Another Resolution

I have a business idea.

I sort of jumped off P and Will's scanner thing, and thought it would be cool if people were able to get all their kids' old school work on disk, instead of keeping piles and piles of loose papers everywhere. And old photos. And any other kind of loose papers people keep.

Then I started thinking about doing organizing for folks. I mean, I'm good at organizing, keeping things neat, why not get paid to do it?

So I haven't gotten all the details worked out yet, but that's the general gist of it, and my fourth resolution is to research the idea more, write up a business plan, get a license or whatever I need, and see where that goes.

What do you think?

Maybe Next Time, Eh?

Taryn woke up around 5:45 to nurse this morning. I guess it's *kinda* my fault she was up so early, since I had last fed her around 9:30 last night. That's right, 8 full hours. And I was all excited thinking that I'd have a morning to myself while she slept some more. I made some coffee, checked my myspace, and settled down to write a nice long blog.

Then I hear this little gurgle sound, a small chuckle, and I went to make sure Taryn was breathing okay, since her nose has gone from runny to stuffed, and her whole body is wracked with coughs.

Obviously, she was fine. More than fine, really. She was lying on her back playing with her hands with her feet straight up in the air. Just talking to herself.

And as I speed-type (with all two fingers) this little blog out, she's in the process of rolling herself out the door. Amazing how mobile a non-ceawling, non-wlking child is.

Figured I'd be nice and let P sleep in a bit more today. For like 30 more minutes. Because I'm nice like that.

Ferber Kick Back

Another nice thing I've noticed about using the Ferber method is that Taryn is now able to put her binkie back into her mouth when it pops out. And I'm not talking about chewing on the hard plastic ring, she can actually stick the sucky part in her mouth.

I'm trying to figure out how that happened and I'm guessing she had been so accustomed to me putting it back in when she woke up, that she never learned to do it herself.

Just like she never learned to go back to sleep when she woke up in the middle of the night.

Ohmigod. Am I becoming an overbearing mother?

Oh Yeah ... Ferber?

It's going okay. I stopped the tracker thingy because Taryn has been doing great on it. She's falling asleep without crying at least half the time, and when she is crying, it's only for a few minutes.

I count this as a sucess, I just stopped counting minutes because 1) I'm sick. And when I'm sick, I'm lazy. 2) Taryn is sick, and I feel bad for my little angel suffering with a cough and a runny nose, sneezing, and teething to boot. And 3) the holidays jacked up her sleep schedule anyway. Staying up past midnight on Christmas Eve (I guess Christmas morning, really) and the fact that certain people that I am related to by marriage piss me off by not letting me put my baby to sleep when she's tired, and when I finally do wrestle her away from them she's so overtired she can't sleep. And they tell me I'm a crappy relative for not bringing her around enough, even though they don't come to visit us and I've told them what time she goes to sleep but they always want to show up late and then get all bent out of shape that I won't wake her up again... So it really didn't seem fair to continue the Ferber thing through the holidays.

And of course as I write this, she's in the background screaming.

But as soon as I wrote that, she stopped.

*sigh*

Resolutions

This year, I feel like I did pretty good on my resolutions. I only had 3: Write more, drink more water, and count to 10. While I was pregnant, I was drinking 64ozs a day, though I've slacked off a bit, and I'm definitely writing more, but the count to 10 got thrown out the window while I was surviving off 2-hour stretches of sleep. I think that one will get forwarded on to next year, you know, to try to preserve my marriage and all.

So next year, I'm going to work on three more things. And I'm going to try to make them realistic, because there's not much worse than setting a goal that's not attainable, and knowing from the jump you are going to fail, then actually failing.

1. Exercise more. I don't think I'll set a specific goal as to when I'm going to do it, but by the end of the year I'd like to be in the habit of doing weight training and cardio 3x per week. And I'd like to be more active the other days of the week, so I'm going to try to do more hikes with Taryn, taking the dogs on longer walks in the evenings, taking the stairs to work, that sort of thing.

2. Find a career goal. Now, this might be unnessesary if I enjoy being back at work, but if I do find that I hate being away from Taryn so much, or I'm just not digging the job anymore, I'd like to spend some time this year prioritizing my personal and professional goals, and researching what type of career would better suit me. and in addition to figuring out what I'd like to do, I want to also set up some sort of action plan to plot out how I may acheive that goal in a reasonable amount of time.

