Author Archives: metamegan

>Where in the World is MetaMegan?

>Where have I been? Le Sigh. I have been very busy trying to incorporate more cardio into my life and then recovering on the couch for days in front of Six Feet Under marathons. Also I have a bit of a cold.

Dave found coupons to Breckenridge for $10, so we decided to see if there was room for Jack at the daycare this past Wednesday so we could go together. There wasn’t room. Cue panic. See, I worked half time from home with Luke until he was about 10 months old. Perfect little Luke who slept until 8 am everyday and took a 2 hour nap every morning. But at 10 months I thought, wow, he really needs more attention and stimulation then I can give him while simultaneously working. So somewhere in the back of my head I have been pondering the fact that Jack is ready for a little more daycare. I ponder this when Jack is hanging from the top rung of the dishwasher, or surfing on his rocking chair. But I have really enjoyed being home with him. I love the time we have had together. I haven’t loved that my work day often starts again at 8pm and goes until midnight, or that I have to go into a complete panic if a work problem comes up when Jack doesn’t feel like entertaining himself. So when I heard the infant room was full on Wednesdays, I got really worried. I always thought I had Wednesday in my back pocket, ready when I needed it. So, I asked if Jack could start going on Wednesdays when he transitions to the toddler room. Answer: Yes! Hoorah! As much as I love Jack, I felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted. I currently spend every Wednesday working through his naps, and working whenever he feels the desire to play independantly for 3 minutes, and checking email every 5 minutes when he needs more attention, and then working after bedtime every night. So then I said, “Wait, when is Jack moving to the toddler room?” And the answer was, February.” And then I was back to, “Wah! My baby! He can’t be a toddler yet. Wah wah wah. I’m not ready for him to go to daycare on Wednesdays.”

And then yesterday happened. And yes, at one point he was hanging from the top rung of the dishwasher. I’ll let the photos tell the rest of the story.

“Poor me, I have to read to myself while my mommy works”:

“I’ll have this expression on my face later when I climb to the tallest point in every room in the house”:


“I can now grab the camera off the kitchen counter and this is how I feel when you take it from me”:


“Hey, you turned your back on me to wash a dish. This is what you get. You think I’m kidding? I’ll show you!”:

>File Under Odd

>There is now a Ruby in the infant room with Jack. I thought that was cute and exciting because there was a Ruby in the infant room with Luke, and they are great friends to this day. When I noticed the name Ruby in the cubby area I said, “Oh! A Ruby! How cute. I wonder if she and Jack will be best friends like Luke and Ruby?” The answer was something like, “Um, she’s a new baby. We just try to keep Jack away from her as much as possible.” Poor Jack, I think he is so close to outgrowing the infant room. Bittersweet, my baby is growing up, stuff for another post, etc.

But here is the odd thing. I noticed that there is a Ruby because she and Jack share a cubby. I guess maybe because she is the youngest and Jack is on his way out? So this is how their cubby is labelled: Jack Ruby. Is that odd? I find that odd. I guess it would be weirder if Lee, Harvey and Oswald shared a cubby though.

>Diabolical

>Some of you readers may be horrified to learn that I am still nursing Jack. The reason is due more to laziness than any other sort of personal choice. I am too lazy to figure out how to wean, and way too lazy to deal with a hungry baby at 5am in some manor that involves more than stumbling into his room and sitting in a chair for 15 minutes. Also, I am sure I read somewhere that babies, on average, have and extra IQ point for every month they nurse past 6 months. OK, maybe I am making that up, but it sounds good, right?

I have also been reading online debates here and there about extended breastfeeding and whether it is “good” and “what everyone else in the world does” and “makes your kids smarter” or if it’s “icky” and “weird” and “not normal.” I often see the comment, “When they are old enough to ask for it, they are too old.” Jack does not do the sign for milk, or please, or more when he wants to nurse. He doesn’t say any of those words either. In the morning, well, we are both pretty sleepy, so he communicates with some whimpers. In the evening, if it has gotten to be past bedtime, he mostly just grabs my neckline and starts growling. So, my opinion on the whole extended breastfeeding (don’t know the actual meaning of the term – it may mean past two years) besides, “why would anyone care what someone else is doing?” is “A polite request would seem like an improvement over the growling.”

In other news, our basement is sort of a mess, and at the moment is not baby proof so we really need to keep an eye on Jack. As he headed for the end table today, Luke grabbed the remotes, Dave got the glass bottle, and I grabbed my nail polish and hid it somewhere. My pocket? Behind my back? Jack was very mad about all this, so I picked him up and started to try to console/distract him. He started growling and tugging on my shirt, so I started to nurse him. He nursed for a while. Then he got up and walked away.

He had the nail polish in his hand.

Maybe those extra IQ points aren’t such a good idea after all.

