Latest development

Hudson, walking awkwardly after quite a rumble down under...

Mommy: "Did you go potty?"

Shakes head yes and grins.

Mommy: "Should we change your diaper?"

Shakes head no and grins wider, runs off.


Oh.stinkin.no. This means potty training is drawing evermore near.
*runs off*

A relaxing gourmet meal at the grandparents' with a fine young chap

...such manners and grace.

Not hereditary.

I didn't make this stuff up...

This, no lie, arrived in my Facebook mailbox the other day. She shall remain nameless, but the perfect combination of nice things + greater relief of mom-guilt is the bomb.com.


"Every once in a while when I am bored I read your blog because it is very entertaining and I like the tips you give on saving the environment. In fact, I am convinced (thanks to you) that if I ever have a child, I am going to use cloth diapers! Anyhow, I saw your new blog about the frozen dinner and I wanted to tell you, my father-in-law runs the plant where they produce the trays for those meals, and it's only a forty minute drive from Iowa, AND HE MAKES EVERYONE THERE AT THE PLANT RECYCLE! And they have switched to green cleaning products! So don't feel so bad!! I just wanted to throw in my two cents! Hope you and Hudson are doing well!"


Ahh, it feels so good.

Thanks a ton girlie!!

Local Cuisine

I hate the stereotype, but let's face it. I'm the stereotypical hippie/eco/blogging mom. In a very attractive package, I must say.
Ahem.

However, since I've moved back with the less hippie/eco/blogging grandparents, I have become lax in my ways in a variety of areas. Will you believe that I haven't recycled a single thing since mid-June? Okay, that's definitely not true, but it's pretty close. There isn't a designated recycling bin here. No joke. My blood pressure is surely at least a gazillion points higher with that fact alone.

I pride myself on sourcing local food for the Hud-man and myself. Organic, when possible, but according to my years of research local trumps organic by a sheer smidge. Food systems are an important issue, mmkay? (Here is where you nod in agreement.) Our fridge and cabinets are normally stocked with items such as this:


locally produced milk.

Anyhoo, this whole new, full-time big girl job thing I have complained about mentioned? Yeah, it has put a major crimp in my hippie mom ways. The local farmers market is Mondays from 4-6. Do you know what time I return to our handsome villa from aforementioned life sucking employment job? Yep, 6 p.m. We have been void of actual fresh produce for like, three weeks now. THREE WEEKS.

Excuse me. I get a little excited about these things.

But you know what? I recently did this one thing that makes me especially not so proud about my saving-the-world efforts. I purchased this


with the full intention of feeding it to my oh-so-adorable and pesticide-free toddler. In fact, I purchased FOUR since they were on sale.
Sobsobsobsobsob. OHHH the MOM GUILT!

Oh right--I'm still going to feed them to him. Why, you ask? Why would I even dare to microwave pesticide and hormone-laden, mechanically-separated meat and genetically-mutilated, flavorless, nutrient-deficient excuses for vegetables in addition to an obesity-causing, high fructose corn syrup-filled dessert in an endocrine-disrupting and environment-flushing plastic tray? Cuz I feel like it, that's why.

Or more accurately, I don't feel like it. I'm giving myself a tiny break from the extra stressors of chemical-reduced living in order to adjust to my new schedule and decreased lounging time. The last thing I want to do when I get home from my zombifying commute is chop veggies and wait for water to boil.
I'm not saying it's Swanson and Banquet from here on out, but the thought of a quick meal from the freezer won't send me into hyperventilation.

I have, however, found one uplifting aspect of this whole Kid Cuisine mini-ordeal: I have a friend in Missouri who used to work in a factory that stamped those (endocrine-disrupting) plastic trays. Which meeaaaannnns:

LOCAL FOOD!

Question my logic, I dare ya.

Hectic Relief

I suffered through my first week at the new job. Okay, that was a bit dramatic, there was very little suffering involved. And to be truthful, I don't hate it nearly as much as I had anticipated. Your co-workers really do make a difference. I went in with the mindset that this was not at all what I wanted to be doing and it was just a waste of my talents...and it still probably is, but it is a tolerable waste that is absolutely necessary, financially.

I started with a few other recent college grads, all with bachelors degrees in unrelated fields--take health/fitness and international relations for example. There is even a young single mom in the group. It's amazing how much relief you feel when you realize that others are in the same boat and can relate to your shattered dreams.

Again with the overdramatic statements. You're welcome.

Starting a new job isn't all decorating-your-cubicle and having-a-new-title. Its surely harder than it looks or harder than people remember. Or something like that. For one, just finding the right parking spot and the right door is discombobulating. Then you have to mess with security (or be messed with by security) and figure out how to operate the doors. These suckers can spit you back out if they so choose. For real.

Then there's the name and clique learning, who to fear, and who to befriend. Where are the bathrooms? And why are there showers?

Oh, and then there's a whole new connnfusing computer program and procedure. Y'know, that whole "training" part of a new job. Whatev.

But by far the hardest part is leaving Hudson at daycare everyday, all day. Where is the time I had to just sit and watch him get into stuff? Our cuddle time has been drastically reduced, thanks to my crack-o-dawn schedule. Like his mom, he doesn't take kindly to being woken up. However, he has BEATEN ME UP almost every morning, in both senses of the phrase. He is definitely getting rowdier by the day. I admit to crying a couple times after leaving daycare in the morning--it is heartwrenching to have a childcare worker pry your screaming toddler from your arms so that you can be 60 miles away on a computer all day.

All this, and guess what--thank GOODNESS I have a job. Many aren't so lucky. The job search is so discouraging, I'm just thrilled to have been chosen for something. I don't think my self esteem could have taken much more. I rock.