Well, I had one slip-up, but really, it was sort-of like postign every day since I hadn't gone to sleep yet that night I was 20 minutes late. So yay! My own NaBloPoMo has been successful. And to reward myself (and as an early birthday present for me) I'm going to buy a new pair of sneakers and a cute nursing top today.
Edit: (6 hours later)
Been a busy day. No new shoes yet. No new shirt. And I'm still not finished with Tere's birthday present. I know, it was last weekend, but I requested an extension until Saturday. Hehe.
Just wanted to mention, I really like walking the dogs in the morning. I don't like getting up 15 minutes early to do it, but when it's all crispy-fresh out, and quiet it's just very nice and peaceful. A beautiful way to start the day. Unless they eat another dogs poop, or I see another giant fuzzy spider. But that doesn't happen often. At least less than it used to.
And tomorrow: Rabbit Rabbit!
May 31, 2007
May 30, 2007
'Nother Flashback
I saw an ex- at Safeway last night when T-Boog and I stopped to pick up some oatmeal (for cookies), shortening (for Tere's birthday) and yogurt (For T-Boog, ya'll knwo I dont have money for me!). I only mention this because this is one of the few times I went to Safeway with a list, and only bought what was on it. Yay me!
So anyway this guy was more of a non-sexual, friendship that turned into a quasi-dating situation until I realized he was entirely too young for me (the only guy I've ever "dated" who was younger) and we called it quits but stayed friends. I'd seen him over the years, but not for the past few, since P and I bought the condo. Which I always thought was odd, since it is right down the street from where he used to live. But evidently he shacked up with an older woman (14 years older, I think), bought a house, had a kid, then split up.
Now he's got full custody of his son who is just a bit older than T-Boog, and goes to bible study during the week. It's a trip how some things change, you know?
But I asked P if he would have a problem with me bringing T-Boog to go play with his kid, and he sort-of flipped out. And I guess as a woman, a wife, and a mother, I am very aware of how men react to all those labels, and honestly, most don't think that's hot. So I hadn't tripped off the fact that maybe he would feel threatened, but I guess he did because the first thing out of his mouth is some dumb-ass comment like, "Can I bring my ex over to play too?"
Okay, whatever.
Anyway, I don't see what the big deal is. Why shouldn't T-Boog have more friends? Maybe I'm just not the jealous type for not seeing the issue, or maybe I just trust him. Regardless, I'm sure this won't be the last time something like this comes up. T-Boog is bound to go to school with another person from my past eventually, seeing as we live in the town I grew up in, and so many people don't ever seem to leave this place.
It was kind of cool to see him. I'm happy he seems to be doing better than the last time we saw each other. I guess sometimes it just takes people a while to get their shit together.
So anyway this guy was more of a non-sexual, friendship that turned into a quasi-dating situation until I realized he was entirely too young for me (the only guy I've ever "dated" who was younger) and we called it quits but stayed friends. I'd seen him over the years, but not for the past few, since P and I bought the condo. Which I always thought was odd, since it is right down the street from where he used to live. But evidently he shacked up with an older woman (14 years older, I think), bought a house, had a kid, then split up.
Now he's got full custody of his son who is just a bit older than T-Boog, and goes to bible study during the week. It's a trip how some things change, you know?
But I asked P if he would have a problem with me bringing T-Boog to go play with his kid, and he sort-of flipped out. And I guess as a woman, a wife, and a mother, I am very aware of how men react to all those labels, and honestly, most don't think that's hot. So I hadn't tripped off the fact that maybe he would feel threatened, but I guess he did because the first thing out of his mouth is some dumb-ass comment like, "Can I bring my ex over to play too?"
Okay, whatever.
Anyway, I don't see what the big deal is. Why shouldn't T-Boog have more friends? Maybe I'm just not the jealous type for not seeing the issue, or maybe I just trust him. Regardless, I'm sure this won't be the last time something like this comes up. T-Boog is bound to go to school with another person from my past eventually, seeing as we live in the town I grew up in, and so many people don't ever seem to leave this place.
It was kind of cool to see him. I'm happy he seems to be doing better than the last time we saw each other. I guess sometimes it just takes people a while to get their shit together.
May 29, 2007
Late in the Day, and Brains all Mush
Not really sure why, but I love to bake. Not the results so much as the process, mixing ingredients, measuring out things, making a goopy mess which turns into a yummy creation.
Normal cooking just doesn't do it for me unles there's a process with it, a glass of wine, someone to talk to, or else I feel like I'm just slaving away for no cause. I do love cooking for T-Boog though, cutting up the veggies and blending them all, letting her taste while she sits in her highchair playing next to me and trying to guess what she thinks from her facial expression.
Maybe it's that people appreciate baked good more than dinner? Maybe dinner and lunch are just taken for granted as necessary, but dessert or fresh-baked bread are appreciated for being novel, in my home at least.
I'm so tired, yawning and I can't work right now because my brain is mushy. I don't want more mistakes, and since my eyes are blurring I think it's a better idea to blog than work on cases. I have been working hard all day, CalWORKs intake, couple of CMSP/FS apps, processing everything that accumulated over the long weekend.
Maybe I'll make cookies for dinner, or brownies. Johana eats cereal everyday anyway, I'm sure she wouldn't care. Maybe some eggs benedict again. You know what made me feel crazy? Watching Running with Scissors. Pretty damn depressing. And crazy. Lots of crazy.
I need to go to Safeway, but I have $7 in my checking account. I have money in savings but I need it for stuff, like T-Boogs birthday, and to get a new windshield.
I don't know when it will end, the hand to mouth. It's sure as shit getting old though, and P keeps looking into buying me an x5. I told him I don't want it, even if he's making the payments. I crash. And his non-moving objects. I don't need to stress off the cost to repair a BMW. I'd like the Volvo though, or the Rav4.
