Monday, December 27, 2010

And a Partridge in an Ock-U-Pus Tree

Baby's first Christmas has been smashing. Overwhelming in every sense of the word, but spectacular. This year may not mean anything to him other than he doesn't go wanting for attention for a second, but to me it activates a whole new set of traditions, a chance to shape what his memories will be when he's an adult. I may go into further detail about the whos and whats in a later entry (including some pictures for once), but today I'm sipping my second cup of coffee in my stretchy pants, savoring the quiet while the little mister (who is eight months old today) naps and the house settles down in the midst of a blizzard. Right this minute there is no place I'd rather be. Mike had to go back to Boston yesterday to work so it's a bummer that he's not here, but hopefully the weather will allow for his safe return to us this afternoon. He's really the only thing missing. Here's what's not missing: food. Thank heavens whatever afflicted me last week seemed to be relegated to 24 hours because there were so many delicacies awaiting me, and still many I have yet to hit up for seconds. One hasn't lived, in my opinion, until the concept of "breakfast dessert" becomes the norm.

I have to say that taking the week off between holidays was one of my better ideas. Now I must get back to the luxurious loungefest. I hope everyone everywhere is safe and warm and happy.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Airing of Grievances

The month of December is conspiring against me. This is usually my favorite time of year, but I keep getting kicked in the head. Or stomach, this time, as it were. I had to leave work yesterday with a mysterious vomiting illness. I'm back on my feet today, I have to be because I have tons to do before I take my vacation, but man what inconvenient timing. Baby boy is also in the throes of his first cold. He's a trooper, smiling right through it, but I feel bad for him and his labored breathing. Mike, meanwhile, has been the magical elf taking care of us both and getting done all the errands in the world. He deserves a great big bottle of bourbon in his stocking this year, I tell you what.

After today, I'm off until after New Year's and I get to go hang out with my favorite people all the livelong day. I'm so excited, and so happy, that it cancels out the misery of the past few weeks.

And now, for my all-time favorite Christmas tune: "Pretty Paper," as sung by Willie Nelson. It's one of the saddest holiday songs, but I love it so.



And I love you so. All of you! Happy Festivus today, and have a fun and joyful week doing whatever it is you do. I'll catch you on the other side.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Christmas Queen

I don't have time for a real entry, but I felt the need to pop by with my pick for the song of the day. I'm cheating here, because I can't just pick one selection. Today I'm going with the entire A Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack by the Vince Guaraldi Trio. A single note from this jazzy, iconic, often melancholy composition is transporting. It's so intertwined with nostalgia and my memories of the holiday, hearing any one of these songs makes it instant Christmas.You know it, we all know it. But here's a taste anyway.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

From the Bottom of My Heart

I couldn't wait for it to snow, and I'm still super psyched to look outside and see the pretty sparkly coating of white stuff that arrived yesterday, just in time for winter to begin. But once again I must marvel at the onset of collective amnesia that strikes the state of Massachusetts on the first snow of each year. It's impressive, really, how a half inch of precipitation manages to rankle die-hard New Englanders and stretch my evening commute from 20 minutes to an hour. Snow, people. It's in our bones. How does this happen every farklng year? Oh well, the initial mania is overwith and done, at least.

So I've decided once and for all to release my feelings about HR's sleeping habits into the universe. Yep, he probably should be sleeping through the night as he approaches the eight (!!) month mark. Nope, he's not. But he's my baby and he's got his own thing going on and I have to respect that and not weigh myself down further by imposing expectations. So last night, I just let go. And after a midnight feeding, he slept straight through until morning. Coincidence? Well, probably. But I'll work on keeping my mindset with this one: Just. Let. Go. We'll have good nights and bad nights, and I'll hold up my end of the bargain by being consistent with bedtime habits. But I can't be disappointed when he doesn't hold up his. Really who makes a bargain with an infant anyway, right? They're notorious welshers (is that a racist term somehow?). The point is, which you already knew but I have to keep reaffirming for my own sanity: we're gonna make it. If a few nighttime wake ups are the worst thing we're dealing with right now, we should consider ourselves extremely lucky.

I realize I only have three more days (including this one) to write about holiday music, and there are so many little gems I haven't shared. I won't write in detail about all the ones I especially like, there just isn't time. But I'll name check, in no particular order, some of my seasonal favorites. The secular ones like "Silver Bells" and "Let it Snow" and "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" and "The Merriest." I also like the traditional religious ones like "Joy to the World" and "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," and hymns like "Go Tell It On the Mountain." Handel's "Messiah" gives me chills every time.

But today what I really want to talk about is the music I can't stand, beginning with the season's chief offender: "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus." This is not cute. It purports to be clever, but instead it's patronizing and--hello!--creepy as fuck. I get it, I get that the mother isn't actually committing adultery because it's really daddy in the Santa Claus suit. But the kid in the song doesn't know that, and, HA HA isn't it funny that my mother's getting biz with Santa? I mean, I can see how that would be a wicked bargaining chip for a savvy, cynical child, plus if you're that type of kid who wouldn't want Santa as a potential step-parent? But I think we're meant to infer that the little spy is an innocent. So the question is, what degree of naivete would allow for a child to see their mother kissing someone who isn't their other parent and think it's just delightful? None. That degree of innocence in a child is a fallacy, and that kid would be traumatized. So I guess the thing to take away from this is that I don't like this song sort of a little bit?

Also: Boney M.'s "Mary's Boy Child/Oh My Lord" - you know the one I'm talking about. The only way it could be more annoying is if the Black Eyed Peas covered it or something. Finally, Mariah Carey get out of my face. I don't mind her as a person, I think she's actually sort of a riot. And I appreciate her singing talent. But really at Christmas she needs to back off.

Ah, that felt good.

I'll wrap up with a song I actually really like, even though it's admittedly annoying: Jose Feliciano's "Feliz Navidad." I read somewhere that Sr. Feliciano was the first person who sung the National Anthem at a sporting event and dared to mess with the arrangement, something that stopped his career in its tracks. While I am no fan of what's happened to the "Star Spangled Banner" since he opened the door, I feel like he was a scapegoat. Consider this my way of avenging the writer of the awesome Chico and the Man theme song.


Bonus points for the Charo cover in the Pee Wee's Playhouse Christmas Special.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Bells Are Ringing Out On Christmas Day

HR has reached defcon 5 stage clinginess. His days of happily independent playing have waned for now, he wants to be held by one of us most of the time. It does sound like this is normal at this juncture in development. But add in the poor monkey's teething discomfort (worst. night. ever. on Saturday), and we're a pretty exhausted lot in our house. I keep telling myself, though, that there will come a time where he won't want anything to do with snuggling me so I'll give him every snuggle he desires. And when we go home for the holiday, there will be so many people to lavish him with attention, it'll be a nice break for Mike and me. Still and all, this is a sterling time to be alive.

It'll be three years come January since my grandfather passed away and today for some reason I am missing him more keenly than I have in a long time. Maybe because of the holidays, maybe just because. I missed him before he was even gone, he was just that special. Love you, Pup.

Anyway. I am floored beyond floored that Christmas is in five days, and I'm pre-emptively fighting the depression of it being over. I never said I wasn't ridiculous. And I'm ridiculously excited for a big chunk of time off from work and time with my family. All right, time to make the doughnuts. I'll leave you now with a gorgeous holiday rave-up by someone who could probably commiserate with anyone's dental woes.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Claus... is that German?

Random subject time!

First, let's talk about breakfast. I've always been a breakfast eater, I'm starving in the morning. Lately I especially love oatmeal for breakfast. A huge, hot bowl with the kitchen sink thrown in, that's-a what I'm talking about. However Mike went grocery shopping the other morning and was unable to resist the pull of Cap'n Crunch with Crunchberries in its throwback packaging. And so we feasted upon the crunchberries, and lo, they were good. Not as an every day thing, mind you, but as a treat, it was a super delicious breakfast and not disappointing as nostalgia-prompted food purchases often turn out to be.

Second: my brother's band is playing in town tonight. I won't be there as they are going on after my bedtime, but Mike will represent for our family. If you are in the area and want to go, they could surely use the cheering section. Also, in my very unbiased opinion they are exceptionally talented.

Thirdly: it occurred to me, now that Mike's half of the family is taken care of for the holidays, that I still have Xmas shopping to do. Yeah, I'm pretty awesome at life. Luckily Mike's always looking for errands to fill up the day so he and HR will have plenty to do next week. It's been years since my immediate family exchanged gifts because we usually save up our dough and go on vacation together, but 2011 brings two big weddings. I'm petitioning that once again we all save our dough and put it toward those. I can't stop anyone from buying presents for the baby, nor would I want to, but we adults mostly have what we need and in this crunch-crunch time, I think we can go another year without stressing over buying things.

