I'm Back!

And I have a few observations to share (what a stunner).



Okay, here is what I miss about China:

• Housekeeping - not just the fact that your bathroom gets cleaned and the bed made, but that if you kid throws up on the bed in the middle of the night, all it takes is one phone call and a kind Chinese employee scurries your room and quickly changes the sheets, and with a smile! (This happened to us twice).
• The breakfast buffet each morning . . . Lord, I will always miss that scrumptious and bountiful spread. Pout!
• Co.ke Lite - their version of D.iet Cok.e
• How cheap the food is (and dee-lish!)
• The service we received EVERYWHERE - smiles, doors held for us, eagerness to please, attempts to speak English for OUR convenience, encouragement as we struggled with our new baby
• No job to attend to, no emails to check - just focusing solely on the baby
• How cheap and easy it was to have our clothes laundered, pressed, and meticulously folded whenever we needed it done
  

And here is what I love about being back home:

• I am no longer BAKING in the Chinese heat and humidity
• More than one english-speaking t.v. station (we were stuck with B.BC, too, ick!)
• Toddler-proofed house
• Better pizza
• Having our strollers available (the ones we spent endless hours researching)
• Finally having a baby in the room that has stood empty for far too long

My Friends Are Insane

How do I even explain THIS?! Okay, here goes . . .

The aforementioned "Man Hands" (Adrian from CA) has two hobbies which I consider bizarre. One is bird-watching, the other is collecting the state quarters the U.S. Mint has put out over the past few years.

Well, last year about this time I joked something like "hey, I have the new Montana one!" and ManHands immediately replied that she did NOT have it, wanted it, and if I sent it to her in CA she would give me a dollar in return. I did send it, and really didn't expect anything in return. After all, this woman has let us camp out at her lovely beachfront home for free TWICE.

Fast forward to Monday of this week, when instigator "2.0" pipes up with an inquiry as to whether ManHands ever sent me that dollar for the quarter? I say no, 2.0 chides her for not mailing it since I am "with child" and thus need money. I then teased ManHands that she should send it via F.edEx since I was flying away to China this Friday.

I guess ManHans decided to be a smart ass (gawd, I love smart asses!), 'cause look at what I received at work this morning . . .



A freakin' $1.oo bill, and one individually-wrapped Twi.zzler, courtesy of ManHands and her company's Fe.dEx account (gotta love those internet companies that don't watch their bottom line that carefully, LMAO!)

I am so anxious right now, that this insane delivery made me whoop it up pretty damn loud! I think I frightened my company's receptionist, hee hee.

It's the little things that put a smile on my face, and this most certainly did.

I wuv you ManHands!!!! (Can we all now change into our jammies, braid each others hair, and bake brownies?!)

Time is Relative

"As the days grow shorter, your hours grow longer."

-- wisdom from "Mr. Bill," my little brother

Is That a Can of Pringles or are You Just Happy to See Me?

This morning I woke up from a dead state of sleep just shy of 5 a.m. The reason? I had a bad dream in which I had been arrested. For shoplifting a can of Prin.gles. Yes, a can of Pri.ngles.

WTF is wrong with me?! (I know, do I want that list alphabetically?!)

In the dream I manage to get out of what had to be the dirtiest grocery store I have seen in a long time, am 3/4's of the way to my car, when security steers me back to the store. I hadn't much concealed the can -- it was kind of in the crook of my arm, along with my purse.

Now WHAT is this all about?! Much as I love the salty, crisp yumminess that are Pr.ingles, I am thinking it that this bizarre scenario has something to do with denying myself something I want or desire. (I do love chips, gawd do I ever, but rarely buy them, since I am determined to keep my weight under control and I know that letting chippies into my home are like a "gateway drug" that could spiral into me falling of the wagon).

Nah, dreams are rarely literal like that. Objects and people always represent something or someone else. What am I denying? What am I wanting? What am I reaching for? Is it as yummy as a can of P.ringles?!?!?!

Now Somebody Else is Trying to Kill Me

As if my own attempts to physically injure myself weren't enough, apparently the County Health Department is also trying to "off me."

In preparation for our trip to China, we decided to get the recommended (though not required) Tetnu.s booster, and He.p A and H.ep B shots. The A & B shots are three-parters . . . you get parts one and two prior to your trip (must be a month apart), and the third part after your return.

