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Up too early

Published July 18, 2013 bling blog , everyday , Madisonia , toddler stuff 2 Comments

These days, Bear is getting up criminally early. If we were able to get her to sleep until 7 am, I would probably break down in tears of happiness. And confusion. Usually, she gets up sometime in the 5 am to 5:45 am zone. I recently discovered that if I give her a bottle, and tell her to go back down to sleep, she will sleep (or at least lie down) until anywhere between 6:15 and 6:45. Oy. And yes – I know she’s not supposed to have a bottle in bed (and maybe not even a bottle at all at her age. Her age! Can you imagine?!) – but when the clock is screaming 5 something, and I can barely make my eyes adjust to the world – a bottle she gets. [Sometimes the bottle has milk, sometimes it has water.] UPDATE: We are experimenting with not going to her until the first number on the clock is a 6. She has been strong-willed in her crying, but with the amazing video monitor we can see that she lies back down. And then gets up again. Very Chumbawamba of her.

When it’s a week day, whoever gets up with her just sort of lazily hangs out in the living room, reading old sections of the Sunday Times or watching whatever is on the telly at that hour. Earlier this week, AO read the US Weekly on getting ready for the royal baby. I’ve been watching some Tour de France, adding the word pelaton to my vocabulary. When it’s a weekend morning, we try to get out of the house so that (a) it’s something more fun than our living room and (b) the other person can get some much-needed sleep. On Saturday, AO took her to the westside farmers’ market and for breakfast at HyVee. [Sidenote: Aaron recently asked me, “Do you think because we had Molly last year, the opening of the HyVee is the most exciting thing to happen to us this year?”] Because it’s summer, there’s a lot of options on the weekends. Even with lots of options, though, there’s still a limit to what time those options start. In taking the Sunday shift this week, I worried I’d be at a disadvantage. What opens at 7 on a Sunday? Bear and I headed out the door shortly before 7, saying goodbye to a sleeping Grace-a-fur, to see what we could see.

I decided to drive to Hubbard Avenue because I thought they might be open and I thought they might tolerate us and because I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. I first noticed that there are a lot of people who walk their dogs at 7 am on a Sunday. I mean, maybe not a LOT, but a lot more than I would have thought. It turns out Hubbard doesn’t open until 7:30 on Sundays, so Bear and I took a few laps around downtown Middleton, checking in with Trulia on the few houses we noticed for sale. At 7:33, I parked the car in front of the restaurant and released Bear from her five-point harness. A grandpa-looking figure was walking towards the front doors with a toddler beside him. I immediately felt I’d made the right choice. After Bear finally decided to make her way through the doors, we were seated at a table and given a basket of crayons and a paper coloring menu. I think a lightbulb actually appeared over my head: this place is ok with kids. I mean, I know the staff is made up of individuals – some of whom may love kids, others maybe not so much – but as a whole, I felt welcomed. I’m sure I sound like a dunderhead talking about this, and I’m certainly not articulating it well, but I want to be conscious of where I take Bear and make sure we’re not unduly annoying people while, at the same time, getting out and about in the world. Alright, so, anyway, we settle in and Bear orders the one egger, which is one egg (didn’t see that coming, did you?), a piece of bacon, hash browns and a biscuit. Yes, it’s a ridiculous amount of food for a 16-month old, but I like that she had choices on her plate.

Bear with her breakfast

Bear with her breakfast

She really enjoyed the bacon and the biscuit, preferring to chomp right into it instead of letting me break it apart. I don’t really blame her. I’m sure I’m going to sound like whatever is worse than a dunderhead when I say that I was shocked by how many people were at the restaurant. I mean, when we walked in, I was certain we would be only the second group of people there (after the grandpa + granddaughter duo), but no – there were probably at least five other tables with peeps enjoying coffee and conversation, or maybe the morning paper. Or both! There was no stopping these early birds. And people kept coming in. I even saw a young, 20-something couple and the woman was fully made up. A couple of groups of five or six friends were getting together in what seemed like mini-reunions. Some couples came in and chatted with other couples they knew.

It seemed like we had inadvertently stumbled upon the happiest place on earth.* I’m pretty sure we’ll be back soon.

