"Risky Reads"

Have you read the top 5 "risky reads" according to msnbc? I'm seriously considering giving back my master's degree in English because I haven't read two of them, although I will say that one of them is on my to-read list (I just haven't forked over the money to get it for my Kindle).

1. Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
2. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
3. Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
4. The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie
5. Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller

If you're interested in checking out the article and reading a brief description of each book, here's the link.
http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/44699167/ns/today-books/t/risky-reads-books-have-been-banned?gt1=43001
If you want to guess which book is on my to-read list, leave me a comment and challenge me to just buy it for goodness sake!
And if you've read Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret and it exhausted you at the age of 11 (talk about a disappointing banned read), come on over for a big high-five.
Happy reading!

Toothless to Two-Toothed

Oh my word, was Sunday the last day that I posted? I've lived a lot of sleepless life since then. In a word... teething. No, not me. Milo. Bless his poor little two-toothed mouth, he's had a rough go of it.
Anyway, here's my little man looking, well, more like a boy and less like a baby.

I know, I know. You've never seen a cuter baby, right? I feel exactly the same way!

Uh-oh

And so it begins. Guess what I found when I went to pick up Milo from his nap today?

Oh yes. He figured out how to stand himself up. And so it begins.

likemelikemelikemelikemelikeme

Well, I'm starting a new venture. You know I've been working on headbands and whatnot (thus my sporadic posts the last few weeks). Well, I'm starting a little bid-ness (that's business, my friends) called RubiLu. It's basically fabric flowers, headbands, cutesy things...
Anyway, even though I've sworn off Facebook, I can't ignore its value in terms of advertisement. So I've started a RubiLu page, and would you pretty please go on and like me. Please?

No More Bananas (pt.1)

Milo usually loves bananas, but the last few days he's been feeling a little off... Lucky for him, Nate likes to harass him anyway and catch it on video. We're just creating memories, people.

Here and there

Milo crawling is a normal sight in our house now. It's even more fun when Nate crawls along with him...

A Triumphant Twelve

Ahhh, yesterday's run. What a momentous occasion in my mind.
I awoke with eager anticipation - a 12-mile run, something I haven't done in at least 2 years. I was pumped (literally - haha), stretched, and ready to go. I had dropped my water and packed my gu (espresso luv flavor compliments of Michael) and started out the run at the front of the pack. Oh, it was glorious. 6:00 a.m. had never felt like such a treat, even with the low clouds and high humidity, and everything was beautiful until...
We were running down the college cut-off road and noticed a figure looming in the ditch across the road. Someone called out, "Is that...?" Oh yes, it was. It was across the street and still far too close for comfort. It was a skunk, tail high and proud, looking like it was about to cross over to us for a little fun. Suddenly a car sped by and backed the little guy up, and at that point, we were past him, calling out to the people behind us to look out.
"Oh man, that totally freaked me out. Can you believe that was a... Wait a minute, what is that?"
And this time it was in the ditch, right next to me. Oh yes, another skunk. Just waiting to spray me.
Then it happened. My legs took off almost without me, I was sprinting like I've never sprinted before, and all the while I was warning everyone like this: "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!"
(Good to know that in a crisis, I will run off and leave everyone behind, screaming like a maniac)
Chad was right behind me and said that when the skunk heard me "Eeeeeeeee," he took off back into the woods. Guess I was a little bit much for him. Serves him right, though. What self-respecting skunk is out and about trying to spray innocent runners at 6:00 in the morning?

Whew. That was just the first mile or two. The rest was seemingly uneventful, until mile 9 or 10 when the heavens opened up and poured on us. I mean, I was drenched, my shoes were squidgy, and I was in the worst possible running outfit for this situation. White running tank, light blue running shorts... I had apparently come ready to win the wet t-shirt contest. And as I ran, soggy and dripping, I happened to look down and saw the most horrifying thing through my white shirt - my own belly button. Oh yes, I was that person. The water-logged exerciser with the shirt that just won't stay out of her own slightly rounder than desired belly button. How many times have I gagged over that very same person? I got exactly what I deserved, and it didn't feel good. It's a good thing I didn't notice until we got back that you could also see the freckles on my legs through my now-transparent shorts, and from behind, a nice big shot of my black and white striped undies (and honestly, who knows what else?).

