paper window coverings that have been up for almost three years. The next step is to get a couple of lounge chairs, which will no doubt become the most expensive dog beds that ever there were. That's probably the only reason that hubby even wants to get those chairs. Making the dogs happy seems to be paramount to him. Freak.

Maple Sugar and Odds 'N Ends

First of all, Happy Birthday Mom!

Today, my mom, my husband, Pumpkin and I spent the morning at Sugarbush Maple Syrup Festival at the Bruce's Mill Conservation area. My mom is never one to shy away from words like, "sugar", Pumpkin will go wherever she is promised horses, and I nearly fell off my chair when hubby chose to skip a few hours of work to join us. All I could think about was the maple taffy that they were going to make by pouring hot syrup on to the snow. Ohhhhh, that was gonna be my highlight! Guess what? Government regulations now forbid the "unhygienic" practice of making taffy this way. Please refer back to my photograph from yesterday to see the expression on my face when I heard this news. After that, there was just no point in hanging around. To be honest, I wasn't enamoured by the whole event. There was a very small petting zoo, quick pony rides, a five minute wagon ride, a place to have pancakes, and a guided tour through the maple sugar bush, which was also kind of brief. It wasn't the most ideal place to take a two-year-old, although it was something different that didn't involve Wiggles videos, so I probably shouldn't complain. Pumpkin couldn't have handled much more given that she is coming down with my cold, which is now on day eight, btw. Pumpkin is being much more graceful about it than I have been.

In Pumpkin news, I entered her bedroom this morning to get her up for the day, and found her lying on her change table, giving me the order to change her diaper. Don't you think it would be much easier to go and sit on a potty than to climb up on a change table? I would have thought so too. I have once again become one of those mothers who I used to make fun of. "Geez lady, if your kid can actually ask for a diaper change, don't you think it's time to lose the diapers?" Yup, I do, although I have no clue how to make it happen.

Finally, it occurred to me today that the photo that I posted yesterday was the first head-on pic that I have ever published on my blog. It isn't the first impression that I wanted to make, so behold, the real me:

I am not really a cross between Jennifer Aniston, Sean Penn and Lisa Marie Presley. My hair is actually curly, and I really do smile often. This particular smile probably had to do with the fact that I was in the process of ordering Chinese food instead of actually cooking for my family.

Day Seven

That's right. It's day seven of this crappy cold. I am starting to have bouts of feeling better, but I still can't breath. Incidentally, since I've been feeling bad all week, I decided to give myself a little pick-me-up by having my hair done. If I can't feel good, I might as well look good...

...or not.

Evening Recap

This is day six of the obligatory pregnancy cold (I don't know anyone who hasn't gotten one while pregnant), and I think I'm finally starting to improve. I just had a lobster and crab soup from the Red Tomato, which seems to have made all the difference. We were crazy enough to venture out in this storm as we wanted to check out Toronto's Art Expo down at the convention centre. We decided to take the subway just to be safe, which was probably better than trying to drive in this weather. The show was ok, but it was really difficult to appreciate anything when there was so much to see in so little time. We just gathered business cards and will probably check out the artist's web sites on our own time. Making our way to the restaurant afterwards was crazy in terms of the wind and cold that we had to battle for all of ten minutes, but it was all worth it for the soup. Anyhow, we made it home in one piece, and have the next 12 hours to ourselves. Pumpkin is staying at my mom's tonight, so we can whoop it up for a while. Shit. Daylight savings. We have the next 11 hours to ourselves, which isn't as good as twelve, but still worth something. As much as I'd love to tell you that we have romantic plans, I think a sinus rinse and maybe 9 hours of sleep are higher on the agenda. G'night all.

Cheerio! Now Piss off!

My daughter appears to have flunked out of ballet today. It was the last day of her eight-week session, and there was a recital, complete with dads and video cameras. As usual, Pumpkin didn't follow all of the instructions, but she wasn't the only one. The other kids didn't do as they were told either, but they at least sat with their moms while their moms pointed and flexed their own toes. At a previous class, I actually said to the teacher that it is a good thing that she isn't a stickler for precise following of instructions. The instructor just shrugged and said, "They're still babies." My sentiments exactly. At the end of today's class, we approached the instructor, a former dancer herself, and told her that we had registered for another session to see if we can get Pumpkin a little more involved. I would have thought that the teacher would have been excited by this, as we are making an effort to encourage Pumpkin in this teacher's chosen field. Instead, the teacher gave a look of I'm not sure what, and suggested in her snooty, British accent that a little more parental control might help, but that we can't force these kids to do things that they don't want to do. (I know that the British are lovely people, but the accent needs to be mentioned as it does help emphasize the snootiness of it all) What happened to, "They're still babies."? My kid is freakin' two and a half!!! How can someone not-so-subtly hint that we should not re-register given the current performance of our two and a half year old??? It's not like it's a refined school for dancing. It's at my local community centre! Well, I had no problem unregistering for that class when I got home. We'll just take our mad skills someplace else!