Please note, that EACH time we get the H.ep A & B shots it costs us $188. That pisses me off to no end. I will wind up spending $564 in preventative vaccines. Insurance cuts you NO break, and these can not be administered by your regular PCP, because they are considered infectious diseases and thus can only be handled by the County Health Department. So add into this the cost of parking, and traveling a good 25 miles each way to the friggin' County Health Department, each time. Grrrrr. It further pisses me off that insurance cuts us NO BREAKS on these costs . . . but IF we come down with H.ep? Oh sure, THEN it will pay half a million bucks in hospitalization costs!

If you have not previously read my rant on the County Health Department, and all of it's nastiness, now is an appropriate time to do so. In mid-June we went for our second round of the shots.

With time growing short and our schedules likewise crazy in the closing days before we blast off to China, imagine my horror when last Friday I received a call from the County Health Department telling me that our second set of shots "Was No Good." Well, at least that's what it sounded like "Ana" was saying, because SHE DID NOT SPEAK PASSABLE ENGLISH!!! Now listen, before I get unfairly labeled a racist or any bullshit like that, please know that my pediatrician, my favorite dentist, and my current PCP, RE, and OB/GYN are ALL foreign-born, with English as their second language. Great, no problem. I love accents (hell, I married one), and admire greatly people who are bi-lingual. But when you are being called with such critical information as "gee, the vaccine isn't valid!" I don't think it's too much to EXPECT that the messenger speak passable English!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously, a call center overseas has better English speakers.

I was told some bullshit that the 'fridge which stored our second round of vaccines "had a temperature failure," and thus we need to repeat it. But that they're would be "no charge" for doing so. WERE THEY PHUCKING KIDDING ME?! Hullo?!?!? I asked "And who will be paying for my parking, my gas costs, and our time off of work? And will the clinic be open for extended hours to accomodate us?"

Any guesses on the answer to THOSE questions?! Of course, all "No's". I guess "Ana" knew I wasn't a Happy Camper, because she said she would have a supervisor call be back. Damn right, "Ana"!!!

So "Sharon" called me back about 10 minutes later, and gives me the same B.S. about a 'fridge failing, and thus we didn't have the proper immunity. WTF?! I asked, WHY, if we got the second round of shots on June 17th, I was being informed of a "temperature failure"on July 11th? Oh, um, because the County Health Dept. consulted with the CDC, and the CDC recommended they call people and have the vaccine repeated. Again, I ask, "why am I being told this NOW? We leave for China in 2 weeks -- what if we had already left?!" Well "Sharon" then said "Well you need to have 28 days in between Parts One and Two, so you couldnt' have come in before next Monday anyway." Which prompted me to ask incredulously, "YOU SAID IT'S NOT VALID - SO WHY WOULD I NEED TO WAIT UNTIL MONDAY ANYWAY?!" Then Sharon said "Well, we're not sure how much of it was good."

WHAT PHUCKING CLOWNS ARE WORKING ON MY PHUCKING TAX DOLLARS?!?!

I gave "Sharon" an earful as to HOW they need somebody with a better command of the English language to make these calls than Ana, and how I had lived in California, so I am not some anti-immgrant b*tch who is complaining, but when it comes to important medical stuff like this it DOES make a difference -- cause for a few scary moments while on the phone with "Ana" I thought she was telling me that I had somehow contracted He.p A and/or B!!! Sharon surprisingly agreed with me when it came to Ana.

I think me throwing around "My husband is a doctor" also got her attention, because suddenly she was willing to stay as late as 10 p.m. to accomodate his schedule. In retrospect, and after speaking with a colleague about this, I think "Sharon the Supervisor" is more worried that between myself and My Doctor Husband we will raise a public stink about this, and the County Health Dept (and its employees) will be in even Deeper Shit.

What's kinda comical is that I am connected enough politically (thanks to my job) to the County elected officials who sit on the committees that fund the County Health Department, as well as have oversight on it. I could cause some serious-ass trouble if I wanted to. Plus, what low-levcel reporter isn't looking for a possible investigative story to help them get a leg up in the newsroom?!

But honestly, I am too rushed right now with other stuff, too preoccupied with trying to sew up things before we leave, too tired from lack of sleep, too frazzled with worries and fears, too agitated by little stuff . . . to go through all of that.

