Jessica's Blog

Three of the five of my immediate family have had pink eye since we returned from Disneyland last weekend. That, and I am a mom of younger kids.. so I wash my hands a lot.

A. LOT.

I wash before I leave the house, I wash when I drop a kid at nursery school or preschool.  I wash before I eat.  I wash when I go to the bathroom.  I wash If I handle a diaper situation.  I wash if I sneeze or blow my nose.

But since pink eye invaded our house.  I'm washing just when it crosses my mind to.  I'm ordering the kids to wash when I see them picking their noses, wiping their eyes, sneezing, coughing, eating....computer time.... I'm using actualy not-earth friendly disinfectant wipes because we had them and wiping eating areas, surfaces, and keyboards.  I've done the laundry.

Hubby came down with Pink Eye on Friday.

Honey Girl has a gross way of letting me knowing she isn't feeling well.  You'll love it.  When Honey Girls' throat hurts, I know this because... she sticks her fingers (as many as she can manage) into her mouth and slobbers all over them, then touches stuff..... or, she'll lick stuff.  Stuff.... like.... edges of counters, doorknobs.  It's like she's tring to touch the back of her throat where th hurt is, causes a mini-gag..slobbers like a teething babe and smears.  I know!  It is as if nature has her pegged to be the one to infect the tribe.  She seems to understand that this is a thoroughly undesirable behavior.... to say it politely... but it's her compulsion when she's feeling bad.  Weird, huh?  Not to mention somewhat aggravating.

Honey Girl came down with pink eye today.  The ped knew this would happen and told me to just get the refill of Little Lady's (our ground zero) meds.

Yeah, my hands are starting to look like a washer-woman's back before washers.

Let's hope at least such fastidiousness will payoff.  I don't like pink eye.  To put it lightly.  I had it a lot when I first started high school.  A couple times since I've ben married and my eyes always freak out so badly with the medication(I'm one of those "sensitive eye" folks who can't wear most make up), I end up going on another treatment prescribed by the doc after the anti-biotic to sooth my eyes back to normal.  soo......

C'mon Big Boy... it's you and me against the germs.... let's stand strong... let's keep clear of eye boogies and ick.

A CLOSED MIND IS A WONDERFUL THING TO LOSE.

These have caught my eye:

"If your gonna ride my ass, you may as well be pulling my hair"

"EMT: 911 makes me come"  ummmmm....ew

"Turn signals!  Not just for out of staters anymore."

"One nation, Under Bush, divided"

"Somewhere in Texas, a village is missing its idiot"

my fave I want as a t-shirt:

COEXIST

what is too long for a bumper sticker?  A generation to solve poverty but only 8 years to dissolve government and the middle class.

This is what comes from spending hours a day driving in concentric circles with complete morons. 

San Joseans.... learn to merge!!!!  Los Angeleans can do it... so.can.you.

Hang up and drive.  Please dont' text and drive.. thought I'm guilty of long signal texting.  I mean, c'mon I can feel myself getting older at these lights.

Ladies.. when someone puts on their turn signal, it is NOT a sign to gun your engine and pull into their blind spot just so they won't get in front of you.

Camrys, corrollas, priuses, Siennas... basically if you drive a toyota... please enter a freeway at the rate of traffic.  I swear to my grandpa the next time I am behind you getting onto 280 or 17 at rush hour and you are puttering along at 40... I just may honk at you, er, no.. that might WAKE YOU UP.  I will definitely salute you with my best out of sight of the kids.  Oh, and also... blind spots are not where you want to hang.

Any american made "muscle car" that is truly a serious piece  of crap (pontiacs, MUSTANGS, camaros, Neons, Magnums).  I get that the vibration your car may put off as you speed along may well give you some jollies you may not otherwise get... but... riding up my ass, then swerving around me and cutting me off is just... well.. juvenile and impudent.  Much as I imagine you must be.

American made minivans.  You make "us" minivan drivers look bad.  You are the reason why people assume I am a road boulder even if I'm booking at 70 in lane 2.

Blah blah blah SUVs.... blah blah blah... need I say more?

Contractor trucks.  Before 9am you gun it, run it, swerve it... but during the day you loiter, you lollygag... you. are. slowwwwww... but the second five o'clock rolls around, you're back to gunning it, running it, riding it.  hmmm.  What's that about?

SO to get through the *ugh* that is driving a lot... I look at bumper stickers and plate covers.

I really don't care whose purebread whatever is smarter than so and sos honor student.

I don't care that your W.T. or ghetto kid could beat up my honor student.

Bless you for supporting our troops, but blech!

I could give less than a crap if your kid is an honor student.

Who doesn't have a baby in their car these days?!?!

Yeah, who doesn't spoil their grandkids....or rather... who doesn't *think* they spoil their grandkids.

well... the stickers and plates do pass the time.

I got on facebook and my days are now riddled with gasps of who is getting in touch with me from my checkered past and where they are now.

I love it.

My, how we've all grown up.  Most who want to be friends have no idea I'm married or have kids.  It makes me laugh to think of what my life looks like on paper.  I'm no longer the opera girl, the stoner, the one that got away, the dorm-mate, the party hook-up.  Life is so great, isn't it?

give it a try.

