<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:37:02.160-07:00</updated><category term='sleep schedule'/><category term='country life'/><category term='post-pregnancy'/><category term='Maria'/><category term='finances'/><category term='college costs'/><category term='feeding solids'/><category term='Chicago'/><category term='scarring my child for life'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='sickness'/><category term='Mark&apos;s parents'/><category term='wedding'/><category term='baby gear'/><category term='gender'/><category term='cloth diapering'/><category term='Mom of the Year moments'/><category term='greenness'/><category term='Facebook'/><category term='bottle'/><category term='child-rearing articles'/><title type='text'>Momification</title><subtitle type='html'>Having my first child at the approximate age of 33.8192 has been an interesting experience to say the least.  This blog is an incomplete attempt to vent, process and chronicle the ups, downs, ins and outs of becoming a parent.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-978497899728952823</id><published>2008-09-28T19:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T20:11:55.600-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='greenness'/><title type='text'>Grandma was Green before Green was Trendy</title><content type='html'>I must confess that I stole that title from an article in our electric coop newsletter.  There is something very appealing about the idea of doing "green" in an old, as opposed to new, fashion.  If pressed to describe that appeal in words I think the best I could do is to say that sometimes there was a lot of wisdom in the way things were done.  Take for example drying clothes on a line.  It saves energy (clothes dryers are so intrinsically inefficient that there is no Energy Star rating for them!), gives one a chance to be outdoors and get some exercise, and produces whiter clothes (sun bleaches out some stains), naturally fresh-smelling clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maria's mobility I think is ultimately what prompted me to start reconsidering some of the products we have around the house.  I bought a book entitled &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Green-Housekeeping-Ellen-Sandbeck/dp/1416544550/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1222654772&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Green Housekeeping&lt;/a&gt; which I like in part because many of the suggestions seem to be grandma-style green.  Some immediate changes were getting rid of the kitchen sponge out of sheer terror (read the kitchen chapter!), ditching the fabric softener for similar reasons and buying some vinegar, hydrogen peroxide and spray bottles for making cleaners.  I boxed up all my old cleaners and gave them away on Craig's list and was happily surprised to have freed up almost an entire cupboard of extra space!  I went on Amazon and found some greener &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Seventh-Generation-Detergent-Lavender-25-Ounce/dp/B000E1G02W/ref=pd_bbs_sr_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=home-garden&amp;amp;qid=1222655551&amp;amp;sr=8-2"&gt;dish&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ecover-Automatic-Dishwashing-Tablets-18-Ounce/dp/B000JZ6WMG/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=grocery&amp;amp;qid=1222655411&amp;amp;sr=8-3"&gt;dishwasher&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Biokleen-Premium-Plus-Laundry-Powder/dp/B000CBGATC/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=home-garden&amp;amp;qid=1222655500&amp;amp;sr=8-3"&gt;laundry&lt;/a&gt; detergents that are economical (in large quantities) and work well (an important criteria!).   Other suggestions like healthier types of flooring are good to know in case we ever do renovations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The initial time and energy investment in making the change seem to be paying off.  Now I'm not so worried that Maria will accidentally ingest some terrible poison.  And I can actually clean the bathroom while Maria is running around upstairs because I'm not concerned she'll be breathing in something harmful.  I don't worry I'm going to kill all the good bacteria in the septic system.  Every once in a while I'll discover some other habit or product I could change (like anti-bacterial handsoap, see below), but continuing in the new habits doesn't take extra time or effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I read an article on the proliferation on antibiotic-resistant bacteria, a problem which is  due in part to overuse of antibiotics and might be exacerbated by antibacterial soaps.  Mark loves our foaming hand soap dispensers but all I could find to fill them with was antibacterial soap... quite a quandary... domestic bliss with mutant-killer bacteria or domestic discord with a safer soap?!?   Then (probably from the Green Housekeeping book) the idea came to put some Dr. Bonner's liquid soap (highly concentrated)  and water in the hand soap dispensers.  Happily it foams perfectly, sadly Mark doesn't like the pine scent.  But hopefully he'll be able to live with it until this bottle runs out.       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another grandma-green sort of idea is to buy used... used clothes, used furniture, used whatever.  The idea is that by buying used items you're not contributing (as much) to the demand for the production of these items, thereby saving resouces and energy.  How perfectly this works, I don't know.  It can take more time and effort to buy used, and that's the challenge for me.  Here's an interesting take on the whole production/consumption cycle called &lt;a href="http://www.storyofstuff.com/"&gt;The Story of Stuff&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-978497899728952823?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/978497899728952823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=978497899728952823' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/978497899728952823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/978497899728952823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/09/grandma-was-green-before-green-was.html' title='Grandma was Green before Green was Trendy'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-1475166275242022444</id><published>2008-09-27T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T20:22:30.379-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='post-pregnancy'/><title type='text'>Pregnancy: the Aftermath</title><content type='html'>I've been mulling over this post for a while, but wasn't quite ready to write it until now.  Maria is 18 months old and I think I've (mostly!) gotten back to my old self, but it's taken a long while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All sorts of strange things happen to one's body while it is growing a baby.  The weight gain is a given, but what about gaining a shoe size?  Crazy, but true!  My shoes got pretty tight toward the end of pregnancy, but I figured I was just retaining water.  Yet as the summer wore on, I was wearing holes in my poor feet by wearing my old shoes.  In the end I gave away all my closed-toed shoes in one fell swoop so I'd stop thinking that maybe today they'd fit.   I sometimes still miss them!  I guess carrying all that extra weight around for 9 months did something permanent to my feet.  I just hope I don't gain a shoe size with every pregnancy or I'll be having to special order shoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the worst after-effect of pregnancy was losing my hair.  Yes, about 4 months after Maria was born my hair started coming out by the handful.  I think in the end I lost 1/3 to 1/2 of my hair.  People normally shed a certain number of hairs every day, but apparently when a woman is expecting she just doesn't shed any hair.  Then after the baby is born she starts losing hair at a rapid clip to make up for not losing any for 9 months.  The hair loss rate returns to normal and usually no one is any the wiser (as long as she cleans up the drain after a shower!).  Alas, for some women (like me!) the hair loss is pretty severe.  I chopped my hair short and wore scarves for months.  It was a very depressing time.  I don't know how men feel about hair loss, but at least it seems somewhat normal for it to happen to some men depending on their genes.  But for a woman to lose her hair, that' s just not expected, not perceived as beautiful, and very, very hard to accept.  Thankfully it has grown back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's the weight gain.  Friends told me it takes about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;x&lt;/span&gt; months to lose the baby weight where &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;x &lt;/span&gt;= 6 or 9 or some other number around there.  When Maria was about 8 months old I realized I had a long way to go and that I hadn't been losing any weight for the last 6 months.  It didn't matter that the holidays were coming up, it was time to face reality and do something about it.  I joined Weight Watchers.  It took about 10 more months of going to meetings, writing down what I ate, learning all about realistic potion sizes, well-balanced meals, strategies for dealing with cravings and how to get back on the wagon after failures.  A few weeks ago it all paid off. I reached my goal weight (several pounds BELOW what I weighed before I had Maria) and became a Lifetime Member of Weight Watchers!  Yeah! It was a very happy moment and though I suppose I could have lost the weight a lot faster, I'm really glad I stuck with it, learned some valuable lessons and reached my goal in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My assessment in the end is that this was all worth it to have a sweetie like Maria in my life.  She's been getting more into "pretend play" as the books call it.  She found a (clean!) kleenex on the floor today and went over to the cat to wipe his nose!  She put her stuffed gorilla in her high chair and proceeded to try to feed him goldfish.  Her aim was a bit off because some of them were going more up his nose and in his eyes.  Poor gorilla!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-1475166275242022444?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/1475166275242022444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=1475166275242022444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/1475166275242022444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/1475166275242022444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/09/pregnancy-aftermath.html' title='Pregnancy: the Aftermath'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-2860271577505101023</id><published>2008-09-26T19:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T20:10:10.101-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Facebook'/><title type='text'>On Joining Facebook</title><content type='html'>Yeah, I know... I resisted for a long time.  