We got a public service announcement last night telling us that our power would go out after the Super Bowl. Our electric company was trying to get the town north of us back up and working and had to shut off ALL of the power to make that happen. I thought it was funny that they were waiting until the game was over to attempt to do this, but the more I thought about it, the worse I felt about the poor people in Marlow, shivering through more freezing sleet for a few more hours so that our television viewing would go uninterrupted. Enjoy the snow, Marlow — we’re watching the Super Bowl!!! Really classy, right?
We spent the last part of the game searching for candles so that we wouldn’t be completely in the dark. The PSA assured us that the outage would be for only an hour at the most, but we knew once the power was gone, it could be gone for longer than expected, so we put extra blankets on the sleeping girls and cranked up the heat. And waited. And waited. The power didn’t go off until some point in the middle of the night when I woke up from a nightmare in which Ana was trying to kill me. I stayed up until the power came back on, honestly fearful that she would wander into our room in the complete dark and totally freak me out.
So, the point of this story is that it was a long night, but we’re hopeful that EVERYONE now has power. Wes has been making breakfast and lunch for the chainsaw crews who are coming through to take care of the damage leftover from the storm, so he was up and gone by 5am again this morning. I’m not sure how much longer the crews are going to be working, but I hope that the power coming back home speeds along the entire area’s recovery, if for no other reason than selfishly wanting Wes to get a little more rest. Ana woke me up this morning with, “Where is my Papi?!” After I confirmed that she had no weapons to use on me (seriously, SCARY dream, y’all), I told her that he would be back… at some point in the day. I hope!
Speaking of my hopes and dreams, those that involved quick potty training for Emma have been flushed down the empty potty. (Pun intended.) She has success, but there’s a marked difference between days where I initiate potty visits and days where I leave it up to her. We could have days with no accidents, but since that would totally be my doing with my constant reminders to her, I don’t consider it any closer to being potty trained than she was when she was wearing diapers and occasionally using the potty. Leaving it up to her involves lots of accidents, but she’s always aware of when it happens and at least attempts to make it to the bathroom in time. It just may be a LONG road from this to completely potty trained. I have her in training pants, which means there’s a lot of laundry. But it’s almost fitting, since I began my diapering days with cloth diapers which work pretty much the same. I began with a lot of laundry, and I shall end with a lot of laundry. Sigh. (Little known fact on the subject — Ana spent her first year of life in FuzziBunz, which are the cutest little cloth diapers. I was going to be a Mother Earth type of mommy with nursing on demand, wearing her constantly in a sling, and putting only cloth on her little tiny tushie. Well, one of out three ended up actually happening — ha! — right up until Emma was born. Then, we switched to disposables because I was, very frankly, tired and was beginning to feel that life was about nothing more than baby poo. The switch to diapers I could throw away instead of swishing around the toilet, pre-washing, washing, drying, re-stuffing, then folding… well, made the volume of poo less overwhelming.)
Anyway, training pants. We skipped this step with Ana, but it looks like we’ll be camped out here for a while with Emma. And that’s okay. I’d rather do this than switch her back to diapers and confuse/discourage her. And she’s making progress this way, even if it’s not as fast as I would like. Which would have been her saying, the first day, “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ve got this totally and completely figured out, and not ONLY have I potty trained myself in one day, but I’ve also learned to read, write, and do calculus.” Oh, well. This way will work, too. Eventually.
It’s a regular Monday around here. Laundry, laundry, and more laundry. Exciting stuff! The girls worked on a very special Valentine this morning, and ever since, Ana has been asking, “Is today Balentine’s Day? Where’s my chocolate?” Hear that, Papi? The girl expects her chocolate on Sunday!
I’ve been considering something and would like some input on it. I have all of my journals and emails from my two years in Namibia and would LOVE to put it all into a book about my experience as a Journeyman. I’m fairly certain that there isn’t a publishing company out there who would publish it, so I’ve thought spending the money to self-publish it, with any and all profits from the sale of copies going to the International Mission Board. My question, before I take this project on, though, is this — would anyone out there buy a book? Self-publishing isn’t cheap, but if I knew that the whole project would generate enough to cover the cost then possibly more for missions, then I would totally do it. What do you think?
Well, the laundry is calling my name, along with Ana, who is doing a wild dance on the living room floor. I’m just glad she’s not coming at me with a chainsaw, like she was during one portion of my horrific nightmare…