From our Irish family to yours!
Surviving motherhood...sometimes.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Sleep, sleep, sleep
What a day! Daylight savings time, a trip to the zoo with Buggy and our dear friends Christy and Zack, out to lunch, playing outside, no nap, birthday party at great-grandma and great-grandpa's house, and too much strawberry shortcake.
Today marks what must be only the 4th time in his short life that he has missed a nap. We love our schedule around here which is why Conor is sacked out, on the couch no less, at 5:30pm. I'm not sure if I should wake him so he goes to bed at the right time, or just leave him and hope to heaven he doesn't wake up at 5:30 tomorrow morning.
Oh, but isn't he adorable?
This kid is done!
Today marks what must be only the 4th time in his short life that he has missed a nap. We love our schedule around here which is why Conor is sacked out, on the couch no less, at 5:30pm. I'm not sure if I should wake him so he goes to bed at the right time, or just leave him and hope to heaven he doesn't wake up at 5:30 tomorrow morning.
Oh, but isn't he adorable?
Saturday, March 13, 2010
I am so proud
Some people automatically begin their careers immediately after high school or, more often, college. Others work their way into their careers though roundabout or circuitous routes. And some people always know what they want to do but find that first one thing and then another gets in the way.
Morgan has always wanted to be a firefighter. I think the drama and the excitement call to him in a way that other careers just don't. And he's a helper and a fixer and I can't think of a better job for fixing things and helping people.
But, as so often happens, life gets in the way and dreams are deferred. I'm learning that its never too late to go after what you really want in life, even if it means starting over, starting at the bottom.
Morgan, it seems, is learning this too. About a year ago, Morgan decided to look into joining the Portland Fire Department. He discovered that they only do hiring once every two years or so, but that you can get on a notification list to be invited to the testing process. In early January the notice came and Morgan had to submit his name and Social Security Number for a preliminary background test. Once he passed that (wooo hoo, my husband isn't a criminal!!!) he was invited to take the written/mental aptitude test.
He was nervous. Morgan doesn't consider himself a smart person. At least not "book smart" as we like to call it. And yeah, if he was given a standardized, scantron-type test, he probably wouldn't do so well. But as I tell him all the time he IS smart. He can visualize ideas and concepts in his head that boggle my mind. He can solve complex mathematical problems involving algebra and trigonometry and probably some other types of math that I don't even know exist. Something to do with a compound radius. Or whatever. He can build ANYTHING and his creative mind never stops imagining how to make things better and faster and stronger and more efficient.
So, back to the test. He took the test at the Portland Convention Center along with a mere FOUR THOUSAND other candidates. Yes. Four thousand.
And he passed.
Yesterday he received the notification and has been invited to the second phase of testing, the Physical Agility Test. The test will consist of 9 stations. To pass the test, he will have to complete all 9 stations (wearing 100 pounds of gear, I think) in 8 minutes, 2 seconds.
Good job, Babe. I am so, so, so, so, SO proud of you. You are an amazing man and I am so honored to be your wife.
Also, firefighters are damn sexy.
Morgan has always wanted to be a firefighter. I think the drama and the excitement call to him in a way that other careers just don't. And he's a helper and a fixer and I can't think of a better job for fixing things and helping people.
But, as so often happens, life gets in the way and dreams are deferred. I'm learning that its never too late to go after what you really want in life, even if it means starting over, starting at the bottom.
Morgan, it seems, is learning this too. About a year ago, Morgan decided to look into joining the Portland Fire Department. He discovered that they only do hiring once every two years or so, but that you can get on a notification list to be invited to the testing process. In early January the notice came and Morgan had to submit his name and Social Security Number for a preliminary background test. Once he passed that (wooo hoo, my husband isn't a criminal!!!) he was invited to take the written/mental aptitude test.
He was nervous. Morgan doesn't consider himself a smart person. At least not "book smart" as we like to call it. And yeah, if he was given a standardized, scantron-type test, he probably wouldn't do so well. But as I tell him all the time he IS smart. He can visualize ideas and concepts in his head that boggle my mind. He can solve complex mathematical problems involving algebra and trigonometry and probably some other types of math that I don't even know exist. Something to do with a compound radius. Or whatever. He can build ANYTHING and his creative mind never stops imagining how to make things better and faster and stronger and more efficient.
So, back to the test. He took the test at the Portland Convention Center along with a mere FOUR THOUSAND other candidates. Yes. Four thousand.
