Kittyboy and Housework

I'd already been teaching Kittyboy how to load silverware in the dishwasher, and put it away when it's clean. He also could gather his laundry, and put away his clean clothes (the putting away, sorta kinda).
Well, now he does a lot more. He can gather his laundry and the bathroom laundry in one hamper, and dump that hamper into the washing machine. He can empty the dryer into a basket and bring me the basket. He can sort out his clothing from everything else. He even can SORT OF can fold his own clothing.
I had been thinking to teach him the microwave. It's on his level, and I could tell him a few minutes before getting up to start dinner, "Please put two potatoes in for so many minutes," that kind of thing - then I thought good and hard about how much easier DON'T TOUCH is than "Touch only when/how I tell you to." Now, I've had him stir at the stove before, but the radiating heat is an un-ignorable reminder to take care, and the microwave would appear deceptively safe by comparison, and that could lead to carelessness. He's good at stirring, and careful. And were I to put a pan on the stove for soup, sit at the table chopping ingrediants, and have him on a chair putting what I chop into the pan, I'm still the one setting up, turning on the stove, and he can't reach the burner controls. Letting him add and stir, that doesn't remove a Flat-Out Prohibition on anything. But the microwave.......... A little knowlege could be a disastrous thing. No microwave yet.
But he could sweep, at least spot-sweep with a dust broom. He's learning how to load dishes other that silverware, and a few days ago, insisted that he could put in the soap - "Oh, let me, let me!" as he ran to get the box. I helped. Had he been a puppy, he would have been wagging his tail!
I'm guessing four is an age where being a Big Helper is REALLY fun, and it's not so much "work". That would make this the perfect age to train!
And he's plenty strong enough to haul a full (and full-size) clothes hamper, lift his half-size one over his head to dump in the washer, and carry garbage bags to the front door. May as well use those muscles to the max!

posted from Bloggeroid

An update, after a long absence

So! The-Little-Fetus-That-Could, still IS. 22 weeks and counting. I am resting, resting, resting, and taking my blood pressure, which has been generally above "wonderful" but comfortably below "call the office". What the chances are of "Kittyboy all over again" (28 weeks, HELLP drama) depends on which doctor is looking at me, I think, which is either annoying or amusing, depending on my mood. My regular ob-gyn, Dr. Z, was pretty much happy with the way things were going, the many tests all came back at least acceptable, and apart from one little incident that involved a couple hours of having my BP monitored and a pre-eclamptic panel run on a Saturday afternoon, it all seemed fine. Except, to me, it seemed something, somewhere, somehow, was less than fine. Just little nagging oddities - the stairs at church seemed to put me out of breath, a walk that was normal in the first trimester would leave me exhausted the next day. I wasn't nesting, I was tired. I would sit for a moment and feel my limbs, back, and trunk muscles all give a great sigh of relief, and not after a day of work either. And the incident that sent me to the hospital for blood testing and blood pressure checking was exceedingly weird, sudden hand-swelling, out of the blue, 9 a.m., so that my fingers tingled and hands felt weird to close.
We have a pregnancy helpline through our insurance, and I must say, whatever Husband's employer is paying is worth every penny.
So I had just decided last week that at my next appointment with Dr. Z, I would mention, "So I know the tests have all been fine, but I just think something's not necessarily fine..." It's like when something, somewhere in the kitchen, is juuuuuuuust starting to go, not bad, but "off". All you know is that sometimes, at the sink - or is it closer to the garbage can? - you just get this whiff of something. But the garbage is out, the sink is clean, and then, darn it, just caught another whiff. What the heck? Am I smelling things?.... It was like that.
Then Monday, I had a sono appointment. Not seeing Dr. Z, just checking on Baby. Everything seemed good, tech mentioned she (baby's a she) was a little small, but neither of Baby's parents come from tall families. Then the nurse said "the doctor" would come in and talk with us.
Dr. T, whom we'd not met before, is a high-risk pregnancy doctor. I think she and Dr. Z have to compare notes (haha) because she's not at all convinced all's well. According to HER, the chances of Kittyboy-all-over-again could be 25-50%. She said I would be getting a blood pressure cuff for home. Aye aye, Cap'n T. She asked if I was taking baby aspirin. Um, nope, no one said to, but I will now. I took a big breath and said, "Okay. Blood pressure cuff, baby aspirin. What else, what do we DO?" She paused a second and said, "Well, there's really nothing you CAN do, if it's going to happen."
She did add that modified bed rest might help.

