tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54190032011-07-08T04:43:26.794-04:00Quistilton NewsLife with the QuistiltonsLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.comBlogger1931100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-90178445951143277262010-03-13T17:57:00.001-05:002010-03-13T17:57:44.418-05:00The Biggie thought the word “flatulent” meant “polite.” (She said, “it sounds like gallant!”) If that were true, this family could write the book on etiquette. I’m just sayin’.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-74028441365237744922010-03-05T08:03:00.006-05:002010-03-05T08:10:27.403-05:00What It Has Come ToThis note is posted above the controls of my stove. Just a little reminder, though I’m thinking, with the economy down, who would sneer at a little extra protein?The other day I heard Milo at his food bowl, then realized he was sitting at my feet. Hm. The crunching sounds continued. Tiptoeing over to the bowl, I saw a flash of movement into a teeny weeny hole I’d never Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-17491462746214704972010-03-04T16:09:00.001-05:002010-03-04T16:10:13.090-05:00Vocabulary of the Day:Blebitis: Inflammation of the tongue such that its protrusion from the mouth interferes with normal speech, e.g. “Dis blebitis is mekkin it hahd ta tahk.”Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-73771134235227943152010-02-25T05:16:00.002-05:002010-02-25T05:20:10.305-05:00AbandoblogHey there, good lookin’. Didn’t I know you, back in the day? Say, a year or two ago?What happened to Quistilton News, you ask. (1) More work. (2) Facebook. ‘Nuff said. Now there’s still more work (thankfully), but Facebook jumped the shark when people like me joined it. (Note that I am still on there, but have learned to wrangle into submission my addiction to fluffy, sugary Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-10663963804166107792008-11-11T20:25:00.001-05:002008-11-11T20:25:56.598-05:00Things I Never Thought I Would Have to Say, Part Four“Don’t spray sunscreen on the windows!”Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-10218956595392619312008-11-04T08:03:00.003-05:002008-11-04T08:07:27.228-05:00Brought To You By InsomniaThe best way I have ever spent insomniatic time--VOTING. I was up early listening to the Wee One cough (hello, asthma season!) when I remembered that the polls opened at 6. As I drove down the road, I encountered my neighbor, letting the chickens out. He was on his way to the polls, too. When I got to the community center, his wife was already there, as were about 15Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-564551182360564112008-10-27T12:04:00.001-04:002008-10-27T12:04:25.434-04:00Things I Never Thought I Would Have to Say, Part Three“Stop licking the bus stop!”Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-43561360934041427112008-10-23T11:57:00.001-04:002008-10-23T11:57:34.643-04:00Vocabulary of the Day:Post-Herpetic Neuralgia-A generalized painful sensation experienced after encountering a lizard.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-14647788116251963832008-10-21T22:39:00.000-04:002008-10-21T22:40:08.490-04:00SNOW. That's right. I'm thinking this winter's going to be a doozie.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-11303235349264118312008-10-07T13:08:00.007-04:002008-10-07T13:21:29.656-04:00Breaking Biggie News FlashShe won a national Amtrak essay contest!!!She wrote the essay while we were traveling on the Amtrak Cascade in Oregon in August. The notification was delivered to me by FedEx just now. She didn't win the grand prize of some sort of El Capitan super train, but rather one of 14 "first" prizes of a Polar Express train set--which is the one she wanted, anyway.Very many Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-47610176176616801012008-10-06T23:17:00.002-04:002008-10-06T23:20:07.655-04:00Keeping It SurrealAs I pulled up to my dentist's office today, I noticed what looked like a corral next to the building...and in it, a young heifer who tried to eat my coat sleeve when I fed her some stray hay. Dr. Piskorowski's latest rescue project, indeed.Man, sometimes I just love Ithaca.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-69726633571763762012008-08-06T08:01:00.002-04:002008-08-06T08:03:48.120-04:00I ordered the Wee One a teeny red backpack for school. It arrived on Friday and she promptly packed it for our upcoming “Girl Trip” to Oregon (the poor Husband has to stay here and work). Here is what she deemed essential equipment for venturing to the hinterlands of the West Coast:4 packets of Swiss Miss instant hot cocoa, with marshmallows2 packets microwave popcorn5 quarters, 1 nickel and 4 Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-62127651525136624882008-08-05T20:06:00.002-04:002008-08-05T20:10:56.179-04:00The Hostile Takeover is CompleteIt finally happened. I had to look up a word used by the Biggie. It wasn’t that big a word, and upon retrospect I knew what it meant (this is the “saving face” portion of the program, folks) but she was flinging words at me; we were in mid-fight mode, and I was rattled by her multi-syllabic grenades coupled with my cumulative years of sleep deprivation. “Mama,” Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-34748490275784753152008-07-30T14:50:00.002-04:002008-07-30T14:55:18.031-04:00Vocabulary of the DayPerhaps this one shouldn't count, because it's real, but here is an actual journal title that I've been pulling abstracts from today: Vox Sanguinis, abbreviated "Vox Sang" in citations. Yes, that would be, in Latin, "The Voice of Blood."A little light reading for your nightstand, there.