Maybe when the next kid comes.
Normal cooking just doesn't do it for me unles there's a process with it, a glass of wine, someone to talk to, or else I feel like I'm just slaving away for no cause. I do love cooking for T-Boog though, cutting up the veggies and blending them all, letting her taste while she sits in her highchair playing next to me and trying to guess what she thinks from her facial expression.
Maybe it's that people appreciate baked good more than dinner? Maybe dinner and lunch are just taken for granted as necessary, but dessert or fresh-baked bread are appreciated for being novel, in my home at least.
I'm so tired, yawning and I can't work right now because my brain is mushy. I don't want more mistakes, and since my eyes are blurring I think it's a better idea to blog than work on cases. I have been working hard all day, CalWORKs intake, couple of CMSP/FS apps, processing everything that accumulated over the long weekend.
Maybe I'll make cookies for dinner, or brownies. Johana eats cereal everyday anyway, I'm sure she wouldn't care. Maybe some eggs benedict again. You know what made me feel crazy? Watching Running with Scissors. Pretty damn depressing. And crazy. Lots of crazy.
I need to go to Safeway, but I have $7 in my checking account. I have money in savings but I need it for stuff, like T-Boogs birthday, and to get a new windshield.
I don't know when it will end, the hand to mouth. It's sure as shit getting old though, and P keeps looking into buying me an x5. I told him I don't want it, even if he's making the payments. I crash. And his non-moving objects. I don't need to stress off the cost to repair a BMW. I'd like the Volvo though, or the Rav4.
Maybe when the next kid comes.
May 28, 2007
Just a Thought
The beautiful thing about the truth is that even when it hurts, it can still teach you something.
May 27, 2007
Smokey Wasps
P just smoked out a hive of wasps, or hornets or something. Then he picked up the nest with his tongs and threw it on the BBQ.
A couple days ago, I noticed a wasp in the house. I thought it was a fluke thing, that we had just left the door open and it happened to get caught inside. P shoo'ed it out, and we didn't think much of it until yesterday there was another one, or maybe the same one, just posted up on the living room window. T-Boog loved it, she was pointing and making faces and I started to get a little worried. it was there for hours, and I remember some folks complaining of wasp nests in their eaves a few blocks away. I looked under ours, but didn't see a thing.
Until this morning. I went outside to water my tomatoes, and noticed a couple flying around. I ran back inside (because I'm a weenie) and just watched them cruise until I figured out where the nest was. Right smack across from the patio door, up in the corner under the computer chair mat that we've been meaning to give to Arturo and Elba. The nest was pretty small, maybe the size of a small potato, and there were maybe three of four wasps flying in and out.
So P, brave man he is, decides to get a long stick, ties a towel around the end, lights it on fire, and tries to smoke them out. The towel of course burns pretty quickly, and starts falling apart, one piece on the bag of charcoal under the nest, another piece onto the chair to the side which catches on fire and starts burning away. So I'm pounding on the glass door pointing to the burning chair, which he didn't see, so scrap that idea.
Then he pulls the BBQ right up under the nest and burns some dry cornhusks which works pretty well and they fly away long enough for him to grab the nest and throw it in the BBQ to burn.
Which we thought would be fine, but now there are like 10 wasps outside, flyign around looking for their nest.
Shit.
A couple days ago, I noticed a wasp in the house. I thought it was a fluke thing, that we had just left the door open and it happened to get caught inside. P shoo'ed it out, and we didn't think much of it until yesterday there was another one, or maybe the same one, just posted up on the living room window. T-Boog loved it, she was pointing and making faces and I started to get a little worried. it was there for hours, and I remember some folks complaining of wasp nests in their eaves a few blocks away. I looked under ours, but didn't see a thing.
Until this morning. I went outside to water my tomatoes, and noticed a couple flying around. I ran back inside (because I'm a weenie) and just watched them cruise until I figured out where the nest was. Right smack across from the patio door, up in the corner under the computer chair mat that we've been meaning to give to Arturo and Elba. The nest was pretty small, maybe the size of a small potato, and there were maybe three of four wasps flying in and out.
So P, brave man he is, decides to get a long stick, ties a towel around the end, lights it on fire, and tries to smoke them out. The towel of course burns pretty quickly, and starts falling apart, one piece on the bag of charcoal under the nest, another piece onto the chair to the side which catches on fire and starts burning away. So I'm pounding on the glass door pointing to the burning chair, which he didn't see, so scrap that idea.
Then he pulls the BBQ right up under the nest and burns some dry cornhusks which works pretty well and they fly away long enough for him to grab the nest and throw it in the BBQ to burn.
Which we thought would be fine, but now there are like 10 wasps outside, flyign around looking for their nest.
Shit.
Twenty Minutes Late
It's a good sign I'm just slipping in to bed now, and I completely forgot to post.
I had a good day, lots of time with friends, T-Boog, some tears with P but we're working on it.
I've been up since 6, and had gone to bet around 2am so I'm tired. Past tired. Exhausted. But satisfied.
It was a good day.
I had a good day, lots of time with friends, T-Boog, some tears with P but we're working on it.
I've been up since 6, and had gone to bet around 2am so I'm tired. Past tired. Exhausted. But satisfied.
It was a good day.
May 25, 2007
Two Quick Notes
Taryn got her ears pierced today! And she was a champ, cried for less than a minute on each side, and when the guy who did the piercing tried to give her a pink balloon when he finished, she refused to take it from her. Smart girl, and I'm glad she didn't hate me afterwards for it. So adorable, it's not even funny.
Second, I just saw her stand up by herself from sitting and take three steps. She may have gone further, but she was chewing on her shirt and pushed over the laundry basket with her free hand. Which she is now in the process of dragging down the hallway. Smart girl.
