Safe!

The pictures from the Great TV Computer Fry of 2006 are safe. Everything seems to be in working order except the motherboard which Andre had to replace. I have come to discover during the GTCF of 2006 that I really know nothing about computers despite being married to a computer geek and having been raised by a computer geek. As Andre was putting the computer back together and found the pictures were OK, I said with great relief, "Phew! So the memory didn't fry along with the motherboard?" He looked at me like I was a complete moron and said, "Uh, yeah, but the pictures aren't stored in the memory, they're stored on the hard drive." I shot back with a witty, "So why do they call it memory then, huh? Huh?" And he disdainfully began to try to explain what each part of a computer does. My eyes instantly glazed over, as they apparently have been doing ever since my dad started giving me the same lecture 20-odd years ago.

Truth be told, as long as I can talk to my computer friends with the magic box attached to the TV, I really don't want to know how it works. This body can only handle so much geekery. I will play Star Wars trivial pursuit, I will not retain the difference between memory and hard drive. I can't help it. Don't lecture me. And stop sighing with exasperation, you know you're doing it.

Meltdown.

No, not Fiona. The TV computer*. I don't know what's wrong with it, but from Andre's various mutterings, I have gleaned that it is bad and various things must be purchased to make it run again. So, I am using the LWPCOISIPWIFBTBINLW (Laptop Whose Power Cord OnlyIntermittently Sends It Power Which Is Frustrating Because The Battery Is No Longer Working). I'm just crossing my fingers that the TV Computer's memory didn't fry along with the motherboard because ALL of Amelia's pictures are stored on there. Did we back up with a DVD? No, we did not. Why? Because we are stupid.

*The TV Computer is the one that's hooked up to our big TV in the playroom. I thought I was going to say something amusing about it down here in the footnote, but there's really nothing funny about it. Computers are serious business, people.

Feeling a little blue

Not a navy blue or anything, just a little tinge of blue. Back when I first thought about quitting work to stay home with the girls, I envisioned our carefree days of having picnics in the park, trips to the zoo, the special treat of going to the ice cream shop, quiet days at home just snuggling and reading stories while we sipped hot cocoa as it rained outside.

I forgot to plan for things like the stomach flu. For days when one kid pukes in the high chair and while you're cleaning up that one, the other kid pukes on the couch. And then gets mad when you won't give her a tuna sandwich. For nights spent trying to get the baby to sleep only to woken back up again when the four year old pukes all over herself in bed.

I didn't envision a four year old who was still working on recovering from the flu to throw tantrums so violent that they scared me. I never thought I'd be the person who had to pull the car over because my kid had taken off her seatbelt in the car and was screaming in my ear and trying to pull my hair.

I didn't think I'd ever call my husband at work and ask pitifully when he was coming home because I was at my wit's end.

I'm OK. We're OK. Just a little bit blue.

The week in review

I haven't been blogging much lately, I know, I'm sorry. My internet time has suffered in the past few weeks. Firstly, Amelia has decided that she is a mountain goat. I can't just put her down and let her crawl around the room randomly eating paper anymore. No, that was the easy phase. Now she'd decided to up her risk level and climb on top of the furniture to see if we're hiding paper from her on say, the back of the sofa, or the top of the shelves. If I leave her alone for a second to throw the laundry in the dryer (this makes me sound productive and multi-tasking) or say, check in on my blogroll (this makes me sound neglectful and lazy) she immediately trots over to Fiona's desk and climbs on top of it. The better to reach for the big, scary, dangerous and teetery shelves or the hot, hot, lamp of burnitude.

Secondly, I've been trying to do more reading. I was missing the days when I'd read a book every couple of days and needed to have a good big binge. In the past couple of weeks I've gone through a whole stack of my backlog. It was like when you take a warm loaf of homemade bread out of the oven and tear off big chunks that you can barely swallow before you're stuffing more in your mouth. Oh, you don't do that? Um, me neither.

So, here are some accumulated stories from the past week:

• Fiona, as we all sat on the couch together, looked disdainfully at her sister and said, "If I was a baby right now, I would be a MUCH better baby than Amelia."

• I tried to get Amelia into her car seat the other day and she bucked and fought and put up a big fuss. Oh, poor thing, she's tired, I thought, I'm sure she'll fall asleep any minute. Then she cried for what seemed like forever, only falling asleep when we were two minutes away from our destination. She woke up as soon as the car stopped and I bundled her inside. Only then did I notice the enormous, egg-shaped Weeble that Fiona had stuck inside her hood that had been pressing into her back the entire car ride. Yay, I'm such a good mother!

• I went to the kindergarten open house at Fiona's soon-to-be school. I love it. It's such a nice, small neighborhood school. The classes were small, the kids were having a fantastic time while we were there and I loved both of the all-day kindergarten teachers. They had lots of parent helpers in the class today and it really makes me want to find something work-wise that would allow me to volunteer once in a while. I can't wait for Fiona to start, but then I get a little teary thinking about it. The supply list just about pushed me over the edge. Elmer's Glue! (For my KINDERGARTNER.) Box of Crayola Markers! (For my enormous public-school attending kindergartner.) One box Kleenex. (For the whole class of kindergartners to wipe their snotty little noses). One backpack. (To put on my great big, grown-up kindergartner.) I guess I still have six months to work myself up about it, I'll save some of the kindergarten angst for later.

• Andre won the Oscar competition for, like, the millionth year in a row. I think he must be some sort of mutant whose only super power is the ability to predict the Oscars.

I guess that's it. Amelia's chewing on a power cord, so I guess my reprieve is over.

Fat Tuesday

To help show New Orleans that we were thinking of them on their first post-Katrina Mardi Gras, we held a little celebration here at the house. As you can see, Amelia was more than willing to flash us for necklaces.



Note pigtails.