Even when Mark joined, I held out.  I've got better things to do than waste even MORE time on the computer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then Jenn, one of our adopt-a-students from church, told me about an 80s party and sent me a link to the pictures.  And I couldn't see them without joining Facebook, so I caved.   I had to see that 80s party.  After being in junior high and high school for a large part of that decade full of fashion mistakes, I was curious to see how people not even born in the 80s would interpret it.  And they were right on, for the most part... big hair, ponytails off the the sides, legwarmers, and even sweatshirts with the necks cut out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, since I'm now on Facebook I feel the need to report back to the non-Facebook world and say that it's been VERY wierd.  A couple of days after I joined Mark mentioned offhand in an almost apologetic maner about having sent me a "relationship request" on Facebook and that I had to OK it.  I was curious so I logged on and sure enough, there was a relationship request from Mark.  Apparently in addition to being "friends" with someone, you can state how you know each other or even be in a "relationship"!  I clicked to accept the married setting and got the oddest message, "You are now in a relationship with Mark Dewing".  Now?!?!  What the heck?!?! We've been married for 4 years and have a child together for crying out loud! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's not the end of the wierdness.  Once you start becoming "friends" with people and writing on their walls, people know you are on Facebook (FB) and the friend requests start rolling in.   I'm now FB friends with two of the pastors at my church.  And all sorts of old high school and college friends.  The crazy part is getting friend requests from people and for the life of me I can't remember who they are!  I've just been saying yes and then looking at their walls and pictures to try and figure it out.  I became "friends" with someone I went to high school with and then got really stressed out about it!  Basically I realized we couldn't have been more than aquaintances when we were in high school because she was one of the popular people and I was a social misfit (in high school, hopefully not now!) who hardly talked to people.   All those feelings of being a huge nerd came flooding back when I thought about her looking at my profile.   Mark informed me that I can "unfriend" someone, but of course then she'd know and how would that look?  Anyway, this person wrote on my wall about how much she appreciated me tutoring her in chemistry (I'd completely forgotted about that!) and so the whole thing morphed into something good.  And I'm so thankful I'm no longer the person I was in high school!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-2860271577505101023?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/2860271577505101023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=2860271577505101023' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/2860271577505101023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/2860271577505101023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-joining-facebook.html' title='On Joining Facebook'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-7142963239589958722</id><published>2008-08-23T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T20:41:47.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mystery &amp; Mr. Amazing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDXj2QCq6I/AAAAAAAAAHs/_VuRPo1zpr0/s1600-h/IMG_0859.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDXj2QCq6I/AAAAAAAAAHs/_VuRPo1zpr0/s320/IMG_0859.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237923377490078626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In my &lt;a href="http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/08/little-slice-of-seattle-heaven.html"&gt;last post&lt;/a&gt; I wrote about spending time in Seattle with a good friend.  This was possible only because my husband is truly amazing and was willing to be on Maria duty 24/7 while I was gone.  No mean feat for someone who likes to sleep in since Maria often wakes up at 5:30am and won't go back to sleep until it's time for her afternoon nap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly before I left for Seattle Mark was getting Maria ready for bed.  I came in to kiss her goodnight when I noticed something was wrong... VERY wrong.  It was so wrong and so funny that I took a couple of pictures.  See if you can figure out what was wrong!                                                                                                                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDYSo4mRdI/AAAAAAAAAH8/zbil0OgvKvw/s1600-h/IMG_0860.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDYSo4mRdI/AAAAAAAAAH8/zbil0OgvKvw/s400/IMG_0860.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237924181355939282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-7142963239589958722?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/7142963239589958722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=7142963239589958722' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7142963239589958722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7142963239589958722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/08/mystery-mr-amazing.html' title='A Mystery &amp; Mr. Amazing'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDXj2QCq6I/AAAAAAAAAHs/_VuRPo1zpr0/s72-c/IMG_0859.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-8927828683309617851</id><published>2008-08-23T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T20:26:13.282-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='country life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom of the Year moments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><title type='text'>A Little Slice of Seattle Heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDSbbdT2hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/Ltp_3v-z_Ms/s1600-h/IMG_0862.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 230px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDSbbdT2hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/Ltp_3v-z_Ms/s320/IMG_0862.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237917735300880914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last weekend I went to Seattle for 5 days to visit my very good friend Alicia.  Seattle is gorgeous in August and Alicia is everything I could hope for in a friend, but what made time with Alicia in Seattle so special is that I left Maria behind!  Mark and my mom took good care of her and I missed her a bit, but not nearly as much as I thought I would!  Again, no mom-of-the-year awards for me, but it was heavenly to eat food while it was still hot, have long, uninterrupted conversations, change no diapers,  eat at nice restaurants without fear, stay out late, shop till we dropped, sleep when tired and wake up late!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDTHtMPT4I/AAAAAAAAAHc/wqBhfh3TKKg/s1600-h/IMG_0884.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDTHtMPT4I/AAAAAAAAAHc/wqBhfh3TKKg/s320/IMG_0884.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237918495975362434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our first morning we walked from Alicia's apartment with a Space Needle view over to Pike Place market for a breakfast of fresh berries and pastries.  We ate dim sum, talked, shopped at some favorite stores that sadly don't exist in my town, soaked up the sun and picnicked at two different beaches, talked, walked all over the place, talked, and even redecorated Alicia's living room!  We got some funny looks when carrying the curtain rods home from Bed, Bath and Beyond, but overall I loved living in the city for 5 short days.  Very different from my usual walks at home which involve looking at the corn and soybean fields and needing to drive just about everywhere.  Living in the country has its advantages, but city life sure is attractive!  And time with a good friend is priceless... thank you Alicia!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDSjTwy-1I/AAAAAAAAAHM/EGBx-rskCm0/s1600-h/IMG_0864.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDSjTwy-1I/AAAAAAAAAHM/EGBx-rskCm0/s320/IMG_0864.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237917870674082642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDTgLcKRVI/AAAAAAAAAHk/EyRxOAOGz-I/s1600-h/IMG_0875.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDTgLcKRVI/AAAAAAAAAHk/EyRxOAOGz-I/s320/IMG_0875.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237918916412065106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-8927828683309617851?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/8927828683309617851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=8927828683309617851' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/8927828683309617851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/8927828683309617851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/08/little-slice-of-seattle-heaven.html' title='A Little Slice of Seattle Heaven'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SLDSbbdT2hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/Ltp_3v-z_Ms/s72-c/IMG_0862.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-91949370934829008</id><published>2008-07-28T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T18:36:22.276-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maria'/><title type='text'>16 Months, 1 Week and a Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SI5yNZX9UEI/AAAAAAAAAGs/4O7IjmnabhE/s1600-h/IMG_0742.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SI5yNZX9UEI/AAAAAAAAAGs/4O7IjmnabhE/s320/IMG_0742.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228241791898964034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yep, that's how old she is on this very special day when she is WALKING!  On her own!  Not holding anyone's finger!  As you can see from the pictures, she's VERY pleased with herself and so is her mommy!   I was truly worried she still wouldn't be walking at her 18 month appointment and that her pediatrician would be trying to break it to me gently that she needed physical therapy.  Huge twin sighs of relief and joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SI5yVwA2xHI/AAAAAAAAAG0/2reNCIQpYvQ/s1600-h/IMG_0745.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SI5yVwA2xHI/AAAAAAAAAG0/2reNCIQpYvQ/s320/IMG_0745.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228241935415034994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In case you're wondering why the comforter from our bed is on the living room floor, here's the story.  For the past couple of weeks Maria has been enjoying attempting to walk on our bed in the mornings as her tired parents try and get a few more minutes of shut eye.  I think the appeal is that it's soft and so falling doesn't hurt.  