Second, I just saw her stand up by herself from sitting and take three steps. She may have gone further, but she was chewing on her shirt and pushed over the laundry basket with her free hand. Which she is now in the process of dragging down the hallway. Smart girl.
May 24, 2007
Snapshot
I think one of the problems with blogging is that it only captures you in a moment. It's like a polaroid of you smiling as you blow out the birthday candles, right before your face gets shoved into the cake.
I've said before, I blog to vent, I blog to process, I blog to just get all the *yeck* out so I can go on with my day. I know this month has been a downer. I haven't felt great for multiple reasons for most parts of most days, but it's notlike I don't have those redeeminf moments in my life, the instances where I am grateful to be alive and healthy and surrounded by people I care about.
Like this morning when I woke Taryn up to nurse, and before her eyes were even open, she was pointing, her little crooked finger sticking out towards the wall, towards whatever, just pointing, because that's what she does best right now.
Or after lunch, cracking up with Ally in the stairway about some dumb story or crazt sex-scapade, or making fun of people at work and clients, and generally just beign jolly as shit before we get back to the grind.
Or sitting on my porch having wine with Teresa, just catching up and appreciating being with someone to knows me so well and is so happy and doing wonderfully right now, even though she's really going through it.
Or emailing with my mom to get together this weekend to just spend time with the three of us, my daughter, my mom and I which always regenerizes my soul.
Or standing in the kitchen with P's arms wrapped around me, my face buried in his neck. The one place in the world I feel the safest when everything else feels so unsteady.
Or joking with Johana abotu dying her hair too light and discussing when she'll get her tongue pierced and when her man-friend is going to come visit her. Re-telling the stories of funny and cute things T-Boog did today, and even the minute details like when she slept, if she pooped, what she ate, that I revel in daily.
All these simple pleasures today, and I thank God for each one. It's not all bad, and really, most things are great. I just use this space to get the evil out of me so that I can enjoy these everyday interactions that make me who I am, and help me to appreciate what I have in life.
I've said before, I blog to vent, I blog to process, I blog to just get all the *yeck* out so I can go on with my day. I know this month has been a downer. I haven't felt great for multiple reasons for most parts of most days, but it's notlike I don't have those redeeminf moments in my life, the instances where I am grateful to be alive and healthy and surrounded by people I care about.
Like this morning when I woke Taryn up to nurse, and before her eyes were even open, she was pointing, her little crooked finger sticking out towards the wall, towards whatever, just pointing, because that's what she does best right now.
Or after lunch, cracking up with Ally in the stairway about some dumb story or crazt sex-scapade, or making fun of people at work and clients, and generally just beign jolly as shit before we get back to the grind.
Or sitting on my porch having wine with Teresa, just catching up and appreciating being with someone to knows me so well and is so happy and doing wonderfully right now, even though she's really going through it.
Or emailing with my mom to get together this weekend to just spend time with the three of us, my daughter, my mom and I which always regenerizes my soul.
Or standing in the kitchen with P's arms wrapped around me, my face buried in his neck. The one place in the world I feel the safest when everything else feels so unsteady.
Or joking with Johana abotu dying her hair too light and discussing when she'll get her tongue pierced and when her man-friend is going to come visit her. Re-telling the stories of funny and cute things T-Boog did today, and even the minute details like when she slept, if she pooped, what she ate, that I revel in daily.
All these simple pleasures today, and I thank God for each one. It's not all bad, and really, most things are great. I just use this space to get the evil out of me so that I can enjoy these everyday interactions that make me who I am, and help me to appreciate what I have in life.
May 23, 2007
FUCK !
I keep fucking up. I'm going too fast, speeding through and keep making stupid-ass mistakes. Fuck.
I don't feel all here. I'd rather be home, I'm thinking of all the other things I need to do. I'm letting my personal life interfere with my work, and it's messing me up. Fuck.
I need to take a breath. Stop. Think. Re-think, before I take an action. Before I mail a letter. I'm putting myself on these deadlines, gotta finish before the end of the day, and the mistakes are piling up. Stupid, stupid, stupid shit.
Overwhelming fear of failure, and it is becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'm rushing myself to beat myself. I prove to myself I can do it, and "it" ends up so riddled with errors, would have been better if I hadn't done it at all.
I have to grant people I don't think are eligible, and I'm granting folks I shouldn't have done.
Slow down. Stop being so sloppy. There's no rush. I'm rushing myself. But there's no real rush. There's no one looking over my shoulder, watching my actions. No one but myself, and I'm making mistakes that I should have caught before they happened.
Fuck. It's okay to not be perfect.
It better be.
I don't feel all here. I'd rather be home, I'm thinking of all the other things I need to do. I'm letting my personal life interfere with my work, and it's messing me up. Fuck.
I need to take a breath. Stop. Think. Re-think, before I take an action. Before I mail a letter. I'm putting myself on these deadlines, gotta finish before the end of the day, and the mistakes are piling up. Stupid, stupid, stupid shit.
Overwhelming fear of failure, and it is becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'm rushing myself to beat myself. I prove to myself I can do it, and "it" ends up so riddled with errors, would have been better if I hadn't done it at all.
I have to grant people I don't think are eligible, and I'm granting folks I shouldn't have done.
Slow down. Stop being so sloppy. There's no rush. I'm rushing myself. But there's no real rush. There's no one looking over my shoulder, watching my actions. No one but myself, and I'm making mistakes that I should have caught before they happened.
Fuck. It's okay to not be perfect.
It better be.
Conflicted
Once again, it's the back and forth that's getting to me. Not in a bad way, I feel okay today, but I'm torn. Again.
