Oh how I want this book!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11042370/

ELLENSBURG, Wash. - A character in some copies of an Elmo potty training book has an unusual message that you may not want your toddler to hear. Images | Video

The Baby David character in "Potty Time With Elmo" says, "Uh oh, who wants to die?" when a read-along button is pushed, NBC News reported.

He's supposed to say, "Uh oh, who has to go?"

The publisher said the sound was recorded correctly, but some consumers hear a different phrase due to compression of the digital audio file.

Crystal Gillum, of Ellensburg, Wash., said she bought the book for her 2-year-old daughter for Christmas. "It really bothered me, and it creeped me out," she said.

The publisher, Publications International, doesn't know how many defective books are out there. Customers can return the books to the store where they were purchased, or they can call (800) 595-8484 for a free replacement.

The book is becoming a collector's item, and is being sold on eBay.

This is my belly at 34 1/2 weeks (jan. 8). It's not as big as many people think it should be, but it feels huge to me. I've already grown out of the clothes I wore to the hospital to deliver Margaret 

the home stretch

So today is officially 2 weeks from my due date (3 weeks from the midwife's interpretation of my due date). So I'm taking a break from packing my hospital bag to a) look up some ideas of what the heck to put in there and b) do something else. Margaret has been asleep for 3 hours, so I keep expecting her to wake up any second now, so while I should be doing something productive, I'm not.

Wes has strep throat, so now I'm paranoid that we'll all get it. Just what I need: a sick toddler staying home from school just as I'm preparing for labor that could come any time. Plus if I get sick, I'm less likely to complete even one project. I guess it's a perfect ending to the 3rd trimester of sick.

I did paint the first coat of yellow on the 2 main walls of our bedroom yesterday. Naturally, it took me longer to clean the paintstick and brush than it did to actually paint anything. That's the nature of painting, I suppose. When I was pregnant with Margaret, I wouldn't paint or do anything with chemical whatever, but now I guess I'm over that. I hope this second baby doesn't mind being less brilliant than his/her older sister. Sorry kid. I hope your brain is still operational after all the crap I've eaten and the paint I've inhaled.

For your amusement, here is a brief list of things I'd like to get done this week:
finalize birth plan (no problem...the doula is visiting tomorrow so she can assist here)
start on taxes (I'd really like for that refund check to show up around the same time as the hospital bill)
figure out a plan for Margaret for when I go into labor (something more specific than 'stay with grandparents')
finish painting our bedroom
finish painting the hallway
move the bookcase out of the room that should already be Margaret's but isn't (obviously, this will require muscles I don't have, so it will have to wait until Wes is better)
buy a gift for the 2-year-old birthday party we're going to on Saturday

I actually think I can do all this by Sunday, which means either that I'm insane and deluded or that I'm nesting and have had too much caffeine today. Take your pick.

crisis of faith?

Margaret has been going to Sunday School. We go to a Lutheran church, although I am ambivalent about the particular beliefs of Christianity. I tend to consider church a good place for social interaction and service. Plus, I think it's useful for children to have a basic knowledge of some religion as a jumping off point for their own spiritual beliefs later on.

I was raised Catholic and therefore not encouraged to read the bible (or is it Bible) or memorize biblical stories. So when Margaret comes out of Sunday School yesterday talking about some boy named Ikea who stole the money and made everyone sad, I had no idea what she was talking about. To add to the confusion, she was carrying a picture of a fireman she had colored, and another of her classmates was carrying a picture of what seemed to be a Mexican man in a sombrero. Wes and I discuss it, but can't seem to figure out what the lesson was. Note to self...talk to her teachers next week.

So at dinner, Wes' parents were visiting, and they seem to recognize this story of Zacchaeus. Apparently, there is also a song. Who knew? So M is vindicated in her memory of this story, which I of course find impressive.

