Blowouts are bad. You're never prepared for it. They interrupt what you're trying to do, stop you from getting where you're going. They leave a mess of debris in their wake. You're lucky most of the time if it doesn't cause a whole new chain of events to take place - a sort of domino effect. No matter how mild, how much control you happen to get over it when it happens or even if you anticipate it coming, it ends up costing you money you didn't want to spend in repairs and replacements. Most of all, you're lucky if you or someone else don't get killed in the process.
Yes...diaper blowouts can be extremely dangerous.
Yesterday evening when I got off work, Jeff and Bella met me to go get a bit to eat and do a little shopping. Bella seemed to be a little grouchy, however it was nothing that a little "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" on the iPod couldn't cure. When we were done, Jeff took me back to my car and was helping me put in her in my car when he realized she was soaked.
And the he realized that she wasn't just wet.
He was freaking out. I knew there was no change of clothes in the car or her bag, so I wasn't sure what to do with her. So, I took her into work, propped her up on the dryer in the break room and stripped her down. After we gave the security camera a good show, we left with Bella wearing nothing but a diaper, her shoes and her new spring jacket. It was at a time like this, I appreciated my mom instilling in me the importance of multiple layers. Even if it is 70 degrees outside :)
Don't worry Lebliss girls...I cleaned the dryer off good when we were done.
Lesson learned: always carry an extra set of clothes. ALWAYS.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
the special cart
Tonight I had to run to Kroger for a couple of items I needed for tomorrow that I had forgotten about. I grabbed the cart that was sitting conveniently at arms reach and ran into the store.
I should have known. There's always a reason that one lone cart sits at arms reach so conveniently. It was a special cart. You know, the ones that have a jacked up wheel - and no matter how hard or fast you push it through the store it wants you to go left.
Thankfully I only needed 2 items, and I was by myself. But you know what I mean. You've gotten out of the car, hauled your kid, or even kids, up to the store, diaper bag, purse, grocery list in tow, strapped the little monster in once you've finally found a cart that actually has a safety belt. You feel like you've completed an Olympic decathalon and you victoriously push your way into the store only to find out...
you've picked the special cart.
Happens to me all the time. In fact, it can easily ruin my days grocery shopping trip, which I find utterly unenjoyable in the first place. My husband enjoys making fun of my hatred of the the experience. I've tried to be have a better outlook on it. I've tried to look at the fact that Bella taking the grocery list out of my hand and tearing it in half is only her expression of desire to split up the responsibility of shopping. I've reasoned out that when she pulls things off of the shelves and throws them in the cart she's merely trying to free up my hands to only have to push the cart. I have even concluded that when she turns around and takes things out of the cart and and throws them on the ground, she's just going for quality assurance and getting rid of the items that are not up to par.
But the cart, with the special wheel. That's one I can't get past. No matter how you look at it. There is no way to put a positive spin on a grocery cart that has a mind of it's own.
I should have known. There's always a reason that one lone cart sits at arms reach so conveniently. It was a special cart. You know, the ones that have a jacked up wheel - and no matter how hard or fast you push it through the store it wants you to go left.
Thankfully I only needed 2 items, and I was by myself. But you know what I mean. You've gotten out of the car, hauled your kid, or even kids, up to the store, diaper bag, purse, grocery list in tow, strapped the little monster in once you've finally found a cart that actually has a safety belt. You feel like you've completed an Olympic decathalon and you victoriously push your way into the store only to find out...
you've picked the special cart.
Happens to me all the time. In fact, it can easily ruin my days grocery shopping trip, which I find utterly unenjoyable in the first place. My husband enjoys making fun of my hatred of the the experience. I've tried to be have a better outlook on it. I've tried to look at the fact that Bella taking the grocery list out of my hand and tearing it in half is only her expression of desire to split up the responsibility of shopping. I've reasoned out that when she pulls things off of the shelves and throws them in the cart she's merely trying to free up my hands to only have to push the cart. I have even concluded that when she turns around and takes things out of the cart and and throws them on the ground, she's just going for quality assurance and getting rid of the items that are not up to par.
But the cart, with the special wheel. That's one I can't get past. No matter how you look at it. There is no way to put a positive spin on a grocery cart that has a mind of it's own.
Friday, February 18, 2011
my prerogative
It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind.
Right?
I change things like the wind changes. The two of you who read my blog may have noticed this by the way the design of it changes all the time. I get bored easy and feel like I need something fresh. This happens with the smallest of things like, where the garbage can sits in the bathroom, to middle of the road things such as, how the kitchen is organized, or to big things, like how the furniture is arranged, or even what room it might be in.
A couple of years ago I had rearranged the layout of the house so much, that one day Yana came out of her room and asked me where the kitchen was now.
I will admit that I may have a problem. It probably frustrates Jeff the most. He is a creature of habit and set in his ways. He doesn't like coming home and now knowing where the silverware might be. In fact, just this evening when he pulled my blog up, his words were "This is an eyesore." And then I was all "why you gotta be hateful?"
So guess what? I changed it. It's my prerogative :)
Right?
I change things like the wind changes. The two of you who read my blog may have noticed this by the way the design of it changes all the time. I get bored easy and feel like I need something fresh. This happens with the smallest of things like, where the garbage can sits in the bathroom, to middle of the road things such as, how the kitchen is organized, or to big things, like how the furniture is arranged, or even what room it might be in.
A couple of years ago I had rearranged the layout of the house so much, that one day Yana came out of her room and asked me where the kitchen was now.
