Gau! Gau's journey!

New shiny! phone, in the process of getting shiny shiny! laptop, and getting treasure! at new University (classes begin today). Two new uaooooo!s I found on the Veldt, who look like me. Big new directions.

So let me talk about the day before yesterday. (aaand cue fanfare music)


My mission: after woman of special interest who is special and a lady got home from work, I was gonna take the bus to school with my shiny shiny! bus pass (that I paid for unchoicegivenly with my Student Services and Activities Fee), find out where my classes are going to be held so I'm not looking around on the day of classes and getting myself late, and then take a bus to dim dim University Village to go visit the Apple store and buy a MacBook. (yay financial aid)

In a more summary nutshell:
1. Find out where classes are.
2. Go to Apple store.

I had to wait until my Lady Special came home, which was like 3:40. It took about a half hour after that before I even created my mission. She walked in the door, and I was on the couch looking at the lingerie section of a JCPenny catalogue while the kids were breaking windows and tearing off wallpaper.

She hands me the day's mail. Included is an envelope from UW Financial Fiscal Monetary Coin Paper Tree Company University Sector. Included in the envelope is a financial aid check for some coin. Not an our worries are over amount of coin, but a breathing room, phew amount. It was enough to buy a laptop, ensuring the taking of sweet notes in class, and all the online reading and typing of papers and such that skool reakwires, and bonus a replacement of my 3+yr-old Dell machine (which I love. We have a relationship for sure).

We're both happy about the check. Megan suggests I go buy a laptop right then and there. It kind of took me aback, the thought of making such a big purchase right away, without having to feel guilty about spending money. It was an idea that took me by surprise. After thinking it over for a few more minutes of couch-piloted JCPenny models in beige, cream-colored, thick bras and undies and havoc-wreaking kids, I found that Megan was right. There wasn't time to spare.

It was about 4:30. I got on a bus. On the way to campus, I stopped at the bookstore. It's on the Ave, really close. Found the other book I need for Spanish 101. Then I perused the office supplies, taking my time and enjoying myself, trying out several varieties of pen. Then I got a burger and fries and Mtn Dew. But it got the better of me, cause when I got to campus after that, the computer labs were all closed. But I did get to see this:

Lame.

I hadn't written down where my classes were going to be! So going into the buildings would have been useless without the class numbers. I was counting on being able to use a computer lab to login to my UW thingy and find that out. Didn't think about it b4 I left home; wasn't time.

So I'm sort of disenfranchised(?) at this point, but I used my handy dandy--notebook!--no, my smartest of phones to find the bus route to UVillage. I get to the stop, get on the bus, spend a little time walking around, seeing what happened to the building that once housed the restaurant I once worked in, looking at all the glitzy stuff and regular and irregular people. I asked a hot redhead where the Apple store was, and was surprised I had no interest in flirting with her, smiling to myself as I walked where she pointed me.

Coming up is the best part of the entire journey. It's getting dark outside. I get to the Apple store.

You know what? I can't say it in words. Here is what I encountered:

Mine

eyes

could

not

believe

them

selves

nor

could

the brain

they're

wired

to.

So I took some pictures and was all like, "Well my objectives both were failures of good intention this evening," and I went into a Barnes and Noble to blow off some steam and look at their cds. They all sucked. The music playing overhead was so lame--newschool renditions of tired, tired old blues numbers.

My backpack was starting to get heavy. I was unfamiliar with the street names and bus stops around that territory. I'm walking down ... 25th, is it? The street that runs right in front of UVillage? Well, I'm going south, looking at my phone, searching for this bus stop it was directing me towards, tired, and wanting the night to be over. I can't find the stupid street it was telling me to get to; they're all wacky over there. I make a wrong turn and just end up walking the fuck through all of campus, uphill half the way. Brutal. I'm so tired, and the trip has been fruitless, so mix frustration and placeless anger on top of that.

I remember the exact place the next thing of interest that evening happened. I had gotten up the hill and was walking fairly fast thru campus towards 15th Ave, where the 48 runs. On a brick walkway, near some pretty little buildings with trees creating a canopy above, I step down on my left foot and feel a sharp pain. Not enough to make me stop walking, but definitely enough to slow me down.

