Improving Family Fun Time

Erik bought us a Wii Fit this weekend. He told me he wants me to "do the yoga stuff so we can boink like circus freaks"... Interesting.
I told him to focus on the strength training stuff so that we can improve our stamina.

Maybe I should get him to focus on the yoga...

Starbucks. It's My Grown-up Medicine.

Laine is sick. Starting Friday evening she got a really stuffy nose and would sneeze every now and then. Then all day Saturday she was stuffy and snotty and coughing, and Sunday she was just plain miserable. Today she is better. I think she's okay anyway. I hope she's okay, no, I know she's okay; I just can't stop thinking about her while I sit here at my desk, far, far away from her. Mom’s taking care of her and I got a photo from her so I know she’s fine, I have proof that she is fine; but I’m not. I need to be close to her, taking care of her myself. I feel like I’m snubbing my responsibilities; I should have taken the day off work and stayed home with her.
Even though Laine slept somewhat peacefully after the Tylenol kicked in, I was up about every hour and a half to check on her. Around three thirty this morning I just had to give up on getting any sleep. Her breathing kept spontaneously clearing up so it sounded to me like she wasn’t breathing at all which would wake me up with a violent start and I’d jump out of bed, not easily done with a body shape conforming foam mattress and a blubberous midsection, to check on her. Once I realized that the rest of the night would be just me continuing to get an abdominal workout I decided to get up and do some laundry instead.
Stupid sickness hurting my baby.
Stupid paranoid parent syndrome making me crazy.

Life With Bitty

A lot has been happening in the last few weeks and I’m going to try to update on all of it but for the most part the photos will have to speak for themselves. Maybe.

We had a super lazy weekend but got some amazing pictures out of it.

She's been geting into those Dynamo games with dad.

Laine had her four month check up last Friday, she is now fourteen pounds and twenty-four inches and that means that in the last two months Laine has grown three inches and gained three pounds. When Jacob was four months old he was nineteen pounds, so I don’t know if she is behind or if this is just her pace, but I’m going to go with the “everything-is-fine-and-my-baby-is-perfect” outlook on the situation.

She got three more shots at this checkup and she still has little knots on her thighs but we’ve been rubbing at them and they seem to be going away.
She is officially into size two diapers, the last of the one-two got used this morning.
We went swimming for the first time at Erik’s parent’s house. I forgot to pack her swimsuit so we went naked and loved it. Grandma got in the water with us but I think Laine was more interested in chewing on grandma’s fingers than she was in the actual water, but she took to the water really well.

She’s a lounger. She’s her mother’s daughter. We spent the majority of the time trying to keep the sun off her and then dad came out with the smarts and got us an umbrella.

I’m pretty sure she’s going to start teething soon.

All that drooling and gnawing on fingers has to mean something other than she’s hungry.

We were given permission to start on rice cereal this week;

She's dong so well with it.

She doesn’t have the problems swallowing the cereal like we were told she would, she doesn’t spit much out, and the only time it gets all over her is when something makes her smile when she has her mouth full. Due to the fact that she's got me and Erik standing over her and applauding each bite she takes that happens a lot.

We are proud parents of a genius child, what can we say?

Roger and Elaine = Erik and Amanda

This is somthing that I came across in my random browsing of the internet today. I will be so much more than just surprised if evey one of you can not relate.


A Matter of Sex
possibly by Dave Barry

A guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts. They have a pretty good time. A few nights later, he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else. And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"
And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Gosh, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship. Maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Wow, six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward.... I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking: So that means it was ... let's see ... February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means ... lemme check the odometer ... Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here!
And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment. Maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they'd better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a crummy garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600!
And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. Oh, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs!
And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to care about me, a person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl, romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty! I'll take their warranty and stick it....
"Roger," Elaine says aloud.
"What?" says Roger, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have said ... Oh, I feel so...." She breaks down sobbing.
"What?" says Roger.
"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight; I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Roger.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine asks.
"No!" says Roger. He's glad he finally knows the correct answer.
"It's just that ... that ... I need some more time," Elaine says.
There is a long pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally, he comes up with one that he thinks might work.
"Yes," he says.
Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand. "Oh Roger, do you really feel that way?" she asks.
"What way?" asks Roger.
"That way, about time," says Elaine.
"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."
Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.
"Thank you, Roger," she says.
"Thank you," says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn. Roger, in the meantime, gets back to his place, opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure that there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)
The next day, Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing squash one day with Elaine's brother, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: "Bill, did Elaine ever own a horse?"

Six Word Memior

Made a mess. Cleaned it up.