Yesterday was gorgeous. Scout and I went outside so I could hang some laundry on the clothesline. Safely enclosed in her baby cage, Scout played happily (for the most part) while I pinned freshly laundered sheets and towels to the line. Ahhhh. There's nothing like it.







Fast forward to later in the afternoon:

That load was dry, so I went to take a load of Scout's clothes out of the machine and realized that they had all been horribly stained with rust. I knew that putting them in the dryer would be a bad idea, so I hung them on the line while I tried to think of a plan. We were going to take them to a friend's house who has well-water last night, but our water started running clear before they called me back, so I've been washing/soaking them in our washer since then. DH stopped and got a bottle of "Iron Out" rust remover on his way home from work yesterday, but I'm trying to hold out and only use it as a last resort since it is so harsh. The bottle says it can "irreparably damage colors, logos, and embroidery." Dang.

I let the clothes sit in a washer full of vinegar and water this morning and have plans to go get some lemon juice, salt, and oxyclean. But just now, I filled the washer up with some more clean water for them to soak in and guess what? MORE RUST!!!!! Even worse than yesterday. And I thought I was being so smart and thorough by "testing" the water every time I ran the washer by filling up a mason jar with the washer water and holding against something white so I could check to see if it was discolored. Apparently, the water was running clear when I tested and then turned brown after I left the laundry room. {insert banging-head-against-a-brick-wall smiley here} Now, not only are all the clothes tinted brownish-orange, they have huge blotches of dark rust stains on top of that.

This whole thing wouldn't normally have ruffled my feathers so badly, except that this load was almost entirely made up of brand new outfits that Scout received for her birthday. A lot of it is very expensive stuff that my family bought for her while they were visiting recently. There's got to be at least $200-$300 worth of brand new clothing in there that now seems ruined.


This shirt used to be snow white, by the way:



I just called the water department and they basically (in a nice and sympathetic way :eyeroll ) said "tough luck". The lady said that the fire dept was going around and flushing hydrants yesterday, so EVERYONE in town has been calling and complaining. She said that they don't even inform the water dept before they do it.

Hey, Fire Dept, get a freaking clue!!!! All you have to do is post signs on the hydrants around the neighborhoods that say what dates the hydrant flushing will be done and then people will know not to do laundry or cook with their water on those days. That's what they did in my neighborhood where I grew up and it worked fine. It just seems like a no-brainer to me.

The lady at the water dept transferred me to the public works director so I could leave a message for him, but I don't know how that could do any good. I'm sure my message is just one of MANY he's gotten in the last few days if everyone around here is irate about the rust problem. I just (politely and calmly) let him know that at least a couple hundred dollars of my daughters brand new clothes that she has only gotten the chance to wear a few times are completely ruined and I feel like I should be compensated in some way and that having the whole town mad about the water being contaminated could've easily been avoided by POSTING A FEW SIGNS. I left my phone # ....we'll see if he ever calls back.

I am taking the clothes over to my friend's house this afternoon to try to get as much rust out as I can, using some of the products mentioned above. Wish me luck.

(any assvice is totally welcome :)

Labels: doh, laundry, pics of scout

Scout knows quite a few signs now and it REALLY helps to know what she wants. She knows diaper change, eat, more(which also means "I want" if she is pointing to something), nurse (which also means "I'm tired" if signed in the evening ), baby, and ball. We are currently working on sit, drink, and help. We've never been very consistent with doing the signs for mommy and daddy. But lately, I've noticed that Scout seems to have made up her own sign for daddy. Every time I would say, "Daddy's home" or "Where's Daddy?" She would rest her fist on the middle of her chest and tap her chest softly with her index finger. DH and I had no idea where she came up with this sign. It amazed me that she made it up all by herself.

Until.....a lightbulb went off in my head one day and I realized that she was simply mimicking us. You see, instead of doing the sign for mommy and daddy, we normally just point to ourselves and say "I'm Mommy" or "I'm Daddy". I guess we thought that would help her learn who is who. So now, she thinks that the sign for daddy (and maybe mommy too?) is tapping on her chest. LOL!

Labels: doh, sign language

DH and I scored free tickets to a local music festival at the last minute on Saturday and decided to go and take Scout with us. (Couldn't pass up an opportunity to see one of my fave bands - Sonic Youth - for free!) My only concern was that we didn't have adequate ear protection for her and I wasn't sure how loud the music would be. So, Matt picked up some ear plugs at a music store and even though they weren't made for kids, we figured they would work (since they are the spongy foamy kind that you can squeeze into even the littlest ear)

When we got to the festival, we ate and then I strapped Scout to my back in the Ergo carrier right after we put the ear plugs in her ears. We found a not-so-crowded spot sort of far away from the stage, but where we could still see really well and we chilled there waiting for Sonic Youth to take the stage. Scout was still in the Ergo.

