I’ve been drinking ginger tea and eating frozen corn (yes, still frozen) all morning because it seems to be getting along with my stomach while the thought of most other food is enough to make me queasy.

But I just saw a mention of pumpkin pie, and now I desperately want some.

What is wrong with me?

The truck which ran over me came back for seconds. And thirds. And fourths. I feel like crap.

I’m so tired. I woke up quite early this morning, and no matter how desperately I tried to go back to sleep, it just wasn’t going to happen. Finally I turned up the baby monitor and went into the bathroom hoping that a long, hot soak would make me feel at least a little better. No sooner did the tub finish filling than I heard Munchkin babbling through the monitor a good hour before I expected her to be up.

I hate to admit it, but a venemous, evil, inner bitch part of myself just wanted to turn the monitor off and return to my bath with the hope that I wouldn’t be able to hear her when she tired of being alone and started crying. I despise that part of myself.

Of course I went and opened her door to let her out. She took off running down the hall for some reason while I returned to my room and collapsed on the bed once more. She came back just a second later - any longer and I would have gone looking to see what mischief she was getting into - and started naming everything. She heard the water still draining in the tub and said “water” and noticed the mug on my nightstand and said “tea.” Then she went and stood by the fan asking “fan? fan?” until I turned it on for her.

She needs things to be a certain way. We always turn the fan on first thing in the morning before we cuddle in the big bed, so that is how it has to be. She also knows that I take my glasses off when I lie down, so if I leave them on, she gets upset and insists on taking them off for me, saying “glasses? glasses?” the whole time. She’s so cute.

So we had our morning cuddle, and I wish I could have stayed in bed all day, but alas. That doesn’t work so well with a toddler to chase around. So here I am, still being a terrible mommy and using the TV as a babysitter because I just don’t have the energy to play. Poor Munchkin is getting tired of this.

Did anyone happen to catch the license plate number of the truck that ran over me?

I really wish I could just stay in bed all day. Screw responsibilities.

Dear [ real name ],

Saturday, July 16 is almost here - the official release date for Harry
Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. This early shipping confirmation is to let
you know, that in preparation for the July 16 delivery, your Harry Potter
pre-order, OR[number deleted] is packed and ready for pickup by Canada Post!

Normally we confirm shipment the day an order leaves our warehouse.
However, to ensure your order arrives for Saturday, July 16, we’re packing
orders in advance of the actual release day. As such, if you paid for your
order by credit card, we have now processed a charge to your card. In
addition, the tracking number included in this email will not display any
relevant Canada Post delivery updates until the day of the release - July
16.

YOUR ORDER DETAILS:
1. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Adult Edition) - 1 @ $24.60

Item(s) Subtotal: $-8.04
Shipping: $5.90
GST: $2.14

In related news, environmental groups are urging a boycott of US editions of books six. Instead, they are telling people to by the Canadian edition because the Canadaian publisher - Raincost books - is publishing it on 100% post-consumer recycled paper.

There are other reasons to buy the Canadian version as well. The cover art, for one. I think the cover of the US edition is particularly hideous this time. I had intending to buy all US editions just because I started my collection down there and I wanted them all to match, but not this year. Go look at the cover art for the adult Canadian edition. Isn’t that pretty? Even the kid’s cover is better than the US cover.

And George Bush keeps talking about the war on terror being on and how we will hunt down the terrorists at the same time as spreading an ideology of “hope and compassion that will overwhelm their hate.”

If only he’d actually do that. If only he’d actually done that instead of basically abandoning the fight against Al Quaeda to start the war he’d always wanted with Iraq. He hit them and scattered them, then left them to lick their wounds and call more people to their cause. He gave them a rallying cry to say that the Westerners wanted to destroy their way of life and rebuild it to suit us.

And compassion? Where? Bombs breed hate, not hope.

Every time I refresh the news. I wish it would stop.

My heart goes out to London today.

If, as you live your life, you find yourself mentally composing blog entries about it, post this exact same sentence in your weblog.

(via This Woman’s Work)

Whoa. Blast from the past.

Just found frogger online linked from a forum. I can’t beat the darn first level though.

Along the same lines as my last post…

Last night, Munchkin was eating a popsicle which dripped on our laminate floor. She got the towel that hangs from handle of the fridge door and took it over to wipe up the drips. It was quite funny, really, because the poor girl still held her dripping popsicle in her other hand, and every time she’d finished cleaning the mess in front of her, she’d turn and find more drips off to the side.

Anyway, M looked back and forth between our twenty-two month old dilligently cleaning the floor and the counter where I still hadn’t wiped up the drips from the huge mess I made when making the popsicles hours before and asked me if I was sure she was really my daugher. Hmph.