I knew I had given myself some kind of sprain or stress thingy in the muscles down there, and the sensation was familiar. When I walk, for some reason, without thinking about it, I step harder on my left heel than my right. I immediately started remembering when I used to do this to myself much more often, when I was in school before, when walking was a much larger part of my daily goingaboutmybusinesses. Or when I used to walk to work and spend more of the day on my feet. The pain brought me back to a time forgotten; to a different me. I was grateful for the trigger's effect on my memory, but not for its effect on my leg.

Then I remembered trying to correct my walking all that time ago, and I realized I'd have to reemploy that technique right then and there. I continued walking to the bus stop, limping. Made it home. The pain wasn't horrible.

When I woke up yesterday morning? Not so bad. A background feeling of weirdness down there.

When I took the kids to the park? Bang! It came back with a vengeance. Doing some outdoor walking really made it bad. I was leaning on the stroller just to take some of the pressure off my foot. I kind of started giving BB a wheelie, so I had to lay off and try to just walk it out.

But, oh, dude, that didn't compare to when I had Justin drive me to campus, cause he's a nice guy and we'd been planning it for a few days and we'd get to hang. Walking around there, I was totally screwed. I had to walk slower than I'd ever had to walk before. Descending declines was the worst. It hurt so bad! Shooting pain through my whole lower left leg. Oh man I was limping and trying not to act weird. So many other kids around, awkward themselves, and I wanted to get out of their faster-walking-ways but I couldn't, and they for some reason wouldn't pass me either, so I had backing up kids of awkward backing up behind me, even though I'm off to the side as much as I can be. It's funny, now that I'm thinking about it. They were probably all thinking I was trying to act cool, but actually... I was limping a bit obviously, too.

I found my stupid classrooms after more stupid walking. I went home.

Ankle feels better today. Not much, but better. It'll hurt like a snitch as soon as I start walking toward the bus, I know it. Tonight is the first night of my evening classes. It's Writing for Mass Media. Sounds cool, right? I'm looking forward to it.

Thank you for reading this far. I'll let you know how everything goes.

Okay bye.

Pychktchuerrs

The word Blurb and Blog oughtta be interchanged

Just a quick post but I have nothing to say. Last night I had great bro time and jamming and recording of the jamming with Justin Manitude Metal. My sweet metal name is Glenn Maximum Doom. Also, together we are Maximum Manitude.

Okay, Lucy is being a really patient, good girl. No fake tantrums (little, short bursts) like yesterday. Mama said she was very good last night.

Oh, look, she got her boots and brought them to the back door we always go out. Okay gotta go.

BB sleeps... for now

So of course I'm neglecting my household dadly duties by writing this, duties which can all be summarized by the word "cleaning," but I want to talk a little about BB's sleeping patterns, as compared to Lucy's at that age.

BB will be four months old in four days. Her cuteness has hit its all-time peak, and it's only looking like it's going to continue peaking. She's lost that newborn look and is into full on baby. What do you call the stage between newborn and toddler? Is it baby? That's where she is now and it's way too cute.

She's sleeping now in the room. Putting her down is mostly the same as it was putting Lucy down at four months, except I'm doing it slightly differently. My methods may seem cruel to some--I tend to leave her alone and let her fall asleep by herself. Lately, though, I've stayed with her as she fell asleep. Like today. Well, kind of.

Her naps aren't fitting an exact, rigid schedule, nor do I want to shape them into one, but she mostly takes three naps a day. Two at minimum. Yesterday and today she woke up after 7:30, which is very nice for me as it allows me time to get my coffee going and tend to Lucy, who is always up by 7. This morning she was just outside my bedroom doors (which I can see thru--French doors with windows), playing with her pink bear, talking to herself like she always does. She's very, very vocal, which I like (save for some small instances here and there), and I think she was using her voice to wake me. It worked.

It's always weird to wake up and see BB sleeping in the bed next to me. Once I woke and stretched and, in putting my arms back down, brushed/bumped her forehead with my elbow. She didn't wake up, though. Just stirred. Sometimes she wakes, smiles at me, shakes her head around a little, and then goes back to sleep. Today she was there in bed, as Megan had left her there with me when she went to work. Probably smart--BB tends to wake up when being transferred from bed to crib.

Okay! Where am I going with this. BB is a good sleeper--that's my point. And for this, I count my lucky stars every day. Her digestion issues are lessening, but not disappearing. She still urps up all the time, but it's always in smaller and smaller amounts. I still get puked on at least three times a day, though. It just doesn't tend to get our clothes soaking wet like it used to. This lessening of puking makes me hypothesize her tummy isn't trying to claw its way out of her so much, thereby letting her stay more comfortable and sleep deeper and for longer periods of time.