I've since calmed down, reassessed what exactly she SAID, not what my pessimist brain HEARD (which of course was the worst of all possibilities) and taken this as doctor's orders to take my body very, very seriously. I lay down enough throughout the day that when I have been up and lay BACK down, there is no release-of-tension, sigh-of-relief feeling, because if there were, it would mean I should have ALREADY been down. And laying down to that extent has amounted to partial/modified bed rest. I avoid ANYTHING that makes me have to breathe like I've been running, which means very slow on stairs, as few as possible (we live in a one-story house, I only take stairs at church), I sit whenever I'm not doing something (and all through church, basically), and Kittyboy is learning a great many household tasks.
But THAT is a story for another day... Kittyboy doing housework is a post all its own...

posted from Bloggeroid

The Little Embryo That Could

(We think you can! We think you can! We think you can!)

In March of last year, I went for a first sonogram at eight weeks pregnant, and the baby had no heartbeat. Not to be flippant, but a generally unpleasant and distressing experience I really didn't want to repeat. Now, to our joy/disbelief, I'm finally pregnant again.
We got a sonogram at 6.5 weeks this time - juuuussst wanted to see that heartbeat for real, before I got excited. Maybe that's morbid, but, well...
We have a heartbeat! Baby measures six weeks, five days! Heartbeat 114 bpm!
The sucky part is, we have four weeks until our next heartbeat-listening-to. I am going to be counting down the days. Basically, if all our tests come back good (already know my progesterone is right where it should be, that's one concern taken care of), there's really nothing that can be done any differently than before. Assuming no abnormalities with hormone levels or anything else, first trimester miscarriages can still "just happen". We're being calm but vigilant. There's only so much you can do. Although, thanks to my history with Kittyboy, things will get very different about 20 weeks. I don't know the details, but that's what the doctor said. And of course, to contact them if anything is unusual.
Is it me, or is it some kind of cruel joke, to say, "Oh, but don't stress about it! Stress is bad for the baby!" Because while I understand that to be completely true - do I need something ELSE to stress about? So I can stress about not stressing about something stressful, because if I stress about the stressful thing, the stress alone could cause said stressful thing to occur just because I stressed about it?
So! Not stressing - overly much! Holding on tightly, in my head, to my progesterone results! Counting days! Calling it The Little Embryo That Could (thanks to my friend Carey for that lovely and optimistic title!)!
33 days from yesterday, so 32 days to go!
And may Kittyboy's angels watch over his sibling in the meantime.