>Megan without a G

>
Megan without a G is mean. As in, “Megan doesn’t have her G today!” a common lament heard throughout my childhood. OK, so I am mean. I considered making a new years resolution to be nicer but immediately dismissed the idea. I think some of my humor comes from a tiny mean streak that I have, and I don’t want to lose my sense of humor. Exercising and eating right seem like more attainable resolutions anyway. I only had four cookies today so I am off to a great start.

If you know me, and you don’t think I am mean, I am sorry to say that you just haven’t known me long enough. One day, you’ll think, “Hmm, yeah, I see it now.”

Or maybe you won’t have to wait that long. Just read on, and see what I mean.

We went to the Aquarium for my birthday and I was sitting with both kids on my lap, posing for a picture in front of the shark tank. It was the area of the aquarium that was the most wide open, with the fewest people and the largest, widest tank you could imagine. I mean, sharks live in there. It was big and spacious. Plenty of room for everyone.

So we were posing, and I had children on my lap and Dave was playing with his phone to get it to take a good picture. And I slowly started to notice a buzzing in my ear. It got louder and louder until I noticed that the source of the buzz was a little child saying, “Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.” Once I could tell that Dave had taken the picture I turned to the child. He said, “Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.” I think he was trying to walk along the edge of the tank from one side to the other. And I was blocking it by sitting there with two children on my lap. On my birthday. I thought about moving, but then I thought, I don’t feel like moving this instant. What if the picture didn’t take. That kid can just go around. So to his, “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.” I replied, “Oh? Do you need me to move?”

And just then the mom swooped in and scooped him up. To me she said, “Well you didn’t have to be so mean to him!”

I said, “Wa? Uh? Wah?”

So if I know that I am mean, but I don’t realize that being sarcastic with a 2 year old warrants a tongue lashing from a stranger, apparently its much worse than I thought.

>Do Chipmunks Go To Heaven?

>There was an incident today. I blame Tami.

Tami and I went to Eldora today. On the first lift ride she told me this crazy story about seeing a squirrel in the middle of a run somewhere. Winter Park? It went something like this:

Tami: It was crazy. I saw a squirrel in the middle of a run at Winter Park.
MetaMegan: That is crazy.
Tami: Yeah, I think it’s the only time I have ever seen wildlife when I was skiing. And it was just a squirrel.
MetaMegan: Once I saw a porcupine at Vail.
Tami: Really? That’s crazy.
MetaMegan: Yeah, I think that is the only wildlife I have seen,
Tami: I know, you see tracks all the time, but never the animals. I would like to see more animals.

Fast forward a few runs and we were headed to the Corona lift along a terrible, icy, hard packed cat walk. I felt a twinge of guilt that I forgot to tell Tami that you have to go 1000 mph at the start or else run out of steam and fall, and have to take your snowboard partway off and hike to the top of the next hill before you get going for a little bit, but then you aren’t going fast enough and it happens again. It’s sort of rough. Also, it was 4 degrees. So if you were going fast enough, then any exposed skin started to freeze.

So, I was flying, when out of the woods came a chipmunk. Right at me. There was nothing I could do. So I screamed. And then when I both heard and felt a thud underneath my snowboard I screamed again. And then I turned and looked over my shoulder and I thought I saw a chipmunk hobbling off into the forest. There were two witnesses:

Witness1: I’ve never seen anything like that.
MetaMegan: Me neither
Wintess1: That was so crazy.
Metamegan: I know.
Witness2: He’s going to die, you know.
MetaMegan: It was an accident! There was no way I could have avoided him!
Witness1: You don’t even want to know what happened.
MetaMegan: I think someone just told me.
Witness1: Well, I think it was quick at least.

Witness1 (from a distance): OMG – See that girl over there, you are never going to believe this…

Meanwhile I was waiting and waiting for Tami. She finally arrived:

MetaMegan: Whatever happened to you can’t be worse that what happened to me.
Tami: I had to take my goggles off because they got steamed up from the tears I was crying.
MetaMegan: You win, what happened?
Tami: I think I broke my tailbone.
MetaMegan: I ran over a chipmunk with my snowboard and killed it.
Tami: Oh my God. Is there blood on your snowboard?

So then Tami and I were on the lift sharing stories of people falling off ski lifts and we realized, if our earlier discussion about wanting to see wildlife conjured a chipmunk out of nowhere, we should choose our subject matter wisely. In fact, we should just leave and nurse our physical and spiritual wounds over a beer in the comfort of my living room. So that is what we did, being careful what we said or thought the whole way home.

In retrospect, it turns out we were pretty lucky that we didn’t conjure up any bad ski lift karma.

