Everything bad happens in September. There are some good things about this month, but when I think of the most heinous occurrences in my life--either in my backyard or worldwide--the timing is impeccably September-y. For some reason, call it mental self-preservation, I forget about it every year until the month gets going and then, POW, the September curse. I've never considered myself to be superstitious, and I'm not that self-centered as to believe that the universe is out to get me personally, but I can't shake the bad vibes of the ninth month of the year. I have a long list to back this up, and it's studded with gems like my sister dying (1980) to that little matter of planes crashing in New York (2001) to the time when it kept on a-rainin' and the levees done broke (2005). We just found out that our really good friends and their infant were in a scary car crash this weekend. It could have been a much worse thing, of course, as aside from their car being smashed to kingdom come none of them are seriously injured. That's the bottom line. Still, it was awful for them and for many other people who happened to be on the highway when a driver came zooming up the wrong way.
In conclusion, fuck this month. Is it October yet?
Of course I can't leave on such a down note. And I can do lots of things, but skipping a month of the year is out of my skill set so I've got to stick it out and focus on the positive. Having such a cute baby around all the time helps in that respect. I have a rare after-work meeting and the possibility that he'll be in bed when I get home is sort of crushing, but we had some fun time this morning and I'm sure he'll give me a chipper feeding call in the dark wee hours. The point is, even in the Month of Doom the scale is tipped in happiness's favor.
Which brings me to the appropriately named blog du semaine: Bookshelves of Doom. Librarians rule, and Leila is a fierce example.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
Sophie the Giraffe to the Rescue
Another crazy Monday, coming off a decidedly mellow and enjoyable weekend. Thursday night we had Rosh Hashanah dinner with my in-laws in the burbs and it was a nice, relaxed occasion. As you may or may not have noticed I'm freakishly close with my family, and I want to give HR the opportunity to say the same so I'm happy for any chance we get to have him passed around by grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. I'm really looking forward to the winter holidays, not this year alone, but in the future, when the baby can raise hell with his little and big cousins. Xmas and Chanukah are for kids, as far as I'm concerned.
Friday I worked from home, and though I couldn't do this job full time from home for various reasons, I feel lucky to have that extra day to be in the presence of my little family, especially since it's usually the only day the three of us have together. My current project is trying my hand at writing a manual-- I'm adapting an already-written manual to make it specific to our office use so I'm not exactly starting from scratch, but it's a nice challenge all the same.
Saturday was a beautiful, autumn-y day and we met friends at a Greek Festival to chow down and enjoy each other's company. Oh man, Greek food is awesome. Festivals like that remind me of growing up, the way people come together for these community fundraising dealies and everyone works so hard. The old ladies serving the food in my town were mostly Italian and French-Canadian (as was the food), but that's just semantics. You know you're going to get the best of the authentic best for a steal. And it's always a very specific type of old lady making and serving the food. The one who served my salad went into the kitchen to chase down an olive because she was very concerned that I didn't get any, and another gossiped about the eating habits of some of the other attendees. They're strangers, but I know these ladies in a way that's very comforting. The festival ran all weekend and I gladly would have eaten every meal there. I may or may not have taken away a double order of baklava for that night's dinner, I'll let you decide.
Mike had to work later on and baby decided his bedtime would be an hour earlier for some reason, so I retired to my bed with a book, a glass of wine and the remote control. It was heaven. Annie Hall was on, followed by Beautiful Girls. I have a list of grievances with that second movie, but I like it in spite of itself because a) the soundtrack is stellar and (the Afghan Whigs are actually in the movie so automatic points) and b) I am nostalgic for both the mid-1990s time period as well as that small-town New England setting (even though it turns out it was filmed in Minnesota). There's something so romantic to me about going out to bars when it's cold outside and walking home in the snow. Ask me again how I feel about that last part in February. Anyway, what constitutes a great Saturday night for me has apparently changed significantly over the past year, but I'm not embarrassed to admit it.
Yesterday was my day alone with the babe, and it was pretty great, though he had a rough bedtime, crying for an hour like he hasn't done since he was a tiny newborn. I felt so bad for my sweet little moosh, and just walked and walked with him, that being the only thing that seemed to console him until he finally fell asleep. Mike and I are beginning to suspect that the joy of teething has begun. Oh, lard.
