Wah, wah, waaaaaahhhhh

I was really, really, really excited the other day. I clicked on the dashboard for Blogger which allows me to edit posts, layout, etc. It also allows me to see how many people read my blog that day and if anyone left a comment. I've only had a handful of comments and every single one was left by a family member or a friend. Yesterday, however, there was a comment from a stranger. Huzzah! Who was this mysterious person who told me they found my blog on Alex's 7.5 month milestones to be full of "informative information," a rather redundant statement but I'll take it. Whoever they were clearly had great taste in reading.

About 24 hours later it hit me. My first, non-solicited-from-a-friend-or-family-member comment was Spam. It had occurred to me at the time I was reading it that the sentence seemed to have been written by a Nigerian prince but I was too excited and dismissed the choppy English as an International reader (which I do get from time to time and to which I would like to say: Hello! Guten tag! Здравствуйте! Hola! Sveiki! G’day! Namaste. привет! merhaba!).

So, to make a long story short, my dreams of becoming an International, best-selling blogger were dashed. I guess I'll get back to my regularly scheduled program of sitting here, staring at the computer screen.

The Old Folk's Home

According to a handwritten (meaning they specifically thought of us) postcard we received it would appear we're ready for either an adult nanny or the old folk's home.  Turning 30 wasn't as traumatic an experience as I thought it would be.  Turning 30.5 and receiving a piece of mail such as this?  That's traumatic.

Now I know where to send Marcus when the time comes.

Anywhere-aoke

I love karaoke.  Wherever I go, and there is a karaoke machine, I will sing.  I've belted out some of my greatest hits in NYC, New Orleans, Newport RI, or the pièce de résistance, Chincoteague VA.  These locations don't even begin to scratch the surface on how many homes and restaurants within a 50 mile radius have heard my melodious voice singing along to a synthetic version of "Like A Virgin" (which I was paid a whole dollar for in New Orleans...the jury's still out on whether the payer thought I was cute or wanted me to stop).  The odd thing is if I'm in a meeting and we do the dreaded round-the-room introductions I get all cold and clammy but yet singing in a darkened bar, in front a bunch of strangers, doesn't bother me in the least.  It could be because when at a bar I'm aware of the amount of alcohol flowing and I know that even if they think I stink they won't remember in about an hour.  This is opposed to a work-related meeting where (sadly) alcohol is not flowing and if I mess up my name everyone will definitely remember.

While karaoke is fun in its own right, car-aoke is fun in a lot more ways mostly due to the even greater level of anonymity it provides.  For one, there aren't a bunch of different eyes staring at you.  Provided you time it just right, nobody can see that you're singing.  For me, the worst is when there's an excellent car-aoke song playing on the radio and the traffic light ahead turns red.  I purposefully slow down, hoping to catch the light when it turns green so that I don't have to interrupt my sing-athon.  If I do catch a red light my Mariah Carey level vocal stylings are turned down to lullaby level as my mouth barely moves.  Humming is good too if ever caught at a red light.  However, if the road is wide open, with nary a traffic light in sight, I belt out my favorite tunes, one finger closing an ear so that I can hear myself better and be assured that I do, indeed, sound just like Mariah Carey (with a hint of Christina Aguilera).

A new favorite place for singing, and which has excellent acoustics, is the upstairs hallway in our house.  To be specific the area in front of the laundry room which sits about halfway in between the bedrooms and playroom.  While some other members of the family may not appreciate the talent that is me (*ahem* I'm looking at you, Marcus) there are others who obviously think I'm the cat's pajamas especially when it comes to various renditions of "Wheels on the Bus" and "Hush Little Baby."  I have high hopes that by me singing to Alex she will learn how to sing even better and one day make a lot of money, thus setting mommy and daddy up for an early retirement.  That is what kids are for, right?

7.5 Month Update

Baby Love is 7.5 months now and I can't believe it.  She is the light of my life and no matter what mood she's in she always puts me in a good mood.  I feel like I've worked through the feelings of frustration I felt at times and now meet every challenge with a smile.  Maybe it's a sign of growing more comfortable in my role as a mother?

"Enough about you, more about Alex!" you say?  Who am I to deny the whole one of you that reads this blog?  Without further ado, the goings-on of one, Miss Alexandra:

At Alex's 6 month check-up the pediatrician thought, after a 5 second look, that Alex may be developing a lazy eye.  She gave us a list of pediatric optometrists and told us to schedule an appointment to rule out any problems.  So, we chose a doctor in Charlottesville, VA about an hour and half west of where we live and took a half day off from work to have Alex's eyes examined.  Given my vision is about as acute as a mole, and has been since I was 8 years old, I wasn't too surprised that Alex may have a problem with her eyes.  As it turns out she's completely fine and the doctor said that a lot of times the bridge of an infant's nose can give the optical illusion that a baby's eyes are crossed.  In other words, the pediatrician needs her eyes checked.  I was only a little disappointed at this because it was my understanding that in order to correct a lazy eye the infant must wear an eye patch over the good eye.  This would have solved the Halloween costume problem I'm currently facing because of course she would have been a pirate had that been the case.

