In which I piss off my SAHM readers

This past weekend I accompanied BT to a backyard BBQ at the home of one of his fishing club friends. I know most of the guys, but never really met any of the wives. Feeling a little awkard, as I am not good at the social chit chatty thing with people I don't know, I sat at the "wives" table with the baby. In general most people were very nice, and everyone made very pleasant conversation. Most knew that seamonkey was adopted, as BT kept his fishing buddies informed during the whole process.

First, I should say that it's funny how I still don't feel part of the mommy club. I do feel like seamonkey's mom, when I'm with him and when we're with family. But being a mom as I relate to other (non family) moms is just ....weird. It's hard to explain. Suddenly my conversations are all about kids. Why? Is there nothing else to talk about? Do you really care when my son learned to crawl? Because I could care less about when yours did. It's nice to know about people's kids, as they are now - how many, what gender, what they're into and stuff...but why must we rehash entire childhoods? Can't we talk about news, movies, life in general? I am amazed that people ask me so many questions about the past 8 months of his life - it's so weird to me. It's worse when it becomes a competition, but I don't understand why those conversations get started in the first place. I am not defined by the fact that I have a child. Yeesh, I just got over being defined by my infertility and people want to stuff me in yet another pigeon hole....Anyway, I digress from the point of this post.

As I said, most people were very nice. Except one. The one I refer to as 'that ASS'. How that woman didn't end up with my fist lodged in her face by the end of the day is beyond me. Truthfully, I think what saved her is the fact that I wanted to be nice for the sake of my husband. I only later found out that he can't stand the husband either. She is lucky I did not have that information while I was sitting there.

When I first arrive, I sit in the only vacant seat, which was kind of in the sun, with the baby on my lap. THE ASS says "Honey, why don't you move over here so the baby doesn't get a sunburn" in a real condescending how-stupid-are-you tone. First, don't call me honey. Second, when I first sat down, your whiney child was still sitting there so there was nowhere else to sit. Okay fine, I move to sit right next to her. She talks in this very sing songy voice and is all me me me, have I told you about me? And how about me? And in case you didn't know? Me.

I soon realize that I met her before. BT took our Pilot on it's maiden voyage onto the beach. Her and I were the only women there, the rest were all fisherman from the club. When she formally introduced herself, I told her we had met. She gives me this ridiculous face and says "Sorry" as in, "I can't be expected to remember all of my fans". She knew who I was, I'm sure of it.

At one point, all the husbands go and take a picture in front of their fishing club banner. All of the wives, including me, make comments about what dorks they are. I mean, come on...grown men. Fishing club. Need I say more. THE ASS says "well...I really can't make fun, because I happen to LOVE to fish. And...my husband is this close to becoming president of the club". Oooh, President? Wow! You must be so proud. I am so jealous that you are on deck to be THE FIRST WIFE of this raggety band of beer drinking bait smelling fisherman! I bow to your greatness!

Then THE ASS' husband is trying to prevent their son from going up to the pool deck without his lifejacket on (he's 5) and the kid is arguing about it. THE ASS yells up and asks what the problem is, husband explains. THE ASS then starts talking to the husband in that sing song voice like he's two..."Now honey (honey again!) he's a big boy now, I know you want to help him, but he's got to learn for himself...." Learn for himself? By drowning? And if my husband ever spoke to me like that in front of a group of people I would punch his lights out.

The aforementioned 5 year old? Has a mohawk. On his head. He's 5. Mohawk. 5.

Then came the straw on the proverbial camel's back. The dreaded SAHM discussion. I hate that discussion, because I am not a SAHM. When people get around to asking me, and I tell them our situation (I work, BT is a SAHD) everyone gets quiet and it's usually the end of the conversation. Usually I keep quiet the entire time, as I don't like to judge other people's situations, just like I don't like others to judge mine. But up to this point THE ASS has been jumping up and down repeatedly on my last nerve.

An older woman with grown children is talking benignly about raising her children, in the context of how things are so different today. THE ASS hears the words "stayed home with my children" and cuts her off by saying "--HARDEST JOB THERE IS. HARDER THAN ANY MAN'S JOB!". So my eyebrows shoot up, because I assume by "man's job" she means anyone with a job outside the home. Still trying to keep my foot out of her ass, I say "Well, I think that depends. It depends on what job you have (or had), how old and how active your kids are...I don't think you can make such a blanket statement". Of course she ignores me and prattles on and on about how EXHAUSTED she is and how her husband just doesn't GET IT and blah blah blah blah blah. She was in the RESTAURANT INDUSTRY so she worked at night and the hours were long, and blah blah blah and being a waitress - Wait, you were a freaking WAITRESS?? That's your big stressful job?? I snorted out loud at that one. She keeps going....blah blah My husband thinks I just sit AROUND all day blah blah..... Finally I say "Well guess what. I work full time and my husband stays home. I'm sure if you ask him he'll agree that he has the better end of the deal. I work all day and I come home and then I'm the mommy too". First came the expected silence. Then came the questions from the others, including asking what I did. I normally don't expound upon what I do, and never use my very official and important sounding title, but I had to this time, and did so in my "SO NOT A WAITRESS" voice. The conversation turned focus away from THE ASS, and since she was no longer the center of attention, she got up from the table.

I know this woman is a particular breed of annoying, but please, someone, for the life of me, explain why some (notice I say some here) SAHM's find the need to justify their position all the time? Of course your job is important. If it wasn't you and your husband wouldn't have agreed to have you home. Face it, the job comes with perks. Like you can go to the beach for the day, or in my husband's case, work on his boat, take the boy to the tackle store...whatever. Don't get defensive about it, be happy you can do those things. There are times I get to go to a fancy dinners without BT and he ribs me for it. So what? And why must we always compare anyway? Why does one job have to be harder than the other? I can see making your case if you are talking to someone like THE ASS (probably like her husband is) who insists that SAHMs do nothing but eat bonbons all day. But many people don't think that way. Please don't wear your SAHM badge like a chip on your shoulder. You don't know me, my family situation or my work situation. So please don't imply that your job is harder than mine. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Who cares? Raise your kid and I'll raise mine. It's not a contest.

And whether you're a SAHM, SAHD or you work, be proud of your role. We're all in this together.

And my kid crawled at 9 months. Did yours???

Because I'm crazy like that...

So the thank you cards for the boy's Baptism were mailed and received by all. I made them myself, using some scrap book paper and a picture of him with his little sailor suit. I've learned that my scrapbooking skills can use some work. I would show you, but I neglected to save one for myself.

I would breathe a sigh of relief now that the entire event is behind me. But alas, I've gotten myself into another fine mess. Seamonkey is going to be one year old in 4 short weeks. And he must have a fantabulous party.

So what should be a sigh of relief is now a deep breath to steel myself in preparation of all the craziness that is about to ensue. I've got to keep this inexpensive, so alot of this has to be done ourselves. We have an awesome theme that we are very excited about...

A Backyard Crab Boil!

We're going to borrow two big turkey fryer pots and layer them up with crabs, clams, corn, potatoes all seasoned up...and once done we'll dump them out on tables covered in butcher paper. We'll have burgers and franks too, and a bunch of homemade cold salads.


I plan on making a big birthday cake, and originally I was going to attempt to do a crab (the whole party will be crab themed) but BT thought I should do a SpongeBob cake. Seamonkey has this weird thing for SpongeBob, and whenever the opening theme song comes on he will stop what he's doing and dance. There's a few on the web that I may try, like this one, which comes with video instructions. Yes I am insane. Needless to say I took the entire day of work off the day before the party. I also plan to make these freaking adorable cupcakes that you can see on the cover of this book. If spongebob doesn't work out, I'm going to make extra cupcakes and arrange them in the shape of a 1. Always good to have a plan B.

I am making the invitations too, and so far I have the inside done, but I am still wrestling about with the outside. I'll show you when I've got the prototype finished. I've got to get them out very soon, since the party is on the Saturday of Labor Day weekend...I'm sure people are already making plans. I've spread the word verbally already so everyone pretty much knows.


