Apparently there is a down side of coffee, which is that I am wide! awake! when I should be sleeping. It isn’t as if I drank a whole lot of coffee: I have a 4-cup coffee pot, and I made “3” cups, and the 3 is in quotes because what they call 3 cups will fill a mug once with a little warm-up-your-cup slosh (or, depending on the morning, a little evaporate-into-a-sizzling-stain-on-the-bottom-of-the-pot slosh) left over for later, and that’s it. And I am not talking about a huge mega-mug, I am talking about a normal, even SMALLISH mug.

Do I have a mother-in-law story to tell here? Why, yes I do! She likes to talk about how her late husband used to “fib” to the doctor about how much coffee he drank. “He’d say, ‘3 cups,’ and I’d say, ‘Those must be MIGHTY BIG CUPS!’ He was filling it to the 6-cup mark on our coffee maker every single day!” She tells this anecdote once per visit, but then refers to it again almost daily when she sees me making coffee: “I just keep thinking about Lloyd saying he only drank 3 cups! Ha ha ha.” She, of course, is not a coffee drinker. Never could stand the stuff. Never saw the point, either. Why not just go to bed at a decent hour? She just doesn’t understand it at all—never has. And the taste! My stars.

I had my OB appointment today. Did you know there could be a POP QUIZ on Kegels? With GRADES? It was like that nightmare where you realize you forgot to attend classes all year and now that you’ve found the classroom you have to take a test.

The OB says that if I’m breastfeeding exclusively, I’m fine without any birth control at all for at least 12 weeks. But I have five children already, and there is the question of whether I want to bet the farm on a claim made by a guy who earns his money on a per-pregnancy basis.

If you know of any greater pleasure than sitting alone in a quiet house with a pint of Dove “Vanilla with a Chocolate Soul” ice cream, reading blogs and finding pictures of Erin’s and Sam’s new babies (congratulations, Erin! congratulations, Sam!), knowing that both the new Harry Potter book AND the next disc of Angel are standing by for the next nursing session, then don’t tell me—my heart can’t take it.

My August copy of Jane magazine (which, by the way, I hear is the last: the magazine has gone under) arrived this weekend, and in it was this:

Is that a sign or what? Oh, well, yes, it’s literally a sign. But I mean, is it, you know, a chorus-of-angels type sign? Answer: no. But! A neat coincidence.

I am gradually becoming resigned to the idea that we will be trying the running program. I remind you all that I am almost certain to ditch it, possibly the very first week, so if you’re looking for a bellwether (that’s the lead sheep; also, a good book by Connie Willis) you’d be better off finding someone else. But if you want someone who did the absolute minimum required to pass gym and after every session got a bag each of Doritos and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups to restore precious, precious electrolytes, then join up with me, my friend! And lo, we will pant and curse together! And then partake of delicious restorative substances! And then quit! and hide the receipt for the running shoes! and partake of even more delicious restorative substances, now that our time is not being taken up by that pesky running program!

Speaking of delicious restorative substances, please note that there is NO DIET taking place at this time. I reserve the right to add one later if I start feeling all awesome, but “One horrible torture at a time,” that’s my philosophy. If I am running, I am also eating pints of Dove ice cream (also if I STOP running). The goal right now is only–ONLY–to get the buns off the recliner for a brief session per day. That’s IT. Then it’s back to the recliner.

I am drinking coffee again! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I was feeling so, so sleepy every day, and finally I got it together enough to get the coffee pot out. (I put it away when I got pregnant. Coffee makes me feel barfy when I’m pregnant, and “being pregnant” already makes me feel as much barfy as I want to feel.) I made some yesterday morning and felt good all day. I drank more this morning (note to self: teach children to make coffee and bring it to me in bed) and feel great again. Yay coffee!

Two questions I am not asking Paul this morning, because I don’t know how such a conversation would begin:

1) What were you planning to use for birth control, dumbass, if I hadn’t pushed you away? When people asked us if we “knew how this kept happening,” they were kidding–but now I’m wondering if I need to sit you down for The Talk.

2) Did you seriously think you were going to score in the middle of the night with a nursing mother? You’re lucky I didn’t leave for a hotel. And that all your parts are still attached.

I don’t know if it’s just my RSS thing or everybody’s, but this morning I thought I had 157 new posts to read when in fact there were about 6 and all the others were reposts. Eighteen of them were supposedly mine. Something is on the fritz.

Here is an idea I can get behind: caffeinated Jell-o shots. This leads me to wonder: could other things be caffeinated? Muffins, for example? I suppose it’s a little risky with non-liquid things: if the caffeine isn’t fully dissolved, one muffin could get a much-too-high dose. Actually, now that I think of it, the novelty value is the only good thing here: it would be way easier just to take the caffeine pill with a drink of water, instead of pulverizing it, dissolving it, and having to eat it in something. Still—it’s an appealing idea.