Today, and either yesterday or the day before, I stayed with her and held her hands as she closed her eyes and drifted away into sleep. My back was killing me as I have to bend over at about a 90 degree angle to do this--I rest my rib cage on the crib wall, sorta, and try to take as much stress off my back as I can. I used to do this every day with Lucy, during the day, when she was still sleeping in the crib (till about 1.5yrs). I'd feel so bad about her being alone that I'd stand there for anywhere from 2 to 25 minutes, depending on the day, and hold her hands as she fell asleep.

...if I only knew then what I know now.

For BB, most of the time I do everything the same by putting her in the crib and bestowing her with blankets and pacifier, and sort of standing there and talking to and looking at her, but usually at that point I leave the room and let her fall asleep alone. She always does, too. Sometimes it takes longer than others. Sometimes there's lots of crying, sometimes there's none.

I remember my dad, who is a therapist and understands these things, that the first three months of a child's life are huge in terms of development. They learn many instincts at that age, including trust. A child must trust her parent to be there when the fear and uncertainty take over, which is (I think) a lot for newborns and babies. I used to think that applied to naptime, too. NO MORE!

Kids also need to learn to trust themselves, and not to rely on their parents as crutches. So a kid who learns to fall asleep on its own is probably gonna be less scared of everyday realities, right?

For example, Lucy is terrified of bubbles. Saw it last night at a birthday party. She cowers from them. Who knows where that stems from.

The main reason I let BB fall asleep on her own, save for the few precious occasions I take the time to stay with her during the process, is because I don't have all the time in the world any more!

The end.

I'm inside my own head

Okay it's gonna take me probably about 6,000 times longer to write this than it did to think it...
...there, it's gone.
...it's back! Okay, I'm sitting here at the kitchen table with my laptop and this school folder and this cup of coffee and BB's sleeping and Lucy's watching Diego and it's 9:50 a.m. Lucy comes in here and talks to me and I'm more than happy to talk to her, surprisingly, to me. I don't know why. I think it's cause I was absorbed in my online dealings and she snapped me out of it and I my gear-shifting from concentrating mode to I'm happy to talk to my wonderful daughter mode was really sudden. My reflex with mental gear-shifts like this tells me to brace for discomfort, but this time I felt only joy, and because of it, a greater sense of self-control, because weathering mental storms like this has, just as suddenly as the gear-shift that inspired this epiphany occurred, become easier to control.

Okay, but that's not what I wanted to write. That's not the split-second thought I had. It lead up to it, though. The thought I had at the beginning of the writing of this entry containing bloggitude is ... not complicated, but the process by which I came to it is important; integral to its being. In an effort to explain briefly how I came upon it, let me say that (first) I realized (after my short conversation with Lucy) that this whole having-2-kidz thing is really time-consuming. Just with the menial, thoughtless tasks I have to do, like changing diapers and bottle feeding and junk, all my time in the morning (almost) is taken up. My day begins when BB wakes up (Lucy's much easier to take care of. Morning ritual: 1) two graham crackers and a cup of milk. 2) Make coffee/I'm done w/morning ritual.) This fact, seemingly obvious, was a little new to me.

It lead me to realize that, with skool starting on

It's now 12:46 p.m. I have completely lost that train of thought. Since the writings previous to this line, I have fed BB a bottle, put her down for another nap, and took a bath with Lucy. Now we're clean.

Okay. Here's the gist: babies keep me busy, but it's a good kind of busy, and it kind of keeps me happy. I have my study time clearly laid out for me, and everything, if my prediction is correct, will more or less fall into place.

Time for me to fill my growling belly.

B4BBWakes

I'm fucking in love with Yo Gabba Gabba. Best kids show ever. Sesame Street is good and everything, but it's a different animal. Gabba is more... tasty. New. For today's kids. Really beautiful. Not as blatantly wholesome and pure as other shows. It gets crazy and trippy. It goes wild. Really awesome stuff.

Yo Gabba Gabba: good for the kids, tolerable for the parents.

