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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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.

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?)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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!

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.

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.

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.