We went to see Mana on Friday night, and it was the most incredible concert I've been too. That could not mean much, considering I haven't been to all that many, but the vibe of the crowd was like nothing I've been around before.
The effects were amazing, there was fire and water, images of butterflies and trees, and inspirational messages that made it okay to seek help. It was really incredible.
There was some drama, of course. A woman said she was grabbed inappropriately, and when P and I were in line for beer, we ended up with the last two (really four, heh) liter bottles. There were probably 30 people in line behind us, and the called the police over to stop any fights that broke out when they announced that the one person behind us would be the last to get anything.
It was funny though, because all the songs were in Spanish I didn't understand much, but the music was still amazing. I knew most of them from what P had played at home, and some I knew well enough to sing along to, but some I didn't know at all but I could feel the meaning.
All in all, a bit stressful to get to it, but it was so worth the trouble.
September 30, 2007
September 27, 2007
A Plan's a Plan, Right?
I'm torn here. I don't want to be offensive, but I've been super-irritated by something that seems to be happening more and more regularly with more and more people. And I know I'm PMS-ing, so I'm more bothered than normal, but FUCK!
Can you make up your damn mind?
I don't do wishy-washy. For a lot of years when my self-esteem was lower, I was that person who would defer to others' wishes. When I was asked to make a decision like, "Where do you want to go for lunch?" I would always be the one without an opinion. Even when I really wanted to go somewhere, I would say I didn't care so as not to be pushy. How lame is that? I'm the only person I would call pushy who stated an opinion.
I didn't realize I had lost my voice until a friend said he remembered how when we were dating I would tell him I was going somewhere and he was free to come along, but I was going even if he didn't. And he loved that about me.
And I've been trying ever since to state my opinions, when I have them. I'm realizing something major changed in me after Boogie was born. I have to set an example of a strong woman for her, so I've been consiously setting myself up to be the person I always wanted to be, I just didn't have the motivation to improve until she came along.
Sometimes I really don't give a damn where to go to eat. I'm just hungry. But it drives me crazy when other people are wishy-washy. I can't stand to be in a conversation with someone who is deferential to the point of not having an opinion. And I abhor the actions of people who try to make things easier for you, and end up fucking it all up.
Example. If I'm at work and I need to get something from someone on another floor, I will normally call them and let them know I am coming to get it. If that person says they'll be upstairs soon so they can drop it off anyway, fine. But if we agreed that I would go downstairs to get it, and that person happens to come upstairs to drop it off without telling me, it's bound to be at the same time that I'm going downstairs to pick it up. So we cross paths without realizing it, and I'm downstairs searching for the paper, or the person I need to get it from.
That was a bogus example, but it's that kind of thing that irks me lately. Like, I get you are trying to be helpful, but you're really not. I like when things happen according to whatever plan we decided on, and when someone decides to change that plan, it inevitably screws with me.
If I say, "Let's go have lunch." And you say, "Sure, where?" Then I'm going to respond with a location. If you agree to that, it's a plan, right?
But if when we're in the car you say, "If you don't want to go to X, we could go to Y." Then you're fucking with my plan.
And I might respond by saying, "Sure, if you'd rather go to Y, that's fine with me." Don't freaking turn around and say, "Or we could try Z if you don't like Y."
We already planned on X, why is the hell are we now discussing Z? I am not the docile creature I was years ago. If I don't want to go to Y, I won't agree to go there. If you didn't want to go to X, you shouldn't have agreed in the first place.
Comprende?
Raaaawwwrrrrr.
Can you make up your damn mind?
I don't do wishy-washy. For a lot of years when my self-esteem was lower, I was that person who would defer to others' wishes. When I was asked to make a decision like, "Where do you want to go for lunch?" I would always be the one without an opinion. Even when I really wanted to go somewhere, I would say I didn't care so as not to be pushy. How lame is that? I'm the only person I would call pushy who stated an opinion.
I didn't realize I had lost my voice until a friend said he remembered how when we were dating I would tell him I was going somewhere and he was free to come along, but I was going even if he didn't. And he loved that about me.
And I've been trying ever since to state my opinions, when I have them. I'm realizing something major changed in me after Boogie was born. I have to set an example of a strong woman for her, so I've been consiously setting myself up to be the person I always wanted to be, I just didn't have the motivation to improve until she came along.
Sometimes I really don't give a damn where to go to eat. I'm just hungry. But it drives me crazy when other people are wishy-washy. I can't stand to be in a conversation with someone who is deferential to the point of not having an opinion. And I abhor the actions of people who try to make things easier for you, and end up fucking it all up.
