It's almost Thanksgiving, and considering the predicament I allowed myself to get in this holiday season, namely scheduling too many parties and hang-outs, and too little time with Hubs in the country, I decided that I want to decorate early, and to hell with the Jones'. Also, F the HOA. I do understand the 'uniformity' of the neighborhood, but I seriously doubt that Christmas lights are bringing down property prices. Anyway, can they go any lower??
Thinking of P being gone for so long.... it terrifies me. I feel the panic rising, but I know we'll be okay. No scary movies, murder mysteries or open windows at night. Good thing it's Winter here. And even better that Boogie is the best preschooler on the face of the earth. My kid is so amazing, I sometimes wonder if we accidentally brought an alien baby home from the hospital, and one day antennae will spring from her head.
I'm trying to keep very busy so she doesn't miss him too terribly. We bought cameras so we can Skype, and I suggested that he record a couple books in Spanish for her to listen to while I get the baby sleeping at night. Christmas shopping is almost done, out house is one big pile of UPS delivered boxes, and I can't wait to crack open the Bailey's, blast some Christmas jams, and get wrapping.
Simple pleasures.
Showing posts with label holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holidays. Show all posts
November 19, 2009
September 9, 2008
Halloweeeeeeeeeeeen
Can I be honest here, without being shot by the firing squad? I know it's an odd feeling, and I've gotten a lot of slack for saying it, but I'm not a fan of Halloween. I mean, sure, I like seeing the kids dressed up and handing out candy, but me? Dress up? Not my thing.
I much prefer the "Autumn Activities" that come with this odd-ball holiday, going to the pumpkin patch and sampling fresh cheeses, wandering through the corn maze, maybe even riding on the haywagon if I have a minor accomplice. I do like the spiced apple cider, pies, the crisp Autumn air, pretty much everything aside from Halloween day.
I find it a bit disconcerting to see grown folks dressed up in some of the things they do. I'm turned off by the over-sexualization of many costumes, and some of them honestly scare me shitless. Maybe I'm just an open book though, what you see is what you get, and I don't need a special day each year to let my inner demon loose?
But here's the thing. Please don't tell, but I am actually starting to get excited this year. I don't know if it's because I see how stoked Boogie is to wear her costume (and there's a hint, she already has one) or because the last two years she was too young to go Trick-or-Treating. I actually have a costume idea for myself in mind, and I am the person that usually figues all that stuff out on the way to the Halloween party. Maybe I'm psyching myself up knowing the proposed theme for my baby shower which I initially wasn't too keen on, but now sounds like it will be a lot of fun.
I'd like to think it's the preggo hormones that are messing with my normally stoic facade (in relation to this weird day, at least) but I don't know. I do know this year we're hitting up at least two pumpkin patches, we're carving pumpkins, I'm making fresh pie and maybe my pumpkin chocolate bread while I drink my spiced cider, and I'm living it up this Fall. We're going to as many Halloween parties as we can, Trick-or-Treating both at Northgate and at home, and I'm sure Boogie is planning to wear her costume every day for the next 2 months as well.
I much prefer the "Autumn Activities" that come with this odd-ball holiday, going to the pumpkin patch and sampling fresh cheeses, wandering through the corn maze, maybe even riding on the haywagon if I have a minor accomplice. I do like the spiced apple cider, pies, the crisp Autumn air, pretty much everything aside from Halloween day.
I find it a bit disconcerting to see grown folks dressed up in some of the things they do. I'm turned off by the over-sexualization of many costumes, and some of them honestly scare me shitless. Maybe I'm just an open book though, what you see is what you get, and I don't need a special day each year to let my inner demon loose?
But here's the thing. Please don't tell, but I am actually starting to get excited this year. I don't know if it's because I see how stoked Boogie is to wear her costume (and there's a hint, she already has one) or because the last two years she was too young to go Trick-or-Treating. I actually have a costume idea for myself in mind, and I am the person that usually figues all that stuff out on the way to the Halloween party. Maybe I'm psyching myself up knowing the proposed theme for my baby shower which I initially wasn't too keen on, but now sounds like it will be a lot of fun.
I'd like to think it's the preggo hormones that are messing with my normally stoic facade (in relation to this weird day, at least) but I don't know. I do know this year we're hitting up at least two pumpkin patches, we're carving pumpkins, I'm making fresh pie and maybe my pumpkin chocolate bread while I drink my spiced cider, and I'm living it up this Fall. We're going to as many Halloween parties as we can, Trick-or-Treating both at Northgate and at home, and I'm sure Boogie is planning to wear her costume every day for the next 2 months as well.
September 8, 2008
Third Trimester Giggles
Already 28 weeks. I’m officially in the home stretch. And I’m giddy.
For some reason the past few days I have become almost stupidly excited about having this baby. Not that I don’t enjoy being pregnant, but I am so excited to see this little girl, and hold her, and bring her home to meet her big sister. I’m excited to have my house back soon and be home with my girls for a few months.
I’ve started a mental list of what I am going to do as soon as I go out on leave: get my hair cut, get a massage, rearrange the extra bedroom for optimal middle-of-the-night nursing and TV viewing, get the bassinette and pack-n-play set up, wash Boogie’s old clothes and get them put away in her yet-to-be-purchased dresser, decorate for Christmas …
And though normally I may feel a bit overwhelmed with having so much to do in an undetermined amount of time, these are all things that I am looking forward to, that I will enjoy doing, and that will get me even more excited to see this kid. And as much as I was dreading a “Christmas Baby” I’m stoked that this will all be happening during my absolute favorite time of year.
I’m also juiced that I’ll be home with Boogie for a while, just the two of us for hopefully a couple weeks. Time to devote to her, and soak up her squishy-cheeked loveliness before the whirlwind of infancy starts again in my house. We get to go Christmas shopping and sing carols and drink hot chocolate while we snuggle and read books. We get to lounge in our jammies all day if we want to, or get dolled up and go see Christmas lights. We can watch Rudolph cartoons and make paper snowflakes and we have an excuse to get our Christmas tree before Thanksgiving this year!
Watch out people, you know I bake when I’m extra happy, and you will be inundated with Christmas treats, candies, bread, and anything else I can think of. Whoot!
For some reason the past few days I have become almost stupidly excited about having this baby. Not that I don’t enjoy being pregnant, but I am so excited to see this little girl, and hold her, and bring her home to meet her big sister. I’m excited to have my house back soon and be home with my girls for a few months.
I’ve started a mental list of what I am going to do as soon as I go out on leave: get my hair cut, get a massage, rearrange the extra bedroom for optimal middle-of-the-night nursing and TV viewing, get the bassinette and pack-n-play set up, wash Boogie’s old clothes and get them put away in her yet-to-be-purchased dresser, decorate for Christmas …
And though normally I may feel a bit overwhelmed with having so much to do in an undetermined amount of time, these are all things that I am looking forward to, that I will enjoy doing, and that will get me even more excited to see this kid. And as much as I was dreading a “Christmas Baby” I’m stoked that this will all be happening during my absolute favorite time of year.
I’m also juiced that I’ll be home with Boogie for a while, just the two of us for hopefully a couple weeks. Time to devote to her, and soak up her squishy-cheeked loveliness before the whirlwind of infancy starts again in my house. We get to go Christmas shopping and sing carols and drink hot chocolate while we snuggle and read books. We get to lounge in our jammies all day if we want to, or get dolled up and go see Christmas lights. We can watch Rudolph cartoons and make paper snowflakes and we have an excuse to get our Christmas tree before Thanksgiving this year!
Watch out people, you know I bake when I’m extra happy, and you will be inundated with Christmas treats, candies, bread, and anything else I can think of. Whoot!
February 14, 2008
My Favorite Commercial Holiday, After Christmas and St. Patrick's Day
By Aletta C
In most situations, I am not one to be seduced by commercialism, but in the case of today, I am all for celebrating a made-up holiday.
Some people have blogged about how dumb it is to spend all this money to show someone you love them, and why do you need a certain day set aside for that anyway? Well, I’m here to tell you that maybe I picked the short straw out of the bunch, but my husband does not send me flowers at work “just because.” I do regularly get awesome gifts from him, but only because our wedding anniversary, my birthday, our first kiss and Christmas are roughly every three months throughout the year.
