Good For What Ails Ya

This too shall pass... that was my weekend's mantra. "This," in this instance, being baby's first real cold. What I thought was teething (and it still might be, to boot) turned out to be a real em effer of an illness. It's been so hard on the poor guy, he has no idea what's happening to him and why we can't fix it. The worst part is missing his smile. He's usually so good natured and such a ham with an easy smile and laugh. The all-the-time crying and not being able to help him beyond my best efforts, it breaks my heart. Yes, I know, welcome to parenthood. We've both done our best to be liberal with cuddles and kisses and soothing words, which can be a downright challenge at 4 a.m. and he just won't return to his crib. Plus (though happily I hear he's doing well with Dada today so far) he only wants Mama when he's sick. I've been hauling him around endlessly and nursing like crazy, like I haven't done in months. I practically ran out the door to work this morning to get a little break. Just kidding about that (mostly). I feel so bad for the HR-ster. But really it's just a cold, the first of many, and I know he will be just fine. It will pass even though it feels like we'll be in this pattern of misery forever. I see people every day whose kids are really, really sick and I don't know how they handle it. Well, I do know. You just do it. But it's horrible. We've been so lucky with our guy.

Needless to say, though, we've been a sorry bunch since Thursday. Here's hoping tonight is the return of the sleep fairy. And if not tonight, then tomorrow night. It's what we all need, and how.

I'm sorry to give you such a nothing for an entry here but it is what it is. Maybe I can redeem myself with a little Levon Helm?

Neither One is Actually About Fish

Mike's dad is hospitalized with a back injury, so he's gone down to see him today and I took a personal day to hang with my little squirt. He's getting in a much needed nap (is this relentless teething a result of a late start? In any case, poor bug!) and I'm pounding some much needed caffeine while I have the chance. Our day's only just begun, but I think it should be a good one. A bonus of being home today means I get to attend his music class with him, Mike says he loves it and I'm looking forward to finally getting to experience it in person.

I'm on a real movie kick lately, helped along by Mike getting a lot of fill-in night gigs and dear, dear Netflix. Last night I watched Catfish. I won't bother with a synopsis, but anyone who's seen it, what did you think? I kind of had an idea which way it was headed, just not the exact details. It was absorbing, anyway. I think I recommend it. Same with Fish Tank, which I also watched recently - I liked it but didn't love it. I've started now on Downton Abbey and I'm hooked.

I'm going to wrap this up before my shortstack awakes. Have a deee-lite-ful day!

Pass the Eyeliner

GAH! Work is a regular full-moon monkey house. Oddly enough, I don't mind being here. I'm glad it's not exactly this chaotic all the time, but I think I'm at my best as an employee when it is. I'm good at working in near-crisis conditions, it's like solving a giant puzzle. This is not to say I don't look forward snuggling the bejesus out of HR tonight and then kicking back with the DVR and turning off my brain, but it makes for a seemingly quick and lively workday, and it leaves me feeling like I've really accomplished something. It doesn't allow for much in the way of blog time, however. So adieu for this fine Wednesday.

This is the song in my head, and I can't hear it without thinking of someone. You know who you are!

Audience Participation

I just heard Phoenix's audio joy-splosion, "Lisztomania" (which always makes me think of my boy, probably because I was hearing a lot around the time he was born) and it makes me think I need to make some lists.

So, in no particular order, my top 5 Red Sox of all time:

-David "Big" Papi Ortiz
(Does this image not totally make your heart glad? Baseball season's so close, guys.)

