evading mwomdom

New Life, NEW BLOG

2010-10-24T22:06:00.003-05:00

OBV, unless I had the longest gestation in the history of humankind, I've since had my baby. And NEW BABY means new everything--new challenges, new joys, and, in my case, NEW BLOG.

All the old posts from evadingmwom have been moved over to my new blog, thesuburbanprairie.blogspot.com . Same blogs as before, NEW LIFE being breathed into it all.

Don't worry; I'm still trying to evade mwom. Come on over!

Waiting Over Here For Life to Begin

2010-06-30T09:03:00.002-05:00

I just poured myself a cup of coffee and I am sitting at the computer sniffing it like a maniac. I'm not going to drink it, of course--are you kidding? The raspberry pie I made last night gives me heartburn; I'm not ready for my cup of acid yet. Not while my stomach is squished up under my rib cage thanks to my expanded uterus. Dude, I have problems with acid reflux when I'm not pregnant. Def not about to do it now.

But I'm still sitting here, reenacting Easter 2007 when I gave up coffee for Lent and would pacify myself by MAKING A POT OF COFFEE and pouring a cup and SNIFF-DRINKING IT. I think there's a lot to be said for the smell of coffee more than the physical jolt. I missed holding a warm cup of coffee smell and I miss it still.

What do I look forward to more, drinking a glass of wine, or drinking a cup of coffee? Probably the wine, since the coffee will be more of a necessity once we've got two little girls in the house, needing diapers changed at 5am and not napping until noon-thirty.

Kiddo is setting up her stuffed puppy Violet at her little table and unloading her grocery cart, serving Violet wooden pizza, a carrot, half a lemon, and a cucumber. I am checking the public library website to see if there is a story time this morning. And most of all, I am paused in a period of waiting like I have never been before: never had to wait and anticipate, EVERY DAY, whether or not Newbie's ready to meet me today.

More Pregnant Than I Have Ever Been

2010-06-22T13:29:00.002-05:00

And yes, I am only 36 weeks along today.

Kiddo was born when I was 35 weeks and 6 days pregnant, and while Vee and I still marvel over how FEW health complications she had (lungs were completely developed, no heart problems, etc), with the exception of baby jaundice, I am grateful that I am more pregnant than I have ever been with Newbie.

It's nice to have that fear off the table. Every day, she grows a little more (AND I GROW A LITTLE MORE. GOOD NIGHT. I thought this POUND A WEEK crap was supposed to stop back in the second trimester. Why have I gained 3 pounds in 5 days?) and gets a little more ready to meet us. I still want another week out of her, and then she's on her own timetable. Who am I kidding? She's always on her own timetable. Kiddo was on her own timetable.

Anyway. Every time I go to the bathroom, I expect to see my mucous plug (THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID MUCOUS PLUG). And every time I get constipated (THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID CONSTIPATED), I think it's the beginning of contractions. I am on such HIGH ALERT for labor to begin that I really need to keep myself occupied with other things.

Yet! Since Kiddo came so early, I started "preparing" for Newbie to arrive this early. Hey, when Kiddo showed up, we had like ZERO things done. No dresser, no crib, no co-sleeper set up, hadn't washed her baby clothes, LIKE NOTHING. Newbie, on the other hand, not only has all of these things completed, but I'VE GOT MY HOSPITAL BAG PACKED. There is NOTHING LEFT FOR ME TO DO.

Anyone have any ideas?

It's the Final Countdown

2010-06-16T09:36:00.007-05:00

I'm out of Macro-Hell, and into the final weeks wait for little bambina #2. Which is oddly like Macro-Hell because I have slid back into first-trimester-style nausea in the mornings and before going to bed. I checked with one of the midwives and she said, "Yeah, that will happen sometimes when you got nauseous in your first trimester--it comes back in the third." Raw deal!

I'm in week 35, which was the week that Kiddo was born. I genuinely hope that Newbie does not decide to show up this week, or really next week either, but I can guaran-damn-tee you that if she happens to shoot out those hormones to activate labor ON JUNE 29 (the day I turn 37 weeks), I will not complain.

