Archives for August 2006

Picture Perfect?

This past weekend, I decided to quit procrastinating and book an appointment for Pumpkin’s one year pictures. I called a well-known “portrait studio” in our mall, booked a 10:45 appointment (which I thought to be an ideal time: post-nap, pre-lunch), and arranged for my mom to join me to help make silly faces at Pumpkin while I kept her falling off the little table.

I should have known it would not be a smooth experience. In fact, at the end of it all, I was seriously ready to injure the other mommies, so you know it was a bad time.

Because I’m chronically punctual (or “terminally early” – you take your pick), we arrived about ten minutes before our appointment time. I checked in, filled out the registration, got Pumpkin changed into her outfit, then waited. And waited. And waited.

It was clear pretty early on that the time was meaningless to the staff of the portrait studio. There were moms EVERYWHERE and of course, children everywhere. The kids were whining, fussing, and if they had a sibling, they were fighting. While I’m always thrilled when it’s someone else’s child acting out, and not my own, I was still getting annoyed. Moms were showing up to pick up photos without their information (because the portrait studio is completely incapable of finding your photos if you have not remembered your sitting number). In fact, they spent twenty minutes trying to locate one mom’s pics (and I’m not exaggerating – it was ridiculous).

By the time they had called our name, about forty-five minutes after our scheduled appointment time, my patience was gone, and I was not a happy camper. Lunch time was near, and I was really fearful that Pumpkin’s mood would not hold. Hubby showed up while we waited with lunch for us (whatta guy, eh?), so we were able to give Pumpkin pieces of sandwich bread to hold her over.

Fortunately, Pumpkin was a champ – she worked that camera like nobody’s business. Of course, it helped that I have mastered the ultimate method to making my girl laugh: the fake sneeze. The photographer even said I should come in and “sneeze” at all the kids coming to get their pictures done. Yes, it worked that well.

We finished taking pictures, and then we went back out to the waiting room, to wait EVEN MORE. I fed Pumpkin some applesauce and some of my sandwich while we continued to wait. By the time I had selected my photos and was at the cashier waiting to pay, well, I don’t mind saying, I was seething. Just a wee bit. I was mad.

Those that know me know that I tend not to be confrontational, and I tend not to make a big fuss over stuff. Yes, I’m a doormat. But after spending over an hour in Picture Hell, I was pretty convinced I was going to walk out of that place with SOMETHING to show for the inconvenience they imposed on me. And by golly, I asked for The Manager.

The Manager was dismissive and basically foisted me off on a coworker, who in turn gave me a coupon for free pictures. Three sheets free. So – maybe it wasn’t the heartfelt apology I’d hoped for, but free stuff is good.

(Note: Pumpkin’s pictures were ADORABLE – and I can’t wait until we get them back – it was hard to choose just a few poses. You can’t tell by looking at them that she is in the midst of a massive teething spree).

Rain in the Forecast?

Is it wrong of me to be hoping that it rains this afternoon, starting around, oh, say 5 p.m. and stopping at about 7? (FYI – You’re supposed to tell me, “No Sarah, it’s not wrong, but please, oh please, tell us why you’re doing the rain dance?”).


Well, since you asked, I’m rain dancing because Hubby signed up for a softball league. A neighbor of ours asked him to join, and Hubby apparently enthusiastically said he was interested – without telling me. Then, said neighbor called Hubby, to tell him there was indeed a spot open on the team. Hubby wasn’t home, but I was, which is how it came to be that the neighbor totally busted Hubby, and I found out.

I’m not opposed to the softball team thing – actually, I think it’s a great idea – Hubby always complains that he hardly exercises, and he’s more motivated by having a workout partner or a team depending on him, so this is probably ideal. BUT, Hubby also said that games would be on Thursday nights, and as you can tell – It’s not Thursday. It’s Sunday. Hubby sprang it on me yesterday (after my gruesome day) that they would have practice tonight at 6, which means that after Hubby gets out of work, comes home to change his clothes, throws down some grub (all without sitting down at the table with me and the girls, no doubt), he’ll be dashing right out the door to hit some softballs.

(Is that thunder I hear? No. Just a neighbor’s motorcycle – crap!).

There are days that I can totally groove on my motherhood thing – get housework done, get a decent meal on the table, not rip my hair out. This weekend, I’m short on patience, I’m short on sleep, and The Princess has decided that I am just too boring. Pumpkin has decided that after not getting ANY teeth for her first year of life, she would just get them all at once. Between me and the kids, I’m not sure who has been whining the loudest. It’s been hard, so needless to say, I’m not super-dee-duper happy about softball practice.

Rain rain rain rain rain.

It would help if I had a hobby that would get me out of the house at least one night per week. But I have no idea what I would even want to do – I tend to be more interested in solitary pursuits – curling up with a good book makes me happy, but I have no interest in being in a book club with my book choices somewhat dictated for me. I enjoy exercising and a great workout – but I don’t necessarily want company. I love wandering the malls, or trolling Barnes and Noble – but I don’t want to spend a boatload of money (not to mention, I live in the middle of nowhere, so there’s nothing just “right around the corner” – every place I could go would be at least 20 minutes of driving).

(Suggestions anyone? How to get Sarah out of the house?)

The sky is clouding over and so I’ve got my fingers crossed for enough rain to flood the ball field.

No Rest for the Weary

This morning, it was as though the gods had conspired against me and that my fate was to be awake before six a.m. I was not a happy camper. Hubby, a member of the National Guard, has training one weekend a month, and this weekend is it for August. He set the alarm for some ungodly hour… and when it went off, proceeded to hit snooze – TWICE! Then, at about 5:30, the alarm went off again.

And it kept going.
And going.
And going.

Until I had to roll over to his side of the bed, realizing that he had gotten up, headed downstairs without turning the alarm off! I turned off the alarm, and tried to settle back in.

It was not in the cards.

Two minutes later, The Princess came in to our room asking, “Mommy, can we go downstairs to watch a show and have some juice?” (This is her morning routine). I told her it was still twenty minutes too early (horrible as it is, six o’clock is the earliest we’ll allow her to be up and around – and that’s still too early as far as I’m concerned). I told her she could lay next to me for awhile until it was time to get up.


Hubby came back upstairs, shuffled The Princess back to her room (I have no idea why, and didn’t want to argue about it), gathered up some stuff he needed, and headed back downstairs.


Pumpkin started crying.

So, by 5:50, the whole family was awake, and downstairs. Needless to say, I’m exhausted. Pumpkin is currently napping, but The Princess refuses to (she’s at that age – if she takes a nap, she’ll be up until 10!). I’m counting down the hours until Hubby gets home and I can turn on my “Off Duty” light and have some downtime.

Grand Opening

A new Toys R Us has opened in town. It’s in my living room. Yes – that’s right. My living room. Pumpkin’s birthday was exactly a week ago, and following the festivities over the weekend, we now own everything Fisher Price ever made – and it’s all in my living room.

I admit, the mess and chaos of toys is starting to get to me. I tripped over a Stride-to-Walk dealy bob last night and hurt two toes on my right foot. I then jokingly told Hubby that we have to run the gauntlet to get through the living room – tiptoe around the Peek-a-blocks, leap over the push-to-ride hippo (yes, she got two push-to-ride types of toys — The Princess has adopted the hippo as “hers”, though), crawl around the Learning Chair, and hover near the wall to get past all the other various toys that she had before her birthday rolled around.

One could get seriously hurt in there.