-Billy Mueller
-Jim Rice
-Manny Ramirez (yes, still)
-Johnny Pesky (for sentimental reasons)

Current Top 5 musicals, with the current favorite songs from each:

-Hair - Hmm, I'm going to go with "Walking in Space."
-Hedwig and the Angry Inch - "The Origin of Love"
-Jesus Christ Superstar (technically a rock opera) - "Heaven On Their Minds" (this is the single best thing in which Andrew Lloyd Webber has ever taken part. Don't argue with me. He totally should have quit while he was ahead.)
-Guys and Dolls - "The Oldest Established"
-Spring Awakening - "My Junk"

Top 5 movie sequels:

-The Empire Strikes Back (superior to the original in my blasphemous opinion)
-Breakin' 2: Electric Bugaloo (ditto)
-The Godfather II (Hyman Roth!)
-The Naked Gun 2 1/2
-Jaws IV: The Revenge (except not really)

Top 5 cover versions of songs:

-Stevie Wonder's "Higher Ground" as performed by the Red Hot Chili Peppers
-Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" a/p/b Scissor Sisters
-"California Uber Alles" originally by the Dead Kennedys, kicked up by Disposable Heroes of Hiphopracy
-"Woodstock" - the CSNY version
-"Walk Away Renee" by the Four Tops. The Left Banke version is dumb, forget it happened.

Top shows you should be watching right now:

-Community (have I mentioned this enough?)
-Bob's Burgers
-Episodes
-Raising Hope
-Skins (get the original series on DVD, I'm not bothering with MTV version on principle)

Top 5 feelings of life:

-nursing the baby at night, when he trails his hand over my mouth and I pretend to eat his fingers and he gives me a huge, sleepy smile
-stepping off the plane when arriving someplace warm, preferably Caribbean
-waking up and realizing it's the first morning of your vacation
-the "night before" feeling, be it Christmas Eve, Thanksgiving Eve, Friday... you know what I'm saying
-being at a dancing-type place and hearing the first notes of your song. Like this:



I hear it and I'm all, "THAT'S MAH SONG!" How can you not get up and dance, you know?

Agree with me! Or tell me I'm wrong, tell me I'm stupid, hey, send me your own lists. I'm a list junkie and that goes for other people's as well.

Trivial

My family came in this weekend, which is great, we've just been hanging out and spoiling the young gentleman of the house. They're all still at home doing that, and I'm at work doing... work. It's a hard knock life.

Speaking of, we had our first little baby trauma on Friday wherein he wiggled out of my grasp while we were sitting on the couch and SPLAT, fell head first on the hardwood floor. He's just fine. I'm not sure I'll ever recover, but I guess that's just part of being a mama. We just got the first of one million accidents out of the way.

Last night I got to do something I used to do on a weekly basis but haven't in a very long time and that is play bar trivia. My mother and grandmother took care of HR and the rest of us tagged along to Mike's gig. We played horribly. Embarrassingly bad, since we pride ourselves on our useless knowledge skills. I have no excuse for our performance, but it was still very fun and it was great for me to get out and see some familiar faces.

And now, because I don't think I've ever linked it here, my favorite song of all time.



There is no why, it just is. Happy Dead Prez, y'all.

Notorious D.O.R.K.

It smells of Spring out there today. It's cruel I suppose, but I'll take the tease.

Sleeping? Don't ask, don't tell has yet to be repealed in that department.

I have a way-too-long entry about karaoke in the works but I don't have time to write it today.

What I do have time for, like always: a jam from the early-mid 1990s. Remember when Ken Griffey Jr. had this as his at-bat music? Just me?



Seriously though, how do you hear the first note of this song and not lose your mind? Having lost my mind every time, I couldn't tell you.

How Soon Before We Get the Porn Version, Winter's Boner?

I was feeling on top of the world last week when HR was showing all signs of being a champion sleeper. Obviously I knew better than to think it could be more than fleeting, but there's always that stubborn spark of hope in the back of my mind that this time, this time he's got it.... Oh but sure enough, Friday brought the return of the unhappy night waker and every night since has gotten progressively worse. I know it's because he's got another tooth working its way out, so I do whatever I can to soothe him including nursing at night when I thought we were over that. In prioritizing his comfort, I'm not even remotely trying to help him learn how to sleep on his own. But we'll get back to that, I know it'll pass soon. It's just frustrating to see "success" within your grasp and then stand there helpless as it slips further away than it was before. This merely reinforces that the only thing babies can be counted on to do with any consistency (besides provide total constant cuteness) is change the game as soon as you think you've mastered the rules. Reminding myself of this helps in the tougher times, but I try not to think about it when things are going well.

