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.
December 27, 2006
December 23, 2006
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
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
December 22, 2006
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.
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.
December 21, 2006
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.
*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.
December 20, 2006
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.
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.
December 19, 2006
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?
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?
December 18, 2006
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.
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.
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.
December 17, 2006
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.
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.
December 16, 2006
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.
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.
December 15, 2006
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!
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!
December 14, 2006
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?
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?
December 13, 2006
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.
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.
December 11, 2006
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....
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....
December 10, 2006
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!
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!
December 8, 2006
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.
...
....
.....
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.
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.
...
....
.....
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.
December 7, 2006
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.
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.
December 6, 2006
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!!
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!!
December 4, 2006
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.
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.
December 3, 2006
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*
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*
December 1, 2006
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 ...
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 ...
November 30, 2006
NaBloPoMo -- Day 30
Yeah Baby! I made it!
And I've set a personal record of 38 posts for a single month. Now, I'll admit, a few were pretty lame, but the fact that I actually posted 30 days straight when the old computer died and was revived, the new computer shorted the keyboard and mouse, and melted the motherboard, and 5 days away from home posting via my phone.... I think I did pretty damn good, considering.
The funny this is how the mere thought of winning something can motivate you. Not that I actualy believe I'll win, because I never win anything, but the off chance that I might was nagging the back of my mind when I really considered not doing a post on some days.
Speaking of winning, on the american express website, I'm trying to buy a Porsche Caymen for $5k. I know, fat chance, right? But how dumb would I feel if I was meant to have it, and I didn't even try! It's a coupe though, so it wouldn't work with the carseat. I think I'd try to sell it and get a different car, maybe pay off my credit cards and set aside money for Taryn's college fund. *sigh* I could do so much with a little bit of free money.
Well anyway, wish me luck, send me some good juju, all that great stuff.
And I think I'll make a goal now of posting most days of the week. Kind of like my workout goal that flopped, but blogging is so much easier than getting my lazy ass up off this chair and to a gym!
And I've set a personal record of 38 posts for a single month. Now, I'll admit, a few were pretty lame, but the fact that I actually posted 30 days straight when the old computer died and was revived, the new computer shorted the keyboard and mouse, and melted the motherboard, and 5 days away from home posting via my phone.... I think I did pretty damn good, considering.
The funny this is how the mere thought of winning something can motivate you. Not that I actualy believe I'll win, because I never win anything, but the off chance that I might was nagging the back of my mind when I really considered not doing a post on some days.
Speaking of winning, on the american express website, I'm trying to buy a Porsche Caymen for $5k. I know, fat chance, right? But how dumb would I feel if I was meant to have it, and I didn't even try! It's a coupe though, so it wouldn't work with the carseat. I think I'd try to sell it and get a different car, maybe pay off my credit cards and set aside money for Taryn's college fund. *sigh* I could do so much with a little bit of free money.
Well anyway, wish me luck, send me some good juju, all that great stuff.
And I think I'll make a goal now of posting most days of the week. Kind of like my workout goal that flopped, but blogging is so much easier than getting my lazy ass up off this chair and to a gym!
November 29, 2006
FN Spider
I got bit in the ass last night by a spider.
I just don't get how it crawls all the way up my PJs, bites me, and gets all the way back out without getting squished.
Damn.
I just don't get how it crawls all the way up my PJs, bites me, and gets all the way back out without getting squished.
Damn.
On Debt
Debt is so much a part of everyday life for my generation. It's kind of sad, but at the same time I wonder how in the hell past generations were able to own homes, furniture, cars, have children young, and all on only one income.
I've tried really hard to limit my debt whenever possible, for the simple fact that until a year and a half ago, I didn't make enought to pay much more than my bills and student loans each month. But now that I have a better job, I also have a baby that I need to pay for childcare for, so it seems like the situation really hasn't changed that much for me.
The reason thought that I've been thinking about it so much is that since I decided to stay on maternity leave longer than I previously anticipated, I'm realizing that I'm going to head back to work a couple thousand in debt.
Okay, part of it is the shopping, I know. I could live without a new dinig room table and an old phone, and the baby could sleep in too small PJs, but I'm sick of living like that. I'm sick of always putting off what I want and need for when I can afford it.
And I've done good so far with the credit. I never get more in debt than I think I can pay back, it just sucks to have to think so far in the future for things that I want to enjoy now. And sucks even more that my other half isn't nearly as responsible with "his" debt, as I am with "mine." Because when it comes down to it, we really do have a shared obligation to pay it all back, even if we didn't spend equal amounts of it, and even if he buys stuff for himself, while I buy stuff the whole family will use. But that's another story completely.
So really, this is just my justification for spending another $500 tomorrow, because it's the last day of a really great sale, and glass tables are dangerous for small children. So I have to protect the baby. ;)
I've tried really hard to limit my debt whenever possible, for the simple fact that until a year and a half ago, I didn't make enought to pay much more than my bills and student loans each month. But now that I have a better job, I also have a baby that I need to pay for childcare for, so it seems like the situation really hasn't changed that much for me.
The reason thought that I've been thinking about it so much is that since I decided to stay on maternity leave longer than I previously anticipated, I'm realizing that I'm going to head back to work a couple thousand in debt.
Okay, part of it is the shopping, I know. I could live without a new dinig room table and an old phone, and the baby could sleep in too small PJs, but I'm sick of living like that. I'm sick of always putting off what I want and need for when I can afford it.
And I've done good so far with the credit. I never get more in debt than I think I can pay back, it just sucks to have to think so far in the future for things that I want to enjoy now. And sucks even more that my other half isn't nearly as responsible with "his" debt, as I am with "mine." Because when it comes down to it, we really do have a shared obligation to pay it all back, even if we didn't spend equal amounts of it, and even if he buys stuff for himself, while I buy stuff the whole family will use. But that's another story completely.
So really, this is just my justification for spending another $500 tomorrow, because it's the last day of a really great sale, and glass tables are dangerous for small children. So I have to protect the baby. ;)
November 28, 2006
So Far, So Good
Just talked to Nonny on the phone.
It feels so good to have her tell me that I'm doing a good job with Taryn.
Not that I don't think so too, but validation is a wonderful thing for the psyche.
It feels so good to have her tell me that I'm doing a good job with Taryn.
Not that I don't think so too, but validation is a wonderful thing for the psyche.
10 Reasons Today Already Sucks
And its only 9am...
1. I'm sick.
2. Baby's sick too.
3. I still have homework to do.
4. I'm spposed to go to class tonight.
5. I don't have my Christmas tree yet.
6. I don't have a car today.
7. I'm not going to be able to make it to pilates this afternoon.
8. I'm hungry, and there's nothing I want to eat here.
9. The dogs smell.
10. My toe still hurts.
Damnit all to hell. I have another one.
11. Taryn is a pro at rolling from back-to-tummy, but not as good figuring out how to get back on her back. So I keep trying to put her to sleep, and she keeps rolling to her tummy right away, then starts fussing because she's tired and doesn't want to play. I need a nanny.
1. I'm sick.
2. Baby's sick too.
3. I still have homework to do.
4. I'm spposed to go to class tonight.
5. I don't have my Christmas tree yet.
6. I don't have a car today.
7. I'm not going to be able to make it to pilates this afternoon.
8. I'm hungry, and there's nothing I want to eat here.
9. The dogs smell.
10. My toe still hurts.
Damnit all to hell. I have another one.
11. Taryn is a pro at rolling from back-to-tummy, but not as good figuring out how to get back on her back. So I keep trying to put her to sleep, and she keeps rolling to her tummy right away, then starts fussing because she's tired and doesn't want to play. I need a nanny.
November 27, 2006
I Trust Myself, Why Can't Others Do the Same?
I'm really sick of feeling like I have to justify my actions to others. Taryn is my daughter, why do people feel like they have a say in how I raise her?
I know I shouldn't let it bother me, I should take the good advice I hear and just ignore the rest, but it irks me. Especailly when P questions what I'm doing. Like on the plane flying back from Chicago yesterday.
Taryn was crying. I knew she was just tired, but he kept insisting that she was hungry, and so I tried nursing her just so he'd get off my case. When she started crying more hysterically, I told him again that she was just tired and suggested he walk with her a bit. But of course he wasn't able to calm her down after that so I took her back, and she fell asleep within minutes.
Now some folks feel real warm and fuzzy that they are the only ones who can soothe their children. But me, I'm annoyed. I try to give P opportunities to soothe her, rock her to sleep, bathe her and everything, but when it comes down to it, when she's even a touch more than mildly upset, he can't do it.
I tell him consistency is the key, that he can't do it now because he didn't try when she was a newborn. And even now he only puts her to sleep once or twice a week, and only sees her for an hour or so most workdays. But he gets frustrated that he can't do it as fast as I can, and he gives up.
And the messed up part of it all, is that when she's really having a fit at home I try to let him handle it, but then he guilt-trips me into taking her back saying things like " You're just going to sit there and let your baby suffer?" And "How can you hear your baby cry and not do anything?" But then when he can't soothe her he gets pissed off saying that I always take her from him too soon and don't give him a chance to learn what she likes.
And on top of that, I feel like he's sabotoging my efforts to get her to sleep on her own, and to get her on an eating schedule of every 3 hours instead of every two. Because I keep telling him (and showing him) that she needs to be put in her crib while she's still awake so she can learn to sleep herself, but whenever he puts her down, he does it when she's in a deep pskeep because he says she wakes up right away if she isn't. And every time she starts to fuss, his first reaction is to bring her to me and say she's hungry. Not even comprehending that she nurses for comfort at night and in the evening before bed, even though I've explained it many, many times.
Aaaarrrrggghhh.
This post wasn't supposed to be about him, and how frustrated I am with his lack of parenting skills, and more-so with his lack of desire to learn any new skills. But I guess that's what I'm ruminating on tonight. And compounded with my lack of sleep, I'm really surprised things aren't uglier than they are....
Oh well, better out than in, right?
I know I shouldn't let it bother me, I should take the good advice I hear and just ignore the rest, but it irks me. Especailly when P questions what I'm doing. Like on the plane flying back from Chicago yesterday.
Taryn was crying. I knew she was just tired, but he kept insisting that she was hungry, and so I tried nursing her just so he'd get off my case. When she started crying more hysterically, I told him again that she was just tired and suggested he walk with her a bit. But of course he wasn't able to calm her down after that so I took her back, and she fell asleep within minutes.
Now some folks feel real warm and fuzzy that they are the only ones who can soothe their children. But me, I'm annoyed. I try to give P opportunities to soothe her, rock her to sleep, bathe her and everything, but when it comes down to it, when she's even a touch more than mildly upset, he can't do it.
I tell him consistency is the key, that he can't do it now because he didn't try when she was a newborn. And even now he only puts her to sleep once or twice a week, and only sees her for an hour or so most workdays. But he gets frustrated that he can't do it as fast as I can, and he gives up.
And the messed up part of it all, is that when she's really having a fit at home I try to let him handle it, but then he guilt-trips me into taking her back saying things like " You're just going to sit there and let your baby suffer?" And "How can you hear your baby cry and not do anything?" But then when he can't soothe her he gets pissed off saying that I always take her from him too soon and don't give him a chance to learn what she likes.