So instead, we took "Sharon" up on her offer to meet us after hours and get our second round of shots. And we even got a free parking spot closeby. Even funnier, since she knew we needed these shots in conjunction with our adoption, she gave us a free bib and onesie with the emblem of the County Health Department on it as a baby gift. She was VERY pleasant in person.

Don't ya just LOVE that?! LMAO (cause otherwise I will cry).

Just praying I can get through these remaining days without any more mishaps (self-inlflicted or otherwise). But I am waiting for some ninja to jump out at me, I swear. Next?!

Getting Closer . . .

:o)

More Self-Inflicted Punishment

Sheesh, when it rains it pours. And clearly, this has been MY WEEK to injure or otherwise cause harm to myself.

Last night, I decided to remove the cutesy pink toenail polish that has been on my tootsies since early-May, when I treated myself to a pedicure prior to a business trip. For some reason, polish stays on my toes pretty well (maybe because I don't walk around barefoot, I don't know). So I grab the non-acetone polish remover (you must use non-acetone lest you cause serious damage to the silk wraps that are on your manicured nails -- I know, it's complicated being a girly girl, and I have had a lot of catching up to do in the last decade). It took some SERIOUS rubbing to get this shit off. My hands were actually cramping from the effort (and I do a lot of texting, so my hands are in shape, LOL).

Once it was done I made sure to scrub my hands with hot soap and water. That's when I did something stoopid. I decided this would be a marvelous time to take out my contacts. As I brought my hands to my left eye, I could still smell the vapors on my scrubbed-clean hands. I plunged ahead anyway. The vapors from my hands had my eye buring like friggin' hell! But what was I gonna do?! One was now out, and my vision is too poor to walk around with just one in so I endured the burning and yanked out the other one. Fearing that somehow a trace amount of chemicals were now on my contacts, I pitched this 2-day-old pair straight into the garbage. PHUCK -- I hate wasting money like that!

I flushed my eyes with a ton of cold water, which seemed to soothe my peepers. But this morning I was in for a lovely surprise . . . my eyelids had some peeling skin on them, and were super-puffy! They haven't been this bad since we lived in the Silicon Valley/Bay Area (which I then atributed to pollution and allergies). When we lived out there I used to fix this the ol' Miss A.merica way -- which means whipping out a tube of hemor.roid cream and applying some on my eyelids. Go ahead, laugh your asses off - pageant queens swear by it and guess what, IT WORKS! Whatever is in that cream to shrink a hemorroid, and in a non-inflammatory manner (cause really, if you need it for THAT that last thing you need is more burning), ALSO works the same way on your eyelids! It works miracles.

But alas, I had none in the medicine closet, so I skipped my eye makeup and went about my day. And my day was going fine. I was hustling to get done at work early because I had bumped up my bi-weekly manicure to earlier in the day so I could ultimately go to the airport that evening to welcome home some friends who had just returned from China with their new daughter.

I prepared my spaghetti lunch for the microwave, and was walking through the hallway at work when I looked at my one hand thought "Aw shit, my fingernail broke. Dammit!" Eh, no wonder with all of the typing, texting, and crap I have been doing around the house, I reasoned.

But then came the 4th time in a few days in which I inadvertantly caused bodily harm to myself. I was enjoying my spaghetti at my desk, multi-tasking as usual, when suddenly I felt something crunchy in my mouth. Wanna guess when that fingernail broke and wear it landed?

Disgusting. I am a mess, I swear. I should have "crime scene" tape wrapped around me. I am a CSI delight of an episode. Grrrrrr.

Bloody Nose & Busted Lip

Yeppers, I managed to have both of these in 2 days time.

First up, the bloody nose. What's amazing about this is that, well . . . I gave myself the bloody nose. I wish I had some cool story to accompany it, but I don't. Nope, it's just another in a series of utterly ungraceful moves on my part. I was laying bed early Tuesday morning, after unsuccessfully being able to sleep (it was going on 2 hours at this point). I had JUST started to nod off, when my body had one of those sudden spasms that you sometimes get when falling asleep -- ya know, when your whole body jerks suddenly?!

Well, I had been laying on my right side, with my fist sorta loosely curled up near my face, with my right thumb extended. Somehow, somehow, when my body convulsed my right thumb inserted itself up into my right nostril, creating a gash in the process. My nose felt moist all of a sudden, so I reached for my ever present stash of tissues, and wiped my nose. Then I turned on the light. THERE WAS BLOOD ALL OVER THE TISSUE. Huh? WTF?!