3. Count to 10. From this year. I don't think I need 4 goals to pursue in addition to caring for a new baby. I need to get my anger under control, figure out some ways to express it without hurting other people, and get my marriage back on track. The excuse of taking everything out on P because I'm not sleeping well and he isn't helping me as much as I expected is played out, and not what I want to carry into the new year.

So that's it. I also have a plan of evaluating my progress at the end of each month so I can remind myself of what needs to be done, and congratulate myself on what I've accomplished.

We'll see how it goes.

Ferber Convert Recap: Day Two

(I hope someone out there in cyber-space appreciates the fact that I am blogging at 8:45am on Christmas Eve's eve. Nobody else seems to be so dedicated, eh?)

Obviously the Tylenol had way more of an effect than I anticipated. Or maybe that new little tooth poking through is bothering her more than I thought. Either way, yesterday was harder, and easier at the same time.

Nap 1 - Cried for about 30 seconds. Poor baby, then she was knocked out.

Nap 2 - Cried for 9 minutes. She was exhausted from visiting with a pregnant neighbor and hearing the gossip, I think. I thought she'd sleep better being a bit more tired, but maybe the smell of baking cookies kept her up, who knows? Anyhow, after she fnally went to sleep, she woke up about 45 minutes later. Since I knew we were going into my job to visit some more that afternoon, I didn't take her out of bed and she cried for about another 5 minutes before she fell asleep for another hour.

Nap 3 - Didn't make a peep. She was wiped out, and slept for 2 hours straight until I realized what time it was (dinner) and woke her up.

Bedtime - Dreadful. While she didn't cry as long or as loud as lastnight, those 14 minutes were still heartwrenching. I went in twice to comfort her, which wasn't much really because she had worked herself into a tiffy, and P wanted to know if we could modify this Ferber thing to wait 10 minutes before going in. Evidently he thinks that we kind of prolong it by going in after 5 minutes the first time, and that maybe she'd settle down faster if we waited 10. I'm considering it, but not when she cried so hard she starts coughing. I can tell when she's winding down, so if that's what it sounds like at 5 minutes tonight, maybe.

She also woke up 3 times during the night, cried for maybe 1 or 2 minutes each time and settled back down. It's such a habit now to get up and comfort her, and lying in bed listening to her wails and watching the clock sucks.

Cry Counter
December 21 - 39 minutes
December 22 - 33 minutes

Ferber Convert Recap: Day One

We did the Ferber Method all day yesterday. The naps went well, Taryn cried for about a minute each time, then slept well, the first for about 1 hour, the second for 3 hours. Normally I wouldn't have let her sleep so long, but I had to finish my cookies so... you know.

But putting her to sleep for the night was an entirely different story.

I think I was spoiled that her naps were so easy, I expected the same for her bedtime. When we first put her down, she cried just about 5 minutes then passed out. And I, in my overconfident way, started dancing around the house, singing praises to Ferber that I would sleep more than a 2-hour stretch that night.

But 20 minutes later, she started crying again.

So after the 5 minutes, I went in, calmed her a bit, told her I loved her, and left. And she cried until the next 10 minute mark. By that time, I was sitting on the bed, hands clasped together, counting down the minutes until we could comfort her again.

So then it was P's turn, he went in, and when he came out, he looked seriously distressed.

I went downstairs, sat on the couch and started bawling. I tried so hard to be strong, but her pitiful wails broke my soul. After a couple minutes, P came downstairs and held me, while we both counted down until we could go back in to her.

She only lasted 10 minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. We realized her wails had subsided, so we un-muted the TV and gave each other a shaky smile, unsure if she'd be up again to rip out our hearts and crush them to a pulsing mush with her cries.

But she didn't, and we both felt lucky that she's a quick learner, even if a touch stubborn. I really don't think I could have done that for 2 hours, like Dr. M warned might happen the first night. And I hope to God it's all downhill from here.

On a brighter note, she finally passed out around 8:30pm. I woke her up at 10:30, before I went to sleep to feed her. And she slept until ...

Wait for it ...

6:30am. Can you believe that? 8 FN hours straight.

I, on the other hand, was still waking up every hour or so, looking at the clock, checking for cries, then going back to sleep. She did wake up once, cried for about a minute, then went back to sleep.

