Hill Smith Family Update

Dearest Little Dude -

Mommy and Daddy love you very much, and frequently lament the lack of hours in the day to spend with you. This being said, as much as we love you, it is very difficult on us to spend the hours of 12-2 am trying to cajole you to go back to sleep! (At least when you used to wake up to be nursed, you would go back to sleep - this is insane tonight!)

Daddy slept through most of it, but Mommy has been awake this entire time, and won’t get the opportunity to copy your mid-day nap tomorrow.

We tried to pacify you, by bringing you into our bed, but the head-butting, kicking, squirming and climbing just wasn’t conducive to sleep. Mommy tried to snuggle with you on the couch and rock you, but you squirmed and chattered, and sleep just wasn’t going to happen.

You now have a fresh diaper, some liquid in your tummy and you’ve been cuddled and kissed.

Please stop talking and go to sleep. And since you’ve missed about two hours, could you rouse us later than usual later this morning?

We love you,

Your parents.

Telephones are a big deal around here.

Little Dude has studied the Hubby and I talking on the phone - be it the cell or home phone - and loves getting his hands on a phone so he can do the same thing.

It isn’t unusual to see him walking through the house, holding one of his four toy phones (Don’t look at us - he kept getting them as gifts!) to his ear, chattering away. In fact, he frequently hands us the phones or holds them to our ears so we can talk.

Because he kept trying to steal our cell phones or the home phone, we gave him an old cell phone to include in his collection. But it really doesn’t matter - he wants one of the “real ones,” and is always on the lookout for when we slip-up and leave one within reach.

He prides himself in knowing how to turn on all of our phones(this actually scares me, as he is way too observant and smart), and if he manages to get the TV remote, that is considered a phone as well. Actually - my iPod, my handheld PDA and my camera have all been held to his ear at one point or another.

When he hands me one of his phones, I usually pretend I’m having a conversation with a cartoon character or that it is a wrong number. But I have to wonder - what is going through his mind and who does he think we are talking to?

He’s “talked” to grandparents on the real phone, and he’s even “talked” to me when I’ve been at work. The Hubby enjoys talking to him, too, so is he imagining that we are on the other end of all of these phone conversations?

Will we need to be getting him a cell phone at the age of three, since he will have phone etiquette down to a science?

He’s already figured out that I have a new cell phone, and keeps trying to score some playtime with it. (By the way, I upgraded to an LG Shine. It was one of the free phones I could choose from within my plan, and it was shiny and pretty, plus had the features I wanted for now. Yes, the girl side of me loves shiny, pretty objects, and is easily distracted by them. I’ll let you know how I like it after I have a chance to play with it more.) And I was going to give him my old cell phone, but the phone salesperson recommended I keep that one as a back-up, just in case something were to happen to the new phone (and judging by everything that has happened to my electronics in the past six months, I think it would be wise for me to have a back-up…).

I thought we had a future electrical engineer or electrician on our hands, but I’m now starting to think we may have a future telemarketer! Eek!

Is there anything sweeter than listening to your little boy babble happily to you, in a language only he seems to understand, but somehow expects you to answer?

Only when that same little boy happily comes and plants a wet kiss on your lips, and then smothers you in a hug.

Some days are made completely perfect by such small actions, and it is good to be the mommy of this little boy.

p.s. This little boy is eating us out of house and home right now. He has got to be going through a growth spurt.

“Not a problem,” I thought, as I quickly went over all of the paperwork to complete.

I’m applying for a certification relating to my career, which involved a fairly brief form, easily answered by using an up-to-date copy of my resume, as well as a few write-ups regarding projects in which I’ve been involved. It took a bit of time and effort, but it wasn’t the worst application I’ve had to complete.

And then I came to this part of the rules for application:

“Include a recent photograph and brief biography (250 words or less) for potential use in presentation materials.”

Aak.

I know I blog, and enjoy sharing stories about me, the Hubby, Little Dude, Supercat, the world around us, my opinions, etc., but to seriously write a career-related biography? Ick. Ick. Ick. And they want a recent picture? (Did I mention, “ick?”)

First, regarding the biography - when I write about myself, I’m used to being funny and poking fun at the mistakes I’ve made. If you look at my list of 100 things, most of it has to do with my likes and dislikes, my goofiness and sentimental side, and it is just for fun. I really have a difficult time bragging about my professional career and accomplishments, because I’m pretty certain someone is about to smack me up aside the head if I do, and tell me to stop being so full of myself.

Sadly, I knew they probably wouldn’t accept, “I went to school. I got a degree. I became gainfully employed within this industry and have been here ever since.”

In the end, I wrote up something fairly cheesy (I think), asked one of my copywriting friends to proof it (she didn’t laugh too much, but did leave little teary-eyed faces near the area where I waxed poetic regarding our current employer), and that is that. Truthfully, I don’t think it really described me - at least not the real me.

