Uncategorized | That La Kid

idiot

by Wendy J. La

Hey, if you sell your 6 year old car seat, which is expired and does not conform to safety standards, to two innocent brand-spanking new parents who barely know which end the diaper goes on, YOU SUUUUUUUCK.

Likewise, if you decide you’re not going to pay retail anymore and you’re going to do this baby thing on the cheap and you think, “Wow, what a bargain! Those fools! How dumb of all the other noobs out there to be buying all new stuff!” YOU SUUUUUUUCK!

Yeah. Did you know car seats have expiration dates? Apparently, they do! So, special note to any moms to-be who may be reading this and wondering if they can save money by buying used: just buy a new stroller, for heaven’s sake.

We registered for this: http://www.target.com/p/chicco-cortina-keyfit-travel-system-vega/-/A-13206365#prodSlot=medium_1_24&term=chicco

I remember seeing it in a store display once when I thought I was pregnant but just had a huge cyst. Love at first sight. It was so pretty. So cool. But you know what, it’s not sold in stores. I didn’t see it in a store after that. It’s expensive. We didn’t get it. So, we got this:

It’s not bad, and it was $75 on craigslist. What a bargain! I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it. It gets the job done. (I know what you’re thinking, and I couldn’t locate the expiration date on it, but it was manufactured in 2011. So worst case scenario, it shouldn’t expire until 2017. We actually bought it in 2012, so I still think we got a good deal.)

I continued the search for a used Chicco KeyFit in Vega because I love it. Found a Chicco KeyFit that was black and green. Not as cool as the Vega, but still pretty cool. AND it matches the diaper bag that Great Aunt Dee Dee gave us (which I LOVE). So, it looked like a win all around. They asked $100 for the stroller, car seat and two bases.

Everything was going fine. We even test-drove the new (OLD) Chicco stroller at Disney World. I loved it. Downside: it has one cup-holder. My old (newer!) Graco stroller had two. But it’s so pretty and in essence is the travel system that was on our registry. Then, for some reason this morning I woke up with a wild hair up my butt to check out what the dealio is with this whole expiration thing.

It makes me mad. The sellers told us that the people who looked at the car seat before us didn’t take it because the base was expired. If the previous people knew to check the base, surely they knew to also check the bottom of the seat. (Although, we didn’t. But, I mean, CLEARLY we are idiots because we knew the base was going to expire and bought it anyway. It expires in October, so I figured at that point he’d be a year old and we’d upgrade to a bigger seat.) So, the sellers had to be lying to our faces. Dangit. They seemed so nice. They said it was all a scam by the car seat companies to sell more car seats. And, “oh, back in my day we just rolled around in the back of the station wagon with no seat belts…”

Well, it’s not a scam by car seat manufacturers. It’s a plastic-becomes-dry-and-brittle-after-sitting-in-the-sun-in-you-car-for-6-years legit thing! I’m sure it’s a conservative estimate, but how can I put Bruce in it now that I’ve seen the label that says, “DO NOT USE AFTER 02 FEB 2013?”

Other than this, I’ve had such positive experiences on craigslist! I hate that my constant quest for the best quality at the best price has cost me more money. Our family has spent $315 on strollers and car seats! I could have bought a brand new travel system for $300! To top it off, a new one might have lasted through several kids without expiring! Dangit!

I forget that you are not in my head, so as I write and re-read and re-write this, I am wondering what backstory I need to add or clarify. I love the Liteway. Maybe I shouldn’t count it in my tally of money wasted on strollers because that one is a keeper either way.

I also have a new liteway stroller, so maybe I should just buy a convertible car seat, new, like, from a store, and be done with it. Contrary to what Tom thinks, Bruce is getting too big and too heavy to be toted around in the car seat as a carrier. He’s starting to sit up on his own. (Oh yeah, that happened! Brand new this week!) Maybe he can sit up in shopping carts and high chairs from now on, and if he needs pushing, we do it in the Liteway.

