Two times two

I found this that I wrote and didn't post... from two years ago:  which means it's been four? Anyway:

 

Dude.  It's been two years (or more?) since I've blogged.  I wanted to look something up, and remembered that I had put it in an old blog--and found it!  Which made me miss some of the things I had been writing.  Not for others, but for myself.  This is basically like journaling for me, only I don't get hand cramps. So, I'm starting to journal again.  Now, the rest of this is my private thoughts, so stop reading.  ;-)  heheh.

People keep asking me if I'm pregnant... but that's basically been my whole life, so whatevs.  Notice that wasn't a denial?  Well, I guess you'll just have to wonder for the next nine months.  Just kidding, I'm not pregnant.  Not that I imagine very much will change when I am preggo. *snickering from the audience in my brain*  I guess I just have that "glow" about me.  Constantly.

On another note:  For our entire marriage, anytime Anton asks me a question I don't want to answer, I have been quite skilled in changing the subject or distracting him.  Recently, however, I've either lost my touch, or he's become more astute.  And so, I have been reverting to: "None of your precious business!" or "Why are you so nosy?!"
Which he finds funny.  And stops pursuing his line of questioning.  Until he gets so curious he can't handle life.

What do I even have to hide from my husband?  This blog, for one:
"What are you doing?"
"Just writing."
"To who?"
"No one."
"Writing a book?"
*snort* "No."
"Then what?"
"Don't you have work to do, why you standing there being so nosy?!"

He has access to this blog, so, clearly I'm being a weirdo.  But I also know he won't ever think to access it.  Unless I tell him about it.  Or someone else does.  *narrowing my eyes at you suspiciously*  Don't tell him.

Why did I make this a public blog?  Why do I even journal by way of blog?  Why am I full of lame questions?  I'm going to go with the blanket answer of... 42... and move on.

To these pictures, because I don't actually have anything else to move on to. Ha.

"Two... one, two... crack... eight!"

Life at home.  I do not feel guilty about staying home instead of contributing to the family income.  Even though I've always had a job (until 2 years ago when Andrei was born).

Okay, I do, but then I tell myself, if I left home for work, I'd have to pay someone else to raise my child.  Which would take up most if not all the money I would make.  Plus that person I'd be paying to raise my child would probably just stick him in front of a tv all day, and yell at him when she doesn't understand what he wants.  Would I love my job so much that I'm willing to go that rout?

And some of the most important parenting tactics go against human nature, which a lot of people don't even think about, much  less are willing to change.  There's no way I could get a good enough job where I could afford to pay someone who is a better mother than I am to my kid.

Then I feel better about myself, because I am wiling to admit that my human nature needs to be overcome so that my godly virtues can shine forth and whatnot.  Plus he's my kid and no one loves him more (except God, of course).  So I'm the best choice.

And then I forget about all of that and start feeling guilty again.  It's a stupid circle...

Speaking of being a mother-- the child and I had a few intense disagreements lately. He kept telling me he wanted butterfly on his bread, or his pancakes.

I told him I didn't have any butterflies, and anyway, I wouldn't put any on his bread if I did--and why did he think it was even acceptable to eat butterflies, nobody does that here.

Then I realized, he only asked for butterfly on his bread when he saw me making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for myself.  Oh.  He just can't remember the word peanut butter (or words, I guess), so he says the next closest thing.  Butterfly.  Right.  I keep saying peanut butter.  He keeps saying butterfly.  We'll get there.

Also, he's started arguing with himself... that's how he puts himself to sleep now.
His new favorite song is "Happy Birthday to You," which he walks around singing half the day.

To get out of the house, we've started going to the activities that the public library hosts.  And now I'm in a situation where I have the opportunity to socialize...
Andrei has no problem socializing... a little too much sometimes when he starts bossing the other kids around.  I, on the other hand, am perfectly content to sit and watch.  And not talk to people.  But I must look awkward to them, because they keep trying to include me in their conversations.