I’m not jealous of you people who get diamonds every year, and a dozen roses because you weren’t smiling in the morning when you left for work. Really? I’d rather my husband surprise me with a clean house and a home-cooked meal, than to splurge on an over-priced bouquet of roses that smell like tomatoes, or to buy yet another piece of jewelry that I won’t wear because I don’t want to lose it. Better yet, let me sleep in Sunday morning, and go pick some daisies with Boogie for me.
That being said, I sure as shit am not passing up a free meal at the restaurant of my choice. We’re doing our part to slow down the recession, and if that involves eating fresh-caught swordfish and oysters that were scraped off a rock while I was making my coffee that morning (hopefully not from the hideously polluted Richardson Bay though..) how can I shun commercialism for that?
Now, we don’t buy each other $4 cards, or spend $30 on chocolates. We go to dinner, a nice, romantic moment alone, which we rarely have the opportunity to indulge in between work, taking care of Boogie, and our various other social engagements. The next weekend we exchange Valentine goodies, when we can get them for 95% off, and laugh at people who actually paid full-price for them.
But that’s just us.
We can still smile at the new couples who are all stressed out the day before, running to find the flowers and balloons, and the couple the night of whose limbs are entwined throughout dinner. We think it’s cute, but we’ve been together long enough to know 1) this day is an excuse (yay! Free babysitting!) for us to go out alone and 2) there is so much more we’d like to do with the money we would have been spending on all the gifts and flowers.
I did get him a present though. I figure that since he’ll be paying for dinner, I could get away with buying him some “manly essentials” which he always procrastinates buying for himself.
So, Happy Valentine’s Day! Hope you make of it whatever makes you happiest!
In most situations, I am not one to be seduced by commercialism, but in the case of today, I am all for celebrating a made-up holiday.
Some people have blogged about how dumb it is to spend all this money to show someone you love them, and why do you need a certain day set aside for that anyway? Well, I’m here to tell you that maybe I picked the short straw out of the bunch, but my husband does not send me flowers at work “just because.” I do regularly get awesome gifts from him, but only because our wedding anniversary, my birthday, our first kiss and Christmas are roughly every three months throughout the year.
I’m not jealous of you people who get diamonds every year, and a dozen roses because you weren’t smiling in the morning when you left for work. Really? I’d rather my husband surprise me with a clean house and a home-cooked meal, than to splurge on an over-priced bouquet of roses that smell like tomatoes, or to buy yet another piece of jewelry that I won’t wear because I don’t want to lose it. Better yet, let me sleep in Sunday morning, and go pick some daisies with Boogie for me.
That being said, I sure as shit am not passing up a free meal at the restaurant of my choice. We’re doing our part to slow down the recession, and if that involves eating fresh-caught swordfish and oysters that were scraped off a rock while I was making my coffee that morning (hopefully not from the hideously polluted Richardson Bay though..) how can I shun commercialism for that?
Now, we don’t buy each other $4 cards, or spend $30 on chocolates. We go to dinner, a nice, romantic moment alone, which we rarely have the opportunity to indulge in between work, taking care of Boogie, and our various other social engagements. The next weekend we exchange Valentine goodies, when we can get them for 95% off, and laugh at people who actually paid full-price for them.
But that’s just us.
We can still smile at the new couples who are all stressed out the day before, running to find the flowers and balloons, and the couple the night of whose limbs are entwined throughout dinner. We think it’s cute, but we’ve been together long enough to know 1) this day is an excuse (yay! Free babysitting!) for us to go out alone and 2) there is so much more we’d like to do with the money we would have been spending on all the gifts and flowers.
I did get him a present though. I figure that since he’ll be paying for dinner, I could get away with buying him some “manly essentials” which he always procrastinates buying for himself.
So, Happy Valentine’s Day! Hope you make of it whatever makes you happiest!
December 26, 2007
Patting Myself on the Back
Christmas Eve was nice, Nonny, Boogie and I went and had sushi, then drove around looking at Christmas lights for a while before Boogie and I headed up to Petaluma to celebrate the Eve with the husband's fam. I guess people thought I wasn't going to go, since P was in transit back to the US, but it was nice, and busy. The food was good, and I liked having a chance to catch up with everyone.
Boogie was exhausted, but she did well, letting family hold her, dancing a bit, and opening presents. Around 1am, she was sitting with a new toy on her lap, eyes glazed over, not moving, not speaking, so I decided it was probably time to take her home to sleep.
The next morning P called to let me know he had missed the last leg of his flight, so Boogie went down for another nap, I prepped a dish for dinner, and Nonny stayed at the house cooking while I went to the airport with Boogie. When we got there, she was all smiles to see her Papa, and when I took her from him so he could get the suitcases in the car, she was devastated and cried her soul out until he took her back. They had a long time to get reacquainted in the back seat because it took us two hours to get home from SFO. Traffic was horrible, and I cried once from something P said, but not an entirely unenjoyable ride. Once I got over the hurt and realized he was reacting from being hungry and tired, I tried to enjoy my solitude in the front seat and actually 19th Ave is quite beautiful when you are forced to take it all in, in slow motion.
Anyway, dinner was awesome, and we have just enough left-overs to gorge ourselves but not get sick of the food. Boogie only opened about half her presents, when she got to one of the baby dolls I bought for her, she lost interest in the others and just wanted to play with her. But then the fussies came, and she got a nice bath with Papa and went to sleep.
And this morning P was up early with her so I was able to sleep in late for the first time in weeks, but when he brought her to me to nurse for her morning nap, she kept getting distracted trying to figure out where "Baby" was. I had to cradle Boogie and her doll both so that she could feel the heavy plastic doll next to her, then put them both to sleep. And she has a super-soft new pillow and blanket, from her Nonny, to sleep with, and super-adorable PJ's from Jojo.
So all-in-all, a typical Christmas for us. It was nice, lower-key than normal, less stress, and Boogie and I both got our Babies, mine from the airport, hers from a cardboard box. And I'm totally subscribing to Christmas being for the kids from now on, and folks wil have to wait for their birthdays for presents. I thought I might mind a bit not getting anything, but I was okay, I love watching Boogie rip strips of paper off and yelling "Wow" when she sees the gifts. And we have more to open today (mostly what I gave her) though I don't know where they are going to fit. Maybe I'll have to clean out more of the baby toys, and go get a toy box asap.
So, Happy Holidays to everyone, hope your days are filled with good food and family.
Boogie was exhausted, but she did well, letting family hold her, dancing a bit, and opening presents. Around 1am, she was sitting with a new toy on her lap, eyes glazed over, not moving, not speaking, so I decided it was probably time to take her home to sleep.
The next morning P called to let me know he had missed the last leg of his flight, so Boogie went down for another nap, I prepped a dish for dinner, and Nonny stayed at the house cooking while I went to the airport with Boogie. When we got there, she was all smiles to see her Papa, and when I took her from him so he could get the suitcases in the car, she was devastated and cried her soul out until he took her back. They had a long time to get reacquainted in the back seat because it took us two hours to get home from SFO. Traffic was horrible, and I cried once from something P said, but not an entirely unenjoyable ride. Once I got over the hurt and realized he was reacting from being hungry and tired, I tried to enjoy my solitude in the front seat and actually 19th Ave is quite beautiful when you are forced to take it all in, in slow motion.
Anyway, dinner was awesome, and we have just enough left-overs to gorge ourselves but not get sick of the food. Boogie only opened about half her presents, when she got to one of the baby dolls I bought for her, she lost interest in the others and just wanted to play with her. But then the fussies came, and she got a nice bath with Papa and went to sleep.
And this morning P was up early with her so I was able to sleep in late for the first time in weeks, but when he brought her to me to nurse for her morning nap, she kept getting distracted trying to figure out where "Baby" was. I had to cradle Boogie and her doll both so that she could feel the heavy plastic doll next to her, then put them both to sleep. And she has a super-soft new pillow and blanket, from her Nonny, to sleep with, and super-adorable PJ's from Jojo.
So all-in-all, a typical Christmas for us. It was nice, lower-key than normal, less stress, and Boogie and I both got our Babies, mine from the airport, hers from a cardboard box. And I'm totally subscribing to Christmas being for the kids from now on, and folks wil have to wait for their birthdays for presents. I thought I might mind a bit not getting anything, but I was okay, I love watching Boogie rip strips of paper off and yelling "Wow" when she sees the gifts. And we have more to open today (mostly what I gave her) though I don't know where they are going to fit. Maybe I'll have to clean out more of the baby toys, and go get a toy box asap.
So, Happy Holidays to everyone, hope your days are filled with good food and family.