She sits between us, pulls up to standing and then bounces or maybe takes a step or two before collapsing in a giggling heap.   Since she frequently falls on Daddy or Mommy, we've been joking that she's perfecting some new wrestling moves like the "Dupa Drop" (If you don't know what a dupa is, go find someone of Polish descent and they'll enlighten you!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SI5ylZIQTEI/AAAAAAAAAG8/IvA0NIeCyHU/s1600-h/IMG_0748.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SI5ylZIQTEI/AAAAAAAAAG8/IvA0NIeCyHU/s320/IMG_0748.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228242204149959746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today she wanted to walk around on the bed in the middle of the day but I figured with just one parent the chance that she'd fall off the bed was just too high.  So I brought the pillows and comforter down to the living room floor and make a sort of bed-like environment, supplemented with pillows from the couches.  And it worked spectacularly well!  Maria must have decided that falling down on the comforter in the living room wouldn't hurt too badly and she just took off walking and walking and walking.  She went to bed early tonight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-91949370934829008?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/91949370934829008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=91949370934829008' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/91949370934829008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/91949370934829008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/07/16-months-1-week-and-day.html' title='16 Months, 1 Week and a Day'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/SI5yNZX9UEI/AAAAAAAAAGs/4O7IjmnabhE/s72-c/IMG_0742.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-5994180788753387531</id><published>2008-07-15T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T12:32:15.943-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='child-rearing articles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom of the Year moments'/><title type='text'>Missed Milestones &amp; Inoculating Children Against Advertising</title><content type='html'>Maria will be 16 months old on Sunday and she (STILL!) doesn't walk on her own.  I remember when she was just a newborn and it seemed like she'd hit milestones weeks or months early.   And now with the whole walking thing I'm finding it difficult to say the least.   When I'm not with her, the question I get right after "How old is she?" is the "She must be walking now" one.  Sometimes it's not even a question, but a statement!   If I were truly a Mom of the Year, my child would not only be walking by now, but she'd have taught all her stuffed animals to walk, too! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully she will be walking soon, but for now I'm left with the unmet expectations of countless &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;acquaintances&lt;/span&gt; and friends, a cranky child who wants to be independently mobile but isn't and a rather sore back from stooping over slightly while Maria holds my finger while she walks!  If nothing else this has been a learning experience.  (1) Never ask anyone if her or his child is _____ing yet and (2) Leave babies on the floor until they spontaneously get themselves up and start walking or you might be in for months of a back pain!  (Note: If you're under 5 feet tall, #2 might not apply.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely different note, here's another interesting article about &lt;a href="http://www.getrichslowly.org/blog/2008/03/05/how-to-inoculate-your-children-against-advertising/"&gt;children and advertising&lt;/a&gt;.  The author's not-yet-reading son asked if she was going to buy Chlorox at a grocery store which is a product she rarely buys.  This goes to show how insidious advertising really is!  I can remember as a child seeing just one ad for a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slip_%27n_Slide"&gt;Slip-N-Slide&lt;/a&gt; and I absolutely HAD to have one.   My parents, as usual, refused to buy it and eventually my sisters and I created a makeshift one out of a sheet of plastic and a sprinkler.   This article has some ideas (beyond the simple I'm-not-going-to-waste-my-hard-earned-money-on-that-piece-of-junk! technique) on how to nurture in your children a healthy skepticism for advertising.&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/HECTOR%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-5994180788753387531?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/5994180788753387531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=5994180788753387531' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/5994180788753387531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/5994180788753387531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/07/missed-milestones-inoculating-children.html' title='Missed Milestones &amp; Inoculating Children Against Advertising'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-2526885241540813169</id><published>2008-07-13T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T20:09:50.392-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='child-rearing articles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maria'/><title type='text'>Mathematicians, Physicists, Grocery Carts and Liars</title><content type='html'>I'll bet you're just wondering how these topics can possibly relate!  I figure since I haven't blogged in such a long time I'd better come up with a catchy title. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a mathematician married to a physicist I thought I'd share this &lt;a href="http://www.xkcd.com/435/"&gt;comic&lt;/a&gt; that shows clearly which field is best!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for grocery carts, Mark and I decided to run errands WITH Maria yesterday instead of having one person stay home with her supposedly freeing up the other to run errands more efficiently.   Thanks to the prevalence of shopping carts at Lowe's, Sam's and Meijer, we all had an amazingly wonderful trip.  Maria, who is very close to walking independently, still likes to hold onto a finger or a couch or, as it turns out, a shopping cart!  When she discovered that she could push a huge, fully-loaded shopping cart and make it move &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;all by herself&lt;/span&gt;, it was a moment of pure joy!  She happily pushed the cart through Lowe's and then Sam's and finally Meijer, with a little steering help from mom and dad and lots of amused looks and smiles from fellow shoppers at seeing this 22 pound shortie throwing all of her weight into moving a gigantic cart!  I have to say this was probably the funnest errand run I've even been on! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, Mark sent me a link to this &lt;a href="http://www.printthis.clickability.com/pt/cpt?action=cpt&amp;amp;title=Learning+to+Lie&amp;amp;expire=&amp;amp;urlID=26437742&amp;amp;fb=Y&amp;amp;url=http%3A%2F%2Fnymag.com%2Fnews%2Ffeatures%2F43893%2F&amp;amp;partnered=73272"&gt;interesting article about children and lying&lt;/a&gt;.  Fascinating stuff!  Apparently learning to lie early (age 2) is a sign of intelligence because one needs to construct a plausible alternate reality.  Researchers theorize that children learn to lie by watching their parents - ouch!  Sometimes we even prompt them to lie such as: "Now tell Aunt Hilda how much you love the bar of soap she got you for your birthday."  I think the thing that surprised me most was research showing that in families where there are more arguments between teens and parents, the teens actually respect their parents more!  It's a case of attempting to change a parent's mind about a rule versus simply lying to them to avoid detection and punishment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-2526885241540813169?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/2526885241540813169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=2526885241540813169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/2526885241540813169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/2526885241540813169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/07/mathematicians-physicists-grocery-carts.html' title='Mathematicians, Physicists, Grocery Carts and Liars'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-7391127896527100059</id><published>2008-02-14T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T20:59:14.411-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sickness'/><title type='text'>The Light at the End of the Tunnel</title><content type='html'>February has been a tough month so far.   Heavy snowfalls, bitter cold, drenching rains, flooding and lack of sunlight are enough to dampen anyone's spirits.   And if that weren't enough, Maria got sick... sicker than she has been to date.  Not only did she have a runny nose, cough, high fever and ear infection, but she also managed to have diarrhea, diaper rash and a terrible teething episode concurrent with the nasty cold/ear infection issues.  I don't know how she managed it, but it appears our daughter is an over-achiever at the tender age of 10.5 months!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/R7UbJjNil6I/AAAAAAAAAGc/ksfxFB3qPHE/s1600-h/IMG_6915.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/R7UbJjNil6I/AAAAAAAAAGc/ksfxFB3qPHE/s320/IMG_6915.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167065998362318754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the worst of times in many ways.  We sweated through sleep deprivation, ear-splitting wails and the dilemma of whether or not to go to the "convenient" care clinic to suffer the inconvenience of sitting in a germ-infested waiting room  for more than 2 hours with a hysterical child since the high fever ironically made its first appearance on Friday evening!  We decided to hang onto our remaining shreds of sanity and NOT go to convenient care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bright and early Monday morning I was able to make an appointment with Maria's regular pediatrician and he diagnosed Miss Cranky with a bad case of the ear-infection fussies!  Armed with some liquid Amoxicillin and a medicine dropped I headed home with high hopes for a healthy child in the near future.  These hopes were seriously endangered by little Miss Fussy, who does not like Amoxicillin despite the copious amount of sugar mixed into the liquid.  With each dose the struggles escalated from head turning to trying to bat the dropper away to all out flailing and spitting.  The medicine ended up all over her, the changing table, me, Mark and sometimes the wall.  After a few days of this I was starting to worry that she would have an ear infection for the rest of her life because we, the incompetent parents that we are, couldn't get enough medicine in her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/R7UbJjNil7I/AAAAAAAAAGk/xkAjZwM2m3k/s1600-h/IMG_6917.