And he passed.
Yesterday he received the notification and has been invited to the second phase of testing, the Physical Agility Test. The test will consist of 9 stations. To pass the test, he will have to complete all 9 stations (wearing 100 pounds of gear, I think) in 8 minutes, 2 seconds.
Good job, Babe. I am so, so, so, so, SO proud of you. You are an amazing man and I am so honored to be your wife.
Also, firefighters are damn sexy.
Friday, March 12, 2010
And so it goes, folks, and so it goes
The very same day I write a glowing tribute to our stupid a$$ dog, he not only eats two Tupperware lids but then proceeds to vomit all over the carpet. Then, as if that isn't bad enough I notice that he has managed to somehow vomit BEHIND and ON my favorite chair in the living room.
Oh yes, I took pictures. Seriously? So disgusting. And this is why I call Tucker a Stupid, D%^*, A#%-hole, and tell him to go play in traffic.
Free dog, everyone. First one to my front door gets him.
The wide angle. At this point I'm wondering, what the hell is that? Notice its on the window, the window sill, the wall, the carpet AND the chair.
Oh no! The close up.
What I can only imagine must have been Tucker's view.
Oh yes, I took pictures. Seriously? So disgusting. And this is why I call Tucker a Stupid, D%^*, A#%-hole, and tell him to go play in traffic.
Free dog, everyone. First one to my front door gets him.
The wide angle. At this point I'm wondering, what the hell is that? Notice its on the window, the window sill, the wall, the carpet AND the chair.
Oh no! The close up.
What I can only imagine must have been Tucker's view.
Seriously, I hate this dog.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
T-T-T-T-Tucker*
Oh Tucker, I make no secret of the fact that I really do not like you very much. I've often called you very naughty words that can't be repeated here because this here's a family blog. You stink and inexplicably, you drool and you follow me every-damn-where I go and it drives me frickin' bonkers.
And you have fleas! Seriously? As if the constant expression of your anal glands, in the house no less, isn't enough, you have the audacity to go and get fleas? What's that? I should have given you flea treatment weeks ago? Whatevs dog, you need to get RESPONSIBLE.
You snore louder than my ear plugs can muffle, you bark at both squirrels and your own reflection. You have an uncanny ability to jump on only those visitors who really, REALLY don't want you to and always touch me with your wet and disgusting nose.
But.
But, you are so SWEET! Not that I can give you away, but if I could, I would have a line of people at the front door waiting to take you home. You are universally loved and adored by everyone but me. You are affectionate and gentle and so stupid it makes me shrug my shoulder and pat your dumb little head.
You can curl up into the tiniest black and white bundle or sprawl out and take up waaaaay more than your fair share of our queen size bed. And you bark and run in your sleep and, I'm sorry, it doesn't get cuter than that. You've never once been aggressive to people or animals and your dopey bark brings a smile to almost everyone.
Best of all, best, best, BEST of all, you allow Conor to commit all sorts of atrocities upon you and the only punishment you serve is a big ol' tongue kiss. You've been ridden, bounced upon, pushed, tackled and you've even had your man bits tugged on (yeah, that was a close one, Conor).
Through cats, dogs, moving and babies, you've remained our faithful and loving companion. Oh Bubba, how we love to hate you.
We can't help but love you.
*Sung like you would for Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia
And you have fleas! Seriously? As if the constant expression of your anal glands, in the house no less, isn't enough, you have the audacity to go and get fleas? What's that? I should have given you flea treatment weeks ago? Whatevs dog, you need to get RESPONSIBLE.
You snore louder than my ear plugs can muffle, you bark at both squirrels and your own reflection. You have an uncanny ability to jump on only those visitors who really, REALLY don't want you to and always touch me with your wet and disgusting nose.
But.
But, you are so SWEET! Not that I can give you away, but if I could, I would have a line of people at the front door waiting to take you home. You are universally loved and adored by everyone but me. You are affectionate and gentle and so stupid it makes me shrug my shoulder and pat your dumb little head.
You can curl up into the tiniest black and white bundle or sprawl out and take up waaaaay more than your fair share of our queen size bed. And you bark and run in your sleep and, I'm sorry, it doesn't get cuter than that. You've never once been aggressive to people or animals and your dopey bark brings a smile to almost everyone.
Best of all, best, best, BEST of all, you allow Conor to commit all sorts of atrocities upon you and the only punishment you serve is a big ol' tongue kiss. You've been ridden, bounced upon, pushed, tackled and you've even had your man bits tugged on (yeah, that was a close one, Conor).
