Not Up for Negotiation

Yep, that's what I told P last night. He made some smarmy comment about my disappointment that I wasn't pregnant this cycle, some BS that I was sad because that was my one chance to trick him into having another one.

So I simply told him that I am having another baby, with him, and he needs to get used to the idea, because I'm not asking permission, and it's not up for negotiation.

Ha. Bet he didn't see that one coming. And yes, that is exactly what I told him, practically word for word.

The funny thing was, once I said it and we talked some more about why he was still hesitant and why I wanted so badly to have another baby so soon, he almost seemed relieved that I had very concrete reasons for my decision (yay Blogger!) and my mind was made up. He even said he'd be happy to have twins, because then he'd know I wouldn't want anymore after that.

(We'll see...)

There are very few things in our marriage that I am absolutely set on, refuse to budge, and make my opinions very super-clear. This is one of them. I choose my battles knowing that I can't get what I want every time, so I stick to what is important to me and in the long run, I know he will be happy that we did it this way.

We were talking about all the places we wanted to travel to, bemoaning the fact that we won't be able to go for many years, but it will be so much more special to be able to share it with our kids. Spain, Italy, South Africa, Alaska, England, India, Thailand, New York.

I can't wait to be 30! Hehehe.

Babies on the Brain

Okay, okay. I'll have time to obsess about babies when I'm pregnant next time. In the words of a friend yesterday, "Why are you rushing it?"

So here are my top 10 reasons I want to be pregnant by Summer:

1. Energy. I just don't see myself as a 30-something running around after a toddler.

2. Spacing. If the next one is less than 3 years younger than Boogie, they have a better chance of being friends, getting to play together, and growing up together. I don't want one kid leaving high school before the other one is out of middle.

3. Sleep. I'm lacking sleep now, not quite deprived, but I'd rather not get used to full nights of sleep, then go back to getting up every few hours to nurse.

4. Money. Yep, we're pretty much broke right now. I don't really want to get used to having money again, then shelling out thousands of dollars per year for child care, diapers and toys again later.

5. Jojo. The girl is going to grow up one day and want to get married. I told her she can't leave until I have anoter baby, and both kids are in school, at least part time, so see? I'm trying to help her out too.

6. Body. I'm so not motivated to get in shape when I know I might gain 40 pounds by the end of the year. Better to pop them all out in a row, then get my ass in shape.

7. Space. Two kids close in age, even opposite genders, can share a room. I'm not going to be cruel and make my 10 year old daughter share a room with her 5 year old brother. I could, but that would suck for both of them.

8. Marriage. Having a young child is a strain on my realtionship with P. I'd hate to drag that out over years and years.

9. Travel. I'm dying to take trips with my kids, show them all the amazing things the world has to offer, but I'm not doing it with little babies. I want them to be old enough to somewhat appreciate the different cultures, to be able to go more than 5 hours wihtout a nap, if needed, to be out of diapers so I'm not lugging a pound of wipies wherever we go.

10. Mood. I love being a Mommy. I loved being pregnant. Two will be harder than one, but I know the good outweighs the bad, and I'm willing to sacrafice my social life, partying, cute shoes, etc, to be a Mommy a second time around.

The more I think about it, the better I think it is to have them close in age. I'm good with consistency. If I consistently don't sleep, don't have a clean house, and don't have money, I'm fine with that. But going from one extreme to the other, then back and forth a bit is too much for me, I think. We all choose to do it differently, but I'm glad I started young, and I hope to be finished by the time I'm 30.

Where I Ramble Emotionally About Marriage

I don't know how to wrap my head around the feelings I have when a couple splits up. Part of it is fear, how can P and I expect to maintain a marriage if they couldn't do it? Part of it is worry, because what if they are making a mistake? Did they go to therapy? Did they try hard enough to work it out?

And part of it is envy. To be willing to do something like that to make each other happier. I don't think P and I are mature enough for that.