>In Some Ways, Bean is Still With Us: Part 2

>This morning I was groggily preparing breakfast for Jack after quite a night. (I went to bed late, and then was paged at 12:45, and 3:45, and Jack was up to be nursed at 5am and then up for the day at 7:30.) I was starting my work day, and cooking something for Jack and I left the cabinet open, and Jack helped himself to a tube of graham crackers. I didn’t think he could open them, and he was having a great time walking around crinkling. With all the crinkling, I knew where he was without having to watch him, so it seemed like a great way to keep him occupied for 3 minutes. Then for some reason, I walked down the hallway and back. When I got back, Jack had half a graham cracker in each hand and the balance in his mouth. He was smiling and saying, “Nom! Nom nom nom!” Cracker crumbs were tumbling down his pjs and all over the floor.

Cute, funny, not all that harmful. I plopped him into his highchair and gave him the rest of his breakfast. But where were the rest of the graham crackers? Where was the bag? I walked around looking to no avail. Then Luke woke up and asked what I was doing. I said, “I think Jack hid a bag of graham crackers somewhere so he could snack whenever he wanted.” In their short time together, Bean really did some serious knowledge transfer.

Ten minutes later Luke was yelling, “I hear crinkling! Jack is feeding himself a snack!” And Jack was indeed, behind the curtains in the dining room, helping himself to a cracker.

>The Day After

>Jack seems to be on the verge of talking. We got a Christmas card that had dogs in the picture and when Jack saw it he said, “Da! Oof!” (Dog, woof.) And he seems to be saying “ca” a lot for car. But probably the most exciting thing, because it’s a very important little boy milestone, is that he can now make a siren sound. And better than that, it’s captured on video. Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/get_player

>Gingerbread House

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From December

Last weekend was the Annual Gingerbread House Making Party at my over-achieving friend’s house. The house plans were designed by an architect friend and I really want him to publish a book of gingerbread house plans before next Christmas so that I can purchase it.

I have arrows pointed to all the outdoor equipment that Luke built for his house. Starting on the left and going clockwise, we have an orange gumdrop snowboarder, a police car (already partially consumed by Dave), an orange gumdrop scooter, and finally a sled.

I made Dave redecorate 3 times because I hadn’t taken a picture yet and he kept eating all the gumdrops. But now that the picture has been taken, the house can be eaten! In the past I have made everyone wait until after Christmas, until it’s good and stale. Then I say, “I’ll leave this out for one day and we can eat as much as we want and then I’ll get rid of the rest.” Then we forget and go somewhere and leave the gingerbread house on the counter and Bean eats the whole thing. So this year, we aren’t waiting. In fact, the awning has already been consumed. Yum!

One more view of the scooter/snow jet ski and a shot of the peppermint ATV:

From December

>On Being Careful What You Wish For

>I have sent a lot of cookies to a lot of people over the last several years, and the recipients always say, “thanks” and “they were delicious” but I always wonder if they mean it. I mean, what else are you going to say to someone who baked you an assorted variety of Christmas cookies, then lovingly packaged and shipped them? “Um, they aren’t as good as store bought” or “They were a little stale” or “Well, they were broken into a million crumbs, but I ate them over ice cream”?

I thought I solved the problem of wondering how they taste by trying to slowly eat all the cookies that I didn’t send over the course of 5 days and noting any change in freshness or deliciousness. But that process does not take into account the shaking of the box, temperature fluctuations, or as Laura pointed out yesterday, the amount of exhaust the cookies would absorb.

So this year, after I sent Dave off to the shipping store, I was thinking about the whole thing all over again. Do people like to get cookies in the mail? I think I have received cookies in the mail twice and Bean is the only one who knows how the first set turned out. The second set were professionally made and were part of a miscarriage related care package, so they were delicious, but tinged with grief.

And so, and so, and so. So I thought, “Maybe I should ship some cookies to myself and see how they taste when they get here.” This thought was dismissed after about 5 seconds of contemplation because, “only a crazy person would ship cookies to themselves to see how they taste. Right?” and “that seems like a lot of work.”

Then I checked voice mail the other day, for the first time in several weeks apparently, and I found out that the cookies I had shipped to my cousins girlfriend, who I have in the handmade-gift exchange, did not receive her cookies because they had been returned to sender. So two days later, I finally made it to the package store to pick them up and when the guy handed me the box I said, perhaps a little too excitedly, “well, now we have a box of cookies to eat! And we can see if they still taste good!” I was talking to Luke, but the guy at the counter said, “Wow. Way to find a silver lining.”

So the cookies were pretty much as good as they were when I sent them, so I still don’t really know if the cookies are as good as they are in my mind, but they weathered their travels to Cleveland and back pretty well. Some were a little stale, but my instructions say specifically to dunk them in milk or coffee if they are stale, so that solves that problem.

And all I had to do was think, maybe I should ship some cookies to myself, and poof! It happened! Well, I had to make the wish and transpose a 9 and a 2, but you get the idea. This is not the first sort of lame wish I have made that has come true.

New Years Resolution Number 1: Start wishing for cooler things!