Hmm, I thought I had more to say, but no. Turns out that's all for now.
Friday I worked from home, and though I couldn't do this job full time from home for various reasons, I feel lucky to have that extra day to be in the presence of my little family, especially since it's usually the only day the three of us have together. My current project is trying my hand at writing a manual-- I'm adapting an already-written manual to make it specific to our office use so I'm not exactly starting from scratch, but it's a nice challenge all the same.
Saturday was a beautiful, autumn-y day and we met friends at a Greek Festival to chow down and enjoy each other's company. Oh man, Greek food is awesome. Festivals like that remind me of growing up, the way people come together for these community fundraising dealies and everyone works so hard. The old ladies serving the food in my town were mostly Italian and French-Canadian (as was the food), but that's just semantics. You know you're going to get the best of the authentic best for a steal. And it's always a very specific type of old lady making and serving the food. The one who served my salad went into the kitchen to chase down an olive because she was very concerned that I didn't get any, and another gossiped about the eating habits of some of the other attendees. They're strangers, but I know these ladies in a way that's very comforting. The festival ran all weekend and I gladly would have eaten every meal there. I may or may not have taken away a double order of baklava for that night's dinner, I'll let you decide.
Mike had to work later on and baby decided his bedtime would be an hour earlier for some reason, so I retired to my bed with a book, a glass of wine and the remote control. It was heaven. Annie Hall was on, followed by Beautiful Girls. I have a list of grievances with that second movie, but I like it in spite of itself because a) the soundtrack is stellar and (the Afghan Whigs are actually in the movie so automatic points) and b) I am nostalgic for both the mid-1990s time period as well as that small-town New England setting (even though it turns out it was filmed in Minnesota). There's something so romantic to me about going out to bars when it's cold outside and walking home in the snow. Ask me again how I feel about that last part in February. Anyway, what constitutes a great Saturday night for me has apparently changed significantly over the past year, but I'm not embarrassed to admit it.
Yesterday was my day alone with the babe, and it was pretty great, though he had a rough bedtime, crying for an hour like he hasn't done since he was a tiny newborn. I felt so bad for my sweet little moosh, and just walked and walked with him, that being the only thing that seemed to console him until he finally fell asleep. Mike and I are beginning to suspect that the joy of teething has begun. Oh, lard.
Hmm, I thought I had more to say, but no. Turns out that's all for now.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Sweet
In the spirit of the New Year, here's a list of that for which I am most thankful (beginning with the obvious, but never to be overlooked):
-My wonderful husband, gorgeous baby boy and amazing family and friends
-All of our continued health-- I'm so lucky to have an able body that almost exclusively nourishes for our son; our niece made it into the world with a bang when years ago it might not have been possible; I'm in my mid-thirties and still have two rip-roaring grandmothers
-A stable job with benefits that I enjoy and feel good about doing
-A roof over my head
-Food as sustenance that I don't take for granted
-Food as enjoyment and entertainment - it's a luxury to be able to wax poetic over a bowl of soup, or opt not to eat something if I don't like it. I'll include delicious alcohol and coffee here as well. Last fall I was pregnant and missed out on pumpkin beer season, but this year it's SO on. Of course my consumption is tempered by breastfeeding, but a little is better than none
-Music, which lights every day of my life, the love of which I think we've already passed on to the little nugget. He seems to especially enjoy Lionel Richie's "All Night Long." Sorry about that, baby (no I'm not)
-Reading. I've been hitting the books as hard as possible to make up for lost time, and reading to HR is one of my great joys. It's a bonus that he actually seems to pay attention
-TV, particularly the new season of Community about to drop. Whoever put that cast together, you are a genius
-Living in New England, especially in this season
-This life I get to live, which is part serendipitous circumstance, and part what we've made for ourselves. It's ordinary, sure, but still pretty fabulous when you stand back and give it a good look.
