And the winner for most annoying toy ever goes to...

Elmo Tickle Hands



Why, oh why, Dear Gawd, did anyone think this would be a good idea? Nonstop maniacal Elmo laughter or Elmo and Cookie Monster doing gangsta rap. Seriously. I mean, seriously?

Much to my dismay, SchmoopyBaby LOVES this toy. It is his favorite Christmas present. One thing I'll say for my sister-in-law - she knows what toys little boys like. The wooden blocks I bought for him and the Lego Duplo set my cousin gave him sit untouched while I am tormented by the sounds of Elmo's diabolical laughter and "Yeaahhh, Boy".

I may have to accidentally "lose" the tickle hands, lest I lose my mind.

Green Books Giveaway!

Check out The Eco-Friendly Family Blog for your chance to win 2 children's books on living green! There will be 10 winners selected, but the giveaway ends December 24 so hurry up and go! Here's the link. Good luck!

RIP Fabulous Boots

I am in mourning. The most fabulous item in my wardrobe is no longer. My boots, my Fabulous Boots, are in taters, thanks to my dog, Mojo. Summer is hard for poor Mojo. He doesn’t like loud booming noises, and summer here in the desert southwest is full of them. If it’s not July 4th fireworks, then it’s summer monsoon thunderstorms. Every summer as soon as the sun starts to go down, Mojo grows distraught. He anticipates the loud thunder booms that herald the end of the world in his mind. So he finds the smallest, darkest corner to spend the evening and night hiding. This year, the chosen corner of safety was in my closet, behind my laundry hamper, on top of the shoes that I seldom wear. I didn’t think much of it, other than, “Gee, that can’t be very comfortable on top of my old shoes, but he seems happier there so ok”.

Recently I went into that corner, looking for some item that I thought had dropped behind my hamper instead of landing inside of it. It was then that I discovered the carnage. I wanted to bang my head against a wall. How many times have I seen and heard this dog walk around in circles, clawing at the ground or his pillowy bed before plopping down!? Why didn’t I think of what he was actually clawing in the corner of my closet!?

So there you have it, my Fabulous Boots, torn to shreds by Mojo’s claws, in the effort to make them into a comfy bed in his den.

“What’s the big deal?” you ask, “It’s only shoes.”

No. These are not just shoes. These are a symbol. A symbol of a former version of myself. A self that went out late looking Fabulous. A self that was infused with sexual power that inspired grown men to get on their hands and knees at my feet to worship and make love to The Boots. (OK, just one man, who admittedly had a major foot fetish to the point that he referred to himself as BootBoy, but still you get my point.)

I remember when I was pregnant and my feet were so swollen I couldn’t fit into any of my shoes. I wondered to myself if I would ever be able to wear The Boots again. I wondered furthermore if I would ever have occasion to wear them again. Would I ever again have the energy to go out somewhere deserving of The Boots? Would I ever again have a desire to go anywhere deserving of The Boots? How would being a mother change that part of me that was so significant in my 20s and to a slightly lesser extant in my early 30s?

Teresa Strasser wrote on her blog about remaining badass after motherhood:

When I think “mom,” I don’t want to think haggard, beleaguered “mom bloggers” telling Oprah about their crappy, sit-com sex lives and zany diaper mishaps, I want to think of women being exactly who they were before kids, only better…I know I would trade the frightful notion of Ann Taylor knits covered in crumbs for even the illusion of ass-kicking motherhood in the form of skin and ink.

I have not gotten rid of any of my badass, skin showing ensembles. All my leather and lace, velvet and vinyl remains intact if not covered in dust in the corners of my closet - except for The Boots, of course. They are reminders of the fabulous, sexy, powerful woman that I once was. The passing of The Fabulous Boots feels like a passing of an era. Now I know I will never wear them again and I mourn. I mourn for The Boots and I mourn a little bit for the badass woman that may still be lurking under this always-tired skin, still covered in jeans that have dried baby pee from this morning’s leaky diaper, because I lacked the time or energy to change into clean pants.