Through cats, dogs, moving and babies, you've remained our faithful and loving companion. Oh Bubba, how we love to hate you.
You let me dress you in cardigans
And napkins.
You've accompanied us hiking
And camping,
And snowshoeing.
You've shared your bed.
More than once.
From this
To this,
We can't help but love you.
*Sung like you would for Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Catching Up
I need to get caught up on blogging for many different reasons. First, you'll notice my new format. The other was too busy I thought. When and if I have the time and inclination I might spice it up a bit more but that will probably far exceed my technical abilities. Also, if all works as planned, check out my new signature at the bottom of the page. How cool is that? Thanks, as always, to Niki who teaches me everything I need to know about how this thing called the Internet works.
I feel like we've been very busy lately yet I really have nothing to show for it. Conor and Morgan were both sick with Conor having yet another ear infection (second in 4 weeks, YAHOO!!!!) and Morgan had to go to San Jose for work for a few days last week. Honest to God, I don't know how single parents do it. Those three days were so challenging. It wasn't that I was doing double the work, somehow I was doing triple or quadruple the work I normally do. I won't lie, Baby Girl and I had a beer. Well, not the whole thing, but yeah, my sanity required it. DON'T JUDGE ME!
Anyway, Morgan is feeling better and Conor is still mending but it looks like the ear infection is gone at least. Bad news it that I think I am coming down with it now. I was so sure I had missed it too. Oh well, such is life. At least the life of a parent.
I posted a while ago about Conor's funny beer comment. Seriously, this kid keeps Morgan and I in stitches every single day. I had to post these funny things he's said recently so that grandparents (and others) can enjoy them but also so that Morgan and I can go back years from now and still be entertained by the amazing and witty things our boy says.
Last Weekend:
We had just woken Conor up from a nap - I know, cardinal sin but he had already slept for three and a half hours and I needed him to sleep that night! - and told him he was going to get to go see Buggy and Uncle Keenan. As a bit of a backstory, Buggy is pretty dang cool in Conor's eyes, but Uncle Keenan, well he's Supremo Coolio, the bees knees, AND the cat's meow in Conor's mind. So, back to Saturday afternoon. Conor goes, "We go see Buggy and Uncle Keenan? That's AWESOME!"
Monday Night:
One of Conor's favorite things to do is look through our wedding and honeymoon pictures. He gets a kick out of identifying all the people in the pictures. Super good times. So we're sitting there, the picture of an idyllic family and Conor points to the photos and goes, "Oh, those pee-tures are REALLY NICE."
and then...
"Oh Mommy's so cute." And the kid speaks the truth!
And, in baby news, I'm about 23.5 weeks which means I'm THIS close to the 6 month mark. And my belly is getting really big. At least that what people are very sure to tell me when they see me. THANKS FOLKS! Your belly looks big too!
See, I'm not THAT big
ANYWAY...I feel great still and, having been determined to enjoy the hell out of this pregnancy, really feel good about being pregnant this time around (knocking wood and crossing fingers).
A few days ago Morgan and I were discussing names and he, are you ready for this???, gave me FULL NAMING AUTHORITY. I know! I was just as surprised as you are. Morgan has VERY strongly felt opinions on LOTS OF THINGS and for him to relinquish his ability to tell me that my ideas are stupid. Well, it was huge. (Just teasing, Babe. I mean, a little.)
So, now I have all this power and I am alternately drunk with it (what if we name her Bertha Ilene? BWAHAHAHAHA!) and terrified by it (I have to do this all by myself? But what if I choose wrong? What if she hates her name and then hates me and then, and then, and then?). But, no pregnancy hormones are NOT bothering my right now, why do you ask?
But, after much deliberation and thought and careful scouring of baby name lists, I think I have settled on Baby Girl's name. I'm not going to disclose it just yet because I want to sit with it a bit longer and make sure that I've picked the right one. I think though, that its a nice blend of family history, uniqueness and a reflection on our Irish heritgage. So, stay tuned in the coming weeks.
