This past weekend I was reminded of why I live here. Why I endure freezing winters spent standing on windy snowy train platforms waiting for trains that never come. Why I endure slush, snowplows and high gas bills to heat my house. This weekend was the first real breath of spring, and I spent it at the beach. It was glorious.
I spent most of Saturday harried and aggravated, a result I think, of knowing how beautiful it was outside and being pissed I couldn’t get my butt into gear fast enough. Finally though, seamonkey and I were both napped, dressed and fed and ready to go by 3:00. I went outside with the boy and started packing up the truck for a ride to the beach, planning to walk the boardwalk. Hot and sweaty, I hoped the walk would improve my mood. Just then BT returned home from doing a beach cleanup he organized with his fishing club, and I coerced him into joining us even though he was dead tired. The cool breeze and sunshine revived us both as we drove.
We strapped seamonkey into his big fancy off-road manly man jogging stroller (No sissy strollers for THIS SAHD), loaded it up with water bottles and off we went. Our beach has a wonderful boardwalk that hugs the shoreline, providing a spectacular view of the waves and dunes. The boardwalk is also touted as a “Health Walk” and has markers along the way to tell you how far you’ve gone. From end to end, the walk is exactly 2 miles. In case you can’t do the math – that’s a four mile trek round trip.
Our walk was an exercise in diversity. Old wizened faces and little pink cheeks. Short and fat, tall and thin. Jogging, ambling, strutting. Walkers and strollers, wagons and wheelchairs. Kites and seagulls and perfectly blue cloudless skies. Smelling hotdogs, French fries, tanning lotion and sea water. High heels, running shoes and bare feet. Airing of differences, sharing of problems, fervent gossip, easy laughter, contemplative silence. All of us sharing the same stretch of sunbleached planks. Did I already use the word glorious?
Seamonkey thoroughly enjoyed himself. We took off his shoes and socks, and he babbled merrily as we bobbled along…playing with his toes and graciously accepting any and all compliments from passersby. We stopped along the way to sit him in the sand. He would touch the ground and pull his hand back fast – totally perplexed by this new mysterious substance. We buried his feet and he wiggled his toes to find them again. We can’t wait to bring him here for a proper visit. We came back to the truck after our four miles, glad that we were able to take advantage of the weather.
So what’s with title of my post, you ask? Well I am really trying to lose weight. It seems that we loved the food in Colombia a little too much (empanadas-worth it)…plus all the big holiday dinners when we got home didn’t help. Besides the fact that I just need to look and feel better for the usual reasons, I have a high school friend coming to visit in June, we have an agency social that month, and the 4th of July (beach party) is closing in fast. So yesterday BT had to help a friend with something, so I had seamonkey all to myself again. So back to the beach it was for another four miles.
After the first 2 miles I was feeling so good that I started to do a very slow jog. To keep my motivation up, I would pick a landmark and tell myself I would stop when I got to it. When I got to it, if I still felt okay, I would pick another one farther up. At first I was picking landmarks too far ahead, and the whole time I was running towards it I would think “I’m never going to make it that far” and I would start to get discouraged. But, if I picked something close, I would get there in no time and be on to the next one. I eventually jogged an entire half mile! So I started thinking. I need to lose like 50-60 pounds, but losing even 40 would be huge for me. When I think of that goal (landmark) it seems too far away to be feasible. So I need to pick something closer. Like 10 pounds. When I lose 10, I’ll think about the next 10. So every Tuesday, I’m going to tell you how I’m doing toward my first 10. I weighed myself yesterday, and after I went through all seven stages of grief*, this is the game plan I came up with. Who knows if it will work. Lord knows, I’ve got to do something.
Okay, got to go fill up my water glass again. My tonsils aren’t quite floating yet. Now if I can only get out of this chair without using my ass muscles. They’re freaking killing me. Who knew you had so many muscles in your ass?
*Shock, Denial, Bargaining, Guilt, Anger, Depression, Acceptance
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Ten Pound Tuesday
Friday, April 20, 2007
Water Water Everywhere...
You see, there is only one road into and out of my little neighborhood. That one road runs alongside a canal. So at the highest point of high tide, the canal overflowed and flooded the street. So, since my little Honda Civic doesn’t have a outboard motor, we worked from home that day. The tides did eventually subside some hours later. But with all the train delays, it just wasn’t worth trying to make my way into the office. Besides, I was in my jammies in a warm house with an endless supply of hot coffee with southern pecan coffemate – you couldn’t have pulled me out of there for anything!
That little aforementioned street is at the very north end of my neighborhood. I live on the very south end. South, as in, 8 houses away is the open bay. At the southern most point of my street is a narrow bulkhead with a railing (like you see on dead end streets) and beyond that is good old Atlantic Ocean water. The water came up and over that bulkhead and alllllll the way down the street. See here:
That Honda Pilot on the left is ours, sitting in our driveway. The railing is way down at the end beyond the parked white car. The houses on the right, across the street, are on the canal, so the water overflowed from behind their house as well. Back water met front water, so they were completely surrounded. Yikes! We watched the water creep up our driveway, but luckily it stopped a few feet short (we have a High Ranch so no basement). Of course, Big Tuna gets on his Big Tuna Boots and goes wading out into the middle of it all just because he can. He ends up talking to other neighbor husbands who all have on their manly man boots too. Inside, they are all really just 12 year old who like to splash in puddles, aren’t they?And speaking of water and splashing – seamonkeys lessons aren’t exactly going swimmingly (HA GET IT).The second time we brought him; BT got the not so bright idea to convince my parents to come along. First of all, let’s try to imagine the ridiculousness of four grownups bringing in a 7 month old to watch him be walked up and down the length of a pool shall we? I was mortified. I never want to be one of THOSE parents and here I am doing it. I think having both BT and I there every week is already very silly. Anyway, of course that day he was all off his nap schedule, so he went into it totally over-tired. He did his usual scream thing, and I just kept saying “Don’t worry, he’ll stop soon”. But after saying it 25 times it became clear that stopping wasn’t on the agenda. Making this all the more aggravating, was the fact that my parents were acting as if we had thrown him into a vat of boiling oil. “Wow, he is really crying”. “He really doesn’t like this” “Maybe you should take him out” “Maybe swimming isn’t a good idea” “Starfish, don’t you think he’s had enough?” “Oh my God listen to him cry”. So, Crying Baby+Annoying Parents+Tired after a long day of work + Starving = Complete and utter nervous breakdown. I finally got up (you can watch from a room that overlooks the pool with a one way mirror), went into the pool area, and took seamonkey out after 20 minutes. The ride home was pretty quiet. I believe the only words I said were “You are NEVER allowed to come again”. I think I heard my mom laugh. Sheesh, grandparents. I sure don’t recall my parents going that nutso over ME.
The third time we brought him, we tried to ease him into it. We brought him to the pool area well before his session. We let him get used to the noise, and see the other kids. Alas, as soon as I handed him over to Shawn, he started crying again. Now let me say, that we know his cries. It wasn’t the ‘I’m in excruciating pain cry’ or the ‘something just scared the living shit out of me’ cry…it’s the ‘I am just not happy at all and I must tell everyone around me’ cry. Kind of moany and whiny screaming. If it were the all out red faced can’t catch my breath cry, I would have pulled him out immediately. I’m not a complete barbarian. Partial maybe. So we left him in. After about 10 minutes, BT and I start trading looks, and I start to feel the nervous breakdown feeling creeping back in. So I went to the front desk to talk to them. As soon as I began talking I started getting all choked up, which, if you knew me, is NOT like me at all. I managed to keep my shit together, and I asked the woman “Look, he is still screaming…at what point do we say enough is enough? I feel like we’re torturing him”. From the time I approached the desk, she had a knowing smile on her lips. She patiently let me talk, and then she said very nicely “Okay. Listen to me. “DO NOT PULL HIM OUT. You will be sorry you did. If you can’t watch him cry, then STAY OUT HERE.” She then went on to tell me about all the kids who have cried and proceeded to be awesome swimmers. I was really happy that she told me flat out what I needed to hear. She gave us some other options if we still didn’t feel right about it, like changing instructors, or time of day, or allowing us in the pool before the session to ease the transition…but my gut tells me he’ll be okay – he just needs to get used to it.
