wohog spam

What's a wohog? Wohog is part of the email address for my O.B. He is also known as the Wolanski, the Wollymanski, or in the O.R. they call him Fast Eddie. Seriously? C-section, hello?! Not too fast, please. At my postpartum check up, while sitting on the exam table donning a most unattractive royal blue tablecloth with a hole in the middle for my head, I'm asked, "Do you like Obama?" Ughhh?? Pardon? Did you check my incision yet??! The next 15 minutes of political rant, by the wohog, concluded with me writing my email address down for him. He wanted to ensure that I was alerted to the local tea party gatherings.

52 emails since July 10th later...!!!!

I'm not kidding. I just counted them. I feel bad blocking his emails, but I really can't take anymore forwards ya'll.

Here are some recent pictures that were forwarded.







What should I do??? Is there a way to no longer receive emails without him knowing??

we have arrived

The boy is three months old!

Milestones:

- a consistent schedule!!! EASY street! Eat. Activity. Sleep. Perfect!

7:00, 10:00, 1:00, 4:00, 7:00, 11:00

For the last two and half weeks John has slept through the night every night. My plan is to drop the dreamfeed in the next 4 weeks or so. Naps must continue to take place on the go till school starts for Grace in September. I'm o.k. with it because he doesn't seem to have any trouble sleeping in his car seat.

- he fell off my bed causing a complete mommy melt down hysteria

I placed him in the middle of my bed while I got dressed for church on Sunday. I heard him fall and ran around the corner. He was facedown on the floor, hit his head on the bassinet, and was doing the scary, horrible, I hurt myself cry. I completely lost it. I started shaking and sobbing. Immediately thinking the absolute worst case senarios, I frantically ran across the street to our sweet neighbors house and banged on their door. They were so kind to me. Our neighbor is a doctor and has that calm no stress response thing. He took a look at John. No longer crying. Biggest smile you've ever seen. Of course. I felt like an emotional basket case for intruding on them, shaking and crying, holding my infant who had fallen off my bed. Brittany. Disaster. I have no idea how on earth he fell from my bed. He was not near the edge and he cannot roll over yet.

- he spits out the pacy every time! No worries, he falls asleep so easily! All we have to do for naps and bedtime is lay him down, unswaddled in his bed. Really? Yes. Mark and I swaddled Grace till age 3 or something ridiculous. Not this time!

- he is outgrowing everything at a rapid rate

I bought some of the circo sleep and plays in 3-6 months this week and after washing they just fit. I'm thinking I would have been better off with the 6-9 months. I'll spare you any more details on that. You get it.

- He received his first round of immunizations at the doctors office at the two month check up. I had all these grand intentions of researching alternative immunizations schedules like Marta did. Marta, I'm so impressed. You must be one of those super moms you wrote about! I showed resistance to the Hep B especially. I finally caved when the Doctor said, "If you really love your children you'll get them immunized." What else could I have done? John was so brave and took the shots like a man. I think he cried for 10 seconds. It reminded me of his circumcision. They told me, in my post-surgical haze, that John would want to nurse right after the circumcision because he would be so upset and need to be soothed. Poor baby! Of course. Mark and the Wohog (Wolanski's email name), my OB, took the babe to have it done. I assumed the position and sat with the Boppy ready to receive a hysterical little bundle. About 5 minutes later Mark rounds the corner with John in his plastic basinet. Totally asleep. WHAT?! Are you kidding me? Forget it Mom. I got this one.

John,

Mommy is crazy about you! I just love you to pieces. Daddy, Grace and I spend the day trying to make you smile, which is not hard at all. You are such a happy baby. You sleep through the night, take naps easily, love your bath, only cry when you are really hungry. This week I dressed you in two different collegiate onesies and imagined you going off to college someday. I hope you are smarter than your mommy and can get into UVA so that you can go to Portico! How cool would that be?! I can already tell that I'm going to be that mom who sobs the whole way home after dropping you off. You are my best buddy. The other day, we danced around the living room to the Jack Johnson Curious George soundtrack. I loved every minute of it. You were smiling and cooing and looked so adorable. The thought occurred to me that only I would remember that moment...which is good because I was in my jammies, needed to wash my hair and had no makeup on. I love you!!

