Happy New Year

So I am following Jonna and Linda into this meme. I am sure I missed their deadlines but well, it's still 2008 here.


1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before? Gave birth. Made hot wings. Swam a lap.
2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I’ve never really made resolutions but maybe I should. Have some focus for next year.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Me! My pal L.
4. Did anyone close to you die? No, thank God, but J did lose his great-grandmother.
5. What countries did you visit? None. I am not much of a traveler but this needs to change.
6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008? Some balance. I feel like I spent this year tinkering with my life trying to figure out a way to have a life and work and have a baby and wow I would like to invest that energy elsewhere in 2009.
7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? January 28th, Ramona’s birthday. Actually, the 26th through the 28th since I was in active labor all that time. And November 4th. I imagine we will all hang on to that one.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Surviving Baby Bootcamp. Learning to swim.
9. What was your biggest failure? I had a goal to not be doing my current job by July 08 and wow I am still doing it.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury? No, luckily.
11. What was the best thing you bought? Post-birth jeans. They are different than my pre-baby ones but they don't have an elastic waistband which is the most important feature.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration? My mother. She has been incredibly supportive and a great grandmother. And not a pain in the a** at all, which is sort of a miracle.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? John McCain. And sometimes my own.
14. Where did most of your money go? The house. Paying down debt.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Not being pregnant anymore. Obama’s victory.
16. What song will always remind you of 2008? You Are My Sunshine—since I sang it to Ramona every night this year.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? Happier b) thinner or fatter? Thinner but only because I was nine months pregnant last year. c) richer or poorer? Richer in basically every way.
18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Sleeping
19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Worrying
20. How did you spend Christmas? Slacking off at my parent’s house
21. Did you fall in love in 2008? Yup. With baby.
22. What was your favorite TV program? My friend L got me hooked on House.
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? No.
24. What was the best book you read? The Year of Living Biblically
25. What was your greatest musical discovery? James Morrison even though I know I am about the last one in the world to find him.
26. What did you want and get? A Flip video camera—thanks Mom.
27. What did you want and not get? A longer maternity leave.
28. What was your favorite film of this year? I don’t think I saw a single movie this year. Wait, Kung Fu Panda. What does that say about me?
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? It was my thirtieth and I went all over the WORLD to find my friend Chris a Wii. And then my husband took a group of friends out to a dueling piano bar.
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? This is too mind-fucking to consider.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008? Puzzling. The post-Ramona shape is not exactly what I had hoped and I still trying to figure out how to work the new body.
32. What kept you sane? The internets.
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Obama. Actually both Mr. And Mrs. Obama.
34. What political issue stirred you the most? Gay marriage. Prop 8.
35. Who did you miss? My best friend T.
36. Who was the best new person you met? The best new person is actually an old person. I re-connected with one of my good friends from Junior High/High School after not seeing her for twelve years.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008. That I really can't control things so I should stop trying.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year. I am terrible with song lyrics so SKIPPING.

Have a Happy New Year Y'all.

Happy Holiday

I did something dreadful to my back (yes, I said DREADFUL). It now feels like chipmunks have been chewing it up like it was made of acorns.

I hope that you all had a lovely holiday, I did and now I just want to nap until the New Year. I can't so all of you should and tell me all about it.

Merry Christmas

J and I are celebrating this holiday that is not really ours by having a wicked fight. We don't fight often so when we do it is always a shock and just awful. I am sure we will sort it out eventually (though right now it feels like we will not) but in the mean time AWKWARD.

I hope that your holidays, if you celebrate, are more festive and friendly.

Reason #912

When I was growing up we had this front closet that was always jammed full of crap. There were a bunch of scarves, including crocheted ones that my grandmother made with our initials on that we never wore, my spiderman ski mask--though I have never skied, those twee mittens on strings so we could not lose one but possibly hang ourselves getting ready to go out in the snow and a big giant pile of boots. I used to like to hide in the closet and try everything on--like a big cold weather version of the makeover scene from Pretty Woman.

