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Archive for October, 2006

The Best Juice EVER

I think we found it.  Liquid gold, manna from heaven.

Tropicana Organic Mango Orange Juice.  I can’t describe how happy I am when I drink it and its just juice, dammit!   Y’all know I generally could care less about organic, so don’t think I went looking for it.  Also, I don’t drink much juice.  I found this stuff at Costco earlier this week and thought, “Gee, wouldn’t Hubster like this? Its got Mango in it!”  It has more mango than orange, but it tastes like a fruit nectar except that all the sweet comes from juice and not white sugar.  The juice is smooth and definitely not overpowered by the orange.

Good luck finding yourself some.  This stuff must still be a test product – I can’t find hide nor hair of it on Tropicana’s website.

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Everything started out GREAT when Cute Son was a baby.  At least four weeks after him becoming a breathing, outside my body, baby.  Although I tried sleeping with him in the same room, I couldn’t take all the sounds he made at night.  He ended up sleeping in his crib most nights.  We used Dr. Karp’s Happiest Baby on The Block book and got sleep like new mothers dream of.  For a whole year.

Then we went to Morocco.  For a month.  Without a crib.  With a doting grandmother and aunties (who love to snuggle with babies).  And all our hard work was for naught.

He hated the crib.  With a passion.  We gave up and stuck the kid in bed with us.  And poor husband got the boot because this mama cannot share a queen size bed with two people who take up more room than the bed has got in it.  This kid slept HORIZONTAL.

Poor husband has slept in every room of both of our apartments.  There have been times when the child has gone to his own bed, but he always ends up back with me.  Poor husband used to sleep on the living room futon… but since we moved here, he’s been on the floor and I’ve felt bad about that.  Needless to say, his back feels bad about this too.

Yesterday, for the umpteenth time, we are trying to move the kid out of the mommy bed.  I am no great help in this because I actually like sleeping with him.  I got used to his habits and patterns.

Cute son hates the lovely, expesive albeit used firetruck bed I bought him.  Its a cute daytime novelty, but he has no night time love for it.  I do have an inflatable bed with a built in blanket which is residing on the floor in the bedroom right now.  In the night, before I go to sleep, I get to move the sleeping boy onto it and then go to sleep.

Last night was our first serious try with this.  I woke up around 3 am with the child between husband and me.  I have no memory of him getting in bed with us, I was that tired.  A small bit of night time persuasion and water got him back into his own little bed.  This morning, I asked husband how his night’s sleep was.  With a rueful grin he said he hadn’t slept all night because I snored!  *sigh*  This is a terrible side effect of my preggo congestion of which I was blissfully unaware.  I feel bad, but there’s nothing I can do, probably that is allowable when pregnant.  Poor guy thought he was coming back to paradise and only got the other bad end of the stick.

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Canned Crack

I or Hubster can slave away over a dinner and all we get from Cute Son is a cursory bite or two… usually coaxed.  YET — when I pop a can of Spagettios, the kid is all over it like white on rice and eats almost the entire can.  What’s in this stuff that kids like so much???

I have to figure out what’s in this stuff… Could it be MSG or corn syrup…  Hmmm….  Or Crack Cocaine?

Oh, the questions.

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Have a Great Day!

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Because I need some concentration.  Gee whiz.

I have too many projects on my plate, not enough time to do them and all sort of due in the same time period.  I can’t figure out which one to work on first.  (Actually I know which one – its the one due this week.  It was really due last week … but considering that the entire office is lagging behind, I am not standing out of the pack so much)

I suppose Ritalin is sort of off limits for multiple reasons anyway… The wee bitty fetus just being one of them… I just see her carooming off my uterine walls having a grand old time.

Speaking of bitty fetuses and their effect on the bodily universe, I am doing better.  I am feeling somewhat rested at times…  My digestive tract, with the help of OTC friends, is now moderately cooperating and fighting against the onslaught of progesterone.  My joints are loosening up.  I forgot all about this from last time… but sitting on the couch or a chair for any length of time makes me sore in the joints.  Its weird.

I am starting to make up my name list.  I am going to try my darndest to to keep our final choice to ourselves.  I want the girl, but I have to pick names at this point for both as the gender sonogram is weeks away.    I like almost anything with a Z in it for both girls and boys.  I do not like names that 10 other kids will have in his class.  I like less used name, but am not so keen on names Zebediah (and its biblical too).  Hand over any suggestions and they will go in the pot.

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*slogan property of HijabMan

I got to thinking this afternoon that I’ve done a lot of griping in the last six months. Negativity breeds negativity. This is not to say that I have not had a lot to gripe about. But its hard to find anything positive when the rain cloud is sitting on your head and following you about.

Its cliche, possibly, to make a list of positives, alhamdulillahs if you will, but I want to. Even if to show myself that I have a lot to be thankful for, happy for.