Later, thanks to my foolish choice earlier in the day to let Margaret wear shoes with no socks to church, she has a blister on her foot. I draw her bath, putting Johnson's soothing vapor baby bath in the tub for bubbles (it's what we have...believe it or not, it was a gift from one of the baby showers I had for Margaret and I'm STILL going through the many soaps and lotions I got then). BIG mistake. Apparently, the vapor bath is extraordinarily painful on wounds, which I guess I should have guessed, but I'd forgotten about the blister. And she started screaming when she got into the tub. Yes, the foot was hurting, bad.

Very little would comfort her, but I rinsed her with clean, cool water, then Wes held her while I found some antibacterial cream and a band-aid. While this was going on, Margaret wails, "I thought Jesus loved me!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but there it was. We assured her (stifling laughter) that Jesus did indeed love her, and moved on. How do you acknowledge such a crisis of faith in a 2-year-old? I don't know loads about Jesus, but he isn't the sort to make toddlers miserable. Misery just happens. It's life. I'm sure there are some who would point to my lack of faith as the cause of her misery, but really it was just my lack of considering what the baby bath would do to a blister. I wasn't laughing at her pain, but I guess at her conclusion that her pain was due to a lack of Jesus' love.

I've decided I should learn the words to that Jesus Loves Me song that Margaret loves to sing. I suppose it's the least I can do to support her journey of faith. I'd hate for her search to end so young, just because I can't be trusted to buy gentle baby bath.

OK, I'm officially changing my mind about pregnancy. I actually am enjoying this one. Now that I'm not so tired, and have no particular food aversions, it's been all good. Of course, now I'm almost finished. Sure, there are definitely some uncomfortable things: swollen ankles, stuffy nose, frequent contractions, baby rolling around and keeping me awake, peeing when I sneeze (yeah, that one does stink), but in general, I'm enjoying it, even though I hated it last time. I love that Margaret wants to talk to the baby every day and give my belly kisses. I love the introspective mood I've been in for a few months. The last time, I viewed the pregnancy as a very clinical experience, and I read everything I could about the mechanics, etc. of it. This time, I seem to view it as a spiritual / emotional experience, and I'm a little sad that it might be the last time I do it. I don't necessarily want to get pregnant again just to be pregnant (because 9 months is a different time frame than the real 20+ years it takes to raise a child), but it has been very pleasant. Wes seems to think that every time I groan that I'm expressing my misery, but the truth is that when I bend in any direction, air escapes from my lungs because my diaphragm is compressed beyond belief. I groan because I breathe. Sure, I'm a little uncomfortable, but not unhappy about it. I don't really know how else to express it. He doesn't really get it, but that's ok.

Yesterday I got a ton of contractions...I think it was the baby settling down into my pelvis, because he/she moved all. day. long. Usually, the big movement is more contained to certain times of day, and the smaller kicks and hiccups are less dramatic, but all day yesterday I felt rolling, kicking, etc. and my uterus contracted a lot. I never really suspected it was labor, mostly because it wasn't particularly regular, but it was frequent. It was even kinda fun since it was more contractions than I ever had with Margaret. This morning at the midwife, she told me the baby's head was firmly in my pelvis (not transverse, not head up, nor any of the other wacky positions this baby has been in over the last month). I'm also pretty sure it's relatively anterior, since most of the kicks I get are way back on my right side. So she recommended doing squats daily, which I've been avoiding until the baby was in a good position. woo hoo!! now as long as the baby stays anterior, all will be right with the world. My midwife also mentioned that she recommended an herbal supplement (5W) with most of her VBACs since we can't be induced and none of the docs want us to go late, but she said that since I've been having lots of contractions already, and the herbs would give me more of them, that it didn't seem necessary unless I wanted to try it. I really don't want to have this baby 3 weeks early, so I'll hold off. Maybe the week of my due date, I'll give it a try.

Tons to do in the meantime: paint the bedroom and hallway, get some more stuff out of the guest room and into our new closets, get more shelves from Ikea to hold said stuff from the guest room, etc.

