1) Breakfast of Champions:

2) Say to self repeatedly, “Mother-in-law coming in six days, six days, six days,” until frothy, panic-like consistency is achieved.

3) Take “Before” picture:

4) Toss cat out of closet.

5) Bring large kitchen trash can into bathroom for “sorting.”

6) Put laundry basket outside bathroom for things that need to live elsewhere.

7) Put a towel in the bathtub so I can put things in there without them getting damp.

8) Leave toilet lid up so I remember not to put things on there (we’re a one-toilet household).

9) Take everything out. Clean. Put less-than-everything back in. Throw away, among other things:

• retainer, last worn age 12 (saved out of lasting fear of orthodontist, who was so very adamant about NOT LOSING THE RETAINER)
• box of matches with only 2 matches left (matches added to fuller box)
• two nail-polish-removing canisters, too full of removed nail polish to work anymore
• incense, from when we used to use incense
• bottle of Nair–WHY?
• liquid eyeliner–WHY?
• mascara marked 2005 (I’d read that mascara should be labeled so you’d know if there was a good reason it was so disappointingly clumpy and dry)
• three caps, containers unknown
• sixteen eyeshadows in colors like “urban” (harsh, cynical blue) and “island shimmer” (pale shimmery seafoam green)–WHY OH WHY?

10) Take “After” picture:

11) Change clothes to get rid of bothersome lemony-clean fragrance.

I still need to deal with the shoe-holder full of hair accessories I never use (hanging on left wall of closet), but that’s going to have to wait for a fresh breakfast. And I need to deal with the medicine cabinet and the under-the-sink cabinet–but again, live to fight another day.

I don’t think the photos tell the entire grueling story, but is it interesting enough for ME to try to tell what the photos left out? Like, you see that white box on the top shelf? I put stuff like contraceptives in there–anything I would really rather my mother-in-law not see. I’m 5’9″ and I had to stand on tip-toe to get that box up there, so my 5′ mother-in-law would need a really good excuse. “Needed an aspirin” won’t cut it.

See the bin of bath toys? I dumped them all out and scrubbed the bin.

I got rid of several of the empty tissue boxes I was using for storage, and replaced them with sturdier cardboard or plastic boxes.

I dealt with the stuff you can’t see below the bottom shelf (extra toilet paper, bucket of cleaning supplies, baby bath seat, empty toilet paper rolls, spilled q-tips, cat fur), and the stuff in the little white cupboard (lower right, holding up the bin of bath toys).

I took away the Cat Towel we use to cover our towels, and it’s down in the washing machine.

After emptying the kitchen trash, I took the trash can outside and scrubbed off several layers of OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT? from the outside and inside.

In short: I did a lot of work today, and I am glad, and I feel that much readier for the impending visit. But also: I am in need of a reward such as a second plate of chocolate-chip cookies, and there are no more cookies, nor are there any more chocolate chips in the house. Hm…maybe Oatmeal Scotchies?

Good news for those of you who, like me, have been missing Joyce Slaton’s column Tending Violet column over at BabyCenter: she’s back, writing for their Momformation blog. I am trying not to read the posts too fast, because I want to make them last.

I got my Avon order! I got the Slick Tint for Lips, which I thought was a barely-tinted lip balm but it’s more like a very sheer lipstick. Well, maybe that’s what a barely-tinted lip balm IS. Anyway, I love it. I have to look in the mirror when I put it on (if it were a barely-tinted lip balm, I wouldn’t have to look), but then it sort of ABSORBS into my lips and makes them look like they’re just awesome like that. It isn’t wet like a lip gloss, so I use a plain lip balm over the top. I got it in Glossy Wine, and it was only a dollar, so I’m going to order the other two colors too.

I got one each of all the other lip balms they offer, and they all seem good. They go on sale for 69 cents, but I paid 99 cents each and I’m not sorry. The thing is, I LOVE sales–but of course when SOME stuff is on sale, OTHER stuff isn’t. I was going to order Twig-colored lip plumping lipstick, but by the time I stopped dithering it wasn’t on sale anymore, and so I didn’t order it. When it goes on sale again I’ll order it–but then the other things I want won’t be on sale. (If any of you ordered the Twig, tell me: is it BROWN-brown? or red-brown? or what?)

I got the Soft Musk cologne I used to wear in high school. Man, that brings me back. I don’t think I’ll wear it much, because it isn’t in my current Expensive French Perfumes style, and “musk” is kind of a gross word–but it was fun to sniff it again, and I’ll wear it when I’m feeling nostalgic.