Decorations will be mostly balloons and streamers, nothing too fancy. Of course, we need to put in a concrete patio and elevated deck on the house. Nothing like a party to light the fire under your husband's ass. We already had workers come and excavate for the patio, ripping up the side of the house and part of the front lawn in the process, but I told myself I am not going to hyperventilate about it. It's just family, and there really isn't any need to stress.

There will some kids there, and I'm not sure what to do for them. Most of them are in the 2-5 range or in the 8-12 range. What can I buy to keep them occupied? I have some bubbles, temporary tattoos and sidewalk chalk - any other ideas?

Yes, I know he is one and won't remember a thing. But this is as much a party for us as for him. We made it to a whole year and he's still all in one piece and even growing and becoming a real little boy. That's cause for celebration, no? Plus, I need something to look forward to if my summer has to end.

A little follow up..

Can I tell you what is just so funny....I was cracking up that everyone was saying how brave and daring I was to go camping, and that I am such a trooper. I really wish you could have seen the first draft of that post. After I wrote the whole thing I thought "Wow, I am a total negative complainy beyotch, lighten up Francis, it wasn't THAT bad".

But the truth is I mostly hated it.

The baby part was really not so bad - we are one of those really obnoxious couples that is blessed with a naturally good baby... he really doesn't cry unless he has good reason (don't worry, I'm sure God will get me back in the toddler years). The worst part was with me. We got up so early on Friday morning I didn't shower. If I don't wash my hair every single day I get so greezy you can fry an egg on my head. So by mid day I was a wrinkled, no makeup wearing, tired, cranky greasy headed mess. I was especially cranky when I had to get out of the car and let other humans see me. I know I should have a "screw 'em" attitude, but you know, us fat girls can NOT be going out of the house like that. We rely on the hair and makeup to distract others from the not so pretty parts. So I was definitely not a happy camper (ha! that never gets old!). I had a good day on Saturday because I got to shower and dress somewhat nicely. Sunday was downhill again because it was raining so hard I just wanted to get packed and leave, so again I didn't shower. Big mistake. When we got home my bro was there with his girlfriend, who is skinny and always dressed nicely and although she is very nice I always feel like a bit fat schlub around her. Anyway, you didn't come here to hear all that did you?

Changing subjects.... remember the friend that told me he and his wife couldn't have children? Well I read all of your comments and decided that I would send an email, short and sweet like you said, and without mentioning adoption. It basically said that I knew we kind of got awkward there for a minute, but I wanted to let him know that I knew how he felt and that if he ever needed a sympathetic ear, I was available. I didn't hear anything back from him for several days. I thought "oh great, now he's pissed". I would have expected at least a "thanks" in return, even if he was mad or whatever. But then I saw him in person again, and at the end of our conversation he acknowledged the email. He said he really appreciated it and that it was very nice of me to send it. It seemed like he was trying to get across that his situation DOES really suck and that it might really STILL be sucking pretty bad. I have no idea when they stopped treatment - who knows it could just have been recently. So in the end, I was glad I sent it. Maybe someday he'll ask me more about adoption...I really hope so. I mean, does anyone ever really stop wanting to have kids? I know there are some people who never try and aren't interested, and that's fine...but if you go to the trouble of going through treatments, you've got to want it pretty bad, right?. You can't just turn that off. How can adoption not be an option? I don't think money is the problem. I think it must be that they need some more time to grieve.

*sigh* Whatever Starfish, you can't fix everyone's problems.

In happier news, I have entered Sig's Monday Giveaway this week. Somehow I lost touch with my friend Sig and her beautiful guatemalan daughter, but now I'm back (I did some house cleaning in blog lines and think I've got it all worked out now). To enter the giveaway, I have to tell you who my secret fantasy men are. Okay, these run the gamut, and you are NOT allowed to hold these against me!

Okay, no secret that I like this guy, although "hot" is probably not the right word. I am a total sucker for a nice smile:Another obvious choice, and another great smile:

Kind of have a thing for this guy too:

I've loved this guy forever:And this guy too (see a trend here - tall, dark and handsome is my thing)

Okay, now for my closet crushes (shhh don't tell)

I'll bring your sexy back baby...

Lead singer of my favorite band. Although in my fanstasy he looks like he used to: And not what he looks like now (yikes!)

Camping with Baby

Hello all…I’ve been gone did you miss me? BT and I headed off to into the wild green yonder this past weekend…I say green because we went to Vermont to go camping with the baby.

Moo.

We used to camp fairly often when we were first married. We didn’t have much money, or much time off of work, so making long weekend trips to various New England spots fit our bill nicely. BT was always very good at picking campsites that were relatively clean, with decent bathroom facilities and that were close to the local attractions. We would pack up the car (little red Honda hatchback) with snacks and CD’s and off we went.

So since we’ve been back from Colombia, we’ve been talking about doing more vaction-ey type things. But since we don’t have much money left over, or vacation time left over, our options are limited at this particular time. Enter – camping. Makes sense, right?

We decided to take a three day weekend and drive up to Grand Isle State Park, located on an island in Lake Champlain. We were here once before, many moons ago, and had a great time. Back then, an elderly park ranger eagerly plotted out a route for us on a local map, encouraging us to experience all the local culture. We hiked many different trails. We went to a church spaghetti dinner. We ate at a local diner called the “Squirrel’s Nest”. We made beeswax candles at a candle shop on Church Street in Burlington. So many great memories we couldn’t wait to recreate.

Uh, well….didn't exactly turn out that way.

First of all, the weather was really crappy. Cloudy and drizzly the whole six and half hour drive up. My poor little baby was stuck in that car seat and he was not a happy camper (ha get it). When we got to the campsite everything was wet and muddy. We found out that Ranger Rick retired many years ago, and was replaced by a young Jesus look alike who wasn’t nearly as eager for us to soak up the local culture. But we managed to set up our cozy little corner as best we could.

The first night we went to Burlington to this place, and we had a lovely meal in their quaint alleyway. The waitress somehow knew that seamonkey was Hispanic and chatted away endlessly to him in his native tongue. He blinked those long eyelashes at her and smiled in his charming way.

The next day we had beautiful weather. We started out our day by having breakfast at the Ferry Dock where you can take your car across to Plattsburgh, NY. It was one of those hidden treasures – a complete dump with friendly people and awesome food. We went down to Church Street but sadly, all the quaint business are gone – replaced by commercial behemoths like Eddie Bauer, Old Navy and Urban Outfitters….and smaller trendy overpriced stores. No beeswax candles to be had. There was a very cool green market nearby, and we wandered through there, stopping to sample awesome homemade Indian food, and great local products like cheese and honey. After that, we headed to the Magic Hat brewery to get us some glasses of No. 9. The tour was short but amusing and the beer was cold. Amazing that all of that beer comes out of that tiny little place.

We left the brewery and drove around…we used our navigation to find us a park, and we came upon a small state park that had a nice walking trail where we could take the stroller down to a small beach. It was so nice to be surrounded with all that peace and quiet and all that green-ness. That kind of thing really recharges your batteries, you know? Seamonkey enjoyed the beach, which was really mostly mud and dirt – and we let him crawl around in it and be a total boy. There was only one time that I wasn’t quick enough and he put an entire fist of the stuff directly into his mouth. I literally had to scoop it out, and would you believe he found the whole thing hilarious. Didn’t even make a face at the nasty tasting dirt. Weird kid.

