LOST- Desmond in Wonderland

This evening we followed Desmond in and out of the future and the past in a somewhat confusing Alice and Wonderland adventure that ultimately gave us some tremendous insights into the world of LOST.

Let me begin by saying that there is a LOST fan that has come up with a theory re: the island, which is highly scientific and very detailed and is getting a lot of attention on the LOST boards. Many believe it is in fact on the right track in solving the mystery. If you have about 30 minutes and want a good science-fiction read, go over here.

Okay, back to the show,
We see the boys on the helicopter travel through a lightning storm in order to get back to the boat, following Dan's strict instructions to stay on the right heading. However, the instructions were to stay on the heading of 40 degrees North. The pilot veered off course just a little, and got bumped between 33 and 35 degrees North. As such, there were some "side effects," most notably that Desmond is now traveling back and forth between 1996 and 2004, and has no recollection of where he is when he's back in present time.

We find out that someone on the boat wants to help the LOSTIES out, (I think it's Michael.) We also meet the radio transmitter, who is suffering from the same affliction that Desmond now has. He soon dies from a brain bleed of some sort.

We also learn from Dan that time on the island does not in fact move at the same rate as time everywhere else. We learn that exposure to electro-magnetic fields will affect one's mental abilities and could in fact cause "side effects," i.e., time travel, seeing into the future, etc.

Also discovered is the fact that Penny has been searching for Desmond for three years and her father is gathering up artifacts of items that are on the island (the journal from the Black Rock.) I find this very curious.

Finally, with the help of Sayid, Desmond calls Penny at home in England and they profess their love to one another. He is saved from an impending brain short-circuit and ultimate death; at least for now.


From the "mirror matter theory," (link above) there is an explanation as to how people get on and off the island, an easier explanation is found on the LOST boards that basically uses "Pirates of the Caribbean 3" as an example. If you have seen the movie, then you are familiar with the scene when they flip the boat upside down in the ocean to get out of "Davie Jone's Locker." In the same way, on the island you have to go through an electrical storm to get off the island. Or at least this is the theory.

I fear that Desmond is still doomed, however, and from the previews from next week, it looks like Claire's demise may be coming sooner than later.

According to the LOST website, a regular cast member will perish soon, I predict that either Desmond is going the way of Eloise the rat, or we're going to see the end of Claire.

To sum up, the island is stuck in some kind of parallel dimension to earth. You get to the island using exact coordinates, electro-magnetic fields and the help of a lightning storm. Traveling to and from the island can cause severe brain damage as well as the ability to time travel against your will. Desmond will live because Penny is his "constant." Dan will live because Desmond is his constant.

And now I would like to see more of Kate and the baby Aaron. But that's just me.

Someone is on the Move!

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Way to go, squeaky!

After a frustrating customer service experience, I wrote the following letter on Saturday:

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To: (Joe's Sporting Good's Customer Service Automated Email Portal)

I had a rather frustrating experience with one of your stores this morning and wanted to relay it with you in hopes that some improvements could be made.

I own an Instep jogging stroller and am trying to purchase a rain cover for it. I went to the Instep website to determine where I could find the rain cover for my stroller and Instep pointed me to Joe’s Sporting Goods as a retailer of their jogging strollers. As I live 45 minutes away from the store, I looked online to confirm this fact, and sure enough, Joe’s does carry InStep strollers. I then called the Lakewood, Washington Store (#17) to see if they carried the cover in stock before I made the drive.

The first time I called I was placed on hold indefinitely. After 5 minutes of silence with no feedback and no pickup, I hung up and called back.

The second time I called, I was told by a young-sounding female that Joe’s “doesn’t sell jogging strollers.” I informed her that I was currently online while we were talking, and looking at the Joe’s website at Jogging strollers. She then told me that "the stores don’t carry what is online." I asked if she could confirm this fact with someone else before disconnecting me. She sighed heavily, and then transferred me to sporting goods.

The third person picked up the phone and said “ummmm, I don’t think we sell strollers,” but was cut off by another associate in the background who corrected him and said “yes we do, they are right there in front of you.” The associate on the phone then said “oh…uhhh, I guess we do sell strollers.”

I then told him I was looking for the rain cover, and told him I had the brand and model number, and asked if he or someone else could please look it up and see if they carried it, and if they had one in stock. He told me “he’d have to go find a pen.”

A minute or two passed before he returned to the phone and I was able to relay the model number to him. I then sat on hold another five or six minutes. He returned to tell me that Joe’s doesn’t sell rain covers for jogging strollers and hung up on me. He didn't offer to special order it, he didn't apologize. He said "we don't sell them" and hung up.

While it is frustrating that I couldn’t find what I was looking for, it is all the more frustrating that the associates didn’t seem to really know what the store sells, and I’m not really sure whether the information I was given is even correct or not.

Please provide more consistent training in customer service as well as in product knowledge for your sales associates.

Thank you,
Stephanie Scott
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I didn't think anything would come of this letter, but rather that I was just informing them of their crappy service.

