I think it’s 7, anyways, does it matter? Because why limit it to 365?

1. A case of free-range chickens.
2. 60 pounds of grass-fed beef.
(In other words, enough meat to not have to buy any until about February)
3. A happy, healthy, growing baby who said “mum” today while looking at me (even though it was probably an accident, but she only said “mum” once not “mumumumum” like she normally does, so I’ll take it)

4. A warm house on a blustery day.
5. Multigrain garlic buns and leftover salad for dinner (leftover meaning it’s a mix of leftovers with a few things added in; some people make soups, I make salads).

On mornings when it’s raining (or monsooning as it was this morning), I’ll get up and drive Darren to the train so he doesn’t get too wet on the way to work. Take note he takes the train at half before dark (otherwise known as Oh My God o’clock). So he’ll get up, get ready and then come and get me when he’s ready to go. One of us will pack the Poptart into her seat because they don’t like it when you leave babies home alone.

Me: mmmmmf. Need a ride?
Darren: Yep. It’s raining. Want me to get [the Poptart]?
Me: If you could.

I get up, go to the bathroom and toddle downstairs where I find Darren just standing there holding her. She’s snuggled into his shoulder, her arms around his neck.

Darren: I don’t want to put her down.

1. Me, apparently.

I missed 2 days on NaBloPoMo because my parents decided to come down for an impromptu visit. Grandchildren do this. I logged on for the first time in a couple of days to find something that sucked even more harshly:

2. That Anissa Mayhew had a massive stroke on Tuesday afternoon

Anissa’s blog is #FreeAnissa. She’s also the mastermind behind Aiming Low – a site that reminds us not to be perfectionists; that sometimes, good enough, is good enough.

I have not met Anissa, but she is one of those people who I tweet with, and I read her sites. And she has been through so much: a previous stroke, a daughter who has beaten cancer. She is the kind of person I’d like to have a bottle of wine with and just listen to her tales. Everywhere, there are posts saying how kind, charming and funny she is. How good of a mother she is to her 3 young children.

But mostly kind.

And the fact that she is a Battlestar Galactica fan helps to make her one of the bloggers I’d most like to meet.

I don’t do prayers in an organized religion sense, but she has been in my thoughts since I found out. And there is some evidence that prayer circles work.

So let’s all pray or at least think good thoughts for Anissa making a full recovery.

And if you’d like to help her family, there is information on how you can help at Aiming Low and The Spohrs are Multiplying.

The Poptart is a good baby. Dare I say, an easy baby. She’s slept through the night – at least 6 hours – since about 8 weeks of age. Every once in awhile, of course, we have a “bad” night where she’s up every couple of hours.

The tradeoff on this was that she didn’t nap during the day. At least not more than 20 minutes. If I wanted her to sleep longer or if she needed to sleep longer, she had to sleep on me, but would move every time I took a breath. Which sort of defeated the purpose of taking a nap: so I could get stuff done around here so she could get some rest.

My mother said the no napping was payback: apparently I didn’t nap either. And yes, she laughed at me.

Anyways, I took the tradeoff: so long as she goes to bed between 8 and 9:30, she sleeps when we sleep. I will take that any day. It’s not like I could return or exchange her.

In the last month or so, she started taking a nap about 1.5 to 2 hours after getting up in the morning. This morning she napped from 6:30 to just after 10.  Then she went for another nap at about 1 until just about 2:30. Then another nap about 5pm for about 45 minutes.

And she’s been doing this more or less consistently for the last couple of weeks.

Of course, now that I’ve written this down, she’ll probably stop napping and wake up all night.

Doing her Mike Tyson impression:

Before the poptart was born a friend gave me a pile of baby girl clothes and a Fisher Price Kick ‘n Play*. It’s a bouncy chair with an arch that…oh hell. Here’s a link to a picture.

ANYWAYS.

Today we put the Poptart in it, then went to pour some wine and when we came back, she’d flipped herself over and out of the chair.

I guess this is why they say not to use it once the baby can sit up. Which means we have to put it away and find her another chair.

Therefore, I am taking donations of baby/toddler chairs. But not bumbos, thank you.

