We are no longer a co-sleeping family.

Well, I just lost a little bit of my crunchy-mom cred. If you need me, I'll be putting a bird on something.

Alice is now sleeping full time in the crib/converted daybed. Now the bed has been used by all of my children AND my cousin's two kids. That kind of makes me feel good in a full-circle, family kind of way.

BUT HOLY SWEET JESUS ON A RUBBER CRUTCH. NOT AS GOOD AS STRETCHING OUT FULLY IN MY BED/NOT HAVING MY HAIR PULLED ALL NIGHT LONG BY A MUMBLING, INCOHERENT SLEEP TYRANT!

It is funny how the whole thing happened too. We have talked with Alice extensively about moving into her own digs, and while she seemed ok with it in theory lots of times, in practice it was a whole 'nother ballgame. We would talked to her and get her excited about making the space "hers"--adding special blankets and toys and what have you. Then she would revolt, and I would feel so horrible that I would welcome her squirmy little body back into my personal space. Then she weaned herself. Still, even though she wasn't using me for the occasional nighttime comfort nurse, she seemed to NEED my hair. I started thinking about cutting it off and gluing it on a Dora doll for her. I started sleeping more and more on the couch, but only if I could pry myself away from her incessant little grasp. I was (even more) tired all the time and starting to really resent the bed partner.

And then, magically, on Friday, she just up and said she wanted to sleep in "[her] bed." It had become a repository for stuffed animals, unused blankets and a few unmatched socks, so Matt joyfully cleaned it off for her and we made it up with the softest and prettiest blankets we could find. I still fully expected her to go back on it. But then Friday night, after several Olivia books and an interminable amount of time spent discussing the finer points of Sesame Street, she was asleep. She made it until about 4:30 and then rejoined us. On Saturday night, though, she slept undisturbed all night long, and then walked into the living room and peacefully played with a dollhouse until I woke up, heard someone in the living room, and went running in there like a mad woman. I'm just glad she wasn't wearing a hoodie at the time, because sometimes children look mega-scary, you know? And I can't guarantee that when I'm scared, I won't violently disembowel someone. AMIRITE?

I can't tell you just how amazing it is to be able to stick my ass out at night and know that Matt is on the other side of it. We had not really snuggled in 2.5 years, ya'll (except for the odd vacation/kid's night at my MIL's). I even didn't mind when he tried to wake me up to have sex/tell me something dumb about a book he's reading (I normally don't mind either of those things, except when I am sleeping the sleep of a thousand nights or when they are related in some weird way, which it seems they were the other night? Maybe?). I HAD MISSED THAT. I feel about sleeping now the way I felt after I ate really good tiramisu for the first time--I literally cannot wait to do it again.

All that said, I am not anti-co-sleeping at all. It worked for us for a good long while, and actually, I was able to get more sleep in the first year than I would have been able to any other way. Allie is a good kid, and a good sleeper (aside from talking in her sleep--more about that later). Did co-sleeping make her that way? Maybe. Maybe not. We never had to deal with a night of her crying it out (which I did with Gabby and it.was.horrible. Poor kid had sleep issues until she went to school because of it), nor did we have to deal with the kind of sleep issues Sam had, which mostly had to do with him getting up at odd hours in the middle of the night deadset on eating popcorn and watching Cars. I would advocate any kind of sleeping you can get your kid to do. If it is co-sleeping, AWESOME. If it is putting them in the back of a Peugeot and driving them around while singing James Taylor until they conk and then putting them in a crib, GREAT (note: that is the only way my mom could get me to sleep, apparently).

I think I've said it before, but my grand experience with more natural parenting has taught me that it is best to be super non-judgmental about any kind of parenting choice. You do what you do because you think it will work. And then you reevaluate. And you put up with some discomfort because you want your kid to be happy/healthy/better off. And then they change whatever it was that you wanted them to change and you realize that things do, indeed, work out. When they are good and ready to do so.

And now without further adieu, I present to you the wacky and bizarre things Alice has said in her sleep in her first nights out on her own. Apparently, if she doesn't have my hair to fondle/yank, she dreams about some weird crap and talks about it. And it is awesome:

• Kiss me! I'm sleeping beauty!
• I'm hungry, but no doughnuts!
• Mommy here. She bite me.
• garble, garble, garble BOOTS!
• Rosita say Buenes NOCHES!