Speaking of–but not because of–caffeine, I was so wired last night. I’d be lying down feeling all buzzy and trapped and uncomfortable and eyelids-wide-open, so I’d get up and mess around for awhile but be too tired to focus on anything productive. So then I’d lie back down and hardly be able to BREATHE I was so oppressed by the sheets and the cats and the husband. Finally I tried going to sleep in the recliner and that did the trick, but then Henry woke me up early and I couldn’t go back to sleep because the mildew in the bathroom was so irritating to me I had to spritz the hell out of it with Tilex RIGHT! THIS! SECOND! Now everyone else is starting to wake up, just as I’m thinking it would be reeeeeeeeally nice to lie down and go back to sleep.

Those of you doing the Couch to 5K thing with me should check yesterday’s comment section for a couple of good ideas: one, to use a podcast specially designed for the program; and two, to sign up for an autumn 5K race as a motivator. My own good idea–not in the comments section but LIVE in this very post!–solves one of my biggest problems, which was: When do I DO this? I don’t want to run in the pitch dark, but I also would rather not leave Paul with all five kids the second he gets home from work. So here is my brilliant idea: I’m going to bring Rob and William with me. This plan:

• gives Paul time with just the twins (assuming Henry is either snoozing or doing his usual Fuss Time) without the older boys (or, um, ME) clamoring for his attention
• gets the older boys some badly-needed exercise, perhaps even tiring them out enough that dinner will not be the giddy ordeal it often is
• gives me some time with the older boys
• makes the whole thing seem like more of a fun project, because they don’t yet know that exercise sucks and they should hate it, and possibly I will catch some of their attitude
• makes it a little harder for me to fink out
• means I can fit exercise in where I would normally have to be taking care of children, rather than where I would normally be blogging or eating ice cream.

Hey, speaking of running, I have weak arches. When I stand, my feet are totally flat. No bounce. This gets me out of having to run, right?

Oh, wait….Are you actually taking me up on it? I was planning to just TALK about doing the Couch to 5K program, but then stay comfortably in my computer chair eating Raisinets until I gradually lost interest and forgot all about it. This reminds me of when I was talking with another mother about how we “should” try the Weight Watchers Core program, and she was like, “Great idea! Let’s start Monday!,” and then I was like, “Uhhhhhhhhhhh” with an alarmed facial expression and the intense look of someone who is about to take flight, or at least that’s what she told me later I looked like.

Well, fine. FINE. I remember with the Weight Watchers thing that after I got over my initial panic, I was glad to have had someone push me out of the plane like that. Let’s not start it this coming week, though; let’s start the week after. I need time to calm my inner deer; also, time to bitch and moan. July 29th, then: that’s the first day of the first week for anyone who wants to join in.

Do you have a photo of your dear girl in a Never Crabby shirt from The Children’s Place? Send me the link (swistle at gmail and then the dot com, or you can put the link in my comments section, or if you don’t have it posted you can email me the photo) and I’ll post a list. Here are two photos of Elizabeth modeling hers:

[Edited to add links to the posts I was updating, because that was getting confusing. Also to change the spelling of Raisinets, now that I have a bag to refer to.]

Henry is the first of my five children to not like the vibrating bouncy seat. The other four practically lived in it, and he’s all, “This is HELLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!”

Today is Day 17 of my mother-in-law failing to mention that she plans to visit us in October.

The comments you guys made on the wedding rant made me want to propose to each and every one of you. With so many of us awesome people being all rational about weddings, where do all those crazy people get their ideas? I suppose we’re all too polite to stomp them down.

And the baby names discussion in yesterday’s post is So! Much! Fun! I wanted to reply to ALL the comments with paragraph after paragraph after paragraph, but I think of the comments section as YOURS, and I didn’t want to hog it. Suffice it to say, that particular comments section is one of the best ever, and I think we should talk about baby names many more times in the future using some of those comments as starting points.

Thanks for all the answers to questions about chocolate-covered cherries, eight-year-olds and US Weekly, alcohol soreness, and men’s shorts.