This is a good thing, though.  The missionaries have been issuing challenges to us (because they're missionaries) and I'm actually supposed to start talking to people I don't know.  So, maybe I'll make friends with these library moms.  And then maybe I'll be able to keep up with my kid.

The Late and the Up-to-date

Um, I found this beginning to blog post that I started like five months ago:

Anton and I are looking for an apartment.  We're being kind of slow about it, because then we'll be so broke it'll hurt.  And no one likes being that painfully broke.  :-)

I am not pregnant.  People keep speculating (not that that bothers me--I don't really mind).  It's not happening, though.  I don't mean ever, it will happen eventually.  But I need several months worth of becoming healthy before I even begin  to try, considering how sick I was from nursing.  So, that's that.

Anton's making borsh right now.  Every time he makes it, he gets an obscene amount of praise from people--it really feeds his ego.  But his borsh is dang good...

My calling as a Wolf Cub Scout leader is turning out to be kinda fun, actually.  I think they like me, too, because I'm in pretty tight with all their moms, and they said there's no way they're ever releasing me...

Andrei is a little sassy pants now.  Sometimes I wish he would not catch on to stuff so quickly, because it takes so much longer to un-teach.  But then I guess my job would be way easier if that were the case.

And now the updated updates:

We found an apartment.  Pretty broke.  But it's cool.

Apparently I got healthy real fast because I got pregnant pretty much the day we stopped trying not to.  Due in March.

All of my Wolves turned nine... and now I'm a Bear leader.

Andrei is way more sassy than he was even a month ago.  He always asks "Why?" or "Why not?"  When I tell him to stop doing something.  Only he doesn't care about the answer.  But he's still cute enough to get away with tons of crap.

Anyway, life is pretty great.  When I don't have to smell the stuff people cook.  ;-)

P.S.  I always give a fake name when I order food or whatever (it started out as an accident, but then it was fun).  My go-to name when I panic because I forgot to think of one is Beulah.  It always trips somebody up.  But I thought I was so clever this last time when I gave Hyacinth.  However, the Barnes and Noble waitress was totally on top of it.  She knew how to spell it, knew it's a flower, and told me she'd never met anyone named Hyacinth and that it's such a beautiful name.  Then I felt lame because my name is Erica instead of Hyacinth.  Heh!


Cleaning papa's shoes.

Bouncy house in Bismarck.

How the mall gets us to stay longer.

He loves the stuffies.

Waking up on the long road trip.

He says "Cheese" when he knows I'm taking a picture.  :-)

Cuddly when he's sick.

The cookie I commissioned when Ashley was selling them.

Help! My baby's getting too big!

Little guy got croup a while back.  He was still playful so it wasn't serious, but at night he was pretty miserable.  That animal-like cough was frightening.  It's been the saddest time of his whole little life... except when Jaxon bites him.

He had a great birthday.  He loved the attention, and mostly the balloons.  He loved Christmas, too.  Although Jaxon liked Andrei's presents more than Andrei did.  Andrei liked Logan's presents.  Greener grass, and all that, I suppose.

I've been sick for like a month and a half.  It's super annoying, and I'm pretty sure I've never been sick for this long before.  I also think it may have something to do with nursing.  I think I'm not keeping any nutrients for myself and that I need to slow it down.  I have been taking sage for like a week, but it's done nothing.  And it hurts to not nurse, so I'm being a little pansy about stopping.  I started with just doing it less often, like only when I'm putting him to sleep (but it still hurts).  My bloody noses stopped, so that's a good sign.

Funny Story #1:
Andrei is fascinated with toothbrushes.  He loves to chew on them.  And for some reason, he always seems to find Ashley's toothbrush.  She's gotten like five new toothbrushes so far.  She thinks someone is giving Andrei her toothbrush to play with.  Sounds like she's in denial about leaving her stuff in the wrong place, but it would be pretty funny if someone were giving Andrei her toothbrushes all the time...