Leaving for work this morning, coffee in hand, sun shining, I kissed my two favorite men and left them waltzing to Anne Murray and it was like, yeah, what's a little sleep deprivation in the scheme of things? Upside, you win again.

Here's an excellent film (if you have a very light comedy cued up to watch immediately after): Winter's Bone. This movie is haaaarsh, but so good. John Hawkes as always gives a mesmerizing performance, and Jennifer Lawrence--wow--who are you? It's perfectly cast, perfectly chilling. Put it on your queue, or go see it in the theater (it's still playing a lot of places because it's an Oscar contender I think?). I'm not kidding about the comedy chaser though.

I've really been neglecting classic rock lately, so here's probably my favorite Zeppelin joint, and it's LIVE, baby. Which means probably set aside an hour if you want to see the whole thing.

A National Grammar Rodeo? In Canada?

While it's no secret that I love rap and hip-hop and all sorts of popular dance music (I think I might mention it from time to time), it's even less of a secret that I'm a huge nerd. In theory these two aspects of my personality should happily co-exist, but in practice they diverge due to my insistence on precise grammar.  That I can't ever just let the wee editor that lives in my brain have a rest long enough to fully enjoy a song is bound to keep me from ever being cool (right, that's the only thing). It's not like I'll stop dancing mid-song if the lyrics bother me, but if you think I don't pause to uncap my red pen then you do not know me. No sir, you don't. Behold, a few examples.

Have you heard "Pop Champagne" by Ron Browz? There's too much autotune, of course, but at this point if I'm going to put up a fight about that I may as well not listen to any music that's come out in the past five years. I overlook it because I think it's pretty fun. Until the part when one of the guys in the song says, "I wanna see you dance, see you dance, without no shirt, without them pants." I have imagined this scenario with a girl dancing with/for the singer all sexy-like and when he gets to that part she sort of stops for clarification. "So you want me to dance fully clothed then? Either way is fine, I just want to be clear before I start on these boots because they're a bitch to put back on." A perfectly good moment, ruined. If only he hadn't mucked it up by using a double negative!

There's a Jennifer Hudson song called "Where You At." I don't think that needs further commentary from me.

And then the granddaddy: "Empire State of Mind" and its ever-confounding, "Concrete jungle where dreams are made of." Jay- Z you know I love you, but what does that even mean? I guess I can see where they're going with... no actually, I have no idea. It's just a bunch of gibberish. Despite that the song came to be played to nauseating proportions, I can't ignore its anthemic brilliance. But that one lyric, in the chorus no less, how did it not get killed off at the last minute? I've decided that it's this generation's "goo goo goo joob." I need to believe that to sleep at night.

I'm not soulless, or heaven forbid, racist (most current music is guilty of similar abuse, for example, country music is just as maddening to me, I just choose not to listen to it). Messing with grammar, in the scheme of things, is small potatoes. And I do it myself, I mean, what are rules if not to be broken? It's common parlance, it's American culture, it's whatever you want to call it. But I can't help that I bristle every single time. I know that about myself, and I'm working through it. My love of music and proper English have yet to be put asunder. See, I probably didn't even use that correctly.

Anyway, today's musical selection, accordingly, is brought to you by a repeat grammar offender, though I can't stay mad at him. That's right: Dwayne Carter III, Weezy, a self-described goblin with whom I am inexplicably infatuated. Urban legend has it that there was once a performance of this song wherein Questlove? of the Roots did the "A Milli" part live through the whole thing and KILT it. It is my life's purpose to prove that this exists, so if anyone can help, I'd be mighty grateful. I'm pretty sure the price of seeing something so potentially insane is a Ringu-style facemelt, but that's a price I'm willing to pay. Until I find it though, here's this.

Sweet

I don't really do Valentine's day, but I do do love, lots, and every day (and I'm very much aware that I said doo-doo-- one thing I love is that I know for sure that's the first thing Mike will say when he reads this). Come to think of it, this blog is more often than not a running list of things I love, and I make no apologies about that. But that said, in honor of this silly unavoidable holiday, here's five more things I love because, well, roses die and diamonds aren't my best friend, but writing something in an electronic format makes it forever, right?

