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Around here

March 19th, 2010

I seem to have a thousand bloggable thoughts lately, and none of them ever make it to post.  I feel like I’m hardly even ever online anymore, which is bad considering that’s WHERE MY CLASSES ARE.  Who needs a master’s degree, anyway?  (ME! That’s who!) The last few days I feel a little like a cat let out of a cage, stretching and enjoying the sun.  SUN.  HERE IN MY BACKYARD.  Well, mostly in the backyard.  But you know what I mean.  This morning I went outside in my PJ’s, glasses, no makeup,  just me and my kid walking around smelling the air.

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We spent most of the afternoon outside, ignoring the fact that I should have been making a lasagna or vacuuming or doing school work.  Me contemplating how summer is going to be more fun, and HARDER this year.  He won’t be content to sit in the house and let me do what I have to do.  Now, all of a sudden, I’ll have to follow him as he runs around outside for hours.  And maybe read or do something if he decides to play in one place.  But I doubt I’ll be able to get school work done out there.  But I think I’m just going to enjoy it.  I haven’t played outside every day during the summer time since…well…I was about 14.

Then there’s the ever present financial crisis.  This month: check.  It’s here.  Just in time, I was starting to think we might be STABLE for once.  And the fact that I need to muster some hope.  I need to find ways to move forward, support my husband in moving forward, and just enjoy every day without worrying too much.  I think it’ll be easier if it’s sunny outside.

Then there’s the fact that the fire alarm just went off for some unknown reason.  37 minutes after my child was put in bed.  That’s is NOT AWESOME YO.

Then there’s the fact that I had a dream that I was spending the night somewhere with a friend from high school, we were sleeping in the same bed and I peed on her.  And it seemed like a pretty good dream.  Well, I remember being kind of worried what she would think when she woke up…but other than that it was a peaceful dream.  What is THAT about?

And then there’s the whole Frog Princess experience.  Bad.  Did I mention that I don’t enjoy Southern Culture?  I know.  I’m sorry.  Arrogant New Englander.  But what can you do?  I dislike Voodoo intensely (which I remember being as big a part of my life in South Carolina as it seemed to be in New Orleans in this movie) and the movie had weird ghosty things reminiscent of Demi’s movie Ghost.  Remember that end scene?  Yeah.  Camper was all wigged and I was like, “This was cute in the beginning but now the accents are GRATING ON ME.”

And also: this post on someone’s irritation over a rice cooker has inspired me to relay the following message:

Mother at the outlets who was feeding your two year old (or older) child thick as mud chocolate milk out of a bottle, I judged you.  HARSHLY.  I know it’s not fair, my kid and I don’t have perfect habits.  Granted.  But really?  Come on.

Thanks for letting me feel like I could say that.

Soooooo, what else.  I think that’s all.

Things are good, and bad.

But mostly good- if I really take stock.  So that’s not too bad, right?

Good Morning, Green Boots.

March 19th, 2010

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Uncovering

March 16th, 2010

We’re on our way towards Spring here in the Berkshires- and as the snow melts it leaves ice castles at the end of driveways and along the road- and while that sounds beautiful- I can assure you it is not.  The castles are covered in dirt and the snow has melted into a pooly marsh, filled with trash left behind by the high school kids walking home in the afternoons and dead animals that got hit last October and have laid under the snow for months.

I know, right?

I’m starting to think about Easter, and as I took our walk this morning (almost 50 degrees and sunny, thankyouverymuch) I saw a bunch of Halloween decorations in people’s yards.  The little tombstones and crosses that say “RIP” and have pictures of Dracula on them.  It must have snowed last October and they just got covered up.  Til now.

This is the second walk I’ve been able to take with Camper so far this year- the sidewalks are dirty, but clear, and I can’t wait for him to be able to run and play in the grass.  Right now it’s a bit too cold to get wet and muddy, but soon it’ll be perfect.  The green will come back, the trash will get picked up, the dead animals, too.  Soon it’ll be REALLY spring, and all the wintery grossness will go away.

I wish I could say I liked any part of winter- but you know what? I really don’t.  I’d be fine if fall faded into spring.  I wouldn’t even miss the snow, I don’t think.  Well, maybe on Christmas.  But that’s it.

I’ve been thinking about how my Dad will probably powerwash the house soon, all the dirt and grime running off the white siding into the grass.