Sometimes I wonder if I should get rid of my stash. In 10 years, what will I tell SchmoopyBaby if he should stumble across a leather mini corset dress? How much of my mildly sordid past will I share with him? Should a boy know that his mother was ever anything other than the vanilla, stuck-in-the 80s, slightly embarrassing old lady that he thinks of her as? I haven’t decided yet. I’ll admit to being in procrastination mode as far as that is concerned. I have no desire to lie about anything in my past to him. If he ever asks, “Mom, did you ever (fill in blank) when you were young?” I will answer him honestly. A direct question deserves a direct answer, and he deserves to know about my experiences and what I learned about myself and the world through those experiences. And if my experiences can help him avoid any pitfalls and help him make good decisions based on sound judgment all the better.

RIP Fabulous Boots. We had a hell of a ride.

Home for the holidays

Last Wednesday I was starting to compose some comments on my last post when all of the sudden John comes limping into the room hyperventilating. It turns out he went outside to get the mail at 9pm and noticed that our neighbor had his sprinklers running. This might be a "yeah, so?" moment, but considering (1) it was 9pm at night, (2) it was about 30-something degrees outside and dropping, and (3) it was Wednesday and with the current water restrictions our neighborhood can only water lawns on Mondays, John was looking at the neighbor's yard all like "WTF?!" instead of looking where he was going and he stepped off the sidewalk in just the right position to feel a loud SNAP in his foot and end up on his hands and knees in the street.

So once we got him warmed up, and got his foot wrapped in ice and elevated, we agreed that I would take the morning off work to help get him crutches and whatever else he was going to need in the morning. Come Thursday morning, with John unable to bear any weight on his foot, it became apparent that he was not going to be able to take care of SchmoopyBaby unassisted, so I took the rest of the day off.

Now, we had been planning for a few weeks to visit my family in California for the holidays this weekend, and I had already arranged to take Friday and Monday off already. So, given that I was taking Thursday off as well, and as much as I hate to "waste" a vacation day, we decided to leave a day early.

It was kind of a stressful morning running around. I had to go to 4 places before I could find a set of crutches the right size, SchmoopyBaby was cranky about having his morning routine thrown for a loop and being forced in and out of the carseat a bunch of times, and John wasn't much help (understandably so) with packing for our trip.

We finally got to my parent's house on Thursday evening, later than we would have liked, but not too bad considering we weren't even planning on leaving for another day. Between the stress of taking care of 2 "babies" and the dog as well as the whole "home for the holidays" business with a family of average dysfunction, I was a little on edge the first couple of days and couldn't help but fall back into my old pattern of snippiness. John and I had a conference the second night and that seemed to help.

In all it was a decent trip. SchmoopyBaby had an absolute BLAST playing with his Grandma and riding on his Auntie's shoulders and I ate more than my fill of potato latkes. Here are a couple of pics of the merriment.


Don't look now, there's a monkey on your back, Auntie! (Please ignore the diapers drying on the fireplace in the background)

Auntie's head is a drum, hehehe

Not the best pic I've ever taken, but sadly it's the only one I got of SchmoopyBaby playing with Grandma and Grandpa. Watch out for your glasses, Grandma!

My new favorite parenting blog

I just discovered the PhD in Parenting blog and I LOVE IT! I love the way she writes, so articulate. Here are a couple of posts that really resonated with me. Check out her post on why there's no such thing as the perfect parent and her discussion on whether or not opinion = judgement for a small sampling of great stuff. I don't have time to write a coherent commentary on those posts right now, although there are tons of ideas jumbling around in my head that will probably keep me awake tonight, so if a have a chance to put any of them on paper I will get back to you on this.

It's so good, and her points are so important, it deserves to be revisited and discussed.

Cookbook Givaway!

The fine folks at One Frugal Foodie are giving away a cookbook, The 30 Minute Vegan! To enter, just click here and enter a comment.

"But wait," you say, "I'm not vegan, I'm not even vegetarian, what am I going to do with a vegan cookbook?"

Well, given that I am vegetarian and John is vegan, and well, if it takes more than 30 minutes to cook it probably isn't going to get cooked around here anytime soon, I guess I would be willing to take it off your hands. I know how annoying extra clutter around the house is, and I certainly wouldn't want to burden my family or friends with the burden of a useless book laying around your home. ;)

House of Sickos

I think all three of us are pretty much better now. Fortunately nothing serious, just the first cold of the season. Copious amounts of snot making it impossible for SchmoopyBaby to sleep horizontally. So guess who spent a night sitting in the rocking chair cradling a sick toddler so he could sleep? Hint - the same person who had to go to work the next morning on maybe 3 hours of sleep total, and who got sick herself 2 days later. sigh.

