I Look Exactly Like This

My sister's getting married in November in the Bahamas. And me being the super nice sister I am, I'm going. (Twist my rubber arm.) Dr. B is staying here. I know, that makes no sense to normal people, but to him it is very clear. He must pay off our debt (well, except student loans, the mortgage and the car) before he can do anything fun. He would just feel too guilty. (I don't understand either, but it's like the vacuum--you just don't argue with Mr. OCD.)

When I visited my aunt in August, we looked at the website for the resort we're going to be at for the wedding, and I realized that my stained and stretched out t-shirts and 4 year old capri pants just weren't going to cut it. So, I hit the Herberger's and bought a whole bunch of tropical-looking sundresses on 70% off. Got some new sandals, too. Found a bikini, sun hat and cover up for Rowan on clearance at Target. When visiting my sister the next week, we even found a dress for me to wear for the wedding at the BCBG Max Azria outlet. 40 bucks for a 400 dollar dress--not bad.

But, the thing I didn't have was a swimsuit. This being the Caribbean, I didn't think I could weasel my way out of wearing one too easily, and the last one I bought (in 2000 I think) was looking a little tired. It's so old, I'm not even sure the elastic still has the boing factor--I may be able to carry my suntan lotion in the extra room in the booty region.

But I hate suit shopping. Who doesn't? It sucks. The last time I had success was at a Lands' End inlet, after going through about 40 suits. Pick your reason for denial:

Smoosh the boobs
Poochy on the butt
Only fit when I slouch (I have a very long torso)
Two words: Michelin Man
So high in the leg I look like Jane Fonda circa 1983, only fatter
Make my skin look like dead fish flesh
Beefy
Bumpy
Squishy
Those fluorescent lights!

I'd heard Victoria's Secret had good suits. Really good.

Yeah, I didn't believe it either.

But, I gave it a go. To hedge my bets, I got a "long torso" size, 2 piece tankini. Ordered 2 sizes and 2 color combinations, knowing full well that the smaller one wouldn't fit, and expecting that neither one would look decent on me.

But I was wrong. Not about the smaller one fitting. It didn't.

But the other one did. See it up there? I look exactly like that in it. Really!

OK, not exactly. (Her hair is longer.) But I don't look half bad. The tummy pooch is hidden, it's not too high on the legs, the color is (for once) not black, the pattern is very cheerful without making me feel like I should be waiting tables at Cheezburger in Paradise, and it keeps the girls in place without smooshing them much. I actually like it. AND the matching capri pants were on sale for 10 bucks.

How can you beat that?

Zerbet!

I knew all those hours of practicing the trombone would pay off.



Zerbet from Ronica on Vimeo.

Band Directors make the best zerbeters. And their daughters are so zerbetable.

And it appears that an audio suggestion works as well...

5 Minutes

Rowan Amelia, 15 weeks, originally uploaded by MrsBinParis.

Rowan is in a good mood today, but her naps have been short. Often, but short. Since I can't get much done unpacking-wise, I've been using the time to upload photos and videos.

This is my latest favorite, taken yesterday. Click it to head over to flickr to see more photos from the last 3 weeks.

And maybe this time she'll sleep for more than 5 minutes, and I can get a box unpacked.

Yeah, right.

Bootylicious

Booty Dance from Ronica on Vimeo.

This diaper made her butt look big, so Rowan decided to channel Beyoncé and do a booty dance. Topless blonde Beyoncé, that is.

Ha!

Finally. Captured on camera.



Rowan Laughing at her Dad from Ronica on Vimeo.

She really does laugh and smile, occasionally.

You Know You're A Mom When...

... you start dancing to the muzak at Walmart in the lampshade isle, just to make your baby laugh.

In my defense, I think it was Patti Smith.

Celebration

I won't be a *itch and tell you I was in my jeans 2 weeks after Rowan was born.

(Woops. Sorry about that. I just did, didn't I? Oh well, don't think it's anything I did. It's genetics, not willpower.)

But I have to celebrate today.

Thanks to breast feeding, stress, and being too lazy to walk downstairs and get the clean, folded jeans next to the dryer...
(drumroll)

I am wearing my SKINNY JEANS! For the first time in 2 years!
AND I AM EATING CARBS!!!

End brag.

(If it makes you feel better, I do have a big old zit on my forehead.)

Vacuum Debate

When we moved to France, we had to store all of our stuff. Dr. B, being the Obsessive-Compulsive that he is, freaked out at the end, and began throwing things away. Important things. Cleaning things.

He tossed my mop. My bucket. My broom. The dustpan. Even... the vacuum cleaner.

"It smells like dog! It stinks anyway. Doesn't work for crap."

Well, it did work (or else all that dirt I emptied out of the cup each time was imaginary.) And yeah, it smelled like dog. Likely, any vac would. Because we have a dog.

He was in the midst of a big freak out about getting us to France, learning the language, dotting all the i's and crossing the t's, having no money, etc., so I didn't argue. I know better than to argue with him when he's in the midst of a big freak out. (Or at least let him win part of it. It's a control issue. Logic schmlogic.)
We came back, and our new home had all hardwood floors. With no need for a big vac, I bought new mops and brooms, and made due with a small hand vac for necessary suck ups. It was fine. I still hate mopping, but it was fine.

