Flashbacks from Myspace part 5 - a real dining experience

I started the world of blogging on Myspace several months ago, which, of course is inferior. And I have fairly cute stories on there that I would like to have here, so I don't lose them. So, you're getting some flashbacks - that aren't really flashbacks, but worth reading about, even if out of sequence.

A real dining experience
I have decided that it would be best to eat like a one-year old. The enjoyment of eating would be so much more than the shoveling down that this mother (and so many others) has become accustomed to...due to the fact that you don't have any idea what might be thrown at you in the next 30 seconds.
Here is what ideal 'eating like a one-year old' would be like. First, you would smell your food (indside of your nose and out), touch your food, and try its texture on your tongue, face, fingers, arm, and smeared in the hair. You would taste your food in your mouth, then pull it out, examine it visually from your fingers and then taste it again.
Next you would really feel your food. You would poke it, prod it, tear it, smush it, wad it into a ball, squeeze it tightly in your fist, toss it up, throw it down on the tray surface and begin tasting in its new various shapes and density's. This of course must be followed again by visual examination, by removing item from mouth to look at the premoistened treat before retuning it to chew on. Chewing takes on different speeds and intesities as the food rolls about from side to side. It is chewed on with the mouth open and closed. The mouth is somtimes filled with a small portion, or more often, with a portion so huge you have to use both hands and all of your fingers to keep it inside of the mouth. This can become stressful for you at times. As you get full you would also experience the feeling of your food sitting on your lip...just resting there until it gets slipped into the mouth. Then, once in a while you might just watch it in or on your hands as you become a master of this partiuclar course.
At some point you may decide to devour it handful by handful, or more delicatly fork by fork full. However, once you are bored with the food, you may drop it onto the floor or fling it as far as it will go or swing it down hard with a ball players force...whatever it takes for the server to quite offering the meal choice.
Then some time later as you playing with your toys or roaming the house with lightning quick crawling abilities...it is possible, that if mother has not picked up the last gourmet meal yet (unlikely) that you may begin the process all over again on the floor with those pieces whose fate was to rest on the tile. Though if it is on the ground...it's most likely you will just pick it up, put it in your mouth and not give it a second thought..like that dried up fly you came across two seconds ago.


Denver: 14 hours and three diapers.
Left Mexico on a bright sunny afternoon. 6 p.m. we're on a plane to Denver. Nathan is rowdy and bouncing all over me, the seat, the floor and wherever his little body will wedge. I'm ticked at the lady behind me, who also just left Mexico but it hacking and coughing all over, is bullying her grown daughter, and has one of the nastiest attitudes I've ever heard. Well, I'm getting tired of overhearing her, I'm getting tired of trying to hold on to an energenic baby and mostly I'm thinking, hasn't it been three hours yet. Captain comes on, indeed there is a headwind slowing us down. It'll be another 50 minutes. 50 minutes more of grouchy woman and wiggly baby. Then we start to desend Yeah! Then we start to ascend. What? We're going up to make another pass, because there's still an aircraft on the runway. So we'll really have to hurry and get through Denver customs.
So we land. And we are the first off the plane! For some reason my stroller is the LAST off the plane. (Usually the first thing to come off) So now were are behind EVERYONE running to the elevators getting to customs. Obviously we are not the only flight. And we have 45 minutes until our connection leaves. So, most people are really nice and let us cut line to get back into the U.S.A. Then we have to grab our baggage and run to get it rechecked. Done. Then we have to run to the next elevator to get to the level that will take us back through security. 8 minutes to take off. We fly through security go down the next elevator that will take us to the train that will take us to concourse A. We run through the doors. Then we have to run all the way down to the VERY end of concorse A. And get on the elevator down to the 'great lakes' flights. Once we're are in the bowles of the airport we have to run AGAIN to the very very end of the building. Running. Running, breathless, panting sweating, but at least I have a very delighted baby.
We get to the desk to hear that we just missed the flight, they just shut the doors. "Call the captain, we're RIGHT HERE!" "No, he won't open the doors once they are closed." "BUT WE'RE RIGHT HERE, IT'LL TAKE THIRTY SECONDS" "Um, he just tuned on the engines. There's no way he'll shut it down." "THERE'S ME AND A LITTLE BABY WHO NEED TO GET HOME! JUST CALL HIM" "Sorry, we can't do that." So we watched our plane leave, knowing there were no more than 17 people on the plane who wouldn't care if it took ten more minutes to get a woman and her little one on a plane that would fly for one hour and 5 minutes to get home.
SOOOOOOOOOO Instead we had to talk to the lame great lakes people, who would offer us 45% off of a hotel for the night, but suggested we rebook with Frontier instead. Therefore go back upstairs, and rebook with frontier (Who are VERY NICE) who give us a hotel room for the night and $42 in food credit vouchers. Then we have to find our way back on the train to the baggage claim, find a wall of phones, call our hotel and get the directions for the the shuttle. We leave the airport, wait out in the cold for a shuttle, drive 25 mintues into town to our hotel, get checked in behind everyone else on the shuttle (because people don't notice a tired lady and her little one in a STROLLER) and then go to the bar for dinner, as that's the only thing open. The bar menu is VERY limited, we end up with french fries and mozz sticks..oh and apple juice. By the time we are IN our room and ready for bed it is 11:45 p.m. We would have been home already.
The baby conks right out and sleeps peacefully. I (being hopped up on cola products, adreniline, anger, apathy, anxiety and whatever else, sleep VERY LITTLE throught the night looking at the clock every half hour until 4:30 a.m. The baby wakes up promply at 6 and is ready to go. There is no trying to rest. So we get up wash our faces, change his diaper, and get ready to find the shuttle back to the Denver International. Did I mention I only have ONE diaper left at this point?
Anyhow, we arrive at the airport, go back through security, get back on the train, get back to concourse A, get some breakfast, get checked into our gate (which is still at the very end of the very end of the bottom of the airport) and then we walk for a whole hour until the flight leave. We find a nice lady who loans us a diaper. The baby sleeps from Take-off to landing. We make it home. The baby went to bed last night at 6:30 p.m. and slept until 8:30 the next morning. I got about two hours less than that.
p.s. Mexico was WONDERFUL!