Why? SORRY, MOM, but I actually don't have a deep desire to go all the way to 40 weeks. If I do, THAT'S NEWBIE'S CALL, but there's nothing in me that "needs" to have a full-term full-term pregnancy. 37 weeks is full-term and CONSIDERING THAT EVERY ONE OF THE 30 POUNDS I HAVE GAINED is centered SOLELY on my tummy, I don't really need the bonus 2 pounds that Newbie would gain between weeks 37-40.

Dudes, I'm not about to be like, "So, it is just SO UNFORTUNATE that I haven't gained weight anywhere else! OMG, poor me! My feet haven't swelled up and my face hasn't gotten fat and my thighs look the same as they did before!" Because ALL OF THOSE THINGS HAPPENED WITH KIDDO, so I've BEEN THERE. It happens.

But it's NOT happening with Newbie. Literally all of my weight is centered around her, which means I have THAT STOMACH. And it means that by the end of the day, my body is so exhausted with carrying all that extra weight in one location that I have to support my tummy with a pillow, lie on my side, lean back to spread the weight out. It actually sucks a lot.

Not to mention the fact that I DIDN'T GET THE PREGNANCY BREASTS/BUTT. It's NOT FAIR! Last time I was fillin' out them jeans and had CLEAVAGE for the first time. Dude, I felt like a pregnant goddess. For the first time in my life, I felt FERTILE AND CURVY.

Now?

I look like a corny adolescent who (cue the sing-song) SWALLOWED A WATERMELON.

Ugh. Why do people even SAY that phrase? Like it's POSSIBLE? Or flattering? There was this chick at the thrift store who said it to me, and then told me that she looked exactly the same when she was pregnant, and "I went home from the hospital wearing a mini skirt. All the nurses hated me."

I was like, "Ummmm, A.) I don't even own a mini skirt, B.) I DEF would not be packing it to wear home, and C.) Trying to inspire jealousy in the nurses who brought you Colace and helped change your postpartum pads is JUST CRUEL."

So anyway, my tummy is massive and rocking, literally, all hours of the day since Newbie is A MOVER AND A SHAKER, and I can't wait to meet her. And have her rocking in my arms (as Kiddo says when I ask her, "What do you do with a baby?" and she says, "Hold her and rock her." It's precious. I only create precious children) and TAKE A LOAD OFF!

Macro-HELL

2010-02-04T20:16:00.005-06:00

I'm not "preg-nausea" sick any more, but DUDE, you should have SEEN me at this time last week! Vee had to stay home from work for TWO DAYS because I couldn't handle life!

Why?

FUCKING MACROBID!

Do you know what Macrobid is? While I have ABSOLUTELY NO SHAME about saying that I had to go on an antibiotic for an EXTREMELY COMMON PREGNANCY-RELATED CONDITION that I have ONLY HAD ONE OTHER TIME BEFORE (when I was pregnant with Kiddo), I understand not everyone wants to know about, you know, THAT KIND OF STUFF. So if you want to know what it treats, CLICK HERE.

Hey, no one said it was easy on a girl. For what it's worth, I NEVER HAVE ANY SYMPTOMS, so I have doubted my diagnosis both times, but I made a night nurse double-check my folder and she claimed the bacteria was present and accounted for, so I took my meds.

Because of my acid reflux, I was like, "Dudes, can I get a liquid suspension instead of a pill?" because when I had to pill it back in '07, it was THE ROUGHEST TEN DAYS OF MY LIFE. I would seriously cry and gag twice a day when I had to take those horse suckers. I am a girl who chews Flintstones vitamins, ok? Not. Pill. Friendly. So they called one in, and when Vee came home with it, he told me, dazedly, that it cost $100. I was like A HUNDRED DOLLARS? Our co-pay is $10!

