There is this man I know who has changed my thought on men. He is kind, generous, loving and doesn't try to be macho when he isn't or pretend to know about things he doesn't. He is just him, take it or leave it.
There is this man I know who has taught me how to love. He is giving, sincere, honest and doesn't tell me things just because I want to hear them or take things the wrong way when I am mad. He is just him, take it or leave it.
There is this man I know who has taught me what it is to live. He is beyond humorous, fun, patient and tries new things, no matter how big or small. He is just him, take it or leave it.
There is this man I know who has made me the happiest wife and mother on earth. That man is my husband and he is perfect as just him, and I'll take it.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Today I saw a rainbow
This morning was like any other morning. I didn't want to get out of bed. I am so tired in the mornings, but I hear Miss P cooing in there and hubby getting ready for work, so I know I HAVE to get my butt out of bed. It was 7:30a (a little late for me) when I finally decided to leave my mattress. I brushed my teeth, changed the baby and said good-bye to hubby for the day.
That was when my morning changed. I noticed hubby pull back into the driveway. I just thought he forgot his sunglasses or wallet, not too surprising (he tends to lose things). Anyhow he came busting in the door and immediately opened our back door yelling to me to "come see this!" I took Miss P off the boob, apologized for interrupting her breakfast and hurried outside...and I am so glad I did.
There was the most amazing rainbow hanging in the sky I had ever seen. It stood in the sky perfectly. It was as if it had always been there just waiting for the right moment to show itself. Hubby, Miss P and I just stood there quietly and gazed at the colors placed so beautifully in an arch. We identified ROYGBIV and took a couple of pictures.
It is amazing how one thing can change the course of your day. That rainbow actually elated me and reminded me of nature's beauty and wonders.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
New toys
I put Miss P in her Johnny Jump Up the other day and she LOVED it. It only took her about 10 minutes to realize she can turn and watch the dogs or see what I am up to, and also to bounce. She loves to use her little legs to bounce her up and down. The best part is, I think she likes the feeling of independence. She loves to be held, but she also likes to have her "own" thing going on. She gets that from her mom.
At first I was a little leery because you just clasp it above the door frame, but it holds pretty firmly - especially when baby is in the seat. It seems to pull the clasps tighter together against the wall when she is in it. She doesn't bounce all that aggressively, yet. I am sure I will rethink putting her in it when she grows a bit more. Right now, at a whole 13 pounds, I feel pretty safe about her bouncing around.
Of course, the first time I put her in it I had to take a ton of pictures. She was so damn cute, how could I resist?. I think hubby gets annoyed when I say "grab the camera" because I already have over 2,000 pictures of her in our iPhoto; but, those are 2,000 pictures of her I will NEVER get to take again. Pictures of hubby and I are old hat - we pretty much look the same day after day, but Miss P changes everyday and I need to be sure to document it. Luckily, I am more organized with her pictures and backing them up than I am with the laundry.
At first I was a little leery because you just clasp it above the door frame, but it holds pretty firmly - especially when baby is in the seat. It seems to pull the clasps tighter together against the wall when she is in it. She doesn't bounce all that aggressively, yet. I am sure I will rethink putting her in it when she grows a bit more. Right now, at a whole 13 pounds, I feel pretty safe about her bouncing around.
Of course, the first time I put her in it I had to take a ton of pictures. She was so damn cute, how could I resist?. I think hubby gets annoyed when I say "grab the camera" because I already have over 2,000 pictures of her in our iPhoto; but, those are 2,000 pictures of her I will NEVER get to take again. Pictures of hubby and I are old hat - we pretty much look the same day after day, but Miss P changes everyday and I need to be sure to document it. Luckily, I am more organized with her pictures and backing them up than I am with the laundry.
Friday, September 22, 2006
First taste of cereal!
Miss P had her first taste of something other than breastmilk yesterday! I fed her baby rice cereal and she LOVED it. No spitting, no bad faces, no refusal - I was so happy about that. I thought it was a good time to start her because she wanted to eat this double chocolate chip cookie I was eating while visiting my friend Daryl. I thought that starting her out on a processed cookie from the grocery bakery was a bad idea, plus Daryl yelled at me (well, not really).
Honestly, though, I was a little apprehensive about starting her on solid food (she is almost 5 months) because I was afraid it'd be just as difficult as breastfeeding. I had a horrible time doing the boobie dance with Miss P. It was one of the most challenging experiences I have ever had. Everything I had read said it was the best thing for baby and that it was the most natural thing for baby...well, it didn't seem natural at all when I was first doing it. It took Miss P and I three months to finally get to the point where she was a "natural nurser." I thought getting her to eat rice cereal was going to be just as difficult, but it was the complete opposite.
She sat in her bouncy with two bibs (one was already on for drool and I was too lazy to take it off). And as soon as the spoon hit her mouth she opened up. I was amazed and overjoyed at the same time. It was the cutest thing ever. She had a great time being fed and even ate the entire bowl! One WHOLE tablespoon of cereal and FOUR whole tablespoons of breastmilk...hahaha! It is hard to know how much a tablespoon of breastmilk is, so I just pulled a few one ounce bags out of the freezer. Everything I read said DON'T WASTE BREASTMILK because it is liquid gold. So, the left over milk I had I just fed to the dogs....just joking.
Anyhow, I am so happy I think I'll feed it to her again today.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Dreams of the east coast
Hubby and I discussed moving back out east where he is from, and I was actually liking the idea. I love the east coast. I don't miss living in NYC, but I do miss the surrounding states.
A big part of the reason I want to move out east is because I have a very good friend that lives in Boston. I met her when I was working at a trendy tourist restaraunt in the Village. She was this spunky, beautiful girl with the most amazing personality. I don't think she has a mean bone in her body unless she is joking around. You know the type of friend who just clicks with you and you automatically feel comfortable and secure? Well, that is her. She's awesome.
It sucks that we live so many miles apart. It'd be great to just call her up and meet for lunch or coffee, or ICE CREAM. She'd be a great surrogate mom to Miss P. I know Miss P will adore her when she meets her.