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-12151689530732320562008-05-28T09:17:00.002-04:002008-05-28T09:19:04.624-04:00Parenting Genius Award(If I knew how to do anything fancy I would insert sparkling graphics or perhaps a cartoon dancing kitten here.)I would just like to take a moment to present myself with the long-sought, most glorious Parenting Genius Award. This award marks one of the few opportunities in parenting to rest on your laurels, pat yourself on the back and say, “Job well done!”*Unfortunately I Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-44817259559353316092008-05-26T09:10:00.002-04:002008-05-26T11:55:32.151-04:00A comment made on the last post (thanks, Amy) made me realize I should explain something. The vocabulary of the day posts (all two of them) come from actual words or phrases I come across in the research related to my work, and my imagined meanings for them. The definitions rise from my criss-crossed Latin language/Biology Major*/random non-professional medical worker/M.Ed. background, heavily Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-44111042854229559562008-05-22T10:12:00.002-04:002008-05-22T10:12:57.296-04:00Vocabulary of the Day:Intraoperative pachymetry-The systematic measurement of anesthetized elephants.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-50649402160834292912008-03-04T08:57:00.002-05:002008-03-04T08:58:16.258-05:00Quote of the Day, Out of the Random Mouths of Babes, Biggie edition:"Every clock in this house says a DIFFERENT TIME. It is exactly like VENICE."Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-81577339644745397022008-03-04T08:51:00.001-05:002008-03-04T08:53:44.182-05:00Vocabulary of the day:Hypovolemia - a dangerous lack of small insectivorous mammalsThis is what happens when my checkered educational and career backgrounds intersect.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-26556818560591500932008-02-14T20:26:00.001-05:002008-02-14T20:26:36.219-05:00OK that was sortof frightening. I'll put some normal pictures up soon.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-53144342972882969242008-02-14T20:07:00.007-05:002008-02-14T20:25:35.545-05:00I don't know what I'm doing with this picture thing, the taking of, posting of, etc. These gorgeous photos were taken with my cell phone. Here is the Biggie, and what I like to call (after the heart-to-heart I had with our dentist today) The $5,000 Mouth. Observe the artfully crafted double cross-bite and the gynormously overcrowded teeth in all their glory. Six of those puppies are coming Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-36297986892218206172008-02-14T18:14:00.002-05:002008-02-14T18:41:57.454-05:00Well hey there, good lookin'. Long time, no see. How's tricks?OK, it has been a while. Lame excuses: I was busy. I forgot my blogger login. My mojo was lo-lo. My yin and yang were being balanced. My aura was in the shop.Let's bring y'all up to the present. The Biggie and Wee One are the same, only skinnier, taller and even more chatty than before. The Big is in second grade and would Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-38251735633130950802007-07-11T03:36:00.001-04:002010-03-08T09:11:36.978-05:00Once Again, Brought to You By InsomniaIs anyone else attempting to read all of the previous Harry Potter books before the LAST ONE comes out? I’m only on number 2, and a new work assignment + constant kid duty means I have little chance of finishing them all. Plus I realized I have an all-day teacher training (for church, no I haven’t gone out and gotten a real job!) THE DAY THE BOOK COMES OUT.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-23512438462169521222007-06-21T19:47:00.000-04:002007-06-21T19:48:03.394-04:00The Wee One calls seagulls “snow eagles.”Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-88548054736798409562007-06-21T18:57:00.000-04:002007-06-21T18:59:53.532-04:00Thunderclouds are looming, the sky is rumbling and there’s a tornado warning in effect. All appropriate for the day, as far as I’m concerned.This was the Biggie’s last day of first grade, her last day with the teacher who so lovingly nurtured her through kindergarten and first grade, who brought her from reading single words to off-the-elementary charts grown-up books prowess. She has taught Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-4373677208274837682007-06-08T04:33:00.000-04:002007-06-08T04:36:12.213-04:00Why, oh why, again with the waking up at 2 a.m.? Sigh. I lay there in the pitch-dark, utterly awake, when I heard a sound that reminded me of a long-haul trailer shifting as it goes up a big hill. A low hum, it shifted pitch and faded in and out. I realized it was the wind running through the contours of the many arms and hollows of our little glacier-carved mountain—the hill was singing.