Google me this…

May 31, 2005

This week marks the launch of former English teacher mrtl‘s Motif Monday. I don’t generally get in on the various themed days in blogland (Self-portrait day, Stuff Friday, etc.), but I like this one, because (a) it’s simple: mrtl gives a topic (which, I believe will be just one word, after this week), (b) it doesn’t require me to take/upload/fix/crop photos of anything or anyone, and (c) I’ll always be a schoolgirl at heart, sitting in the second desk from the front, in the row closest to the teacher’s desk.

(As an aside, yes, I do realize today is actually Tuesday. But yesterday was a holiday, so – for all intent and purposes – today is Monday. Shut up. It is so.)

This week’s theme is “My #1 Google search term.” As you can imagine, I get many hits from people searching for information on ladybugs, including – but not limited to – “what a ladybug looks like”, “long ladybug grow”, “a pregnant ladybug”, and the oh-so-specific, all-caps request “LADYBUG THAT’S AN INSECT”. I can only imagine the disappointment – or sheer horror – when these well-intentioned searches land those poor folks here.

I also get plenty of hits from people looking to accessorize their lives with various ladybug paraphernalia: “lady bug baths”, “lady bug toys”, “LADYBUG BEDROOM”, “how to build a ladybug house”, “ladybug bedroom stuff”, “ladybug baby stuff”, “ladybug stove”, “ladybug rock”, “swimsuit AND ladybug”, and “ladybug cake” – which, I hope, would be a cake made to look like a ladybug, and not one made out of ladybugs (blech).

Ladybug searches aside, I do get some interesting, and some humorous hits. For instance, the following are examples of searches – exactly as they were Googled – that have landed unsuspecting victims visitors here.

“Saturday Night Live-oops, I crapped my pants” (#7 Google result)

“squirl + pus” (#5 Google result) (This one requires a nod to Squirl, else that spelling-challenged Googler would’ve ended up elsewhere.)

“kimberley swimsuit bachelor naked” (#10 Google result)

Other search phrases that show up in my stats:

a ladybug with attitude (Hell, yeah. I’ll show you attitude.)
explosive diarrhea (Yep. Been there. Done that. And you might wanna get off the computer and go check that diaper again.)
fun and bronchoscopy (Trust me. Fun, it ain’t.)
10 month old night wakings (Um, yeah. I feel for you. I really do. But – I’m so sorry – you’ll find nothing actually helpful here.)
lady like vomiting (There’s nothing ladylike about vomiting. It can’t be done. Unless you were looking for a lady who…likes vomiting? And if so…just…YUCK.)
baby diarrhea night (There again, been there. Done that. Go check that diaper again.)
loud birds waking you up (May I suggest a scarecrow?)
Vomiting bug 2005 (Now that’s just gross.)

My all-time favorite search phrase, though, is this one:

“I like the way you put your hands up in the air 2005”.

I’ve no idea what that person was searching for, but seeing that phrase in my stats made me giggle.


An update, by way of semi-coherent ramblings

May 27, 2005

Wow, what a whirlwind of a week. This week was the last week of school and the first week of T-ball and softball games. Which means our commitments this week have included, but not been limited to:

1 kindergarten awards assembly
1 softball practice
1 children’s choir practice
2 end-of-school parties
4 ball games (2 T-ball games (Miss Attitude) and 2 softball games (The Drama Queen)).

Not to mention all the regular working/going to school/keeping up with kids/caring for baby stuff.

We are all worn out, exhausted, and thankful that yesterday was the last day of school.

Of course, Tuesday through Friday of next week, The Drama Queen has basketball camp in the mornings, and both girls have children’s choir practice (They are preparing their program for Vacation Bible School at church.) in the afternoons. Then Miss Attitude has church Day Camp next Saturday (6/04), and the girls have VBS the next week. And we’ll still have 4 or 5 ball games each week for the next three weeks or so. THEN maybe things will settle down a bit, and we can relax a little and enjoy what’s left of the summer. (School starts mid-August here.)

So NOW you see why I haven’t been updating much lately. We’re just runningrunningrunning all the time these days; and when I do finally sit down, I’m too tired to think straight.

Thanks to those of you who are still around, and still checking in here periodically. I’m not dead yet, just treading water to keep from drowning!

This just in…

May 24, 2005

…via Dave Barry’s Blog:


*May not be suitable for viewing at work.