My friend was just really on my mind this morning. She and I would try to get into trouble by being loud and obnoxious or by just doing silly things. I went out to visit her for Halloween a few years ago. We bought tickets to a witch's ball in Salem, Mass and planned to just get freaked out. It was pretty cool - and we did get freaked out.
When we first arrived we were starving, and the invite said they'd have finger food. We pigged out on the appetizers and drank a few glasses of red wine. The witches came in and set up the evening making us feel like we were really part of Hogwarts or something. We then had to walk into this room under a trellis of dried chicken feet on red yarn. They asked if we wanted one. Hell, yes! I think we had the same thought running through our heads: that an ugly dried chicken foot will make the perfect practical joke at some point in time during my visit.
Anyhow, we tried to conceal our laughter through the whole event. I, of course, was trying to be serious, and she, of course, was making fun of everything the witch said. I was peeing my pants. Then at the end of the thing he "initiated" us into the coven...or whatever they called it. We had to go up and get ashes on our foreheads - they were of a cross. When we looked at each other we weren't laughing anymore, we were truly scared. SO scared we had to drink another glass of red wine. ha!
Well, the next day we felt kind of rough and decided to get out for breakfast and enjoy the fresh air. That is when we realized we had those chicken feet. One ended up hanging from a tree in front of her condo building and the other was left on a subway seat on the T (T or L? I can't remember what is in Boston). It was hysterical to see people's faces as they rushed to sit in what they thought was a vacant seat. So many people went to sit on the foot and then would get a look of sheer horror as they tried to figure out what it was. I am telling you, dried chicken feet are damn ugly. Just google it, you'll see.
A big part of the reason I want to move out east is because I have a very good friend that lives in Boston. I met her when I was working at a trendy tourist restaraunt in the Village. She was this spunky, beautiful girl with the most amazing personality. I don't think she has a mean bone in her body unless she is joking around. You know the type of friend who just clicks with you and you automatically feel comfortable and secure? Well, that is her. She's awesome.
It sucks that we live so many miles apart. It'd be great to just call her up and meet for lunch or coffee, or ICE CREAM. She'd be a great surrogate mom to Miss P. I know Miss P will adore her when she meets her.
My friend was just really on my mind this morning. She and I would try to get into trouble by being loud and obnoxious or by just doing silly things. I went out to visit her for Halloween a few years ago. We bought tickets to a witch's ball in Salem, Mass and planned to just get freaked out. It was pretty cool - and we did get freaked out.
When we first arrived we were starving, and the invite said they'd have finger food. We pigged out on the appetizers and drank a few glasses of red wine. The witches came in and set up the evening making us feel like we were really part of Hogwarts or something. We then had to walk into this room under a trellis of dried chicken feet on red yarn. They asked if we wanted one. Hell, yes! I think we had the same thought running through our heads: that an ugly dried chicken foot will make the perfect practical joke at some point in time during my visit.
Anyhow, we tried to conceal our laughter through the whole event. I, of course, was trying to be serious, and she, of course, was making fun of everything the witch said. I was peeing my pants. Then at the end of the thing he "initiated" us into the coven...or whatever they called it. We had to go up and get ashes on our foreheads - they were of a cross. When we looked at each other we weren't laughing anymore, we were truly scared. SO scared we had to drink another glass of red wine. ha!
Well, the next day we felt kind of rough and decided to get out for breakfast and enjoy the fresh air. That is when we realized we had those chicken feet. One ended up hanging from a tree in front of her condo building and the other was left on a subway seat on the T (T or L? I can't remember what is in Boston). It was hysterical to see people's faces as they rushed to sit in what they thought was a vacant seat. So many people went to sit on the foot and then would get a look of sheer horror as they tried to figure out what it was. I am telling you, dried chicken feet are damn ugly. Just google it, you'll see.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Washington DC
So, I am flipping through channels and notice on the Travel Channel that the hotel they are highlighting looks vaguely familiar. As I watched I noticed that it was a hotel hubby had to make a pit stop in, if you get my drift.
Last summer I did a lot of traveling with my job, and one of my destination cities was Washington DC. I was very excited because I had never been there. The downfall was that it was hubby and I's anniversary. It ended up being great because I just extended my trip, and hubby and I went on a site-seeing weekend for our 3rd wedding anniversary.
We went to the WWII Memorial, Lincoln's Memorial, the Holocaust Museum and all of the other incredible memorials and museums located at our nation's capitol. We also ran into my sister-in-law and niece, which was a nice surprise. We walked most of the time because the weather was so nice. As we were walking back to the hotel hubby was overcome with the urge to, well, you know, splurge, so we had to stop someplace with a bathroom.
We went into this hoity toity hotel right near the White House called the Hay - Adams. There were two weddings going on, a slew of incredibly rich looking people walking in and out, and then us...hubby looking for a bathroom and me looking worried we were going to get kicked out. Hubby did find a bathroom, and a nice one I might add, at least that is what he said.
Well, it must of been a nice bathroom. From what the host of the show said, ambassadors, celebrities and VIPs stay at that hotel and pay a pretty penny to do so. And of course with such influential guests, the hotel has to offer interior decorating of the finest. The host went on and on about how luxurious the foyer was with walnut wainscoat, how lavish the rooms were and how one of the suites even had a toilet with a seat that you could heat up as you sat on it.
All I could do was crack up as I watched the segment because my memory is not of the White House white chocolate dessert or of the little nooks where you can drop your mail off and make a call, or of the custom-made bed linens, but rather of my hubby running around the first floor ready to drop a deuce at any second. And then leaving his "mark" in one of those toilets with a heated seat...and we didn't have to pay one cent!
Last summer I did a lot of traveling with my job, and one of my destination cities was Washington DC. I was very excited because I had never been there. The downfall was that it was hubby and I's anniversary. It ended up being great because I just extended my trip, and hubby and I went on a site-seeing weekend for our 3rd wedding anniversary.
We went to the WWII Memorial, Lincoln's Memorial, the Holocaust Museum and all of the other incredible memorials and museums located at our nation's capitol. We also ran into my sister-in-law and niece, which was a nice surprise. We walked most of the time because the weather was so nice. As we were walking back to the hotel hubby was overcome with the urge to, well, you know, splurge, so we had to stop someplace with a bathroom.
