tinkerpooped.

When the moosh first switched over from a crib she’d fall out of bed, then run into the wall trying to find her way back into bed. It was very funny to hear from downstairs.
*BOOM*shuffle shuffle*THUMP*WHAA!*
We then installed a ramp of pillows so she’s simply roll out of bed instead of fall out of bed. I highly suggest this.
  • There are two types of sleepy kids in this world, those that fall asleep anywhere and those that will only fall asleep in (or somewhat nearby) their bed. I have the latter.

(Good thing she started out low.

  • If you are a parent to a child who only falls asleep in their bed, many pictures must be taken of the child when they are asleep anywhere but their bed because this phenomenon is much like spotting the Loch Ness Monster or a full toilet paper roll if you’re married.

the daddy konk.
the carseat konk
tinkerpooped

  • A child will weigh an additional ten times its age in pounds when asleep. For example, a 30 lb. three year old will weigh 60 lbs. when sleeping. (3 years x 10 addl. pounds per year +30 lbs. =60 lbs.) Multiply by two if you have to hold said child for any amount of time over ten minutes.

the dead weight konk.

(She weighs about 374 lbs. in this photo.)

  • Nothing can cure an exasperated mother’s heart better than seeing her child asleep. It gives one the belief that, yes, you can do this again tomorrow and that kids, at some point, do hold still and shoosh.

it sleeps.

Which is why most little brothers and sisters are made at night. When your current child is tricking you with their sweet angelic face and sleep farts (or giggles, depending on what you had for dinner.)

inseCURE.

I hate my knees.

They are soft and chubby with just a little too much extra, flab

I keep them covered by pants, dresses, boots, long shorts, you name it. I deny the existence of my chubby knees. Who cares what they look like as long as they work right?

I also don’t appreciate how large my nose is. Never have. 

In my entire life I have never had a mean comment come back to me on either my nose or my chubby knees. No one has based their friendship with me on the size of my honker or how well I can pull off a miniskirt (which BTW, FAIL.)

The older the moosh gets the smarter that little kid gets. If she likes someone’s shoes, she tells them. She doesn’t care where they came from or how much they cost. She doesn’t even care if they’re covered in Barney and sing Wiggles theme songs. If she likes them, she says so.

I try my best to compliment someone as soon as the thought enters my head, but there’s times that I keep it to myself. Either because I’m feeling a bit selfish/insecure or because I don’t want to actually admit that “Wow, I really like your Acid Washed jeans with glittery butterflies!” because my own pride says that I can’t admit that I actually do like acid washed jeans with bejeweled insects.

In Disneyworld, the moosh didn’t care where little girls got their costumes from. She was just as excited to bond over a Cinderella dress from the thrift store as she was to bond with a little girl who’s mom just paid $200 for her to get gussied up at Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique.

She never cares what someone is wearing at the playground or what car they rolled up in. She doesn’t care if they have homemade PB&J or organic take out from the trendiest cafe for lunch. She only cares if she has fun playing with them. She never cares if someone has a big house full of fancy toys or a small apartment with only a basket of Happy Meal toys. What she cares about is how much fun she’ll have with whomever lives in that house. (Okay, so you kind of have to have dress ups in your house to win her over. Even if it’s just a pair of shoes.)

She never sees color in her friends. If anything she only notices hair texture, and even then she could care less if they have curly hair or no hair. As long as she has fun playing with them.

She has plenty of toys and loves a good movie. But the most fun she had today was dancing with me to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer in the living room until she giggled so hard she fell over.

When I look at her I wonder what the hell my problem is.

I asked her a month ago “What’s your favorite thing people can do?” 

“Play with me.” was her answer. She didn’t even have to think about it.
sproing.
I’m going to be spending a lot of time learning to think more like a four year old and less like a jerk.

HP Magic Giveaway.

Let’s say I have $6,000 worth of HP technology sitting in my living room.

Because I do.