I bought the Advance Techniques Smoothing shampoo and conditioner, and they are perfectly nice. They do as good a job as any smoothing products I try–which is to say that they do NOT make my hair into the flowing river of gloss I hope for, but they do make it easier to comb, and less springy and flyaway.

I bought Nailwear nail enamel in Wink and in Sheer French Pink, but I haven’t used them yet. Ditto for the Nail Experts Instant Gel Cuticle Remover and the Nail Experts Healthy Shine. When I ordered them, I don’t think I was fully comprehending how unlikely it was that I was going to do my nails anytime soon. But when I do, I’ll be READY!

I bought the True Color Eyeshadow Quad in Blushing Raisins and in Fresh Cut Greens. I love the name “Fresh Cut Greens.” (“Blushing Raisins” could use some work.) I’ve tried the second-lightest green and the two darkest raisins so far, and I like them all pretty well. The one from the Greens pack was like a pale green with gold shimmer in it. The ones from the Raisins pack were a barely-noticeable purple with highly-noticeable glitter, and a medium shade that matched my undereye circles. So far, the greens are winning–I don’t think the raisins are right for me, but they’re fun to try. I think I’ll get the more purpley purples next time.

I bought the Hydrofirming cream in both Day and Night versions. They’re creamy and yum, and it’s fun to take a dip from a glass jar instead of a squeeze from a plastic bottle–makes me feel all fancy and rich. They’re almost TOO thick: I can still feel it if I touch my skin later. But when winter comes, that’s exactly what I’ll be looking for for my poor parched hide.

So! A successful first order, the kind that leaves me leafing through the thoughtfully-provided catalog, wondering what I’ll order NEXT time. I do want the Twig lipstick, and I want to try the VitaMoist face cream and the Silicone Glove hand cream. I want to try some of the Anew stuff, because I’ve heard good things about it, and I want to try more of the nail polish and lipstick colors as I get a better idea of how the colors in the catalog (online or paper) correspond to the actual colors.

Did you like your stuff? [Edited to add: If you haven’t ordered but want to, don’t feel like you’ve missed the boat: Lee says she gets the same commission on the online orders no matter when they’re placed, so there’s no deadline as I’d previously thought.]

Hi! And welcome to TMI Weekend! I’d like to remind Paul and my parents that they have agreed promised solemnly sworn sworn a sacred vow promised not to read any posts I haven’t authorized them to read. I do not authorize this one, nor should ANYONE who knows me in person read it. Go back! Seriously! Don’t read it! I mean it! Go away!

In a recent unpleasant talk with Paul about our sex life, I agreed it was a reasonable request that I be more tactful in turning down physical affection. I agreed it was reasonable that I allow hugs and kisses–even gropings–to occur without assuming they were preliminaries to larger moves. I agreed that my natural inclination to swat wildly at invading hands while yelling, “OH MY GOD YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!” could hurt someone’s feelings.

But do you know what the actual outcome of this discussion was? Apparently I created the impression that I was no longer allowed to say no to physical affection. Last night (tonight, really, but now we’re in the a.m. part) Paul gave me the Modified Silent Treatment (short, distant, “mm”-type answers to remarks; lack of eye contact; palpable silence; lying a different way in bed; not falling asleep within seconds as usual) after I willingly allowed hugs, kisses, and gropings during the day–but then wouldn’t Go All The Way that night.

That is SO DUMB. I mean, the reason I had been turning down the preliminaries is that they always lead to the main event, and so I was nipping things in the bud when I knew I wasn’t interested or willing to pretend to be interested. He said he didn’t want things nipped in the bud, so I said fine. And now he’s mad at me for not saying yes to EVERYTHING. Is this or is this not High School Boy behavior? They take it farther and farther and farther until you say no. It’s exhausting, and it’s GUARANTEED to result in a “no” SOMEWHERE, and so then it’s followed by sulking. Oh, did you try to steal third when the base coach was doing that no-no-no thing with his hands? SO SORRY YOU GOT TAGGED OUT. Next time don’t try to steal third against the signal. Idiot.

Mother Nature in her patchy wisdom has caused me to be absolutely asexual while I’m breastfeeding. Sex is nothing but irritating friction to me right now. Since we’re using condoms and spermicide and KY, it’s MESSY irritating friction. Since I’m up in the night with children, it’s messy irritating friction WHEN I’D RATHER BE SLEEPING. And since this is the way these things go, when I’m thinking, “Okay, let’s get this over with,” it goes on FOREVER.