Example. If I'm at work and I need to get something from someone on another floor, I will normally call them and let them know I am coming to get it. If that person says they'll be upstairs soon so they can drop it off anyway, fine. But if we agreed that I would go downstairs to get it, and that person happens to come upstairs to drop it off without telling me, it's bound to be at the same time that I'm going downstairs to pick it up. So we cross paths without realizing it, and I'm downstairs searching for the paper, or the person I need to get it from.
That was a bogus example, but it's that kind of thing that irks me lately. Like, I get you are trying to be helpful, but you're really not. I like when things happen according to whatever plan we decided on, and when someone decides to change that plan, it inevitably screws with me.
If I say, "Let's go have lunch." And you say, "Sure, where?" Then I'm going to respond with a location. If you agree to that, it's a plan, right?
But if when we're in the car you say, "If you don't want to go to X, we could go to Y." Then you're fucking with my plan.
And I might respond by saying, "Sure, if you'd rather go to Y, that's fine with me." Don't freaking turn around and say, "Or we could try Z if you don't like Y."
We already planned on X, why is the hell are we now discussing Z? I am not the docile creature I was years ago. If I don't want to go to Y, I won't agree to go there. If you didn't want to go to X, you shouldn't have agreed in the first place.
Comprende?
Raaaawwwrrrrr.
September 21, 2007
Month Fifteen
I'm going to blame it on the fact that I'm a new mom that I just realized that rather than telling you about your fifteenth month, I'm really telling you about your fourteenth now, right? Or not?
You just pooped in the potty again. Is it weird that I'm proud of that? And an amazing discovery we made today is that you like ranch on your pizza. I didn't even know you like pizza, at least you don't care for the one I give you, only what Papa has. But you two were eating pizza for dinner tonight, and you stretched your hand up to your Papa and made your "a-yayayaya" sound. So he lowered his hand, and you wiped your piece of pizza across the top of his, covering the tops of all 5 fingers in ranch dressing, then popped it into your mouth. And you chewed with a wonderful happy smile on your face while you licked the ranch off your fingers. Papa's Girl.
Most kids' first words are something cute like "doggy" or "kitty" and of course Mama and Dada. And while you say those two adorable nicknames, and can sign kitty and can bark like a doggy your first real word? "Cheese." Need I say more?
I wish I could say we've had an exciting September, but really? It's been mostly sick time spent lying around reading books, watching movies and sticking any type of edible product into your mouth to see if you'll actually eat. In the past three months you grew 1.5 inches, but only gained 3oz. And now, Papa and I need to see a nutritionist, partly so our insurance can bill for extra appointments, partly I guess to make sure we're not starving you into model material. Because! This Monday you have an interview with Marla Dell Talent. And I'm praying you get a contract so I can stop stressing for a while about your college savings account that hasn't had a deposit since I opened it. Three months ago. But we're making daily deposits in the bank of LOVE. That's what really counts.
Love bug, my wish for you is that you have enough saved and earned to not leave college with a huge debt and a worthless degree, and second-guess your decision to go. I might be projecting a bit, but it's a crap situation to be in, and I hope you don't end up like Mama did.
I know I'm forgetting something, but I've been sick too and my brain is all foggy-like. But I do have fond memories of this month with you snuggling with us for hours, sleeping in the bed late on a Sunday morning when we're all sick and drippy, asking for sips of tea and eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I love how you nuzzle our necks when you're extra tired and how you wake up at 4am to nurse, and then sleep in until 8. I love seeing you in cutie-pie footie PJs that are fit for your age, but you're so small we have to roll up the sleeves and ankles so you can still play, and how you chase the cat around the house and pick her up by her neck, and you are so excited that she's too old to run away from you.
Papa has had a hard month, but you are always quick to give out hugs and kisses when they are needed most, and it's those special fleeting moments that make me love being a mom more than anything else in the world.
I love you.
Mama
You just pooped in the potty again. Is it weird that I'm proud of that? And an amazing discovery we made today is that you like ranch on your pizza. I didn't even know you like pizza, at least you don't care for the one I give you, only what Papa has. But you two were eating pizza for dinner tonight, and you stretched your hand up to your Papa and made your "a-yayayaya" sound. So he lowered his hand, and you wiped your piece of pizza across the top of his, covering the tops of all 5 fingers in ranch dressing, then popped it into your mouth. And you chewed with a wonderful happy smile on your face while you licked the ranch off your fingers. Papa's Girl.
Most kids' first words are something cute like "doggy" or "kitty" and of course Mama and Dada. And while you say those two adorable nicknames, and can sign kitty and can bark like a doggy your first real word? "Cheese." Need I say more?