Fourth: usually we go to Portsmouth NH, one of our favorite little cities, with some friends for an overnight extravaganza at this time of year. We're not going this year, but I'm missing it dearly. So, next - it's on, come hell or high water. Y'all hear me?

Fifth: I just found out that MTV is remaking Skins. I have nothing good to say about that.

And finally, I actually heard this (a heavily censored version of it, anyway) on the radio this morning and it reminded me, I love Sarah Silverman.



Don't be dicks, and have a great weekend!

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

The World's Smallest Turkey

Last night I did some long-overdue yoga. I hope to do some more tomorrow. It's really not the same when you're in your living room trying to follow a TV instructor and keeping half an ear open for the baby monitor, but it's something from which I can benefit even if the conditions are less than ideal. It's the same with writing. You can't wait around for things to be just right, you just have to do it. I'll get back to classes again someday. Someday I might just fulfill my dream of becoming a certified instructor. Until then, Exercise TV and Yoga Downloads it is. And squeezing in 15 minutes and a half hour here and there on the novel will have to do.

Oh, and there's the title of my life story, Making the Most of It: The Musical! (Of course it'll be a fucking musical.)

Anyway, work still beckons, and my teacup ain't refillng itself. So I'll leave you with a saucy treat of a tune. This week my carol choices have taken on a decidedly 80s theme. But anyway, to me, it's not Christmas until I hear this.
 

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts

Hallelu- hallelu- hallelujah, the root canal is done! And though it is a freaky thing to contemplate going on in one's own mouth, it was nothin', after everything else. I don't think I've ever been numb up to my eyeballs before, but hey, whatever they have to do to live up to their promise that it will be a painless procedure. According to the endodontist I had one hell of an infection up in there. I'm not sure how it started or how long it had been raging but once again it's been proven that pain is useful - who knows what might have happened if I hadn't been hurting so bad. Lessons learned and all that jazz. And that's the very end of this subject, hopefully forever and ever.

There's so much going on it the world. So much wonderful-ness. And I look forward to writing about it when I don't have so much work to do. This is my busiest time of year at work, it will rage on through January, but it's also my favorite time of year because it means that people are giving. Approximately 200 bizarre and annoying things go on every day as well, but they are easier to swallow when the mail carrier drops in with a giant stack of mail for me.

Mike contributed today's selection for song-of-the-day. I must say that it is so fantastic that it defies description. Just click on over. You have our guarantee it's four minutes of your life you'll hand over with pleasure.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Thank You Mr. Fleming

Thanks so much everyone for your sympathy and for indulging me in my whining. I didn't think I was a wimp, but it turns out I've just never had to deal with real pain. I have a seriously renewed respect for people who live with it all the time. And once again I must marvel at chemistry. The antibiotics kicked in somewhere around Friday night and changed me into a new person. I actually got to chew again! After Thursday I only needed a couple of advil to sleep, and by yesterday afternoon the misery was but a memory.

Of course I still have to have the root canal in a couple of hours, but regardless the quality of the past few days was drastically improved. And none too soon, too, because like that, my baby is a boy. Oh my stars- these moments - I'm telling you, I would die if something so stupid as a toothache meant they were overshadowed. The latest, which happened boom-boom-boom: he figured out how to get water out of the sippy cup, and can't seem to get enough. He's sort of (ack!) crawling, which is incredible but nothing and no one is safe now. And when you sit him up with his toys, he just plays and plays like a human person. Lately getting a poop out has become a mighty struggle for him, and it's hilarious to observe the process, even though it makes you feel so bad for the little guy. Last night he slept a 9 hour chunk, then back down for 2 after feeding. Who is this child and what have you done with HR?

Of course that's only one night. Tonight I'm sure will be a whole different ballgame. And even it it is, it doesn't change that for Mike and me he is the joy of all time. Raising him is still the most work we've ever done in our lives, and I know we've only just started, but I can't think of anything more worth it. I'm in love with his sweet and vulnerable profile, his fat gorgeous baby legs, the way he makes little "mmm" sounds when he eats and the way his little hand sort of clutches at me while he's nursing. I could cry, constantly, but tears of gratitude and wonder. Ah, hormonal ecstasia. (Note to self: read this when he's a teenager.)

Anyway, baby's first Chanukah celebration with Dada's family was amazing. He met his confoundingly tiny (next to him) and lovable new cousin, was obsessed with the giant golden doodle, and was happily passed around to every family member to be spoiled. It was a blast, and I know next year will be even better. Now of course I can't wait until Christmas.

So I leave you now with a new-old addition to the Christmas Carol canon. I'd never heard this before one of my FB friends posted it today, but I not-so-secretly adore Billy Squier and decided I must co-opt it immediately. It lacks the balls-out insanity of, say, the "Rock Me Tonight" video, but it's the holidays, people.


And I do love you, Christmas or no.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Please to Put a Penny In the Old Man's Hat

So I'm going in for a root canal on Monday. I'm not nervous, I just want this overwith. I have to say it didn't give me a great feeling when I opened my mouth yesterday and the dentist was like, "DUDE."  Apparently it's rare for me to be swollen in the location I am, and as much as I am. Considering I had just seen her on Monday and she wasn't at all concerned then, I have no regrets that we're planning on quitting this practice as soon as this treatment is wrapped up. She seemed relieved that I was already on antibiotics, and now suddenly everyone's tripping over themselves to prescribe me narcotics. I was a bit concerned about the effect on nursing, but I only take one before I go to bed, and Mike takes over night waking/bottle feeding duty with the baby so I don't think I'm doing him any harm. And goddamn what a difference. Last night was the first time I've gotten a reasonable amount of sleep in forever. If Mike ever leaves me I might marry hydrocodone. I guess I can see why people could get hooked, but for me it doesn't give me any kind of special feeling, it's just really effective in making the pain go away when nothing else will. Aside from childbirth, which is its own separate and incomparable experience (and is at least productive), this is the most pain I've ever had and for the longest duration. Feeling normal, assuming I get to that before dropping dead from septic shock, is going to be the best Christmas present EVAH.

If there's any upside, it's that I lost a fair bit of weight. But I'd happily have gained some if I could have skipped the misery of the past week. I can't wait to get fixed up so I can begin Project: Christmas Goose.


This is just to say, I do believe your intrepid blogger's gonna make it. Have a great weekend, lovely lovely loves.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

With His Olive Oil Voice...

Most important business of the day: Happy Birthday to the Bella, the Queen Bee, the woman who gave me my life and entertains me on a daily basis. I don't know if she actually reads this thing, but most of you who do know her in real life so please join me in celebrating her transition into a very youthful 56. Love you, Ma.

Yes, I'm going back to the dentist today. No, I don't want to talk about it. I'm working from home tomorrow so I'll probably write in here just for closure (assuming there's closure. Please let there be closure). As an aside, the phrase "a trip to the dentist" always makes me think of Veronica Mars. Damn I miss that show.

Other than that, things are chugging along. I heard "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" on the radio this morning, which is one of the best songs ever written so I'm sure that means something positive. I'm looking forward to celebrating belated Chanukah with Mike's family this weekend and snuggling our niece for the first time. And I will eat latkes even if I have to stick them in a blender.

And, because it really is around these parts:


I guess this skates the "roofie ballad" line, but that Dean Martin was so damn charming.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

I Can't Complain (But Sometimes I Still Do)

The ongoing saga, quickly because I'm sick to death of it: I'm seeing my doctor today. She'll probably send me back to the dentist (I now have swelling on my palate - that can't be good) but if nothing else she can probably hook me up with some strong meds to help me sleep. Last night I was prepared to go to sleep at 9 - I put the baby to bed, took a lot of advil and slapped on some orajel so I was fairly comfortable. And of course, because Mike was called into work at the last minute, HR decided to have the fussiest night he's had since he was a newborn. He was up every hour. Mike took some turns when he got home, but sometimes nothing but nursing would do to get him back down. We've suspected he's been teething for a long, long time, but I think it's finally happening this time. Or not. Who knows with babies, since they have the same symptoms for everything. I'm in a very good position to have empathy for my poor buddy, anyway.

One thing that's getting me down almost as much as the pain and fatigue: I have zero interest in food. Chewing and swallowing are misery, and subsequently nothing looks appetizing. So I'm subsisting on yogurt and fruit smoothies or whatever to get nutrients. It's mad boring. I thought about a hot toddy last night, but even booze didn't excite me. What is this world coming to?

So I raise my water glass and say: may we solve this health mystery once and for all so we can fix it and I can resume my life of gross consumption. Or, short of that, that we have a better night tonight. Because we can't have a worse one than last night, can we? Come on fate, come and get me.

No matter what I'll write about something else tomorrow. Anything else. I'm done with this.