Saturday night we hung out at the campsite. We had a heck of a time figuring out how to bathe the boy….We ended up having all of us go into a shower room, standing a wet wriggling boy on a very small bench, soaping him up and sticking him under the shower for a rinse. He was mostly annoyed by the whole thing but thankfully did not have a meltdown. We had takeout dinner and relaxed by a wonderfully smelling campfire. We took turns holding the baby, singing every song we could to keep his attention and distract him from wanting to crawl around in the mud. Do you guys remember that song “John Brown’s Baby”? Where you do this hand motion thing…John Browns Baby (rock imaginary baby ) had a cold (cough into your fist) upon his chest (thump chest) and they rubbed it (rub your chest) with camphorated oil….. I totally forgot that sucker and I brought that out of the arsenal which cracked seamonkey up to no end! Also kind of bizarre was that he was babbling incessantly up to the sky…waving his arms as if he was trying to emphatically make a point to someone or something. Not sure if he was just intrigued by the tall trees that surrounded our site leaving only a bright patch of sky above, or if he was berating God for placing him with this insane family that insists on sleeping in a nylon room in the middle of a mud puddle. Again, weird kid.
Sunday I awoke to seamonkey in my arms and the sounds of my husband rousing the fire outside. Not a bad way to wake up on the 10th Anniversary of one’s 28th Birthday. Unfortunately it was another crappy day, and it started to rain so much that BT had to run into the truck and we were communicating on walkie talkies for a while. “Truck to Tent – Over” “Tent here – this sucks, over” “Affirmative. Truck out” Somehow we managed to pack up everything in the rain and head out. We decided to stop and Ben & Jerry’s which I could have sworn was somewhere in the middle of rolling green hills…but no, it was right off the highway sitting atop a hill in front of a very muddy parking lot. There was construction going on and it was crowded. The ice cream didn’t even taste and good as I remember. Oh well. We came. We saw. We ate ice cream.

All in all it was a good time, but I think the thought of camping is always better than the reality of camping...no? Of course my manly man husband, who enjoyed plodding around in the mud and playing with fire exclaims "this was great, let's plan another 3 day weekend in August!". Uh yeah....why don't we just think that over a little more there chief....

Once home we had a real home cooked meal waiting for us (Baked Ziti) and my little brother, who will always be my little bratty brother for his entire life, made me this cake.

He got me a Michael's gift card (going to start scrapbooking now) so he made up for it.

Thought I would share some things that were indispensable for us during this trip:

Jogging stroller - great for the street as well as hiking trails. Rides like a dream.
Hook on Chair - Best thing we ever bought - better than a high chair at restaurants
Rubber place mat - put it under the arms of the hook on chair and you've got a completely sanitary environment - the catchall prevents baby from making an embarrassing mess underneath.
Formula Dispenser - Keeps 3 servings of premeasured formula in a compact container.
Avent Tempo bottle system - Disposable liners enable you to bring only one or two bottles with you.
Baby Trend Pack n play - Small & Compact, and easy to fold & unfold. Great for home too.
Gerber Baby Puffs - I kept ziplock baggies of these everywhere, they are good to tide baby over if you are stuck in traffic
Saline spray and aspirator - Different climate made the boy's nose really dry.
Huggies disposable washclothes - These were great for baby and parents alike. No washclothes to hang out and dry.

Speechless for once

You'll notice I just posted two very late monthly updates. I am a bad mommy blogger. He's well into month 10 and I am just posting these now. In truth, it was hard to even remember what happened when, but I did my best. I should start drafting the 10 month post while things are still fresh...oh the drawbacks of being an old mom.

Thanks for all your kind comments on my unsent letter. The letter will remain unsent, for many of the reasons you all didn't send your letters...resentful, stubborn, afraid of rejection...you know. I don't get the sense that this whole thing is quite over yet, I don't think too much time has passed, but I could be wrong. I have this feeling that I am destined to run into her somewhere soon, and truthfully I panic a little every time I am in a place I know she could be (we only live 10 minutes apart). I suppose time will reveal all...we'll just have to see. It is amazing how we all have one of those letters in our back pockets, huh?

I had a very awkward conversation today, and I have alot of mixed emotions about it. I was talking to someone who is about my age, and who I always guessed was affected by infertility because he and his wife do not have children. We have known each other for a while, but only recently have had cause to talk more frequently. I try to be conscious about what I say around him, because I know what it was like to hear people prattle on endlessly about their kids. Today, as we made small talk about family and things, he told me that he and his wife had made the decision not to have children, since all their efforts to concieve were unsuccesful. They felt that it just wasn't meant to be. Would you believe that I had not one clue on how to respond? I kind of stared down at the table and tried my best to sympathize with him - I let him know we went through 3 horrible years of it too. Turns out we went to the same clinic at one point. He didn't really want to talk about it so the words kind of just hung in the air between us. I guess he just wanted to let me know - I asked him if he considered adoption and he said yes, they decided it just wasn't for them.

I was at a total loss on what to say and it really bothered me. It's not really my business, I am nothing to him, but maybe I wanted to help him in some way and I couldn't. I feel like I should have said more, or said the right thing to want him to talk about it. Of course, I wanted to tell him that adoption was the best thing that ever happened to me. That I too thought that God was trying to tell me something and that the day I saw my son's face that feeling completely evaporated. But who I am to say that to him? Who knows what his reasons are and what does it matter, really.

I feel like I should follow up the conversation with an email or something - Something to acknowledge that I appreciate him telling me, that I'm sorry it was awkward, and if he ever wants to talk about adoption, I'm available. Think I should? Or just let it lie?

In other news, it's hot as hell here today. Feels like 106 outside. Yesterday I had jury duty. I had to laugh at the people who were bitching about it. You'd rather be at work in this heat? I had a lovely time sitting around in the nice air conditioning, crocheting away and people watching. I never got called - at the end of the day we were released for time served. Now I'm good for 6 years. I was kind of hoping I did get picked, I think it would have been interesting. But it's okay, we're going away for the weekend beginning on Friday and it would have sucked if I had to cancel.

Are you staying cool?

Monthly update - 9 months old

Dear Seamonkey:

June, your 9th month was a very emotional one for me. The only way I can really describe it, is by saying this is the month that I felt like you loved me back. Of course, we've loved you from the start, and you were always happy and smiley under our care. But this month, it's like you love us because you want to, not because you have to. This month was the first time you shied into my shoulder when a stranger approached. It was the first time you cried when I left the room. And honestly, those moments made me tear up too. You are growing into a real live little person right before our eyes, and it an amazing thing to think we figured out how to make that all happen without any major incident.

The most important event this month was of course your baptism. You were baptized in St. Christopher's church, and you were a good boy. Well, except for the loud babbling and craning your neck to look back and your grandparents. We had a great party for you afterwards. You did not cry once the entire day. You let everyone hold you, and you even "danced" on the dance floor - I sat you down in the middle and you started bouncing up and down and clapping your hands. A good time was had by all.

Also this month we went to the annual picnic for our adoption agency, and we got to see all the new babies who have come home. It was really a treat to talk with all the families that did what we did, and to hold the beautiful Colombian children. You hammed it up as usual, clapping and waving on cue to everyone's delight. You discovered your first playground there, and you LOVE the swings.Since then we have taken you to other parks to swing. You also like to hang on the monkey bars. You are so strong that you will actually hang there holding your own weight. We stay close by though, because that cracks you up and makes you let go.

You wave bye bye really well now, although you usually do it with two hands, and kind of out to your sides so you look like a bird. You will do it on cue when someone says "bye bye". You have just started to say bye bye yourself, more like a "bah" but we can see you know the word and are trying to say it. You say mama ("mamamama") and dada ("adah") too, but not exactly discrimately yet. Your babble has changed into your own little language, complete with multi-sylllable words and intonations as if you are really having a conversation. We talk back to you that way and apparently whatever we are saying, we are hilarious. You seem to be the most talkative in the bathtub.

Your hair is riotiously curly, so much so that I actually put hair gel in it to keep it somewhat contained. You have TWO teeth now, and among other things, you use them to bite your crib rails. You would think we keep a pet beaver in there. It has become apparent that you now have a favorite blanket; the blue and white chenille one:You sleep so much better with it...you grab it in your hands just right and then shove your thumb in your mouth. Once you "assume the position" we know it won't be long until you are zonked out. We wonder if we will have to tear this blanket away from you in the dead of night when you are 9 to avoid any mental scarring, but for now, it's a comfort to you and that's a good thing. We got smart and bought two extra, leaving one in your crib and one in the car. You kind of suck on them so they get pretty nasty quickly, and one of them is usually in the wash at all times.