Mommy


O.K. BLOG-O-SPHERE. SPILL THE BEANS. TO CELEBRATE JOHN'S THREE MONTH MILESTONES, IF YOU HAVE A BRITTANY SPEARS MOMENT, SHARE IT!! NO CONDEMNATION.

Walking the PLANK with Octomom

I have an unhealthy love for birthday party goodie bags. Relate? Ever since the fresh days of youth, I have always had a deep appreciation and heightened anticipation for a well stuffed goodie bag to blissfully bring home at the end of another celebrated year gone by. Cake, ice cream, and Pin the Tail on the Donkey were all merely distractions- I was a girl with a GOAL. Like a pirate I would hunt down the birthday bounty, delighting in the candy, sticker, and spider ring treasures. Even now, (30 candles later) I still crave the taste of a take-home treat. So, what possibly could be so bad about a goody bag? Apparently plenty, as the good Lord revealed to this prideful pirate just this past weekend.


So there I was, perched like a peacock on my sofa atop a PILE of goody bag paraphernalia. I was knee deep in candy necklaces, candy lipsticks, starfish lollipops, heart shaped glitter sunglasses, fish bubbles, and assorted aquatic stickers. I was fully submerged in the joy of preparing the most amazing goodie bags for my soon to be 4 yr old's 'Mermaid Princess Pool Party.' The pinnacle piece de la resistance was kept last,... yes, I couldn't resist... a stack of hand sewn, hand sequined, mermaid dolls complete with the most fantastic rastafarian red tresses you have ever seen. Glassy eyed I sat stuffing the goods as I day dreamed all the reactions on the faces of each lucky recipient. I could almost hear all their Oooh's and Ahh's!!! Not just of the children mind you- truth be told, I even imagined my mom friends' faces, tinged algae-green with envy over my creative talents on full display.


Sadly, once finished, I couldn't even pack those darlings away! I was so self-glorifyied that I let them sit on the coffee table so I could admire my handiwork during each commercial break. Just look at what I had created! Maybe I should name them? I need to take a picture. Aren't they just precious! Where's the camera? Then it happened...


On t.v. was a Fox News anchor talking about an upcoming special on the infamous Octomon: Nadya Suleman. Remember her?



"Octomom Nadya Suleman admits she "never" thought about the future and airs her deep regret for her latest round of multiple births in an interview that will air on Fox during a two-hour special, 'Octomom: The Incredible Unseen Footage,' on August 19.
"I screwed myself," she said. "I screwed up my life, I screwed up my kids' lives...What was I thinking?"

I am sure you all remember this woman. The transcripts of MY past judgments of her came rushing back:

This lady is nuts!
What she did is the definition of selfish.
How much attention does she need?
She's only thinking about herself, not the lives of these helpless babies.

...sound familiar? Just then my eye was drawn to my box of EIGHT perfect mermaid dolls. It hit me - Oh dear, I have become the real OCTOMOM!!! I didn't know wether to laugh or cry at God's way of getting my attention. (Ouch). Between me and Fox t.v. sat the Ariel jury ready with my verdict: GUILTY. How dare I sit here and condemn this woman for the decisions she has made in her life, when obviously I have plenty of sin in my own life to deal with. Pridefulness, vanity, idolatry, just to name a few. (Ouch trifecta.) In that moment God in His grace provided me the perfect teachable moment.

1"Do not judge, or you too will be judged. 2For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
3"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?5You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.( Matthew 7:1-5)

Confession: Sin is a 2 way mirror for me sometimes. I can easily see out, but can't see inside quite as clear. Thankfully the one who made me knows how I tend to operate and has the patience to fix me. Oh Father God, thank you for teaching me in ways I can understand!

Sanctification trumps a spider ring any day ladies. Here's to craving the Good News more than the goodie bag! ;)

~Zee Hausfrau

shamelessly seeking comments

No able-bodied individual should ever abstain from a water slide. You simply cannot simultaneously hold on to your negativity and bitterness while careening down a shoot at lightning speed. I had a coupon for one family visit to acac adventure central and I figured that tonight was as good a night as ever to redeem it. Just so you know, I am most definitely a rule keeper. I made sure to check with the lanky teen-dream lifeguard to make sure it was O.K. if adults rode the slide. I asked with much joy and got a flatline response. I think she should have been more tickled over my desire to ride the slide. Whatever. It was for my mental health anyways. I made sure to have hubs document the descent so as to post it on the blog. Not that you would have doubted me if I told you.