I am not exaggerating when I report that it took 7 double-ply tissues before the bleeding subsided. This included me applying pressure, rolling up tissue & shoving inside the nostril like a boxer who had been punched, yadda, yadda. Each tissue was thoroughly soaked. Gross, but true. Eh, it's me, par for the course!

Then we roll to today. I am eating lunch when I suddenly bite down on the inside of my lip. HARD. This happens, right?! I wince, but resume eating. In the next 3 minutes, I manage to repeat this motion FIVE GAWDDAMN TIMES! It was like friggin' Gr.oundhog Day -- over and over I kept biting down in the exact same spot. Yowza!

I was so mad at myself. My lip was growing puffier and puffier by the minute. I have blood on the inside of my lip (under the surface) now. It's like I had dental work done, and I still have the swelling effects. Grrrr. Who knew my chompers were so powerful?!

Clearly, I am a hazard to myself.

And counting . . .

:o)

Happy Birthday America!!!

It's the most important day of the year!

A deeply sincere thank you to our wonderful military, past, present, and those who have been "promoted to Heaven."

I was so inspired by local talk radio yesterday, as they discussed the topic of the 2nd Amendment, that I am feeling moved enough to make a contribution to the N.R.A.

:o)

Peeker

So Dr. J finally "remembered" our wedding song. Only, he peeked at the web site for our pending China trip to figure it out. He says he felt ridiculous when he saw it, for not being able to remember it.

Yeeeeaaaaaah. We'll see. I think I will pretend to be all girly & hurt by this for a while, and see where it gets me.

[Cue sniffling, and commence lower lip pout].

Don't worry, honey, while YOU enjoyed YOUR last pre-parental hurrah last night -- a.k.a. your "BroMance Nite" with "Brother Jay" under the stars, listening to R.ush -- I stayed at home, eating leftovers warmed in the microwave, all by my lonesome.

;o)

Worst Husband Moment

I usually pride myself on the fact that I don't have one of "those husbands" when it comes to remembering the important things. He knows the date of our anniversary (made it easy for him, getting married 11 years to the day of our first date), he never forgets birthdays or holidays, yadda. He does f'in forget every other gawddamn thing, but important dates and dating/marriage details he rocks at!

Which is why it was so shocking this evening, when he completely flubbed on a big one . . . he can not remember what our wedding song is. Oh wait, he remembers something, it's just the incorrect name of the singer, and he is drawing a blank on the song itself.

This was revealed when I casually mentioned some additions I made to the web site we have created for our pending China trip. I told him I put some of the lyrics from our wedding song on it, and teased "You DO know what that song is, right, hee-hee?!"

Dr. J replies, "Oh yeah, it's that one by Marc Cohn."

WRONG!

So now I am NOT telling him the name of the song, nor the singer who crooned it.

NOTE TO DR. J -- it is NOT Marc Cohn. You are thinking of "True Companion," which is a song we both love and considered as our first dance song, but hon, it ain't it!

Lemme know when you figure it out, dumbshit. (Saying that with lots of luv and you know it).

Best Week Ever

Congrats to Dr. J, since last week was your "Best Week Ever"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Of course, this was quite predictable, as you know . . . since THIS one is a holiday weekend. And then in three weeks we are taking off for another freakin' continent. OF COURSE THEN EVERYBODY WILL WANT A PIECE OF YOU!

Very proud of you, Sweetie ;o)

Countdown to Grown-Up Land

I have often thought and remarked that I don't feel like a Grown-Up, certainly not an Adult. I always reasoned that "Grown-Ups have a mortgage and kids." Whew, I was safely not a member of that club!

Then one day we decided we wanted to have the latter (the kid). Which, because of the cards Life dealt us, and the path we choose, necessitated the former (the house, which = mortgage).

The house was not something we wanted. For over a year now I have felt like I have let everybody down when they say to us with a happy voice, "Don't you love having a house!" Um, uh, NO, we don't! I love my hardwood floors. I love shouting at the tops of my lungs (could do that at our old funky apartment, though). I love that the house made our adoption possible. I love that the walls in Lil' Pumpkin's nursery are bright green and blue (as opposed to "rental white" or cream). But I most certainly do not love having a house. Sigh. On our best days, I would put us in the "reluctant homeowner" category. I will be forever working towards my dream of three-story townhouse -- I even have it picked out, if anyone wants to buy it for grateful me (try me, I am GREAT at being GRATEFUL!!!)

