Check out this amusing essay from the Modern Love section of the Sunday Times, always interesting if somewhat fictional. I thought email relationships were confusing enough...how 'bout text messaging relationships?
Today was the usual "dress Nathan up for church" day. I love this little sweater vest with the golf cart I got for way too much money at Hartstrings before he was born. Mike and I love to golf, but I haven't picked up a club in a long time since I was pregnant all last summer. Last summer I spent a lot of time riding around the course in the cart watching Mike play, hoping the bumpy cart path would induce labor. No such luck. I haven't shared my labor story here yet, so here goes. The faint of heart might want to skip this part.
Nathan was two weeks past his due date, and I was induced on a Tuesday evening after being sent home that morning because there were no rooms available to induce me. Then I had 27 hours of labor, during which I had a lovely narcotic and an epidural that made my legs numb but did nothing to prevent me for feeling a baby's head pushing on my cervix. OUCH. Then when my cervix refused to cooperate and I spiked a nice fever they rushed me in for a C-section. Which SUCKED, btw. Scary as hell. Right after the nurse said "Don't worry, we've got ya" they dropped one of my numb legs right off the table. They strapped my arms down hanging out in the cross position. Nobody told me they were gonna do that. The duramorph made me nauseous and I kept telling the doctor I felt sick but they said don't worry until I barfed right there in my strapped down position. Yuk. I felt like I was having the pulp beat out of me, only with no pain. They counted really loud to make sure all the instruments were OUTSIDE MY BODY when they finished. I didn't get to really see my kid at all. They only good part was when Mike started crying and everyone laughed because Nathan peed on the neonatologist. I do not buy this business about how great a scheduled C-section is. Next time I have to choose between a scheduled C-section or trying the natural way again. I don't know which is worse. Thank goodness my mommy hormones have made me mostly forget how hellish the whole ordeal was. Ain't nature great?
I took this picture with my phone and I finally figured out that even though it looks like crap on the phone itself, when you email it to a computer it looks much better! I took Nathan to the park last week while dad was out of town, and he loved swinging but we only stayed about 10 minutes because it was 101 degrees and 90% humidity. Just standing there made me all sweaty.
My bed is a wonderful king size we bought when I got pregnant that I was very grateful for. I love my Crocill comforter.
We need a headboard but we haven't been able to find one to match our bedroom furniture. The headboard that went with our dresser's is now in one of our guestrooms.
Our house is FULL of mismatched furniture. Here is yet another example of a headboard from one set, a dresser from another, and random other cheap pieces.
My dresser is pretty nice but always layered in dust and clutter. I hate clutter, I don't know why I let things get that way. Since we moved I don't have places for everything. I need shelves. I need to paint. Notice there are no curtains in any of these rooms. I'm slacking on the decorating. These pictures make me realize how bland it all is.
My favorite pj's are a bit to skimpy to actually model for you, but here they are. I am a Victoria's Secret addict. I have TONS of pj's and lingerie and undies. I don't wear half of them. When my mother-in-law was helping me out after Nathan was born she blushed and commented while folding my unmentionables (and Mike's too...he likes fun boxers).
Here are Nathan's favorite pj's, along with his adorable Pooh crib and the Ocean Wonders aquarium he has now decided to play with every morning.
Here's his dresser too, another mismatched piece.
Again with the clutter. He used to have the most adorable nursery in the old house, but alas we had to leave it behind.
No. Time. Too. Blog. Work. Very. Busy.
I even skipped the gym today so I could get work done. I might go tonight if I get enough accomplished. I have a thing against working on my job after dinner. Occasionally I do it, but I really like to relax in the evenings. The kiddo didn't wake up till I got him up at 8am! this morning so I even worked before that.
In a vision of future scary things to come, I was concentrating hard on something I was writing on my computer when I heard a thunk and looked over to see my son pulling a bottle of Jack Daniels out of our liquor cabinet. I often let him roll around the living room while I work and he managed to open the cabinet and pull out a couple of bottles (which are at floor level and unlockable) before I noticed. Yikes!!! Guess we'll be moving the liquor to another storage place.
Heidi is old and blind and spent most of her time hiding from Pepper.
Bridget is fiesty and also avoids Pepper.
But unlike Pepper, Bridget got close enough to Nathan for him to grab and hug.
And Bridget gave French doggie kisses to Nathan until we stopped her. Nathan LOVED it.
1. Your specialty dinner 2. Food you ALWAYS have in the house 3. Favorite appliance
I would have to say my specialty dinner, the one I usually make when trying to impress company, is the classic French dish, Coq Au Vin...chicken in wine. I admit I didn't make it this week so I cheated and found a stock photo that looks vaguely like my version.