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-47738286040306425232007-06-04T05:37:00.001-04:002007-06-04T06:14:51.854-04:00Brought To You By InsomniaWell hey, folks—it’s been a long time. Excuses? Nothing good, just unpacking/working/kids/lameitude, the basics. Spring has just about spent her bloom here, and summer is looming like a thunderhead. We’ve already had a 90-plus degree day, though it doesn’t get so bad here on the windy hill. The garden is bursting; we’ve planted tomatoes, basil, blueberries, lettuce, Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-67011414245814113492007-02-05T09:06:00.001-05:002007-02-05T09:06:41.145-05:00The Annual RSV Season Celebration, 3rd edition*What is RSV, you ask? Why, let me educate you! RSV is Respiratory Syncytial Virus, a cold-like bug which would give you or me a cough and sore throat for a few days. When it invades a tiny person, however, especially a tiny person with asthma, RSV latches on and digs in its whiskery heels, invading the lungs and causing wheezing, severe coughing Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-17640675415122917142007-02-05T07:48:00.000-05:002007-02-05T08:00:51.896-05:00A few weeks ago, my friend Scott (of Fishsuit) sent a simple request--mention his way-cool film Festival, Stockstock, on the blog, please, if I was so inclined. Which of course I was. When I went to post it, however, my pretty white computer sputtered, coughed, hacked up a few loogies and died. The death coincided with a new Office update that was downloading automatically...a mere coincidenceLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-30417007917885271552007-02-05T07:46:00.001-05:002007-02-05T07:46:42.411-05:00Quote of the DayWee One: "My toots are so loud sometimes. They are loud like the roar of a lion!"Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-32956877938067641232007-01-08T21:00:00.000-05:002007-01-08T21:01:31.660-05:00Also, I've added a new sidebar, "Mouse Count"—I think you know what it means.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-924856422023367802007-01-08T20:52:00.000-05:002007-01-08T20:54:33.189-05:00The phone company can't hook up a landline for us because they claim our address doesn't exist. The only record they have for a road with this name is in another, nearby township which split from our wee hamlet in 1811. Do you think they had all-in-one packages with call waiting included for only $39.95 per month back then?Life certainly is simpler out here; today I was declared "Best Mom in Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-72846389363841944432006-12-27T05:51:00.000-05:002006-12-27T05:55:27.443-05:00Big House in the Little WoodsThree weeks ago, we signed our lives over on this lovely hilltop house we are now calling home. For the first four nights, one or all of us woke up at 3 am, confused as to where we were, why it was so dark, and what that mysterious sound was (the wind). For the better part of a month I've been schooling myself in the workings of woodstoves, trying to figure out whatLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1163821000457417452006-11-17T22:36:00.000-05:002006-11-17T22:36:40.470-05:00Please, Floor, Swallow Me Up…While we were eating dinner at a restaurant tonight, the Wee One looked at a woman sitting at the next table and said, "Why is that lady eating her banana with a fork?" "Oh I don't know, it's less messy," I said, fussing with my sandwich. The Wee One looked at her again and said, in her most piercing voice, "Chinese people don't know how to eat bananas!"Just don't Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1163315983821116622006-11-12T02:11:00.000-05:002006-11-12T02:19:43.833-05:00The bigger of the two small people and I did the Cutest Race in the Universe yesterday, the Interlaken Steeplechase. It is not a traditional steeplechase (which involves vaulting hay bales); it's called the Steeple Chase because the money raised is used to help fund the steeple renovation for the local church. Plus the mile markers are made out of the church's previous steeples. There are onlyLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1162912449861533462006-11-07T10:13:00.000-05:002006-11-07T10:14:09.873-05:00Because We Lock Her in a Closet From Friday Night Until Monday MorningThis week's question at the Wee One's preschool was, "What did you do this weekend?"Madison: "I went on a pony ride! And to the farmer's market and a park!"Ashley: "Grandma came and we drove around and ate doughnuts and went to the toy store and watched a movie!"Wee One: "I did nothing."Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1162836450272996952006-11-06T13:07:00.000-05:002006-11-06T13:07:30.286-05:00Honey, Let's Buy the Turtle HouseSo I'm zooming around this morning, cleaning and shining and baking and lighting in preparation for a showing. On my last pass through, who do I find scritch-scratching her way around the dining room? Yes, Skipperdee the Turtle, who somehow launched herself out of her aquarium and was well on her way to the wilds of the parlor.What, wandering reptiles aren't a Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1162762512651905112006-11-05T16:34:00.000-05:002006-11-05T16:35:12.663-05:00I know, there's been silence on Planet Quistilton lately, but do not take that to mean there is nothing going on. On the contrary, EVERYTHING is going on, ALL AT ONCE. The Husband was traveling for business. The dreaded Dengue Fever once again reared its ugly head. I'm increasing my work hours. And the topper, what puts this blogmistress over the friable edge of sanity, is we're buying a newLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1158191798783097222006-09-13T19:54:00.000-04:002006-09-13T20:48:48.736-04:00After we read and sing our songs, the Husband or I (whichever one is on bedtime duty) steps out of the small people's room and heads downstairs. Normally, the Biggie starts snoring within moments, while the Wee One tosses and turns for a few minutes. Tonight I went back upstairs after I expected them to have fallen asleep and caught the tail end of this conversation. It had apparently been Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1157993194275536722006-09-11T12:44:00.000-04:002006-09-11T12:48:59.856-04:00At the Wee One's Preschool, a posted list of "Favorite Things: colors, animals, food" (names changed to protect the innocent young Madisons and Ashleys of the world):Madison: blue, turtle, peanut butter and jellyAshley: red, puppies, pizzaAnd then there's the Wee One: pink, horsies, ANIMAL MEATLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1157157120955600352006-09-01T20:20:00.000-04:002006-09-01T20:32:00.980-04:00BOYS BEWARE. GIRLS-ONLY INFO BELOW:I posted an ad in the sidebar, my first ever since the Google ads Fart Doll Debacle. It is for a super-cute Canadian company that makes cloth menstrual pads and sells other pleasing non-disposable girly products. I have tried this stuff, and I am never, ever going back.No, I have not sold them my soul. And no, it is not gross.Check 'em out.