After breakfast, we drove downtown and parked by The Plaza. We walked down State Street to the Terrace where I thought we would see some ducks. Nope, no ducks. Were they still sleeping? We walked back up State Street to the Square. I sort of felt like we were seeing what happens in the theater as they’re getting ready for the play to start in a couple of hours. I felt like I was seeing behind the scenes, into a world that is obviously always there, but one which I was never aware of. I’ve lived here my whole life. I worked on State Street for years. I’ve worked on the Square for almost nine years. I don’t think, though, that I’ve ever been downtown on a stiflingly hot, Sunday at 8:30 am. It was fascinating.

This weekend it’ll be Up Too Early: the Saturday edition.

 *Bear broke that spell, though, when I dared to change her in the bathroom. I tried to tell her, “There’s no crying at Hubbard Avenue! Didn’t you see all those smiles out there?” She calmed down once the changing was over and made herself happy again by touching every stool on her way out the door.

Breakfast at Wimbledon

Published July 6, 2013 everyday , sports , toddler stuff 2 Comments

It used to be that, too often, I would miss the Wimbledon finals because I wouldn’t get out of bed in time to catch it. This was especially true of the women’s finals (because the match is usually shorter – often significantly so). Well, goodbye to those days! This morning, I’m annoyed it’s taking so long to start! Here I am, drinking my third cup of coffee at 8:07 a.m., having been waiting patiently (or not so much) since a little after 5 a.m. Let’s get this thing started already! We’re tired of waiting…

Gracie is ready to go.

Gracie is ready to go.

Bear & Piglet, eagerly awaiting the match.

Bear & Piglet, eagerly awaiting the match.

 

Three things

Published June 30, 2013 bling blog , craptastic treatment , everyday , life and pups , toddler stuff 2 Comments

There are several things on my mind today, but I’ll bore you with only three of them.

One, today I saw something really baffling. First, let me say that it really bugs me when a parent is biking along with their child and the child is all helmet-ed up, but the parent is sans protection. For a lot of people, this is annoying because of the message it sends to the kid: when you’re old enough you, too, can choose to be an enormous idiot. And that message bugs me, too. But the bigger thing that bugs me — because, frankly, the message that adults can make choices that kids can’t is valid — is that it is a colossally dumb plan. What happens when you get hit by a car, parent? You’ve crashed and hit your head. Sure, your kid is fine. Except that she has a parent with a head injury (or is – God forbid – dead) that could have been easily avoided. Anyway, now for the even weirder behavior. Today I saw a man biking with a girl in the attached bike trailer. The girl looked about three. Maybe four. And guess what was on her head? Nothing! No helmet! Please PLEASE explain this. Actually, please don’t. I don’t want to know.

Two, (and this is completely unrelated) I saw this Kotex commercial last night that was sort of making fun of other tampon commercials. This young woman said to the camera, “How do I know if a tampon works for me? If I see a commercial with a woman dancing in circles.” Or something like that. And it was heavy with hilarious sarcasm. So the commercial then says something like, “Try our tampons. Try them for yourself. We are not pushing them in any annoying way. No gimmicks. Just try them. If you don’t love them, we’ll give you another box for free.” Uh, what? If I don’t love them … I get more of them? I’d rather just see the woman dancing.

Three, (and again, not related) Bear and I went to Target this morning because I decided I needed to suck it up and buy her a doll. She loves the dolls at day care and while I see this in her face, it never really occurred to me I needed to do something about it. And then yesterday, when we were at a friend’s house and Bear was playing with all of the little girl’s dolls, it hit me: Bear needs, and deserves, a doll. So, at 9:30 this morning, we headed to Target. I also needed some microfiber cloths to clean that damn smudge off my camera lens, FYI. We tool around the doll aisle and she alternates between jubilation and fear, which I think will seem very honest to you if you’ve seen that aisle. Anyway, fast forward to the check-out line. We place ourselves behind a couple and their son, who looks about Bear’s age. The woman leaves as if to go look for something else (though she does not return in my story and really is a red herring in this tale). The boy is being held by his dad and is looking sorta old mannish and worried; his brow is furrowed. When it’s their time to check out, the check out clerk coos over the boy. She says, “What’s your name?” and “He’s so cute!” I kinda think she’s laying it on a little thick. I mean, the kid is cute because he’s a little kid, but he’s not the kind of kid that makes people ooo and ahh. Unless maybe you’re the type of person that ooos and ahhs over every kid. Which she must be, right? Then she amps it up even more, asking the boy if he’d like a sticker. She holds the sticker out to him, gently, patiently, kindly. The kid takes the sticker. The clerk is glowing. Glowing, that is, until we start the check out process. Then it’s all, “Do you need a bag for this?” That’s. It. No, “How old is she?” No, “What’s her name?” Certainly no, “She’s so cute!” And absolutely no sticker transaction. I put on a brave face for Bear, of course, but Dear Reader, what the what was that? How. Rude.