In some moments, I want to go out and get the nice things. I'm not a splurger, but I'm sick of the shoddy-quality stuff that I have been filling my life up with. I feel like I deserve a quality pair of shoes once in a while instead of the Payless plastic shoes I've been wearing most my life. At the same time that I am about to buy an adorable, quality made, slightly more expensive than normal but Yay! On sale! pair of shoes, I second guess my reasons for buying them.
Is it because I want to compete with someone?
Am I shopping because I'm not happy with my life in that moment?
Or am I buying them, really, because my other black sneakers (that I bought at Payless) have a hole in them and anyway, I haven't gotten new black sneaks in close to 5 years?
I'd like to think I'm buying out of necessity, but a part of me does feel shitty about where I am financially. But like I've said, my debt seems manageable. My husband's does not, and that stresses me out. I don't want to be the poor-kid on the block, so maybe if I buy nice sneaks I can pretend that I'm not. Right?
And then it always pops up in my mind that, "Hey, if I get another pair of cheap kicks at Payless, then I can go buy that (toy, outfit, etc) for Taryn with the rest of the money." But I can't live like that. I love buying her stuff, but I don't want to spoil her, and I don't want to resent her down the line for having everything new and shiny and I've got my 5-year old plastic shoes still.
I have the same dilemma-mind-trip going on about going out. I want to go have fun. But the things that I want to do, I don't have people to do with me. I'm over the clubbing thing, I'd much prefer to go out to a park with the kids, or have coffee with a girlfriend, or go out to dinner with the ladies. But my friends aren't in the same place. So while I'm up at 6am to have coffee and blog and play with Taryn, they are just stumbling home from the bar. And if that's what makes them happy, I'm all for them having their nightlife. I guess I just prefer to hang out during the day and sleep at night.
I know, I'm old. But I don't want to pretend that the whole bar/club scene is my thing when its not. Once in a while is cool, but I'm just not into it anymore. I feel like I'm clubbed-out, and I guess it's my loss for getting it out of my system while I was in high school.
I think I'm hoping for too much, too soon, and with too little offort. I need to work on my anxiety in public, about getting to know new people, and maybe use T-Boog as a crutch. I mean, what better way to get to know more Mommies my age, than to bring T-Boog around with me?
Anyway, I'm just feeling conflicted today. Like pretty much every other day. But I'm stoked because I'm registering Taryn for gymnastics over the summer, and I know she's going to love it. Especially now that she's almost walking, I think it'll help with her balance and getting a feel for her own body. And I'm going to make it a personal goal this summer to bring her to the pool at least twice a month, so she can get used to water, and hopefully she'll love swimming as much as I do.
In some moments, I want to go out and get the nice things. I'm not a splurger, but I'm sick of the shoddy-quality stuff that I have been filling my life up with. I feel like I deserve a quality pair of shoes once in a while instead of the Payless plastic shoes I've been wearing most my life. At the same time that I am about to buy an adorable, quality made, slightly more expensive than normal but Yay! On sale! pair of shoes, I second guess my reasons for buying them.
Is it because I want to compete with someone?
Am I shopping because I'm not happy with my life in that moment?
Or am I buying them, really, because my other black sneakers (that I bought at Payless) have a hole in them and anyway, I haven't gotten new black sneaks in close to 5 years?
I'd like to think I'm buying out of necessity, but a part of me does feel shitty about where I am financially. But like I've said, my debt seems manageable. My husband's does not, and that stresses me out. I don't want to be the poor-kid on the block, so maybe if I buy nice sneaks I can pretend that I'm not. Right?
And then it always pops up in my mind that, "Hey, if I get another pair of cheap kicks at Payless, then I can go buy that (toy, outfit, etc) for Taryn with the rest of the money." But I can't live like that. I love buying her stuff, but I don't want to spoil her, and I don't want to resent her down the line for having everything new and shiny and I've got my 5-year old plastic shoes still.
I have the same dilemma-mind-trip going on about going out. I want to go have fun. But the things that I want to do, I don't have people to do with me. I'm over the clubbing thing, I'd much prefer to go out to a park with the kids, or have coffee with a girlfriend, or go out to dinner with the ladies. But my friends aren't in the same place. So while I'm up at 6am to have coffee and blog and play with Taryn, they are just stumbling home from the bar. And if that's what makes them happy, I'm all for them having their nightlife. I guess I just prefer to hang out during the day and sleep at night.
I know, I'm old. But I don't want to pretend that the whole bar/club scene is my thing when its not. Once in a while is cool, but I'm just not into it anymore. I feel like I'm clubbed-out, and I guess it's my loss for getting it out of my system while I was in high school.
I think I'm hoping for too much, too soon, and with too little offort. I need to work on my anxiety in public, about getting to know new people, and maybe use T-Boog as a crutch. I mean, what better way to get to know more Mommies my age, than to bring T-Boog around with me?
Anyway, I'm just feeling conflicted today. Like pretty much every other day. But I'm stoked because I'm registering Taryn for gymnastics over the summer, and I know she's going to love it. Especially now that she's almost walking, I think it'll help with her balance and getting a feel for her own body. And I'm going to make it a personal goal this summer to bring her to the pool at least twice a month, so she can get used to water, and hopefully she'll love swimming as much as I do.
May 22, 2007
A Letter to You
[As funny as I think this was, I can't leave it up. There's drama brewing and I can't afford to lose my job right now]
May 21, 2007
The Weeds
I started watching the Showtime comedy "The Weeds" over the weekend. It was reccommended by a couple people, and there wasn't much else at the video store that I wanted to see.
I guess it's okay, it's funny, but I really prefer hour-long shows over 30 minute ones. I think the premise of it is awesome, but the actual show I wasn't super-impressed by. And maybe I had assumed SHowtime does comedy like HBO does, but I guess not really?
