Sun Madness

The weather has been unseasonably nice here in Cleveland. Warm, sunny, a nice breeze. Heaven. Unfortunately, heaven also comes with sun madness, a disease that makes you want to buy a crappy convertible and play hooky for 4/5ths of the work week.

(BTW, I've got a personal blog that will probably update more often than Nerdmama, and you can view it here: http://www.toribeth.com. A lot of it currently deals with sun madness.)

Pax and I have been out and about a lot because of the sun madness. We visited the zoo last Wednesday, and we've been out for daily walks--sometimes, twice a day! We had a big family walk last night with my husband and the dog... after a short walk in the afternoon and a walk to visit grandpa in the morning. I'm going to have killer thighs by the time the clouds roll back in.

Last Saturday, we got some sandwiches and took Pax on his first visit to the lake. In retrospect, it might have been a bit soon, because he got sand everywhere, but it was so nice out and I think Pax really enjoyed himself. He regarded the still-frigid lake as a giant bath and splashed around without much care for the cold. I can't wait until he's a bit bigger and can toddle around in the sand and not try to eat the rocks.

I also finally took the leap of buying the big carseat. My tiny VW Rabbit now sports a rear-facing Britax Marathon Classic in the backseat. It's, um... it's interesting. More on that later, maybe. The good news is, at least it fits. Kind of.

School and things are still trucking along, I am still running myself ragged, etc. etc. I have an interview next Thursday for an internship at the art museum--I am VERY excited for the opportunity and will probably be antsy until the interview. This weekend, my husband and I are joining my German class to go see a movie at the international film festival (and maybe we'll have dinner, too). That will be fun, I'm sure. And then the rest of this weekend... homework. Soooo much homework.

I need to clear off my camera's memory card, then I want to post some photos of baby at the zoo, baby at the beach, etc. One moment, please...

Marathoning.

Somewhere between finals, the death of Salvador, the baptism party, Christmas Eve, Christmas, Christmas dinner, visiting family in southern Ohio, New Year's Eve, New Year's Day, my dad's birthday and now I seemed to have developed some sort of mental impairment toward anything that could possibly be construed as "work". Mid-December to the second week of January always seems like some sort of impossible rush that I somehow muddle through each year without really remembering it, but this time around it was especially difficult.

Then I get about a week of actual vacation and school starts again.

I am actually pretty psyched about this semester. Art history seminar students are getting semester loans on iPads, which is really cool, especially since my other art history class this semester is online. I'm hoping the iPad will let me get out of hauling my ancient PowerBook back and forth to campus everyday, as that computer is probably the reason I snapped the straps on three bags last semester.

I am literally staring at my keyboard right now, trying to think of something interesting to say. I'm coming up with nothing. To be honest, I'm in what I like to call "a mood". It's a funny feeling where you feel a bit snippy and completely fed up/exhausted for no reason at all. Maybe I've had too much/not enough vacation.

(Not) The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I've been in college for the past seven years. It is hard for me to get too excited about Christmas until about a week before the holiday, because I have to deal with these things called "final exams". Since I'm an art history major, I also have to deal with these other things called "final papers", which are due maybe a week before I have to take the final exam. Am I the only one who thinks revising a 10+ page paper a week before I have to memorize 75+ slides for an exam is a little unfair? Maybe we could do the paper thing mid-way through the semester? Maybe the paper could be the exam? Something?

On top of that, Paxton is (finally) getting baptized this Sunday and stupid me decided that it would be no problem to throw a party afterward.

And on top of that... my guinea pig died last night. The guinea pig that I'd had since early 2005.

Said pig was elderly and had been sick for awhile (almost a year) with things that would, normally, kill a younger guinea pig with a certain amount of speed. We were beginning to think he was immortal. Sadly, that didn't turn out to be the case. He had a seizure last night, and I took him into the bathroom and held him until it was over. It was one of the saddest things I have ever experienced, honestly.

So now I have a dead guinea pig in an amazon.com box, chilling out in my house because I really have no idea what to do with him. The box won't fit in my freezer--I'm considering putting it in the garage since it is fairly cold outside. Sometime today I will have to call the vet and see about getting him cremated (he was not the sort of animal who would go for being in a box in the ground).