My favorite things in the world were my mother's high heeled snow boots.

Now that I am an adult I wonder what the fuck she was thinking with high heeled snow boots. Especially in Iowa were there really was a lot of snow and ice. But at the time I thought they were unspeakably glamorous and obviously what I would wear when I grew up.

This is my only (weak) defense for what comes next. I wore my regular high heeled boots to work today. I didn't think much about how the park and ride would be a sheet of ice. Or how no one shovels so there would be drifts blocking every sidewalk a foot deep. I didn't think really. So I trotted off to work in my Jessica Simpson (MORE SHAME) boots and basically skated around the park and ride in front of a lot of people.

When my bus didn't come (for hours), I finally drove a friend of mine in and she screeched at me. Which is how I found myself buying real boots at lunch. Warm and cozy, very practical, and miraculously on sale. I say miraculously because every woman in Seattle was buying boots today.

They don't have high heels though. Adulthood is nothing like how I thought it would be.

I Am Sure That Is How The Idea Was Pitched Anyway

For the past week the Pacific Northwest has been hammered by snow and ice. At my house we have over a foot of snow. I know that in other parts of the country we are being laughed at with our city shutdowns and emergencies. But there are two important factors that everyone overlooks while pointing and laughing at Seattle. We average about three inches of snow per year, so we don't have many snow plows, sanding trucks or people who know how to use that equipment. And there are about three flat streets in the entire metro area.

So I haven't been to the office for a week. Not because I could not physically get there, but because I am not willing to wait two hours for a bus that will take two hours to get there. And risk getting stuck because they stop running the buses because really none of us belong in articulating buses on streets that look remarkably like luge courses.

For a couple of days I really dug the novelty of running reports in my PJs and not doing my hair. Then for a couple of days I consoled myself that at least I was getting to eat better lunches than I usually do since I could cook actual food. But today I was just sort of bored. I wouldn't mind working from home but I am not really set up to do so. Tap tap tapping away at my laptop under a duvet in front of a Clean House marathon is awesome and all but well . . . I miss having a desk top, wrist support and a working environment that does not involve a screeching baby who is pissed she isn't allowed to climb stairs.

If I had known this was going to happen I would have set up an office upstairs in other words.

Even staying home from work I have logged some serious hours out in the weather. Let me tell you, four wheel drive is totally worth it. Even for a couple of weeks a year. And I should probably own gloves, a hat and maybe some shoes that are not totally freaking stupid in the snow. I slid across a parking lot and landed on my ass today in a way that was not graceful and wow hours later my ass still hurts.

I am ready for the snow to melt now please. Also, for Christmas to be over. And for my baby to quit trying to kill herself on various parts of my house. And to take a vacation--even though that is unlikely to happen any time soon.

I will settle for the snow melting.

I do love my seat warmers in my car though. Whoever invented that shit deserves some sort of prize. Like the Nobel Peace Prize. That seems extreme but I didn't kill anyone Saturday morning when I was out and about and I might have had I been even one degree colder than I already was. Butt warming technology saves lives.

Dreamer

As a little girl I was "smart." I was a good student, well behaved, got good grades. I had to study a little, just enough to have to try, but not enough to have to work too hard. I helped my classmates along. I grew up to be a good high school student, got into a good college and I had no plan at all of what to do when I got there. I had no plan, no goals and no focus. And for the longest time I have been dealing with the fall out of that. What happens when the girl who could do anything grows up and does nothing?

I've been ashamed, when in reality I know that I have nothing to be ashamed of. I have built a career for myself, I have a beautiful home, I have an amazing family. But I haven't done anything special with my career. I can't shake the feeling that I've been too safe.

I remember never being able to answer, "what are you going to be when you grow up?" Not ever really. I do remember having some ideas--ideas that were ruled impractical by my parents. Now, I do not blame them, they were just trying to help. But I never found a goal that was just right.

I never learned how to dream.