Earthy Mom Reality

I recently read this article and I wanted to write about it. I actually wanted to post it to Facebook too, to remind us all that indeed, everything will be ok, but my husband seems to think there is a special place in Hell reserved for people who post articles from European publications on Facebook ("It just shows you are too pretentious to post the same pretentious articles that everyone else posts from the Times," he said after a few glasses of wine one evening). You all, my gentle readers, are a much more forgiving audience. And it, of course, relates to my life and current experience, and since this is my party, here you go.

I have been pretty crunchy with Alice. I cloth diaper, I am still breastfeeding her at two, I co-sleep, we did Baby Led Weaning and buy wooden toys when we can and I bake my own preservative free bread and when my kid gets a fever, I put potatoes in her socks (for real-this works!). I have bought books and more books and yogurt makers and Rockin' Green detergent and essential oils and now Amazon thinks I am a dirty hippie, apparently, as they no longer recommend me mascara but instead Bac-Out and diaper sprayers. I have done it some to save money, some because I thought it best, and yes, I'll admit, some just to see if I could.

And I'll admit as well that there is a certain amount of self-righteousness that goes into it too. I come home from work and after the initial mild anxiety attack about starting my "second job," I get a lot of pleasure from stuffing the diapers, from snuggling the still sweet baby in bed. "Look how good I am," I think. "I could have just bought a box of Pampers, but here I sit, stuffing away, saving money." And yes, I suppose I am, but it is not like I am funneling all that money away into a college fund somewhere. I bought a bunch of eye shadow this week.

Holding hands with that self-righteousness, skipping along beside, however, comes its cousin, Parental Judgement. I try not to judge people for their parenting choices at all, but I still catch myself doing it. I bet we all do. "Oh, so you're giving your kid Mountain Dew....ohh....." "Your breasts are for your husband and not your baby? For real?" "Letting your kid cry it out? CONCERN-TROLL AWAY!" I never confront people about their parenting decisions--as parents we give ourselves enough guilt without some jerk giving us more, amirite?--but I can't stop my brain from thinking it.

Or maybe I can. My reality now is not that much fun, I'm not going to front. I am on my third cup of coffee of the morning right now, just on the mere hope of staying awake and performing slightly well at my job. I have not gotten a decent night's sleep in over two years. Because I co-sleep, Alice is constantly trying to "dream-feed." Although I have weened her from actually nursing during the night (mostly), she still pulls my hair almost constantly, which has always been her way of getting me awake. She does it in sleep, subconsciously, as well as saying, in sleep, "Mommy, I tire" over and over again. So every night when she starts, I go sleep on the couch and on the way there, I start thinking about something, and the next thing I know, it is 6:15 and I have totally reimagined how to organize my closet, but unfortunately, it is time to go to work, and I have not had any sleep. This is not fun. Even if she starts out the night in her crib, at some point, she wakes up enough to come to our bed and then it is all down hill. We are investigating lots of options from this point--moving her to a toddler bed, having Matt do all of the night-time bed stuff so she totally divorces the idea from me, weaning her totally--but nothing is happening fast enough. And we also struggle with the fact that we have a lot of changes coming down the pike during this year (we are planning on moving during the summer) and don't want to do too much at one time for her (we are also working on potty learning, which is something she seems totally ready for). I am trying to parent her the way I have from the beginning--by listening to her cues and doing things based on what she seems ready for--but again, it is not fast enough for me. And here I sit with my coffee, knowing that by the time 5:00 rolls around, I'll be walking in the door as a zombie, but one that is expected to make dinner (with Alice perched on the counter beside me), pick up the house, and listen interestedly as my 12 year old recounts what grievances she has against the American education system and how some other kid in her class is at best a fucktard and at worst a sociopath (my words of course).

So lately, I have caught myself thinking: "I wish I had just put her in a crib. All of this would be over by now." "I wish I didn't have to devote all that time to folding diapers on top of all this." "I wish my kids were just happy with some freaking chicken fingers and macaroni and cheese because if Sam asks for Indian food one more night this week, I'm going to kill a puppy." The judgment has started to fall away. Although there are still those times when I revel in my own crunchy awesomeness, I get it. I see all sides. I'm like this omniscient-Mommy-being with a scepter of truth and honesty and light and a perfect grilled cheese sandwich in one hand a Dora band-aid on the other.

We all make parenting decisions based on what we know at the time. We do our best. No one goes out of their way to just supremely screw up their child. We do what is best for our kid, personally. I did what I thought was best. Was it the right thing? Maybe. Could I have done it differently for a better outcome? Definitely.

