The Sick

Adenovirus is pretty much gone. From the baby. Now it's mine, all mine.

Two nights ago, he slept and slept. From 9:30 to 5:30, which is pretty good for him. Last night, not so much. So, not so much for me, either.

Scratch that. It's crap. I don't really have anything to say. I am just waiting for the second wash on the diapers to be done, so I can put them into the drier and go to bed for the twenty minutes we will have before he wakes up whining for no reason. It's a good thing he's such a (mostly) charming baby when he's awake (for the day).

Pete keeps looking for a formula. The one thing we are missing that will make him sleep through the night, every night.

I am looking for the same thing, too; it's just for me.

Thing is, there is no one thing. There's not even a combination of things. We just think we should be able to fix it by making it perfect, but we can't. I could say, well, the night he slept through (the only night since he came back from his vacation with Grandma and Gran), we had the air conditioning on. But, there are so many variables, it's impossible for us to say if there's a key (there isn't). We only have one baby, not many; if we had many (and a grant. And credentials), we could set up some kind of study, but it's hard enough for my workplace to come up with grants, let alone my little family.

The washer is singing. Time to transfer and go to bed.

For now.

There's a Stain on my Notebook

Cold press coffee. I am just going to have to find out for myself what all the fuss is about. I hear it tastes like coffee smells, which seems a near impossibility to me, as if that were true, grown people would be weeping in the streets, and every single human would have one of these low-tech machines.

I'm a sucker for a better brew, though, so I got it started this morning. I didn't understand how it works, and I am still a bit skeptical, but at least I get the process now. I bought some "cold press" coffee blend from Peace Coffee and ground up almost a pound of it in my home grinder (first lesson: grind it at the co-op). The thing takes 9 cups of water and a pound of coffee, added alternately and not stirred. It's really hard to resist stirring. I wanted to stir it. I still want to stir it. It's sitting on my stove at home, and I can't get over the belief that it needs to be stirred.

2 cups water, half the coffee, more water water poured slowly over the grounds, rest of coffee, let sit 5 minutes, rest of water, tap with spoon. At the end, it looks like this, and here it will sit brewing for 12 hours. When that's done, you take out the little stopper that is plugging the bottom of the brew canister, and it filters into the decanter. What you are left with is 6 cups of coffee concentrate to which you add hot or cold water and a whole lot of coffee grounds for the compost heap. The nice thing about this could be that the coffee is brewed and ready, all we have to do is plug in and turn on the electric kettle in the morning. Or I can send it to work with daddywhumpus to eliminate the afternoon coffee shop spending.

And I WILL NOT stir it.

Weather Report

Walking outside today was like being hugged by a locker room, after a senior faculty shirts/skins game.

Now, it's raining and raining, with thunderbolts and lightening (very very frightening... not really), we have a severe thunderstorm warning and a tornado watch. Two Saturdays ago, Finn and I spent an hour in the basement during a worse weather situation, and he must have gotten a kick out of it because he and Pete are in the basement right now. Pete mentioned that it was a possibility, and Finn decided it was what needed to happen. I think I can hear him asking for Nemo and Wall-E.

Dear Target,

What's $2183.70 to a big company like you, beloved by millions of shoppers throughout the land, with sales of $63.4 billion during 2009? Not much, but it's what my little family of three spent at your stores in 2009 and 2010, up to now. I know you don't need me anymore. After all, your 2009 results "reflect  the strongest retail  segment profit in [your] history".

It's been grand, or, dare I say "Super", but I think it's time we see other people. You see, we don't agree about a few fundamental things, and it's standing in the way of this relationship going any further.

You think it's OK to deny women the right to choose their reproductive and sexual destiny, even as you partner with the Minnesota League of Women Voters.

You think it's just dandy to keep certain people from marrying the ones they love, even though you say you are trying to "foster an inclusive culture."

You believe it's a good idea to fund private schools at the expense of public schools, and furthermore, that the federal government should have no say in public education, even as you work to improve school libraries.

You think it should be harder for Americans to vote, even as you advocate voter education, and you believe Arizona's new immigration law is a good idea, even though you say "diversity is a core value throughout every area of [your] company."

You are proud of your NRA endorsement, even as you work with police officers "as trusted partners... to strengthen public safety."

You don't believe in global warming, even though though you say you "know what's good for the environment is good for everyone."

You don't believe in evolution, even though you "play an active role in supporting education."