She takes the platform.





Maintained the minerals. PTL I did not have to go under the water!

is this wrong??

*hanna anderson fur lined snow boots and keen canvas sneakers are not featured

trying to...

I've been wanting to write a post or two about "trying" to have a baby. This is a sensitive topic in general, and it certainly is for many of my friends right now. I found it interesting that if you type "trying" into the search engine of google the first words that follow are "to conceive" and "to get pregnant." Not surprised. So here are some categories to consider. Couples, I think, will find themselves in one of these life stages.

A. The thought of conceiving terrifies them for various reasons.
B. They don't have children yet, want them, and wonder when the right time is to start trying.
C. They want to have children and for countless reasons are unable to.
D. They have a child or children and are debating the prospect of another.
E. They are indifferent on the issue.
F. They are perfectly content wherever it is they are at.

Mark and I have found ourselves in each one of those categories at one time or another. I can refer back to specific conversations, and circumstances surrounding those times. I realize how all consuming and difficult this issue can be. So many factors, so many emotions, so much hangs in the balance or imbalance for that matter. These are the times me and my girlfriends are in. Right now, in a lighthearted way, I'm actually in each category except B. I think that makes me a poor candidate for making sense of the madness. No matter. This is my blog after all.

I'm not sure where to go with this tonight. I don't have time for a comprehensive evaluation. I just thought I'd pitch it out there into the great wide blog-o-sphere and see where it lands. More to come.

why not write about the Anne girl

I read recently that in order to write about life you have to live it. I like that, I suppose. I know what is meant by it anyway. When I was in fifth grade, our teacher told us that our writing would be best if we wrote about something we knew, something that was familiar to us. At the time, the Anne of Green Gables series was my reverie. I caught the kindred spirit and all I could think to write about was The Lake of Shinning Waters, or chicken salad at The White Sands Hotel, none of which I knew or was familiar with. It was the story I wanted to live and therefore write about. A girl, a woman, who saw beauty, yielded to it, and led others to see it and treasure it too.

Christ be praised, those of us who are saved have the unspeakable privilege of beholding Beauty. Namely, Christ Himself. The Treasure. The Beauty. The One and Only. Jesus. Every great story is but an echo of the eternal drama that is the Gospel of God. You and I don't have to wish for a better life to live and write about. The real deal is ours for the taking, ours for the living. We get to drink it in and pour it out to the last drop, just like red currant wine. It really doesn't get any better. All that is glorious, all that is richness, depth, meaning, nuance, rhythm, harmony, contrast, truth, simplicity, humility, strength, love, drama, purity, precision, perfection. King of Kings, Lord of Lords. You name it. He gets to be the great adventure of all of living. By some miracle, I get that after a day spent on the three hour nurse-a-thon schedule, WHAL-E, and heaven knows how many loads of laundry and cups of coffee. I still want to live the story, dark roots and all, don't you? Let's you and I behold Him, yield to Him, and lead others to see and savor Him as well.

If all that seems like a fail, perhaps it's time to pop in that magical series and be carried away again like the Lady of Shallot. It is good for the soul and if we let it, will stir our affections for Christ.

John 21:25

"Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books..."

3-6 months??

My boy is already two months old. He has outgrown all his 0-3 month outfits and rendered mommy somewhat dissatisfied with her purchase of $50 worth of polo 0-3 month one piece rompers from TJMax. I have seriously contemplated altering them into polo shirts by cutting off the bottom snap portion so that he can still wear them as shirts. Home spun? Yes. I talked myself out of it, don't worry.

Kids clothes sizing can mess with you. I have had many a moment when I really think I'm dumber. None of you are surprised. I promise it is really complex. Factors to consider:

Hand me Downs

-Do I even like this article of clothing?
-Does this color make my child look pale and sickly or adorable?
-What season/month would my child wear this and will it fit them then? I guess he'll still be that size??? Maybe he will fit into that then??
-Certain brands run smaller/larger than they are labeled. Even though this says it is 6-9months it is really 9-12, or it is 3-6. Then the corresponding seasonal analysis repeats itself in light of the virtual re-size.
- Even though I don't like this, should I keep it? Do I need this?
- The items you don't want then get washed and folded and decisions must be made as to who of your friends most needs them, would want them, and the virtual seasonal/size analysis takes place for their kid. If they don't need/want them then you reevaluate. Thoughts of yard sales and craig's list and ebay then run through your brain until you have waisted time thinking and/or blogging about it. Clothes pile up in your closet.