...excuse me, I have to go cry uncontrollably and flunk my math final now.

Salvador Dali

b. 2004 S. Portland, ME

d. 2011 Cleveland area, OH

School Daze.

Reports of my death are, as always, entirely false.

School started again two weeks ago. I have this problem where I keep not graduating from college for one reason or another (and I swear that 75% of the time it is not my fault, either), so I am on year seven of a nine-year Bachelor's degree.

This is how my day plays out:

6:30 AM - Fall out of bed, stagger directly to the kitchen. Stare at coffee maker until I remember how to make it work.

6:40 AM - Having completed vital task #1, turn attention to vital task #2: pee.

6:45 AM - 7:15 AM Make myself lunch--usually pepperoni and cheese on some sort of bread item, a side of celery or carrots, crackers and a piece of soft cheese. Drink coffee. Check the weather, get myself dressed, make sure everything I need for the day is in my bag. Let the dog outside, let the dog inside, feed the dog.

7:15 AM - My husband is now done with his shower and out of the bathroom, so I can do something with my hair and put on some makeup to make it look like I got a full night of sleep.

7:25 AM - One of us gets Paxton, changes his diaper and puts him in the carseat. Then we leave.

7:27 AM - Paxton gets dropped off at grandma's house to be smothered with Chanel-scented, Spanish-speaking, diabetic Methodist* love for the day.

7:45 AM - I get dropped off at the Brookpark Rapid Transit station.

8:10 AM - I board the eastbound train to downtown Cleveland and attempt to attract as little attention as possible in order to avoid ATCs (Awkward Train Conversations) with CTP (Creepy Train People).

8:35 AM - I get off the train and walk through Tower City to get to Public Square, where I wait for the eastbound HealthLine bus.

I get to Cleveland State University sometime around 8:45. Riding the bus is an adventure. It is usually full of... interesting people.

Whenever I get to CSU - 9:30 AM - I sit in the library, making sure that everything is okay on the internet and sometimes talking to my friend Bieler.

9:45 AM - I book it out of the library and across Chester Avenue to the art building, where I sit in a very cold room learning about art since 1968.

10:50 AM - I run from the art building, across Chester, up the stairs and through the main classroom building into the student center and sprint through the campus innerlink to the other side of campus/the business college, where I fall down the stairs and drag my battered body into classroom 127 for German 101.

11:00-12:05 I learn elementary German from a woman with a French name and kick all sorts of ass with the six other female students in the male-dominated subject.

12:15 I make it back to the library, where I either start studying (if I want to stay later) or gather my things and run to catch the HealthLine back to Tower City (if I want my husband to pick me up on his lunch break).

The good news about going home before 4 PM is that the CPT tend not to be there if it isn't rush hour. The bad news is that I have just given you my schedule for three days out of the week. For the other two, this morning routine does not happen, but this afternoon routine does...

1:00 PM - I sit in the back of a lecture hall and pretend to give two shits about math. Actually, I do give at least one shit, because I need to pass the class and math is hard, even if this is the math class for idiots.

2:50 PM - Bieler and I have lunch and try to keep away from other people as much as possible. We are vaguely hermit-like and live in the library.

4:00 PM - I go to the art building, climb the stairs and settle in for two hours of discussion on the Virgin Mary and her place in medieval art and culture. This is more interesting than it sounds, although the sheer amount of reading and writing required for this class is enough to make me cry and want to kill myself.

6:00 PM - Bieler and I gather our things from the library and take the HealthLine to Tower City. She goes east, I go west.

6:45 PM - My husband picks me up from the Rapid station and we go to my parents' house for dinner. My mom offered to cook for us twice a week since my getting home at 7 PM is not really conducive to making healthy food.

********************************************

So... that is my routine lately. It's tiring... and it explains why I haven't been blogging so much. Rest assured, Paxton and I are doing just fine! He just turned four months, and he gets his shots on Tuesday--wish us luck!

*These four things pretty much sum up everything you need to know about my mom.

Frazzle-Dazzle.

To say that I am becoming a bit unraveled would be an understatement.

Tuesday morning, at mom group, I left a note on another mom's car with my phone number. Her son, William, is only a few days younger than Paxton, and when I realized I had to leave suddenly, she was in the restroom, so I did the creepy thing and left a note on her car (I figured the only Saab in the parking lot would have to be the Saab she mentioned at group). She called me maybe... two hours later and left a voicemail.