So. I’m new at this. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Love to. I’m feeling very overwhelmed. Can I get by with just using the Liteway, which is a very glorified umbrella stroller? I guess it all depends on my lifestyle? My only issue with the Liteway is that it doesn’t have a huge basket underneath for the diaper bag. It has a cup holder for mom, but no tray or cup holder for Bruce. I don’t want to buy a new travel system if we’re on the cusp of not using it as a system anymore. How long did you use your big stroller? Did you have both a regular stroller and an umbrella stroller? Bruce is almost 8 months old. How long to babies ride backwards in car seats? When do we need to get a bigger seat? The car seat, it seems, goes to 22 lbs. I forget what he was at the last check-up. I want to say it was around 17. Okay, yeah I just checked. He was 17 lbs. at his 6 month check-up. So, he’s 5 lbs. away from growing out of the car seat anyway, which I am guesstimating will happen at about the one year mark?

I am thinking we switch back to ol’ reliable, the old newer one. Well, I mean, definitely we do that first because this new OLD one isn’t safe. But, I mean as a long-term plan, do I just go back to what I have or should I just buy a new Chicco car seat and continue to use the prettier Chicco stroller? Or should I buy a convertible seat and use the big Chicco travel system’s stroller and the Liteway depending on the situation? Or do I just sell the new OLD stroller to recoup my loss because I’m mad at it? Or do I sell the used crap for what I paid for it, buy the Chicco KeyFit in Vega, because that’s what I wanted all along, use that car seat for a couple of months, hoping I’ll have another kid in the next 5 years that can use it for real?

Sad thing is I have $100 in giftcards. Plus the $175 I spent on craigslist… Yeah. Absolutely could’ve had exactly what I wanted from day one with about the amount I’ve spent so far. In my defense, though, I had every intention of selling the $75 Graco when we bought the new OLDER $100 Chicco.

I feel bad, because when I bought the shiny new OLDER one, Tom said, “I like the one he has, but if you like this better…” *facepalm*

We were good! Why did I have to — whatever. Doesn’t matter. It’s really just a $100 mistake. $100 Stupid Tax. I keep thinking that it was a $315 minstake, but it wasn’t. If we can get rid of the new OLD stroller for $100, then it’s a $0 mistake. Even if I unload the new OLD stroller for $50 and throw away the car seat, I’ve only paid a $50 stupid tax.

AND it smelled funny! I should have known. The new OLD car seat that we bought always smelled weird. I immediately missed the smell of my old newer one.

Wish Ikea sold car seats.

***UPDATE 6/29/13***
We sold the stroller a week or two ago. The guy said “what can you do to help out a Mexican guy?”
To which Tom replied, “Make me an offer.”
“$80?”
“Sounds good.”
“Aw, man. You see, I should’ve said $50.” It worked out, because before the dude showed up we talked about going as low as $75.

We also bought a convertible car seat, brand-spanking-new, for about $90 and I have fallen back in love with the original Graco travel system that we bought. I have a new respect for the thing. The sellers were wonderful people and we got a great deal.

Bruce Uncategorized you suuuck

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some things

by Wendy J. La

I keep meaning to update, and in the midst of it all I also keep writing posts about myself and not having the courage to post them – AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FO’ DAT!

Some things that I don’t want to forget:

Bruce has been shuffling across the floor, but he’s really gaining momentum this week especially. I think I can can count a little maneuver he did last night as legit crawling.
Just after we got back from Virginia for Sunny’s graduation, Bruce would open his mouth on my cheek and say, “muh.” They were sweet but short-lived kisses. I’m not losing hope, though. The dancing thing started out the same way. He did it once, then forgot. But now he does it all the time. Particularly when Momma wants a kiss.
On April 20, about a week before Gran & Grandpa’s wedding, Gran found two little bottom front teeth. I’m an idiot – didn’t know that was, like, a thing. Apparently, your first tooth, or two together in Luong Jye’s (sp?) case, is a big deal. No sign of the upper level dudes.
We went to Walt Disney World after the wedding. It rained, and it rained, and it rained. But we wrapped our precious infant in a plastic bag and carried on through the cold, damp night. And the parent of the year award goes to….

Seriously, how stinkin’ cute is he?!

We started with one adult poncho to cover the stroller. Then, I decided that I was tired of being damp. Then finally Tom got one when the rain just wouldn’t let up. And eventually, we were like, “well, Bruce likes fireworks… we should take him out of the stroller for that… and keep him dry… and also keep the stroller dry…”

So, this family of 3 has 4 ponchos.

Show ’em how it’s done!