No, man, our co-pay is USUALLY $10 and can go as high as $100. When you're taking a medication that normally costs $550 out of pocket, I guess you should thank God for insurance. And besides, I was like I DESERVE IT! No pills for me!

The sucky thing was that I was supposed to drink 2 teaspoons of this neon yellow liquid FOUR times a day now. For seven days. Tevs, doggy, it was still better than choking down pills! It was flavored like a really sick "banana" and within 30 minutes of drinking it, my pee came out THE EXACT SAME NEON YELLOW. Didn't want to know that? DUDE, I'M PREGNANT! If the worst thing you're reading is that my pee was neon yellow, you are going to want to STAY AWAY as I get closer to delivery, because the birth story for Kiddo is going to be NOTHING in comparison to the detail you're going to get with Newbie.

So: neon yellow pee. Not the coolest side effect in the world, but not too bad, all things considered. I'm gulping down my doses dutifully through five and a half days, when I wake up feeling like my lungs are compressed, I have a cough, a headache, and all of my muscles feel like I just moved out of a second story apartment in Iowa City. Vee had already left for work, so I got Kiddo up and changed her diaper, and then immediately went to the bathroom.

WHERE I VOMITED.

Four times. NEON YELLOW. With Kiddo sobbing beside me as, between heaves, I tried to implore her to "go find Kitty, go find Elmo."

It was the most offensive thing in my life. I NEVER, NEVER vomited during my first pregnancy, and I had been SOLIDLY over my nausea for three weeks. I WAS FIFTEEN WEEKS ALONG! Too late to vomit for the first time! My first instinct was to blame the antibiotic. So I did. And got out the good old list of side effects, WHICH I WAS DISPLAYING (vomit, headache, muscle ache, lung compression). My call to the nurse hotline resulted in being told I needed to finish the course, which made me start crying.

Friends, I am not lying to you when I tell you this: within 30 minutes of the next nine doses, I felt my symptoms kick into full gear. As they would start to wear off after about 4-5 hours, it was time for another dose which started the cycle again.

I felt like I was dying. It was worse than my nausea by FAR. Vee stayed home from work those two days and DAMN GOOD THING because I couldn't function.

I took my final dose last Thursday at 11am. The next morning, I woke up with NO SYMPTOMS AND NO PAIN, and Googled Macrobid to find tons of hell-lists of similar-symptomed and pained individuals reporting their experience.

What do I say? STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MACROBID, especially if you're pregnant, and even if you've taken it before with no side effects. I took a ten day course back in 07 with no "problems" other than nausea and was five and a half days in before my hellstorm. THERE ARE OTHER DRUGS; TREAT IT ANOTHER WAY!

I know I will!

Can I Get a "Plus One"?

2010-01-15T11:13:00.001-06:00

So I’ve been conspicuously silent. “Conspicuous?” you’re saying to yourself, “More like LAZY AND WITHOUT JUST CAUSE! Fie upon thee, fickle blogger!”

CONSPICUOUS, I say unto you!

For a REASON! Just cause! Why’s that?

Here’s a hint: I was NAUSEATED FOR SIX WEEKS STRAIGHT. And when I say STRAIGHT, I mean “Able to avoid feeling sick until within 10 minutes of Vee’s arrival home every work day, and then literally spending the evening staring into space, unable to comprehend doing anything as taxing as reading, watching TV, or eating.”

No, seriously, dude, I have never been smacked in the face with such STUPID nausea in my life. Not the morning after 8 red-cup-size servings of champagne at Shannon’s 21st birthday party (DUDE, IT WAS THE WORST HANGOVER IN THE WORLD! Wine hangovers are NOTHING compared to champagne hangovers!). Not when I crowed about avoiding the stomach flu sweeping UIowa the winter of ’03 only to REALIZE I DRUG IT HOME WITH ME FOR CHRISTMAS BREAK and spent the first four days home huddled under blankets in my old twin-size bed, freezing and sweating and vomming.

THIS NAUSEA! How could it be so CONTROLLED?! How could I COMMAND IT TO WAIT FOR VEE’S ARRIVAL yet be unable to COMMAND IT TO STOP?