I'm not talking about envy in the sense that I wish I were single, I can't imagine having to deal with the BS of dating again, of searching, waiting, and in the end having the same issues that we have now. I like the routine we have in our lives, I like the challenge of breaking out of that routine every once in a while to do something exciting, but then to be able to fall back into the comfort of a long-term relationship.

But I envy valuing myself enough to take that plunge into the unknown (though for this particular couple, who were married later in life and already knew the single life, I guess it's not really unknown), to give up so much that I had worked for in the last few years to start over, hoping for something better. I don't doubt that they still love each other, but it wasn't working, and they decided to call it quits.

At times I have thought it would be easier to be single, to do it alone, and do it my way, but I'm willing to sacrafice control in order to maintain what we've built together. The rough times have thus far been temporary. Yes, there are lingering issues, but when I took my vows I meant them. I'm not giving up without a fight.

In the larger context, I think that a lot of people are giving up too soon. This isn't a judgement, because there is no way I will ever know all the dynamics of the relationship, I can never know all the bits and pieces they brought to their union, and how hard they fought to make it work. I do know that a lot more people are getting divorced now compared to 30 years ago. I do know a lot of children are suffering the loss of a parent.

And I also know that the divorce process is easier than trying to work it out.

But I'm bummed out. I never saw it coming. I thought they were one of those quirky couples who, although very different from each other, they were madly in love after all these years, and they were going to stay together forever. I keep coming back to it in my mind. All week it's beein weighing on me, and not just this couple, but others as well, it's like a wave crashing over us and some couples are being washed apart by it.

And I wonder how deep P and I's roots are, what our foundation has been built on that has held us steady for so long. What would be the stressor that breaks us? Our marriage is riddled in conflict, but somehow we've been able to get past the obstacles. Us. Both children of divorce. Is it our pasts that make us unwilling to give up the fight? Is it Boogie that softens us to change? What the hell is it that casuses some people to divorce, and others to stuck together?

What is it?

Have You Seen My Evil Twin?

I don't know her name, but she's dying to get an ultra-modern short haircut, paints her nails blood red, wears plunging necklines, and drives a new car.

I'm worried her thoughts are polluting my mind.

Help.

I can't afford her!

T plus 36 hours

So yeah, it's been a day and a half since we cut Boogie off the boob, and all is well.

I was sort of dreading last night, thinking that she'd be begging for it, and then I'd have to get another bra smelling like vinegar, but as we were downstairs finishing up her oatmeal (goodness...oatmeal has become the bane of my mornings) she looked at me quite slyly and said:

"Mommy, chichi. Ouchie. Noni"

And gave me a kiss on the boob, then grabbed her Good Night Moon, pointed upstairs and said, "Go."

So, no requests. And we're doing okay. I'm a little uncomfortable, but a year ago, I would have been in agony going this long without nursing. And yay! I have pre-baby boobs right now! I don't know how long they will last, but I'm thinking of going to the beach or something if the weather gets above 65 this weekend.

And! She slept through the night. SHe was up for oatmeal, which is the next big hurdle to jump, but we're okay with the weaning. I don't feel too sad, more liberated than anuthing, and though I'll probably miss ir soon, I feel good that we lasted this long, and I'm glad she's okay giving it up too.

Month Twenty-One

Sweetpea, do you know what you have driven me to? Vinegar. On the goodies, capice? Last night, I decided that you've had run of the boobs long enough. For the last thirty months, you have controlled what I've eaten, drank, how much I slept, and when I can shower. But Love, no more.

I expected screaming, tears, pinching, kicking, a full-blown hissy when you realized no more chi-chi. But the truth? You didn't seem to mind much. I tried apple cider vinegar first, hoping not to shock to much more awake than you already were, but I guess it's on the sweeter end of the spectrum, and after an initial look of surprise, you kept on nursing. So then we went with red wine vinegar, and after one small tatse, you simply said "No chi-chi."