It doesn’t even do anything for me emotionally. Is there anything more ridiculous than someone else’s sexual passion, if you’re not feeling it yourself? It’s like being around drunk people when you’re sober. Worse: when there seems to be some expectation that you will ACT drunk even when you’re sober, or that in fact the drinking was YOUR OWN IDEA because you are SO THIRSTY. Bleah.

[Edited to add: Go congratulate Jen at Never Melts–she had her little baby boy!]

I took my coffee this morning like medicine. I hovered near the pot as it brewed–waiting, waiting. I drank it too hot and too fast.

We’re having Sleep Issues again. You know what that’s like. “IT WILL NEVER END! IT WILL ALWAYS BE THIS WAY!!” Right now it’s Elizabeth and Henry, both. Elizabeth wakes, cries out for 5 seconds, then goes back to sleep–ten times per night. Then sometimes it’s more crying, and we have to make the call: go in? or hope she goes back to sleep? She won’t go back to sleep if we go in, unless we bring her to our bed, and then she’ll toss and turn and I won’t be able to sleep. Last night she was shrieking so frantically, we brought her in with us. That was around midnight, and I knew the night was going to be downhill from there. I woke up this morning with her face about an inch from mine, her little eyes peering perkily into mine. I could hardly see her past the undereye baggage.

Henry is waking twice a night or more, not the same times so I’m not adjusting to it the way I could when he consistently woke at, say, 1:30 and at 4:00. He’s SCREAMING and raging, starving. He nurses restlessly, thrashing. Is he teething? gassy? I change his diaper and he yells so loud he wakes Elizabeth on another floor of the house. He goes back to sleep. I go back to sleep. And Elizabeth cries out.

And of course the coffee I’m drinking to make ME feel better could be making HENRY worse. And of course bringing Elizabeth into our room when she cries could be making HER worse. Isn’t it nice to be plagued with self-doubt EVERY SINGLE MINUTE?? Become a mother and enjoy the adventure!

My mom recently lost some weight. She’s always been thin, but now she’s noticeably thinner.

Her friends are having anxiety attacks over it. I saw one friend in action this past week, and it was not a pretty sight. They were both trying on clothes to show me what they’d bought that day. The friend started off with some self-deprecating pseudo-praise: “You look so great in those pants, I can’t keep them for myself. I can’t even try them on. I can’t even stand next to you.” Then insults: “You have a BOY body now!” and “You look EMACIATED in those pants!” Then back to the self-pitying admiration: “You just look fabulous in EVERYTHING now. I look terrible. I’m fat. I should lose weight.” Then back to the insults: “I think you’re actually TOO THIN for that outfit!” and “No wonder you keep getting sick: you’re TOO THIN.” Being in the same room with this was exhausting for me–and my mom had been listening to it all day long.

On a related topic, I’ve been getting jittery as I anticipate my mother-in-law’s digs about weight. She mostly goes after Paul. When I finally said sharply [TOTAL LIE–I was meek and quavery] that I thought he was handsome and I liked the way he looked, she was unfazed: “If you think he’s handsome NOW, you REALLY would have thought he was handsome without all that weight on him!” (“All that weight” is not the amount of weight it sounds like. She would say that about 5 pounds.) She also likes to ask me how much weight I gained with the last pregnancy, and have I lost all of it yet.

Talking about both situations the other day, my mom and I thought that what we need is something to say when people are talking about weight in a way that’s uncomfortable for us. Here are the restrictions:

1) It has to be non-rude, non-confrontational–something total chickens can say. My mom and I are both too polite for our own good, and we’re not going to be able to say “Shut it, bitch” even if we agree it’s totally called for.

2) Also, neither of us can talk Psych Talk: e.g., “You know, Kathy, it makes me feel uncomfortable when you…” etc. We don’t want something that will lead to FURTHER DISCUSSION–particularly further discussion about how the other person feels.

3) It has to be just as applicable when the other person is nagging about weight loss as when the aggressor is nagging about weight gain. We’re looking for something more along the lines of Tessie’s Policy.

4) And it should be something we can use even when the other person is talking about SOMEONE ELSE’S weight gain/loss.

5) It has to be something you can say to someone you genuinely love: a best friend, a spouse, a mother–not just something you’d use to shut up a mother-in-law or an annoying coworker. But it should also be something you could say to shut up a mother-in-law or annoying coworker.

6) Okay, I guess it doesn’t have to be one single remark applicable to all situations. But any help on the topic of “How do I tell him/her to shut the hell up about weight, without saying ‘Shut the hell up about weight’?” would be excellent.