Alex has been sitting up on her own for some time now and we've been wondering when she would start crawling.  We aren't quite there yet but as of this past weekend she was getting up on all fours.  Unfortunately for her she hasn't really figured out how to move forward though she's quite adapt at moving backwards.  I'm pretty sure this is by accident and not because she intends to move backwards.  In fact, she gets rather frustrated when she realizes that instead of drawing closer to her target (usually a toy) she's moving father away.  We've found her nearly under the couch before realizing what she's up to.  The times she has moved forward have been out of sheer frustration as she flops down with an exasperated cry thus propelling her tiny body forward.

There are still no teeth to speak of popping through but she can drool with the best of them.  Onesies don't last very long at our house.

Finally, it would appear Marcus and Alex have been practicing for when they run away to join the circus:

The Amazing Tepaskinis!

These are the things that happen when I'm not at home, folks.  This would also explain why Lasagna's fur was singed.  Obviously they were training her to jump through a flaming hula-hoop.

An Early Halloween Story

My earliest memories from childhood all begin at the age of 3.  At that time we lived in Monterrey, CA and my first little sister, Audra, was born.  I can recall little snippets of our life there:  I had my first crush on George Michael (my first crush later turned into my first heartbreak).  I experienced my first earthquake which my three-year-old mind processed as giant bugs shaking the house.  There was that one, fateful day dad allowed for my balloon to be sucked out of the car despite my pleas with him to roll the window up.  I can remember it was a pink balloon if that gives any indication how attached to balloons I was and how traumatic I found the whole episode to be.   Finally, one of the more strange memories I have occurred when I should have been napping but instead took a sneak peek at what mom was watching on TV.  It was one of the more disturbing images of my young life.  I poked my head around the couch to see the screen and I remember seeing a man standing over somebody in a bed and then, as the camera closed-in, the person's legs deflated and rolled up.  That image has stayed with me for the last 27 years and to this day I cannot figure out what the heck it was.  Unfortunately, "deflated legs rolling-up into body" doesn't really get the results I'm looking for in Google.

However, none of those memories have scarred me as much as the one I'm about to tell you.  I don't remember what time of year it was and I don't remember exactly how old I was.  I was definitely between the ages of 3 and 5.  I do remember that Audra was already born because we shared a room and her crib was next to my bed.  Across the room from our beds, against the far wall, was a tall dresser which had a night-light on top of it.  At some point during the night I awoke.  I don't know exactly what woke me up but my guess would be a noise or possibly a dream.  Maybe I was just restless.  Who knows?  Either way, I sat-up in bed and looked across the room towards the dresser.  Moments after I sat up, from behind the dresser a shadowy figure, human-like in form, quickly darted up and just as quickly disappeared back, behind the dresser.  Immediately, I started screaming and my dad ran into the room, scooped me up, and took me into his and mom's room.  I was terrified and clung to him for dear life.  In order to get to my parent's room we had to pass the dresser and I was scared to death I might see the figure again.  To this day I'm not sure if what I experienced was real or a night terror.

According to Papalia & Feldman (2011) in A Child's World night terrors "appear to awaken (the child) abruptly early in the night from a deep sleep in a state of agitation.  The child may scream and sit up in bed, breathing rapidly and staring or thrashing about.  Yet he is not really awake, quiets down quickly and, and the next morning remembers nothing about the episode" (p. 240).  The only part of that definition that doesn't apply to what I experienced is the "remembers nothing" part.  I remember everything.


The story gets even creepier.  Fast forward 25 years and I'm having a conversation with my dad about my earliest childhood memories.  In doing so I recounted the shadowy figure story to him.  His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.  "You remember that night?  I remember that night" he said.  He said he remembered I was so scared that he was scared and that I pointed at the dresser as if something was really there.  Even after he looked behind the dresser to prove that nothing was there I was inconsolable and beside myself with fear.  Eventually, he brought me into my parent's bedroom to calm me down.  The fact that both and he and I remembered what seemed to be an inconspicuous, though clearly memorable, event bowled me over.  For years I had written off the terrifying memory as nothing but a dream but to hear my dad give an exact account of what happened gave me pause and further proved (to me) that what I experienced was real.

To further expound the idea that maybe this was something different from a night terror, my mom recently confessed that she felt there was something odd about the house in Monterrey.  The house itself was located on base and, as military housing typically is, was old.  Mom told me she would often see things out of the corner of her eyes such as shadows darting by.  As she told me this the chills and watery eyes I get when truly scared hit me.  To think that after all of these years being enthralled with all things ghostly I had actually experienced a haunting was too much to handle.  While I love to hear a good ghost story I really don't want to live a good ghost story.

Has anyone else experienced something not-of-this-world?  Or am I the only crazy three-year-old?