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Fri 03/09/2012
The Real Mike

Back before I met James, my parents had a season ticket mini plan for the Carolina Hurricanes. My brother and I went a lot. Our favorite player was Mike Commodore. I mean, how can you not love this? Kevin even got a Commodore jersey. Needless to say, we were disappointed when he was traded. I promptly ordered an official Mike Commodore Fighting Sioux bobblehead.

Much more recently, I pulled my bobblehead collection out of its storage box. (Mike was not in there; he had a prized place on my dresser.) Patrick, as previously noted, is fascinated by my bobbleheads. I was going to try to sell them for a profit on ebay, but a quick search showed that ... nobody else wants them either. So I let Patrick abuse them. He likes the baseball players, but he is totally fascinated by Mike, "who has orange hair."   

Me: Patrick, do you know who else has orange hair?
Patrick: Um. ... No?
Me: Does Daddy have orange hair?
Patrick: No!
Me: Does Patrick have orange hair?
Patrick: No! Me: What color is your hair?
Patrick: Black!

For Christmas, I gave James three tickets to a Hurricanes game. I got tickets for a family night in March. March 3, to be exact, vs. Tampa Bay. (I have some weird connection to Tampa Bay ... dating back to my interview with the Astros.) Now, of course I told James that he didn't have to, you know, take me and Patrick, he could go with his buddies or whatever. He said not to be silly, of course he was going with us. Then I discovered the Dook-Carolina game was March 3 at 7 p.m. I told James that REALLY it was okay if he wanted to go with his buddies. He said no.

THEN. Mike Commodore was traded to Tampa Bay. I was entirely too excited. We told Patrick we were going to see the real Mike at the hockey game. He asked if it was the basketball game with the loud horn (he was traumatized by the wine-and-cheese fans in Chapel Hill ... not a good sign). We assured him it was not the basketball game. I hoped maybe the Hurricanes wouldn't score much. When we got ready to go and put our jerseys on, Patrick asked if this meant he could go play on the ice with Mike. Even though we told him no, he was still super excited.

We got inside and looked at the John Deere tractors on display, and watched the John Deere zamboni, and rode the escalator, and Patrick kept saying, over and over, "Can I see the real Mike?" We got to our seats, in the top row of the arena, just before the national anthem.

"Where's the real Mike"?


The game started, and luckily, Mike was playing. Patrick was excited, but yet disappointed because he couldn't see Mike's orange hair under his helmet.

AND THEN THE HURRICANES SCORED. The goal horn went off. Patrick's face crumpled.

"I wanna go hooooooooooome," he cried. He calmed down a bit after we took a quick trip to see the tractor again and rode the escalators. James got some food. It was dollar dog night, so that's what we had.

Patrick kept eyeing the nachos the guy next to us had.


We managed to make it through the first period, and part of the second. Then Patrick said, "Mommy? Can we go home now? These people are too loud."

We took this picture, and then left.


On the way out, the Hurricanes scored twice more. But then they lost so I didn't feel too bad.

When we got home, Patrick said, "Can I watch a video of Mike on your computer? Where I can see his orange hair?" So for the last week, Patrick and I have been watching Mike Commodore fights on YouTube. I have to admit, it's pretty fun. :)


Posted by Molly at 5:03 PM EST
Updated: Fri 03/09/2012 5:04 PM EST
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Wed 02/22/2012
38"

 

 

Today was Patrick's 3-year-old well-child visit. He's actually three years, two months and two days, but who's counting? I had been trying to talk up the doctor visit the last couple of days so he wouldn't be like his mother freak out, since I wasn't sure if he had to get a shot or not. (He didn't, but he had to get blood drawn via finger stick, which sucked. I hate those myself.) So he was pretty excited to get weighed and measured and 'see if I'm a big kid.' He was 32 lbs, 4 oz, and 38 inches tall. I like the number 38. His BP was 78/54. (Mine has never been that low in the presence of a medical professional except when I was bleeding profusely.) He was so, so good during his appointment, and when the doctor came in, he launched into a monologue about how Woody might climb up the wall, jump off the fire alarm into the ceiling tile and maybe get a kite, and then he'd (Patrick) have to go up after him and get Daddy's ladder, and be very, very careful on Daddy's ladder, and then on the roof, maybe they would get a kite. This is one of my favorite things (so far) about age 3: the monologues. He just gets going and ... doesn't stop. It's a huge run-on sentence with lots of commas and "and thens." People tell me he's a talker. I don't know, since he's my first, so I just think that's how kids are. :) But I hope he is. I hope he takes after his father in that regard, and never has any problems talking to people. 

