Oh to be a man

Helena has been a great sleeper- we've been VERY lucky. I won't get into details because the non-sleeper's parents out there will be at our door with pitch forks by morning.

For whatever reason, over the last couple months, Helena has decided to get up earlier and earlier. I would hardly call it a night waking because it's usually at like 4 or 5 am. This morning it was at 4:30AM. So at 7:30AM when she stirred again, Denver and I had, what has become, our typical morning exchange.

"Wow, she did great sleeping last night."

"Huh?"

"She slept like 12 hours."

"No, YOU slept like 12 hours."

"Oh."

"Right."

Discussion questions:

a) How does he not hear her?
b) How does he not hear me 1) get out of bed to get her and 2) get back into bed afterward?
c) Why is he still so tired after a night of undisturbed sleep?

Oh to be a man.

'Tude

One thing is for sure about my childhood- I had a major attitude problem. Some might argue that I still do, but I would argue back and then it would get ugly.

My mom had the patience of a saint. I mean, I could just push and push and push and sometimes she barely winced at the aggravation I was certainly causing.

In church one Sunday I was doodling on the program per usual when I decided to write my mom a note. Anything to avoid the sermon.

"I don't feel good, I'm not going to school tomorrow."

My mom reads the note and responds, simply: "We'll see."

Undeterred, I reply: "YOU'LL SEE me not going to school tomorrow."

I don't know how she didn't crack up because if Helena passed me a note like that I'd be in tears. I guess she was used to my antics by that point.

The Bumpers

While pregnant, I undertook major domestic tasks such as knitting, sewing, and crib bumper making. I worked hard on those bumpers. So you can imagine my dismay when every health professional we spoke with advised (strongly) against using them in the crib. Desperate to show off my handy work (to who, Helena?), at our 4 month well visit, again, I asked the doctor if I could use the bumpers yet.

"No, never."

At this point I'm adding up all of the wasted hours and dollars I spent putting these things together.

Two months later (now), I put these now famous bumpers on the crib, just to see what happens.

She's never slept better.

Case closed.

Boo-yah.

What would Larry David do?

The other day the credit card machine was bunk at our local coffee shop- I had no cash so the owner (who I am friendly with) just asked that I pay her next time.


Well the next time I came in she wasn't there- it was her new/only employee. I asked this person to charge me double for my coffee and explained the situation. I recieved a blank expression, no acknowledgement of what I was talking about and still paid double.


So then the next time I go in it's the owner working and I feel the need to clarify the situation.


"Hey, just so you know, I was in on Tuesday and your new girl was here and I told her to charge me double from that day your credit card machine was broken."


"Oh don't even worry about it, it's all a wash, I just figure everything evens out in the end."


Now, Larry David would've said, "I don't think you heard me, I paid you and we are even, I don't owe you anything."

Me? I just stood there, stunned by the stupidness of the situation.

My baby is a 6 month old

http://gallery.me.com/kristen.hagan

Very few cliches come true in reality- I mean, not every mustached and tatooed man is an escaped convict, though I treat them all as if they were. But when it comes to babies, time really does fly.

Humor Helps

Thank God for humor, where would we be without it? Humor turns awkward moments into fond memories and helps to heal wounds, big and small. My mom had an incredible sense of humor, one that I have been lucky enough to adopt. She was always playing tricks and teasing John and I as kids, me especially it seems. This would explain why I'm so much funnier than my brother today. Her life was super blog worthy- so I thought I would share a few especially memorable stories from our time together.

Our Sunday tradition growing up was early service church and then brunch- usually at a local restaurant called Betty's, but occasionally we only made it to McDonald's. One Sunday in particular we ended up at McDonald's and my dad was out of town. John must have been sitting down at a table already because I was the only witness to the events that followed.

Keep in mind, we were close to being regulars at this one particular McDonald's, and this was pre-Super Size Me.

On this particular day the manager was keen on my mom. He gave us unparalleled customer service and stopped his duties just to let my mom know how beautiful he thought she was.

My mother was not good at being complimented and just sort of shrugged it off. Plus, she was a married woman with child.

"No, I'm serious," as he looked her dead in the eye and super serious, "you are really, really beautiful." It was borderline psycho.

I don't remember how my mom explained the encounter to me, but I know that we laughed about it for years. Mostly we laughed about how it's one thing to be told you are beautiful, but something different entirely when the suitor is a manager at McDonald's.