LOVE: Tradi-TION! Growing up, my grandfather always gave all his "little sweethearts" (his grandchildren) candy for Valentine's. His son is of course not my grandfather, but he's someone's grandfather now, so he's taken the reins on this one. I got a little Russell Stover sampler in the mail this weekend, and though the chocolates are long gone, I'm still feeling the sweet tug of memory on my heart. I am way into tradition in general, I observe lots of them, but this is one I'd nearly forgotten.

LOVE: the internet - I love that it was invented. I'm terrible at the phone, and occasionally a dolt in person so I appreciate the way it helps me communicate in my personal life as well as professional one. Plus I can find out who sang that commercial jingle from 1981 that's stuck in my head plus find a video clip in like five seconds. It helped launch a little revolution of late. It's a dangerous tool of unknowable scary power. It's good to take a break from it from time to time. And in its short history it has vastly enriched my life.

LOVE: pancakes. LOVE. I am happy to make them at home, but I've never been able to make them as good as they consistently do in a diner setting. Self: let's get some pancakes this weekend.

LOVE: I can just think, oh, I want pancakes, and can go get them. From a geographic standpoint (I am within a ten minute walk of at least three establishments that flap a mean jack) this is cool, but the part I revere most gratefully is that I have the ability to do so. I'm not a woman of great means I assure you, but with some moderately hard work (I say moderate because neither of us are exactly saving lives, nor are we breaking rocks to earn our dough) we do OK and I can never take this for granted.

LOVE: best for last... these charming dudes, who are very nearly my everything. Though love doesn't even begin to describe what I feel for these beauties.

To conclude, here's my favorite love song in recent memory. I can't believe it's already four years old.

Thanks for Asking!

I don't read a lot of magazines that aren't about food. This is mostly because they often make me crazy, particularly the woman-centric magazines. They find a way to dredge up my pet issues (no pun intended. Fine, pun totally intended) and I'm better off not getting het up about things I can easily choose to avoid. But since I usually forget to bring my own reading material when I'm in waiting room type situation, I'll check out a woman-focused periodical from time to time, and it seems that every one of them, from InStyle to Shape, has a feature about a famous person, asking, "What are you madly in love with right at this moment?" And it's always like, "Almonds! I eat five and they keep me full from breakfast to dinner. And these platform wedges (with a pic of said wedges) that are so comfortable, they go with everything, I wear them to pick them my kids up from school and also to go out for a night on the town [Prada, $5,400])." Celebrities, they're just like us!

Clearly nobody's going to write a feature like that about me. So hey, Ima just write one myself. (I'm participating in an extremely dull webinar right now, I need a distraction.)

Currently rocking my world:

Turkey Hill's "party cake" flavor ice cream. It's got chunks of cake right in the ice cream. It's magnificent. Add a glass of wine, voila, instant dinner!

Crazy Heart - we finally watched it after holding onto the Netflix copy for... how long since the baby was born? Jeff Bridges was ridiculously good. Loved the soundtrack. Erm, is it bad that we paused it halfway through to pour ourselves a bourbon?

Nicki Minaj? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. "I look like yes and you look like no." I'm smitten with the Young Money conglomerate in general, but mostly her.

Jason Sudeikis. He's been a celeb crush of mine since his Floyd Barber days, but now he's everywhere from Portlandia (recommendable in its own right) to the new probably-terrible Owen Wilson movie that I'll see anyway. That smile kills me. Did you know he's George Wendt's nephew? That sounds like something I'd make up and you'd believe me because, why would I lie about that? But it's true. Or is it?

Raising Hope (thank you Brandon for the reminder)- so lovely. It's the best comedy on TV after Community, I believe, with so much heart. Martha Plimpton and Garret Dillahunt kill it as the parents.

The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins. I'm way late to the party on this one. Fashionably late, I like to think. As a heroine, Katniss Everdeen could kick Bella Swan's ass up and down the river and string up Edward and Jacob and the freaky vampire pedo-promised baby with the terrible name for good measure. The books are riveting.