New Items

- Is this worth the price?
- Can I afford this? Is this an investment item that could be justified to hubs?
- Does my child need this or do I just like this?
- If it is on sale and you are buying ahead of season you must do the virtual sizing exercise in your head. This is especially difficult when buying shoes.

Example. I bought a pair of See Kai Run sandals at half off from Whimsies. I love these shoes! At $40 retail I would never buy them full price, but $20 is nearly Target pricing. Right? Right??! The shoes are a size 3. The size guide in Whimsies said size three is for 6-9 months. John will be 6-9 months during the months of Nov-Feb. It is cold during those months. How "sandalish" are these anyway? Could they be worn with socks? Grace's shoe size always ran small and these look on the big size. I wonder if he would fit these for Spring, months 9-12, Feb-June? How accurate is this sizing sheet posted on the back wall of Whimsies anyway? Is that too much to spend even at $20? I'm buying them so far out and have no idea if he will be gargantuan or not. Maybe Jen Boggs would want to sell these on ebay? Are these a good color brown? His eyes are blue. Maybe I should hold out for a blue on sale shoe because I will probably be dressing him more in blue.

See what I mean? All this mental gymnastics happens while trying to regulate Grace and convince her not to touch anything in the heavenly store full of delightful items while I burn a hole into the See Kai Run shoe box. I inspect the shoe from all angles. I put it up against his tiny infant foot and try to imagine how big his feet might grow. I put the box down. I pick it back up. I buy the shoes/sandals. I consider returning them.

INSANITY!!!

Should I keep these?? What do YOU think??

introducing...

I'd like to officially alert you to a most marvelous addition to the blog. Beginning very soon, campbellcrazies will feature the writings of two of my most favorite people. Since Hotlanta Hausfrau could not get her own blog in order, I've asked her to be a contributor here. I have also enlisted my Aunt's prose for an astounding upgrade. Both of these ladies posses teaching giftings and I fully expect you all to be entertained and encouraged by their writings.

Bring it!!

The Hotlanta Hausfrau




The DixieTree

step it up

Sometimes my blog becomes an area on inappropriate guilt and twisted prideful self-loathing. Anybody? No one should ever feel guilty for not blogging or for writing a pitiful post, and yet, I find myself in that all too familiar place. Ridiculous!! I'd feel better believing you all suffer from the same condition, but I'm not convinced. It seems that many of the blogs I read feature detailed descriptions of blow by blow (literally, one of the blogs I love to read recently discussed the sadness felt when her darling daughter graduated out of breast-milk poops to stinky poops) details outlining all the splendid, or not so splendid happenings in their hearts and homes. I'm not saying I don't have splendid things to write about. I do! For the life of me, I can't seem to get them all down in a succinct, readily readable format. When it comes time to select something to blog about, my mind short circuits with all the potential. The result is lackluster linking to something better than my blog, or sorry shout-outs for local coffee shops. Sadness!

Thinker types, like me, have a propensity to over-think. When life is full, busy and weighty, thinker types suffer from thinking overload. There is just too much of life to process that the opportunities for expression shut down and the thoughts stay flying a million miles a minute inside the head of the thinker. Life digested becomes at best a bulleted list (as featured below) cause there is no time to give it all paragraph size justice. Maybe this is why many artists, writers and musicians are melancholy? There is just too much! Impression without expression = depression. That's where I'm at. Much of life these days has made an impression, and I have not grabbed hold of the blog to let it all out.

Right about now you are disliking this blog as much as I am.

No one has time to read paragraphs anyways (unless they are about poop). So, here is my bulleted list of life these days.


- Just realized that it is time to get ready for church. I must re-heat my second cup of coffee and get some conditioner on my hair that tones down brassiness. Clearly, no more time to blog.

Here is a picture to showcase my brassy, over-processed blonde hair, pushing 30 facial lines, and oh so pained expression.