And on top of that, I feel like he's sabotoging my efforts to get her to sleep on her own, and to get her on an eating schedule of every 3 hours instead of every two. Because I keep telling him (and showing him) that she needs to be put in her crib while she's still awake so she can learn to sleep herself, but whenever he puts her down, he does it when she's in a deep pskeep because he says she wakes up right away if she isn't. And every time she starts to fuss, his first reaction is to bring her to me and say she's hungry. Not even comprehending that she nurses for comfort at night and in the evening before bed, even though I've explained it many, many times.
Aaaarrrrggghhh.
This post wasn't supposed to be about him, and how frustrated I am with his lack of parenting skills, and more-so with his lack of desire to learn any new skills. But I guess that's what I'm ruminating on tonight. And compounded with my lack of sleep, I'm really surprised things aren't uglier than they are....
Oh well, better out than in, right?
Computer Died Again
So. Last time this happened, P bought a new computer.
It was all shiny and fast and new.
And it fried everything that was connected to it for power.
No mouse.
No keyboard.
Well, we borrowed a keyboard from my mom, but it's ergo, and I don't know how to type, so this is pretty damn difficult to write right now.
And the mouse is broken. It scrolls side-to-side, but not up and down, so I actually have to use alt+ and the direction keys to navigate everything.
Damn.
I have to finish a paper for ECE, and if I have the patience, I'll post a real blog.
It was all shiny and fast and new.
And it fried everything that was connected to it for power.
No mouse.
No keyboard.
Well, we borrowed a keyboard from my mom, but it's ergo, and I don't know how to type, so this is pretty damn difficult to write right now.
And the mouse is broken. It scrolls side-to-side, but not up and down, so I actually have to use alt+ and the direction keys to navigate everything.
Damn.
I have to finish a paper for ECE, and if I have the patience, I'll post a real blog.
November 26, 2006
This NaBloPoMo Thing
Really isn't as bad as I thought. I mean, really, all I have to do is post every single day. Even just a few words, and since I have email on my phone now, I was even able to do it while I was driving to see family.
I don't see what all the fuss is about.
I don't see what all the fuss is about.
What to do...
When someone you care about loves someone you don't care for.
I have no idea.
And the more I think about it, there's two different situations to consider. One is when the person is an a-hole, and you know they are bad news.
The other is when the person is not necessarily bad, but they are a bad influence. Is that possible?
I feel bad for not liking some folks that are close to friends and family, but when it comes right down to it, I have to trust my intuition. And when I see someone changing (not in a good way) because of the person they are in a relationship with, I have to assume that it is that person that is infuencing their actions.
Whatever. I don't know what to do. I don't want to open my mouth and ruin something that could be good, or damage the relationship I have because of a hunch, but I also don't feel like I'm being honest by pretending that I like the person. Hmmmmm....
And what makes it more difficult is that I was indifferent for so long, and I'm just coming to the realization that it's more than that, it is genuine dislike. Equally for what has been done, as for what hasn't.
I have no idea.
And the more I think about it, there's two different situations to consider. One is when the person is an a-hole, and you know they are bad news.
The other is when the person is not necessarily bad, but they are a bad influence. Is that possible?
I feel bad for not liking some folks that are close to friends and family, but when it comes right down to it, I have to trust my intuition. And when I see someone changing (not in a good way) because of the person they are in a relationship with, I have to assume that it is that person that is infuencing their actions.
Whatever. I don't know what to do. I don't want to open my mouth and ruin something that could be good, or damage the relationship I have because of a hunch, but I also don't feel like I'm being honest by pretending that I like the person. Hmmmmm....
And what makes it more difficult is that I was indifferent for so long, and I'm just coming to the realization that it's more than that, it is genuine dislike. Equally for what has been done, as for what hasn't.
November 25, 2006
Family Drama
I hate getting stuck in the middle.
Tommorow: What to do when you dont like someone that your family loves.
Tommorow: What to do when you dont like someone that your family loves.
November 24, 2006
No Shopping Today
Were on our way to Pikeville now, about a 2 hour drive from Lexington. Its a much smaller town but when I think of Ky, this is where I imagine. I dont think I'd ever live here, a bit backwards for my taste, but I do love visiting and having so much family so close by.
Ok, Im feeling a bit sick now. Guess Ill try to write more when were not driving.
Ok, Im feeling a bit sick now. Guess Ill try to write more when were not driving.
November 23, 2006
November 22, 2006
Second Annual "Thank Your First Commenter" Day
So, Citizen of the Month (www.citizenofthemonth.com) has started this whole "Thank Your First Commenter" Day. In honor of this day, I want to thank Teresa, aka TeaPot aka Humpty Dumpty, for her first comment on a post I wrote about a party I had at my house.
Okay, well, technically, she wasn't the first commenter. The first was some spammer guy who said something like "Cool Blog, check out mine at www.........blahblah." But I deleted it. Actually, I had two of those that I deleted, but, whatever.
And now that I look back at the comment, I seem to remember that she posted it waaaay after I wrote it, b/c I was pretty pregnant by then, had maybe even had the baby, and I wrote the blog a couple weeks after I got knocked up. Ooops.
So maybe that wasn't my first. But she still posted the next one after that on ... July 11th, 2006. Hot damn, first comments springing up a whole YEAR after I started blogging. Ain't that a damn shame.
So the first real-time comment was:
Are you serious you put formula in the smashed potatoes? Wow I thought you mgiht have put some other kind of milk in them, if you know what I mean. I hope to hear from you soon, since you never pick up the phone. I sound like you when I say that. :) Tell Taryn and P that I said hello.
Tee-hee-hee. I posted about making mashed potatoes with formula b/c I was out of milk. They were actually pretty good!
Happy Thanksgiving all! I'm off to KY to rediscover my roots!
And thank you Tere for being my first commenter!
(And for taking care of the babies while I'm gone.)
Okay, well, technically, she wasn't the first commenter. The first was some spammer guy who said something like "Cool Blog, check out mine at www.........blahblah." But I deleted it. Actually, I had two of those that I deleted, but, whatever.
And now that I look back at the comment, I seem to remember that she posted it waaaay after I wrote it, b/c I was pretty pregnant by then, had maybe even had the baby, and I wrote the blog a couple weeks after I got knocked up. Ooops.
So maybe that wasn't my first. But she still posted the next one after that on ... July 11th, 2006. Hot damn, first comments springing up a whole YEAR after I started blogging. Ain't that a damn shame.
So the first real-time comment was:
Are you serious you put formula in the smashed potatoes? Wow I thought you mgiht have put some other kind of milk in them, if you know what I mean. I hope to hear from you soon, since you never pick up the phone. I sound like you when I say that. :) Tell Taryn and P that I said hello.
Tee-hee-hee. I posted about making mashed potatoes with formula b/c I was out of milk. They were actually pretty good!
Happy Thanksgiving all! I'm off to KY to rediscover my roots!
And thank you Tere for being my first commenter!
(And for taking care of the babies while I'm gone.)
November 21, 2006
Faux Depth
Just because you post about how you have acheived enlightenment, doesn't really mean it's happened. I mean, really? I can't imagine Ghandi posting a new blog every day about how he is so content with life, and he pities those people who haven't found contentment, and "Stay tuned, because tomorrow I'm talking about ... contentment!"
I'm sorry. I'm not in the mood to bash today, but I am so continually irritated by folks who who have to announce to the world that they are such different people now, that they have overcome so much to be who they now are, and they are starting all anew, as of today. Especially when I know for a fact that there are past issues that haven't been resolved. And it seems to me that if they were "so over" those mistakes they made previously, there really wouldn't be a reason to keep talking about them and how they no longer bother you, right?
Or to keep apologizing for those same mistakes, and to keep promising to make them better, to make it up to those you injured, and in the process to completely destroy any semblance of honesty in yourself because you say the opposite of what you mean, and do the opposite of what you believe. So what's up with that?
And aside from perjuring yourself, because we all know the truth; that you are an insecure, dishonest, con who uses sex to obtain a false sense on intimacy that ultimately drives to you to destroy your own life, the life of your child, the little honor you have left, the small speck of goodness left in you, and after all that is said and done, it corrupts your art.
Ooops, that got a bit personal, didn't it?
Your "art." The one thing that was true and pure and healing that you had, you violated and turned into a public procolmation of lies. And maybe the people that you are around now think it's "so real," and they are probably the same ones who encouraged you to become the withered shell of a person that you now are, Sodom's pillar of lies and saltiness. Is this really who you thought you'd be when we were kids? Is this really the situation you'd dreamed of being in when we would sit around and imagine our futures? When we were both young, and not-so-innocent, but so full of hope and potential...
But I always knew you would be exactly what someone wanted. You don't have a soul anymore. You don't have a core-being. You manipulate yourself into a figment of HIS imagination. You are not a person, you're an image. You are whatever everyone else wants you to be, without respect or regard for the beauty and intelligent and raw talent that you've locked up in a tiny impenetrable box in your heart.
And the worst part is, everyone who knows what you could be, you push away. You've done this to yourself. You revel in agony, and maybe emotionally whoring yourself out is the only way you feel loved.
And for that, I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more before it was too late.
But now. Now all you do is vomit meaningless sentiments onto paper, declaring how you've changed and that all is good and right in your life. But I see through your faux depth to the resounding emptiness in your soul.
You can lie to yourself, you can lie to the people in your life, but I know you too well. And I do have hope that one day you'll recognize in yourself what I've always seen in you. And maybe when you do you'll be able to find true happiness.
And then you'll be able to write the truth.
I'm sorry. I'm not in the mood to bash today, but I am so continually irritated by folks who who have to announce to the world that they are such different people now, that they have overcome so much to be who they now are, and they are starting all anew, as of today. Especially when I know for a fact that there are past issues that haven't been resolved. And it seems to me that if they were "so over" those mistakes they made previously, there really wouldn't be a reason to keep talking about them and how they no longer bother you, right?
Or to keep apologizing for those same mistakes, and to keep promising to make them better, to make it up to those you injured, and in the process to completely destroy any semblance of honesty in yourself because you say the opposite of what you mean, and do the opposite of what you believe. So what's up with that?
And aside from perjuring yourself, because we all know the truth; that you are an insecure, dishonest, con who uses sex to obtain a false sense on intimacy that ultimately drives to you to destroy your own life, the life of your child, the little honor you have left, the small speck of goodness left in you, and after all that is said and done, it corrupts your art.
Ooops, that got a bit personal, didn't it?
Your "art." The one thing that was true and pure and healing that you had, you violated and turned into a public procolmation of lies. And maybe the people that you are around now think it's "so real," and they are probably the same ones who encouraged you to become the withered shell of a person that you now are, Sodom's pillar of lies and saltiness. Is this really who you thought you'd be when we were kids? Is this really the situation you'd dreamed of being in when we would sit around and imagine our futures? When we were both young, and not-so-innocent, but so full of hope and potential...
But I always knew you would be exactly what someone wanted. You don't have a soul anymore. You don't have a core-being. You manipulate yourself into a figment of HIS imagination. You are not a person, you're an image. You are whatever everyone else wants you to be, without respect or regard for the beauty and intelligent and raw talent that you've locked up in a tiny impenetrable box in your heart.
And the worst part is, everyone who knows what you could be, you push away. You've done this to yourself. You revel in agony, and maybe emotionally whoring yourself out is the only way you feel loved.
And for that, I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more before it was too late.
