Wednesday Tidbits

I'm too tired to come up with something cohesive. Thus:

• I was told on Sunday that the MOPS coordinator forbade anyone on steering from contacting me about why I left. So while I had just been thinking it was odd that no one had reached out, turns out that was done on purpose. So glad to be rid of that group, but honestly, what are we, twelve?
• Our patio appears to be complete. Hurrah! It looks incredible (maybe I'll be motivated to go and take a picture to share with you at some point). I think it needs to cure for a few days and then get sealed before we can use it. I should check the contract, they spelled it out pretty nicely. That said, I'm looking forward to getting my doggies back. (They've been staying with my folks during the final stages of said patio install.)
• Now I just need to talk Tim into a fire pit. I really think sitting out on the patio by the fire would be a little slice of heaven. He wants to screen it in. I'm not 100% sold on that yet, but also not terribly opposed. We'll see what happens.
• I've gotten through P reshelved in the library (fiction - haven't touched non fiction as yet). I've noticed that L, M and R are my most common authors. I wonder if that has to do with the frequency of those letters - seems to me those are some of the more common letters. Regardless, I have 3 shelves of Ms and it's looking like I may end up with a whole bookcase of Rs. (Of course, those Ms are pretty much two authors: McCaffrey and Montgomery. And most of the Rs are Nora Roberts/JD Robb...so does that really count?)
• I realized as I was shelving the Cs that I've misplaced my copy of The Hunger Games and Catching Fire. Now I may end up having to rebuy them on kindle. On the one hand, fewer dead tree books is starting to be a nice thing. On the other hand, I hate rebuying things I already own. (Though I suppose one could argue that if you can't find it, you may not actually own it any longer.)
• I have successfully completed NaNoWriMo, though I didn't submit my stuff for verification, so I'm not going to get a neat little sticker for my blog. It wasn't so much about the sticker as it was just making myself actually finish something. (After all, I didn't start something new, I just added 50K to something I had already been working on.) I'm not quite finished, but the story is definitely winding down. It feels kind of nice.
• Seems to me there was more I intended to add here, but it's completely vanished at this point.

Operation Turn the House Upside Down: Phase One

This weekend, since Tim was off for four days of joy and glory, we decided that we'd start tackling the whole rearrange the entire (well not quite the entire, we're not leaving the master bedroom) upstairs of the house. When we asked the kiddo what color he wanted his new room to be, he said pink. I laughed. Tim tried very hard not to cry. I asked if he liked the red that it currently is and he said yes, so I asked if we could just leave it and he is in heaven. Because red is dark pink round these parts. Scratch one room of painting off my list. Woohoo!

This then made step one box up the books somehow and move the book cases. Tim had the brilliant thought that, as we traditionally spend the Friday after Thanksgiving decking our halls, we could just use the tubs that would otherwise be holding Christmas decor to hold the books. I quietly thought to myself that there was no way we had that many tubs, but it was a good start. So, Saturday morning found me up in the library pulling books off of shelves.

Step one a, though, was to weed through the books and see if there were any that needed to be on their way. I spoke firmly to myself about how books were like clothes and if they hadn't been re-read in a year, then it was time for them to go. And some of the decisions were very easy. Others were a little like playing lifeboat with a room full of good friends. I mean, sure, I hadn't cracked the cover in more than a year (sometimes more than two or three), but just holding the book I got a 60-second memory flash of the story that I so enjoyed and the people who live within those beautiful sheets of paper and then there was the twinge. Part guilt (how could I not have read this recently?), part decluttering drill sergeant (get rid of the books - you're out of shelf space!), part primal cry of pain (because really, I *need* books in my house like other people need oxygen.)

As it was, the six available tubs (you know the 25ish gallon ones, right?) held exactly one and a half book cases full of books. And that's after weeding out one and a half carry on suitcases full of books (I didn't want to use tubs to hold get rid of books, but they needed to go somewhere and we won't need the suitcases for a while, so...there you are.) Tim found more things to hold books - various boxes and so forth, but ultimately we still ended up with teetering stacks of books leaning tenaciously against one another on the floor of what will be the library.

Then came the dilemma. See, the library is moving into what was the kiddo's room. The room I worked long and hard to turn into a whimsical sky with clouds and airplanes. Using wallpaper cutouts for said clouds and airplanes. Have I ever mentioned to you how much I detest removing wallpaper? So we were standing in the now library, looking at the walls and the kiddo's bed, trying to figure out how to magically swap all the furniture, and Tim says, "You know...all the decoration basically ends a foot below the ceiling...which is about where the bookcases end, too..." I saw, immediately, where he was going with that and considered how I felt about a sky blue library with a few airplanes popping out from behind the tops of the book shelves.