Do-gooding - Mike and I helped rescue our neighbors' runaway dog this morning (not the jerk neighbors, but we would have done it for their stupid dog too, I guess), and it was a great feeling to play a part in something that could have had a very different and unhappy outcome. Morrissey would approve.

You Walk Pretty, You Talk Pretty, You Make Me Sick

So as I've stated, I'm no Gleek, but I never said I wasn't a geek. So bear with me while I talk about Glee some more, or skip it if you have better things to do, or, you know, brains.

I'll start with the airing of grievances. The main characters have bored the crap out of me for the longest time. I don't want to see Finn or Quinn or Rachel for awhile (no offense to Lea Michele, I have the Spring Awakening recording and listen to it always). The love stories are dumb, they do nothing for the plot. The action is all in the peripheral characters, for better or worse.

For worse: so the big self-loathing closeted bully on the football team, this is one character for whom I want reparations. I think they've drawn out his storyline for way too long without any payoff. I can't imagine him coming out at this point, and I don't like the way they took the easy way out in explaining why he was so menacing to the openly gay character. Sure, historically some of the most vocal homophobes use hate to deflect their own homosexuality (*cough*Larry Craig*cough*) but it's not enough to fall back on this trope. If you're going to make him such a big part of the storyline, go further. Give us some of his home life or something. Using a straw man for such a huge, timely issue is way disappointing. I'm hoping he can just go away now and they can let an otherwise super cute actor do something more worthy.

And the one that has driven me extremely crazy until halfway through last night's episode: Lauren Zizes, otherwise known as the fat girl. Its great that they include a character who doesn't fit in the Hollywood cookie cutter, but the way her character has been written up until now has been so offensive! I mean, really, her being overweight is her entire personality? Showing her eating all the time is OK because she's big and that's all big people do, eat? It's not funny at all. It's lazy and hurtful. I wonder if the writers have been listening to feedback about this because of the semi-thoughtful storyline wherein she rejects Puck's advances. It still walks a fine line of insult, but I appreciate that she called him out on the (WAY overused) Queen serenade and I feel like things have a chance to get interesting with this character. Here's hoping they don't screw it up.

Now for better, or, why I can't quite quit the show: I still love Kurt, especially now that they've dialed back the pissiness that marked the first part of the season. He brings everyone together and he gets some of the best non-Brittany lines. And here's the big one keeping me watching right now: Darren Criss. Ooh, he is flawless, and he gets the best songs. I want to high-five whoever decided the Warblers should sing "Bills Bills Bills" since that song is old as shit and a totally underrated part of the Destiny's Child oeuvre. And are you kidding me with "When I Get You Alone?" Because I thought I was the only one in the world who remembered that song let alone bought it from iTunes in the past year. I might have been the only 2010 purchaser, but I'm sure its sales are way up as of today. It's somewhat comforting to know that someone besides me has Thicke the Younger on their radar... I mean, what? I didn't say any of that. Did someone tell you I used to think he was fine when he had long hair? Because that was someone else.

*Palate Cleanser*

Here's this, which is just so neat.



I spent way too much time talking about a TV show. But it's a show a LOT of people watch, and in my opinion when you have that kind of success, you also have responsibility, as writers and whatnot, to not just coast along. I'm not saying to sell out your creative vision or pander to appease every little group, but you've got the staff and the talent to put some effort into the messages you're sending. This is arguably one of the most diverse/inclusive casts on TV, meaning they have a prominent disabled character (even if the actor himself isn't paraplegic), several actors with Downs Syndrome who are integrated into the cast and not relegated to Very Special Episodes, and one of the most genuine relationships between a gay teen and his father. Good on them. But here's the thing: they can do better.