So THIS week when we brought him, he cried for 15 minutes and then stopped. And he actually enjoyed himself. In fact, he SWAM. No, seriously! Shawn had him lying in the water, holding him by the armpits and and Holy Crap if this kid wasn’t kicking his legs with a big ol’ smile on his face. *Sigh* I swear. This is why God created Vodka. And is why I just found this:
Monday, April 16, 2007
Monthly Update - 7 Months old
Dearest Seamonkey:
but once you're there, you're not quite sure what to do. You'll rock back and forth a bit, making us think you're about to start moving forward, but alas, you're not quite ready yet it seems. We're trying to keep you on the floor as much as possible to encourage you.
Anytime you see someone you know, you smile a big cheesy grin. If it's someone you really like, like Daddy or Grandpa, you jump up and down and laugh. You have really been cracking up alot lately. One of us will say something that suddenly strikes you as hilarious, and you'll giggle so hard you can't catch your breath. That of course, makes us laugh, and you start laughing at us laughing. It never fails to make tears of laughter stream down my face. 
The Easter Bunny brought you a ton of gifts via your grandparents, aunts and uncles. You even opened it yourself:
We started the day by going to Aunt M's house and having dinner with Daddy's family. You were intrigued by the little dogs and didn't even cry. Afterwards we went to your Great Aunt's house to see my side. I hardly saw you the entire evening, because you were passed around from person to person. You didn't mind one bit. At one point I think I saw you holding a chocolate twizzler in your hand. I knew any attempts to tell my family what you were allowed to eat would be met by yelling and shooing, so I didn't bother. I figured one day wouldn't kill you. By the end of the night, I was handed back an overstimulated, sweaty, sticky, but extremely happy baby. After a good hose down, you slept like a rock.
Almost every day your father and I comment about how blessed we are. We wonder if everyone loves their child this intensely, and if a baby can get bruises from being kissed so much. Your grandma (my mom) went through her old pictures to show us how you look just like me when I was a baby:
What do you think? Same eyes and nose...but maybe all brown eyed brown haired babies look the same. Anyway, we know you were chosen especially for us, no matter what. We love you very much.Sunday, April 15, 2007
The Time Traveler's Wife
As I mentioned in a previous post, I have participated in the latest round of the Barren Bitches Brigade Book Tour. I opted in because I heard alot of good things about this book and was anxious to read it. Each participant has been asked to select three questions from a list and answer them. Below is my review and my answers. Hop along to another stop on this blog tour by visiting the main list here
Spoiler Alert
If you want to read this book but haven't yet, you may want to avoid reading this post.
So on to my review. In a nutshell: This book bugged me. I was excited to read it since it had the sci-fi time traveling thing going on as well as the fact that it was supposed to be a grand love story. Everyone was tellingl me that they read it over and over, and how they cried every time. I gotta tell ya, I just didn't see it. I thought it was a dark depressing story, with desperation as it's main theme. Henry DeTamble was a reckless human being, not only with his own life, but with the life of his wife and future child. Clare Abshire is a lost soul. She starts out that way before she meets Henry, and when he arrives on the scene she is desperate for the attention she couldn't get elsewhere. . Besides the fact that his visits start to border on the inappropriate, his tales of their wonderful future have Clare enraptured. She focuses on nothing else and misses out on a normal childhood and early adulthood...convinced by Henry that their fate is already sealed. Their "real" life together is snippets of sex surrounded by dark periods of oppresive waiting. It's hard to figure out if Clare is really in love or just unnaturally dependent on Henry. The more time she spends with him, the more depressed she becomes. At the end, she is even more lost than she was when she began.
The chapters about infertility are heart wrenching, and I suppose one could argue that they accurately reflect the horrible pain, suffering and desperation that many women go through. As my answers below will indicate, I feel that Clare's intentions are selfish, so much so that she disregards the health of her babies, and they die as they time travel out of her womb. I have a hard time believing that any woman would be that desperate (and stupid).
I don't expect to be in the majority with my views. I know that many people liked it, and if you got something good out of this book, that's great. It was certainly a well crafted story, just not my cup of tea. If you want some serious romantic time traveling story about a woman who can't conceive, go read Outlander. Now that's my cup of tea with milk and honey! (For another fulfilling albeit cheesy experience, go rent Lake House).
Clare endures a lot trying to create a child. She keeps trying, regardless of the fact that she continuously miscarries, continuously wakes up covered in blood, and knows that her child could have the same "problem" as her husband. What drove her to continue down this road and why do you think Henry participated?
Clare was so desperate to have a piece of Henry with her always, that she stopped at nothing to get it. Because Henry came into her life so early and so often, Clare knew nothing else but him. Her whole world revolved around him; her days were either spent with him, or pining away for him until he returned. So it’s no surprise that Clare says “I wanted someone to love who would stay: stay and be there, always. And I wanted Henry to be in this child, so that when he was gone he wouldn’t be entirely gone, there would be a bit of him with me…insurance, in case of fire, flood, act of God.” Which funny enough, she does end up needing in the end. I suppose Henry participated at the time because at that particular moment he hadn’t really known for sure if they could or could not produce a baby. Although he does say “I know, without knowing, that this is very unlikely”. I believe that Clare couldn’t think rationally, or even objectively…so obsessed was she with having Henry, even if it was just a small tie to him. If mothering were her only objective, she could have adopted. But when Henry suggests it she says “But that would be fake. It would be pretending.” Maybe it was at this point that I really started to hate this book.
The present and future intersect frequently in the book. Often the result of these minglings is that information about the future is hinted at or revealed early but the actual experiences cannot be altered or prevented. If you could have known about the struggles you'd face on your path to parenthood, would you have wanted to know? Would you go back and warn or prepare yourself, even though you'd be powerless to change the outcome? Why or why not?
If I couldn’t change the outcome, then I wouldn’t want to know. I remember sitting in my RE’s office after the first failed cycle, having a real conversation after we finished with all the medical talk. I was saying that if someone could just tell me, “Look, this is never going to work so stop wasting your time”, I would have stopped in a heartbeat and went on to adoption. But as we all know, the siren song of IVF is strong. Each new cycle I thought “THIS is the time it’s going to work!”. But eventually we realized that it never would. So, even if I thought I could prepare myself for that awful journey, I don’t think I would have believed myself. I would have tried to change the outcome anyway. Clare is clearly very happy when she learns that eventually she has a baby, although she doesn’t know how many tries it will take. She has one further miscarriage, and there is no discussion of how she felt through it, so it’s unclear if was easier for her to bear than the others. No miscarriage is of course, but perhaps that glimmer of hope gave her the strength to try again.
Due to his ability to time travel and jumps into the future, Henry knows that he is going to die. Yet in the beginning, he works hard to try to create a baby with his wife. This situation obviously benefits Henry in that he gets to parent Alba for a bit before he dies. This situation also benefits Clare since she wants to be a mother. Yet Alba grows up without her father yet with his extraordinary abilities—abilities that were a difficult adjustment for Henry growing up. Do you think he acted in the best interests of his child when he helped create her knowing that he would not be around to help her understand her ability to time travel? Do you think it is truly possible to take the feelings of a child in mind prior to creation as well as fulfill your own need to parent? If you had been in Henry's shoes, would you have created this child knowing she would be able to time travel and you would not be there to help her understand this anomaly?
