Period.

Habits are not always hard to change. I realized this just tonight as I was typing. I used to always put a double space after typing a sentence until recently when I heard that not very many people do that anymore*. I quickly switched over to only putting one space after my period (this "." not that "period") without really struggling with the old habit of hitting the spacebar twice. It was so simple.

This has made me realize that old habits are not always that hard to change. So why do I still have such a bad habit of always eating two cookies rather than just one? Why can't I simply give up eating that second cookie just like giving up that second spacebar tap? I know it's will power that has to do with the cookie business, but will power also has to do with holding back my thumb from hitting that spacebar. It was so easy to commandeer my willpower and say "Hey, don't you dare hit that spacebar a second time." and of course it listened to me and I had it trained pretty much immediately.

So, if anyone can kindly explain this weird phenomenon of me not being able to stop myself so easily from eating a second cookie, I would be much obliged.

*I believe this has something to do with when people used typewriters, it was difficult to locate the end of sentences, so they would add a second space after the end of a sentence to be able to locate it better. Now that computers can space the words perfectly, because computers are perfect like that, it's now easier to find the end of a sentence without having that second space.

A Conversation with Ella #12 or: Ella? Yeah, She's a Math Wiz

This morning Ella asked me what I was going to have for breakfast.

Me: "A banana."

Ella: Looking at the bowl and seeing that there are three bananas. "There will only be two bananas left."

On top of that she adds, "And if I eat one all by myself, then there will be one banana left."

Then, "And if daddy eats one, then he will have to buy more from the store."

That's right, my child is a math wizard. If only they made a school for math-craft and mathry*.

*A play on words from Harry Potter's Hogwarts a school for witchcraft and wizardry. Sorry, I recently (as in last night) watched a documentary called We Are Wizards about the fans of Harry Potter. Hilarious!

How I Stabbed Myself in the Finger

I took Quinn and Ella up to Lake Cushman over the weekend to stay at my parents cabin with them. It was the hottest weekend so far this summer. Actually the only hot weekend this summer so far.

I was a little hesitant to go in the beginning due to the thought of driving with Quinn in the car by myself. Paul was working over the weekend (like he does every weekend) and so couldn't go with me. Usually Quinn can't handle being in the car for more than a minute and starts to cry full force. The last time I was on a long distance car ride was over Memorial weekend for Paul's family reunion and lets just say Quinn cried across most of the state of Washington there and back.

Someone was on my side this weekend, though, and Quinn just cooed and awed as we drove through the evergreen trees and alongside the bay.

It was HOT! But a good hot. I was starting to go a little stir crazy at home because we have been having a more than dismal summer, so far. It was such a nice break leaving our house and traveling two hours to have a mini four day vacation.

Yaya brought a little blow up pool for Ella to swim in and as it was being blown up Ella stated to me that she did not want to go swimming. The moment the pool was filled-up with water by Papa, though, Ella jumped right in and was continually in and out of the pool the rest of the weekend forgetting the fact that originally she did not want to go swimming. She also acquired five splinters (or slivers, Paul) and was completely fine with it.

Quinn was happy as usual as long as he was being held 90% of the time. He didn't seem to mind the heat, either.

There was a trip to the local Walmart for some last minute baby supplies that were forgotten (I forgot to bring the bottoms of all Quinn's bottles, except for one, as well as the right size disposable diapers because I grabbed the wrong size from home, but hey, I'm not used to using disposable diapers because I am in love with using cloth diapers, remember?), a walk down to the lake and a stab to my finger which caused me to pass out not once, but TWICE!

I volunteered to cook dinner one night and was pitting an avocado with the best thing to use, a very long and large serrated carving knife. Yes, it was a bonehead move on my part. I was too confident in my knife wielding skills. This was what was going through my head the moments before the actual stab, 1) Is this the way Halie (my sister) said she removes the pit (but of course not with this very large knife) as I was holding the knife pointed to the pit, 2) This seems dangerous, 3) Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. This all happened in my head within a few split seconds. The next thing I remember was me holding my left index finger thinking the worst has happened, seeing a lot of blood (possibly diluted from the running water over it, but I was in a state of panic/shock so thought this was ALL my blood) and then feeling quite queasy and light headed. By this time my mom was holding me up as I was leaning over the sink and then the next moment I was being woken by my mom for some reason out of the best sleep I have had in a long time with her telling me "It's okay, it's okay." I still felt nauseous and tried to sit on the floor after waking up and apparently passed out again.

All the while Ella was entertaining herself in the living room and didn't know what was going on and then while I was lying on the kitchen floor Harry Potter came over and licked my face because he knew something was not right. No, I wasn't passed out again and dreaming of Harry Potter the boy wizard, this was really happening with Harry Potter the Corgi.

In conclusion, the weekend was good, stabbing my finger was bad and maybe I should have gotten stitches, but everything is healing up just fine. Oh, and Quinn didn't cry on the way home as well. The End.

P.S. I know, I know, I was using sposies (disposable diapers) over the weekend, but I wasn't really prepared to take a bunch of dirty cloth diapers home in my car. I mean, I am not that crazy over cloth...

He likes it, he really likes it!

It's only been a month since I started cloth diapering Quinn, but it feels like it has been a lot longer. Not because I don't enjoy it, though. To put it simply, I AM OBSESSED! I am so obsessed with cloth diapering!! I am sure everyone who knows me is tired of hearing about it, but I do truly love it. I have been doing so much research on cloth diapers and have been so immersed in them that it feels like I have been cloth diapering Quinn since birth. There is so much to learn about cloth diapers and so many options to choose from.

I love the feeling that I am doing something good for the planet. I read that by the time a baby is potty trained they go through 8,000 to 10,000 disposable diapers and those diapers stick around for 300 years in a land fill. That means Quinn's great great great great great great great great great (I think I did my math right on the amount of greats) grandchildren will be around when Quinn's diapers are still in the landfill.

Quinn's cloth diapers are so simple. He wears a diaper cover and the diaper insert is all that needs to be changed, the cover can be reused throughout the day until it gets dirty (I am sure you know what kind of dirty I mean). I even started using cloth wipes because it made much more sense to just throw the cloth wipe in with the diapers to be washed rather than worrying about tossing out the wipe. And the wipe solution is easy to make and smells so good.

I am sure everyone is getting bored with all of this so I will leave you with this cute picture of Quinn in one of his custom BSRB diapers (made by a work-at-home-mom).