Hey wait a minute, did I just refer to myself in the 3rd person? whatev. I've been really tired lately so forgive me if I have the grammar, punctuation, and general writing style of a seventh grader. I'm having a hard time mustering up the energy to care.

Thanksgiving was fairly uneventful. I made a super yummy apple crumble from The Joy of Vegan Baking and a sweet potato and pumpkin side dish. John made my quinoa stuffed acorn squash recipe that I came up with a couple of years ago. It is turning into a Thanksgiving tradition now, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy because in general I don't think I am a particularly good or creative cook, so whenever I come up with an original recipe that's a keeper I get excited.

I really got the shopping bug this year, but I had no time to do anything about it. Probably better for my pocketbook, but I can't help but cringe at all the good deals I missed out on. Oh well, there's always the after xmas sales if I still have the bug by then. :)

OMG! I have them too!

My house looks like a volcano of toys and books erupted in the middle of my living room. I should be clearing out the mess, but instead I am on the internet letting the world know that my one year old son discovered his baby boy boobs yesterday. He cannot get enough of them now!

This morning, after I got up with Schmoopy at 4:30 and again at 5:30, John got up with him for the day at 6:30 so I could catch up on a little sleep. When I got up and fed him breakfast, John told me a little about their morning together.

John: This morning when I took Schmoopy's jammies off he didn't want me to put his shirt on right away. He wanted to go topless for a while.

Me: Oh?

John: Yes. He wanted to play with his boobies for a while.

Me: (long pause) Dude. That's seriously wrong. I feel dirty now. I want to go take a shower now.

John: OK, maybe played with isn't quite right. But he was pointing at them and wanted to look at them for a while.

Me: I see.

5 Things I love about you

Dear Schmoopy,

Today I felt like telling you 5 things I love about you. Not because it's your birthday or any special kind of day, just because I felt like it.

1. I love it when you take my hand, pull it to your face, and rest your face in my hand; and I love the “Mmmm” sound you make when you do it.

2. I love the thick purple smoothie mustache you get when you drink a breakfast smoothie; and I love that you like my breakfast smoothies.

3. I love the way you bounce and jiggle when you run; and I love the "wabba wabba wabba" sound you make while running.

4. I love your intensity of feeling – when you get upset, boy do you get upset, but when something pleases you, everything is amazing and wonderful and fantastic and the whole world lights up with your happiness.

5. I love that some of the most simple things please you – that the dog walking into the room or spotting a favorite toy on the floor induces a torrent of smiles, squeals, and giggles.

And one bonus because I just can’t limit all the things I love about you to 5…

6. I love your excitement for belly buttons. I smile every time you stand in front of the mirror, pull your shirt up, and point out your own belly button. I laugh out loud every time you pull my shirt up, stick your finger in my belly button, and then blow raspberries on it.

I'm sure by next week I'll discover at least 10 new things I love about you. I'll try not to embarrass you too much by posting all the things I love about you too often.

Love,
Mom

Uh oh, new trick

I am so in for it. Guess who figured out how to turn the round bathtub water faucets on? Hint, the same little person who was up for the day at 5:15 this morning. Let the games begin.

Daylight Savings Dilemna

You may have noticed the circles under SchmoopyBaby’s eyes in the picture in my last post. There is a very good reason for this – the end of daylight savings time. This event has been the cause of much unhappiness and lack of sleep here at chez-Schmoopy. We even started the transition a week early. The idea was to move bedtime 15 minutes later every 3-4 days until November 1, and hopefully he would start to sleep in later in the morning.

That idea was a big fail.

Here’s the problem - SchmoopyBaby is very sensitive to being over-tired. Pretty much every sleep expert, from Weissbluth who advocates a fairly hardcore version of cry-it-out sleep training, to Pantley of no-cry sleep fame, all agree on one thing – if your baby or toddler is having a hard time sleeping through the night, try putting him/her to bed earlier. They aren’t kidding. You might think it is totally counter-intuitive that a baby or toddler that goes to sleep earlier will sleep longer, but it’s totally true, at least it is for SchmoopyBaby. Moving his bedtime ½ hour earlier got him sleeping 10-10½ hours every night for months! And here we are putting him to sleep later and later each day. Ugh. The night wakings started back up on the first night. Combine that with the fact that he was waking up for the day earlier rather than later and we were starting to make plans to move to Arizona or Hawaii, where there is no time change.

