Author Archives: metamegan

>Diabolical

>I think I have mentioned before that Jack is obsessed with electrical cords. Just when I think I have everything blocked off in one way or another, he thwarts me again. One of the cords goes behind the open bookshelves, which now contain only board books and toys, and the cord is blocked by a big bin of toys. I was sitting at the kitchen counter, working, and Jack was playing with the instruments.

Jingle, jingle, jingle. Aww, so cute.

And I was working, working, working.

Jingle, Jingle, shuffle, jingle.

Working, working, working.

Jingle, shuffle, shuffle, jingle.

Working, working, wait, did I hear shuffling?

Yes, Jack had pulled the toy box out and slipped into the bookshelf, and he had the cord in his hand. And the jingle bell? Where was that? Oh, he was jingling it with his foot so I would think he was playing nicely with the instruments.

Diabolical.

>Pre/Post Mad Men Musings

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Welcome to the, “I’m Back! And I’m going to start posting again! And using a lot of extra punctuation, (mainly parenthess!) post!”

I told Dave that I sort of feel as if I have been a zombie for the last month and I am finally back to being myself again. (ie: Toast as a side dish.) This weekend I was cleaning closets and organizing rooms and crossing things off my to do list – and this is a to do list that is so old and neglected that it has stuff on it from early September. (Sorry Katie – I never bought that baptism gift!) (Dave pointed out that I stopped looking at my to do list right around the time my blog output completely dropped off to hardly anything.) I don’t know if it was beginning of school stress, end of Bean’s life stress, or the changing seasons, but I have shed my zombie inclinations, just in time for Halloween! (Braaaains!)

Speaking of Bean, Dave and I were at a party on Friday and I was overheard saying, “Oh, plans for tomorrow? I am taking the boys to get a flu shot and then we are picking up the dog’s ashes.”

Another mom said, “Um, you might want to throw in a trip to the ice cream store or something.”

Good advice. We had a nice weekend, and the weather was perfect for a little backyard ceremony.

In other news: Jack is looking like he wants to start walking. Perfect timing because the memory on my camera is full and I can’t find the card thingy. (When Luke was about to start walking there was a smudge on my camera (birthday cake from his party) and I freaked out and ran to the camera store. They dipped a Q tip in windex and wiped off the lens.)

Moving on… ***Mad Men Spoiler*** Who watches? And do we think Don is the father of Betty’s baby? I think not. Thoughts? Just six short months until next season.

>Toast, It’s What’s For Dinner

>I seem to go through phases where everything seems to be under control, and then I have phases where two nights in a row I am serving toast as a dinner side dish because there isn’t anything else.

I think we are coming out of a toast eating phase because I ended my grocery store boycott (the remodel is finished) and I totally stocked up for the winter. We have grains! Vegetables! Snack options! And so on. I also cleaned off the kitchen counter and the top of the book shelf for the first time since Luke started school. That school is a paper and art project factory.

And I am even finished with my blog post early! Next up, I will figure out how I am going to vote on the 97 issues on the Colorado ballot so I can attempt to vote tomorrow. Because of a past issue with our mailman, I decided not to get a mail in ballot, even though Dave’s arrived just fine. We also got confirmation that our next door neighbor was registered to vote at her address. (See? See!)

In other mailman related news, the October Parents magazine that I read cover to cover (against my better judgment) in the lactation room a MONTH ago arrived in the mail today. I started to feel irate again and then I remembered, I don’t even have a subscription to Parents magazine!

>Jack’s Birthday

>So, Jack’s birthday is right around the corner, and if I hadn’t been keeping track, I might think he was turning two instead of one. Thursday morning he woke up at about 6:30 and when I went in to get him from his crib he said, “Mama! Mama!” And he gave me a big hug. I snuggled with him on the rocking chair and I said, “Do you want some milk?” No, he didn’t, and he told me by shaking his head no. Awww, so cute. And really, who would be hungry at 6:30 am when they had just eaten at 4:45am?

