Pepto-Bismol Pink

Yes, the blog has a new look. It's my attempt to inject new life into it. I hope to keep up with it more often. (Heard that one before?)

Ah...pink. Pepto-Bismol pink. Webhamster would love it if Teh Is preferred brown, black, blue, red, green, but the girl loves pink and she is pretty in pink.

Waffles denied

I was really looking forward to going out for breakfast with the Webhamster this morning on the last day of my kid-free birthday weekend. I've had a waffle craving since Friday night. We didn't make it out for breakfast yesterday since we were out and up 'til about 5:00 a.m. on Saturday. This morning, he had to go in to the office to cover because one guy's wife is in the hospital and the other guy decided to take a day off, and a few of the other guys are *cough, cough* sick on Super Bowl Sunday and can't/won't come in. It's especially frustrating because we have to drive all the way back to Illinois to pick up the girls--rather than meeting my parents halfway in Evansville, IN--because my father insists that there is so much ice he can't get his truck backed up from their driveway and get out of the alley. It will be a six-hour round trip instead of three hours this afternoon/evening. Grrr!

Somebody's coming in to relieve the Webhamster around 1:30 or so--we hope--but it's going to be a long day. And I have had no delicious waffles. Damn!

Vampires and Children

When I was a kid, I watched "Salem's Lot." Let me just say that it scared the bejeezus out of me. I had nightmares for years. But I've always loved vampire horror and fantasy, particularly the erotic/romantic and/or contemporary depictions [gets lost daydreaming about Kiefer Sutherland in "The Lost Boys," Gary Oldman in "Dracula," and cute lil Stephen Dorff and Parker Posey in the "Blade" series]. So now I'm watching "True Blood" on HBO, getting chuffed about seeing the latest "Underworld" movie, and reading the Sookie Stackhouse series and the "Twilight" books.

But I have a now three-year-old and an 11-month-old. So I have to hide my dirty little vamp addiction from them so they aren't traumatized, scarred for years. When Isabel saw one of the "Twilight" covers featuring a white feather covered in blood, she asked what it was, but before I could answer, she called it a "pretty feather from a red bird!" "That's right, honey! Maybe a cardinal?" We left it at that.

I'm back

...not that I ever went anywhere. I've just been so busy yada yada yada the past couple of months. I've been working on dissertation revisions, wrapping up paperwork on a major special event fundraiser at the charity where I work, taking care of a demanding two-and-three-quarters-year-old and a usually pleasant but teething nine-month-old, trying to keep my house in reasonable order, i.e., hampers not spilling over onto the floor, dealing with a few minor colds, flus, GI bugs, etc. (basically the fate of parents of young children who go to daycare), and more.

I was thinking that I need to get back into writing on my own blog and keeping up with my friends' blogs. Of course, with all the books on my list to read--and because there is only so much time--I don't know how faithful I can be in keeping this thing current.

Has anybody been watching "True Blood" on HBO? I have to get my hands on the Sookie Stackhouse vampire series. And, even though it's been branded teen girl fiction, I've been told by so many that the "Twilight" series is a must, too. My friend Angela said she read all four books in four straight nights, and she has three kids and a job.

Now that there is an end in sight on my academic journey--polish up the conclusions on the final draft of the dissertation this month and defend early Spring semester--there may just be a little extra time for me, though I would also like to get back into training for fencing.

Freckles

I've long since been resolved to being generally blotchy and covered in freckles and/or the occasional mole. It's part of being a pale ginger.

The webhamstress is thankfully much more religious than my parents were about dousing the kids in sunscreen. She doesn't slather as I am wont to do but she douses more often than I slather.

Despite our best efforts. Each of the girls has one freckle now. The Is took two years to get one. She seems to have more olive in her skin and will likely only pick up some freckles and moles.

Audrey picked one up in her first seven months. I am now resigned to dressing her like a Jawa until she gets so tall we have to dress her like a sand person instead (Please don't correct me and tell me it's a Tuscen Raider).

Batman Returns--Dark Knight on a Dark Night

Last night was the second time we've had a bat in our house in the past year-and-a-half. Humor me while I regale you with this epic tale.

It was about 11:00 p.m. and I was en route from the bathroom to the bedroom. We had just transferred a sleeping Isabel from our bed to her own 30 minutes earlier. As I approached our bedroom from the hallway, I saw the the Webhamster army-crawling across the floor underneath a towel. At first, I thought that he was playing the cave game with Isabel and was irritated, thinking (1) she woke up and got out of bed and (2) he's playing with her instead of trying to get her back to sleep! Soon I realized he was moving toward the door and hoarsely whispering, "Stay out! Stay out!" He got out of the room and shut the door.

Then it hit me. "Is there a bat in there or something?"

"Yes."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, knowing how he had felt badly about how the last bat episode ended with him tossing the rumpled feather of a dead critter off the porch.

"The same thing I did last time."

So, he proceeded to the basement, grabbed an old fencing mask, two tennis rackets, and a jacket, headed into our bedroom, and closed the door. As I cowered behind a second door a few feet down the hallway, I heard him come out five minutes later.

He carried the little beastie between the two rackets and hurled it near the side of the house. I made him go back and retrieve it because I wanted to see it. This one was larger than the previous visitor, but still about the size of a mouse with a little leathery black blanket swaddling its soft furry body. I really felt sorry for the poor thing, but cringed at the thought of waking up in the middle of the night with it crawling on me, panicking, being bitten, and then undergoing a series of rabies shots.

Staplehead and Pancakehead

One kid has this craniocephalaplasiapancakeheaditis thing that makes her head look like a heavily used crayon on one side. Special padded helmet and cork on fork, here we come.

The other now has staples in her head from two kids' careless accident running into her in a water fountain.

If the head wounds and traumas don't stop, I'm becoming frightful that we'll end up with a University of Kentucky fan or an Alex Keaton among our little family.

At least I'm becoming an experienced enough parent that I was able to stand calmly in an emergency room covered in my child's blood. I did not take so well the seeing of the open wound and effectively her skull when they cleaned out the wound to staple it back shut.