Now we're in a place with carpet. Lots of new, nice carpet. And it needs vacuuming.

And so the argument begins.

I need your help. We are discussing the Bissell Lift Off and the Dyson Animal (or not the Animal--whatever, a Dyson anyway.) My sister has the Dyson, and loves it. However, I'm not in love with the ginormous price tag, whether I have a Bed, Bath and Beyond All Hope 20% off coupon or not (currently I don't.) Dr. B is convinced it is better, because the inventor is a scientist and of course scientists know better than people who have been making vacuums for umpteen billion years. I think he's buying into the hype of the brilliant inventor's brilliant marketing scheme, personally. Chances are, the Bissell works as well, or not so much worse that anyone would notice unless you told them. (Don't all people with Dysons tell you they have a Dyson? So you'll notice how clean their floor is, of course. Because you wouldn't have noticed otherwise.) The Bissell has a cool feature, too, that I like--the center part pulls out and is easy to carry around (I'm thinking stairs.) I'm not a neat freak (though my sister might argue), but I do like a clean house, especially with a little one who will eventually be toddling around it.

So, what do you think? All I can find online are a bunch of people who buy one, use it once, and rave about how great it is. Yeah, well, the first time you use a bagless it is pretty amazing to see the dirt. I'm over that. (Last one, the "doggie stinky vac" was a bagless, too.) I want to know if the Bissell does a good job, if it will last, and if it is a good alternative. I just have a hard time spending as much for a vacuum as I did for my wedding gown (which was worth every penny.)

UPDATE: We got the Bissell. It works great, is fairly quiet, moves very smoothly, and doesn't lose the on-board parts every time you move it. If it had a retractable cord, I think it would be the perfect machine. (Well, that and if it vacuumed the house for me while I was taking a nap. That would be even better.)

The Deal

Dr. B has been very busy at work, building his new program and wanting to impress (or at least not tick off) the people around him, so managing the household is pretty much left up to me (except for the AM and PM Lucy walks--he takes care of them.) With a house full of boxes and a 3.5 month old baby, I don't exactly have all my ducks in a row yet, but I'm working on it, slowly but surely. After waking up several days in a row with an aching back, I gave myself a little more slack when it comes to unpacking (and it helped--my back feels much better now). Dr. B promised to help more on the weekend, and I took him at his word. As long as I was able to sit on the couch again, find clean towels, clothes and dishes, and had a bed to sleep in, I could survive.

On Friday night, we were invited to a colleague's home for supper and dog-acquainting. Rowan had another of her no-nap days (after several blissful sleeping-through-the-night and 3 hour nap days), so I was a bit frazzled when he got home from the U. After helping him to find a pair of casual pants to wear (searching his closet and the laundry bin, and subsequently rejecting 5 or 6 options for various reasons), I asked him to change her pants and her outfit so I could also change out of my unpacking clothes, slap on a little lipstick and fluff up my hair.

He laid her on the couch, and got ready to change her pants. Overheard, from upstairs...

"It's naked time! Whoopee! Naked time! Are you ready?"

"Goooo!!!!" (that was Rowan.)

"Ok, here we go. Are you wet or poopy? Just wet. OK, no problem."

He pulls the diaper out from under her.

"Alright. So, I have to reach over there for another diaper. Now, don't pee. It will be just a second, so don't pee. Do we have an understanding?"

"Gaaaahhh!" (Rowan again.)

I am sure you can see where this one is headed.

He reaches for the diaper, and in that split second--you got it.

Pee.

All over the couch and his carefully chosen pants.

"Hey! Ack! What the... Argh! We had a deal! We had an accord!!! I thought we had an understanding!!!"

Rowan: "Goooo!!!"

Then, she giggled.

Yep. She knows exactly what she is doing.

Welcome to Cardboard City

So we're here! Officially Pennsylvania residents, and we're doing our part to fill up the local dumpster with cardboard. We've got a teeny path through which we can walk, but we're sleeping in our own beds and Dr. B even cleared me a spot on the couch where I can sit down tonight. Yes, sit! I'm excited.

I've come to a few conclusions: we have too much junk. I have waaaaaayyyy too much cooking/serving/eating/drinking stuff. (Perhaps this is why I am not a size 2.) I have way too many shoes. And clothes. And handbags. And books (but you can't blame me entirely for that one.)

Though we don't have as much kitchen space or basement storage, we do have big closets, 2 linen closets (we had zero in the other place), and central air. Hallelujah for that! Our internet was hooked up today, and as soon as I find the router, we'll even be wireless. We'll figure it all out, though it may take a while.

Rowan is growing and changing every day. Her newest trick is to wait until we are busy doing something and start fussing, until we run over to check on her. Then she laughs at us.

Great. Manipulation starting at 3 months old.

However, she is loving the stinky feet game, which is pretty fun for all involved. You smell her feet, say "Pew!" in a high pitched voice, and she laughs. It's pretty adorable, I must say. (And her feet don't stink yet, unlike her Mom's.)

So, you may hear from me occasionally, when I take a break from unwrapping more crap we really don't need but keep moving around with us anyway.

Right now I'm going to bed. It's been a long day.

Ergo Sum

If a tree falls in the woods...

So, do I exist?

Try it for yourself.


Hmmm... maybe this means I should actually still be living in France...