They could probably smell me from down the street.
Frazzled mom with chubby-cheeked, curious infant and active, tail-wagging pooch.
Just desperate enough to endure over two hours of a vacuum presentation in order to get the carpets cleaned and shampooed for free as part of the demonstration.
I resisted the urge to be a smart ass when he asked inane questions like, "Would you like to get rid of the dirt in your carpet?" (Actually, no, then it would be harder for the daffodils I've planted there to grow.) I did have to laugh, though, when he asked if I vacuum the carpet once a week. Right, I also get an oil change every 3,000 miles and make dinner for the family on a regular basis. Who do I look like, Martha Stewart?
I will say two things about the presentation, though. First, that is one butt-kicking vacuum. If I ever win the lottery -- not enough to afford a maid, but enough to spend $1800 on a cleaning machine -- I will totally get one. Second, Oprah was right. The stuff hidden in your mattress is NASTY!
In other news, we hit two milestones recently. First, it's been just over a month since I quit my job. The bank hasn't foreclosed on our home yet, so I guess we're doing okay. And I still love it, love it, love it. Why on earth did I even spend a minute of my life questioning this? I don't have to go to work! Duh! I make sure I thank DH every night for agreeing to let me stay home. I'm really surprised at how natural of a transition it's been, considering how much I do enjoy my profession. I just absolutely adore spending time with my little Bean buddy. Each day when I hold him in my arms, it seems that I can't possibly love him any more than I do at that moment... but the next morning, sure enough, it happens. Cheesy but true.
Which brings me to milestone number two, Bean turned seven months old yesterday. SEVEN. Why does that sound so much older than six months? He's getting so big, it's hard to imagine that he'll soon be crawling and walking and talking. We have made HUGE strides in our naptime routine, he is now taking three 1-1.5 hour naps every day with hardly a fuss when I put him in his crib. Consistency was key, for sure. I also started playing Sade in his room, very soothing. (I can sing her entire collection now, as I listen to several hours of it through the baby monitor daily. I'm considering hiring myself out for weddings.) Another contributing factor may have been my mom's suggestion of explaining to him that it's time to take a nap, I won't be far away, and I will come get him right when he wakes up. She is a firm believer in the power of these explanations for both babies and dogs, which I discovered after Evey came back from a month-long stay at her house while we moved out here. The pooch now expects a full commentary (with exploratory sniff) every time I open a package of something or put on my shoes. Anyway, I know there is always another challenge around the corner when you are raising kids, but a well-rested mama with a well-rested baby makes the world of difference.
We also purchased a used treadmill off of craigslist last weekend. I finally reached the point where even I was tired of hearing myself complain about the lingering baby weight. It's been awesome, I wish we would have gotten it sooner! Now that Bean is taking predictable naps, I can hop on during his mid-morning snooze. However, the problem I'm running into (pun intended) is that he only sleeps for an hour, which doesn't give me time to also shower before he wakes up. And he does NOT like it when I shower. As someone who loves to be held close in a baby carrier all day, you'd think he would want me smelling as fresh as possible. Not so. And I just can't bring myself to get up at 5:30 am to workout before he wakes up, either. (If anyone sees a solution to this dilemma, I'm all ears.) The other person affected by my workouts is the dog. She is not quite sure about this treadmill contraption. Sometimes she whines a little bit when I get on it -- not very supportive, if you ask me -- and she spends the duration walking around the machine with an anxious and quizzical look. If only my mom were here to explain to her what I was doing.
Here's my big boy!