I just shit myself.


Well, not shit myself per se. But, well…

There I was, just a little while ago, recently home from a trip to Ikea with Charlotte’s grandparents. I was on the prowl for some caffeine. Remembered the Pepsi I didn’t finish in the diaper bag. I thought I heard kids running around in the empty apartment upstairs. Then I heard the little Chinese coin windchime we have, and I didn’t remember where it was hung (two months here, and there are still boxes and unhung curtains). Then I heard windows rattle. Then the whole building shook.

In the fraction of a second wherein my brain realized that everything at The Upland was shaking in its 100-year-old bricks and that I was standing in the living room feeling very out-of-control of the situation, I screamed, “Charlotte!” and ran to Charlotte’s room. She, of course, was tuckered out from Ikea (when she got a little boy to push her around in a little baby cart — seriously) and sound asleep — with her little but in the air. There was nothing around her crib that could fall on her.  And that was that.

I was left shaken up and shaking and very very glad that the massively over-loaded bookshelves were not towering over Charlotte at the time.

I looked for cracked walls and ceilings, but, well, this building has survived worse. I’m sure. Besides, not being a home owner means that cracked foundations (etc.) are not really my problem. We could just move (and we tend to do that a lot anyway).

The feeling that the earth is shaking and you can’t control which way this big old building might lurch was enough to make me shit myself, for sure. Luckly, 12 years of Catholic school (not counting two for grad school) teach you very excellent* bowel control.

*(How can something be very excellent?)

Measurements and shopping lists.

We went to our new place yesterday, to take/make measurements. Charlotte blessed the new pad by stomping all over (literally, stomping) and taking a nice big poop in the new living room. It’s considerably larger than our current place, with a sunroom and a fireplace to boot. After the last two weeks, that central air is going to be nice.

We’re off to Ikea today. Charlotte always seems to enjoy herself there. Last time we took her, in December, she was still really into formula and barely touched the baby food we bought her. This time, she’ll probably eat some fries, veggies and maybe some mac-and-cheese. She’s into water and food these days. It’s getting increasingly difficult to get her to take her milk. Luckily, she loves cheese and yogurt. Boy howdy.

I think we’re moving next week?

It’s hot in Baltimore right now. If you’re on the East Coast at all, I don’t have to tell you. It’s miserable. Our new apartment has central air. The new apartment we’re supposed to be moving into next week. Here? Well, sheeeet. I can’t hear anything but fans!

And thank God/Jesus/Allah/The Donale for peppermint soap. Oh, peppermint soap. Dude, get some. Get some, and tell them I sent you. Tell them I said HI.

But we haven’t packed a thing. Boxes are on their way. I’m a pretty stellar packer, though. Maybe I’m wired to be nomadic? I have a feeling our distaste for home ownership might be masking a growing desire to move around some more, maybe just travel a bit. Maybe just, I don’t know, change things up?

And we need to measure rooms and furniture and the massive volume of books that we own, go to Ikea (though that part’s fun, and Charlotte likes the colors and the toys she gets when we go there), actually think about what’s going where.

And we need to not melt before then.

This is all cause for stress, but I don’t feel particularly stressed about it. Rather, I’m looking forward to receiving the wood-handled umbrellas we ordered yesterday, in time for a rainy weekend. I spent like two hours researching umbrellas. (I shit you not.) I couldn’t get the color I wanted, and I’m hoping that “khaki” is not code for “off-white.”

Also, all this sitting around sans shirt has me wishing I could lose weight. That I would, rather. That I would.

Would if I could, and all that.

Big face and a fun new playgym.


Charlotte has two playgyms, both from Ikea, and she loves both. Both bear being written about so that you can enjoy them, too, if you’re in the market for one (or two).

Without raving about either, she’d like to wish everyone a Happy Memorial Day weekend. Today, we’re going to see Grandpa off for his camping trip (on which Daddy has to sit out this year); going to her first campfire Saturday; and celebrating Uncle Joey’s birthday Sunday with a small family cook-out.

Mommy and Daddy both go back to work next week, and we’re not happy about it.

Baby’s room.


It’s officially the coolest room in our apartment.  I’m jealous!  I was joking last night that I wanted to sleep on the floor in there read all night.

We never bother to paint because we move a lot; so our walls are all off-white.  For Baby’s room, I used non-VOC paint to get the space a glossy shade of blue.  There is wonderful light (from soft flower and bug wall lamps, to a medium lamp to a big floor to the nuclear dawn of the ceiling light), a soft rug, cute curtains, soft, wooden furniture (including some that we intend to grow with her), a rocking chair, TOYS and — for now — two bikes!Also , to keep the dragon plant company, a money tree!