But now. Now all you do is vomit meaningless sentiments onto paper, declaring how you've changed and that all is good and right in your life. But I see through your faux depth to the resounding emptiness in your soul.
You can lie to yourself, you can lie to the people in your life, but I know you too well. And I do have hope that one day you'll recognize in yourself what I've always seen in you. And maybe when you do you'll be able to find true happiness.
And then you'll be able to write the truth.
Just a Little Somethin'
More Taryn
"Aaaaaah, I can hella fit that whole toy in my mouth"
So what if my eyes cross, eh?
"Ain't I just the cutest little Mongolian baby you've ever seen?"
Me and my baby.
Bathtime is getting much more interesting as she gets stronger.
Good Night!
"Aaaaaah, I can hella fit that whole toy in my mouth"
So what if my eyes cross, eh?
"Ain't I just the cutest little Mongolian baby you've ever seen?"
Me and my baby.
Bathtime is getting much more interesting as she gets stronger.
Good Night!
November 20, 2006
Flying
I've never really been afraid of flying, of something going wrong and crashing. Even after 9/11, when I was living in ATL and flying back and forth every month or so, I wasn't scared anythign would happen.
Now, for some reason, I'm feeling some serious anxiety about going with Taryn. Like if something happens and I can't protect her...
But the chances of dying in a plane crash are close to the chances of getting struck by lightening.
I guess I shouldn't worry so much.
Now, for some reason, I'm feeling some serious anxiety about going with Taryn. Like if something happens and I can't protect her...
But the chances of dying in a plane crash are close to the chances of getting struck by lightening.
I guess I shouldn't worry so much.
Month Five
Cheeks!!
As I sit down to write this tonight, I can hear yuou in your crib babbling away to your little stuffed duckie, and the mobile with teh birds and apples on it. Although I love how you can amuse yourself now, so that I can actually get work done during the day, I am having a hell of a time getting you to sleep! I mean, of course you'll be knocked out when I hold you, you'd sleep though a nuclear war as long as you're in my arms, but the minute I put you down in your crib, you are wide awake adn chipper, and ready to play!
You've also mastered rolling over in the past couple weeks, back to front, and front to back, so the old trick of puttin gyou down on your side doesn't really work anymore. I lay you down to sleep, and when you wake up to eat, your body is in a completely different part of the crib. You've also started creeping towards windows, you've got a fascination with being out and about, and I love that I can take you anywhere now without worrying about melt-downs. Which is very good, considering you'll be on your first airplane in a couple days to see your Nonny's family in Kentucky for Thanksgiving.
I just got up to get you. What an interesting feeling that I'm holding you while I type a letter to you at the same time. You smell so sweet, like lavender and milk. Your little head is resting against my chestand you're here swatting at my hands and grunting at Rosco who is sitting a few feet away. You look so cute when you yawn, your eyes scrunched up tight and your little mouth as wide open as it will go. And the wrinkles on your neck like a little old lady are too adorable for works. I especially love when you look up, stretching your neck to see something above or behind you, and with your gums clenched your cheeks pop out and you look like Popeye. Aside from all the drool, of course.
One of my favorite things to do it watch you explore a new toy. The look of rapture on your face reminds me of the simple pleasures in life, and the innate joy in learning. Darling, I wish that you would retain that, that you would treasure life's mysteries and unravel those things that command your attention. When you put your mind to it, even at this young age you are able to accomplish so much!
I love you so much more than I ever thought possible. My sweet Angel.
Love, Mommy
As I sit down to write this tonight, I can hear yuou in your crib babbling away to your little stuffed duckie, and the mobile with teh birds and apples on it. Although I love how you can amuse yourself now, so that I can actually get work done during the day, I am having a hell of a time getting you to sleep! I mean, of course you'll be knocked out when I hold you, you'd sleep though a nuclear war as long as you're in my arms, but the minute I put you down in your crib, you are wide awake adn chipper, and ready to play!
You've also mastered rolling over in the past couple weeks, back to front, and front to back, so the old trick of puttin gyou down on your side doesn't really work anymore. I lay you down to sleep, and when you wake up to eat, your body is in a completely different part of the crib. You've also started creeping towards windows, you've got a fascination with being out and about, and I love that I can take you anywhere now without worrying about melt-downs. Which is very good, considering you'll be on your first airplane in a couple days to see your Nonny's family in Kentucky for Thanksgiving.
I just got up to get you. What an interesting feeling that I'm holding you while I type a letter to you at the same time. You smell so sweet, like lavender and milk. Your little head is resting against my chestand you're here swatting at my hands and grunting at Rosco who is sitting a few feet away. You look so cute when you yawn, your eyes scrunched up tight and your little mouth as wide open as it will go. And the wrinkles on your neck like a little old lady are too adorable for works. I especially love when you look up, stretching your neck to see something above or behind you, and with your gums clenched your cheeks pop out and you look like Popeye. Aside from all the drool, of course.
One of my favorite things to do it watch you explore a new toy. The look of rapture on your face reminds me of the simple pleasures in life, and the innate joy in learning. Darling, I wish that you would retain that, that you would treasure life's mysteries and unravel those things that command your attention. When you put your mind to it, even at this young age you are able to accomplish so much!
I love you so much more than I ever thought possible. My sweet Angel.
Love, Mommy
November 19, 2006
Well, it's After Midnight
And I'm awake, so I may as well post something.
All I can think though, is I'm an asshole.
I never really thought my mom read this blog, and now I have
proof she does (she mentioned the carseat issue in an email...shit).
And I feel like a complete jerk for saying anything remotely neagtive about such an incredible woman, even if I thought it was true in the moment.
What an asshole I am.
All I can think though, is I'm an asshole.
I never really thought my mom read this blog, and now I have
proof she does (she mentioned the carseat issue in an email...shit).
And I feel like a complete jerk for saying anything remotely neagtive about such an incredible woman, even if I thought it was true in the moment.
What an asshole I am.
November 18, 2006
www.taryn.com
Can you believe that's a real website? Dedicated entirely to people named Taryn!
Okay, to be honest, Taryn wasn't my first choice in baby names. I had my heart set on Isabella, but my cousin named her second daughter that, and I didn't want my baby to grow up being "the other Isabella." It just seemed so perfect that P's mom's name is Isabel...
But one day, about a year before I got pregnant, I was thinking how to name my child after family members. I was considering "Paris" for a boy, after my dad, and something-lynn after my mom. And when I made up Terrynn I felt like a supergenius! It sounded so pretty, and unique, and had the emotional connection to her lineage that I was looking for.
Then a girl in one of my psych classes was talking about her sister with the same name, but spelled Tarynn, and I kind of figured that it would be pkay to deviate from the spelling of my mom's name for the kid's sake. So it was Tarynn for a while, because that just looked prettier.
And you know when you're in middle school and you have a crush on someone and you write their name over and over in different handwritings? Or when you open your first checking account and realize your signature looks like a second graders, and you practice signing your own name until it has that unique, yet still pretty, and grown-up look to it? Well yeah, I started doing that to Taryn's name, and I realized my cursive looks like chicken scratch with two n's in a row.
So I ditched one and decided on Taryn Isabella. And I knew that would be my daughter's name, though I was counting on having a boy first so I didn't think much of it until the ultrasound rolled around and the tech said "See those three dots? That's a typical girl for you."
So I had already decided on her name, but P didn't really like it too much, and he said it kind of weird, more like TAR-reign, and I figured it was the accent, so I told him how I wanted it to sound and had him practice and it just wasn't working out.... We shopped around for names more, but I just loved the name Taryn, and though I tried out different names, none compared to hers. But we didn't officially "name" her until the day after she was born.
That's not exactly true. When my babyshower was coming up, and we still hadn't agreed on a name, so I decided to tell everyone the name I picked out. I figured seeing it in writing would make it more real, and hopefully P would agree. We compromised that he could pick the boys' names if I could have this one, and though he said he'd think about it, he never really consented.
So after she was born, they took her from me to NICU, and the subject of her name didn't really come up. P left to get some food, since I hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours, and my brother was in the NICU watching her. I didn't get ahold of my dad right away, and my mom didn't ask, even though she was with me, and of course when we finally got her back from the nurse it was late, and I just had time to nurse her before visiting hours were over and everyone had to leave. P passed out on the chair/bed like he was the one that he'd been in labor for the last 12 hours so it was just me and my baby. I called her Love, Duckie, SweetPea, but never any given name.
So when the nurse came the next day with the birth certificate forms, P and I had a quick discussion.
"So her name's Taryn, right?"
"Sure."
"T-A-R-Y-N?"
"I don't know. Whatever you want."
"Okay, Taryn Isabella sounds nice. What do you think?"
"Sure."
"One L or two?"
"I like Bella (bey-a), it means beautiful, you know? So two."
"Beautiful. Taryn Isabella Caballero."
And that was that.
Okay, to be honest, Taryn wasn't my first choice in baby names. I had my heart set on Isabella, but my cousin named her second daughter that, and I didn't want my baby to grow up being "the other Isabella." It just seemed so perfect that P's mom's name is Isabel...
But one day, about a year before I got pregnant, I was thinking how to name my child after family members. I was considering "Paris" for a boy, after my dad, and something-lynn after my mom. And when I made up Terrynn I felt like a supergenius! It sounded so pretty, and unique, and had the emotional connection to her lineage that I was looking for.
Then a girl in one of my psych classes was talking about her sister with the same name, but spelled Tarynn, and I kind of figured that it would be pkay to deviate from the spelling of my mom's name for the kid's sake. So it was Tarynn for a while, because that just looked prettier.
And you know when you're in middle school and you have a crush on someone and you write their name over and over in different handwritings? Or when you open your first checking account and realize your signature looks like a second graders, and you practice signing your own name until it has that unique, yet still pretty, and grown-up look to it? Well yeah, I started doing that to Taryn's name, and I realized my cursive looks like chicken scratch with two n's in a row.
So I ditched one and decided on Taryn Isabella. And I knew that would be my daughter's name, though I was counting on having a boy first so I didn't think much of it until the ultrasound rolled around and the tech said "See those three dots? That's a typical girl for you."
So I had already decided on her name, but P didn't really like it too much, and he said it kind of weird, more like TAR-reign, and I figured it was the accent, so I told him how I wanted it to sound and had him practice and it just wasn't working out.... We shopped around for names more, but I just loved the name Taryn, and though I tried out different names, none compared to hers. But we didn't officially "name" her until the day after she was born.
That's not exactly true. When my babyshower was coming up, and we still hadn't agreed on a name, so I decided to tell everyone the name I picked out. I figured seeing it in writing would make it more real, and hopefully P would agree. We compromised that he could pick the boys' names if I could have this one, and though he said he'd think about it, he never really consented.
So after she was born, they took her from me to NICU, and the subject of her name didn't really come up. P left to get some food, since I hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours, and my brother was in the NICU watching her. I didn't get ahold of my dad right away, and my mom didn't ask, even though she was with me, and of course when we finally got her back from the nurse it was late, and I just had time to nurse her before visiting hours were over and everyone had to leave. P passed out on the chair/bed like he was the one that he'd been in labor for the last 12 hours so it was just me and my baby. I called her Love, Duckie, SweetPea, but never any given name.
So when the nurse came the next day with the birth certificate forms, P and I had a quick discussion.
"So her name's Taryn, right?"
"Sure."
"T-A-R-Y-N?"
"I don't know. Whatever you want."