January 30, 2008 - Wednesday
Sick Kids and Mommas
Had a fun week. Brooke came, we were supposed to go to Bear Lake with T&A and stay at their time share, but the baby was sick. Again. From Croup, to Infuenza to an ear infection in the last three weeks. The Dr. said the good news was that there wasn't too much more he could catch. How comforting. I got over the flu myself and continue to be a momma to a sick little boy.
Brooke and I made 51 Quart sized jars of cookie mix (sand art chocolate chip cookie mix) and put decrotive cloth on them and tied homemade laminated labels with ribbon around the tops. They are for Amy's Baby shower. And they turned out so darn cute!!
Baby, Grandpa and I leave for Mexico on Saturday. I'm excited and nervous. But we're stocked up on swimming diapers and ear drops.
So I just watched an animated c-section operation on BabyCenter.Com, meant to inform and educate. And, um I can't believe I went through one of those. I was physically sick in my chair watching a CARTOON procedure of what happened to me. I'm a sissy. I was seriously faint. So if you need a real good scare, go check it out! I do NOT think I'll be watching one ever ever ever again, even though any other children I bear in the state of WY will be by C-section. After comparing videos of both types of birth, I'm a HUGE proponent of natural birth. I'm still queezy.


Today’s journal and the PILES
So, I went on a bike ride today. That was wierd. Last time I rode a bike: College Times...to impress the boyfriend (who I later married...) But todays bike ride does post a landmark: Baby’s First Bike Ride. He rode in the bike trailer behind Shane.(Loved it! Giggled and screeched with joy.) Also went on a long walk today to the park where the midget played (mostly in the brown leaves from last fall.) And I washed almost 40 terra cotta flower pots.(Using them for church activity.) And cooked a chicken. Busy day for me...but there is something I have been putting off.
Let me tell you a little something about laundry. I don’t mind doing it, but damn, you’re twisting arms to get me to fold it and put it away. Don’t even mention Ironing. Do they still even do that anymore? Isn’t this a lost art like wearing things made from leaves or eating wild meat that hangs in the cellar? Anyway about the laundry...I have PILES of clean Laundry on my bedroom chair, in a basket in the laundry room and upstairs in a baby bassinet. Does anyone have a good solution to my laundry problem. Would it help if I had room in my drawers and closets? Let’s go back a step...I just inherited bags and bags and bags of clothing from my maternal parental unit. Nice clothing / active wear / and casual stuff. And, like putting laundry away, I also dislike trying on bags and bags and bags of laundry to see what I might keep and what I might not. So I also have heaps of bagged laundry. AHGHRHG! I guess I’m going to have to deal with it sooner or later. But here comes the other problem. Once I sort out what I’m going to keep, I’m also going to have to sort out those items that already are filling the overfull closet and drawers......FORCING me to try on almost EVERY ITEM I OWN! This sort of sucks. I’m worn out thinking about it. I worn out looking at it. I’m worn out that it isn’t done already. I think I’m going to adopt a uniform. One for active, one for nice dress up days and one for casual. I will buy five of each style, thus making any of this trying on gunk obsolete.
Anyhow...I needed to vent (could you tell?) and relate that the above information will still not have any real attention paid to it, until I return from Salt Lake and the birth of my niece. I will just have to pack by digging through the piles.