Throughout this whole story, I couldn’t help but think that Henry was hiding behind his “fate” theory, and engineering all these events out of pure selfishness. Or if not selfishness, his desperation to stay grounded in the present. To begin with, I don’t think he acted in the best interests of Clare. I think he could have withheld his identify from her when he came to her as a young girl. He didn’t have to supply her with the list of dates that caused her to spend her life waiting for their next encounter and essentially stealing her childhood. It was as if he were cementing his future by binding her to him from the very beginning. Although he gets a vasectomy, a time traveling self gets her pregnant anyway. Knowing what he is, and what could happen, he does it anyway. I think it is a necessity to take the feelings (and health!) of a child in mind prior to creation. Your desire to parent a biological child should never supercede their welfare. Even worse if you know you won’t be around to help them.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Random Monday
So seamonkey had his first swimming session. What a hoot. We changed him into his little swim shorts and were hanging around the pool waiting for our time to begin. We met the instructor and handed him over. I was a little disappointed in how they handled the first session – I would have hoped that he would have gotten out of the pool and talked to us first, but we just handed him down into the pool. Made me wonder how they assess the needs of new students. He clearly wasn't expecting a new student, let alone who was 6 months old. It ended up okay though. When we first handed him over the kid (the instructor can't be more than 19 years old) said “Now I’m going to warn you, he’s going to cry”. Uh yeah chief, that’s pretty much a given. And he didn’t just cry, he screamed, and I mean SCREAMED bloody murder for 10 minutes straight. I timed it. During those ten minutes another mother walked by me and said with a scrunchy face “Too young!!” Who asked you and mind your bidness!! But after 10 minutes, he seemed to suddenly realize that he was in one big giant bathtub, and oh hold on here people I LOVE THE BATHTUB. Much splashing and giggling ensued and we breathed a sigh of relief.
Anyway...., I’ve been meaning to tell you about something Melissa over at Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters is doing. She has created an “Emoblopedia” (emotional blog encyclopedia) – which is a big collection of blog posts grouped by category – that deal with all the emotional issues surrounding infertility(and adoption) When you are feeling like you are crazy or alone, you can go to this reference guide and hear from all the folks who’ve been there-done that-bought the t-shirt- and have an opinion on the matter. I think it’s an awesome thing. I have a post or two in there (you just ask Mel to add one of your posts, it’s a snap) and I have already read through some of the amazing entries. Just one of the many great resources from this blog. So check it out. Submit an entry for inclusion. Tell your favorite blog authors which posts you think they should submit (any you think I should submit?). We all know that blogging has gotten us through the worst of times...this is another extension of that. A one-stop shop for your emotional bloggy needs!
And while you're there, check out Melissa's entry in the International Infertility Film Festival.
One last thing - the Feds are proposing a increase on filing fees for our beloved adoption paperwork. Just when you thought it couldn't get any more ridiculous - the rates are going up a whopping 66%. Your beloved I171H will now cost you $670. Carrie was nice enough to post about it, go here for more details. The deadline to make comments is today (Monday the 2nd), so if you have a chance, go tell them how ridiculous it is. This really burns my ass. All day I am exposed to young single mothers that have money practically THROWN at them from the federal government to have and care for their babies. Makes me ill.
Happy Monday.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Not much to say
So today is a "have time but nothing to say" day, but I feel like I need to post something or you'll all desert me. Work is work - no funny stories lately. Although I did see someone on the subway today - a grown woman - wearing an aqua Tinkerbell backpack with the word "Mommy" embroidered across the back. I assume there is a matching one attached to a 5 year old somewhere? Please lady, you shouldn't wear that unless you're with the 5 year old. And even then - it's not as cute as you think it is.
Seamonkey is doing well. He had a little breakdown today - daddy didn't make sure he got his afternoon nap, so he was sleeping at mealtime and I had to wake him up. (Daddy conveniently left for a social engagement) Normally I wouldn't do that, but he didn't have his afternoon bottle either, so if I didn't wake him up there was going to be a 3am screamfest for food, and that can't happen to me on a schoolnight. I tried to get him to ease into being awake and I thought we were clear for a while there, but as soon as I put the bottle in his mouth he freaked out. Nothing I did helped. Held him, put him in the crib, sing, dance, nothing. Scream scream scream. Finally after a good half hour he called himself down and just started smiling and laughing. Psychotic I tell you. It's a good thing he's cute.
Speaking of cute...for some reason this week he found his feet and hands. A little behind at 6 months I think but whatever. I video taped him today holding his hands up in front of his face and moving his fingers and bending his arms, totally fascinated. The video shows him quietly observing, then me laughing, then him laughing at me laughing, then he gets all serious and looks at his hands again...round and round. It was so freaking funny. It was like he was stoned or on acid or something (not that I know about that stuff heh)..I was waiting for him to be like "Duuuuuudddeeee, look at all the coloooorrrrss" in a surfer dude voice or something. He found his feet too, and finds the need to munch them whenever he is on his back now. The verdict? Tasty:
Oh and guess what we did. We signed him up for swimming. I would say "swimming lessons" but I'm not sure there is much in the way of things to teach a 6 month old at this point. But he will now have one on one sessions with an instructor (young college kid) at this place
for a half hour once a week until he's two. No seriously. We paid for enough sessions to get him through the next 15 months. It seems a little much, but really it ended up much cheaper that way, and if we opt out at some point, we only lose our deposit, which isn't much. But in reality I really want to keep him going. He really loves the bathtub. As in, he loves to have water literally dumped on his head, splashes like crazy and hates to come out. So I really want to keep him comfortable in the water. We live near the water, my dad has a boat and my husband surf fishes. It's really important to us that he learns to be comfortable and safe. The place didn't blink an eye about him being so young...in fact they encourage it, since apparently babies have a natural instinct for swimming and it's best to start them as young as possible. And seamonkey seemed fascinated by the place - didn't cry once seeing all those strangers in one place. It's crawling with kids, and check out the mural they have at the pool! I'll let you know how it goes.Happy Monday
Monday, March 19, 2007
You can’t make this stuff up
Its been an interesting few weeks here in starfish world. I thought I would document two of the more interesting happenings:
STORY ONE:
One evening, I left work at my usual time. I took my usual subway train to my usual stop. I proceeded to the usual track, and got on my usual train, three minutes before it’s due to leave at 6:07pm, and sat in my usual seat. I pulled out some knitting and settled into the blind oblivion that is my usual commute home. About 20 minutes later, after pulling out of another stop along the way, I hear the tail end of the automated conductor announcement say “…..the next stop is X Town”. Uh….hold on here. X Town is not on my train line. I look around, and no one else seems to be panicking. I look out the window…hmmm…this doesn’t look familiar. We pull into the next station, and the robotic voice says “This is the train to Yville. The next stop is “Zfield”. OH CRAP. I got on the wrong. freaking. train. Damn track changes. Gather up knitting and make way to the door. I am going to need to get off this eastbound train and take another train back west to the Hub Station so I can get on the right train. Hmmm…some of these stops are really small stations, there might not be a train going back west for some time. Hmmm…which stop to get off? The further east I go the longer it will take me to go back west. Hmmm. Crap. Okay, I’ll get off here.