He still cries when I drop him off at daycare, and it breaks my heart every time. Because as much as he doesn't want to be there (in that moment), I don't want him to have to be there. Also, I don't want to go to work. So when he says he doesn't want to go to daycare, I'm right there with him. If he says he doesn't want to go to bed at night, he wants to stay up for 'just one more monkey,' because he'd rather watch "Curious George" than have to go to sleep so he can wake up and go to daycare, I can empathize. So, I enable him. If it's all manipulation, Patrick, you win. I don't care. I like to think you're taking after me, although perhaps you should try not to.

I heard that age 3 is way worse than age 2. So far, it's not. So far, Patrick's great. Of course I'm biased, but he is. He's fun, and he's smart, and he's sort of okay with the idea of having a sister in June. (As long as she doesn't take his crib -- that he no longer sleeps in -- or play with his toys.) He asked me about a month ago if I was going to poop the baby out, and then two nights ago, he asked if the doctor was going to cut open my tummy to get the baby out. I told him he pretty much has it covered, one way or the other.

There are two new things that Patrick has mastered at age 3, both of which probably only matter to me. One: alternating feet going up the steps. He has always led with his left foot (and I still hope he's going to be my little southpaw) but he finally figured out you could do one and then the other. He's even faster now. Two: sleeping under the covers. Patrick had blankets in his crib once he turned 1, and he's been in his bed for a little more than a year, and for the longest time, he would NOT pull up the covers. I mean, he'd go to sleep with them on, then kick them off, get cold, and cry. Only lately has he been sleeping under the covers. And actually the other day I went to wake him up, and he'd somehow managed to turn all the way upside down, still completely under the covers. He seems to like to sleep with something over his head, so it's a good thing we didn't let him sleep with blankets when he was younger.

Patrick really likes watching Toy Story (we have the first and third one, or as Patrick calls them, the "dog Woody" or the "bear Woody") and Curious George, and he really likes trains. Thomas, of course; Dinosaur Train; the train at the Museum of Life & Science; and the train downtown (Amtrak), which my mom and I have promised him that he can ride sometime. Patrick loves chewing gum (and leaving ABC gum EVERYWHERE), especially Uncle Kevin's 'green gum' (spearmint). He also loves anything sweet. He does not really seem to care for vegetables or basically anything good for him. In fact, he told me the other day that he doesn't like the spaghetti I make at home -- he likes the spaghetti they eat at daycare. Sigh.

Patrick has also taken to repeating things that he shouldn't. This is completely his father's fault. He abuses plays with my bobbleheads (which I should never have let him play with), calls them his kids. One night, the kids were fighting in his bedroom, and Richard called Jeffy a stupid m*ther f*cker.

"Patrick!" I said. "We don't say that. Where did you hear that?"

"Daddy says it," said Patrick, grinning.

"Daddy only says it when he's playing his evil video games," I said. "So we don't say that."

The next night, the kids were fighting again. Once again, Richard called Jeffy a stupid m*ther f*cker. Patrick looked at me and said, "It's okay, Mommy, I won't say it at daycare."
 

 

 


 

 


Posted by Molly at 3:26 PM EST
Updated: Wed 02/22/2012 3:59 PM EST
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Thu 02/16/2012
My Little Manipulator

Last night, I wanted to watch the Carolina game. Patrick wanted to watch Curious George. So I told him he could have a turn and watch George, then I would have a turn and watch basketball. He said okay. We watched George. Then he turned to me and said, "Just one more, monkey? Okay?" And I said, "No, Patrick, now it's my turn." And he said, "Okay, Mommy, it's your turn to watch my show."