We did all the normal stuff. Just wetter. And wrapped in plastic. Oh, and we crashed Gran & Grandpa’s honeymoon.

But look how happy Gran was to see Bruce!

Playing with Gran & Grandpa’s cake toppers.

Grandpa didn’t even mind it all that much.

It was nice. It was just a nice dynamic popping in to visit, and then going back to our ratty off-property “resort.” Gran and Grandpa were so happy to see us. We kind of felt like guests. “You guys want some soda?” “No, thank you. We don’t want to drink all your Dr. Pepper.” “No big deal, help yourself.” I washed my glass when I was done instead of just dropping it in the sink because, you know, I was a guest in their “home.” We went to dinner Tuesday night, then left them alone until Sunday when they disembarked the Disney Dream. (At least, I think it was the Dream this time.)

I told Bruce that he’s so fortunate to be on his third trip to Walt Disney World when so many other little boys haven’t been once. Lucky boy! He didn’t seem to care either way.

He was happy though. I’m constantly surprised at how happy he is all the time. I like it. As soon as I got knocked up, I said we were replacing Mr. Nasty with Lil’ Happy. (Thought it was going to be Miss Happy, but anyway…) I don’t know where the name came from, why I thought Happy and not Healthy, Adorable, Cutie, Sweetie… but he is SO happy.

This last trip, I decided that Bruce’s first birthday party is going to be New Fantasyland, Storybook Circus. We had an “it’s a small world” shower, Storybook Circus first… we’ll just work out way through the parks until he’s 21 and we drink around Epcot.

We got to visit Lindsay at her house, too. It was our first time there. (Although I’ve become very familiar with the living room since skype-guarding it.) I didn’t want to make Lindsay about-face as soon as she got home and take us to Shutters, so we went to Jack somebody’s something Shack at Royal Palm Pointe, right on the water. It was nice, I couldn’t stop geeking out over eating on the water, but the food was meh. We all would’ve preferred Shutters, but at least now we know. I assumed Riverside would’ve been crowded, but we didn’t even check. Should have checked. Well, I mean, I guess we didn’t know any better.

Sarah let Tom, Bruce and me sleep in her bed. That was awesome. Awesome!

I almost forgot! Bruce started riding around in his stroller like a big boy at Walt Disney World. I don’t know what I will do not looking at his wittle face anymore. Tom still likes to keep him in the seat, and it is taxing buckling and unbuckling him all the time, but I think his car-seat-stroller days are numbered. Now that he’s getting used to the sitting thing, he’s also more inclined to let us push him in the red stroller, which is nice because it’s like a fancy umbrella stroller, so it’s lightweight and folds up much smaller than the travel system.

I think he enjoys the view.

I’d like to know what this little boy has done with my little baby.

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growing up

by Wendy J. La

Since we moved into the house, I haven’t cared much about filling it with furniture. No one ever comes to visit. It’s just Tom, Bruce and me. As long as we all have beds, were good.

My dining room table, for example, is the table that we’ve had since we got married. I found it by a dumpster outside some UVA students’ apartments. It has a Simba sticker on it. 🙂 We’ve never not had a tablecloth on it, so it looks fine.

Our couch was a wedding gift. It’s upstairs in the den in front of the only tv in the house. It’s set up pretty much the same way it was when we lived on Ainsworth Street. We have all of our DVDs on bookshelves with doors because I HATE looking at the spines of the DVDs. Those are IKEA shelves. Everything is very modest. People joke, but our entire house has been IKEA or hand-me-downs, and we’re cool with that. It still looks nice.

There are some things that we need to get around to eventually. We have a den, family room and living room. The den is done.

We have one chair in the living room.

We stopped by a furniture store that was going out of business. They had a phenomenal deal on a whole bed for Grandma and Grandpa’s room. So we went for it.

We saw a couch that would work. The lady said, “make me an offer.” So we did.

It’s all starting to come together. On one hand, I don’t really care. I’m not trying to impress you and we don’t need it. On the other hand, it feels really good to get the washing machine out of the family room and live like a couple of adults.

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want.

by Wendy J. La

Fat people will feel me on this one. The rest of you, meh.

So, I’ve been thinking about things that I want. I am making a list.