Baby Boy 11-Month Newsletter

May 18, 2005

Dear Baby Boy,

You turned 11 months old on Sunday. You may be wondering why I haven’t already written this month’s newsletter, and I have a very simple explanation: I AM EXHAUSTED, BECAUSE YOU WON’T SLEEP. Seriously, child. What happened to the baby who used to sleep through the night, EVERY night? Can we get THAT baby back? We are currently considering trading you in for a more cooperative model. You’ve been waking up and fussing anywhere from two to eight or more times a night, sometimes going right back to sleep, and sometimes keeping us up for hours at a time, with Daddy and I trying everything we can think of to soothe you and comfort you and convince you to please, PLEASE just go back to bed and SLEEP until morning, so maybe we can get a little rest. We’re hoping – PRAYING – this is just a phase, and once you get through it, you ARE NOT ALLOWED TO GO THROUGH ANY MORE PHASES, at least until you get your own place. We’re just too tired and stressed out for any more funny business from you, Young Man.

You’ve had another busy month, Baby Boy. You’ve gone from having two hillbilly teeth, to having eight beautiful little pearly whites – four on top and four on bottom – all lined up, just as they should be. You’re really starting to look like a big boy now.

You’ve been practicing pulling up and cruising – walking while holding onto the furniture – this month. Your balance is getting better, and your legs are getting stronger…


People often ask Daddy and me, “Is he walking yet?” And we can honestly say that we are in no hurry for you to walk. After watching your sisters go from babies to big kids in no time flat, Daddy and I have finally learned the importance of enjoying each stage and each milestone as they happen, instead of anxiously awaiting the next one. So, take your time, Baby Boy. Don’t be in too big a hurry to grow up. We’ve got enough of that around here already.

You still love your books more than your toys, and that makes me smile. My current secret formula for motivating you to come to me, when you are determined to crawl down the hall and into your sisters’ room – where you would surely meet an untimely demise by choking on some small, horrid, not-for-children-under-age-3 toy – is to simply sit in the floor and start reading one of your books. You immediately know what I’m doing; even if you’re not looking at me when I start reading, I have your attention as soon as you hear the words. And – most of the time, anyway – you’ll come crawling over to me and into my lap, and we’ll finish the book together, and probably read a few more. I LOVE that you love to read and be read to.

Baby Boy, Mom and Dad have been very tired and cranky lately. But we’ve been-here-done-this before, and we know that this, too, shall pass. We know that things will get better. We know that your sleep habits will eventually improve. And we also know that your baby days are numbered. You’re growing too fast. It’s happening already. We just turned around, and poof! Almost a year has gone by. I feel myself already starting to mourn the loss of your babyhood. Because I know we’ll turn around again, and you’ll be starting school. I know I can’t stop you from growing up too fast, but I can’t help feeling a little sad that you won’t always be Mama’s baby boy.

For now, though, I’ll find my happiness in the simple pleasures. In the way you squeal and kick your feet with glee when you see me. In the way you grab and hug your sisters, like you’ve just found your long-lost best friend. In the way you – just this afternoon – heard your Daddy’s voice and stopped nursing to sit up and look for him. (It seems you had a smile you’d been saving just for him. Once you saw him and gave him that huge grin, you went right back to nursing.) I’ll find my happiness in these moments, and try to forget how fleeting they are.


I love you, my Baby Boy, my Little Man.


Because I am all about the list-making…

May 16, 2005

Three reasons I am frowning today:

1. It’s Monday morning. Again. Need I say more?

2. Baby Boy REFUSES to sleep through the night these days. Deputy Dad and I are frustrated and EXHAUSTED.

3. I am facing an UNBELIEVABLE schedule of activities this week, which is TOTALLY STRESSING ME OUT. For example, this afternoon I will pick Miss Attitude up from school at 3:10, then pick The Drama Queen up from school and Baby Boy from the sitter, race to the house to fix the girls a snack, get homework done, and nurse Baby Boy. I will then rush, while dragging the kids along, to meet with Mother-In-Law and a friend at 4:30 to rehearse a couple of songs for Friday night’s local American Cancer Society Relay for Life activities. (I just got a call last week, at practically the last minute, asking our trio to sing this coming Friday. And I said yes. Because I am a glutton for punishment. And because I am, apparently, mildly retarded.) We’ll probably practice ’til about 5:30 or so. Then Miss Attitude has T-ball practice from 6:00 to 7:00. (I can’t just leave her there, not only because I want to watch her practice, but also because the area where they practice is Not A Good Neighborhood, and I just WON’T leave her there without Deputy Dad or me there to keep an eye on her.) Once her practice is over, we’ll still be faced with supper, baths and bedtime.
Rinse and repeat for tomorrow and Thursday, except throw in The Drama Queen’s softball practice, from 5:30 to 6:30. That’s right. I’ll take The Drama Queen to practice at 5:30, take Miss Attitude to practice at 6:00. Pick up The Drama Queen at 6:30, pick up Miss Attitude at 7:00. All the while dragging Baby Boy around with me.