As for the picture, don’t get me started on that, but hopefully this one works.

Yes, Bee, that is your necklace I’m wearing!

Even though I’m a procrastinator, I’m happy to say the application went in the mail on Tuesday, and it was due to its destination on Friday. Via the US Postal Service’s tracking device, it appears my package was delivered yesterday, nicely ahead of schedule.

For now I hope I’m approved, and wait until September or October to find out if I’m certified. At the same time, I sit and stew over that biography and picture. Ick.

Have you ever had to write a biography about yourself (excluding the “about you” section in your blog)? Is there an easy way to do this?

Yes, I’m guilty… I spent my teenage years trying to acquire the perfect tan. I would lay in the sun for hours, with baby oil or some other tanning oil covering every bare square of my body. Sunscreen? Never. That would slow down my ability to tan…

In my 20s, while in college, I discovered tanning beds and tanning booths. For a very low fee (college town - we could find tanning deals for under $1/session), I could get that same tan by just popping in for minutes every other day for a week. I was living on no sleep, caffeine and the power of a five-minute tan, those days…

Why the obsession with tanning, some may ask? And I would reply with the following question - Did you know that tan cellulite looks better than pale cellulite?

Tanning was an instant boost to my self-esteem. Also, I have an olive complexion, thanks to the little bit of French blood running through my veins, which means I tan easily and nicely - rarely burning.

I’m now in my 30s, and I’ve worked in a field closely tied to healthcare for more than a decade. I have read all of the facts. I’ve talked to many physicians. I’ve talked even more to patients - including those who have battled many forms of cancer.

If I could go back in time, I would yank that dumb little girl out of the sun and slap her.

These days, my idea of a tan comes from a bottle. Sunless tanners… Though not perfect, they are better than the alternative. As for Little Dude, he is slathered with sunscreen if we so much as think about letting him breathe the air from outside. The Hubby doesn’t listen, but I do the best I can to encourage sunscreen use by him as well.

In a couple of weeks, I get to visit the dermatologist to determine if I will pay a huge price for my years of sun-worship.

So, we all know the damage that tanning can cause, yet I still see a lot of women of various ages heading into the tanning salons. Some of the women my age look closer to 50-years-old, with skin that now looks like leather. It isn’t attractive, and it makes me wonder - Is tanning addicting or a disease, similar to the anorexic who is a skeleton, but can still only see herself as fat? What drives these women, who look horrible, to continue to tan?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Edited to add: I’ve had a few emails asking which sunless tanner I like best, as it appears I’m not the only one who thinks cellulite looks better when it isn’t pale and pasty.

Jergens seems to do the best job and have the best even results, from my experience. On top of that, you can find it at most stores and the price is very reasonable (comparable to a regular bottle of lotion).

I’ve tried everything from bronzers (Victoria’s Secret ones were a disaster!) to other tanning sprays, wipes, lotions, etc., and I’m incredibly picky since somehow, a tan from a bottle just doesn’t feel as good as the “real” tans I used to get. (Yes, those would be the ones that are dangerous to my health and do nothing to promote healthy skin.)

If I haven’t used Jergens Natural Glow lotion in a few days or months, I will use one to two days of Jergens Natural Glow Express to speed up the process. Warning: The express version does tend to leave more streaks than the regular Natural Glow, so try it a few times in the winter, before you actually want to go out with it on.

It was green - pulled straight out of a comic book’s color palette, yet set in a surrounding worthy of a poet. The yard was a corner lot, with old trees and a stream running along the back property line.

At the time, I was single, with just Supercat to call my own.

This tiny, 750-square-foot house, with two minuscule bedrooms, one 50s-style bathroom (complete with original black and white tile, which I’m sure contained asbestos), and a lot of work needed, appealed to me. It called out to me to fix it and to make it a home again.

The bedrooms could barely hold a twin bed and a dresser each, and the bedroom closets could be mistaken for broom closets. The kitchen was narrow, with barely room to turn around, but would work since I have never been a gourmet chef. The living room was closer to the size of my college dorm room, but would hold a couch and a small TV. The basement was dark and scary, with repairs needed to the walls.

My grandfather said he would help me upgrade the electricity and some of the other areas of concern. My parents promised help in the foundation crack/stair footing repair. I quickly made a list of all of the absolute repairs and the dream remodels, and made an offer.

I low-balled the offer, knowing how much work the house needed and that it had been sitting for a while. The seller turned me down, with a counter-offer that was much too high. I countered once more, but this time I was turned down flat. No counter-offer.

The house eventually did sell at a much-reduced rate, and I was still envious of the stream that ran along the back edge of the property and the funky black and white bathroom.

And then, just last year, that house got flooded. It wasn’t exactly a small amount of water, either.

Due to construction in a nearby area, the normal flow of water through that stream and area was disrupted and the basement completely filled with water.

