Bananas in pajamas are coming down the stairs

Well, I only got to see about 20 minutes of the Lost season finale last night because a certain little man was not in a very good mood, but my friend at work was just filling me in on what happened. I did see the part where Walt visited Hurley in the mental hospital. Man, he looked like he was about 25. I'm sad about Jin though. I hope he got off that freighter somehow and was rescued by gentle sea turtles. That's so cool that Sun is turning all evil though. I wouldn't mess with her. She's skinny but tough...like beef jerky that's been exposed to air.

I think fate, destiny, God, whatever you want to call it has taken pity on my tired self this morning because my sister-in-law showed up to babysit today with a dozen donuts and my boss came to work with a dozen bagels. Awww yeah. Am I already full from eating my cereal and a donut this morning? Am I still going to have a bagel anyway? Uhh yeah!

Worst pain there is

I'm intrigued by these ads I've seen for the Bagelfuls (is that what they're called? The frozen bagels in tube form that have the cream cheese inside?). I'm a big bagel lover, so I'm tempted to try them. Especially if they come in an everything bagel flavor. I LOVE a good everything bagel. I've actually run down old ladies to get to one before. True story. But, as a society, I'm kind of sad that we've come to the point where we think it's too much of a hassle to heat up a bagel, apply cream cheese and carry it around. Of all the difficulties humankind has faced, I would have ranked bagel preparation and portability as pretty low on the list, but I could be wrong about that. It's sort of like when I found out they were making frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crust cut off. Like, really? It's that much of a bother to make a pb&j anymore? But, really, I shouldn't talk. I have had many a night where I've made J eat cereal for dinner with me because heating up a pizza seemed like too much work. I am no Martha Stewart, that's for sure.

Feeling okay

Well, you can definitely tell it's spring because all the hoodrat kids have emerged from the warm, smoky confines of their homes into the street in front of our house. Apparently, none of these kids have bedtimes because I go to sleep every night listening to them scream at the top of their lungs, dribble basketballs and throw things at the house. They are a delight! I really don't get it--they all have backyards they can play in, but they would much rather stand outside our door and play curb ball until 11 at night. I didn't even know what curb ball was until I moved into J's house. If you are unaware, let me explain it to you: 2 kids take up positions on either side of the street near the curb. Then they throw a ball back and forth, but they're trying to hit the edge of the curb so the ball returns to them instead of letting the other person catch it. And they can do this for HOURS. Thus, I am ever so grateful when somebody decides to park in front of our house so they have to move down a house or two to play. Ugh. Freakin' curb ball. Is it wrong to want to shoot bottle rockets at 10-year-olds? 'Cause, I'm telling you, they're asking for it.

Pot roast sandwich? Gimme!

Look at the feet on that sleeper! Adorable! I'm telling you, if I could somehow get away with wearing clothes like that every day, I would totally do it. And see that makeshift bed that Grandma made for Lil J on the couch? J calls that his "homeless man bed." Heh. I'm appalled by the insensitivity of that remark! No, not really.

Too hot to handle, too cold to hold

Is it possible for babies to get insomnia? Because Lil J was up at 12:30, 3:30 and for good at 4:30 last night. He wasn't having trouble breathing...it seemed like he was just wired. Apparently, feeding him chocolate-covered espresso beans at 9 last night was a bad idea. Note to self. Seriously, though, that was weird. You'd think he had things to worry about or something.

My friend at work and I were talking yesterday about work snacks. We both do this thing where, when we pass by the counter in the break room, if there's anything new sitting there, we zoom in immediately and investigate if it's something to eat. More often than not, it's just somebody putting some napkins or a tomato plant there (so cruel), but every once in a while, we find some cinnamon rolls and grapes. So gratifying, I can't even put it into words. It's kind of pathetic, but it's like winning our own little lottery. Sniff. I do love me some cinnamon rolls.

See my loafers? Former gophers!

Why is it that we bought all these interesting, colorful toys for Lil J to chew on, and the only things he grabs for are magazines, paper towels and our bills?

I just cleaned off my computer keyboard using some canned air. Wow, that was gross. I swear, I don't even eat at my desk but somehow half a bagel fell out of there. That is disturbing. Since J works in IT, he tells me all these stories about the filthy condition computers are often in, which always motivates me to clean mine off lest he think I'm a slob like everybody else. I don't know, even with that, I find it hard to keep my desk or my house really clean. I do straighten up every day and clean about once a week, but I just don't think I'll ever be one of those people who has a spotless house. For one thing, I'm not scared of germs. I get so frustrated by those commercials that tell us we need to sanitize every surface in our homes. Listen to me, of COURSE your toilet has tons of bacteria in it. But do you eat your lunch in there? No? Then it's not worth worrying about. Did you know Michelangelo lived to be 88 and he never bathed? He scraped the dirt off himself every once in a while with oil and a squeegee. True story.