Then I told you that Mommy's chi-chi's had an ouchie, and no more milk, so you gave one a kiss, and asked for oatmeal. And that was the end of it.

Ohmigod.

I think we were both ready. You wanted to nurse for hours, presumably because you can't squeeze blood from a rock (but you don't know that yet) and after months of two to three times a day, there just wan't much left. The well has run dry, and Mommy is ready to get a tattoo.

So that was yesterday. The rest of the month? Talking. And jumpin. You had already started saying your two word combos a few months ago, mostly things like "Puppies, NO!" and "Agua, please" and "Mas chi-chi," and in the past week or so you've really started expanding your sentence repertoire. Now we her things like, "Mas cheese, please" and "You move aca" or "Please, oca (outside) coco (bird)." My favorite? "Sorry (sign language), no bite." Plus a kiss. How could I not forgive you for taking a chunk out of my shoulder?

And it takes me a minute to figure out what you are syaing sometimes, because Honey, you speak 3 different languages, plus throw in some signs and I'm just not on the up and up with everything that you know. I'm old, and slow, and you're just way too quick for me.

I also got you a chair booster, so you can sit at the table with us to eat. You had a pillow on a chiar for a few weeks, but kept sliding around, or getting stuck, and the pillow was nasty from the food dropping on it, so I figured this was the best way to go. It's fun, it traps your legs under the table and you can't push back from the table anymore to stand up and look out the window. Score!

You also went to your first wedding a few weeks ago, and had a blast chowing down, being passed from aunt to tio to cousin, playihgn with the kids, dancing "conga
like your Papa taught you on the bed, and finally passing out into a deep slumber hours past your normal bedtime. You were a hit, everyone talked about how well behaved you were, how adorable, and sweet, and even when you baurned your finger on a standing heater, you barely cried after we put a cold beer on it.

We're not bad parents, Jojo's friend was holding you when you got burned, and you kept trying to eat the ice we put on your finger first, and the only other available cold item was beer. It's called Make-Do Parenting.

In the store the other day, you were picking up Easter baskets and handign them out to the customers walking by in the store. You're getting over the stranger danger phase, though you are still a bit hesitant in new situations, you will now approach strangers, let people you haven't seen in a while hold you, and kiss random babies.

So my wish for you this month Angel, is that you always find a baby to kiss when you need one. It's such a lift, teh sweet smell, and innocent face. I hope you become someone to loves kids and isn't afraid to show your affection, because it'a appreciated by those aorund you.

I love you,
Mommy.

Hairless

P shaved his goatee and mustache off the other night. Ever since, Boogie has been saying "ouchie" whenever she sees him, and kisses his chin like he hurt himself.

Sappy Anniversary Blog

Yep, it's been six years, and I've sort of exhausted all those lovely "how we met" stories and "why I love him so much" raves.

Can you tell? It's a few days past the big day, and I'm just now getting around to writing about it. Our night was mediocre, we had dinner at a place with great food, but crappy service. He did buy me my favorite perfume, Issey Miyake, and bought himself the men's version because he knows I love it.

I guess after six years, it's the little things that make all the difference. It's the BBQ when I'm dying for smoking carcinogenic goodness, and staying up with me until 1am to watch a dumb movie when he's exhausted and has to work the next morning.

It's waking up at 3am to feed Boogie her oatmeal and put her back to sleep, so that I can get my 8 hours of (mostly) uninterrupted sleep.

It's agreeing to have another baby, although he dreads the idea of more sleepless nights, food battles, and early mornings. Because he knows nothing else in the world makes me as happy as seeing our beautiful baby girl.

After six years of marriage, we're still figuring things out. At 18, I had no idea that it would be this hard, that it would take this much work, that I could be completely miserable one night, and maniacally joyful the next morning.

But I am. We are. And I'm glad we chose each other to learn from.

Happy Belated Anniversary, Punkin.

On Friendship

Sometimes you grow apart as friends, and there is an awkward period while you redefine the relationship. If things go well, if we are okay with change, we come out on top with a relationship just as strong, or stronger, than the one we started with.