But now I am less than 3o days (28, if anyone's counting -- oh wait, I AM!) to being a legal parent to somebody. I already feel like her parent, of course. I have filled out endless (and I do mean ENDLESS) paperwork to justify our relationship & responsibility. I have updated my life insurance to name her as a big winner if we croak. We now have wills, which name her as the heir to our estate (LOL -- then SHE can deal with the house, hee hee), and name her Legal Guardians if, again, we croak (seeing her name in our wills gave me such a reality-check rush, but in a good way). Heck, I even have her pediatrician appointment booked! Phuck, I am even tossing out phrases like "Maternity Leave" in emails to colleagues. WTF?!

Part Two of being a Grown-Up, which, by my definition, is what I am on the verge of these last 28 days, is clearly within my grasp. It is just around the corner, and yet painfully far away. I suck at waiting, of course. When I want something, I want it NOW. No, make that YESTERDAY.

But Part Two, as much as it's craved (okay, SHE is craved by us), seems so scary at the same time. I am aware of this about a thousand times a day as I move about my not-loved but toddler-proofed house. I see hazards everywhere. I think about all the things that can go wrong -- my old fears and pessimism never can be fully quelled, I suppose. I take out her photos and glance at it, for just a few quick seconds, and then have to put it away. It's like I am afraid that if I stare at it too long, or dream too much, then POOF, it will all be gone. Because that IS when things typically go to shit in my life -- when I start to get comfortable with a concept or state of being.

(Cue my positive mantras . . . she is ours, she is ours, she is ours).

28 days. Holy Phuck. Should I be doing something wild to mark these last days as a NON-adult?! What is truly crazy and non-kiddie that I can do to commemorate my last fleeting days of life that don't include a toddler? Maybe I need to pull our my "24 things" list again. LOL, if only we had time to do one a day (not).

F' Mick.ey M.ouse. And F' Me, too.

I can not believe this. I received in the mail some piece of paper from some bank or whatever saying that during transfer of paperwork that contained shareholder information of Disney stockholders, a truck lost or misplaced some boxes that contained paperwork with my private information. I think this means IDENTITY THEFT is imminent. Of course it is. They are offering me 90 days of free credit monitoring, but actually I am not too worried because (through an employee benefit) I already have a credit monitoring service that checks my credit reports monthly for anything funky.

All this, because like 20+ years ago somebody in the family (I think my Dad?) bought me two friggin' shares of Disney stock. From which I get dividends yearly that add up to about 78 cents. Really, I am NOT exaggerating. It ranges from 43 to 97 cents in a given year. It costs me more to have this shit noted on my taxes returns and turn it over to the CPA.

So, I say FUCK M.ICKEY MO.USE!!!

And now, for the F' Me portion of the program . . .

I have been waaaaaay M.I.A. from my blog (well, this one at least), and my emails, and my workouts, and just generally absentminded. I don't like that. I miss the subsistence I had created for myself, even if I am moving onward and upward. But part of why I have been so M.I.A. lately is because I have been wrapped up in trying to help someone who has become very dear to me. This friend has been (in my blunt words), been operating in some other alternate reality . . . they weren't keeping aware of just what their situation was and is. I guess because I have/am/are kinda been there/done that, the things I said to this friend was a massive jolt to them, and it snapped them into acknowledging what their reality is, and examining themself and their options.

To put it mildly, I felt like a Dream Crusher. Like I sucked the wind out of someone's sails. I rained on their parade. I stole the rainbow they were painting.

I felt, and still do, feel terrible about all of this. I know I did the right thing by gently enlightening them (yes, stop snickering, I do actually have my gentle moments). It will help them in the long run to know the truth, and maybe they will learn from my own proactivity that burying your head in the sand won't fill an aching hole in your heart.

I want so badly to comfort this friend. And I have spent much free time over the past two weeks trying to do so. And to even help them acquire the mental and physical tools to empower themself. I have done so at risk to my personal well-being, and schluffed off some of my work responsibilities in order to do so. (I don't regret the latter).

I just feel crummy about all of it. I did nothing wrong, I am being uber-helpful to them.

I still feel like "DREAM CRUSHER" should be stamped on my forehead. SIGH.