I am thirty years old. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I still don't have any idea where I am headed. But there is the tiniest of dreams stewing in my head. The beginning. And I am gearing up to leap in the way that I should have when I was seventeen or eighteen or even twenty-five. But I am getting there.

I still love getting A's in classes. I still love to be the smart girl. But I am learning to love being a dreamer.

Hate Winter

I am so very bored of the snow. It is icy and cold and slick and gah I haven't been to the office since Tuesday. As much as it is interesting to work in my jammies I would like very much to be able to be out and about. And also, to talk about something besides the damn weather.

Don't mind me, I am just pissed off.

I Guess I Just Fail

A couple of months ago I posted because the kid had popped up on her hands and knees and squirmed around. I believe I said, the not dramatic at all "HOLY SHIT MY LIFE IS OVER."

And then she never did it again.

Sure, she became the master of rolling around from place to place and girlfriend could scoot backwards faster than I can run (which, is not that fast but still fast on your stomach). So I was the Mama Who Cried CRAWL and J was convinced I was making it all up.

Well Friday morning she started doing the whole army man crawl--like a sniper stalking her kill--to being able to scramble around the house at a rapid clip on all fours. For a couple of weeks she has been cruising slowly around all the furniture but now she pretty much runs while hanging on to the couch and coffee table.

I fear we are getting awfully close to toddling.

I swear, just when I get comfortable the baby changes all the rules on me. Now it's about trying to make sure there is nothing on the floor that will kill her dead RIGHT NOW. And also not letting her impale herself on the coffee table. Damn, it sounds easier typed out like that.

Missed the Baby

Ramona just spent two nights with my parents (well my mother, if I am honest, because my dad does toy pick up duty and funny face making duty and well strap her in the carseat duty but everything else is all Grandma) and I feel a little weird about the whole thing.

On one hand, it was good for everyone. J and I went to see Robin Williams Friday night (hilarious, alarming and clearly coked out) and had drinks with friends. We slept in both mornings. We met people out at a bar to celebrate J's birthday. We got massages! It was like a vacation. We ate meals without having to entertain a tiny dictator. We drove without trying to calculate nap time. We stayed up late without paying a terrible price. And that was good. Also, my parents clearly had a ball. The baby got to have alone time with her grandparents and be adored. Everyone is a winner.

On the other, I missed her. This makes me feel a little pathetic really. But for all my bitching about the drudgery of being a mom, and how the hour between five and six every day is excrutiating, I still am a mom. And I still love my baby girl. I guess I can't really get through the day without munching some baby feet and smelling her little curls and playing peekaboo. I guess this means I am officially even less cool than I was before (which . . .is not easy). And also that I am going to have to come up with something. Since she is rapidly approaching toddlerhood.

I am such a fucking sap aren't I?

Muddling

There is just a soupy mess in my head. The meat of last week--work induced exhaustion + gratitude inspired by the holiday. Bits of cute baby stuff--she's been scooting her car around the house backwards and begged for pie at Thanksgiving. And the spices are the current economy, a bunch of work nonsense and that stupid baby formula contamination. Yeah, I have heartburn.

I don't know how to sort through it all. Feels like there are no answers to anything. I just keep muddling through it. I suppose that is what we are all doing.

Small Scare

My mother fell down the stairs today.

Luckily, she is fine. She is bruised and sore and staying the hell home from work tomorrow (griping all the way) but fine. She tripped and tried to steady herself and slammed everything on the railing. It sounds like her co-workers panicked a bit and had her on the backboard and everything.

My mother is sixty-one years old. Which isn't old but it isn't young either. She is more fragile than she used to be.

Actually, both of my parents are. They are frailer. My father can't do big projects on his own (we often try to go down and help). J doesn't ask my dad to come do things around our house anymore because he doesn't want him to hurt himself. My mother tires when we go out for the day.

I suppose I was in denial about all of this.