Some people start out not wanting to be friends, and somewhere along the road realize that we have a lot in common, that we can learn from each other, and grow into a natural comfort with each other.

And some other times, no matter how much you want it to work, it just doesn't. Some times we want different things. Sometimes I can't make the commitment to nurture another friendship, and sometimes I don't feel like I'm getting enough in return for the effort I'm expending. Often I feel like the one waiting to be granted admittance to this exclusive club, to become a friend, rather than just an acquaintance, but I'm not okay waiting anymore, so I give up and stop trying, and the friendship melts into a fond memory of the past.

Whatever path it takes, I'm learning to be okay with it, rather than fight for what I want, I'm trying to allow it to happen as it is meant to be. It's hard to let go of what I want, but sometimes it's not what's best for me.

Terible Two's in FULL EFFECT

Oh my Sweet Jesus. If I said 10 things to Boogie this morning, 8 were "NO!" Sprinkled of course with a few, "Don't play with that, please" and a "Where did you find that?"

Another phrase getting more and more common is "Don't climb on that [...] or else..." as in "Don't climb on that bookshelf or else you're going to fall and break your neck" or "Don't climb on that dog or else he's going to bite you again."

I'm exhausted. I think maybe it would be more bearable if it didn't start at 5am. After a 1:30 am alarm clock of "MAMA! OATMEAL!" And just for right now, I can't think of having two kids. Prayers are oozing out my brain that she'll be over this whole testing limits thing by the time I have another one. And that I'll learn a better way of handling it.

Which normally, I think I'm pretty patient, good at re-directing and finding things she can explore, rather than just saying NO to everyting. But it's hard to get ready in the morning and watch a toddler without any help. At. All.

But. I also know that I'm being tested right now, by both P and Boogie, and I need to stay firm, set limits, and redirect both of them to acceptable activities. It's short term, at least in the sense that this particular phase for both will end sometime, probably right when I get the hang of dealing with them, and then I'll be presented with a new challenge.

Such is life.

I'm off to research how to get this kid off the boob, and to sleep in later than 5:30am.

Just Like Papa

My husband has this weird thing about hair. If he finds one in his food at home, he'll dump the entire plate of food, instead of just scooping out the portion around it.

And then he'll serve himself more, and I don't exactly get it, because if he's so icked by hair (mine, or his, or the dogs') wouldn't the hair have infected the entire pot of food, and not just what was on his plate?

The thing that worries me is that lately Taryn has been having issues with hair too, mostly mine, but sometimes her own. In the bath, she sort-of starts freaking out if a hair is floating in her water, or gets stuck to her body. She does this "Eh-eh-eh" sound with the body part stuck out towards me until I find the offending hair and remove it from her sight.

She also does that in the car, if a hair is on her carseat she makes that same weird little sound and I have to figure out backwards in the rearview mirror where it is, and then get the bugger out the window.

Because if I drop it on the floor, or wipe it on my pants leg, she screams. A terrible, eardrum shattering screach and that banshee yell makes it physically impossible to drive, so not only and I frantically searching for the hair, I can't focus on where the car is heading. It's a recipe for disaster.

But I guess she hates peas too, which I blame on myself, so maybe the silver lining here is that she'll be plucking her own unibrow by 2nd grade, instead of me having to do it?

Weekend Update

Today I sneezed, and Taryn said "Bless You."

Well really, it was more like "beshhh booo" but I knew what she meant. What a smart girl.

And also, so now says picture, computer and okey-dokey.

She also won $12 playing Super Lotto on Saturday. More than I've ever won playing, so I hope she gets lucky and can fund her own college account because....

I'm officially addicted to Gymboree. At least the clearance racks. So FN adorable, I spent 2 weeks worth of grocery money on new clothes. So if Boogie and I *happen* to show up at your door around dinner time, now you know why.