Bryan and I actually drove all over kingdom come Saturday afternoon looking for another place that might sell rain covers for the stroller, but nobody carries them (remember, my stroller is old, but some new ones can fit on the old models.)

So I was very happily surprised to receive a call Monday morning at 9:00am, from the head of inventory management. She informed me that the store has been having some "issues," and that they have just recently been given a new manager.
She also told me that there were several places where the sales associates failed to provide me with basic customer service, and as such, she was going to make it up to me, if I could give her 24 hours to do some digging. She asked for the model number of both my stroller and the rain cover and told me she would get back to me by the end of the day.

A few hours later she called and told me that she was having trouble getting a hold of someone at InStep, but that she was on top of it and would call me again Tuesday. I said, "no problem." I told her I already had learned that I could order it directly from InStep myself, and I was happy to do that, but she interrupted me and asked if I could give her 24 hours first before I did that. I agreed, not really sure why she was so gung-ho about wanting to order the thing for me, but since I had complained and she was following through, I felt the need to let her do her job.

She called back Tuesday and told me she had found the product, they did carry it, and she had just wanted to make sure it was in stock, (which was why she was wanting to talk to the InStep people first) because she was sending me one free of charge for all my trouble.
WOW! Not only did I get a prompt follow-up, but I was now getting the product for free! That just saved me $25, plus shipping; sometimes the squeaky wheel does get the grease.

Rest-assured, when the rain cover gets here, I'll be sending a very nice letter to Joe's Sporting goods, thanking them for fixing the problem and for the free rain cover, because that is above and beyond.

The Result

You asked, you shall receive. Here is the first of four blankets, not all will look like this, but this is one style I'm making, modeled after the famous (and pricey) Taggie blankets. I thought I could make one pretty easily (no selling though, they're patented.)
It is pretty easy to make, once you pick out the ribbon, and of course, remember how to use your machine correctly.

The cool thing about these blankets is that there are several different textures for baby to touch and feel. The green bumpy side is called "minkee" and is super soft. The monkey print side is a really soft flannel. And of course, the ribbons are all different textures and sizes for the baby to pull on and grab. I triple reinforced the ribbons inside so that they can really be yanked on but won't come loose, and then put a top stitch around the outside edge for good measure.

This blanket is being gifted at a baby shower this Friday, it is for a baby of unknown gender (hence the green and the yellow.)

And the Darwin Award goes to:

It turns out that even though my grandmother taught me to sew in college and I have been using her old machine every week for over a year now, I still don't know what I'm doing. To catch the bobbin thread, you have to turn the wheel toward you, not away from you. I expect MENSA will be calling any day now.

Profanity! Part Deux.

Why do machines hate me so? What have I done to anger the industrial gods?
Why is it that every time I try to complete a project, I cannot complete said project because of the failure of a product that is in fact, created to make my life easier?
I am trying to make a baby blanket for a friend. I am in fact, trying to make three baby blankets for three friends, one of whom will require said blanket at her baby shower this Friday. All was going fine, the sewing machine was whirring away with no trouble. This was until I had to put more thread on the bobbin. For some reason, once I removed said bobbin from the chamber and put more thread on it, my machine decided it hated me and was going on strike.
I cannot get the needle to catch the bobbin thread. I have re-thread my machine oh, I don't now, like 10 times, just in case there was operator error. I just spent the last hour fighting with my machine and resorting to reading through the manual, looking over the pictures, making sure I wasn't making any stupid mistakes: nope. Everything is where it should be, and yet the stinking needle just goes up and down, up and down, whilst I hold the thread in my left hand, as I have done a thousand times before. It will not catch the thread. Why is this a problem? Well, if it doesn't catch the thread from the bobbin, this means it won't sew. Which means I am SOL. So, I have two of ummm...25 quilt or so squares completed, and I have more blankets to make.
So I am just a little incensed at the moment. And as this particular sewing machine (which is usually a total workhorse) happens to have been built in 1957, it is not like I can just call up Singer and ask for some help.
Needless to say, there have been a few profane words spoken this night.

Evie and Sage Play again

Jill and I got together again today for a little adult interaction, and of course, so the girls could "play." At this point in the game, playing consists of following each other around and copying whatever the other does, and also, stealing toys from one another.

Sage was looking pink and cute, and sassy, while Evie was going for the "I'm at home and I'm feeling a little more causal" look.

She was up at 5:55 this morning and was not interested in sleeping, so when it was time to get dressed I just grabbed some stretchy pants and a onesie from the dresser and called it good. I see now in retrospect that the sweatshirt really "butches" up her outfit.

Picture 1: Communicating telepathically, obviously discussing their hostile takeover; starting first with no more naps.


Picture 2: Investigating the basket of books.


Picture 3: Evie looks at me with total disdain. I assume she's upset about the outfit.

And the Oscar goes to...