As for my song of the day, it requires a little explanation. With very few exceptions, I do not care for a capella groups. Not at all. No sir. They make me hive-y. But my love for Toto's "Africa" trumps all. So though this has a high lame quotient, along with some weird racial humor, it pleases me anyway.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Lagniappe

Toothaches are lifewreckers. Not to mention blog-wreckers. Seriously, how boring is it to read about this? Not to mention how I really, really hate writing about ailments. But right now constant pain is about the only thing I've got going on. OK, that's a big fat lie, I still have an amazingly awesome life. But do you see the power of pain, that it makes me unable to appreciate that?

I understand that my traumatized ligaments are going to take a little time to heal with this method we're trying. And ibuprofen pretty much gets me through the day. But at night. Oh, children the nighttime is when it hits bad, and nothing can touch it. Subsequently I get even less sleep than I had been and I'm not getting a lot to eat and Mama's starting to get a mite ORN'RY. If tonight's as bad as last night, I'll call the dentist again tomorrow and beg for something strong just to get me some sleep. I think it's only fair to my family (St. Mike) who are by all means doing their part to make my life as easy as possible (including baby who is sleeping about as well as he ever has). I'm historically bad at drugs and I have reservations about how it might affect my nursing, but desperate times call for prescriptions. Isn't that the saying?

There are many happy things going on in the world, and one of the the happiest for me is that I'm taking off the week between Christmas and New Year's like I've always wanted to so we can spend a big chunk of time in my hometown. Maybe in the wee head-pounding hours it will help me to visualize a white Christmas in Maine, just like the ones I used to know. Speaking of:



I LOVE this version. Did you know that Ben E. King was in the Drifters? Now you do. Merry Christmas.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Gratuitous Quint Reference #1000

Nothing like a toothache to ruin a weekend. ARRGH. It's a shame, because there was so much good there, with friends time and Mike-and-me time and lovely baby time (including some decent sleeping on his part - I cut out the night light and I think it's made a difference) but my grill was giving me the horrors whole time so it put a damper on my enjoyment. O Woe and Damnation! A quick trip to the dentist this morning revealed that my problems might be solved by a little adjustment to my permanent crown and, DUH, a night guard. So I'm one of those guys now. If it takes care of my ouchness, I'm all for it.

Work is off the hook of course so I don't have time for more just now but I will link what is probably my favorite religious carol. When I go in for the Christ-in-Christmas songs, the more bombastic the better, and this one really delivers the bomb. There are a ton of great versions, but when it comes to Christmas, you've gotta go with Mr. Nat King Cole.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Mom's Cooking Chicken and Collard Greens

Night #1 of Chanukah was pretty low-key. Baby was overtired and underwhelmed and just sort of stared at the candles while I fed him squash, then put him to bed. He got really screamy when we were getting ready to read stories and Mike brought in his present. He's sensitive about his bedtime routine, I think he thinks that the night is just HR and Mama time. What a funny little monkey.

About our future as a family, Mike and I plan to continue to celebrate all the holidays as we've been doing. HR will be neither baptized nor bar mitzvahed, and I know that there are many difficult and complicated conversations in our future, but the idea is that we'll be as honest as possible. I don't want to keep him from pursuing any kind of interest in religion, but I don't feel right foisting anything on him beyond our family traditions for obvious reasons. I don't think we have to worry about going down that road for years yet, but it's good to have a plan in mind, however vague.

I've made a holiday wish list just for me, as in, presents to myself from myself. So far it's only got two items, but the smaller the list, the more likely I am to make it happen. It begins with re-incorporating yoga in my life, for real. I'm missing it like crazy. I'm also bone tired much of the time, but I know that making the effort to establish a practice will eventually take care of that. I also want to work on rediscovering my sense of adventure in terms of fashion. For better or worse (or harem pants) I was such a daredevil in that respect when I was younger. My favorite outfit when I was a junior in high school was a white button-down shirt, jeans, a necktie (which my dad had to tie for me, every time) and my most comfy patent-leather oxfords with ribbon ties. I thought I was the bees knees when I dressed up like that, especially since I hadn't even seen Annie Hall yet. I also had an affinity for hats, which invited semi-unflattering comparison to Blossom (it was the early 1990s, what can you do?). In retrospect I was probably silly looking, but I didn't care, and it's something about me back then that I really liked. I think the old girl's got a statement or two left in her, we'll see.

I've got a lot on my plate today so it's time to dive in. But first:


Thanks to my culture-twin Kev for reminding me to bump this to the top of the list. Run DMC owns! And RIP, Jay. (Un)interestingly enough, Hollis was a name I considered for HR before Mike shot it down, and I definitely got the idea from this classic.

Happy Thursday, y'all. Happy life!

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Like Strawberries in the Summertime

Happy Chanukah to my Hebrews and Shebrews out there! How is it Chanukah already? How is it December, even? This is all good stuff mind you, but I feel steamrolled by the passage of time. If my mind were a blender, it would be set on frappe. Mmm, frappe.

Right. So. I'm going through a phase where I don't want to write things anymore, just post videos. It'll be over soon. But in the meantime, this is what's happening.

Remember how awesome this was?



RUSSELL! (I called him as winner from the auditions). Also, LEGACY!  And... Kevin? I don't remember him at all. Anyway, it still gives me chills. I'm probably divorced now. But whatever, it was worth it.

I've been feeling nostalgia for my teenage years lately. Maybe I'll write more about that tomorrow, or maybe I'll kiss my baby and drink a glass of bourbon and not feel like I'm too fat and remember how rad it is to be an adult. In any case, this one goes out to my from-growing-up people-- you know who you are (hint: one of you is now sporting a fetching mohawk).



Finally, the song of the day. I'm not going to post a Chanukah song because there are no good ones. I mean, I guess Sandler's is pretty good and I do have an inexplicably enduring love for him, but I'd rather promote this lovely song which is not really a holiday song at all. Just a secular thing of beauty that makes me think of the holidays.



Happy candle-lighting to those who do, I'm looking forward to celebrating another first with HR Pufnstuf. His first Chanukah present: socks. That's traditional, right?

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Ching-a-Ling-a-Lie-Ay

Today our bud needed the second component to his flu shot so Mike got the honor of taking him. They're coming by in a little while to visit and take me out to lunch, and reports from the field are that Mr. Man was a total champ at the doctor's. He's a total champ in nearly every aspect, so why should a little shot be any different, right? Ah, my baby.

In our efforts to expose him to a lot of different things in order to make him as well rounded as possible, (i.e., entertain us all), we watch a lot of youtube clips, mostly music. For some reason these are HR's current favorites. Yeah, he's already a little far-flung in his tastes, what can I say it runs in the family.

The first one is a discovery for all of us from the "solid gold oldies" station. Warning - you will be unable to get it out of your head.




I have no idea where this one came from, but it makes him laugh and laugh. Maybe it's the outfit? Regardless, excellent song.




Oh, and the holiday song o' the day: the rather maudlin but culturally significant "Do They Know It's Christmas?" by Band Aid. Does it bother you that Sting gets to sing the "sting of tears" lyric? It bothers me - it seems too on the nose, but it's for a good cause and... ooh, John Taylor. Did I mention John Taylor? Happy Christmas, indeed.


Monday, November 29, 2010

We'll Miss You, Frank

What a totally awesome Thanksgiving and accompanying weekend. It was just a few luxurious days of hanging out with family and eating good food and relaxing and as far as I'm concerned it could have gone on as such forever. Mike and I had our date on Friday and it was lovely, I knew HR was in good hands so we could just enjoy each other. In retrospect it went by so fast, yet by the time we got home we were both missing our baby it seemed like just the right amount of time.

Yesterday my parents took their leave and Mike went to work and the post-holiday blues descended upon me. I realize this is ridiculous as the holidays have only just begun, but I do experience the same letdown after all the good times. Lucky I had one smiley, drooly little gentleman to lift my spirits. Babies tend to be good for that. Especially babies who continue their endearing streak by sleeping well that night (hint hint baby boy).

Anyway, now I'm surrendering to the free-fall that is the Holiday. Season. (capital exclamation point et cetera). I agree that holidays can be stressful, but for the most part, it's only insofar as you let them be. So I'm getting down with the good parts and applying zen-spray to the rest. Oh, and I can officially listen to carols with impunity now. Even at my most cynical, I always secretly loved Christmas carols and other winter-holiday-themed music, and now that I've come back around to embrace the madness on my terms, I've decided to celebrate holiday music. So until, oh let's say New Year's, I'm going to list a song of the day. Inaugural tune: "The Christmas Waltz." There are a lot of versions of this, I think Peggy Lee's is probably the best. It's also a neat primer on music composition, because the lyrics tell you that it was written in 3/4 time. Let it never be said there's no educational value to this bloggy thing.