We went into this hoity toity hotel right near the White House called the Hay - Adams. There were two weddings going on, a slew of incredibly rich looking people walking in and out, and then us...hubby looking for a bathroom and me looking worried we were going to get kicked out. Hubby did find a bathroom, and a nice one I might add, at least that is what he said.
Well, it must of been a nice bathroom. From what the host of the show said, ambassadors, celebrities and VIPs stay at that hotel and pay a pretty penny to do so. And of course with such influential guests, the hotel has to offer interior decorating of the finest. The host went on and on about how luxurious the foyer was with walnut wainscoat, how lavish the rooms were and how one of the suites even had a toilet with a seat that you could heat up as you sat on it.
All I could do was crack up as I watched the segment because my memory is not of the White House white chocolate dessert or of the little nooks where you can drop your mail off and make a call, or of the custom-made bed linens, but rather of my hubby running around the first floor ready to drop a deuce at any second. And then leaving his "mark" in one of those toilets with a heated seat...and we didn't have to pay one cent!
Monday, September 18, 2006
Today Show and Happiness
I just watched this segment on happiness on the Today Show. They were basically making the point that being happy was in your head. That you have control over being happy and not being happy. I find this very interesting because I struggle with this very emotion day in and day out.
I am very happy...at moments...with my life. Instead of keeping the momentum going I start putting barriers up and creating my own anxiety and bad moods. It is craziness. Many times I feel like if I am too happy bad things will start happening, as if I should have been more cautious with my happiness. Or I feel like I don't want to do anything that will take away the happiness because then I'll just get pissed off.
When I look back over what I have written a perfect example is Jazzercise. I was so happy to start back and everything was going to well, then Miss P got injured. Now my happiness was taken from me. As I open my eyes to how I react to things I realize I am in the driver's seat of my emotions. I could let that incident totally get me down and despise that workout facility, or I can do something to change it so I am happy again. That is hard for me. I hate confrontation when I feel hurt because I hate making someone else unhappy so I can be happy again. BUT, I did learn from a very smart man, that if your confrontation is sincere and done with love that you won't make the other person unhappy, you will just make them understand where you are coming from.
Anyhow, I plan to be more in control of my happiness. I want my baby to have a happy life with a mother who enjoys each day. Not someone who finds things wrong with her life all the time - making her OWNSELF unhappy. I am really going to try, at least!
I am very happy...at moments...with my life. Instead of keeping the momentum going I start putting barriers up and creating my own anxiety and bad moods. It is craziness. Many times I feel like if I am too happy bad things will start happening, as if I should have been more cautious with my happiness. Or I feel like I don't want to do anything that will take away the happiness because then I'll just get pissed off.
When I look back over what I have written a perfect example is Jazzercise. I was so happy to start back and everything was going to well, then Miss P got injured. Now my happiness was taken from me. As I open my eyes to how I react to things I realize I am in the driver's seat of my emotions. I could let that incident totally get me down and despise that workout facility, or I can do something to change it so I am happy again. That is hard for me. I hate confrontation when I feel hurt because I hate making someone else unhappy so I can be happy again. BUT, I did learn from a very smart man, that if your confrontation is sincere and done with love that you won't make the other person unhappy, you will just make them understand where you are coming from.
Anyhow, I plan to be more in control of my happiness. I want my baby to have a happy life with a mother who enjoys each day. Not someone who finds things wrong with her life all the time - making her OWNSELF unhappy. I am really going to try, at least!
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Halloween is Coming!
Witches will be after you! Big black cats and flying bats....oooooooohhh BOO!
Halloween has always been on of my most favorite holidays, and when I saw the sign "Halloween Express Open" I almost peed my pants. Halloween Express is a cheesy Halloween store with bad costumes, BUT, it does signify that the holiday is on its way. And, of course I will be going to check it out for the sheer thrill of seeing goofy monster masks, fake stone gargoyle statues, bagged costumes, and the oh so helpful staff that just kind of stands there when you are ready to pay as if they have no IDEA they are actually working.
When I was younger my friend Keli's birthday was October 30, so I would always throw her a Halloween party and have all the friends over. We'd dress up and then go trick-or-treating. I have to be honest, I think we trick-or-treated until we were teenagers...and I completely remember the last time I went door-to-door for sweet confections.
I am ashamed to admit it, but I think we were 16 or 17 at the time.
My friend Tammi and I went to my cousin's neighborhood because it contained a plethora of houses with porch lights on ready to fill our sacks with Snickers, Starbursts and Tootsie Rolls. Tammi was dressed up like Jason from Friday the 13th and I was probably a vampire (can't even remember). We had been going door-to-door for about an hour and had SO much candy it should have been illegal. As we were walking back to my cousin's house a couple of boys snatched Tammi's bag. Now, we worked LONG and HARD to get all that candy and someone just nabbing it from us was NOT going to happen.
I ran back and got my car while Tammi chased the boys. The thing is, Tammi had one of my brother's hunting knives - just for the costume, but she was waving it in the air while she chased the thieves as if she was going to use it. I think she thought she really was a mass murderer from hell, but I am not sure.
Anyhow, I drove around trying to find her. Finally I saw her. She was standing there arguing with the boys to give her candy back to her. They finally gave it back - I think when she flashed the blade they got the hint that she wasn't joking around and needed that sugar high. The boys ran off, Tammi got in the car and we went home. I remember laughing hysterically for at least 20 minutes at the sight of Tammi chasing down boys for that bag of free candy. I laugh now because it seems so ridiculous that we were begging on Beggar's Night at an age when we should have been handing candy out instead of taking it. But, heh, you are only young once, and to tell you the truth at 30 something I'll still jump at the chance to get free candy.
Halloween has always been on of my most favorite holidays, and when I saw the sign "Halloween Express Open" I almost peed my pants. Halloween Express is a cheesy Halloween store with bad costumes, BUT, it does signify that the holiday is on its way. And, of course I will be going to check it out for the sheer thrill of seeing goofy monster masks, fake stone gargoyle statues, bagged costumes, and the oh so helpful staff that just kind of stands there when you are ready to pay as if they have no IDEA they are actually working.