All of the sudden, Matt said "She's got an ear plug in her mouth!!!" I turned so he could reach her and then he yelled, "Get her out of there!!!" My heart jumped into my throat. I unbuckled the Ergo and he pulled her out. She was choking. She could not breath. Her lips weren't blue yet, but her eyes and mouth were wide open but she wasn't drawing any breath - she was panicking. We were panicking. I told Matt to flip her forward so that she was almost upside down and I pounded on her back HARD with the heel of my hand. The ONLY reason I knew to do that was because she choked briefly on a canned peach chunk not too long ago and it freaked me out enough to look on the internet for info on what to do in that situation. The peach chunk incident was more like she was gagging/coughing....nothing compared to THIS. I swear. I did not think the ear plug was going to come up! It seemed like it took FOREVER, even though I know it probably only took a few seconds.

She finally let out a cry and we lifted her upright. For a second, I still thought she had the ear plug in her mouth, but she didn't. It had come out and was on the ground by Matt's feet. To me, her lips looked a little blue-tinted at that point, but it was hard to tell since it was getting dark out. She seemed a little bit shaken up, but was totally back to her normal happy-go-lucky self within minutes. Matt and I were total wrecks and could not believe what had just happened. What if it would not have come up? I felt like we came so close to losing our precious baby girl that night. It is so crazy how one stupid mistake like that has the potential to change EVERYTHING in an instant. I felt so dumb. Why didn't I think about the possibility of her grabbing them out of her ears? I could just kick myself. For months and months (actually, even before Scout was born) I have been wanting to order some of those noise cancelling headphones that are made especially for kids and toddlers...you know, the kind that ther rock stars' kids wear to concerts. But I just kept putting it off.

Matt said that right before it happened, he was sitting there spacing out, staring at some woman who was dancing all drunk and crazy-like to the music, when he heard that Still Small Voice that said, "look at your daughter". We believe it was the Holy Spirit telling him to look at Scout at that moment. I am so glad he did.

I kept playing the whole thing over in my head the next day and the more I thought about it, the more I knew that there was definitely some divine intervention going on. Whew! It just makes me so thankful that even in our total stupidity and carelessness, God's grace abounds and he is there to guide us.

I know this sounds over-dramatic (and way morbid) but Sunday morning, I woke up thinking that Matt and I could easily be in gut-wrenching, disgustingly painful mourning for the loss of our sweet child, had Matt not seen that she had the ear plug in her mouth. It could have been several minutes before I would've even thought to try to look over my shoulder to check on her. If I would've stopped feeling her moving around in the Ergo, I would've just thought that she had fallen asleep. What if Matt would've been in the bathroom or off getting a drink at a concession stand? No one around us seemed to be paying much attention and it was pretty dark, so I doubt that anyone would've noticed that Scout was choking to death. It makes me sick to think about how things could've turned out. I should probably stop thinking of all the "what ifs"

Labels: deep thoughts, doh, music, outings, spirituality

Friday morning, Scout woke up at 4 AM (as she did on Saturday morning as well...let's hope this does not become a trend again!) and wouldn't go back to sleep until 7 AM. I tried to nurse her back down 3 times, but each time she would squirm and pop right back up, eager to leave her bedroom to explore the rest of the house. When she woke up again at 9 AM, I changed her diaper and made a funny discovery. I had changed her diaper at 4 AM after realizing she wasn't going back to sleep. Changes are alway a struggle, but can usually be made less traumatic for all involved if I give her something to busy her hands, so I gave her a little plastic ring (which is a little bauble that used to be part of a larger toy)to keep her occupied. Apparently, the ring had fallen down into her pajamas before I zipped her up. The poor gal had to lay on top of it while I was nursing her too, because when I opened her pajamas, there it was on her right side...the side she lays on when facing me to nurse. At least there was a bodysuit between her and the hard plastic ring. Oops!

Labels: doh, pics of scout

Okay, seriously. I guess I need to remove my little Blog 365 button from my sidebar. I am so not worthy. Maybe I'll be the founder of the club: "Blog Every Other Day...or at least twice a week"

My sis sent me a pic that she scanned with her (obviously) crappy scanner. I think it's one of the only pictures of me in existence that doesn't make me feel bad about myself. (I'm the one on the right, by the way) I had just turned 15. I guess it's kind of sad that I was 15 the last time I remember being close to my ideal weight. I know I can't place the blame on anyone but myself, but shortly after that pic was taken, I met the guy I dated through the rest of high school. We got fat together. We would sit around and smoke out and then get the munchies and gorge ourselves on junk food. all. the. time. I think we both gained 25 lbs in the matter of 2 years. He eventually took it off. I didn't.