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/R7UbJjNil7I/AAAAAAAAAGk/xkAjZwM2m3k/s320/IMG_6917.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167065998362318770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then along came my knight in shining armor.   Since it is Valentine's Day after all, I'd like to say that I have an amazingly creative and talented husband and I am constantly thinking how lucky I am to be married to him!  One morning he measured out the medicine as usual and then started to put it drop by drop in the center of some Cheerios, Maria's favorite food.   He put the Cheerios on her tray and to my amazement she picked them up and ate them, medicine and all!  It took a while, but she got the full dose that morning and every morning after that!  Eventually Mark started putting some of the medicine on toast just to speed things up a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Maria is finally done with her meds and has returned to her usual happy self.  Sometimes she gets a little too happy and starts to scream at the top of her lungs apparently just because she can, but I'd rather have a happy and loud baby than a sick and loud one any day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-7391127896527100059?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/7391127896527100059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=7391127896527100059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7391127896527100059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7391127896527100059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2008/02/light-at-end-of-tunnel.html' title='The Light at the End of the Tunnel'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/R7UbJjNil6I/AAAAAAAAAGc/ksfxFB3qPHE/s72-c/IMG_6915.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-2748066408542444847</id><published>2007-12-03T20:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T18:26:45.929-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby gear'/><title type='text'>My Favorite Baby Carrier</title><content type='html'>Just two or three months after I discovered we were expecting a baby, I started on a quest for the right baby carrier.   I had been told by my mom that babies tend to get fussy in the evening just when you are tired, too, and trying to put together dinner on top of it all.  Several women had told me how much they loved their baby slings because they could just put the baby in and nurse while cooking dinner and keeping an eye on the older kids.  It sounded the perfect multitasking solution to me, so the hunt for the perfect carrier began!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had heard from some friends that a &lt;a href="http://www.babybjorn.com/American/produkter/Mobility/BABYBJORN-Baby-Carrier-Active/"&gt;baby Bjorn&lt;/a&gt; worked great for them, so I promptly found a gently used one on ebay &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx68NpM9x6I/AAAAAAAAAFs/ZpWvRFGU2-Y/s1600-h/DSCN7297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx68NpM9x6I/AAAAAAAAAFs/ZpWvRFGU2-Y/s320/DSCN7297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124740368578758562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and bought it last summer (my first purchase for the baby!).  At first she seemed too small for the baby Bjorn, but when she was about 6 weeks old I started using it.  It worked OK, but I wasn't exactly enthralled with it.  I found a couple of serious drawbacks.  First of all, I didn't like the time it takes to put on and get it adjusted.  I had to look at the directions for the first 4 or 5 times I put it on, but eventually got the hang of it. Still, it seemed to take forever to put on and all the while Maria would be crying because she wanted to be held that very instant.  The second drawback too me a while to discover, but I discovered the Bjorn becomes more and more uncomfortable the heavier your baby gets.  My Bjorn was the kind with lumbar support and everything, but still it was uncomfortable.  From many a backpacking trip I've learned that a heavy pack feels much lighter when most of the weight is on your waist and as little as possible on the shoulders.   The Bjorn puts all the weight squarely on one's shoulders.  With disappointment I continued my quest for the perfect baby carrier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Determined to make baby wearing work for me, I purchased a used &lt;a href="http://www.mobywrap.com/"&gt;Moby wrap&lt;/a&gt;.  It's basically a long piece of cloth that one wraps around one's body and the baby can fit in it an number of different ways.  I used it some and it made some tasks like cooking or hanging out the laundry a little easier since I could take her with me.   I never really got the hang of the wrap.  It was time consuming to put on (same problem as the Bjorn), hard to put Maria in so we'd both be comfortable and as the weather heated up, wrap wearing was definitely out in our non-air conditioned home.  Also, wraps are NOT manly so I could not realistically entertain the hope that Mark would ever find the wrap useful.  Thus, the hunt continued!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After witnessing an acquaintance use her &lt;a href="http://www.ergobabycarriers.com/babycarriers/category/carrier/"&gt;Ergo baby carrier&lt;/a&gt;, I was intrigued.  I read up on it and watched the &lt;a href="http://www.ergobabycarrier.com/support/instructions"&gt;demo videos&lt;/a&gt; featuring folks who were WAY too happy about their Ergo carrier (check out the one on attachment parenting... I'm somewhat attachment oriented myself,&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/R1S4BY-lCGI/AAAAAAAAAGM/E3OTqFBNzC8/s1600-R/IMGP3473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/R1S4BY-lCGI/AAAAAAAAAGM/K99rCgJfgUg/s320/IMGP3473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139935408760883298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; but this is over the top!).  Despite the gushing happiness of the videos, I purchased a carrier and have been overwhelmingly pleased with it!  Some of my favorite features... it's very easy and intuitive to put on and it's COMFORTABLE!  You can hold a child from infancy (with an insert) up to 4 or 5 years old so you need to buy only one carrier, also the carrier works in 3 different positions (front, back and side), it's manly enough for my husband to wear, and it puts most of the weight squarely on one's hips (unlike some other carriers I've mentioned).   I could go on and on, but I'll try to contain myself!  I use it around the house when Maria is fussy but I need to get things done.  I've used it to go for walks on our uneven county roads which are not too good for pushing a stroller.  Some of the highlight hikes with the carrier were at the &lt;a href="http://marksbreakfast.blogspot.com/2007/09/in-which-we-travel-to-michigan-and-get.html#comments"&gt;Sleeping Bear Dunes in Michigan&lt;/a&gt; and the &lt;a href="http://marksbreakfast.blogspot.com/2007/11/hiking-in-redwoods.html#comments"&gt;redwoods in California&lt;/a&gt;.  In both cases a stroller would not have worked so no baby carrier = no hikes = sad Sue.  Ergo baby carrier = nice, long hikes = happy Sue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an attempt to be balanced I will say that I'm not sure this carrier would be the best for a longer hike (6 or more miles) with an older (and heavier!) child.  It holds the child right next to your body so it could get really hot and sweaty.  I think one of the backpack style carriers might be best if you were planning on going to a national park, for example, and doing lots of longer hikes with an older child.  Some of the backpack style carriers have sun and rain canopies and even bug netting which could be important in those conditions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-2748066408542444847?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/2748066408542444847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=2748066408542444847' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/2748066408542444847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/2748066408542444847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-favorite-baby-carrier.html' title='My Favorite Baby Carrier'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx68NpM9x6I/AAAAAAAAAFs/ZpWvRFGU2-Y/s72-c/DSCN7297.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-8697091991075767004</id><published>2007-11-09T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T20:25:53.402-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><title type='text'>Trash the Dress!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RzUyYGkTrGI/AAAAAAAAAF8/AcF03eTf6GI/s1600-h/Wedding+Pictures+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RzUyYGkTrGI/AAAAAAAAAF8/AcF03eTf6GI/s320/Wedding+Pictures+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131062740119694434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the flight back from a very fun trip to visit my sis in sunny CA (pictures will be coming soon!), I became aware of a new and intriguing trend in solving the wedding dress dilemma.   Whatever are you supposed to do with it after the wedding?  I had hoped to rent a dress to avoid this dilemma entirely, but the wedding dress rental shop in town had long gone out of business by the time I got married.  The dress is hanging in a closet in the spare bedroom, but that room will eventually be needed when our family grows (just to make sure no rumors are started, we are neither expecting nor expecting to be expecting anytime soon!).  Given my feelings about my mother's dress (a homemade mid-thigh number from 1970), I'm under no illusion that Maria will someday want my dress.  I'm not particularly sentimental so I tried to sell my dress or give it to a friend, but to no avail.  I could always drop it off at Goodwill, but somehow I'm just not happy with that option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a whole new door has opened and I for one am excited!  The airline magazine had a short article about a website called &lt;a href="http://trashthedress.wordpress.com/"&gt;"trash the dress"&lt;/a&gt; featuring brides relieving the stress of their weddings by destroying their wedding dresses in various ways.  The &lt;a href="http://www.trashthedress.com/forum/"&gt;forum&lt;/a&gt; has even better pictures in my opinion and you definitely need to check out this &lt;a href="http://videothatlives.blogspot.com/2007/09/september-17th-paint-dress.html"&gt;video involving paint and an 80s dress with uber-puffy sleeves&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark and I were discussing the concept of destroying one's wedding dress in a spectacular way and while attracted to the idea, we both felt somewhat disconcerted by the wastefulness of the act.  Why destroy a perfectly good dress?  Just today a dear friend (who also happens to be a &lt;a href="http://www.leylaklein.com/"&gt;photographer&lt;/a&gt;) were discussing dress trashing and she had an awesome point of view.    