Mama Got a "Real" Job

It's official.  I have accepted a job offer as CFO of one of my clients.  Gone are the days of working in coffee shops, sipping on lattes, meeting friends for lunch all of the time because of my uber-flexible schedule, spending loads of quality time with Roscoe because I could do some of my work from home...

Oh, wait.  Those were just my fantasies about being self-employed (and what most people think, it seems).

What this really means for me is that I will get to go to work and work and come home and be (mostly) off work instead of being available to all of my clients 24/7.  Not to mention the relief of only having one boss and one job to focus on.  And the whole paid time off thing is pretty exciting.  I will technically be a 75% employee so that I can still spend some extra time with Roo.  Now let's just see if I can play well enough with others to make this work...  

Fingers (and Toes) Crossed

So... we have big news that I have not written about yet because, well, Ray and I have a strict (yet unspoken) don't-get-your-hopes-up pact.  The news is that our house sold.  We close one week from today, but Ray signs all of the papers on Friday.  Perhaps now that it is so close we will believe that it is actually happening.  We even (gasp) went and looked at open houses last weekend to regain a feel for the market.

It promises to be an exciting week to come on many fronts, actually.  We will close on our house, we pick Ray's parents up from the airport on Sunday (Roscoe and the dogs might implode from sheer bliss), we may or may not have purchased me a Mama-Mobile by then and I plan to accept a job offer from one of my clients (I'll dish the dirt once all is finalized).  No wonder that laundry pile looks so appealing.  There is something to be said for the mundane and mindless in the midst of chaos.    

Foto Friday: Valentine's Day (Weekend) Adventures

We used Valentine's Day as an excuse to go on an adventure last weekend as a family.  On Saturday we drove down the coast to Santa Cruz so Roscoe could play in the sand.  The weather was perfect so we picked up a couple of beach toys at the liquor shop and headed to the beach.  After the beach we got some lunch, wandered the town and then headed home tuckered out and covered in sand.  Perfect day.   

The Concentration Face hard at work:

 Ray's beach art:

[Please forgive the sideways videos... I am an old dog and these are new tricks]

The view from our lunch spot (at least the view was good, the food was NOT):

 And because our big boy goes to "school" now, we got our first Valentine from him (can you tell he has been a teething mess since his shirt is covered in drool and his face is all cried out?):

And Roscoe's new favorite activity:

Foto Friday

He will climb on anything and try and get it to move:

Ready for his second day of "school":

Representing for the Raiders on Super Bowl Sunday:

The early days of walking (wobbling):

Getting steadier (perhaps the dialogue helps):

Tatay's surprise: 

(we had gone to REI last weekend and Roscoe couldn't get enough of the tents)

Mama Tale

I experienced one of my more interesting Poopcidents this morning.  I could tell by the toxic scent that Roscoe had something special waiting for me, but I had NO IDEA. 


To my surprise horror, when I took off his jammie feet he had poop BETWEEN HIS TOES. 


That's right. 


And down his legs and up his torso.  


Picture this: I am trying desperately to extract him from his diaper without smearing/dumping poo everywhere so we are on the bathroom floor wrestling.  I finish removing the diaper just in time to catch him peeing a massive puddle. Of course he gets wildly excited and proud of himself, splashes around in it and tries to stand up. Before I can catch him (with my poop covered hands), he slips in his own pee and knocks his head on the tile.  And starts crying hysterically. So, what is a Mama to do but pick him up and CUDDLE her pee-slippery, poo-covered little bear?  It reminds me of my wise (and quite dignified lawyer) friend Leah telling me that there is no dignity left after having a baby (especially after breastfeeding a year).   


Touche, Leah.

HOOOOOORAY!!!

As I finished my last post I got a phone call with wonderful, blissful news... Mela's tumor does not appear to be cancerous.  (!!!!)  What a relief.  I have no idea what it really is ("a benign lesion with a surprising amount  of fiberglass"), but they have analyzed the cells and are "fairly confident" it is not malignant.  HOO-RAY.
 
And, while I wrote this post, Roscoe got into the garbage (which was blocked off, but he is clever) and happily ate an old graham cracker piece he found.  No doubt discarded yesterday after he had half chewed it and then spit it out.

And then got stuck in his laundry hamper after removing all of his clothes and putting them in his diaper pail (better than the other way around).  

I am fairly confident I will survive this motherhood thing, but I am not confident that my sanity will.

I Guess He Likes Kiwis...

Tuesday is shopping day for me.  And not just anytime on Tuesday, but the sliver of time between the 1st and 2nd nap.  As soon as I hear little squawks from the crib it is a mad dash to change him, feed him lunch, hit the stores and (if I'm lucky) unload the groceries before I get him back to bed.  Roscoe loves the grocery store.  He hangs out in the Beco making eyes at every old lady we pass.  They eat it up and coo at him; he eats it up and bats those eyelashes and does best impression of a shy and adorable angel baby.  It takes ages to get through the store, stopping to chat with everyone about how cute he is and prying his go-go-gadget-claws off everything within reach.  But I love it.  It is our bonding time and it is very rare my boy will hold still long enough to get a good snuggle in.  If I have to strap him in to get a cuddle, so be it.

I had to make two stops yesterday and in between stores I hear him shrieking with profound happiness.  I glance back to see what is going on that is so incredible and see that he has gotten a bag of tortilla chips from the grocery bag and is tossing it around and smashing the chips to bits (Karen's dream come true as she only allows herself the bits...)  THEN, he discovers the kiwis.  Four wonderful, ripe little kiwis in a bag.  To my horror, he manages to "eat" two of the kiwis.  Through the bag.  With his sharp little fangs (the same ones he likes to bite us with).  I managed to salvage portions of the mangled kiwis for his dessert and he gobbled them up quite happily.  I think we have a new favorite fruit around here (sorry NANANANAS (i.e. bananas))

The Reason I'm Aging Exponentially Fast...

And boy is he worth it:

Moopers Poopers, Mepos, Mama Mumu, MiMi, Hippo.

That's our girl.  Mela Bear has many (affectionate) names and she happily wags/answers to all.  As you may recall, Ikaika recently had a mast cell tumor removed and we have been dealing with that emotional roller coaster, going to a doggy oncologist and making decisions about treatment. Well, I found a similar looking tumor on Mela's elbow and it was growing fast so I brought her in Friday afternoon.  Turns out it isn't a mast cell tumor.  It is either a) some kind of non-metastatic tumor (which would be great because they can just remove it or monitor it and it isn't that dangerous) OR b) it is sarcoma, which the vet said is much, much worse than a mast cell tumor.  They would have to not only remove the tumor, but the surrounding muscle tissues and other things I didn't understand.  Basically, very bad and spreads very quickly and nasty, nasty, nasty.  So, I had to make a split second decision and had them remove the tumor and send it away right then.  We find out next week which it is and if it is sarcoma, she will be in for a much more extensive surgery.  Sucks.  That is all I have to say about that.