It took me out of the game. And by “the game,” I mean the Life Game. You sad I wasn’t blogging? You didn’t see me in EVERYDAY LIFE. You think I was emailing ANYONE? You think I was calling ANYONE? You think Kiddo got to go ANYWHERE? Keep in mind this was during the HOLIDAZE. You think I was A GRACIOUS HOST at Thanksgiving or CHRISTMAS? I tried, but Vee had to step up his game and make sure everyone had, you know, enough toilet paper. I was busy spacing out on the couch and accepting pats of congratulations.

CONGRATULATIONS!

Because VEE AND I ARE EXPECTING KIDDOKABIDDO’S LITTLE SIBLING IN JULY!

Boom shaka-laka!

We’ve been telling people we know in real life as we see them, but today we finally got the superstitious good news of A HEARTBEAT!

Newbie was squirming like crazy in there and the little heart was cranking away healthily. And my body has def grown enough to accommodate him/her. HIM/HER. Reason 29 why we will probably find out this kiddo’s sex because I LIKE TO CALL MY CHILD BY NAME. And not IT-ify Newbie.

Come on, moms and dads, tell me about how you didn’t want to find out because “it’s the only true surprise you have in your life.” (direct quote from my mom, who bore us kids during the age when ULTRASOUNDS FOR SEX DID NOT EXIST)

I was once like you. No, I mean REALLY, I WAS ONCE LIKE YOU. I was SO SASSY and RIDICULOUSLY CONFIDENT that I felt SORRY for people who did find out. I was like, “Dude, it is totally like sneaking a look at your Christmas presents ahead of time. RUIN YOUR OWN SURPRISE, but I ain’t peekin!” And then I got pregnant with Kiddo. And I wanted to know who I was talking to.

But ANYWAY! TOTAL DIGRESSION since we’re not even ON THAT for another 6 weeks.

The point is: I’m pregnant. In my second trimester. And no longer nauseated every day. And now YOU know why I’ve been quiet on the blog front.

Snowed In

2009-12-10T13:01:00.002-06:00

SORRY! SORRY! I'm buried under a world of final exams (my busy time at work), holiday prep and post, and, well, literally under snow.

10-12" shut our city down for two straight days. No, really. I went to the post office with the Kid on Monday around noon and I just got back from my first excursion since. Which was to the grocery store.

We got blizzard-blasted with massive gusts of wind. I LOVE YOU, PRAIRIE! No, really, I DO! It was like being on the moon when I looked outside. All around our shed, the wind had blown all of that snow OFF THE GROUND so you could see huge swathes of grass. But our porch?

BOOM! Taller than the Kid!

So we've been hiding out in the house and quietly going insane. It's not like I am out and arout that often, but NOT BEING ABLE TO LEAVE is maddening. Plus Vee was home with us both days, and our moroseness fed each other's discontent. But the Kiddo was DELIGHTED to have Daddy home!

So maybe there is some component of fate working in my life, because our fridge/freezer decided last night to stop, uh, fridging and freezing our food. Which REALLY sucks, because we just got a shipment of Omaha steaks & stuff from Vee's parents. YEE-IKES!

Always resourceful and EVER MINDFUL OF OUR SURROUNDINGS, I stuffed the goods OUTSIDE IN OUR SNOWBANK and our new fridge/freezer is serving us well. Which is a good thing since WE'RE NOT GETTING SOMEONE OUT HERE TO LOOK AT IT UNTIL WEDNESDAY. Like SIX DAYS FROM NOW Wednesday.

I love negative temperatures!

Mooning! Mooning!

2009-11-23T16:33:00.003-06:00

(SPOILERS AHEAD!)

Who saw Twilight: New Moon this weekend?

ME!

I went to the new CINEDINE experience in town, which was terribly exciting. Cine! And Dine! The noon showing of New Moon didn't have the option to get regular seating, and since I wasn't really interested in the whole VIP-Reserved section (which is where you can have COCKTAILS) since it was, uh, noon, I opted for the Cinedine seats.