-My wonderful husband, gorgeous baby boy and amazing family and friends
-All of our continued health-- I'm so lucky to have an able body that almost exclusively nourishes for our son; our niece made it into the world with a bang when years ago it might not have been possible; I'm in my mid-thirties and still have two rip-roaring grandmothers
-A stable job with benefits that I enjoy and feel good about doing
-A roof over my head
-Food as sustenance that I don't take for granted
-Food as enjoyment and entertainment - it's a luxury to be able to wax poetic over a bowl of soup, or opt not to eat something if I don't like it. I'll include delicious alcohol and coffee here as well. Last fall I was pregnant and missed out on pumpkin beer season, but this year it's SO on. Of course my consumption is tempered by breastfeeding, but a little is better than none
-Music, which lights every day of my life, the love of which I think we've already passed on to the little nugget. He seems to especially enjoy Lionel Richie's "All Night Long." Sorry about that, baby (no I'm not)
-Reading. I've been hitting the books as hard as possible to make up for lost time, and reading to HR is one of my great joys. It's a bonus that he actually seems to pay attention
-TV, particularly the new season of Community about to drop. Whoever put that cast together, you are a genius
-Living in New England, especially in this season
-This life I get to live, which is part serendipitous circumstance, and part what we've made for ourselves. It's ordinary, sure, but still pretty fabulous when you stand back and give it a good look.
5770 was a doozy!
May the coming year bring only additions to the list.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
A Schtikle of a Post
Happy New Year to my chosen homies! Rosh Hashanah doesn't start until sundown tonight, but it's never too early to start handing out the good wishes as far as I'm concerned. I myself am not Jewish. I grew up Catholic but haven't ascribed to any religion since my late teens. There's a lot more to say on that subject but it's not for today. I married a secular/occasionally observant Jew, which makes my son half Jewish, and that means I get to co-opt the fun parts, for example: homemade brisket and latkes. I suppose this picking and choosing makes me no better than Dr. Tim Watley, but I figure if I can steer clear of telling jokes (I'm not a big fan of jokes anyway) it keeps me relatively harmless. Overall I'm in favor of any tradition that promotes thoughtful gratitude and family, and that's what the High Holidays are all about. And did I mention brisket?
This morning I saw an otherwise unremarkable-looking guy walking down Mass Ave. wearing a tri-cornered hat and eating a comically large muffin, and for some reason I feel like that set the tone for the coming year. Which is to say bananas, for better or worse.
L'shana tova.
This morning I saw an otherwise unremarkable-looking guy walking down Mass Ave. wearing a tri-cornered hat and eating a comically large muffin, and for some reason I feel like that set the tone for the coming year. Which is to say bananas, for better or worse.
L'shana tova.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Fall-ing Slowly
What a terrific long weekend. Our little buddy is busting out with more personality by the hour, and it was a gift to spend all that time with him, eating up his laugh and getting drunk on his sleepy cuddling. Except for a wonky Friday night he was a great sleeper--waking only once in the night to feed seems to be the norm now (fingers crossed)--and he was spoiled by a succession of maternal grandparents and aunts and uncles from Thursday through Monday. I got to read, relax, hang out with people I love, and enjoy the hell out of the first Manhattan I've had in over a year. Mike worked a bit, but not too much. We capped the whole thing off with grilling giant steaks at our friends' new home. And now I feel refreshed and ready to get down to business. Dear Fall, I'm officially ready for you. Impatient for you, actually. So come on, then!
Before I dive into my workpile, my pick for Blog of the Week is Cucina Nicolina. I can say a lot about this blogger because, even though we've never actually met, I've considered her a friend for a long time. Nicole is an incredible writer, a superstar runner, a passionate foodie and amazing cook. I have made her Guinness chocolate cake repeatedly and it has never failed me. Her blog is a little bit of everything, and a lot of magic.
Check it out, and have a fabulous (already!) Tuesday.
Before I dive into my workpile, my pick for Blog of the Week is Cucina Nicolina. I can say a lot about this blogger because, even though we've never actually met, I've considered her a friend for a long time. Nicole is an incredible writer, a superstar runner, a passionate foodie and amazing cook. I have made her Guinness chocolate cake repeatedly and it has never failed me. Her blog is a little bit of everything, and a lot of magic.
Check it out, and have a fabulous (already!) Tuesday.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
List-O-Mania
Lists! I love to make lists. Making lists keeps me sane. It just plain makes me happy, be they shopping lists, to-do lists, or packing lists. I especially get a thrill from making lists of things I love. So on the cusp of this long weekend (that's a list item in and of itself), here's a love list.
- When I was in RI with my in-laws, there was a fire pit. There were smores. But these weren't ordinary smores - they were smores made with peanut butter cups instead of a plain chocolate bar. WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME ABOUT HIS BEFORE? Wow.