When you are awake, you are moving. You are never still. Even when you are drinking your bottle, you are kicking your feet or patting our arms. You are pulling yourself up like crazy now, and can cruise very well on the furniture. To our dismay, you are also an expert at climbing stairs, so needless to say we bought a gate this month. You don't like roadblocks, and will dive headfirst into or over things to get where you want to go. You've just begun standing for a few seconds without holding on...you discovered that when you wanted to clap your hands while standing up. Everything still requires applause:

You are still a happy, loving, easy going little boy. We have spent many weekends at BBQ's with family and friends, and you've enjoyed it all with us. You still have a love affair with cupcakes:

It's now become a habit for everyone to give you one wherever we go. I suppose it won't kill you, athough no one really gives us a choice...I don't hold you much when we are around family. Everyone snaps you up and you seem to be okay with it. You love your grandparents and your aunt and uncle very much, which absolutely delights them.

It has been so much fun spending our favorite time of year with you. We love you more each day.

Monthly update - 8 months old

Dear Seamonkey:


These have been some incredibly busy months! So busy that I haven’t had a moment to sit down and write your last two monthly updates.

May was your eighth month, and we celebrated a lot things. First was our 10th Wedding Anniversary. We were so happy to celebrate this milestone with you. I originally wanted to do something big and fancy, but I found that it was just wonderful to go to a local restaurant with you and your grandparents and just be together. It was the first time you were in a restaurant highchair and you did pretty well. You got antsy only after a good 25 minutes.


We also celebrated my first Mother’s Day. Once again I was happy to keep things simple and spend the day with you and your father. It was a beautiful day, and we spent it shopping and hanging out with both sets of grandparents. You were in a good mood all day and we had alot of fun with you. It was a little surreal for me to finally have a child on Mother's Day, and I don't think it ever really sunk all the way in.

We took you on your second official plane ride to Florida to visit family and have a mini vacation. You did well on the plane, although you liked to flirt with all the women you see. Those eyelashes are irresistible, and I fear for the safety of your future female classmates. We schlepped you from hotel to hotel, constantly in and out of cars and strollers and you rolled with the punches like a champ. You even slept well, considering we put you in all kinds of make shift beds. We did manage to put you in a hotel crib when we could:During this vacation we brought you to see Aunt M in her new house. Upon arrival, we set you on the floor and you immediately started to crawl for the first time. We couldn’t believe it. We aren’t sure what prompted you to do it, but from that point on we couldn’t turn our backs on your for a second. You were thrilled with this new found skill too, and decided that every inch of your world must be explored post haste. What we thought was going to be a relaxing beach vacation turned out to be quite the opposite, but it was exciting to see you interacting with your surroundings more.
Although we deferred your swimming lessons until the fall (because you were getting too traumatized) you LOVED the pool in Florida. We took you to three different pools and you couldn’t get enough of them. You splashed and splashed like crazy, only stopping when you got water in your mouth. Everyone couldn’t believe how much fun you were having.
Speaking of fun, you also learned to clap on this trip. We had been trying to teach you for some weeks, and then all of a sudden you did it! Now you do it all the time. You will be crawling and then you will suddenly stop and look at us and clap, expecting us to say “YAY!” every time. Yes, my prince, everything you do requires applause.
On the not so fun side, you got your first tooth this month. You were pretty cranky, so we knew something was up. Although you didn’t drool at all, you did pull at your ears a bit and gnaw on everything you could get your hands on (not to mention the voluminous nasty diapers). You look even more adorable with your one little snaggle tooth on the bottom.

Your sleeping habits have changed alot. You no longer sleep on your back in your "victory pose", but rather on your stomach or side...and you are very restless all night. You have been known to wake up in the middle of the night, sit up and start babbling, then flump back down with no warning, usually with your butt up in the air.You are still doing well foodwise...there really isn't anything you don't like the taste of. We've tried to move you to stage 3 foods, but you don't really care for the half mush half solid consistency. We can give you all mush, or all solid, but the combo makes you gag. We have started to give you little pieces of table food like chicken or cheese and you like them just fine. We're not pushing it though, you make quite the mess and feeding takes forever that way. Bread is the miracle worker though...give you a hunk of hard bread(or baby cookie) and you will stay quiet for as long as there is a piece solid enough to hold.

And sometimes when I'm not looking, your grandparents slip you something better:
We love you Monkey, more than words can say.

Unsent

Dear X:

It's been like a year and a half since we last spoke. I can't believe it, can you? Are you glad? Do you miss me? Are you angry? Or sad? Both? Neither?

As for me, I'm both. I think about you pretty much every day. I miss our friendship terribly. When I think about how your kids are almost two and they don't know who I am it makes me very very sad. I stood by you through your difficult journey to get those kids, and now I feel like I'm being cheated out of the final reward. This isn't how it was supposed to happen. I was supposed to be there. Buy them toys that annoy their parents, give them too much candy, teach them to say things they shouldn't say just for the entertainment factor. But somehow we ended up here in this awful place.

I am still angry. And I guess that anger is overriding my sadness or else I would have reached out to you by now. I may not have said the right words, and I may have over reacted, but I had a real reason to be angry that night. I was frustrated with my situation having just spent another freaking Christmas without a child, while in the middle of my third and final cycle which wasn't looking promising. I had alot of shit going on in my head and I was trying very hard to keep it all in. I know you were busy and life wasn't all wine and roses for you then either, but I felt abandoned during what was becoming the worst time of my life - having to finally accept pregnancy would never happen. Abandoned by someone who knew FIRST HAND how hard it all was to deal with, just when I needed her most. I guess you could say I abandoned you as well, you weren't having an easy time of it either, but dammit, I still say that I would have killed to have your problems at that point, and that is the part I just cannot get over.

I thought that somehow things would blow over...expecting our husbands to see the ridiculousness of all of it - but apparently they didn't have the energy (or the balls, take your pick) to get involved. I suppose it got worse when I didn't acknowledge your nephew being born - but honest to God I didn't even know until many weeks later, and at that point I felt like an idiot. I saw your cousin on the train, which was horribly awkward because I wasn't sure what she knew or how she felt. I said I would email but I didn't. My biggest regret in this whole thing (more than even my choice of words that night) is that I didn't at least send your sister a card.

So, I think you got back at me by not acknowledging the major incident that occurred in my life right after that, and honestly, that's where you lost my husband. He can't understand how our stupid fight didn't go right out the window when you heard the news, and how you didn't send some kind of acknowledgement of what I was going through. Funny, that part doesn't bother me so much, I think because I feel it's a trade off about your nephew. But that made him very angry. I think its the reason he didn't acknowledge your husband's email about our 10 year wedding anniversary. Was that an attempt to open the door to reconciliation? I secretly hoped so. I'm not sure how or if he responded, he won't talk to me about it so I stopped asking.

Several months ago he ran into an old mutual friend of ours. Even though you and she had stopped talking to each other since your pregnancy, she knew about our adoption indirectly through you. She asked him to have me call her to get together since we hadn't seen each other in such a long whille. It may surprise you to know that I won't do it...she will always be your friend first, and if you two still aren't speaking I think it would be a betrayal to you for me to talk to her now. Seems ridiculous under the current circumstances, but something won't let me do it. He brought the baby to see her though, did you know that? Did it bother you?

There have been many funny things that I wished I could share with you...I've played imaginary conversations in my head of the jokes we would make about stuff that has happened. The biggest one of course being that our old friend "Hat" is pregnant. Oh how I wish I could talk to you about that...how you found out, how you reacted, how everyone must be going nuts over it. If we ever speak again, I've got about 16 hours of material on it.

Despite my overriding anger, I do hope that somehow we can get back some part of what we lost. If I had my way, circumstances would arrange themselves so that we would get together without either one of us having to make the first move - some kind of spontaneous accidental encounter. I'm sure we both have alot to say to each other - there must be parts of this that I can't understand because I am too blinded by my own feelings. Or who knows - maybe you are okay with having this friendship end - you've always had alot of people around you, and didn't necessarily need me. I wish I knew so I could get some kind of closure on this. Until then, I'll just continue to wonder how you feel and wait for an inevitable awkward encounter around town.

In any case, I hope you are well. I hope your family is happy and your kids are healthy. I hope you are thinking the same thing about me and mine.

How a seamonkey gets its name...

Wendy's post reminded me of a story. For some reason I haven't wanted to share it before now. And some of you will read it and roll your eyes - and that's fine, roll on and then go clickety clicking on to the next blog on your blogroll...you know me...