• I contacted one of the 4-pound-box cherry places, but they say they don’t ship chocolate-covered products in the summer, which makes sense. She said to call in September. In the meantime, I’m going to check out the local health-food store, the Harry & David stuff at Target, and I’m also going to use Raisinets as a substitute.
• I told Rob that US Weekly was a magazine for grown-ups, and he didn’t persist, so I left it at that. If it comes up again, I’m going to use the idea about asking him what he likes about the magazine and going from there.
• I tried drinking tons of water and then drinking alcohol, because the dehydrated theory made the most sense to me. I still got all sore. Also, I don’t get much of a buzz: I get a funny feeling, and I wait for it to be over. My new theory is that for whatever reason, my body’s chemistry doesn’t respond to alcohol in the usual way. The upcoming mother-in-law visit makes me really, really, really wish this wasn’t the case. Luckily, my body over-responds to sugar, so I’ll just stock up on candy to hide in my room.
• I’m going to Target soon, maybe this evening or maybe this weekend, and I’m going to buy Paul a sampling of shorts to try.

Oh, and also thanks for the advice about getting Edward’s little paws off the DVD player! My favorite is the one about, you know, putting the DVD player out of reach. I, um, hadn’t thought of that. It goes under the TV! It can’t be MOVED!

It was good to hear I’m not the only one who dreads the 6-week mark. I shouldn’t have used the words “HAVE to”—Paul isn’t waiting there with a calendar and a mean look on his face. But when it’s been six weeks since the birth, and there was a time before the birth when nothing was happening either, I do feel like trying to see things from his point of view. Or TRYING to try—I’m not having much luck seeing it as anything except, “Oh my god, you are not seriously interested in that.”

I tried the Dove 2-in-1 Moisturizing Shampoo and Conditioner, and I really like it. It goes up there with my top three.

Did you notice that The Children’s Place has put their clearance down another notch? Last weekend I went to the physical store (as opposed to shopping online as I did the last time we talked about this) and got Elizabeth a pair of the funny wide-legged capris for this summer and another pair for next summer, a pair of really cool embellished shorts, and the two raglan shirts (one in pansy and one in bubble) that I almost bought online. I also bought Rob (because of handmedowns, I guess I should say “bought Rob and William and Edward and Henry”) a bunch of pairs of shorts. I would have bought way way more (I had a 20% off coupon to use, too), but there was very little left.

Hey, if I wanted to do the Couch to 5K running program, would anyone else want to do it with me? I like company, even if it’s only online. On the other hand, you’d have to be prepared that I might fink out on the second day. Seriously, maybe even the first day. I might never even get around to the first day. But if I DID—would you want to do it, too?

Edited to add this relevant and interesting article by The Baby Name Wizard: “Congratulations! It’s a…Uh Oh.”

Sarah mentioned in her post today that she and her husband have a really easy time choosing girl baby names, but a hard time choosing boy baby names. I commented that I think it’s because boy names are REALLY DIFFICULT—either too common or too out-there. It occurs to me, though, that not everyone would agree with that: perhaps some people find boy names easy and girl names impossible.

So please be so kind as to vote: Is it harder to choose a name for a boy baby, or harder to choose a name for a girl baby? You don’t have to have named any babies at all to venture an opinion. And please feel free to elaborate at length, as baby naming is one of my FAVORITE SUBJECTS IN THE WHOLE WORLD and I will be hanging on your every word.

I am crabby today because of a discussion my mom had with one of her friends about weddings. The friend claimed that if you attend a wedding, you have to spend on a wedding gift AT LEAST the amount the couple spent on your food. That is, at a $50/plate reception, if you and your husband and two children attend, you have to spend a minimum of $200 on a wedding gift.

No. The couple plans their own wedding and pays for it in whatever way they have worked out, and those costs don’t have to be reimbursed IN ANY WAY by the guests.

Wedding presents are in fact COMPLETELY SEPARATE from the issue of wedding expenses. The cost of the wedding present is determined by the guest’s finances and by what the guest feels is the right amount to spend on a wedding present for this particular couple. That’s IT. There is no requirement that the guest factor in how extravagant the catering was, or how much it cost to rent the reception location, or how big a mortgage the marrying couple has, or ANYTHING ELSE.

Otherwise, it would have to go the other way, too. The wedding guests would have to subtract from the gift budget the amount spent on travel expenses to get to the wedding, and also subtract how much it cost them to buy their wedding clothes, and also subtract any wages they lost by missing work to attend the wedding. And if the guest had expenses higher than what the marrying couple spent per guest, the marrying couple would have to rush out to purchase more expensive food for that guest. I don’t think this is a road the wedding couple wants to start going down. And if they DO want to go down that road, I am WAITING. With a BASEBALL BAT! BRING IT ON!!!

I do have sympathy for both sides. My brother got married last summer, and the cost of a wedding is…well, it’s appalling. If you want people to sit down and eat, holy crap you are SCREWED. My brother and his then-fiancee went out sampling various catering options, and they came home stunned and glassy-eyed, saying “You can get better food through a DRIVE-THRU than you can get catered for $40 a plate!” And of course there’s also the flowers and the photography and the music and the favors and the liquor. But! All of these expenses are purely optional, and none of them belong to the guests.

