Tag Archive 'Dr. Mom'

Jan 03 2014

Gonna have a bad time.

Published by under Parenting,The Boy,The Fam,The Man,Travel

We tried to go to Tennessee to visit Dr. Mom and Moll the day after Christmas. Well, no. That makes it sound like we didn’t make it. We made it to Tennessee just fine. We chose to do the drive in one go, so we didn’t get there until about 12:30 AM, Central time (we are in Eastern). The Boy was so excited. He was amped up, running around, freaking out, just being happy. I knew it was because he’d woken up after sleeping for five hours, and that it was, shall we say, false enthusiasm. Of course, he didn’t want to go back to sleep and he didn’t sleep very well after being interrupted like that, but we expected it. The unexpected horror show started bright and early the next morning.

Since this was a Christmas trip, all of us were there. That means me, The Man, The Boy, Lucky, Galleta, and of course Dr. Mom and Moll. All of the dogs, seven in total, were also there. And I think the combination of lots of people and lots of dogs snapped The Boy and broke him. He did NOT want to leave our bedroom. If we took him out into the main part of the house, he was freaking out. We tried to take him outdoors, once, since it was 50 degrees. He freaked out. If we were in our bedroom, he would happily play with dust or his cars, and he would be happy. If we went out of the room, he freaked out.

Also, he would not sleep on his own. He has always been a great sleeper. If you lay him down, he will usually just be quiet and go to sleep quickly. Not so much in Tennessee. He would not sleep in his travel crib. If you put him in there when he was awake, he would scream hysterically. For every nap and every night, we had to lay him in bed with one of us and snuggle with him until he fell deeply asleep. Then we could transfer him to the crib.

We only lasted two days.

There was no way either of us was going to spend better than a week cooped up in a bedroom and taking two hours out of every day in order to cuddle a toddler to sleep. It was ridiculous. On the third morning, we packed up and drove home. The drive home was also fairly miserable. The Boy was fussy…and when we tried to stop for dinner, he had a full on meltdown in Steak N’ Shake. Like, he cried for 15 minutes and The Man finally said “To hell with this” and took him to the car. I tried in vain to tell our server to just box up our order, wolfed down 1/2 of a sandwich, and we left.

Now we’re home and working to repair The Boy. The unwillingness to sleep has come home with us, but we aren’t putting up with it here. He goes into his crib and we check on him at five minute intervals (which is how we sleep trained him to begin with). He’s finally to he point where, although he still protests being laid down, he only cries for a minute before calming down.

His behavior is also somewhat deplorable. I don’t know how much of this is leftover freak-out from our trip, and how much of it is just him being almost two and probably starting to test his boundaries and being normally defiant. It’s draining, most days.

However, he continues to be my super smart genius baby. He knows the names of many shapes, numbers, colors, and letters. He will often count very fast under his breath, so sometimes he’ll be running around going “eight, noine, teen, leven, telve, tirteen”. It sounds very funny. He’ll pick up one of his shapes and say “Dimond!” and it is, in fact, a diamond. Colors are more hit and miss. If I ask him to point to the pink one, sometimes he will, sometimes no.

The meltdowns are a trial. I know that this is just how toddlers are. They don’t really have the capacity to process strong emotions properly, so fits and meltdowns are just a matter of life. But it really seems like someone flipped his switch into demon mode sometimes.

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May 06 2010

Just the usual stuff.

My husband asked me today to set up a blog for him.  This might be a sign of the coming apocalypse.  I’m not sure.  I need more time to analyze this data.

Another sign of the apocalypse:  I’m really not feeling my own blog, lately.  Between Facebook and Twitter and my Droid, it seems like I do a lot of writing, and staying in touch, but when I look back over what I’ve actually DONE in a month, in terms of writing, it’s not much.  But what do I have to write about, really?  I have a pretty quiet life.

The one thing that is sort of not quiet right now is that Mackers and I are embarking on a new business venture.  I guess I should say we’re sticking our toes in the water of a new business venture, because we are Cautious Cathys (or at least I am).  She’s doing some perfumes, massage oils, and therapeutic balms and such, and I’m working on lotions and salts and lip balms and your basic “I feel pretty” things.  For now, the plan is to share booth space at several local craft shows and see what happens.  Our first show is coming up June 12 and I am a Nervous Nelly (see, personality crises abound!) because it is a New Thing and, as we all know, I am not big on New Things.  New Things give me stomach pain.

