Missing Mouse

Man. It is hard not having internet, because then when I don’t get to blog for a while, I can’t remember when I blogged last and where I left off, and then it gets all complicated because I can’t go online and read my post. So, apologies if I repeat myself.

The only downfall to having a wireless mouse, is that if you have a toddler in your house, you could frequently sit down to the computer and have no mouse around. If you were smart enough to fit one more thing into your brain, you might remember to look for the mouse before you sit down. But. Too Bad.
The funny thing about owning a laptop is that I completely forget that I have a fully upgraded home PC with wireless keyboard, mouse, laser printer, and 19 inch flat panel monitor, that is also loaded with software. I find myself roaming around the house thinking “Do I really need to grab my laptop out of the van?” and trying to talk myself into all the reasons I should put on pants and go out where it’s like 40 degrees at midnight to get the laptop so I can blog. Duh. I have a computer. Right here. 5 feet from me. It only took like 15 minutes for me to figure that out.

I realized this evening while sorting thread spools by color (more on that later) that blogging may be the reason that I really don’t have “rage” issues with people. I get it all out. And anyone who wants to read it, is perfectly able. I have recently had a few issues with people that made me want to speak up and tell them how I felt, and I have so far been able to hold back. Earlier in the week, we had a salesman from Pitcher Perfect Windows come. We are putting new windows in the house and were going to get estimates. We had gotten one previously and it was SO high that we actually shied off on even thinking about it for another year. Well, we called a few more people, and the first thing that we ran into is the guy being all polite and nice and smooth and giving his pitch, and then as soon as he finds out that we don’t actually OWN our house and the person who does isn’t here to make an immediate decision on buying his windows TODAY, he starts to get all asinine about how we have wasted his time and his money and his gas and continues on about how there is “no way he can make money today” and that he “could be showing windows to someone else with this time.” To be honest, I was feeling a little more than a little pissed off at this point. I could have told him from the second that I made the appointment that we weren’t planning on buying windows that DAY. That we were going to get prices and compare between several companies. And do you think that his boss would have told him not to come because we weren’t going to buy windows that DAY? I was so irate that the only thing that kept me from coming unglued (and I mean “Get the fuck out of this house” unglued) was the fact that A) my husband was here to talk rationally and sympathize and B) his estimate was the lowest we had so far and C)I kept thinking, you can just blog about this later.

Tonight in Wal-mart, a woman was in the toy aisle having an all out battle with three children (which I assume would be hers) and yelling in a VERY outlandish tone and volume (reminded me of my childish neighbor) and seriously, completely discussing with her children at which paycheck she could afford to purchase them which toys. She was so out of hand with her yelling that Evan said that Ardyn started crying because she was afraid of her. Now let me tell you, Ardyn doesn’t cry at people. Usually she would have just screamed right back. But Evan actually told the woman to keep her voice down and the woman burned him a look. I was in the fabric aisle (more on that later) and I could hear her when I we went back to the toys to look at books. She was crazy. And then she was in the checkout lane next to ours, and also was at the Chinese Buffet where we went to eat! Ugh. People. And so at the Chinese Buffet, I was going down the line with a plate in each hand (one for me, one for Ardyn) and was headed right for a specific item. I sat one plate down and reached for the spoon when a woman came around the corner, cut RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME and then proceeded to take the same spoon I was reaching for and take her sweet time adding the meat to her soup?! What? It was so obviously butting in and so amazingly rude that I had to contain myself from either yelling at her or snickering at her tactlessness. I wanted to say “You must be REALLY hungry to cut off a pregnant woman at the buffet line.” Seriously. Who raised these people? How have they gotten out in public for so long (the woman had to be at least 45) and never learned how to interact and treat other people?

So thank god for blogging.

I made Ardyn a couple more pairs of pants yesterday, purple meditating monkeys and pink pigs on yellow. I put lavender rick rack around the hemline of the purple pants, and pale pink ribbon at the hemline of the pink pig pants. They are super super cute. Tonight I got a thread organizer. I have had a Rubbermaid organizer, but it really annoys me that all I can see are the tops of the thread spools on when I open it, and I can’t ever tell what color I am picking out or which colors I have unless I lift each one out. That is way annoying, time consuming, and has resulted in several duplicate colors of thread. So I decided to just get a good ol fashioned wooden spool rack and tonight, I bought one and when we got home I went down and happily organized my new thread and then danced around in my underwear, sweatshirt, and fuzzy slippers at how pretty it all looked. I have more thread than I thought but now that it is organized it will be IMMEDIATELY obvious if I need a color. I also needed Class 66 Bobbins. I have three types of bobbins that I keep on hand. Class 15 for my mom and my MIL’s sewing machines (in case I need to do some emergency sewing, which has happened recently) and the other flatter wider bobbins that came with the Singer that I used to have, and then class 66 that I use in my machine. Well, I have something like 25 slots in my bobbin case for each type, and I had like 15 bobbins in class 66, and I really don’t like not having a bobbin to match all my threads. I am nowhere near close to that yet, but since I have been changing thread colors as often as 7 times a day, I really get annoyed and feel totally un-green and wasteful if I have to unwind a bobbin in order to start a new color. So My goal at Wal-Mart was to get more class 66 bobbins, at least 10 of them. We went to the SuperWal-Mart that is the newest in the area, and farther from home. They have a MASSIVE Selection of everything, but wouldn’t you know that they ONLY had class 15 bobbins? I specifically asked the fabric lady why there weren’t any class 66 bobbins and at first she looked at me like an alien. Then she told me they must not carry them (from 2 aisles over, without looking at the bobbin’s general vicinity at all) and then she proceeded to cut my fabric (more on that later.)