Homemade yogurt

Last week, I had some milk in the fridge that needed using, so I decided I'd try what I'd been thinking about for a while - making yogurt. I did have plain yogurt in the fridge, and all I knew about yogurt making is that you put a little plain yogurt in, and the milk should just do it all by itself.
But given that there's such a thing as a "yogurt maker", and people talk about using crock pots and heating pads and whatnot, I went looking for directions. The first site I found was http://makeyourownyogurt.com/
I didn't have a big enough double boiler - I didn't have a crock pot - but I did have a thermometer!
I put a quart jar's worth of milk in a pan, heated while stirring constantly, and I mean CONSTANTLY, and took the temp every few minutes. At one point, Kittyboy got himself assigned to stir, while I hunted for a better food thermometer. And he did stand there quite responsibly, never stopped stirring, and at no point did he stick his fingers on the edge of the pan, into the heating milk, or on the burner (all of which he was sternly and repeatedly warned about beforehand). He can be a good helper when he wants.
Finally, after oh, forty-five minutes or so of stirring over a hot stove, it was heated to 180. I put the pan in a sink of cold water and stirred until it was just down to 110, stirred in a good-sized dollop of plain yogurt, and for lack of any means of keeping it warm, just covered the pan and set it back on the stove on the turned-off-but-still-warm burner. I figured, people have made this for centuries without necessarily a means of keeping it evenly and consistently warm - a crock pot or heating pad might make it take only 7 hours, but maybe I could just leave it for longer, like 24?
After eight hours or so, before I went to bed that night, I peeked. Hmmm - smelled like spoiling milk. I figured it was going to be a learning experience and went to bed.
The next morning - creamy white yogurt!! There was no whey to stir back in, the texture was even, it was perfect! It's whiter than store-bought, which I thought was funny, too. It worked great! Next time, I'm going to leave it longer to get thicker. This time, I was just so thrilled to have yogurt that I just jarred it up right then.
So far, I've twice made a bowl of homemade ranch dip for carrots, and used it as a base for beef and noodles. It goes well in place of sour cream, too.
Anyone have any good yogurt recipes to share?

Randomness...

I am loving my new knee braces!! In the last five days, I have dug several two rows of the expansion to my flower garden, planted a rose, put the sod from the expansion in my wheelbarrow, planted more plants, caged the maybe-cucumbers unknown-squash-vines in the big garden, and spread more cardboard in the garden. I even weeded! I had a LONG list of yard projects waiting for these braces to come in. The tomatoes need tying too, though it may be too late - they've grown all funky and weird along the ground.

Kittyboy informed me a few days ago that he had been sitting in his room, reading a book. To himself. I wonder how long it will be before the I Can Read books no longer interest him. He was looking at his globe last week and said, "Rrrrussian. This says Russian!" I said, without looking up, "RussIA. It says Russia." He murmured thoughtfully, "Russia... but there is an N." "What?" Oooops, forgot the age of his globe - Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic. "By golly that does say Russian! Good job!"

We've been using interstate travel to do math. If we're passing exit 264 and we need exit 267, how many miles are we from our exit? That question is best phrased "What is the difference between 4 and 7?" and to my surprise, he gets it right half the time.

Kittyboy had his first dramatic nosebleed today - he came to me with his hand out, asking, "What is this?" Red smeared all over his hand and face. Nothing hurt, so he didn't even know it was blood. I asked if he had hit his head. "No." Hit his nose? "No." Hit, bumped, fallen down in any way? "No." Deep breath. Did he stick anything IN his nose? "No." I ran through the possibilities remaining - the air isn't dry, his sinuses haven't been running... couldn't think of anything else. Hmm. Well, it's been tough to keep him from sticking his fingers in his nose. Had he been scratching inside his nose? "Oh, yes." SIGH. And had the blood started coming out after he was scratching his nose? "Um, yes." Aaaahhhhhh. Well, YAY for not needing a doctor on the FOURTH OF JULY, because up to that point I was out of guesses, and spontaneous nosebleeds for no apparent reason are not generally a good thing. I told him that a) a finger qualifies as "anything", and b) here's another reason to keep your finger OUT OF YOUR NOSE. Delicate tissues, capillaries, etc... the fact that your fingernails are filthy...

We'll be hauling him out of bed about 8:30 tonight to go downtown for fireworks. I'm hoping to coax him into bed about 6, 6:30, which probably means we'll have to skip the nap. Or start the nap at 5, and then he probably would have been awake until after 9 anyway.

Happy Independence Day, everyone!

"Like the sky. But different."

