Here is what I've been doing:
1) Went to two job interviews. A follow-up interview is later this week. And (o! happy day!) I got more freelance work. A logo job! Yay!
1a. Having some success on the job front was totally an unexpected but very welcome event. This, of course, made me freak out about whether I should go back to work full-time or part-time or what have you. Even though I don't have a job offer I did lose lots of sleep over this question. I still haven't totally decided but since the thought of working at a great firm and not being broke fills me with the utmost joy I think I'm becoming more comfortable with working full-time.
1b. I've been doing a mad dash trying to get Lil' D on the waiting list at day cares around town. Child Development Centers, as they are called now, are usually run by churches in the 'Ham and the waiting lists are long. Especially at the good ones. I really want her to go to the one I went to as a wee tot. I have the best memories of swim classes and story time and being line leader. I think she will really love it. That Lil' D is one very social butterfly.
2) Trying to find somewhere to move.
Did I mention we live above a confirmed meth addict? Who may possibly be in jail right now?
But yeah, I do. More on that later. AFTER I move. Did I also mention no one rents houses in B'ham? And that we have to be out by March 31st?
3) Prepping for my Lenten fast of sugar, processed foods, dairy, gluten, corn, and soy by eating as much sugar, processed foods, dairy, gluten, corn, and soy as my stomach can hold. I'm doing a 6 week event of "healing my gut function" for Lent since I figured everyone goes along with whatever you say you are doing during Lent without much hassle. It's a long and complicated process - I'll explain more later.
4) Got into an extended and unexpected mommy war argument with complete strangers (on a Facebook page that encourages play for children) over an innocuous study that basically said formula babies have no more chance of growing into ill dullards than their breastfed brethren. Man - I completely underestimated the vitriol the breast milk gestapo has for any study that makes formula look slightly better than rat poison.
The woman who posted this short article had the nerve to be happy with this study since her children are adopted and had thusly been raised on rat poison, excuse me, formula. Mind you the study did not say formula was better than breast milk. Or that everyone should stop breastfeeding and switch to formula. Just that should your baby have to go the formula route they won't suffer a horrible fate because of your "choice" (ha! choices!). Of course, everyone freaked out that this would mean less support for breastfeeding women. Ummm. Hi. My name is Daisy and absolutely no one but my momma was supporting me feeding formula to Lil' D.
When the boob police couldn't see how the information on this government website (for example) might make a formula feeding mom feel a smidge bad (ie: you are not giving your child pure and free liquid gold!) was when I bowed out, never to return to that losing battle. Needless to say, the study did make me feel less guilty. And, no, I won't rush out to convert a breastfeeding mom to my evil, formula ways. Despite these results (and being called a jerk, an ignorant ass, and some other things that start with eff) I'm still 100% on team breast milk! But seriously, thank you science, because I'm pretty sure my whole family line would have died out - not a one of us has been successful with the teat.
|Hische Did These Letters|
6) I write a weekly/bi-weekly e-mail update to friends and family about Lil' D. For some reason her weekly age sounded off so I went back and tracked it. Yup. She is 46 weeks old. Not 43. Not sure where I lost the time but I'm sure formula is to blame.
7) And my computer got a new hard drive to the tune of $265 I did not have. But she runs like a dream now.
So anyway - it's been an all around great week! Jobs! My baby has a fighting chance on formula! She is three weeks older than I thought! Famous people e-mails! New hard drive! And next up. Toothpaste!
|Sorry, girlfriend, you were really 45 weeks old!|