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1154903347208036152006-08-06T18:27:00.000-04:002006-08-06T18:29:07.216-04:00DONE. DID IT.One hour and forty-nine minutes, flat. Did not reach swim goal (26:45 or so, but I didn't drown). Reached bike goal (50 minutes? Something like that.) Did not reach run goal (almost same as swim, 26 minutes and change). BUT—I finished it. I utilized the breast stroke in addition to my patented sidestroke/water tread. I only hung onto two boats. I was not last in the swim. Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1154728403417177722006-08-04T17:52:00.000-04:002006-08-04T17:53:23.426-04:00The triathlon is on Sunday. SUNDAY. IN TWO DAYS. I have not ridden my bike in a month. I am not going to tell you the last time I swam. I have strep throat. I have an epic, oozing case of poison ivy. I have all sorts of excuses. That said, here is the CURRENT TRIATHLON RACE PLAN:Saturday prior to race (tomorrow): Pick up race packet and try not to be intimidated by hundreds of super-fit Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1154394251256871272006-07-31T21:02:00.000-04:002006-07-31T21:04:11.270-04:00Goodnight, ChefThe Wee One has reached a startling new level of maturity lately, one which has me wondering if we have reached the end of the endless screaming/flailing/contorting/destroying/random acts of parental insanity-making. I know I'd better knock on some wood, throw salt over my shoulder or kiss a drunken leprechaun before I state this out loud, but…she is really getting to be fun. She Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1151680354511079112006-06-30T11:10:00.000-04:002006-06-30T18:36:35.766-04:00Here's how the triathlon training is going: NOT. I can only run 2.5 miles at a time (per my PT guy's instructions), I haven't gone swimming in, gulp, two months, and my wee bike is dusty on its hanger-hook. I'm not worried about finishing the race; after two natural labors, I know I could slog through the whole thing with my kids tied to my back, but I had visions of being a bit zoomy this timeLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1150388575146690642006-06-15T12:03:00.000-04:002006-06-15T15:45:09.050-04:00Achieving AdulthoodIt wasn't when I got married. Nor was it when I gave birth to my first or second child (though they may be driving me to an early grave). Buying the house gave me an inkling of it, though it still feels like a toy house, there is so much that is funky about it. No, the moment I felt that I had reached a certain level of maturity was when I accepted delivery (via the front Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1150210613269231452006-06-13T10:55:00.000-04:002006-06-13T10:56:53.320-04:00Not Prepared For This OneLast night, while she was happily slurping her ice cream, the Biggie turned to me and announced, "Mama, I have two boyfriends." Hiding my shock, I asked, "Really, who?" "Connor and Wiley." This is familiar territory. She has proclaimed she would marry Wiley, an old family friend, since she knew about princes and princesses and the inevitable ending of every Disney Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1149347742552269212006-06-03T11:13:00.000-04:002006-06-03T11:23:32.720-04:00It's a rainy Ithaca morning, a day for puttering, reading the newspaper and drinking too much coffee. The Ithaca Festival is this weekend; perhaps we'll go later and try to catch another performance of Hilby the Skinny German Juggle Boy. But for now we are just lazing about the house. Or at least I am lazing. This is what my children are doing:9:30 am: Biggie has cut a long, long piece of Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1147876275757530892006-05-17T10:28:00.000-04:002006-05-17T10:35:26.420-04:00Most of you are aware that in 1998 the Husband cut the top off of my Volvo. He achieved international notoriety for this deed when I called Tom and Ray of "Car Talk," the weekly National Public Radio show. The Husband and I were debating the structural integrity of the car, post-crewcut. He insisted that it was sound, even as the middle of the car sagged to the ground. Tom and Ray Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1147793875594537872006-05-16T11:17:00.000-04:002006-05-16T21:48:13.186-04:00Bike RacingWell, Linnie has cleared me to post to the blog, so here goes.As some of you know, I started racing my bike last year and routinely write-up the experiences for friends and other folks. I race for a local team called Chris's Cookies. Not wanting to give the impression that I'm all fast and stuff, note that the sponsorship of said team involves mostly cookies and free coffee. It's fun Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01946868225830597121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1147114542922610622006-05-08T14:52:00.000-04:002006-05-10T20:18:19.990-04:00Still Nothing Going OnReally. But people are starting to ask why I haven't