I was so worried, am so worried. Because I cannot handle it if anything happens to my parents. I still need them, Ramona needs them. This is our family. Everyone needs to stay safe and healthy.

And my mother needs to stay away from stairs.

Off To Paraguay

So a few weeks ago I caved to the demands of my pal L and signed up for Facebook. It's been an interesting experience, I think half of my high school is on there. Since I skipped my reunion I got to have all my "WHAT THE FUCK HE HAS SIX KIDS?!" moments at home like God intended. And I didn't have to hit the gym or diet. AWESOME.

And it's been largely a fun experience. I've had lunch with an old friend, one I had forgotten how much I used to enjoy. I get to see adorable pictures of everyone's kids. It's a low committment thing.

But today an ex-boyfriend friended me. And I accepted automatically.

I wish I could take it back actually. I didn't mean to hit accept. And now, with the conventions of Facebook, I can't take it back without making it a Thing. Something that has more meaning than it really does. God am I mindfucking this much?

This person was mean to me. That seems like a small thing doesn't it. But he was cruel and really messed me up for a long time. I don't know that he meant to be, I don't care. I am over it but I don't really want to deal with him again. Not even in my social networking life.

Really, I should be able to launch him to Paraguay with just the powers of my mind. That is the kind of skill a girl should be able to cultivate.

And Now I Love Cher

I am socially stupid. I don't make small talk well, am actually reserved when I first meet some one (and then cannot stop talking once we are friends) and wow I just don't like to put in the time for a lot of friends (WOW I AM AN ASSHOLE). J juggles dozens of friends but I can't manage it and it gives me hives just thinking about it.

I do have girlfriends. But my best friend lives in Denver. And a lot of my friends live far from me or are in the same situation as I am--super busy with small children. So it's not like we are out boozing on Saturday nights.

But J bought me tickets to go see Kathy Griffin and he really didn't want to go. So he devised a scheme to get me to take a friend of his' wife. Which she and I have met and I genuinely like her but still. Did my husband fix me up on a date?

YES HE DID.

And it was awesome. Just the right amount of small talk. Wickedly funny show. And look at me staying up to a big girl bed time on a weekend. Sounds like MoMo didn't even miss me.

Plus, Kathy Griffin did an awesome bit about Cher!

PRILF

Aw I do love the way the internet gets all worked up on a Sunday afternoon.

Her Bad Mother, Mom 101 and Moxie are just a few throwing their two cents in. But Twitter was all . . . well a twitter with the whole Motrin debacle.

To catch you up, if you do not follow internet mommy drama, Motrin has a new ad out (view here ). It is a rather unfunny ad that is semi-insulting to it's target (moms). The internet has viewed the ad and BAM. Motrin is getting killed via the blogosphere (and have since removed the ad I think).

As much as I did not get offended and insulted by the ad as many did, I do see their point. Mainly because I am tired of the Momification of everything. Jonniker wrote some interesting things on this last week but damn I am tired of being marketed to, spoken to, and treated exclusively as a Mom. It started during the election, when I realized that I was in that coveted Middle Class White Mom demographic, that I started feeling insulted by the crap I was supposed to be moved by. Now I notice that almost every damn commercial is targeted to me. Talking condescendingly about how busy I am, how stupid my husband must be, how CHOOSY I have to be about everything in my house. GAH.

The internet is no different. And while I find Mommy Blogs compelling and interesting (some of them anyway), and am glad that women have found ways to earn money and respect through this medium sometimes it feels so overwrought. The Momversations thing (which I am not linking) and that kerfuffle over Johnston and Johnston's junket a while back. It's all just more commercials and cynical bullshit. Honestly, you don't have to put a white lady in capri pants with an exasperated look on her face to sell me something. I am interested in the same things other people are. Books, music, politics, good food, something to make my ass look smaller and my boobs higher and well yes--something to clean my house with that doesn't kill the baby. Companies that have products that cater to that and don't treat me like I am silly and stupid would get my business.