Did You Get The Memo?

I have a confession to make. I could not be less interested in my job right now. Okay wait, that's not true entirely. I have a great job, have a terrific boss, and enjoy tremendous support (professionally and personally) from my Board of Directors and the general membership. Not to brag, but they all pretty much love me. And that's okay, 'cuz I have most certainly earned it -- not a snow job, I work hard for their interests, and have gotten results where others have not.

But damn, with so much going on in my personal life, I am lacking serious motivation when it comes to work stuff. I am going through the motions, and getting it all done, but I . . . just . . . I dunno . . . wish that tomorrow I could be independently wealthy so I could just pursue my personal life and interests. Which, let's be honest, might be fun for a couple of years, and then I would find myself getting drawn back into politics and the good fight (which I try to make entertaining for myself and those who pay me).

I have been praying for a few things lately, and on Saturday in church I added "be a better employee" to my list. Oi Vey.

Sucking Wind

So much has been going on in my life, and yet I am too stressed or busy or overwhelmed to speak of it.

Okay, so let me at least mark another reluctant weekend of home improvement progress . . . we managed the following:

• Bought more necessary crap for our pending trip to China (me, with help from my Mommy)
  
• Swept the basement (me)
  
• Swept the garage (Dr. J)
  
• Assembled the pressure-mounted baby gate (Me)
• Rust removal and repainting of porch railing (Dr. J, last week -- thank you!!!)
• Assembled the jogging stroller (joint effort)
• Assembled the regular stroller (me, last week)
• Ceiling fan with light mounted in baby's room (friend)
• Mounted the white wooden letters spelling baby's name on the wall above her bed (joint effort -- kee-rist what an ordeal, WHO KNEW?!?!)

Up next:

• Mounting of FOUR pressure-mounted baby gates (I really need to purchase this, I swear)
• More buying of necessary crap for trip
• Put foam bumpers on every conceivable sharp corner in living room, dining room, and baby's room
• Reorganize hall closet
• Rearrange linen closet, making room for baby's stuff and tub essentials
• Wash & soften up her sheets & pillowcases
• Steal lightweight suitcases from friends and family (USA weight limits on luggage are 55 pounds / China's are 44 pounds. Grrrr.)
• 6,413 other things that I keep re-remembering and re-forgetting. And reminding Mr. No-Short-Term-Memory (aka the lovely Dr. J) about them

Eh, at least we finally got our swimsuits for the trip. I can't believe I got a two-piece (top & bottom) AND a coverup skirt for the hotel, and managed to not have a self-loathing moment throughout it. WOW!

Miracles never cease, I guess.

IT'S OVER!!!!!!!!!! (And I couldn't be happier!)

Yeah, the Pens lost in game 6 tonight of the Stanley Cups Finals.

I won't have to be bothered by another friggin' hockey game until next season.

Thank you, Jesus.

I love sports. But hockey is my least favorite. I think I would almost rather watch NASCAR or Indy Car racing.

I don't care that the Pittsb.urgh Pe.nguins were in it. At least respect me for not jumping on the bandwagon like so many others. Would have been nice for the true local fans, granted.

YEAH, IT'S OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.S. Kirsten 2.0 tried to blackmail me by stating (in reply to an email I sent her about how glad I would be when all of this was over) that she'd rat me out to Dr. J about this -- LMAO! You think he doesn't KNOW this already?! Sweetie, remember, I HAVE NO FILTER!!!!!!!!!

Wa.l-M.art puts the squeeze on food costs

Yeah, so many people bitch and moan about W.al-Ma.rt, but THEY are doing things to help us with our grocery bill!!! And they are doing it in ways that are energy-conscious and capitalist-themed.

So SCREW YOU, haters!!!

We Own What?

We bit the bullet this weekend.

We known own (gulp), a lawnmower, a weedwhacker, some weed killer, two heavy duty 14 amp extension cords and the coil.

We also bought the one of the four hardware/wall-mounted baby gates we still need to buy and install. We received the soft, removable one as a shower gift. We bought the extra-tall top of the stairs one because it was on sale at L.owe's.

A lawnmower. Phuck.

Frightening, but I am more freaked out by the thought of us owning a lawnmower and weedwhacker than us having a child.

Dr. J, what does this say about us? (Other than "MOVE TO A TOWNHOUSE").