Or, at least, that's what you are saying to me when you give $150,000 to an organization that is supporting Tom Emmer in the race for Minnesota governor. The above are deeply contradictory statements, and I can't reconcile the politician's beliefs with your company's stated goals, activities, and policies.

Clearly, these are things we can't overcome, "dealbreakers", I think they call them, so I'll be taking my money elsewhere from now on.

I know what you'll say. You'll say that you are non-partisan, you are just looking out for number one, and you will support anyone who you think supports you. You will say that you have given $80,000 to Democrats and $103,500 to Republicans in 2010, so it's pretty much equal.

You say you want to support Minnesotans, and that you love being here. You say you do a lot of good for the country in communities & schools.

But you never loved me. You never cared. And without me and countless other lefties, liberals, and progressives who support you, you are nothing. You can go ahead and support candidates who you say support business, but when those candidates are supporting business over supporting people, those people have less disposable income to spend in your stores.

When those candidates have beliefs that fly in the face of human rights, science, facts, and the common good, I have to draw the line.

Your 2007 Marketing Plan says that 93% of your shoppers are women, their  median age is 41, their median household income is $63 thousand, 45%  have children at home, and 48% have completed college. In that plan, it was advised that you branch out and find new markets, so I release  you. May you be happy in the life that you have chosen.

I can get my tee shirts and baby bubble bath elsewhere.

Love,

kitty

Open Secrets: Target Corp PAC expenditures
Open Secrets: Target Corp PAC Summary
Open Secrets: Center for Responsive Politics
American Public Media PAC*Men
Target: Our Company

Fever Baby

daddywhumpus is home for a couple of hours, and he thinks I should take a nap. I've been up the majority of the last two nights with Fever Baby, and this is Pete's week to be a Rock Star. Thing is, Rock Star's wives have nannies. Not so for most Folk Star's wives.

Its just one of those weeks; a convergence of events. There's a wedding gig and a CD party this weekend, plus a mid-week solo gig, all of which add up to Monday night being the only night without a rehearsal or event, and that's already behind us. babywhumpus woke up with a fever Sunday morning; it was worse yesterday, and then the cough and hoarseness started. I suspected strep, so we stayed home today, and I brought him to the doctor. No strep in the rapid test; she suspects adenovirus, as it's been going around (The other choice was enterovirus, as this is the time of year, but she hasn't been seeing it). Not much we can do about it, just keep treating with ibuprofen and acetaminophen. And be awake all night.

So I should nap. Like I could ever nap in a populated house, in the middle of the day, in as short a space of time as two hours, when there is shit to be done. If Pete is home and minding the boy, then I'll finish up the laundry and do the dishes. It's either that or lay in bed, thinking about the laundry and the dishes while I listen to them eating cereal in the kitchen.

Note to Self

And by "Self", I mean "Daddy":

Do not say "penis face" in the presence of your toddler. Even if you think he is not listening.

While it may be cute to hear your son saying "penis face" as clear as a bell, at least twice, it is not something we need to explain to day care or to other parents.

The Beautiful Moments

"Mama, sit."

Finn was looking up at me, smiling and pointing down into the cool water filling up the nine dollar inflatable pool. We were standing in it, he in his red tee shirt with the whales, and me in the clothes I had worn to work. After an oppressive 90 degree day complete with the mugginess you usually only find on the east coast in August, a little water time seemed like a good idea.

I looked down at him as I held the hose that was slowly filling up the pool. "No, no, sweetie. I have to go inside and put on my swimsuit. Then I can sit down." Then I thought, "Why? This seems like one of those times for you to let go of all your expectations, not worry about the things that need to be done, and enjoy your child."

So I sat. He laughed. We splashed each other. We stood, jumped, sat, stood again, walked in circles, splashed, and laughed some more. Finn caught sight of a beautiful monarch butterfly, swooping amongst the lavender milkweed, bergamot, hyssop, and oregano, and he watched it, standing still in the water until it was out of sight. Bees bumbled. By the time Pete rode into the driveway, we were soaked, and my eyes were smeared with the remains of the day's makeup. He took over the merriment, and I went inside to dry off and cook dinner.

This morning, right after Finn woke up, I took him outside to the porch to say good morning to daddy. The boy was whining about wanting pillow time, but I distracted him with neck snorgles and nommy sounds, and he laughed until he snorted. Then we had a family hug, swaying in the morning light.