I will admit that I may have a problem. It probably frustrates Jeff the most. He is a creature of habit and set in his ways. He doesn't like coming home and now knowing where the silverware might be. In fact, just this evening when he pulled my blog up, his words were "This is an eyesore." And then I was all "why you gotta be hateful?"
So guess what? I changed it. It's my prerogative :)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
confessions of the undomesticated
After taking the kids Christmas shopping for each other, and for me and Jeff, my husband says to me:
"Zeke wanted to get you one of those triple crockpot things. I said 'That's a really good idea. She hates to cook!' "
They decided against it, which I think was a smart idea :)
Although it irritated me at the time, for so many reasons, my husband is correct: I hate to cook. And while I do think they did the smart thing by getting me something other than an appliance to cook with for Christmas, it honestly isn't a bad idea. Think of the possibilities, you can have your meat AND sides cooking while you're gone (or even while you're home!) with little to no effort and ready for you whenever you want to eat it!
I have a confession to make: I am not domestic. This is not something that I discovered recently. It isn't even something that I didn't realize until after I got married. I always knew it - I am not domestic.
1. I hate cooking.
There is nothing enjoyable about it for me. I don't know much about it, it doesn't come easy to me, and frankly the thought of eating something that I've seen in its raw, uncooked, slimy form sounds about as appetizing as eating out of the garbage can.
2. I hate cleaning.
I know, I know...who doesn't? I am not a neat freak by any stretch of the imagination. Most days I look around at a mess and think about cleaning it up, but wonder what the point is. It will just get trashed again, and it seems counterproductive - especially when the whole time you're picking up, your 2-year-old comes right along behind you and undoes everything you just did.
3. I hate laundry.
Don't get me wrong - I like having clean clothes. But that mountain of laundry piled in my basement overwhelms me so much that I want to run screaming from it. I can sort it and throw it in the washer/dryer like a champ. But the part that comes after - the folding, ironing and putting away - make me want to curl up in the corner in a fetal position.
The list could go on...I like coffee, but I don't want to make it - because then there's the actually getting up and doing it, cleaning the pot and the cup - it all seems pointless. I love HGTV, but when I try to put any of those ideas into effect at my own house, I feel like I'm trying to put a square peg into a round hole.
So there you have it. My undomesticated confession. Hear this: I wouldn't trade getting to work part time so that I can be home with my sweet little Bella to avoid any of this. I am trying to become more domestic. But I can say this - I am good at being a mom. So if it means that my house is a little bit messier, that our meals are not always as good as they could be, and that the laundry pile gets taller than me sometimes, I can be ok with it. I would rather know that I took good care of my kiddos and raised them to be well-behaved, hard working, Godly people.
In the meantime, here is a little website that has recently changed my life - at least where cooking is concerned. E-mealz is a website that will plan your meals for you. For $5 a month, you can pick a meal plan based on diet or where you shop the most - or both. It will give you 7 meal plans (ingredient list plus recipe), plus a grocery list every week. Try it out - if you get bored like me and feel like you fix the same things all of the time, you will love it.
Happy Thursday!
"Zeke wanted to get you one of those triple crockpot things. I said 'That's a really good idea. She hates to cook!' "
They decided against it, which I think was a smart idea :)
Although it irritated me at the time, for so many reasons, my husband is correct: I hate to cook. And while I do think they did the smart thing by getting me something other than an appliance to cook with for Christmas, it honestly isn't a bad idea. Think of the possibilities, you can have your meat AND sides cooking while you're gone (or even while you're home!) with little to no effort and ready for you whenever you want to eat it!
I have a confession to make: I am not domestic. This is not something that I discovered recently. It isn't even something that I didn't realize until after I got married. I always knew it - I am not domestic.
1. I hate cooking.
There is nothing enjoyable about it for me. I don't know much about it, it doesn't come easy to me, and frankly the thought of eating something that I've seen in its raw, uncooked, slimy form sounds about as appetizing as eating out of the garbage can.
2. I hate cleaning.
I know, I know...who doesn't? I am not a neat freak by any stretch of the imagination. Most days I look around at a mess and think about cleaning it up, but wonder what the point is. It will just get trashed again, and it seems counterproductive - especially when the whole time you're picking up, your 2-year-old comes right along behind you and undoes everything you just did.
3. I hate laundry.
Don't get me wrong - I like having clean clothes. But that mountain of laundry piled in my basement overwhelms me so much that I want to run screaming from it. I can sort it and throw it in the washer/dryer like a champ. But the part that comes after - the folding, ironing and putting away - make me want to curl up in the corner in a fetal position.
The list could go on...I like coffee, but I don't want to make it - because then there's the actually getting up and doing it, cleaning the pot and the cup - it all seems pointless. I love HGTV, but when I try to put any of those ideas into effect at my own house, I feel like I'm trying to put a square peg into a round hole.
So there you have it. My undomesticated confession. Hear this: I wouldn't trade getting to work part time so that I can be home with my sweet little Bella to avoid any of this. I am trying to become more domestic. But I can say this - I am good at being a mom. So if it means that my house is a little bit messier, that our meals are not always as good as they could be, and that the laundry pile gets taller than me sometimes, I can be ok with it. I would rather know that I took good care of my kiddos and raised them to be well-behaved, hard working, Godly people.
In the meantime, here is a little website that has recently changed my life - at least where cooking is concerned. E-mealz is a website that will plan your meals for you. For $5 a month, you can pick a meal plan based on diet or where you shop the most - or both. It will give you 7 meal plans (ingredient list plus recipe), plus a grocery list every week. Try it out - if you get bored like me and feel like you fix the same things all of the time, you will love it.
Happy Thursday!
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