One can think of this as an act of creating, not destroying.  You are creating art, creating pictures, creating memories.  Since we aren't the original Creator, we must create out of something, and sometimes the raw materials are a bit costly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This winter I hope to clean out some closets.  And sometime this spring I hope to create some crazy fun memories with my dress, mud, daffodils and Maria!  (Or possibly wait a few years and go to Las Vegas with Alicia, Judy, Christy and Marjorie to paint the town red in our white dresses, just like &lt;a href="http://www.trashthedress.com/forum/showthread.php?t=652"&gt;these ladies&lt;/a&gt;!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-8697091991075767004?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/8697091991075767004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=8697091991075767004' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/8697091991075767004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/8697091991075767004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/11/trash-dress.html' title='Trash the Dress!'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RzUyYGkTrGI/AAAAAAAAAF8/AcF03eTf6GI/s72-c/Wedding+Pictures+021.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-1420096060617845127</id><published>2007-10-23T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T20:10:19.355-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom of the Year moments'/><title type='text'>No "Mom of the Year" Award for me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx6rPpM9xuI/AAAAAAAAAEM/CtV54xGAP44/s1600-h/babymonitor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx6rPpM9xuI/AAAAAAAAAEM/CtV54xGAP44/s320/babymonitor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124721711240824546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It all started several weeks ago on a Wednesday when I couldn't get Maria down for her afternoon nap until 1:30pm.  It was a struggle to get her down and so she fell asleep later than usual.  Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but I really needed (conversation with other adults is not merely a want, but a need some days!) to go to the bible study at the next door neighbor's home at 2pm.  And I didn't want a cranky baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at 1:55pm I grabbed my bible and the baby monitor (thankfully a long distance one!) and started slowly walking toward the neighbor's house.   Though the static increased, the monitor didn't start making angry out-of-range beeps until I reached Kathy's front porch.  I walked inside and the monitor sometimes had contact and sometimes didn't.  I was absolutely determined to make this crazy idea of mine work and so eventually located a particular spot on the banister of the stairs in the living room where there was reception.  With a little help from some tape, the monitor stayed in contact and I stayed at the study until 3:30 when I heard happy, wakeful noises coming from the monitor.  I ran back home, changed Maria's diaper and we both came back for the tail end of the study!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx6r05M9xvI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Q8wPZUIYnzw/s1600-h/daniel.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx6r05M9xvI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Q8wPZUIYnzw/s200/daniel.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124722351190951666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, I left my baby at home, ALONE for over an hour!  Thankfully I'm not Brittany Spears because the paparazzi would be all over this, not to mention DCFS.   When I told this story to a fellow mom and understanding friend, she said "you won't win any Mom of the Year awards for that one!"  She explained that this was a compliment and that her husband used this phrase to describe sanity-saving but unorthodox methods of caring for one's child.  I totally &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; the phrase and have decided to chronicle some of these non-Mom-of-the-Year moments!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top that episode, this weekend Mark, Maria and I went to Chicago to spend the weekend with a dear friend from Seattle, Alicia.   We had a great afternoon walking along the waterfront, enjoying the warm October day.   As evening drew near, Maria became fussy so we headed back to the Westin on Michigan Avenue (thank you, Priceline!) to put Maria to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx6sEZM9xwI/AAAAAAAAAEc/wlTXWugkOf8/s1600-h/westin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx6sEZM9xwI/AAAAAAAAAEc/wlTXWugkOf8/s320/westin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124722617478924034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plan was for Mark to stay with Maria while Alicia and I went out on the town.  As you can imagine, staying in a hotel room with a sleeping baby is far from exciting.   Maria needs darkness and silence to sleep and she goes to sleep around 7pm, nixing all hope of TV-watching, book reading and the like.   While we were unpacking and getting Maria ready for bed, I noticed that the closet was a fairly good size.  Upon closer inspection, I discovered our pack-n-play (Maria's travel bed) did indeed fit in the closet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make a long story short, I left my baby in a closet (a 4 star closet, mind you!) while I went out on the town for some serious shopping and a scrumptious dessert with a dear friend!  Mark was in the hotel room so we didn't leave her alone, but she did sleep in the closet all night!   I have to admit I'd do it again in a heartbeat! And yes, I do know how lucky I am to have such an awesome husband!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx60dZM9x0I/AAAAAAAAAE8/QpJPtGYVi3M/s1600-h/DSCN7623.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx60dZM9x0I/AAAAAAAAAE8/QpJPtGYVi3M/s320/DSCN7623.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124731843068675906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx60dpM9x1I/AAAAAAAAAFE/MctQns_-Ktw/s1600-h/DSCN7625.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 169px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx60dpM9x1I/AAAAAAAAAFE/MctQns_-Ktw/s320/DSCN7625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124731847363643218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx60dpM9x2I/AAAAAAAAAFM/1OPvZxkWU0Q/s1600-h/DSCN7626.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx60dpM9x2I/AAAAAAAAAFM/1OPvZxkWU0Q/s320/DSCN7626.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124731847363643234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                               &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/HECTOR%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-1420096060617845127?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/1420096060617845127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=1420096060617845127' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/1420096060617845127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/1420096060617845127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/10/no-mom-of-year-award-for-me.html' title='No &quot;Mom of the Year&quot; Award for me!'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx6rPpM9xuI/AAAAAAAAAEM/CtV54xGAP44/s72-c/babymonitor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-349402783379812530</id><published>2007-10-05T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T20:21:55.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maria's First Modeling Gig</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;ut it might not be her last, given that she was still in the 99th percentile for height at her 6 month check up!  She's now 29 inches tall, 16.5 pounds and as of today has three teeth!  Stats aside, a dear friend of ours is starting a photography business and thus Maria has become a model.  See if you can find all four pictures of her on &lt;a href="http://www.leylaklein.com/"&gt;Leyla's website&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some amazing samples of her work that didn't make it to the website...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx66OZM9x5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/DiB3dv1nUY4/s1600-h/ilovegrandma.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx66OZM9x5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/DiB3dv1nUY4/s320/ilovegrandma.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124738182440404882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx65yZM9x4I/AAAAAAAAAFc/qeecBkPJxto/s1600-h/theway-maria-rides-4by6.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx65yZM9x4I/AAAAAAAAAFc/qeecBkPJxto/s320/theway-maria-rides-4by6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124737701404067714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-349402783379812530?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/349402783379812530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=349402783379812530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/349402783379812530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/349402783379812530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/10/marias-first-modeling-gig.html' title='Maria&apos;s First Modeling Gig'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rx66OZM9x5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/DiB3dv1nUY4/s72-c/ilovegrandma.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-6987925881214710083</id><published>2007-09-07T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T21:16:20.578-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='country life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scarring my child for life'/><title type='text'>Sunroom Sundries</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RuIfZfvDXbI/AAAAAAAAAEE/tebOkgIlyIw/s1600-h/DSCN7486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RuIfZfvDXbI/AAAAAAAAAEE/tebOkgIlyIw/s320/DSCN7486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107679450267606450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's been an interesting few days in our sun room.  Happily it has been getting cool enough that we've been able to go out there in the mornings and evenings.  Last night I noticed a praying mantis on the sun room door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning it had been joined by another praying mantis... I took a closer look and indeed they were doing what bugs do on the Nature Channel.  I dimly remembered learning something quite horrible in high school biology class about praying mantises and I was scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hoped against hope that my memory was wrong.  But I couldn't be sure if it was or it wasn't.  