When I was younger my friend Keli's birthday was October 30, so I would always throw her a Halloween party and have all the friends over. We'd dress up and then go trick-or-treating. I have to be honest, I think we trick-or-treated until we were teenagers...and I completely remember the last time I went door-to-door for sweet confections.
I am ashamed to admit it, but I think we were 16 or 17 at the time.
My friend Tammi and I went to my cousin's neighborhood because it contained a plethora of houses with porch lights on ready to fill our sacks with Snickers, Starbursts and Tootsie Rolls. Tammi was dressed up like Jason from Friday the 13th and I was probably a vampire (can't even remember). We had been going door-to-door for about an hour and had SO much candy it should have been illegal. As we were walking back to my cousin's house a couple of boys snatched Tammi's bag. Now, we worked LONG and HARD to get all that candy and someone just nabbing it from us was NOT going to happen.
I ran back and got my car while Tammi chased the boys. The thing is, Tammi had one of my brother's hunting knives - just for the costume, but she was waving it in the air while she chased the thieves as if she was going to use it. I think she thought she really was a mass murderer from hell, but I am not sure.
Anyhow, I drove around trying to find her. Finally I saw her. She was standing there arguing with the boys to give her candy back to her. They finally gave it back - I think when she flashed the blade they got the hint that she wasn't joking around and needed that sugar high. The boys ran off, Tammi got in the car and we went home. I remember laughing hysterically for at least 20 minutes at the sight of Tammi chasing down boys for that bag of free candy. I laugh now because it seems so ridiculous that we were begging on Beggar's Night at an age when we should have been handing candy out instead of taking it. But, heh, you are only young once, and to tell you the truth at 30 something I'll still jump at the chance to get free candy.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Pretty crazy.
Never in my life has anything changed me like having my daughter. Not only the responsibility, but the sheer love and adoration I feel for her. And, with that adoration and love comes an intense need to make sure she is okay at all times.
The passed two days have been pretty nerve-wracking. Thursday Miss P threw a hellatious fit for two straight hours over I have no idea what. She was just bound and determined to cry and make me miserable right along with her. I couldn't do ONE thing to get her to calm down. I did have peace of mind, though. I knew she was fed, had a clean diaper, didn't have on a scratchy outfit and was warm/cool enough. At least I did my job as a provider...and then it was my job as mommy to console her. That was the hard part because I didn't know what was making her sad, and it was making me sad to see her so sad. I just cuddled her and took her outside to see the trees and birds. Finally she gave me a break and settled down. Then she was as pleasant as punch.
Friday wasn't as foggy as far as not knowing what was going on with her, it was pretty cut and dry. I knew exactly what upset her, and man did it upset me!
I took her with me to Jazzercise because they have babsitting. I looked in during the middle of my workout and noticed she was crying with a full on red face, splotches and everything. My heard just sunk. I went in to get her thinking she was just tired and was ready to go. I put her in her carrier and then I noticed what was probably causing her to cry. Her finger was gashed and all swollen. I thought it was broken.
The babysitter felt bad, but she said that the kids has been poking at her. I am thinking WHY are toddlers poking at a four month old infant? Infants can't defend themselves, that is what caregivers are for! I was so upset. More because I felt like I put her in harms way, but then I was angry because the sitters weren't keeping an eye on her. OR, this seems logical, leaving her in her carrier away from the other kids!
Anyhow, I took her to the pediatrician because her finger was bugging her and was swollen. He said that she looked as if she was bitten, but it was fine and not broken. I was so happy to hear that, but still in tears because my little girl got hurt.
My husband said I should call the owner of the facility. I need to because that is the responsible thing to do, and hopefully will keep the sitters more aware of what is going on the room. I mean, God forbid someone's kid gets really injured by another child and the mother goes ballistic. Luckily I'm cool, a little dramatic sometimes...but pretty cool.
The passed two days have been pretty nerve-wracking. Thursday Miss P threw a hellatious fit for two straight hours over I have no idea what. She was just bound and determined to cry and make me miserable right along with her. I couldn't do ONE thing to get her to calm down. I did have peace of mind, though. I knew she was fed, had a clean diaper, didn't have on a scratchy outfit and was warm/cool enough. At least I did my job as a provider...and then it was my job as mommy to console her. That was the hard part because I didn't know what was making her sad, and it was making me sad to see her so sad. I just cuddled her and took her outside to see the trees and birds. Finally she gave me a break and settled down. Then she was as pleasant as punch.
Friday wasn't as foggy as far as not knowing what was going on with her, it was pretty cut and dry. I knew exactly what upset her, and man did it upset me!
I took her with me to Jazzercise because they have babsitting. I looked in during the middle of my workout and noticed she was crying with a full on red face, splotches and everything. My heard just sunk. I went in to get her thinking she was just tired and was ready to go. I put her in her carrier and then I noticed what was probably causing her to cry. Her finger was gashed and all swollen. I thought it was broken.
The babysitter felt bad, but she said that the kids has been poking at her. I am thinking WHY are toddlers poking at a four month old infant? Infants can't defend themselves, that is what caregivers are for! I was so upset. More because I felt like I put her in harms way, but then I was angry because the sitters weren't keeping an eye on her. OR, this seems logical, leaving her in her carrier away from the other kids!
Anyhow, I took her to the pediatrician because her finger was bugging her and was swollen. He said that she looked as if she was bitten, but it was fine and not broken. I was so happy to hear that, but still in tears because my little girl got hurt.
My husband said I should call the owner of the facility. I need to because that is the responsible thing to do, and hopefully will keep the sitters more aware of what is going on the room. I mean, God forbid someone's kid gets really injured by another child and the mother goes ballistic. Luckily I'm cool, a little dramatic sometimes...but pretty cool.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Excercise can be fun?
Okay, so I am finally in the mode to workout again!! Yay for me!