I hate to end on a sad note, but I'd be remiss if I didn't mourn the loss of dear Leslie Nielsen. He was one of the true good guys. If there is an afterlife, may it be stocked with nice beavers.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Merci Pour Tout

What up y'all? I'm just sitting here at my desk feeling giddy and getting ready to do a bunch of work before I can go home and receive my family. The day before Thanksgiving is possibly my favorite day of the year, better than the day itself. What can I say, I am a great fan of anticipation.

I try to be mindful, and to take time out of every day to appreciate my beautiful life, but it doesn't hurt to take stock and make a big deal out of it once a year. So without further ado, a list of things for which I am currently most grateful:

-My heroine, Patti Smith, won a National Book Award

-HR's big enough that we can do side-lying nursing in the early mornings and it often buys us another hour-plus of sleep, not to mention cozy family-bed time

-Delicious, delicious coffee

-I have a lot of friends in the world and though I could be lots better about letting them know, I cherish them beyond words. You know who you are!

-Hosting the dinner means I don't have to travel

-It's clementine season

-There's so much quality fiction out there to surprise and move me again and again, the latest culprit: Emma Donaghue's Room

-The tangible security I take for granted: a great stable job, a warm comfortable house and nourishing food

-The intangibles: good health for myself, and most of my loved ones. Good medical care, and hope, for those who aren't as healthy. The fantabulous luck to have been born into my family--every member of whom is a gem in her or his own right--and to have married into one I adore just as much. A pretty awesome marriage, while we're on the subject, after all these years. And let's not forget love in general, which seems the simplest thing, but the importance of it can never be overstated

-A vibrant passion for all kinds of art and beauty in the world that I hope to pass on

-Music, of course: Florence and the Machine, Jay-Z, Neil Young, Duran Duran, Jimmie Rodgers, The Rolling Stones, and so on and so on. So good for dancing, so good for life

-Naturally I must wrap up with the highlight of 2010 for me, which I venture will be the highlight of every year hereafter: my happy, healthy, gorgeous, growing baby. He may still wake in the night, and rail against his carseat and stroller with fiery demon hatred, but he's a cuddle monster with the most beautiful toothless smile and my love for him knocks me over on a daily basis. He's the best best reason I've ever had to be thankful.




Happy Thanksgiving 2010!

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

On Abundance

Some more things about food, yay! If you don't want to read about food over and over again, maybe check back here in January. That's probably not safe, either. I just really like eating. Consider yourself warned.

Mike did most of our shopping this morning, and we're in really good shape for the holiday. Go team us! It's funny that I've come to embrace a traditional Thanksgiving menu, because it doesn't really reflect the foods of my youth. My mother's family is Italian, and so the centerpieces for any holiday were (and still are) homemade manicotti, lasagna, gnocchi, meatballs, you get the picture. There was always a token ham or turkey and a few half-hearted sides, but holiday food--when I spend them at "home"--means red sauce. So it's weird I guess that I'm all about the American-style spread (still, the turkey is my personal least favorite part of the meal, I'm a sides-junkie all the way). I guess there's something to be said for growing up and making your own traditions. But maybe it's not so random that my day-after-TG date includes dinner at the restaurant that makes my favorite bolognese. Now that I think of it, elastic waist pants are probably not going to cut it. Maybe I packed away those roomy maternity frocks too soon?

I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm contrarian by nature. I don't like to be told what to do, and I hate the notion of giving up things. If I see one more "healthy ways to indulge at the holidays" article, I might start getting punchy. You don't want to see me punchy, I'm weak and it's pathetic. And don't even get me started on guilt as it applies to food. Guilt is a useless emotion that sometimes can't be avoided (I'm trying to keep from adding an instrument to the guilt hootenanny that is parenthood, with moderate success), and I'm loath to impose the concept on something so innocuous as food. Of course that's a very loaded topic that I won't get into just now. Just know that even when I'm not inhabiting the universally chow-down friendly states of being pregnant or breastfeeding (I thought pregnant at the holidays was THE bomb but it turns out that nursing-at-the-holidays trumps it because it's gotten me back to my low pre-preg weight without really trying--meaning more room in the pants--plus there's the added bonus this year of a little festive cocktailing), I still think life is too short to not eat all the kinds of pie if that's what you really want to do. No qualifiers. Just do it, and own it.

Trust me, I'm well aware that getting to spout these obnoxiously self-righteous things about excess belies the ways in which I am privileged. Again, another topic for another day.

But today: food + holidays = love. Tomorrow: a Thankful list.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Countdown to Elastic Waist Pants

What a great weekend. Sigh for it being over. But it's only a moderately crazypants Monday, and a super short week, with Thanksgiving as the capper. So basically I've got nothing to be bitching about no matter how busy things might be over the next couple of days. Oh TG, how do I love thee? It's been my favorite holiday all my life, even when I believed in Santa. A born foodie, that's me.

We're hosting again this year, a modest 13 at the table counting Mr. Pants. I love, love, love hosting this holiday. We've got the menu finalized, and it's decidedly simple this year, but I predict it'll still be amazing. Not that we've done a drop of prep yet, because we haven't, but tonight Mike will do the shopping while I put HR to bed and we'll make ahead whatever we can.

The menu:
Appetizers- crudite & dip, cheese plate, deviled eggs (maybe)
Dinner- turkey, gravy, stuffing, cream cheese mashed potatoes, roasted sweet potatoes, roasted brussels sprouts, homemade cranberry sauce, cucumber salad
Dessert- lemon meringue pie, pumpkin pie, "crack bars" (what I've dubbed my great-aunt's chocolate/peanut/butter/marshmallow crunch concoction), sorbet, fruit and nuts.

Plus an assortment of beverages. And pureed squash or sweet potatoes and breastmilk for the young gentleman.

Oh my god is it Thursday yet? Actually it's not just the food that's getting me all excited, but knowing that we'll have a houseful of loved ones to celebrate the baby's first Thanksgiving. As ever, I have much for which to be thankful (and we can add 'baby sleeping much better' for now), but a beautiful family and wonderful friends will always top the list.

Just to cut the treacle, now that HR's been on solid food for over a month, he's started making solid poo and so far he's not a fan. Babies, man. It's always something.

Onward!

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Awwww!

Wow, dudes, I must say this every year but only a few hours in and it's already my favorite birthday ever. I suppose it's possible to feel more loved than I do, but I doubt it. It started with extreme snuggle time with an extremely snuggly baby. But oh snap, I get to start my day that way every day! What a lucky jerk.

Anyway, in honor of the occasion, I'm wearing my new dark wash skinny jeans from the Gap (I got a hot tip that these were excellent postpartum wear and damned if it's not true) with a black button-down and black boots. Ever since I was a little kid I always made a point of wearing clothes that made me feel especially good on my bday, and while today's ensemble is nothing like what I normally wear, it works. I'm calling it my "sophisticated mama" costume, based on a ridiculous memory of my youth. Once when I was very wee, my cousins and I were having a dance party, like you do (Kim G., you were definitely there), and the soundtrack was some K-Tel compilation that included Kool and the Gang's classic "Ladies' Night." There's that one line, "Mmmmm sophisticated mama!" and it used to make us laugh, the way the singer growled it out, even if we had no idea what it meant. I remember asking my mother what he was talking about and even though I don't remember the explanation she came up with, I know that I have since aspired to be a sophisticated mama. This is probably the closest I'm gonna get.

A word about presents: it's not that I don't appreciate gifts, but a.) I honestly don't need anything, and b.) if I want something, either I just get it myself, or I go for experiences over things. Like going out to dinner, etc. Things that can be shared. But sometimes people are going to buy you presents. And you accept them gratefully. For example, my ridiculously generous and organized in-laws pooled together and got me a Kindle and it is UNBELIEVABLE. Don't worry, I'm not giving up books in book-form ever. But this is a fabulous supplement to my reading roster, especially for travel. I love it. So that's my stance on presents, I guess-- conflicted. 

Enough about my birthday, heavens.  Just know I'm so full of joy and gratitude already I can hardly get up the words so I'll paraphrase the great They Might Be Giants: I were a gun I'd be shooting sapphire bullets of pure love for all y'all.

Next subject to write into the ground: Thanksgiving!!!! Stay tuned.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Does Anyone Even Remember Edith Ann?

An ode to my personal barista:

Mike used to be off caffeine. It was kind of a bummer. But the lack of sleep that snuck in through the door when we left it open for baby turned him back to the good stuff, and how. Over the summer we used to go out for iced coffee every day, but we realized that if we didn't slow our roll we were going to be broke as well as bigtime carbon footprint offenders from going through all that plastic. So we started using our home coffee pot all the time. My husband has become quite the connoisseur, and his freshly ground, free-trade morning coffee is often the second best thing about my day. This morning there was a bit of a malfunction, so I took the opportunity to pop into Starbucks on my way into work to fulfill my the red cup/gingerbread latte jones I get this time of year. I finally figured out that if get the smallest size and ask for half the syrup, I don't have buyer's remorse. It worked, it was a great cup and I wasn't feeling ralphy by the end. But I still missed my Mikey brew, particularly when I got change for a fiver in jingle-money but no crinkle money. $4.12 for a tall latte? Is that the going rate? I'm not a cheap person, I'm happy to pay for quality, but jinkies! I had no idea. It was a nice treat, but the home cafe is ever more appreciated.