I wish I could say we've had an exciting September, but really? It's been mostly sick time spent lying around reading books, watching movies and sticking any type of edible product into your mouth to see if you'll actually eat. In the past three months you grew 1.5 inches, but only gained 3oz. And now, Papa and I need to see a nutritionist, partly so our insurance can bill for extra appointments, partly I guess to make sure we're not starving you into model material. Because! This Monday you have an interview with Marla Dell Talent. And I'm praying you get a contract so I can stop stressing for a while about your college savings account that hasn't had a deposit since I opened it. Three months ago. But we're making daily deposits in the bank of LOVE. That's what really counts.
Love bug, my wish for you is that you have enough saved and earned to not leave college with a huge debt and a worthless degree, and second-guess your decision to go. I might be projecting a bit, but it's a crap situation to be in, and I hope you don't end up like Mama did.
I know I'm forgetting something, but I've been sick too and my brain is all foggy-like. But I do have fond memories of this month with you snuggling with us for hours, sleeping in the bed late on a Sunday morning when we're all sick and drippy, asking for sips of tea and eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I love how you nuzzle our necks when you're extra tired and how you wake up at 4am to nurse, and then sleep in until 8. I love seeing you in cutie-pie footie PJs that are fit for your age, but you're so small we have to roll up the sleeves and ankles so you can still play, and how you chase the cat around the house and pick her up by her neck, and you are so excited that she's too old to run away from you.
Papa has had a hard month, but you are always quick to give out hugs and kisses when they are needed most, and it's those special fleeting moments that make me love being a mom more than anything else in the world.
I love you.
Mama
The Nasty End of the Flu
I hate to complain (yeah! right!) but have you ever noticed that the end of the flu is the grossest? I mean, sure, you feel worse the first two weeks, and the last week or so is uncomfortable, but it is also the time when you are the most ... um ... drippy?
I won't describe to you the rainbow of colors that my mucos has been the last two days, but suffice to say most of the colors of the walls in my house? Perfect match.
But the good news is that I am finally on the mend. And better news is that Boogie is feeling much better than I am. She's got a snotty nose also but it doesn't seem to bother her too much, more like a liquidy salt-lick to occupy her idle hours....
You may notice that I didn't get around to her monthly letter yesterday, but I will today. I popped a Tylenol PM at around 7 last night and slept like I didn't have a baby until the 4am feeding. Then miraculously fell right back asleep until my alarm went off for the third time at 6 am. I don't remember turing it off the first two times though, oops.
And good news too, is that P has been really backing me up these two weeks since I've been sick. He's had a lot to do as well, preparing for interviews and such, but he's been awesome about letting me pass-out on the couch while he cooks dinner and feeds Boogie, wakes me up by putting food in front of my face so I can get enough energy for bathtime, and then doing a man-cleaning of the kitchen since I've been going to sleep around 7:30 at night.
I'd probably feel better if he did all that dressed like a fireman, but I can't complain too much. :)
I won't describe to you the rainbow of colors that my mucos has been the last two days, but suffice to say most of the colors of the walls in my house? Perfect match.
But the good news is that I am finally on the mend. And better news is that Boogie is feeling much better than I am. She's got a snotty nose also but it doesn't seem to bother her too much, more like a liquidy salt-lick to occupy her idle hours....
You may notice that I didn't get around to her monthly letter yesterday, but I will today. I popped a Tylenol PM at around 7 last night and slept like I didn't have a baby until the 4am feeding. Then miraculously fell right back asleep until my alarm went off for the third time at 6 am. I don't remember turing it off the first two times though, oops.
And good news too, is that P has been really backing me up these two weeks since I've been sick. He's had a lot to do as well, preparing for interviews and such, but he's been awesome about letting me pass-out on the couch while he cooks dinner and feeds Boogie, wakes me up by putting food in front of my face so I can get enough energy for bathtime, and then doing a man-cleaning of the kitchen since I've been going to sleep around 7:30 at night.
I'd probably feel better if he did all that dressed like a fireman, but I can't complain too much. :)
September 18, 2007
Whoo-Hoo!!!!
I'm so stoked right now! I just got a call from Marla Dell, and Boogie has a modeling interview on Monday! Yay!
She said she didn't realize how long it had been since we submitted the application, and she's been waiting to see us for a while.
Only bad thing is that means a lot more time that I need to take off work, on very short notice, but Yay!
****
In other news, Boogie is still sick. She's got a cough now, and runny nose, but at least no fever. She got 3 shots yesterday, so I know she's feeling crappy now. Plus, we have to go see a nutritionist because the kid has grown 1.5 inches taller in 3 months, but is only 3ozs heavier. Height for age, she's average, 56%, but weight for age she's only 3%, and weight for height, she's not even on the chart anymore.
Poor Angie, but I'm pretty sure being sick the last week didn't help. I have another appointment scheduled in a couple months to check up on her weight again. But the Doc said maybe she's just blessed with the long and skinny gene, like Mama.
She said she didn't realize how long it had been since we submitted the application, and she's been waiting to see us for a while.