It brings me great joy to know, though, that my kid will probably be ok. She'll be funny and bright and self-aware, just as she is now. She won't still be breastfeeding when she is, say 18, and I suddenly need all that money that I should have saved up by using cloth diapers. She'll be thinking about sleeping with someone else at that point, and I will dream of the days when I gazed over at her chubby-cheeked profile and brushed the rapidly growing curls away from her forehead.

And I will be ok too. I got through college, after all, on a slurry of Mountain Dew, espresso, and masochism. In the grand scheme of things, this ain't nothing.

Surviving the Family Trip to a Theme Park

When it comes to vacation, I'm much more of a lay on the beach with a book or relax in a cozy cabin kinda girl. However, when my husband and I decided to take our kids on a family vacay this summer, we knew that taking them to a theme park was going to be a must. Why? Because even if your kids spend their entire day eating pate and listening to the Boston Pops, they love those places. Theme parks are made for kids and they are ridiculously fun for them--they are filled with sugar, acceleration and water. What more can a kid want? What's more, they can be awfully fun for adults too, if you prepare well and get into the spirit. Riding the biggest, fastest roller coasters is not optional (hey, you're tall enough!).

On our trip, we visited Busch Gardens Williamsburg, which was voted the most beautiful theme park by some unknown entity probably 25 years ago. How do I know that? Because it is on every thing you will ever see about Busch Gardens. However, it is beautiful--the whole park is laid out in mock European towns. There is an Ireland, a Germany, an Italy, a France and a Scotland. If you are a really motivated parent, you could use this to talk to your kids about geography. They probably won't listen though--they will be too busy licking off that cotton candy beard they just made. Busch Gardens is a good mix of thrill rides and smaller attractions for smaller kids. They have the Griffon, which is a roller coaster that drops you straight down a 90 degree angle, as well as Elmo's Forest of Fun, which is a toddler Elysium, complete with water geysers and live Elmo shows every 30 minutes. Although infants are not allowed to ride any rides, they can ride the carousel and the train and tram with their families. Plus, there are all those geysers to crawl around in.

The most important thing to see in that last paragraph is the word "geysers." Yes, your children are going to want to crawl/walk around an area where water shoots freely from the ground 12 hours a day. Chances are, you will be with them when they do this. Therefore, you should all dress accordingly. You would not believe the kinds of things I saw people wearing inside Busch Gardens. Everything from skintight ripped pink denim (yup) to family-matching Lily Pulitzer dresses. And yes, the people I saw wearing those things looked miserable.

What you should wear: your best bet is to wear workout clothes. I wore my running stuff--a running skort and tank, both made out of spandex-y material. This stuff dries super fast, wicks and is easy to move around in. The good news is that this stuff is cheap if you don't already own it. My running skorts were $16.99 at Target--I'm able to quote this price offhand because I own 4 of these suckers and owned 3 of them in assorted other sizes. My favorite top I wore was from the Aerie Fit line , but the other top I wore I bought at Wal-Mart for $7. And...just go ahead and admit defeat and put your hair into a ponytail before you leave the house. It is going to look like crap soon anyway--just accept it. The shoe thing bring some debate in my house: for my money, wear your flip flops, but make sure they are comfortable (not the $3 flops from Old Navy). I have a pair of Reefs that I have had forever and they were perfect. You don't have to wear socks with flip flops which eliminates the whole wet sock thing. My husband, however, thinks I am insane for wearing flip flops all day. He chose to wear running shoes which he said were much more comfortable. Either way, I'd say.

What you should not wear: denim. They should hang a sign at the front gate that declares the theme park a denim free zone. I don't care how cute you think you are in denim shorts: a) you are not cute and b) even if by some miracle you are, you will be so uncomfortable. And do I really need to tell you why you shouldn't wear jeans during the summer? To a theme park? No, I didn't think so. Also you should not wear anything white (I mentioned the water, didn't I?), anything you care about that much, shoes with any kind of a platform (even platform flip flops), earrings (if you do, you will be asked to remove them on the larger rides), and dresses.

A quick note on dresses: I am usually the first one to espouse wearing a dress to any place during the summer. They are cool and always look fresh, so what's not to love? However, I saw this one lady on the log flume that changed my mind. She was so gorgeous, and was wearing the perfect summer dress--spaghetti straps and airy, about knee length. However, you should have seen her trying to arrange herself on the log flume. Yeah, that's trouble that you don't need.

