A good feeling

I haven't had any investors calling about my business plan.  And, to be honest, I see why.  How long will my child like those magnets?  How would I keep this business going long term?  I began thinking about scrapping the whole project and starting up something a little different.

Dimes for Drool.

I could weigh my pillow before I go to bed, weigh it in the morning, find the difference and get paid a dime for every-- well, I figure I'll always drool in my sleep.  I could even get Paul to volunteer his pillow.

Then I realized how gross this is and decided to put some of my entrepreneurial aspirations on hold for a bit.  My daughter needs the extra time and attention anyway as tooth number four makes it's debut.  She's been pretty uncomfortable.

Through her discomfort she still manages to manifest more of her personality everyday.  Tonight, after I put her in her jammies, she picked up her snugly bear and walked into my bedroom to find her daddy.  She marched up to Paul, handed him bear, and reached up to him.  Soon, both emerged, Andrea on his hip, and Paul wrapped around her little finger.  She knows what she wants and is pretty good at communicating.

As I watched my husband read her a bedtime story and give her some bedtime milk, I was reminded how precious this time is.

Being a stay-at-home mom is the hardest thing I've ever done but the best too.  I love witnessing all of Andrea's highs and even lows.  Just this week I observed her giggle in the bathtub, smear bananas in her hair, point at a balloon (a.k.a baa), stir plastic lettuce in a bowl, "read" a book to herself, softly pat my head, poke her finger up her nose, chase after me, throw a cheerio fit, hit her face on a footstool and come running to mommy to wipe her tears, resist a diaper change, crawl on my lap for a snuggle, and give me hugs around my neck with kisses on my cheek.  I'm so grateful that she's mine, and I love her so much.

I know I'm exactly where I'm suppose to be.  That's a good feeling.

My business

I've never considered myself much of a business woman.  In fact, I'm probably an anti-business woman.  I'm so uncomfortable with selling product that I instead insult the product I'm trying push.  No, I've never actually worked a sales job, but I find my reaction to giving away food I've cooked quite illuminating.

Example:  Paul comes home from school and I greet him at the door wearing my apron, looking oh-so-domestic, and holding a silver platter of freshly baked cupcakes.  I say, "Welcome home darling husband! (I call him that all the time. . .)  Have a cupcake.  I made it so it's probably nasty.  Yeah, the batter was a little runny so I added some oat bran, and then I forgot the pinch of salt in the frosting, so I just sprinkled it on top-- which made it totally gross.  I had to scrape off the tainted part which is why these look so ugly. Enjoy!"  And he'll eat seven because that's what he does.

I can't even sell my own cooking, and that's only the beginning of my pitchman problems.  Despite my long list of business flaws, an idea came to me today that I could not sweep under the rug.

I was making soup for lunch.  Bean and pasta soup, if you must know.  I burnt the onions a little, added too much basil, and the noodles turned into cement on the bottom of the pan because I didn't stir often enough.  (Do you see?  Do you see what I'm talking about?  AHH!)  Whilst I cooked, my little child toddled and crawled below.  Once she became sufficiently bored with all there was to see in my vicinity, she ventured over to the garbage can and had to be relocated to the living room before she started plucking out the moldy contents.

On my way back to the kitchen I stopped in front of the fridge and stared down at the multitude of magnets scattered about the floor.  "If I had a dime for every time I picked these up in a day. . ." I mumbled under my breath.

And that was it.  My new business.  It was like lightning struck and brilliance was born.  I'm going to call it, "Dimes for Magnets."

Here's the master plan: I will count every time I pick up those magnets and get paid one dime per pick up.  Simple, clean, no coworker drama, perfect.  As my business grows I will purchase a second fridge and another set of magnets.  Perhaps I'll hire another little toddler (following child labor laws, of course!) to help Andrea with her work.  I can create a website dedicated to "Dimes for Magnets."

I'll find a ribbon color that's not being used and donate half of my proceeds to the Paying Off the Master's Program (POMP) Fund.

On the website there will be a link to live footage of my kitchen floor so you can be a part of the action.  I will have sponsors who will get a custom magnet, placed loving on my fridge(s), which will not only advertise their business to my live audience, but for every time their logo hits the floor I will donate $. 05 to POMP.  I got two words for you: tax deduction.

Once my company is worth a substantial amount I will go public and sell my shares for an incredibly lucrative amount.  I will then retire due to some astonishingly mysterious back problems.

Now I just need an initial investor to with a lot of dimes.  Any takers?

A major step

My little Andrea started walking this week.  For the last month or so she's been gearing up for it.  I could see it in her toes and the way she'd stand alone digging her heals firmly into the floor.  Occasionally, she would take one unassisted step if she was very close to another object she could hold on to.  Then on Sunday she just took off.  Standing at the fridge she decided she wanted be at the rocking chair so she took a step.  Then another and another and another.