Which were OK, you know. The part that blew my mind the most was the fact that you get ASSIGNED SEATS! Assigned seats! In a movie theater! And I was pretty grateful since I didn't want to have to fend off Twi-teens who were waiting there since last year. But I wound up sitting next to some anyway.

The chow was ok (I tried some SW quesadillas or something, and they were tevs city), but the dude delivering the food SPILLED MY FRIEND'S DRINK ALL OVER and so we missed the whole opening credits/scene since they were apologizing left, right, and center and mopping up that Coke.

But it was fine--it's not like I needed to see the dumb grandma-dream-sequence anyway.

The corniness:

Bella + Edward "running through the forest joyfully once Bella gets changed" in Alice's premonition (omFg, the theater broke out laughing because IT WAS SO DUMB!)
The gratuituous airbrushed-lower-pelvis shot of Edward before he was going to expose his skin to the sunlight (DUDE, for REAL, we all saw you wearing pants and they were NOT SLUNG THAT LOW! I mean, I can appreciate a good mostly-nude-abdomen-shot as much as the next girl, but NOT WHEN IT WAS OBVIOUSLY FAUXED FOR THE SHOCK EFFECT)
Well, basically every time Kristen Stewart spoke as Bella. I know SHE'S CONFLICTED AND ALL, but I am sooooooooo sick of hearing every.single.sentence split into. Two dramatic halves.

The goodness:

The fact that Kristen Stewart's "Can I just ask for one thing....kiss me?" eyebrow lift was not as noticeable as it was in the trailers (omG, can I shoot her in the face yet? THE DUMBEST ACTING EVER! And we're stuck with her for 2 more movies!)
Edward's wardrobe stylist. Good GOD, I LOVE YOU! WHY COULDN'T EVERY 17 YEAR OLD BOY DRESS AS HOT AS EDWARD WHEN I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL!
Every time Jacob was on screen. HE IS A GOOD ACTOR, Y'ALL, not just a hot 17-year-old. And I'm not even INTO muscles.

And you should have heard the ladies in the VIP-Reserved section swoon when Jacob took his shirt off to help staunch Bella's blood.

SEVENTEEN OR NOT, Taylor Lautner has GOT IT!

So, I'm not, like, the HUGEST Twilighter in the world, but I enjoyed myself. And I am REALLY anxious for Eclipse now since the whole "Will Edward be with Bella?" thing has been answered, so Rob Pattinson can drop the whole pained-expression-that-constitutes-most-of-his-scenes and just be confident and hot as Edward.

Did you see it? Are you going to see it? DO YOU CARE?

A Window Into The Future

2009-11-12T21:26:00.004-06:00

Thank God I have a Pie Challenge to keep me trudging through these weeks. I brought the pear pie up to MN last weekend and my rentinos, bro, and sister all chowed down on the dankness.

What was up this week?

Vanilla Cream Pie, the simplest thing in the world. Well, flavor-wise. All it is is a bunch of milk, butter, egg yolks, and vanilla. In a ho-made graham cracker crust. With ho-made whipped cream on top.

MMMMMMM.

Vee and I had a piece with dinner last night, and then I had a piece for breakfast today. And a piece for snack. And a piece for dessert.

Hey, it's a 48-hours-til-starts-sucking special, so I had to get INVOLVED because no one wants that going to waste!

In other mwomdom news, we got some new windows installed in our living room. Yeah, yeah, yeah--it's not like we're in an ancient house where the sills leak frost all winter long, or where the sash is stuck to the frame and GOOD LUCK lifting that ancient rope-filled window channel (real things I lived with the first time we lived here).

But it was like this: I couldn't open our windows without fear of The Kid pushing through the screen and going kersplat on the cement patio below. And when we took off the blinds so that the window dudes could begin work, and The Kid almost busted out the indoor screen (why was the screen on the INSIDE of the windows? Who thought that was a good idea?), I knew it was ALL WORTH IT.