I can't really pinpoint why I'm not blown away. Maybe it's so over-the-top that I have a hard time getting into it, I mean, really? The white chick selling weed to maintain her lifestyle after the hubby dies, okay. The pot-head CPA starting a cover business for her to make weed brownies? Um, yeah. Leaving her Range and her wedding ring to cover the cost until she makes some cash? Not really. Aside from the fact that her stuff is worth waaaay more and you'd have to be an idiot to leave that to cover the cost of a couple ounces (I'm guessing? :) it's just too far-fetched for me. And maybe it's just got a different humor than I like, I don't know. It all seems too boxed, too trying-so-hard-to-be-different-it's-kind-of-dumb, you know?
Don't get me wrong, I'm going to watch the whole season. I think it's funny-enough, just not as fab as I was expecting. Because it is funny. I just don't think it's very original. Maybe that's what it is. It's very cliche, thw whole outrageous-ness of it. Of course the maid finds out she's a dealer and asks for a raise. Of course she goes to an all-Black club and yadda, yadda, yadda.
The funniest person in the show? The little kid. The one who makes the crazy terrorist video, and shoots the mountain lion in the eye. Kid cracks me up, he's so weird. He's very original, in the crap they have him doing, you don't see that on normal shows.
I get bored very easily.
I guess it's okay, it's funny, but I really prefer hour-long shows over 30 minute ones. I think the premise of it is awesome, but the actual show I wasn't super-impressed by. And maybe I had assumed SHowtime does comedy like HBO does, but I guess not really?
I can't really pinpoint why I'm not blown away. Maybe it's so over-the-top that I have a hard time getting into it, I mean, really? The white chick selling weed to maintain her lifestyle after the hubby dies, okay. The pot-head CPA starting a cover business for her to make weed brownies? Um, yeah. Leaving her Range and her wedding ring to cover the cost until she makes some cash? Not really. Aside from the fact that her stuff is worth waaaay more and you'd have to be an idiot to leave that to cover the cost of a couple ounces (I'm guessing? :) it's just too far-fetched for me. And maybe it's just got a different humor than I like, I don't know. It all seems too boxed, too trying-so-hard-to-be-different-it's-kind-of-dumb, you know?
Don't get me wrong, I'm going to watch the whole season. I think it's funny-enough, just not as fab as I was expecting. Because it is funny. I just don't think it's very original. Maybe that's what it is. It's very cliche, thw whole outrageous-ness of it. Of course the maid finds out she's a dealer and asks for a raise. Of course she goes to an all-Black club and yadda, yadda, yadda.
The funniest person in the show? The little kid. The one who makes the crazy terrorist video, and shoots the mountain lion in the eye. Kid cracks me up, he's so weird. He's very original, in the crap they have him doing, you don't see that on normal shows.
I get bored very easily.
Almost Forgot!
P and I had a fabulous dinner at the Seafood Peddler on friday night. We were planning to go to Pings, then Chevy's, then Red Lobster, and in stead headed over to San Rafael since I had never eaten there before. I'd been to that little "club" off the side a few times for parties adn such, and we'd picked up oysters in the entrance part, but never a sit-down meal.
Incredible.
We had an oyster appetizer, something Rockefeller I think. They were over baked with cheese and spinach on them and super-expensive and absolutely delectable. If they weren't $3 each we would have had more, but the food came ver quickly after that, so it was gravy.
Let me just say, we got there around 8:30, the place wasn't packed and there was a live band playing. We had a booth facing the canal, so we could see the stars and trees blowing in the wind and it was so romantic with a glass of wine and some cuddling.
Anyway, P had the mixed grill, a few different kids of fish and some potato thing, and I had the ahi tuna. They were both fab. Loved every bite, and we were full, but not super-stuffed, which was nice. Afterwards we hung out and talked a bit, picked up a couple movies and went home.
It was really nice to be out, just the two of us, and talk and all that jazz. Its odd how your life can feel so full, revolving around your child and you don't realize the important things that are missing until you do them again. We've had a rocky couple weeks, and this was just the refresher we needed.
Nice.
Incredible.
We had an oyster appetizer, something Rockefeller I think. They were over baked with cheese and spinach on them and super-expensive and absolutely delectable. If they weren't $3 each we would have had more, but the food came ver quickly after that, so it was gravy.
Let me just say, we got there around 8:30, the place wasn't packed and there was a live band playing. We had a booth facing the canal, so we could see the stars and trees blowing in the wind and it was so romantic with a glass of wine and some cuddling.
Anyway, P had the mixed grill, a few different kids of fish and some potato thing, and I had the ahi tuna. They were both fab. Loved every bite, and we were full, but not super-stuffed, which was nice. Afterwards we hung out and talked a bit, picked up a couple movies and went home.
It was really nice to be out, just the two of us, and talk and all that jazz. Its odd how your life can feel so full, revolving around your child and you don't realize the important things that are missing until you do them again. We've had a rocky couple weeks, and this was just the refresher we needed.
Nice.
May 20, 2007
Month Eleven
Duckie, I am in shock and awe that you are eleven months old today! Partly because I haven't really started planning your birthday yet, and last year at this time I was having your baby shower. I had no clue how much I would love being a Mommy, and how utterly amazing you would turn out to be. I love you so much.
I just put you down to sleep, we had a rough day with you throwing up three or four times all over yourself in the car. We were on our way to the Lawrence Hall of Science for a little gathering none of us wanted to go to, and once again, saved by the baby! You were kind of upset, and scared the bee-geebus out of your Papa and me, but it was cute on the way home after pulling over on the side of the road. You wouldn't touch yourself, wouldn't touch anything you had thrown up on, and refused to smile. I tried my hardest to make you crack a grin, and you sort-of smirked, but refused to smile until we got you in the bath. My wish for you this month is that you don't suffer from car- or boat- or any other type of sickness. I would hate for you to miss out on any moment of excitement in your life because of a weak stomach. But if you do, ginger is a life-saver when you don't have any medicine on you.