-----

I turned the basketball game on anyway, with the plan that Patrick would go to bed at halftime (~9pm, his supposed bedtime), which might have worked (probably not) had he not spontaneously started jumping up and down on the couch yelling "GO TAR HEELS!" Score one for Patrick, the little manipulator, who got to stay up until the game was over.

-----

This morning, when we got to daycare, Patrick's class was already playing outside, so I took him over to the door, and the teacher came over to supervise the handoff. Then I went over to sign him in and he came running across the room and yelled, "One more hug!" and gave me a big hug before he ran back outside. I melted. It was so adorably cute. 


Posted by Molly at 3:45 PM EST
Updated: Thu 02/16/2012 3:55 PM EST
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Sat 02/11/2012
Update

So. I sort of went all stealth mode there for a while. Let's catch up. Sort of last minute, Kevin and I decided to do our sibling fun weekend at Busch Gardens. We had missed baseball season, would have enjoyed a football game in Pittsburgh except it was so expensive, and weren't super excited about hockey season. Kevin had a tradition of going to Hallow-Scream (not with any of his family, ha) and wanted to go back. We found a weekend where the Kingsmill Resort had a room for two nights (only place Kevin will stay), got BOGO tickets to the park, and we were set.

Meanwhile, James and I had been TTC. This had been going on since April or May, with no success as yet. Some months we probably tried harder than others. This time, we didn't try overly hard. I had stopped temping because I thought I was probably getting too obsessive about it. HOWEVER. We happened to hit the timing pretty well BY ACCIDENT.

The day we were leaving for Busch Gardens was the day my period was due. Normally I would have peed on a stick, but James was out of town at a funeral and didn't want to miss all the fun. So I didn't. I did, however, pee on an ovulation test that I randomly had. I had read that it was the same hormone, but of course wasn't reliable. I was NOT ovulating, but in fact the control line was super faint. I found a posting in an online forum that someone had had this happen to her and been pregnant. Hmm.

I started googling things like 'riding roller coasters while 10 days pregnant.' You know, just in case. The consensus was: don't. The problem with this was that Kevin was NOT going to let me off the hook, and it would have been fair to him anyway to not go on any of the rides, and I was trying so hard not to let TTC impact my life. So: ignorance is bliss.


Busch Gardens was pretty awesome. I hadn't been in probably 10+ years. We drove up on Saturday, checked in to the hotel and headed to the park, mostly for the Hallow-Scream festivities ... and a couple of roller coasters. We went straight to the Loch Ness Monster, which is starting to feel a little dated (as it should) but is a classic.


The "scream" part of the evening was fun too, especially since they had scary clowns, and Kevin has a clown phobia. We REALLY enjoyed dinner at the smokehouse in New France. Also, it was cold. The next day, Sunday, the park was SO dead. We went straight on the Loch Ness without any wait at all. Then we went again. We were trying to get a classic photo to remember our trip by, but we were unsuccessful. The best photo was actually when we went on the lame log flume ride and Kevin was cowering in the back (trying not to get wet). Kevin also convinced me to ride Griffon (twice), which sort of made me feel like I did that time in Vegas on top of the Stratosphere when my life flashed before my eyes. We left not too long into the evening and went back to order room service.

I got back Monday afternoon, and still had neither started my period nor taken a pregnancy test. Although I was pretty sure it was going to be positive by that point, because I am nothing if not regular. For some reason or other, I STILL did not pee on a stick until Tuesday night.

Patrick sees no evil.

It was positive. Yay! ... But after last year, we weren't getting too excited just yet. Next up:

Looking good, but still too early to stop worrying.


Soon after, the baby was already mocking my worry.

Around the time we hit the second trimester (still having told very few people ... except Lark, who is also pregnant and due two days before me, and Sarah, who is also pregnant and due about a month after me), it was time for this:

I still owe him a "3" update, which perhaps I will get to before he turns 38 months old. His 3-year well-child visit isn't until Feb. 22 so maybe that's what counts. (Aside: what kind of primary care provider has a 5-week wait for established patients?)