I joined Jazzercise this week...well, actually rejoined. I quit a year and half ago to workout at a gym - bad move. The gym I was going to was such a sterile atmosphere with a bad paint job and full of testosterone. The classes were your basic aerobics or step with little imagination or enthusiasm. I don't think I ever saw a smile on a girl's face when I walked in for class. When I got pregnant it was easy to slack off and eventually quit my membership. At Jazzercise women are chatting, smiling and laughing no matter what time of the day it is and are clearly happy to be there. I like that positivity. It really puts me in a good mood, plus gets me excited to workout.
I have been jazzercising for a very long time now, off and one for almost 20 years. Yes, I started when I was around twelve years old. I am impressed with how it has stayed around and spread across the nation. It is a lot of fun, so I am not surprised. I thought it would be more difficult to go since I have Miss P, but my location offers FREE babysitting. I have been twice this week and the women who have been watching the children are friendly and I trust them with my child. They all seem to have children of their own and understand a mom's need to get an hour to herself.
Today I did regular Jazzercise. I am pretty sure I will be sore tomorrow. The instructor focused on our thighs, butt and inner thighs the whole time, which is good since that is the biggest area on my body at this point in time. I saw a friend of mine, chatted with someone I knew from before and chitchatted with a few other women who were incredibly sweet. I think I'll stick with it this time. If not only to get into my size 8's, but to enjoy some time to myself and meet new friends.
I joined Jazzercise this week...well, actually rejoined. I quit a year and half ago to workout at a gym - bad move. The gym I was going to was such a sterile atmosphere with a bad paint job and full of testosterone. The classes were your basic aerobics or step with little imagination or enthusiasm. I don't think I ever saw a smile on a girl's face when I walked in for class. When I got pregnant it was easy to slack off and eventually quit my membership. At Jazzercise women are chatting, smiling and laughing no matter what time of the day it is and are clearly happy to be there. I like that positivity. It really puts me in a good mood, plus gets me excited to workout.
I have been jazzercising for a very long time now, off and one for almost 20 years. Yes, I started when I was around twelve years old. I am impressed with how it has stayed around and spread across the nation. It is a lot of fun, so I am not surprised. I thought it would be more difficult to go since I have Miss P, but my location offers FREE babysitting. I have been twice this week and the women who have been watching the children are friendly and I trust them with my child. They all seem to have children of their own and understand a mom's need to get an hour to herself.
Today I did regular Jazzercise. I am pretty sure I will be sore tomorrow. The instructor focused on our thighs, butt and inner thighs the whole time, which is good since that is the biggest area on my body at this point in time. I saw a friend of mine, chatted with someone I knew from before and chitchatted with a few other women who were incredibly sweet. I think I'll stick with it this time. If not only to get into my size 8's, but to enjoy some time to myself and meet new friends.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Worry...
I have come to the realization that the bain of my existence is that small little thing called worry. I get concerned over EVERYTHING and it is driving me nuts. My hubby and I had a conversation about it yesterday and figured out that my bad moods, sore neck, fear of my own demise, overeating, and headaches all stem from worry.
I don't know if it is my hormones still working through my body after giving birth, or the sheer madness I feel being a first time mother...I don't know, but it consumes me.
Here are the silly things, and some not so silly things, that torment me:
-All things baby - will I accidentally drop her, is she eating enough, is she sleeping enough, why is she crying, did I forget to wash my hands before picking her up, will she choke on her spit....you get the point.
-If I get up at 7am with the baby, when will I get to nap so I am not a total bitch when my husband comes home.
-I want to start exercising, but will I need to get new shoes.
-I go to drive somewhere and freak out over the possibility of someone hitting my car.
-I make dinner, but will I overcook it and will my hubby like it.
-Will I read something incorrectly on my prof's syllabus and turn something in late.
The list could go on and on. I really need to stop it!!
Maybe it is because I have more time on my hands to think than I did when I was working. Staying home with baby gives me some quiet moments, and I should cherish those and use them to my benefit instead of thinking of things that will probably never happen!!
I don't know if it is my hormones still working through my body after giving birth, or the sheer madness I feel being a first time mother...I don't know, but it consumes me.
Here are the silly things, and some not so silly things, that torment me:
-All things baby - will I accidentally drop her, is she eating enough, is she sleeping enough, why is she crying, did I forget to wash my hands before picking her up, will she choke on her spit....you get the point.
-If I get up at 7am with the baby, when will I get to nap so I am not a total bitch when my husband comes home.
-I want to start exercising, but will I need to get new shoes.
-I go to drive somewhere and freak out over the possibility of someone hitting my car.
-I make dinner, but will I overcook it and will my hubby like it.
-Will I read something incorrectly on my prof's syllabus and turn something in late.
The list could go on and on. I really need to stop it!!
Maybe it is because I have more time on my hands to think than I did when I was working. Staying home with baby gives me some quiet moments, and I should cherish those and use them to my benefit instead of thinking of things that will probably never happen!!
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Shopgirl...diary or novella?
Hubby and I watched an indy film called Shopgirl written by Steve Martin (yes, that JERK). Clare Daines starred and Jason Swartzman (that hairy bastard) also starred in the movie.
It was basically about a girl who moved to LA and met a penniless pauper who was into her and a rich no-good who pretended to be into her. The rich no-good was played by Steve Martin. His character was very romantic, swept Clare right off her feet, bought her gorgeous clothing and jewelry, and had sex with her ALL the time. Then he dumped her like last night's garbage when he was through.
This sounds oh-so-exciting, doesn't it? Well, not really, the movie was kind of slow and the dialogue wasn't exceptional by any stretch of the means, but the movie kept us interested...by our own speculation.
It almost seemed like the movie was an "I'm Sorry" message from Stevie to a little Saks Fifth Avenue make-up counter hussy. Not, I am not trying to make up some conspiracy theory or anything, just reading between the lines. And the message seems to be very obvious, if you really care to think about it. Here goes:
-The movie was a novella written by Stevie himself, directed and starred in by Stevie himself as well.
-He narrated some parts of the movie...the narration is written to tell the story, but the things he says are like he is talking to the viewer trying to send a little message.
-And the turn of events are too REAL, but not done in a cool way like "Lost in Translation."
Maybe the little hussy he cheated on his wife with said, "I'll tell if you don't make a movie about what happened with us." OR "I want to be in the movie," and the little hussy was really Clare Daines. OR maybe it is just a movie and Stevie was trying to be clever and it just didn't work.