November 19, 2007
So Long Turkey Day
Contemplating this mornng that this will be the first Thanksgiving ever without any turkey or celebration, and I'm not really that upset. I like Thanksgiving, and I love the food, but I know that while we're in Paraguay we'll have the family and the food, I don't feel like I'm missing out on so much.
It would have been nice to spend the holiday with my mom and brother, before he takes off on the cruise ship job, but I feel pretty okay with it. Thanksgiving is an odd holiday for us, because P and I bounce around from home to home, making appearances, filling up on food, then heading off to the next family gathering. When we do have people at our place to eat, it's normally Christmas, and it's stress-laden. I want people to relax and enjoy the day, but there is always a flare-up when nerves are raw and stomachs are too empty.
So I think it will be okay to be somewhere else for this holiday. Taryn is too young to complain about skipped traditions, P thinks we're weird for eating that much turkey, Nonny will be working, and we'll be in 90 degree weather soaking up the sun, gorging ourselves in organic fruits and veggies, warm beer, and tender beef.
Sounds pretty awesome to me.
It would have been nice to spend the holiday with my mom and brother, before he takes off on the cruise ship job, but I feel pretty okay with it. Thanksgiving is an odd holiday for us, because P and I bounce around from home to home, making appearances, filling up on food, then heading off to the next family gathering. When we do have people at our place to eat, it's normally Christmas, and it's stress-laden. I want people to relax and enjoy the day, but there is always a flare-up when nerves are raw and stomachs are too empty.
So I think it will be okay to be somewhere else for this holiday. Taryn is too young to complain about skipped traditions, P thinks we're weird for eating that much turkey, Nonny will be working, and we'll be in 90 degree weather soaking up the sun, gorging ourselves in organic fruits and veggies, warm beer, and tender beef.
Sounds pretty awesome to me.
November 18, 2007
One Resolution I Think I Can Keep
Many people have different ideas about Christmas, using it as a time to gather family, celebrate the birth of Christ, stress, and receive presents.
For me, Christmas is about giving.
I do love having my family together, but there is nothing better than to see someone's face light up, or tears or joy and appreciation when they open the present that I have spent hours picking out, and wrapping up.
Unfortunately this year, that's not going to happen. Due to our unfortunate circumstances, there just isn't anything extra. I hope that I never make my children suffer for my mistakes, so I decided that this year I'm only doing gifts for the kids.
I had thought about making donations to charities in their names, but I don't think they are at ages where they will appreciate the motivation behind it, and since I won't be there to prep them on gratitude, maybe this isn't the best year for that. I had thought about a No Presents At All stance, but I love giving too much, and again, I didn't want the kids to have any less of a Christmas because we aren't well-off right now.
And I realized that most of my budget was allotted for the adults, the gifts I wanted to get them were hundreds of dollars more than I spend on the kids, and there are a lot more adults than kids around this year. Kids are fine with a new toy or a $40 gift certificate. Adults I always want to WOW. And we just can't do it.
So. I decided, absolutely NO gifts for adults whatsoever this year. Cookies, dinner, yes, but no gifts. It's hard, because I had already mentally picked out gifts for most people but I can't go into debt now, not at this point in my life, not when I need to use my savings to pay the mortgage.
And the cool flip-side of that is that maybe I can put the money I was planning to spend on Boogie in her savings account, because if Nonny agrees to no gifts for me and P, that' smore for Boogie, right? *wink*
EH. We'll see how this goes. I might just find something I can't resist buying for a friend, and then it's all to shits.
For me, Christmas is about giving.
I do love having my family together, but there is nothing better than to see someone's face light up, or tears or joy and appreciation when they open the present that I have spent hours picking out, and wrapping up.
Unfortunately this year, that's not going to happen. Due to our unfortunate circumstances, there just isn't anything extra. I hope that I never make my children suffer for my mistakes, so I decided that this year I'm only doing gifts for the kids.
I had thought about making donations to charities in their names, but I don't think they are at ages where they will appreciate the motivation behind it, and since I won't be there to prep them on gratitude, maybe this isn't the best year for that. I had thought about a No Presents At All stance, but I love giving too much, and again, I didn't want the kids to have any less of a Christmas because we aren't well-off right now.
And I realized that most of my budget was allotted for the adults, the gifts I wanted to get them were hundreds of dollars more than I spend on the kids, and there are a lot more adults than kids around this year. Kids are fine with a new toy or a $40 gift certificate. Adults I always want to WOW. And we just can't do it.
So. I decided, absolutely NO gifts for adults whatsoever this year. Cookies, dinner, yes, but no gifts. It's hard, because I had already mentally picked out gifts for most people but I can't go into debt now, not at this point in my life, not when I need to use my savings to pay the mortgage.
And the cool flip-side of that is that maybe I can put the money I was planning to spend on Boogie in her savings account, because if Nonny agrees to no gifts for me and P, that' smore for Boogie, right? *wink*
EH. We'll see how this goes. I might just find something I can't resist buying for a friend, and then it's all to shits.
November 1, 2007
Trying to be Honest
It's painful to admit it, but holidays are really difficult for me. These fews days of the year put it in glaring brilliance that I am not where I want to be in life.
I feel like I should be doing something. I feel bad that I'm at home on Halloween night, that the only places I was invited to were kids parties. I blame it on my husband, because if I wasn't married, maybe I'd have a more active social life. And lately I have been using Taryn as an excuse too, that if I didn't have to worry about a sitter, I'd be more free to cultivate relationships with people.
But the awful truth is if I was alone, no husband, no toddler, no job to "make" me be be responsible, I'd probably still be sitting home alone on Halloween night passing out candy to all the happy people who surround me, and feeling sorry for myself. Because that's just how I am.
I'm good at making friends, and I'm shitty at keeping them. It's something I've dissected on here before, and the fact that it is a recurring issue for me just makes it that much m ore difficult to face.
I woke up this morning hating my life. I didn't want to go to work. I didn't want to hear about how much fun everyone but me had at their Halloween party, or Trick-or-Treating, or how nice it was to just stay home and watch a movie. I wanted to lay in bed and cry all day long because I'm miserable right now.
So I smile and laugh, ask how your night was and gush over how fun next year will be but the truth is inside I'm cringing. I don't want to hear it today but I force myself to listen so I don't drown in my own self-pity.
***
I don't understand how biologically I can feel fine one day and so horribly depressed the next. I don't know how it is for other people, but my depression consumes by soul, it's not that I'm just sad. My body feels worn out and my emotions are raw. Everything seems too bright, and too dim at the same time. I don't have the energy or will-power to get out of bed and take care of my child, but my the hamster wheel in my brain is spinning out of control.
But the truth is, when I get out of my head for a minute: This is who I am.
I feel like I should be doing something. I feel bad that I'm at home on Halloween night, that the only places I was invited to were kids parties. I blame it on my husband, because if I wasn't married, maybe I'd have a more active social life. And lately I have been using Taryn as an excuse too, that if I didn't have to worry about a sitter, I'd be more free to cultivate relationships with people.
But the awful truth is if I was alone, no husband, no toddler, no job to "make" me be be responsible, I'd probably still be sitting home alone on Halloween night passing out candy to all the happy people who surround me, and feeling sorry for myself. Because that's just how I am.
I'm good at making friends, and I'm shitty at keeping them. It's something I've dissected on here before, and the fact that it is a recurring issue for me just makes it that much m ore difficult to face.
I woke up this morning hating my life. I didn't want to go to work. I didn't want to hear about how much fun everyone but me had at their Halloween party, or Trick-or-Treating, or how nice it was to just stay home and watch a movie. I wanted to lay in bed and cry all day long because I'm miserable right now.
So I smile and laugh, ask how your night was and gush over how fun next year will be but the truth is inside I'm cringing. I don't want to hear it today but I force myself to listen so I don't drown in my own self-pity.
***
I don't understand how biologically I can feel fine one day and so horribly depressed the next. I don't know how it is for other people, but my depression consumes by soul, it's not that I'm just sad. My body feels worn out and my emotions are raw. Everything seems too bright, and too dim at the same time. I don't have the energy or will-power to get out of bed and take care of my child, but my the hamster wheel in my brain is spinning out of control.
But the truth is, when I get out of my head for a minute: This is who I am.
October 8, 2007
How Soon is Too Soon for Christmas?
Driving to work this morning, the fog hovering over the edge of a near mountain, I started to imagine my drive to work as the Winter chill gets deeper. For some reason, lights look brighter to me, the rain makes everything sparkle, and everything reminds me that it is the Christmas season.