This month you also started to walk. Sort of. You are so super-steady when you stand up by yourself, and you can now go from sitting, to squatting to standing by yourself without pulling up on anything, but you do still prefer to hang on a wall or a leg instead of doing it yourself. And as of today, you have taken six steps by yourself. I'm just waiting for one day when I get home from work and you walk to me when I walk in the door. Maybe next week?
This month has been low-key in regards to getting out and going places. We've been spending a lot of time in the grass outside the house, and it seems like every time I put you down, you get this perplexed look on your face, eyebrows in a frown, mouth open, and on your hands and knees with one arm in the arm, just trying to figure out what this spiky green stuff is, and why you are in it. You've started crawling like a normal kid now, with both knees on the ground, but in the grass, you still crawl with one knee and one foot. But once you've been there for a while, you get crazy, crawling all around, picking up dirt, and leaves and bigs, sticking them all in your mouth .. just to check. I think you and me will take a trip to the beach this Friday (today is Sunday, if you are curious) and we'll both get into our swim suits and play in the water a bit. Mama needs a tan, and I'm sure you'll love it too.
The other place we've been a lot this month is Safeway. You are such a complete joy to take out in public. You interact with anyone and anything, smiling at old people, petting dogs, chewing on anything you can pull off the shelves. People still comment wherever we go how beautiful you are, how alert, and smart and you communicate very well.
Which reminds me, you do this finger thing now. Aside from the boogers, your milestone this month has been pointing. You point at things you want. You point at things you recognize. If I ask you where the kitty is, you'll crawl to within a foot of her and point. When you see something interesting, like a bird flying when we're taking a walk, you point at it. It's pretty obvious you get a lot more than you can explain to us, and you still aren't saying Mama, though you did the day after Mother's Day, but not again since, but when your Papa says "Where's Mama?" Most of the time you point at me. Sometimes you point at Rosco.
I should have more to write next month, we'll have your birthday, and my birthday, and maybe Father's Day. It'll be summer and maybe you'll even be walking by then. Joy. Because even now, you go to the laundry room and play in the dogs' water, you eat the crumbs form their food when they are eating in the living room. You scatter your Papa's CDs all over the living room floor and pull all the pots and pans out of the cabinets when I'm cooking. But I let you explore because you look so happy. I'm just glad I got the gate up at the top of the stairs today.
I love you.
Mommy.
I just put you down to sleep, we had a rough day with you throwing up three or four times all over yourself in the car. We were on our way to the Lawrence Hall of Science for a little gathering none of us wanted to go to, and once again, saved by the baby! You were kind of upset, and scared the bee-geebus out of your Papa and me, but it was cute on the way home after pulling over on the side of the road. You wouldn't touch yourself, wouldn't touch anything you had thrown up on, and refused to smile. I tried my hardest to make you crack a grin, and you sort-of smirked, but refused to smile until we got you in the bath. My wish for you this month is that you don't suffer from car- or boat- or any other type of sickness. I would hate for you to miss out on any moment of excitement in your life because of a weak stomach. But if you do, ginger is a life-saver when you don't have any medicine on you.
This month you also started to walk. Sort of. You are so super-steady when you stand up by yourself, and you can now go from sitting, to squatting to standing by yourself without pulling up on anything, but you do still prefer to hang on a wall or a leg instead of doing it yourself. And as of today, you have taken six steps by yourself. I'm just waiting for one day when I get home from work and you walk to me when I walk in the door. Maybe next week?
This month has been low-key in regards to getting out and going places. We've been spending a lot of time in the grass outside the house, and it seems like every time I put you down, you get this perplexed look on your face, eyebrows in a frown, mouth open, and on your hands and knees with one arm in the arm, just trying to figure out what this spiky green stuff is, and why you are in it. You've started crawling like a normal kid now, with both knees on the ground, but in the grass, you still crawl with one knee and one foot. But once you've been there for a while, you get crazy, crawling all around, picking up dirt, and leaves and bigs, sticking them all in your mouth .. just to check. I think you and me will take a trip to the beach this Friday (today is Sunday, if you are curious) and we'll both get into our swim suits and play in the water a bit. Mama needs a tan, and I'm sure you'll love it too.
The other place we've been a lot this month is Safeway. You are such a complete joy to take out in public. You interact with anyone and anything, smiling at old people, petting dogs, chewing on anything you can pull off the shelves. People still comment wherever we go how beautiful you are, how alert, and smart and you communicate very well.
Which reminds me, you do this finger thing now. Aside from the boogers, your milestone this month has been pointing. You point at things you want. You point at things you recognize. If I ask you where the kitty is, you'll crawl to within a foot of her and point. When you see something interesting, like a bird flying when we're taking a walk, you point at it. It's pretty obvious you get a lot more than you can explain to us, and you still aren't saying Mama, though you did the day after Mother's Day, but not again since, but when your Papa says "Where's Mama?" Most of the time you point at me. Sometimes you point at Rosco.
I should have more to write next month, we'll have your birthday, and my birthday, and maybe Father's Day. It'll be summer and maybe you'll even be walking by then. Joy. Because even now, you go to the laundry room and play in the dogs' water, you eat the crumbs form their food when they are eating in the living room. You scatter your Papa's CDs all over the living room floor and pull all the pots and pans out of the cabinets when I'm cooking. But I let you explore because you look so happy. I'm just glad I got the gate up at the top of the stairs today.
I love you.
Mommy.
May 19, 2007
Done Lost Ma Thunder
It is so freaking hard to change one tiny thing about myself, I don't know why I expect to be able to do an overhaul in a week. I'm tired and frustrated and I think I need some chocolate milk. How freaking depressing, eh? The month I chose to blog every day ends up being like this.
Oh well.