Nobody. That was a good solid waste of five hours. Wow, what a snooze fest. Jon Stewart was funny in his opening monologue, as was expected, but after that, what the heck? This is what happens when you have a writers strike and then come to terms two weeks before the biggest show of the year. They need more time to prepare, it seems.

At one point, they did a little mini-tribute recapping every "Best-Picture" winner of the past 79 years. I cannot decide whether it speaks well of me, or ill of me that I have only seen around 30 of the last 79 winners. I don't think that's a very good statistic.

And I can certainly tell you I have absolutely no intention of seeing the winner from this year. "No Country for Old Men," can win all the awards it will, I have no desire to see people getting murdered just for the art of it.

LOST- a recap and reaction...further analysis...updated again at 2:30 on Friday

Ok friends, another episode of LOST and perhaps the biggest shocker yet.

Tonight we were given a flash-forward episode for Kate, and all I have to say is, it's about time! We get to see what happens when Kate goes back to the real world and finally has to face the music regarding her multiple arrest warrants.

We also learn that Miles is willing to lie to his "boss," and tell him that Ben is dead in return for a 3.2 million payoff. Ben seems genuinely interested in this exchange, and negotiates a week to get the money.

Finally, we learn that (big surprise) the helicopter has gone missing and nobody has seen or heard from the people on it.

But that was all just filler; back to Kate.

When the show started, I was so excited to write my blog. I was ready to reveal to the unsuspecting audience that "guess what? Kate is sooooo pregnant!!!" This is why she is so anxious to go back to the mainland, because pregnant women die on the island. But my figuring all this out was in fact not all that monumental, since the entire episode was about Kate's mystery baby.

Cut back to real-time: Kate and Sawyer have another romp in the proverbial sack, (where did she get the new lacy underwear, by the way?) but she has a change of heart mid-romp and he blames it on the pregnancy. She tells him she's not pregnant, he is overjoyed at the news; she is disgusted at his reaction, he gets mad and accuses her of running between he and Jack, she smacks him (rightly so) and then walks out. We assume she was testing him, and actually lied about not being pregnant to see what he would do. We also assume that she interrogated Miles about his knowledge of her past to see whether it is or is not safe to return to the mainland with her impending baby...(nope.)

Fast-forward to the future: We learn that Kate's mother lived through her illness in the hospital from two seasons ago. We learn that Kate has a son. We learn that Jack is still very much in love with Kate, so much so that he will lie under oath to save her.

We learn that with the help of the testimony of lying, doe-eyed, love-struck Jack, and a desire to see her grandson, Kate's mom is influenced to not testify against Kate. Kate is therefore given a deal by the over-zealous, very bitter prosecutor, who I believe but cannot be sure, is the mother of Kate's high school love who was killed in Kate's hospital-escape car chase.

***Correction*** After laying in bed last night pondering the identity of the prosecutor some more (because I have nothing more interesting to think about) I remembered that perhaps she is instead, the mother of Anna Lucia, who was tragically shot by Michael. She was at one time, the hard as nails police chief, and could very likely have become the D.A. I cannot remember for sure, but this is what I am currently thinking.
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Later in the flash-forward, Jack meets up with Kate in the parking lot, confesses his love, and wants to take her out for coffee. She invites him to her place instead, he refuses. Kate tells him there will be no 'Jack and Kate' until he comes to see the baby. We assume he doesn't want to see the baby because he is feeling jealous of Sawyer's spawn.

So we watch Kate go home to her big beautiful house, paid for by (we assume) the Oceanic settlement money. She is a loving and dedicated mother, with a devoted nanny. She walks up the long, beautiful staircase in to the adorably appointed nursery, and sits on the bed of the cute little blond-headed boy. He wakes up from his nap and says hi to his mommy, she runs her fingers through his hair, and scoops him up in her arms. We assume she is going to greet him, with "hi James," or "hi Sawyer."

And then it happens...the moment you never saw coming: AARON. The kid's name is Aaron. Aaron is Claire's baby; the baby born on the island; the baby that Kate doesn't want to hold at the beginning of the episode because "she's not good with babies."

Of course, now we know why all those scenes with Claire and her little baby have occurred. We're being set up, you see. It's irony. It's called a "bait and switch." At one point Claire and Kate have a conversation about how great a mother Claire is, and "who would have ever thought this is something Claire would have ever been good at- being a mother?"

This is all fore-shadowing for us, so that when we see Kate being a wonderful doting mother, we will be ready. It will all come full-circle. But then when the baby is Claire's baby, we'll be all "whaaat?!?!" Oh Damon Lindeloff, you tricky, tricky fellow.

And this of course, explains why Jack doesn't want anything to do with the baby- the baby, you remember, is his nephew. Claire is his half sister, since his dad had a little romp on the side (with Claire's mom) years ago.
Obviously there is something terrible that happens to Claire, and Jack discovers the family tie and it is all too weird for him, and thus, he is avoiding it all, as only Jack can do.