This picture inspires me.



Gosh. It makes me want to vomit when I compare it to this pic.

Labels: doh, health, weight loss

I haven't mentioned a whole lot about my weight loss journey thus far because I guess there's just not much to report. I joined Weight Watchers back in October and I've lost 12.6 lbs to date. As you can see by the chart, my weight's sort of been bobbing up and down lately. I haven't been working the plan like I should. Sometimes I'm lazy about getting all of the required servings of vegetables and water and sometimes I spend my points on some really stupid crap. I rarely just go nuts and go way over my points, but I've also been lazy about measuring all of my food and journaling every little thing that goes into my mouth. Like I said, not working the plan....but I'm certainly not totally blowing either. When I started, I had 41 points to spend per day. After losing a little weight, my points went down to 38 per day. Most people don't get that many points, but nursing mothers get an extra 10points.

This morning as I was squeezing my fat ass (please excuse my language - I'm just a bit disgusted with my weight right now) into some pants that used to practically hang off of me, it occurred to me that I need to do something drastically different if I want to get this weight off. It also occurred to me that Scout is not nursing nearly as much as she used to now that she has a newfound love for solid foods. So, I decided that I am going to lop off that 10 point nursing mother allowance and stick to consuming just 28 points a day instead.

I admit that I have an addictive personality and if there is a "loophole" in a diet, I will find it. That is why it has been so easy for me to spend too many of my daily points on things like 100 calorie packs of oreo crisps and 1 point Weight Watchers dessert cakes, while neglecting my daily veggie requirements. I used to be very commited to not buying a ton of processed foods and cooking as naturally as I can, but when I'm on a "diet", suddenly I don't care and I look at those stupid low-cal snack cakes as the only things that are helping me not feel deprived.

I most definitely need to change the way I view food.

I have been an overeater for as long as I can remember. I suppose it's tough to correct a lifetime of unhealthy attitudes toward food within a matter of a couple months. (Not that I should use that as an excuse) Sometimes I feel powerless over food. For example, when DH was out of town for a few days this past week, I actually found myself soaking a large hunk of bundt cake with water before chucking it in the trash because I knew I couldn't trust myself not to eat it. Throwing it in the trash wouldn't have have been enough to deter me. Like a nicotine addict who digs a half-smoked cigarette out a of a public butt can, I would not put myself above pulling a George Costanza and grabbing a food item out of the trash in a moment of desperation. (We know, George, it was "on top")

I know, it's sad. I need help.

Labels: doh, food, goals, health, household chores, weight loss

One would think that living with my DH would cause me to be well versed in the art of sarcasm. Even after 5 1/2 years of marriage there are times when I'm not sure if he is being serious or if he's joking. One time he said "I hate you" to one of our friends after she complimented his new haircut. She knows that he is (in his own words, not mine) a "sarcastic jerk", but still couldn't help but wonder if he was being seriously mean.

I said all that just to preface a story about something embarrassing I did. One of the recent posts on Daddy Types featured commentary on an article about a magazine cover that shows the bare breast of a breastfeeding mother. Some of the people interviewed in the article are disgusted by the cover and also by breastfeeding in public. One of the interviewees stated that he thinks breastfeeding is an intimate moment that should be shared privately between infant and mother. Well, I think I misunderstood the stance Daddy Types took on the issue and wrote a rather passionate comment on that particular post. Now, I'm pretty sure the Daddy Types writer was agreeing with the anti-nursing-in-public wackies in a very tongue in cheek sort of way. I totally missed the sarcasm and thought he was teaming up with their "Breastfeeding? Eeewwe gross!" attitude. You can read what I wrote here. It's the one posted by eipwek. Sorry Daddy Types, your hilariously trite sarcasm was totally wasted on me. My husband would be ashamed of me.

The thing that made me realize that the Daddy Types writer was (I hope, but still not 100% positive. Dang it!) being facecious was a comment another reader posted: "Dear daddytype think there was some sort of HTML error and you forgot to close your sarcasm tag . It might be throwing some people off." Doh! In the words of Emo Philips on Weird Al's UHF as his face was being soaked with fake blood from his severed thumb, "Is my face red!"

Labels: breastfeeding, doh