No facial hair.
To be able to wear heels more comfortably.
No “fanny pack.”
To be a good role model for Bruce.
To be able to shop in the regular clothing department, not Women’s.
A pregnancy that is not complicated with gestational diabetes.
To ride the roller coasters at Busch Gardens without the guy coming over and pushing on the harness to lock me in.
To buy cute sexy underwear, and bras that really fit.

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love stinks.

by Wendy J. La

Guess what I got for Valentine’s Day?!

So, Bruce and I were laying in bed watching e-cards from Gran when I noticed his jammies were wet. Oh no, so is the blanket. Dammit, so is the mattress. So, I scoop him up and change his diaper and plop him in the car seat. I put the comforter in the wash, take off the sheets… I guess I could have spot cleaned, but I told you guys a long time ago that I hate dirty, nasty, pee pee, poo poo stuff. On that note…

I did what I could to blot out the pee from the mattress without rubbing it in a whole lot. I sprayed it with Resolve and just tried to work it out without working it in. I’m content with my efforts, but will probably have Tom give it a go later anyway.

I grab Bruce. Because the poor baby is just in a diaper, I head towards his room for clothes– is that poop?! Did you poop in the diaper that I JUST put on you 5 seconds ago?! You suck.

I don’t really stand at the changing table and wipe incessantly when he poops. They’re squishy and slimy, so I dunk him in the sink. Usually Bruce sits under the running water of the faucet. Tom thinks it’s weird. But a little soap and water, BOOM, we’re done.

So, we’re in the sink, loving our mini-bath/bidet. Thank goodness it wasn’t a whole heck of a lot of poop– AHHH! What is that?! Pooping. In the sink. Great. Okay. Swell.

I’ve got no problem with it until I realize that unlike it’s Bruce-butt-smashed counterpart, diaper poop, sink poop does not go down the sink. No. It clogs that sucker right up.

So, now the water is running, Bruce is sitting in a bath of his own yellow poop, and I’m up to my elbows in it, frantically trying to wipe the poop out of the drain with a wipe — because EW, poop! — and geez, I guess it would help if I turn the water off.

FINALLY, I get the drain cleared, and wipe the sink clean and resume soaping Bruce up under the faucet. What a nightmare that was! Wait until everyone hears! Wait until I tell Tom! Tom is going to think this is so funny!

Man… I don’t think I have ever had this much residue on me. It’s still all over his butt despite all that rinsing– oh. That would be because HE IS POOPING AGAIN.

Filled the sink. Twice.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody! Enjoy your chocolates!

Bruce Uncategorized you suuuck

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wordless wednesday: sun nin fai lok

by Wendy J. La

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church

by Wendy J. La

Tom and I tried out a new church on Saturday. People are going to think we’re Seventh Day Adventists. We’re not. We’re just lazy, and it’s easier to go to church on a Saturday evening at about 5:30 than it is to get up at 8:30 to make it to church by 10:something on Sundays.

We liked it. The Pastor is Derwin Gray, a former NFL player, which makes me think of my dad. The sermon was good, the music was alright. I like that it’s really close to us. We used to drive a half hour to church in Cville, and 30-45 minutes from Olney to McLean Bible Church. This one, Transformation Church is a couple of minutes down the road. They’re multi-ethnic and multi-generational. Honestly, I was worried that I’d be the only white person – but I wasn’t. They’re no MBC, but they’re young, so we’ll see.

MBC is the standard by which I judge everyone else.

We put Bruce in the nursery while we were at church and spent the whole hour watching for our number, FBK, to show up on the screen but it never did. He did fine.

During the service, the pastor referenced some program that they’d been doing in which they had put $30,000 worth of gift cards out into the world over the past few weeks. It was helping others who may need it. If you got a card and needed it, it was your gift from God, or maybe you know someone who can use it. He said that last weekend was the last weekend, “and some of you may have received one of those tonight, hold ’em up if you got ’em!” Aw, man. We never win anything. Womp wah. I was so bummed. Elevation did something like that, too.

We went to pick up Bruce in the nursery after the service. He was in a swing. When we dropped him off, he was all alone, but there were half a dozen kids there when we picked him up. All these moms were behind us clammoring for their babies. It was cute.

Out of no where, tap on the shoulder. “Hi, uh, I was sitting next to you and I got one of these. I was wondering if you could use it.” He handed Tom a Chick-fil-A gift card.