It was a task. It felt like my Augean stables, as I cleaned off a storage shelf, the huge closet, computer desk, two full bookshelves, bike parts and tools, pens (PENS!). This took me several weekends.

Then I painted with a brush, so that I wouldn’t have to make a mess. Before and after painting, I had fun with sandpaper, putty and DUST (which had to be vacuumed from everything, mopped up, etc., in case of lead paint, etc.).  This took a week of evenings, with a few mornings and one afternoon.

Then there was a big trip to Ikea, after some careful planning and measuring.  And, you know, putting everything together (which I really enjoy).

And, finally, decorating!  This was the fun part.  I had a nice beer, my headphones and went to town last night.  I think that was the last beer I’ll ever drink in there.

The crib is in our room, closer to me, since I’m a light sleeper.  After that, it will replace the bikes in Baby’s room.  Her window looks out onto trees and, when they don’t have their leaves, North Baltimore.  There are three doors: one to the hallway, one to the closet, one to the bathroom (both bedrooms have doors into the bathroom, which is pretty cool and part of the “charm” of this old place).  The floors are the original (creaky and scarred) hardwood floors.

It’s weird to think that, in a matter of weeks or even days, there will be a tiny baby there.

Also, in the mail today: my new camera and the Baby Bjorn!

More photos here on Flickr!

So much shopping.


When people comment that tiny children require mounds of stuff, they’re not fooling you. Grandma and Grandpa insisted on buying the crib and got them into the Escape before we could finish checking out with other stuff at Ikea. This is matched by the car-load of stuff we got for the shower, the car load on its way via online shopping and the car load from Target and Babies “R” Us. Wow.

January, like a lion.


What a strange month, and it’s only half over! The Ravens were doing well, and now they are finished until next year. I walked home from watching the game last night, without a fear in the world. I don’t think anyone in town was in the mood to mug or “bankkk” anyone, not last night. I did almost get run over by a stampede of drunk girls, seriously. I thought I was getting a group hug there for a minute.

My dissertation defense was uncertain, and now it’s scheduled. February 16, 3:30 pm. Carbondale.

The weather hasn’t been helping feel steady. It’s been strangely cold for Maryland. It warmed up a little lately, but today it’s cold and raining. Yesterday, I wore sandals sans socks and two short-sleeved Ravens shirts under my puffy vest. Today, I’m in flannel and PJs and looking forward to watching movies with Mama (which Mama picked) and having a quiet pasta dinner. I’m not leaving the building today.

A busy work week ahead, with a stressful OB visit on Wednesday and a work event Saturday to boot. I better make sure I have a good supply of coffee beans and that my Thermos is clean.

Thursday is Mama’s birthday, though, and that’s fun. I like to spoil Mama, especially with Baby being so big that she has trouble moving around and has, in fact, started to wobble a bit.

Tomorrow, Baby shopping, with Grandma.

Ikea bikes, etc.


Geez, with the bike blog and with my free time being tied up in bikes right now, I’ve been neglecting this blog. Sorry. Go on over to NBBB for more on Ikea bikes.

But I won’t do something jerky like make that my “this weekend I spent hours fixing bikes” blog.  That’s this one!  My pal needed work done on his front derailer (Sheldon’s spelling), and Mrs. P. needed both of hers attended to.  Thing is, I forgot about the moving sun where I was working, and I got a bit of a sunburn.  I’ve gotten a few of those this year.  That’s not going to help the fact that I already look older than I am and have reached the age where that’s not good news anymore, just news.

But fixing things is always fun, and when you’re helping people to keep biking, that’s awesome, too.  Sunburn be damned.  A liter of water, an energy coffee drink dealy and Chinese food, and I was ready to face the world.

Which I did that evening, and Mr. Dan and I blasted all over North Baltimore, in search of a milestone on his new cyclometer.  We celebrated with cold drinks and chocolate, Mr. Dan’s treat.

I recently watched all six Star Wars films, too, in chronological order.  That is, in the order of The Force, not The Box Office.  Mrs. P. had never seen them, and I tried to keep my mouth shut.  I really did.  I hate how they changed the song at the end of Return of the Jedi, one of the most [musically] triumphant movie endings ever.  The other CGI stuff, I don’t know.  Whatever.  I’m pissed about that song!

Where are all these frikkin storms?

Damn.