Funny Story #2:
Sometimes I take Andrei to the mall to get him out of the house.  We go to Barnes and Noble where he plays in the kiddy section and I read.  One time (after he had fallen asleep), I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye, and looked over to see a teeny, tiny bird hopping on the carpet toward a corner (probably looking for refuge... in a corner).
Yes, a real bird in the book store.  Hopping on the carpet.  And she was the cutest freaking bird I've ever seen!  She was about as tall as my thumb, and as wide as three fingers.  I decided she was a girl, and often got lost, and loved books, just like me.

Of course... I had to catch the bird in the book store.  So after about five minutes of me crawling around and probably looking like a creeper, I stood tall and proud with my miniature prize.  As tall as five-feet-two inches can be, anyway.  I named her Dixxy Chickenlegs.

I would have taken her outside myself, but I didn't want to stray too far from my sleeping baby, so I peeked around the corner and caught the attention of the first Barnes and Noble sales associate I saw.  He was a young boy in that awkward stage of life, and I was about to make his day.
I held my cupped hands out to him when he approached and told him that I had a present for him.  He looked uncertain, probably because he thought I was hitting on him (which also would have made his day, I'm guessing).
Anyway, as I began transferring Dixxy Chickenlegs, I told him I had found a little bird and that I would leave her fate in his hands... literally.
His eyes grew wide, he stared down at his hands, and started freaking out.  "Oh, my gosh!"  Then he turned around and began addressing his compadres.  "Guys!  Guys, I have a BIRD!  This is the coolest day, EVER!"
I was sad to see my little Dixxy Chickenlegs go, but I knew that she had to learn to fly and strike out on her own... to live her happy little bird life.

Little smarty pants.


I'm not sure if these videos will work... but I tried.

The Latest and Greatest

Well, we're back the other way, now.  I guess home is wherever I make it.  :-)

I am now the wolf leader for cub scouts...  and I've decided eight-year-old boys do not exist--only imps who posses the bodies of small children.
They're keeping me on my toes.  I got lazy from working with teenagers the past couple years.

Andrei's new favorite attraction is the piano.  He thinks he's pretty good at it (probably because we sit there and act like he's Rachmaninoff when he plays).  He also loves to be chased.  Oddly enough, he is faster at crawling on hard surfaces than I am, so he actually gets away.

And funny baby story:

So, every morning Andrei gets out of bed and plays by himself for a while, and I ignore him so I can get another hour of sleep.  Well, one morning, he crawled into the bathroom and found a razor on the floor, which he carried around with him for like 15 minutes.
Finally, he came crawling back to me in bed because he was a little bit upset.  When he crawled onto the bed, I noticed blood spots where he was and thought that maybe Anton's toes were bleeding last night... weird.
Except the blood was on my baby's hands, and still gushing (it wasn't that much blood, but finger cuts apparently don't clot very quickly).  He had two little cuts, one on each pointer finger, which was surprising to me, considering how long he had it, and how he puts everything in his mouth...
Anyway, he couldn't keep the cute little baby band aids on, so we put some gauze on his hands and duct taped it, taping all his fingers, but leaving out the thumbs.
Then we went to the store.  :-)
He slept almost the whole time.  When we sat down to eat some delicious salads from Extreme Pita, though, he insisted on getting out of his stroller.  So, he sat on the table, getting down on his belly to eat things because he couldn't pick anything up with taped little hands... and yes, that is as sadly funny as you can imagine it.
Finally, a lady came over and asked why this baby's hands are taped.  I told her he'd cut his fingers and couldn't keep a band aid on, so I had to tape his fingers.  She felt so badly for him, she gave him ten dollars to buy a toy.
Yes, the first ten dollars my baby ever made was because of how pathetic he looked with duct taped hands... I still laugh every time I think about it.