When we first got the call for seamonkey we were really thrown by his name. We already had names all picked out and ready to go, but there was something about his name that made us stop in our tracks. We kinda liked it, but it wasn't all that common here. Looking back now, I think that BT and I knew from the start that we really wanted to keep it. Our friends and family tried to appear supportive, but we could tell they thought it was a little too out there (Remember, we're Italian, so all the names in our family are your basic saint names - Anthony, Christopher, Joseph..). But I really felt that somehow I was supposed to keep it, even if we didn't love it all that much. We didn't want to make it his middle name, because we really wanted BT's brother's name in there somewhere, and while I respect the memory of his brother, ain't no way I was calling my new son George (sorry all you Georges out there). The whole dilemma was really upsetting to me. I was stressed out and overwhelmed already, and this was putting me over the edge. I agonized over it for days. I couldn't sleep. I kept trying on the different names, saying them out loud to his picture to see how I felt about it. I was going nuts.

A few days before we were to leave for Colombia, I had to travel to another part of the city to get our visas. I was sitting on the subway, once again thinking about what we should do. Now you know I'm a little touchy about the prayer stuff - but I was really at a loss. "Please God," I thought, "just give me a sign, any little sign to help me decide if we should keep his name". And then I immediately thought how ridiculous I was, but started scanning all the printed material around me anyway to see if somehow his name would appear before me. I didn't see anything.

I went into the consulate, which was ridiculously crowded, and made my way up to the visa floor. There was somone already being helped in the office I needed to go into, so I waited outside. There were lots of people milling around and I was looking at all the children and playing a mental game of "if that kid was my referral would I think they were cute?" (In most cases the answer was yes - hard to find an ugly Colombian kid). Just then this little boy shoots across the floor in a dead run, making a bee line for the office I was waiting to go into. So I jump in front of him to slow him down, and his mom comes running after him screaming (you guessed it) "Seamonkey!"

People, I really and truly lost my shit. I started sobbing right there in the office and everyone was staring at me. Of course right then I get called into see the Visa guy and tried to explain myself but he could care less. I went to see my brother who works right near the consulate. We went to lunch and I cried. He mostly stared back at me wide eyed, because I never cry. I cried the entire way back on the subway and fit in with all the other crazies. I only calmed down when I got back to my office.


So that's how seamonkey got his name for good. We didn't officially stick with it until we actually laid eyes on him, just to be sure. And truthfully for the first few months I never used his name because I felt weird about it (he was mostly "the baby" or "monkey"). I didn't totally love it even though I felt I did the right thing. When asked his name, I would quickly explain that he was adopted and he was born with that name, in case people thought I was crazy.

But I like it now. He is a unique little boy and he has a name to match. We don't have a nickname for him and I prefer that people use his full name. I'm sure his football buddies will come up with something when the time comes.

And a good time was had by all....

It all went well, it really did. Just like you all said it would. You guys are always right, I should listen to you more often.

Friday night BT and I were up late putting together the centerpieces. It was the last thing we had to do, and we both agreed that no matter what else happened, we wouldn’t stress out and let it ruin the day. I think we did a pretty good job of sticking to that promise.

The dress didn’t end up looking totally fabulous in the next size. It was just okay. But I was comfortable and the shoes were very cute. Seamonkey looked totally adorable in his linen sailor suit. The in-laws came right on time and I didn’t even want to smack any of them, not even my SIL…not even once! Can you believe it?? Not once the entire day! Do I get a gold star or something? Surely this must count for something somewhere, no?

The church was kind of anti-climactic. A deacon I never saw before performed the “ceremony”. He babbled on for quite a bit, saying a lot of nothing other than “please pray for these children” over and over, which I didn’t totally get. Admittedly though, it was hard to follow because Seamonkey was babbling pretty loudly the entire time and I was trying my darndest to keep him quiet with limited success. Note to self, next time have Grandpa sit on the other side of the church so he is not a distraction to your child. But what I did hear was kind of flat and unemotional and not very…churchy. At one point he told us how one mother thought he was serious when he teased that the fathers are supposed to keep standing until the baptism candle went out – “I told her ‘get a life lady!’” Yeah, real nice!. We were the first ones up to the font, and it was essentially pour, pour, pour, okay thanks, NEXT! Hmmm…not exactly the solemn sacred ceremony I was hoping for. Oh well. But there were more people at the church than we expected, and it was nice to have the support of those we loved there.

The whole thing, despite having 10 children there to be baptized, took less than 45 minutes. That left 2 hours and 15 minutes before our party started. So we had everyone back at our house. We didn’t expect to have so many people, so BT had to do a mad dash to the grocery store for provisions. As soon as he got back, hot and sweaty, he went to go into our bedroom and found the door locked with no one inside but the cats. We lost the key, so we usually just don’t ever shut the door if we are outside of the room. His sister was trying to be nice and keep the guests out. BT was freaking out pretty good, and I had to really calm him down. Finally, he just made like a bad episode of Starsky and Hutch and rammed the door with his body. The whole door is now a splintered mess, but it’s open and I think it made him feel better. I agreed to let him go to the hall early and have a drink.

The place really looked nice considering it was onlu a Knights of Columbus hall. The centerpieces, placecards, and votives all turned out great, and the room was a vision of blue and white. Our neighbor is a DJ, and she provided the music free of charge. We had old and young alike doing the Electric Slide, Chicken Dance, and my favorite - Cotton Eye Joe. She played our wedding song for us, and played “Mamma” for me to dance my first official dance with seamonkey. The food was delicious and we had a lot of laughs. I really can’t complain about anything.

Except maybe one thing ('cause I'm catty like that): When children are old enough to receive their own invitation, and are even invited with a guest, they should give their own gift. Tagging onto mommy and daddy's card is tacky tacky tacky. It's not about the gift, believe me, it is all going to Seamonkey's college fund anyway. But it should be your own card signed by you (and maybe your tacky girlfriend). We had one family member come with her husband, two 17/19 year old daughters, one with boyfriend in tow (who came late and asked the kitchen to bring out food for them) and from those five people we got one card that contained less than the amount per head for ONE PERSON. Again, it's not the money...it's the disrespect and cheapness that is insulting. But most people were very generous, especially those that have absolutely nothing, and took the time to give inexpensive but meaningful and thoughtful gifts. A small children's bible, a personalized cross nightlight, a silver tone St. Seamonkey medal. These will be treasured mementos of the day.


But that was it. Oh and maybe the fact that BT's nephew brought a girlfriend who wore a white cotton miniskirt and a pink cotton tank top that said "Calvin Klein" across it. Honestly.

Here are the pics you've all been waiting for. Look quick, not sure how long I'm keeping those pics of me up there.



Centerpieces done and ready to go. Handy tip - order the flowers from your local supermarket - we got them for less than $10 a dozen.


Votive favors - Very inexpensive - vellum was like $4, votives were $4 for 6. If anyone wants the template let me know. (Name smudged except for his middle name)

Getting dressed:

Handsome sailor boy:

Okay so.....

I got the dress. But only after I freaked out because it wasn’t waiting for me when I got home. It was a day late. And when DHL came to the house, they gave us the wrong box. After several panicked phone calls, we got the right box. The right very small box. Containing a linen suit. Can you say “wrinkled mess”? I asked BT to take it to the dry cleaners for pressing. Which he did. Before I tried it on. I hope it still looks fabulous in the bigger size.

I got the shoes. But only after I found the perfect pair in the window of a shoe store I passed walking between office buildings, only to be told by the cranky store clerk that they didn’t have my size. I bought them a half a size too small in case I couldn’t find anything else. I called around and found the shoes at another store elsewhere in this city. I left work early during the height of rush hour made my way to the store. I waited for 30 minutes on line to exchange sizes so I missed my train and was late getting home. But I have them and they are cute.

I finished the favors. But only after I had my husband go and buy more vellum. And after I reprinted them all. With the wrong date. Again. So he had to go back and buy more. And we reprinted them, and cut them all out and wrapped all the votives. And then I realized that while I fixed the date on the template, I only fixed the date on the first 5 of the 6 that were on each page. So we had to reprint, cut and wrap every sixth votive. But they are finally done dammit.

