Category: crankiness

Cabin. Fever.

It’s been a looong, looooong, loooooooong week. The kind of long week that induces me to add extra letters to words. Exxxxtra letttters.

There hasn’t been anything particularly bad going on, so I really shouldn’t complain. But I’ll complain anyhow.

Daycare was closed. Seeing as I am crazy about my kids, that shouldn’t sound like a bad thing. However, I am so not cut out to be a stay-at-home mother. I guess much of the problem was in how much we stayed at home. We had various plans for various days, but many of them fell through for various reasons. For another thing, I still had some work obligations to tend to, so it wasn’t actually vacation time.

We did get out on Wednesday for a bit, which was before all this snow started falling. After being out and about for a while, I thought it would be nice to go somewhere for a snack. I found myself hankering for a latte (a decaf soy latte, mind you), and the only place to find such a thing in the towns near our home is a large chain bookstore. That particular endeavor ended in me leaving the bookstore in disgrace with a crying baby, one newly purchased $4.99 Dora book which I had tried to read to Phoebe, but which we couldn’t finish due to said crying baby, and a little less dignity. I did at least get to have my latte first. (Though I burned my tongue on it, and had to wait what seemed an eternity for it to cool, and then had to chug it anyhow when Theo ran out of patience at being stuck at the table after hours of largely being strapped in to a carseat or a stroller. Good times.)

I looked forward to the weekend, when John would be available so we could all go out together on some fun excursion. Friday things were mostly closed for the holiday, so we didn’t try. We made plans for Saturday, but then it snowed, and it set us back. We thought we try for Sunday, but there was more snow. And somehow, we never managed to go anywhere. And while Phoebe likes to go out in the snow, Theo, so far, does not. (Also, I can’t for the life of me find his snowpants. Our house eats things.) The result is that I have not actually left the house in days. I can’t actually tell you where the time has gone. I know I did some baking. I made apple sauce (from baked apples) and a pumpkin pie, and Phoebe and I made bread again. There have been some movies watched. There have been some toys played with. Some phone calls. I’ve had very little time on my laptop, other than late at night, and much of that was for work. I check in for brief spells during the day, but Theo has this tendency to come over to the couch and close my laptop whenever I open it.

I have to say that I am really looking forward to Tuesday, when Phoebe and Theo go back to daycare. It’s not that I don’t like spending time with them. It’s just that I appreciate spending time with them more when I get to have a bit of time when I can focus on other things.

—
And speaking of focussing on my children, here are some pictures I took.

undesirable

Almost done with my antibiotics

I’m pretty sure I haven’t mentioned it here, but I found a tick on me a few weeks ago. Talk about undesirable.

It was pretty surprising to find a tick in November, but we’ve had some pretty unseasonably warm weather up here in the Northeast of the US. We live in a heavily wooded area, so ticks are pretty common. I was pretty skeeved out, but not too concerned otherwise. I thought it was a small-sized dog tick, and not a deer tick. (Deer ticks can carry Lyme Disease, but dog ticks don’t.) I also thought the tick had only been on me for a few hours anyhow, and apparently ticks need to be attached for at least 36 hours before they can transmit Lyme Disease. However, about a week and a half after removing the tick, and well after the initial trauma from the tick removal had healed, I started to get a rash at the site of the bite. So either the tick had been on me longer than I’d realized, or our clumsy removal of it had caused the tick to transfer the bacteria faster.

My doctor prescribed a 2-week course of antibiotics for me. I just took the preantipenultimate pill. I’m happy that I’ve only got another day left to go, because the antibiotics have done a number on me, and I have been feeling pretty wiped out and was actually pretty sick for a few days. On the other hand, I’ll gladly take 2 weeks of feeling awful over the longer-term feeling awfulness associated with full-blown Lyme Disease. The rash cleared up right away, so it seems that the antibiotic is working.

But you know what? It really sucks taking care of 2 small children when you are feeling awful. I have found myself being (even) crankier than usual. It’s hard to be patient and cheerful when you just want to curl up in a ball on the floor. I don’t know how I would have coped if I hadn’t been able to take the kids to daycare some of the days, or if John hadn’t been around. (How do stay at home parents manage when they are sick? Or single parents?)