I don't know...like I wrote above, just speculation.
It was basically about a girl who moved to LA and met a penniless pauper who was into her and a rich no-good who pretended to be into her. The rich no-good was played by Steve Martin. His character was very romantic, swept Clare right off her feet, bought her gorgeous clothing and jewelry, and had sex with her ALL the time. Then he dumped her like last night's garbage when he was through.
This sounds oh-so-exciting, doesn't it? Well, not really, the movie was kind of slow and the dialogue wasn't exceptional by any stretch of the means, but the movie kept us interested...by our own speculation.
It almost seemed like the movie was an "I'm Sorry" message from Stevie to a little Saks Fifth Avenue make-up counter hussy. Not, I am not trying to make up some conspiracy theory or anything, just reading between the lines. And the message seems to be very obvious, if you really care to think about it. Here goes:
-The movie was a novella written by Stevie himself, directed and starred in by Stevie himself as well.
-He narrated some parts of the movie...the narration is written to tell the story, but the things he says are like he is talking to the viewer trying to send a little message.
-And the turn of events are too REAL, but not done in a cool way like "Lost in Translation."
Maybe the little hussy he cheated on his wife with said, "I'll tell if you don't make a movie about what happened with us." OR "I want to be in the movie," and the little hussy was really Clare Daines. OR maybe it is just a movie and Stevie was trying to be clever and it just didn't work.
I don't know...like I wrote above, just speculation.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Shopping is for the birds.
So, why is it when you shop for something specific that you want to add to your wardrobe you can NEVER find it?
We have a friend who is a professional photographer, and as a gift for bringing Miss P into the world she was giving us a family session for free. I asked her what she thought we should wear. Her advice was terrific. Put everyone in something timeless so when you look back it isn't a dated picture (I remember how cool I thought I looked in the 80's with my big hair and neon rubber bracelets...now I am ashamed. ha!). Anyhow, she suggested jeans and a neutral shirt.
Given this advice, I decided jeans and white shirts for the units, and a denim skirt with a cute onsie for the babe. Easy, right?
NOPE.
All I needed was a white shirt for my hubby, jeans for me and a little denim dress for Miss P. You would think that would be an easy shopping trip. It was a Scion ride through hell is what it was. I started out excited thinking, "oooh, I am going to look so cute, hubby will get a new trendy white shirt and Miss P will look adorable in anything denim." It started off like that, and as I was going through Filene's (typically has EVERYTHING) I realized, shit, I am going to have to go somewhere else...and probably to Babies R Us (don't get me wrong, their stuff is cute, but I didn't want an outfit I was going to see on 10 other babies the same day). I ended up going store to store in an endless sea of strip mall to come to the realization that I wasn't going to find a thing. I did get jeans for $15 - that was sheer luck...and considering I am a size 14 NOW and feel like a huge fat ass, that should have been enough to make me happy. Yet, alas, it was not.
Finding an all white shirt that wasn't a typical polo or an undershirt was impossible, and the baby denim outfits were metzo metzo. I was feeling a bit pissed off, and worried that my baby was starving for the boob only made matters worse. The trip ended with one pair of $15 jeans, two okay baby outfits and NO white shirt.
I got home and hubby had pulled clothing out of Miss P's closet. Low and behold, she already had some CUTE things that were given to us. He also had a white shirt he found in Narnia, and I had a cute new pair of jeans that make me look...well, like the size I am, just cuter.
Wow, did I feel better. Now that the photoshoot is over, I laugh a little at the things I was worried about...
We have a friend who is a professional photographer, and as a gift for bringing Miss P into the world she was giving us a family session for free. I asked her what she thought we should wear. Her advice was terrific. Put everyone in something timeless so when you look back it isn't a dated picture (I remember how cool I thought I looked in the 80's with my big hair and neon rubber bracelets...now I am ashamed. ha!). Anyhow, she suggested jeans and a neutral shirt.
Given this advice, I decided jeans and white shirts for the units, and a denim skirt with a cute onsie for the babe. Easy, right?
NOPE.
All I needed was a white shirt for my hubby, jeans for me and a little denim dress for Miss P. You would think that would be an easy shopping trip. It was a Scion ride through hell is what it was. I started out excited thinking, "oooh, I am going to look so cute, hubby will get a new trendy white shirt and Miss P will look adorable in anything denim." It started off like that, and as I was going through Filene's (typically has EVERYTHING) I realized, shit, I am going to have to go somewhere else...and probably to Babies R Us (don't get me wrong, their stuff is cute, but I didn't want an outfit I was going to see on 10 other babies the same day). I ended up going store to store in an endless sea of strip mall to come to the realization that I wasn't going to find a thing. I did get jeans for $15 - that was sheer luck...and considering I am a size 14 NOW and feel like a huge fat ass, that should have been enough to make me happy. Yet, alas, it was not.
Finding an all white shirt that wasn't a typical polo or an undershirt was impossible, and the baby denim outfits were metzo metzo. I was feeling a bit pissed off, and worried that my baby was starving for the boob only made matters worse. The trip ended with one pair of $15 jeans, two okay baby outfits and NO white shirt.
I got home and hubby had pulled clothing out of Miss P's closet. Low and behold, she already had some CUTE things that were given to us. He also had a white shirt he found in Narnia, and I had a cute new pair of jeans that make me look...well, like the size I am, just cuter.
Wow, did I feel better. Now that the photoshoot is over, I laugh a little at the things I was worried about...
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Baby has moved sleeping quarters...
So, last night I moved Miss P into her own room. I know it is was "about time" probably a while ago, but I was not ready. I still am not ready. She is only four months old, how can she possibly be sleeping all alone in that big crib?! Shouldn't she stay next to mommy in her co-sleeper until she is at least a year old????!!
I know it is my choice what I want to do with my baby, but I also know that eventually she would have to move into her own room. It is easier now because she doesn't have that intense separation anxiety they get around six months...so essentially I would be doing her a disservice if I made her wait to when she really understood mommy isn't right next to her. I am talking myself into this if you can't tell.