The uncertainty of it all drew me (against my better judgment!) to check back on the mantises throughout the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first they were continuing to do what they had been doing.  Then the moment came when all my fears were realized.  I don't think I want to fully explain what happened, but it involved cannibalism... go ask your biology teacher for details.   After my dreaded suspicion was confirmed I no longer checked back, but I did hum taps for the male praying mantis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Praying_mantis"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wikipedia&lt;/span&gt; entry on praying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mantids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; was quite interesting.  Apparently one can keep them as pets and feed them crickets.  (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mattox&lt;/span&gt;, are you reading this?)  I started thinking that might be a fun sort of science project to do with Maria when she gets older - keep a praying mantis in a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;terrarium&lt;/span&gt; and feed it crickets.  There certainly is no shortage of crickets here among the corn and soybean fields!  But now I'm wondering if this feeding of crickets would be too gross and would scar Maria for life.   I figure as her mother I'm totally doomed... no matter what I do I'll scar her for life in somehow, but I'd like to keep the damage as minimal as possible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. This picture was taken before anything too terrible happened.  The odd part is that the female was missing one arm, but that didn't stop her from doing what she did.  Such aggressive little critters!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-6987925881214710083?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/6987925881214710083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=6987925881214710083' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/6987925881214710083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/6987925881214710083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/09/sunroom-sundries.html' title='Sunroom Sundries'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RuIfZfvDXbI/AAAAAAAAAEE/tebOkgIlyIw/s72-c/DSCN7486.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-7812178405447859063</id><published>2007-08-25T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T21:03:34.228-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maria'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feeding solids'/><title type='text'>Food, Glorious Food</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RtD6vPvDXZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9z2HJv_0LW0/s1600-h/DSCN7452.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RtD6vPvDXZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9z2HJv_0LW0/s200/DSCN7452.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102854067395452306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last week at covenant group Maria was intently watching everyone eat and at one point tried to swipe a bread stick out of my hand! That's when I decided to start giving her real food in addition to her usual diet of "happy juice" (breast milk).  Since happy juice requires no preparation, no cleanup, almost no extra packing when traveling and is virtually free, I hadn't been looking forward to complicating our lives with real food.  But raising a child definitely isn't all about what's convenient for me, so I grudgingly bought some brown rice cereal and attempted the first feeding on Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RtD66vvDXaI/AAAAAAAAAD8/CMBOauxjzxA/s1600-h/DSCN7453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RtD66vvDXaI/AAAAAAAAAD8/CMBOauxjzxA/s320/DSCN7453.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102854264963947938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, feeding solids is horribly messy, but to my surprise I found that it's also completely hilarious and loads of fun when in the right mood!  Maria made crazy faces, tried to bite the spoon and promptly evicted all of the rice cereal from her mouth with her tongue after every attempt.    Things went about the same on the second day, but I discovered that she loves to play with the bowl and spoon.  I'm going to give rice cereal one more try and then conclude that she just doesn't like the stuff.  I tried some out of curiosity and it's pretty nasty... rather like bland, gloppy glue.  Maybe she'll like pureed veggies better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-7812178405447859063?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/7812178405447859063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=7812178405447859063' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7812178405447859063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7812178405447859063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/08/food-glorious-food.html' title='Food, Glorious Food'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RtD6vPvDXZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9z2HJv_0LW0/s72-c/DSCN7452.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-7079958607068654349</id><published>2007-08-19T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T20:53:41.617-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mark&apos;s parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><title type='text'>Maria paints Chicago pink!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskMn_vDXPI/AAAAAAAAACk/2hVftcRp9gc/s1600-h/DSCN7428.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskMn_vDXPI/AAAAAAAAACk/2hVftcRp9gc/s320/DSCN7428.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100621934237015282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskMfvvDXOI/AAAAAAAAACc/m7BkMJfiv1c/s1600-h/DSCN7426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskMfvvDXOI/AAAAAAAAACc/m7BkMJfiv1c/s200/DSCN7426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100621792503094498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last weekend Mark's mom was in Chicago for a women's conference for the Covenant church.  We decided that a 2.5 hour drive to see one of his parents was much better than the usual 9.5 hour drive and so the plan was hatched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to ask directions to the hotel when we were less than a block away(!), but other than that the drive went well.  Maria was a big hit with the ladies from Mark's parent's church, though she burst into tears suddenly after too much attention!  Boy was her grandma happy to see her!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate at a restaurant called Italian Village and after an exceptionally loud crying spell in the women' s bathroom, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskM7PvDXQI/AAAAAAAAACs/p1BiFiDEsDk/s1600-h/DSCN7435.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskM7PvDXQI/AAAAAAAAACs/p1BiFiDEsDk/s200/DSCN7435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100622264949497090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Maria finally fell asleep in the restaurant.  We decided to order dessert to take full advantage of her nap.  Tiramisu is always a happy experience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskNRvvDXRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/fB3GpD6Kl7s/s1600-h/DSCN7432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 199px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskNRvvDXRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/fB3GpD6Kl7s/s200/DSCN7432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100622651496553746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the restaurant we walked past a mosaic by Marc Chagall on our way to Millenium Park. &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;It was neat to explore Millennium Park since it's relatively new and because the two face fountains were especially refreshing in the 9&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskPvvvDXWI/AAAAAAAAADc/zGBUCcX2MUc/s1600-h/DSCN7436.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskPvvvDXWI/AAAAAAAAADc/zGBUCcX2MUc/s400/DSCN7436.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100625365915884898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;0 degree plus heat.  Mark especially enjoyed taking self-portraits and unique pictures in the giant reflective bean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskOg_vDXUI/AAAAAAAAADM/93IL5vJUpA4/s1600-h/DSCN7440.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskOg_vDXUI/AAAAAAAAADM/93IL5vJUpA4/s200/DSCN7440.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100624013001186626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there we walked through Grant's Park to Buckingham fountain.  We collapsed in the shade of a crab apple tree and watched all the couples taking wedding and quince (sweet 16) photos.  I didn't realize that quinceanera girls not only dress up in a formal gown that rivals many weddin&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskO-fvDXVI/AAAAAAAAADU/tYLrBPjqnhc/s1600-h/DSCN7442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskO-fvDXVI/AAAAAAAAADU/tYLrBPjqnhc/s320/DSCN7442.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100624519807327570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;g dresses I've seen, but they also have a tuxedoed escort and a court of 2 or 3 matching couples to follow them around, not to mention professional photographers!  The parallels to a wedding party are downright uncanny!  There's even a magazine devoted entirely to &lt;a href="http://www.quincegirl.com/"&gt;quince&lt;/a&gt; parties!  I'll try not to go on a tirade here about the excesses involved in modern weddings, but I have to say my feelings now extend to quincaneras as well.  Frightening!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway,  we had a wonderful time exploring Chicago with momma Nina (pronounced "nine-uh") and it was neat seeing her and Maria together!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-7079958607068654349?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/7079958607068654349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=7079958607068654349' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7079958607068654349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7079958607068654349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/08/maria-paints-chicago-pink.html' title='Maria paints Chicago pink!'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RskMn_vDXPI/AAAAAAAAACk/2hVftcRp9gc/s72-c/DSCN7428.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-1901185135762839075</id><published>2007-06-26T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T21:18:37.062-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scarring my child for life'/><title type='text'>WNBA Player or Lion Tamer?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RoHTqCr9iqI/AAAAAAAAACM/M6vDU9tcrBs/s1600-h/DSCN7332.