Remember that in a previous flash-forward episode this season, Jack visits Hurley in institution and is concerned that Hurley will "tell the truth."

In Kate's trial, Jack spins quite a tale, telling the jury how after the crash, there were only eight survivors. Kate was the big hero, pulling them all out of the water.a She nursed their wounds and kept them alive and kept their spirits up when the chips were down. It was all very moving and quite false. Kate gets sick of the lies and stops him cold, right there in the middle of the trial. Later, Kate tells Jack in the parking lot that she has heard him tell the story so many times, she's worried he is starting to believe it.

We know that there are only "six" that make it back, which means that somehow in the story they have agreed to tell everyone, two people don't live to be rescued.
It's obvious some folks are still back on the island, since Jack tells Kate in the fast forward in the season finale of last year, that they "have to go back!"

I would imagine however, that Claire is NOT one of those people still alive. UNLESS, she becomes an "other," and because of the prophesy by the psychic so many seasons ago, telling her to not let her baby be raised by an "other," (or was it "another?") she may have decide to relinquish Aaron to Kate's care. I doubt it. Especially since in Desmond's vision he related to Charlie, Claire and Aaron are in a helicopter and make it out. This therefore leads me to believe that something happens to Claire in the rescue, (she's one of the eight) and Kate takes Aaron as her own.

Of course, there is also the possibility that Aaron is actually not Claire's Aaron, but in fact, Kate's baby and named after Aaron.

A couple things I find odd:

Kate jumps at the chance to stay in the state on probation for the next 10 years, per the deal offered by the D.A., she has no desire to leave, ever, on the pretense that she has a son. Why does she want to have to stay in-state, by a court order?

She calls him the "baby," he's obviously not a baby, but a tot.
She doesn't want her mother to see the baby.
She doesn't want her son in the courtroom.
She doesn't want him anywhere near the TV.

What is she protecting him from? The others, who were tormenting Hurley? the people Sayid is hunting? Claire? Did she steal Aaron from Claire? Is her really her son, named after Aaron?

Many questions now my friends...All I know is this was one of the best episodes in quite a long time.

What we do all day

This is the kind of thing I do all day...follow Evie around and free her when she gets herself stuck. But first, I take a picture, so that when my husband comes home and asks, "what did you do today?" I can point him here, and say "look."

After you have unfolded all the clothes your mother just folded, (see sock on the floor) pull half of the toys out of basket and then climb in while your mother looks on.


Realize you are stuck and start whining, while your unfeeling mother only takes your picture, but does nothing to help you


Just give up and lay your head down, since you really do need a nap after all

Unidentified Odor

My Jeep has had an unidentified odor for over a week now, and this annoys me to no end.

Let me preface this by telling you that I am obsessive about my Jeep, and the contents within. I do not keep a litter bag in my car, which annoys many who ride in it. I do not have a litter bag because I do not want trash in my car, at all. As such, if you open something (food, candy, gum) while riding in my car, you take the trash out at the first opportunity.

(I grew up in a home where my father's car was so filthy that when you opened the door, a pile of trash would fall to the ground. This may have something to do with my now obsessive state.)

When I come home, I always put any refuse in the can next to the garage before I get Evie out of her car seat. As I walk in the house, all bottles, bags etc. are brought in immediately. The only items left in the car are the obvious, (the car seat, the car-seat blanket, the car-seat toy, the stroller, and a back-up bag of diapers, wipes etc.)

As such, I cannot for the life of me figure out where this disgusting odor has originated or why it has continued to plague me. Evie has never had a blow-out in the car, we've never spilled a bottle. She doesn't eat finger foods yet, so I know she didn't smash up some fruit in her car seat.

I even had Jill smell it today after our walk, she confirmed it is a "weird spoiled milk rotten kind of smell, but with a hint of vanilla."

I have gone through my entire car from top to bottom. Bryan has done the same. We have aired it out. We have looked under the seats, in the pockets, behind the cushions, we can find nothing. I did have a couple cloth diapers in a pocket that were there for emergency spit-up incidents, but they were clean. I took them out anyway and washed them for good measure.

We've rinsed off the rubber floor mats (easier to keep clean) and sprayed Oust in the car to trap and get rid of odors. I'm not sure what else to do.

All I know is that my car smells, and it is gross and it is making me crazy.

Getting out again...

The day was bright, the sun was out, the air, crisp. The phone rang, it was Jill, inviting me to join her and Karen, another friend from Kopachuck, (where I did my student-teaching,) to go for a walk. Evie was already up from her nap, and I thought what better way to spend an afternoon? So we loaded up and headed to downtown Gig Harbor to get a little fresh air and some vitamin D.