But I am oddly not annoyed with Motrin. It's all been done before, even more tastelessly. The whole Milfy Cougar shit makes my blood boil a lot more. I wish that there was a way for a woman to be not hyper sexualized or asexual in our culture but for the moment there really isn't.

Motrin might have been better off with the Tagline "Pain Reliever You'd Like to Fuck" at any rate.

Sad How Little a Jackpot I Need

Some one is some sort of mothering genius and will undoubtedly (and dude I hope you do!) comment with a brilliant solution to this, but when I go to pick up the baby from her swimming lesson (which makes it sound like we chuck her into the water and let her sink which is what my mother thinks but NO J takes her) I get fucking SOAKED taking her into the locker room to change. I know it is because of the swim diaper which holds about eighty pounds of water (we use a containment diaper instead of disposable swimmer. Those are more convenient for us but god I just get drenched just carrying her in.

Other than that the swim lessons are brilliant. She loves the water, loves the attention and it is something fun for she and J to do together. Plus she is worn out afterwards and I am pro-anything that makes my baby sleep hard all night. I have to admit it's really adorable that she has somehow mastered a bit of a frog kick. I know it is largely an accident but still awesome and cute.

My swimming lessons (did I tell y'all about my swimming lessons) are even more fabulous. I could swim well enough that I wouldn't drown but not well enough to really swim for exercise. But that is really changing now. I cannot recommend YMCA adult lessons enough. I've really improved a lot in a very short amount of time and now my routine is to swim an hour and a half twice a week.

I want to model healthy behavior for Mo. I am a pitiful athlete and I still really struggle to see myself as an active person. It's hard to change your once you are grown. I hope that she will find something that she is passionate about that will keep her healthy and strong.

Also, it's baby free time. Rewarded with time in the steam room afterwards. It's like the mommy lottery.

Wild Weekend

We don't entertain much. So it always sends me into a tailspin whenever we have people over. I am not sure why, since it's not like anyone expects Martha's house or anything. But having guests makes me steam clean the floors and worry about air fresheners. It's messed up but at least the floors are clean.

We hardly ever see these friends and it was great fun to catch up and just let the kids play. I fried steaks in butter (delicious) and we just sat around. When you have small kids this passes for a wild Saturday night. Sadly, about ten minutes before they arrived my head started buzzing with the beginnings of a migraine.

I fought and fought it off and was managing until it was getting late and the baby was screeching (up way past her bedtime and tired of being good) and their daughter was crying because she was up past her bedtime and oh I was at the end of my rope. By the time I was feeding the baby before bed my scalp was cracking I swear (why didn't it occur to me to ask J to put her to bed? NO IDEA I AM BRILLIANT).

Ten minutes later I was weeping on the floor because I couldn't relax enough to lay down. J rubbed my neck and I just shook I hurt so much. And then I went and barfed up my steak. I took a couple of Tylenol PMs and PASSED the eff out. At eight at night. All night I ached and ached and had messed up dreams. Dreams where I was being held by the CIA and there were tunnels and WOW I CANNOT EXPLAIN THIS. Let it be said that sleep aids plus a migraine = shit that should not be dreamed.

This morning I woke up all hung over. Which is especially unfair since I was the only one not drinking a thing. I swear, it was like J stayed up late and smacked the crap out of me with a crowbar. My parents were over this afternoon and I passed out on the couch while they played with the baby. I was just a wrung out rag all day.

Pathetic. My wild weekend.

And We Ate Cake

Today I am just feeling joy and excitement. I feel so hopeful for this country. I feel so connected to my community. I am so proud of all of us.

I recognize that for so many, yesterday did not go as they had hoped. But I hope that they too see our country moving toward rebuilding itself. And that we all try to push forward and create something special.

This is a time for celebration and hope. And I am not (too) embarrassed to admit how much I have cried in the last twenty-four hours. I slept peacefully last night (until awakened by the tiny dictator in the next room who doesn't care about history) and awoke trying to figure out what to do with all this productive energy.