Thursday Thirteen

Why Being Pregnant and Having a Cold at the Same Time is a Drag

1. My favourite remedies are not pregnancy-approved

2. I don't feel I can take any of the pregnancy-approved cold remedies because of fears that ten years from now, those remedies may no longer be considered safe. I don't want to be one of the cases that goes on to prove this.

3. With bladder control being compromised by the actual pregnancy, all the coughing and sneezing is making things a real challenge

4. Much desired hot drinks such as tea are problematic. The good ones have caffeine, which is a no-no in large doses. The herbal ones can all be found to be possibly problematic during pregnancy if you search the internet long enough. Everything else has "scary" chemicals or too much sugar. Coffee just plain grosses me out while pregnant.

5. People seem to roll their eyes at me for what appears to be paranoia.

6. If the un-medicated cold itself doesn't keep me awake in bed, the discomfort of having a distended belly will take over the job

7. There is no way I can be alert or lucid enough to come up with thirteen of these things. This is a half-assed Thursday Thirteen. Sorry.

No More Crib

Wordless Wednesday

More Wordless Wednesday Participants

Crib Be Gone and Other Stuff

Last night, Pumpkin spent the whole night in her new bed. As mentioned previously, I could not keep her in it with the fish bribe alone, but I also had to transfer her musical birdie thingy over to the bed, which she apparently cannot sleep without. She woke up an hour earlier than normal, but she was in a strange room/bed, and I still have those paper, temporary blinds up, which do let a lot of light in. Today for her nap, I was not having success with the fish or the birdie thingy, so I tried another tactic. I told her that if she didn't get into the bed, I was taking the fish away. Instant compliance! It worked again this evening when I was putting her to bed. I'm sure that some of you think I'm being a little mean, but I know that Pumpkin needs a little push. She LOVES her crib. There has never been an incidence where she has tried to climb out of it, although there have been many instances of her climbing into it. She has spent many waking hours just singing and playing in her crib, and never seems to want to come out whenever I suggest it. That is why I'm being so pushy about this. I seriously doubt that she would come out of the crib on her own any time soon. This whole tactic has also helped me gain some control over her as she has really been doing that two-year-old-test-my-parents-all-the-time sort of thing lately. I'm not a control freak, but I'd like to be the boss while I still can be. So I am presuming that this battle is won! On to other matters.

I have been a very reluctant cook for the past few months, so a few weeks ago I vowed that I would try a new recipe a week from here on in. It took me three weeks to get to the first one, but hey, I did it. Tonight I spent about two hours making Thai Mango Chicken with Hoisin Sauce, and didn't really like it. Doesn't that just suck! The recipe sounded great, it took a heck of a lot of time to make, and I didn't enjoy my meal. No wonder I'm a reluctant cook!

I've got a cold and cannot take any drugs 'cause of this pregnancy thing. I just shot saline solution up my nose and don't feel any better for it. I took a nap yesterday in the day to try to get some recovery, but all that did was keep me awake until three in the morning while I tried desperately to fall asleep. I've also hit the point in this pregnancy where there is no comfortable sleeping position, which definitely added to my sleep woes. Funny, I'm not hearing any violins...