6 or so boneless skinless chicken breasts
1/4 c soy sauce
1 c full bodied red wine, like burgundy
1/4 c oil
3 T water
1 clove garlic (I used minced garlic in a jar)
1/4 T oregano
1 T brown sugar (I like a little more)
1 tsp ginger
Put chicken in a 9x13 pyrex dish and pour in mixed ingredients. Cover with foil and bake at 375 for one hour, turning chicken over halfway through. Voila!! I serve it over white rice with fresh green beans and crescent rolls on the side.
I always always always keep some sort of frozen pizza in the house. I LOVE frozen pizza. Stouffers, Ellios, Lean Cuisine, you name it.
I also ALWAYS keep a supply of cranberry juice for myself. I hate orange juice for breakfast, but I LOVE cranberry. Goes well with vodka too!
I don't have any fancy schmancy appliances by Cuisinart or Ronco or whatever, so I just picked my fridge because it supplies me with yummy food and I don't have to do any work to use it! It holds grocery lists and photos of people we love too!
She did give me permission to share her little speech with you, my small blog audience. So here you go:
The Art of Blogging
One day, I’m at work and I see the “envelope” pop up on my computer screen. Deep in the recesses of my personal folder, where I occasionally get emails from my family, who can’t ever track me down at home, I see an email from my sister. It said, “Check out my new blog”, with a clickable to www.waterwatereverywhere.blogspot.com.
My reaction to this news was twofold, surprise and concern—surprise, in that I didn’t expect my sister to begin such a strange quest and concern that since she recently moved, my sister was so lacking friends that she would resort to the Internet. After this short reaction, it occurred to me that I need to go back to work. And thus, I never looked my sister’s blog.
Until a few days later, when I received a rather frenzied call from my mother. Frantic calls from my mother are not out of the ordinary but require a certain amount of time and attention nevertheless. “Have you read Sarah’s blog?” she asked. “No”, I reply. “I’ve never read any blog, I don’t putz on the Internet and I haven’t had time to check out Sarah’s blog. Why?”
Between the emotional gibberish, I was able to comprehend that my dear, brilliant, but not-so-street-smart sister, had placed on her blog photos of her baby and her new house, while listing the city in which she lived. Anyone in his or her right mind would recognize the security threat that exists in this combination. Anyone but my 4.0, full college scholarship, chemical engineer sister.
So, I decide I must do my duty and assess her blog. Having never been on a blog, venturing to the great unknown blogspot.com, I found myself a bit apprehensive. To my dismay, I did indeed discover the lethal combination of personal info. As a new aunt and esteemed godmother, the protection of my nephew became paramount and I made the phone call to intercede. After some time, explaining my unfortunate trip to the Center for Missing and Exploited Children and my interaction with Blue Ridge Thunder, Bedford’s own nationally-recognized swat team protecting children from Internet child pornographers, I was able to get my sister to remove the picture of her home and her location. I would have preferred the removal of my beautiful nephew’s photos, but despite my expertise in lobbying difficult senators, attorney generals and governors, I reach only a compromise with my sister.
After that incident, I make a decision that blogs are outside the reality in which I live and I don’t return. Until the next hysterical phone call from my mother, incidentally shortly after Mother’s Day. The question began with, “How do you remember Mother’s Day in our house?” What a loaded question. I don’t answer because I don’t have time to answer. “Have you read Sarah’s blog?” Once again, “no”. As it turns out, my sister had accurately described how Mother’s Day went in our house each year. Each year, on Mother’s Day, some combination of persons would get in an argument. I suppose it’s because Mother’s Day falls on a Sunday. The problem with Sundays was that we always fought on the way to church. A bit ironic but someone was always late and someone was always mad about that. There were other factors too. Mother’s Day in our house . . .my sister had captured it, in full, vivid color, for all the world to see. Now, at the bottom of this pictography of our annual desecration of the holiday, she did place some very kind words about my mother, but I don’t think my mother ever got to them. If she did, she missed the point of the musing.
So I called my sister again. At this point, I lectured her not about security but about decency and airing our family laundry out in public. She laughed, clearly much more familiar with blogging, which I have come to learn is the act of placing anything that comes into one’s mind, onto a website for all the world to see, without a lot of editing. Using a typical lobbying ploy of pitting a usual ally against an opponent, I say, “What does Mike think about this?” Mike is her very quiet, very thoughtful husband who rarely says an unplanned word. She replies, “Oh, he has a blog too.” At this point, I realize I’ve been checkmated. I backtrack to find my mistake. Mike and Sarah had met on the web, in a “chat room.” How could I have forgotten. At this, I simply say that she should watch what she puts up there because it sends mom into a tizzy and I hang up the phone.