Hmmm. This station appears to be right in the middle of a residential area. Let’s make our way over to the schedule board. Okay, it’s 6:39 now. The next train back west is….no. Please no. 7:25??? WTF!!!! Okay. Keep it together. Don’t cry. Oh SHIT. I left my blackberry home today in it’s charger. Can’t call home to tell them I’ll be late. Let’s try this pay phone. Doesn’t work. GREAT. Walk all over, up and around and can’t find another pay phone. See a cop car. Excuse me officers, can you tell me if there is a payphone around here? No? Gee thanks, sorry to have disturbed you sitting around BULLSHITTING. Go back up to platform. Sit down. Cry. Knit until the cold makes my fingers numb and it’s too dark to see. Board the 7:25 and get to Hub Station. Go to pay phone. Doesn’t work. *sigh*. Go upstairs and see two payphones. One is occupied. Second doesn’t work. *SIGH* Stand too close to person on occupied phone until he freaks out and gets off. Dial tone. Praise the Lord. Insert two quarters. Hear “50 cents please” Hit coin return with no luck. Operator comes on to tell me I owe 50 cents. I tell her I did. She starts to tell me to call the 1800 number. Completely lose my shit and scream into pay phone using words like “bullshit” and “second freaking time” and “1800 my ass”. Get connected to husband and tell him I’ll be late. Get on correct train and eventually get home. At 9:00pm
STORY TWO:
I am trying to hire a Director for my department. I came across an interesting resume from someone who worked at another company in my industry, who, if not for their very small size, would be considered a competitor. His experience was somewhat related to the position, but he deals more with outside relationships rather than inside, which is what this job requires. I figured maybe he wanted a change or something, so I asked him to come in for an interview. I started out as I usually do, explaining who I am, where this position fits in, and my expectations. This candidate, who I’ll call Joe (because he looked like an ex-boyfriend of mine with the same name) is asking me all kinds of strange detailed questions, and trying to scribble down my answers with the stub of a #2 pencil. Scrunching up his face every time I answer as if I’m speaking Chinese. He then starts to ask me about how often he’ll be dealing with the external clients. “You won’t” I say, “we have another unit that does that – you’ll deal with people internally, help resolve issues and support the people who deal with the external clients.” Another scrunched up face. “Hmmm…” he says as he leans way back in his chair. “I don’t know…Let me ask you your opinion, considering you’re a Vice President and all….If I want to be CEO someday, I’ll probably need this kind of experience?” He waves his hand over the job description to illustrate what he means by “this kind”. “Uhh….yeeeaaah. I don’t think that’s the right reason to take the job” I say. Before I can say anything further, he jumps in with “In any case, you are going to want me to talk to your external customers”. “No,” I reiterate, “I already said, there is no reason for you to talk with them, there is another unit that does that”. “Well, I’ll tell you right now, as soon as they know I work here, they are going to call me directly. They won't bother talking to that unit.” Now it’s my turn to scrunch up my face. “Why would THAT be??” I ask. “Well because I have connections. They know me.” I blink slowly for 10 seconds. Then I laugh. I’ve never laughed in a candidates face before. “Joe, our company is about 10 times bigger than yours. I think we've got a few relationships ourselves”. I got up and told him to show himself out. Did I mention that he looked like an ex-boyfriend? Did I also mention that a recent hire from his company told me the reason he's looking for a job is because he got FIRED from that company? YOU LOSE. GOOD DAY SIR.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Monthly update - Six Months Old
Wow. This is all going really fast. Sometimes I think you are growing right before my eyes. At your last doctor's appointment you weighed 17lbs 10 oz and you grew another inch. You are one solid little boy. I can't imagine how I'm going to hold you when you're two. Sometimes I carry you upside down on my hip and chant "sack of potatoes, sack of potatoes". So far that makes you laugh.
You laugh alot more now. Big hearty giggles that crack us up. Sometimes you laugh when we do certain things, like when I sit you facing me on my lap, hold your hands and flip you slowly backwards. Sometimes you just burst out with a big guffaw for no reason at all. But I swear, there is no better sound I have ever heard in my life.
Conversely, you have started to make the worse sound I have ever heard. It's this whingy whiney groany "eeehhhhhh" sound. So. annoying. We can't figure out why you do it. You seem to be frustrated or uncomfortable or something but we can't figure out why. Please stop. If you continue to do this until and through your toddler years, I will surely go mad. For some reason, the highchair really sets you off. You immediately get fussy when you are put there. Feeding you, particularly in the evenings is really getting to be a chore. If you are really tired, you do the all out, red face, can't hardly catch your breath cry. The second I take you out, you stop. *sigh*. That is so not cool. I only get a few hours with you each night so let's make them good ones, okay? You and I, we're working it out. Slowly. You've begun stage 2 foods, but mostly just the fruits and veggies. You get a few spoons of the meat a day, but we're taking that very slowly. That stuff smells like regurgitated cat food, not sure how you can stand it.
Every day you get better control of your hands. It is amazing to watch you start to really use your fingers. We now have to move most things out of your reach when you are sitting on our laps at the table. You like to grab things and bang them really hard. The louder the noise the better. Grandma thought it was funny until you actually smashed a melanine bowl into many pieces. No more bowls for you. You can grasp a sippy cup really well, and you get the concept that you can drink from it, but we're still working on the concept of tilting the cup upward so you can get to the water.
Another great thing you have started to do, is to put your hands in my hair and pull my face into yours. You put your big wide open mouth on my face. I guess that's your version of a baby kiss? It kinda hurts most of the time because you've got a mean grip, but oh how I love it when you want to be close to me!
Your babbling is different now. Instead of just ooooo and aaaaaa sounds you are actually trying out your tongue and jaw. We now get lots of babababas and yayayayas. When you make those kinds of sounds I get glimpses of what your voice will sound like when you do talk. You also love to do raspberries, although you've been doing that for a while now. Not so cute when you do it with a mouthful of peas. Your face is maturing too...your hair is growing and you're losing some of that "baby look". We are so torn between wanting to see grow and progress and wanting you to stay little just a little longer. These months are flying by.
You sit up very well on your own now and only tip over once in a while.
You like to sit up in the bathtub now, you can get maximum splash factor that way. We've just introduced small toys to you in the tub and you are loving it!
You seem to like tummy time alot better now, although mostly what you do is alternate between pushing yourself up on your arms and laying down and sucking your thumb. Those push ups apparently take alot out of you. We try to put toys in front of you to encourage you to start crawling, but mostly you just get so excited your legs move you backwards. You've got rolling over completely down now. In fact, you can roll from back to front AND front to back. We put you on a quilt on the floor and in no time you've rolled yourself right off of it.
You get up at about 7-7:30 each morning, which is good because I can say goodbye to you right before I leave for work. You do pretty well with your naps. You sleep about an hour in the morning and a good two to three hours in the afternoon. We find that if we put you in the middle of our king size bed for your afternoon nap, and put some classical music on the radio, you sleep pretty long. You still sleep with your hands up...we call it your Victory pose (another good day for seamonkey!)
You take another catnap around 6, and go to bed around 9:30. The absolute best part of my day is having you fall asleep in my arms. I try to really concentrate on that moment, holding you tightly and breathing in your wonderful baby scent. I can't believe you are mine. We love you more every day.
Monday, March 12, 2007
The Not so Lame List
Here is the final list of blog links! Thanks for participating, and sorry I had to resort to name calling, but hey, sometimes ya gotta do whatya gotta do. Remember this was all about supporting each other, so be sure to take some time and check out these great blogs. I've tried to include a little description to guide you; forgive me blog authors if I've got it wrong, sometimes it's hard to figure out.
Worth the Wait (Home with 2 from Russia)
B-Happy (Journey to #3, this time in Ethiopia)
The Chambers Adoption Process (Working on a domestic adoption)
Building a Family (Journey to Ethiopia)
Waiting for Sprout (Journey to China)
A Dad’s Journey through International Adoption (Journey to Russia)
Born in our hearts (Home with one from Russia, one Domestic)
Voice of the Voiceless(Journey to Russia)
Waiting for Brody (Journey to Guatemala)
Mei Mei Journal (Home from China)
My Diary of Triplet Fatherhood (Bio Triplets)
Waiting for Sophie (Home from China, Journey to Guatemala)
Anti-racist Parent (Joint blog)
Olive You (Journey to Russia)
Perky’s Perspective (Home with 2 from Russia)
Guatemalan Sisters (Home with 2 from Guatemala)
Two Moms Adopting (Home with one Domestic)
Family Found (Home with one from Ethiopa)
Praying them Home (3 bio, journey to Guatemala and Haiti)
2 more to love (2 bio, 2 twins from Vietnam)
“For I know the plans….” (Journey to Colombia)
Metrodad (1 bio)
Snips, Snails & Pigtails (3 bio, 1 domestic)
Looking for Grace( 4 bio, 1 on the way from Russia)
Karen Road Chronicles (2 bio)
And speaking of great blogs, I'm a big fan of Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters these days. What a great resource and support community for infertiles of every circumstance (still trying, adoptive parents, child free). I've decided to join the Barren Bitches Book Brigade this go round, so look for my opinion on "The Time Traveler's Wife" in the coming weeks.