D’aaaawwww!

$25. Pretty sweet. We have trouble justifying it, because we had just spent WAY too much on a beautiful chair. So, I think we are going to pass it on. But it was pretty neat.

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craft fail

by Wendy J. La

I found something on Etsy that I liked, but the joker wanted $60 for it. Screw that! I can make it myself! Well…

Had to explain to Tom what “Nailed it.” means in the world of craftfails because, this:

My attempt at one of those really cool hidden treasure b

Did you know that you can buy something similar at Michaels for about $5?

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nurses

by Wendy J. La

Let me preface this whole thing by saying that I’ve got nothing against nurses, and I agree their job is a tough one. My cousin Amy is a nurse. She worked really hard to get there, and works a whole lot now that she has made it.

That said…

Have you ever seen anyone toot their own horn as much as your nurse friends do, like, on facebook? I guess people say a lot about teachers, but the teachers themselves remain inherently modest. What IS IT with nurses?

That is what put me over the edge today. Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start. Memory of an elephant? Really? Because I have told you 7 times that my pain is at a level 8, and you keep saying, “okay, let me go check with your doctor.” I guess that guy is tough to wrestle down. When we were in the hospital with Bruce, we were constantly reminding the nurses when we needed something. I brought a breast pump from home because pumping is something that MUST be done on time or you risk ruining the whole thing. I could not risk waiting on a nurse to find a hospital breast pump. So, memory of a human, I would say. As for an angel’s patience, I can’t really argue with that. It’s a job that I could never do. I completely lack the people skills. But not everyone is like me. I couldn’t be a waitress either. But waitresses and nurses are compensated for doing their job. Many of them can’t draw like I can, or use a camera, or set up studio lights. And I am ~~fairly~~ compensated for that. Does anyone remember Nurse Austin? I would hardly call his patience divine, would hardly say his heart was “as big as the sun.”

I would say that he followed protocol. “Well, we can’t let you leave until you eat.” “Alright, but when I eat, I throw up.” “Well, we can’t let you leave until you eat.” I wanted fruit, and he wouldn’t give me fruit. He just gave me bread. And I threw it up. The overnight nurse let me order fruit for breakfast and guess what – I walked out of there that afternoon. Yeah. Maybe m’body knows what m’body needs, even if YOU think the acid in the fruit will upset my stomach more.

I realize nurses are waist-deep in blood, vomit, urine and shit sometimes. Did they not anticipate that going in? They didn’t teach ya’ that in nursing school? How about the long hours? Were you not aware that someone works overnight in hospitals? Are you really surprised that patients in a hospital are sick, cranky, and puking left and right? I get that the job is hard, I get that. I’m just saying they knew that going in and still signed up for it.

I see these things all the time about how unappreciated nurses are. Yeah? Well, Monday, May 6 is Nurses Day. There is no such thing as Graphic Designers Day or Video Producers Day. (We just get this, http://clientsfromhell.net/.) Oh, but my job doesn’t necessitate a day of appreciation. I don’t know how difficult it is to be a nurse. Okay. Fair enough. But you never hear about Firefighters Day or Doctors Day (although I was surprised to learn they do exist).

You know why “they say it’s an easy profession?” (Although, I don’t think “they” do.) Because when “they” are in the hospital, they get their vein blown 3 times before someone (in this case, my dad – guess what, not a nurse!) is able to do it correctly. Because “they” see you come in, take their blood pressure, ask if they need anything and then leave, promising to bring them that cup of ice. And then “they” don’t see you again for 2 hours.

The only thing worse than the way nurses talk about how awesome they are is moms. OH MY GOOOOSH, Moms! “I’m a nurse (ha!), chauffeur, counselor, cook, maid, waitress, teacher, handyman, security officer, photographer, counselor, event planner, personal assistant, ATM…” No. You’re a mom. Shut up.

Holy crap, this person gets me: http://www.parentwin.com/2012/01/just-mom-yes-just-mom-facebook-just-mom.html

Couldn’t have said it better myself. In the same vein, doing all the nurse-stuff with awesomeness doesn’t make you an angel. It makes you a really good nurse.

Is it really all that indignant to bathe a patient? How is that supposed to make the non-nursing world feel, as patients? Aaaand, it kind of is about the pills and the charting.