It was such a relief when I felt better, but then Theo has been sick the last few days. I’m not sure whether he’s got the intestinal bug that a couple of other kids at daycare had, or whether he’s also reacting to the antibiotics getting passed on to him through me. (He’s still nursing.) In any case, he has been sleeping worse than usual. And now it seems he’s getting a cold. Phoebe has seemed a bit under the weather, too. Or perhaps she’s just been more needy in reaction to my crankiness.

Life has generally been more than ordinarily crazy the last couple months. John has been working pretty much around the clock, 7 days a week. I’ve had work deadlines, too. And did you know that there’s some sort of major holiday coming up soon for which we’ll be expected to do things like decorate and purchase (and even mail) presents? We as yet have no tree, and I haven’t even started Christmas shopping.

(If it’s any indication of the craziness of our household, I took the above photo on Saturday for the PhotoHunt theme of “undesirable,” and started drafting the post. And I still have yet to get it finished. I decided not to actually submit this as a Photohunt entry, anyhow, because I doubt most people participating in that really need this much detail about my life. But I figured I might as well still use the title.)

Monday’s efforts to amuse

    Another Monday Mission’s come-
    Can’t think of what to write.
    Realizing this may seem dumb,
    Or maybe somewhat trite.
    Should I just post some tripe and run?
    Type nonsense (that’s the gist).
    In just a moment I’ll be done…
    Cross this one off the list.

—-

Today’s Monday Mission, in case you hadn’t guessed, was to write a post in the form of an acrostic. I decided to go all meta on you.

I seem to have come down with a case of crankiness. (I’m not sure where I caught it. Since I know how contagious it is, though, I’ll try to keep my distance.)

In my crankiness, though, I kept thinking about the acrostic message that “accidentally” came through in a veto memo from Arnold Schwarzenegger, also known as the Governator of California.

For more (less cranky) acrostics, stop by Painted Maypole.

validation and renewal

I find myself cranky today, for no good reason. Well, it’s rainy, and I have a lot of work to do. I also need to get myself down to the RMV to get my driver’s license renewed, as it’s only valid for a couple more weeks.

I’ve had the license for 10 years now, which means I have to get a new photo for it, too. So I don’t get to renew online. Aside from the laziness factor, and not wanting to waste my productive hours hauling my cranky ass down to stand in line and deal with potentially cranky RMV employees, I should probably be glad to get a new photo.

I got my first driver’s license in California when I was 17. It was a really good photo. I mean, really good. One of those photos that look better than the live person. I remember at least one occasion when some guy at the CVS counter looked at my license and asked if I was a model. Heh.

I think I may have had that license (or at least the same photo on it, since I had to get my actual license replaced when I was mugged) till we moved to Massachusetts in 1995. I lived in Rhode Island for about 6 years, but didn’t have a car there. I may have had a license there, but I don’t really remember it.

I don’t remember, either, what the photo looked like in that first Massachusetts license. I don’t think it was particularly good, because what I do remember is the determination to get me a good photo for the next license.

I remember the day well that I went for renewal. I made efforts to wear a flattering color, wore make-up (which I almost never do). It was a good hair day, even. And then I stood in line for over an hour in stuffy hallway on a hot day. By the time I got called to get my photo, I was tired, sticky, limp-haired, and just in a hurry to get out of there. My interest in getting a flattering photo was drained out of me. The forced smile under the glare of the glasses has been irking me for 10 whole years.

So now I get to prepare for the next 10-year photo. I haven’t had a haircut in over a year. I’m pretty sure no one will mistake me for a model now, with my glasses and perma-ponytail look. I’m okay with that, as long as I can manage a less downtrodden expression.

Maybe what I need is some validation:

Check out at least the first few minutes, if you don’t have time for the whole movie. Found via BipolarLawyerCook, who is back online with a spankin’ new url, after her old blog disappeared for a couple of months. Glad you’re back, BLC!

So, what about you? Have you ever had a really good ID photo? Or a really bad one?

excuses, excuses (ad nauseam)

Dear Blogosphere,

Please excuse Alejna’s continued absence from posting and visiting and other blog-related activities. She has been recovering from a blechy stomach virus, which has been making her feel really icky since Wednesday night. She has also been tending to a very sick sweet Phoebe, who was hit even harder by the nasty bug. Also to a teething Theo, who thankfully seems not to be overly affected by the virus.

Alejna hopes to return to her regular blog attendance in the next couple of days, and hopes she can be allowed to turn in any missed assignments at that time.