Off to sleep - this DST bullshit really screwed me up. People, I NEED my sleep. Between the loss of my precious much needed additional hour and the fact that my Microsoft Outlook Calendar has half of my meetings scheduled at the wrong time, I'm about to lose my mind. Only half though, so I don't really know for sure which ones are wrong. Seems like I just wander from conference room to conference room saying "are we meeting? now? oh ok, I'll come back". Stupid government. Stupid Microsoft. Stupid meetings.
*sigh* and it's only Monday.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
On prayer...
As we all know, when you go through something big, like say, infertility or the adoption process, you tend to think about God more than usual. I know it from experience, and I see it in the blogs I read every day.
Of particular interest is when bloggers ask readers to pray that some piece of paperwork gets there, or gets signed, or is overlooked…. or that some particularly nail-biting part of the process happens in our favor, quickly and without too much suffering. And when I read those words “pray for us” or “keep us in your prayers” - I always scrunch up my face and think “Don’t you know it doesn’t work like that?” I mean, really, if all it took was to just ASK God for something, wouldn’t we all be home with children by now, most by an uncomplicated pain-free natural birth? (And wouldn’t I be wearing size 4 jeans?) More mystifying yet is that we think that if A LOT of people ask ALL AT ONCE then God can’t help but listen? Do we really think that the Almighty can be swayed like that? Interesting concept, but I don’t think so. He’s much too smart for that.
When I went through my infertility treatments, I prayed a lot. Please God, I want this so badly, not just for myself, but for my husband and our families. Please God, I’ll be a good mother, you know I will. During our final treatment, I wore religious medals of Saint Gerard and the Virgin Mary. I said a novena specific to for those wishing to conceive. I visited a church near work and kneeled and prayed to Mary. Despite all that we got bad news yet again. Even though I knew in my heart it didn’t work that way. Silly rabbit, miracles are for kids.
So I don’t pray much anymore, not in the traditional sense anyway. If that sounds blasphemous, I don’t mean it that way. While I don’t go to church all that often, I do very much believe in God. We’ve settled our differences for the time being – as I’ve said before, I could hardly argue with the Guy who made it possible for Seamonkey to be sleeping in the crib in the former guest bedroom…. But basically, I’m like - if all this is up to him, what am I asking for? What’s the point? It even kind of bugs me now when people “waste” prayers on trivial things. As if praying about getting the nurse at your doctor’s office to notarize your letter by 4:00 somehow makes a difference. Maybe it’s a case of, “it didn’t work for me, so why should it work for you?”. Yeah that’s probably it. Well, I guess the bitterness of barrenness has never really left me, huh? Tell me something I didn’t know.
Anyway, I approach the whole God thing a little differently these days. I acknowledge Him in little odd moments –not sure how to explain that exactly – but I recognize His presence and acknowledge His hand in things. Like on a particularly beautiful sunny day at the beach, after a fun day laughing my guts out with cousins, or when my new son has fallen asleep in my arms. During those dark moments too – when someone has died or fallen ill, or when the news tells you nine more soldiers died today. I try to remember to say thank you for the good stuff, and for the bad stuff I pray for the strength to deal with whatever happens – whether it’s for me or someone else. It may not be enough, and I may have this all wrong, but it’s the best way I know to understand and cope with the unfair randomness of life.
So when you’re asking me to pray that your application gets approved or your pee stick turns the right shade of pink, know that what you’re really getting from me is my wish that you can handle the results whatever they turn out to be. But ‘crossing my fingers’? That I can do for you, sure. Toes too, no extra charge.
Friday, March 02, 2007
You guys are so lame
Come on people, where is the love?
Thirteen of you commented on my last post, but only 7 people left blogs to share!
What the hell?
I know you're out there. I average over 100 hits a day, 200 after I post something new. Amazed? So am I! So, I am mystified as to why there is a lack of participation (and why I never seem to get too many comments). This is fun dammit! We all need to encourage each other to keep blogging - and the best way to do that is to let each other know that we actually READ what we WRITE.
Leave me a blog link or I will hunt you down and force you to watch my home movies. And lurkers...FINE YOU WIN. Just cut and paste a link in the comments, you don't have to say anything else!!!
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Happy Blogiversary to Me!
I can't believe it's been a whole year.
This time last year I decided to blog because we were officially starting the adoption process. Our lives had finally taken a positive turn, and there was hope for a family on the horizon. We were still undergoing infertility treatments, but somehow in our hearts we knew adoption was how we would finally realize our dream. Boy did we ever hit the jackpot. Seamonkey is all we dreamed of and more.
Jill was the first person to comment on my brand spanking new blog. She said: "congrats - we are also in the beginning steps - just did my I600A last week... looking forward to going on our journeys together!" And I'm happy to say we did just that - both of us did eventually get the elusive I600A, are now home with our beautiful new baby boys. We still keep in touch and I suppose we'll need each other's support more than ever now!. Perhaps some day we'll be able to do a play date, girl. You know, the kind where you and me go have a drink downtown and leave the kids with their dads? Yeah, that kind!
Blogging has been such a wonderful outlet for me. As I know it is with many of you, it is a way for me to process my thoughts...to vent to people who really understand me. It is amazing to get support from people who you've never met. Sometimes just getting a response or two telling me I'm not nuts was enough to get me through a particularly bad day. I thank you all for that...from those of you who have read this blog from the beginning, to the occaisonal commenters who chimed in when they had something useful to say, to the diehard lurkers - who even though I could never coerce them to comment, kept my stats up which encouraged me to keep posting.
So in honor of my blogiversary and of the support of cyber strangers everywhere, let's try a little something different, kay? Wanna?
Go right now and find another adoption or infertility blog out there that you've never read before (and preferably not one already on my blogroll). Easy enough to do, just do a little link hopping...click on a blog from my blogroll (over there on the sidebar ---- >) then click on a blog from their blogroll, then a blog from their blogroll, and so on and so on...keep going until you get at least six degrees of separation or so (I'm channeling Kevin Bacon here). Post the link in my comments and I'll update this entry with a list of some new blogs for us all to check out. Try to choose a blog you wouldn't normally gravitate to (like a different country/program) so we get some good diversity in the list.
If you'd like to have an alcoholic beverage to celebrate, I'll leave that up to you. But if you really want to honor me, make it cold and put alot of vodka in it
So leave a link, say hello, and if you want to say something nice about me and my blog, well that would be just fine too. Make me feel good and let's see how long we can make this list. And you lurkers - let's hear from you too, huh?
*UPDATE*
Here's what we've got so far! Give these bloggers a visit, and spread the support and bloggy love!!
Worth the Wait
B-Happy
The Chambers Adoption Process
Building a Family
Waiting for Sprout
A Dad’s Journey through International Adoption
Born in our hearts
Voice of the Voiceless
Karen Road Chronicles
Waiting for Brody
Mei Mei Journal
My Diary of Triplet Fatherhood
Waiting for Sophie
Anti-racist Parent
Olive You
Perky’s Perspective
Guatemalan Sisters
Two Moms Adopting
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Monthly Update - Five months old
Dear Seamonkey:
Holy cow how time flies! We can't believe how quickly you are growing from a baby into a little boy. Thankfully you still have your good natured personality. You still start every day with a smile. I took this picture of you this morning, after I heard you talking to yourself in your crib:
It seems that at first you babble on to yourself for your own entertainment, then it gets louder and louder, signaling to us that you've had enough and are ready to get up. Bath time continues to be hilarious, and I'm secretly hoping that maybe there's a swimming scholarship in there somewhere for you. You are on solid foods now, and there really isn't anything you won't eat. You even like peas! You do seem partial to sweet potatoes and pears though. We found a new treat you love - mangoes! We put it in the little net thingie for you to hold and you mash that sucker flat in no time! Of course afterwards you need a hose down.