Then it was Christmas. We did the big reveal at Christmas dinner (at our house) with my parents and Kevin and Chris, Jeff & Megan present. Mom and Chris were super excited. :)

We went up to Asheville to tour the Biltmore Estate after Christmas, but you weren't allowed to take pictures inside (lame) and my mom has the ones of Patrick in the pool on her camera and I haven't seen them. (Hint, hint, MOM, if you're reading this.)

I felt like this baby was a girl. The Chinese lunar calendar said so. I was super sick at night. I felt way worse than I ever did with Patrick during the first trimester. I normally don't trust my intuition because I'm an overanxious worrywart, and I'm usually wrong. But when we went to the ultrasound, I would have been SHOCKED to discover it was another boy.

And, I was right. And she is not shy. Also, when the tech started the ultrasound, James announced that he saw a giant penis. HA.

So pretty much, that brings us to date. I will attempt to write Patrick's 3 letter as well as obsess over my latest worry regarding the pregnancy. You can't wait. :)


Posted by Molly at 11:14 PM EST
Updated: Sat 02/11/2012 11:16 PM EST
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Mon 01/16/2012
I'm Just Sitting Out Here Watching [Trains]

Dear Patrick,

Today, we spent two hours waiting for a train to come.

We started the day lazily enough. You wandered downstairs around 8. I was still in bed, though I was awake, trying not to be. You see, I had the day off, but your dad had to work. Normally, this would be cause for daycare to be closed, but it was actually open today -- something about the employees wanting three days off at July 4th, which I imagine was something of a hardship to any employees who happen to have school-age children, as all schools were closed -- but I digress. You wanted to watch The Princess and The Frog (you like the 'scary man'), a calculated move, since you know the movie is longer than a standard episode of Curious George, which is what you usually get to watch before daycare. You also knew, since Daddy was at work, that you would be expected to go to daycare. Full disclosure, I did consider sending you and having a day to wallow on the couch watching bad TV, but when the movie ended and you turned to me with your puppy dog eyes and said, "I don't want to go to daycare. I don't like Ms. Cici," I said you didn't have to go.

I still didn't have any plans for the day, but then your dad called and asked if we wanted to meet him for lunch, so we headed into Durham. There's a little Mexican restaurant we like in Brightleaf Square, which is right next to the railroad tracks (and also my favorite place for coffee, which I did consider). Whenever we get Mexican, you always order a quesadilla, and you order it yourself. You ate it all, and you said you really liked the salsa at this place. As we were leaving, we heard a train whistle. Your face lit up, and we ran to the railroad tracks ... and we waited. The train had stopped at the station, so we walked up to the corner and watched the train go by.

One might think you would be satisfied. One would be wrong. Immediately, you said, "I want to see another train." I should mention here that it was about 44 degrees and windy at this time, and I didn't have a coat, because I thought we'd just be running to the restaurant and back. (At least I had your coat, though.) I have been to this particular restaurant at this particular time before, and usually about three trains go by over the course of an hour or so. Since we'd only seen/heard the one, I thought, well surely another will be by soon. You can guess where this is going, right?

First I tried to convince you to sit at the coffee shop for a bit -- you can see the tracks from there. You said you wanted coffee, but quickly lost interest. So we walked over to the station and back. Then I called Uncle Kevin, and he came over to have coffee with us.

STILL NO TRAIN.

We went to a little woodworking store by the train station for a while, and distracted you with orange soda. We walked back around the station again. My coffee got cold. You asked if we could ride the train when it came. I said it wasn't like the train at the museum; this train went far, far away. You seemed fine with that idea. I started to lose hope. Kevin went home. I convinced you to go back to the car, only by agreeing to sit in the car and wait for the train in the parking lot. So that's what we did.

Finally, we saw a train.

This was good for about 2.5 seconds, until you decided you wanted to get on the train. When I said you couldn't, because it was going far away, you said, "But Mommy, I want to go far away."

Up until that point, it was a really good day.

You fell asleep on the way home, so I still consider it a success.