On Tuesday I had some professional photos taken of my giant belly. OK, it's not giant to anyone but me, but boy does it feel giant. One of my neighbors is a professional photographer, and she did them. The polaroids look great, so I'm looking forward to seeing the real thing. All black and white. It's too bad I couldn't get my hair cut before I went, but in general my hair looked fine. I am getting it cut on Friday, and I'm tempted to dye it with pink highlights before I deliver. It might be nice to have some rock and roll post-partum pics. Of course, if I add one more thing to my to do list, I'm sure this baby will come next week just to spite me, so maybe I'll just reserve that one for "things i'll do if I get bored waiting for the baby."

Microsoft does suck

I'll play. I'm happy to let this woman rant against the evil corporate giant on my blog, too.
http://www.communicatrix.com/blog/2006/01/color_me_open_s.html

Lazy Sunday

Yes, the rest of the world already saw this, but it cracks us up on a daily basis. I know it wouldn't be so funny if it didn't look so familiar.
http://gorillamask.net/snlnarnia.shtml

5 Weirdest Habits

Donna tagged me for this some time ago, but I've been a bit behind on keeping up with other people lately, so here are my 5 weirdest habits (such as they are).

1. I peel off my cuticles. I don't know why. If you know me, you know how much time I spend looking at my fingers.

2. I refuse to sleep with the electric mattress pad on. I turn it on before I get into bed to make the sheets all cozy, and I'll sit there reading a magazine, but the second I get ready to go to sleep, I turn it off. I just don't feel right with all that electricity under me (and I guess the baby). Paranoid much?

3. I have to have a coke with my junk food. It would be better if I could somewhat reduce the caloric impact of the junk food by drinking some water, but it's a no go. So pizza, fast food, boxed mac and cheese, nachos and other salty junk must be accompanied by a high fructose corn syrup-infested cola. Yeah, I should give them all up, but mmmm....

4. I have to eat hot food for my meals. OK, when I am at work, I have been known to eat a tuna sandwich, but I prefer hot food. I also must eat my hot food before my salad. This obviously doesn't work at restaurants, but it's what I do at home.

5. I have a small obsession with the hairs on my chin. They must be plucked daily. My eyebrows can apparently go to hell, since I do nothing to them, but the chin hairs mock me.

Holidays

I guess the holidays are over, and I thought the month of illness we all seemed to get in December was finished too. However, Margaret went back to school on Thursday only to come home with a low-grade fever. By last night she had a fever of 103 and bad chills. I actually took her to the doctor this morning, not because her symptoms were particularly scary, but because she just keeps. getting. sick. She had complained that her ears hurt, so I thought that maybe she's been fighting an ear infection this whole time and that's why she was getting sick over and over. Nope. Ears are clear. Chest is clear. She just has yet another cold. I swear I am NOT going to get sick this time. I just cannot be sick for 3 weeks again, when I'm only 5-6 weeks away from my due date. I have too much to do, and I can't enjoy my dwindling free time if I'm stuck on the couch with a box of tissues. My midwife says she can count on one hand the number of times she's seen a woman in labor coughing or sneezing and she thinks there is some sort of protective immune thing going on late in pregnancy to prevent it. I swear it had better kick in right now. Seriously.

Otherwise, the holidays were good. My mom and brother came to see us on the weekend before Christmas and my brother took us out for dinner (well, we went and picked it up since sick Margaret wasn't really up for a restaurant visit). Of course, after heading home, they were all sick, which I felt bad about. My brother complained that my mom hadn't warned him we were all sick, otherwise he might have stayed away. I think he ended up being sick for actual Christmas day, when he and his wife were taking a trip together. I feel bad!