I'm hoping with a few more nights of this, I might turn back into a regular person who doesn't live off coffee and take 3-hour naps at lunchtime to ensure I won't break down at Pampers commercials.

Cry Counter:
December 20, 2006 - 39 minutes total.

12 Minute Miracle

What??? If I knew it could work that fast, I would've tried a looong time ago.

*rewind*

At yesterday's well baby check-up, Taryn weighed in at 15 lbs, 14 ozs and 25.5 inches long. Damn girl! The thing that trips me out on this one though, is she's still in the low-normal range for weight, but feels like a beast to me*.

And good news. My baby has boobies! The Doc said he had noticed the lump under her left nipple in her previous appointment (just completely failed to tell me...thanks) and that it's probably just developing breast tissue. Of course I left with the same warnings, if it starts getting red, she starts running a fever, or it seems like it hurts her, bring her back in. But yay! Maybe she won't be cursed by my own fate in the bust department: start developing late (12 years old), stop developing early (12.5 years old). Tee-hee-hee.

So Dr. M also suggested we try letting Taryn cry it out after I was telling him how she still wants to nurse 2 or 3 times a night, and that we're (I'm) spending copious amounts of time trying to settle her back down at night when she's waking up. He walked me through the "humane" way of doing it, checking in and settling her down after 5 minutes, then 10 minutes, etc. I started tearing up in the office just hearing him talk about it, but he promised me that by this age (and after watching us interact for 30 minutes) that she's very secure in our relationship and she won't hate me for it, that she'll be an even happier baby when she learns to fall asleep herself and sleep for longer than an hour or two, and also that it won't take more than 3-5 days if we're (I'm) consistent in our (my) approach. Meaning don't feel bad and comfort her when you're not supposed to, or you'll have to start all over. He did warn me though that she could cry up to two hours the first night, and maybe I should buy some ear plugs or rent a movie to distract us (me).

So I talked to P, and we decided to start today on it, since she had gotten shots and all, and I wanted to be available to comfort her. But after getting up roughly 10 times last night, I was too exhausted to keep it up. So at 4:19am, she started cryign again, and I started counting.

At 4:24am, I went into her room, flipped her onto her stomach, popped her binkie in, told her I loved her and goodnight.

At 4:31am, the crying stopped.

At 4:51am, I realized she really was asleep.

She hadn't had Tylenol since about 10:00pm.

She hadn't eaten since around 1:30am.

And she slept until 9:30am. Without waking up. Even when P left for work.

And, her binkie wasn't even in her mouth.

Now, I can admit when I'm wrong, and hotdamn, I was wrong about Ferber. (Mr. Ferber, my apologies) I am shocked shitless she slept for that long without a peep. And even more shocked, I got a couple hours straight of sleep too!

Though there is one drawback.

I ususlly don't wake up when P leaves for work. I think I've been too exhausted to even hear his alarm when he gets up, but this morning I heard it loud a clear. I even got up to pump since my left breast was chock-full of milk (I pumped 5 ozs on that side) then I went back to sleep.

Ahhhhh, sweet sleep.

So I tried again for her nap this morning. She cried for a minute, maybe less, then passed out.

There is a bounce in my step right now, a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, and I'm hyped up on caffeine ready to bake like nobody's business.

Life is gooooooood.

* Right about here is when she stopped crying today. Like, a minute, maybe? WOW.

Month Six

Happy Half-Year Birthday SweetPea!

At exactly this time six months ago, I was just realizing that I really was in labor, and planning whether to curl my hair, or shave my legs. As I'll probably tell you time and again, I didn't get a chance to do either and was a hot mess when you were born, hair sticking straight out all over. But Love, that was the best day of my life.

This month has been full of firsts for you. You took your first airplane ride, actually the first four airplane rides, of your life. You left California for the first time, met your Great-Granny for the first time, and stayed in a hotel for the first time. Which, by the way, you loved, propped up on all those pillows watching cartoons while Mommy and Papa took showers and got ready.

Some more memorable firsts you had this month were eating cereal and peas for the first time. Now Love, Mommy doesn't like peas either, but you're going to have to eat them. They are healthy for you and the whole spitting them out onto your clothes just isn't working anymore. You also cut your first tooth (sort of) this month. You've got the split gum just waiting for that little tooth to push through.