  1. Islam. I don’t ever feel the way I used to before I made shahada – confused, alone, rudderless. I have a way of life that fulfills me.
  2. My son. He’s driving me nuts, like a good 3-year-old should. But in between, he runs up to me and hugs me and says he loves me, even after I’ve been yelling at him and tears come to my eyes. Watching him grow up is hard to do because he needs me less (or thinks he does). Also, its hard to see progress in the day to day, nitty gritty until I look back at a photo from a year ago and just sit back in awe.
  3. My husband. Say its cliche all you want. He pisses me off mightily on a regular basis. I do the same thing to him. We’ve had some serious issues this year. HOWEVER –that being said — he’s loyal, tenacious (sometimes like a little rat terrier with a chew toy) and takes his commitments more seriously than I do. Right now, he’s working his tail off, during Ramadan mind you, six or seven days a week, to provide for us and to get us ready for our big changes. Also, and I don’t know how he does it, he doesn’t need to vent to people when things get stressful between us. He’s never once bad-mouthed me to anyone. I wish I could say the same and it shames me that I can’t.
  4. My family. Its small. Its spread out way too far and that’s never going to change. That said, they’ve always been there for me. I don’t think I could choose better.
  5. My crafty bug. I always have time for crafts and fun artsy stuff. I have fun doing it, usually make something useful and now can share it with my son. He did almost sew my finger once, but I have forgiven him for that.
  6. Books. Some people don’t like to read much and I don’t know how they can do it. Where do they let go of themselves and fly free in their minds? I suppose they must have some way of doing it, but I can’t imagine what.
  7. FlyLady. My house isn’t perfect, but most of it is just 15 minutes away from guest worthy.
  8. The new baby. Its a whole new chance to try something else. To feel something else. Every baby is different and the way you parent them is totally different. I am so excited at the chance of a VBAC, nursing our daughter *cough* child *cough* make it a daughter who is calm and healthy or I am going on strike *cough*, figuring out if our older son is going to like it or freak out. We’ve been trying for a year and a half on this one… Funny how long this one took vs. Cute Son.
  9. I have a roof over my head.
  10. Food in the kitchen.
  11. Heat. If I remember to pay it. 🙂
  12. Good friends. You go through periods of your life where your friends are scarce… either because you’ve all changed or you have moved or they moved. I don’t ever expect to be able to count on two hands the friends who would go through hell and high water for me, but I can definately say there are several. Some of them old, some new, but all gifted in the art of friendship and love.
  13. Brita. I am so darn thirsty all the time. Thank God the water tastes good.
  14. Last, but not least, the cold, impersonal internet. Through which I have met many of the friends of my life. Sometimes its hard to find people near you, or enough of them, who want to look at life like you do, who practice Islam like you and know the things you know. I found a lot of them online – sometimes they even move close to you!
  15. One more, I suppose: being able to hold my tongue. At times. I say so many mean things about people and to people in my head that sometimes I wonder if people can hear my thoughts. Its even a blessing that I get tongue-tied when I am angry. “On the Day their tongues, their hands, and their feet will bear witness against them as to their actions.” (24:24) Our tongues will testify against us on the day of judgement.

I think the list could go on and on to more mundane things… but I needed some perspective on this.

May each one of us receive the blessings of Ramadan, when the shayatin are locked up and good deeds are easy, when the rewards of good deeds are multiplied. Please remember to love each other and to give each other excuses if we think someone’s behavior slights us. Please forgive me anything I have said or done to offend.

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Ramadan 2006 Day 23

Just another day, I suppose.  I am sitting here looking at the not so exciting options for supper tonight.  Pizza it is, I suspect, since it only takes ten minutes to heat.  At least Cute Son will eat the tomatos on it.  (its a margherita pizza – yum!)

Did laundry today.  It went easy because Cute Son found some playmates.  Speaking of which, I remembered the interesting thing he said today.  We had gone out for a few minutes during the dryer time and came back.  The words out of son’s mouth were:  “Where are the brown boys?”, which was entirely correct in observation, but very weird to hear.  He did the same thing the other day about a white boy.  I think it must be just true observation without the varnish of political correctness.  He didn’t know the boys names (he’s 3 and doesn’t ask) so it makes sense to describe them.

Last night, got to pray maghrib at the masjid which was nice.  Dad took Son with him out for iftar with The Guys.  No complaints from me.  At least it wasn’t my monster running around the musalla (there was one loud one).  Mine is the one who forgets to take his shoes off and runs to the minbar.  *smile*  I’m so proud.

Hopefully, we don’t have to keep the kiddo out of child care tomorrow.  He’s still coughing bad in the mornings and parts of the day.  He’s on antibiotics for a minor ear infection (due to the congestion) and had a minor bronchitis.  I saw the amount of work waiting for on Monday when I was by the office this weekend and its piling up.  Eek!  Can’t wait until being an office grunt is over.

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