Today I cleaned the dining room.  Washed all of my great-grandmother’s big wooden furniture (When she passed away my parents saved her dining room set, a hutch, a dry sink, a table and chairs.  I don’t think they’re anyone’s style here, but she loved them so much, and we still love her.) and the piano.  I filled up a bowl with warm water and Murphy’s Oil Soap and wiped them all down, then vacuumed away all the dust. I feel bad that I haven’t done it in so long but also nice that it’s clean now.  I thought of Grandma June while I did it, and wondered what she’d say if she could see my son.  I wonder if she’d close her eyes and just barely contain the happiness, if she’d cry when she hugged him like she used to when she hugged me.  Just because she loved me so much.

Soon it’ll be green outside again and I’ll pray that Summer will last forever.

NumNum NightNight.

March 15th, 2010

So, after a few weeks of a brief disturbance Camper is back to his cheerful self again.  That is, when he’s getting what he wants.  He’s starting to pitch a mini fit (I don’t think he knows how to pitch a whole fit, and usually his fits involve crying on my shoulder and hugging me) when he has to be taken away from something he wants to do.  But after 3 days of making him go to bed at bedtime he’s back to going through the routine and then snuggling into his bed and waving “Bye Bye” and just…going to sleep.

It’s fabulous.

But if there’s anything this kid has taught me it’s that he can change his mind at any time.  And it could be tomorrow.

Also, he’s starting to eat a few more things.  Not a lot, mind you, but a few.  I’m trying to get him sitting at the table like a big boy, and he seems to like it.  This of course, means I have to have everyone’s dinner ready by the time he eats- which is a little after 5 these days, but it’s worth it to see him try to knaw on a pork chop.  I’ll give him credit, he tries just about everything before rejecting it.  And he’s started to say, “Num.  Num!  Numnumnumnum.” Which I really like.

He’s actually just talking a lot more these days in general.

Is it bad that I let him eat banana with every meal because he requests it by name? Hmmmm….

We’re just in a whole new world with closed-mouth kisses every  half an hour (MwaaaaaAAA!) and lots of cuddles and a little boy who just likes to be part of things.  It’s a good little world.

And now, with that, I go to sleep.

Goodnight.

My snuggler.

March 11th, 2010

Yes. This is about birth control but other things, too.

March 11th, 2010

So.

I think things are finally settling down, a bit.

The last couple weeks have been a blur of playdates, book clubs, doctor’s appointments (for Camper and me), jury duty (I know, suck) and whatnot.

So let’s go back, shall we?

So yes.  In the spirit of full disclosure (I mean, I wrote about getting it) I totally got Mirena pulled a couple weeks ago.  I think it was making me crazy-o.  I read this post along with about a hundred others that identified some symptoms I’d been experiencing.  Of all the things I mentioned to the doctor, only two were “enough of a medical reason” to yank the thing, except for the fact that I’m starting to get freaked about not having periods anymore.  She said that ANY reason to want it out was enough.  So now we’re doing the whole “wait for the periods to come back and then figure out another plan” plan.  Which will include birth control.  (I guess my choices now are The Copper IUD, Yaz (cause it didn’t make me crazy) or an assortment of “barrier methods.” Dear God. Help us.)  Because I cannot get pregnant on the meds that I am on for my Colitis. The doctor actually said, “You have to be so careful.  This isn’t a situation in which you aren’t planning a baby and if you got pregnant it’ll be a happy surprise.  It could be very, very bad.”

Welcome to my colon, people.  Stupid colon.

In the meantime, I am feeling more emotionally sound.  I don’t think I’ve cried since I got it pulled- which now that I think about it- is pretty wow.  Today is John’s day off, lately AKA Erin’s day to freakityfreak out and cry about life and I haven’t felt that pressure building up yet.

It could be that I’ve gotten outside in some sunshine, that I had a wonderful two-day vacation from diapers and making chicken nuggets, that my husband did the dishes while I took a SUPER long shower…or any number of other things.  Or it could be that I no longer have a TEENY bit of hormones floating around my uterus in the form of a white plastic anchor.

Yeah.

SO.  WITH THAT SAID, this past weekend I left my husband and child and went to VA for my friend Emily’s wedding shower.  I’ve been to a LOT of wedding showers, and I’ve never felt so included and excited and had so much fun before.  E’s family put it together, and the food was good, the company was good, the games were imaginative and fun…the theme was “Herb Garden.”  Which was nice a springy, and each bridesmaid (or member of the wedding party…) had an herb leaf on her name tag.  I felt special just to be part of it, and Emily got tons of awesome swag.  And that plus a number of hours spent talking with her, just one on one, which is something we never get to do, was just so nice.  I told John when I got home that it was so good to sit and talk with an old friend for hours and realize that although a lot of our relationship might be reminiscing, our friendship now is based on who we are now, what we’re doing now and includes the people we love, now.  In short: it was so good.  And I can’t wait for the wedding.