I finished the placecards. But only after we put the glue on the vellum and they curled up so badly I had to reprint and recut half of them out again and try a different approach. We were up until midnight, but they're finished.

We pick up the flowers later today and I hope to channel Martha Stewart and make some decent looking arrangements. I am a little worried, as I am not good with flowers. We realized this morning that we have no gifts for the godparents. I sent BT to Tiffany’s to buy some silver shiny things in little blue boxes. I am leaving work in about a half an hour. I hope to finish crocheting his white blanket on the train ride home. I need to get a mani pedi and clean my house. Nothing like cutting it down to the wire.

I know that tomorrow is not really about parties and flowers and placecards. But a mother wants everything perfect for her son’s big day. It’s the day we get all dressed up and present him to God. The God who gave us this beautiful child and made this day possible in the first place. We really are very thankful.

But I still want a very large, cold Vodka Martini waiting for me when I get to the hall.

If I get a decent picture of us, I'll post it for a limited time. Stay tuned.

Not really

Okay we are just not even going to go near the weight loss thing today. I might jinx what may or may not be occurring, so let’s just not even talk about it kay? Besides, I am too stressed out to think about dieting right now – the boy’s Christening is in T-4 days and there is so much to do I can’t even think about it all or my head might explode.

It seems that no matter what BT and I do, the universe is working against us. I swore I was going to spend the entire last weekend shopping for an outfit and buying and assembling centerpieces, favors and placecards. (No, it’s not a big fancy affair, I am just trying to add my special crafty touch to things and as usual I’ve bitten off more than I can chew). I got absolutely nothing done. It seems as though before I knew it I was standing in my pajamas in my bedroom at 11pm on Sunday night thinking “What the hell just happened?”.

I went shopping for an outfit. I went to the big fancy mall around here and tried on every outfit that could even pass for presentable for the most important day in my son’s life. I hated everything (see scale smashing post for a clue as to why). Finally I ended up in Nordstrom’s, a store I usually don’t do well in because of the limited inventory in my *ahem* size. Thereupon I met Gila, the Russian Dress Nazi who said, when I told her of my quest, “Do you have faith? Yes? I get you perfect dress. Come”. I tried on everything she gave me, and together we looked and scratched our chins and decided. Too short. Too busy. Too fancy. Too casual. We were approaching desperation mode when I came to a linen suit thing that I picked up only because I saw a young trendy thing exclaiming how *cute* it was. Yes, but probably not on me. I left it for last. It had white buttons down the front. I hate buttons. I put on the white linen skirt. Hmmm…not bad. Flares out nicely and that embroidery is pretty cool. Let’s try this ugly jacket. Oh hey, it’s fitted. And sucks me in, in all the right places. I open the door for Gila. “Not bad, right?” She raises her eyebrows. “This is the dress”. Yay me!

Only problem is, it was a taaaaaad tight. I needed the next size. Guess what, they didn’t have the next size up. They needed to order it and have it shipped to me. It should be waiting for me at home, so keep your fingers crossed that it still looks fabulous in the next size. So I sort of have a dress but not really.

For the favors, I bought some very inexpensive votive candles and I am wrapping them with some Vellum that has a very cool poem that I stole from somewhere…”God leads the way, day or night, with this candle for you to light. On the flicker of the flame, please say a prayer in Seamonkey’s name” It then has his name and the date of his baptism. Cool, right? Well I needed to make a template for them because the votive is curved and a rectangle doesn’t sit right on it. So I stayed up late designing this template and the font matches the font on our invitations (oh REMIND me to show you the fabulous invitations that Julie made! FABULOUS). I went to the craft store and bought the vellum. I printed them all out. I sit down and start cutting them all out and about halfway through my husband comes in and says “Um…do you know you have the wrong date on these?” I had the wrong date. On all of them. I am an idiot. I had to throw out all the paper. I realized this at 6:30 on Sunday evening. I race to the local craft store before they close at 7. They are out of the Vellum. I want to cry. So I sort have favors but not really.

For the placecards I am just going to print the names and table out on white Vellum and glue it to blue cardstock. I design the template for these and figure out the seating arrangements. We are having about 75 people and that is all immediate family – damn Italians. I ask BT for the seating chart for the hall, a Knight’s of Colombus of which my husband is a member. “What do you mean?” he says. You know, the chart that says where table one is so I can make sure we put the right people near each other and the kids close to the DJ. “Oh. I didn’t get that”. So I sort of have placecards but not really.

The centerpieces are flowers that we ordered really cheap in buckets we got from IKEA. We have to pick them up on Friday and assemble ourselves. So I sort of have centerpieces but not really.

Did I mention I only have four days left? Did I mention that a few obnoxious people still didn’t RSVP and that I don’t have shoes yet?

I sort of think things will be fine, but not really.

Dear New Administrative Assisstant:

In two words: You crazy.

I realize that I inherited you from the person who used to run this department, so it’s not like we exactly picked each other. I also realize that I am not used to having my own admin so all this attention is not something I am altogether comfortable with. I know you are trying to be helpful, but you are making. me. nuts.

I am not a doctor. Therefore, people do not need to make appointments to see me. Nor do they need to go through you to get to me. In fact, most of the time, I can hear them at your desk talking. Then I watch you get up, take 3 steps into my office and announce their presence, and they can clearly hear you. The whole thing is ridiculous. Just let them walk by and stick their head in for goodness sakes!

Your schizo way of addressing me is baffling. One minute you are saying “You so funny girlfriend” and holding out your fist for a pound. The next minute you are speaking like Martha Stewart and calling me Ms. Starfish. Who are you really? Oh, and I think you understood when I corrected you the other day…but under no circumstances are you to ever call me Starry. You should never shorten anyone’s name and put a y on the end unless you are given express written permission to do so.

Charades is not effective. If I am on the phone, please write me a short note and put it in front of me. Dancing and moving your lips is distracting. It took me forever to figure out that you pointing to your ring finger meant that my husband had called.

If you have something to say, spit it out. Using big words are ineffectual if you don’t use them correctly in context. If after you speak, there is prounounced silence and I am blinking at you with my eyebrows scrunched together, it means I don’t have a flipping clue what you are talking about. Have I ever once said “yes” when you say “You see what I’m saying?”.

There is no conspiracy brewing to get my job. Trust me when I tell you that my direct reports have zero chance of getting me fired and taking over. If that were the case, one of them would have been promoted into my position in the first place. So, while I appreciate you tiptoeing into my office and whispering your little tidbits of information about who was seen having a closed door meeting with who, more often than not, I already knew, and it wasn’t for the reasons you think. And if I didn’t, chances are I don’t give a crap. Save the drama for your momma. I’m too busy.

The hugging. Just…..don’t.

If this doesn't work out between us, I can have you go work for my brother. He can't understand why I don't enjoy having someone at my beck and call all day. I warn you though, he told me that he would have you do things like buying a bag of pretzels and then remove the salt on exactly two thirds of them. And then organize his paper clips so they all face the same way. Might still be better than working for me.

I need a vacation from my vacation

No, I haven’t been spending the last two weeks destroying my scale. If it were within the confines of normal behavior, I might still be doing it though. I am reaching rock bottom here with the weight thing. I need to do something. I can’t stand myself anymore. Why can’t I just eat less and exercise more? Why is that so freaking hard? All of the things I wanted to lose weight for are here and I haven’t lost one single pound. I called Jenny yesterday and I had to hang up the phone before I totally lost my shit. Do you know how much that freaking program is??? Are they kidding?? It would cost me thousands of dollars…not hundreds, THOUSANDS. Plural…with an S. What normal person can afford to do that program? Fuckers.

*sigh*

Looks like I am going to have to do this on my own then. FINE. I am cutting WAY DOWN on everything. Last night I had a Lean Cuisine and a salad. This morning I had half a bagel with a little cream cheese. For lunch I had another salad. I am going to start growing long ears and buck teeth over here but whatever. My old high school friend is coming in two weeks and the christening is right after that. Hi everyone! Yep, still fat! Move along, nothing new here …have you held the baby yet?.. divert your attention from my double chins please! ….BLEAH I AM SO DISGUSTED. Whatever.