Wisdom of the Internet–ACTIVATE!

(I also did this for Month One and Month Two.)

I don’t do it on purpose (that is, I change “when he needs it,” not on a schedule), but we use almost exactly the same number of diapers per day: it’s almost always six diapers. For “cost per month” purposes I like to round that up to 200 diapers per month–just to be on the generous side. So in months three and four (i.e., from the day he turned 2 months old until the day he turned 4 months old), we’ll estimate that Henry used 400 diapers.

I buy Target brand diapers, and Henry is still in size 1 (skinny butt). I can buy a package of 112 size 1 diapers for $10.60.

Math time! Price of $10.60 divided by 112 diapers in the package, is .0946 cents per diaper–approximately 9 and 1/2 cents each. Multiply the per-diaper cost times the 400 diapers used in two months, and we get $37.86 for two months of diapers–or $18.93 per month to put this particular baby in disposables.

And we didn’t spend that much. We used more like 360 diapers, as I mentioned, and I saved about $4 with a store coupon and a freak clearance. With those things figured in, we spent closer to $15 per month.

How ’bout a little changeroo for a certain deserving baby?

Here’s the answer to the Who’s the Fatty? game (this time I left the answer on the lower right corner of the picture instead of cropping it out):

Can you believe it? I cannot. I looked and looked and LOOKED at that photo, and couldn’t even GUESS who might be the plus-size model. Not one of those girls has a forearm wider than her…”hindarm”? “Upper arm,” I guess.

This is the sort of thing that makes me want to go break a few necks, you know? Or hindarms.

Here’s something that keeps that mood going: Illustrated BMI Categories, by Shapely Prose. It’s mesmerizing and and nauseating to see what doctors call “morbidly obese,” “obese,” “overweight,” “normal,” and “underweight.”

One of these women is a “plus-sized” model! Guess which one! If you click the picture you can see it larger.

For guessing purposes: there is a back row of six standing models, a middle row of four models sitting on a step, and a front row of three models sitting on the floor.

I’ll reveal the answer later.

Click photo to see it PLUS-SIZED

Listen, I am not DIETING. I’m just thinking all the time about food and when to eat it.

Here is one of my many food issues (do any of us have fewer than, like, a dozen?): I don’t plan what I’m going to eat ahead of time, and so by the time I’m thinking about what I’m going to eat, I’m on the prowl. My mind flickers over the possibilities (carrots and salads are quickly psshh’d aside) and latches tightly to “shortbread cookies with vanilla ice cream.” YES.

So here is what I’m trying. Let’s call this Attempt The First. I’m deciding ahead of time what the next thing I eat will be, and then when I’m hungry I eat it. So in the morning, I have a glass of water, because of nursing and because that’s a good way to begin anyway. Then I go about the day, and when I get hungry, the first thing I plan to have is coffee with Splenda and fat-free half-and-half. Don’t tell me what they do to make it fat-free, because I don’t want to know. I assume someone lost a soul over it.

Then, while I’m drinking the coffee, enjoying the way my knee now feels like jittering up and down rapidly, I decide what I’ll eat next. I don’t like bananas, but they’re filling, and they’re a good choice for earlier in the day when I have less food despair. So let’s say I choose banana. I finish the coffee and go back to whatever I was doing. As I get hungrier, I think, “When I want something to eat, I can have a banana”–and I may have it whenever I want it, but I see if I can go just a LITTLE longer. Normally, pushing it too long would make me grab something like ice cream, but because I have in my mind that it will be a banana, it makes me feel it MUST be a banana. (This part may fail later. We’ll have to see.)

I get hungry enough, and I eat the banana. While I am eating the banana and the hunger is low again, I decide what I’ll eat next. Two scrambled eggs, say. And so I start again: I MAY have the eggs immediately if I want them–but I see if I can go a little longer. When I’m hungry, or feel like my resolve is weakening with regard to the bag of chocolate chips in the cupboard, I eat the eggs.

And so on.

In a bigger-picture way, I am allowing brownies. I don’t PLAN to eat the brownies, the way I plan the banana. But I say to myself, “Oh, yes, you MAY have brownies! Yes, you may! But see if you can wait a LITTLE LONGER before baking them!” This is the kind of thing that may come crashing down on my head (“Nope! Can’t wait!” *GLOM*)–or perhaps it will keep me from rebelling against my own rules the way I usually do with diets.

I’m on my third day of this, so it’s too early to say if it will work long-term or even short-term, but it’s working great for these first few days of trying not to eat QUITE so much.