As I considered, Tim disassembled the kiddo's bed (and oh, Ikea, how I love you. But really, there needs to be a way to disassemble things partially - no more of this all or nothing business.) And we played slide puzzle with furniture - bookcases out and into the hallway (one into the bathroom), reassemble the bed in the new room, slide bookcases this way and that, move the dresser. And so forth.

I have to say, sky blue library is definitely a win. Whimsical airplanes? Total bonus. Except that I need to add some sort of whimsical phrase along the top border as well now...I'm thinking: Dragons, castles, knights and kings, reading stories gives you wings.  (Or something along those cheesy, rhyming lines.) Now I just need to find a good letter stencil. And reshelve all the books, of course. That should only take another year. Or two.

Talking Turkey

As seems to be the case every year, I put off grocery shopping for Thanksgiving until entirely too close to the actual event. I did manage to get out there today (had planned to go yesterday, but the kiddo really needed a nap and by the time he was up, I was feeling under the weather so...we put it off.). I was mightily annoyed to see that Wegmans "fresh" turkeys were clearly frozen. Now, I don't know if they just have their case too cold, or what, but a fresh turkey is not hard as, ahem, ice. Nor does it have frost on the wrapper. So I have a partially fresh, partially frozen turkey finishing up its thaw in my fridge and all I can say is thank goodness I went today, not tomorrow when there would be no hope of it thawing.
I'm skipping the brine this year. I haven't yet found a noticeable difference between brining and basting and, frankly, I'd just as soon baste. It releases more turkey smell into the house. Though saying that, I think I need to buy a new baster because if I recall correctly, I melted my previous one last New Year's Eve. (I baste a lot, you can tell.)

I ended up having to go to two stores anyway, though, because Wegmans was also out of brussel sprouts. This disturbs me on two fronts: One, that there are enough people serving them that they ran out and Two, that I am among them. We're trying them roasted (and shredded, with Parmesan cheese!) I don't hold out high hopes, but, on the other hand, the ones that hung out under the porchetta I made last New Year's were quite tasty. So...we'll see if it's owing to the roasting or being basted by pig fat that made them delicious. I have my own theory.

The rest of the menu is fairly traditional. We'll be having Stove Top, because no matter what stuffing recipe I try, everyone clamors for the stove top. I've given up fighting it, their cornbread stuffing really is about as good as it gets. I bought just under 2 pounds of potatoes to make a small batch of mashed potatoes. The kiddo fell in love with the color of some pre-chopped butternut squash, so we'll be having that, as well. We'll also have kale chips (my dad has been wanting to try these, no idea why) and green beans for the at least two picky eaters who won't touch the sprouts or the kale and should really have some sort of vegetable touch their plate. There will also be cranberry relish. For dessert, we'll have pumpkin pie (bought at Costco because for $5, I can't make it that tasty, and really, theirs is nearly perfect) and home made pecan pie (because I double the pecan to pie ratio, making it a crunchy, nutty bit of yumminess) with homemade whipped cream. I believe Tim's mom is bringing yeast rolls as well.

I've tried to keep the portions smaller this year, so each dish is only getting a single recipe made, regardless of whether it serves 4 or 8 or whatever. There will be 11 of us sitting down, but when I plan for 11 servings of everything, we swim in leftovers until Christmas. So I'm hoping this will cut down on that. One or two days of left overs? Grand. Beyond that? We'll choke it down, but no one is happy about it.

Now I just have to figure out what, if anything, I can do ahead of time.

Overthinking Cars (Or What Happens When Your Child Gets Fixated On A Movie)

So the latest movie that is on anytime I will allow it now is Cars 2. This started out as a welcome relief from the original Cars, which I'm pretty sure I could quote completely backwards. However, Cars 2 has brought up some questions that I'm not sure how to answer. Thankfully these questions have not yet come from the kiddo, but I'm expecting them at any minute.

See, in Cars 2, we travel around the world to various races and we get a chance to see other kinds of cars. The Japanese cars are all petite, for example. And it got me to wondering...in a world where there aren't people, just cars, do you get to decide what you want to be when you grow up or are you what you are based on the body type you have at manufacturing? And how did you get that body type? Do your parents choose? If, for example, Lightning McQueen and Sally go on to get married and have a baby, what will it look like? Will it be a small stock car? A small Porsche? Half and half? What if it doesn't want to be a race car? What if it decides it wants to be a tow truck like Uncle Mater? At the end of college, do cars undergo extensive reconstructive surgery to allow them to participate in their chosen career? Or, if you're born a Porsche, are you just SOL if you decide you want to be a tow truck?

