I mean

Will we see him again?

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Update on the farmhouse table. The Facebook guy who was building us a farmhouse table delivered it to us Sunday afternoon, and it’s not exactly right. We got it in the house, put it in place in the dining room, looked at it, looked at each other, and reached for the tape measure.

Dude got some of the dimensions mixed up, I think. It was supposed to be six feet long (it is, close enough), 32 inches high (it’s closer to 34, which is really not gonna work, but is something we could fix ourselves), and 42 inches wide. It is NOT 42 inches wide. It is only 32 inches wide, which is not going to work and is not something we can fix ourselves.

John raced back outside to catch the guy before he left. From John’s account, the guy was cool about it and said he’d make us a new one this week and come to swap them out. I texted him right after that, nicely, with the exact dimensions again.

He didn’t respond. We spent the rest of yesterday wondering if we’ll ever see him again or if we’re stuck with a table 10 inches narrower than we wanted. This is what we get for buying something sight-unseen, or at least for not checking the dimensions before handing over the money.

He still hadn’t responded as of this morning, so I pasted the same message in our Facebook chat, and (WHEW) he responded with an apology about the mix-up, saying he’s working on the new table right now, and he’ll text me when it’s done in a few days.

I feel better about that, I guess, but I’m not completely confident round two will be right. Stay tuned for an update.

I did check Facebook, and YES, I can confirm that I gave him the right numbers to start with. Good to have it writing somewhere, even if it is Facebook.

Cuteness overload

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Jack is the sweetest cuddliest toddler ever.  Evidence:

  • He kisses everything.  Me, my toes, my hands, his toes, his toys, birds he hears…  This morning, we were walking back from watching trucks, and he heard a bird.  “Peep!”  He swiveled his head around in all directions, trying to see it, and then said, “MAH!”
  • When we read The Poky Little Puppy, after we count the four puppies and they find out one is missing, he says, “Oh no puppy!”  Every time.
  • Grammy got him an Elmo doll, and he LOVES it. He’s had it for three days now, and he hugs it, kisses it, and keeps it in sight while he’s eating.  The only time he doesn’t look for Elmo is when the TV is on.
  • If I’m on the floor, he’s likely to be on top of me.  Across my stomach, behind my back, sprawled across my legs, or using my legs as a slide.  I’m his jungle gym, but I always get hugs out of it.

Best baby in the world.

Ways in which Jack is adorable

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Here is a smattering of ways in which Jack is adorable:

  • He “counts”, using the tone I use when I count for him.  He counts when he points at things, stacks things, lines things up, but he only ever says one syllable over and over: “doo”.  I like to think he’s speaking French.  “Deux, deux, deux…”
  • When I point out flowers on our walks, he leans toward them and “mah” gives them a kiss.
  • He thinks it’s HILARIOUS when I sneeze.  Laughs like a loon and then makes his again sign (like a one-handed clap) and says “dat, dat”.  I’ve tried explaining to him that I can’t sneeze on command.  Fake sneezes aren’t quite as good.
  • Since we started reading The Little Engine That Could and The Little Red Caboose, he looks for trains everywhere we go.  Any vehicle attached to a trailer is a choo-choo.  Any trailer without an attached vehicle is a choo-choo, unless it’s a box trailer, and then it’s a guck.
  • We have a Buddha statue in our yard, left by the previous owner, and when we walk by it, Jack says “baa”.  At it.  To it?
  • When he sees a car/truck/van with a ladder on it, he makes climbing-a-ladder motions with his hands.

Busy lazy life

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I feel like I had a crazy busy day today, like I rushed from thing to thing, but that is a completely ridiculous feeling to have, especially about today.  I’m not knocking the stay at home mom life in any way.  But really – today’s the day that felt crazy?  See for yourself.

7am-ish to about 9: Jack woke up.  John changed him, I fed him, we played a bit, and John took Jack so I could shower and eat breakfast.

9:10ish: I fed Jack off and on until he fell asleep.

9:45 to 11:15am: Jack napped in my lap.  I napped a bit, too.

11:15 to noon: I played with Jack, changed him, got some cute videos while I gathered up a blanket and some toys.

Noon to 1pm-ish: Jack and I sat outside on a blanket in the shade.  I fed him, he played, two of the neighbors came over to chat.

1pm-ish to 2pm-ish: I made lunch for me and John (scrambled eggs and toast), tried to feed Jack a tiny bite of scrambled eggs (he gagged), ate them myself, and fed him some baby food he actually likes.

2:30pm-ish to 4:30: We went for a long walk with Helen and Nora.  Jack napped from about 3 to 3:45.

4:30 to 4:50: Fastest grocery trip ever.

5pm-ish to 6:30pm:  I fed and changed Jack, we made and ate dinner, fed Jack some baby food, and played a little.

6:30pm to 7pm: Bathtime!

7pm to 7:35pm: Bedtime!

Highlights: I napped, played, went for a walk, and ate.  No appointments, no major errands, no timelines or deadlines, no meetings, and yet it didn’t feel as relaxing as it looks on paper.  I need a do-over.  That’s a relaxing day, damn it.

All us new moms look alike

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You’re out with a stroller?  You must be that one person I don’t really know who just had a baby!  When I’m out for a walk with Jack and I meet someone else out and about in whatever neighborhood I’m in, there’s a 75% chance they’re going to ask me if I’m so-and-so from down the street who just had a baby.  Not ONCE have I been their so-and-so from down the street who just had a baby.  I’ve had that conversation with a LOT of people in at least three different neighborhoods.

