Scent of a Woman

I just found out that The Scientist doesn't like the smell of one of the lotions I use regularly. Doesn't like it at all. And I have been using it for years (since before we met). It's made with cocoa butter and he said to me earlier this week, "I don't like it when you smell like food." It's possible he's tried to tell me previously but I didn't get it and he didn't push the issue.

I learned while I was pregnant that you can't argue with your sense of smell. There is no way to turn it off - you can't shut your nose or plug it up like you can with your eyes or ears. Some molecule of the offending smell always finds its way in.

The bottle of lotion I have been using is (was) almost empty. It's gone now - rinsed out in the sink and the bottle put out for recycling. I got out one he got me as a present earlier this year. Since he picked it out, he should like it.

Cow

"Cow. Cow. Cow! Cow! COW!"

That was what I woke up to this morning at 6:15 a.m. The Wombat, looking for the small brown plastic Playmobil cow he has taken to bed with him for the past two weeks.

The Wombat sleeps pretty well now. The 6:15 wake-up this morning was after going to bed last night at 7:15 p.m. 11 hours is pretty fantastic for a boy two weeks away from turning two.

It wasn't always this way. A few months ago in March we had to stage a Sleep Intervention. The Monkey and I went to my parents' house for the weekend, sleeping there for two nights while The Scientist took over The Wombat's bedtime and night waking. I literally couldn't stand to hear him crying - it invoked such a strong response that it was like I was having a mini panic attack, heart and pulse pounding.

The night waking was the worst. It used to be that he'd sleep just until 11 or midnight...long enough for us to fall asleep and wake up feeling hung over. Then it was up and down; our bed, his bed until we maybe got another few hours in from 3-6. I'm not really sure how we functioned so long on such broken sleep, but I do know it took me months to recover from it even after he slept through the night (mostly).

This morning I took him upstairs with me to snuggle our bed for a while before we had to get up for the day (The Scientist had slept on the spare bed because of the fiendish cold/sinus infection we both have - his is worse). After dozing for a while he decided it was time to get up and told me so emphatically, "Up Mama. Up! Go DOWNstairs!" but was willing to stay and play for a few minutes. These mornings are some of the sweetest moments with The Wombat and I hope I always remember them.

My(Space) Dad

Now that my parents have moved to the area, we eat dinner with them almost every Sunday. Last Sunday, my brother was there and we started talking about MySpace vs. Facebook (for the record, I fall strongly on the Facebook side).

My dad piped in to say that at his age, he has missed the window for all of those social media websites and has no desire to join them (although he does text).

He said, "I saw the site for one of your friends from high school and I learned that she likes sex."

"Dad, she does have three kids."

"It was way too much information."

MySpace...not popular with retired military men who are not interested in the sex lives of their daughter's friends.

Assume the Position

I get emails of job postings in my area, still looking for that elusive library position that will somehow pay me close to what I make now at a major corporation (not likely), have reasonable hours, be the right intellectual challenge, and actually hire me. It hasn't happened yet. Every once in a while, though, a job posting catches my eye and I consider applying. Today, one caught my eye for an entirely different reason.

"Trumpet Position."

Yoga move? Kama Sutra?

Dodging

The other day we had a dinner table conversation with The Monkey (age 3.5) that a lot of parents probably have. He asked what we were having for dinner that night and I said, "Fish."

He said, "There's an animal fish."

"Yes."

...


Then he happily ate his fish (sticks).

Not Looking

I am not looking at my 401k. Not. Looking. Although I have been weeping (with joy) off and on since Tuesday night, I still have a lot of fear for the future. I read about Iceland where something like 75% of the professional work force has been fired in the past 3 months and I wonder if that could happen here. Work is crazy - I am busy nonstop right now (with little letup through the end of the year) but just because I'm busy doesn't mean they couldn't do without me. I hope not, but it hovers there in the back of my mind.

My Hero

The Scientist brought home free chocolate from work tonight. My hero.