Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Bye, Bye Bat

Last night around 9:30, Adrian finally located Senor Bat, wedged into a hollow area of the closet door. Animal Control came, extracted the bat, and carried it in a heavily gloved hand squeeking and chirping out into the night. Alastair slept through the whole thing.

Awesome.

Lately, I've been pondering the number of things, particularly in the fashion world today, that I don't understand at all. Here's my current (and growing) list:

1. Those Crocs shoes. Aren't those garden shoes? How are clogs full of holes comfortable? Plastic shoes just make my feet sweat.

2. Gauchos. Nobody looks good in them. Period. I hate the identity ambivalence of gauchos. Skirt-pants-capris-clamdiggers. Plus, most gauchos are made of a drappy knit fabic that clings in a most unflattering fashion.

3. Skinny jeans. Anyone who suffered through adolecence in the 80's should remember that only really skinny people look good in skinny jeans. The rest of us just look like denim-encased sausages.

4. High-heeled pumps worn with jeans. Whitesnake video, anyone?

5. The return of slouchy knit clothing. Like tunics worn with big-ass belts. I'm sure it's all very comfy, but it looks so Derelique.

6. Leggings. Dear God, we have returned to 1988. What's next? Stirrup pants? I shudder at the thought.

I could go on and on. Just wait until I make my next venture to the mall or CaryTown to gawk at the teenyboppers and hipsters.

Lord, I am getting so old.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

There's a bat in my house

No shit, peoples. As I type, there is a bat confined to our computer room. He woke us up with his batty chattering about 4 a.m. this morning. The cats, especially Lucy, were thrilled that we had brought in a real live toy for them to play with. We are pretty sure at some point in the night that the bat was flying about in Little A's room. Hopefully, animal control will be able to come out today and extract the bat with little incident and minimal breakage. I am thankful that the bat wound up in the computer room and not our bedroom.

What concerns me is how the little fellow got into our house in the first place. Are there more to come. Shudder. I hope not.

This being our second bat-related incident (A colony took nest in theattic of our old house.) I am now convinced that I must have vampire blood in me or something. The bats seem to be attracted to me. Or Adrian. Or both of us.

This weekend Alastair had his first fever; at its highest, it was 102. It was pretty terrifying. The ordeal seemed to bother mom and dad more than Alastair. He was perfectly content, aside from a little lethargy. The dreaded rectal temperature-taking didn't phase him either. He was just pleased as punch to be nekkid. Luckily, the fever only lasted overnight and he was back to his chipper little self Saturday afternoon.

As a result of the fever, Adrian and I were forced to cross a new milestone-sleep without swaddle. The thought of wrapping up an already overwarm baby seemed ill-advised. So we crossed our fingers, zipped him up in his sleep sack, and put him to bed. He slept like a log. That was Friday night and we've been forging ahead with no swaddles. So far, so good. But for two mornings in a row there've been big old diaper disastrophes. Ah well, trade one thing for another, I guess.

Man, I hope that bat is gone by the time I get home.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Cause and Effect

Last week was Little A's first week of full-time daycare (aka Baby Work). Coincidentally he also caught his first cold. Proving the theoritcal equation of Daycare+ Baby= Illness. Poor little guy. For the past four days, we've been armed with the aspirator, suctioning mucous out of his nose. Some times he doesn't mind, like it's a game; other times he howls in aggravation. Indicative of his generous nature, he was also kind enough to share his germs with Adrian and me. We both came down with the sniffles. The family that gets sick together...

Adrian was kind enough to stay home with Alastair yesterday so that our little man could get some rest and help his little body repair. I think it might have helped; this morning he was more animated and vocal than he's been in a while. He's still pretty snotty and coughy, but hopefully he's on the mend. I feel so helpless when he's sick. All I can do is pray, suck snot out of his nose, and hope for the best.

We've also been crossing a few developmental milestones with Little A. He's been working really hard on sitting on his own. Right now he crumples up into a modified tripod that lasts all of about 10 seconds at a time. But he's working on it. Adrian and I try to prop him up with pillows and such as many opportunities as we can. I can tell he's much happier seeing the world from a seated position than lying on his back.

This weekend was The Wedding. It's funny how much a wedding resembles a stage production. There's the cast, an audience, the musicians, set decoration, programs, costumes, a stage manager. There's normally a script of some sort. We rehearse and have a post-production photo call. Then there is the chaos of opening night (which also happens to be the sole performance). I think the only real difference between a stage show and a wedding is that only in a wedding is the director also one of the lead actors.