Also...what happened to Doc Hudson? At the start of the movie they talk like he's gone...but how does a car die? And do they bury them or recycle their parts? (Is that similar to organ donation?)

Honestly...this movie needs to go missing sometime very soon.

A Few Photos

For Eric. Because I'm nothing if not willing to seek fame and fortune.

Eric made a comment about his blog t-shirts on Facebook. And I really had intended to purchase said items and get a fun photos with us all wearing them in Alaska. But you know about intentions...so you can figure out how that worked out for me. Still, I decided I really didn't want to let him down, so I present to you...the Sleepy family in Fire Ant gear in Alaska.

Look at that, even Donald and Daisy are fans of Eric's blog! Who knew?

We also found this fashionable creature in Skagaway.

Never let it be said I don't support my fellow bloggers!

My Sister Says It's Been Too Long Since I Posted

And yet, there's very little to say, in all honesty. So...random thoughts as they appear.

• If you're ever tempted to make a day trip out of something that involves air travel and a 3 year old, please stop and immediately book psychiatric counseling instead. 
• That said, our trip that involved air travel last week actually went very well and for all the kiddo was exceedingly tired by the time we were making our last plane change, he did better than we expected on the whole thing, all things being equal.
• Tim's car is now in the shop. The catalytic converter is failing. What this means to me is exactly one hyphenated word: cha-ching.
• I am, essentially, still on track with my NaNoWriMo effort. Provided I get to it today. Which I plan to.
• Though if I'm going to be truthful, I'm already thinking of excuses, the primary of them being that right now my head is pounding fit to lead a band and I can't think that anything I manage to come up with is going to be worth the electrons used to make the letters.
• The last soccer game was on Saturday. Owing to exhaustion from the previous day's trip, we didn't go. I don't think the kiddo even realized he was supposed to have been going. Overall right now, I call this season of soccer a complete bust and have no plans for organized sports in the near future. I think he's a tad too young. This may change with the wind though, if he starts making interested noises again. We'll see what happens.
• Every time I think about what I have to do to get the upstairs ready for a new baby I can see a little flashing red light and hear klaxons blaring in my head. Then I get overwhelmed and go in search of something to take my mind off it.
• It's really good I don't keep chocolate in the house.

On Being the Naughty Neighbors

So a little bit ago we started to think about a stamped concrete patio for under the deck (or the area of our yard I like to call "the mud pit"). We hemmed and hawed a bit, and then got a lovely little windfall of cash, which prompted us to get an estimate and sign a contract.

Upon signing the contract, I put together the little HOA packet of begging for permission to modify my house, raise its property value, make it look nicer, etc. (You know, do something that any responsible homeowner does - improve their property.) I sent it off in the mail and, about two weeks later got a request for more information because, owing to our fence, they were unable to see where the patio was going to be to make a decision.

That, as you might imagine, made me laugh. Because if they can't see where it would go in order to decide that it's ok to go there, then really, what does it matter? No one else will be able to see it either! But anyway, I snapped some photos of the mud and made a scale drawing on the plat (vs. a scale drawing on the grid paper they provide to you as part of the application) and sent it off as an addendum. I've yet to hear anything back from the HOA.

Weather permitting, the concrete people want to start tomorrow.

Here's where I begin to wonder if getting forgiveness isn't going to be easier than securing permission.

I'm hoping that perhaps the postman will bring me a letter from our dear old HOA this afternoon and then I will be able to breathe a little rule-follower's sigh of relief. But if they don't? I'm still gonna let them start tomorrow. There is no reasonable reason for them to deny the application. And as they've pointed out, they're never going to know whether it's there or not.

Living on the edge around here, living on the edge.

I'm Just Here To Make God Chuckle

What is it they say, God laughs while man makes plans. Or something like that? We could go the route of "The best laid plans of mice and men..." but then I start thinking of Steinbeck and the poor little puppy that got loved to death by dear old Lennie and, well, really, who needs to think about dead puppies? After all, we know that dead puppies aren't much fun.