You also went to your first birthday party this month, when your cousin Josh turned 7, and you even played on the inflatable jumping thing with Mommy holding you. You went to your first Christmas party at your Tia Teresa's house, wore your first Christmas outfit, got your first Christmas pictures taken and later today you'll get your first flu shot. For that last one, I'm sorry.

Your Papa and I are still having problems getting you to sleep on your own. You have to eat at least once at night still, and since your teeth are coming in, it's harder for you to fall asleep by yourself. So this month Angel, my wish for you is that you learn, somehow, good sleep habits. I'll try my best, and I'm sure by the time you start school you'll be fighting us to sleep just a little bit longer, instead of wanting to wake up bright and early to play.

This has been a hard month Angel, between the sleep, teeth, and me having to go back to work soon. I wish I could stay home with you, but in this day and age, it's practically impossible to survive one one paycheck and keep the house. Just know that I'm doing all I can to make sure you get the best care possible while I'm at work, and I'll dedicate my waking hours to making sure you feel loved and cherished. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

I love you.
Mommy.

Introvert

As much as I like meeting new people, I'm an introvert at heart.

I've taken that test, the one that says whether you are an introvert or extrovert, intuitive or ... I really don't remember. But for years I believed I was an extrovert because that test, just a touch on the slow-to-warm-up side.

Then my last semester at SSU, I took a Jungian class and took that test again, and it said I was an introvert. I think the difference was that I finally realized that as much as I enjoy going out and partying with friends, when I was feeling really crappy the thing that rejuvenated me was being alone and clearing up my thoughts so that I could go out again and focus on others.

Now, when I'm depressed, that's different. In those times I know I need to get out so I'm not stuck all alone in my head. I know myself well enough to realize that I spiral downward when I'm depressed and all by my lonesome, but in general, just to recharge myself after being out and expending energy, there's nothing better than 30 minutes with a cup of coffee and a book. Not even a good book is necessary, just something to read.

And I think I'm okay with that. I kind of have an excuse now, that since only Pedro or I can be out at once because we don't have many people that are willing and able to watch Taryn at any given time. But aside form those times she's really fussy and not wanting to sleep, I don't mind being the one at home by myself to watch her. I feel like I've matured enough to not have to follow the crowd, to not force myself to go out when I really don't want to or can't afford it.

The flip side though is that I'm shitty at keeping in touch. If I don't see you on a regular basis without effort, like at work, or school, or a coffee shop or something, I have the awful habit of completely losing touch with people. And part of that is my adhorrence of phones. But another part is when I'm in my me-zone, I just forget anyone else exists (besides my baby, of course) and then when so much time has passed without calling or writing, then I feel bad for losing touch and figure if you really wanted to talk, you'd call.

And of course, my friends probably all think the same thing.

I don't know where this is going. I'm home tonight while P is out drinking. I was going to make a cup of pomegranate white tea and go read my book, but thought I'd blog a bit first. Gotta stay in the habit even when I have nothing coherent to blog about.

So that's all. And if you are reading this and you're one of those people that I've lost touch with, I'm sure I still love you. Just gimme a call, okay?

Pearly Whites, Here We Come!

Taryn (kind of) cut her first tooth today!

So she doesn't actually have any teeth showing yet, but her gums are definitely split, so I can only guess it'll be a matter of days before one pops in.

I'm so proud of my little Angel for getting through it okay. The last couple weeks, from right after Thanksgiving to the middle of last week were rough, with her not sleeping much and eating really sporadically, but I'm glad I have an explanation of why.

I guess I'll have to be more careful nursing in the future, since she has a habit of chewing when she's not hungry anymore.

I feel like I should have a teething party or something.

But Still, Thanks

I know the response was tempered by recent events.

But still, thanks.

It makes things so much easier to know I can.

And please know you can too, thought I'm much more emotional than you.

I may not take it as well, but I will take it.

Because that's what friends do.

On Second Thought ...

I had this whole post outlined in my head about how I was going to expound on the very fine line between friendly teasing and just being mean. But as I was putting Taryn to sleep a bit ago, and rounding out my arguements, I realized I can't write about that.