The Piles: Continued.
Today, it took me roughly six hours to deal with the fore-mentioned piles. (For pre-story, read above... Let's just say that the thrift store is receiving a generous donation tomorrow, a whole car load. Which reminds me: I'm no longer driving the beautiful blue Dodge Durango. I'm now driving a white 03 Camry with 50K miles. The snow is gone, so I suppose I don't need the 4 wheel drive. Plus cars can get into ANY parking space. That part IS awesome. And it's good on gas…blah blah blah. (I might miss the Durango a little.) Back to the point; my closets are in amazing order. From shoes, gloves, hats, boots…all the way to work out wear and Sunday best, I can now navigate my items with just a glance.

Ha Ha, as I'm composing this particular blog, my husband has just been asked to speak in Church next Sunday. Might I remind you that next Sunday is Mother's Day? (Again, see a long way below to read about the misfortunate call that lead me to speak last Father's Day.)

I have some cakes coming up this month and next. I also have a very cool trip coming up at the end of the month which I'm very excited about, as I should be seeing my Robling somewhere in my week of Canadian bliss.

I just wanted to mention, I'm one of the 80 people out of 109,450 that plays Puzzle Express on MSN games. Do we have anything in common? I can't get past level eight. Yep, I'm a geek. If my concentration seems distorted, this is why.

I did spend some quality time with my niece last week. She's a fantastic little infant with lots of dark hair, dark skin and dark eyes. In fact, if she got lost on the Reservation, she'd be gone for good. You'd have a hard time picking her out. Which is strange, because neither of her parents are native…Anyway, both parents are doing great and trying to adjust to struggles of infant rhythm. (Eat, sleep, poop, and repeat) I've rambled long enough, I'm tired. I'm going to bed, next to my spotless closet.


I go walking, after breakfast, in the sunlight:
And as I'm walking, after breakfast, in the sunlight, sometimes nature calls. And she knocks with a vengence while I'm on the outskirts of Lander, where there are NO public facilities available...or so I thought. Today, as I was out enjoying the pastures, cows and horses along a road, mother nature whispered rather harshly that I should have thought about her before leaving civilization for a animal science lesson with my son. Our regular walk involves strolling about five miles, and as I'm walking I'm calculating. I'm calculating how much further I can go, without going. Then I'm calculating how many people I know within that vicinity. After which, I'm calculating which of those are going to feel less embarrased about the situation I'm in. Well therein lies the dilemma. I can make it to no houses that within I wouldn't feel completly idiodic. So, now as I'm walking, in more pain, I'm looking into the strangers houses and even more excitedly, I'm looking at the two empty gravel and cement lots that are near the river. Where can I hide myself on these empty lots? Between those cars, nope that house would see me, behind that building...no that won't work either. I have resigned myself at this point to just letting my bladder explode ...or to wave down a passing car. Then, I see it!!! Right by the bridge, on the bank of the river drop off: An oasis in beige idustrial plastic! A sanitation station! A porta potty! Almost invisible behind the tree cover and placed in only a place a very desparate woman would see it! There were angels looking after me today. Supplied with both super-strengh scent protection and low grade paper, the teeny tiny earth toned box couldn't have been a more welcome sight! Lander walkers be informed! As you go up the hill, the first bridge, well before the llama farm is where you can find relief.