Today’s version:

I’m walking down the sidewalk minding my own business.

“He might bark, but I promise he’s friendly.”

Um, what?  Oh, that poodle who looks like he has a mohawk is in the front yard.  “Thanks!”

The man heads to the dog, and I stop at the end of his sidewalk and ask if I can say hello to the dog.  Because dogs.  He says of course, and I start petting the very friendly, very nice dog.

“Is your husband Matt?”

Um, what?  “No….”

“Because his wife walks around here a lot and they have a two-month-old.”

“No, I’m Susannah, my husband is John, and he,” pointing at the stroller, “is nearly 6 months old.”

What I don’t get is how he only remembers the husband’s name when it seems it’s the wife he’s met on her walks, but whatever.  His name is Tom, the dog’s name is Bogey (as in Humphrey), they’re both nice, and if I don’t write his name down, I’m not going to remember.  Yesterday, I ran into a woman I’d met on a walk months ago and messed up her name.  I remembered her kids’ names, but I guessed Grace for her.  Nope.  She’s Nancy.  But she didn’t remember mine, so we’re even.

Goodbye 2018

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I don’t usually do end-of-year wrap-up posts*, but I’ve never had a year like this last one, either.  I mean, we got pregnant, bought a house, and had a baby, all conveniently within the confines of one calendar year.  So that was weird.

How’s 2019 gonna top that?

*Does one sentence count as a wrap-up post?

Out of left field

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You know Nielsen?  The company that’s been doing TV ratings since the invention of TV?  They sent us money.  In the mail.  I opened the envelope out of curiosity.  I would normally have just thrown it away, but we don’t even have cable – why on earth would Nielsen be contacting us?  Of course, it turns out they aren’t.  It’s addressed to “Providence Area Household”, which is technically us, but I feel like they don’t care about MY opinion.  And unexpectedly, two crisp dollar bills were looking at me from inside that envelope.  It’s an advance for the survey they’d like us to take.  Return the survey and they’ll send us an additional $5 in cash!  !!  !!!   There’s something weird about that.  Who mails cash?

Oooh, maybe I should fill out the survey and get the $5 just to have cash.  I hate going to the ATM.  So much so that I’m not sure I’ve been to one since we moved to Providence.  I don’t know where the nearest one is.  I don’t have anything against carrying cash (except that it makes my wallet bulky), but getting it is a pain.  Solution: put an ATM in my backyard.  Then I’ll have cash, and I won’t need Nielsen and their dollar bills.

Welcome to the 20th century

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Congratulations are in order!  We are the proud owners of a microwave for the first time in nearly two years.  Nearly three, if you’d like to be pedantic about it.  The last time we had a microwave at our disposal was in the Annapolis apartment.  The Oregon house didn’t come with one, and after a few months without it, it became a matter of principle to get by without buying one.  But now, a year and nine months later, we have abandoned principle.  We have a microwave and the first thing we did with it was reheat tea.  Anticlimactic.  The second thing we did with it was soften butter because I had a lot of baking to do and I forgot to leave the butter out, and softening butter in a saucepan is really more like melting butter which is not the same thing!

I don’t think we’ve used it for anything else.  It’s been a week.

We’re not used to having it.

Somewhat less stressed, but still furniture-less

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UPDATE: During our first phone call with PODS this morning (after an hour on hold), we found out that the company didn’t know where our container was.  They were going to find out and get back to us in an hour.  Two hours later, after no update, I called back.  After nearly another hour, I got the person who could actually tell us what was going.  While I was on the phone, NOT ON HOLD, she contacted someone in Logistics who called the truck driver and asked when they were arriving.  The truck with our container on it will arrive at the storage facility tomorrow.  Since they don’t know what time yet, they can’t schedule the delivery for tomorrow, and since we’re going out of town for the weekend, we can’t get our stuff until we get back.  BUT.  The delivery has been scheduled for Tuesday.

So the mystery of our missing stuff has been resolved, although not entirely because I was so relieved to get some answers that I didn’t ask all of the questions.  Why is it late in the first place?  Where is it right now?  Why are ALL OF YOUR SYSTEMS CENTRALLY MANAGED WHEN YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A NATIONAL COMPANY?  I wouldn’t have asked the last question since the woman I spoke to is in customer service and not responsible for that part, but still.  I would like to know.

How is this STILL a problem for me?!?

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I just don’t get it.  We have lived in Oregon, on the west coast, in the Pacific time zone, for ten months now, and I STILL get thrown by the time zone difference with the east coast.  STILL.  Like, it just happened, just now, not 30 seconds ago.

I’m sitting at my work laptop, which I deliberately keep on eastern time because it’s helpful during the work day.  I don’t usually write from here, but it was on, and I’m lazy.  I’m also TIRED, which is why, when I glanced at the clock on the corner and it said 11:55pm, I thought to myself, No wonder I’m tired.  It’s MIDNIGHT.  What am I still doing up?  Yeah, NO.  It’s 9pm.  It’s not that late.  I have plenty of reasons to be tired – I’ve been up since 5:45, I haven’t been getting enough sleep lately, and I think I’m getting sick again – but it being midnight is not one of them.  BECAUSE IT’S NOT MIDNIGHT.