Because my main arguement "If you have something about me you want to tell me, then FN say it, don't be passive-aggressive," doesn't quite stand up. Because really, writing a post about how certain persons in my life are making our relationship less than enjoyable for me by being cruel and disguising their issues with me in thinly veiled insults... well, it's sort of passive-agressive, isn't it? I mean, by posting that here, and not saying it to them directly.

So instead, I'll just say ... nothing. Like usual. Because I tried to be a good friend this past week, and now someone isn't speaking to me anymore. And rather than piss off everyone that I care about, I'd rather curl up in a ball and cry myself to sleep, dreaming of how life might be different if I could speak my mind to people without fear of how they will react.

So goodnight, sweet dreams.

Regrets? Not Here ...

People always seem to be asking each other, do you regret it? What's the biggest regret of your life? If you could go back and change one thing, what would it be?

I'm a true beleiver that things happen for a reason. And though I may forget the old adage when things get really tough, in hindsight I've been able to recognize the lesson that I was supposed to learn, or the good that came out of the struggle.

And I'm very proud of who I am, and where I am today in my life, and I wouldn't be this person if I hadn't gone through everything that I have. So in honor of living without regrets, and not looking back at 2006 wishing things had been different, here's my list of the Top Ten Things I Don't Regret in 2006.

1. Not hiring a doula. I wanted to do Taryn's birth as naturally as possible, but in the rush of getting everything tied together at work before I went on maternity leave and finishing the house, P and I just didn't get around to it. To be honest, we didn't get around to a lot of things before she was born, like finishing the nursery or writing up a birth plan, but not getting a doula was a wise decision. Because really, I'm proud of P and I for doing it how we did without outside help. And I didn't want to do anything but sit in the bed, curled inhis arms while I was in labor. I didn't want to speed it up by walking or anything because it already hurt so bad, and I learned through that experience that when it really comes down to it, P knows me better than anyone else, and he will be there for me when I need him.

2. Holing up for a week after Taryn's birth. I knew it was the best thing for us, so I could get to know my baby before subjecting myself to the stresses of entertaining. And though I felt bad for everyone else, I had to put my baby's needs over theirs, and I hope that I can continue to live like that. For the people who can't handle that and called me selfish... Suck it.

3. Buying the nursery furniture off craigslist. I had picked out beautiful matching furniture when I registered at Babies R Us, and had planned to spend close to $1500 on it, but as I realized that I needed to save just a bit more for my time off work, I looked around and eended up saving $1200 by getting it used. And go me! Because if I hadn't saved that money, I would have been back at work by now.

4. NaBloPoMo. Because yay! I won a shirt!

5. Telling the truth. I sleep better at night knowing that I am honest. Sure, I could have gotten stuff for free, or pretended that someone wasn't being passive-aggressive, but really, I feel good that I am living my life with integrity. And if I hurt people's feelings in the process, I'm sorry. I really am. But I'm not up to pretending and stuffing my feelings anymore.

6. Letting the baby sleep with us. Everyone told us we'd never get her out of our bed if we let her sleep withus, but I'm happy to say all those people are dead wrong. There was a few-month stretch when she slept with us all night, when I was too exhausted to get up to nurse her, and it was just easier or her to be in the bed with me. And look now. She's sleeping like an angel in her crib now. Though I do take her in the bed in the mornings, but I have to get my snuggle quota in!

7. Not doing the formula route. I know it works for a lot of people, and I'm not bashing anyone's personal decision whether to breastfeed or not, because you all are sleeping while I'm up three times a night to nurse still. But it was important to me to breastfeed, and though I'm still tired a lot, and it's inconvenient sometimes, and I feel like a dairy cow when I pump, I'm glad I never caved in and gave her formula. And I'm glad the one time I actually made it for her, she wouldn't eat it and my milk came in just a couple of hours later.

8. Connecting with other new moms. It's so awesome to watch our kids grow up together, and to have someone to bitch to who knows exactly what I'm going through and can offer advice when I have problems. I've got issues with trusting new people, but I'm so glad I did because they have made this "new mom" thing so much easier.

9. Blogging again. Even just for the monthly check-ups on Taryn, I love that she will have a record of her life since before she can remember, and will be able to see who I was before she was born, and as a person other than just her mommy.

10. Lastly, I don't for a second regret taking up the caffeine addiction again. There are so many simple pleasures that people deny themselves for the sake of health or time or money. And I've given up a lot of things for all three of those, but I love my coffee, and I enjoy every single sip of it, every single morning.