I came home to my baby, who I am very glad to be bringing to the wedding next month (no more leaving him behind!) and to JURY DUTY.  Ta da.  So, I really wonder what they expect SAHM’s to do about their KIDS during Jury Duty.  I know they give ME and excuse for if I work, and will pay ME for days I miss from my WORK, but what if I don’t work and I then have to extend that to my husband?  Does my excuse card work for him?  Or…what?  In the end we just sat there for a couple hours and then went home, and I did have both my mom and John to chill with Camper…but what if?  Yeah.  I want to know, too.

So now life goes on.  Back to normalcy.  Whatever that is.

Tired

March 9th, 2010

It’s been awhile.  This past weekend I went away, without Camper, for the first time EVER.  I was away for about…34 hours?  And it took me days to prepare and then a couple days to recuperate.

Sad.

I went to VA to visit one of my Scranton girls who is getting married next month.  She had her wedding shower, and I have to say, it was one of the best showers I’ve ever been to.

I want to write so much about how much fun I had, how much Camper has grown and how it was so hard and also…easy…to leave him for a couple days…but I’m just

tired.

So tired.

I don’t even know why!

So perhaps tomorrow, no piano, no doctor’s appointments, no jury duty, no plane trips.  Maybe then I can really really tell you what’s up around here.

But now it’s time for Idol.  And Glee.

Until then, I leave you with a baby kiss.  Nothing better.

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The Lone Stooge.

March 3rd, 2010

What day is today?  Wednesday.  Yeah.

Today started off GREAT.  John didn’t go to work til noon.  We had a playdate in which Camper got to play with TWINS.  Which is cool because he burned TWICE THE ENERGY.  And I think he learned some new things.  This afternoon he started to say, “blocks” and “school.”  He also finally got it together enough to push himself forward on his little cart thinger. (As opposed to backwards. Only.)

Then a crapload of stuff happened in what seemed like 5 minutes, my Mother got called into work and I had to go to the doctor (bruising me blood taker nurse ow!) and being the GREAT SHARER like she is, my Mom went with me to help with Camper and then let me take her car which meant I dropped her off at work and then needed to pick her up before a meeting I had at 5:30, and in the meantime I went grocery shopping.

And then I texted John, put my phone down, picked it up, and it was dead.

And then I almost got my mom’s car stuck in the mud.

Then I sat down in my meeting after parking in a weird spot and running across the road and getting yelled at because of my penmanship and turned to the woman sitting next to me and said, “I feel like the lone stooge.”  And she just looked at me and turned away.

And then my night was complete.

Except that then I got home and while I was putting my baby to bed for an hour my Mom went to get me a toasty grinder.

Because I have excellent family.  And even though John has to work til LATE, she’s got my back, yo. (On a day when she got a parking citation AND got called into work AND missed the delivery of her NEW LAPTOP!)

Yo.

Oh, and my phone is ok now. Who knows what the crap happened.

Bleeding During a Pedicure is Usually Not a Good Sign. (But at least it was fun.)

February 26th, 2010

So after my weekly (haha, yeah right) breakdown yesterday crying about life and just freaking out in general about holycraplaundrydustingdishesyourdayoffwewon’tdoanythingfuntogether John was like, “Hey, why don’t you go get your toes done?” Yes, expensive. But less expensive than therapy. Or so I hear.

I asked my mother to come along and we went to yet ANOTHER place looking for a replacement for the great Spicy Nails we found in Utah when I was pregnant.

We sat down in the chairs and stuck our feet in the water and I thought I was going to DIE. It was like when you stick your foot in the bath and it hurts and itches at the same time and you hop around the bathroom all nekked and then have to stand there with your arms wrapped around yourself with the cool water on for a few. Except that I was not nekked, not alone, and the guy doing my nails looked at me like, “Wimp.” So I just closed my eyes and tried to bear it. Then I noticed a weird kind of bubble/soap globule floating on top of the water that looked mysteriously like the weird bubbles floating in the hot tub the night of the Victoria’s Secret Whirlpool Dermititus Incident. (Yeah. That landed me in the hospital with a fever, a rash and a doctor thinking I had shingles and hooking me up to IV’s when really I just needed some meds cause the hot tub was CONTAMINATED.) I tried not to think about it. The guy took my foot out of the water and started to do his thing, except that my foot looked like a bloated lobster.

So he added some cool water.