Bedtime is 8:00pm. For most of this week he’s been waking up around 4:30am. I can usually get him back to sleep within about 15 minutes, which is good, only to have him wake up again between 5:00 and 5:30 (the old 6:00-6:30, his usual wake up time) which is not so good. A lot of parents I know are big supporters of cry-it-out, and from what I understand, for most (but not all) kids it works. Kiddo may wake up at 6, but Mom and Dad don’t get up until 7, so Kiddo stays in the crib until the parents are good and ready to pick Kiddo up. Within a couple of days, Kiddo is also back to sleeping until 7.

I have not been, and will not be, following this method for transitioning to standard time. I have a couple of reasons for this.

1. Not my style. There are many forms of sleep training that involve some amount of crying, from the very mild to the hardcore, and I don’t have much problem with the mild forms if it means a child learns to sleep better and the whole family is happier and healthier as a result of being more well-rested. But turning off the baby monitor and ignoring my child’s cries for an hour is just not the kind of parent I want to be. For starters, I don’t believe an hour of unchecked crying is challenging my kid to rise to the next level of his sleeping skills, I think it’s neglect. Additionally, one of my goals as a parent is to teach SchmoopyBaby empathy. One the ways I try to teach this is through my own actions, because I believe parental modeling is a huge influence on behavior. By ignoring his cries for over an hour, I believe I would be demonstrating that it’s ok to ignore another person’s distress. Now, obviously this is not the defining action that would turn my son into an axe murderer. I know it’s the cumulative impact of everything he sees and experiences - but I’m trying to be consistent in my messages starting from day 1, ya know what I mean?

2. The morning poop. This may be an even bigger influencer on my getting up with Schmoopy in the morning. Apparently SchmoopyBaby’s digestive system didn’t get the memo that the clocks changed and the morning poop ought to wait an extra hour before making its appearance. I cannot allow, let alone force, my child to sit or lay crying in a pile of feces in order to make a point that I’m the parent and I decide when wake-up time is. I’ve changed his diaper and tried getting him back to sleep after the morning poop. Resistance is futile. The biological clock is stronger than the digital.

I do think SchmoopyBaby is finally starting to adjust. Yesterday, even though he woke up twice early in the morning, he didn’t get up for the day until 7:15, over 11 hours after bedtime! Then this morning, although he only slept until about 5:45, he slept completely through the night! It is still very inconsistent obviously, but hopefully within the next few days he’ll transition back to his normal schedule (if the poop could only wait just another 30 minutes!!!) and then he’ll be back to his bright-eyed happy self. If not, we’ll re-evaluate our strategy over the weekend.

Sticker Fun

I found this activity on another blog that I happened to come across. It was a hit! I had a sheet of disney stickers that came in the mail and pulled it out along with a small paper bag. SchmoopyBaby spent 45 minutes putting the stickers on the bag, then in the bag, then on an empty toy bin that was sitting nearby. Then of course he had to climb into the bin and put the stickers on his leg, then on Mommy's leg, etc, etc. He probably would have gone on even longer if Daddy hadn't come home when he did.

Here is the artist at work.

And here is his finished product.

Pumpkin Potato Crockpot Recipe

This didn't turn out exactly the way I had hoped, but it was a reasonably decent experiment so I thought I would share. At the pumpkin patch last week I bought a couple small pumpkins. I had never cooked fresh pumpkin before so I thought I'd give it a shot. I've also been meaning to use my crockpot more often so I went on an online search for the perfect pumpkin crockpot recipe, which I sadly didn't find. So I kind of merged a couple different recipes and added a twist or two. The result was hearty, filling, and very comforting for a cold day. I don't think I got the spice combination quite right, as the flavor was a little boring to me. Then again, I also tend to prefer lots of garlic or curry or other fairly intense spices. Many people I know don't care for that kind of intense flavor so maybe you'll like it as I made it this time.