Em. I think that's all. Except, whatever happened to the Weakest Link show? Replaced by 1 vs 100?

Fear

It's hard to really live when you are always afraid of making a mistake.

It's hard to go about normal life, like buying a damn stroller, when you are second guessing yourself all the time.

It's hard to be in relationships when you are always scared of being left, scared of hurting someone, and ultimately scared that maybe you should be somewhere else with someone else, but then again ... what if you shouldn't?

I've been living with persistent fear for a long time, and my solution to that fear was to try to control everything in my power. For a while it seemed like it was working, and then I got married, and had a baby, and the past 2 years have been a series of upheavals for me, a constant stream of information from the Universe that I am not in charge, that I have never been in charge, and that I need to get on board with it.

Okay. I can handle that.

But damn, letting go is so hard! I know some people have trouble being responsible, because thay throw their entire souls into having fun. That's what I need to work on. Letting go, and letting God handle it. Enjoy my time here on Earth, not worry about the house being neat, or the clothes getting folded, or every case off my desk by Friday at 4pm. The world will not stop spinning if I don't buy P's anniversary gift two weeks early, and look! We ran out of milk this morning, and Boogie is still alive!

Okay, enough dramatics, but really. I need to remember that sometimes it's better to have P mess it up the first time, than to do it all myself.

Asparagus

Sometimes the only way to get online with a toddler is a split screen. So as I'm blogging here and shopping online at gymboree (woo-hoo $50 in gymbucks, but these 2t clothes better last a loooong time at the rate they cost) Boogie is perched on one of my legs watching a baby break dance and a dog do tricks to that "Grease" song. She's boogying down with her headphones on.

Weird things people teach their dogs in the Midwest.

Anyhow, I was really coming to put up a quick post that Boogie was eating raw asparagus last night, and the stinky pee gene? She doesn't have it, thank goodness.

(This was supposed to be short, but steadily got longer and longer...)

Is it weird to pray in the shower? My life is so loud, so hectic, to scattered, that sometimes I feel like the only time that I have to myself, that I won't be interrupted, is when I shower before bed. I don't pray when I'm washing to goodies, that's just a bit weird to me, but the sound of the water hitting the tub drowns out the madness of the world around me and I feel like I can be centered and focused and talk with God.

The truth is, when I try to pray in another setting, I lose focus. My mind wanders, or I'm interrupted, and so I've really come to love my time in the shower, just me and the cat, sitting on the toilet lid meowing (I think she's scared I'm getting hurt by the water...like she does), and my thoughts.

One of the things me and my God have been discussing the past few nights is patterns. I've been perplexed for years that it is so easy to recognize patterns in other people, and so difficult to see them in oneself. My biggest struggles in life have been how to break myself of certain patterns, in thoughts, actions, and more importantly, reactions.

Like very recently, I heard a statement from someone and even though I knew it had nothing to do with me, I was still bothered by it. These patterns jumped out at me and I was pissed at what was said, but rather than react to it, I mulled it over for a few hours and realized that it's not fair to anyone for me to hold someone accountable for something that they are probably not aware of. Capice?

For instance, if you have a client who keeps promising to get something done, every time they are coming up on a deadline they ask for more time, more time, always just a little bit longer because life is in their way, at what point do you deny their benefits? Can you fault someone who is so focused on survival that maybe they can't grasp the importance of returning a paper to you, or filing for unemployment, even though you've told them they can't have benefits without it? And when you deny them, and they reapply, and you get stuck in that same dance again... I can csee the pattern, but THEY cannot. How to you make someone aware of a pattern that is damaging to themselves, and that sometimes is hurting the people aroudn them? How do you explain to a homeless single mother that unless she goes to child support, she can't have her cash grant?

Another thing God and I have been discussing is when it's appropriate to open my mouth, when to keep it shut, and the wisdom to know the difference. Or something like that. I hesitate to tell people what I notice because I don't want to be offensive (or hello! a freaking hypocrite) but am I doing them a disservice by keeping it to myself?