This morning I am happy to announce that my little angel slept until 6am straight through the night. I was so confused when I woke up – what time is it? did I forget to set the alarm? where am I? I remembered dreams for the first time in a year. Crazy, weird dreams. And this morning Jack ate and then slid off my lap to start playing. I sat there, blissfully imagining a productive work day where my head didn’t hit the keyboard at any point in time. And then I said, “Jack, do you want to get dressed?”

He shook his head “no”.

Other questions posed to Jack today:
Do you want some milk before dinner? No.
Are you hungry? No.
Do you want some more? No.
Do you want to get down? No.

And so on.

So now that he waves, high fives (sometimes), says “Dada” and “Mama”, says “nom nom nom” when he wants to eat, and shakes his head no, we are all working on teaching the little gentleman to say, “Yes.”

And at daycare they are teaching him to blow kisses, and if he learns that, I’ll probably forgive everything else for a while.

>The Cookie Story

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We are still missing Bean, but we’ve been enjoying our Bean memories. And when I got home from Costco on Saturday it was quite the novelty to be able to set the bags down on the kitchen floor instead of needing to make sure they were all out of reach on the counter while I emptied them. And I put chocolate chips on the bottom shelf of the pantry. That felt so decadent. Almost as decadent as leaving a pancake on the counter when we were rushing out the door to soccer. After the chocolate chip incident, the brown sugar incident, the whole wheat flour incident, and the corn starch (?) incident, I learned to keep nothing but canned goods on the bottom two shelves of the food cabinet. And still I have found canned goods slobbered on and hidden behind the toilet. Let’s just say Bean was highly motivated by food, and keeping food out of his reach was quite a task. And now I bring you, upon request, the cookie story.

It was an icy, blah, no good day at Keystone and Dave and I just decided to call it quits and head home. Unfortunately we were delayed in making it home when he caught an edge on a catwalk and landed shoulder-first on the ice. One separated shoulder and a week later, and we were entertaining a good college friend, Brian, back at Casa de Meta. Brian was in town for some space alien conference or another, and his experience with dogs is mostly limited to the under 10 pound category. And I don’t think his miniature poodles (Senior Carnitas and Mr. Excitypants) could ever prepare him for the food obsession that we faced on a daily basis with our Bean.

What does Dave’s separated shoulder have to do with anything? Well, I’ll tell you. My dear sister took pity on poor Dave and sent him a care package. Dave and I were at work when it arrived and Brian had not yet left for the airport. Being the wonderful and considerate house guest that he always is, he brought in the package and put it… somewhere. I can only imagine it was somewhere like on the counter? On the dining room table? On the floor? Somewhere other than on top of our locked refrigerator.

So I arrived home from work and it was eerily quiet. For years (at least 13 of the almost 15) I was greeted at the door with lots of barking and Bean jumped up and down on his hind legs begging to be fed his dinner. We kept the food in the front hall closet at our old house (with a warning on the door that to leave it open was to provide a dog food buffet) so I would usually feed Bean before I did anything else. But on this particular day, silence. I am sure I hung up my coat, and walked into the kitchen, looked around and then peaked down the hallway. And there was Bean, walking slowly, slowly towards me. Head down, tail between his legs. He could have been the poster child for puppy eyes the way he slowly looked down and raised just his sad eyes.

Knowing this look, I started to search for the reason. I found an empty tupperware under the table, and a torn cardboard box behind the arm chair. In the box was a lovely note from my caring sister about cookies. Cookies! Gone! (Shaking fist at the heavens.) When I called Beth to thank her and to tattle on Bean she mentioned there was a box of thin mints in there too. I hadn’t even seen one single green piece of girl scout colored cookie box anywhere so I renewed my search and found an intact box of thin mints behind the couch.

Bean – couldn’t resist the cookies, and knew to hide the evidence. But that guilty look gave him away every time.

Photo Credit: Martha Stewart

>Rest In Peace Bean

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Thanks to everyone for your kind words about Bean today. We are all still pretty sad, and in my case, mildly hungover from our Irish wake last night.

Here is my eulogy if you didn’t get the email.

