Thursday, November 29, 2012

other priorities

My spacebar isn't really working, so I guess you could say my life is pretty rough.

Speaking of challenges, this is new:

Maybe Ivy's fondness for the toilet andits accompanying paper bodes well for pottytraining.  Or maybe it doesn't. I recognize that andits  is not a word. Now do you understand the trial that is my computing? This keyboard is straight up making up words. It's some serious hardship up in here.

Speaking of actual challenges and human suffering, as in the French Revolution, let's  talk about Les Miserables.
I was so over this upcoming movie for a long time. I ignored the Facebookers incessantly posting the trailer. I reminded myself that Anne Hathaway is The Worst.  I agreed with Stephen when he said the movie (or musical) could never compare to the book. But then we went to see Lincoln (which was awsome, BTdubs), and I was blindsided by the the long-avoided, hated Hathaway soloing,  Les Miserables trailer. Guys, I bawled like a freaking baby. And I know what babies bawl like because,  I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but I have one.
So you win, Lay Miz. I'll see you. I'll cry. I'll say I could have done without Anne H. but secretly think she nailed it. I'll be touched to the core because I'm a sucker.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Double Digits

Ivy enjoying her Thanksgiving meal
Ivy is 10 months old today. I know right?! Didn't you read about 9 months like last week?
At 10 months Ivy is: pulling herself up on furniture, standing for a few seconds, falling less, sleeping less, bathing more, eating more,  crawling at warp speed, shaking her head no, clapping her hands, turning on phones, breaking into baby-proofed cupboards, saying  "mamamama", watching Sesame  Street, playing the ipad piano, feeding Ollie the snacks she's supposed to be eating, pulling hair,  poking eyes, crying when we take things away from her and making us laugh all the  time.
It makes me sad that her babiness will soon turn  to toddlerdom. Toddlers are terrifying and I'm already sturggling to keep up with Earth's Most Active Child. But I'm excited for walking and  words and peanut butter sandwiches and art projects and whatever else lies ahead in the next ten months. If they are anything like the last ten, it will be the time of our lives.

Friday, November 16, 2012

Happy Friday

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Another beautiful day in the neighborhood

In seventh grade someone started a Burn Book and passed it around the school. It eventually got to me and I found a page titled "Meg Morley". The burns were as follows:

"She's so quiet"
"Too quiet"
"So quiet"

So imagine my surprise when our landlord called and warned that the home owners association has received a number of reports of loud noises coming from our apartment.

If you just said to yourself "It's probably Stephen's fault," thank you for taking my side, but I have to assure you that if there's anyone less likely to cause a ruckus than I am, it's Stephen. He mutes television commercials so the volume doesn't give him a headache.

If I had to guess, I would say we've fallen victim to another hallucinatory meltdown from our next door neighbor. That or the fight club we host twice a week needs to relocate.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

It's like RAID became part of my chemical makeup.

Do you have a crushing fear of all things creepy and crawly? Does the word Arachnophobia define your existence? Have you been known to call a neighbor to come kill a Daddy Long Leg at three o clock in the morning?

Well, do I have a cure for you!

Parturition. (Street name: Child Birth).

Prechild, I was once like you. Spiders haunted my dreams. The great outdoors seemed nothing more than a giant habitat for terrifying invertebrate. I was even afraid of butterflies.

But then, after gestation and delivery, I stepped into the nursery to check on my sleeping infant. All seemed well until I spotted a decent-sized spider mere inches from my daughter's crib. Without so much as a chill down my spine, I marched to the bathroom, grabbed some tissue, and I CRUSHED THAT SUCKER DEAD. Nobody, spine or no spine, messes with my baby.

Thanks, Parturition!

Side effects may include: Weight gain, weepiness, nausea, and a human being to care for.

Friday, November 9, 2012

I guess I'll just bake

Today I wrote a customer the following email:
"Call your doctor. He'll tell you what to do."
So I guess I'm not a feminist after all, what with my assumption that all doctors are men.
While I'm destroying my lady street cred, I might as well admit that playing Modern Warfare makes me nauseous, and I tried watching Apocalypse Now but I just don't get it.

Monday, November 5, 2012

She's done alright for a girl

The lady who sat across the church foyer and watched Ivy play asked, "Is she your first?" I told her yes, and she said to Ivy, "Your mom has so much to learn". I just smiled, not knowing what response she was expecting, but knowing full well the response I wanted to give. I wanted to tell her that I'm very aware that I have a long way to go. That I know I'm not doing everything perfectly. That I really should know what BPA is, what to do when my baby has a cold, and how to make and store homemade baby food. That I worry all day every day about feeding her enough, playing with her enough, teaching her enough, and showing her that I love her enough. That I get very overwhelmed seeing what other moms accomplish, and that I know I shouldn't compare myself to them but I do anyway. That I know I shouldn't turn on Sesame Street just to get her to stay still but I do it anyway. That I should be able to get her to sit through Sunday School but I can't. That I should be comfortable nursing in public but I'm not. That yes, I do have so much to learn, but the last thing I need is a stranger reminding me that I'm not the ideal mother. 
I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt my feelings. She just wanted an excuse to talk about her five children, thirty three grandchildren and eight great grand children. She wanted to share her wisdom, and I appreciate that. But what I appreciate more are the moms who remember what it's like the first time around. Who listen and nod, who hold my baby and let me know I'm doing alright, despite all the things I'm doing wrong. 
I hope when I'm older I never tell a scared new parent how far they have to go. I hope I tell them how far they've come.