It's probably psychological, but there are some things I don't notice until after Thanksgiving, like when you are on 101 South, just past Northgate on a dark evening, the rows of head- and brake lights look like strings of decoration I'd hang on my Christmas tree. And the rain smells sweeter than it does in the Summer. The air is crisp, not freezing like in the Fall, but clear and it sharpens the appearance of the leaves on trees.
I was wishing this morning that I had a Christmas CD to pop on. I'm one of "those people" who gets excited that right after Halloween they start the jolly-jingles that loop over the intercom at department stores. If my husband would allow it, I'd buy a Christmas tree before Thanksgiving and keep it up until Valentine's Day. I bake full-fat cookies, and hand them out to neighbors, co-workers, and maybe this year the postman too. I love buying gifts, spending hours deciding in the perfect present, then come home, fill a glass with wine, and spend twice as long wrapping them up. I love to cuddle under a blanket with the smell of soup on the stove, the patter of rain outside, and a hot cup of chocolate nestled in my hands.
There is something so sweet and magical about Winter, and Christmas really is my favorite holiday. I hate how people turn it into a stressful, competitive time, worrying they are not buying enough, not spending enough. I've had so many broke Christmases, and I feel grateful for that because I feel like I can appreciate the Holidays for what they are meant to be. A time to spend with family and friends, and just be together enjoying each others' company. I incorporate Jesus into mine, but I don't think that's requisite.
Anyway, I think I'm going to start early this year, because I plan on doing all gifts homemade. At least for the adults. Big plans folks. I'm stoked. Taryn will love the lights and such, opening her gifts, eating all the yummy food, and especially beign with family.
It's probably psychological, but there are some things I don't notice until after Thanksgiving, like when you are on 101 South, just past Northgate on a dark evening, the rows of head- and brake lights look like strings of decoration I'd hang on my Christmas tree. And the rain smells sweeter than it does in the Summer. The air is crisp, not freezing like in the Fall, but clear and it sharpens the appearance of the leaves on trees.
I was wishing this morning that I had a Christmas CD to pop on. I'm one of "those people" who gets excited that right after Halloween they start the jolly-jingles that loop over the intercom at department stores. If my husband would allow it, I'd buy a Christmas tree before Thanksgiving and keep it up until Valentine's Day. I bake full-fat cookies, and hand them out to neighbors, co-workers, and maybe this year the postman too. I love buying gifts, spending hours deciding in the perfect present, then come home, fill a glass with wine, and spend twice as long wrapping them up. I love to cuddle under a blanket with the smell of soup on the stove, the patter of rain outside, and a hot cup of chocolate nestled in my hands.
There is something so sweet and magical about Winter, and Christmas really is my favorite holiday. I hate how people turn it into a stressful, competitive time, worrying they are not buying enough, not spending enough. I've had so many broke Christmases, and I feel grateful for that because I feel like I can appreciate the Holidays for what they are meant to be. A time to spend with family and friends, and just be together enjoying each others' company. I incorporate Jesus into mine, but I don't think that's requisite.
Anyway, I think I'm going to start early this year, because I plan on doing all gifts homemade. At least for the adults. Big plans folks. I'm stoked. Taryn will love the lights and such, opening her gifts, eating all the yummy food, and especially beign with family.
June 19, 2007
Shorts
I have these thoughts tumbling around my head, and really, none yet warrant an entire post to itself, yet, because maybe later I'll have the insight to delve a bit deeper, but for now I just need to get them out so I hav emore room in my brain to plan T-Boog's birthday.
1. Peachy Crap?
I think it's just me, but why on earth would someone want their restroom to smell like peach and shit? The aerosol here at work has been flowery or peach for ages, and it's gross. I quite enjoy peach lotion, or the smell of peach pie, but peach as a cover-up to a foul odor? Not the best idea in my book.
2. Ghetto-fied Hamilton?
Sometimes even cool folks have ass-inine ideas. Like my uber-awesome neighbors who commented yesterday that they wouldn't send their kids to Hamilton school because of all the people from Vallejo who moved into the rentals nearby. First off, whatever. As if having non-Marinites in close proximity to your children is such a bad thing? Because really, having intergrated schools is not the end of the freaking world. And yes, I get that you want your kids to have a good education, but isn't education about more than just book learning? Isn't it important for them to see that not everyone is middle-class white people, and to learn to interact with people from different ethnic and social classes? And besides, as a teacher, you of all people should be aware of the detrimental affect of moving white kids out of certain schools so that the funding follows them instead of staying where it started and helping people of color get a good education too. But damn, I forgot. You teach at Marin Catholic, not Novato High.
3. Speaking of Neighbors
The Great Dane People who live near us have evidently pissed off most of the neighborhood. I was completely unaware that their dogs are so disruptive to nearby residents because my ass is usually knocked-out and sound asleep until 5:30am when T-Boog decides she wants to nurse while she listens to the Early Birds sing to the worms. But I was advised yesterday that the neighbor between us gets super-pissed that they let the dogs out at 4am, unattended, to do their duties (which also means the shit is not getting picked up) and then let them howl and bark outside the front door when they are ready to come back in. Eck. I already got issues with the guy, his wife is cool, but he seems to be completely oblivious to the fact that parking a monster boat on the street, with two monster trucks nearby is a pain-in-the-ass to the rest of us blindly backing out of our own carports in the morning, let alone the fact that they park an extra car in the handicap space (not that we have any disabled folks living nearby, but if we did...) and whatever. I'm washing my hands of them.
4. Got Grass?
P has decided to grow us a lawn in back of our place. The way the condo is set up, we have a little 8 by 10 foot sheltered spot right outside out living room window that was, until yesterday, covered in drought-resistant bushes. So while I was washing/blowdrying/curling my hair last night I smelled the BBQ going and thought P was just making dinner. Turns out her was slash-and-burning those poor plants to clear a spot that he plans to roto-till and grow some grass. I'm trying to figure out if it's for the dogs or Taryn. Maybe both? And I'm just hoping the HOA doesn't get all vindictive on us and make him re-place the stuff he tore up if we're found out. But if they do find out, I'm blaming the Great Dane people or the gardners. They are the only ones who go back there besides us.
5. On Family
Yay! Two of my aunts are coming to visit next week. I'm stoked, especially so they can see Taryn and hopefully the weather will be nice for them. Too bad I probably won't get an RDO while they are here, but maybe I'll happen to be sick so I can get a long weekend. Heh. Heh.
6. Little Overborad, Doncha Think?
I have the attendee list for T-Boog's birthday, and oops. From the people I invited we have 5-7 infants, 8-10 children, and 25-31 adults who will be there. Which means we'll have to feed and entertain enywhere from 40-60 people that day. Damn, I'm so glad I didn't decide to do it at my place. But double damn, I have to FEED all there people! 'Cept the babies of course, not my job.
1. Peachy Crap?
I think it's just me, but why on earth would someone want their restroom to smell like peach and shit? The aerosol here at work has been flowery or peach for ages, and it's gross. I quite enjoy peach lotion, or the smell of peach pie, but peach as a cover-up to a foul odor? Not the best idea in my book.
2. Ghetto-fied Hamilton?
Sometimes even cool folks have ass-inine ideas. Like my uber-awesome neighbors who commented yesterday that they wouldn't send their kids to Hamilton school because of all the people from Vallejo who moved into the rentals nearby. First off, whatever. As if having non-Marinites in close proximity to your children is such a bad thing? Because really, having intergrated schools is not the end of the freaking world. And yes, I get that you want your kids to have a good education, but isn't education about more than just book learning? Isn't it important for them to see that not everyone is middle-class white people, and to learn to interact with people from different ethnic and social classes? And besides, as a teacher, you of all people should be aware of the detrimental affect of moving white kids out of certain schools so that the funding follows them instead of staying where it started and helping people of color get a good education too. But damn, I forgot. You teach at Marin Catholic, not Novato High.
3. Speaking of Neighbors
The Great Dane People who live near us have evidently pissed off most of the neighborhood. I was completely unaware that their dogs are so disruptive to nearby residents because my ass is usually knocked-out and sound asleep until 5:30am when T-Boog decides she wants to nurse while she listens to the Early Birds sing to the worms. But I was advised yesterday that the neighbor between us gets super-pissed that they let the dogs out at 4am, unattended, to do their duties (which also means the shit is not getting picked up) and then let them howl and bark outside the front door when they are ready to come back in. Eck. I already got issues with the guy, his wife is cool, but he seems to be completely oblivious to the fact that parking a monster boat on the street, with two monster trucks nearby is a pain-in-the-ass to the rest of us blindly backing out of our own carports in the morning, let alone the fact that they park an extra car in the handicap space (not that we have any disabled folks living nearby, but if we did...) and whatever. I'm washing my hands of them.