"Okay, Taryn Isabella sounds nice. What do you think?"
"Sure."
"One L or two?"
"I like Bella (bey-a), it means beautiful, you know? So two."
"Beautiful. Taryn Isabella Caballero."
And that was that.
November 17, 2006
Ouch!
I pulled a back muscle today.
Wish I could say it was from something good, like rough sex, or skydiving, or.... anything exciting. But I'm a dork. And I did it sitting down on my exercise ball, of all FN things, while I was nursing Taryn.
This sucks.
But what's going to suck even more is if it isn't healed up by the time we fly to KY. 6 hours on a plane with a stiff neck and sore back? Damn...
I'm pretty sure flying with Taryn will suck regardless. She's a sensitive baby, and any changes to her schedule or surroundings can throw her into a hissy-fit. Not that she's a screamer anymore, but the girl fusses like no other, and it breaks my heart to see her so helpless and unhappy.
But anyway.
We're dealing with her carseat too. I'm pretty sure there will be no extra seats on the flight, since we're leaving the day before Thanksgiving, and I want to just stick it in a box and check it as luggage.
Unfortunately, Mom has other ideas. She swears up and down we should bring it on the plane, and let them gate-check it for us. But really, what's the point of that? It's not like she'll be sitting in it in the airport. Or on the plane. Especially because we aren't bringing her stroller. So why even deal with getting it through security?
I hate arguing with that woman. She's so insistent on her own POV, it drives me nuts.
*sigh*
Wish I could say it was from something good, like rough sex, or skydiving, or.... anything exciting. But I'm a dork. And I did it sitting down on my exercise ball, of all FN things, while I was nursing Taryn.
This sucks.
But what's going to suck even more is if it isn't healed up by the time we fly to KY. 6 hours on a plane with a stiff neck and sore back? Damn...
I'm pretty sure flying with Taryn will suck regardless. She's a sensitive baby, and any changes to her schedule or surroundings can throw her into a hissy-fit. Not that she's a screamer anymore, but the girl fusses like no other, and it breaks my heart to see her so helpless and unhappy.
But anyway.
We're dealing with her carseat too. I'm pretty sure there will be no extra seats on the flight, since we're leaving the day before Thanksgiving, and I want to just stick it in a box and check it as luggage.
Unfortunately, Mom has other ideas. She swears up and down we should bring it on the plane, and let them gate-check it for us. But really, what's the point of that? It's not like she'll be sitting in it in the airport. Or on the plane. Especially because we aren't bringing her stroller. So why even deal with getting it through security?
I hate arguing with that woman. She's so insistent on her own POV, it drives me nuts.
*sigh*
November 16, 2006
Yeah, And....
Have I commented yet on how much I love this season's Junior's styles?
Okay, okay, I realize that I am no longer a Junior, in neither age nor size, but... I just don't feel like a Misses yet either.
And though I am rocking a pair of women's H&H jeans (not from the latest spree) the loooong shirts and layers of the season (or maybe last... yeah, they're on clearance now, I'm behind, whatever) are perfect. For two reasons.
One, they disguise this extra little roll I haven't been able to lengthen out in pilates yet.
And two, the layers are the perfect ensemble for nursing in public. Goodbye titty-flash!
And I have no problem buying all my clothes a season behind, if the price is right. And, yesterday, it obviously was.
Okay, okay, I realize that I am no longer a Junior, in neither age nor size, but... I just don't feel like a Misses yet either.
And though I am rocking a pair of women's H&H jeans (not from the latest spree) the loooong shirts and layers of the season (or maybe last... yeah, they're on clearance now, I'm behind, whatever) are perfect. For two reasons.
One, they disguise this extra little roll I haven't been able to lengthen out in pilates yet.
And two, the layers are the perfect ensemble for nursing in public. Goodbye titty-flash!
And I have no problem buying all my clothes a season behind, if the price is right. And, yesterday, it obviously was.
Yet Another Reason
I can't (or shouldn't) be a stay at home mom.
I spent $225 at Mervyn's yesterday.
And $55 earlier that day at Big Lots.
And $210 over the weekend at Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
Do you know the sheer amount of items you'd have to buy at Meryn's to spend that much? Especially when everything is 50% off, plus an extra 15%?
Half of what I spent was a new pair of shoes and my winter jacket.
The rest? 16 items. That's right. I bought Taryn 4 full outfits, 2 pairs of pants, 2 Christmas presents for my nephews, and 6 more shirts for myself.
I love discount shopping.
I spent $225 at Mervyn's yesterday.
And $55 earlier that day at Big Lots.
And $210 over the weekend at Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
Do you know the sheer amount of items you'd have to buy at Meryn's to spend that much? Especially when everything is 50% off, plus an extra 15%?
Half of what I spent was a new pair of shoes and my winter jacket.
The rest? 16 items. That's right. I bought Taryn 4 full outfits, 2 pairs of pants, 2 Christmas presents for my nephews, and 6 more shirts for myself.
I love discount shopping.
November 15, 2006
Addictive Personality
I think I've mentioned before that I'm quite a glutton for pain. Really. I'm very good at suffering. Which is why I don't have an addictive personality at all. I'm quite good at stopping myself from doing things, smoking, drinking, eating, whatever.
The last time I "quit" smoking before I got pregnant, we were just leaving after a 4 day stint in Sin City. I decided that I didn't want to smoke anymore. So I quit.
Not to say that I never had a cigarette after that, but I didn't smoke at all for a year or so, and after that only when I was out drinking. I realized that after stopping for a while, the taste made me want to yarf, so it wasn't too hard to have a puff and pass on the rest.
Same thing with drinking. I've heard a lot of pregnant women say how much they missed alcohol, but I didn't. And I wasn't one of the ones who had a drink once in a while. From the day I found out I was pregnant, I had one small sip of champagne at New Years, and nothing else until a couple months after I gave birth.
I think of exercising too, hiking, even while I was pregnant, to the point of being almost exhausted, but I'd rather push through than stop to rest. It just prolongs the agony.
Doing homework. I'll sit down and write a 20 page paper without taking a break so that I can just get it over with, instead of taking a lame breather, and thinking about the paper the whole time so it's not much a break in the long run.
Ummm, childbirth with no epidural. Need I say more?
So maybe I am addicted to pain? God, that sounds awful, but that seems to be the common thread here. I'm am good at suffering. At getting through the less-fun parts of life as fast as possible so I can get on to bigger and better things. At not asking for help so I can be some sort of martyr in my own mind. At denying myself pleasure for bragging rights?
I am one sick mother.... But at least I can take comfort in the fact that I'm not alone.
I know a lot of people who sabotage themselves and their lives, maybe for the same reason? People who revel in drama to feel like they have a life. Or who get into shitty situations to they don't deal with other things that are happening to them? Hmmmm.
The last time I "quit" smoking before I got pregnant, we were just leaving after a 4 day stint in Sin City. I decided that I didn't want to smoke anymore. So I quit.
Not to say that I never had a cigarette after that, but I didn't smoke at all for a year or so, and after that only when I was out drinking. I realized that after stopping for a while, the taste made me want to yarf, so it wasn't too hard to have a puff and pass on the rest.
Same thing with drinking. I've heard a lot of pregnant women say how much they missed alcohol, but I didn't. And I wasn't one of the ones who had a drink once in a while. From the day I found out I was pregnant, I had one small sip of champagne at New Years, and nothing else until a couple months after I gave birth.
I think of exercising too, hiking, even while I was pregnant, to the point of being almost exhausted, but I'd rather push through than stop to rest. It just prolongs the agony.
Doing homework. I'll sit down and write a 20 page paper without taking a break so that I can just get it over with, instead of taking a lame breather, and thinking about the paper the whole time so it's not much a break in the long run.
Ummm, childbirth with no epidural. Need I say more?
So maybe I am addicted to pain? God, that sounds awful, but that seems to be the common thread here. I'm am good at suffering. At getting through the less-fun parts of life as fast as possible so I can get on to bigger and better things. At not asking for help so I can be some sort of martyr in my own mind. At denying myself pleasure for bragging rights?
I am one sick mother.... But at least I can take comfort in the fact that I'm not alone.
I know a lot of people who sabotage themselves and their lives, maybe for the same reason? People who revel in drama to feel like they have a life. Or who get into shitty situations to they don't deal with other things that are happening to them? Hmmmm.
November 14, 2006
Dreaming of the Beatles
So... I had a really odd dream this morning.
These two girls that I was in Girl Scouts with ... 15 years ago? We all decided to do a concert of Beatles songs. Yeah, I know, wtf? I can only name like 2 songs, and we did do both of them, but I knew a lot of the other ones and kind of just sang along.
But we had a few problems. First, there were only three of us. And none of us knew how to play any instruments. And we didn't have a band. So we had a few people that we knew in the audience play for us, but everyone was too trashed to do it well, so it sounded really aweful. I think everyone in the sold out (yay! lol.) audience was pretty wasted, or else why would they stay so long?
So the worst part was, we were singing this one song that had like 12 verses, but we didn't know what they were. One girl had done some research and knew what each verse meant so we were trying to figure out the words as we went, which was hideous, because we'd sing a line, then stop and have a little pow-wow to figure out what the next line was, sing that, stop again ... you get the point.
So somewhere towards the end of the third verse, I was like, "F-this. If we don't get out shit together, they're all going to leave, and I already spent my part of the proceeds, so I can't refund any tickets." The other two agreed, and right then I heard this little girl screaming for help.
I jumped out of my seat and ran to the back of the stage, through these double doors, and there was a lady on crutches trying to drag this kid away. The little girl was screaming and struggling, and I was running after them but she had a pretty good head start, so I cut through a lobby, and tackled the little girl from the side right before the woman dragged her out of the building. When she saw I had her, the woman just hobbled off on her crutches.
I picked up the girl, who was maybe 4 years old, and carried her to box office part, and kept asking her what her name was, but she wouldn't say a word, she just kept sniffling and clinging to my shirt.
Then I woke up with Taryn's finger up my nose and the other three holding onto my bottom lip. Her hair was soaking wet from my drool ... again ... and she was sucking the shit out of her binkie. Maybe she was dreaming too?
Anyway, I can't figure this one out. The little girl wasn't me, the older woman wasn't me. But if they were? Maybe something about my childhood being stolen? Or my fears I'll rob Taryn of hers? I don't know. But I'd never sell-out a concert promising to sing Beatles songs. No way in hell.
These two girls that I was in Girl Scouts with ... 15 years ago? We all decided to do a concert of Beatles songs. Yeah, I know, wtf? I can only name like 2 songs, and we did do both of them, but I knew a lot of the other ones and kind of just sang along.
But we had a few problems. First, there were only three of us. And none of us knew how to play any instruments. And we didn't have a band. So we had a few people that we knew in the audience play for us, but everyone was too trashed to do it well, so it sounded really aweful. I think everyone in the sold out (yay! lol.) audience was pretty wasted, or else why would they stay so long?
So the worst part was, we were singing this one song that had like 12 verses, but we didn't know what they were. One girl had done some research and knew what each verse meant so we were trying to figure out the words as we went, which was hideous, because we'd sing a line, then stop and have a little pow-wow to figure out what the next line was, sing that, stop again ... you get the point.
So somewhere towards the end of the third verse, I was like, "F-this. If we don't get out shit together, they're all going to leave, and I already spent my part of the proceeds, so I can't refund any tickets." The other two agreed, and right then I heard this little girl screaming for help.