SPEAKING of stomach pain and new things, The Man and I were recently up north at Dr. Mom and Moll’s, and we discussed taking home Milo, a Corgi who belongs to one of their neighbors and who is a very sweet boy.  However, my Big Anxiety prevented this from happening, as I could not get over the utter nervousness of taking another dog home and having it not work out for various reasons.  I’ve been dog-burned.  Therefore, Milo remains with his owner, who is OK with that, and we remain dog-free.  This makes me a little sad, but it’s probably for the best right now.  Our cats are old and cranky, I’m a bundle of nerves, and introducing a new animal into that mix is….well, let’s just say The Man has only so much sanity to go around.

I’ve been working on the gardens lately.  I got some tiger lilies from my Grandma and some bluebells from Milo’s owner.  I moved some stuff out of the berm that was taking over (FYI: yarrow spreads like a mofo) and added some things to the butterfly garden, which I’m now calling the St. Francis garden, mostly because there is now a statue of St. Francis back there.  I call him Frankie-baby in my head, which is in NO WAY respectful, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

Also, this year is The Year of Seeing If We Can Get Edible Apples (doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?) and also The Year of Keeping The Stupid Birds From Eating My Berries.  There are now nets over the berry patch and we are spraying the apple tree for the first time ever.  Let’s see if that extensive pruning campaign paid off, shall we?

I’m looking forward to the summer,  but I know I’m getting old because it was JUST February like, yesterday.  Tomorrow it will be August.  Time flies, tempus fugit, whatever you want to say.  Sometimes I’m scared that I’ll wake up at 55 and think “What did I do with my life?” but, day-to-day, I’m happy.  I’m content.  I don’t really WANT to be out there, doing some exciting job, making the big bucks, or seeing the world.

Hey, this entry sure went all over, didn’t it?  I think this is what happens when I don’t write enough.  Verbal. Spewing.

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Nov 23 2009

Unplanned up north trip.

Published by under The Fam,The Man,Travel

We were up north this past week, at Dr. Mom and Moll’s.  I had offered months ago to come up anytime they needed me, and this week, they called me on it.  The Man came along mostly so that I didn’t have to drive on opening day of deer season, in the dark, in deer country.  He was NOT on vacation.  He worked all week from Moll’s soon-to-be bakery, where the internets are speedy.

I was up there to do some work on a room in the barn that The Man and I had framed in this past summer.  However, we didn’t get to that until Thursday.  Let’s see if I can remember what we did all week…

Sunday:  Driving up.  Driving, driving driving.  Arriving and eating.  Sleeping.

Monday:  Collecting wood from the cow pasture – several trees had been cut down and sawed into logs, but not picked up.  We picked them up, Dee and I (Dee is Dr. Mom’s sister and The Man’s aunt) split and stacked the first load together.  I split and “stacked” (aka threw into a trailer) the second load alone so that Dee and Dr. Mom could do something to the pig pen…I’m not exactly sure what.  I was too busy singing songs to myself and splitting wood.  Before you get a totally inaccurate picture of me weilding an axe with any sort of strength and precision, let me just say that I was using a hydraulic wood splitter.  That evening, Dr. Mom and I unloaded half a load of hay and stacked it.

Tuesday:  Took Teddy and Pepper (Pepper is Dee’s schnauzer, who was also dog-bit) to the vet to get stitches removed.  Teddy had to have a drain put back in to one of the bite sites, as it had swelled.  If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you must not be one of my Facebook friends.  The short version is that Mr. Ted was bitten half to death two weeks ago by another dog.  He is recovering, but it’s slow.  He looks kind of raggedy right now.

Wednesday:  Both Dr. Mom and Moll had to work (at their “real” work, which is being psychologists) so I was alone on the farm.  I did chores and bummed around all day, mostly.  I made carnitas for dinner.

Thursday:  Worked on the room!  I was surprised at how easy it was.  The exterior walls are tongue-and-groove, so it was simply a matter of cutting the pieces to the right length (using a miter saw) and them screwing them to the stud frame.  It went fast and we got ALMOST all of it done.  Dr. Mom still has to frame in a window and there are two pieces that need to go up on the side facing the goats.  We’ll probably finish that over New Year’s if it hasn’t been done by then.