4. Got Grass?
P has decided to grow us a lawn in back of our place. The way the condo is set up, we have a little 8 by 10 foot sheltered spot right outside out living room window that was, until yesterday, covered in drought-resistant bushes. So while I was washing/blowdrying/curling my hair last night I smelled the BBQ going and thought P was just making dinner. Turns out her was slash-and-burning those poor plants to clear a spot that he plans to roto-till and grow some grass. I'm trying to figure out if it's for the dogs or Taryn. Maybe both? And I'm just hoping the HOA doesn't get all vindictive on us and make him re-place the stuff he tore up if we're found out. But if they do find out, I'm blaming the Great Dane people or the gardners. They are the only ones who go back there besides us.
5. On Family
Yay! Two of my aunts are coming to visit next week. I'm stoked, especially so they can see Taryn and hopefully the weather will be nice for them. Too bad I probably won't get an RDO while they are here, but maybe I'll happen to be sick so I can get a long weekend. Heh. Heh.
6. Little Overborad, Doncha Think?
I have the attendee list for T-Boog's birthday, and oops. From the people I invited we have 5-7 infants, 8-10 children, and 25-31 adults who will be there. Which means we'll have to feed and entertain enywhere from 40-60 people that day. Damn, I'm so glad I didn't decide to do it at my place. But double damn, I have to FEED all there people! 'Cept the babies of course, not my job.
June 17, 2007
Happy Father's Day
I know I rag on P a lot in this blog. It's just venting. I love him with all my soul, but I'm not going to lie on here just because it's a holiday and say he's the World's Best Papa, because he's not.
But he is an incredible father to his daughter when he takes the time out of his day for her. I know he loves her more than he loves anything on Earth, and he would do anything in his power to make her happy. And for that, I am so grateful.
"They" say you marry your father, and in many ways I think that's true. I did find a man who had some issues with being a husband and being a father, different issues than my own father does, but one way that they are very similar is that they each recognize their shortfalls, and at least in regard to their daughters they both would move mountains just to see one sweet smile. Neither of them had a good role-model as to how a good father acts, so they are winging it, and doing a fantastic job as they go.
So to all the fathers out there, especially my dad Jeffery, and my husband Pedro, Happy Father's Day. You guys are doing an awesome job, and I appreciate you.
But he is an incredible father to his daughter when he takes the time out of his day for her. I know he loves her more than he loves anything on Earth, and he would do anything in his power to make her happy. And for that, I am so grateful.
"They" say you marry your father, and in many ways I think that's true. I did find a man who had some issues with being a husband and being a father, different issues than my own father does, but one way that they are very similar is that they each recognize their shortfalls, and at least in regard to their daughters they both would move mountains just to see one sweet smile. Neither of them had a good role-model as to how a good father acts, so they are winging it, and doing a fantastic job as they go.
So to all the fathers out there, especially my dad Jeffery, and my husband Pedro, Happy Father's Day. You guys are doing an awesome job, and I appreciate you.
May 13, 2007
Safeway Flowers and a Card
On Tuesday, please nobody mention to me the fact that my husband is a worthless *bleep*ing loser.
For my first Mother's Day, I get Safeway flowers and a card. This *bleep* has the audacity to stay up until 3am drinking...by himself, then when Taryn starts crying in the morning, he bring her downstairs to write her name in a card for me, and *bleep*ing spells it wrong on the outside. What a monumental failure I have been at picking decent men.
So yay for me. Mother's Day sucks.
I don't even have enough money to go do something nice for myself today. All I can do it take Taryn on a walk, and if I don't calm down soon enough, I may go buy my $400 purse on HIS credit card.
What an *bleep*. He spends hundreds of dollars a month on bars, clubs, playing golf with his friends, and Mother's Day rolls around and he is all of a sudden too broke to get me anything? Too lazy to make me breakfast? Too much of a *blee*-*bleep*ing *bleep* to do anything at all for me?
"Oh but Baby, I made you dinner last night!"
Well *bleep*, I cooked every night this week. It was your turn. And since when are empanadas a special dinner for anything???????
Please, don't get me wrong. It's not the lack of a gift I'm pissed about. It's the lack of giving a *bleep* about my emotional well-being in general that has my panties in a bunch. I *bleep*ing deserve some appreciation for what I do, and the one day set aside for that ... zilch.
The baby starts fussing, and all of a sudden he's a *bleep*ing expert. "Maybe she's cold, whay don't you change her diaper, maybe she doesn't want yogurt for breakfast." SHUT THE *BLEEP* UP. When's the last time you changed her diaper, fed her, or put clothes on her? Don't tell me how to do my *bleep*ing job, Idiot.
I know more about Taryn right now than you will in you entire life, because you don't give a flying *bleep* about anyone but yourself. And for the record, I will be a vindictive *bleep* and return the golf clubs I got you for Father's Day.
Happy *Bleep*ing Mother's Day to me.
For my first Mother's Day, I get Safeway flowers and a card. This *bleep* has the audacity to stay up until 3am drinking...by himself, then when Taryn starts crying in the morning, he bring her downstairs to write her name in a card for me, and *bleep*ing spells it wrong on the outside. What a monumental failure I have been at picking decent men.
So yay for me. Mother's Day sucks.
I don't even have enough money to go do something nice for myself today. All I can do it take Taryn on a walk, and if I don't calm down soon enough, I may go buy my $400 purse on HIS credit card.
What an *bleep*. He spends hundreds of dollars a month on bars, clubs, playing golf with his friends, and Mother's Day rolls around and he is all of a sudden too broke to get me anything? Too lazy to make me breakfast? Too much of a *blee*-*bleep*ing *bleep* to do anything at all for me?
"Oh but Baby, I made you dinner last night!"
Well *bleep*, I cooked every night this week. It was your turn. And since when are empanadas a special dinner for anything???????
Please, don't get me wrong. It's not the lack of a gift I'm pissed about. It's the lack of giving a *bleep* about my emotional well-being in general that has my panties in a bunch. I *bleep*ing deserve some appreciation for what I do, and the one day set aside for that ... zilch.
The baby starts fussing, and all of a sudden he's a *bleep*ing expert. "Maybe she's cold, whay don't you change her diaper, maybe she doesn't want yogurt for breakfast." SHUT THE *BLEEP* UP. When's the last time you changed her diaper, fed her, or put clothes on her? Don't tell me how to do my *bleep*ing job, Idiot.
I know more about Taryn right now than you will in you entire life, because you don't give a flying *bleep* about anyone but yourself. And for the record, I will be a vindictive *bleep* and return the golf clubs I got you for Father's Day.
Happy *Bleep*ing Mother's Day to me.
May 12, 2007
I Changed My Mind
I think that maybe, just maybe, Taryn knows tomorrow is Mother's Day, and stayed up late tonight so that I could sleep in tomorrow.
I was crying when P brought her out of her room, moping how my daughter soesn't love me and that I don't deserve Mother's Day.
"Look Punkin, she's trying to sit with you."
"No Babe, she probably just wants to pull my hair."
She was reaching out to me, so I took her and she rested her little head against my shoulder and sucked on her binkie for a minute. Then went nuts trying to rip a piece of plastic-paper apart.
That was enough to soothe the soul. I just put her down about 10 minutes ago. Rocked her for a few minutes while we nursed, set her down in her crib with her glow worm, and she was knocked out.
I was crying when P brought her out of her room, moping how my daughter soesn't love me and that I don't deserve Mother's Day.
"Look Punkin, she's trying to sit with you."
"No Babe, she probably just wants to pull my hair."
She was reaching out to me, so I took her and she rested her little head against my shoulder and sucked on her binkie for a minute. Then went nuts trying to rip a piece of plastic-paper apart.
That was enough to soothe the soul. I just put her down about 10 minutes ago. Rocked her for a few minutes while we nursed, set her down in her crib with her glow worm, and she was knocked out.
No Control
Tonight was the first time in a long time I had to give Taryn to her father to be put to sleep. Normally, it's the other way around. Normally she'll cry with him, and fall asleep fairly easily with me. but not tonight.
