randoms

I was going to do a post about Noah's birthday. But I kind of can't. Our office right now is a tad bit... unorderly. Also, we're having a huge storm right now, and our lights are flickering. So no point in starting something I can't finish, right?

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We successfully moved out a bed yesterday from our guest room/office. Originally, we planned on keeping the mattress and box spring and just storing it in my grandparents' attic. It seemed perfectly fine. So Tuesday night, I moved out the mattress into our loft. I figured Noah would really get a kick out of it, since he loves to bounce on stuff. And he bounced his little heart out, while I kept cleaning. But after about 15 minutes, I noticed he quit. I also noticed there seemed to be a weird... um... stench. A very mildewy smell.
There's never ever been a weird smell in our guest room. People stay here all the time. I wash the sheets frequently, Lysol down the mattress every so often, and it's always smelled fresh in there. But this smell? Like stinky feet.
So I called up my mom to see when they had purchased that mattress for me. Her response: "Hmm... how old are you?" I told her 28. She thought for a moment and then answered, "Well, I guess it's been about 25 years." Blech. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to change them every 10 years or something like that. So yeah. It's time for a trip to the recycling center.

My dad and brother dropped off our (their? used to be mine too, and is again. soooo... my?) sofa bed. It's not quite the right color, but it serves its purpose. We're making that room into Noah's playroom, so he can watch movies, hang out on the couch, and have his own little space in there. If we have guests? We can just fold the bed out. And yes, I've thoroughly inspected the mattress. And I vacuumed and Lysol'd it. Just for good measure.

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My family has always been huge fans of Lucille Ball. My mom has her magnets and posters. My stepsister and I grew up collecting the VHS tapes with episodes on them. And my little sister did a post about her a few days ago. Since that whole "Lucy turns 100" weekend, I got myself hooked on watching the reruns again. What baffled me was that Brad never really watched her (or any of that old stuff, for that matter). So I made him watch a couple episodes with me (the ones with John Wayne), and we were seriously rolling. It was hilarious. And I'm so glad they still air it, because that woman had talent. I'm all for some reality, trashtastic crap tv sometimes. But at the end of the day, I'd much rather get myself some popcorn and watch a good "I Love Lucy" episode. Best antidepressent ever.

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I sort of jumped on the Weight Watchers bandwagon (anyone out there NOT on WW now??). It seriously feels like the entire blogosphere has joined WW. But really, I'm not officially on the program, I don't guess. See, my mom has been on and off of WW since I was a kid. She has the cookbooks and food calculator and all that stuff. And I swear Brad would shoot me if I said I wanted to pay money for something else fitness/weight loss related. So I'm doing it my way. I know my point limit, and I'm not calculating everything. It's kind of fun. I've only been on it for the last 48 hours, so I don't think I have any major weight loss announcements just yet, but I can certainly tell a difference just in habits. It makes me more aware of what I'm putting in my mouth... makes me ask myself "is it really worth the points?". The first night, I'm not gonna lie, I was hungry. But it got better. And now I fill up very quickly and only on healthy things. I still get to have an Oreo if I like. I just have to make sure it's really what I want to use my points on.
So we'll see. I'll let ya know if there's anything to share.

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My little sister spent the night with us last night. She had complained about her stomach hurting the night before and hadn't eaten all day. She figured it was something she ate, because she didn't feel sick sick. I agreed and shrugged it off as a food issue. Then it dawned on me...
From the time I was 10 to about 15, my life was pretty... interesting. Lots of changes, lots of drama, lots of feeling-a-loss-of-control-over-my-own-life type things. I never went anorexic or anything. However, when I get nervous or depressed or afraid? I can't eat. My stomach hurts, and I'm afraid anything I eat will make me sick. It's very weird. It's like my body just shuts down until I can gain a sense of normalcy and comfort again.
So here's the link... my little sister is about to enter into high school. A new, big high school. She's always gone to a very small school, so this is totally out of her element. On Tuesday (the day she started feeling bad), she had gone to some kind of orientation thing. That night, she felt sick and didn't eat hardly anything yesterday.
She's scared (rightfully so) about going to a new school and only knowing a handful of people. She's worried about looking nerdy and what others will think about her and if she'll get stuck in the cool crowd or the dorky crowd and all that completely normal teenage stuff.

In an attempt to help her out, I've declared Tuesday to be a Sister Day. I'm taking her to a fancy salon, and she's getting highlights and a new haircut (one we've already picked out that's super cute and easy to maintain).
We're going to do a makeover at home, where I'll give her some makeup tips and show her what colors are best with her eyes/skin/features. If we have time, I'm hoping to fit a manicure in. Because in all honesty, I would like one. :) We may do a little shopping or whatever. In any case, we're going to make sure she feels like the prettiest girl at school. Boost that self-confidence up a notch, y'know? Hopefully, this will help calm those "what do they think of me? how do I look? do I have a booger on my face?" thoughts. :)
Our grandmother was a total fashionista (and a fabulous shopper), and I'm pretty sure if she were here, our MomMom would be the one taking her to get all of this done for her first day of high school. So I guess I'm also partly acting in her place. You're welcome, MomMom. We'll try to do you proud.

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We've contacted Early Intervention for Noah. We got some info, and we're going to talk to his pediatrician at his next well check in two weeks to see what she says and recommends.

It's very disheartening for me. Not because I'm all worried something is "wrong" with my boy. I don't care either way about any of that. I really just want someone to tell me how to help my baby. If I knew what to do, I'd do it.
I feel like I've tried it all, and he's completely uninterested. If I try to get him to repeat words, he grins at me and babbles back like we're having a conversation. He "talks" plenty, just in his own language. He completely understands us, responds appropriately (for the most part), and doesn't act frustrated ever if he's trying to tell us something. I think my biggest issue is being one of those hovering moms, where I don't give him the chance to ask for things. I don't have a problem admitting it (that's the first step, right?). It's just natural for me. If I see he needs more water, I grab it. Same as I would if I saw a piece of trash on the floor... I see it and throw it away; problem solved. Unfortunately, in his case, I'm not "solving" anything. I'm setting him back. So I'm trying to be more intentional about waiting to let him tell me what he wants.

If he's not very far behind (he has to be more than 30%, according to the lady on the phone), then they'll just give me a few tips and tools to help me help him. And that's really all I want. Someone tell me how to help him, and I'll do it. If they tell me to relax, he's just fine? Well then that's great too. Whatever I need to do, that's what I'll do.