You'd think I'd learn

Yes, I know. She's not two yet. Oh, sweet precious baby and all that. But you and I both know that she's been two since the day she was born. I forget certain things about Syd, and about two year olds in general, and so I find myself getting completely flustered, agitated, and angry over things that are 100% predictable. So in the case that I ever have another two year old, I'm writing this handy-dandy list for myself.
1) Don't leave markers lying around. Don't leave pens lying around. Don't leave crayons unattended. For the love of God, drill into C's head that he will never, in no uncertain terms, leave any of his millions of sharpies lying around. Because you or someone like you will fail at this, try baby wipes, then toothpaste, then nail polish remover. Then cry, then touch up the paint/shampoo the chair/give up. It's not like this is the first time.
2) Don't suggest that anything's a choice if really it's not. "Do you want to change your diaper?" rarely is answered in the affirmative. Neither is "Do you want to take a bath?," "Do you want to sit on your bottom?," "Do you want to put on your pants?," or "Do you want to stop coloring on the walls?"
3) Walk away. There is no reasoning with crazy people, and two year olds are crazy. You know better. When you do this in public, other people judge you and you look like an idiot. An idiot trying to reason with a tiny human who is currently screaming and pounding the floor. Just grab her and walk away. Oh, and hold on tight. Because she IS going to either go completely rigid or completely dead weight, and then you'll be the asshole mom who nearly drops her screaming toddler as she's speedwalking out of Target.
4) Order in. Do not, repeat, do not try to go to a restaurant unless it specifically caters to parents of toddlers. A two year old has no interest in sitting for the duration of a meal at home. In public? You're lucky to get ten minutes. Then see #3. Really, it's just so much easier to order in. You'll all be happier for it, and no one has to wear pants.
5) Cherish the kisses, hugs, sleepy bedhead, " 'Ank You Mama"s, crazy laughs, break your heart adorable-ness. It's God's way of making sure you don't sell her.

The salad that defied logic

I refuse to allow picky eaters in my kitchen. That doesn't mean that there aren't any in my house, just that we don't talk about it. And our kitchen rotation is pretty predictable. Tacos, spaghetti, chili, meatloaf, and all the baked meats (pork chops, chicken, etc.). Every once in a while I'll throw something new in there, but rarely does it go over well. BUT...

One of my attempts to broaden my family's horizons was to add couscous to our pork chops, in place of the usual rice or potatoes. But I made way too much and ended up with not one but two big pyrexes-full of cooked couscous. I didn't want to toss it, so I checked allrecipes and found an awesome looking couscous and black bean salad. I knew my family would probably tolerate it, and I figured the leftovers would make good lunches.

I made a couple of changes, subbed green pepper for green onion because I misread the recipe, left out the corn because I forgot to buy it, and added chicken, garlic powder, and avocado. (I also doubled the dressing on advice of about a million reviewers).

Y'all? They LOVED it. Every single one of them. Eli scarfed a bowl and a half before I even sat down and kept going on and on about how we could make it again, add the corn, have this again, this is so good, Mama! It's like a culinary miracle.

Big ass TV

For ten years, C and I have had the same argument about TVs. He always thinks we need a bigger one and another in the bedroom. I've always said that if we wanted to live in a movie theatre, we would probably pay less rent. He's slowly upgraded our one, in the living room TV from my tiny TV/VCR combo, to a hand-me-down 20-something inch, to the "BIG" purchase of a flat screen when Eli was born (aka our first child tax credit). But I've managed so far to keep it from a) being ridiculous and b) moving a television into the bedroom.

Fast forward to our most recent adventure. Driving back from Prison City, again, and C is going on and on about how he wants the new house set up, how the kids' toys will finally be kept in place since he'll be home (oh, the underlying message there just kills me, but choose your battles and so on), and how we're going to "need a better TV." I couldn't handle it, too much talking and arguing and debating and on and on and on, so like any stressed out woman I passive-aggressively said, "You know what? I don't care. Do whatever you want. I'm just tired of talking about it." Yep, this'll teach me. Behold.

That's a tv in the bedroom

And that's a big-ass wall mounted TV. With surround sound. Hooked up to several game systems.

And this is a very happy (and fuzzy) C. So there's a little benefit.

Thoughts on the new job

My new unit was described to me using the words "unique" and "urban." Read into that what you will, but we are essentially housed in a repurposed unit and do a lot of making-do. Our office is in the dining hall. Our nurses sit at card tables. It's awesome and totally ridiculous. I think I'm going to love it.

The staff at this prison is much older than the staff at my old prison. On one hand, it's very weird to be the youngest, and obviously so. I went to the tech department Wednesday to figure out a computer issue and the guy was scrolling through looking for my name. He landed on it, but then said, "Wait. You're not a psychologist. What did you say your name was?" When I assured him that I was a psychologist, he asked if I was sure. Seriously. So the other staff have a lot more experience under their belts. I spend a lot of time pretending to know what they're talking about.

This job is hitting some of my insecurity buttons, but I'm also really excited about the potential. At old prison, I knew what I was doing and I was good at it. I was fast and efficient and could bluff my way through most things. There was little oversight of my work and because we were all at the same stage, career-wise, we didn't challenge each other much. My new supervisor asked me to send her all my notes at the end of the day (maybe indefinitely?). At first I was a little offended. I've done all my "supervised work" and the state of California says that I'm competent enough now to work alone. But then I got feedback today on my notes, and it is good. She called me out on parts I pencil-whipped. She respectfully commented on my clinical assertions. She pointed out things I flat out forgot. And she did it all in a way that didn't feel like she was belittling me or attacking my abilities.

I applied for this job months ago, when the layoffs first were announced. One of the things I outlined for my job search was that I wanted a job that would allow me to thrive and excel, that would challenge me to be better. I was good at my old prison, but I think that this new experience is going to make me so much more. I needed a good kick in the butt, and I think I've found it. I am so, so glad it doesn't suck.

Syd's new trick

OMG. Y'all, this one's going to give me palpitations. Her new trick is to climb up on the coffee table or one of the footstools and DIVE onto a chair. She has absolutely no fear of heights or falling or blood or cracking her skull.

And she looks adorable doing it, which doesn't help.

On the topic of unhelpful but adorable things this one comes up with, she walked into the living room last night and said, with a huge smile, "Hello Boys!" I think C just about choked.

Out of the closet

What's one person's guest room closet, I see as a perfect sewing "nook." It's deep enough that I can put my chair in there and close the door when we have company. On the other side is my craft boxes and fabric stash. I'm on the lookout for a cool inspiration board and lamp to put in there. This makes me so super happy, in a secret garden sort of way :)

Moving update

Thank you guys for your sweet words/calls/posts and for tolerating my super-whiny post. The move is going much, MUCH better now. We've got heat and hot water, internet, and I've located some of our essentials. We all have toothbrushes and toilet paper now. C and my dad arranged the furniture while I was at work today so coming home it was like a real house and not a storage unit. The kids' bunkbeds are up and totally adorable.

Eli is kicking butt at his new school. I can't tell you how happy it made me to have him run into a hug today and then yell, "Mama! I had an AWESOME day at school!" I was so worried about this whole traditional classroom thing, but this kid has rocked it. Seriously, now the biggest thing I'm worried about is what to send for snack.

I had my first day of work today. As usual, the jury's still out on what I think. I'm working in a "temporary" unit (though it's been operating for years) and the office space is less than steller. As in, "If you get here early you can get a computer, we all sit in the dining room" less than steller. But the job itself seems awesome, and I'm looking forward to meeting the inmates.

I have a ton of pictures to upload so expect and photographic journal of our move. It's pretty adorable stuff.