What your kids should wear: Boys are easy--swimming trunks with a t-shirt. Girls will have to layer. Gab wore her bathing suit with athletic shorts and a t-shirt on top. On their feet, they wore aqua shoes. We got cheapie ones (I think they were $7 at Target), but they worked like a charm. However, on our last day we noticed that Sam had worn a hole in the heel of his. It was fine--they more than served their purpose. For babies, I put Alice in her bathing suit with a terry cloth cover up on top. Super easy to get off for when she wanted to crawl in the geysers with Elmo, and easy to put back on. Be forewarned as well--in any place where kids can just run unfettered in the water, swim diapers are a must. We used disposables all during the trip, so I didn't try cloth, but I would advise to get a package of disposables ahead of time even if you are doing cloth. The park management seems insistent on the disposable kind and they have lots of folks around watching the kids. I heard one girl talk to a dad because his kid was wearing a (bulging) regular diaper. I don't think they would call you out on the cloth, but sometimes it is better to be safe than sorry.

Now why should they wear this? Well, for one thing, if you are concerned about money in the least, you should put them in their bathing suit. You will not be able to keep them out of the water, and Busch Gardens (or any other theme park) knows this. Therefore, set up next to every watery area is a store selling swimsuits, aqua shoes, swim diapers, and cover ups. Therefore, all the people who do not put the stuff on their kids are at a huge risk for having to buy it when they get there. The lady with the girls in matching Lily Pulitzer? Yup, she was ponying up for Zoe swimsuits at the Elmo Forest of Fun. So, better safe than out $50. Save that dough for the caramel apples and ice cream (I successfully ate a banana split waffle cone for dinner both nights we were at Busch Gardens, and yes, it was amazing).

What you should take: As little as you can get away with. Pack a very small diaper bag (we used the one we got for free at the hospital when Al was born) with just the essentials. You are not allowed to take in food or water, but I took Allie in a bottle of water with a sippie and some snacks in her Boon snack ball and they didn't seem to mind. Also bring a good stroller. You see a lot of people with the big ones, but that just seems like a huge hassle, having to get it on and off the tram and other things. If you are traveling very light, they have strollers for rent that seem ok. Not cushy, but you just put your name on a card with the stroller and instead of having to load it on attractions (like the train or the tram), you just pull out the card and put it in a new stroller when you get to where you are going. Our Maclaren Quest was perfect, and I would imagine any similar model would be great. Don't worry with a carrier--you'll be taking it on and off so much that it just wouldn't be practical.

What you should know: This is where Busch Gardens gets my kudos. If you are nursing, Busch Gardens has three nursing stations set up--one in New France, one in Germany, and one in the Forest of Fun. The best one, I think, is the one in New France, although they are all nice. It is in the Lost Children center, and has a nice diaper change area, and then a nursing room with a big leather chair. Best of all, all nursing stations are air conditioned! It was such a nice respite during the day for both me and Alice--we were able to sit down together and nurse and enjoy the cool and comfort for a little while. I never had to wait at any station--I don't know if this is because people just weren't nursing their babies or because people just didn't know about the stations.

However, ask about this stuff before you get into the park. I asked at Guest Relations when I first went in and they gave me a nice map with the areas circled. However, when I got over to the Germany station to use it, I couldn't find the exact location. I asked three BG employees and none of them had even heard of it. I finally happened on it just by walking around the bathroom (FYI, it is located in the Festhaus bathroom on the exit side in the back--what they have done is to take a couple of stalls and take out the fixtures and put in a big leather chair--not super fancy, but definitely cool and comfortable). If you have any disability or any other questions about anything, definitely ask at Guest Relations as soon as you get in--all theme parks have something similar. The ladies in there were super nice and helpful and know about two tons more than any of the other employees.

So, yes, as a parent you will definitely find yourself at one of these places, and really, it is very fun. We are already planning to take our brood to Cedar Point next year, and we are all super excited. Just don't eat too much sugar...ah, who am I kidding? Live it up!

Nine Months In, Nine Months Out

Today my baby was supposed to have her nine month appointment. I say "supposed to" because my son got hit in the mouth with a swing at school, which nearly knocked his front tooth out. This called for an emergency dental appointment, which called for me changing Alice's appointment until next week. Oh well. No sweat on that. When you have three kids, you get used to the rescheduling.