Kittyboy randomly spouted, this morning, "I saw there were angels! They were circling up over my bed. And God was standing next to my bed!"
"........? And when was this?"
"Oh, at night!"
"What night?"
"The night before this morning!"
"...And what did the angels look like?"
"Oh, I don't know! Like angels! They had wings on them!"
"What color were the angels?"
"Oh, I don't know. I think blue. Or green."
"........And what does God look like?"
"Um - I do not know! He is Our God!"
(as opposed to someone else's? huh?)
"He looked like the sky! [could have been 'He looked up like the sky'] But different."
"So God looks like the sky. But different."
"Yes!" Nodding emphatically, driving his car.
"Were you dreaming?"
"Oh yes, I was dreaming about my globe! The one that I found in the gift shop!" (a $400 inlaid stone globe he found at the Sheels gift shop)
"Were you dreaming about God? Or angels?"
"Um, no. God was just standing, next to my bed, and the angels were just circling."

I like the description of God as looking "like the sky, but different." How interesting...

The No-Good, Very Bad Day

It started with Husband being ill with sinuses, and Kittyboy and I scurrying out the door without him, fifteen minutes late to church. As soon as we got there, I sent him to the bathroom, to forestall the five-minutes-in, "I have to go on the toilet!" hassle, since I knew I'd be in front reading. Ten minutes later, "I have to go on the toilet!" We went to the bathroom and then I said we'd just sit in a pew, because it would be disruptive for the both of us to go traipsing back up, and the other two chanters would be more than fine. Kittyboy wasn't happy. He spent the rest of Orthros bugging me about when Sunday School would start, and wanting to lay on the pew and kick his feet. Finally it was 10 and I sent him to Sunday School. One of the benefits, for me, of him being in Sunday School, is that I can sing in the choir. The Sunday School class came in right before the Gospel reading - and Kittyboy started whining for me. And whining. And whining. Finally the teacher let him go up to me in the choir. He wasn't too much happier in the choir - he kept asking me if it was time for Communion, and arguing when I said no. He sat on the floor. He fiddled with the power cord for the organ. He whined that there was no pew. He tried to get under the organ bench. He asked if it was Communion again. He required that I hold a book for him to follow, and sang a little, but then when he wanted to flip pages, I took it away. This did not please him. We had a quiet discussion concerning the fact that I wasn't holding the book for him to play with it, and if he didn't want to follow along, no book. We tried the book again. (By now you've gotten a fair picture of how church went, it was pretty much that)
Finally it was time for Communion! And after that, we went downstairs to discuss, not so quietly, the fact that he cannot be in the choir if he's going to disrupt the choir and prevent me from singing, and if he can't sit with his class, he just won't go to Sunday School, and we will sit in the pew the entire service.
Today was the feast of the Elevation of the Cross, and I had intended to keep Kittyboy downstairs just until the procession and then zip back up just for that. I miscalculated - and Father did the procession before the end of church - and we missed it. I love Soson Kyrie, this is the day we sing that a lot, didn't get to sing it. Not pleased.
When we got home, he was VERY due for a nap. I went to put him in bed, and his sheets were wet. I eyed the humidifier, and sniffed them - NOT wet from the humidifier. He gets out of bed himself in the morning, and he wears a pull-up overnight, so gee, it had not occurred to me to check whether he had completely soaked his bed! I still haven't figured out what happened. All bedding needed to be washed - and his weighted Toy Story blanket was washed just two or three days ago. It takes a while to dry, too. I couldn't believe it. This nap was now going to be delayed by 2-3 hours.
Can't get worse, right?
After this on top of our problems at church, I was Severely Displeased. Then - I carried everything to the laundry room and found the washer full. The dryer was full. What was in the washer was clean and needed drying, so I couldn't toss it back in the hamper. But what was in the dryer, wasn't quite dry. I had to restart the dryer, wait for it to dry, switch out loads, THEN I could start the load on which hinged the very fate of the world, or at least of my afternoon.
Kittyboy started saying he was hungry. He had a bunch of fruit and sweet breads at coffee hour, but being still awake, he was hungry again. This was when I discovered that the rice and vegetables he'd had for breakfast - because they were from dinner last night - which he still hadn't finished for breakfast because we were running late - were still sitting out on the table, four hours later. We'd been in such a rush this morning, I'd not put them away. Well, they were garbage now. Gave him a bunch of grapes. Seriously, he ate a LOT at coffee hour, and he usually has a bird's appetite. I've never fixed lunch after church. He spent the laundry time being, well, tired four-year-old in need of nap. Fun times. Whining, "I want to boouuunce!" I put down his trampoline - in the hallway, because his room's a disaster and I was folding laundry in the front room and the hallway was where I had room. "But I want it in theeerrrree!" My response was less than gracious. Emptied the dryer as soon as the washer stopped, tossed the still-wet things on a table, put The Load of Loads in the dryer. 3:30 in the afternoon, I was finally making Kittyboy's bed. Got it made despite his "help", got him in it, then had to take off and put back on his covers. They were in the wrong order. Not kidding. FINALLY tucked him in to his exacting standards, and I turned on his music.
"Oh, but IIIII wanted to start it!"
Are you kidding me?
Fine. Whatever. I was done. I told him to start the music himself if that was what he wanted, and tuck himself back in. Couple minutes later, crying that it wouldn't play - I went back in. He'd pressed the play button twice, pausing it. I started it for him. I tucked him back in.
Then he began to say that he was still hungry.
I wanted to scream. Husband was up. I gave him a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and charge of the Kittyboy, because I was VERY MUCH DONE.
And I did the mature, grown-up, mommy thing of hiding in my bedroom.
After his nap, Kittyboy came looking for me. He came in the room, flung his arms wide, and declared, "Mommy, I like you a lot!"
Aww. I told him I loved him, and asked why he'd come looking for me. "I am happy to have you!" That translates, "I want you to be with me!" Awww! I asked him, "Even when I'm cranky and grumpy and yell a whole lot?" And he climbed up in my lap and said quite sincerely, "Yes! When you yell, God forgives you!"
Aaawwww! I take that to mean we're friends again!

