Joining Jennifer at Conversion Diary for another round of seven brief blatherings.
My writing hat is off and my design hat is on – at least for a few days. Lisa Hendey, my wonderful editor over at CatholicMom.com, offered me the chance to do a bit of graphic design work. Here are the results:
I need to do some design work around here, too. The most important task: THIS BLASTED FONT. If I were at the reading glasses stage (Hi Mom!) (and to be fair, I’m just amazingly near-sighted and have some awful astigmatism), I would have a hard time reading my own blog posts.
Problem is, I’m back at WordPress.com because self-hosting is pricey unless you have ads paying for it. That means I have to pay to change my font (boo) or I’m going to have to find a similar template. Finding another template is tricky, because it needs to accommodate my header and banner, both of which I like. Suggestions?
Other tasks: Find a template that mobile-responsive.
What else? Oh! I added a design page and updated my about page. I’m also going to add a blogroll. Let’s just say I accidentally took one too many of my meds yesterday morning and was a buzzing busy bee. Woohoo mania!!!!
Moving on… If you have a chance, go read my friend Jenny’s “we’re Protestant and we’re discerning whether or not to join the Catholic Church” post.
Très bien, mon amie.
Confession: I never understood the term “angel baby” until I had one. Mimi is far and away the easiest baby I’ve ever encountered, which makes me all the happier that she’s my baby.
Naturally, all this angel-baby business has me wondering when the shoe’s going to drop. Because I’m just that kind of person.
On the other hand… All the people who’ve endured my explicit or implicit pontificating on the best and right way to parent their children have my most ardent, deepest apologies. And if I ever, EVER do it again, you have my permission to hit me with de pot and de frying pan. (Catch that Ella Fitzgerald reference? Huh? Huh?)
In a brazen (some might say stupid) attempt to beat cabin fever the other day, I bundled up the kids and attempted the five-block walk to the library. We didn’t drive because the roads were gross with ice and slush and I don’t do that. And I didn’t take the jogging stroller with the big wheels that can go through an inch or two of snow because I wanted someone to get some exercise. Someone of the three-year-old variety.
It took 20 minutes to walk two-and-a-half blocks. And our tracks in the snow looked something like this:
And because I like to add stupid on top of stupid, I forgot to check the temperature before leaving. The baby was bundled and snuggled against me in the Ergo, but it was cold. COLD. Not sub-zero temps/wind chill (here in the Mitten State, kids in school are required to go outside for recess unless it’s below zero – “cold” is a relative term), but cold enough. It didn’t feel all that bad until the wind kicked up. And her little face, though mostly covered, was clearly feeling it.
I should have turned around after a half-block of his non-compliance. I almost did, except that I caved in to his whining refusal. After two-and-a-half blocks, I remembered that I was the one in charge, not the kiddo. I decided to go home.
But he wasn’t having any of it.
So whenever you think you’re a bad mother, remember me. Envision a frustrated, nagging woman with a baby in a front backpack dragging a flopping, crying, screaming, hefty three-year-old out of the middle of an intersection, through the snow and slush and a good clip of cold wind off Lake Michigan. Then tell yourself that, at the very least, you’re not that woman.
You can thank me for the boost of confidence later.
He’s a big sweetheart, though, when he’s not throwing a tantrum. And he’ll continue to grow into a bigger sweetheart.
I have to remind myself of this, here in the trenches of the Terrible Threes.
That’s all for now. Go visit some other 7QT-ers.