I've been trying for an hour and a half to put her down. Every time I put her in the crib, she starts crying hysterically, snot dripping down her nose, tears streaming down her face. I left her to cry for 5 minutes, picked her up and settled her down, and immediately when I put her back in the crib, she started screaming. 10 minutes and I go back in, rock her a bit, sing to her some more, put her back in the crib and she's screaming again. 15 minutes later, still screaming.
I tried to nurse her, she's swinging her arms in circles, flailing and scratching, kicking me in the neck. I try not to take it personally, I know she's not intentionally hurting me, but I just got so damn frustrated. Neither one of us are in control. I can't get her to calm down enough to sleep, and she can't soothe herself either, so we're stuck in this awful struggle, both with the same goal, but neither of us able to accomplish it.
So before I get too angry, after an hour and a half of this back and forth crap, I call P to put her to bed. I know he's pissed, he just got back form the gym and was trying to make dinner. I feel like an utter fucking failure, and go figure it'd be on the eve of my first Mother's Day. Maybe I don't deserve to celebrate, it takes more than a cooch to be a mother and tonight is one of those nights I question my ability to do this. To raise an independent being.
I feel my chest tightening up, and I'm trying my damnest not to let the tears flow, but this is not what I was expecting. I knew it would be hard, but why do I get the shit jobs? Why does P just get to play with her, and her eyes light up when she see's him, but me? I'm just food. No excitement to see me anymore, but I get the struggle whenever I try to pick her up. I know the transition is hard, to have Mama back when I've been at work all day, but can I get an ounce of appreciation for what I'm doing? I know she can't control her emotions, but it breaks my brittle fucking heart that she doesn't give a shit when I walk in the door.
I've been trying for an hour and a half to put her down. Every time I put her in the crib, she starts crying hysterically, snot dripping down her nose, tears streaming down her face. I left her to cry for 5 minutes, picked her up and settled her down, and immediately when I put her back in the crib, she started screaming. 10 minutes and I go back in, rock her a bit, sing to her some more, put her back in the crib and she's screaming again. 15 minutes later, still screaming.
I tried to nurse her, she's swinging her arms in circles, flailing and scratching, kicking me in the neck. I try not to take it personally, I know she's not intentionally hurting me, but I just got so damn frustrated. Neither one of us are in control. I can't get her to calm down enough to sleep, and she can't soothe herself either, so we're stuck in this awful struggle, both with the same goal, but neither of us able to accomplish it.
So before I get too angry, after an hour and a half of this back and forth crap, I call P to put her to bed. I know he's pissed, he just got back form the gym and was trying to make dinner. I feel like an utter fucking failure, and go figure it'd be on the eve of my first Mother's Day. Maybe I don't deserve to celebrate, it takes more than a cooch to be a mother and tonight is one of those nights I question my ability to do this. To raise an independent being.
I feel my chest tightening up, and I'm trying my damnest not to let the tears flow, but this is not what I was expecting. I knew it would be hard, but why do I get the shit jobs? Why does P just get to play with her, and her eyes light up when she see's him, but me? I'm just food. No excitement to see me anymore, but I get the struggle whenever I try to pick her up. I know the transition is hard, to have Mama back when I've been at work all day, but can I get an ounce of appreciation for what I'm doing? I know she can't control her emotions, but it breaks my brittle fucking heart that she doesn't give a shit when I walk in the door.
May 10, 2007
Ah, Mother's Day
Am I the only one who thinks Mother's Day is a big deal?
I talked to my mom about it yesterday, and she is working 2 jobs and we won't be able to spend time together so we're delaying our celebration until Monday since I'm off work.
Earlier yesterday, P called me to tell me he just realized that I was a mom. He told me that least year I wasn't since I was still pregnant (I think I was, but, whatever) and good thing he remembered early so he has time to get me a present.
But I have an idea for a present for my mom, which should be awesome. I've been thinking about it for a while, I just hadn't followed through since it is a huge time commmittment, the one thing I wasn't able to give up. But this year, I'm going to do it.
I can't say what it is, because she reads this blog, but I'm going for tears. Yeah, you heard me. Nonny doens't need stuff anymore, no more perfume or earrings, or whatever, so I go for the heart. To let her know hom much I really do love and appreciate her.
I talked to my mom about it yesterday, and she is working 2 jobs and we won't be able to spend time together so we're delaying our celebration until Monday since I'm off work.
Earlier yesterday, P called me to tell me he just realized that I was a mom. He told me that least year I wasn't since I was still pregnant (I think I was, but, whatever) and good thing he remembered early so he has time to get me a present.
But I have an idea for a present for my mom, which should be awesome. I've been thinking about it for a while, I just hadn't followed through since it is a huge time commmittment, the one thing I wasn't able to give up. But this year, I'm going to do it.
I can't say what it is, because she reads this blog, but I'm going for tears. Yeah, you heard me. Nonny doens't need stuff anymore, no more perfume or earrings, or whatever, so I go for the heart. To let her know hom much I really do love and appreciate her.
April 8, 2007
Directly Proportionate to Success
For the past few years, P has been in a slump. My thought was maybe there was some depression floating around that he wasn't willing to recognize, and I tried to support him in doing what makes him feel better, like going to the gym, taking up hobbies, or going back to school. But along with the depression was a serious lack of motivation. A few weeks to a few months after starting something, he'd revert back to his work, eat, watch TV, sleep routine.
Eventually he did admit that he might be depressed, and though he was adamant about not seeing a therapist, not taking medication, I think his recognition of a possible cause to the feelings he was having allowed him to open up a bit more to the suggestions that I was making. So we started looking for a new job for him.
P is very loyal to his company, and though he wanted to work in a new capacity, his hope was to stay at that particular company. We tried applying for him at the County, however, due to benefits and commute issues, and he was super-successful in the testing and interviewing for this particular position, but when it came down to a choice between him and a female candidate, they took the female. It made sense to us. The department he was interviewing for did focus on women a lot, but all the same he fell into a slump, got very discouraged about applying for any more jobs, and we decided maybe he should focus on going back to school.
He did a lot of research on colleges, and decided on Cal State East Bay, where he could get his degree in computer something-or-other in 6 years. We looked into different loan options so that he could just work part-time and go to school full time, and though I wasn't stoked about living the next chapter of my life hand-to-mouth, I threw my heart into supporting him and backing him on whatever decision he made, as long as he stayed motivated.
Sound familiar? Yeah, it was a week or so after this decision, and two weeks before I could get an appointment to see my OB, that I got pregnant.
So, fuck. He threw this shit in my face whenever he would get drunk, that he wanted to go back to school but because I got pregnant, he couldn't do that anymore. I had to remind him over and over and over that I hadn't had sex with myself. And that everything happens for a reason.
It was really hard in the beginning, thinking about how we were going to keep being upwardly mobile while having a baby. Thinking how in the hell we would afford being parents, when we barely had enough for ourselves. I think he was secretly pleased he didn't have to go back to school, seeing as he wasn't quite as education-minded as I was, he knew he couldn't work full-time and go to school full-time like I had, especially with a baby on the way.
After the beginning of the new year, we decided he should probably keep applying for jobs. At first, he applied everywhere, but didn't get an interview, probably due to his lack of formal education. As my belly grew, we realized that he couldn't leave his company, due to me and the baby needing to be on his medical benefits while I was off work, and so he focused on a promotion at the same job.
It was a rough time. I was saving every last penny I could for my maternity leave, so we didn't have much extra for eating out or going places. I spent a lot of time shopping for second-hand furniture for Taryn's room, figuring out budgets so I could stay out for a full 6 months, exercising to try to get myself in shape for labor, and of course sleeping. A lot. Our relationship suffered. I was so focused on the baby, I forgot my husband needed nurturing too. He was so focused on providing for his family that he couldn't get excited for the baby. I don't think it was real for him, even when I was so huge we couldn't lay on the couch together and watch a movie anymore, even when he would feel her kick and move around. It wasn't real until a couple weeks before she was born I had a third ultrasound to make sure she was growing okay, and he got to see her little legs kicking around, and her heart beating.
And after Taryn was born, we were so focused on getting her situated in this new foreign world and were so sleep deprived that he didn't look for work like we had planned while he was on his paternity leave. So he had to stumble back to the same job with the same pay and more worries while I was at home taking care of Taryn for months. And months.