Only bad thing is that means a lot more time that I need to take off work, on very short notice, but Yay!
****
In other news, Boogie is still sick. She's got a cough now, and runny nose, but at least no fever. She got 3 shots yesterday, so I know she's feeling crappy now. Plus, we have to go see a nutritionist because the kid has grown 1.5 inches taller in 3 months, but is only 3ozs heavier. Height for age, she's average, 56%, but weight for age she's only 3%, and weight for height, she's not even on the chart anymore.
Poor Angie, but I'm pretty sure being sick the last week didn't help. I have another appointment scheduled in a couple months to check up on her weight again. But the Doc said maybe she's just blessed with the long and skinny gene, like Mama.
September 17, 2007
Thank Goodness for the Ego
And I mean that in a wholly Freudian sense of the word.
I haven't blogged in almost two weeks, which could be construed as me doing very well emotionally, as I tend to blog when I have something I need to get out. I wish I could say that was true, but really, I've been dealing with so much lately, the most difficult being my Id trying to kick the ass of my Super-ego, that I figured it was safer not to write anything public.
I'm not a control freak, I just have a super-strong Super-ego. But these past couple weeks, I've wanted to just say fuck-all to everyone and leave me alone. I know part of it is being sick. And part of it is not sleeping well because the creepy fucking blue light in our room, and Boogie being up every couple hours with a 102 fever and a runny nose. Tygir has something wrong with her hip, so I'm contemplating medical bills up the yang, and really? Nanny, I'm not your fucking mother.
I know I've taken on a lot, and I don't want to deal with it anymore. I wish, for one short period in my life, that someone else would just deal with everything for me so I can focus on what's really important. I don't want to be the gagged confidant right now. I don't want the frustration of my solicited opinions being constantly ignored. I don't want to cook and clean, walk the dogs, or even shower. I just want to take care of my baby the way I know she needs it.
I'm feeling very judgmental at the moment. I don't agree with what you are doing, but I don't even have the energy to tell you that. It's easier for me to shut-up and listen, then you'll stop talking about yourself and maybe give a damn about my well-being for a moment. Even writing that, I can see the repercussions coming, the questions, the anger... But what to do? It applies to everyone I'm in contact with lately, my boss, my coworkers, clients and friends. No one specific, just everyone. And it's obviously me, because my head isn't big enough to think I'm in the center of some elaborate conspiracy to make me feel shitty.
So don't take it personally if you start yacking and my eyes glaze over. I just don't have the energy to deal with your stuff right now. I don't have the energy to be caring and sympathetic. I only have enough to take care of me and Boogie right now, and ah! A jolt of maturity and wisdom... That's all I'm going to try to do.
I haven't blogged in almost two weeks, which could be construed as me doing very well emotionally, as I tend to blog when I have something I need to get out. I wish I could say that was true, but really, I've been dealing with so much lately, the most difficult being my Id trying to kick the ass of my Super-ego, that I figured it was safer not to write anything public.
I'm not a control freak, I just have a super-strong Super-ego. But these past couple weeks, I've wanted to just say fuck-all to everyone and leave me alone. I know part of it is being sick. And part of it is not sleeping well because the creepy fucking blue light in our room, and Boogie being up every couple hours with a 102 fever and a runny nose. Tygir has something wrong with her hip, so I'm contemplating medical bills up the yang, and really? Nanny, I'm not your fucking mother.
I know I've taken on a lot, and I don't want to deal with it anymore. I wish, for one short period in my life, that someone else would just deal with everything for me so I can focus on what's really important. I don't want to be the gagged confidant right now. I don't want the frustration of my solicited opinions being constantly ignored. I don't want to cook and clean, walk the dogs, or even shower. I just want to take care of my baby the way I know she needs it.
I'm feeling very judgmental at the moment. I don't agree with what you are doing, but I don't even have the energy to tell you that. It's easier for me to shut-up and listen, then you'll stop talking about yourself and maybe give a damn about my well-being for a moment. Even writing that, I can see the repercussions coming, the questions, the anger... But what to do? It applies to everyone I'm in contact with lately, my boss, my coworkers, clients and friends. No one specific, just everyone. And it's obviously me, because my head isn't big enough to think I'm in the center of some elaborate conspiracy to make me feel shitty.
So don't take it personally if you start yacking and my eyes glaze over. I just don't have the energy to deal with your stuff right now. I don't have the energy to be caring and sympathetic. I only have enough to take care of me and Boogie right now, and ah! A jolt of maturity and wisdom... That's all I'm going to try to do.
September 4, 2007
Beautiful, Ain't It?
And oh-so-energy-efficient.
Funny thing is though, from looking at this photo it would seem to someone who doesn't know us that the walls in the house are white...they are very much not. But I guess the ceiling still is, never noticed, really.
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