So there was the whole "Hey! The new bed is making progress! And he's not sleeping in our room!" Yeah. That. Well, he's still not sleeping in our room, but he's not really sleeping, either. Last night he didn't feel well, and really that's a free pass, I'll give you that, but it meant we ended up sleeping in the guest room because nothing would do but mommy sleeping with him. And, like I said, sick is  free pass. But I am tired.

Then there's an upcoming trip to meet the birth mother of the baby we're hoping to adopt at the beginning of the year. The attorneys were going to meet with us, but one thing led to another and now the meeting is not at their office but at some yet-to-be-determined location and it's going to be a bit away from the office, which means that it would cost a rather large amount of money to have the attorney still facilitate (and honestly, why did I not become an attorney? I would love to charge people $200/hour for my time. Even if all I'm doing is driving to a meeting. Oh. Plus mileage, of course.) And on the one hand, I'm probably ok with not having the attorney there. But on the other hand I wonder if I'm not too sleep deprived currently to be making smart decisions. And oh yes, Tim has three phone numbers I can use to get a hold of him at work. Except he doesn't answer any of them.

Le sigh.

The whole not meeting at the same place thing has also caused me to question taking the kiddo along, except I'm guessing she will want to meet him, too (I would, were the positions reversed), so I'm thinking maybe we could suggest meeting at a park where there is a playground so that he can run and zip and not destroy something. Provided, of course, that the weather goes along with that. It is fall, after all.

Add to that the fact that I started a new class this week and, for the first time, was planning to have everyone call me Dr. Sleepy (Hey, I earned it, I'm gonna use it at least for a little while) and there are two students who have had me before who have already started things out using my first name. (And really, it's not a big deal, but no one else is going to address me as Dr., so I thought it would be fun.)

Throw in the fact that the dogs are on my very last nerve (and, oh yes, I'm tired) and you have a fairly grumpy person on the other end of this keyboard. Do they even make Calgon anymore?

Sleeping Like a Baby

Daylight savings time used to be a thing of beauty - at last in the fall. I used to revel in that extra hour of languid unconsciousness. But somehow or other, the kiddo has yet to grasp the joy of an extra hour of sleep, and thus it was business as usual, regardless of what the clocks said Sunday morning. Of course, with my kiddo who seems to feel that sleep is really one of those optional activities, the business as usual came on the heels of a night of waking up every couple of hours.

Saturday, after our soccer game, I asked Tim if he wanted to go to Ikea. Now, before you question our sanity regarding Ikea on a Saturday, with his schedule lately, if we're going to go, it's unfortunately going to be on the weekend. With the new baby on the way, the upstairs is getting a fairly major overhaul. The upstairs of our house looks something like this:

This is nowhere near to scale - (and you'll probably have to click to embiggen) - because BR2 is actually the largest bedroom, while BR1 and BR3 are roughly equivalent. Also we do not have a huge hole in the wall of the Master bedroom, nor is it long and super skinny. You get the idea.

Anyway, currently, the kiddo resides in BR3. The original decision to make this the kiddo's room was based solely on the fact that BR1 houses our library and BR2 was set up as the guest room and BR3 was empty save for a few boxes that were easily and quickly moved into one of the other room's closets. At the time, we thought about moving stuff around, but we were working on a 6 week clock and didn't think that was the best use of time. Plus we are lazy.

But now, with a new kiddo on the way, we're thinking that it'd be good for them to each have their own room since we clearly have the space for that to happen. And so we are going to move the kiddo to BR1, combine the library and guest room into BR2, and put the new baby in BR3 as it's already fairly "nursery-ish" (though I did make it big boy-ish as well, if not for the new baby, the kiddo wouldn't be moving.)

In addition, we have been going back and forth about what to do crib-wise. See, I got the kiddo one of those cool 3-in-1 crib thingys, so it went from crib to toddler bed to head/foot board for a double bed. And we had moved him to the double bed in the late spring. Except that it did not, as we had hoped, solve his sleeping issue. If anything, it might have made it slightly worse. And so for the last three months, or thereabout, he has been sleeping on an air mattress in our room. And that works, except for that whole we'd really like to sleep in our room without a child present thing.

So, in discussing with the kiddo about the new baby, he said he'd like to move rooms and give his room to his brother. And Tim mentioned the idea of bunk beds, which got an incredibly positive reaction from the kiddo, and thus we found ourselves at Ikea on a Saturday. (Why is it that I'm hearing the Monty Python-esque yelling of "get on with it!" in my head?)