Sleep, Sweet Sleep

I have no idea what to do right now.

I've caught up reading my blogroll, I even went so far as to check out Crazy Aunt Purl's archives. Which I don't normally do.

I've made my list of what errands I need to run today.

And what I need to get at Trader Joe's for the Sangria tonight.

And still, Taryn is alseep.

Hmmmmm. I'm starting to think the disturbance of the last couple weeks (read: no naps, staying awake until midnight, then getting up at 7:30am, after wanting to nurse every 1.5 hours at night) may have been due to a serious growth spurt, and not teething like I had thought. She does seem a lot bigger to me, I'm guessing she's probably up to 16 lbs?

And I'm thinking the cereal is helping her to sleep like a normal child, at least during the day, because guess what? She still gets up to eat at least 3x each night. Normally.

Oh, speaking of the Devil, my Sweet Angel is calling.

Good thing too, feels like my boobs were going to explode soon!

Chinese Food

I don't know what it is about (Americanized) Chinese food, but I FN love it.

Seriously, I think given the menu at say, Pings, I could live off Chinese food for a year straight, and still not be sick of it. It's so incredibly yummy.

I don't know if I would say that about any other type of food, except maybe Italian. Because as much as I love sushi, I don't think eating it every day would be okay with me. And maybe it's because it's fish, and to my uneducated taste buds, all fish kind of really tastes too similar to me to do on a daily basis.

When I was pregnant, I thought I could eat sandwiches every day. And the sad part about that is that I did for a while, and I ate the exact same sandwich, roast beef with pepper-jack cheese of a dutch crunch roll, for weeks, and was totally not sick of them. The only reason I stopped was I started getting heart burn in the last month or so, and I'm a wuss. What's the point of eating a deli sammie if you can't have pepperocinis on it? And those little Tums? Really didn't help with some foods.

I think for drinks, I would go with iced tea. Love it. And all the different flavors are wonderful. I used to be a dedicated peach tea drinker, but lately I've been into tho POM iced teas, and of course my fav is the peach one. I doubt I love it so much for how many antioxidants are in it, I'm just a fan of the flavor. And the re-useable glass. I've got like 20 in my kitchen.

What about you? What's your favorite food or drink?

Blast from the Past

So. I talked to my mom yesterday and she mentioned that she had seen one of my ex's at Ross or some store that day.

I should stop and mention that he wasn't exactly just an ex. He was my first, and my first real boyfriend, and a really good guy, and evidently he and my mom had had a conversation about marriage way back then. And she introduced him to her own boyfriend as "The one Aletta was supposed to marry."

Whoa.

But I haven't seen him since the day before I was married. We had lunch. He didn't say much. And I think a part of me was waiting for him to tell me that I was making a mistake, and that he'd take care of me, and I didn't have to marry P. But all he said was "Congratulations. As long as you're happy with him." And I have to love him for not trying to stop what he thought would make me happy.

And that's how we left things.

But to hear that he's still around, and frankly I'm surprised I haven't seen him in 5 years as we live in the same town... it just brings up such sweet memories. It's weird how that first person you love is always special, no matter the circumstances between you, and he's always been that yardstick that I measured men to, and nobody really was the same, but P was so close and time passes so quickly.

.....

In related news, I saw a girl from high school today. She was said ex's best friend's girlfriend. Got that?

She has three beautiful boys, all under 3 years old, and she looks fucking fabulous.

I'm jealous.

6 months and I haven't lost my baby weight yet. Her youngest is 4 months old, and she looks incredible, all chipper and smiles... I'm really happy for her. And she lives right down the street from me, so I'm looking forward to hanging out with her again.

Quarter Life Crisis

I'm suddenly feeling like my "career" isn't exactly in alignment with my hopes for myself.

Not that I don't like my job. The people I work with are great, and for the most part I really like my clients too, it's just... I'm not passionate about it.

I don't know if I'm cut out for the sit-down type office job anymore. There was a time when the structure and reliability of a paycheck every two weeks was what I craved but now, it's just kind of boring. I want a job where I can get up and go outside sometimes, something creative without being too artsy, something I love to do and feel passionate about.

Like interior design. Or planning weddings.