Crib to Bed Transition - Take Three

Ok, so I got a fish. I have to be honest, I hate having a fish. I don't even like having plants given that they require a bit of attention, so now I have a fish to feed and water to change. That aside, we have a fish, purchased as bribery to keep Pumpkin in her new room. Urban Mommy and Kittenpie suggested the idea of moving the crib into the new room such that the changes going on occur in "baby steps", but I'm holding off on that idea for one reason - I have to take the crib apart to get it through the door. Yes, I am capable of that, but it sounds like too much work and I'd rather try avoiding it if possible. So yeah, I'm bitching about simple tasks such as taking care of plants, fish, and a little bit of manual labour. I just don't want this parenting gig to be too much trouble, that's all. Not too much to ask, is it? So anyhow, after moving the fish into the new room, Pumpkin was semi-excited, but not excited enough to nap there today. Tonight, she seemed keen on sleeping in the room with the fish, so I moved her musical birdie thingy into the new room and attached it to one of the guard rails. When she ran out of bed-time stories, she got upset and tried to move back into the crib, which I didn't fight, but I decided not to move the musical birdie thingy back to the crib. After moving all her toys and blankie from the bed to the crib, she requested that I move them back to the bed so she could be with the musical birdie thingy. This seems to be more important than the fish. Incidentally, I've got a small light on the fish so that she can see it all night, and so that she can see where she is. Anyhow, since she was big-girl enough to move back to the bed, I gave her another story, and said goodnight. She is in the bed now, still awake, talking, and playing with toys. I have a feeling that she may actually fall asleep there as she is not upset or making too much of a ruckus. Stay tuned for the update. Oh, and thank you to those of you who have given me suggestions on what to do here. Keep 'em coming - we're not out of the woods yet.

Your Assistance is Required

I'm trying to get Pumpkin into her new room, and into her big-girl bed. So far, no luck. Tonight was a bit of a fiasco as she was overtired, so I shouldn't have even tried, but I do want to persevere. We were at a friends place today, and they have a tank of fish that Pumpkin was excited about. When we got home, Pumpkin kept asking for fish, so I told her that I'd get her one if she slept in her big-girl bed. Delayed gratification is not Pumpkin's strong point. I got her into the bed for her good-night stories, but when no fish appeared, she packed up her things and climbed back into the crib. Do you think that if I got her a fish and it lived in her new room, she might want to sleep in that room? Or instead, should I be a bit cruel and simply remove the crib from her old room? Any advice from all of you seasoned moms and dads? I've got four months until the new baby moves in, and I'd like there to be time between the two events.

Random Events at the Mall

Before I say anything else, I would like to thank Melissa from Part of Everything for awarding me my first blog award ever. She was kind enough to think of me back when I wasn't writing much, so this is a delayed expression of gratitude. You make my day too, Melissa. I'm not sure what the protocol is for passing this along, but I don't think I can do it right now. I just came back from seeing, "I'm Not There", and I feel way too tired and confused to get organized enough to things properly. I'm not sure if I'm just stupid, or if the movie was stupid, but I do know that I know less about Bob Dylan now than I did before I saw the film. It was pretty whack. Hubbby was equally confused by the end of it, so the only thing left to do was head over to Dairy Queen for a Scor Bar Blizzard. It helped to ease the pain.

I had a pretty interesting trip to the mall yesterday. A guy selling make-up at one of those temporary booths located in the middle of the mall hallway jumped out at me and said, "You Italian?"
"No."
"Spanish?"
"No."
"Portuguese?"
"No."
"What are you then?"
I should have just darted, but I stood there, listing off my eastern European countries of origin, which clearly weren't satisfying this guy. Then I added, "...and I'm Jewish", which gave him the "exotic" background that he was looking for. I always wondered why people listed Jewish as their background, as I generally regarded it as a religion, but I now realize that it is in fact a culture, with a sometimes-stereotypical look that I may or may not have. Either way, he was pleased with that and dragged me over to a chair to sell me on some make-up. I found him to be slimy, but I generally try to be polite, so I heard him out. After he finished his demo, he hit me with the pricing, which didn't interest me as I wasn't buying anything. Then he tried to sweeten the deal, but I still wasn't buying. Then he said, "You're a Jew, right? I'll give you my best deal then." Did he really say that? How can a guy say something like that when he's trying to sell something??? I really don't consider myself to be overly sensitive to such matters, and I really don't think that I have a chip on my shoulder, but that was out of line, right? Not being one for confrontation, I politely dismissed his offer and walked off, shaking my head.

So then I went to get my watch repaired, and the guy doing the repair said to me, "Are you Italian? Spanish? Portuguese?" I started to wonder if I was being Punked. Nope. Ashton Kutcher was nowhere to be seen. I must exude something that prompts guys to question my origin as a conversation starter. Then he basically started hitting on me with a thick layer of flattery that I honestly didn't mind. I figured I'd point out my almost six month pregnant belly, which fazed him a bit, but then he got over it and asked if I was married. It must be the prenatal glow. Nothing boosts a pregnant woman's self-esteem more than being hit on by random strangers.