Now let’s say that I’m going to be giving away all $6,000 worth of HP technology that is sitting in my living room TO ONE PERSON.

Let’s pretend that one person could be YOU.

Because it could be.

Seriously.

What do I call this opportunity? Magic.

That’s what sponsor HP and co sponsor Microsoft Windows Live call it too.

Yes. I am one of the 50.

moosh in indy. is lucky enough to be one of fifty blogs involved in HP’s Magic Giveaway for the holidays. 49 other blogs have been or will be reviewing and then giving away the same $6,000 package of technology. All 50 blogs will have different rules and entry guidelines, some will be in different languages. And yes, you can enter them all (but you can only win one.)

Gotta Be Mobile
Barb’s Connected World
Geek.com
Gear Live
Neowin
Small Biz Vista
JK On the Run
BostonPocketPC
Notebooks.com
Geekzone
I Started Something
Bleeping Computer
The Gadgeteer
Planet x64
Digital Home Thoughts
Digital Inspiration
Geeks!
MediaBlab
Geek News Central
The Digital Lifestyle
GearDiary
Last 100
Geeks To Go!
Liliputing
OSNN
Slashdot Review
SlashGear
Gadgetell
Windows Connected
Techie Diva
One Day, One Job
Student Bloggers
Study Hacks – Demystifying College Success
HackCollege
Noticias Tech
Eliax
La Bitácora de Erwin Ried
Carlos Alberto
InfoWester
GeeksRoom
CíberPrensa
Unión de Bloggers Hispanos
Living – In Theory
moosh in indy. (hi!)
Morningside Mom
Thoughts on poetics & tech
Techmamas
Stop, Drop & Blog
Down-to-Earth Mama
merlot mom

Our biggest hope and only requirement?

That you share. Share the magic that is winning $6,000 worth of computers, software and hardware. Let’s face it, no one needs $6,000 worth of HP technology. Want? SURE! But need? No. The prize package includes:

Hardware

HP TouchSmart IQ816 PC
HP HDX 18 series Premium Notebook PC
HP MediaSmart Connect
HP Pavilion dv4 series Entertainment Notebook PC (with Windows Live)
HP Mini 1000 (with XP)

Accessories

HP Photosmart C6380 Wireless AIO (printer)
• HP 564 Photo Value Pak

Software

• Microsoft Windows Vista Ultimate/Home Premium or Microsoft Windows XP pre-installed on all units (Mini 1000 runs XP)
• Microsoft Office Home and Student Edition 2007 (Student-Teacher Edition) – 1 DVD with 3 licenses
• Microsoft Windows Live
Corel VideoStudio X2

Entertainment

Kung Fu Panda (2 widescreen DVDs; 1 widescreen Blu-ray disc)

Total value: >US$6000

That’s right. Four computers. Oodles of other stuff. One person.

Let’s face it. The economy is crap. As much as you and your family may want, or even need a new computer, it’s just not a reality for a lot of people right now. Now imagine winning four. Maybe all you needed was one. Maybe you wanted two. What about the other two? Think about it. Who could you pass the magic on to?

A teacher? A church? An after school program? An elderly neighbor? A family who has lost everything? Someone who gives so much of themselves and never asks for anything in return? Maybe someone else who entered this giveaway and compelled you with their story.

HOW TO ENTER (these are my rules, and they only apply and qualify you for the giveaway here, at mooshinindy.com):

I want to know. Who would you share all this magic with and how would you do it?

  1. Compose a post on your own blog, telling me what you would do with $6,000 worth of the latest HP technology. Who would you share with and why? Creativity counts, but it’s not everything. I’m going to be awarding this prize package to whomever captures the magic of sharing the most. Don’t have a blog? Go ahead and compose your entry in 200 words or less and post it here in my comments section, leaving a valid email in the email field. Video entries on YouTube, posts on MySpace and Facebook will also be accepted.
  2. Somewhere in your post mention and link to HP’s Magic Giveaway along with a mention and link to this post on moosh in indy. When your post is published, leave a link to your entry, wherever it may be, with your name and valid email address in the comments section below.
  3. Contest is open NOW! and will run through 10 p.m. EST December 9th, 2008. Comments will close at 10 p.m. EST on December 9th, 2008. So get to it.
  4. That’s it.