been posting and I'm afraid I'll get kicked off Fishsuit's blogroll, so here we are. The Wee One is upstairs, gritching about having to take a nap. The dog is dozing on the couch, having been up since 4 am (with me—insomnia strikes again). Biggie is at school, having finally gotten over a mysterious fever. The HusbandLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1143046803908574992006-03-22T11:59:00.000-05:002006-03-22T12:00:03.936-05:00Quistilton is leaping into the twenty-first century, ladies and gentlemen. First of all, the Husband and I joined a gym, a gym that’s so fancy I keep calling it a club and scurrying through because I think they’re going to kick me out for not shaving my legs. Second, I got an iPod, or iShuffle, or whatever the cheapest one is called. This thing is changing my life. I may be reluctant to Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1141145360497817072006-02-28T11:46:00.000-05:002006-02-28T13:55:12.256-05:00Dooce has an interesting discussion going on at her site, which I added to (see comment #789) but of course I don’t really think she’s going to write BACK to, so I’m shifting the discussion over to this site. I’d like to know what my little audience thinks. The basic gist of the discussion is the stay-at-home mom route as a valid choice for educated women, whether it’s anti-feminist, and Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1140617179738817132006-02-22T09:01:00.000-05:002006-02-22T09:38:19.600-05:00I added three new links in the ole' sidebar, there. I wanted a direct link to "Goddess of Clarity" so I don't have to sneak through "Fishsuit" every time I go there. "Passing Understanding" and "East Providence Zoo" are from folks whom I harassed into starting blogs. I have to work on the enthusiastic harassing; sometimes people don't like it. At a wedding the Husband and I attended last Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1140112728640896972006-02-16T12:58:00.000-05:002006-02-16T12:58:48.650-05:00Elmo is a just a red Grover.Yesterday the Wee came home from daycare wearing a borrowed shirt, since she’d gotten hers wet. The borrowed shirt was a snazzy blue fleece number, with the googly eyes, round pink nose and crooked smile rounding out a face so familiar from my youth. “You’ve got a Grover shirt on!” I said to the Wee as I picked her up. She threw her body back and cried, “It’s Elmo!”Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1139015271093477112006-02-03T19:52:00.000-05:002006-02-03T20:07:51.103-05:00To continue in the current vein of relative unimportance...Upon serious contemplation, I really have to say that rather than Kiki's Delivery Service, a much more endlessly watchable film is Totoro. There. That's been bugging me all day.Oh, and a much weirder habit than getting up at 4 am would be my obsession with organizing the groceries on the converyer belt at the store. I group them by Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1138876982140165142006-02-02T05:42:00.000-05:002006-02-02T05:47:23.086-05:00Alrighty, here’s yet another meme (That’s what they’re called! Don’t I sound hip?) which everyone seems to be doing. (Are you really interested? Don’t answer that question.) (Could I make MORE parenthetical comments?)Four jobs I’ve had:1. Apple packer2. Barista, before I knew that’s what they were called. The psycho owner accused me of stealing $15 from the cash register, which was tended by Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1138874053508294272006-02-02T04:50:00.000-05:002006-02-02T05:01:02.020-05:00OK, so according to “What Free Time,” I am “tagged,” I’m “it.” I’m supposed to post five weird habits I have. Here goes:1) I chew my fingers. Not my fingernails, my fingers.2) I repeatedly fail to buy bread and crackers at the grocery store, fantasizing that I will make my own. What this really means is that the family is on a default low-carb diet. 3) This is a bad, bad habit: I Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1138738805907931212006-01-31T15:19:00.000-05:002006-01-31T15:20:05.930-05:00I knew it had been too long since we’d spent quality time at the hospital. The Wee One and I just got back from an overnight, not a big deal, really, just the old pneumonia, oxygen tent, prednisolone, screaming blood draws and massive injected antibiotics routine. Really, though, does she have a punch card there or something? I can see the appeal; they bring her unlimited pizza and pudding, Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1137079375747591162006-01-12T10:19:00.000-05:002006-01-12T10:22:55.763-05:00Happy New Year! My, it has been a long time. The Quistilton Gang has been busy traveling to Massachoo for the holidays, attending Cornell Women’s Hockey games (The Wee One’s chant: “Let’s go Big Red let’s go clap clap!”), and I, personally, have been engrossed in some new activities of my own. First, I’ve been reading “Eats, Shoots and Leaves,” by Lynne Truss. My brother and my sister each Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1133663748371385782005-12-03T21:33:00.000-05:002005-12-03T22:08:43.666-05:00The Attack Spaniel Turns OneWhen we picked this guy (i.e. when he scrambled into my lap and started licking me with irresistible puppy breath), the SPCA told us he was a "lab/cocker spaniel mix." Sixty pounds later, there is nary a cocker trait in sight, unless you count the occasional lack of bladder control when he is spooked by the Husband or other Large Brown Men. Happy birthday to my Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1132312711984050392005-11-18T06:17:00.000-05:002005-11-18T06:18:31.996-05:00Heck of a Commute This Morning.Yep. Stubbed my toe on the door jamb between the bedroom and the office.