I haven't called back. I feel horrible about this. You don't leave someone a creepy note asking if they'd like to get together outside of mom group and then not call them back.

The best part is that I did it because I thought school started this week and I wasn't sure I could make it to mom group anymore. Surprise! School starts next week, and I can either call her today and beg forgiveness or I can show up at mom group tomorrow morning looking like a creeper who doesn't call back.

In my defense, I've spent the past week running around, attempting to get all of my loose ends tied up before school... and, in the process, my nerves have become even more frayed.

I learned that I'll have to complete four more semesters of undergraduate study before I can get my BA--thanks to the German language. I am really expected to be fluent in German in four semesters. Hey... whatever (eventually) gets me into the graduate program, right?

I went clothes shopping and tried to find school clothes to cover my (giant) butt. I weigh less than I did before I got pregnant, but am magically two sizes bigger. As you can imagine, it's doing wonders my self esteem--yay, I am so thin, but so large! What?

I did a whole bunch of Avon work, including--gasp--getting off my nervous, antisocial duff to ring some doorbells and meet my neighbors. A feat that I will have to repeat in a couple of hours, actually.

I went to therapy (completely neurotic, remember?), cooked dinners, ran errands, had family visit over the weekend, set up my financial aid package (I think... if I did it correctly), cleaned out my car, fought with my mom (I love my mom) and did a whole bunch of other things that were not calling William's mom.

Sadly, I don't think I'm getting much of a break this week, either... but I will make that phone call.

Avon Calling

My husband and I never have money. This is a fact of life. The couple hundred out of his paycheck left after our rent and bills vanishes after groceries, prescriptions and gasoline.

So I started looking for a job.

I had a number of strikes against me:

1. The economy sucks.

2. I'm a full-time student.

3. I have a baby.

4. My husband and I have one car.

5. I use public transportation to get to school and back.

Try explaining to a potential employer that you need part-time hours worked around classes in the morning and the evening on different days, then add that you might not be able to work sometimes because of you'll need to make different arrangements for childcare every week and then mention that you might be late anyway because you will either be taking the bus/train or you'll need to go pick up your car first. Oh... and you need to go pick your husband with the car at 5 PM, or maybe 5:30 PM, or maybe 6 PM, but you won't actually know until you get there with the car at 5 PM.

Yeah. Small wonder I can't find employment, right?

I'd been thinking about signing up with one of those work-at-home companies. You know, like Scentsy or Pampered Chef or Tupperware or something. I ended up choosing Avon.

Why Avon? Well, when I was little, my mom had an Avon lady who came the house. I liked her. Also, there's a Mary Kay lady around here with one those stupid pink Cadillacs, and she drives like crap. I don't want to associate with someone who drives like crap (and I like Avon's products better, anyway).

I met with my area leadership rep yesterday and officially signed up. My mother immediately bought $80 with of product from me, because she is an Avon addict (that might have also played into my decision to go with Avon). (By the way, my first campaign sales goal was $50. See, I am already a success.)

I'm actually pretty excited to see how this goes. The prospect of being a WAHM is nice--the ability to have a job but not worry about childcare or transportation, the ability to work around when Paxton needs fed/changed/bathed/entertained, and the ability to be able to manage myself (because let's face it, I am not easily ordered around) is very appealing. I'd be nice to make loads of money with it, but I'd be happy with just an extra hundred bucks.

If anyone is interested in buying some Avon, my website is here: http://tbbaughman.avonrepresentative.com ! Avon isn't just makeup, it's also skin care products, perfumes, jewelry, accessories, gifts, clothes, shoes... all sorts of things. Check it out! You get free shipping on your order over $30 right now, and orders ship immediately. :)

My Big, Fat, Nerdy Road Trip

I cannot be held accountable for my actions from now until July seventh. I might attempt to murder someone, but... y'know...

Due to my blatant abuse of the "I am completely neurotic" tag, my readers know that I am, well, completely neurotic. A big part of that has to deal with my obsessive-compulsive need to organize things. (You would not, however, know this from looking at my house.*) I have two dozen little daily rituals that needs to take place at certain times in a certain order and I must plan for everything by making 3,605 lists. Shopping lists, packing lists, to-do lists, I just love making lists. I almost never actually use the lists for anything, I just feel really good about making them.