Or… Labrador Retriever.

So, no chance I can speak to the doctor who will be performing the surgery? You know, the one who went to medical school for 8 years?

Ok, well in that case forget this entire post.

***Just to reiterate, in case Amy is reading, this is not about the dedicated nurses who quietly go along doing their job to the best of their ability.***

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resolute

by Wendy J. La

I don’t like New Year’s resolutions. Probably because I make them every year and here I am morbidly obese, biting my nails, no children’s book written, no job to go to, no savings account of my own… you get the idea.

I don’t like being fat. Now, before you even go there, it’s okay. I am fat. I am. There are fatter out there, but yea, it’s true. Obese.

I very diligently dieted and exercised in 2009 and I started to shape up. Then i plateaued, lost hope and gave in to Aussie Cheese Fries. Every year, it seems, I watch some documentary that scares the crap out of me and then decide to be healthy for a little while.

So, I’m not doing it.

There are some things I’d like to see happen. I’d like to see a reduction in my facial hair. I can’t help but think that this is connected to PCOS and being damn-near pre-diabetic. I’d like for my knees to stop making that noise when I walk upstairs. I wouldn’t mind weighing less. But, I’m not setting myself up for failure with some New Year’s Resolution to diet and lose weight.

I have to confess, the genesis of this idea actually was a documentary again. I watched “Hungry for Change” on Netflix. The movie opens by saying something like, “we’re no longer eating food, but food-like products” that look and taste more amazing as technology improves. But I don’t want to eat technology. I don’t want to put engineered products inside me. I want to eat… well… food. Food like my ancestors ate. Tomatoes. Spinach. Lettuce. I am betting my ancestors didn’t eat kale, but I hear it’s good for you, too. They sure didn’t eat Krispy Kreme donuts and waffle fries and chocolate milkshakes. I’m not saying I’ve had my last Baskin Robbins, I’m just saying I want my diet (defined as the typical foods a particular species eats, by the way, as opposed to Weight Watchers) to be based on healthy, real food.

For example… a typical day after I had Bruce:

No breakfast.
Lunch around 2: Chickfila sandwich, large fries, large Dr. Pepper/Coca-Cola split.
Dinner pretty late: something delicious that Tom made (spaghetti, garlic bread and a salad), or if we’re tired, Outback (12 oz. steak, cheese fries, steamed veggies, salad with ranch and some Bloomin’ Onion). And either way, another Coke.

Today, I had:

Everything bagel, 2 eggs.
Dark leafy green salad, organic chips and salsa.
Hamburger with mushroom and shallots, dark leafy green salad, steamed brocoli, carrots and snow peaas.
More chips and salsa.
No soda, tons of water.

See, I’m not saying no to beef forever. I just don’t want my diet to be based on that kind of stuff. If at all possible, we are trying to cut out processed stuff.

Now look, I like Krispy Kreme and Outback and Chickfila.

I heard this thing in church once. A Biblical scholar was teaching when a student asked him, “So, now that I am saved, I am free to do as I please?” And the teacher replied, “Yes. But what now pleases you?” If you have truly become a follower of Christ, you want to drop everything and follow him, live your life to glorify his name, and be a missionary every day. It’s kind of the same way with this.

Instead of saying, “I’m on a diet, I can’t have that.” I’m feeling, “I can have that, but I don’t want it.”

It’s not proven science, but I feel like the excess fat contributed to the PCOS, which contributed to the cyst, and facial hair growth. “If you are what you eat, then I only want to eat the good stuff!” I don’t want to have a fatty liver made of french fries and barbecue and high-fructose corn syrup. I want to have vibrant, thriving cells made up of spinach and heirloom tomatoes. I just want to be healthy. You know what I mean? I FEEL like the cyst was made of poor choices. I don’t want to make those choices anymore.

They compare sugar in a lot of ways to cocaine in the documentary. It was really good. You should watch it.

Anyway. No resolutions, but Tom and I are going to give this a shot for 2 weeks and see how we feel after that. We might even see what we can do about exercising.

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That La Kid

wishin' an' hopin'!

idiot

some things

growing up

want.

love stinks.

wordless wednesday: sun nin fai lok

church

craft fail

nurses

resolute

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