Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Monday, April 19, 2010
After you don’t blog for a while - say, 7 months and 18 days - it’s kinda hard to come back. I mean, I’ve got plenty to say. And some of it could be mildly entertaining. Since I play hermit, my friends and family ask me to blog so that they can know the babies are still alive. And yet, I demur.
I wonder, What warrants a return to the blogging after such a prolonged absence?
The answer: I got nothing. But here’s what passed through my mind today as bloggable.
- Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. Awesome, right? I mean, they clean a stain BY DISAPPEARING THEMSELVES. I do wonder what kind of time-space continuum altering technology they have patented to make that happen, but that just increases my admiration. Not so fast with the love, though. I found out today that those duplicitous magic erasers - while still disappearing to the naked eye - actually create a dull, perhaps non-removable film on polished wood. I really wish I had known this before using it all over my new-ish dining room table. Turns out all work and no-reading instructions (which clearly say not to use on polished wood) make for a fugly dining room table. Ugh.
- Still haven’t gotten a facebook account. I can feel myself losing relevance daily.
- Last weekend, I single-handedly unloaded and dispersed upon my yard over 1,200 pounds of mulch. Wasn’t it me who was so sorely-injured 6 1/2 years ago that I could not walk 2 blocks without major back and hip pain? Remember when I had to plan my trips to the bathroom because I couldn’t feel anything below my waist resulting in several embarrassing puddles on my stairs as I waited too long? Ain’t I the woman who came home from the hospital with a new baby - and a walker? Indeed, yes that was me. I myself find this feat of mulching to be a triumph of one woman’s will to heal - and a ton of therapeutic massage and chiropractic adjustment. I’m back to fighting form, friends. (Well, perhaps not fighting form.)
- Which brings me to my latest pet peeve. Since when did it become okay to insult folks by referencing mothers? In the past two weeks, I’ve heard folks disparagingly reference mom jeans, mom bodies, mom-flavored haggis. (Okay, maybe not the haggis, but it is coming I imagine.) And don’t even get me started on MILF...there could not be a more back asswards compliment. Wait, I think this could be my next post. Never mind.
- I’ve come to a decision. I am done looking at comments on the internets. It makes me doubt my strong pro-humanity stance. So...don’t comment. I won’t read it. Okay, that’s not true, we all know I’ll read it. And I'll probably respond. But make it a decent we’re-all-doing-the-best-we-can-in-this-world kind of comment or I’m blocking you. You know, when I get back to this blog next year.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
About a month ago, SRH and I passed our 12th wedding anniversary. To honor the day, SRH did a “12 things” about our marriage post. He then went on to say how hard this post was for him to write. Being the hyper-competitive person I am - which is to say I’m not at all competitive, but it seems to fit here - I immediately said I’d also write a 12 things post. And mine would be better.
So here goes.
12 Things About Our Marriage
We travel well together. No pit stops on a road trip. (Because any decent person would have peed before we left.) No annoying pre-planning what we’re going to do and see. We decide when we get there, and we don’t have any regrets.
Of course this perfect perspective on traveling was all mucked up when little people entered the picture...
Opposites attract: He’s tall. I’m short. He has adequate depth perception. I 've hit the garage with the car more times than I can count. He’s laid back. I’m...not. He is enamored of the taste/effect of Mt. Dew. Caffeine makes me sick. He regularly loses things. I have a uterus.
What a wacky pair.
We are eerily similar: We are mountains/hiking people vs. beaches/sunbathing people. We’re both homebodies. We both hate peppers and strawberry ice cream. We both think I’m right most of the time (right?), and we both know that we’ve bitten off more than we can chew with this second kid of ours.
Wherever he grows, I’m growing, too. And vice versa. Good to be on this journey together, then.
We read out loud to each other. People think this is weird. I don’t get that. We’re going on year 4 of rocking a baby to sleep, we gotta have something to do.
In 12 years of marriage, we have never lived further than 3 blocks from a Dairy Queen. I appreciate a partner that respects my priorities.
We’re cat people. Of course we don’t have any cats because Zane is deathly allergic, but cat people are cat people whether there are cats around or not.
We’re cat people.
We recently went to Zane’s Open House at school without him. Zane was feeling a bit poorly, but we didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see what’s happening in his classroom. I will admit it became a bit awkward when we had to start grabbing other kids to explain some of the stuff in the room, but it all worked out.
We will go on wild goose chases together.
The day I wanted 10 boxes of lime green dye? He went with me to 4 Jo-Ann Fabrics and 2 Michael’s craft stores.
Need Tomy trains for a four year old? You better believe we went to every train store in the city before buying them online from a Japanese company. (holy shipping and handling charges)
He went with me to the other school. The lottery school. The school Zane didn’t get into even though it’s only 3 blocks away from our house. And brand new. And goes all the way to 8th grade. Even though we both knew the visit was pointless. He still went with me and advocated for a spot for our child. And not because he wanted to. Because I needed to.
He keeps up better with my friends than I do. He facebooks. He occasionally emails my friends. He answers our phone and actually chats.
If not for him, I might be friendless and woefully unhip to the whole social media phenomenon.