Long story short, while I had been on a fact finding mission, Tim and the kiddo fell in love with the Kura. And while I was content to wait a bit, Tim was gung ho, the kiddo was asking if it would be set up soon enough for him to nap in it (a very positive sign), and we loaded one up (along with several impulse items, which we seem to be unable to resist - including the Klappar Haj. Because honestly, what boy doesn't need a shark that's bigger than him?)

Saturday night, we set the kiddo up in his new bed...and it was a disaster. He was up, I don't know, nine times before we even made it to bed? And then another 4 times after we did get to bed (at around midnight). I was having trouble sleeping anyway, and after the last one at 4:30 I just gave up and went downstairs and felt sorry for myself because I'd really hoped that the new bed was finally going to fix things. And also I had indulged the delusion about the extra hour of sleep even if I knew better.

Last night did better, I'm happy to say. He slept from the time we put him down til just before 5, and Tim was getting up anyway at that point so could easily get him resettled. I'd like to say I went back to sleep, but not so much. Still, it's an improvement...fingers crossed that the trend continues. Of course, I'm sure the new baby will throw everything off again, but we could get 3 months of good sleep in the mean time, and that sounds pretty perfect to me.

The Goose is Getting Fat

November always seems to signal the count down to Christmas. (Stores, of course, have been pimping Christmas since Labor Day, with fall and Halloween shoe-horned in other aisles as well.) I have been trying to do shopping throughout the year (I try to do this every year, some more successful than others) and I think, by and large, I'm close to set on the gift front. There are a few impossible to shop for people in my life who always throw a monkey wrench into things...one of these years that's what they're going to get.

But, last night since Tim ended up working late and then getting caught in horrendous traffic, a sleepy kiddo and I curled up on the couch and put in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. I have to say I find myself identifying more and more with Hermie (the elf who wants to be a dentist) every year. But it's always quite fun to watch the kiddo watch the movie and smile as his giggle fills the house at various points throughout.

Mostly though, I'm finding my thoughts turning to menus. First Thanksgiving and then Christmas. I really wish I could get away with not doing a turkey at Thanksgiving, but I suspect Tim and my in-laws would band together to try and drum me out of the country. Still, I guess as I only have to deal with the worlds more boring bird once a year I'm doing alright. For Thanksgiving, right now, we're looking at turkey with a yet to be determined preparation, roasted brussel sprouts (my sister sent me a recipe she wants me to try), kale chips (something my dad wants me to try), StoveTop Stuffing (because every home made recipe I try gets met with significant "blah" responses and StoveTop is routinely consumed with great rejoicing, so why buck the system?), and yeast rolls (courtesy of my mother-in-law.) Then pie. Pumpkin and pecan, I'm thinking.

Christmas is another thing entirely. No one seems to have any preconceived notions of what meat ought to appear as the centerpiece of Christmas dinner, so I get to play (and avoid more turkey, thank goodness.) Usually I end up doing prime rib, but I'm thinking this year I might do a porchetta. I made this for New Year's last year and it pretty much can be summed up with the word "Yum". I haven't thought much beyond that at this point, I'm just waiting for inspiration. So we'll see what happens. But I'm already looking forward to some quality time in the kitchen experimenting.

Last Night I Had a Crazy Dream*

I frequently have rather bizarre dreams, but this one stuck with me. Honestly, it was truly odd. I dreamt that we, on a whim while driving about doing various Saturday errands, decided to purchase a houseboat in Alexandria. (Are there houseboats in Alexandria? I have no idea.) This particular houseboat was unique, however, in that it was the only aquatic domicile in the otherwise normal older neighborhood like you'd find in Alexandria. Upon entering (boarding?) the home, you had a large open great room, and on the far end was a ladder that led you to the kitchen (which was a kind of a loft - open to below) and then a hall off to the 3 en suite bedrooms that composed the remainder of the home. The parking was about a half mile away down a leaf strewn dirt road that ran behind the fences of the other homes in the neighborhood. And the house's previous owner? A mix between Robbo (I know this only because his family's motivation for moving was the need for each of his girls to have their own room) and my best friend from high school who has since disappeared from contact (but as I don't think Robbo would randomly burst into scenes from Richard III and Michael most definitely would, I'm guessing it was a blend).

I was distraught at the prospect of moving, however, and spent the majority of the dream trying to figure out a way to turn the houseboat into a rental property and stay put while Tim objected that renters would surely puncture the floor and we'd end up with nothing other than a glorified swimming pool too far away to reasonably use.

Sometimes I wonder about my subconscious.

*spot the quote