After figuring out where to park, (which required moving my vehicle thrice,) we were off. I immediately realized I was ill-prepared for this walk. Jill and Karen have been walking for a while now, this was my first walk in, well, let’s say at least a year. So, I had the extra 30 pounds or so. Then, there was the stroller. I didn’t get the memo; Jill and Karen had new matching jogging strollers. I do have an old jogging stroller (that belonged to my neighbor 10 years ago,) but it doesn’t really fold easily and I didn’t want to fuss with it, so I just brought my little lightweight, collapsing stroller. I quickly regretted my decision. My stroller has four little wheels that turn independently from one another. It is lightweight and collapses easily with one hand, which is awesome when you’re going to Target. It is not great however, for walking around the Harbor.

Also, I was just wearing jeans and a polo (my daily uniform.) My undergarments were, ummm, not made for a long walk. I am still wearing nursing bras, even though I haven’t been nursing now for about three months. The issue is that the “girls” have yet to deflate, and because they are so ginormous, I already have to go to a specialty boutique that is only open 4 days a week, from 10-4 and, let’s not discuss the price of these babies. As such, the “girls” were flipping and flopping all over the place, and the elastic was chafing me in ways I find offensive. The entire time I felt the need to reach down and pull them back up into their proper position, but I needed my hands to push the stroller, and propriety didn't allow for self -adjustment, so I had to soldier on.

The walk was about two hours long, and I have to tell you, I am very proud of myself. These ladies are very fit, and have been walking for a while now. This was my first time, and to go from a sedentary life of sickness to a two-hour walk of fitness, without a decent bra and the tiny-wheeled stroller, is I think, well-executed.

At the end of our walk, we stopped in the local baby store, which requires one to leave one’s wallet in the car to prevent unwanted spending on all the cuteness. I fear I was annoying however, walking around looking at the super-cute homemade boutique bibs, blankets and toys, all the while continually saying, “I could totally make that at home, I should make this stuff, I could help supplement the income.”
I could hear myself talking, and inside my head, I said "shut up, shut up, shut up," and yet, my mouth wouldn’t shut.

All in all, I think it was a great day. I had a wonderful time with the ladies. It was great to have some adult conversation with intelligent women who also have babies and can relate. I feel really proud of myself for the big long walk, and proud of myself for keeping up with the other two, very fit mommies with their super cool, very speedy jogging strollers (that I completely covet.)

What does it say about me that now that I'm home and I did some really good walking, all I want to do is bake some really big, peanut butter/ chocolate chip cookies? I've been craving cookies all week, and now that I walked today, I feel that they are justified. This, my friends, is why I look the way I do.

Play date!

Evie met little Sage at mom's group last week. Her mommy and I used to teach together and decided to have play date this afternoon. The girls are two weeks apart and enjoyed playing with (and eating) the wooden spoons; all the other toys were ignored entirely.

Putting my CPR training to good use...

We survived our first real-life emergency today.
Evie was sitting on my lap and I was reading to her from a parent's magazine. (Nothing I read means anything to her right now, so I was reading to myself, but adding funny voices and embellishment for her.) She kept trying to rip the pages, so I handed her the one of the paper subscription cards to play with while I read.

She was happily flapping the card wildly and tearing at it while I read when she suddenly started gagging. I flung the magazine to the side, and flipped her around to see that she had ripped a corner off the subscription card and had apparently decided to eat it. I laid her on her back (not very gently, I might add) and put my finger in her mouth to try to get the paper out, only to discover it was in fact lodged in her throat. At this point, she was turning read, tears streaming down her face and the gagging had turned to full-on choking.

I remembered the infant CPR class I took before I was pregnant, and immediately flipped her over on her stomach, and with two firm blows, I smacked her little back with the heel of my hand. I heard her exhale with a "grrumpph." She then started screaming.
I flipped her back over, and pried her mouth open, to find the wad of paper jammed in her cheeks like a chipmunk. With one hand I held open her mouth, while I reached in with the other hand and removed the offensive paper.

Once the paper was out, (and immediately thrown in the garbage, as well as all other subscription cards that were in the magazine,) I held her to my chest and we both sobbed together. I began to shake a little, as the severity of the situation came over me.

While choking is something many parents contend with at one point or another, it is still terrifying, and the realization of what could have happened is equally as horrific. Especially when I realized that it was me, the idiot mother, who handed the baby the piece of paper to play with in the first place. The paper she ripped and then choked on.

Parenting is so much fun.

Baby Talk

She says: "Ah da da da da, bah!" Over and over and over again, while standing in her crib, jumping.

Translation:
"Dearest mother, my nap today will be of the 45 minute variety and I would be most pleased if you would come retrieve me from this wooden contraption. Thank you."

My own little Lifetime Special

Well baby girl slept last night, but momma did not. Bryan and I got her down around 9:30 last night and then prayed to the Good Lord that she would finally find some sleep. We went to bed shortly thereafter and watched a couple of episodes of The West Wing, our evening ritual. Bryan drifted off to sleep around 11:00 and I lain awake. One hour passed and I was still awake. Two hours then three hours passed, still I lain in bed, staring at the ceiling. I wasn't fully awake, just in that groggy, "I know that I'm not asleep, but I'm not really completely wide awake" state. I hadn’t been feeling really great all day, and I was getting annoyed that I was unable to achieve sleep; something with which I often struggle.