Besides, dogs, TAX INCENTIVES! I can't bring home the good times like last year's first-time-homebuyer tax credit, but I can get my piece of the Obama pie and get 30% of my new energy-efficient window costs plopped right back on my tax return!

Why am I not doing a pictorial? Because, in essence, they look exactly the same. Except now I can harness the prairie wind shoving at our west walls in the summer and BRING IT IN!

Also, now I can clean them since they TILT IN AND CAN BE WASHED! By hand! Not by awkwardly spraying them with the hose (minus hose nozzle, of course, because we cheaped out and bought the jank one for $1.49 and of course that shiz broke so I was creating a "spray" by doing the old thumb-over-the-nozzle routine), soaping them up on a stepladder which didn't allow me to reach to the top of the windows, and then try to spray it all down. Wiping them with a towel? Dream on.

I can't wait for spring cleaning time, y'all. I am going to be blastin some V.M. while the wind tunnel dries them naturally!

I Love This American Pride

2009-11-05T12:33:00.004-06:00

I might have forgotten about blogging, but I didn't forget about MY PIE CHALLENGE! And thanks for all the suggestions, guys--I might try one of those sour cream guys out...WHEN I LOSE MY AVERSION TO SOUR CREAM! No, seriously, I think I can handle it once it's cooked.

So what did I bake this week?

Streusel-Topped Pear Pie with Walnut Crust!

This sucker has been sticky-tagged in my pie book for awhile, and I'd been meaning to get around to making it, but the Nutty Pie Crust always stopped me.

EXCEPT NOW I AM A PIE-CRUST-MAKER AND WAS UNAFRAID!

Seriously, some people might think I am pretty brave for having a baby. Or buying a house. Even though I think neither of those things take "bravery" so much as WILLINGNESS TO DO WITHOUT in order to DO WITH, but I commend myself on my own damn BRAVERY to start making my own pie crust.

My God, in how many posts have I bragged about this miraculous feat yet? I need to shut the hell up--my pioneer forbears on the prairie would have laughed their faces off if I tried to tell them how I am awesome for making my own pie crust. I think DUDES used to know how to make pie crust (well, OBV Ken Haedrich knows, but seriously--like farmplow Laura Ingalls Wilder dad style).

But I'm really anxious to eat this goodie!

In a split post, now--some bloggers might have the style to do two separate posts, but I'm not going to lie to myself and you and make it look like I'm posting more often than I am: TWO THOUGHTS, ONE DAY, I CAN COMBINE THEM TOGETHER--I need to know if you have heard the Toby Keith song "American Ride."

You haven't?

What, is your radio dial not set to US93.3? You don't have one of them old-timey radio-things, you iPodder?

Well, feast your eyes on this ill-capitalized knockoff, because I need you to know these lyrics:

"Lithamus, America's town?" You mean "infamous America's town?" But anyway.

I need you to know them because I am SO disappointed that the song is not called "American PRIDE," which is what I originally thought it was. I was actually INTERESTED in the song when I thought it was about our American Pride, and I was impressed at old Keith for singing so mockingly about the things we have undue and unjustified pride over.

Not the case. American RIDE.

Come ON, TOBY!!! Why did I expect better from the man who lets his id loose during "She's a Hottie?"

P to the I to the YEP YEP YEP

2009-10-27T21:23:00.003-05:00

My new thing is pies.

All right, all right, if you know me, you know that pies aren't exactly my "new" thing. I already sang the praises of Ken Haedrich and I've been rockin' around the clock every fall since '07, living it up with my cookbook.

But my NEW new thing about my pie book is that I am CHALLENGING MYSELF (even more than making my own pie crust, which BTW, can I even tell you how much danker my pies are now that I make my own crust? It's like the easiest thing in the world when you make it with a mixer, and it tastes 2,000,000 times better) TO A PIE MAKE-OFF.

Which is to say, I am making NEW PIES THAT I HAVE NOT YET TRIED for the next four weeks, at least, leading up to the great Pie-a-Thon that is Thanksgiving.