Anyway, Anton likes his job.  He especially likes the six days off--he works eight days on, six days off.
And I realized I love Fall.  The realization came when I was going about my business at the grocery store and stopped because of some amazing apples I smelled.  I found they're called Zestar apples, which I had never heard of before, and it hit me that these apples smell like Fall.  They smell like a small-town harvest party outside in the sweetest fall weather.  :-)

Now I'll add some pictures, and I can't put a video in here, but supposedly, if I put the link in here you can watch it...

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0BwGO-4mlyHK5aHduTEttcmMyeGs

His taped hands...

Our July

Things that terrify my child to the point of fitful tears and desperately clinging to his mamma (or papa, whoever's closer):

--Vacuuming

--Blow-drying my hair

--Any kind of water touching him that is not contained in either the bathtub or a bottle he's drinking from.

The first two I understand; he's always hated loud things.  But the water...?  He loves bath time.  He splashes, crawls around chasing his toys, stands up and reaches for everything that isn't a toy... but every time I take him to a splash park, or to hang in the yard with a hose, he totally freaks. Ugh, and it's so hot, I really, really want to go swimming with him.

Things that tickle my child's fancy to the point of hilarious baby giggles:

--Singing and dancing

--Reading to him in funny voices

--Anything that happens while he's upside down.

He's pretty fun, even though he won't let me take him swimming.  :-)

Anton got really good grades on four very important tests this week.  He had been so nervous, and we're so relieved it's over and that he not only passed but did well (not everything's over, just those specific tests).  So, we went to Applebee's to celebrate (the nicest restaurant in town).  Kyle came, too.

When we got home, I touched my eyeball to get a hair or something out. Then I started freaking out (I forgot that I touched a jalapeno from Kyle's nachos).  I found some eye clearing solution... that turned out to have dried up.  So, Anton found one that wasn't dried up and I used it generously.
So generously that it got into my gaping mouth.  Then I had to rush to the kitchen to find something to eat because the solution tasted as gross as the jalapeno burned (and it was still burning, though not as badly).

And that's as exciting as it gets around here.  :-)

He loves books!

Wrapped himself up in Papa's shemag.

Proof that he doesn't hate all water.

Poor kid gets himself stuck almost daily.

He cleans the kitchen floor for us.

He never really knows what to do in the grass.

Still climbing trees.  :-)

Little Rant + Pictures of the Kid

So, the Supreme Court legalized gay marriage.  Great!  Now, they just need to legalize polygamy, polyandry, marriage between people and animals, and remove all age restrictions so that adults and children can marry, also.  After all, love is the only thing that matters, right?

Who cares if children get thrown under the bus because of this attack on the family?  As long as gay people love each other, everything is A-OK.

Bit of verbal irony there, in case anyone believes I'm serious.

This is the only scholarly article I could post, because I had it downloaded and put it on my google drive.  Hope it works.

https://drive.google.com/drive/my-drive

Little rant over.

Anyway, Anton is doing well in school, thanks to his no longer having a night job. And also, probably thanks to God, who might occasionally play jokes on us, but in the end helps us along.

Everything is swell.  Other than the fact that we have no idea what we're doing or where we're going in two months.  But we'll find something I'm sure.  At least the baby's happy.

The little one discovered pickles.  We love pickles.  We love that he loves pickles.  Works even better than a pacifier. :-)  Which, of course, means we find pickles in odd places.

He thinks he can stand on his own.  He pulls himself up, then lets go.  And falls, of course, but it's still cute.

I found the camera cord. Well, Anton found it.  So, here are a bunch of cute pictures.  I also had a few videos but I couldn't put them on here because, even though there is an attachment that is clearly for videos, Blogger doesn't actually want anyone to be able to post videos.  It's a joke, you see.

 The baby and his pickle.  He takes it with him everywhere he crawls until he looses it.

 This is what we wake up to every morning.  :-)

 I took away the pile of rice he worked so hard to crawl to... (the rice I spilled onto the floor).