It was sometime around three a.m. that I was struck by the lightning. Not in a metaphorical sense, in an actual, literal, “I was struck by electricity in my head” kind of a way. Ok, so a real bolt of lightening did not shoot through my house and hit me in the head. The lightning came from my brain, but nonetheless, I was struck by an electrical impulse.
So there I was, a shock wave shooting down the left side of my face. My eyeball was wiggling around in a spastic way, and I could feel my entire left side going numb. I thought to myself, “$@#&, I am having a stroke.”

Remember, I wasn’t asleep, but also not fully awake. And because of the previous two nights, this was my third night without rest; my brain was not functioning properly.

I continued to lie there, wondering about the severity of the stroke. I thought about whether I would be able to talk, or walk or if I’d be one of those very sad people on “Extreme Home Makeover,” and Bryan would be heroic with his vegetable wife, raising his little baby girl alone, while I lie a prisoner in my body, aware of my surroundings, but unable to communicate. And it was all very sad and very tragic, and an entire episode of Oprah played out in my mind while I lie in bed, feeling my entire left side going numb.

Then I remembered that I should probably stop playing my Lifetime special in my head, but take stock of the situation. I tried wiggling my fingers, they would move, but it felt like they were full of lead. My calf muscles were cramping, and my hands were curling up into fists. My entire face felt numb and rubbery. My heart was racing and a slew of profanity and panic swept through my mind all at once.

And then it hit me: “I’ve been here before. I’ve in fact felt this sensation before…you aren’t having a stroke, you’re having the beginning of a seizure.” And then the cobwebs were shook loose and I realized that I was getting a migraine. “Oh yes, a migraine. This is what a migraine looks like for me. I remember now. What do we do for migraines? We take our medication…but I already took my regular migraine meds before bed. But I have the other medication- the emergency medication, to stop the seizure. It’s in the bathroom in the drawer. The bathroom is over there, across the room. Can you walk across the room?”

And so I laid there another few minutes having a discussion with myself, debating as to whether I should wake Bryan up or not. The migraine hadn’t taken full effect yet; I knew I had about five more minutes before the full seizure-like-thing was going to happen. I didn’t want to wake Bryan up, no need for him to lose sleep as well. So I sat up and stumbled slowly across the room, smashing into the bed, banking off the dresser. I took my pill and made it back to bed with a couple of minutes to spare before the real numbness took hold.

My eye continued to pulse, my face continued to feel rubbery, my calves tightened, my hands balled up into fists and I laid on my back, stiff, waiting for the medication to take effect; it took about 20 minutes.

Bryan got up with Evie this morning and played with her until 9:30. I told him I got a bad migraine in the night, and I guess he could tell from my appearance that I wasn’t playing.

My headache is just a dull roar today and my muscles have relaxed, although I feel like I did a triathlon in the night. Evie did manage to sleep all night (thank God!) Bryan has gone off to work and bless him, he offered (and I accepted) to take his dogs with him. I’m not really sure how that works, and I didn’t ask, but it is much quieter around here today without their incessant howling.

The siege continues

She is still not feeling well, which translates to her not sleeping well. Last night we were up with her until 4:30 am; she was up again at 7:30 this morning.
Her fever has broken, but she's still cranky. We in turn are also cranky and exhausted. We've also both blown our diets this weekend, unable to quell the cravings for unhealthy foods and both too tired to care.
We finally just got her her to sleep, we are hopeful she will stay asleep this time, even though she has been unable to do so the last three nights.

In other news, Bryan is currently watching the new "Knight Rider," show which I find slutty, ridiculous and ultimately one big giant Ford commercial, although I guess one really should expect nothing less from a show based on a talking car.

Bryan is currently entering a contest to win a "KITT" car; he thinks it's awesome. Apparently I have the wrong chromosomes to appreciate the wonder that is the KITT car.

All is not quiet on the Western Front

Evie is sick again. She has a fever, diarrhea, a runny nose a bad cough and a blazing hot diaper rash. We took her to the pediatrician today where we learned she has a nasty sinus infection. She is now on antibiotics and we are to continue to push fluids. She has been pretty cranky (as I imagine one who’s hind-end is chapped would be) and I have done all I can to try to comfort my little lamb. I have held her, rocked her, sang to her, read to her, played with her, given her bottles at her beckon call. I have slathered her little bottom in bag balm and A&D Ointment and given her soothing warm baths.
But when she became over-tired and whiney, falling over herself and conking on the floor, collapsing into a weeping heap, I knew it was time for a nap.

But she has other ideas. She is refusing to nap. She is just standing in her crib, holding the rails like a prisoner, screaming. She needs to nap, I need her to nap. Her eyes have taken on a reptilian quality, she is whining, she is inconsolable, she refuses her bottle, she doesn’t want to be held, her diaper is dry. And yet there she stands in protest, convinced that napping is the last possible thing she should be doing. And so continues the fun that is the relationship between mother and daughter. I tell her what is best for her; she stands in defiance, telling me how wrong I am. And so we wait each other out, seeing which one will blink first. I tell you, I have no plans to blink today.