Almost 15 years ago, when Dave and I had been dating for four months he decided to get a dog. He needed to borrow a car from one of my roommates to get to the pound, but he didn’t want to take a bunch of girls with him for fear we’d pressure him into getting a dog that wasn’t exactly right but was sooooo cuuuuuute. We promised Dave we’d keep our opinions to ourselves so he’d let us come with him. There were two tiny puppies together in a cage, but Bean was much cuter and quieter than the other dog. And the other dog went right back inside while Bean just stared at us, silently. I remember that Dave was getting out his wallet, (to pay what? sixteen dollars, maybe?) and the animal control guy picked Bean up by the scruff of his neck and tossed him roughly into my arms. I had never held a dog before.

Bean was our first baby, and he taught us a little bit about what it would be like to be parents. In the last few months he taught us a about caring for someone at the end of their life. In the middle he was that crazy, somewhat neurotic roommate who got in trouble for things you wouldn’t dream of doing, but who was always there for you, and who always had your back.

We had a lot of good times, and we already miss him.

Rest in Peace, Bean
(February 1994 – October 15, 2008)

>Meltdowns, Financial and Otherwise

>As I mentioned yesterday, Jack recently started throwing tantrums (but only when he doesn’t get what he wants). There was some screaming, arching of the back, legs kicking and what-have-you. Luke was never one for a rolling around on the floor kicking and screaming type tantrum so I was sort of interested to see one unfold. And by interested, I mean I planned to put Jack down, walk away, and appear to be ignore him. That backfired, of course, because as soon as I put him down, he took off and tried to get right back to what he was doing in the first place. (Banging on the keyboard and randomly blaring songs on itunes. First the Beatles, and then Liz Phair.)

All this is to say, I am now a veteran of all sorts of meltdowns. I am now acquainted with a Jack-style meltdown, I have dealt with Luke’s special brand, of course my own personal meltdowns, and Dave’s occasional loss of composure.

But the real problem for me, for the past several days is the complete economic meltdown. I’ve taken it quite personally. Flat on my back, wondering if it’s time to wean so I can get me some of those sweet, sweet muscle relaxers. (“Try four.”) Yes, ye old back pain has returned and I am blaming it on the Dow’s worst drop in it’s 112 years.

Short story long, when I moved to Boulder I started to buy into the idea that the Western medical “take some antibiotics” method isn’t always the answer . So I started seeing a doctor that was known to be very into alternative medicine, and when I went there for back pain she asked me if I had money problems. “Well, my husband is in grad school, and I am the breadwinner and my company is going through layoffs. so I am a little worried, why do you ask?” According to her, back pain is linked to worries about money. Hmm, OK, great. She had some interesting ideas, but I stopped seeing her when I realized, sometimes you just have to have antibiotics. But fortunately for me, she recommended a good chiropractor first.

Just the other day I ran across my back pillow (from the lumbar yard) and I was thinking it had been so long since I had even a twinge of back pain. And merely days later as the economy was falling to ruins and 401k statements were arriving in the mailbox, I could suddenly not stand up straight. The pain, my God the pain! Damn you greedy-wall-street-fat-cats with your risky investment-causing-econonmy-collapsing-anniversary-ruining-back-pain!

So let’s just all hope that the 900 point gain today is a sign of good things to come and that as the Dow climbs, the pain lessons. Or at least that I can stop worrying about it.

>Sunday Miscellaneous

>* Jack has been flirting with a full on wave goodbye for a while now, but Saturday night he waved goodbye over and over to that cute baby in the mirror. And it almost sounded like he said good-bye too
* Luke loves school. Loves it. His big complaint now is that his days go by to quickly. He and I danced at the Fall Festival and it was really fun.
* Luke – smiled without an upper lip in his school picture and also still does not like swimming lessons
* Jack- likes to hide behind the curtains until I say, “Where’s my baby?!” And then he crawls out laughing
* Luke – doing well with our new manners game
* Jack – now throwing minor tantrums (only when he doesn’t get what he wants)