Seriously, TLC needs to make a TV show about me. My particular brand of batshit is only really unnerving once you realize how pervasive it is. I'm all vanilla-y and boring on the outside, but once you get to the good stuff you'll find a delicious nutbar filling.

Some time ago, in the early days of our marriage, my husband and I flew across the country to Tempe, Arizona to attend the first-ever North American Discworld Convention. Discworld, for the uninitiated, is a book series by the one and only Sir Terry Pratchett. He's British (and therefore awesome), and it took a while for the North American fans to get their act together enough to hop on the Discworld convention bandwagon, so this convention was a big deal. It was also our honeymoon (remember, the blog is called "Nerdmama").

The second convention is taking place three weeks from now in Madison, Wisconsin. I pouted until my husband said we could go (I might be a little obsessed with Pratchett... might be) and then my dad wanted to go... and then my mom said she'd go because my dad was going... and so now my parents, my husband, Paxton and myself are all packing up and going to Wisconsin in three weeks.

I have costumes to finish, a car to clean out and service, money to (attempt to) make, doctors to visit and all sorts of things that need to be done before the seventh, when we pack up the Rabbit and make the 8.5 hour drive to Madison. (Wait, we have a newborn--make that a 11 hour drive to Madison... a 14 hour drive to Madison? Crap.)

We're starting Paxton on the nerd thing early. How many two-month-olds get to meet Sir Terry Pratchett, literary rock star? I'm betting the answer is "not many". I've already started the readings of Where's My Cow?, a book that Pax probably will have memorized by the time he's able to read it himself...

*Unless we made dinner plans two weeks ago, in which case I will have cleaned the house 47 times by the time you come over to see it.

Nerdmama vs. The Tornado

It is good to know that my husband and I work well together in an emergency.

In my last entry, from this morning, I mentioned that it was supposed to storm all day today. What ended up happening was that it was bright and sunny all day, and warm enough to hang my laundry outside, make sun tea, and drive around with my car windows open. Until tonight.

Shortly after 7 pm, I got a phone call from my mother, alerting me to the fact that a tornado warning had been issued for our suburb. The storm was expected to arrive at 7:18. I got off the phone and informed my husband just as the sky darkened and the lights started to flicker.

"Get the pigs into the hallway," he said matter-of-factly. This is the guy who laughe

d at me for taking my guinea pigs into the basement of our old house the last time there was a tornado warning for this area (two years ago, and it didn't even rain).

I took the guinea pigs into the hallway and stuffed the cats into the linen closet as my husband strapped Paxton into his carseat. I stuffed a handful of diapers into our diaper bag and quickly made up a couple bottles of formula, then grabbed the prescription bottles from the kitchen shelf. My husband had dragged the comforter off the bed into the hallway, the pillows soon followed. I grabbed my camera and car keys and started to close and block off the hall doors as my husband leashed the dog, and we all went to hunker down in the hallway. We accomplished all of this in ten minutes.

It sounded like the world was ending outside. We peeked around the corner of the hallway to see the picture window and you couldn't see for all the rain and hail. When it was over, we found large, quarter-size hail all over the yard, piled up on the windowsills and against the doorways. The outside of the house and my car were plastered with leaves, and our street was completely flooded.

The flooding in the street went down almost right away, and neither the house nor my car appears to be damaged. Paxton slept through the entire thing, and my husband has already gone to bed. Adrenaline and the rumbles of distant thunder are keeping me up tonight. We don't have renter's insurance yet--it's one of those things that fell through the cracks these the past couple months--and I can't help thinking that if the storm had managed to damage our house enough to destroy some of our possessions, we'd be completely out of luck. Not being able to claim a loss on our nursery furniture, my iMac, our TV--any number of things--that's a scary thought, one that struck me as we were doing Paxton's bedtime diaper change. I'll have to pay a visit to the insurance company tomorrow.

Anyway, it appears that the actual tornado happened a few miles away from us. Still too close for my comfort, as it took down a wall at our local mall and uprooted trees at the college across town. I really, really, really hate bad weather. :(