Well, I lost it.

"PAUL!  PAUL!!!!!!!!! COME QUICK SHE'S WALKING AND IT SO CUTE AND YOU'VE GOT TO SEE IT SHE'S SO STEADY AND AWWWWWW SHE LOOKS SO PROUD OF HERSELF AND SHE'S DROOLING QUICK COME SEEEEEEE!!"

He ran into the room and she walked to him, panting and smiling.  We clapped and cheered.  I retrieved the camera and attempted to video the milestone.  But all of our exuberant attention and the excitement of seeing the camera proved too much for her and she dropped back to her hands and knees.

Everyday we are treated to more and more little steps, and with each step I feel as though I'm losing my baby and gaining a little girl.

Her first little hairdo.

But Andrea is not just becoming  any girl.  She is the ultimate girly girl.  This child puts everything on her wrists.  Hair bands, magic bullet rings, Christmas tree ornaments, you name it.  If it will fit over her hand she will wear it as a bracelet.  When I began to notice this, I was confused.  I don't wear bracelets-- where did she learn this?  Paul pointed out that my mom wears bracelets to church and if Andrea sits with her she gets to play with them.

Last week when I was changing the sheets in Andrea's crib I found four hair bands that she'd smuggled in at nap times.

Notice the hair band on her arm.

Hearing her little words is another reminder how quickly she's growing up.  Some of her favorite phrases are: good dog, hi daddy, hi chickens, what dat?, yeah, bottle, banana, tree, and mum.  She understands even more than she can say.  Today as I loaded the dishwasher I told her we had to add soap and she pointed to the soap dispenser on the dishwasher door.  I was so impressed; I didn't think she paid that much attention.  I went ahead and added the detergent and watched my tiny helper try to close the door.

Perhaps she's ready for some chores. ;)

It's too late to be writing but. . .

I’m a mess.

I’ve been thinking about Illinois a lot lately-- mostly late at night when I should be sleeping.  In those late hours I muse over the possibility of visiting this summer.  I worry about the possibility of not.  I imagine the nightmare of Andrea on a plane and the three hour car ride from the airport.  When I close my eyes I’m transported to the winding freeways of St. Louis transitioning into the uncrowded country highways of Williamson County.  I breathe in and my lungs fill with the humid air and the hair on my arms reach for the midnight mists.  I can hear the insects, so many insects, clicking and chirping in the moist grass and little yellow fireflies twinkle like fallen stars.

I miss my family.  I miss my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandmothers and can’t wait to see their faces.  I want to play games, catch up, and eat far more than I should because that’s what we do when we get together.  I want to throw horseshoes and play softball and eat something off a grill.  Grilled food tastes better in Illinois.  I want to hear old family tales that I’ve heard a thousand times before, and I want to laugh because they are still funny.  I want to take pictures until my finger’s sore so I don’t forget anything.

Then I remember how much I’ve changed in the last four years—how my life has changed and I’m just scared. . .  scared that the magic is gone.

I still haven’t put away Christmas.  My stockings are still hung by the chimney looking pitiful and my tree is sitting in the corner sucking the sunshine out of the room like a black hole.  I plugged in the lights today for the first time since New Years because I knew Andrea would like it.  There was no sparkle though.  No cheery twinkle.  It’s strange that those decorations fill with life for a season.

When the season’s over, the magic just dies.  What if I go back, so eager to show my husband the magical place I called home long after I moved away only to be disenchanted and disappointed?

I’m a mess.

Something funny

My sister complained to me yesterday that nothing entertaining was happening on the blog-o-sphere.  I, in turn, promised that I'd post something entertaining.  However, nothing particularly exciting is happening in my life.  So I've decided to post some popular internet trends that are often deemed funny.

Random cat pictures with poor grammar.

 Demotivational poster for something everyday.

Demotivational poster making fun of Twilight.

A possibly offensive political comic.

Awkward family photos and/or pictures of ugly Christmas sweaters.

Admiral Ackbar.

 And a suuuuuuper uncomfortable screenshot.

Sorry, Janell!  It's all I got right now.

End of year blues

Last Tuesday Andrea and I said our goodbyes to nursing.  Yes, I did cry.  That night my sister-in-law and darling nephew came to stay with us for a few days, and I cried some more.  I felt so hollow-- dedicating over a year and my body to the survival and comfort of my child and in one moment it was all over.  The next day I ran some errands and when I didn't have to hurry home to feed Andrea I realized I had a new freedom.  I waved at the sorrow from the day before and looked forward to my new life with a toddler.