posted from Bloggeroid

Homecoming Anniversary

We were at the doctor's this morning, just checking on the seasonal sinuses, and Kittyboy wanted me to read him his wristband. He is learning to read, and wants to know what everything says. I saw the date, 3-23, and told him that FOUR YEARS AGO TODAY, he came home from the hospital!
It was a Friday, the 5th Friday of Lent that year. I know that because that night, he was churched after the 5th Akathist service. Between the hospital and home, we stopped at Target, because there was something the nursery still needed - I want to say it was a lamp. I didn't know what to do with a baby in car seat and a shopping cart, and didn't know that car seats fit onto carts, so Husband pushed the cart and I carried Kittyboy in my arms. When we got home, my first phone call after the initial "HE'S HOME! HE'S REALLY HERE!" flurry of calls was to my mother - "Um, Mommy? How do you go to the bathroom with a baby?" And I was shocked when she said, "Oh, you just take him in with you!" But Mother! He's a boy! "Yes dear, but he's a baby. It really doesn't matter!" The second "What do we do...?" question was to NICU the very next morning - "And WHY is it that we are setting an alarm all night and waking a sleeping baby for feeding?" "Oh, because preemies don't always wake when they're hungry." Ah. O...kay.
And it was so weird to have him be really all ours.
He went to church that night, that Sunday, the next week which was Palm Sunday, and we were thinking what we should do about Holy Week and the deluge of services. We'd always gone to all of them before. We decided to take him Palm Sunday evening, Monday through Wednesday, and then start keeping him home Thursday when the crowds start. By Wednesday, we realized that nowhere was he calmer and more quietly content than in church. We continued taking him to all the services, all Holy Week, and he was perfectly happy.