I jumped out of my seat and ran to the back of the stage, through these double doors, and there was a lady on crutches trying to drag this kid away. The little girl was screaming and struggling, and I was running after them but she had a pretty good head start, so I cut through a lobby, and tackled the little girl from the side right before the woman dragged her out of the building. When she saw I had her, the woman just hobbled off on her crutches.
I picked up the girl, who was maybe 4 years old, and carried her to box office part, and kept asking her what her name was, but she wouldn't say a word, she just kept sniffling and clinging to my shirt.
Then I woke up with Taryn's finger up my nose and the other three holding onto my bottom lip. Her hair was soaking wet from my drool ... again ... and she was sucking the shit out of her binkie. Maybe she was dreaming too?
Anyway, I can't figure this one out. The little girl wasn't me, the older woman wasn't me. But if they were? Maybe something about my childhood being stolen? Or my fears I'll rob Taryn of hers? I don't know. But I'd never sell-out a concert promising to sing Beatles songs. No way in hell.
November 13, 2006
Being "Good" Takes Effort
For me at least.
I've always admired those people who seem to be genuinely nice, those people who hold open doors for you, and say "please" and "thank you" without a second thought.
Now, I consider myself super-consciencious. When I see something that can be done to help someone else, I do it without asking, and without expecting anything in return, but although I am constantly helping others, I also get really frustrated with people who seem oblivious to the rest of the world.
Like people who park in the middle of two parking spaces at Trader Joes.
Or the B who ran over my heels three flippin' times in a row at BB&B the other day.
People like that irk me to no end, and it's not because they do stupid things, it's because they do stupid things with no regard for anyone else. I don't care if you're going to drive 90 mph on the freeway at 4am when it's mostly empty, but don't even think about it when I'm driving my daughter somewhere.
Anyway, my point is, it takes alot of effort on my part to not let those kinds of people ruin my day. And I don't know why it pisses me off so much, I know it's not personal, but I don't get why some folks just think they can do whatever they want and not think about who they might be affecting.
And I know I do dumb shyte sometimes, and I know that in a lot of situations I have to really watch what I say and do so that I don't piss off other people, but I do it. And if I can, you should be able to also.
I've always admired those people who seem to be genuinely nice, those people who hold open doors for you, and say "please" and "thank you" without a second thought.
Now, I consider myself super-consciencious. When I see something that can be done to help someone else, I do it without asking, and without expecting anything in return, but although I am constantly helping others, I also get really frustrated with people who seem oblivious to the rest of the world.
Like people who park in the middle of two parking spaces at Trader Joes.
Or the B who ran over my heels three flippin' times in a row at BB&B the other day.
People like that irk me to no end, and it's not because they do stupid things, it's because they do stupid things with no regard for anyone else. I don't care if you're going to drive 90 mph on the freeway at 4am when it's mostly empty, but don't even think about it when I'm driving my daughter somewhere.
Anyway, my point is, it takes alot of effort on my part to not let those kinds of people ruin my day. And I don't know why it pisses me off so much, I know it's not personal, but I don't get why some folks just think they can do whatever they want and not think about who they might be affecting.
And I know I do dumb shyte sometimes, and I know that in a lot of situations I have to really watch what I say and do so that I don't piss off other people, but I do it. And if I can, you should be able to also.
November 12, 2006
I Know, I'm a Dork
I sent out a few emails yesterday to some fellow bloggers whose blogs I read regularly. I'd never had a blogroll before, and I wasn't really sure if you just link to people, or you need to get permission first, or what. Seems to me it's the polite thing to do, to at least let someone know that you're associating them with your own blog, but I guess no such etiquette exists. Still, they were all really nice in their replies, and I'm sure they think I'm a dork. Well, I am, no worries.
In other news, I updated my page too. I finally went over to Beta, so I figured a less-dark theme might get my crappy mood out of the gutter, at least for a little bit, so maybe I'll find something amusing to write in the coming weeks.
I really thought this NaBloPoMo thing would be a lot harder, but I love to write, regardless of if I'm good at it or not, and I think that when this ends, I will really try to keep posting daily. I'm sure it won't happen, especially without the added incentives, but I'm getting in the habit of making time, and I'll be off work for a while longer, so hopefully I can keep it up.
Oh, we went shopping at Bed, Bath, and Beyond yesterday. I picked up a lot of Christmas presents, a carpet for the bedroom, a new little cordelss sweeper, a Van Gough print, just a lot of stuff I was wanting and too broke to get. But I saved $87 with Erika's coupon, so I'm stoked. It's so much easier to get presents when you have no money, and everyone knows you have no money, so it really goes with the thought, not the price of the gift. And we got our new garbage can! It's so pretty, red steel, semi-circle... I love it.
In other news, I updated my page too. I finally went over to Beta, so I figured a less-dark theme might get my crappy mood out of the gutter, at least for a little bit, so maybe I'll find something amusing to write in the coming weeks.
I really thought this NaBloPoMo thing would be a lot harder, but I love to write, regardless of if I'm good at it or not, and I think that when this ends, I will really try to keep posting daily. I'm sure it won't happen, especially without the added incentives, but I'm getting in the habit of making time, and I'll be off work for a while longer, so hopefully I can keep it up.
Oh, we went shopping at Bed, Bath, and Beyond yesterday. I picked up a lot of Christmas presents, a carpet for the bedroom, a new little cordelss sweeper, a Van Gough print, just a lot of stuff I was wanting and too broke to get. But I saved $87 with Erika's coupon, so I'm stoked. It's so much easier to get presents when you have no money, and everyone knows you have no money, so it really goes with the thought, not the price of the gift. And we got our new garbage can! It's so pretty, red steel, semi-circle... I love it.
November 11, 2006
Even if I Could ... Would I?
I have been having this internal arguement with myself for the past few months, and the answer I keep coming up with is haunting me.
When I was in high school, I had no aspirations of a dream career in which I would throw my entire being and have a burning passion to pursue at all costs. Sure, I went through the typical phases, wanting to be a lawyer, dreams of being a doctor, but those were all shattered when I decided I wanted to be an astronaut.
I was serious about it. I took Honors Chemistry and was planning on physics my Senior year of high school. I took the military aptitude test and scored very high, so my plan was to do my time in the Air Force, become a pilot, then move my way over to Nasa. My Junior year I applied, and won, an internship with NASA, one of the greatest accomplishments of my life at that time, but one in which I was later sorely disappointed. After only a few weeks of work, I decided that although I loved the idea of being an astronaut, I would never be able to work with "those people" for the rest of my life. So I gave up.
And I really had very little ambition after that. I figured I would go to college, because that was what was expected, and I didn't want to work at Mervyn's the rest of my life. But what I really wanted to do was get married and have kids. I set a goal for myself, so that I wouldn't regret having kids young that as soon as I was married, had my degree, and bought a house, I'd have a baby.
I was married at 18, March 15th, 2002.
I bought my house at 21, July 30th, 2004.
I graduated from college at 21 also, December 18th, 2004.
And I got pregnant when I was 22, October 14th, 2005.
But of course, by then I had moved into a job that I really love. And financially, it isn't possible for me to be a stay-at-home mom to Taryn, but it kills me to think that even if I could do it, if it was a possibility, I don't know if I would.
I can't imagine giving up my job to stay home, and cook, and clean, and take care of the baby. I can't imagine not having the opportunity to meet new people on a daily basis, or not having the opportunity to cultivate relationships with my coworkers. I can't imagine not using my degree after I worked so hard to earn it, or the day when my kids are all in school and I am left with no relevant work experience and have to start all over again at the bottom and work my way up.
And I also can't fathom why all of a sudden, I am so dedicated to my "career" when I'd never really wanted one to begin with.
The more I process it, I realize that life would not be as dreary as I make it out to be, if I were at home all day long, and I also understand that nobody wishes they had worked more, but rather that they had spent more time with loved ones. But my life outside of my home is very important to me, and though I treasure this time I have with Taryn while she is a baby, I am also looking forward to working again and having a sense of purpose in my life, aside from caring for her.
If I could stay home for the first year, I would. But if it was between staying home until she was in Kindergarten and going back to work after 6.5 months, I'd have to start looking for daycare.
I do have reationalizations for it.
I truly believe that children after a certain age need to interact with other kids daily, in order to build social skills, to build up their immunities, and to see in general that there is a world outside of their home.
I also believe that mothers, in order to be effective need a lot of support, and I also know that I am not good at seeking out that support on my own, and that I would probably fall into a much deeper depression if I wasn't forced to interact with people daily.
That's all. And for me, those two reasons, coupled with the fact that I am the main bread-winner in this family, makes me believe that I am doing an okay thing by going back to work. It's going to be heart-wrenching to drop her off and head to work. It's going to be even more painful when I have to hear second-hand that she said her first word, or took her first step, but instead of focusing on that I'll just need to make the most out of every second that she and I have together, and hopefully our bond will be that much stronger because I won't take having her around for granted, like I've begun to do the past couple months.
And I guess, as long as she knows that I love her with all my heart, and that I'm doing what I think is best for both of us, things can't go too wrong, right?
When I was in high school, I had no aspirations of a dream career in which I would throw my entire being and have a burning passion to pursue at all costs. Sure, I went through the typical phases, wanting to be a lawyer, dreams of being a doctor, but those were all shattered when I decided I wanted to be an astronaut.
I was serious about it. I took Honors Chemistry and was planning on physics my Senior year of high school. I took the military aptitude test and scored very high, so my plan was to do my time in the Air Force, become a pilot, then move my way over to Nasa. My Junior year I applied, and won, an internship with NASA, one of the greatest accomplishments of my life at that time, but one in which I was later sorely disappointed. After only a few weeks of work, I decided that although I loved the idea of being an astronaut, I would never be able to work with "those people" for the rest of my life. So I gave up.
And I really had very little ambition after that. I figured I would go to college, because that was what was expected, and I didn't want to work at Mervyn's the rest of my life. But what I really wanted to do was get married and have kids. I set a goal for myself, so that I wouldn't regret having kids young that as soon as I was married, had my degree, and bought a house, I'd have a baby.
I was married at 18, March 15th, 2002.
I bought my house at 21, July 30th, 2004.
I graduated from college at 21 also, December 18th, 2004.
And I got pregnant when I was 22, October 14th, 2005.
But of course, by then I had moved into a job that I really love. And financially, it isn't possible for me to be a stay-at-home mom to Taryn, but it kills me to think that even if I could do it, if it was a possibility, I don't know if I would.
I can't imagine giving up my job to stay home, and cook, and clean, and take care of the baby. I can't imagine not having the opportunity to meet new people on a daily basis, or not having the opportunity to cultivate relationships with my coworkers. I can't imagine not using my degree after I worked so hard to earn it, or the day when my kids are all in school and I am left with no relevant work experience and have to start all over again at the bottom and work my way up.
And I also can't fathom why all of a sudden, I am so dedicated to my "career" when I'd never really wanted one to begin with.
The more I process it, I realize that life would not be as dreary as I make it out to be, if I were at home all day long, and I also understand that nobody wishes they had worked more, but rather that they had spent more time with loved ones. But my life outside of my home is very important to me, and though I treasure this time I have with Taryn while she is a baby, I am also looking forward to working again and having a sense of purpose in my life, aside from caring for her.