And then came father’s day and it all changed. My mother calls. Not frantic. She says, “have you read Sarah’s blog?” By this time, she knows the answer. My mother had been crying. Happy crying. You see, my dad died a few years ago of a sudden heart attack and Sarah had apparently taken the opportunity of Father’s Day to write a very sentimental tribute to him. So with that, I looked. And I cried. And then I found myself coming back for more.
Then it hit me. From deep thoughts about motherhood, to the latest book she reads, to very embarrassing family memories, this is a window to my sister’s soul. The only window she has ever really opened to me. Linguist Geoffrey Nunburg describes blogs as “personal websites that function as public diaries.” That sums it up. I realized that I never got to read my sister’s diary growing up, but now, it’s open, wide open, open to a few more people than I would prefer, but open nevertheless.
So I have learned to appreciate blogs. I have learned that my brother-in-law is a closet political satirist, which I would have never known. I have learned that a lot of people are really bored and like to comment on the mundane happenings in the lives of strangers. I’ve also learned that if I ever want to confess my deepest, darkest secrets, there’s an unknown audience waiting to comment. That said, it is highly unlikely I will engage in the art of blogging any time soon.
Last night hubs took me on a dream date, to the Nordstrom Anniversary sale. He let me buy not one, but TWO pair of shoes I didn't need. Nordstrom is by far the best place to buy shoes and this sale is righteous. I don't buy terribly expensive shoes ever, I only lust after them. I don't own a single pair of Kate Spade's or Stuart Weitzman's or Manolo Blahniks, despite my lust. I'm too frugal for that. I was in shoe heaven last night. The only thing better would have been if it had been not so busy and I had been waited on by a cute guy in a suit that said my feet were pretty. Nathan was very patient. Even hubs bought two pair of shoes. Here's a pic of us home after our shopping, way past his bedtime.
Wanna see something else that's kind of sick? My closet doesn't normally look like this but I pulled most of my shoes out of their little cubbies for your benefit. There are more shoes to the left and right of the shot.
Keep in mind I just donated about 20 more pair of shoes to the emergency shelter right before we moved. I don't guess that some battered wife is going to get much use out of my wedding shoes. The two pair in the front center were my purchases last night. Those purple sandals are REALLY practical. I have five pair of almost identical black leather loafers, and six pair of brown ones. Slight variations! I have two of the same pair of Sketchers sneakers, one in purple and one in red/gray. Neither are useful for actually doing sports. Oh my. It's an illness, but a fun one.
1. Something from the 80's you can't let go of
2l A picture of you from the 80's
3. A CD or movie you have from the 80's
First, I searched my whole house for something from the 80's and came up almost emptyhanded. I was a kid in the 80's, and I didn't save much. But I still have the dollhouse my parents built for me. I still have much of the furniture. It got pretty beat up in our last move, but I'm saving it in case we have a little girl someday. If we don't, I guess it will have to go.
I went through some old photos of me from the 80's and most of them are pretty scary. I can't believe how TALL I was! I was 5'4" in 5th grade. I'm now 5'6". Here's a picture from 1989. I was in 7th grade, I think, and hopelessly in love with Andrew Cook, a senior in high school.
Let me just say that CD's were just barely catching on in the 80's. My own personal CD collection does not start until 1992. So I found a couple of old cassette tapes from the late 80's. I loved both of these.
On a positive note, I visited a daycare center today that I loved! It was clean and spacious and full of happy kids and helpers. They had tons of fun activities, they provided diapers and food, and the security was great. Unfortunately they have a big waiting list for the infant room so Nathan couldn't go there till probably January when he would be old enough for the toddler room. I'm still going to look for someone to come into my home a few hours a day, but this may be a good backup.
We went over because they had lots of food and alcohol, as well as horseshoes for Mike to play. They rented a giant moonbounce but Nathan is just too little yet. There were a ton of other babies there too. After awhile our other neighbor came by with her three little boys. She is super nice and we chat often. She is a leader of my MOPS (mothers of preschoolers) group, a leader of our local Republican committee, and also a Premier Jewelry saleswoman, which I love. So we chatted awhile. Someone asked her how she handles three little boys and she chuckled and said she drinks alot.