Sincerely,

Alejna’s Largely Neglected Laptop

So much for jumping right back into blogging.

I was feeling really great Wednesday morning, if just starting to deal with the the 3-hour time difference. I took Phoebe late to daycare, ran some errands with Theo, then came home. At which point I noticed that the contractor we’ve been working with installed a different door on our deck than the one we discussed. (Have I mentioned we’ve been dealing with home repais?) Then I tried to do a little work, trying to hold on to my recent productivity, and encountered a big setback in my research. So I turned to the internet for solace, and skimmed through friends’ recent status updates on Facebook. And saw that azahar, who had been told she was clear of any signs of cancer, now has evidence of two new tumors. Fuck.

These various things, combined with jetlag, left me feeling drained, and then queasy with worry for the evening. Or at least I thought it was the anxiety causing the queasiness. The 101 fever seemed a bit much. And then when my anxiety caused Phoebe to start vomiting, I realized that there was probably something else going on, too.

John was up with Phoebe just about all night. Theo was also quite fussy, though that may have just been teething. (His first tooth broke through Thursday night.) Phoebe was sicker than we’ve ever seen her on Thursday, and recovery’s been pretty slow. I’ve had a much milder version of whatever it is, but I haven’t managed to eat normal food until today. It’s been largely impossible for me to get in the sort of calories I need to keep up with Theo’s feeding.

We’re glad this didn’t hit us while we were on the trip. And relieved that John has (at least so far) seemed to have missed it. (I don’t know how single parents manage sometimes.) John has some important work deadlines he’s got to keep working towards, too.

We largely gave up on trying to adjust to the time zone, so we are still on West Coast time. Sleep, whenever we could get it, seemed more important than paying attention to the clocks.

I’m still feeling pretty icky, but am clearly on the mend. Phoebe’s mostly better, but is now afraid both of sleeping in her own bed, and of vomiting. Theo is still teething, and may have a second tooth about to pop through.

I haven’t really managed to get online much, so I’m sorry for my continued neglect. Thanks so much for your comments on my last post, and thanks to anyone else who is still reading for standing by.

I’ll be back for real. Sometime. Soon, I hope.

p.s. The March Just Posts are just around the corner, and they need you! Have you read posts this month that moved you or made you think about topics of relating to social justice? Have you written one? There’s still time. For more info, check out the info page.

p.p.s. Just to add to my general crankiness, I am informed that my post title contained a spelling error, so I have fixed it.

cough, cough

No, I’m not just trying to get your attention. Well, maybe I am.

Our household has been beset by a plague of mucus. I’ve been feeling pretty worn out. It’s no fun tending to a sick baby when sick oneself. I can’t tell you the number of times when I’ve finally gotten Theo to settle down and then had to cough or sneeze, causing him to wake up and/or get riled up. Phoebe and John are both sick, too. We are a fun bunch.

The laundry situation recently became so dire that yesterday I found myself wearing an “outfit” that defies description. Let me describe it to you, and defy its description-defyingness.

Finding that all pants fitting my current size were sufficiently soiled with various baby-related fluids that even I wouldn’t wear them, I was pleased to discover that my maternity yoga pants actually fit moderately well, if rather differently than they did a few months ago. They are velour, in a very pretty dark plum color. (Yes, I’m saying I put on some fuzzy purple pants.) I next surveyed my shirt options. Because it’s freakin’ cold here, I like to wear a long-sleeved t-shirt layered under a sweater. The only such long-sleeved shirt remaining in my closet was my Halloween shirt. Orange. “Fuck it,” I said. (And I believe that’s an exact quote.) I grabbed the damn orange shirt, layered a blue hoodie on top, and next went on a quest for socks.

I have a gazillion socks in a pile. Almost none of which seem to match. The only pair I could muster were a sort of raspberry color, no doubt remaining only because I don’t generally willingly wear them. (I can’t remember what words I used when I made this discovery.)

I did find myself thinking, though, and for the second time in less than a week, “someday soon, I will embarrass my children.” (Now that I think about it, the other time was a sock-related incident, too. A public sock-related incident.)