Anyway, Patrick, I just want to note that we spent two hours waiting for a train to come. And we had fun.

Love,
Mom


Posted by Molly at 10:48 PM EST
Updated: Sat 02/11/2012 10:20 PM EST
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Fri 09/09/2011
99 Things

It's been a while since I've done something like this...lucky you. ;)

1. Started my own blog – obviously the answer is yes … several times over
2. Slept under the stars – erm, no. I’ve been camping, though, does that count?
3. Played in a band – no, closest I got was recorder choir in elementary school
4. Visited Hawaii – no and not near the top of my list either
5. Watched a meteor shower – yes, although somewhat lazily
6. Given more than I can afford to charity – <small voice> no </small voice>
7. Been to Disneyland/world – yes to Disneyworld (…I worked there) but never Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain – not precisely, though I have been to the top of Pikes Peak and the top of Europe (Jungfrau) thanks to cable cars
9. Held a praying mantis – no and I hope never to be faced with this prospect
10. Sung a solo – no … I can’t sing … at all
11. Bungee jumped – no
12. Visited Paris – on my list … closer to the top
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea – well, yes, from the beach
14. Taught myself an art from scratch –.not well, hee
15. Adopted a child – no, and I don’t know how I’d feel about that, either
16. Had food poisoning – probably?
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty – yes, before 9/11
18. Grown my own vegetables – yes! we have successfully grown tomatoes, basil and parsley ... not so successful with the cucumbers or carrots but did produce some as well
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France – no
20. Slept on an overnight train – no, although I’m sure I’ve dozed on a non-overnight train ;)
21. Had a pillow fight – yes, most recently with Patrick
22. Hitchhiked – nope *shudders*
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill – well, I like to call them mental health days … very restorative
24. Built a snow fort – nah, we never get enough snow for that
25. Held a lamb – maybe? at a petting zoo? in my youth?
26. Gone skinny dipping – why yes, yes I have … but in the hot tub in the back yard
27. Run a marathon – no and I can’t see that ever happening
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice – no but I rode in a gondola at the Italian village at Epcot (hah)
29. Seen a total eclipse – no … just partials
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset – yes … many sunsets, fewer sunrises but both neat from a plane
31. Hit a home run – no … I never could get my timing right and I always swung too early
32. Been on a cruise – no and this is not on my list
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person – yes, from both countries :)
34. Visited the birthplace of my ancestors – well some of them anyway … Ireland, last year
35. Seen an Amish community – why yes, I have been to Intercourse, PA
36. Taught myself a new language – no
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied – yes, I suppose I have had enough but I worry about it so I haven’t actually been truly satisfied … I need to work on being grateful and appreciating what I have
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person – no
39. Gone rock climbing – well I did climb Split Rock at Grandfather Mountain…
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David – nope … I’m sadly unworldly
41. Sung karaoke – once, in a large enough group that I could mouth the words (see #10)
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt – no but this is one I really want to do
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant – yes … when we were in the mountains over July 4
th
weekend there was a guy eating (and drinking) alone across from us … he smiled at Patrick and we thought he looked lonely … I hope he didn’t feel offended; I even overthink random acts of kindness apparently
44. Visited Africa – once it was a (slim) possibility that I might have been sent there for work … I thought of every possible excuse not to go, although that is probably wrong of me
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight – oh yes, and I hope to do it again soon … like tomorrow
46. Been transported in an ambulance – no, although I did require an after midnight trip to the ER with Patrick curiously awake in the backseat
47. Had my portrait painted – not to my knowledge
48. Gone deep sea fishing – no, that’s James’s territory
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person – no