"I have no name." "That might explain your lack of gainful employment"

I'm having another crisis about my hair. After seeing myself in a lot of pictures lately, I've determined that I don't look quite as good in a permanent ponytail as I thought I did. In fact, I think the ponytail is actually emphasizing my current jowliness (is that a word?). So I need to either a) cut bangs into my hair to hide more of my face or b) get my hair cut short so I don't have to pull it back all the time. There is an option c, but the odds of me shaving off all my hair are not good. I am certain I would not look good bald. I have a flat shelf on the top of my head that I really don't want to show people. Sometimes I wonder if my Mom let me stand on my head too much when I was a kid. I am getting off topic. Ok, so I need some advice on what to do with my coiffure. Keeping in mind that I only have 15 seconds a day to do my hair, what would be a good idea here? And, seriously, how did Gwyneth Paltrow have two small kids and every time you saw a picture of her, her waist-length hair was down? Lil J would have pulled out half that hair the minute he saw it. Freakin' Paltrow.

Demented and sad but social

Lil J's been having trouble sleeping the last couple nights because he keeps turning over onto his back while he sleeps even though that makes it a lot harder for him to breathe. So he winds up waking up from the gasping and the shock of it all, I imagine, and he starts crying. He was doing that so often last night and the night before that we finally gave him more steroids, which did wonders for his breathing. As much as I generally consider pharmaceutical companies to be worthless piles of worm-ridden filth (no offense), I have to admit that when a drug does what it's supposed to, it is a huge relief. Of course, I still worry that having Lil J on so many steroids will turn him into an overly-aggressive, green-skinned mini-Hulk by the times he's 9 months old. But I'll just have to have faith that once he gets a little older, he'll be ok. I just don't want him beating up other babies in the park because of 'roid rage. How embarrassing.

We have a winner

It turns out Lil J does have the tracheomalacia. From what the doctors have said, it's a flimsiness in the windpipe because his throat cartilage (for whatever reason) didn't mature quick enough, so when he breathes, the windpipe collapses partially. The radiologist yesterday noticed it as he was doing the fluoroscopy, but we still need to talk to one of the doctors to find out about treatments. From what the internet tells me, he'll just have to grow out of it, but I'm hoping there's something we can do to make him more comfortable. The ER doctors said being on his belly would make it easier for him to breathe, and I noticed Lil J's been dive-bombing off my shoulder into the Super Baby flying position a lot lately, so I think even the baby noticed he feels better in that position. But I'm wondering if we should put him to sleep on his belly in the hopes he won't wake up gasping anymore. I'll have to ask the doctor.

Yellow, absorbent and porous is he

See, Lil J's expression right there is pretty much how I look when he starts gasping for breath at 2 a.m. and we run into the nursery to make sure he's ok. He was up twice last night with breathing troubles. Fortunately, he was doing better when we left for work this morning. And we've got his fluoroscopy test this afternoon, so hopefully that'll give us some idea of what's causing all this.

You know, I just reread what I wrote and it sounds like I'm using the royal "we." Actually just referring to me and J there. I think pretty highly of myself, but I don't think THAT highly of myself.

That's just my pet snake, Reggie

One of the things that's been hard to deal with when it comes to Lil J having these croupy breathing episodes is the fact that the doctors and nurses we've seen have all told us that we need to try to keep Lil J from getting upset because crying makes it harder for him to breathe. Now, getting a 5-month-old to not cry at all is about as likely as Mariah Carey not wearing Lycra, so I'm not even going to try that. But even just keeping him crying calmly is hard. I mean, this little guy is generally pretty happy, but, man, when he's hungry, you have to insert food in mouth in less than 15 seconds or his face starts turning a disturbing shade of crimson. He's very serious about his food. But I've decided that until he starts to breathe normally again, I'm not even going to try to sleep train him or space out his feedings like I "should." I just don't care anymore. If he wants to fall asleep in my arms after I've fed him twice in an hour, so be it. It's like I always say: I can only care about so much at any one time. If I'm worried about Burmese farmers and then there's an earthquake in China, Burma has to take a back seat. I'm sorry, but that's my emotional quota. I'm not going to drive myself crazy worrying. I am only one Ann.

Smoking is very bad for you, ok?

I'm going to let you in on a little secret about J. You know how I like to use quotes from movies in my blog post titles, yes? Well, I definitely have a few favorites that I draw from frequently, but I try to mix it up a bit, throw in a Last of the Mohicans reference just to keep things interesting. You dig. But whenever J quotes a line from a movie then asks me "What's that from?" I always answer the same three movies: The Matrix, Fight Club or Gone in 60 Seconds. Those are the only three movies he ever quotes. And, I swear, he's seen other movies, but he apparently doesn't find them that interesting on a literary level. Of course, there was a period there when he'd quote lines from his video games at me, but I finally had to tell him I had no idea what he was talking about and, frankly, he was starting to sound crazy, and he stopped doing that. But I guess this is why it's good he has his gamer friends. They speak the same jive. Me, I'll just keep watching Muppet movies, thank you very much.