THE NOT SO FINE PRINT:

  • My family, friends and people I know in real life are not eligible. Sorry dudes. It’s just not fair. But you are more than welcome to enter any or all of the other 49 giveaways. (Although you can only win one.)
  • Anyone who doesn’t fall into the above category, in any part of the world, is eligible to enter.
  • All taxes will be taken care of by HP.
  • You must SHARE part of the prize package with someone who isn’t you, preferably someone who doesn’t even live in your house. While I have no way to police you once the prizes leave my doorstep, I can assure you that if you don’t share, bad juju’s will follow you all the days of your life. Okay, so I can’t even promise that, just don’t be a selfish jerk okay? You’re a lucky fool if you win all this stuff. PAY IT FORWARD.
  • The winner must provide me with a real street shipping address, P.O. Boxes will not be accepted. Items you choose to share can be shipped to the person directly at no cost to you (and is actually preferred. Who doesn’t love getting magic surprises in the mail?)
  • By entering, the winner agrees to provide me, within two weeks of receipt of the prize,  a 250 word story (at least) on what happened when they shared one or more of the products. Their story will be posted on moosh in indy. at a later date. Stories from those who were surprised with the magic would also be fantastic. Pictures optional, but strongly encouraged. I won’t post any personal information without permission.
  • I have been using (reviewing, coveting, checking out) the hardware (dude, I don’t get to keep any of this stuff) but they will all be restored to factory/like new condition before I ship them.
  • I will pick and announce a winner December 9th, 2008 at 12 a.m. EST.

I will be the sole judge and my decision is final. I cannot be bought with promises of cookies, lavish riches, goods, products or services. So don’t even try. Okay, so you can try, but just know it won’t work.

Has anyone seen my answers?

How much of me wants to be pregnant because I can’t?

This whole pregnancy thing goes in waves. But lately I’ve been beaten in the face with too many “why her and not me?” situations that the whole “WILL CASEY EVER BE PREGNANT AGAIN?” dilemma is beginning to eat a part of my brain previously saved for saving puppies, playing sudoku and baking cupcakes.

My big attitude of “MEH” towards the whole topic was smashed to pieces over the last month when both of my parents and crotchety old grandma asked why Cody and I weren’t producing more awesome with our reproductive parts. They never had to worry about “when” or “how” with babies, they just popped in and came out when they wanted them to. Same with my grandparents. Then there was the lady on the plane.

“So when are you going to make her a little brother?”

REALLY?

PEOPLE ASK CRAP LIKE THAT TO TOTAL STRANGERS?

I know Cody wants more babies, and he wants me to be a mom to more babies, he likes the way I do things. Cody wants to get me pregnant more than any man has ever wanted to impregnate a woman in the history of reproduction. It’s really hard to tell him each month that my body failed at making us more babies yet again.

I want to be pregnant. I liked being pregnant, I liked having that bump, feeling a little person kicking the daylights out of my internal organs. I even miss worrying that I would pop her head open every time I crossed my legs because the little kid decided to LODGE HERSELF in my crotch early on.

I don’t want to be pregnant. I didn’t like knowing what every food on God’s green Earth tasted like in reverse. I didn’t like having to eat only to have something to barf up an hour later. I didn’t like constantly feeling like I had drank my weight in cheap beer. I didn’t like having to plan my life around when and where I’d be when the need to barf hit me. I also didn’t like paying so much freaking money on medicines that only helped me barf a few less times a day.

I want to have another baby. I like babies. I really liked my baby and I really love the little kid that my little baby is growing up to be. I really love my sister and I really want my little kid to have a sister or brother of her own. I like this whole mom gig, while I’m not alway at the top of my game, I feel I put forth a game worth performance.