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1131974618040230492005-11-14T08:22:00.000-05:002005-11-14T08:25:18.076-05:00Piggy BankThe VCR stopped working a few months ago. I found a DVD inside (courtesy of the Wee One) and removed it, thinking I had solved the problem. No dice. Every time I put a tape in it whirred, whirred, whirred, slowly coming to a stop with fuzzy screen. After it devoured “Arthur’s Family Fun,” we stopped using it altogether. Last night, the husband bought a new 19-inch TV to replace theLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1131969747717655112005-11-14T06:53:00.000-05:002005-11-14T07:02:27.726-05:00Oh, and it's Amy and "anonymous" who have got it! (Charles, was that you?) "Umpooka" is umbrella, indeed! Leah, yogurt is "yoga" which also means "Yoda"--that makes for some confusing conversations. As in, "Me be yoga, me use light saba, eat me yoga!" (this usually said while brandishing a yogurt-covered knife)Thanks for playing, ya'll.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1131820505680251482005-11-12T13:32:00.000-05:002005-11-12T13:36:06.823-05:00Special Bonus Wee One Word: umpookaIf you can guess the meaning of that one, I'll reward you by publishing your name here on Quistilton News. I get at least three hits a day--you'll be internationally known in short order. Leave your guesses in the comments section.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1131796207572609342005-11-12T06:45:00.000-05:002005-11-12T06:50:07.573-05:00So I turned on word verification for the comments section. Sorry.This means you'll have to read a funny-looking security word and enter it when you leave a comment. It keeps robots from leaving unwanted spam comments. And you know, I was starting to get tired of deleting entries such as this one: "Hey, just read your blog, and boy is it GREAT! My friend has a blog about Indian wedding dressesLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1131795645574869882005-11-12T06:35:00.000-05:002005-11-12T06:42:42.820-05:00Why We Live HereLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1131794246910188002005-11-12T06:14:00.000-05:002005-11-12T07:52:53.150-05:00Wee One Translation Handbookegebaytah = elevatorpooyah = pillowwoo-woo (recently also “woobie-woobie”) = dogHiyaeen = Halloweenhing (As in, “No me not hing!” ensuing tantrum) = swingmine = my (this just has the effect of making her sound German)Wega = Wegmans (as in, “Me go a Wega me get f(r)ee cookie!”)white = green, pink, brown, blue, redgeen = gold (as in the shiny gold ford focus)hank = Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1129313524756688212005-10-14T14:10:00.000-04:002005-10-14T14:12:04.763-04:00Kindergarten is AWESOME!We have settled into a lovely pattern here, with my working-morning weekdays and the Wee One napping and the Biggie’s trumpeted arrival home from school. I finally feel like things are resembling normalcy, in a way that they never have since the Biggie first burst upon the scene, all big-eyed seven pounds and two ounces of her. My mom was right, I crave routine. It’s Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1128040655270784222005-09-29T20:34:00.000-04:002005-09-29T20:43:44.046-04:00First day of school.SwingingCharleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01946868225830597121noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1127518580690672862005-09-23T19:35:00.000-04:002005-09-23T19:36:20.700-04:00The StatsWe went to the doc today, twice. Due to their mess-up (I scheduled these appointments at 3 and 3:15 in MARCH), the Wee One went at 2:00, then I had to go get the Biggie at school and bring her back at 3:15. The Wee One enjoyed her appointment immensely. She stripped off all her clothes and was allowed to remain that way, IN PUBLIC, for 45 minutes! Heaven, as far as she was concerned.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1127149763548807882005-09-19T13:08:00.000-04:002005-09-19T13:09:23.553-04:00Why Do I Try To Take Them Shopping?Highlight of trip to Kmart: Wee One pulling down her pants in the cart and yelling “Me Poo Poo!” at the top of her lungs, with bare tushy in the middle of the party supply section. Run to bathroom; false alarm.Highlight of trip to Wegmans, directly following: Same procedure, this time in canned goods. During whirlwind zoom through the store I keep saying, “Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1126872393845043782005-09-16T08:06:00.000-04:002005-09-16T08:43:52.596-04:00All Hail the Wee One!I have mother-guilt because I don’t publish the sorts of obsessively detailed, isn’t-my-child-amazing posts about the Wee One as I did about the Biggie. But then I realize that it is her own fault, since her relentless quest for self-destruction is what keeps me from my keyboard. She is amazing in her own way, and for the sake of efficiency, let’s adopt a list format. KeepLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1126623030457127572005-09-13T10:47:00.000-04:002005-09-13T10:51:56.240-04:00So it has happened: The Biggie has started kindergarten. I have such seesawing, ambivalent feelings on this subject. On the one hand, YEEHA! Less work! Less guilt about not responding to her every intellectual query! Etc, etc. On the other hand, YIKES! My baby is with relative strangers for thirty hours a week! My baby is riding, UNSEATBELTED, in a bus with twenty other screaming (and Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1126286005035750302005-09-09T13:12:00.000-04:002005-09-09T13:13:25.040-04:00Kindergartner Question of the Day: "Which is more brave, bees or rain?"Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1124994981435741982005-08-25T14:35:00.000-04:002005-09-09T13:16:35.683-04:00There has been an appalling lack of quality updates lately, and I apologize. Much energy is going elsewhere—work, housework, travel, etc. But enough excuses!The Biggie is preparing for kindergarten (she refers to herself as a “Kindergartner-in-Waiting”). We recently found out who her new teacher will be, and I am secretly thrilled that she happens to be the wife of a local unicycling juggler.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1122881412007094582005-08-01T03:29:00.000-04:002005-08-01T03:30:12.016-04:00(Shhhh, do not tell anyone that I let the dog up on the couch with me. Or that I gave him a cold-pack cheese food-coated cracker.)Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1122478944543105572005-07-27T11:42:00.000-04:002005-07-27T11:42:24.550-04:00Not That I’m Complaining, But…Why, exactly, do they give me the senior citizens’ discount at the Salvation Army?Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1122428326149888312005-07-26T21:38:00.000-04:002005-07-26T21:38:46.156-04:00OK, this definitely falls into the category of, Only the Parent of This Child Would Read This Entire Entry, but this is the closest thing I have to a baby book for her, and I’m saving this, damnit. Or dammit. Whichever you prefer. As far as I know, she has never actually seen the movie of The Little Mermaid, but she has read those wretched Disney storybooks and their “sequels”—hence the Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1121570845537002362005-07-16T23:26:00.000-04:002005-07-16T23:27:25.543-04:00Trying to follow instructions from the obliging Goddess of Clarity (thank you, madam!), I rooted around in my code for a while, but decided that what Quistilton really needed was a facelift. And republishing the blog with a new template just happened to fix the spacingness problem. So, voila! “What Free Time” and Shane will return soon; I need to find their links again. I just finished the Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1121553953926970832005-07-16T18:45:00.000-04:002005-07-16T18:45:53.933-04:00Things I Never Thought I Would Have To Say, Part One“Get your foot out of your yogurt.”“Stop licking your sister.”“DO NOT EAT THE POOP!” (This to the dog, mercifully.)Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1121445555141168362005-07-15T12:39:00.000-04:002005-07-15T12:39:15.146-04:00It has finally happened. They are both sitting on the couch, reading the “American Girls” catalog that I didn’t manage to toss in the recycle before the Biggie snatched it. The Biggie is saying, “Do you like this one? Or this one? Or this one? Or this one?” and the Wee One is saying sullenly, “Mo. Mo. Mo. Mo.” But they are sitting calmly, together, while I hide over here and play on my Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1121184473323902262005-07-12T12:07:00.000-04:002005-07-12T12:07:53.323-04:00HELP! Does anyone know why my posts are coming up in this funny format, with the big spacing-ness?Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1121184419444752882005-07-12T12:06:00.000-04:002005-07-12T12:09:53.526-04:00Great ExpectationsI am genetically incapable of waiting patiently. The night before I started kindergarten, I went to bed, only to rise and don my red corduroy knickers and Winnie-the-Pooh shoes, go downstairs and find that my parents had not yet gone to bed. It was 10:30 pm.When I went to Disney World at the age of 6, I woke up in the hotel at 4:30, ate my little cardboard box of Sugar Smacks,Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1119972425831002162005-06-28T11:24:00.000-04:002005-06-28T22:10:14.930-04:00A Little Burst of Sunshine in the Nine-to-FiveI just love my job. I am paid not-insignificant wages to sit in my house, at my computer, searching the internet for interesting (at least to me) information. I can do it whenever I want, there are no real deadlines, and there is no commute. My dog is at my feet. My children are playing happily next door with their way-cool babysitter, and if one Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1119439423238584672005-06-22T07:21:00.000-04:002005-06-22T07:23:43.246-04:00Pediatric Conflict ResolutionBiggie: “Sit down for a minute, I want to talk to you.” (Wee One sits on the nearest available chair, which happens to be the potty. She pees.) “The dalmation puppy you’re holding is very special to me. Do you remember that I got it at the Salvation Army?” Wee One: “Mm-hmm!” Biggie: “And you know how special it is to me?” Wee One: “Mm-HMM!” Biggie: “So can I Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1117654407342997812005-06-01T15:32:00.000-04:002005-06-01T15:33:27.346-04:00And You Thought You Knew Me...I am probably the only person in the universe who has both Dooce.com and Flylady.net on her bookmarks bar.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1116812891068762252005-05-22T21:47:00.000-04:002005-05-22T21:48:11.076-04:00What A Long, Strange Trip It’s BeenHi all, sorry so long without an update. Much has been happening in the land of Quistilton. The first no-blogging excuse was that I got a job. Yes! After five years of near-unemployment, I reentered the workforce with a vengeance, in high-powered suits and heels, running knock-down drag-out business meetings, putting in 12-hour days, the whole shebang. OK, Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1112108020669274042005-03-29T09:52:00.000-05:002005-03-29T09:53:40.670-05:00Parenting Olympic Level Challenge: Maintain your place at the front of the line at the DMV for two hours and five minutes while simultaneously entertaining a hyperactive 18-month-old with a propensity for personal harm. You are armed only with a cell phone and a tube of chapstick. Cell phone may not be used to call for reinforcements.