So I just came back from a semi-vacation in Florida for 10 days, which was the real reason I haven’t been around. It was a disjointed trip spent with some of my family, some of his family, some work stuff and not enough time alone. We started out with a birthday party/family reunion near Orlando that ended up being not as fun as we thought. There’s a reason we don’t see those people very often. Then we went to visit an aunt who recently moved to a retirement community. Wish I could say it was nice, but I don’t know because no one wanted to leave the house. We were stuck in a small house with a baby, my parents and two aunts. They didn’t want to go out to eat. They didn’t want to go to the pool. They wanted to sit around the dining room table and eat leftovers and bullshit all day. We were going batty. Oh and did I mention they didn’t see a need to put the air conditioning on? Oh no, let’s just open up all of these windows and doors…don’t you feel that nice breeze? THERE IS NO FREAKING BREEZE PEOPLE IT’S 85 DEGREES AND I CAN GROW ORCHIDS IN MY ARMPITS. The only good thing about being inside was that we avoided the love bugs that were swarming in record numbers. I left my poor husband to go to a conference for a few days, and I am just thankful he didn’t go postal on my family. He later joined me at the hotel and after my conference was over we drove down to his sister’s condo in Fort Meyers for the last three days of our trip. That too wasn’t as fun as we expected. Seamonkey is in that stage where he just can not sit still, and doesn’t like to be restrained in any way. Those of you with small children know that relaxation is not possible with a mobile little person. I apparently am just learning this. In fact you are probably laughing your ass off at me that I even put “relaxing vacation” and “9 month old” in the same thought. I am an idiot. I know this now.

There were some very good parts of the trip. The second we put seamonkey on the floor at my aunt’s house, he immediately started crawling for the first time! We couldn’t believe it. I suppose one could argue that even he saw the need to escape. He also started clapping. At one point we were out listening to some live music and he was jumping up and down on my knee and clapping. Very hysterical. BT calls it the “golf clap” because it’s very soft. We also discovered his first tooth! He finally cut one on the bottom right side. Explains the extreme crankiness we’ve been experiencing. The work conference was actually very good, especially since we were in an awesome hotel and we got free tickets to Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure. The company that sponsored the trip was very generous with dinners and drinks too. We got a little bit of quality time at our favorite beaches in Naples and Sanibel Island. Not nearly enough, but better than nothing.

You know I have to end with a funny story about my SIL. Not once but TWICE, I caught her referring to herself as “Mommy” when talking to seamonkey. I let it go both times, but the second time she said “Why do I keep saying Mommy?” UM, BECAUSE YOU’RE RETARDED? I mean, it's not like she has young kids that call her mommy on a daily basis. But Karma got her back because in the restaurant someone asked her “Is he your first grandchild?” I had a good laugh at that one.

Got to get to work on the 8 month update I neglected to post. Here are some pics from the trip:

The Tuesday Update

The Tuesday Update will not be posted today – the author of this blog is currently otherwise occupied taking a sledgehammer to her bathroom scale.

The Mother's Day Post

My first Mother's Day. A day I have waited a lifetime for. When discussing the day's plans with my mom last week, I said to her "Whatever you want to do is fine - it's your day". After a brief pause she said "Uh, it's your day too...you're a mother now". It took me a few seconds to comprehend that.

I thought I would spend the day saying “DAMN RIGHT!” every time someone wished me a Happy Mother’s Day. After all, I got to this point, kicking and screaming. Despite uncooperative body parts and slow governmental agencies. I earned this day dammit, and I wanted to go around shoving my beautiful boy in everyone’s face with a “HA! I AM A MOM JUST LIKE YOU TOO SO THERE”.

But I didn’t.

I thought I might spend the entire day being contemplative…reflecting on how lucky I am and how grateful I should be. I wanted to just sit and stare at my son, and think about how on earth anyone thought I was worthy of parenting this perfectly beautiful boy. I wanted to sit in a quiet room and hug him the entire day and have him all to myself.

But I didn’t

I thought that I would at least stay close to home. While I can now enter a baby store without hyperventilating, a little part of me still feels like a fraud. Like even though all the paperwork has been finalized, the world couldn’t possibly really see me as a mother. I wanted to avoid any conversations with strangers that may lead to me having to explain myself.

But I didn’t

I thought that maybe I should boycott the holiday for all the people who are still trying or who have given up the fight. I know the pain that Mother’s Day can bring. It doesn’t seem fair to them to celebrate. I wanted to avoid doing anything that might be the least bit offensive to an infertile, including bringing my child out in public.

But I didn’t

Instead, we got up in the morning and fed, bathed and dressed seamonkey like we do every Sunday morning. We went to BT’s parents and hung around there for half the day, doing the same things we do on every other visit there. (The only difference was that I had to tell my FIL that he wasn’t allowed to hold seamonkey for the day. He’s a total baby hog and never let’s my MIL have him, so I insisted that she have him for the entire day – it mostly worked). Then we went to the mall to exchange some things, and BT let me shop my heart out with no complaints. The shopping Goddesses shone upon me and I was able to find some really nice things for our upcoming trip to Florida (Except shoes – I still need shoes!). Then back to my parents where my brother, who comes over every Sunday and cooks, barbecued up some steaks.

Quite ordinary actually. At a family gathering a while ago, my cousin K was saying how excited she was for me for my upcoming first Mother’s Day. Another cousin (by marriage, and who has two bio kids) said to me “Oh Mother’s Day is just another day for me!” I was horrified. An ordinary day? Do you have any idea what this day represents for me??

But you know what? It was an ordinary day. Okay, it was the best ordinary day I’ve had…well, ever….but still ordinary. And it was just fine and dandy. The best part of the whole thing was getting calls and emails the day before from people who remembered it was my first Mother's Day. It felt like those people really knew what it meant to be a mother, and they acknowledged the hard work it took me to get here.

Hope your day was what you wanted it to be – whatever your mood or circumstances were.

10 Years and we never had a fight....

Yesterday was my 10 year wedding Anniversary! It’s hard to fathom that it’s been that long…harder still to believe we are together 15 years in total. I hardly remember the people we were back then. We have come such a very long way. We struggled a lot in the beginning, although if you ask him, he doesn’t remember that. Which is good I think. We are very different people and living together at first was hard. We still aren’t the best communicators; but we’re still working on that. Through the infertility years he always made it clear that we could stop treatment whenever I wanted, and that adoption was always a good option. The most memorable words he has ever said to me, more meaningful than “I do”, were the words “I love you no matter what” said to me while I was sobbing after another failed cycle.

Having kids doesn’t improve your marriage, we know that, but having gone through this journey together helps us to understand what really matters in life. He is still the nicest person I have ever met, and is my very best friend. He is kind and sensitive and the most amazing dad.

We went to a local pub for dinner with the boy. We were going to do something more fancy, but really all we wanted to do was be together at home.

I’ve been tagged for a meme by Melissa, and since I’ve sort of done it once already, this time I will honor my husband by giving you 8 facts/habits about him.

1. He can be a spokesperson for Honda. He has owned 5 in his lifetime, and even bought a red civic hatchback twice. Who buys the same car twice in a row, let alone a red hatchback??

2. He has this weird habit of running his fingers along the edge of any fabric. He started this as a baby as he ran his fingers along the silky edge of his blanket. Now he does the same thing to every fabric edge – our quilt, the pillow cases, the hem of his shirt, the curtains behind the couch…it’s the funniest thing. Sometimes in bed I’ll feel my blanket being slowly pulled and I’ll have to yell STOP!! He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it half the time.

3. He has a serious addiction to three things: Magazines, grooming products and organization containers. We have an abundance of all of these things in my house and much money is wasted on them. It drives me nuts.

4. He was once a clown in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. He still has the rainbow wig. He still looks like an ass in it.

5. He is enamored with spreadsheets. He loves to put information in them, inventories of things, financial info, planning lists. We constantly make fun of him for it and are always saying things like “Why don’t you go make a spreadsheet of that”.

6. He can’t dance. At all. I mean really really bad. Think Elaine Benes underwater and on crack. If he ever wants to make me laugh, he just has to start dancing. Yesterday morning he was doing a Happy Anniversary dance for me in the hallway while I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. He was trying to do the Q-tip move (rubbing your forefinger and thumb together next to your ear like you’re using a q-tip, alternating between right ear and left ear – go ahead try it, I’ll wait) from the movie Hitch, a scene where Kevin James is showing how bad he dances – BT made Kevin look like Fred Astair. I almost peed my pants.