Not that I have any skills in either of those two, but they sound fun, and challenging, and like something I would look forward to getting up to do every morning.

Nothing like determining benefits.

Yay.

So what to do? I'm not about to go back to school and miss out on more of Taryn growing up just because I have an itch to do something different.

What to do, what to do....

Always a Lady

We took Taryn to meet a woman who runs a home daycare yesterday. She did very well, considering she was in a new place being held by a stranger. She had one pouty moment, but was easily distracted by the massive amount of new toys she could play with.

The woman was very nice telling us all about herself and her experience, and Taryn warmed up to her very quickly.

And you know when she gets comfortable, she just starts babbling away.

So Taryn is sitting in her lap, playing with some little toys, the woman starts talking to Taryn, like "Really? Wow! Tell me more!"

And Taryn, realizing that it wasn't Mommy's voice turns, looks at the woman, sticks out her tongue and starts blowing spit bubbles and making that razzberry sound.

I about died laughing looking at the shocked look on her face. I'm sure she's seen it before, but maybe never in context by such a young child. And every time she started talking to Taryn again, she would turn around and blow some more spit bubbles at her.

So then we were talking some more (us adults, I mean) and Taryn got down on her belly, butt pointing up in the air trying to reach for a teether that was just out of her reach. And I think she strained so hard she just couldn't help it.

"Pppppfffffggggghhhhhhhhh!"

She just let one rip.

Tee-hee-hee, my little Angel knows how to be a Lady already!

I'll admit, I showed her the razzberry one, but those farts? That's all her Papa and Uncle B's fault.


.....

btw, I just realized this is my 100th post. Yay!

For You, Nonny

Merry Christmas!!



"This stuff gives me gas, but I'm putting on a brave face."



"Maybe if I don't look, this huge orange bear will disappear... Wait! Uncle Jeff, is that you?"



I don't know if this kid could take a bad picture.

One Down. Two to Go.

I took out my tongue ring last night.

I'm still not really sure why, just seemed like the right time. I've had it since I was 16, a good long 7 years this January, and I just didn't want it anymore.

Every time I took it out before, it felt so weird I had to put it back in, but this time, I feel like I'm whole again, or at least that part of me.

I've read that people who get a lot of piercings do it as an external statement of the pain they have inside, so maybe that particular pain is gone now.

Ohmyhotgeebus.

I got my tongue pierced about 7 months after I lost my baby.

Now I have my baby back.

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That was quite a realization there, I'm going to need to cut this short for some processing time. Suffice to say, I still have my nose and navel done. But I'm under the impression those were purely aesthetic. I got them done before my life turned to shit, and I think I'll hang on to them for a while longer.

When is Enough, Enough?

[This post has been edited on 12/8/06 to remove the 18 swear words that I so unjudiciously inserted in my rage. Actually, it was only two different words, used 18 times. Sorry folks.]

Because really, I'm about *this[beep]ingclose* to throwing in the towel.

There is only so much bull[beep] a woman can take before it's time to get Tanya Harding on someone's ass, and don't blame me for reacting in a slightly psychotic way after trying and trying for years to get this [beep] on an even keel.

Please excuse the language, I'm feeling more pissed than creative so the barbs are more brutish than poetic.

[Beep] him. And I'm not the one to talk massive amounts of [beep] about someone I'm close to, but who in the [beep] does he think he is coming home at 2:30am when he knows gawd damn good and well that the baby isn't doing well, and I barely slept the night before.

And [beep] him for leaving all his [beep] around the house like a [beep]ing child and expecting me to clean up after is nasty stank-ass, then complaining if the house isn't clean. Like his ass ever does anything more than sit and watch TV and scratch his balls.

And [beep] him for calling me fat when his flabby ass stomach hangs over the top of his pants and he eats twice as much as me, eats out almost every day, doesn't go to the gym, and doesn't even have the excuse of birthing a child.

And [beep] him even more for being broke and not wanting to get another job even though his trashy ass can't afford food or even his own socks and would be seriously hurting in every single way if I didn't pay for most of everything that we have. We wouldn't have [beep] if it wasn't for me, and his non-ambitious ass just complains about his credit card debt. [Beep] that. Stop spending money on stupid [beep] you know you can't afford!

And [beep] the complaining about everything when you don't do a [beep]ing thing to make things better.