The ceremony was quite lovely, and everything went off with little or no major hitches. (Which in a weird way is a little disappointing because I was hoping for a classic AFV moment. Hey, you can make some serious cash off of the documentation of human suffering and humiliation! Still think I should have pulled the groom's ring from the bodice of my dress.)


Honestly, I don't think I've seen Jeff and Evelyn happier than they were in those moments at the front of the sanctuary, professing their love and devotion to one another. Except of course when Evelyn got all choked up on her vows, but let's all assume that was because of anoverwhelming joy. It wasn't until yesterday afternoon while driving home from work that it hit me: Jeff and Evelyn are married. They are now officially The Cronins. Far out.

Goodbye Elliott. You had a great run and made fans out of almost an entire city. If Idol were about raw talent alone, you would have been the sure-fire winner. No matter what path you take in your hopefully sucessful music career, may you retain your honesty, sensitivity, and humility that endeared you to all of us.

I have now lost all interest in Idol since the options have been whittled down to the Drunk Epileptic Wedding Singer and Queen Plastic the Over-Singer. I just wish I had gotten tickets to the show in July. I had no idea they would sell out in 15 minutes! Go Elliott; Richmond still loves ya!

Monday, May 15, 2006

Oh really?

The other day I was driving down Staples Mill Road when I spotted a license plate reading "2QT2BST8". Intrigued, I pulled up beside the car at a stoplight to take a gander at the chick driving.

Yeah...No. Speaking for all straight people, I'd say we aren't too saddened by the loss.

A few days later, I saw a bumper sticker that read "God is a Race Fan". Huh. Who'da thunk?

Since my last post, literally eons ago, there've been a few occurrences in my life to note:


  • Little A has now moved into his crib and is sleeping in his own room. We've had over a week's worth of (mostly) uninterrupted sleep. The past few nights, however, he's decided that 2 a.m. is a good time to be wide awake and wants everyone in the house to join him in this endeavor.
  • There were two "firsts" for Little A: First party-a cookout in honor of Jeff and Evelyn's impending nuptials. First trip- to Williamsburg where he finally got to meet Shana and Chad. He had a blast at both. As we like to say, that boy loves an audience.
  • Last weekend along with Chris H and Adrian, I ran in the Race for the Cure 5k. I definitely struggled a lot more this year versus last, and I guarantee I did not finish with as good a time. There were a ton of idiotic walkers up at the start line with us; dodging and evading them for about the first 1/4 mile burned up a ton of my energy. It was hard to find my running stride after that. But despite my slowness, I finished the race without stopping and without falling down, two of my general goals when running.
  • As of today, I am back on a full time schedule which also means that Little A is in full-time daycare. I am trying not to think too much on the later statement because it fills me with worry and sadness. This change in my life also means frequent trips to the mother's room for pumping. Just call me Bessie.

Those are the biggies.

Looking ahead there's:

  • The Wedding. We are still trying to figure out logistically how to coordinate our baby's care. We are going back and forth on whether or not he should join us at the church and/or reception. Either way, I don't want my in-laws saddled with him for too long, nor do I expect them to execute our rather elaborate bedtime ritual. Such are the quandaries that new parent's face. Plus, sometime between now and then I need to paint my toenails.
  • My grandmother is hopefully moving to Richmond in about a month. For the first time in my life I won't have to drive 7+ hours to visit with her. On the flip side, as Adrian pointed out, Alastair will probably never get to visit Grundy. At least not for a long time.
  • In June, we are hoping to take Alastair to Irvington and on his first overnight trip. The notion excites and scares me. I only hope that between now and then we can wean him off being fully swaddled to go to sleep. But I can't wait to lounge in the swing with my boy, feeling the breeze on our face and watching life slowly pass by the front porch.

Of course, the most exciting update is... GO ELLIOTT!! Our boy has made it to the top three, propelled by an awesome performance on Elvis night. Let's hope he can maintain that momentum and boot The Queen of Vocal histrionics, Katherine. I hear that if Elliott makes the final two, a giant viewing party might be organized at the Coliseum. Sweet. It's just pretty darn thrilling that despite his humble attitude and less-than-model-perfect looks, Elliott has managed to stay in the competition. GO ELLIOTT!

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