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RoHTqCr9iqI/AAAAAAAAACM/M6vDU9tcrBs/s320/DSCN7332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080574573879855778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At her 2 month appointment Maria was in the 99th percentile for height... that means she's taller than 99 out of 100 girl babies her age!  It's kind of neat to have a tall baby, but upon further consideration it's odd to be proud of something I really didn't have much to do with.  I did contribute half her DNA, but I had no control over how tall I am, much less how tall she is! I'm a bit worried about the height thing since it's bad for women to be too tall (and for men to be too short)... it makes it really hard to find someone to date.  Call me superficial, but I never could date someone shorter than me.  Happily, Mark has solved all my problems in that area!  ( :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure if Maria keeps growing at this rate she can have a career in the WNBA as long as she takes after her daddy in terms of coordination.  Then a few days (well, really weeks... I'm super behind on blogging!) ago she started hitting her little stuffed lion on the play gym.  She was totally going to town and hit that poor lion until she was tired out.  Later that evening Maria was fussing while laying in her play gym.  Mark noticed she was looking at the lion and when he moved her within striking range of the lion she stopped fussing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RoHSIir9ipI/AAAAAAAAACE/yTGTBo-Vq1U/s1600-h/DSCN7334.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RoHSIir9ipI/AAAAAAAAACE/yTGTBo-Vq1U/s200/DSCN7334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080572898842610322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this is to say that our daughter could turn out to be a lion tamer or a WNBA player or anything in between.  After teaching for 4 years at a magnet high school for the gifted, I've witnessed a lot of highly-driven and successful parents get pretty pushy about their  children's math grades.  They are at the top of a math related field and can't accept that their son or daughter may not be as adept or interested as they were in mathematics.  Sometimes it's just a maturity issue on the part of the student, but often kids simply have different interests from their parents.  After seeing the agony the "I'm good at ____, so you must be equally good at ____" attitude causes, I'm determined to be open minded when it comes to Maria's future.  Admittedly this is easier said than done, but I'm trying to prepare myself for her falling in love with art or sports or lion taming or even advertising (yuck!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-1901185135762839075?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/1901185135762839075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=1901185135762839075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/1901185135762839075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/1901185135762839075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/06/wnba-player-or-lion-tamer.html' title='WNBA Player or Lion Tamer?'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RoHTqCr9iqI/AAAAAAAAACM/M6vDU9tcrBs/s72-c/DSCN7332.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-7747752603341484130</id><published>2007-06-08T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T18:53:22.304-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bottle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maria'/><title type='text'>A man, a bottle and a baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RmoGt2fL2dI/AAAAAAAAABk/SkExR-gSs6o/s1600-h/man.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RmoGt2fL2dI/AAAAAAAAABk/SkExR-gSs6o/s200/man.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073875314976479698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RmoG_mfL2eI/AAAAAAAAABs/jL17c_B3A4Q/s1600-h/baby.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RmoG_mfL2eI/AAAAAAAAABs/jL17c_B3A4Q/s200/baby.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073875619919157730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RmoHQWfL2fI/AAAAAAAAAB0/IQ05sMiPAnU/s1600-h/DSCN7315.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 119px; height: 160px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RmoHQWfL2fI/AAAAAAAAAB0/IQ05sMiPAnU/s200/DSCN7315.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073875907681966578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, this slightly delirious looking man succeeded in giving this baby the bottle pictured below.  Why is this a big deal? Well, the aforementioned baby is known to be quite persistent in her refusal of bottles of various shapes, sizes and makes.  Her tactics are brutal... she cries, screams, fusses and carries on for what seems like hours.  Yet this amazing man succeeded in giving the baby a bottle last Saturday morning (yes, I'm behind in my blogging) and with very little fussing the formerly stubborn baby drained the bottle dry!  I need to nominate this man for some sort of bottle-giving medal.  After that I plan to celebrate by purchasing some tickets to an outdoor Shakespeare play (Henry V) since I now can leave the baby for more than three hours.  Yippee!  I feel very, very free!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-7747752603341484130?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/7747752603341484130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=7747752603341484130' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7747752603341484130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7747752603341484130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/06/man-bottle-and-baby.html' title='A man, a bottle and a baby'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RmoGt2fL2dI/AAAAAAAAABk/SkExR-gSs6o/s72-c/man.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-2703905045322551897</id><published>2007-05-20T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T18:26:34.780-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finances'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college costs'/><title type='text'>Tuition Terrors</title><content type='html'>The other day our local paper ran a story saying the board of trustees approved a tuition hike for the '07 - '08 academic year.  I didn't pay too much attention since tuition is always going up, but then I realized tuition for in-state students at our state university will be $8660 for the next academic year!  On top of that, fees will add a whopping $2394 and room and board will total $7666.  The icing on the cake is that tuition increased 9.5% over last year - yikes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started thinking... we want more children, but can we possibly afford to send Maria to college, much less any future kids?  I started my calculations by assuming tuition and fees will continue to rise at 9.5% per year.  This seems reasonable since states have been pushing more and more of the funding burden for higher ed back onto the institutions themselves.  Universities have responded by raising both tuition and fees.  I assumed that room and board would rise at the rate of inflation (which I assumed to be about 3%/year), that Maria would start college when she's 18, attend our state university (the cheapest option by far!) and graduate in 4 years.  I further assumed that the policy of freezing tuition for incoming freshman would still be in place when she attends school.  With a little help from excel, here's what I discovered:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuition for 4 years:  $177,400  ($107,600 in today's $)&lt;br /&gt;Fees for 4 years: $56,500  (32,800 in today's $)&lt;br /&gt;Room and Board for 4 years: $ 54,600 (30,700 in today's $)&lt;br /&gt;This would cost a grand total of $288,500  ($171,000 in today's $) ... much more than the value of our home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I make the scenario slightly darker and assume that Maria will need 5 years to graduate and the room and board in the university dorms will rise in a manner similar to tuition, it will cost more than half a million dollars for her college education!  ($320,200 in today's $)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point one has to ask if education is worth this price tag!?!  Remember, these numbers are not for a private ivy league institution, just in-state tuition at our local university.  Encouraging our child to take lots of AP classes in high school or go to the local community college is starting to seem like a financially prudent move.  I have read that one factor in the high cost of education is that loans specifically for school are available at low interest rates and therefore students do not pay much attention to the price tag for an education.  The argument goes that if you raise interest rates on student loans, students will become more price sensitive when choosing institutions.  I don't really buy this argument.  I think the average person assumes education is a good deal regardless of what it costs and doesn't understand exponential growth well enough to realize how high interest rates affect the paying off of a loan.   My only hope is for online education to come into  it's own and offer some serious price competition for traditional brick-and-mortar institutions.  Online dating has lost it's stigma, so maybe online education is next!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-2703905045322551897?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/2703905045322551897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=2703905045322551897' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/2703905045322551897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/2703905045322551897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/05/tuition-terrors.html' title='Tuition Terrors'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-7323268687824160758</id><published>2007-05-16T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T14:22:18.423-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep schedule'/><title type='text'>To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rk5k37mnBxI/AAAAAAAAAAs/ZF-IDfcQb5E/s1600-h/DSCN6878.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rk5k37mnBxI/AAAAAAAAAAs/ZF-IDfcQb5E/s200/DSCN6878.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066097542893602578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To clarify, I'm using this phrase to mean something different than Hamlet and this post is actually about sleep and NOT about death, thankfully!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I became a mom, when I would hear those who were parents discuss the sleep schedules of their offspring, I felt &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;deeply&lt;/span&gt; puzzled.   It simply did not make sense to me to impose what sounded like a rigid sleep schedule.  