Friday Lily had to go in for her first batch of inoculation shots, four in all. I don’t like needles when they’re sticking me, and now I really don’t like them when they’re sticking my poor little baby girl. It was actually less excruciating to watch than I thought it would be. I had these visions of the doctor plunging a huge needle into my little girl’s arm, and then slowly pushing the plunger down while Lily screamed and wailed. She did scream and wail, but the nurse was so quick with the four shots. She had them all done and the punctures bandaged up in under a minute. Jen had the displeasure of holding Lily’s arms and shed a few tears. Oddly enough, I kind of laughed through the whole thing. It wasn’t a this-is-so-hilarious laugh, more like one of those I’m-nervous-and-if-I don’t-laugh-I-may-cry laughs. Lily came through it just fine and pretty much slept for the rest of the day.
She’s really starting to get fun. She can interact a little bit now and is able to lift her head up on her own for more than half a second, though she still does a pretty good bobblehead impersonation. She smiles a lot and her incessant grunting is starting to soften into something approximating cooing. She is sleeping longer at night, occasionally going for seven hours! Its hard to imagine how we lived so long without her.
As I’ve mentioned many times before, we live on a very busy street. A highway, really. Sometimes, on a nice night I like to go out on our front porch, which is on the second story and more like a balcony, and just kind of zone out and watch the traffic, so long as its not careening off the road into trees or the creek. If I really use my imagination, I can almost believe that its actually the sound of the ocean I’m hearing. It can be strangely soothing. That is until one of those monster Harley’s comes up the road with its amplified mufflers. Last night after I got home from playing basketball I took my dinner out there, sat in the faux wicker chair we have next to the potted Japanese maple tree (its very feng sui) and just relaxed for a couple minutes. There’s been a lot going on and a lot on my mind, so it was nice just to be still, even for five minutes. Try it sometime. Its surprising how even that short amount of relaxing can help.
I had my fantasy baseball draft this past Saturday night. Probably one of my favorite things to do all year. Because I’m a huge dork and somehow make the time, the last couple years I’ve scripted out the first several rounds of the draft, trying to predict who everyone is going to take and who I want. I never end up being close to accurate, though last season I did actually get the first ten players I wanted…and finished dead last. So what does that tell me?
I’ve recently begun a program that I’m calling Sustenance Intake Reduction. A diet, to the lay person. I don’t feel like I’m really overweight, but it is getting to the point where I’m a little self conscious. Plus, I am 30 now and rumor has it things start to slow down around this point in life. So rather than wait until things reach a critical mass–emphasis on mass–I figured I’d try to nip this is in the bud. That and since my 30th birthday in November I pretty much ate anything and everything I saw with little regard for the consequences and drank copious amounts of soda, which resulted in probably 10 to 15 extra pounds. I’m not limiting myself to celery stalks and bran muffins, I’m just trying to eat less of the stuff I’d eat anyway. Here are a few other ground rules I’ve laid down for myself:
–One soda per week.
–No bringing candy or cookies to work. There’s enough around the office as it is, don’t need to have it right on my desk.
–When eating cereal, a major staple in the life of Ando, DO NOT fill the bowl so full that when I pour in the milk a bunch of cereal falls out. Also, steer clear of sugar cereals.
–No more pop-tarts from the office vending machine for breakfast.
Other than that, I’m just trying not to eat like a hog at the slop trough. I’ve also started playing basketball again, after about a three month hiatus, and working in the yard, which may not sound like much by way of exercise, but hauling five gallon buckets of gravel up stairs two at a time is a workout, trust me. Just ask the Kludge. I haven’t stepped on a scale in months, so I don’t know what I weighed when I started, or if I’ve lost anything. I go by the looseness of my pants.
So there you go. I guess you could call this my State of the Ando address. Hope I haven’t bored you to tears. And if I have, well, you could’ve stopped reading a long time ago. You clearly have nothing better to do with your time.