Three Four reasons I am smiling today:

1. I had the pleasure of talking on the phone with my Best Blogging Friend, Colleen, on Saturday night. We had such a good visit, and chatted so easily, it felt like we’d known each other for years.

2. Speaking of pleasure, this weekend, Deputy Dad and I……[yeah, like I’m really gonna give you THOSE details].

3. Despite the fact that my children often drive me crazy and are threatening to send me to an early grave, they really are very cute and very sweet, and I couldn’t be more in love with them.

[Updated to add a fourth reason I am smiling]

4. I am simply thrilled that hard-working, all-around-great-guy, NYC Fireman Tom won Survivor: Palau over sniveling, whining, flip-flopping Katie. It’s been a long time since the winning Survivor was someone who truly deserved it.
[I am, however, frowning because I missed Desperate Housewives to watch the Survivor finale. I think Mother-In-Law may have taped it, though.]

Self-Portrait, a Timeline, and General Whining

May 12, 2005

In honor of Self Portrait Day, I give you my current state of not-so-well-being:

(Click here to create your own South Park character)*

As you can see, it’s been months since I’ve had my hair cut or my eyebrows done. (In fact, I’ve been to the salon ONCE since Baby Boy was born almost eleven months ago.) And I’m wearing my glasses today, because my eyes are too tired and bloodshot to even think about putting my contacts in. (As an aside, though, I think the red sweater compliments the red streaks in my eyes very well, don’t you?)

* * * *

My apologies for being MIA for so long. (And many hugs and thank-yous to those of you who emailed me to make sure I hadn’t run off with the UPS man. — They’ve already started wearing those cute little brown shorts around here. ROWR. Ahem. But I digress…)

As a way of updating you on…well, just about everything that’s been going on around here…I present a timeline:

May 4 – Wednesday: Baby Boy slept all night, without waking up and fussing, for the first time in several weeks. Unfortunately, Deputy Dad and I did not reap full benefits from the slumberfest, since we were both up coughing off and on during the night. (You know that lingering cough you get at the end of the cold/allergy-type crud? The relentless cough that keeps you up nights and feels like it will NEVER leave? Yeah, THAT cough. We’ve both got it.)
–I leave work at 11:00 AM to go pick up Baby Boy from the sitter, after she calls to let me know he’s had diarrhea all morning.

—-Oh, yeah. That reminds me. If you don’t have children, you’re probably not accustomed to the frequent discussions of baby bowel movements, as well as the various and sundry solids, liquids, and gasses that are generated by and evacuated from babies with extreme prejudice, on a regular basis. If you’re not comfortable with those topics, you might want to stop reading now. This is entry is rated PG for Pretty Gross.—-

May 4 – Wednesday (cont’d): I’m trying to figure out what Baby Boy has eaten that might have upset his tummy to such a degree, when the diarrhea gives way to fever and vomiting. Ahh, that explains it. It’s a stomach bug. I spend the rest of the day and evening trying to make him comfortable and keep him hydrated, forcing Pedialyte® down his throat every twenty minutes.
No more vomiting or diarrhea after about 5:00.

May 5 – Thursday: Although understandably tired, Baby Boy seems to be over his stomach bug. He spends the day home with Daddy, with no more signs of the vicious virus, and Mom and Dad breathe a sigh of relief.

May 6 – Friday: Baby Boy returns to the sitter, so Deputy Dad and I could join Miss Attitude on the kindergarten field trip. When we pick him up from the sitter, she says he “moved his bowels” a few times, and they were all “loose.” (She always says “moved his bowels.” She’s an older lady, and those senior citizens, they’re all about the Moving of the Bowels, I tell ya.) When we try to give Baby Boy his allergy medicine that night, he immediately throws it up. We (stupidly) give him the rest of the dose, only to have him throw up again. We (again, stupidly) decide he must have some residual nausea from the bug, because come on, he’s over that already, right?

May 7 – Saturday: Deputy Dad is working day shift, so I (stupidly…SO stupidly) decide to load up all three kids and drive to [nearby town we often go to] to go shopping for the girls’ softball stuff. They both need cleats, shorts, etc. No big deal, right? (So, so stupid) Here’s where things start to get (literally and figuratively) VERY MESSY.
Baby Boy starts fussing in the middle of Academy. I only have to lean over to smell…umm…that smell…that unmistakable stench of baby diarrhea. He’s getting fussier by the millisecond – and understandably so, I’d be fussing too, if I was sitting in…well, a load of crap – so I pick him up and hold him close to comfort him, as the girls and I make a beeline for the restroom. As I lay him down on the changing table, I realize something is very, very wrong. Wrong as in…HUGE, GIGANTIC wet spot, all over the front of my shirt. Wet spot? What’s tha–Oh, HELL NO. The stomach bug? The short-lived stomach bug, that had gone away so quickly? Had come back WITH A VENGEANCE. The child had EXPLOSIVE diarrhea, which had made its way OUT the top of his diaper, and now he and I were both covered in rancid baby diarrhea from the waist up. GAG.