So today I made the first "new pie," which is called Tarte de Sucre (Sugar Pie). Getting back to my French-Canadian roots, y'all! (Did you know I am part French-Canadian? Thanks to my gramma!) It's basically a layer of crumble, topped with MAPLE SYRUP, and topped again with crumble, which makes a most appetizing and very baklava-tasting treat.

Want to see?

BAM! SUGAR PIE!

What's your favorite kind of pie? WRITE IN AND I MIGHT MAKE IT.

I'm Weird 'Cause I Hate Goodbyes!

2009-10-23T15:38:00.006-05:00

Vee has a pleasure which he SHOULD feel guilty about, which is listening to the pop-rock/"alterna"/whatever the hell they're calling major label music these days station. More often than not, he can only listen to it when the Kid is asleep or when he's driving around on his own, because DUDE! SORRY, but have you HEARD any songs recently? I do NOT need the Kid listening to "LOL :)" which is one of the more horrifying things I have ever heard, especially with the "I love Fisher Price!" intro which just makes it INSANELY offensive.

But you know, they're not all OFFENSIVE. Well, not in the traditional sense of the word, because MY EMOTIONAL CAPACITY is offended by the twee-ness of one of Vee's favorite songs: "Fireflies" by Owl City.

A.) OWL CITY? Twee name! A city populated by owls! Soooooooo KEY-UTE!

B.) The dude's delivery of words is so riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-diculous, gulping and spitting the words like he can't believe he's getting to sing in front of a microphone, and like if he sings like a kid, maybe we will all exclaim "HOW PRECIOUS!"

C.) The song is all about how FIREFLIES ARE ALL AROUND HIS ROOM and they are only there when he's asleep. ADORABLE!

D.) God, how can I even do this without dissing every lyric? "I'd get a thousand hugs from ten thousand lightning bugs." HUGS FROM BUGS! YOU CUTIE! OMFG! "They tried to teach me how to dance, a foxtrot above my head." AS IF ANYONE 23 YEARS OLD KNOWS SHIT ABOUT FOXTROTTING. Owl City Dude, unless you went to COTILLION when you were in OWATONNA, MN, I can guaran-damn-tee you that you don't know a foxtrot from anything other than 'Dancing with the Stars' and your desire to reference something arcane is SO DUMB!

E.) Seriously. "I'm weird 'cause I hate goodbyes." Dude, WHO DO YOU THINK YOUR TARGET AUDIENCE IS? I know you're singing to teens crying in their bedrooms, but FOR. REAL. Does anyone really believe they're WEIRD if they HATE GOODBYES?

It's been awhile since I did a hate-filled screed about pop culture, but I canNOT control myself when I hear this song! I want to abandon all hope when I imagine the pop culture rising up to meet the twee demands of this generation!

And then I remember all the high school nights I spent listening to preemo like "Everything I Said" by the Cranberries and "You Look So Fine" by Garbage, and I figure if high schoolers corn out by getting cute with fireflies, it's got to be better than THAT!

Reflux Redux

2009-10-22T20:05:00.003-05:00

So it's like this: about two weeks ago, after returning from the Wedding of My Best Friend, I drove my ass to the emergency room because I had the second episode in three months where I felt like I was choking, except I could breathe and, oh yeah, this time, I HADN'T BEEN EATING ANYTHING.

It's a terrifying feeling, y'all, to have your esophagus spaz out on you. Which is, in the end, what it was. An esophageal spasm.

The ER dr referred me back to my regular dr, who referred me into a GI specialist for AN EGD. You know what an EGD is? Sticking a camera on the end of a long tube down your throat and checking out the goods.

I went in on Monday for my EGD, which was insane since I have never in my life had "surgery." Ok, I had wisdom teeth removed, but I wasn't even knocked out for it--I had the laughing gas in a tube in my nose, but since I was panic-breathing through my mouth, I didn't really get any of it and I can vividly and distinctly remember the feeling of having my teeth lifted out of my jaw. Horrifying.