Ah, so many questions, so little time. Good thing I shower every night.

(almost)

Month Twenty

Hey Sweets, Happy twenty-month birthday!

At this exact moment, you are in the bathroom, wrapped up in a towel while your Papa brushes your teeth. In a second, he'll bring you in here so I can hold you while he puts your lotion on. Then it's butt-cream, oatmeal, Goodnight Moon, milk, and sleep.

Ah.

Of course if anyone heard you telling them your bedtime routine, it would sound more like: "bu-creeeeem," "o-meeeee," "booooog," "te-te," and "noni." A friend asked me the other day if "memo" was Spanish or Guarani. At first I had no idea what she was talking about until I realized she was trying to figure out what language you say tomato in.. which is toddlerese, I guess? "Memo" is tomato, "boo-bee" is blueberry, and "coco" is bird, but I think most other things you say are pretty clear, and Darling, you are a chatter box. On the say to Safeway this afternoon, you were yelling "Coco!" every few second when one flew through the sky.

You also aren't quite over Happy Birthday yet, and now instead of just "happy" you also sing along to the "birthday to you," and the name of whoever it is. Normally Taryn, sometimes Boogie, and in the last few days "Tio." Everyone is Tio now, La Tia, the neighbor, pretty much anyone you don't have another name for.

Gymnastics is over for a few months, and the last day of class you were giving everyone hugs and a kiss for teacher Michele. For the most part, you are pretty shy right now, hanging back when we get in a crowd of people that you don't know. But within 10 or 15 minutes, you are running around with the kids like you've know each other your entire lives. Sort of like Mama. And my wish for you this month is that you retain that watchfulness, but don't let it interfere with your social development.

Holy smokes, Batman! I almost forgot that you jumped out of your crib too! Well, I don't know if you actually intentionally jumped, maybe more like the weight of your massive brain dragged the rest of your body to the floor after it one night (and we don't even have carpet, sorry Love). But I am glad to say, and knocking on wood, you haven't tried it again. Unlike your Buddy Jackson, who is a regular Evil Knievel, and now gets a head start of his Houdini act and jungle-mosquito-netting survival skills since he's been given a challenge in his crib. A nice big white netted one.

Aside from that leap of faith, you've also been at the grown-up table for a few weeks, sitting on a couch pillow to eat dinner with your real metal fork and spoon, and ladybug dish set. Too cute for words, except I started taking pictures of you eating oatmeal one morning (and a pint of "boo-bees" afterwards, and when I started to put the camera away, you refused to eat until I took more pictures of you. I don't know what kind of monster I've created, but a few days before that I told you to show Papa your new belt, and you strutted over to him, turn around, jutted one hip out and put your hand on it like, "Look, I know I'm cute, just say it."

Ohmigod. And you haven't even hit two yet. You've got over 50 words in 3 languages, plus a bunch of signs. Impressive, especially since a lot of them I don't even know. Like I say every month, every week, pretty much every day, you continue to amaze me with how superbly intelligent you are, how loving, kind, generous, what a good dancer, and a good listener, and how all around incredible you are. I love you more than I ever thought possible, you have been the most wonderful blessing I could have ever been given.

I love you.
Mommy

Books for Brain Power

I've realized very recently that I love learning, but I have issues retaining the information. I always sort of knew that, considering I'd forget facts literally minutes after I finished taking a test in college, but when it comes to self-improvement, how in the hell do you keep track of all those things you want to do, and also be present in the moment, and on top of all that, take care of your business in the real world?

I mean, I can logically tick off the things I want to work on, but when I'm stressed or tired or hungry, how do I keep those goals in my mind while also dealing with the stress, and still have energy to do all those other things I need to handle, like work, cooking, cleaning, showering....? How do people constantly strive to be better than they were, and still maintain their sanity? My God, it feels like madness to just think about it!