Since the Poptart is a standy baby and is 18lbs and change and my arms are feeble get sore holding her up, we got borrowed a rather ancient exersaucer from the neighbour:

She liked it well enough but seemed to get bored of it pretty quickly. She did seem to like bouncing in it, although she had to work pretty hard to get it moving.

I remembered that friends of ours had a fairly cool exersaucer/jumper combination thing for their son (who is 13 months). So I emailed her and asked her what brand, etc. it was

So she emails me back, and tells me its the Fisher Price Precious Planet one and did we want to borrow theirs since their son isn’t using it anymore.

You bet we did. It matches her high chair too:

She liked it well enough and it kept her entertained for a few minutes when we first put it together.

The thing on the front is actually a music box that lights up when she bounces in it. The bottom panel underneath has five screws and it takes 3 AA batteries.

Sidenote: what is it with these baby toys and things taking three batteries? 4.5volts? WTF? the baby monitor, the kick ‘n play and this thing all take THREE batteries. We have rechargeables, but you can only recharge them 2 by 2. Also, the screws in the panel covers = EVIL.

So the other night we brought it home and Darren put it together and put three batteries in the music box. When he came up from downstairs, he told me we needed more batteries because all he could find were the cheap ones. I assumed he meant the Kirkland (costco) brand.

And the music box didn’t really work. It didn’t light up and it just kind of grumbled. I just sort of assumed it was busted, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, etc.

Today I remarked to Darren that the music box didn’t seem to work. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s kind of broken.”

“Or it could just be the cheap batteries.”

Its a good thing I went to Costco yesterday and picked up a pack of batteries.

So I unscrewed the panel, took out the cheap batteries and they weren’t the Kirkland ones. They were the direct-from-some-developing-nation batteries of a brand you’ve never heard of that came with some remote control or something. And they’d been dead for awhile already.

So I put three new batteries in and LO AND BEHOLD THE MUSIC BOX PLAYED AND THE BIRDIE ON TOP LIT UP AND THE POPTART LAUGHED AND LAUGHED AND BOUNCED.

And then I went out and bought rechargeable batteries. And wine. Because we are brilliant like that. Remind me to tell you about the leaky shower sometime.

So how about a picture instead? This one always makes me smile:

When I was writing my thesis, I had an argument with my thesis supervisor the first day I went to see him because I didn’t have a title. A title, he opined, was the most Important thing to explain the theme of your masterpiece.

No, really that’s what he said. It’s probably a good thing he’s retired now.

I argued back that it was necessary to know what you were writing about before you came up with a title.

And while I’d spent the previous semester working with him on a proposal for it, I still didn’t have a title.

Anyways, my point is this: I have an idea for a book. Really. I just don’t have a title (or an idea of how it will begin or end, for that matter). But an idea. I had actually considered doing nanowrimo instead this year, but something was holding me back.

I brushed it off on having a baby with no real schedule.

I am a liar sometimes.

So instead of finding busywork or hanging online while the poptart sleeps, I’ll use this to get my creativity flowing again.

Starting Monday. Because I’ll use the weekend to come up with a title.

Did you know that salsa and babies go together well?

(This is really going to get me some weird searches. Almost as weird as “How do you make cookies from babies?” For real.)

Last week, in an effort to find something different to do, I signed up for a Salsababies class. That would be salsa, the dance, not salsa the stuff you eat on corn chips with guacamole and sour cream and melted cheese and taco meat.

Now I’m hungry. Dammit.

Where was I? I’m quite tired. I had my hamthrax and seasonal flu shots yesterday – one in each arm and dammit, my arms hurt a lot from that. I didn’t sleep well and then I went and learned the merengue and the salsa. Or I tried to. I’m not really that coordinated on land. Get me in the water though and I am Barishnikov. Except with less hairy legs, I hope.

Add to the lack of coordination an 18 lb baby in a carrier on my chest and it makes for a good workout. I went to Chapters afterwards, and was immediately accosted by two people wanting to help me – I think it was so I would leave faster; I don’t think I smelled all that great.

So yes. If you have a baby, go to salsababies (don’t go and get a jar of salsa and dump it on your baby though. He/she probably won’t like that). If you don’t have a baby, go to a regular salsa class.

Or you could take a cooking class and learn how to make salsa.