Guests could stand to learn a lesson or two about “purely optional” and “not belonging to the guests” themselves. I have heard guests complaining that it is “tacky” not to have an open bar, or to have “only wine.” I’ve also heard guests claim that the marrying couple should pay for their plane tickets, and I’ve even heard guests say “My presence is their present,” which, oh my god.

Perhaps if the marrying couple agrees to stop whining about what guests “owe” them, guests will kindly stop acting as if the marrying couple is in any way obligated to do anything at the wedding other than get married. It is not, after all, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get smashed at someone else’s expense.” If the guests think the wedding should be about overpriced food and booze instead of about being there when a couple gets married, the guests can choose not to attend a wedding at which the focus is on the ceremony. Of course, the marrying couple MAY serve expensive food! And how very very nice of them to choose to do so, and the guests should be pleased. But must the guest then choose a more expensive present? No. …Wait, I think we’ve been here before.

Let’s review, shall we, now that we seem to be going in circles anyway? The wedding is not about the couple scoring lots of loot, or getting paid back for their wedding expenses. Nor is the wedding about free food and liquor and entertainment for the guests. The wedding is about GETTING MARRIED. Neither side is obligated to put out a lot of cash for the other side. And if either side chooses to do so, the other side is not obligated to balance the scales.

My mother-in-law made us a cookbook as a wedding present. It would do nothing but gather deep, deep dust except that when she visits she asks to see it, and then pores over her own recipes talking about how great they are and how much Paul loves them. Reminder: they are not; he does not.

This morning Paul wanted to make cinnamon rolls, and he knew there was a recipe in that book, so he got it out. He got the dough made (the recipe just said “dough” so he made a usual bread machine batch), and then got to the part where you make the topping—which is made in the bottom of the pan, since you flip the rolls out upside-down when they’re done. The recipe says to “put in butter and brown sugar.” No quantities. Then there is a sentence about how she’s sorry but she just does this by eye. Well, how about a goddamn estimate, then? Is it a teaspoon of butter or is it two sticks? Is it a tablespoon of brown sugar or is it the whole pound-size box?

It is not a surprise to me that we would discover this problem in her recipes. My mother-in-law scoffs at people who MEASURE things, and has great admiration for anyone who can put food together creatively—such as herself. I admire people who can cook without recipes, too, but I also admire people who cook WITH them, especially when they get good results, and when they can pass those good results on to other cooks. My own personal top rating goes to people who start with recipes in order to learn, and then go branching off from there—and who DON’T SCOFF.

Here is what I think: you either respect recipes or you don’t, and you can’t play it both ways. If you like to think of yourself as the “I just cook from my heart and it always turns out PERRRRRFECT, I just don’t UNDERSTAND people who have to use RECIPES, isn’t it GLORIOUS when you finally become a good enough cook that you don’t NEED them” type, like my mother-in-law, that’s fine—but then you don’t get to pass your recipes down to the next generation as if a recipe is NOW suddenly a deeply important thing. “Cinnamon Rolls: YOU know! Butter! Sugar! Dough! Jesus, figure it out!” “Meatloaf: Well…you MAKE A MEAT LOAF! Duh!” “Chicken Soup: Chicken! Soup! Put ’em together, moron!” Great cookbook, there, Mother-In-Law. You should shop that to publishers. You can call it “Any Idiot Can Use A Recipe. Except, Apparently, Me.”

Blogging is light on the weekends, which makes me feel lonely and bleak. Perhaps others of you feel just as lonely and bleak, and we can use this time to solve the world’s problems. Such as:

1) Do you know where I can get more chocolate-covered dried cherries? I finished TWO entire two-pound bags, and now Amazon.com isn’t selling them anymore, and when I looked up the brand (Traverse Bay Fruit Co.) I found information about dried fruit but not about CHOCOLATE-COVERED dried fruit, and now that I know of its existence I don’t know if I can go on without it. I’ve tried Dilettante chocolate-covered fruits and those are pretty good too, but what I want is pretty much exactly like Raisinets but cherry-based instead of grape-based.

2) If I drink alcohol, my muscles start hurting about five minutes later. Does that…MEAN something?

3) Rob was looking at my US Weekly magazine. He was giving special attention to the “Bikini Special!” section. Rob is EIGHT YEARS OLD. Are we seriously THERE already? And am I supposed to….I don’t know, STOP it? Like, hide my US Weekly magazines?

4) The men in your life—where do they buy their shorts? Paul has been wearing the same shorts for about ten years now, and it occurs to me that he’s looking…out of date. But I’m not exactly hip to what the young people are wearing these days.

Bonus points if you can answer all four.