Friday:  Dr. Mom, Dee, and I unloaded the rest of the hay.  We took the dogs for a nice long walk.  In the evening, there was a family dinner party.

It was a pretty fun week.  Busy, but fun.  I feel like we got a lot accomplished, even if it wasn’t exactly everything we planned on getting done.  Now, I’m back home and this week is Thanksgiving.  I’m contemplating making a batch of brickle or peppermint bark for one group and pound cake for the other.  I also need to do laundry and start cleaning up the bedroom.  Lots to do, and here I am typing away.  Feel lucky!

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Jun 16 2009

Scratchy scratch itch.

Published by under The Fam,The Man,Travel

Guess what, y’all?  We went up north…during Tick Season!  I know!  I’m as astounded as you are.  All I said to The Man was, “I’d really like to go up north and see everyone, and see how Mr. Ted is doing”.  And two days later, we were on the road, it being June notwithstanding.  Crazy.

We spent a long weekend up at Dr. Mom and Moll’s, and we had a very good time.  I took them up a set of four napkins that I had made, to make up for the fact that I didn’t feel like baking a pound cake to bring up.  I got to meet the new calf, Hannah, and the new baby goat, Liebchen.  Well, Liebby was only one of three new goats, but the other two were all grown up, so not as cute.  However, I took ZERO pictures, so you’re going to have to take my word on Liebchen being cute.

I also milked goats for the first time in a long time.  I didn’t want to milk the cow, though.  I’ll stick to things that are smaller than I am, thanks.

Anyway, I didn’t get a single tick on me, and The Man only saw one, I believe.  And that one was already dead, so it doesn’t count.  I did end up instigating a mass dog bathing episode, simply because I told Mr. Ted he was too dirty to pet, and needed a bath.  So, after I bathed him, Dr. Mom bathed all three of the other dogs.

On our last night there, The Man and I were left all alone in the house, because Moll had gone to Alpena for work, and Dr. Mom had gone to Marquette for work.  The Man and I were going to do the chores in the morning.  Dr. Mom asked if we’d sleep in their room with the dogs.  We weren’t going to, initially, but when I went upstairs, Mutt (being 14 years old), heaved herself upstairs after me, because she was lonely.  Talk about a guilt trip.  I told The Man that I wasn’t going to make a rickety old dog sleep on the floor because she wanted company.  So, I went back downstairs and we began the process of putting the dogs to bed, and it is a process indeed.  Three of the dogs sleep on a couch that is pushed right up against the wall.  The bed is then pushed right up to the couch.  Here’s how to put the dogs to bed:

  1. Apricot has to go first.  She’ll put her front paws up on the couch, and you have to lift her back legs up for her.  She’ll growl, but only because she’s arthritic and it hurts.
  2. Now Teddy has to be lifted onto the couch OVER Apricot up into the corner by the wall.  Teddy is like…sixty pounds or something.  The Man couldn’t quite make it and dropped him on the bed.  Oh well.  Teddy must be used to it, because he bumbled into his spot with no trouble.  Apricot growls at Teddy, but that’s just because she’s mean.  She won’t fight on the bed.
  3. Then Mutt crawls  herself up onto the end of the couch.  She doesn’t need any help, thankfully.
  4. Frisbee sleeps on a dog bed on the floor.  He doesn’t need any help either.
  5. Now, you can get into bed.  But, at some point, Mutt (who is a boxer-like size and weight) will crawl into bed with you and take up more than her fair share of the space.  Plus, she snores.  Plus, she farts.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep well that night.  But the good part is that we were both up bright and early, and got all the barn chores done sooner than we expected to, which meant we got on the road sooner than expected, as well.   We’ll go back up again in August, and Lucky and Galleta will also be there.

I’m working on getting the laundry done now.  That is the worst part of coming home from a trip.  Bleh.

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Feb 23 2009

Itty bitty.

Published by under Photos

Dr. Mom sent a picture of a new calf.  One of her Dexter cows had her first baby, and it is a teeny weeny baby.  Here’s a picture of the baby bull with Mister Ted, one of the Welsh Corgis.


Dexters are small cows, but for some reason, the tininess of the calf still surprised me.  He looks very sweet.

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