And finally! After more than a year of looking for work, he was hired for a new position in the Company. A job that didn't give him a raise, but was closer to home, and something he enjoyed doing. And finally! He started coming out of the slump that had lasted the last few years.
We started talking more. And having sex more. Cooking together, and reading together, and taking Taryn out on the weekends to visit friends and family. He was finally feeling that he had acheived something. And he really had. He was able to find a job that he enjoyed, with some awesome co-workers, and started making comissions on his closings. He even told me he enjoyed the job so much he would take a pay-cut to stay there. Without any education.
And a lot of people knocked him for not going back to school. For not taking a second job when Taryn was born so that I could stay home longer with her. In general for not doing what they expected of him, like he was their little pawn or something. And for a while, I thought him working more might be a good idea too, but when I saw how his eyes light up when he sees his baby girl, and how he gets so excited telling me about his day at work, I know we made the right decision.
And things are still rough, sometimes. We don't have as much extra income as a lot of our friends, so we can't go out as much or buy as much as them. We have a lot more credit card debt than I would like, and we do still argue sometimes about the division of labor around the house now that we're both working, but we've got so much going for us right now, it sometimes amazes me to look back at where we were 5 years ago: newly married, working minimum wage jobs, living with my mom.
And now? We've got 5 years of marriage behind us, we own our home, we both have good jobs (even if they are good for different reasons), we have a beautiful baby girl, a live-in au pair, and we're happy. We fit together and this life fits us.
I'm not really sure where this post came from today. It's Easter, and I'm feeling grateful for our blessings. We've worked our asses off the last 5 years, on our jobs, on our relationship, and our happiness right now is directly proportionate to our success in everything that we've striven for.
Happy Easter!
Eventually he did admit that he might be depressed, and though he was adamant about not seeing a therapist, not taking medication, I think his recognition of a possible cause to the feelings he was having allowed him to open up a bit more to the suggestions that I was making. So we started looking for a new job for him.
P is very loyal to his company, and though he wanted to work in a new capacity, his hope was to stay at that particular company. We tried applying for him at the County, however, due to benefits and commute issues, and he was super-successful in the testing and interviewing for this particular position, but when it came down to a choice between him and a female candidate, they took the female. It made sense to us. The department he was interviewing for did focus on women a lot, but all the same he fell into a slump, got very discouraged about applying for any more jobs, and we decided maybe he should focus on going back to school.
He did a lot of research on colleges, and decided on Cal State East Bay, where he could get his degree in computer something-or-other in 6 years. We looked into different loan options so that he could just work part-time and go to school full time, and though I wasn't stoked about living the next chapter of my life hand-to-mouth, I threw my heart into supporting him and backing him on whatever decision he made, as long as he stayed motivated.
Sound familiar? Yeah, it was a week or so after this decision, and two weeks before I could get an appointment to see my OB, that I got pregnant.
So, fuck. He threw this shit in my face whenever he would get drunk, that he wanted to go back to school but because I got pregnant, he couldn't do that anymore. I had to remind him over and over and over that I hadn't had sex with myself. And that everything happens for a reason.
It was really hard in the beginning, thinking about how we were going to keep being upwardly mobile while having a baby. Thinking how in the hell we would afford being parents, when we barely had enough for ourselves. I think he was secretly pleased he didn't have to go back to school, seeing as he wasn't quite as education-minded as I was, he knew he couldn't work full-time and go to school full-time like I had, especially with a baby on the way.
After the beginning of the new year, we decided he should probably keep applying for jobs. At first, he applied everywhere, but didn't get an interview, probably due to his lack of formal education. As my belly grew, we realized that he couldn't leave his company, due to me and the baby needing to be on his medical benefits while I was off work, and so he focused on a promotion at the same job.
It was a rough time. I was saving every last penny I could for my maternity leave, so we didn't have much extra for eating out or going places. I spent a lot of time shopping for second-hand furniture for Taryn's room, figuring out budgets so I could stay out for a full 6 months, exercising to try to get myself in shape for labor, and of course sleeping. A lot. Our relationship suffered. I was so focused on the baby, I forgot my husband needed nurturing too. He was so focused on providing for his family that he couldn't get excited for the baby. I don't think it was real for him, even when I was so huge we couldn't lay on the couch together and watch a movie anymore, even when he would feel her kick and move around. It wasn't real until a couple weeks before she was born I had a third ultrasound to make sure she was growing okay, and he got to see her little legs kicking around, and her heart beating.
And after Taryn was born, we were so focused on getting her situated in this new foreign world and were so sleep deprived that he didn't look for work like we had planned while he was on his paternity leave. So he had to stumble back to the same job with the same pay and more worries while I was at home taking care of Taryn for months. And months.
And finally! After more than a year of looking for work, he was hired for a new position in the Company. A job that didn't give him a raise, but was closer to home, and something he enjoyed doing. And finally! He started coming out of the slump that had lasted the last few years.
We started talking more. And having sex more. Cooking together, and reading together, and taking Taryn out on the weekends to visit friends and family. He was finally feeling that he had acheived something. And he really had. He was able to find a job that he enjoyed, with some awesome co-workers, and started making comissions on his closings. He even told me he enjoyed the job so much he would take a pay-cut to stay there. Without any education.
And a lot of people knocked him for not going back to school. For not taking a second job when Taryn was born so that I could stay home longer with her. In general for not doing what they expected of him, like he was their little pawn or something. And for a while, I thought him working more might be a good idea too, but when I saw how his eyes light up when he sees his baby girl, and how he gets so excited telling me about his day at work, I know we made the right decision.
And things are still rough, sometimes. We don't have as much extra income as a lot of our friends, so we can't go out as much or buy as much as them. We have a lot more credit card debt than I would like, and we do still argue sometimes about the division of labor around the house now that we're both working, but we've got so much going for us right now, it sometimes amazes me to look back at where we were 5 years ago: newly married, working minimum wage jobs, living with my mom.
And now? We've got 5 years of marriage behind us, we own our home, we both have good jobs (even if they are good for different reasons), we have a beautiful baby girl, a live-in au pair, and we're happy. We fit together and this life fits us.
I'm not really sure where this post came from today. It's Easter, and I'm feeling grateful for our blessings. We've worked our asses off the last 5 years, on our jobs, on our relationship, and our happiness right now is directly proportionate to our success in everything that we've striven for.
Happy Easter!
March 5, 2007
Truth of the Matter Is.....
I only wanted to do it as a big green "fuck you" to everyone who thought we wouldn't make it this long.
And I want to have a party because I don't get out as much as I used to, and I want to drink and have fun too.
I've been thinking about this St. Patrick's Day party for a long time, and my original excuse was to have an anniversary party to celebrate P and I's 5 years of being married. But when I really thought about it, I think a nice dinner with just the two of us will be enough. Then we can sit together and appreciate each other and just be alone without all the distractions of other people.
I'm not thinking clearly here. I don't like this huge chasm in my brain right now, because on one side I want to celebrate with our friends and family. I want to get everyone together and thank them for their support the last 5 years, and drink and be merry... but on the other side I want to tell everyone to kiss our asses and go to hell for thinking we wouldn't make it. And yes, I had my doubts at times too, but it's one thing to doubt yourself, and another to doubt someone else. And damnit, I'm angry that people didn't think we could do it, and at the same time I'm grateful for all the shit they talked, because that's what made us strong enough to last the last 5 years.
And I realize in the great scheme of life, 5 years is nothing, but I'm proud of us, and proud of our home, and our baby girl, and proud that we've learned how to fight, and grown together so that we can fight, and make up, and that's what we need to be celebrating. Our maturation together and our willingness to fight when it would be easier to walk away, and the fact that even when everyone told us to call it quits, we stuck it out and have become a great couple in spite of all them.
And that's what we've learned, that we can work things out. And it's not all shits and giggles all the time, but we're seeing more good than bad the past few years and our growing health is supporting our entire familiy, and maybe even WE can be role models.
So yes, I do need a party to celebrate all that we've accomplished. Even if those people coming don't know why we're celebrating, we know, and we're proud and in love, and we're doing fucking fantastic!
And I want to have a party because I don't get out as much as I used to, and I want to drink and have fun too.
I've been thinking about this St. Patrick's Day party for a long time, and my original excuse was to have an anniversary party to celebrate P and I's 5 years of being married. But when I really thought about it, I think a nice dinner with just the two of us will be enough. Then we can sit together and appreciate each other and just be alone without all the distractions of other people.