7. He has worn a goatee for pretty much all of the 15 years I’ve known him. He shaved it off once by surprise and I was so horrified I could barely look at him. I made him grow it back immediately.

8. He can literally fall asleep within 30 seconds. We will barely be under the covers and I’ll start to hear his heavy breathing. Sometimes I have to scrape him off the ceiling when I yell “YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY BE ASLEEP ALREADY”.

The Tuesday Update

Okay, so I have found the time and motivation to write this week. I am feeling a little better because at this mornings weigh-in, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I lost 2.5 pounds! So that’s 3.5 in two weeks. Not earth shattering, but not bad either. Especially since I only got to the beach once this week, so only 4 miles this time. I have tried to pay a little extra attention to portion size this past week, trying to load up on the veggies and limit the starches. This is difficult because apparently my husband was Chinese in a former life, based on the amount of white rice he likes to consume. He also can not be convinced that corn and peas are high in starch, so when he makes them together with the aforementioned rice, (thinking he’s making a square meal) he can’t understand why I am annoyed. I know, I know, be grateful you have a husband that cooks…I’m trying over here.

I have a humongous sweet tooth, and I MUST have something sweet after dinner or I am not very happy. My mom, who we eat with a few days a week (remember my parents live on our street) bakes things out of boredom, and it has been hard to resist her homemade cupcakes and cookies. I’ve been good though, and when she says “Do you want dessert?” I have a hearty NO out of my mouth before she gets up from her chair. That, and a quick exit has helped. To alleviate my craving, I have a bag of milk chocolate chips in the fridge, and I give myself a tiny handful which seems to be doing the trick so far. BT keeps a close eye on me, so I don’t end up emptying the bag in one night. Other oddly satisfying desserts we have recently made are:

1. Graham Cracker Ice Cream Sandwiches – Put fat free C00l Whip in between two low-fat cinnamon graham crackers and freeze. Not a bad substitute for the real thing.

2. Juicy Ice Pops – buy one of the new fancy schmancy organic juice blends out there and make ice pops out of them. We have an ice pop mold that we love. The most recent flavor we made was Pomegranate Blueberry. (Be careful of brain freeze when feeding them to 8 month olds - funny to you, not so funny to them).

So tell me how you’ve been doing towards your health goals. And share a an easy low fat snack or dessert idea if you’ve got one.

Whatever

So much for my promise of Tuesday updates. That’s partly because I barely even lost one freaking pound. Eight miles, people, I walked for EIGHT MILES. *Sigh* Whatever. Don’t try to cheer me up with “at least you didn’t gain”. I am running out of time here folks, summer is fast approaching. I don’t know what the problem is, you would think I eat chocolate cake three times a day. It’s the portion control that kills me I think. I am SO calling Jenny. Did you see that V@lerie Bertine11i lost 10 pounds already?? I’m going to keep trying though, I’m not giving up. I’m just PISSED.

The other part is that I am just too damn busy. Work is insane and free time is spent with the boy. It is so hard to keep blogging. Part of me thinks I should just shut this blog down and move on with life, but I’m not 100% ready to do that yet. I read things in blogland and get myself all riled up and start formulating a post in my head and then days go by before I actually have a chance to respond. When I do get the chance, everything that has been said on the matter has been said. So you’ll just have to trust me when I say I had definite opinions on Imus, V-Tech, A little pregnant and Chew. But it’s all done and gone now and please tell me why bloggers have to get so uppity with each other? Anyway, I digress.

Oh and just so you know, I can’t view blog pictures at work, and some days I can’t even leave a comment. So I mark your blog to read later, and then later turns into 4 days, and you’ve posted 6 more times since then and it’s difficult to catch up. So I’m still reading all of your blogs, trust me. I just can’t comment as often as I’d like. Sorry about that.

Anway, did I mention that we had our first post placement visit a couple of weeks ago? It was totally fine. The woman was only there for about 45 minutes and she asked us some basic questions. I guess I should include them here in case anyone is interested…

How is his health?
What is his current height and weight?
What is his doctor’s name and where are they located?
When was his first doctor’s appointment when you got home?
Can I see the summary of visits and immunizations so far?
What formula is he on?
What is his feeding schedule like?
What is his personality like?
Does he have any developmental delays?
Do you think you have bonded with him?
Do you think he has bonded to you?
What kinds of activities do you do with him?
Who is close by in case of emergency?
How has he changed your life?
How has he affected your relationship as a married couple?
Are you feeling more stressed having a baby to take care of?
Do you need information on resources to help you?
How has your family reacted to him?
May I see his room?

I think that was all the major questions. Let me know if you want to know how we answered any of them. Seamonkey sat quietly in his high chair with some toys the whole time. He was unnaturally quiet and serious, but it seems that she thought it was the appropriate level of stranger anxiety. It was all very pleasant and quick – we had some general conversation about adoption and Colombia and she was on her merry way. We didn’t go crazy cleaning the house or doing any preparation for her visit. We have at least one more visit I think. She suggests that we readopt him here in the US – we don’t have to do that but she thought it wouldn’t hurt. So I need to get information on that. I also have to get him a US birth certificate – no clue how to do that either.

Other than that, things are fine. Seamonkey is doing well – still not quite crawling yet. He’s been very fussy the last few days, and I think maybe he might finally be teething? I don’t know, it seems like we say that every week and still no teeth. This weekend we plan to do some house stuff – planting flowers (impatients Elle, not petunias) and we’re re-doing all the closets in the house. Our current set up is impractical, and I finally convinced BT that he can no longer use seamonkey’s closet. We need the storage room. Especially since I can’t control myself with all the cute summer clothes for the boy. Someone needs to put a limit on the number of bucket hats I can buy this kid. And just for the record….boy clothes selection sucks. If you can wade through all the tulle and flowery fabric to even find the boy’s section – all you’ll find is cargo pants and shirts with bugs on them. Really now.

So I have to start planning the Christening (Julia I have a date but still confirming the time). It’s about time I got my butt in gear. The godparents are going to be my SIL and my brother. I wasn’t thrilled about having my SIL, but I guess I can’t complain because my brother is no Holy Roller himself. My SIL isn’t a practicing Catholic anymore…she attends a Methodist? Lutheran? (not sure) church since she married her latest husband. Technically she can’t be a Godmother, she has to be a Christian Witness (only one Godparent has to be a practicing Catholic – although I realize using the word “practicing” with my brother may not be entirely appropriate). She does have the paperwork indicating she had all her catholic sacraments. I have a feeling that everyone is kind of doing a don’t ask don’t tell thing with our church (BT is handling the paperwork), which if you ask me, is wrong. Trust me, I am well aware of all the nonsense that goes on with the Catholic Church. But I still believe you shouldn’t lie. And I don’t want my son to be part of any kind of lying to the church thank you very much. But what am I supposed to do? At least she does go to church and my brother doesn’t really, so I guess it’s fair. Whatever. It still irks me. Nobody said I was rational.

Because they already all get on my nerves. They love seamonkey to death, they really do. And I am happy that he makes them so happy, and that everyone makes a fuss over him. It is so wonderful that the woman who said “I just wouldn’t have kids” is now the best Grandmother in the world. Even my SIL buys him tons of presents. But every time I go there I get a ginormous headache. They baby talk to him all day long. I LOVE YOU! SEAMONKEEEEEY! HEEEEY! I LOVE YOU! Yelled across the entire table in that singsongy voice OVER and OVER so that you just want to stab yourself in the eye with your fork. So between the yelling, and the baby talk, and the pressure of my tongue on the roof of my mouth to keep me quiet…by the time I leave I need four Advil and a shot of Grey Goose. Tell me it’s normal to feel this way. Tell me that just because I have finally been given a child, that I don’t have to be so over grateful that I can’t bitch about this stuff once in a while.

Oh and last thing – HURRAY FOR MARGARET!!! Finally Finally FINALLY she is going to be a mom!! So incredibly happy for you!!!