Ingredients:
1 small pumpkin
1 sweet potato
1 red potato (probably any kind of potato will do, I just happen to have red potatoes at the moment)
1 yellow onion
1 can kidney beans
2 cups water
1 salt-free vegetable bouillon cube + 1/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp brown sugar
2 cloves garlic
1 tbsp mixed italian seasonings (I used basil, oregano, thyme, and marjoram)

Directions:
1. Chop -
Chop the pumpkin and potato into cubes. Peel and chop the sweet potato.
Chop the onion and garlic.
2. Toss -
Put all the ingredients into the crockpot and stir.
3. Cook -
Set the crockpot to cook on low for 8 hours. Stir once more.
4. NOM

I think next time I might try to make it more like a pumpkin chili. I think a little kick would work well with this.

Political Rant of the Week - Hate Crimes

If you are Republican or sincerely religiously Christian you may not want to read this, because I am mad as hell and I’m about to go off. Still here? Well no whining at the end of this post, because I tried to warn you.

There’s been a lot of press regarding the extension of hate crimes by our government to cover gender identity and homosexuality. This is a good thing. It’s about time. I’d now like to talk about another sort of hate crime. A group of crime that is so widespread it isn’t even acknowledged as hate crime most of the time. That would be crimes against women.

You may or may not have heard of Jamie Leigh Jones, the Halliburton/KBR employee that, while in Baghdad by way of government contract, was gang-raped in 2005 by her co-workers. In an attempt to cover up the incident, the company then put her in a shipping container without food or water and threatened to fire her if she reported the incident or attempted to seek medical attention. Jones was unable to sue KBR for sex discrimination in open court because KBR was one of many companies with government contracts that require employees to sign individual contracts barring lawsuits and forcing mandatory binding arbitration, where the company almost always wins.

Fast forward to October 2009. Senator Al Franken (D-Minn) introduces an amendment to the Defense Appropriations bill that would punish contractors if they “restrict their employees from taking workplace sexual assault, battery and discrimination cases to court.”

Now, most people might think this is a no-brainer. In an age where hate crime protection gets extended to include gay and transgender people, one might expect that an amendment that says raped women can seek justice through open court would pass unanimously and be embraced by all normal functioning human beings. But we aren’t dealing with normal functioning human beings. We’re dealing with the Senate. We’re dealing with politicians.

Thirty, that’s right 30, white male Republicans voted against this amendment. Included in this most classy of crowds is almost-president John McCain. Also included in the mix is my own Senator (not that I ever voted for him) John Ensign.

The question is this: WTF!?!?! What are they thinking?!

Republicans point out that the amendment is opposed by a range of business interests, including the U.S. Chamber of Congress. Oh. I see. So what you’re telling me is civil and criminal rights to women only count as long as it doesn’t impact some corporation’s bottom line. We need to protect the right of businesses to cover up rape and other violence against women in order to protect capitalism. It’s the American way, donchaknow?

Is there anything else that might be going on here? Take Ensign, for instance, since he is so near and dear to my heart. Ensign is an uber-conservative born-again Christian with a 100% approval rating by the Christian Coalition. He has participated in rallies by the Promise Keepers, a male evangelical group that promotes marital fidelity. It also happens that he is an adulterer. And not just any old commonplace adulterer, mind you - the kind of adulterer that fucks his own friend’s wife. But I digress. My point is that he is THE quintessential conservative Christian Republican. And by and large, what do most conservative evangelical Christians believe about the role of women in society? Stay at home, bear as many children as the Lord blesses you with, and remain subservient to and dependent on your husband. This, they profess, is God’s design.

So let’s go back to Jones and the issue at hand. If a woman is employed by a government contractor, clearly she is not at home popping out babies and serving her man. She is, essentially, going against God’s design by working outside the home and therefore deserves all the heinous punishments that are the natural consequence of disobeying The Law. If you take this argument to its logical conclusion, then clearly Jones, as well as any woman audacious enough to try to have a life other than popping out babies starting at the legal age of marriage, deserves to get raped and denied any hope of legal justice. This is God’s justice.

If this isn’t hate speech and hate crime, I don’t know what is. You can dress it up and say it’s a legitimate religious philosophy if you want. You can also put lipstick on a pig, so I’m told. At the end of the day a pig is a pig, and a violent crime committed against a woman for no other reason than the fact that she is a woman is a hate crime and deserves to be treated and prosecuted as such.