I'm not thinking clearly here. I don't like this huge chasm in my brain right now, because on one side I want to celebrate with our friends and family. I want to get everyone together and thank them for their support the last 5 years, and drink and be merry... but on the other side I want to tell everyone to kiss our asses and go to hell for thinking we wouldn't make it. And yes, I had my doubts at times too, but it's one thing to doubt yourself, and another to doubt someone else. And damnit, I'm angry that people didn't think we could do it, and at the same time I'm grateful for all the shit they talked, because that's what made us strong enough to last the last 5 years.
And I realize in the great scheme of life, 5 years is nothing, but I'm proud of us, and proud of our home, and our baby girl, and proud that we've learned how to fight, and grown together so that we can fight, and make up, and that's what we need to be celebrating. Our maturation together and our willingness to fight when it would be easier to walk away, and the fact that even when everyone told us to call it quits, we stuck it out and have become a great couple in spite of all them.
And that's what we've learned, that we can work things out. And it's not all shits and giggles all the time, but we're seeing more good than bad the past few years and our growing health is supporting our entire familiy, and maybe even WE can be role models.
So yes, I do need a party to celebrate all that we've accomplished. Even if those people coming don't know why we're celebrating, we know, and we're proud and in love, and we're doing fucking fantastic!
February 15, 2007
Alternative Style V-Day
I was in a foul-ass mood yesterday. Between not getting any flowers and not finding out until the very last second if I'd be able to get off work in time today to pick up Taryn, I was in absolutely the wrong frame of mind for Valentine's Day.
P did cheer me up a bit when he told me he had been looking for a fireman costume to wear last night...yummy. Too bad he couldn't find one in time.
But he showed up after work with beer and chocolate, and while he gave T-Boogie her bath, I ran over to Pasta Pomodoro (which was freaking PACKED. I've never seen so many people in that place, ever) and picked up some dinner. We ate, had a glass of wine, a couple beers, and watched Little Miss Sunshine, which was freaking hilarious. Loved ever second of it.
And for dessert... well, you know. Wouldn't be Valentine's Day without a little cookie, now would it?
So all in all, it was a good end to a shitty day. I keep wishing for things to be different, more romance, less fighting, but P and I are in our groove. We have a comfort level with each other that only comes with time. No pretenses. We know what we like, and even when I think I want something else, I'm still happy with what I've got. Maybe when T-Boogie gets bigger we'll make more of an effort to get out and have our alone time, but for now, it's nice to stay around the house and be a family.
*** *** ***
On a side note, I squeezed my over-sized ass into a pair of pre-pregnancy pants the other day. Yessssssss! I always thought people were full of shit when they said it takes 9 months to put all thet weight on, and it'll take 9 months to get it all off, but I guess it really is true. I was shocked shitless after T-Boogie was born and I still looked 6 months pregnant!
So I was flaunting my newly-slimmed-down ass the other day in a pair of form-fitting pants at work. I went down to reception to call a client in for an intake, and Lydia who works down there called me over to her window and was telling me how good I looked. We were kind of joking around about baby-weight, and that with the next one there is no way in hell I'll ever ben this skinny again when she stood up, lifted her shirt up to reveal her tummy and started smacking it like a 5-foot tall gorilla, talking about "This is what happens when you're 36. Just wait, Girl, just you wait."
I was cracking up, this chick is crazy. Because there much have been 10 or 15 clients sitting around waiting for their workers, and this little-ass girl us standing in front of them all smacking her belly as if she's some 300lb sweaty electrician. Anyway. Just had to share.
P did cheer me up a bit when he told me he had been looking for a fireman costume to wear last night...yummy. Too bad he couldn't find one in time.
But he showed up after work with beer and chocolate, and while he gave T-Boogie her bath, I ran over to Pasta Pomodoro (which was freaking PACKED. I've never seen so many people in that place, ever) and picked up some dinner. We ate, had a glass of wine, a couple beers, and watched Little Miss Sunshine, which was freaking hilarious. Loved ever second of it.
And for dessert... well, you know. Wouldn't be Valentine's Day without a little cookie, now would it?
So all in all, it was a good end to a shitty day. I keep wishing for things to be different, more romance, less fighting, but P and I are in our groove. We have a comfort level with each other that only comes with time. No pretenses. We know what we like, and even when I think I want something else, I'm still happy with what I've got. Maybe when T-Boogie gets bigger we'll make more of an effort to get out and have our alone time, but for now, it's nice to stay around the house and be a family.
*** *** ***
On a side note, I squeezed my over-sized ass into a pair of pre-pregnancy pants the other day. Yessssssss! I always thought people were full of shit when they said it takes 9 months to put all thet weight on, and it'll take 9 months to get it all off, but I guess it really is true. I was shocked shitless after T-Boogie was born and I still looked 6 months pregnant!
So I was flaunting my newly-slimmed-down ass the other day in a pair of form-fitting pants at work. I went down to reception to call a client in for an intake, and Lydia who works down there called me over to her window and was telling me how good I looked. We were kind of joking around about baby-weight, and that with the next one there is no way in hell I'll ever ben this skinny again when she stood up, lifted her shirt up to reveal her tummy and started smacking it like a 5-foot tall gorilla, talking about "This is what happens when you're 36. Just wait, Girl, just you wait."
I was cracking up, this chick is crazy. Because there much have been 10 or 15 clients sitting around waiting for their workers, and this little-ass girl us standing in front of them all smacking her belly as if she's some 300lb sweaty electrician. Anyway. Just had to share.
February 13, 2007
Nobody's Valentine
I was taking my shower this evening, and felt this overwhelming grief and sadness. I don't know why, but I'm just feeling depressed and hopeless right now.
I feel like a jerk to complain, but with V-day coming up, I just feel really lonely. I know there are those folks out there who really have no one, and at least I can count on a box of cheap chocolates from Safeway when P gets home. I guess I just keep hoping that one day he'll do something for me, something special without me hinting at it first.
I just wish I was someone's favorite.
I think it started coming up talking to Diana at work today, and telling her that my supervisor, who is very on top of things, just completely blows me off when I ask for help. He gets back to everyone else so quickly, but completely forgets to email me back, or sign off on my vacation, or answer my questions. And I don't go to him for much because I'm not the person to keep bugging and bugging until I get an answer, and with him it seems like that is what I have to do to get even a simple reply.
Fuck me and my pity-party. I'm just sad and lonely tonight. Tomorrow it's sure to be worse with the inevitable question, "What did your husband get you for V-day?"
And I have one of two answers. I can lie, and say he hasn't given it to me yet, or lie and say "we" decided not to do anything so we could save up our money for our anniversary party next month. The other answer would be to tell the truth and say that he never does shit for me without my asking for something specifically, and even then sometimes gets too busy to follow through. Then I'd have to grin and bear the uncomfortable condolences from co-workers who's partners make them a fancy dinner, or buy them expensive jewelry, or take them on exotic trips.
Joy, oh-FN-joy.
Even complete A-hole husbands who fuck up 364 days out of the year will send their wives flowers tomorrow. And I'm left with nothing.
Again.
Like always.
I feel like a jerk to complain, but with V-day coming up, I just feel really lonely. I know there are those folks out there who really have no one, and at least I can count on a box of cheap chocolates from Safeway when P gets home. I guess I just keep hoping that one day he'll do something for me, something special without me hinting at it first.
I just wish I was someone's favorite.
I think it started coming up talking to Diana at work today, and telling her that my supervisor, who is very on top of things, just completely blows me off when I ask for help. He gets back to everyone else so quickly, but completely forgets to email me back, or sign off on my vacation, or answer my questions. And I don't go to him for much because I'm not the person to keep bugging and bugging until I get an answer, and with him it seems like that is what I have to do to get even a simple reply.
Fuck me and my pity-party. I'm just sad and lonely tonight. Tomorrow it's sure to be worse with the inevitable question, "What did your husband get you for V-day?"
And I have one of two answers. I can lie, and say he hasn't given it to me yet, or lie and say "we" decided not to do anything so we could save up our money for our anniversary party next month. The other answer would be to tell the truth and say that he never does shit for me without my asking for something specifically, and even then sometimes gets too busy to follow through. Then I'd have to grin and bear the uncomfortable condolences from co-workers who's partners make them a fancy dinner, or buy them expensive jewelry, or take them on exotic trips.
Joy, oh-FN-joy.
Even complete A-hole husbands who fuck up 364 days out of the year will send their wives flowers tomorrow. And I'm left with nothing.
Again.
Like always.
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!!
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