Multi-tasking

Here is what happens when you decide to switch the laundry over while toasting hamburger buns under the broiler:

Here is what happens when you decide to give it another go and toast new buns...and then decide to empty and refill the ice cube trays in the freezer:

And here is what happens when the fire alarm goes off directly over where your baby is napping:

Porky Porter

Last week I went back to work part-time until the end of busy season.  Porter stays with my mom while I'm at work (thanks Mom!) and they seem to be enjoying each other's company.

Since Porter usually nurses, we had little idea of how much my mom should feed him in a bottle while I'm at work.  According to one website, "the rule of thumb is to offer him 2.5 ounces of formula per pound of body weight each day."

Porter weighs about 16 pounds.  16 x 2.5 = 40 ounces.  He's still on a 3 hour feeding schedule, or 8 times a day.  This equates to roughly 5 ounces a feeding.

Well, apparently I gave birth to the next Augustus Gloop.  Porter is averaging 8 ounces per feeding.  Today he even drank 10 ounces just 2 1/2 hours after I nursed him.

At first I blamed his Rohbock genes.  Then I realized I myself was eating everything in sight.  I ate breakfast at home before I dropped Porter off at my mom's.  When I got to work I was starving.  I ate two of my three snacks before 9 AM.

By the time lunch rolled around I was starving and I downed my meal in minutes.

Two hours later I was famished again.  I tried to ration my last snack but it only lasted about 30 minutes.

Lucky for me, my parents had dinner ready when I got to their house and they let me eat with them.

So apparently Porter inherited his insatiable appetite from me.  At least I can blame his hunger on a possible growth spurt.  Can we blame mine on his growth spurt, too?



Disclaimer: Nate is worried Porter will be deeply offended by this post in future years.  So Porter, if you are reading this, he had nothing to do with it.

And I love you, my little Augustus!

I am Woman

Yesterday I successfully patched the tire of Porter's stroller.  This was my first successful tire-patch job ever.

My success made me recall my first (and last) attempt to patch a tire. I was a teenager and my bike had a flat.

I pulled the tire off the rim and pulled out the inner tube.  I don't remember how I found the hole because I know I didn't use the stick-it-in-the-sink-full-of-water-and-look-for-bubbles method.  But somehow I identified where the hole was and I stuck the patch on it.  The problem was, the patch didn't stick.

So what did I do?

Well, according to the Red Green show (which my siblings and I were faithful followers of at the time) duct tape is the handy-man's secret weapon.

Yep, I duct taped the patch to the inner tube.

Then I struggled to put the tire BACK onto the rim.  Have you EVER tried doing that?  It is no easy feat. After I finally got the tire on the rim I pumped it full of air and then took the bike for a spin.

I discovered that duct tape does not a wheel-patch make.  I was disgusted with the whole situation, put the bike back in the shed, and rode my sister's bike instead.

This whole experience occurred probably nine or ten years ago.  Since then I've avoided flat tires like the plague.  Until this week.

It is amazing what demons you will face for your child.

At first I just tried pushing the stroller with a flat tire.  But it would list so badly to the left that the muscles in my forearms were starting to get sore.  I didn't even know those muscles could get sore.

So yesterday I broke down and pulled the tire off the rim and took the inner tube out.  Then I identified the hole using the stick-it-in-the-sink-full-of-water-and-look-for-bubbles method.  When I couldn't see bubbles right away I knew I was destined to fail at my task.  I'm just not a good tire-patcher I thought.  But then I saw the tiny little bubbles!

I took the little metal scraper that came with the patch-kit and roughed up the area around the hole, per the instructions.  Then I put the patch on the tube, stuck the tube back in the tire and struggled to put the tire back onto the rim.  I repeat, have you EVER tried doing that???  It is no easy feat.

After I finally replaced the tire, I pumped it full of air.  I watched with bated breath to see if the tire would retain the air and it did!  Porter and I enjoyed a lovely walk, and the whole time I felt so proud of my accomplishment.

I am woman.  Hear me roar.

Super Bowl and Cutting Corners

This was the first year of my life that I've ever watched the Super Bowl.  (You may recall from my last post that I've already lived a long life, so this may go down in the record books as the longest an American has ever gone before watching the Super Bowl.)  (Of course, between caring for Porter and visiting with the other women I think I only saw two fumbles and half of a Budweiser commercial.)

Anyway, we got together with some of Nate's friends from school to watch the game.  Nate and I were assigned to provide desserts.  I bought candy and made cookies and cupcakes.  The cupcakes were my masterpiece.  I'm so proud of them and grateful we have cameras so edible creations can be recorded for posterity before they get gobbled.  Because I know Porter's children will want to see pictures of the food I consumed.

I received the inspiration for these cupcakes here.  I say inspiration because I am lazy.  I went for a similar outward appearance but I took shortcuts to get there.

She made her cupcakes from scratch.

I made mine with help from the dough boy.

She made her icing from scratch.

I used the stuff from a can.

But hey, they look similar, don't they??  And I received complements on how good they tasted.  I've never received complements on the taste of any cakes I've made from scratch.

So the moral of this story is: it is possible to watch the Super Bowl without actually watching it and...cutting corners works and yields compliments!

Old Lady

The first week in our new ward (church congregation) another woman approached me.

"How old are you?  You look older than me but I want to make sure," she said.  When I told her my age she sighed in relief.  "Oh good, you are older than me."

A few days later I received this hint in the mail:

Convincing commercials

When I exercise in the morning I often watch I Love Lucy on the Hallmark channel.  This channel also runs a lot of the "As seen on TV" commercials.  Can I tell you, those commercials can be mighty convincing early in the morning?

First there's the Hair Bean, the last brush you'll ever need.  When your hair gets tangled in the wind after you've ridden in a convertible, this brush will transform your hair from a rat's nest to straightened perfection in moments.  And after you've gone swimming without putting your hair in a pony tail, this brush will detangle the soaking disaster.  For someone like me who gets her brush stuck in her hair rather frequently, this sounds like a lifesaver!  And it can be mine for just $9.99!!

Of course, I don't have a convertible OR a pool.

Then there are Eggies.  These will change your life.  You'll go from dull black and white and frizzy hair to bright colors, cute clothes, and a great hairstyle when you quit hard-boiling your eggs the old-fashioned way and begin using Eggies!  Taking the shells off hard-boiled eggs really is labor-intensive I think to myself every time I see this commercial.  How much better would my life be if I bought this product??  Luckily my dad tested this one out for me and proved the old-fashioned method is the time-saver.

I've also found radio commercials to be equally convincing.  How many times have I been convinced to buy a home, get lasik, have laser-free fat removal, or change my insurance?  Pretty much every time I get in the car!

So there you have it.  I am easily swayed by commercials.  If you ever write one, send it to me and I'll probably be first in line to buy your product.  Or at least to think about buying your product.  Nate thanks his lucky stars every day that I'm not an impulse shopper.  Otherwise our house would be full of "As seen on TV" products.

Christmas Project

The last day of finals Nate came home and solemnly said, "I'm going to grow a Christmas beard."

And so he did.

He stuck through the itchy phase just to (reluctantly) shave it off on Monday night before school and his internship started.  It came off in stages which we documented for our posterity and for our loyal blog readers.  (Okay, the blog part was my idea, not his.)