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1111711870947076272005-03-24T19:49:00.000-05:002005-03-24T19:51:10.950-05:00Yesterday the Biggie acted out an elaborate story called “Crocus: The First Sign of Spring” starring two stuffed Peeps. It included, among other things, a skating lake of rainbow ice and a magical crocus garden which caused the Peeps to shrink down in size and then grow into giants, a la Alice in Wonderland. The Peeps were sent to us, along with real marshmallow Peeps, chocolate eggs (which I Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1111098899231519932005-03-17T17:34:00.000-05:002005-03-17T17:34:59.233-05:00CUTE.The man who Milo and I met at the park today told me all about his “pedigree Datsun.”(Milo is the new pooch, by the way. See homepage for pic.)Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1108578297657411912005-02-16T13:24:00.000-05:002005-02-16T13:24:57.656-05:00Overheard on the Telephone This MorningThe four-year-old talking to her friend* Riley:“We were quite concerned that my Po doll was in the attic, actually.”* A few months ago, the Biggie said to me in a matter-of-fact manner, “Well, Riley told me that she hated me, so I don’t know if she wants to play anymore.”Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1107701475921317442005-02-06T09:50:00.000-05:002005-02-06T09:51:15.920-05:00It’s a Far Cry From “Footloose”
Did you know that Kenny Loggins had a kids’ CD out? The “Neverland Medley” is our new “put it on repeat so that mama gets five minutes to herself” theme.
Thank you Elaine!Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1107571775104202602005-02-04T21:41:00.001-05:002005-02-04T21:49:35.106-05:00I Am That Mother
I am that mother whose toddler stands up in the grocery cart. Give me all the evil glares you want--and then why don’t YOU try keeping her strapped in. Yes, I KNOW she can climb from the seat into the cart by herself. Believe it or not, I AM WATCHING HER.
I am that mother who, when her preschooler with the ear infection bursts into tears in the hair care aisle, gives in and Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1106785470273649092005-01-26T19:20:00.000-05:002005-01-26T19:24:30.273-05:00I'm Psychic (Though In My Family We Call It "Psycho")
“Look at that UPS truck! Maybe there’s a surprise package in it for me!” I swear I said this to the Husband of the Blog only yesterday, as I drove him up to the airport. “Ooh, or maybe there’s a package for me in THAT truck--or THAT one!” I love packages, and there has been a lot of crazymaking going on lately--maybe that's why I was Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1106771063628718942005-01-26T15:21:00.000-05:002005-01-26T15:24:23.626-05:00Why I Am Never, Ever Going Outside With Them Again. At Least Not Until It Stops Snowing. Which Will Be In May.
This morning I hit upon the idea that we should get out, out of the stuffy house, out into the lovely beautiful snowbrushed landscape. Kids like snow, right? Kids want to play in the snow. I shouldn’t deprive my kids of that simple pleasure. So it’s decided, then. We’re going outLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1105331347988553032005-01-09T23:28:00.000-05:002005-01-09T23:29:24.886-05:00“Mama, do you want to know what makes a baby in the mama’s belly?” “Sure.” (I’ve dealt with this before--see the entry for August 25, 2003.) “A little bit of love on a little honeymoon.”
This is what happens when you allow your child to listen to country music. We have the Husband of the Blog to thank for this, NOT ME. He has them trouping about to the melodies of Alan Jackson and his ilk.Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1103759602771715362004-12-22T18:49:00.000-05:002004-12-22T18:54:45.880-05:00Again with the sudsy diapers! What is UP? Does anyone know anything about this weirdness? It is only with diapers, and only since I got Wegman's brand detergent. This is what I get for being a cheap hippie.
A great big thank you goes out to Susan in Seattle, who just sent me a collection of all the cartoons ever published in the New Yorker. I will reemerge from the bathroom in Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1103218773585538402004-12-16T13:39:00.000-05:002004-12-16T12:39:33.586-05:00Snapshot of the Quistilton Household, 12:06 pm
I am washing the French Press in the bathroom sink. Why? Because there are 36 clean, but soap-saturated cloth diapers in the kitchen sink. I am washing the French Press because I was awake from 1 until 5 this morning, after falling asleep with the Wee One at 8 last night, and I either need to drink more coffee or prop my eyelids open with Linniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5419003.post-1101830001234505762004-11-30T10:51:00.000-05:002004-11-30T10:53:21.236-05:00The Beginning of the End of the Not Sleeping, Maybe
I have decided to teach the Wee One how to fall asleep at night without nursing, so that theoretically I might one day be able to leave her with another person and know that she will not spend the entire sleepy time screaming. I know that many of you think I should have already done this. I know that many of you probably think it’s weird thatLinniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14916420421386673092noreply@blogger.com0