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris – no but another one I’d like to
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkelling – no, not interest
52. Kissed in the rain – I must have, right?
53. Played in the mud – sure
54. Gone to a drive-in theatre – I don’t think so
55. Been in a movie – no … some of my coworkers were (tried to be?) extras in Walk the Line when they were filming in Memphis but I didn’t even try
56. Visited the Great Wall of China – no
57. Started a business – no … I’d like to but I need investors … anyone?
58. Taken a martial arts class – never found the idea attractive really.
59. Visited Russia – no … I go back and forth on whether I’d like to
60. Served at a soup kitchen – no
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies – yes … and bought many more
62. Gone whale watching – er, no
63. Got flowers for no reason – sometimes James buys me flowers for no official reason but I assume it’s because I’m so fabulous
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma – no
65. Gone sky diving – no
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp – no
67. Bounced a check – no although I’ve overdrawn my account … once
68. Flown in a helicopter – no … might be fun
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy – well, my mom saved them … I just pulled out my old Lovey Bear for Patrick, who was unimpressed
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial – yes!
71. Eaten caviar – no!
72. Pieced a quilt – I am crafty in some ways; sewing/quilting is not one of these
73. Stood in Times Square – yes … it was busy
74. Toured the Everglades – no
75. Been fired from a job – yes and I’m still not over it … sorry I couldn’t get my nose a little browner, there, buddy
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London – no
77. Broken a bone – yes (tibia, Oct. 10, 1988 … clearly a memorable experience)
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle – James made me go on the back of his once … I think we went about 20mph but it felt really fast
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person – no … on my list though
80. Published a book – self-published … which means no
81. Visited the Vatican – nope
82. Bought a brand new car no; I’ve only officially bought two cars and both were slightly used
83. Walked in Jerusalem – no
84. Had my picture in the newspaper – yes … when playing hooky from work one afternoon … and not the job I was fired from, either, ha
85. Read the entire Bible – no but I would like to
86. Visited the White House – yes
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating – mostly I dislike raw things … and I’ve never killed/hunted anything
88. Had chickenpox – yep … they have a shot for that now … Patrick hasn’t gotten it
89. Saved someone’s life – not that I’m aware of
90. Sat on a jury – no, I luckily was living out of state last time I got summoned
91. Met someone famous – I met Kurt Browning, that counts for me … and some ballplayers, which you may or may not count
92. Joined a book club – no
93. Lost a loved one – yes
94. Had a baby – yes … I’d like another, please
95. Seen the Alamo in person – yep
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake – no … been to Salt Lake City though
97. Been involved in a law suit – no
98. Owned a cell phone – yeah, I need a new one though
99. Been stung by a bee – yes, and although getting stung on the inner thigh by a wasp was worse, I find I am very fearful of bees


Posted by Molly at 4:54 PM EDT
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Mon 09/05/2011

We went to the Museum of Life and Science on Saturday. Patrick has been there a few times. The first time we went was in June 2010. We rode the train with Mom & Aunt Chris -- Patrick's first train ride, and it was super hot, and Mom decided to buy a museum membership.

 Uhh ... mom?

Patrick has been back a couples of times since then with Grandma and Grandpa. It seems like a pretty fun place for kids. I like the dinosaur trail.

 "So, you're a herbivore, right?"

The grandparents took Patrick to the museum I guess around the end of June this year. They had tickets for the train -- sidebar: You have to buy tickets at the admissions desk when you first walk in and buy your museum tickets. You CANNOT buy tickets at the train. I guess once you've realized that it's no big deal but I think it's stupid. The train also is smallish, so it sells out rapidly. -- and were first in line for their scheduled departure. Patrick was all excited until he totally flipped out because the train was so loud. He refused to get on, much to the chagrin of Grandpa, who I got my cheap gene from and who was peeved to have wasted $9.

 

Nonetheless, James and I took Patrick to Tweetsie Railroad for the Fourth of July. We were a bit nervous given this bit of news about Patrick's reluctance to ride the train, but we figured there was enough other stuff to do that it would be okay even if he did not want to ride. Our fears were unfounded. He LOVED it. We rode it twice.

 

When we got home, my mom asked me how he'd done. I said he loved it. She said, "Patrick, will you ride the train at the museum with Grandma and Grandpa?" He said no. Back to Saturday. There were two trains with seats available. We asked Patrick if he wanted to ride. He said no. We asked if he was sure. He said no. We didn't buy tickets. As soon as we walked outside, Patrick said he wanted to see the train. My mom and I exchanged a glace. We asked him, again, if he wanted to ride. He said no, he just wanted to see it. True to his word, he did not want to ride it. He covered his ears. (It wasn't running at the time.) He said he wanted to watch it, but he had no interest in riding it. Then he said he wanted Grandma to take him to Tweetsie Railroad.