Taryn is going to be 11 months old tomorrow. That means in 31 days I can stop pumping, which comes out to be ... maybe 20 more days of pumping?
And we desperately need new dressers. Taryn pulls the drawers out on these ones and I'm freaked she's going to pull one all the way out and it'll squish her head.
Speaking of Taryn, I was showing her how to crawl up stairs yesterday, she's pretty good already. Only problem is, I was thinking stairs, she's thinking tox box, futon, all new level of stuff she can get to now. Ooops.
Oh well.
Taryn is going to be 11 months old tomorrow. That means in 31 days I can stop pumping, which comes out to be ... maybe 20 more days of pumping?
And we desperately need new dressers. Taryn pulls the drawers out on these ones and I'm freaked she's going to pull one all the way out and it'll squish her head.
Speaking of Taryn, I was showing her how to crawl up stairs yesterday, she's pretty good already. Only problem is, I was thinking stairs, she's thinking tox box, futon, all new level of stuff she can get to now. Ooops.
May 18, 2007
Four Steps!
Taryn just took her first, second, third and fourth steps this evening!!
Okay, maybe only three, because it was sort of a step, step, step, ste....fall. But still. I AM SO SUPER-STOKED TO HAVE BEEN HERE TO SEE THIS.
P was on the phone with Gabe, and Taryn was standing next to him holding onto his leg. I was down on the floor just messing around with her, barking and such, and I held out my hands. She hesitated for only a second, and started walking to me!
It was so incredible to see this little child that only a few short months ago couldn't even sit up by herslef, and then she was just walking.
But she can stop now. She's already getting into everything she can reach, I can't imagine the trouble she'll find when she can actually walk!
Okay, maybe only three, because it was sort of a step, step, step, ste....fall. But still. I AM SO SUPER-STOKED TO HAVE BEEN HERE TO SEE THIS.
P was on the phone with Gabe, and Taryn was standing next to him holding onto his leg. I was down on the floor just messing around with her, barking and such, and I held out my hands. She hesitated for only a second, and started walking to me!
It was so incredible to see this little child that only a few short months ago couldn't even sit up by herslef, and then she was just walking.
But she can stop now. She's already getting into everything she can reach, I can't imagine the trouble she'll find when she can actually walk!
Mind-Tripping
I am all about intention, and I know I'm being sensitive, but I'm getting super-irked lately with the flippant comments people are making. And I'm not trying to be passive-aggressive here, I'm really not, because I know I'm reading waaaay too much into them and getting hurt over nothing.
Like saying my baby is screaming like a banshee because she's "just learning she can do it" even though a conversation was just had in front of you about me imitiating her and possibly encouraging her to do it. And this pissed me off for two reasons, even though I know it wasn't said to be mean, because first, she was screaming in pain and any mother could see that she was in serious pain, the bright red face and tears and snot running down her face, her lips turning blue from not breathing enough, arching her back and generally being inconsolable to the point I was shaking I was so scared of what might be wrong with her and considering taking her to the ER and having P drive Ally back to work. She doesn't cry like that for fun. And second it's insinuating that it's my fault she was crying, which okay, if she was playing around that would be one thing, but skew it to my fucked up brain and it makes it sound like it's my fault she was screaming in pain.
Moving on.
Or commenting when I tell someone that I'm working overtime that you aren't so desperate for money that you would drive out here for OT and miss spending time with your child. (Finish reading before you come over here...you know who you are). I know it wasn't malicious, and I know you'd never say anything to hurt me and I know you're going to apologize once you read this, but I kept hearing that little phrase in my head and I started to get pissed. Not at you, but at the fact that yes, I'm broke. Financially, as a couple P and I are royally fucked right now, and I'm already frustrated that he's got so much debt that just gets higher and higher. And for some reason mine fells totally manageable, maybe because I make more, or maybe because I don't blow money on bullshit like he does. And I started to get embarassed and ashamed of myself for the situation that I'm stuck in: having to miss 1 day of my weekend to work overtime so that I can buy Taryn presents for her birthday. It's fucking lame, and I pissed at the damn situation.
And just to round it out, I'm frustrated why someone can be pissed that her partner doesn't defend her when she is called names by other people in front of his face, and in the next breath call my husband an idiot, and stupid and all types of shit. It doesn't make sense to me the double standard, that it's not okay to call you names, but it's okay for you to call him names? I know that person was going through a rough time, and I didn't want to detract from the point of the story, but damn. That's just fucked up.
*sigh*
So anyway. I've been hyper-sensitive lately, I know it. That's why I don't say anything. I know it's my mental fuck-ups that make me read so much more into things than a normal person but I had to vomit this all out before I drove myself crazy, running around and around the situations like a hamster on a freaking wheel.
Like saying my baby is screaming like a banshee because she's "just learning she can do it" even though a conversation was just had in front of you about me imitiating her and possibly encouraging her to do it. And this pissed me off for two reasons, even though I know it wasn't said to be mean, because first, she was screaming in pain and any mother could see that she was in serious pain, the bright red face and tears and snot running down her face, her lips turning blue from not breathing enough, arching her back and generally being inconsolable to the point I was shaking I was so scared of what might be wrong with her and considering taking her to the ER and having P drive Ally back to work. She doesn't cry like that for fun. And second it's insinuating that it's my fault she was crying, which okay, if she was playing around that would be one thing, but skew it to my fucked up brain and it makes it sound like it's my fault she was screaming in pain.
Moving on.