Christmas weekend found our little family feeling a little better, although still coughing the cough that wouldn't die. Santa brought Margaret a cd player and cds. Naturally, I didn't let her have the originals of the cds, otherwise they would be scratched and ruined immediately. I made copies and labeled them with pictures that she could use to identify them. So far, she seems more interested in making me put the cds into the player, and she prefers to walk around sorting the cds, which I'm sure will end up with them being scratched, but I still have the originals to make more copies.

Wes put a swing in the back yard for M for christmas. She loooves it. It was a truly great gift. It was wild watching Wes concoct a tool to string the rope up over the tree limbs that must be over 20 feet in the air. But he did it, and it is amazing. In between swinging, she still wants to pick up pecans from the tree, and she won't seem to be satisfied that the pecans are already all picked up. Pecan season is pretty much over, and anything else in the yard is either unsuitable for eating or will just be eaten by the dogs (who also love to find pecans). I guess I need to make some of that nut bread I keep threatening to make. We have a lot of pecans.

Other gifts for M: a giant tent with princesses on it from Aunt Kerney, a set of those magic markers that only color on the special paper from my mom, a recorder flute from Emma and Papa, Put me in the Zoo book and stuffed toy from Debbie and Lewis (along with a cute new Braves hat). There was other stuff, but I'm drawing a blank. Margaret didn't miss out on presents, that's for sure.

Wes and I got lots of Ikea gift cards, which we used to buy Pax closets. In tearing out our old, poorly designed built in closet that came with the house (well, it was probably put in during the 60's when the back part of the house was added), we learned there were hardwood floors under the ugly, old, dusty carpet. So we had to decide between hardwoods that had spackle and paint dripped on them and the ugly dirty old carpet. We decided that since we didn't have money for new carpet, but could conceivably purchase some floor paint to cover the floors, we'd do that. It was as if the owners at the time thought, "heck, who cares if we drip spackle and paint on the floor? After all, we're putting in this swanky new carpet!" The floors are pretty nice otherwise. But we don't have the time to sand and refinish them, so paint it is for now! I'm assuming we'll actually get to that before the baby comes, and I'm hoping that, unlike our bathroom project, it won't be 2 years before we get it done (don't hold your breath, though!).

So now we're waiting for Ikea to get some additional pieces in...turns out all that stuff isn't always in stock when you want it. But Wes has most of his stuff back in his side, and I've got some clothes in my side (not all of them yet, since we're waiting for some more stuff like drawers, etc.), but it's coming together.

On Monday, we celebrated our projecting success by visiting the Tennessee Aquarium in Chattanooga. Sure, we live 3 miles from the new, world's largest aquarium, but it's so crowded, and so expensive, that we decided to visit the Tennessee one. We went there when Margaret was only 3 months old, and we had a blast. This time might even have been better. Naturally, we were poky and didn't get there until about 2, which is her usual naptime. Even though she didn't sleep in the car, she was absolutely delightful. I was afraid she would be afraid of the dark places, but she kept running from tank to tank, ogling the fish, and looking for the big shark. She didn't even seem to fade until we were nearly finished with the second building, and it was getting close to dinnertime. I did have to carry her a few blocks to the restaurant, but she didn't even melt down there. I did wish I'd brought some pajamas, because the meltdown happened when we got home and had to change out of her clothes, but overall, it was a really fun trip. We saw lots of fish. Margaret was actually more interested in the videos of the otters playing than she was in the actual live otters on the other side of the glass, but I couldn't get her away from the sturgeon tank where you can pet them. I bought her a little rubber shark, since she really seemed to enjoy the shark in the salt water tank. She's slept with it most nights since we got home. I think we might make this an annual holiday trip, since we've had so much fun each time we've been. It was really nice to just hang out together as a family.

OK, this is plenty long. Off to get ready to go out to dinner for a friend's birthday. Of course, Margaret is feeling better now that she's had some tylenol, so I'm hoping it will go well. I won't let anyone near her for fear that she'll infect them, but it might be nice to eat someone else's food.