posted from Bloggeroid

The Virtue of Practice

Yesterday was lovely, in the 70s, and the Kittyboy and I went outside. The neighbor boy was out on his bicycle - the boy who's six months younger but about two sizes bigger. It's been fascinating watching him and Kittyboy develop, because since KB was three months early, they're essentially three months apart, and each has done things earlier than the other. I remember being flabbergasted at "Bobby" kicking a ball up and down the street, when Kittyboy was just getting really good at walking. Bobby was big, sturdy, and RUNNING. But when he was running after the sorta-jogging Kittyboy that summer, and the first went up and over a log easily, Bobby put one foot on the log, stopped, and looked at me. He needed a hand for balance.
Bobby potty-trained first. Kittyboy spoke more clearly, and drank from an open cup while Bobby was still fighting to keep his bottle. It's just so cool to watch, who will do what next?
So Bobby rides a little bike with training wheels (and was riding a tricycle last year). It stands to reason, like walking, running, and kicking a ball, it's one of those gross-motor things Bobby does well and with gusto. This spring is the first that Kittyboy's been able to reach the pedals on his tricycle, and he's tried out the pedaling process, but it's all new, and it's all WORK, so mostly he pushes the tricycle around himself.
Well, yesterday he was watching Bobby on that bicycle. Been trying to pedal the trike, but not really getting anywhere. I explained that Bobby's just a little bigger, he has longer legs, and so he's been pedaling since last year. Kittyboy's face drooped, and he said, "And I'm still widdle - wight?"
Ooooohhhhh! My poor baby! So sad!
I told him NO, he is exactly the size he is supposed to be, and everyone grows and develops at their own speeds, and a goodly part of it is practice, too - Bobby's been pedaling since a year ago, and the more you do something, the better you get at it, and the easier it is. That's how it works.
So Kittyboy watched a little more, and then he got back on his tricycle. And he pushed, and he grunted, and he pushed, and he made it the length of the driveway. And I cheered! And I told him that's practice, it just takes work! He got off and turned it around, and went back the other way. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And he was getting up some speed the last couple times! Great progress for one afternoon - he just needed the motivation to keep at it for more than five minutes!
And since he's getting the pedaling motion down, Husband is going to put air in the tires of the tiny little bike with training wheels that has been waiting for a certain little boy to learn how to pedal it. It's his size, but he had to figure out pedaling before it'd be of any use. It should be a little easier, since he can push with all his weight over the pedals instead of having the pedals way out in front of him.
Yay for learning the virtue of practice!

posted from Bloggeroid

Someone told my garden it's Spring...

posted from Bloggeroid

The Wonderful World of E-readers

Husband surprised me yesterday with something I'd been thinking wistfully might be useful - an e-reader, specifically a Nook. I danced around squealing with excitement as he found church services online, put them in pdf format, and loaded them on, and he said, "I must have made your week - or month..." I said, "No, you made my LENT!!"
I have the complete Orthodox Study Bible. I have the Akathist service, in the translation I like, of which Father never has enough copies. Husband found the Hapgood text - the weekday festal services, such as Christmas Eve, New Year's, Theophany, and St. John the Baptist (just to randomly highlight the busiest two-week period of the year). I'm going to have him find text for the Holy Week services, so instead of a thick book in two hands, I can hold the Nook in one and corral a Kittyboy with the other. He has seriously made my Lent.
One advantage a book will ALWAYS have over an e-reader, however, is the ability to say, "It's around here somewhere," and flip through turning a chunk of pages at a time. As I get more comfortable with the mechanics of using it, though, there IS a function that lets you jump to any page of the book, so at some point, I'll be picturing the physical book and think, "Okay, jump fifty pages from here," and it'll be a very similar process with similar results. It will take practice, though.
I could even copy and paste a series of hymns and prayers into a text file, have Husband convert it to pdf, and put it on there. This is really pretty darn awesome!
Thank you, Dear!

posted from Bloggeroid

A long walk and talk...

