I Got, Got, Got, Got No Time. No no no no no no no time.

I know--that's a hideous song! Well, I hate it, anyway.

I've been wanting to blog, but as you've probably surmised. . . .

I've been hella busy at home, what with the kiddies and the taking up my husband's newby househusband slack. He hasn't quite worked out how to care for the kids and get some chores done, too. I, of course, am a master. Most days. Plus, now he's in a different state for just over a week, leaving me to fend for the homestead.

And I've been hella busy at work, too. The three projects that I had to leave before maternity leave were, surprise!, waiting for me upon my return. I'm feeling this pressure from my boss--like he's watching my every move or something. I'm feeling very self-conscious. I have to pump breastmilk twice a day (three times, one day) so I feel bad about taking our normal-length lunches and I'm "never" in my office. Today I went out for an hour and he was like "Oh, There you are" when he popped his head around the corner. And that's the second time he's said that in the 8 days that I've been back! Plus, I HAD to go through my emails when I came back--all 900 of them--just to have room in my mailbox to send emails, so the volume of my work is low. Now he wants me to do in three days what should take at least 5 or 6, so I'm a little stressed. AND I took home work the other night and spent 3 hours working on it--a thankless task in every way. Oy vei! Whatever that means.

So here it is, my fabulous excuses excuses post. I have another one well in the works (Burb), but it will take some serious editing before it's presentable. And I have things to write about our newest family member, too! I'll get right on that--as soon as I finish this work day, go home, and try to figure out why Stevie hid in the laundry room right as the bus pulled up, missing it, and forcing the babysitter to take him to a school she has never been to before and wasn't sure where it was and the baby was in a car seat albeit one without a base so it wasn't properly secured and Stevie almost refused to allow a "stranger" to take him to school and there will be a different stranger babysitter tomorrow. . . . Oi vey.

Thank Viggo I remembered to buy that bottle of Cook's Extra Dry!

Tales from the Crib

Gee, I've missed my blog, and all of the other blogs, too. Whilst on maternity leave, I did not visit the online Valhalla, or read even one email. Hooray!

Now that I'm back at work, I'll have plenty of time to catch up. Ha! I tried to write a blog entry at home, but within 2 milliseconds of typing the first word the baby woke up and Stevers was all up in my face asking a LOT of questions. Here's what I managed to write in the last 6 weeks:

Tales from the Crib: Part 1—Hello God, It’s Me, Lulu

January 6, 2006
This is the first time I’ve opened this computer since I left work on December 6, 2005. Wow! A full month! I just realized that.

Wanna know why I haven’t written?

1. Lack of interest followed by too much to say and the fear of the time it will take to say it.

2. Getting computer AND cord together at the same time seemed too daunting.

3. No internet access. This means that to publish my tomes I would have to either come into the office or go to my mom’s and try to figure out the whole “remote access” thing. Mmmm, I love computers!

4. I knew that as soon as I sat down to write, what just happened would happen: Marky Mark would awake from a nice, longish snooze and want to eat—which requires both blogging hands, and Stevie would zoom in from his previous position and sit down next to me, asking me if he could “write a poem” when I was done, and then proceed to ask questions and make comments every 2 seconds—“what are you writing?” “are you doing numbers now?” “Mommy, I don’t even know how you make all capital letters!” “Boy you sure messed up a lot on that sentence!” “What does that spell?”

Tales from the Crib, Part 2—My Boobs Hurt

Breastfeeding is a wonderful thing, unless you’re a nipple. Or possess a pair of nipples. A pair of nipples that are experiencing “nipple trauma” from having a child with perhaps a tad of “nipple confusion” gnawing on them all damn day.

Tales from the Crib, Part 3—We Paid Off Our Land!

Of course, my intention was not unlike sourdough bread lovers--to make a "start" and keep cookin' from those starts. It just didn't happen, and I don't appreciate being pushed!

Anyway, there's lots to say and I'll say a good amount of it here pretty soon. Aloha! I'm actually quite pleased to be back. The California people sent me booze and chocolate for Christmas! It was just sitting here in my office! Man, that is PHAT!