Sand. Not train.

After the museum, we grabbed dinner at Parker & Otis in downtown Durham, which is right by the train station. You can see the tracks if you're sitting on the outside deck/eating area. Which we were not. We had just started eating when the train whistle blew. Patrick wanted to go outside and watch. Since he is spoiled rotten, Grandma took him out. As soon as they came back in, he wanted to go out again. We told him if he heard the whistle, we would take him back out. "I heard the whistle, Grandma," he said, immediately. When that didn't work, he moved on ... to Grandpa. Eventually he and Grandpa ended up outside while Mom and I were doing a bit of browsing around the store. "I hope he's okay," said my mom, "since I don't think there's going to be another train. And he's so excited." We were on our way out when we heard a whistle.

Patrick was indeed so excited. And he got to see a nice long freight train. And that is the perfect place to put in one of the pictures of Grandpa and Patrick watching the train but those pictures on not on my camera so just imagine that and think, "Aww."

[placeholder for image ... heh]


Posted by Molly at 12:06 AM EDT
Updated: Mon 09/05/2011 11:40 PM EDT
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Fri 08/26/2011
Bedtime

Tonight, Patrick and I had the following conversation while I was putting him to bed:

P: Mommy, I want to go to the beacher on Saturday.
M: Yes, we're going to the beach in a few Saturdays, when the house is ready.
P: We'll play in the sand.
M: And the water.
P: No, it's yucky water and there's sharks in the water and they would bite me and hurt me.
M: Well, I don't think the sharks will get you. But we could dip our toes in.
P: No, Mommy. Not in the water. The sharks would hurt me.
M: Okay, Patrick. Well, there's a pool, too.
P: There's a big storm coming.
M: Yes, there's a big storm coming.
P: But not today.
M: No, not today. It's probably coming tomorrow.
P: [covers his ears]
M: It's okay, it's not storming now. If you wake up and it's storming, you can come get Mommy.
P: The storm will hit the beach house. Not Mommy. Not Patrick. Not Daddy. Not Grandpa. Not Grandma. Not Kevin.
M: Right. The big storm is at the beach.
P: Not today. Tomorrow.
M: Mm-hmm.
P: I want to to go to the beach on Saturday.

I realize this is probably not cute to anyone but me but I think it's adorable.


Posted by Molly at 12:06 AM EDT
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Thu 08/25/2011
And Another Thing

To add to to my list of first world problems. This one is actually a small thing in actuality but emotionally, it really sucks and it makes me quite angry.

My insurance is pretty good. It's one of the "golden handcuffs" of my job. Cost me $250 to have Patrick. (If I manage to have another child before July 2012, it will cost $750 and who knows after that, so I'm rapidly losing goodwill for this insurance but whatever.) $20 for a regular office copay. Maternity coverage is such that you pay a $20 copay for your first visit to confirm pregnancy, then everything else is covered at 100% until you get to the hospital. So, yay. Last November, you'll recall, I got a positive pregnancy test, went to Ireland, then scheduled an appointment for Dec. 14, when I'd be about nine weeks pregnant. I went, paid my copay, and then expected that would be it until sometime in July.

My next appointment was delayed due to snow, and eventually came about on Jan. 20. I did NOT pay a copay, as I was on the maternity rider. Except, of course, as I found out at that appointment, I wasn't pregnant anymore. So for my two follow-up appointments over the next two weeks, I had to pay my copay. Which I thought was in poor taste, really, as it was still pregnancy-related, certainly, but I wasn't going to quibble about it. Anyway, eventually that all got sorted out and I went on my merry way.