So, last night was her first night "alone" and she did GREAT! I mean GREAT! I heard her wake up a couple of times, but she put herself right back to sleep. She usually nurses once overnight and she didn't even do that! That sweet little thing slept from 9p to 8:15a this morning. Is this the way it is going to be? I don't feel so bad about her being in her crib if she is this happy and content! Let's just see what tonight brings.
Of course, being mommy, I want her to NEED me and WANT to be near me to sleep. BUT, it is quite a joy to know she is okay in the big, big world of her nursery all alone and doing just fine.
I know it is my choice what I want to do with my baby, but I also know that eventually she would have to move into her own room. It is easier now because she doesn't have that intense separation anxiety they get around six months...so essentially I would be doing her a disservice if I made her wait to when she really understood mommy isn't right next to her. I am talking myself into this if you can't tell.
So, last night was her first night "alone" and she did GREAT! I mean GREAT! I heard her wake up a couple of times, but she put herself right back to sleep. She usually nurses once overnight and she didn't even do that! That sweet little thing slept from 9p to 8:15a this morning. Is this the way it is going to be? I don't feel so bad about her being in her crib if she is this happy and content! Let's just see what tonight brings.
Of course, being mommy, I want her to NEED me and WANT to be near me to sleep. BUT, it is quite a joy to know she is okay in the big, big world of her nursery all alone and doing just fine.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
I hate shots.
Today I am taking Miss P to get her four month immunization shots. I am SO dreading it. Last night I ate the biggest bowl of chocolate ice cream with fudge on top and popcorn because I was stressing out over it.
I really don't mind shots myself. I never really have minded them. I don't even mind getting blood drawn or getting an IV hooked up to my arm. BUT, when I see the pain and tears in my little girl's eyes after she gets a shot it makes me HATE them.
When she received her two month shots the nurse had me hold her down, so I was made out like the bad guy. Miss P looked right in my eyes and started screaming. It was awful. Then I brought her home and she kept crying, so I gave her baby tylenol. That helped, but when she woke up she would cry this drowsy, I am in pain cry that just broke my heart.
I have to go through that again today...and I am so sad about it.
I really don't mind shots myself. I never really have minded them. I don't even mind getting blood drawn or getting an IV hooked up to my arm. BUT, when I see the pain and tears in my little girl's eyes after she gets a shot it makes me HATE them.
When she received her two month shots the nurse had me hold her down, so I was made out like the bad guy. Miss P looked right in my eyes and started screaming. It was awful. Then I brought her home and she kept crying, so I gave her baby tylenol. That helped, but when she woke up she would cry this drowsy, I am in pain cry that just broke my heart.
I have to go through that again today...and I am so sad about it.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Thank you cards.
So, what is a thank you card? I looked up the definition and this is what was written:
I had to actually look up greeting card:
greeting card is an illustrated, folded card usually featuring a message of greeting or other sentiment. Although greeting cards are usually given on special occasions such as birthdays, Christmas or other holidays, they are also sent on 'non-occasions' to say 'hello' or 'thank you'. Greeting cards, usually packaged with an envelope, come in a variety of styles, are manufactured and/or hand-made by hundreds of companies big and small. (thanks to Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greeting_card)
A thank you is:
thank you - a conversational expression of gratitude
thanks - an acknowledgment of appreciation (thanks to dictionary.com)
Well, given those definitions I take a "thank you card" to mean an illustrated, folded card that contains some words of appreciation.
That means, when you want to thank someone for what they did, what they said or a nice gift they gave, you thank them. Plain and simple. BUT, is a card always necessary? Is a verbal thank you or an email thank you sufficient? I live in the midwest. I send a thank you card or email for many things, and many things I think a verbal or email thank you is quite enough. Now, I am no expert in gratitude or gratitude etiquette, but I do know what warrants a grand old hearty THANK YOU.
Maybe my expectations are a bit high, but I have sent gifts or done nice things for people and have been totally ignored. I think it is plain out rude. I know guys don't really send cards - that is fine, but can they type an email, shake your hand or give you a hug? Yes.
I know that sometimes people get really busy and don't always send a thank you. That is fine, but at least acknowledge the deed at some point in time. I don't think that is a big deal...but, maybe for some people it is, and I should just accept it.
I had to actually look up greeting card:
greeting card is an illustrated, folded card usually featuring a message of greeting or other sentiment. Although greeting cards are usually given on special occasions such as birthdays, Christmas or other holidays, they are also sent on 'non-occasions' to say 'hello' or 'thank you'. Greeting cards, usually packaged with an envelope, come in a variety of styles, are manufactured and/or hand-made by hundreds of companies big and small. (thanks to Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greeting_card)
A thank you is:
thank you - a conversational expression of gratitude
thanks - an acknowledgment of appreciation (thanks to dictionary.com)
Well, given those definitions I take a "thank you card" to mean an illustrated, folded card that contains some words of appreciation.
That means, when you want to thank someone for what they did, what they said or a nice gift they gave, you thank them. Plain and simple. BUT, is a card always necessary? Is a verbal thank you or an email thank you sufficient? I live in the midwest. I send a thank you card or email for many things, and many things I think a verbal or email thank you is quite enough. Now, I am no expert in gratitude or gratitude etiquette, but I do know what warrants a grand old hearty THANK YOU.
Maybe my expectations are a bit high, but I have sent gifts or done nice things for people and have been totally ignored. I think it is plain out rude. I know guys don't really send cards - that is fine, but can they type an email, shake your hand or give you a hug? Yes.
I know that sometimes people get really busy and don't always send a thank you. That is fine, but at least acknowledge the deed at some point in time. I don't think that is a big deal...but, maybe for some people it is, and I should just accept it.
Friday, September 01, 2006
September and school
There is something about the early days of September that get me all vaclemp'd. I was the kid who always got excited to return to a new year in school. School, to me, was the start of something new: new things to do, new things to accomplish, and a new chance to apply myself and get good grades. Even now, I still get that feeling that something new is about to begin in September.