Regime or regimen: What’s your system?

Published March 25, 2013 bling blog , everyday 11 Comments

I’ve recently come to the conclusion that I can’t keep pretending I’m 24 and that my skin is doing ok with just a daily (or so) dose of Olay’s* Complete face lotion for sensitive skin. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the lotion — I still like it — but it’s no longer enough to do the trick. I don’t know if I’m eating something different, if it’s been the jogging in the cold weather, if it’s post-partum life, if it’s always been bad and I just ignored it before, or if it’s this prolonged winter, but my skin needs work. I mean, really, people. It’s a wonder no one has said anything.**

So, I am turning to you, Dear Readers, for some guidance. My research on the Google machine has turned up what appear to be a couple of general truths: (1) I really need to be exfoliating and (2) adding a Retinol-infused product might not hurt. The thing is, though, is that all I need to know? Because I still have a million questions.

Yesterday I decided to purge some of the contents of a make-up drawer and a shelf with facial products. I found, though, a product I thought I should get back to using. “Get back to using” is a bit of an overstatement as not much had been used. So, I splashed some warm water on my face and lightly scrubbed Dove’s Gentle Exfoliating Foaming Facial Cleanser into my skin. I rinsed and applied the Olay staple. I thought, how often should I be using the exfoliator? The product says it’s to be used daily and specifically states, “Created gentle enough to use daily,” but is this true? Or would it be better to space it out? Or would it be better still to buy a heftier exfoliator that isn’t intended for daily use? I have no idea. I quickly realized, though, that my Dove product has been discontinued. I’m not going to get into when it was discontinued; let’s just say this product has clearly been on my shelf for awhile. Ok, so I need more info on exfoliation.

Today I headed to Walgreens (one of my least favorite stores but until they put a Sephora or a Target or – a girl can dream – an independent drug or make-up store on the Square, it’s Walgreens I find myself in to solve my daily product problems) for a Retinol product. At first, I headed to the small Roc section because the internet-verse suggested Roc for all things Retinol. I soon realized, though, that a million brands carry Retinol products: L’Oreal, Neutrogena, Garnier, Olay, and more. This was good and bad news. More choices should create price competition, which is especially helpful for ignoramus consumers like me, but more choices means more choices, which isn’t super helpful for ignoramus consumers like me who know little more than they are looking for something with Retinol. Ugh. After picking up and carrying around more than half a dozen products, I finally settled upon Neutrogena’s Rapid Tone Repair Moisturizer (Night). But now I’m confused. Should I put on lotion after I use this product? Can it go on when I get home from work (when I’m more likely to use it properly) or is it best to go on right before bed? Really, I’m in need of some serious assistance.

With these things in mind, I come to you. What do you use and how do you like it? What have you rejected and why? Do you feel like some products are good for some things, say anti-acne and anti-shine, but they create other problems like, say, flaking? No piece of advice or observation is too small. Please share your thoughts – I’m so interested.

In thinking about a skin care regimen, I almost always think of this priceless bit of dialogue from The Truth about Cats and Dogs in which Janeane Garofalo socks it to the woman working a department store’s make-up counter.

Make-up counter woman: We also have this new face cream which neutralizes the free radicals that attack the skin. Let me ask you: what’s your skin regime?

Abby (JG): My regime? The regime from which the radicals are trying to get free? Are we selling face cream or staging a coup?

I’ve always thought that was pretty funny.

*When did they drop the “Oil of”? I assume it was done in a sort of KFC rebranding way: Let’s take “Fried” out of our title and maybe people will feel better eating here. Let’s take “Oil of” out of the equation so those with oily skin don’t rule us out as an option.

**At least no one has said anything to my face.

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