I have even heard parents who do subscribe to sleep schedules described as "sleep Nazis" for appearing to prioritize the child's sleep schedule above all and dropping other amusements from their schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am a chronically sleep-deprived mom, I have much more sympathy for these parents.  I have purchased (or been given) not one, not two, but THREE books on the subject of children's sleep.    I hope in future posts to summarize these books as well as my reactions to them.  It should be interesting since they run the range from strong advocates of attachment parenting &amp; co-sleeping to the full "cry-it-out" method.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for our current sleep problem (if it is correct to define it as a problem), the little girl is very fussy in the evenings.   We try to put her down, only to have her wake up crying 5 to 15 minutes later.  For example, tonight Maria started seriously fussing around 7pm.  I put her down twice, only to have her start to wail both times after the customary delay.  Mark tried, failed and then passed her on to me for some nursing.  She ate, but wouldn't sleep so I passed her back.  After more fussing behavior and some sucking of Mark's bicep, he passed her back for a final nursing session at which she finally fell asleep and thankfully STAYED asleep!  This whole process lasted until 8:45pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are my current thoughts on sleep?  It's confusing!  Some say the problem is that babies learn the bad habit of only being able to fall asleep when sucking.  Others say the problem is lack of sleep leading to the release of stress hormones.  One friend said her babies slept through the night at 6 weeks, while another said hers didn't do that until 10 months olds.   Some say mobiles and stimulating items in the crib are bad.  Some advocate white noise, others counsel making lots of noise while the baby sleeps.  What are the real problems?  Are there any universal solutions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see the appeal of a schedule because it allows one to plan the day.  Bu&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rk5ln7mnByI/AAAAAAAAAA0/zYv95opf870/s1600-h/DSCN7197.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rk5ln7mnByI/AAAAAAAAAA0/zYv95opf870/s200/DSCN7197.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066098367527323426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;t at what age is it developmentally appropriate to expect a schedule?  I want to be the parent and not let my daughter rule, but I don't want my own (usually selfish!) desire for control to rule either.  I want to do what is appropriate and best for my daughter and I realize what is best will change as she matures.  That said, I recoil from the idea of making a god out of a child's sleep schedule.  There are some things that are more important than a sleep schedule, such as attending church regularly together with my husband and going to our weekly bible study.  I also think that going out to socialize with friends is a legitimate need (in moderation!) and I refuse to give that up simply because we have a child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-7323268687824160758?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/7323268687824160758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=7323268687824160758' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7323268687824160758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7323268687824160758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/05/to-sleep-perchance-to-dream.html' title='To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rk5k37mnBxI/AAAAAAAAAAs/ZF-IDfcQb5E/s72-c/DSCN6878.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-7462660746265240910</id><published>2007-05-08T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T20:26:30.765-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gender'/><title type='text'>Overcome by Cute Rays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RkpkLbmnBvI/AAAAAAAAAAc/mlDcGPCFMA0/s1600-h/DSCN7133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 232px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RkpkLbmnBvI/AAAAAAAAAAc/mlDcGPCFMA0/s320/DSCN7133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064970878482581234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I was growing up I was definitely a tom boy... into climbing trees, skateboarding, camping and all that good stuff.   And I was surrounded by 2 like-minded sisters.  One time one of us got a Barbie-like doll for a birthday present from a friend.  Not in the habit of playing with dolls, we somehow decided to take the doll apart (this most likely was Monica's idea!), probably to see how it was put together.  We got all the limbs off and at some point I'm embarrassed to say the Barbie doll head ended up in the toilet!  All of this is just to prove that I was a card-carrying tom boy and as one can easily guess, not a big fan of the color &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend had a girl in December.   Before her daughter arrived, she went shopping for clothes and was dismayed to find that practically all girl oriented baby clothes were &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt;!  I definitely felt her pain and said if I had a girl I definitely wouldn't want to dress her in &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt; either.  Though I haven't gone to high end children's clothing stores, I hear they have a better selection of non-pink girl's clothes and better gender neutral clothes as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Maria arrived and somehow things changed.  Maybe I was overcome by the cute rays or something, but the first time I went shopping for clothes for her I bought all &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt; clothes!  Every morning I look in her closet and try to find the cutest outfit I can for her to wear, and yes, I often come up with something &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt;.  I comfort myself with the thought that at least all these dresses aren't preventing her from climbing trees or anything like that.  She can't even roll over yet!   Even so, I'm left with the vague feeling that I've sold out on my tom boy roots.  Maybe when she gets a little older and decides to rebel she'll ditch the &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt; and go for tree-climbing-digging-in-the-mud garb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a side note, my sister Monica remembers the demise of the Barbie doll slightly differently.  She recalls actively hating dolls and that we actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sawed off &lt;/span&gt;the limbs using the vice on the little work bench our dad made for us!  It's a miracle none of us have become mass murderers! Between the three of us we hold advanced degrees in physics, mathematics and electrical engineering... a hopefully more constructive channeling of our energies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-7462660746265240910?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/7462660746265240910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=7462660746265240910' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7462660746265240910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/7462660746265240910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/05/overcome-by-cute-rays.html' title='Overcome by Cute Rays'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/RkpkLbmnBvI/AAAAAAAAAAc/mlDcGPCFMA0/s72-c/DSCN7133.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8328731587804281136.post-4251738634677882389</id><published>2007-05-05T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T20:42:50.539-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cloth diapering'/><title type='text'>What I WISH I would have said...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rj1SSJgGmSI/AAAAAAAAAAU/P-zizOyc9GA/s1600-h/diapers_on_line.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rj1SSJgGmSI/AAAAAAAAAAU/P-zizOyc9GA/s320/diapers_on_line.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061292027975997730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one day as I was changing Maria's diaper a friend noticed that we use cloth diapers.  She asked in an incredulous voice why on earth we were using cloth.  I came up with the lame answer that I had friends who used cloth and that laundry was the chore I minded the least.  Not an answer that I'm particularly happy with since it makes me sound like a lemming, but it was what popped into my head at the time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I wish I would have said... I've always wanted to use cloth.  I don't precisely know why cloth diapers, but now that I have a child I'm finally able to act on this peculiar, long-held desire.  I think cloth diapers remind me of visiting my grandma on her farm and seeing clothes hanging to dry on the line.  There's something wonderful about any household chore that can be partially done outside, especially during good weather!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for logical reasons for using cloth: they  are cheaper (provided you wash your own), better for the environment (as long as you look at studies NOT funded by disposable diaper manufacturers), easy to use (diaper technology has come a long way, baby) and possibly better for babies' bottoms (disposable diapers contain chemicals no longer allowed in certain feminine products). As an added benefit, cloth-diapered children usually potty train sooner since they can actually feel when they are wet. Pretty cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was researching what sort of cloth diapers to buy I found out all sorts of interesting things.  Did you know it's illegal to dispose of human waste in dumps?  Basically everyone who has ever used a disposable diaper (including me!) is breaking the law!  I can just picture some unfortunate police officer assigned to go through people's trash and write up tickets!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8328731587804281136-4251738634677882389?l=suesmomification.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/feeds/4251738634677882389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8328731587804281136&amp;postID=4251738634677882389' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/4251738634677882389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8328731587804281136/posts/default/4251738634677882389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suesmomification.blogspot.com/2007/05/what-i-wish-i-would-have-said.html' title='What I WISH I would have said...'/><author><name>SPD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15928947284989863026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ze8c0tLHVVc/Rj1SSJgGmSI/AAAAAAAAAAU/P-zizOyc9GA/s72-c/diapers_on_line.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