Is it too much to want protection under the law for all women, not only women who were once men? I don’t believe I’ll see the end of hate crimes against women in my lifetime. After all, hate crimes against women are probably the oldest form of hate crime in existence. I would like to think that the legal definition of hate crime may one day include the group known as women. But as long as this country is run by corporations and religious fundamentalist nutjobs, I won’t be holding my breath.

Rant over.

Pumpkins!

What a difference a year makes! Here is my little pumpkin a year ago. He couldn't even sit up by himself yet!




And here he is below at the pumpkin patch this last Sunday. He got to play with hay and look at chickens and ducks and horses. He dumped a handful of dirt on a poor unsuspecting chicken that was trying to nap in the sun. The chicken immediately stood up and clucked indignantly as it tottled away. I had to remove SchmoopyBoy from the scene when he scooped up another handful of dirt and started in the direction of the disgruntled chicken. There was a brief episode of loud objection, but then a sippy of milk was pulled out of my cooler and all was well again. All in all, a fun time.

Veggie Pirate Booty!

This is my new favorite snack item. Light, yummy, and all kinds of veggies! The ingredients are like, nothing but puffed rice and corn, and a blend of broccoli, kale, spinach, cabbage, carrots, and parsley powder. Nothing that you need a degree in chemistry to understand. The perfect guilt-free snack for days when your toddler goes on a vegetable strike. I'm glad I discovered this. If you have any other toddler-friendly snack ideas, let me know!

blah

I'm in a bit of a funk this week. I think it's just because I'm tired. I haven't been sleeping well. Going to bed too late and waking up too early, haven't gotten a nap in a couple weeks, blah blah blah. It will pass.

On the up side I took a bunch of pictures today. Hopefully I can get them loaded soon so I can post a few. I took SchmoopyBaby to get his first professional haircut today. No more bowl cut! Yay!

I also took a picture of a chili recipe I made this evening for dinner. Super quick and easy. The recipe and picture will appear in a post sometime soon.

Tomorrow the plan is to take SchmoopyBaby to a pumpkin patch. I've never been to a pumpkin patch before so I'm kind of excited. More pics will be taken, I'm sure. ;)

Hope you are all having a good weekend!

Pictures!

Halloween is such a fun time of year! Dressing up in costumes, fall activities, and of course, Halloween jammies!!


Beware of the Dread Pirate Schmoopy. Ferocious, isn't he?


Looks like the Dread Pirate Schmoopy and his trusty mate Doggie had a little too much yo-ho-ing. hehehe

What's with SchmoopyBaby?

I know what you're probably thinking. What's up with this "schmoopybaby" thing? On this blog, I will likely refer to my son as Schmoopy, SchmoopyBaby, SchmoopyBoy, or something like that. Why, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. It is my intention to keep this blog public. The great but also scary thing about the web is that you just never know who is lurking where. If you know me then you already know my kid's name and where we live. If you don't know me but think my blatherings are entertaining and want to return again, cool. But that doesn't mean I want the whole world to know what my kid looks like and his name and where he lives. It's about safety and privacy, yo!

By the way, yes I do call him SchmoopyBaby in real life. I'm goofy like that. But you probably already knew that. Besides, sometimes he makes himself SO DARN CUTE I just can't help myself. Yeah, I admit it, I'm one of those moms. You may hurl if if you must. I won't be offended.

I'm back on the interwebz!

So I was invited to view a buddy's private blog, which required me to create a Google account, which is basically the same as a blogger account, and I thought to myself what a perfect opportunity this is to start blogging again! There have been SOOO many times that something happened and I thought to myself, "Gee if I still blogged I would totally write about this". I'm excited about this account because this way I can post from anywhere, anytime - I'm not stuck to only posting at home on John's computer when he's not on it the way I was with the pregnancy blog. Way more convenient. Just please don't expect me to write every day, and don't expect more than a few rambling sentences when I do write - I still don't have much time for indulgences like blathering to the world about my insanity. Although I promise this blog won't be nearly as whiny as the pregnancy blog. Seriously, I was reading through that blog not too long ago and I was like OMG could I be any more whiny and complainy and annoying?! Bleh. (Not that being pregnant didn't suck @$$, cuz' it totally did, but my incessant complaining makes me want to roll my eyes and hurl)

I still have to figure out how everything works here - things like posting pictures, making the blog pretty, yada yada, so thank you for putting up with my totally low-tech look and feel for a while (or forever ;)