- There was also an outdoor shower at this house, and I love me an outdoor shower. My buddy Kev wrote a facebook status update from his own vacation, remarking that he not only took an outdoor shower but he brought along a beer, and it was at night under the stars. That's a beautiful lesson in how to take something already wonderful and make it exponentially so. Kev and his bride know how to live - love item within a love item within a love item.
- Dancing shows, kid. I am partial to So You Think You Can Dance and America's Best Dance Crew. For some reason I never watched Dancing With the Stars, probably because the talent is so lopsided. Plus I don't need to be getting hooked on another show. But Margaret Cho is going to be on the upcoming season. Margaret Cho, guys. And Jennifer Grey - I'm very curious to see if she can rekindle her inner Baby-ness. Yeah Bristol Palin is going to be on it to, but that's what DVR is for.
- Usually by this time of the year I've snorted up the world's supply of Flonase and gone through a forest's worth of tissues due to seasonal allergies, but so far I haven't had so much as a sniffle. Did my allergies go away? Even if they're just delayed, I'll take it.
- Tonight my brother's band is playing in our 'hood and my friend has offered to stay with HR so both Mike and I can attend the show. Luckily they're going on first because I gots to get my sleep.
- Labor Day approaches which means the aforementioned long weekend. Which means nonstop baby time for me. Which also means a whisper of beloved Fall weather. Oh for conditions that might allow us to sleep with the windows open again and take the baby for a walk without him sweating through his onesie in five minutes. I'll be able to wear my Frye boots every day (some people can rock the boots all summer long. I am not one of those people). Don't even get me started on the bounty of apple cider donuts and roasted root vegetables.
- Ryan Adams. It's a good day for listening to Ryan Adams.
May the coming bunch of days bring sweets and joy and joyness to you all.
- When I was in RI with my in-laws, there was a fire pit. There were smores. But these weren't ordinary smores - they were smores made with peanut butter cups instead of a plain chocolate bar. WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME ABOUT HIS BEFORE? Wow.
- There was also an outdoor shower at this house, and I love me an outdoor shower. My buddy Kev wrote a facebook status update from his own vacation, remarking that he not only took an outdoor shower but he brought along a beer, and it was at night under the stars. That's a beautiful lesson in how to take something already wonderful and make it exponentially so. Kev and his bride know how to live - love item within a love item within a love item.
- Dancing shows, kid. I am partial to So You Think You Can Dance and America's Best Dance Crew. For some reason I never watched Dancing With the Stars, probably because the talent is so lopsided. Plus I don't need to be getting hooked on another show. But Margaret Cho is going to be on the upcoming season. Margaret Cho, guys. And Jennifer Grey - I'm very curious to see if she can rekindle her inner Baby-ness. Yeah Bristol Palin is going to be on it to, but that's what DVR is for.
- Usually by this time of the year I've snorted up the world's supply of Flonase and gone through a forest's worth of tissues due to seasonal allergies, but so far I haven't had so much as a sniffle. Did my allergies go away? Even if they're just delayed, I'll take it.
- Tonight my brother's band is playing in our 'hood and my friend has offered to stay with HR so both Mike and I can attend the show. Luckily they're going on first because I gots to get my sleep.
- Labor Day approaches which means the aforementioned long weekend. Which means nonstop baby time for me. Which also means a whisper of beloved Fall weather. Oh for conditions that might allow us to sleep with the windows open again and take the baby for a walk without him sweating through his onesie in five minutes. I'll be able to wear my Frye boots every day (some people can rock the boots all summer long. I am not one of those people). Don't even get me started on the bounty of apple cider donuts and roasted root vegetables.
- Ryan Adams. It's a good day for listening to Ryan Adams.
May the coming bunch of days bring sweets and joy and joyness to you all.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
I'll Very Nearly Miss Her
HR had his 4-month check-up today and he continues to be perfect. I feel very, very lucky to have such a healthy little dude. He's on the small end of the spectrum (10-15th percentile, whatever that means) but neither his dad nor I are particularly big 'uns so it makes sense. He's growing appropriately and to me he's a delicious marshmallow of a baby, finally starting to put on some adorable chub. I guess the recent milk influx is no coincidence. He was such a love during the exam, smiling and laughing at the nurse and doctor, only crying when he got his shots, and I think that was mainly because he was hungry anyway. My boy's a champ, what can I say.