We walked to Salvation Army today, and next time we will be taking garbage bags. I think it must be a whole winter's worth of trash having been exposed by the vanished snow, because I do NOT remember the yards and bike trail being so... dump-looking. Bags and hand sanitizer going in my purse next week.
Kittyboy ate a tootsie roll, put the wrapper in his pocket like a good boy, then half a block later as he put acorns in that pocket, he discarded the wrapper in the grass! I about stopped breathing! He'd certainly NEVER seen myself, Husband, or any friends ever throw any trash on the ground! But then again, our surroundings DID suggest that was perfectly fine...
"The earth is the Lord's, and all its fullness, the world and those who dwell therein." Ps. 24:1
So we picked up the tootsie roll wrapper, discussed that verse, how disrespectful it would be of someone to come throw garbage all around our house, and that if the earth is the Lord's, then we shouldn't throw garbage around it either. And it just looks bad. I told him we'd bring bags the next time we walked.
At some point I used the term biodegradeable, and explained that it means "will turn to dirt". Somehow, from there, we got to dead animals - I think from me saying that dead organic matter was biodegradeable and explaining then what that was, plants, bugs, animals, whatever. So I think he asked about things turning into dirt, so I told him bugs and bacteria break things down, and there are animals and birds that also eat carrion. My little Munster was fascinated. (My brain kept asking, independent of my mouth, how we had gotten from cleaning up trash to discussing decomp and vultures?)
Then he picked up a brown leaf, we talked about chlorophyll, and how it keeps the leaves green and stops in fall. And that leaves also turn into dirt eventually. And dirt is what plants grow in, and animals eat the grass, and the carbon cycle. We'd read about the carbon cycle in his aunt's college ecology textbook.
I think that can be school for the day. Sound about right?

posted from Bloggeroid

Lovely Valentine's Day!

The Kittyboy and I had a lovely day! Husband and I did Valentine's last night, and today, we babysat a precious little one-month-old boy for friends so they could have a luncheon date. Kittyboy now REALLY needs a sibling!
He gave Baby Mikey multiple drum recitals, occasionally using a maraca as a drumstick, taught Mikey how to play drums, shake a maraca, and pet Magic Cat (who was thrilled at having another baby around!), and played peekaboo until he was blue in the face. He fetched bottles from the fridge, put them back in the fridge, got things from the diaper bag, and showed great Big Brother instinct when Mikey was fussing because his bottle was still warming - ''Stop!... stop crying!... stop crying!... stop crying!'' He also learned that babies don't stop crying on his say-so.
We even had our first leeettle bit of jealousy - little bit. I was reading books to them, with Mikey on my lap, and Kittyboy asked after about the third book - ''I think you can read one to just me now?'' I think having a baby took more of his mommy than he anticipated!
But the benefits of having a baby friend around must have FAR outweighed having to share his mommy, because after Mikey went home, Kittyboy was sad! He held out his hands with a sorrowful look, and wailed, ''But I wanted to borrow him more!!'' I promised him we would do it again! He is tucked in bed with his own Baby (doll), and we will have to plan our next playdate!

posted from Bloggeroid

second try

Okay, I like how Bloggeroid worked, but the way it told me to do bold and italic didn't work. Blogger-droid doesn't have any instructions with it, so trying basic HTML I remember from college...
bold italic

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Trying out second app

<b>bold</b>
<i>italic</i>
Trying out second app for blogging (Bloggeroid). Assuming the HTML does make the above words bold and italic, I may prefer this to Android Blogger.

Testing, 1 2 3 ...

Trying out Blogger-droid, an Android blogging program. Husband has me test-driving an older-model Android phone, in search of the perfect PDA, because if we ever get internet at our house, I will ditch the data plan for a basic bar phone again, but still be addicted to all the PDA functions, and Husband the droid nut thinks this is the one for me. So far, the HTC Dream and I are getting along tolerably well, just trying out the blogging apps...

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