Or commenting when I tell someone that I'm working overtime that you aren't so desperate for money that you would drive out here for OT and miss spending time with your child. (Finish reading before you come over here...you know who you are). I know it wasn't malicious, and I know you'd never say anything to hurt me and I know you're going to apologize once you read this, but I kept hearing that little phrase in my head and I started to get pissed. Not at you, but at the fact that yes, I'm broke. Financially, as a couple P and I are royally fucked right now, and I'm already frustrated that he's got so much debt that just gets higher and higher. And for some reason mine fells totally manageable, maybe because I make more, or maybe because I don't blow money on bullshit like he does. And I started to get embarassed and ashamed of myself for the situation that I'm stuck in: having to miss 1 day of my weekend to work overtime so that I can buy Taryn presents for her birthday. It's fucking lame, and I pissed at the damn situation.
And just to round it out, I'm frustrated why someone can be pissed that her partner doesn't defend her when she is called names by other people in front of his face, and in the next breath call my husband an idiot, and stupid and all types of shit. It doesn't make sense to me the double standard, that it's not okay to call you names, but it's okay for you to call him names? I know that person was going through a rough time, and I didn't want to detract from the point of the story, but damn. That's just fucked up.
*sigh*
So anyway. I've been hyper-sensitive lately, I know it. That's why I don't say anything. I know it's my mental fuck-ups that make me read so much more into things than a normal person but I had to vomit this all out before I drove myself crazy, running around and around the situations like a hamster on a freaking wheel.
May 17, 2007
Even Worse
While pumping this morning, one of the clerks had the freaking audacity to knock on my door. I have a sign that I thought was obvious enough...
CAUTION: Do Not Enter
Mom Pumping for Baby.
But evidently it wasn't blatant enough that I don't want to be bothered when my door is closed and my sign is up. And what was it over? Someone in reception calling to see me. Which anyone else on the floor could have handled.
But no, she comes to my door, stops to read the sign, then knocks and calls my name.
Idiot.
CAUTION: Do Not Enter
Mom Pumping for Baby.
But evidently it wasn't blatant enough that I don't want to be bothered when my door is closed and my sign is up. And what was it over? Someone in reception calling to see me. Which anyone else on the floor could have handled.
But no, she comes to my door, stops to read the sign, then knocks and calls my name.
Idiot.
Not Your Mama
There has been something irking me about the Nanny. Some little thing tugging at the corner of my mind, and I haven't been able to place it until very recently. It's not a huge issues, more the way we interact. I try to invite her out places, try to get her to see more of Marin county but she's so resistant. I thought at first that maybe she just didn't know me and was shy, then I thought maybe she sees me as more of a boss than her cousin, maybe I'm just a bitch and she doesn't like me. But what I think now is ... she treats me like I'm her mother.
And ya'll know I only have one baby, and though I can be mother-ing, I sure as shit don't want any grown-ass children right now.
It hit me a couple nights ago when we were talking about my piercings, and the tattoo I have. She had told me she wants one and I'm like, "You're an adult. You want one, you should get one." But then she's telling me about how she pierced her own ear when she was younger, and can she get her tongue pireced?
"Hell No!"
I blurted it. I didn't mean to, but I misunderstood and thought she was saying she wanted to pierce her own tongue. And she can get whatever freaky shit (I know, I'm one to talk) she wants, but I'm morally opposed to sticking a needle in your own tongue. In my house.
But once we clarified that she wanted to go get it done and not do it herslef, I'm just like, "Hey, whatever." And then she actually asks my permission to do it! And I have to keep telling her she's an adult, and if she wants to get something pierced, she doesn't need my permission. And then of course I start tripping off the fact that the Nanny is asking my permission to do shit.
And it's happened more that I had realized in the past few months, pretty subtly, but she's been getting my okay before a lot of things, and I need to figure out how to take a step back and let her know that what she does when she's not watching Taryn has nothing to do with me. I mean, I've said that to her, but true to Caballero genes she doesn't get it. Or doesn't want to get it.
So whoa. I'm completely not ready for being the mother to a teen/adult. But maybe part of it is that I do have a very strong preference for how things are done in regards to Taryn, liek making sure she's eating enough, and not rocking her to sleep. Or taking her outside as much as possible and stepping aside when I get home so I can mother my child for a bit. Maybe I am an over-bearing bitch, and she feels like she needs my permission. Of course, you know tonight I'm going to call her out and see what she says. So I'll maybe blog about her response tomorrow.
And ya'll know I only have one baby, and though I can be mother-ing, I sure as shit don't want any grown-ass children right now.
It hit me a couple nights ago when we were talking about my piercings, and the tattoo I have. She had told me she wants one and I'm like, "You're an adult. You want one, you should get one." But then she's telling me about how she pierced her own ear when she was younger, and can she get her tongue pireced?
"Hell No!"
I blurted it. I didn't mean to, but I misunderstood and thought she was saying she wanted to pierce her own tongue. And she can get whatever freaky shit (I know, I'm one to talk) she wants, but I'm morally opposed to sticking a needle in your own tongue. In my house.
But once we clarified that she wanted to go get it done and not do it herslef, I'm just like, "Hey, whatever." And then she actually asks my permission to do it! And I have to keep telling her she's an adult, and if she wants to get something pierced, she doesn't need my permission. And then of course I start tripping off the fact that the Nanny is asking my permission to do shit.
And it's happened more that I had realized in the past few months, pretty subtly, but she's been getting my okay before a lot of things, and I need to figure out how to take a step back and let her know that what she does when she's not watching Taryn has nothing to do with me. I mean, I've said that to her, but true to Caballero genes she doesn't get it. Or doesn't want to get it.
So whoa. I'm completely not ready for being the mother to a teen/adult. But maybe part of it is that I do have a very strong preference for how things are done in regards to Taryn, liek making sure she's eating enough, and not rocking her to sleep. Or taking her outside as much as possible and stepping aside when I get home so I can mother my child for a bit. Maybe I am an over-bearing bitch, and she feels like she needs my permission. Of course, you know tonight I'm going to call her out and see what she says. So I'll maybe blog about her response tomorrow.
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