School is almost over for Winter Term after which I'll have a week off for Spring Break (remember when we used to DO stuff for Spring Break?) and then I begin MY LAST TERM OF MY UNDERGRADUATE COLLEGE EXPERIENCE. Best of all, I only have to take 8 credits 4 of which will be the online variety meaning I will only have to heft my rapidly growing self (see above) to school for 2 hours twice a week. And then, a mere 12.75 years after I began college, I will graduate. This is advance warning that I fully plan to walk across that stage to accept my diploma. Maybe that's silly and maybe the ceremony is just a formality, but these last two years have been hard and a whole lotta work and a whole lotta money and a whole lotta time away from Conor and I want to be able to have that symbolic moment when I walk across that stage and say "I did it!"
That's all for now, folks. Walsh, out!
Ooh, the signature worked! I'm so savvy. :)
I feel like we've been very busy lately yet I really have nothing to show for it. Conor and Morgan were both sick with Conor having yet another ear infection (second in 4 weeks, YAHOO!!!!) and Morgan had to go to San Jose for work for a few days last week. Honest to God, I don't know how single parents do it. Those three days were so challenging. It wasn't that I was doing double the work, somehow I was doing triple or quadruple the work I normally do. I won't lie, Baby Girl and I had a beer. Well, not the whole thing, but yeah, my sanity required it. DON'T JUDGE ME!
Anyway, Morgan is feeling better and Conor is still mending but it looks like the ear infection is gone at least. Bad news it that I think I am coming down with it now. I was so sure I had missed it too. Oh well, such is life. At least the life of a parent.
I posted a while ago about Conor's funny beer comment. Seriously, this kid keeps Morgan and I in stitches every single day. I had to post these funny things he's said recently so that grandparents (and others) can enjoy them but also so that Morgan and I can go back years from now and still be entertained by the amazing and witty things our boy says.
Last Weekend:
We had just woken Conor up from a nap - I know, cardinal sin but he had already slept for three and a half hours and I needed him to sleep that night! - and told him he was going to get to go see Buggy and Uncle Keenan. As a bit of a backstory, Buggy is pretty dang cool in Conor's eyes, but Uncle Keenan, well he's Supremo Coolio, the bees knees, AND the cat's meow in Conor's mind. So, back to Saturday afternoon. Conor goes, "We go see Buggy and Uncle Keenan? That's AWESOME!"
Monday Night:
One of Conor's favorite things to do is look through our wedding and honeymoon pictures. He gets a kick out of identifying all the people in the pictures. Super good times. So we're sitting there, the picture of an idyllic family and Conor points to the photos and goes, "Oh, those pee-tures are REALLY NICE."
and then...
"Oh Mommy's so cute." And the kid speaks the truth!
And, in baby news, I'm about 23.5 weeks which means I'm THIS close to the 6 month mark. And my belly is getting really big. At least that what people are very sure to tell me when they see me. THANKS FOLKS! Your belly looks big too!
See, I'm not THAT bigA few days ago Morgan and I were discussing names and he, are you ready for this???, gave me FULL NAMING AUTHORITY. I know! I was just as surprised as you are. Morgan has VERY strongly felt opinions on LOTS OF THINGS and for him to relinquish his ability to tell me that my ideas are stupid. Well, it was huge. (Just teasing, Babe. I mean, a little.)
So, now I have all this power and I am alternately drunk with it (what if we name her Bertha Ilene? BWAHAHAHAHA!) and terrified by it (I have to do this all by myself? But what if I choose wrong? What if she hates her name and then hates me and then, and then, and then?). But, no pregnancy hormones are NOT bothering my right now, why do you ask?
But, after much deliberation and thought and careful scouring of baby name lists, I think I have settled on Baby Girl's name. I'm not going to disclose it just yet because I want to sit with it a bit longer and make sure that I've picked the right one. I think though, that its a nice blend of family history, uniqueness and a reflection on our Irish heritgage. So, stay tuned in the coming weeks.
School is almost over for Winter Term after which I'll have a week off for Spring Break (remember when we used to DO stuff for Spring Break?) and then I begin MY LAST TERM OF MY UNDERGRADUATE COLLEGE EXPERIENCE. Best of all, I only have to take 8 credits 4 of which will be the online variety meaning I will only have to heft my rapidly growing self (see above) to school for 2 hours twice a week. And then, a mere 12.75 years after I began college, I will graduate. This is advance warning that I fully plan to walk across that stage to accept my diploma. Maybe that's silly and maybe the ceremony is just a formality, but these last two years have been hard and a whole lotta work and a whole lotta money and a whole lotta time away from Conor and I want to be able to have that symbolic moment when I walk across that stage and say "I did it!"
That's all for now, folks. Walsh, out!
Ooh, the signature worked! I'm so savvy. :)
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