J and I watched the returns with excitement and fear. We didn't blink because we were afraid it would stop happening. And we ate cake.

Vote

Like a lot of people I am just emotionally spent by this election. I believe J started obsessing about it in November 2004 and WOW. I need it to be over. I do not think it is an exaggeration at all to say that this is the most important election of my lifetime. I believe this is a time when our country will turn a corner. Regardless of how you feel about the candidates, please vote your conscience on which way that turn should go.

Until it is over my anxiety is cranked up to eleven. I know the pundits are calling it my way but I felt hopeful before and actually that isn't helping. I still think it could be stolen. I am like a ball of freak out.

J is staying home tomorrow to drive the elderly to the polls and then drinking himself silly (either way). I am just trying to stay calm. And maybe when it is all over we can talk, think, dream about something else. And the headache that I have had for a month will go away.

I am going to tell my daughter about tomorrow. I just hope it's the beginning of a great story.

Happy Halloween

When I was a teen it was considered cool to go to Haunted Houses on Halloween. You would pay ten bucks to go into a dark warehouse full of strobe lights and a guy with a chainsaw who would jump out and chase you down a hall. Scared the shit out of me. And I hate being scared. I don't like horror movies or even mildly startling ones. I don't like roller coasters. I don't like surprise endings.

And I hate haunted houses.

My idea of Halloween fun is the kind for little kids. I like costumes that make you look fuzzy and mini Kit Kat bars. Anything else is beyond me.

Today I dressed my baby as a skunk (free costume from a friend of mine's son). And damn she was cute. We went to a downtown Everett Trick or Treat event so she could look at all the kids in their costumes. And damn, we will totally do that again. Lots of kids, lots of candy all wrapped up in a festive non-scary atmosphere. I hope we go again next year.

I'm already planning the family costume.

Beautiful

Ramona is beautiful. This is, understandably, not the most objective statement I have ever typed. And yet I think it is hard to deny. She has a big smile and huge blue eyes. But also a sparkly personality--she flirts and waves and grins at everyone she meets.

I am aware that people pay attention to babies. I am a baby gawker myself--I stop and make faces, admire their outfit, make an ass of myself. But we can't go anywhere without people tripping all over themselves to talk to Ramona. At the Y, when we go for her swim lessons, everyone comes to admire her. The other baby in her class only gets attention from his mother and the teacher. I have lost count of how many people stop me to tell me she should be in commercials. How many people emailed me Gap's Baby Model contest demanding that I enter her.

She clearly loves the attention and, for now, I think it is good for her to interact with so many people. And who wouldn't enjoy having their baby be almost universally admired (GOD, could I sound like even more of an asshole)?

I do worry. See, I was that cute baby before (though I don't know that I ever got so much attention). But I outgrew those looks and became a completely ordinary person. Since, my husband is just on the handsome side of normal and I am the plain side of normal I doubt that Ramona will grow into some sort of raving beauty. The world is kind to those who are especially beautiful--but I can't help but think that her being just plain normal isn't a bad thing either.

What I do worry about, probably prematurely, is that she is admired so much for her looks. That she will be sad when that attention is gone, but also be more upset than is healthy. I want my daughter to know that she is beautiful but I hope that she grows up and realizes that it really isn't that important. I don't want her to value looks above everything else. I don't want her self-esteem to crash down around her ankles during the awkward years to come.

There is also the gender issue. Would everyone focus so much on her appearance if she were a boy (probably)? I am ridiculously careful about complementing her skills (you sat up so SO LONG without falling down, you got stuck under the coffee table again but you DO IT SO WELL) instead of just her prettiness. It's like this ridiculous circle of stupid. But I can't help worrying about it. I have to admit that I am worried that she will be this beautiful child and grow into a less than gorgeous adult and WOW. Self esteem crush.

I am sure she will be fine. We all will be. And one day she will morph into a plain little girl. And I will still tell her she is the most beautiful girl in the world.