It’s a glamorous life I lead.

weaving out of control

overwhelmed and under pressure
buckling under, in over my head
fruitflies overtake an underripe banana

overeducated and underdressed
chronic overachiever feeling snowed under
underestimated tasks, schedule overloaded
commitments overlapping and under the gun
time to shave underarms when hell freezes over

overwrought and under attack
hot under the collar I overreact
overeasy eggs have undercooked yolks

overextended and underfunded
tree branches overhang, basement floor under water
the undergrowth is overgrown
overdue bills crackle under foot
in under the roof, squirrels overrun the attic

overprivileged and underproductive
an overstuffed sofa cushion under my butt
get over yourself and get underway
the monkey’s overboard and the undertow pulls

overtired and under the weather
overconfidence getting undermined
soft underbelly feels overexposed
overanxious thoughts swept under the carpet
laundry overflowing and no clean underwear

overwritten and underwhelming
an overzealous undertaking
overblown metaphors from under my hat
overcooked pasta with underseasoned sauce

I’m a loser, baby…

And my time is a piece of wax
Falling on a termite
That’s choking on the splinters
                             -Beck

I lost my car keys today. I hate losing things.

Theo has been fussy the past couple days. Phoebe went to daycare yesterday (she still goes 3 days a week, which helps us maintain some sanity, and which helps me preserve the illusion that I will be able to get some of my research done), but it was such a fussy day that I was clearly not going to accomplish anything requiring either more than one hand or more than half a brain. I hoped to at least get out of the house, but I barely managed to get dressed and eat breakfast by the time Phoebe was due to come home. By the end of the day I was going a bit stir-crazy.

Theo seemed more calm today, and I was bound and determined to get out. I got a bit of extra sleep, and then managed to get us out the door some time before one. Theo needs some warmer pajamas, so I decided to head to a used children’s clothing store. (I try to explore the reuse options for kids’ clothing. We’ve been lucky to have a large number of hand-me-downs for Theo, including many of Phoebe’s old things.) Then I was going to stop by a fabric store to further my goals of getting together some Halloween costumes. I also thought I might pick up some lunch, as I hadn’t wanted to delay leaving by eating.

My first stop was the used clothing store. Theo was asleep when I got there, and I carried him into the store in his carrier. I spent quite a bit of time in the store, poking around for things for Phoebe as well as Theo, checking out the sale racks and Halloween costumes. Digging through bins of winter hats and mittens. Basically roaming the whole store. I bought quite a few things for both Phoebe and Theo, and took my big bag of clothes and my still-sleeping bucket of baby back to the car. Only to find that I could not actually get in the car. My keys were not in my pocket.

The keys were clearly not in the car, as I’d used the remote to lock the car. Also not on the ground. So I went back in the store to see if they’d been found. I figured that the keys must have fallen out of my pocket while I was shopping. I seriously expected to find them quite quickly. It’s a fairly small, if densely stocked, store. But I looked all over the store, as did the manager and other empoyees. We looked on the floor, in the bins of hats, around the register, in my bag of purchases, the car seat… Nothing. I expect they will find the keys some day, probably stuck to a hanger or in the folds of some hanging item of clothing. Or perhaps one of the various kids that had been playing in the store pocketed them, or stashed them in some toy or shoe.

The people at the store were very helpful, and were nice enough to let me sit in the back room to feed Theo. The manager let me use her phone to call John, and suggested that we could get the car dealership to make a new key for us. Remarkably, John had gone to a meeting in the same town as our car dealership, so this was faster than having him go home and hunt for the other keys.

I ended up spending about 3 hours in the store, what with the time spent shopping, then looking for the keys, then tending to Theo, then waiting for John. I could have gone to lunch, but by the time the plans were underway, it was 3:00, and the closest feasible food options closed at 3:00. I didn’t want to walk too far, as I didn’t have my cell phone. (I also left the diaper bag in the car, as I hadn’t planned to be in the store very long. Sigh.)

Really, things were not that bad. John was able to get and bring me a replacement key (4, actually), all in time to get Phoebe from daycare. Meanwhile, I was in a safe, moderately comfortable place. Theo was with me, and I was able to feed him and walk and bounce him around to calm him, which is largely what I do all day at home anyhow. There was a bathroom, water to drink, a chair to sit in, and the manager even found me some nuts to eat. It was hardly harrowing.

But damn I felt like a loser.

Update: The store called. A customer found my keys stuck to a sweater on one of the racks. Yay. I guess.

(Also, it appears I can’t embed the Beck “Loser” video.)