[Beep] you not doing your own laundry, and not appreciating a [beep]ing thing I do for you.

Man, just [beep] off.

If You're Thinking of Getting Me a Present for Christmas....

Please buy it for me, and not Taryn.

Now I know someone out there is thinking "Dang, this girl is selfish!" But here's the thing. I may have mentioned before that I hate being disappointed. And what's more disappointing than seeing a present with your name on it, and after opening it, you realize its for someone else?

Nothing. Not. A. Thing.

I'm not saying don't buy presents for Taryn, in fact, I'd prefer people only buy presents for her, and not me (so then I don't have to buy you anything! Hee-hee). But if you're going to put my name on a present, please buy it for me.

See, this happened when I was pregnant. For my birthday, out of all the gifts I received, only my mom and P and my Aunt Jen actually bought something for me. And I swear, I'm not being greedy or selfish or anything, I'd just really prefer to know ahead of time that the gift I'm opening is for someone else.

So please, please, if you're thinking of buying me a gift this year, don't wrap up something for Taryn and put my name on it.

That's just wrong.

But please feel free to buy whatever you want for my baby girl. She's wearing 6/9 months now. And don't tell me all the things you wanted to buy her, but didn't because I would get mad. I've told everyone a million times I don't mind if they spend money on her, just don't spend *too much* on P and I.

Merry Christmas!!

I Won!!

Not the car, mind you, but I won nonetheless! Yay me!

I get an awesome shirt from Margalit's Cafepress store. Not exactly work appropriate, I think, but very cool.

I really never win anything. I once thought I was lucky. When I was 7 or so, my mom took J and I to Disneyland. On each person's ticket was a scratch-off or something, and if your character matched the character of the day, you got to go up on this crazy-decorated stage and spin this wheel to win a prize.

Well, lucky me, I got to go up and won Dumbo and The Little Mermaid on VHS. I was so psyched, because listen, I wasn't a lucky kid. But then I later found out that the ticket was really my mom's and she gave it to me instead of going up there herself. Sweet, but damn.

The other time I thought I was lucky for winning something was when we were at Knotts Berry Farm and I got to go on the show "Let's Get Messy." Our contest was musical chairs, but on each chair there was a pie platter of chocolate pudding that you had to sit in. So me in my magenta, paisly-paterned hammer pants with the paisly-print vest attached to a turtleneck went up on stage and got pretty far in the game (but didn't win, I think I was the third to last person off) and after the game I was all chocolatey from the game, and soaking wet from my mom trying to hose the chocolate off my pants, and on top of it all I was freezing cold because the sun had started to set.

And in the end my pants got ruined, so my mom wrote a letter to the show to pay for my pants but instead they sent me a bunch of show paraphanalia, a tee-shirt and poster and a signed picture of that creepy red-headed guy who was the host. Damn.

So I'm stoked to win this shirt, fair and square, no strings attached, without ruining an outfit of mine. I'll post a picture in it when it arrives so you all can see my dominatrix side. Tee-hee-hee.

Cereal

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!

Taryn ate her first few spoons of cereal today.

I'm not sure which side of the family she gets her facial expressions from, but the grimace of "What in the hell is this lumpy, bland, tastes-like-titty-milk crap they are shoveling into my mouth? And why in the hell are you filiming me and laughing and smiling while I drool on myself like a catatonic monkey in this chair that is made for someone twice my size?"

Tooo cute. And I was going to put pictures up, but the camera died right when we were finishing, so soon. Very soon.

I'm praying that it really does help her sleep a bit longer at night. Seriously. As much as I love nursing her and cuddling at night, I can't fathom the orgasmic bliss of sleeping like, six hours in a row, without being disturbed.

*sigh*

Cried Myself to Sleep

Ohmigod.

I am so torn.

I know I have to go back to work. We can't afford our house if I don't, but I'm heartbroken at the thought of leaving my little Angel with a stranger.

I know she's going to be okay, and I'll be crying when it happens, not her.

But I feel like I just want to curl up and die right now.

I have to set my intention now, while it's fresh and painful and clear.

The relationship is what is most important at this age. I don't care about the high-tech toys and circle time and all that. I just want someone to love her half as much as I do, and to make sure she knows how special she is, and not stifle her creativity.

I can't breathe.

I can't stop the tears.

I don't know if I can do this ...