I am actually in school now to get a licensure to teach middle grades. Uhmmm...can't seem to let this school thing go. This will be my second career (as long as you don't count bartending, waiting tables or trying to get into acting as a career). My one regret is that it wasn't my first and only career. I truly wish I was grounded enough and received enough direction and advice to be an education major my first go around at college. Maybe then I would have applied myself and felt like getting a college education really meant something. But, when I was in college, I thought growing up socially was the reason I was there. I knew I needed a degree, but I really didn't understand the importance of it until I went for my first job when I lived in New York City. Then, thank goodness I had a college degree...even if it was in Ancient Roman studies (I am such a geek).
Anyhow, I am absolutely stoked about becoming a teacher, especially now that I have a child. I mean, the career is perfect for moms and for people who want to try to make a difference. I think my passed experiences and worldliness will help when I become a teacher. Hopefully, the kids will learn at least one thing from me...that it is great to at least try. Even if you don't become successful initially, the fact that you even tried something makes you a stronger and more knowleagle person. When I think about my passed experiences I realize I have all of that to share with a young person. I also realize it makes me a more compassionate and understanding person...THAT, my dear friends, is something I have evolved into being...not something my first go at college made me. And THAT will go a long way when I get my own class. Wish me luck!
I am actually in school now to get a licensure to teach middle grades. Uhmmm...can't seem to let this school thing go. This will be my second career (as long as you don't count bartending, waiting tables or trying to get into acting as a career). My one regret is that it wasn't my first and only career. I truly wish I was grounded enough and received enough direction and advice to be an education major my first go around at college. Maybe then I would have applied myself and felt like getting a college education really meant something. But, when I was in college, I thought growing up socially was the reason I was there. I knew I needed a degree, but I really didn't understand the importance of it until I went for my first job when I lived in New York City. Then, thank goodness I had a college degree...even if it was in Ancient Roman studies (I am such a geek).
Anyhow, I am absolutely stoked about becoming a teacher, especially now that I have a child. I mean, the career is perfect for moms and for people who want to try to make a difference. I think my passed experiences and worldliness will help when I become a teacher. Hopefully, the kids will learn at least one thing from me...that it is great to at least try. Even if you don't become successful initially, the fact that you even tried something makes you a stronger and more knowleagle person. When I think about my passed experiences I realize I have all of that to share with a young person. I also realize it makes me a more compassionate and understanding person...THAT, my dear friends, is something I have evolved into being...not something my first go at college made me. And THAT will go a long way when I get my own class. Wish me luck!
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Symptoms...or just complaints?
If I gave you these symptoms, would you send me to the hospital?
Severe fatigue
Aching joints
No period for 4 months
Hair falling out in droves
20 pounds overweight and it won't budge for some reason
Being bloated
Very gassy
Anxiety and depression
Pain in chest
You probably would.
I was just thinking how funny it was that my symptoms typically would warrant a visit to the old MD. BUT, it is just healing from pregnancy and breastfeeding. Having a baby is certainly a miracle, and because of what it does to your body its a miracle women have babies at all!!
Severe fatigue
Aching joints
No period for 4 months
Hair falling out in droves
20 pounds overweight and it won't budge for some reason
Being bloated
Very gassy
Anxiety and depression
Pain in chest
You probably would.
I was just thinking how funny it was that my symptoms typically would warrant a visit to the old MD. BUT, it is just healing from pregnancy and breastfeeding. Having a baby is certainly a miracle, and because of what it does to your body its a miracle women have babies at all!!
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
No spring chicken, but c'mon....
Okay, so I am not as young as I used to be, but yesterday something happened that made me feel OLD (well, not really, that was just for shock factor).
I was walking in the park with Miss P where kids were practicing soccer, football, track and what have you for the new school year. A girl on her bike around 13 years old came up and started talking to me. She thought it was so cool that I was walking my baby in the Bjorn and that it seemed like the baby loved nature. She told me how she loved nature and taking bike rides. I asked her if she was ready for school and she say she was because she doesn't have to go back until after Labor Day Weekend because she gets to go on vacation. If you are wondering where she is going, she is going to Myrtle Beach.
Very sweet little girl. Anyhow, she saw a couple of her buddies and yelled out to greet them. They came running up and one of the boys said, "Is that your mom?" He was referring to ME! AAAHH. Now, when I go to my mom's kindergarten class kids ask all the time if I am someone's mom - the first time was weird, but then I thought, "Well, yes, I could be the mother of a 6 year old." That seems reasonable to me, but a 13 year old!?
So I call up my mom and she reminds me that when she was my age she DID have a 13 year old kid...ME!!!!
Wow does that put things in perspective. I started daydreaming, and I remembered back to when I was 13 and I remembered what I thought about my mom. I thought she was young, beautiful and loved her very much. She was my best friend and my confidant - yes, even at 13. So, I guess being the mom to a 13 year old when you are a thirty-something is quite a good thing...but then again, does it matter if the child is 13 years or 13 months? I don't think so - you are STILL a parent!!
I was walking in the park with Miss P where kids were practicing soccer, football, track and what have you for the new school year. A girl on her bike around 13 years old came up and started talking to me. She thought it was so cool that I was walking my baby in the Bjorn and that it seemed like the baby loved nature. She told me how she loved nature and taking bike rides. I asked her if she was ready for school and she say she was because she doesn't have to go back until after Labor Day Weekend because she gets to go on vacation. If you are wondering where she is going, she is going to Myrtle Beach.
Very sweet little girl. Anyhow, she saw a couple of her buddies and yelled out to greet them. They came running up and one of the boys said, "Is that your mom?" He was referring to ME! AAAHH. Now, when I go to my mom's kindergarten class kids ask all the time if I am someone's mom - the first time was weird, but then I thought, "Well, yes, I could be the mother of a 6 year old." That seems reasonable to me, but a 13 year old!?
So I call up my mom and she reminds me that when she was my age she DID have a 13 year old kid...ME!!!!
Wow does that put things in perspective. I started daydreaming, and I remembered back to when I was 13 and I remembered what I thought about my mom. I thought she was young, beautiful and loved her very much. She was my best friend and my confidant - yes, even at 13. So, I guess being the mom to a 13 year old when you are a thirty-something is quite a good thing...but then again, does it matter if the child is 13 years or 13 months? I don't think so - you are STILL a parent!!
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