So. This is my last day as a 35-year-old. Tomorrow when I wake up I'll be 36, officially closer to 40 than to 30, and there's no getting around that. Not that I really want to, I mean, aging doesn't scare me. I just never got the hang of saying I was 35. Now I guess I don't have to worry about it. (Un)interesting factoid: on my next birthday I'll officially have lived in the Boston area for half my life.

I've come and gone with the way I prefer to observe my birthday, from weekend-long extravaganzas to a quiet dinner at home with Mike. I've found that I tend to get a little hive-y when I'm the center of attention, and frankly I enjoy other people's birthdays more than my own. So this year all I want is to have a drink with Mike when he gets home from work. I was thinking about checking out a neighborhood yoga class on Friday as a way to start off my new year, but I'll be working from home and I'd rather take the time away from that to have lunch out with my men and possibly some friends. As a postponed bit of celebration, we're also going to take advantage of family coming in for the holiday and Mike and I will have an extended movie-and-dinner date on the day after Thanksgiving. I chose Harry Potter of course because what else do extreme weinerdawgs always choose?

All in all that sounds just perfect to me. Maybe the junior weinerdawg (weinerpup?) will get in on the "celebrate mama" theme and sleep through the night for serious. But let's be realistic, now. He's really doing so, so much better and I can't complain. Even if the all-night slumber eludes us forever, just having him in my life is the world's best birthday present times infinity.

And that's the truth. Ptttthhhbt. (I would love to link an Edith Ann clip here but she creeps Mike out and I can't very well laud and alienate him in the same entry. Can I?)

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

I Really Do Throw My Hands Up In The Air Sometimes

Last night I spoke to two of my oldest friends. It's amazing, because I hate talking on the phone and avoid calling anyone unless there's some specific information to exchange, but BAM! two in one night. Of course after we talk, I'm always thinking, why don't I do this more? It's a pretty stupid cycle. The point is, it was great to talk to two of these ladies, one who has known me since kindergarten and called out of the blue, and the other, who I met in second grade, and who I spoke to by appointment because we're both so busy. We talked about hard things and happy things, you know, life and junk. And I was exhausted after, but in a valuable way. I'm pretty good about not taking my family for granted, but I tend to do that with my friends and I need to be better about that. Working on that is atop my priority list.

Now is it just me, or are we experiencing a resurgence in the quality of pop radio? It's probably me. Go on, judge away, I'm confident in my opinions. Not that I ever really cared what people thought of me, but something about being a parent gives you the freedom to really enjoy being lame. Anyway, it just seems like mainstream pop has left me cold since, oh, the 1980s. And while I'm not saying that we're in a comparable golden age of radio by any means, I'm finding a lot to like lately as I scan the stations. I just went on a little iTunes spree based on my favorites. Some purchases:

-"DJ's Got Us Fallin' In Love" by Usher. This is so good! It reminds me of Chris Brown's "Forever", but you don't have to feel conflicted about liking it. Usher may be a cheater, but he's not an abuser as far as I know.

-"Dynamite" by Taio Cruz - This has been out forever, and I didn't think I liked it at first but it's infectious.

-"Fuck You" by Cee-Lo Green - this is sort of cheating, because I don't like to listen to the censored radio version. But my love for Cee-Lo extends back to his Goodie Mob days, and I'm thrilled that he's a huge star now.

-"Tighten Up" by The Black Keys. Is this pop? Maybe, maybe not, but they play it on WFNX so I'm counting it. Oh man they are so rad, music for people who like the White Stripes but are burned out on them. This is a stellar composition.

-"Raise Your Glass" by Pink. It was just a matter of time.

-"Club Can't Handle Me" by Flo Rida. I'm very nearly embarrassed by this one, but that doesn't mean it's not my personal anthem.

There's plenty that annoys me about radio, (beginning and ending with Kesha), but that's for another entry.

In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you're listening to, be it popular or obscure.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Perchance to Dream

Every day I'm more enamored with our little life. And not even just because we're all sleeping better, but that certainly doesn't hurt. We just passed a truly lovely weekend. Not that we did anything special, we just got lots of family together time, lots of playing and babbling and fun. So of course it flew past. I've heard parent after parent tell me that every stage is the best until you get to the next one. And it's probably true, but I can't believe anything could be better than hearing his sweet little voice making nonsense syllables. The latest amazing thing is that when I return home in the evening, instead of crying and wanting to nurse on sight as he's done since I went back to work, he breaks out into this huge smile when he sees me, and that is one of the highlights of my whole life.

Breaking sleep news: with the help of this latest book I think I may have--MAY HAVE (no jinx)--found the last piece of the nighttime puzzle. Now it's all working with it to make it fit. The evidence that I'm helping HR learn how to put himself to sleep is there after only a few days of trying this method, and it has made an undeniable impact on the quality and quantity of his sleep. He's still waking once or twice, but one night we he slept 8-5 and went back to sleep until 8 after eating. He probably would have kept sleeping too, but we were so freaked out we kept checking on him. I'll try to check that impulse in the future.

I'm not naive enough to think that all our sleep issues are solved forever more, but anything that makes me feel well rested is appreciated for any amount of time. It just feels like we might be getting there, really getting there, and it helps me approach bedtime with happy hope instead of deep-down dread.

That's all I have time for today, but it seems like more than enough.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Celebrate Me Home

Happy Veterans Day! I just this morning found out that difference between Veterans Day and Memorial Day is that VD was intended to be celebratory while MD should be more solemn. How about that.

I find myself getting more and more mindful of observing the holiday as years go on. This is not only because world circumstances can't seem to stop creating opportunities for people to serve in the military, but also because my appreciation for the people who have cleared the path for the very easy life I get to live increases with every bit of maturity I somehow accumulate. I am a pacifist by nature, but it doesn't mean I don't have the utmost respect for the people who put their life on the line for me to preach peace.

Naturally it makes me think of the veterans that I have known, in particular my keenly missed Pup. He will always be my favorite person in the world. I named my baby after him, and I would have even if he had been a girl. Pup took part in the Normandy invasion and served as MP and as an interpreter in Europe World War II. It's so hard to imagine that the same soft, kind person I knew saw what he saw and did what he had to do to protect this country when he was no more than a boy. He very rarely talked about it, and I don't blame him. But I took his bravery for granted, just as I took his love.

We're celebrating here, so here's a list of things that remind me of Pup, my most beloved veteran, in the most wonderful way:

-the music of Mama Cass Elliott.

-oatmeal with honey and milk. He hated the stuff, being forced to eat it every day of his childhood, but he made it for me on dark winter mornings and when I make it for myself it's shorthand for home.

-Barney Miller

-impossible jigsaw puzzles and games of solitaire with cards worn down to velvet, playing until he "beat the bonhomme!"

-rocking babies to sleep. He was masterful at this, in spite of his terrible singing voice. We joked that it was actually because of the singing, as babies went to sleep to block it out. He made up his own lullaby, and it's the one I sing to HR every night.

-finding change on the ground. He went for long walks every day--doctor's orders--following the quadruple bypass when he was in his late 50s, and he came home with at least a dollar a day.

-stinky feet. You could tell if he was taking his nap from the second you opened the door to his apartment because it was obvious by the smell that his slippers were off. Because of him, foot odor doesn't bother me at all.

-well, just everything. I'll never meet a better person in my life, and I was lucky to have him as long as I did. If HR turns out to be a quarter of the man his great-grandfather was, I'll consider my parenting a success.

Man, this has been an unexpectedly emotional week for me.  But today the most prominent feeling is happiness in my heart in honor of my Pup. The atrocity of war is nothing to celebrate, but no matter what your philosophy or political slant, those who serve in the military deserve to be feted with gratitude.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

I Didn't Say I Drank it Before Breakfast...

This is very, very good weather for listening to The National. And drinking hot coffee and wearing soft hoodies and staying in bed. And storing certain types of cheese, I guess. But that's about it. I look forward to the return of the sun, if only for a few hours.

HR had a much, much better night last night and so we're all the happier for it. Keep in mind his "good" wake-up time is still around 6:30, so we were dressed and raring to go by 8 a.m. and decided to go to Trader Joe's and pick up some much-needed groceries. If you avoid this otherwise wonderful purveyor of goods because it is obnoxiously crowded, I'm telling you, give it a shot when they first open. Not only is the place freshly stocked, but parking is plentiful, there are no lines at the cash and you can cruise around the store without getting stuck behind the dreaded aisle hogs. Plus there's a certain thrill that comes with buying wine before breakfast. Even if you don't have another reason to be out of bed, it's worth getting up. I think we'll be doing all our shopping bright and early from now on.