I feel bad for the current owner, and am somewhat relieved that I didn’t own the house.

But I occasionally wonder what it would be like now, as a family to live in that small house. The three of us packed cozily into that tiny abode. Material possessions would be fewer and time spent in separate places would be reduced - you can’t hide in a smaller house.

Would we be as happy? I would like to think that we would be happier, actually, although in truth, we would probably be craving some time apart. I could do without some of the possessions though. (Seriously, would anyone like to borrow my plethora of knick-knacks, which still happen to be in boxes, since I really have had issues with clutter lately?)

I ended up on this trip down memory lane and stopped by the land of “what-ifs” though, because of the economy. I wonder if we would feel the impact of the higher prices as greatly, if we were packed into that tiny house? We would definitely have had more disposable income, as the price of that house was much less than the house we built, but then I realize we probably would have sold that house and moved into the house the Hubby owned at the time, anyway.

But again, would we be as impacted by the economic shifts if we had stayed in the Hubby’s house, even?

The Hubby has reassured me that it would probably have been no different, since we were looking to finish the basement and put on a deck, had we stayed in his place - both items that would have quickly added up. Plus the other maintenance items that we would have needed to address as they popped up - carpets, roof, etc…

So I go back to my little cottage, so perfect and tiny in my mind’s eye, and sit quietly by the stream that could-have-been, and wonder… What if?

(I’m feeling a bit introspective lately, especially with the economic challenges facing so many of us. How is the current economy impacting you, or isn’t it?)

I know I did this back in February, but I thought I would update it, and try it again, especially since I had more up-to-date pictures of all of us.

MyHeritage: Family tree - Genealogy - Celebrity - Collage - Morph

And back in February…

MyHeritage: Look-alike Meter - Family search - Free genealogy

Looks like the Hubby and I have to share him fairly, now…

I’m going to keep this brief tonight, as I need some downtime and then some sleep. Little Dude decided he would only nap a half hour today. (In other words - as much as I love my little boy, I adore the couple hours he naps during the day, when I can recover from the busy morning, get a few things done and maybe rest for a moment myself, if I’m lucky.)

The patient report:

Little Dude - Fully recovered. Healthy, active and no signs of Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease.

Supercat - Taking medications and acting fairly normal. Urine output looks good (but it is hard to see if there is more blood in the litter, although he isn’t straining or peeing anywhere inappropriately). Has spent two nights in the basement, but will be allowed upstairs tonight. Will be in basement while we are at work tomorrow, at least.

Hubby - Still no signs of sickness.

Me - Feet still hurt, but the pain is slightly less. A few more blisters appeared on my hands today (doesn’t that sound attractive?), but the ones in my mouth seem to be healing and bothering me less. No more fevers and will do the best I can to walk in dress shoes for work tomorrow.

I’m thankful we all appear to be healthy or getting there, but I’m a bit bummed that this occurred over a gorgeous weekend. I would have loved to take Little Dude to our neighborhood park, or just go for a walk with him and the Hubby. Sadly, I don’t own a scooter or a wheelchair, though, which is what I would have needed.

Thanks for all the well-wishes, and I’m hoping to put Miss Gloom-and-Doom behind me for a while! You have all been most excellent bloggy friends.

Now, on a quick techy note… I have to upgrade my cell phone in the near future.I cannot afford the iPhone right now, so am just looking for a fun, nice, reliable phone. Has anyone had any luck with LG phones? If so, which model? Thank you!

See this little face?

Or this one?

What a goof! It is fun to watch him play with his expressions though!

No matter what you read about Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease, there is one piece of information I’ve been unable to find…

What do I do about the foot pain?!?!?!?!?

The mouth blisters? Painful and you lose your appetite, yes, but manageable. The hand blisters? Annoying and make me overly sensitive to any temperatures or textures, but again, manageable. The foot blisters? I JUST WANT TO CUT MY FEET OFF ABOVE THE ANKLES! SERIOUSLY.

I spent my day laughing at myself, or I would have been crying, as it has to be the most bizarre sight to watch me walk across the house at any given time. I look like I’m learning to walk or someone stole the walker I should be using, and I wince at the slightest misstep. We won’t even mention the screams of agony if someone, like a cute young man, accidentally steps on me or shoves a toy into my foot. It hurts so much! (Does anyone have a walker they would be willing to share for a bit? Just kidding…)

I’m not writing this to garner sympathy, as much as I wanted to share with parents this fact, just in case Hand, Foot and Mouth visits a child near to their hearts. Be aware that even if you can barely see a blister or two on the feet, chances are there are more, and yes, it truly hurts to walk - even just a little bit.

After going through this, I totally understand why Little Dude was so upset shortly after the rash/blisters appeared. This is total misery, and if I had someone to carry me, I would so be in my bed right now. But, I’m here in the office, getting up the courage to finish that walk to the bedroom, and giving my aching feet a rest.