I don’t want to have another baby. Newborns, sleepless nights, barf, poop, diapers, manners, teething, time-outs…I think you get my point. If I were to stop with the moosh she’d be 18 when I turn 40, plenty of time to become a doctor or an acrobat or something.

Why all this mess and confusion? Why such a teeter totter of emotions?

Because.

Life is confusing and full of sucky sucky trials with no instruction booklet.

In my church back home in Indiana I have watched 46 pregnancies in less than three years. I have watched over a dozen women be pregnant twice, AND THAT’S JUST WOMEN I KNOW FROM CHURCH. There are quite a few women who have a child the moosh’s age AND TWO MORE younger than her. I have watched even more women go through pregnancy on the internet.  (To all the lovely ladies to whom I’m referring, especially the three dozen pregnant ones, I’m happy for you, this is nothing against you, please don’t take it personally. It’s just really hard for me. It’s not your fault you can get pregnant, so quit apologizing.)

Outside my church most women my age don’t have kids. Let alone two. Only in my chosen faith am I the lame duck. It’s not a commandment that women get knocked up young and often in the LDS religion, it’s just what seems to happen. Which leaves a lot of us women of the LDS faith feeling like we missed the booth where they were handing out fertility on our wedding days. 

Which brings me to adoption. I have a fierce admiration for couples who choose to adopt and am always brought to tears when I see a new family made by the sheer awesomeness that is adoption.

But I have never felt like it is for me.

Just as you may feel that a tattoo, marriage, children or Law School may never be right for you.

I wish I just had an answer.

Sometimes I think I won’t get pregnant because I couldn’t handle it, two kids, the PPD, the pregnancy. But then I read that Dooce is pregnant and the bitter hag that resides behind my kidney thinks up all sorts of horrible things. (Totally jealousy talking Heather. Sorry.)

Sometimes I think it’s just not the right time. Law school. Debt. Thousands of miles from family. Crummy insurance. But then I see plenty of other women with no committed partner, no family, drug addictions, no real home, no common sense and no insurance get pregnant. (Not to mention the ones that aren’t even old enough to get a driver’s license.)

Sometimes I think I’ll never be pregnant again and should just move on.

Get over it, you know? Part of me is actually envious when women have an absolute answer to their fertility, either they don’t have the parts, their husband’s don’t make the stuff, or they’ll die if they try. How’s that for an absolute? But that’s not acknowledging all the trials and crummy stuff they have to go through when that news is passed onto them. Surrogates? IVF? Sperm donors? Adoption? 

No one has it easy. 

Sometimes I even think that maybe I birthed my fallopian tubes along with the moosh and have no reproductive organs left. But then my period comes and I’m reminded once again that “DEAR CASEY, YOU STILL HAVE ALL YOUR PARTS AND GUESS WHAT? YOU ARE NOT PREGNANT.”

I used to be optimistic that because my body birthed a healthy baby once, it could totally do it again. Nature didn’t screw up on me, my parts knew how to get pregnant and get that kid out in one piece. 

I still am that kind of optimistic sometimes.

Other times I’m just plain ticked that I know DARN WELL that my body knows how to get pregnant but refuses to.

And then there’s that part of my brain that thinks “You did so well with the first one, why risk getting a dud the second time around?” Don’t roll your eyes at me. Enough mothers have admitted to me that fear of getting a different deal the second time around. (Sometimes even the first time.) While ultimately I would gladly take whatever child God sees fit to bless me with, I wonder what the heck I’d do if I had a kid with straight hair. How would I pick them out of a crowd?

I know my body can get pregnant. I know my husband can get me pregnant. I know that I could provide another little kid with a home, and love, and kisses, and snuggles and bedtime stories and songs and trips to the ice cream store and the best big sister ever. I know I’d do a good job even though I also know I’d second guess my decision every other half hour for the next, oh, until I die.

I’d try and do a really good job, the best I know how to do, if I could only get my womb on one.