Yes, I Know It's Really About God

....and we have a pulling-up-to-standing-in-his-crib guy. In addition to a slept-straight-from-8 p.m.-to-6:15 a.m. last night guy. I LOVE this guy. Not that I have any faith that this will be an every-night guy, but it's a personal best and it gives me hope once again that the buoy marked "sleeping through the night" is bobbing out there on the horizon. By the way, I totally stole the "guy" parlance from Anne Lamott's excellent Operating Instructions, which I highly recommend for first–time parents. Her non-precious irreverence is right up my alley.

I was recently thinking about how when my maternity leave was nearly up, a working mother I know told me that she found her return to work provided a welcome balance to her life. More than half a year into the game, I feel this to be true for me, how it sort of rounds out the corners of my existence in a way that being a stay-at-home mom wouldn't do. I am totally pro- full time parenting (it's all full time parenting, but you know what I mean), if that's what you choose. I'm psyched we were able to work it out for Mike, and it suits him well. But even though I miss my boy like crazy every day, even though I was a wreck when I first had to leave him, I find that I enjoy work and look forward to actually going in a way I never did when it was just me. It's hard to explain without sounding selfish, so if that's how I come across so be it. But beyond the necessity of my job for money reasons, I like that I get to use my brain, to have some time to think and operate in a way that's basically within my own sphere. I know HR is well taken care of, so I shift into work mode and get things done. It's very satisfying. When I work from home, I can never fully compartmentalize, and that's OK, that's part of what I like about it, but if it were every day my productivity would go down the tubes. And then I think about the alone time I spend with my pumpkin, like our Sundays when Mike works, and though he really is the best thing evah, the thought of spending 40 hours a week on nonstop parenting duty makes me appreciate Mike so much. It's the hardest job! I have it way easier, being the one who gets to leave. I don't have any guilt about it, but I acknowledge the exhilarating yet exhausting, never dull but occasionally boring, essential but totally thankless nature of the role of stay-at-home parent. And it is of utmost importance for me to make sure that Mike's heroism never goes unsung.

So if you know how I feel about this song (hint: I feel similarly about the contents of the Diaper Champ after a week's accumulation), then you know what it takes for me to post this to my very own blog. For you, Dada.

Yessir, That's My Baby

The weekend's over already? Dang. We spent half of it in the 'burbs with Mike's family, it was so nice for HR to be able to spend time with his Grandma and uncle and big-boy cousins. He's still not perfect at riding in the car, but he's gotten so much better - only one total meltdown out of about four round trips of varying length, so I'd say we're doing well. It requires a lot of distraction and endless "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" (and animal sounds made up on the fly - if HR asks, turtles say "turtle turtle" OK?) We do what we have to do. His sleeping has been back to crap, with up to four wakings per night over the past few.  I chalk the disintegration up to one night in the pack and play, and the next two following only one daytime nap instead of two. Tonight should be better. Unless there's another tooth coming in which case we're all effed. I'd say we're doing OK overall though, really working hard on cutting out the night nursing. It has finally sunk in that I'll never be able to do anything by the book with this kid, just rely on my intuition. It only took me nine months to get that, I guess I'm in the remedial class of mama. But it's helpful to keep mindful about staying in the moment combined with "this too shall pass." There's a lot of doubt ahead of me in the parenting abyss, but I'm in a pretty relaxed place right now in terms of how we're doing.

Did I mention that the boy is such a total joy to behold? I think I spend more time talking about ways that he isn't perfect, when that's the smallest part of the package. He amazes me every day, with his huge one-tooth smile, the way his hair has started to curl at his ears in that irresistible baby boy way, his new vocal exercises and total smitten-ness with certain books. I wonder if he'll ever tire of Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? If he never does, that's OK. I'll read it to him as many times as he wants. What a kid, though, really. I know a lot of extra-wonderful special ones, but we totally got the best one. I don't say it enough, but I'm always thinking it.