My normal routine is to load the diswasher at night after Munchkin goes to bed. Then, in the morning, she helps me unload it. She takes all the silverware out and reaches up to toss it in the proper drawer (I organize it later) while I put away the rest of the dishes. So long as I am fast enough to finish at about the same time as her so as to prevent her from trying to help me with anything breakable, it all works pretty well.

Except, last night I was too exhausted to even think of loading the diswasher. I fell into bed the instant she was finally asleep, and it would have taken a lot more than guilt over a dirty kitchen to get me out of it.

So this morning we had to load the dishwasher. That did not go over well at all. She kept wanting to take out the dirty dishes and put them away in the drawer or cupboard. She was very confused and angry when I wouldn’t let her. I think we learned a lesson on clean and dirty though, and by the end of it she seemed to have settled down and accepted that dirty things need to go in the dishwasher.

It’s really neat how she wants to help with everything. Just a little bit ago, she found a bit of plastic on the floor and stood over by the kitchen sink calling to me until I came and unlocked the cabinet under it so that she could throw it in the garbage. Given the number of wrappers sitting on the counter next to the laptop, it’s quite possible that she is already a better housekeeper than I am.

I feel bad for my poor littel girl when she is quite clearly telling me something that makes perfect sense to her, but I just can’t fiture out what she is saying.

Just now, she was tugging at the fridge door and saying something that sounded quite a bit like “puppies.” I had no idea what she was saying, but then I thought that perhaps she had changed her word for popsicle (pop-see-coo), so I opeened the freezer and offered her one. It wasn’t what she wanted.

At last, as she grew more and more frustrated, I opened the fridge for her to let her find what she wanted for herself. She pulled out a carton of strawberries and gave me an exasperated look as if to say, “See? This was what I was saying all along.”

So for future reference, in my house, something that sounds an awful lot like “puppies” but isn’t quite is actually berries.

So a few minutes ago when I wrote the entry about Sandra Day O’Connor retiring I was a little upset and wrote that I felt like crying, but of course I wasn’t.

Then I read down my livejournal friends list and found a post from a parenting community that warned about something so fucking sick it really did make me cry.

There are several forums online where mothers go to talk about cloth diapers. The best brands, advice for washing, where to buy, how to make your own, etc. There are some really cute diapers out there, and people like to show off the cute diapers they have made (or occasionally bought if they’ve purchased really cute diapers from the most sought after work at home moms), often by posting pictures of the diaper on their baby or toddler. Some work at home moms who sell diapers online ask people for pictures (or people just send them in anyway) so that they can post galleries of their diapers on children to show off their diaper-making skills.

And now someone has gone through those forums and sites harvesting pictures of kids in diapers and put them on a site for people who have a – the word is a lot like “fish” but has an “et” after the “f” and I’m not putting it here because I don’t want my site coming up when people google this – for this sort of thing. And I am not going to look at that site, but according to those that have, there are people posting discussions saying they like the boy photos because they are cuter and stuff like that, and they don’t seem to mean cute in the way that we do.

And people in forums I post in from time to time are looking through the site and finding pictures of their own kids. And it’s the cloth diaper mamas that are talking about it because of the forums exist in which to do so, but they are saying that most of the pictures are of kids in disposables stolen from personal websites, and who knows how to warn those parents. The And the FBI has been contacted, but currently the site is still up.

And I’m thinking of all the diapers I’ve made and how I always meant to show them off and thanking goodness that I never got around to it.

And I have a site where I use Munchkin’s real name (I don’t even use her real first name here, except maybe once or twice when it slipped in), but that has always been password protected and is for family and real life friends. But now I’m thinking about how I always mean to post pictures here password protected on my weblog or friends only on livejournal, but half the time I forget. I think I’m going to be going through my archives today.

And I know I’m being overly paranoid because it is not as if any real harm would come to her or that I’ve ever posted any of the sort of pictures that these people would want, but it’s just so disgusting and ugly that I need to do something. What I really want to do is hit someone or hurt someone because someone out there deserves it.

I can’t imagine what the mother’s whose children are there must be feeling with pictures of their own children they posted in all innocence for other mothers to ooh and awe over being used for that sort of thing.

O’Connor to resign from Supreme Court.

I feel like crying today. I was quite happy just a few minutes ago before I turned on my computer and read the news.

From the article:

On Friday, Bush said he is looking for candidates “who meet a high standard of legal ability, judgment and integrity, and who will faithfully interpret the Constitution and laws of our country.”

Did anyone else here the silent “the way we tell them to” on the end of that?

I certainly have compassion for her situation and can understand wanting to spend more time with a husband facing Alzheimer’s, but part of me is screaming, “couldn’t you have waited just a few more years?”

I hope she’s the only one. I’m afraid she won’t be.