If I could stay home for the first year, I would. But if it was between staying home until she was in Kindergarten and going back to work after 6.5 months, I'd have to start looking for daycare.
I do have reationalizations for it.
I truly believe that children after a certain age need to interact with other kids daily, in order to build social skills, to build up their immunities, and to see in general that there is a world outside of their home.
I also believe that mothers, in order to be effective need a lot of support, and I also know that I am not good at seeking out that support on my own, and that I would probably fall into a much deeper depression if I wasn't forced to interact with people daily.
That's all. And for me, those two reasons, coupled with the fact that I am the main bread-winner in this family, makes me believe that I am doing an okay thing by going back to work. It's going to be heart-wrenching to drop her off and head to work. It's going to be even more painful when I have to hear second-hand that she said her first word, or took her first step, but instead of focusing on that I'll just need to make the most out of every second that she and I have together, and hopefully our bond will be that much stronger because I won't take having her around for granted, like I've begun to do the past couple months.
And I guess, as long as she knows that I love her with all my heart, and that I'm doing what I think is best for both of us, things can't go too wrong, right?
November 10, 2006
That Lame Pilates Post?
I really ass did send that on Tuesday night before the computer was fixed.
Damn Blogger.
Like Teapot/Humpy Dumpty said, "Good thing you're OCD."
For Real.
Damn Blogger.
Like Teapot/Humpy Dumpty said, "Good thing you're OCD."
For Real.
shed kick my ass in pilates
taryn has been trying to roll over for the past few
days now. she hasnt done it yet, but shes getting
really close. the way shes been trying is by lifting
her legs straight up, crossed at the ankles, then
swinging them to the side and trying to use momentum
to roll over. and while i was watching her i realized
that her abs are stronger than mine! i could never do
as many leg lifts as she can and ive been exercising
longer than shes been alive...
November 9, 2006
If You Haven't Noticed....
I have serious issues with people telling me what to do.
Even "friendly suggestions" irritate me when people tell me more than once. Isn't it obvious, if I didn't do it the first time, I don't want to?
I think I have more serious issues with my mom telling me stuff. Like today, when she came over to watch the baby I was having a bit of trouble pumping (I know, TMFI, but look, my let-down is pretty much non-existent when I'm pumping, maybe because it's just so so sooooo weird of a sensation, and with the sound of the pump.... it just doesn't work well for me unless Taryn nurses and gets the milk flowing).
So anyway, she mentioned that maybe she'll have to give Taryn some formula today, and I kind of just shrugged it off with a flippant comment something like, "She's going to starve before I give her formula," which, may I mention, I have said before.
Because the thing is, it's not that I'm entirely opposed to formula, I've actually been considering it at night to help her sleep a bit longer if the cereal doesn't work, but look.
First off, my baby is not getting formula unless I make the decision.
Second, I have milk frozen for a reason, exactly because I don't want to give her formula right now.
Third, I'm stubborn, and I want to exclusively breastfeed as long as possible and not fuck around with the supply issue unless it's absolutely necessary.
Fourth, I'm cheap. I mean frugal. But I'm not going to open an $8 can of formula to feed her once and toss the rest because it doesn't get used.
Fifth, you've already said that I need to give her formula, or at least have it available for when you watch her, but when it comes right down to it...
I DON'T FN WANT TO
And here's the rub, I wonder if I don't want to simply because everyone and their mother (including mine) keeps suggesting that I give her formula, and I'm stubborn, and I want to do it my way, and I'm the only one suffering here, so why can't I do it how I want? I mean, babies have lived for the last howevermanyyears without it, so why does mine need it now?
But more importantly, when I tell someone I don't want to do something, why do they keep bringing it up??? I know I can be wishy-washy sometimes, but really?
Even "friendly suggestions" irritate me when people tell me more than once. Isn't it obvious, if I didn't do it the first time, I don't want to?
I think I have more serious issues with my mom telling me stuff. Like today, when she came over to watch the baby I was having a bit of trouble pumping (I know, TMFI, but look, my let-down is pretty much non-existent when I'm pumping, maybe because it's just so so sooooo weird of a sensation, and with the sound of the pump.... it just doesn't work well for me unless Taryn nurses and gets the milk flowing).
So anyway, she mentioned that maybe she'll have to give Taryn some formula today, and I kind of just shrugged it off with a flippant comment something like, "She's going to starve before I give her formula," which, may I mention, I have said before.
Because the thing is, it's not that I'm entirely opposed to formula, I've actually been considering it at night to help her sleep a bit longer if the cereal doesn't work, but look.
First off, my baby is not getting formula unless I make the decision.
Second, I have milk frozen for a reason, exactly because I don't want to give her formula right now.
Third, I'm stubborn, and I want to exclusively breastfeed as long as possible and not fuck around with the supply issue unless it's absolutely necessary.
Fourth, I'm cheap. I mean frugal. But I'm not going to open an $8 can of formula to feed her once and toss the rest because it doesn't get used.
Fifth, you've already said that I need to give her formula, or at least have it available for when you watch her, but when it comes right down to it...
I DON'T FN WANT TO
And here's the rub, I wonder if I don't want to simply because everyone and their mother (including mine) keeps suggesting that I give her formula, and I'm stubborn, and I want to do it my way, and I'm the only one suffering here, so why can't I do it how I want? I mean, babies have lived for the last howevermanyyears without it, so why does mine need it now?
But more importantly, when I tell someone I don't want to do something, why do they keep bringing it up??? I know I can be wishy-washy sometimes, but really?
November 8, 2006
Frugal Foodie
Food is one of those things that I *always* have money for. Those cute little asterisks? I'll only spend money that I don't have on really yummy food.
You know, for celebrations and the such, I can't think of a better way to hang out, catch up, and get your grub on than hitting up a fancy joint and paying a $600 bill. Seriously. But if I can't afford The Melting Pot, or Pasha's or TJ's Matini Bar, or just don't have an excuse to go, here's my favorite spots to chow down in Marin, for under $10.
1. Ping's (San Rafael, near Office Depot). Absoulutely de-lish Chinese food. And their lunch specials give you a massive amount of food (I'm talking roll-me-out-the-door-I'm-so-damn-full, plus leftovers), which was of course the best when I was preggo and needed to eat every hour or so. It's especially good if you catch it on the right day, Fridays, I think, and you get those little crab puff things and hot and sour soup. Yum! Also, unlike a lot of Chinese places, you can get rice or chow mein with your food. Plus, the waiters are always super-nice, and the food is fast, perfect for lunch breaks.
2. Sonoma Taco (Terra Linda, near Safeway). I love this place. Not only is the food healthy, they give you a good portion without making you feel too full, perfect if you're not trying to pack on the pounds. The tortas are so FN good, I'd sell my soul for a lifetime supply ... actually, pretty much everything is damn delactable. And I love the salsa bar so much I could make a meal out of just that. Only downside, some of the cooks are ... creepy. But they have Jarritos, which only sucks if you try to bring it back to work un-opened, and don't have a bottle opened. Oops.
3. Jhan Thong (Northgate mall). Okay, so I know, mall food? But this place is Thai, and it's close to the best I've had. The lunch special gives you three choices, and even though I'm digging most of the extensive menu, I pretty much always order the same thing: pad thai, noodle salad, and ginger chicken. Everyone who works there is super-nice, and the make your food fresh off the menu, so you might wait a bit, but it's not stale and greasy like a lot of other places that just scoop and serve. And for less than $7 I ususally have leftovers, obviously a plus in my book. Even the ice water is freshly poured and served. Quality, see?
4. In-n-Out (Tiburon? I don't know, but right off the freeway). I'm not a huge fan of fast food, in fact, I probably eat it maybe once every few months by choice (besides pizza, but that's another story). But this place is super-yummy, if not a bit far from my house. I'm not a huge fan of the fries, they are a bit too all-natural tasting for me, but if I'm stranded on a desert island and have to eat one meal for the rest of my life? Cheeseburgers (animal sytle) and the strewberry shake from this place would let me die happy.
5. Pasta Pomodoro (Novato and San Rafael). I love Italian food, and this place may or may not be real Italian, but it's good. I'm digging the garlic cream sauces (like on the Rigatoni) and they give you a lot of meat and veggies in your pasta, not just noodles like some other places. Plus, if you're really broke you could actually split a plate and fill up on the free bread, it's enough food. I haven't had any baked pasta dishes, but I've seen them and the look fantastic, I'm just so in love with the two pasta dishes with chicken, muchrooms and that cream sauce I haven't been able to order anything else. Plus, the waiters are generally pretty nice, except the time they prepared fettuccine with "crutons" instead of prawns.
Dim-witted youngin'.
6. Original Buffalo Wings (Novato and San Rafael). Okay, I know a lot of people don't like this place, but let me break it down for you. The cheesesteaks are pretty decent, the best I've been able to find in California besides a little place in Santa Monica that P and I ate at every day (sometimes twice a day) on our honeymoon. Yes, I've been to Philly and had a few real ones, and nothing compares, but these are close enough to satiate my desire since I can't afford to go back to get the real thing. Also, the sauce on the wings is damn good too, nice and hot, though I admit the wings are some dinky little pieces of nothing that would get you shot in Atlanta. But you can get the sauce by itself, and cooking it at home with your own chicken is a good option to make a little go a long way. Plus, the guys always give me extra wings without being too nasty about it. Always appreciated.
So there you go. Know any other good places in Marin? Let me know, I'm always looking to add to my list of favorites.
You know, for celebrations and the such, I can't think of a better way to hang out, catch up, and get your grub on than hitting up a fancy joint and paying a $600 bill. Seriously. But if I can't afford The Melting Pot, or Pasha's or TJ's Matini Bar, or just don't have an excuse to go, here's my favorite spots to chow down in Marin, for under $10.
1. Ping's (San Rafael, near Office Depot). Absoulutely de-lish Chinese food. And their lunch specials give you a massive amount of food (I'm talking roll-me-out-the-door-I'm-so-damn-full, plus leftovers), which was of course the best when I was preggo and needed to eat every hour or so. It's especially good if you catch it on the right day, Fridays, I think, and you get those little crab puff things and hot and sour soup. Yum! Also, unlike a lot of Chinese places, you can get rice or chow mein with your food. Plus, the waiters are always super-nice, and the food is fast, perfect for lunch breaks.
2. Sonoma Taco (Terra Linda, near Safeway). I love this place. Not only is the food healthy, they give you a good portion without making you feel too full, perfect if you're not trying to pack on the pounds. The tortas are so FN good, I'd sell my soul for a lifetime supply ... actually, pretty much everything is damn delactable. And I love the salsa bar so much I could make a meal out of just that. Only downside, some of the cooks are ... creepy. But they have Jarritos, which only sucks if you try to bring it back to work un-opened, and don't have a bottle opened. Oops.
3. Jhan Thong (Northgate mall). Okay, so I know, mall food? But this place is Thai, and it's close to the best I've had. The lunch special gives you three choices, and even though I'm digging most of the extensive menu, I pretty much always order the same thing: pad thai, noodle salad, and ginger chicken. Everyone who works there is super-nice, and the make your food fresh off the menu, so you might wait a bit, but it's not stale and greasy like a lot of other places that just scoop and serve. And for less than $7 I ususally have leftovers, obviously a plus in my book. Even the ice water is freshly poured and served. Quality, see?