You may or may not have noticed, but I've dropped the blog-of-the week bit. Not because there aren't many amazing blogs to share, just because I'm not good at recurring features. I'll continue to share things that strike me from time to time, just not on any kind of schedule.

Today's random show-and-tell corner: I have a soft spot for foul-mouthed broads who can do a mean lawn sprinkler imitation. And so, Pink.


Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Not Fade Away

Last night was the best night we've had in awhile, meaning three wake-ups between bedtime and morning-time instead of the previous night's seven. HR got in a solid 4 + hour block of sleep right off the bat, which is the longest he's stayed down at once for quite some time. I can very nearly live with that, especially since I am finding that the ideas put forth in the current sleep book I'm reading are much more in line with my parenting philosophy than any I've come across so far. It gives me concrete hope that if I keep at it we'll make it to a workable sleeping environment for everyone. So "up for the day" meant 5:30 on this morning, and the coffee I pounded before work (while he took his hard-core morning nap at 7:30 instead of the usual 9... oh boy...) has already worn off. So I occasionally slog through my days in a cotton-headed ninnymuggins haze. It wakes me up when I'm seized with the feeling that nighttime triumph--however temporary--cannot be so very far away. They don't call them baby steps for nothing.

But enough about that. For now. Who is getting psyched for Thanksgiving besides this guy? It's so close, and here I haven't even planned the menu (for Mike to cook, of course) yet. All I know is that we'll follow the meal with the traditional bowl o' mixed nuts in the shell. I don't know why I love the holiday nut bowl, I don't even eat that many of them and it makes a godawful mess. Last year I was nearly blinded by a walnut shell-- luckily I was wearing my glasses at the time and was able to deflect the flying shard. Mike sure does love to tell the tale about the time he nearly put my eye out with his nuts, though.

As in many things, I guess it's a nostalgic thing for me. My dearly missed Aunt Sue used to host many of the holiday gatherings when I was growing up and she always had a big fruit basket and a platter of nuts around to munch on post dinner. Looks like I subconsciously decided to take an entertaining cue from her. What I should really do is get a working record player and get the dance party going like she always did. I know that many of you who read this can clearly call to mind Aunt Sue doing the shimmy to Sandy Nelson's version of "Wipeout." This January will mark 15 years since she died. 15 years! Not a day has gone by in all that time when I didn't think of her, and I imagine that will never change.

Hmm, I didn't mean for this entry to take such a bittersweet turn, but sometimes that just happens.

What are your favorite Thanksgiving foods and traditions? I'd love to hear them if you're inclined to share.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Progress/Regress

We passed an uneven, but mostly really great weekend.

The good: seeing family and friends, having lots of time to enjoy HR, who is at the most fun stage yet, and wedding dress success for my sister, K! Oh yeah, and my future sister-in-law, W! They both found their dream gowns at the crazy sale on Saturday and nobody lost any major limbs. Actually it was quite pleasant and civilized. And I found myself watching strangers try on gowns and wanting to tell them how awesome they looked. OK, I did a few times. The fun was contagious. I'm still glad I never went through all that, but it was a lot better than I thought. Plus K's gown is amazing and so perfectly her - I can't wait to see her wear it in June. I had to get going before I got to see what W chose but I hear it's mighty lovely.

The not-so-good: just one thing, but it's a big one. SLEEP. Rather, NO SLEEP. HR is back to his old tricks, meaning, his pre-three-month old patterns of nighttime waking. The past three nights have been pretty dismal, and I'm chalking it up to 1) sleeping away from home; 2) having guests in our home and him getting overexcited and 3) the time change. I suspect that teething might claim some responsibility as well. Our bedtime routine is solid, so what else can I do? I'm trying to be patient and ride it out, but man, when you get a taste of good sleep it's much harder to go back to constantly interrupted snoozing. Tonight's got to be better. And if not, then tomorrow. The important thing is that he's healthy and happy on all other counts. I feel a mantra coming on here.

Becks, I picked up the No-Cry Sleep Solution on your rec, and so far it feels like a winner. Possibly only because it totally validates my parenting style, but it's all just guess work isn't it? If I find something that works I'll definitely share it.

Happy *&%$! Monday!

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Dressy Bessy

Here's a quirk of which I've only recently become aware: I have this thing about watching people getting their makeup done. It's relaxing to me, almost hypnotic. This is at odds with my personal makeup regimen, I suppose, which consists of moisturizer and lip balm. A dab of mascara, perhaps even eyeliner on a special occasion. As with most things, I like to expend as little effort as possible, plus I figure if people are used to me sans paint, I'm not in danger of being caught without my face on. But any time I flip by a TV show where they're showing how to apply bronzer or eyeshadow I have to watch for awhile and my blood pressure suddenly drops.

I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a tomboy, and it's not like I don't want to look good, just that I have little patience with anything beyond basic grooming. That goes for clothing, too. Occasionally I watch a bit of  Say Yes to the Dress when I'm pumping and the fact that this kind of show exists boggles my mind, probably because, for one, I can't imagine spending that much money on an article of clothing that will be worn for a few hours. And the women they show on there a lot of the time, they are so spoiled and out of touch with reality. I can't stand people who think their time is more important than yours. Probably what bothers me most about the show though is that these women take their entire families to help them pick out a dress and then they're all conflicted when everyone offers their opinions. I HATE shopping, but I hate even more the idea of someone helping me shop. Ask Mike, if I ever ask your opinion on how something looks, it means I really want to hear it, because I ask like once every five years. I guess you could say I keep my own counsel.

So I'm going to help my sister find her bridal gown this weekend--it's one of those "running of the brides" free-for-all sales--and surprisingly I'm not all het up about it, probably because the gown is for her and not for me. In conclusion, I'm just a mess of contradictions.

Happy Thursday!

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Attack of the Pod Baby

You wouldn't know it from what I usually write in here, but I'm actually a rather political person. But like most of the country right now, I'm suffering from election fatigue and I lack the energy to address the many fine points of the 2010 midterm fooferaw. It was a hateful scene all around. I'll say that I'm glad I'm a Massachusetts resident and leave it at that for the moment.

And now for the really important stuff of humanity: Halloween pictures. Saturday night we went to a kids-and-adults party and Mike and I went as Chris and Meg Griffin while HR was baby Stewie. If there were a thought bubble over his head, I'm pretty sure it would read, "Blast, vile woman!"
As an aside, do you know how hard it is to find red overalls? Very. I found this pair on etsy, and they probably won't be worn again because they are so vintage that they predate crotch snaps. No good for diaper changing. Still, is that a cute baby or what?

Cuter still:
Kvell-o-rama. My favorite part is the look on his face. Not that we did anything in this costume but visit Mike at work (I don't get people who trick-or-treat with infants or even toddlers unless they already have older children). I just had it on hand and figured it was my right as a mama to record the moment so I can humiliate him later in his life. That alone makes up for all the middle-of-the-night waking.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Sellout

I did two things this morning: participated in the democratic process, and entered a writing contest based on the first 250 words of my work-in-progress. Never mind that the draft is very much in progress, that is, not finished. What better incentive to whip it into shape, eh? Best case scenario: I get picked and I have to pull an a couple of all-nighters to finish it up. It's not like I'm not awake anyway, BABY. I agree, this sounds like a ridiculous way to work, but 1) have you met me? And 2) I'll let my unblemished track record of 11th hour successes all the way through grad school speak for itself. I know myself, and the procrastinator ethic never dies. In any case, I needed an incentive to get this puppy back on the front burner, and for now this is it.

So yeah, it's November. This is my favorite time of year. I like all the seasons, especially the changing part, which is why I could never leave New England. But I really, really, really love the buildup to the winter holidays. Thanksgiving is my joint. It's been my favorite ever since I was a little kid. Xmas is a bit more complicated. Since the onset of adulthood, I've grown increasingly jaded with the gift-giving holidays, but now that I have a kid I'm coming back around. I'm really looking forward to reviving old traditions and creating new ones. Sure the overall commercialization is still disheartening, but I like Christmas specials and Christmas carols and getting together with family. I can't wait to see HR get all excited over cardboard boxes. The point is, I'm a sap at heart and that will never change. Let's go, then, with the sleigh bells and twinkle lights.


I was going to post Halloween pictures here but blogger's giving me a hard time so that'll have to wait for tomorrow, alas.

Monday, November 1, 2010

UGGHH!