So after that it went ok, except for the fact that the whole process (Spa Pedicure? Anyone?) involved a few different kinds of scrubbing, clipping and moisturizing. At one point they put my feet in plastic bags full of searing hot wax while putting icy cold lotion on my calves, and I literally thought,

“Holy crap. I’m going to pee myself.”

Meanwhile my Mom is fine. Shes takes REALLY HOT baths, so the heat wasn’t getting to her.

They finally got my feet scrubbed and pruned and de-waxed and started the whole toe-nail painting process. I stared in wonder at my legs and felt like my feet were very, very clean. And then all of a sudden we were done and my mom and I looked at each other and were like, “That’s it?” To have all of that deliberation just to have it end like that. I don’t know what I was expecting at the end but it definitely would have included more hurting and more blood. (Oh yeah, did I tell you at one point my mother and I both saw blood coming out of my foot into the water? Huh? He didn’t say anything so neither did I.)

And while we were waiting for our toes to dry a woman from CANADA (she announced it very loudly) came in to get her eyebrows waxed. She had to sit on a kitchen stool as the guy kind of straddled her to get at her eyebrows. Eyebrows and lap dance in one, apparently. How awkward. I wonder if she tipped extra.

So yeah. I don’t think we’ll go back to that place. But they look pretty.

A Good Mother

February 24th, 2010

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To be called a “good mother” is perhaps one of the more powerful motivating factor in any mom’s life.  Even mothers who claim not to need that kind of validation do need it.  But it seems to me, lately, that the definition of “good mom” is less the opposite of “bad mom” and more in contradiction to the “lazy mom.”

So really, when we are told “You’re such a good mom!” because of something we’ve done with our children, it’s because we look proactive, we’re doing something caring or loving or energetic that is above and beyond the call  of duty to keep our children clean and fed and basically…away from mortal peril.  So on the days when we make handicrafts and go for walks and then have a long string of pictures to put up on Facebook or er…a blog…and we are called “A Good Mom,” it feels good.  Until the day we wake up and feel tired or trapped and turn on the TV and eat food out of cans all day and just mope.  Then, although we probably STILL played with our kids all day and gave them love and attention, the lack of something to hang on the fridge or a picture to put online or cheerful story about the day means that we are a Bad. Mom. Lazy. Mom.  And no one leaves a comment to that effect, but that’s what the lack of comments feels like.

I love it when people tell me, “You’re such a good mom!” in response to something I’ve done.  But the majority of days goes by where I’m just doing my thing, hoping I’m doing ok.  And the thing is, even on the days when my kid gets chicken nuggets for every meal and when I spend most of the day on the couch watching things on the DVR, or when I check out mentally and let someone else (i.e. John) handle the child’s needs I STILL know I’m a good mom.  But what can I put on Facebook to prove it?

Sidenote: not everything I put on Facebook is to that effect, mostly it’s to let people see how my child has grown, keep up with people I miss, show the cute things he does. But I’ll admit it, sometimes I brag.  And I want people to NOTICE WHAT I DO ALL DAY. You do the same thing, admit it.

When I went to school I got grades, I got feedback from professors, I was told that I had talent and that I was smart.  I was something special.  When I worked I got things done.  I accomplished goals and made people laugh.  People liked to be around me because we had fun.  I liked to be around people because they were fun.  I added something to the mix.  I wonder if this is why we’ve had a SAHMblogsplosion.  We’ve got a new generation of Moms that have been to school, been out in the workforce and are either still there WHILE being a full-time parent or have chosen to stay at home.  And we all need validation, dammit. (And just to clarify, I get plenty.  I’m just pondering.)

When I think about my Mom’s Mom, I don’t picture her as needing ANY kind of validation at all.  She raised all her children (a LOT of children) she cooked and cleaned and warned her grandchildren of the dangers of eating too many strawberries from the garden.  What made her so different from me?  Why could she go about her day, DAYS, and just do what needed to be done, enjoy what she enjoyed, make the choices that she could make and get on with it.  Did she obsess with other moms about which milk to use or the benefits of reading books with her children or about what kind of soap to chose?  I’m guessing she did not.  But maybe she did.  Maybe she received validation in ways I didn’t see or pay attention to.  Maybe she spent time wanting it.  Is it the internet that has allowed us to draw out every aspect of motherhood in deliberation, or is it this new generation of moms?  Or did my grandmothers do it too, we just don’t have an internet record of it, so it doesn’t seem like it actually happened?

I really wonder about this stuff.  And more than that, I wonder what Good Moms did on Lazy Mom days when they didn’t have DVRs.  Hmmmm…..