We're having a wonderfully decent sleeping week, back to him waking only once to feed after a going down for a 7-8 hour chunk. I know better than to think this pattern is here for good, but I certainly enjoy it in the moment. I know I need to wean him from his swaddling soon. And I need to sleep train so he can put himself to sleep instead of me nursing and holding him to sleep like I do, it's for all of our own good. But I'm selfishly putting it off because I don't get home until 6:30 on weeknights and that hour-and-a-half before he goes to sleep is my close time with him. Arg. If I don't ever train him there are probably worse things... but I know I should. Arg, again. I was led to believe that parenting would be easy? And that there would be more pie involved? Come to think of it I don't think I've had any pie since I started this blog and it makes me feel like a fraud. We can't have that, now.
Because of this morning's appointment I'm off my pumping schedule, which means I probably won't have to deal with Sandra Lee. What am I talking about? OK, I'll explain the correlation. Because of where I work I get the cushiest pumping set-up - we have studio apartments on site and on any given day there's one that's unoccupied. I get privacy, A/C, a refrigerator and cable TV at my disposal while I'm doing my thing (another enormous job perk). I like to be efficient and get it done quickly, but pumping is boring so I turn on the TV so I can zone out for ten minutes. The Food Network was on the first time I turned on the TV in my current little station, so I just left it on because I like to watch food being made while I'm, er, making food. The Neelys are on during my morning pump (they've grown on me because they are so obviously in love) and Giada is my late-afternoon buddy (I've always liked her). The problem is the mid-afternoon abomination known as Sandra Lee and her various crimes against humanity through "recipes" and "decorating." It's so easy to dislike her and her awful-looking food and ridiculous tablescapes that watching her becomes its own kind of fun. I could change the channel, but why when I can gape and yell things at the TV like, "Sandra for the love of god there is no such effing thing as MELK!" and feel better about my own kitchen skills in comparison? I'm no chef, but at least I never dumped a jar of strawberry jam and a pork butt in a slow cooker and called it dinner. Today though I'll have to look elsewhere for my dose of culinary schadenfreude.
It's a tough life, but someone's got to live it.
We're having a wonderfully decent sleeping week, back to him waking only once to feed after a going down for a 7-8 hour chunk. I know better than to think this pattern is here for good, but I certainly enjoy it in the moment. I know I need to wean him from his swaddling soon. And I need to sleep train so he can put himself to sleep instead of me nursing and holding him to sleep like I do, it's for all of our own good. But I'm selfishly putting it off because I don't get home until 6:30 on weeknights and that hour-and-a-half before he goes to sleep is my close time with him. Arg. If I don't ever train him there are probably worse things... but I know I should. Arg, again. I was led to believe that parenting would be easy? And that there would be more pie involved? Come to think of it I don't think I've had any pie since I started this blog and it makes me feel like a fraud. We can't have that, now.
Because of this morning's appointment I'm off my pumping schedule, which means I probably won't have to deal with Sandra Lee. What am I talking about? OK, I'll explain the correlation. Because of where I work I get the cushiest pumping set-up - we have studio apartments on site and on any given day there's one that's unoccupied. I get privacy, A/C, a refrigerator and cable TV at my disposal while I'm doing my thing (another enormous job perk). I like to be efficient and get it done quickly, but pumping is boring so I turn on the TV so I can zone out for ten minutes. The Food Network was on the first time I turned on the TV in my current little station, so I just left it on because I like to watch food being made while I'm, er, making food. The Neelys are on during my morning pump (they've grown on me because they are so obviously in love) and Giada is my late-afternoon buddy (I've always liked her). The problem is the mid-afternoon abomination known as Sandra Lee and her various crimes against humanity through "recipes" and "decorating." It's so easy to dislike her and her awful-looking food and ridiculous tablescapes that watching her becomes its own kind of fun. I could change the channel, but why when I can gape and yell things at the TV like, "Sandra for the love of god there is no such effing thing as MELK!" and feel better about my own kitchen skills in comparison? I'm no chef, but at least I never dumped a jar of strawberry jam and a pork butt in a slow cooker and called it dinner. Today though I'll have to look elsewhere for my dose of culinary schadenfreude.
It's a tough life, but someone's got to live it.
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