No-Nap Napoleon Strikes Again

Hangin' with Kyla in the Kitchen

Cheap Entertainment

Mommy did my hair

Since her hair already stands straight up, I thought I'd just point it in the same direction this time. She was looking a little like a rockstar tonight.

What to wear when you caucus.

By the way, I gave a speech at the Caucus and was elected as an official delegate for our precinct (Bryan is my alternate.) I'm so excited to get to participate on an official level! This evening when CNN was tracking the polling and showed the total number of delegates for Washington state, I looked at Bryan and said with much excitement and glee, "look, that's me!!!"
I will definitely represent my district with pride.

LOST- Still confused?

If you haven't watched but still plan to, don't read this.

For those of you who did watch, have you any thoughts?

We open this episode underwater, locating the supposed wreckage of the doomed Oceanic flight. The plane is intact; the passengers are all inside, dead.

We also meet the rescue team, who isn't really a rescue team at all, but rather a physicist, an anthropologist and a ghost “buster” of sorts. They are here, we find out later, to capture Ben.

When the episode begins, you are led to believe that maybe in fact the Losties are all ghosts, which would explain oh, so many things. But, then ghostbuster guy talks to dead Naomi in one way, and talks to the rest of the folks in the normal “human” fashion. So, bang goes that theory.

Also, we are introduced to the helicopter pilot who is purported to be the intended pilot of the original Oceanic flight. He sees the footage of the wreckage and the bodies, and claims that the body of the dead pilot being shown is not who the reporters claim, as he is not wearing his ring as he always would. As such, we are once again left in a fog.

At one point, we do meet the very scary fellow who haunted Hurley at the mental institution last week. He seems to be in charge of the entire operation, and is “all knowing.” He tells Naomi, rather forcibly, that “there were no survivors” of the Oceanic flight. Naomi continues to press, “but what if there are?” And he continues to say, “but there were NO survivors,” like he’s trying to remind her of the “deal” they already worked out, nod, nod, wink, wink.

This “team” after Ben seems to know all about Ben, and has a vendetta against him. Likewise, Ben seems to know all about the team, and knows their entire life story. It’s as if they are all a part of Dharma but different sects. Perhaps the team knows that Ben is the one who killed the original Dharma people and they are finally here for retribution.

As for the plane on the bottom of the ocean, my theory is that it was placed there by the Dharma goons as a cover. I’m still convinced, as I have been from the very beginning, that the Dharma folks knew exactly who was getting on that flight before it ever crashed. If you go back and watch Season 1 and 2, you can see a lot of the original Losties having interactions with Dharma people before they ever got on the plane.

The plane at the bottom of the ocean was another plane, but put there to put rescuers off the hunt, so that Dharma folks could do what they wanted.

Oh and Ben's "person" on the boat? I think it might be Michael…this is his payment for getting Walt back. That’s my other theory.

But I could totally be off here. I’m obviously just talking out of my hind-end.

Yet another way to kill your kid

It seems our baby bottles may or may not be leeching harmful chemicals into our children. Fantastic.

Milestones, Baby

In the last week Evie has done the following:

*Sat up all by herself (Thursday)

*Climbed in the toy basket and pulled out a specific toy she selected, pushing others aside (Sunday)

*Stood up with the aid of living room furniture (Monday)

*Threw a full-blown temper tantrum on her bedroom floor when she was prohibited from climbing up her dresser (Tuesday)

*Said “Dada!” when Bryan walked in the door from work (Tuesday)

*Walked across the room, while holding mama's hands (Wednesday)

Remember, she only turned seven months old on Friday. I have no idea why she is in such a rush to grow up. All I know is that we are so completely hosed.


Who needs toys when you have a barstool to play on?

I was an idiot...Some perspective on parenting

There was a time not so very long ago that I thought I had things all figured out. I was going to have a baby and I had learned from the experience of those around us. We would use only organic products, only wooden toys, only cloth diapers, only breast feed, never have the television on. We would read to her every day, and play Mozart at least an hour every evening.

We wouldn’t waste money on things like bottle sanitizers and wipe warmers; those are just a scam. We would buy used and consigned items when we could, we would be frugal. Safety would be of utmost importance and when it came to her safety, money was no object. My child would never have a meltdown in public, and if she did, I would promptly take her home to appease the masses. We would be excellent parents.

It only took a few months for me to get over myself. I have since realized that I’m an idiot. Kids are going to be kids and parents for the most part are just doing the best they can.

I had to stop breastfeeding a few months ago because of a neurological disorder. I was heartbroken that I was going to be condemning my daughter to a lifetime of compromised health and development. I’ve realized now that she’s going to be just fine.