We have been together for 14 of the 17 years of our adult life. Most of my dearest friends never even knew me without him.
Of course. The babies. The amazing, wonderful, awe-inspiring children that make us better people.
Happy Anniversary, love. Can’t wait to see what’s next!
Monday, August 31, 2009
I love school! - Zane, after his first day of kindergarten today
Saturday, August 15, 2009
So, let’s get to it, shall we?
They said they would take good care of them. They said they were happy to help us out. They even said that our skittish Lenny (who was always that nervous kind of skinny cat that never let folks touch him) had become a fat lapcat. Whatever their story, here we are 6 years later, and our beloved Lenny is dead.
I’m sure it was something my mother-in-law did.
I jest. I jest.
So, we’re very sad here in CASA RH. Well, two of the four of us are sad. The little people have no recollection of cats in this house. But I do, and my heart is heavy today.
I say it was fine, but the stylists (there were two because now I have two kids and we made simultaneous appointments) actually kind of honked me off during the hair cut. In what I’m sure was supposed to be helpful advice-giving, they said that I needed to start “doing” her hair up in ponytails and such. To get her used to it.
Oh, and I should leave on the conditioner after washing her hair. And I shouldn’t wash it more than 2 times per week so that it doesn’t get frizzy. And I should use some sort of moisturizing product to tame the frizzies as well. (And since we’re being ever so helpful, I should probably leave the conditioner on Zane’s hair, too.)
Exhibit A is below. Eily’s hair is about 3 inches long when you straighten out the curls. It is very rarely frizzy and never dry. She looked like she was sucking on a lemon the entire time they were putting their little rubber bands in it, and she kept trying to pull the pig tails out after they had them in.
She’s a baby for goodness sakes. Can we not - at 14 months - start with the “girls should look this way” bullshit?
That being said, those darn pigtails were so cute that Zane kept asking me to put her hair in the “tails” today. Oy vey.
But I don’t really care about the fraternity anymore. I rarely think of it, truth be told.
But through the magic of Facebook, it’s popped its head back into our lives. Now, I’m not on Facebook, being a person who doesn’t care about people in general - and specifically those from my past. But SRH is on - and he totally sold me out today.
They wanted updated info, but since I have dropped off their email list, they only contacted SRH. Who promptly gave them my email and address! And not even my crappy, secondary gmail account, but my real-deal, work email.
First one of the marriage cats dies. Now my partner has sold me out. This relationship can’t last that much longer, I think.
(On the other hand, I don’t relish the idea of starting off my match.com ad with “must love kids”, so perhaps I’ll keep him around.)
He’s completely looking forward to it. I feel a little sick - and yes a little giddy, too - every time I think of it.
We’ll see how we all do...
Friday, August 07, 2009
I’ve been on the lookout for new music. I’m getting tired of my 1,347 iPod tunes, but I’m too pressed for time to spend it wading through radio drivel. We listened to the radio while on vacation and heard the same 5 songs over and over. And while I didn’t hate the the Nelly Furtado/James Morrison song the first 67 times, it doesn’t bear up well under repetition, and I wouldn’t consider buying it. And I hear that Rob Thomas has a new song as well.
I’ve become seasoned...mature..an npr listener...uncool...
But I’m prattling on to avoid my latest descent into uncoolness. I’ve been desperate, friends. I’m wanting new music but have avoided the radio, ignored my iTunes genius recommendations, and scoffed at Pandora’s pairings.
But I’ve done it. I’ve found a new set of tunes that keep my toes a-tappin’ and makes me look forward to being in the car. It’s...The Ting Tings.
And I know that they were kind of cool when they hit the scene on an iPod commercial well over a year ago. But I’m a bit slow to catch on. Truth be told, I never saw the commercial itself.
Nope, you know where I discovered The Ting Tings? On Yo Gabba Gabba.
Yep, that’s right. I heard my new, fun music on a preschooler’s show - looked up those fresh, hip, modern kids singing a catchy tune - and was hooked.
I have since bought the majority of their stuff on iTunes - including their live stuff, but my song of the moment is below.
I’m such a dork.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
That’s right. Eily is allergic to strawberries.
Take away my soymilk, my pizza, my chinese food. Get rid of yogurt, bagels and tofutti cream cheese, and other delicious snacks! Begone fresh pasta and real butter! Get thee behind me Dairy Queen treats – or any other ice-cream for that matter. So long most crackers, breads, rolls, muffins, cakes, and pies.
Gladly I have done this. Gotten rid of dairy, egg, soy, and rice.
But what I had left was a nightly snack of strawberries and blueberries to satisfy a craving for the sweet and wholesome– and now it’s gone.
To explain: Eily had strawberries for a snack the other evening and stopped eating them after about three bites. She soon had hives on her chest and was “splotchy” (that’s a fancy allergy term) in the bathtub later.
Damn and double damn.
That’s why I don’t blog anymore, friends. Because I’m hungry. I’m hungry and tired – and now I gots no strawberries for comfort.
Feel free to send dairy-free, soy-free, egg-free, peanut-free, tree nut-free snacks in an effort to revive this blog.