At any rate, though, Alice and I are both at our nine month mark. I had a lot I wanted to accomplish by this point, and I think I've done pretty well. For one thing, I'm still breastfeeding. I didn't really give myself a choice on that one--I was going to do it come hell or high water--but it still amazes me that I've been able to keep at it. Let me tell you, breastfeeding + working at a high school does not equal anything good. Kids are unpredictable, and so are their schedules. And thus so is my job. Finding time to pump and a place to pump and all of that is frustrating, and sometimes impossible. But I'm still at it. Alice is eating solids now (we are doing Baby Led Weaning to some degree--I have given her a bit of spoon fed foods like yogurt so she could get different textures and I think she likes that), so her milk consumption while I am at work has dropped quite a bit. However, she still consumes her normal feedings in the evenings and at night. Thus, we still have our time together. It is so nice to come home and take her in the bedroom after a long day at work and both of us to get comfy under a blanket and just have that time. I love it and wouldn't trade it for the world. And at six weeks, I never thought I would be typing those words.

I have also done AP to some degree, and have been happy with the results. Alice is calm, sleeps well and seems to be developing quickly (if not a bit quicker than my other two). My grandmother and mom do make comments about how much she is held or carried, but to me, the proof is in the pudding. Everyone says that she is the best baby they have ever seen, and yes, I know people just say that, but she really is pretty awesome. She is the perfect baby for our family because as long as I am paying attention to her needs and giving her myself as best I can, she can go and do whatever. For instance, she has attended every softball and t-ball game with me this season (we even have matching shirts--my shirts say "Sam's Mom" and "Gabby's Mom" and hers say "Sam's Sis" and "Gabby's Sis"), and has been perfectly pleased to sit on my lap and cheer. Developmentally, (and this may not be related at all to the AP) she has learned to crawl faster than my other two, and just has an awareness that is, I think, different from what I have observed previously. In short, she is swell.

As for myself, I have met my original weight goal that I made for myself way back when Alice was just a twinkle in my eye. I started as a size 14, and got down to a 12 before I got pregnant (although that first 30 pounds was definitely the hardest!). Then, post pregnancy, I have gone from a 12 to a 4/6. I am pleased with this--I wanted to be a size 6. The only thing that is odd is how I see myself. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in a store window or something and I think, "Where is the rest of me? Is that really me?" and I am pleased. Other times, I think, "This is what I thought I looked like when I was a 12. Am I still a 12? Is it all just vanity sizing?" It is strange. I would really like to lose about 5-10 more pounds and tone up a bit. I have started running, and I really love it. Mostly because I go either with a group of girls in my town or with my Ipod. I need to restart on my abs and upper arms because I have exercises that I like for both, but I keep putting it off. There are not enough hours in the day.

As far as life issues go, things are going well there as well. I am considering going back to law school next semester. However, there are a few things that concern me about the school system where we live, so I am worried about getting myself further into the program before we decide what we do. I've got a couple of months to mull it over, so I will take advantage. If I take another year before going back, I want to get a different job. Nothing against this one--I would just like a change in pace. My position right now is paid for by a grant, so technically it is up next year anyway, although they would like to keep me around and have promised me another position if I am interested. I am currently deciding if I am or not.

And our family is complete. That is a nice feeling, ladies and gentlemen. There is just something about it. I don't know how to describe it. I feel like we have the perfect little team--a Party of Five if you will. Only without Neve Campbell. I never liked her anyway.

Pumping Sucks.

Literally. And figuratively.

Yesterday, in a feat of forgetfulness the likes of which I haven't been prone to in a long time, I managed to leave my pump, id badge, wedding rings, lunch, and assorted other goodies at home. My husband realized it some 10 minutes after I left, but by that time I was well on my way and singing to the radio so I didn't hear my phone buzzing in the charger. He ended up bringing the stuff to me, but didn't get it here until almost 1:00, during his own lunch time. Which meant that I missed one of my normal pumping times. I managed to pump one time yesterday, and wouldn't you know it but yesterday was the day that my mother in law commented, "Wow, Alice sure ate a lot today! I might have to break into the freezer stash." So, I of course, freak out because I am bringing home much less milk, plus the freezer stash is a source of sanity for me and not something I want to bust into because of my own idiocy in forgetting my stuff at home. I make plans to pump at night after Alice goes to bed to make up for the lost milk.