The kitchen is a mess here. I was able to do some light cleaning just to make room on the kitchen table. I even put a growth chart on the wall of Lucy's room today to get it off the buffet, where it was taking up room and laying open so that Elmo was staring at me with those creepy globe eyes and that gaping maw. Had to use a tape measure to put the bottom exactly two feet off the floor.

Before putting it away, curiosity got the best of me and I measured my own height. Put the pencil on top of my head and marked the wall and it was 5'11.5"! I'm so tall.

Lucy keeps asking me if I want to draw an elephant. She loves me to draw elephants for her, and to pick the color of the elephant. Okay, hold on, I've got to draw one so I'm not totally ignoring her.

She said, after I was done, "Draw ewfan by self!" Ah, the fostering of independence. I love my girls. Today BB and Lucy were on the couch watching Gabba together. So cute. It's one thing I can leave BB alone with: the tv. God help us all. She'll grow up a fat mockery of humanity, living in a trailer with 7 kids, all of them fat, and she'll be watching her soaps all day, laying in a hammock inside her living room. In Alabama.

The fridge just stopped making noise and Lucy says, "All done refrigerator!" Then, "It's not making lots of noises!"


She's getting really good at saying what things aren't. Like, "It's not a purple Netflix! It's red!"

I'll ask her what color her milk is. No, never mind. I need to make her some food and wash the dishes b4BBwakes.

Then we'll go to the park, where I'll probably be pushing the stroller with one hand, and carrying my coffee (not a travel mug) in the other, and craning my neck around halfway to make sure Lucy is still trailing ambly behind us.

We just had a laugh together that I want to tell you about. After I wrote that last graf, she said something like, "Fall down, and she's crying!"

"Oh no!" I said. "Someone fell down and got hurt?" She was coloring in her Hello Kitty coloring book, so I thought she was going to refer to some character on the page.

"Yeah?"

"Oh no! Who fell down? Who's crying?"

"You!"

I laughed. She laughed. Her smile is beautiful and radiant. How is she such a pretty girl?

IAMSOHAPPYWALKING THRUTHEGLASS

So today ... uh. Gabba Gabba is distracting.

So today Megan is going to set out on her own and strike it rich in California.
GOLD RUSH !!!
No, but seriously, yeah, no, yeah, Megan is being required to join her other co-workers on an overnight business-morale-togetherness-in-employment ... thing.

She'll be in Port Townsend. It's 10:09 right now. She'll be leaving at 12:30, and returning tomorrow at around the same time. What this means for this dad is one blessed 24-hr period of straight child care.

It shouldn't be too hard. I know I can do it. I'll have to stay focused and energetic. I'm least looking forward to waking up at night with BB and giving her a bottle. Putting them down for naps, taking care of them, and just generally being awesome, comes naturally to me.

Usually when Megan comes home from work I can sorta pass BB off to her. I feel a little bad about it, cause she's the one who's been working all day, and then she comes home and has to take care of a baby until bedtime. But I have to remember that my day involves a bit of work too. It doesn't feel so much like work anymore. It's like working at home. But your coworkers (kids) are at home with you. They LIVE with you! Freaky.

The argument that taking care of kids all day is a full-time job isn't exactly accurate. You get to sit down for little bits here and there and watch tv or do whatever. You get breaks. There's no managers or other coworkers to watch out for. No rules to worry about breaking. (maybe that stops when they stop taking naps....)

But I don't exactly live like a mom with a man that doesn't lift a finger to help the kids out after he gets home from work. My partner comes home from work and needs to empty her boobs of precious milk.

Listen to me. The one who stays home with the kids 5 days per week is saying that it's not a full-time job. I guess I'm comparing it to all the jobs I've ever had, where you have to work with your muscles more and stay on task and move fast for 8 hours straight. It's not like taking care of kids, where you need to use your emotional output algorhythms and be gentle, yet firm. It's more like a balancing act, whereas working in the real world (service industry-type jobs anyway) is like punching through a brick wall.

I remember working at Safeway, stocking shelves. There was never an end to the work that needed to be done. Or working at Pies and Pints, where I had to bust my ass and move fast, fast, fast to get all the food out in time. Staying at home with kids is much, much easier. Maybe it's easier for me to use my emotions than my brute force. I dunno. What I'm trying to say is-- uh. Hm.

What am I trying to say. ??

Taking care of kids is indeed a job, but it's very different than a service-industry job. Big revelation.

One thing that makes me feel better about the impending evening: I can play as much metal as I want.