4. In-n-Out (Tiburon? I don't know, but right off the freeway). I'm not a huge fan of fast food, in fact, I probably eat it maybe once every few months by choice (besides pizza, but that's another story). But this place is super-yummy, if not a bit far from my house. I'm not a huge fan of the fries, they are a bit too all-natural tasting for me, but if I'm stranded on a desert island and have to eat one meal for the rest of my life? Cheeseburgers (animal sytle) and the strewberry shake from this place would let me die happy.
5. Pasta Pomodoro (Novato and San Rafael). I love Italian food, and this place may or may not be real Italian, but it's good. I'm digging the garlic cream sauces (like on the Rigatoni) and they give you a lot of meat and veggies in your pasta, not just noodles like some other places. Plus, if you're really broke you could actually split a plate and fill up on the free bread, it's enough food. I haven't had any baked pasta dishes, but I've seen them and the look fantastic, I'm just so in love with the two pasta dishes with chicken, muchrooms and that cream sauce I haven't been able to order anything else. Plus, the waiters are generally pretty nice, except the time they prepared fettuccine with "crutons" instead of prawns.
Dim-witted youngin'.
6. Original Buffalo Wings (Novato and San Rafael). Okay, I know a lot of people don't like this place, but let me break it down for you. The cheesesteaks are pretty decent, the best I've been able to find in California besides a little place in Santa Monica that P and I ate at every day (sometimes twice a day) on our honeymoon. Yes, I've been to Philly and had a few real ones, and nothing compares, but these are close enough to satiate my desire since I can't afford to go back to get the real thing. Also, the sauce on the wings is damn good too, nice and hot, though I admit the wings are some dinky little pieces of nothing that would get you shot in Atlanta. But you can get the sauce by itself, and cooking it at home with your own chicken is a good option to make a little go a long way. Plus, the guys always give me extra wings without being too nasty about it. Always appreciated.
So there you go. Know any other good places in Marin? Let me know, I'm always looking to add to my list of favorites.
November 7, 2006
I Knew This Was a TEST!!
And I passed damnit!
I sent a blog from my phone, nothing fancy, but the mess didn't post and I'm not sure why. But Yay! My 'puter is working again, and this is just proof again that I need my own machine, I don't care how old or decrepit, just one P can't mess with.
Man, I was stressed that I was going to miss today...
I sent a blog from my phone, nothing fancy, but the mess didn't post and I'm not sure why. But Yay! My 'puter is working again, and this is just proof again that I need my own machine, I don't care how old or decrepit, just one P can't mess with.
Man, I was stressed that I was going to miss today...
November 6, 2006
damn puter
so just to explain why the lame post tonight, p said a
piece of the motherboard melted and now the computer
is jacked. hope this isnt the end of nablopomo for me.
ill try my damnest to post from my phone, well see how
it goes.
November 5, 2006
More Lessons from the Trenches
1. Johnson's baby products (the pink ones) are too harsh for a baby's skin. They smell good, but all the frangrance and dyes in it dried out Taryn's skin and make her flake for weeks.
2. Baby laundry soap doesn't work. It doesn't get spit-up or poop out of the clothes, and it's super expensive. Better to just put the clothes through an extra rinse cycle and use Tide.
3. Babies are not made to sleep in complete silence. Taryn sleeps much better when we have a lot of people over and are making noise, she even sleeps through the puppies barking if there are other background sounds.
4. Changing tables are essential. Especially when your back spasms when you bend over from carrying the baby around for hours.
5. Medicine balls are also a God-send. They calm, they soothe, the put to sleep, and then when you have free time, you can use it to work off some of that belly roll.
6. Teethers that don't have a handle for the baby to hold onto are pretty much useless. Taryn hates the ice-cold feel of frozen water, and won't hold it to use it, and honestly, I don't like the feel much either.
7. It is possuble to hold an infant and pee (and wipe!) at the same time.
8. Milk leaks at all times of the day. Be prepared.
9. Bassinettes are not a waste of money. We can bring Taryn anywhere, anytime, and she sleeps fine in a strange place when she has her bassinette.
10. Baby socks can double as mittens on a cold day, or to keep her from scratching her face and gouging out her eyes.
2. Baby laundry soap doesn't work. It doesn't get spit-up or poop out of the clothes, and it's super expensive. Better to just put the clothes through an extra rinse cycle and use Tide.
3. Babies are not made to sleep in complete silence. Taryn sleeps much better when we have a lot of people over and are making noise, she even sleeps through the puppies barking if there are other background sounds.
4. Changing tables are essential. Especially when your back spasms when you bend over from carrying the baby around for hours.
5. Medicine balls are also a God-send. They calm, they soothe, the put to sleep, and then when you have free time, you can use it to work off some of that belly roll.
6. Teethers that don't have a handle for the baby to hold onto are pretty much useless. Taryn hates the ice-cold feel of frozen water, and won't hold it to use it, and honestly, I don't like the feel much either.
7. It is possuble to hold an infant and pee (and wipe!) at the same time.
8. Milk leaks at all times of the day. Be prepared.
9. Bassinettes are not a waste of money. We can bring Taryn anywhere, anytime, and she sleeps fine in a strange place when she has her bassinette.
10. Baby socks can double as mittens on a cold day, or to keep her from scratching her face and gouging out her eyes.
November 4, 2006
Head Case
The family spent the night over at T & B's yesterday. We had originally gone over to help prepare for Erika's party, catch up a bit since we all seem to be so busy lately, and (my job) to provide entertainment and company while T made the cake.
I made some de-lish Sangria, a recipe I came up with from blending a few I saw online, and we ended up drinking about 3.5 liters of wine between 4 of us, not to mention the boys were drinking beers, so we all ended up getting nice and toasted.
Taryn, amazingly adaptable and born-to-be-a-party-animal, slept like a rock through everything, including Clara's karaoke rendition of a few R Kelly songs and the boys yelling and locking each other in the bathroom. She is so good when we take her out, all snuggled up in her bassinette, and she sleeps longer when we are out than she does at the house. I pumped, but only ended up using one bottle because she slept in 4 hour stretches all night long.**
Tee-hee-hee. When the boys went to get the pizza, T and I chugged their beers and filled them up with olive oil. Brandon's face when he took a swig was priceless.
So back to the Head Case.
Taryn and I slept on the couch, which was pretty comfy, but a touch narrow. So when I woke up at 7-ish, I decided to go home and sleep in my own bed for a bit, because the real birthday party is tonight, and I needed to rest up for another round. I kicked P, who had passed out on the floor behind the couch and asked him if he wanted to come with me, or stay and sleep there. His drunk reply was a garbled "stay" so I grabbed the baby and headed home. About an hour and a half later he called, but I was comfy and figured if I didn't answer he'd just go back to sleep, and I could pick him up around 10 to come home and shower.
At close to 10, when the baby finally woke up (another wonderful thing she does when we've been up late, she seems to know we need to sleep and doesn't get up at the ass-crack of dawn like normal) the dogs start barking and I hear P clomping up the stairs. I assumed B had given him a ride home, but no.
He said he walked.
Now, of course I assumed he was kidding, we had been discussing the night before how long it would take to walk from their place to ours and figured maybe 2 hours. I checked my phone and calculated he had called about 1.5 hours before, and started congratulating him on his good time, feeling a bit guilty I didn't answer the phone when he called.
He said he walked outside to call me because he didn't remember me leaving, but when he closed the door, he got locked out. Instead of a normal person ringing the bell to get back in, he decides to walk to McDonald's to get breakfast. That's a good 20 minutes away, on foot. Evidently while walking there, he saw Will coming back from McD's and stopped to talk to him, shared a cheeseburger, and noticed that SueBob was following him in the shoebox (another story completely).
So again, instead of a normal person asking for a ride home, P continues to McD's gets a couple more burgers and camps out at the bus stop to get home.
If he had called, I could have gone to get him, but the message he leaves is, "I dont know where you went, call me back. Besas."
So an hour and a half later, he gets to the house after seriously walking almost half-way home, kicks off his shoes and gets into bed. Doesn't complain, just relates his travels for the day, plays with the baby a bit, and then drifts off to sleep.
What a weirdo. A genuine Head Case.
** Just as a note, if you know me it is already clear that Taryn is my #1 priority at all times. When we bring her to a party, it is so that we don't get tempted to drive drunk to get home to her at night. And I always make sure that I don't drink too much when she's with us, so that I always able to respond to her needs. I carry her monitor with me all the time, I pump milk beforehand so she doesn't get alcohol or tobacco in her system, and I don't let P sleep in the bed with us if he's been drinking, since he's such a heavy sleeper anyway. This might be a long-winded explanation, but I don't want anyone for even a second to think that we would put her in danger so that we could party.
I made some de-lish Sangria, a recipe I came up with from blending a few I saw online, and we ended up drinking about 3.5 liters of wine between 4 of us, not to mention the boys were drinking beers, so we all ended up getting nice and toasted.
Taryn, amazingly adaptable and born-to-be-a-party-animal, slept like a rock through everything, including Clara's karaoke rendition of a few R Kelly songs and the boys yelling and locking each other in the bathroom. She is so good when we take her out, all snuggled up in her bassinette, and she sleeps longer when we are out than she does at the house. I pumped, but only ended up using one bottle because she slept in 4 hour stretches all night long.**
Tee-hee-hee. When the boys went to get the pizza, T and I chugged their beers and filled them up with olive oil. Brandon's face when he took a swig was priceless.
So back to the Head Case.
Taryn and I slept on the couch, which was pretty comfy, but a touch narrow. So when I woke up at 7-ish, I decided to go home and sleep in my own bed for a bit, because the real birthday party is tonight, and I needed to rest up for another round. I kicked P, who had passed out on the floor behind the couch and asked him if he wanted to come with me, or stay and sleep there. His drunk reply was a garbled "stay" so I grabbed the baby and headed home. About an hour and a half later he called, but I was comfy and figured if I didn't answer he'd just go back to sleep, and I could pick him up around 10 to come home and shower.
At close to 10, when the baby finally woke up (another wonderful thing she does when we've been up late, she seems to know we need to sleep and doesn't get up at the ass-crack of dawn like normal) the dogs start barking and I hear P clomping up the stairs. I assumed B had given him a ride home, but no.
He said he walked.
Now, of course I assumed he was kidding, we had been discussing the night before how long it would take to walk from their place to ours and figured maybe 2 hours. I checked my phone and calculated he had called about 1.5 hours before, and started congratulating him on his good time, feeling a bit guilty I didn't answer the phone when he called.
He said he walked outside to call me because he didn't remember me leaving, but when he closed the door, he got locked out. Instead of a normal person ringing the bell to get back in, he decides to walk to McDonald's to get breakfast. That's a good 20 minutes away, on foot. Evidently while walking there, he saw Will coming back from McD's and stopped to talk to him, shared a cheeseburger, and noticed that SueBob was following him in the shoebox (another story completely).
So again, instead of a normal person asking for a ride home, P continues to McD's gets a couple more burgers and camps out at the bus stop to get home.
If he had called, I could have gone to get him, but the message he leaves is, "I dont know where you went, call me back. Besas."
So an hour and a half later, he gets to the house after seriously walking almost half-way home, kicks off his shoes and gets into bed. Doesn't complain, just relates his travels for the day, plays with the baby a bit, and then drifts off to sleep.