Okay, so I have this rule. I have had this rule since I was like 19. The older I get, the more adamant I get about this rule. If you are over 65, you SHOULD NOT allowed to be cranky. Seriously. You have had 65 years to get shit figured out, make the right decisions, and get yourself happy. If you haven’t figured it out by now, then the rest of us really don’t want to hear about it. Now, I am not saying you can’t be sad, or you can’t have stress, or issues. But if by the age of 65, you can’t even muster a smile or the ability to be polite to people, the last place you should be is at the wal-mart fabric counter. Because Damn it, I believe that if you are working at the fabric center, you had better know at least a little bit about sewing. And if you are over 65, you should be able to make me a quilt in your sleep or you can just go be a door greeter. Harsh? Maybe. Reality? Probably.
So I proceed to get my fabrics (some super cute sparkly black and grey Halloween fabric and some cute yellow flannel with monkeys) and then go to the pattern books so that I can look for patterns for changing table covers, because I am going to make some of my own. I am looking through books, going through pattern drawers, and ANOTHER old lady comes over and goes to the bobbin area (employee not customer) and goes through the bobbins and discovers that someone stocked all the class 15 bobbins over the class 66 bobbins and that there actually WERE two packages of class 66 bobbins on the hooks. The two ladies have this conversation, and the second lady fixes the shelf, and the FIRST lady, who I had JUST asked about the bobbins, went by me FOUR TIMES and even assisted me in finding a pattern that was misfiled, all without even MENTIONING that they found two packages of misplaced class 66 bobbins. Seriously. Not one breath about the bobbins. Now this, folks, is customer service at it’s finest, and the reason that I should be at a fabric store instead of Wal-mart. But it’s hard to go to a fabric store when my husband is with. Because then he knows that my sole purpose is fabric, and he gets all cranky and suddenly is on a time schedule and at least when I am at Wal-Mart I can say “I just need to stop in the fabric department” and send him to toys and electronics to entertain himself while I look.

Yesterday I started Ardyn on Rice Milk. She was so thrilled and even I enjoyed the taste of it. Tastes yummy like breast milk. Sweet. She drank like 32 ounces in 24 hours. Crazy. I will have to limit her on that. All day today, she had just one, solid poopy diaper, compared to 3-4 a day runny stinky pasty messy diapers on soy milk for the past 5 weeks. Seriously. It was like the poo gods shined down upon us. And I called the Ped. And they said that they now want to see us to “talk about all this” and a potential referral to a GI. Seriously? A GI? She’s allergic to dairy. Period. And she is either allergic or intolerant to soy. I don’t blame the kid, as many children and adults can’t handle soy. And they want to refer her to a GI for that? An Allergist maybe. Ugh. Mom’s jobs are never-ending. Even with a good pediatrician, I feel like I have to spend hours on the internet researching and printing medical articles that back my own hunches, in order to not be told something incorrect for my child. That is frustrating. Might be the perfectionist in me, but I am also tired of going around the bush with this deal. It’s been six months already. I am sure glad I spoke up and told them I thought dairy allergy against the ped’s repeated advice of “viral rash” and “yeast diaper rash.” Sometimes I feel like mom’s should get handed a Dr’s degree when their kids turn 18. Seriously. Well, not all moms. But most of the good ones anyway.

Well, midnight it is. Ardyn went to be just after 11. She had a nice long nap in the van on the way home ad was ready to rock and roll in her footie pajamas when we got here. SO I let her. If I put her in bed at 8am, I can’t sleep in till 9:30 or 10. Totally worth it. We live on a different schedule than most. But that’s what’s so great about being your own boss. He he.

Tomorrow I start packing up my scrapbook room. I am really sad about that in some ways. I am moving everything to my old bedroom at my mom’s so that we can scrapbook when we want to. That will at least get half this room empty so that I can start to move Ardyn in piece by piece. I have it all planned in my mind, what will move here and what will stay in the nursery, and in reality I can’t wait to put everything where it will go. But at the same time I have a giant expensive Oak Computer Desk with Hutch, plus the computer and everything on it, that will need a home. I also have a file cabinet, safe, and printer, and a whole shelf of board games that need a home. Oh this little house is going to be outgrown so so soon. Well, already is actually. I might be able to get the desk and the printer in the dining room. But that’s about it, and that would require some serious maneuvering on our part. Whew. Taking the leaf out of the table. Getting rid of the corner bakers rack. Oh boy oh boy.

Everyone have a great weekend and I hope to be blogging again soon.