I can't get enough of it.  Late last night I caught last week's episode of the most uncomfortable dinner party ever.  I was applauding the writing, howling at the awkward moments.

Very funny.  SO very funny.

Yes, it has been way too long since I wrote about my beloved hobby.

Why, night you say?

I just had to wait for the bruises to heal.

The "pole kisses".  These would be the nice words used to describe the bruising that occurs while in the learning process of new tricks, twists, twirls and flips.  Before you learn to do them with finesse, panache, or sultry sexiness... you go a little hard and fast or slow with your tongue hanging out and some grunting, ooofing, or full on laughing.

There were the bumps along the outsides of my ankles... from twirling down the pole and having a bit of drag on the wood floor before stopping, to ensure I was "facing" ( I use quotes, because it wasn't my face that was meant to be facing) the correct direction to move to the next "step".

At one point in the final class I got the tip of the heel of my stiletto caught in my undies before a crawl.  Classmates thought it was really cute and hot, I just dubbed it my own personal take on a modern coppertone add.

I am finding my great challenge in working the pole is the making-it-look-like-it-feels-oh-so-good part.  There were points when I'd be sliding down that thing thinking "what the hell, I swear I am stuck on here" as the skin of my thighs seemed to adhere to the steel.  In talking to friends and teachers about it after the fact... um, nope.. that's just how it goes.  Inner thighs nearly rolling in on themselves.  Thank goodness the music is thumping Prince's "Darling Nikki" so the sound of screeeeeeeeee! can't be heard.  Maybe the leg tricks while up there are simply a way of distracting from the pulling sensation.

For a bit there I had bruises on the insides of my ankles from the quick hooking of the pole when flipping upside down.  Yeah, as I learned that, it was feeling like I had to throw my head back, kick like hell and then grab hold for dear life.  But then I got it down and lost the *clang* of my shoes hitting the pole as I hoisted up and around and slid slooowwwwlllly down again.

I am merely such a beginner in all of this.  So I joke with myself "patience, grasshopper".  Rome wasn't built in a day, and when all is said and done... so little of the dancing has anything to do with the tricks and twirls.  I mean, c'mon.. when in use... all a lady really needs to do is stand there in stilettos and an "outfit" to get some seriously undivided attention from her partner.  But I soooo want to learn them alllllll.  I don't know why.  It's just fun as can be an hot as hell.

I really love the workout that is pole work.  Bruises and all.  Much like pilates with a trainer.. I leave feeling taller, longer and stronger... and it's not just the stilettos.  Also, the other students in the class make me laugh in all the right ways and with such support and fun.  My competitive nature stills resides in me as I notice I'm the only student who goes for the flip every time of the run through.

So now that the bruises have healed, and I get the urge to buy new shoes... it's time to sign in to the next class.  That, and the owner of the studio has been super sweet and has happily okayed Liz the use of the pilates studio much later than usual to accommodate my work schedule to keep me in tip top climbing condition.

huzzah!

Today at work I decided to change things up a bit.  Usually on my break I go and pump in the library.  I read an essay or two from my Brain, Child mag and snack as the pump does its job and then I go outside to warm my bones in the sunshine for a brisk walk before settling back behind the desk.

But today I felt like seeing my baby, so I tossed the pump into the Odyssey and drove to Katy's house. 

Little Lady, Teacher Katy and the other babes were in the back garden when I arrived.  They were goofing about on a big quilt in the partial shade of an oak tree playing with musical toys.  All in sun hats looking too cute. 

Little Lady looked up as I called to her and gasped, squealed, gafawed, and made her way onto the grass in a hell bend crawl.

Big hugs.
Lots of cuddles and kisses.
She likes to pat me on my back when she hugs me.
She likes to smoosh her face into my cheek really hard and hummmmmmmm to say hello.
Mom-babe conversation:  "Oh, I missed you!  Oh, it's so good to see you.Yes! That is Momma's necklace.  Are you having a good day?"

To all of that chatter, Little Lady hoots and hugs and ahhhhHHhhhhhs.  She also  points  around the yard at the flowers, trees, babes, and plants telling me, "Ah-da da da da eeeee ah daawa da da.... bir!" "awbu dawbu da da da, Momma!"

Then I ask her if she would want the "momma's milk" and I do the sign language for "milk".  She does a full body flop in my arms to assume the nursing position near yelling, "Muh-muh!" Her version of "more".  I laugh and kiss her head as I settle onto the quilt in the warm sun to nurse.

Katy and I have a nice chat about the day and what it is to care for three babies.. and how it's a whole other world than four babies.  I am amazed by this woman every day.  Her daughter was asleep in the wagon, she was playing with another baby while singing to my baby.  All babies happy and contented, trusting that if they need something, she'll take care of it. 

Little Lady finishes her repass and we talk some more.  She climbs on me, slobbers all over my jacket, gives me kisses and cuddles.  Burps a bit, but thankfully keeps it in.  I help her back to the house as it's time to go inside.  I get her settled into a new activity and let her know I need to go bye-bye again, but I'll be back in a little over an hour with Big Sister.  She looks at me in a very understanding way.. as only near 11 month olds will.  I give her kisses and wave bye bye.  She smiles and waves "buh-buh" back at me.

It was an awesome lunch date.

I just forgot to eat anything... ech well... I'm learning.