In July, instead of getting a baby, I got a bill from my doctor's office. It seems that they had decided to adjust my insurance claims. The claims, which had been paid under the maternity coverage, were now re-coded to regular office visits. What this meant was that I would be expected to pay a copay for the Jan. 20 appointment. I think that's a really shitty thing to do to someone who's had a miscarriage, but I don't know who decided to re-code it, and I guess they all have to make their money somehow. So, not THAT big a deal. Except, in their recoding, the doctor's office screwed up and was trying now to charge me for two entire appointments, despite the fact that they had ALREADY BEEN PAID by my insurance company.

I called them up and very politely explained that I had an explanation of benefits from my insurance company that said they could only charge me $20, so I'd appreciate it if they stopped sending me bills for $451.00. The nice lady said, "Oh, I see what's happened, I'll fix it." I then expected to receive a bill for $20 this month. So last week, when I was already quite a fragile flower over Aunt Flo's unwanted arrival, I was not amused to find a bill for $283.00.

It seemed that the nice lady had only fixed one of the appointments. I cried. I am upset that I am not pregnant again yet and money issues ALWAYS upset me, and I do not want to be dealing with this STILL. 

I was all set to call them this morning but I checked my account balance online and they have two outstanding $20 copays. So I'm not sure what the issue is with the billing folks. I guess everything's set but they're still trying to charge me a $20 copay for my very first appointment which I ALREADY PAID. I don't think I feel like pursuing it, but it's ANNOYING.

I'll try to stop bitching soon. I actually want to write a post on religion. Ha. if that isn't something to look forward to, I don't know what is.


Posted by Molly at 11:43 AM EDT
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Tue 08/23/2011
First World Problems

Last week was not one of my best.

Monday - I went to the bank, to deposit, among other things, a check for $1.11. A "partial refund" from our beach week payment because, in the time between paying our first installmant and second installment (I guess?) the sales tax rate that the rental company is allowed to charge us went from 5.75% to 4.75%. They sent a nice letter explaining that they had known this was going to happen, but you see they couldn't DO anything about it, and so they had to accept our whole entire payment but now! Now we get a refund! "This will cost more in gas to get to the bank than it's worth," I grumbled to James. Then, in the parking lot of the bank, I had a fender-bender. The cop said it was a no-fault thing, and the other driver spoke no English and had no driver's license (but not to worry, Other Driver, that's okay if you're on private property!), but no doubt my insurance company will find a way to raise my rates. I wasn't going to even report it, there's not that much damage, and on a Jeep, it makes it look authentic (heh) but apparently the other (UNLICENSED) driver wants my insurance to pay for the damage to her car. I mean, I don't know, if you don't have a license so you follow the law and don't drive, then you wouldn't be involved in fender benders. JUST SAYING. Now I have to deal with insurance and I really don't want to be bothered.

Thursday - I got my period. We'd timed everything properly, during, say, the first week of August, and of course there was no particular reason this cycle should work, but there was no particular reason it shouldn't. I cried. Yet more announcements have been made on Facebook. People who have children that are more than a full year YOUNGER than Patrick have already HAD their second. I have two friends who are baking a third. I am TRYING not to be all "woe is me, pity party, boo hoo" but I had really HOPED to be pregnant by my original due date. Of course I hope everything goes smoothly for all my pregnant (and trying) friends, but you start to get these uncharitable jealous feelings. Why her and not me? Etc.

Undated - This is wholly my own doing, but I have Gained Weight. Not a significant amount, really. I had Lost Weight the first half of 2010. Last June, I was 10 pounds LESS than when I met James and about 25 pounds less than I weighed at our wedding. I was probably still 10 pounds over what I was when I was single and actually worked out regularly, but still. It was a Victory. I gained about five pounds over the winter; we went to Ireland and ate a lot, and I was briefly pregnant. In February, I vowed to lose those five pounds again, started doing Zumba, liked it, felt generally hopeful. HOWEVER. I have gained at least six pounds since then. I have been eating my feelings. Which are depressed, and cake and frosting and cookies and brownies all taste so good, when you're depressed. (Pity party!)

Undated, but dating probably to, say, April 2006 - My dad says the only thing worse than having to go to work is not having work to go to. He's right. 

At least there's Patrick. :)

Takes after his mother.

Posted by Molly at 11:56 AM EDT
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