Regarding the Superbowl - I've said it before and it remains true: I only have room for one sport in my fanatical heart and that's baseball. I could give a fraction of a rat's ass about football. But I do care about pop culture, so I watched a bit of the game last night. I was rooting for the Packers if for no other reason than we have good friends who live in Green Bay and we've been there quite a few times, meaning more than twice. Which I think is a lot for someone who isn't actually from there. I missed the halftime show on purpose because I have a real problem with Fergie. She never did anything to me but exist, but isn't that bad enough? So I just avoid her and her terrible band at all costs. We're both happier that way. Anyway, I was really in it for the post-game Glee, but it turns out I was a lame exhausted mama and will have to be viewing the recorded version of that tonight. It's funny about Glee, you'd think it was something tailor made for me. I enjoy it, but it's not my favorite show. I wouldn't consider myself a Gleek. I think the character writing and storylines can be rather lazy and stereotype reliant, and I'm all for suspending disbelief but the sometimes I'm way too distracted by things like, how is there always a jazz band right there when you need them? And if you can afford those costumes, can't you find a way to get wheelchair kid to regionals? But it's got the inimitable Jane Lynch, Mike O'Malley has been a huge wonderful surprise as Kurt's dad, and I can't not watch the one show on TV with musical numbers.

Plus sometimes they go way out in left field and cover a song like this one, so props.



Put that in your Monday and smoke it.

Let Those Sooooouullls Glow!

Back to work today, and the office is sucking quagmire of need. I don't care about that, it was worth it to have the past two days at home, for sure. The weather that caused it all, maybe not so much, but what's done is done, eh?

It's not a good time for writing, so this is what's going to pass for an entry, but I can't send anyone weekend-ward without one last video. Heavens no! This is one of the greatest evah and it goes out to my girl who just became a Mama for the third time to a gorgeous girl-child. Kit-Kat, I can't hear this song without thinking of you.

Come to Pay Respects

13 days until pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training. 58 days until we leave for our little Florida jaunt. I know these countdowns are the antithesis to my SITM mantra, but there are times where the moment is not the best thing going. Which is all part of it, I know, I don't get to cut and run when the moment isn't to my liking. But when it applies to something so shallow and uncontrollable as the weather, I've decided I get a pass.

All's about as terrific as it gets home and baby-wise. We have a well-stocked kitchen and reliable heat and the best part--dudeness slept from 8-4:30, then back until 7:30 after a quick nursing for two nights in a row, which to me is perfect, really--it's just that what's keeping us inside is starting to make even a happy homebody like me go a little Jack Torrance. It really helps to know there's a beacon of good weather out there blinking at me, even if I can't quite see it.

So as I enjoy another work-from-home day, I'll confess that half my brainpower is dedicated to daydreaming of the ocean. That oughta keep me from going SOMETHING SOMETHING until I actually get there.

Here's this because, well, come on.

And by Slightly I Mean Totally

February you say? I've got nothing against February. Bring it on, little month. Surely winter is pounding down without mercy 'round these parts, never letting us forget who's boss, but the jump away from endless January gives me hope that despite it all we're one day closer to the spring, and 14 days closer to deeply discounted, extremely disgusting-yet-delicious boxes of Valentine's chocolates. What, you thought that was a pregnant thing? Silly. I am Stella's granddaughter in the chocolates respect, there's no getting around it.

At the heart of it, I agree that the snow is a bummer. As Scotty would say, "She can't take much more, sir!" Ain't nowhere to put this stuff. But I can't stop it, so I might as well embrace it, to the tune of getting to do my work from home today, and possibly tomorrow. A steady wardrobe of yoga pants, frequent play breaks with my sonny boy and no pumping. That's pretty close to perfect. Thinking about it, I will miss breastfeeding when it's over, but I will definitely not miss the pumping aspect. Maybe I won't get as much reading done, but I can live with that.

So anyway, I've got some work to get done, and I've also made a date with myself have a major plotting session for the novel so I can wrap it up sometime before the snow melts.

I heard this song this morning and as always it reminded me of the first dance I ever went to, and the first boy I ever slow-danced with. As Sir Elton's catalog goes, this isn't my favorite, but I can't hear it without being immediately transported to the GRCC circa 1980-hmmpfh and that's mighty powerful.



A lot of you know the boy in question, and it's a slightly mortifying story I may tell someday. Er, maybe. Wishing you all safeness and warmness and cuddly-ness against the elements, whatever they may be in your neck of the woods.