The next few days were bliss.  Andrea and her cousin played together beautifully.  My sister-in-law and I could talk for a couple of hours without being interrupted because those two kept each other entertained.  Christmas Eve my in-laws left and Andrea began to change.  Without the distractions of another toddler she became suuuuuuuper clingy, demanding constant cuddles and attention.  I'm struggling again.  This completely snuggle-resistant child now wants to be wrapped up in my arms all day-- which is cute, but also exhausting.  It leaves me wondering if she's missing and craving that special time together we spent nursing.

Monday night Paul and I got hit with the flu.  We spent the entire night taking turns in the bathroom emptying our stomachs.  Twenty-four hours later we were both physically better, but my spirit still felt so heavy.

Perhaps it's my hormones adjusting or cabin fever. . . whatever it is, I am feeling so blue, inadequate, and small.

But I'm planning on feeling better today.  I just have to. . . because I want to.

Winter 'One'derland

December 13th was my little Andrea's first birthday.  I thought I would spend the whole day crying saying, "Where did my baby go?"  But instead I was just filled with joy and this intense gratitude to be the mommy of this sweet little girl.

I made her pancakes for breakfast.  Paul was wishing everyday was her birthday because I don't make warm breakfasts very often.  Last year on his birthday I promised something hot and savory first thing in the morning, and I think he left for school hungry as I nursed, bathed, rocked, and soothed our two month old.

Anyway. . . Andrea woke up on just the right side of the bed on Tuesday and was such a happy girl all day.  She had two beautifully long naps and by the evening she was ready to try opening presents at my parents house.

My parents have some mistletoe and we took turns giving her kisses.  She thought it was so silly.

Andrea seems so grown up now.  While she not walking yet, she stands by herself quite often and will take an unassisted step once and a while.  We stood her beside her presents and she was so confused.  She looked up at us like, "What do you want to me to do with all of this?"  She pointed to Paul and he sat beside her to show her how this strange present opening tradition works.

She loved getting toys.  My grandmother gave her a little snugly giraffe, and she gave it lots of love.  I gave her a book which she also seemed interested in reading.

The clothes she didn't seem interested in at all.  She needed them though because she'd recently grown out of her 3-6 month outfits.

My mother bought her this elephant popper that blows balls out of it's trunk.  She went crazy for this thing, and she enjoys it even more now that she discovered she can turn it on all by herself.

Sunday was her big party and the theme I chose was Winter 'One'derland.  All of those snowflakes we cut out . .

Got hung from the ceiling creating a curtain of snow.

Every snowflake was different and it looked beautiful.  I've decided to leave them up all winter.

 View from the kitchen.

 

I set a winter display on the kitchen table where guests could look through her baby book and review her progress. 

We covered the counter in a while tablecloth and sat out all of the cupcakes

We had three burned out light bulbs in the kitchen.  It's actually been that way for a while but I finally changed them.  The kitchen seemed so bright I thought about removing the new light bulbs.  I'm use to it now and like seeing my food.  But on the day of Andrea's party the kitchen was glowing.

I had two warm scalding drinks to choose from.  White hot chocolate and organic mulled cider.

We had a contest to see who could most accurately guess Andrea's one year weight.  My sister, Janell, guessed it exactly.  17 pounds 8 ounces.

This is the cake I made for Andrea to smash.

She didn't seem too impressed with it.  I think the size was a tad overwhelming.  She even tried to push it off her tray.

We cut her a slice and chopped it into pieces.  In this less intimidating form she went to town.  So many people were watching and her shy nature got the better of her.  She whined and cried a little and seemed relieved when I got her out of her chair.

The adults had 'snowman nose' cupcakes.  A.k.a. carrot cake.  The cupcakes were topped with sad melting snowmen.  Well, most of them are sad.  There is one happy snowman and one cyclops.  Can you find them?

I decided to forgo traditional cream cheese frosting and try a Swiss meringue buttercream.  I've seen it hailed on Food Network shows and worshiped on baking blogs.

It was horrible.  This is the real reason for the sad snowmen.  The buttercream tasted like straight butter.  Paul and I tripled the amount of sugar and it still tasted like a night at the movie theater.  Everyone ate them and said the were good, but I threw half of mine away.  Bless my family's little hearts.  The sacrifices they make in behalf of my self-esteem.

After treats, we gathered in the living room to open presents.

Andrea had such a good time playing with the bows, reading the cards, ripping paper, and cuddling some of her new toys.

After the crowed dispersed I cuddled my little one year old and put her to bed. Paul and I decompressed with a cheese quesadilla, homemade pice de gallo, and Next Iron Chef.  It was a perfect day.