You are getting very fussy with your bottle, and seem to want it less and less now. We know you've had enough when you start babbling and playing with your tongue and getting milk everywhere. So, we decided to see how you would like a cup:
You love it! Now you pull at the glass anytime we are drinking something. Of course, you do get quite soaked but you thoroughly enjoy it. We are working on your sippy cup skills so that you can hold it and drink yourself. You do better each time...you get better control of your hands every day. Getting control of your legs is a different story. You kick your legs around all the time. If we put a motor on you, you'd be off like a flash. We try tummy time with you, but you're not a big fan. We keep trying anyway! You are almost ready to turn over:
You get most of the way over, but then decide it's too much trouble and roll back. Any day now you'll make that last little push!
You are fascinated with our cats. You squeal with delight anytime either one comes into sight. Lucy pretty much ignores you, but Willow is just as fascinated with you as you are of her. She sits right next to you and lets you touch her. When you are playing, she comes right over to see what all the fuss is about. Of course, we're very watchful when they are near, although we are very confident that they will not hurt you.
The family continues to adore you. You visit your dad's parents every Monday and they love you to death. Although Grandpa G is a complete baby hog. He likes to hold you in his rocking chair and doesn't like to give him up to anyone else. You are very relaxed with him and sometimes fall asleep on his lap. Uncle M is chomping at the bit to buy you tons of sports equipment. For now he's bought you your first Mets hat:
My mom is a typical grandma to you. She sneaks you treats when she thinks I'm not looking. She gave you a lollipop for Valentine's Day which you loved. You held it yourself in front of your mouth and kept sticking out your tonuge and lapping at it like a dog. We only let you have a few licks - we know grandma is crazy. You have a fascination with my dad. Grandpa N can get you to smile when no one else can. He's like your own personal clown. You get so excited when he's around you start jumping up and down. Speaking of jumping up and down, you love your jumperoo! 
You can be in that thing for hours and sometimes you exhaust yourself so much you fall asleep standing in it! It is hilarious to watch you jump and shriek and squeal. You seem to really like music. For some reason, anytime SpongeBob comes on, you stop dead in your tracks and stare at the tv, loving the theme song. Sometimes, if you are crying, we can get you to stop by singing "oooooohhhhh, who lives in a pineapple under the sea..." We also put children's music on for you and you listen very intently. You are partial to the Little Bunny Foo Foo song, especially when I do the hand movements for you.
You are definitely getting more fussy as your personality develops. Sometimes you'll start crying for what seems like no reason, and it is difficult to calm you down. It only lasts a short while, so we're not sure if you're starting to teethe, or are just releasing some pent up energy or what. It's okay though, we know it's part of growing up.
I have gone back to work and you are doing well being home with daddy. Dad can't wait for the weather to get warm so he can start taking walks with you and doing manly things. I can't wait to get home each day so I can squeeze you. When I first get home, you stare at me for a good long while as if to say "Hey, I know you...where've you been all day?" But thankfully you remember me pretty quickly, you let me feed you, play with you and put you to bed. Weekends are spent running around town, mostly to Target to buy you more diapers and more formula. You don't mind being in the stroller, but you are very quiet the whole time. Taking it all in I suppose. Oh but you definitely don't like putting your coat and hat on or off. That's always fun.
We can't believe that you will soon be six months old. We can't wait to see what you learn to do next. You continue to be the joy of our lives..we love you very much.
A little follow up
The "issue" if there is one, is really about how he and I are settling into this new routine. What I am learning, is that there is some truth to the fact that there is never really a complete role reversal. Women, being women, just naturally do a little more than their share. Somteimes that pisses me off, and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes, after coming home from a long day, I am disheartened to see the house a mess. This morning, I know I will have to spend a few hours getting things cleaned up or I'll go mad. Again, I don't think he's lazy or doing it intentionally...I think he just has to realize that this is part of the job.
The other part of this is communication. Trying to get my thoughts and feelings across without making him feel inferior, which displays itself as anger. I don't think he realized he would feel this way sometimes, but I know he does. And no offense to you stay at home moms out there, but it is a very different situation. I thought it would be similar, but I realize it isn't at all. I would guess that many of your working husbands don't complain much about cleaning because 1) they don't care so much 2) you would never leave such a mess. This is my biggest challenge so far. I've been able to say things like "Can you do me a favor and clean the bathroom today" and refrain from saying "or else things will start growing out of the toilet". And I know I have to realize, as Del aptly put it, "sometimes men don't see the same piles/messes we see" and girl, ain't it the truth! So I'll let you know how it goes as we progress here.
Anyway...I got another great little giftie from my secret pal:
It is a hilarious card and book. The front of the card says "Stuff that gets on my nerves more than it should: Slow people at the salad bar. The inside shows a the same slow woman with the beejezus scared out of her because someone shouted HOLY CRAP IT'S NOT A DECORATING CONTEST! I tell ya SBP, I laughed at loud at that one, and maybe because I may have on some occasion uttered those exact words. The book is entitled "Women of Substance - A Collection of Estrogen-Rich Cartoons by Revilo. Hilarious cartoons about being a woman. I've cut a few out already! Whoever you are, you get me! Thanks very much!
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
White or Whole Wheat?
I’m not really surprised that I’m the breadwinner. If you told me that I’d end up this way back when I was in college, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. I've always been the ambitious sort. It's my creative mind and inquisitive nature that makes figuring things out and solving problems a welcome challenge. So with any job I've had, I get very passionate about doing things accurately and efficiently. My type A personality gets people to listen to me and take me seriously, so I am able to lead projects and people pretty well. And all that naturally makes bosses happy. And we all know what happens when you do a good job - you get more work. No good deed goes unpunished as it were. So I've been able to make my way up the corporate ladder kind of by default. Before I knew it, I was on a pretty high rung and lo and behold what started out as a job has become a career.
BT on the other hand, has never really been interested in a career. He had a very good job before Seamonkey came along, but he was never looking to build any empires. He was satisfied to never have to manage anyone, and was never interested in climbing up the corporate ladder even if it meant more prestige or more money. One might think I would be turned off by his lack of ambition, but weirdly enough he is a nice ying to my yang. He keeps me grounded and makes sure I do fun stuff too. He is also more of a nurturer than I am. He loves to cook big elaborate meals, preferably something he’s never tried before, and serve them to family and friends. He likes things clean and orderly (and may have an unnatural addiction to cleaning products and organizer bins). He is kind and extremely sensitive, and genuinely the most considerate person I know (how on earth he ever married me will always be a mystery (even he doesn’t know) but that’s fodder for another post). In any case, he clearly makes the better stay at home parent, and I am clearly more suited to working. That, and my paycheck was (much) bigger. So here we are.
I’ve been back to work for three weeks now. So far, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything at home. Seamonkey pretty much eats and sleeps all day, with a little play time thrown in. He hasn’t done anything monumental in my absence. I don’t totally resent BT being home at this point. He is often up and awake before I am. He warms up my car and makes my lunch, and reminds me of anything important I need to know for the day. Other than maybe some mismatched outfits, he does a purty darned good job of taking care of the boy. He also makes sure I get plenty of bonding time with the boy when I get home.