Then the crazy neighbors (who weren't invited) came out into their back yard and blared their music louder than our party's music. You see, they are nuts because they have posted Private Property and No Trespassing signs all along the 20 ft. line of their back yard. These signs are staring us and our neighbors in the face. They have a sign stating that their tiny backyard is an official wildlife refuge. For what, rabbits?!! Squirrels?! Anyhow our neighbors complained about the Private Property signs and they replied "Oh, those aren't meant for you!" to which my neighbor replied "So why are they staring me in the face!"
Anyway another neighbor and his girlfriend joined the party and proceeded to tell us how sad he was when our two new houses were built but how he was glad it brought his property values up. Let's just say, he and his girlfriend had big mouths. They shared every bit of dirt about the neighborhood they could come up with. Then I went in to put Nathan to bed and Mike stayed out talking. As I was folding all the laundry that was strewn about our bed I heard the backdoor open and I heard Mike say, "Come on in, I'll give you the tour." I scrambled to throw all my clean underwear in the closet and shut the door and ran downstairs to give Mike a look like "What are you doing? My house is a mess!" Too late, he showed them everything as they "Oooh"ed and "Aaah"ed. I was embarressed because their house is possibly a quarter of the size of ours. A few minutes later we were all standing in the kitchen talking when a very drunk host of the party knocked on the backdoor and came in to join us. Somehow half the party managed to spread from my neighbor's house to mine. It went downhill very very fast as somehow my neighbors embarked upon a discussion of race relations. I kept my mouth clamped shut as I listened, horrified, as my neighbors tossed around the "N" word, debating which was worse, blacks or white trash. Aparently, all three of my neighbors are very racist. I couldn't believe they stood there and proudly admitted it. I mean, it's not as though I live in the sticks where rednecks are prevalent. I live in an extremely ethnically mixed, high tech suburb of Philadelphia. I love the fact that when I go to the park there are black kids, white kids, latino kids, asian kids, indian kids, you name it! I want Nathan to grow up with a great appreciation of all different cultures, but to be essentially colorblind. All night I tossed and turned, wondering if I should have said something to them. I wondered if I should have asked them not to use the "N" word in my house. I want to be friendly with my neighbors, but I also don't want my son hearing that kind of talk. What would you have done?
Ok, bring on the comments. I know you won't all agree with me and I am open to hearing your opinion as long as it is calm, intelligent, and free of bad words or personal attacks.
Today's topics: 1. Favorite framed picture 2. Magazine subscriptions 3. Household Pet Peeve
1. I had to pick two favorite framed pictures. The first is a watercolor of the admin building of the private high school I attended. The artist is really good and famous in our area and we knew his family well from school. I have several others of his paintings in my house but this one is my fav for sentimental reasons.
The second is, of course, our most recent family portrait. Not the most flattering pic of me in a bulky sweater but very nice overall. Time for a new one soon I think.
2. I confess, I am a recovering magazine addict. I used to fly approximately twice every week and I bought every magazine on the stand, every month. Now I turn airline miles into subscriptions, because that's all they're good for, so I get alot of magazines.
3. I don't have a ton of household pet peeves because I live in a brand new house, but this one was a biggie until last weekend when we started organizing. I know basements are supposed to be for storage, but I'm a very organized person and the fact that you can look into a room like this from the street is embarressing to me. This room has the makings of a future wonderful play room.
I made this patriotic dessert on Monday for our 'making new friends' dinner and it turned out perfectly. The bottom is a crushed pretzel crust, with a creamy vanilla middle and cherry pie filling on top. If it weren't for the calories, I would make fabulous new desserts all the time.
Now the book. Despite my earlier post whining bitterly about Jenny McCarthy and her stretchmark free belly, I checked out her new book from library, Baby Laughs. It was moderately funny, although not at all actually informative. This time around she has an illustrator who provided the book with stupid cartoons of Jenny for each chapter. Let me just say, the illustrator SUCKS. For moms who want a quick laugh, maybe it's worth the couple hours it took to read it, but maybe not.
And finally, the CD. My favorite band, The Foo Fighters, just released their new double album, In Your Honor, last week. One CD is all hard rockin kick butt music and the other CD is all acoustic. Both CDs are the best I have heard in a very very long time, although I prefer the rock one. As my friend says, they stick to their formula. But let me tell you, baby it works! They released Best of You as their first single, which isn't my first choice of songs on the album but it has grown on my fast. I love In Your Honor, but I always love the opening track of their CDs. The Last Song is great, as is No Way Back. I could go on and on, but I won't. Buy it!! You can't get a copy from a friend because it's copyright protected. That part sucks.