Guess who decides to stay up until 11:00? Now, she is going through this little phase where the only way she will go to sleep is to have me nurse her laying down in bed when I go to bed. She eats and then I lay her down beside of me and roll over with my back to her. Then she falls asleep. It is the only way, for the past three nights at least, to get her there. It is not horrible by any stretch of the imagination, but it does not leave for quality pumping time. Plus, I end up falling asleep too and then she ends up sleeping with us, and none of us sleep as well all together. ANYWAY, at 11:00 last night, she is awake, but falling fast. I put her to bed, thinking I will just get back up and pump the other boob after she is asleep. Guess who is a hungry, hungry hippo? Yeah. She ends up eating from both and then falling asleep on my arm. Great. Since there is no point in pumping at that point, I go to sleep too. However, because we are sleeping together, she wakes up at 3:30 (not something she usually does if she is sleeping in the bassinet). Great, I think. I'll feed her and then pump and then come back to bed. She does manage to eat quickly and sort of falls back to sleep, but definitely seems like she wants to cuddle. So I lay there, dozing, until she is good and asleep. By this point, it is 4:30, so I get up and pump. Do you know how much it sucks to pump at 4:30 in the morning? A lot. Especially when all you can think about is crawling back under your new flannel sheets and getting that one and a half hour of sleep that you crave so much. I manage to do it, and then to wash the pump, and then I come back to bed. And guess who slept until 7:00 this morning? This girl.

So I get up and pump again. At this point, my boobs were TAPPED.OUT. I managed to get about 3.5 ounces and just called it a day. But now I'm nervous that she won't have enough today and will bust into the freezer supply, which is fine I guess, but not something I want to make into a daily occurence.

And the worst thing is that I remembered my pump and everything today, but I do not want to go do it at 10:00 (my normal pumping time). I have a decent room to pump in (locking door, nice chair), but it is a long way from the room where I do most of my work. Plus, I have to walk through the auditorium to get there (I work at a high school), so I have to go at times when the drama kids are not in there. So I have to lug my heavy bag down there twice a day and sometimes there are kids around and I know they are like, "Why is the mentor going into the janitor's anteroom with that big old bag and a J. Crew catalog?" Cause it kinda looks nefarious. Moreover, it just takes time out of my day when I could be working with students. The best case scenario would be to do it during this block (planning period), but I can't because the auditorium is in use by the competition drama team, and I can't bust up their performance to pass through. Sigh. What's even worse is that my other pumping time is during my lunch and it is so tempting to skip it because I can use that time to talk to other teachers (two of which are also experiencing pumping drama right now) about my students and other adult topics. I almost feel like I need that adult conversation time because I spend the rest of my working day talking to teenagers and the rest of my time at home talking to my kids. So tempting to skip it! But I can't... I have to keep telling myself that.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that I hate to pump, especially at 4:00 in the morning. And when I do it, I end up coming to work in cargo pants. Yes, you read that correctly. Cargo pants. Why? Because they are technically not against the dress code (not jeans!) and because it is raining and icky, I overslept, and I had to do laundry and find a magazine picture of something that starts with the letter "u" this morning for my son. Plus, they pseudo-fit, especially since I consumed a whole ton of sugar yesterday and feel kind of bloated/icky today. So I am wearing cargo pants, a J.Crew t-shirt, and a puffy vest. And my hair is not washed, and I am only wearing a tiny bit of foundation, mascara, and Yes To Carrots lip balm. Sexy. The funny thing is, my husband remarked on how "cute" I look this morning. And my 10 year old, who normally only gives me an eye roll in the morning (not a morning person, that one) told me she liked my vest. Welcome to Bizarro World!

I feel mildly bad because I always used to make fun of this girl I used to work with in CA because she would wear elastic waist black velour pants to work because they were technically not against the dress code. She would just wear a blouse with them, like she was wearing normal black pants. It was horrendous. But I am doing the same thing today. Karma--she is a bitch.

And finally, I must add that the fates are conspiring against me because my husband is getting...sick. To be honest, I would rather get amoebic dysentary with a side of typhus than for my husband to get a cold. Why? Because it lasts FOREVER and he documents each bit of horribleness for all to hear. As in, "This morning my throat is a bit scratchier and my nose is more stuffy than runny on the left side, not the right. Oh, and I've sneezed four times." Grrrrr.... Plus, he thinks having a cold gives him every right to go to bed at 8:00 and remind me to do his laundry. Which is what I was doing this morning.... along with determining that "u" is a very unfrequently used letter in the English language.