It’s always interesting when people ask me who is taking care of the baby while I’m at work. Depending upon the gender and age of the person, I get a whole range of reactions. Interestingly enough, the Fish just returned from maternity leave. She has a decently prominent position here, and I would guess that her salary is relatively close to mine (I hope not too close, but whatever). I haven’t met her husband but from what I hear he is also at a similar level. She has hired a nanny so that both of them can return to work. She asked me if I’d hired someone yet. Laughing, I said, “Yes, my husband”. Instead of calling me crazy in her snide back handed condescending way as I expected, she was actually trying to justify herself to me. I thought that was funny. So I just sat there and smirked at her and watched her squirm. (there I go, being all nasty and RUDE again – bring it, trolls). Truthfully, I could care less about her choices. Though I may not agree with her situation (I’m pretty sure they both don’t HAVE to work and her back peddling kind of confirms that), it’s her business, not mine.
I have been recently trying to connect with other Breadwinning moms. Other than my new friend Margie P, I haven’t found too many out there. I’ve done some internet research on the whole woman breadwinner thing, but all I find is a lot of crap. There are a lot of useless surveys and studies out there that overthink this concept to death. I wasn’t sure what to make of this article – I think it’s saying that most women who think they are breadwinners really aren’t, because either (1) it’s just temporary so don’t go having any sense of accomplishment, if your husband wasn’t such a failure you wouldn’t be in this position, and once he gets his act together you’ll be back to being inferior (2) good news – your husband thinks you’re his equal – bad news – equal means you have to do your share of housecleaning and child rearing while working full time or (3) you do have the gender role reversal thing going full force, but that not only makes you a radical feminist, the number of you out there are too statistically insignificant to matter to anyone. A better article is this one, and kind of sums up what I’ve been feeling as of late.
We are still finding our way with a routine, and with expectations of each other during this new phase of our lives. I find myself walking on eggshells if something is bothering me about what he’s done (or not done) at home. I would imagine it’s hard enough for a man to be in this situation. Although he is happy with our arrangement, it still isn’t a widely accepted practice, (especially with other men!) and I don’t want to ever insult him or make him feel inferior. It’s something I’ve always had difficulty balancing, now made worse by the necessity of the role reversal. I know he is generally proud of me but sometimes I’m a little too much for him. There have been times when I have expressed a particularly feminist opinion and he retorts “I am woman hear me roar” accompanied by a nice big eye roll. However, I feel like I need to (and should) say something if I’m not happy, otherwise it will just build up and I’ll eventually explode. I would just like to see more things being done over the course of the week so that our weekend time can be focused on family time. It’s stupid little things, like mail piles, and laundry baskets, and closet space and other things that in the scheme of things mean absolutely nothing. I try to ask myself if my expectations are unreasonable, but at this point, with seamonkey being so little and mostly stationary, I don’t think so. I’m thinking now is the time, because he is so little, and the weather is so cold, that more time could be spent getting bigger projects out of the way so when it gets warmer and the baby is more interactive, he can go out and do manly stuff with him all day long. It’s not like I’m totally unwilling to help either. I will gladly work together with him, but every weekend we are off doing something or other so there usually isn’t time. I don’t think BT is lazy or inconsiderate…I just, well, I don’t know what the issue is really. I guess the day can just get away from you. *Sigh* just venting I guess. Not complaining…we have things really good, and we are very lucky that one of us can stay home.
So give me some hope here… I’d be interested in knowing how you other SAH households have adjusted. Did you just naturally fall into a rhythm of who would do what, or was it somewhat difficult to come to agreement on things?
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
So how is it?
That is the number one question I get asked about being a new mom.
My standard short response is “Awesome”. At this point, the conversation can go one of several ways:
1. The person (woman) says “great” and walks away.
Translation: Screw you my kids were/are nightmares and I don’t want to hear happy stories.
2. The person (man) says “great” and walks away.
Translation: This is woman talk and I will not participate lest it morph into discussions of menstrual cramps and brownie recipes.
3. The person says “Yes, isn’t it?! Do you have pictures?”
Translation: I have no kids so I have no clue but I think other people’s are real cute as long as I don’t have to hold them for too long.
4. The person says “I know! My little Billy is so amazing! He can roll over already and he’s only 3 months old! He can speak two languages and likes to eat mangoes and he just makes the cutest little face when you read him poetry and blah blah yada yada blabber blabber .. Translation: Somebody get me a life.
5. The person says “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you. What’s his name?”
Translation: I am a normal human being with relatively well-adjusted kids of my own, we don’t need to talk endlessly about our kids, tell me his name and I’ll ask about him from time to time.
Needless to say, I try to surround myself with a lot of #5’s.
I also get asked “Getting any sleep?” accompanied by a smug know-it-all-grin. I hate to break it to y’all, but yes, I am. The boy sleeps all night, every night, pretty faithfully since we’ve had him. And if this discontinues because everyone keeps making me say that out loud thereby pissing off all the Gods of Baby Sleep, then I will very angry. And tired. And very. Very. cranky. Don’t make me go there.
In other ranting, what is up with people and baby gifts? It's not the ugly clothes that get me, or even the cheap stuff. I understand that not everyone has good taste or alot of money, and in general I truly appreciate any acknowledgement of the boy's arrival. It's just that I don't get what some people are thinking when they give gifts. Why don't people always include gift receipts?? I have a ton of stuff that totally doesn't fit him or is well, okay, too ugly for my tastes and now I don't know what to do with them. And people, please consider his general SIZE. I can pretty much guarantee he won't be wearing that adorable fuzzy bear snow outfit with cute little ears on the hood in MAY because you bought a size 9 MONTHS. Of course my SIL pulled this classic move -when we first came home, she told us over and over how she bought an adorable outfit with a snowman on it, but she thinks it's too big because it's size 9 months (he was 4 months at the time). Despite my repeated replies, that YES it's too big and NO he won't be able to wear it, she gave it to us anyway, and so far she hasn't produced a receipt, so it's still sitting in a bag in our living room. Don't even get me started on her...okay wait just one more story...
We told everyone that we did NOT want a packnplay - we didn't think it was necessary given our particular lifestyle - but we registered for a very small one anyway, as people were complaining there weren't enough items on my registry (our families are very big). I was very particular about it, because most of them are too big and have too many unnecessary fancy thingamabobs attached. If I had to have one, I wanted small, simple and plain. I was also thinking that if we didn't get it as a gift we wouldn't buy one at all. So, needless to say, on Christmas SIL gets us a different PNP than the one we registered for (actually it was supposedly from my niece but it was clear who's idea the whole thing was), and while we were very appreciative, we said very nicely that we weren't sure if we were going to even have one at all. No problem she said, you can always use the money at BRU and get something you do want. Because the box is big, we left it at our in-laws house. The next week when we are there, lo and behold the thing is out of the box and all set up. SIL insisted that we just see what it looked like set up, as if the picture on the box weren't enough, or as if I'm too stupid to be able to visualize. She felt that we should keep it at my MILs house for when we are there, or if he stays over. First, seamonkey will NEVER be staying over night there. My in-laws, while they are the most wonderful and loving people ever, they are in their late 70's and are too old to babysit a small child. They both have a variety of ailments that would make it very difficult for them (my FIL is in denial but my MIL knows she couldn't do it and I would never put her under that kind of pressure). Second, my in- laws have a TINY little cape and the thing now takes over half of their living room. But, SIL has forced it upon everyone and now there it sits. So ridiculous.
Okay. That's enough. I'm trying to be nice now that I'm a mom and have to set a good example. Did I mention that the way she talks baby talk to him gets on my nerves too? Please woman, stop with the "blankie" and "ba ba". He's a genius and he's going to Harvard, so let's act accordingly. Okay enough. Really.
Thanks for all the kind words on my last post. I know it was shameless self promotion - but we all need compliments once in a while, even if we have to fish for them ourselves. If I had my way, I would win Megamillions and be able to quit my job and pursue my arts and craftiness full time. However, Pampers and Similac ain't cheap, so I have to settle for having it as a hobby. I do have plans to make some decorative things (picture frames, treasure boxes) and sell them online somehow, so keep an eye out for that at some point. Of course, I do all this stuff free for family and friends, and despite how busy I am, if anyone asks I rarely say no. I'm in it for the craft not the money.