What a weirdo. A genuine Head Case.
** Just as a note, if you know me it is already clear that Taryn is my #1 priority at all times. When we bring her to a party, it is so that we don't get tempted to drive drunk to get home to her at night. And I always make sure that I don't drink too much when she's with us, so that I always able to respond to her needs. I carry her monitor with me all the time, I pump milk beforehand so she doesn't get alcohol or tobacco in her system, and I don't let P sleep in the bed with us if he's been drinking, since he's such a heavy sleeper anyway. This might be a long-winded explanation, but I don't want anyone for even a second to think that we would put her in danger so that we could party.
November 3, 2006
"Ma'am, Please Calm Down...."
I hate being handled. You know when someone is trying to get you to do the opposite of what you want to do? It's so much more than simple manipulation, because then, they just try to get you to do what they want you to do.
Oh no, "handling" is so much worse.
There are some "handlers" who get paid to do it, like when you call your cell phone provider because they screwed up your bill and you're put on hold for 20 minutes before you can talk to anyone. So when you finally get connected to a rep, you start the conversation off a touch irate, and then when you realize the person you're talking to is a complete idiot? It's all down-hill from there. First, don't ever swear, they never forgive you for that, even if you aren't swearing at them. And if you get a complete incompetent fool, even when you are being polite, when you ask to speak to a supervisor all you hear is "Ma'am, you'll need to calm down before I transfer you," or "I can't help you when you are this angry." WTF? You're telling me to calm down after you pissed me off? Oh-hell-no.
It's worse though when it happens from someone you know. When I was pregnant, people were always telling me what to do, like somehow they knew my body better than I did?
"Sweetie, why don't you go lie down instead? We can go out some other time." Okay wench, but I just said I wanted to go. I know I may look tired, but I've been looking like this for months! I don't get excused from doing the shitty stuff in my life, why would I pass up something mildy amusing, eh? So let's get crackin'!
Or my husband would say "Why don't you have a piece of fruit instead of another slice of pizza?" Because fool, this alien that is kicking the shit out of the insides of my ribs and making me pee every 5 minutes is demanding an offering of pizza, not a piece of damn fruit! Better yet, can you pass the ranch with that?
The ultimate handling experience is from your bosses though, for sure. "I have this project that really needs to get done asap. I know you're busy but...." Okay, so you know I'm busy, yet you still ask me to finish something you should have done months ago, and my ass only gets a few hours to do it? Gee, thanks. And by the way, I'm going to steal your job soon, fool. (Luckily for me, this happened much more at my past job).
My current boss is the opposite end of it. "Well Aletta, I don't want you to get overwhelmed with work." Look man, I'm asking for something to do, begging for more work and you deny me? What is this? I'm sick of surfing the 'net 6 hours a day, or reading manuals on programs that I already know front to back, please, please, please give me something to do! I'll make mail-in packets, or sort papers, or lick envelopes, just give me something to do!!!
Okay, one more. You know when you're going to eat with people, and you haven't decided where yet? "I don't care, where do you want to go?" Back and forth, and it's so much worse when you go out with a group of people. Well, it's not exactly handling, per se, but that shit drives me crazy. When I say I don't care, I really don't care. If I give you two options and you still can't decide, I'm liable to kick your indecisive ass outta my car (or yours, no matter) go get my lunch, and bring you back something.
Happy Friday Everyone!!
Oh no, "handling" is so much worse.
There are some "handlers" who get paid to do it, like when you call your cell phone provider because they screwed up your bill and you're put on hold for 20 minutes before you can talk to anyone. So when you finally get connected to a rep, you start the conversation off a touch irate, and then when you realize the person you're talking to is a complete idiot? It's all down-hill from there. First, don't ever swear, they never forgive you for that, even if you aren't swearing at them. And if you get a complete incompetent fool, even when you are being polite, when you ask to speak to a supervisor all you hear is "Ma'am, you'll need to calm down before I transfer you," or "I can't help you when you are this angry." WTF? You're telling me to calm down after you pissed me off? Oh-hell-no.
It's worse though when it happens from someone you know. When I was pregnant, people were always telling me what to do, like somehow they knew my body better than I did?
"Sweetie, why don't you go lie down instead? We can go out some other time." Okay wench, but I just said I wanted to go. I know I may look tired, but I've been looking like this for months! I don't get excused from doing the shitty stuff in my life, why would I pass up something mildy amusing, eh? So let's get crackin'!
Or my husband would say "Why don't you have a piece of fruit instead of another slice of pizza?" Because fool, this alien that is kicking the shit out of the insides of my ribs and making me pee every 5 minutes is demanding an offering of pizza, not a piece of damn fruit! Better yet, can you pass the ranch with that?
The ultimate handling experience is from your bosses though, for sure. "I have this project that really needs to get done asap. I know you're busy but...." Okay, so you know I'm busy, yet you still ask me to finish something you should have done months ago, and my ass only gets a few hours to do it? Gee, thanks. And by the way, I'm going to steal your job soon, fool. (Luckily for me, this happened much more at my past job).
My current boss is the opposite end of it. "Well Aletta, I don't want you to get overwhelmed with work." Look man, I'm asking for something to do, begging for more work and you deny me? What is this? I'm sick of surfing the 'net 6 hours a day, or reading manuals on programs that I already know front to back, please, please, please give me something to do! I'll make mail-in packets, or sort papers, or lick envelopes, just give me something to do!!!
Okay, one more. You know when you're going to eat with people, and you haven't decided where yet? "I don't care, where do you want to go?" Back and forth, and it's so much worse when you go out with a group of people. Well, it's not exactly handling, per se, but that shit drives me crazy. When I say I don't care, I really don't care. If I give you two options and you still can't decide, I'm liable to kick your indecisive ass outta my car (or yours, no matter) go get my lunch, and bring you back something.
Happy Friday Everyone!!
November 2, 2006
Back in the Day
I had coffee with a friened of mine from back in the day today. More specifically, she was my best friend in kindergarten to about the 3rd grade. She found me on myspace, and after a few months (because of course I was MIA for a while after Taryn was born) we actually coordinated schedules to meet.
It was so good seeing her, seeing someone who knew me "back then" and didn't associate me with all the BS I went through, and all the drama from high school. I'm not one of those people who hated high school, it was just as a fact, the darkest time of my life.
I feel like she's totally blossomed, from a shy little kid to this gorgeous, intelligent woman, and I don't feel like I've done the same. I feel like this, now, is my adolescence, where I get to figure out who I am and what I want to do with myself.
I grew up too fast, partly from a desire to escape my childhood and take some sort of control of my life, partly out of necessity, in order to survive. I started working at Subway when I was 14, and have pretty much held a job ever since, except for a few months here and there due one season of basketball, a few months away at school, childbirth, that kind of thing. And I'm just now wishing, as an adult, that someone had made me slow down, smell the roses, enjoy being a kid, instead of supporting my working so damn much and missing out on a time of my life I can never have back.
But it's not all bad, I learned to manage money very young, I bought my own car when I was 16, I learned how to financially take care of myself and my needs, even when I didn't know how to do it emotionally.
So there it is, after all this I've come full circle. Coming back to learn the things I missed growing up. Like small talk. And remembering names. Treating myself with respect. Figuring out what I want to be "when I grow up." Finding my niche, that thing that I'm good at and makes me happy.
Even though I'm ahead of the pack in many ways, I've fallen so far behind in others. Everyone develops differently, I'm learning that from Taryn, but the one mistake I vow not to repeat is making her grow too fast and miss her childchild. Nobody can be a fully functioning adult without those lessons.
One the menu for tomorrow: Being Handled.
It was so good seeing her, seeing someone who knew me "back then" and didn't associate me with all the BS I went through, and all the drama from high school. I'm not one of those people who hated high school, it was just as a fact, the darkest time of my life.
I feel like she's totally blossomed, from a shy little kid to this gorgeous, intelligent woman, and I don't feel like I've done the same. I feel like this, now, is my adolescence, where I get to figure out who I am and what I want to do with myself.
I grew up too fast, partly from a desire to escape my childhood and take some sort of control of my life, partly out of necessity, in order to survive. I started working at Subway when I was 14, and have pretty much held a job ever since, except for a few months here and there due one season of basketball, a few months away at school, childbirth, that kind of thing. And I'm just now wishing, as an adult, that someone had made me slow down, smell the roses, enjoy being a kid, instead of supporting my working so damn much and missing out on a time of my life I can never have back.
But it's not all bad, I learned to manage money very young, I bought my own car when I was 16, I learned how to financially take care of myself and my needs, even when I didn't know how to do it emotionally.
So there it is, after all this I've come full circle. Coming back to learn the things I missed growing up. Like small talk. And remembering names. Treating myself with respect. Figuring out what I want to be "when I grow up." Finding my niche, that thing that I'm good at and makes me happy.
Even though I'm ahead of the pack in many ways, I've fallen so far behind in others. Everyone develops differently, I'm learning that from Taryn, but the one mistake I vow not to repeat is making her grow too fast and miss her childchild. Nobody can be a fully functioning adult without those lessons.
One the menu for tomorrow: Being Handled.
November 1, 2006
Day 1 - Rabbit Rabbit
Let me take a minute to explain the sudden onslaught of new blogs that will be posted in the next month ... one a day to be specific.
I started my blog to get myself writing more, and instead I have relegated this piece of myself to those times when I have "time" which, being a new mommy is a lot less than I expected. But since writing is the only way I can express myself clearly (though not always with complete honesty) I have taken the NaBloPoMo challenge!
November is National Blog Posting Month, and if I am able to post at least one blog per day, I might win a lovely t-shirt that states so eloquently "I fuck like a girl!" Priceless, right? The real gem of this whole competition against myself and my laziness is that hopefully I will get into the habit of posting more often, maybe even get some real readers, but most importantly to capture who I am each day this month so one day I can look back and laugh at how young I once was!
Let me warn you though, I bitch a lot. I try to relegate my bitching to my other blog (not myspace, the other one) But since I have to post every single day here, and most days I only have something to bitch about, there will be quite a few rants, questions to the universe and the like. Sorry, you want to know me, you're going to get it. So if I offend, I apologize ahead of time. And if you have any ideas on what to write about, please leave me a comment to let me know... I'm sure I'll be struggling in a week or so!
Okay, hope you enjoy, and stay tuned ...
I started my blog to get myself writing more, and instead I have relegated this piece of myself to those times when I have "time" which, being a new mommy is a lot less than I expected. But since writing is the only way I can express myself clearly (though not always with complete honesty) I have taken the NaBloPoMo challenge!
November is National Blog Posting Month, and if I am able to post at least one blog per day, I might win a lovely t-shirt that states so eloquently "I fuck like a girl!" Priceless, right? The real gem of this whole competition against myself and my laziness is that hopefully I will get into the habit of posting more often, maybe even get some real readers, but most importantly to capture who I am each day this month so one day I can look back and laugh at how young I once was!
Let me warn you though, I bitch a lot. I try to relegate my bitching to my other blog (not myspace, the other one) But since I have to post every single day here, and most days I only have something to bitch about, there will be quite a few rants, questions to the universe and the like. Sorry, you want to know me, you're going to get it. So if I offend, I apologize ahead of time. And if you have any ideas on what to write about, please leave me a comment to let me know... I'm sure I'll be struggling in a week or so!
Okay, hope you enjoy, and stay tuned ...
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