Needless to say, when I triumphantly finished my 12 miles, I promptly stuck a water bottle under my shirt to hide my belly button and stood sheepishly against my car. Guess I'll think twice before I get dressed next time, right?

So that was my twelve. Here's hoping my own private half marathon is a little less eventful next week.

Peter Pan Room

Squastastic

Oh, we're loving some butternut squash around this house. Or more aptly put, Milo is loving some squash and we're loving feeding it to him.
I'll be honest, though. I have a secret motive for giving him squash, and that's the awesome names I can come up with for his meal.
Take lunch, for example. Squash + avodaco = a delicious meal of squasicado (no h in squash so it's said Lily-style).
Or dinner. Squash + peas = Squeas.
It's the little things, kids.

He speaks!

Busy Bee Day

By 6:00 am today, I had already fed Milo, ran 6 miles, and consumed two bottles of water.
By 7:15, I was ready for a nap.
But there's absolutely no time for that! I'm a busy bee today, working on making Milo's food and sewing headband after headband after headband... Look out for some pictures coming soon. I've got an order for 25 right now that's keeping me pretty busy, but after that, I'll get to play with my new fall fabrics.
So that's my life today.
What are you up to?

Milo Crawls

Ahhhh, Texas

So, I've got a few updates. For one thing, we finally got to eat some of the bounty of my little summer garden. The drought has been wretched, and most people haven't gotten anything at all. With my patience, watering, and loving touch, here's what we enjoyed on sandwiches this weekend.

 No, I wasn't growing mini-peppers (I included Nate's sunglasses in the photo so you could truly see the size of this little guy.). It's just that this lone, tiny red pepper is all my exhausted plants could manage. I will tell you this, though - it was the most delectable pepper I've ever had.

Second, Milo just decided to take off crawling last week, and now I can't seem to stop him. He earned his independence, dang it, and he's going to use it! Now I have to chase him around every second that he's not napping (which isn't often, friends), and I keep finding him hiding under the chairs, the piano, the end table... It's pretty adorable, especially since he thinks he's so sneaky...

Slightly blurry shot that I absolutely had to include because he looks so pleased with himself.

He didn't stay there long before he had to get back on the move.

Yes, my child is wearing just a diaper. No, we weren't in public or even with anyone else, and yes we live in Texas where it's still 100 degrees (No joke, the other day I remarked, "Oh, only 96 today? We must be getting a cold front!" What has happened to me?), so if my babyson wants to wear just a diaper then I'm going to let him! Within reason... Within the confines of our own home...

Finally, on a sad note, I've started re-hating the outdoors in Texas. I've tried and tried to make a place in my heart for the prickly, burned-out grass, the assorted creatures, the blazing sunshine, but yesterday something truly horrid happened. I took Milo outside to play in tubs of water (a kiddie pool might be in order) for some afternoon fun, and I was squatting (not even sitting, mind you, because I don't like to take my life in my hands like that) in the grass beside him. I noticed a few ants crawl across my foot, and even one on my arm, but I calmly moved and thought I was home free.

Until it happened...
An ant bite...
On my, ahem...
(Trying to be discreet here...)
Lady part...

Oh heck, we're in Texas, let's just say it. A fire ant bit my hoo-ha, and there's nothing comfortable about that! I snatched Milo up and ran into the house, depositing him in the pack and play on the way by. Surely that couldn't be what had happened, right? Surely when I got to the bathroom I could verify that something else had happened (although what better alternative I was looking for, I'm not sure). But alas, that nasty ant really did it. Something so dreadful, so embarrassing, so painful and itchy at the same time could only happen to me.

I texted Nate and his reply was, "Oh my word, were you wearing underwear?"
OF COURSE I was wearing underwear (and shorts, too). What kind of woman would take her small child outside to play wearing no underwear? (and if you are that kind of woman, I mean, how lovely for a woman to take her small child outside to play wearing no underwear).