My answer is, of course, to keep feeding my brain what I want to know, how I want to develop myself, so that I don't have to waste brain power on remembering, I can just go back into that zone for 20 minutes in a book before I go to sleep. Is that cheating?

I have been catching myself before mindlessly reacting recently. I've been trying to breathe instead of speak sometimes, and speak instead of ruminate. Maybe I just got wired backwards, and I need to somehow flip-flop those circuits to be normal? Hehehe, can I ever be normal? It's kind of fun to not react in a comfortable way, it's exciting to see a different way of living.

Instead of vomiting anger at my husband for not doing what we agreed he would do, like giving Taryn her bath last night, I give myself 2 minutes to calm down, (and give him a 2 minute chance to be the noble man I know he longs to be), then I do what needs to be done and appreciate the extra time I have with her.

On our way to gymnastics yesterday, P decided 5 minutes before we were leaving that he did in fact want to go. He was dressed and ready in about 3 minutes, then sat at the computer to check his email while I put on my shoes. As I was bringing Boogie to the car, he told me to wait so he could make some coffee. Instead of react to him lacking forethought, sitting at the computer wasting time when he could have been downstairs making his coffee, I told him I wasn't waiting and put her in the car.

He made it out of the house right before we pulled away, and was able to see Boogie having a blast for an hour.

It's taken me a long time to realize that my control issues are detrimental to my wellbeing. I have been trying for so long to control what is beyond my grasp, and I've gone crazy wondering why the world doesn't turn how I know it would most effectively. I'm reining all that in, and I'm really focusing on myself, the one person I can control in my life. It's taken my 6 years of marriage to realize that P is outside my range, and I officially give up trying to change him.

That doesn't mean I won't wish he'd do things differently, but I feel at peace knowing that it's up to God, not me, to make him more responsible.

I don't like New Age-y stuff. I'm not a fan of non-fiction. But if anyone has good book recommendations, fiction or story-like non-fiction, that I can learn from, please let me know. I'm all about feeding myself what's good and healthy and sane right now, so no more murder mysteries or horror stories, but after that I'm stuck as to where to turn.

mod*mom

Okay, I don't know how to do links, but if you have kids, or are pregnant (or want to buy Boogie someting really cool) go to modmom.blogspot.com. She's also got some incredible contests going on, so if you just want to win something, go there anyway.

Liza! I'l talking to you! Go enter...now! I know you don't have any work to do today.

Heheheh. Okay, post tomorrow about our dinner tonight, maybe Bogie will have a sibling this year? Sorry, TMI.

:)

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!

Living in the Moment

You know, I've always thought that one of the main reasons I was so anxious all the time was that I didn't live in the moment, but I discovered last night, that is far from the truth.

I was huffing around the house, irked that I was cleaning up after dinner, after walking the dogs, after feeding Boogie, doing laundry, cleaning the litter box, generally spending my Sunday taking care of everything and everyone but me. I was also trying to impress upon my husband the fact that Boogie is going to copy whatever he does, so he needed to get his act together. He had been eating corn kernels with his fingers, belching at the dinner table and generally being a pig, and she mimicked every disgusting act that he performed.

So I was standing in the hall surveying the damage to my house and plotting how to clean the biggest mess with the least amount of effort so that I could go upstairs and start a new book before I fell asleep. P bent over to put his shoes on to take out the trash, and let one rip. I restrained my fury and called him a pig. Feeling proud of myself for not losing my cool, I started cleaning the massive piles of newspaper that were beginning to take over the house since we started delivery. P came inside to grab the recycling, and as he walked past me he let out a huge stinking belch that reeked of corn and salmon, mayo and hippy water ... and I socked him in the arm.

In that moment, that single instant without thought, where my arm flew out from my side and connected with the source of my disgust and fury, I realized, Dude! I was totally in the moment right there!

And see, now I realize that when I am truly aggravated, I'm entirely in the moment, not contemplating the future repercussions of my actions. Now I just have to figure out how to do that more when I'm happy.

:)