After spending twenty minutes in the restroom, getting Baby Boy cleaned up and his clothes changed (there wasn’t much I could do about my own sad, smelly state), the kids and I RUSH out of the store, and SPEED to the pediatrician’s office. On the way there, I was bawling on the phone with the nurse. “I don’t know what’s wrong. He was sick, then he was better, now he’s sick again. He just had EXPLOSIVE diarrhea in the middle of the store, and I’m covered in it…[blah, blah, blah]” I’m sure I sounded like a real nut-job.

We saw the doctor. Stomach flu. Lasts about 5 days, usually. Getting better, then sick again isn’t abnormal. They call that a bi-phasic virus, or some such technical, medical jargon, mumbo-jumbo.

—-It occurs to me this is taking way too long. Must condense.—-

The rest of the weekend was a blur of dirty diarrhea diapers, cranky baby, and exhaustion. Deputy Dad worked day shift Saturday and Sunday, which left me home to deal with a sick baby and his two squabbling sisters most of the weekend. Then he got called in to work day shift on Monday, too, so I took off work to stay home with Baby Boy, since he STILL had diarrhea. ACK!

Finally, finally he was feeling better Tuesday afternoon. But his sleeping schedule is TOTALLY and COMPLETELY screwed up. He’s getting up several times a night, and usually expecting to be nursed every time. I’m absolutely exhausted. So is Deputy Dad, who is kind enough to get up with Baby Boy and try to console him, but is (obviously) lacking the necessary equipment to nurse the ravenous little monster.

Oh, and Mother’s Day? Did you say Sunday was Mother’s Day? HA! I LAUGH in the face of Mother’s Day. Mother’s Day done took me out behind the toolshed and whooped my ass, leaving me lying in a pool of my own blood….well, leaving me up to my elbows in baby diarrhea, anyway. Let’s just say, this weekend ranked right up there as one of the worst weekends EVER. Not just Mother’s Day weekends, but ANY weekend. It was just awful.

So. There you have it. The dog-ate-my-homework, sun-was-in-my-eyes, long-drawn-out excuses why you haven’t heard from me lately. Even with Baby Boy feeling better, I’m just too damned exhausted to be much fun right now. Plus, after missing work both Friday and Monday, I’ve been absolutely swamped at the office this week.

Maybe we’ll get some rest soon, and I can be back in top form. In the meantime, at least you’ll have this post to look at, rather than the poopy poetry you had to stare at for almost a week. (Sorry ’bout that.)

…Now returning to the corner, where I will curl up and pray for rest…

*I’ve never watched South Park. We don’t even get Comedy Central. I stole the link from Bucky’s blog.

That there is some funny…er…poop.

May 4, 2005

I have been unofficially tagged by kalki over at klog, with this “Turd in a punch bowl” meme that’s going around. As I am otherwise devoid of any creativity whatsoever (I’m still sick with cold/allergy stuff, and Baby Boy now has some sort of stomach bug, complete with diarrhea, fever, and vomiting. Geesh.), I decided to face the evil meme and accept my fate be a good sport and participate.

The Rules:

Write four lines of poetry. The first and third lines must be “Turd in a punch bowl.” The second and fourth lines must rhyme.
Oh, and tag three other bloggers, blah, blah, blah.

Okay, here goes nuthin’:

Turd in a punch bowl
Really caught me eye.
Turd in a punch bowl
What a classy guy.

Also, because I am an overachiever, I give you:

Turd in a punch bowl
A floater in the pool.
Turd in a punch bowl
A sickening, sample stool.

Turd in a punch bowl
Looking so forlorn.
Turd in a punch bowl
Oh, dear. I see some corn.

Okay, yuck. I’ll have to stop there. I just grossed myself out. Apologies and all that jazz.

Oh, yes, and I unofficially tag Danielle, Homestead, and Amber, since they may be the last three bloggers in my corner of the blogosphere, who haven’t been tagged. Ladies, this unofficial tag means you can write poopy poetry or pretend you never saw this post, whatever you want to do.

If you need me, I’ll be curled up in the corner, praying for rest and wellness.