It's just another Monday morning in the nuthouse. I must say that in all my years here I've never seen such a consistent weekly escalation in nuttery. I don't think about my job at all over the weekend, ever, but on my first commute in of the week I always make a bet with myself that this Monday can't be as off the hook as last. Just call me the Buffalo Bills, because I am on a losing streak (too soon?). Ah, but I can honestly say I've never been bored at this job.

Things are getting wildly inconsistent with HR's sleeping, so that only adds to my mental disarray. Friday night, when we broke him of the swaddle once and for all, he slept like a perfect angel. I was so shocked, and so excited, that I knew better than to think it would happen again. Enter the jacked-up jackery of Saturday and Sunday night. Saturday we slept away from home, so I can't hold him accountable for that. But I assumed last night would be more normal, as it usually is after a tough night. Obviously I can stick my assumptions in a sack, Mister.

I'm not going to get frustrated or anything, I know I just need to be consistent with our routine and hope for the best every night. Tonight we'll add a bath into the mix (we usually bathe him in the morning) and see if that helps. Overall I can't really complain about this baby because the joy he has added to our lives trumps the joy of sleeping a million times over. It just helps me work through the snags to write about them. I don't want to overshadow the milestone that after 6 months of burrito baby, HR is FINALLY ready to free-form it in the crib.

I've got George Winston's December going in my iTunes and suddenly this day is feeling a-ok. Coming soon: scenes from HR's first Halloween.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Depends on What Your Definition of "Real" Is....

We had an uncharacteristically tough time putting Sir Six-Month-Old-Pants to bed last night, not sure if it had something to do with the round of shots or what but he didn't get to sleep until almost 10 - thankfully he stayed down for a solid eight-hour chunk of sleep after that. Ridiculous baby boy. What else can you do but love him? He's sitting up for a minute at a time now! It's great, but holy margarine it only serves to magnify the amount--and urgency--of rugrat-proofing ahead of us.

The "firsts" are coming so fast and furious now. This weekend we have baby's first professional photos, followed by baby's first Halloween. We're going to a family party and doing a family-concept costume. I'm hoping that what it lacks in "Awww"-factor it'll make up for in cleverness. I'll post a picture afterward and you can judge for yourself.

Happy Thursday, goblins. I've got some real writing coming up in here very soon. Maybe.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Happy H-B, HR!

HR came to work with me for a few hours this morning, needless to say I am way behind so I can't linger here. I just wanted to write quickly about what we did earlier - we brought him to the pediatrician for his six-month check-up. Six! Months! I can't comprehend that we're halfway to his first birthday as of today. Time is moving so fast. Aside from getting the shots (which made him cry for all of 30 seconds), all parties at the appointment were very pleased with the baby's progress. He's a good eater (clocking in at twice his birth weight) and a pretty decent sleeper (the doc was of the opinion that if we're OK with the nighttime routine as it is, why mess with it?) and he's got a happy disposition. So what more can anyone ask for?

I am very fortunate and really enjoying this time in our lives. Seems like a good sentiment on which to go out for today.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Eerie (But Not Unwelcome) Coincidence

HR must be reading this. How else do you explain him sleeping from 8:15-5:15 and then going back to sleep for 2+ more hours after eating? I'm sure it's more of a one-off than the way it's actually going to be, but damn, what timing! Of course Mike and I both got up like ten times to check on him because (vay-pahs!) what could be wrong with him that he's acting like a normal baby? It felt like gift in any case, and I'll treat it as such. Maybe his one-day-early six-month present to us?

I was listening to the radio on the way in to work this morning and John Lennon's "Watching the Wheels" came on. Normally I would have skipped by it. Don't get me wrong, I am a huge Beatles fan. I don't trust people who say they don't like the Beatles. You don't like the Beatles? It's like saying you don't like air or sunshine. It's essential, there's nothing to like or not like. I feel like people who make such a statement are being provocative or have something to prove. Anyway, the point is that, in spite of/because of my lifetime fandom, I rarely listen to a Beatles or solo Beatle song on the radio because I have heard them all so many times over that I just have to be struck in the right mood. And today I was in the right mood for "Watching the Wheels." It really made me think that what's so tragic about John Lennon's death, to me, is not the death itself so much but that it happened at a time when he was just figuring out that he didn't want to be a dick anymore. Who knows what he could have done with all that positive energy? Maybe his songwriting would have suffered, become reflective and self-indulgent (which "Wheels" arguably portends). But a guy with all that charisma, deciding that the world is suddenly his friend? It's a damn shame that we didn't get to find out.

And now for something really important: the Halloween candy poll. What's your favorite? Mine, currently, is Milky Way Midnight.

Have a sweet, nougat-y, caramel-y day.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Babies. That is All.

Sunday mornings used to mean sleeping in as long as possible and hauling my hungover butt to the couch to watch Phantom Gourmet until the hunger took over to inform our day's plans. Now they mean rising at 6 a.m. (or later if we're lucky), with a prolonged family cuddle, coffee and CBS Sunday Morning. This is fast becoming my favorite time of the week. For one, we don't have to rush around because though Mike has to work, he doesn't have to be in until late morning. The CBS program is made for elderly dorks like me, with the corny, comforting bow-tie-wearing host and the bite-sized human-interest stories about squaresville things like fountain pen collectors. It's a nice gentle part of our ritual. And I think I mentioned the cuddling. Can't get enough of that, especially since some babies don't stay cuddly forever so I'm getting in as much as I can now just in case.

The nights are getting, um, interesting, I guess would be the word? It seems like we have a good night every other night, which is a hell of a lot better than no nights. HR's consistently going down by 8 p.m. and getting in at least four hours before waking, which is golden, but he does still wake at least once, often twice. I'm not ready to do the cry-it-out thing yet. Even if he's theoretically ready for it, I'm not. But we're still inching toward other bedtime goals. I'm trying my best to be consistent with my steps toward said goals, and even when my efforts seem to reward us only with less sleep. For example, when he woke up at 3 a.m. I really, really tried to get him to go back to sleep, first without taking him out of his crib (ha), then without nursing. At 4:15 I finally gave in and re-swaddled him and nursed and we all got to go back to sleep until 7. Maybe at some point the trying will pay off. Maybe tonight will be the night he sleeps straight on 'til morning. I just have to go in with that hope, and keep at it, even when it's frustrating. I do my best, with Mike's reassurance, not to worry about how much we might be screwing up, to keep in mind that it's not about success or failure but what's best for this individual family. It doesn't do me any good to compare him to other babies, even if I am a bit envious when I hear of much younger babies with more consistent sleep habits. I just have to remind myself how far we've come from the days when we couldn't even set him down. And his napping has greatly improved. So we'll get there. Maybe. As long as he's healthy and happy, we'll figure the rest out. That's the bottom line.

Actually, our niece is eight weeks old and finally got to leave the hospital to go home this weekend and that's the bottom, BOTTOM line in the scheme of things. Go go go little A!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Back and Forth

We're going through a very trying time here at work. This is when I am at my best--somehow I was born to operate in and make sense out of chaos-- and I do get some kind of perverse enjoyment out of taking charge and fixing things. But I will be happy when this moon wanes. It's doubly exhausting. I can't actually complain though, because I am here working and not in the circumstance that requires people to come to this place (never ever can I overlook this) and this is my chance to actually help the maximum amount of people possible in one day. So overall, not a bad thing. You don't need to know the details to know that it's worth the adrenaline spike and subsequent letdown. I will be mighty appreciative when things are calmer.

Today is sort-of my Friday, so I like to ease into the weekend times with something fun. And while I know that this is the result of nepotism and maybe a little of the dreaded auto-tune, I love it so hard.



I wonder what it's like to grow up in the Pinkett-Smith home. I like to think that it's totally awesome and fun all the time. If you find out it's not don't tell me and shatter my image.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Which is Nice

I had a lot of cavities when I was a kid, so I was at the dentist all the time. I was never afraid to go and get my teeth filled. Looking back, I know it was partly because I was purposely kept in the dark about what exactly was going on in my mouth, but mostly because of the nitrous oxide. I guess that explains my uncharacteristic need to jam out to the Dead on the ride home, too. Honestly though, after yesterday's three-hour dental visit that I don't want to even go into, I was nostalgic for the days of blissful ignorance and mind-altering gas. One positive thing I came away with was a renewed appreciation for science, particularly the science that makes pain relief possible. Novocain is good. Epidurals are good. Even when you have an accurate idea of what terrifying things are going on in the parts of your body you can't feel, the not-feeling part is a way to keep from losing your mind when thinking about it. Science, you are my valentine forever.

My non-valentine forever is horror movie season, specifically because the ads for these movies run at times when young children (or extremely wussy adults) could be watching. I do not need to be hit with that Paranormal Activity 2 commercial when I'm alone in the house in the dark with a baby. Or ever, but especially then. I just want to watch an episode of the Simpsons without having to cover my eyes and ears during every commercial break, is that so much to ask? As if my video monitor didn't already freak me out enough.