We try to feed her good and wholesome foods but realize that she will in fact not be irrevocably harmed if she eats a French fry every once in a while. If she plays with a plastic Fisher Price toy, her skin is most likely not going to burn right off her little fingers, and chances are, if the news is on while she’s in the room, she’s not going to be doomed to childhood obesity and attention deficit disorder.

Sometimes while I’m at the grocery store, she starts crying; she’s had enough. But we are out of milk and toilet paper; I have to finish shopping. So I sling her on my hip, try to shush her the best I can and plod forward. Sometimes kids cry, it happens. And people will glare at me, but I need milk and toilet paper. I’m sorry she’s crying, it’s hard for me too, I assure you.

Sure, there are parenting styles and choices that I don’t agree with and wouldn’t want to replicate in my home, but that’s okay. I know for a fact there are things we do that people don't agree with. For the most part, parents are just doing the best they can and have their own reasons for why they make the choices they do. We don’t need to judge one another. I’m going to work much harder to keep my own mouth shut and have a little perspective.

After all, this is the toughest job we’ll ever do, and frankly, most of us are just making it up as we go along.

Rotting Her Brain...feel free to judge me

This is what happens when you have a sinus infection, the baby is getting sick again, has refused to nap all day and you just need a few minutes to make something to eat. You put her in her command station and turn on the Baby Einstein sign language video.

"At least it's educational."

This is what I tell myself as I pretend I don't know about that horrible UW study that claimed these videos are just terrible, TERRIBLE for babies.

I can see her brain just rotting out of her head, can't you?
Oh the guilt of a first-time parent.

Standing Tall

Wow....that happened REALLY Fast. She did this last night for the first time.

This is now all she wants to do today. Pulling up on the table, on the couch, the bar stool, the chair, the toy basket, my legs. This table was the first place she did it--the iPod dock was obviously her objective.

Don't worry, I was sitting right behind her; the iPod remains intact, and the whole dock is being moved up today.

Why can't we just be like everybody else?

Just about everyone gets to vote today. Everyone but Washington, that is. No, we have what we like to call a “three-tiered system.” But you see dear friends, we decided to have it AFTER we sent out the absentee ballots. This means that people think they get to vote today, but in fact, they do not. That shouldn't cause any confusion whatsoever.
No, instead we have to Caucus on Saturday. There is nothing Super about Saturday.

Evie Sleeps on Mamaw's Lap

Halftime Show: What's the Deal?

What's the deal with the trend of 60s/70s rockers playing the Superbowl Halftime show?

I know that the 'big whigs' are probably a little afraid of another "wardrobe malfunction" circa 2004, but can we not find one safe group or singer after 1976? Really?

Now I'm a fan of the 70s rock, don't get me wrong, but let's mix things up a little bit. Rolling Stones, Paul McCartney, Tom Petty? Really? Okay, so last year we had Prince, but even he was a little dated, and again, he was in fact, a he.

Have women been banned forever? Are we only allowed to sing the National Anthem? I assure you, there are plenty of female performers that can in fact be trusted to keep their parts inside their tops while singing. Just keep Justin Timberlake away, and all should be fine.

How about this: book the top-selling artist from every major genre to sing their hit from the previous year. I'm not saying that record sales = talent, (ummmm, no) but at least we'd have a little more diversity, and a more eclectic show.

I'm not saying that the Super Bowl is the place to really fight for music or gender equality, but seriously, we could certainly find someone from another genre, or at least a different decade, could we not?

Right now, I feel like I'm sitting back in my dorm room listening to a 70s rock "greatest hits" mixed tape.

Still 102

That's my temperature at the moment; we're now on day three of the fever and the head goop.
Mamaw has enjoyed visiting (I'm sure,) watching me move from the couch to the bed and back, wearing sweats, wrapped in a quilt, kleenex box and glass of water in hand.
Evie seems to be doing better, except for a little nose crustiness. Her fever only lasted that one night, and her energy level and mood seem to be un-phased.

At least she shares

Two nights ago, I had a horrible nightmare that I was run over by a train, but survived, only to be horribly maimed. I was awoken by my husband who was leaving very early for work, and was surprised to find me shaking, disoriented and covered in sweat.
Yesterday I woke up feeling like in fact, I had been run over by a train.
Today I woke up and could not breathe. Every hole in my head was sealed shut, save my mouth.
My eyes, my nose, my ears, all caked with nasty gooey goodness.
I have a fever, am coughing, my throat feels like a cat has been using it as his personal scratching post, there's a very serious chance I may lose my insides any moment and of course, it feels like I've been hit in the face with a hammer, or perhaps a small baby head.
It seems I have the same mucus that Evie had.
In the last 48 hours, I've had Tylenol flu and NyQuil. I've also covered myself with Vicks and taken a very steamy, steamy shower to try to break up the sick.
I've decided those stupid flu shots are a sham. And yet, here we are this morning, getting ready to take Evie in to get her booster. Because that's what the doctor told us to do, and we're not one to question authority.
I just hope Mamaw doesn't catch what we have. That would be horrible.