Oh, and by the way, I fell asleep at 8:45 last night so I didn't get to see any of my shows yet. It's pitiful.

It belongs in a museum!

I'm reading this book that Alisa and her mom recommended called Mistress of the Art of Death about a female coroner in Medieval Europe. And it's really good--there's a good murder mystery at the center of the plot, but I love the discussion of a woman's "place" in that society. I mean, this whole idea that women were inherently sinful (thanks a lot, EVE) is so ludicrous that it's funny to me, but then I remind myself that people actually believed that. And some people probably still do. So bizarre. And you know how I hate to judge, but are the women who belong to that polygamous religion in Texas crazy or what? Don't you want to set up a meeting with these chicks and spend a good 30 to 40 minutes just shaking them? I mean, I was an anthropology minor in college, so I have to at least try to take a step back and remember that I should not draw conclusions about other cultures, religions, etc..., but, honestly, this is America in 2008. What in the world are these women thinking, engaging in polygamous marriage, having no rights and wearing such unattractive dresses? I mean, you don't have to be Paris Hilton, but I like to think that most of us occupy a happy medium in there.

You snooze, you make Mommy very happy

I've had this video on my cell phone for about three weeks and am finally getting around to posting it. I hope the audio comes through when you play it, because his exclamations of "Ahh! AHHHH!" are hilarious. But even if your computer is mute, please take note of how hard he is chewing on that one finger of his. He gums that sucker like crazy. And he likes the taste of J's fingers, too, although mine are apparently too bland. Hmph.

There I was, there I was, in the Congo

I was driving into work this morning, and for some reason I started to wonder what Paris Hilton's husband will be like if she ever gets married. Two words came to mind: "dirt" and "bag."

We had a really good weekend. My Mom came into town on Saturday, so we took Lil J to Target. It had been months since I'd stepped foot in a Target since last time he cried the minute we got in the door. But he was very well-behaved on Saturday. My m.o. now is to feed him right before I go anywhere or attempt to do anything that even has a remote chance of upsetting him. Therapeutic feeding. Yep, I'm turning him into an emotional eater like Oprah. And then on Sunday we went to visit my side of the family. That was a hoot. Nephews 2, 3, 5 and 6 were there, so it was a blur of running, burping and squealing. Which, I imagine, will be like that until they're out of college.

And I want to wish Beth a happy belated birthday! You, my friend, do not look a day over 24. You people and your good genes...make me sick ;)

No grapes, no nuts

I must be going through another hormone surge because I keep seeing this commercial during Cash Cab for the Discovery Channel (the one where all the Discovery Channel hosts and other celebrities and such are singing the "Boom dee ahh da" song and saying how wonderful the world is), and every time I get all misty. I make myself sick sometimes! But that whole idea that the world is a delightful place full of beauty and mystery just makes me want to go outside, hug a shrub and high five a squirrel. And don't even get me started on the Louis Armstrong "What a Wonderful World" song. I cry like a little girl. All my cynical talk about people is simply a ruse to cover up the fact that I love humankind, I believe we're all capable of wondrous things and I really want to go live in the mountains, wear a sheet and chant about hummingbirds. There. I admit it.

P.S. Does anybody else find this marriage between Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon to be weird? I guess it's because I think of her as being pretty old and him as a teenager, but I can't help but think he married his mom somehow. Ewww.

And Leon is getting larger

Lil J has been doing a lot of new and interesting things lately: grabbing objects, eating cereal, flailing around on his belly, refusing to sleep and (my favorite) humming. He just sits there, tucks in his bottom lip and starts "Mmmmmmm"ing for 15 minutes straight. So this, of course, makes me and J hum back at him, and the result is that our house sounds like a pod of humpback whales lives there. You know, I've had a soft spot for humpback whales ever since I saw Star Trek IV and they had to go back in time to kidnap a couple whales named George and Gracie and take them into the future to save all mankind. Favorite line from that movie is when Chekov says to the people on the street "We are looking for nuclear wessels." See, when the Cold War ended, we lost a lot of good jokes...and villains in James Bond movies. Sure, you can use Middle Eastern terrorists as the villains now, but that seems so racist. It's much less complicated when the bad guy is also white and just horrifically scarred.

And, just so you know, when I was a kid, I never understood why Spock from Star Trek wrote books on babies. It wasn't until I was about 12 that I figured out that Dr. Spock was an entirely different person. But, to this day, I expect Leonard Nimoy to know a lot about babies. True story.