And so, ladies and gentlemen, I truly, truly, with my whole heart truly hate the outdoors in Texas, where it's still 100 degrees in the middle of September and fire ants have no respect for a woman's privacy.

A few good editors

I've been meaning to post this picture that Ann sent me recently - an excerpt from one of her accounting textbooks. She sent it to me with the email title, "The world still needs a few good editors," and made sure to circle what I was supposed to see...
For some reason I can't make this photo be right-side up, but it was important that you see it anyway, so here you go.

Now, I'm assuming that no accountant deals with the pubic interest, and that this poor author was just simply under-edited. Or perhaps Ann and I are both sadly mistaken and she has yet to truly learn the ins and outs of her chosen profession. And if that's the case, let's hope said accountant would be over-compensated for his time. 

Naptime



How crazy am I? I risked waking this sweet baby up just to get a few photos...

We've been having a rough week with bedtime, naptime, sleeping in general... And when I say we, I mean Milo, which means I'm up when he is. Catch my drift? Anyway, I know I mentioned yesterday how he learned to sit up in his crib. He did it in the middle of the night, too, preventing him from crying himself back to sleep, and by this morning I was exhausted. Today at naptime I was determined that he was going to go to sleep, no matter what. Well, he figured out how to go to sleep sitting up after all. 

He was even more upright five minutes before this, but I was too chicken to try to take a picture with the flash.

But seriously, if you were me, could you have resisted this?

Short on words

Hmmm. I've found myself as of late with very little to say. Why is that? Could it be that I've been so franticly busy? That I've been thinking about running and sore knees and ten mile long routes (completed yesterday, thank you very much)? Or that I've been pondering money and how to raise some and how many headbands I can make in a two-week period? Or maybe it's that I've been getting less and less sleep and I can't quite figure out why...

Or perhaps it's that I lost someone really special to me, and I haven't quite figured out the words to describe this strange sick ache in my tummy and the tightening in my chest when I think about it. It seems like the last few years have brought a lot of loss, and just when I think I've dealt with one person missing, another follows suit. I'm a grown-up, but I can't seem to figure out how to act like one in these situations. So I'm sure you'll get another post another day all about it when I figure this one out, but right now I just can't.

Anyway, that's all I've got, but I thought I'd better at least check in, as I haven't written since last week (and the duct is all better, thank you very much).

I will leave you with this. Milo has been doing amazingly well at sitting up by himself. So well, in fact, that when it was silent in his room for naptime, followed by a "bang bang," I knew exactly what was going on, but I had to check just to be sure. Oh yes, that little munchkin had sat himself up in bed and was banging against the side of the crib and half climbing up it, trying to reach his mobile... He turned around and looked at me sheepishly and then just grinned, like, "Well, can you blame me?" Guess what's coming down right after naptime this afternoon? But thank goodness for a little man who always makes me smile, even in the midst of a little mischief.

Hope your Labor Day weekend was bliss.

The perils of lactation

I never knew that when I got pregnant, all modesty and inhibition would go out the window...
Well, not all of it. Because I'm definitely not running around in crop tops or mini-skirts (Lord, that would be a sight). But once upon a time, I used to get embarrassed really easily. And I never talked about my body in any form or fashion. And I would blush even thinking about going to the doctor.

Those days are gone, friends. Now we have family conversations about my "girls," I am a firm advocate for breast feeding (and will answer any and all questions on it), and I almost never blush when Nate tells just about everyone, with total pride, my bra size (thanks, baby).

And today I showed a total stranger my boobs.

Now, don't get me wrong. I haven't turned into a creepy flasher or anything. But something I've learned as a mom is that if something is wrong with me that could in any way impede Milo's eating, sleeping, or general well-being, I would do anything to make it right. And I had this little problem with a blocked milk duct that was turning into a big deal in my mind.

And so, friends, I now have a lactation consultant. Don't I sound special and important? It basically means that I went to a stranger, showed her my boobs, and asked her to fix them. And she didn't look at me like I was crazy, or treat me like my questions were silly. In fact, I felt downright comfortable with her, blue exam gloves and all. Now I'm on the mend and thinking to myself, "Did I really just do that?"

Yes, I really did.