Oh but there are definitely advantages to the video monitor. At about 3 a.m. I heard HR squawking and just watched to see if I needed to get out of bed to help him get settled--the answer is almost always yes--but it turned out I got to witness self-soothing in action. He turned on his side, stuck his thumb in his mouth and went back to sleep. Sure that was one time out of four or five in the night that he was able to achieve this, but as with any milestone, if he did it once, it means he'll do it again...someday. And someday's good enough for me. Plus it's some encouraging evidence that my swaddling step-down program is working.

So I've got that going for me. And that's a good base from which to build a fine Wednesday.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Roll Out the Baby

In the history of my working life, few Mondays have kicked my ass harder than this one. It doesn't help that I have a raging toothache and the dentist can't see me until tomorrow. I've never had a toothache before. They hurt, did you know this? It's not easy to work through, but the distraction provided by work does help in its way.

I'd be remiss if I didn't pop on here and mention the latest milestone and it's that HR is now a rolling-over dude. As of this weekend he's completed the back-to-belly as well as the belly-to-back. So hooray! And: uh-oh! Guess that's the end of napping on the couch. Poor little buddy was down with something all weekend, we can't tell if it's a cold or teething or both. He's remained a Smiley Joe through it all, nursing and eating his food with gusto, so I'm not going to worry too much about him, just do what we can to keep him happy.

Anyway, I have to go back and present my ass for more kicking as the day is young.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Not Even Close

Ah, working from home. Just like working from the office, except here I've got endless cups of really good coffee with half & half. And I don't have to change out of my pajamas. And I don't have to pump. It's worth the extra bit of work to make myself focus. Right now the baby's napping, Mike's making pulled pork in the slow cooker and I'm getting ready to clock in. I just wanted to make a clarification about yesterday's entry first lest it is believed that I am more hardcore than I actually am: I don't do 200 push-ups and crunches a day. Ha ha. No. 200 jumps of the rope per session,yes, but significantly fewer of the calisthenics. I just couldn't leave that out there to be misconstrued.

My folks are coming in this weekend for a little visit and I'm so excited because the baby has gone through a lot of changes since they've last seen him. The difference in his heft alone should be a shocker. All in all, I just really want to make sure he knows and is comfortable with his family. This is for his sake, but for ours as well because when we leave him with people in the future, chances are his caregiver will be someone we're related to and it will make it easier on all of us if it's someone with whom he's already familiar.

Anyway, I must go. It's a mess out there, so stay dry. I highly suggest telecommuting if you can. Happy, happy Friday!

Thursday, October 14, 2010

I'm #1

Housekeeping first: one very important thing I forgot to say about Mike, which LA pointed out, is that he's a total babe. That's how much I take it for granted. I think anyone who's seen him takes it for granted too which I guess is why I didn't manage to make a big deal about it. He can't help that he was born looking the way he does, but he does have control over being an upstanding person so that's more noteworthy. Anyway though, as I stated, he reminds me all the time that he thinks I'm pretty to his eyes, and it could not hurt for me to do the same for him. Who doesn't appreciate hearing that they're attractive? And though I think it all the time, he can't read my thoughts. Or can he by now? Eek.

I'm on top of a huge inspiration bubble after hearing my author/poet cousin read some of his poems on the radio the other night and talking to him last night about his manuscript. It was so fun to talk about writing like that, especially with somebody so talented. To put a selfish slant on it, it helped me see how getting good work done is possible and not only that, it got me reinvigorated about my love of writing and made me want to make writing dates with myself and stick to them. Also, to not abandon my current WIP which was my instinct. So thanks, cousin! No more excuses. Let's do this.

When I feel excited about the process like this, it inevitably opens my mind to all my other dream projects like writing a screenplay and/or a TV comedy (fine, I just want to be Liz Lemon). And songs. I heard Meatloaf's "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad" yesterday (bear with me)--  and I couldn't stop thinking about the genius in its construction. It's one of those songs, like "Escape (The Pina Colada Song)" and "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)" that seem to belong to the 1970s, mostly. These songs that tell a story, often ending in the same place it began but with a new perspective. If I had to think of a current song that accomplishes this, maybe it's Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats"? Anyway, the perfect pop song is a singular piece of artistry. I'd give up all the other talents if I could master this one. But first things first eh?

In other news, I'm feeling quite fit these days and I'll tell you why. Back when I was the only body I had to worry about, I used to take this killer class at the gym called Punk Rope. It was super fun, but it also kicked my ass. I loved it. Jumping rope is a great workout. So I bought a jump rope and I've been doing mini sessions every time I take a pump break. So I get in 200 jumps, push-ups and crunches three times a day. It doesn't take up that much extra time, and it really adds up, workout-wise. Until I can get back to regular running and yoga, the jump rope is my fitness secret weapon. I highly recommend it. But I will issue a warning to my lady friends (this is going to be TMI and probably shatter your image of me as a person you want to be around so look away if you're offended by bodily functions): jumping rope makes you pee. It's uncontrollable. It was true before, and it's double true now that my urethra has been messed with. So just, er, take precautions. The payoff is worth a little leakage.

And with that, I leave you for today.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

More Than Toast

Picture it, the summer of 1995 in the shittiest student-housing shithole of all of Brighton. Ah, the haus of many subletters, two of whom being your heroine (moi) and her yet-unmasked hero (Mike). My friend K and I wanted to spend the summer in the city so we found this deal wherein we would share a bedroom for wicked cheap and not have to go home to the sticks in between college semesters. There's another leg to this story wherein the summer went off the rails, friendship-wise, but it's too sad to recount, and yet another about how we found out about the sublet, but that part will give you Type 2 diabetes to read it so I'll leave it out for now. The point is, K and I moved in, and I promptly abandoned her to go home for a week to have my wisdom teeth removed. I called her post-surgery to get the feel of the house (there were 10 of us at any given time, and besides us everyone was of the dude persuasion).

"This one guy, Mike," she said. "You're gonna love him. You're gonna marry him."

So I did. I mean, I'm not that suggestible. It's just that she was right, we ended up being perfect for each other. And without further ado, 12 reasons to celebrate my husband, one for each year of our union.

-He is patient and level-headed and approaches issues from a calm, logical place. His has talked me down from many an emotional tizzy.

-He loves his family, but loves mine just as much.

-He makes me laugh, daily if not hourly.

-He is kind and generous, almost to a fault. Sometimes I think his overwhelming sense of compassion is going to be the end of him.

-He is an amazing cook and quite the little housekeeper.

-He's the king of unsolicited compliments, and never stops telling me that I'm beautiful and sexy, even when I'm not feeling it.

-He is a lifetime Red Sox fan. Let the importance of this never be underestimated.

-He has good (read: similar to my) taste in music, movies and TV shows. Part of K's theory that Mike and I should be playing house forever was based on his interest in the artifacts installed in my side of the room such as a Beastie Boys poster and a VHS copy of Dazed and Confused. They say opposites attract, but that Paula Abdul is a drug addict who has been known to hallucinate dancing cats, so who are you going to believe? There's no need to be twinsies in every aspect, but it just makes sense that good partnerships are rooted in having things that you share and enjoy together. Like beer and nachos (which are the official food of this marriage) and the ability to have  conversations composed exclusively of Family Guy quotations. So Mike will never not be disgusted with my love of So You Think You Can Dance or penchant for singing Wu Tang Clan to the baby. I will never get on board with Air Supply as a *thing* or share his excitement for JFK conspiracy theories. A little conflict is necessary to keep things from getting boring. But we're friends as well as partners. We enjoy each other's company. And for the most part this simpatico existence keeps it fun.

-We are politically like-minded. And he might not come out and say he's a feminist, but it's all in his actions.

-Despite his better judgment/social conscience/extreme neurosis, he acquiesced and entered the adventure of parenthood with me. I suspected that he would be a stellar parent, and my premonition is proving to be true. You know that whole privilege paradigm dealie that can be applied to whoever is the minority in any situation? I'm thinking in this instance about the man/woman power dynamic and the notion that women are expected to be perfect mothers while men get extra credit for marginal competence? Well that's a moot point in our home. Mike's not just an involved and engaged dad, but a really good parent by any standards. HR is the center of his universe.

-He's super, super smart. He doesn't just possess the kind of broad intelligence that, say, wins Jeopardy twice, but he's also grounded in the real world with a double dose of common sense.

-He's a workhorse who does what he needs to do for our family and never complains.

As I wrap this up I realize I could never do this man justice with only twelve examples. Which, I guess, is a good reason to keep him.

Happy Belated Anniversary, Mikey. I love you and the life we've built together. I'm sorry if I ever take you for granted, but please know I'm aware that I hit the jackpot when you came into my life.