Lastly, a big THANK YOU to my secret pal! Sorry I'm so late with this acknowledgement (I am the worst with timely thank yous) I have no excuse. But a few weeks ago I came home to a little box that was chock full of CHOCOLATE! Hello? Could you have gotten me a better gift? You rock whoever you are!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
JardÃn de Los Pulpos
So here's what I 've been doing when I haven't been working, or spending time with the Seamonkey. I warn you, if you are one who doesn't like themed baby rooms, look away now, lest your retinas get scorched out of your head. Don't say I didn't warn you.
As you will see, the theme is "Octopus' Garden". All murals done by yours truly. Bedding is the sea creatures stuff from BRU, some of it modified - dust ruffle is now little curtains for the changing table shelves, the tab valences were modified to better fit the windows.
My favorite thing in the room is the Octopus Chair from Babystyle.
I still need to finish the curtain for this window and fix this valence. Notice the top of his dresser has "vintage" toys. These toys, including the Fisher Price corn popper, medical kit, stack rings, xylophone, and phone. All of these were actually mine when I was little. An older cousin, who inherited them for her kids, gave them back to me at my shower. I can't wait for Seamonkey to play with them - and I've promised to hand them down to another family member when he out grows them!
Main mural above his crib. The flag has his name on it.
Fish & seahorse, images from the bedding.
Closet wall, blank space is for a picture frame.
I think the boy likes it!
Monday, February 05, 2007
The Nightmare Express
Hey - long time no post, I know. Thinks are fine here at Chez Starfish, although very busy. I have several thoughtful and witty posts in the making, and I hope to share them with you very soon. In the meantime, I give you the following post, written on my blackberry last Friday evening:
As I write this I am sitting on commuter train. A normal occurrence at this time of day (the 6:07 eastbound that usually arrives at my station at 6:50) except for the fact that we are not moving currently and it doesn't look like we will be any time soon. It seems as though there is a train 5 trains ahead of us that has a downed power line on top of it. We were moving rather slowly for a good while, but now are stopped dead between stations. It is now 7:20.
I've tried to read my book, but I am entirely distracted by the social experiment unfolding before me. Anyone want to guess how long it takes before a group of about 75 confined adults start collectively flipping out? Anyone? Beuller? Answer: about 23 Minutes. Here is a little of what is currently going on around me:
Update 7:26
Each time an announcement is made (of the may-I-have-your-attention-we-have-no-further-information variety) it is preceded by several pleasant tones to alert all the friendly passengers that a Message is coming forthwith. Somehow people can't seem to grasp this concept so each time the tones sound it is followed by a full 30 seconds of SHHHHHing that prevents us from hearing that they don't know anything.
After said announcement everyone immediately gets on their cell phone to tell one or more (usually more) loved ones that no, we haven't moved yet and no we don't know when we will move.
Update 7:42
They are trying to figure out if they can restore third rail power and if so determine which direction we'll move - east toward home or west back to a hub station. Please stand by.
There is a woman to my left who has the most annoying voice on the planet (think Janice from Friends) who doesn't know the appropriate decibel level in which to converse on a cell phone. She is alternately talking to two children and a husband so with every announecement I have to hear the same thing repeated loudly three times. It is apparently also her birthday. While I can sympathize with spending your birthday in a hot stuffy train car on a rainy friday night (did I mention its pouring out?) I wish she would stop telling her family over and over that she has decided to reschedule it for another day. It sucks. We get it. She is also apparently an engineer, because she knows exactly what the railroad folks shjould be doing to rectify the situation (I just sneezed and she said God Bless you - thank you but you're still annoying). Lots of "Why can't they just do X? Or Y? They should just Z and get us out of here already. Why don't they have procedures in place?" THERE IS NO POWER LADY. Let them take all the time they need to make sure I don't get electrocuted when I finally get out of this crazy tin can.
Update 7:55
There are lights on in the train but no air blowing. It is getting pretty stifling in here from all the body heat. The woman to my right just busted out a bag of doritos. At first I was jealous because its late and I am hungry. However after smelling her warm dorito breath for the last 5 minutes I want to gag.
Update 7:57
They just announced that passengers need to stay on the train. Apparently some have managed to escape (I guess from the gap between train cars). They are now walking on the tracks where they are trying to restore power to the THIRD RAIL. Now I don't know if it was just done in our part of the country but I distinctly remember seeing the This-is-what-happens-when-you-mess-with-trains video in school, complete with fried body parts. Why would you be stupid enough to step out on the tracks? And did I mention that it is pouring out? Electricity, water? Hello? We are now waiting for the police to come and get these morons (termed "self evacuees") and hopefully use them to test the successfulness of powering up that rail they know so little about. They will not proceed with attempting to get the power up until the idiots can all be rounded up.
Update 8:06
We are assured the police are on the scene now. We can't see any police out of the fogged up windows but we did just see one of those rogue passengers walk by on a cell phone. Not sure where he thinks he's going. I don't know that there is any outlet on this raised track between our train and the one stuck behind us. I hope he's calling his lawyer.
Update 8:08
Thank God for blackberries, at least it gives me something to do. After having enough of Mrs Annoying and her incessant complaining, I finally said out loud "I don't know what you expect them to do with NO POWER". She's been keeping pretty quiet since then, although she's now talking to her seatmate non-stop and I'm pretty sure her ear is hanging on by a mere thread.
Update 8:10
They may get a diesel train to come along side us and do an evacuation. Unclear what that means. Where will the diesel train evacuate us to? And will the train pick up the passengers from all 6 dead trains? I am starving now. I have resorted to rifling through my bag for bits of breath mints that may be lingering at the bottom. No luck yet.
Update 8:21
They think that all morons have been executed dealt with. They may proceed with "re-electrification". I also have to pee.
Update 8:31
Moron roundup mostly confirmed. They will proceed with "re-energizing". Once it is confirmed that power did come on (and no morons were fried in the process) we will proceed with plans to maybe go back the way we came. My stomach is growling audibly.
Update 8:48
Like Bruce Almighty, we got the power. Air and lights on, at least I can breathe. We should be going back west soon, they think. They may make an interim stop somewhere between here and the hub station. And my dad will try and pick me up. Interim station is located in ghetto-like neighborhood and father has tendecies to get seriously lost so not sure if waiting there for him is the best idea. But I need to get off. This. Train.
Update 8:54
Moving west at a "reduced speed for safety reasons".
Update 9:14
Off the traion at interim station. Standing on the sidewalk on busy urban sreet. I've got the fresh air I craved but now I'm freezing. Its windy and rainy - me and a bunch of about 20 random people are huddled under the train tressel trying to stay dry - both from the rain and from the passing cars going through puddles. I want my mommy. Now I really have to pee. I'm about to start the peepee dance. A phone call to dad indicates he's about 10 minutes away.
Update 9:46
Dad is lost despite navigation system. Fingers frozen. Somebody shoot me.
Update 10:03
Sitting in dads truck thawing. Once fingers thaw I will show him how to use the navigation system....or beat him over the head with it.
Update 10:32
Dad dropped me off to get my car in the station parking lot. Almost home.
Update 10:39
Sitting in my driveway. My house never looked so beautiful. My son's window is dark. Since the day we got him, this is the first time I've not seen him in an entire day.
Update 11:28
Greeted by my husband and presented with an awesome homemade meal. Pulled pork sandwich, roasted string beans, cole slaw and twice baked potato with bacon and cheese. I told him if I wasn't so dang tired I would throw him down on the floor and give him some good loving right there (he took a rain check). He tried to keep the baby up to say goodnight but the little guy couldn't hang in there any more. Took a hot shower and about to go to bed. Turned off the alarm clock. Don't wake me in the morning.