I was weirding out at the thought of being knocked out. Vee came with me to be my chauffeur post-EGD since I would be "going under." The nurse informed me I was going to get Demerol (to which ALL I COULD THINK WAS MJ! MJ!) and then a "mild amnesiac." Why was I getting an amnesiac if I was already going to be knocked out? What was I supposed to NOT remember, getting the Demerol? Cause I DO! It was SO. WEIRD! I was laying on my side, IV stuck in my right hand, and the GI doctor informed me that he was putting the Demerol in. I remember looking at the wall, looking at the wall, and then BOOM! The next memory is a slippery-slidey one where I was back in the main room, Vee by my side, and the IV was out.

Apparently I looked at the GI doctor as he explained that he didn't see anything, but I don't remember that. The rest of the day I kept forgetting things and then Vee would exclaim, "Amnesia!" and I would get mad because I could remember SOME things.

Luckily, my EGD coincided with a visit from MY BROTHER, who is finally home from his Korean Year and the Mediterranean Adventure of Two Months, so he helped watch the Kid since Vee had to get back to work.

We waited and waited for the results of my EGD, since dude took a biopsy of some tissue matter in my throat to check for this thing called eosinophilic esophagitis (but if you're cool, you call it EE). EE basically looks like GERD and presents like GERD but is actually food-allergy triggered. I didn't care WHAT it was, as long as I got my body back to normal. But DUDE, it wasn't even EE.

One ER visit, one dr referral visit, and one EGD later, and guess what, y'all?

It was "acid reflux."

Yeah, just good old DUMB OLD I ALREADY KNEW THAT acid reflux.

So I'm Prevaciding for three months to see if I can get it under control, and we'll go from there.

I feel like I am constantly complaining of obscure and requiring-multiple-tests pain, and then it winds up looking like I am an insane hypochondriac when they find, essentially, nothing. I'M NOT MAKING THIS SHIZ UP, but it looks like I am a refluxer, and a carry-my-stress-in-my-chest-cavity sufferer, and, honestly, I'm grateful it's just that.

a change of plans

2009-10-16T13:28:00.003-05:00

It's been bazonkaronk all morning at my house. The Kid was up at 7:20am and just went down for her nap at 12:30. She's been getting up at the luxurious hour of 9:30 for the last four days, so NEEDLESS TO SAY, I was pissed.

Is it even worth mentioning that I really HAD promised myself last night that I was going to get up earlier than her, like at 7:30 or something, and DO something with my morning, like watch the morning light creep in while slowly sipping on some green tea?

Does anybody really believe anyone any more when they claim they were GOING to do something and then, WHOOPS! They were conveniently unable to do so any more!

I'm so much more sympathetic these days with changes of plans and all since, IF NOTHING ELSE, having a toddler means your daily plans change, uh, every day. I am also getting mwomy because all the corny aphorisms of "being a mom" are there FOR A REASON. BECAUSE THEY HAPPEN.

"Get ready for no more free time"

"You will not realize how much love you have to give until you have a child"
(awww)

When I was thrift-shopping earlier this week, I found an embroidered wall hanging with the phrase that you've probably heard before; I know I HAD, since my mom had an identical one hanging up in our house as long as I can remember:

I hope when my children look back on today
They remember a mother who had time to play
There will be years for cleaning and cooking
But children grow up when we're not looking

I mean, I'd probably edit mine to say, "There will be years for web-surfing and novel reading," since those are the two things I always find myself guiltiest of letting the Kid do "free play" so I can otherwise occupy myself, but IT'S TRUE! THE APHORISMS ARE TRUE!

She interrupted me all morning by shrieking "Rees! Rees!" and shoving the SAME Elmo book at me until I pulled her up on my lap and, yes, read it to her again, but I found that I kept burrowing my nose into her hair and kissing her head between pages because goshdarnit, I love that Kid!

Library time when you get up from that nap, Kiddo!

Top 100

2009-10-15T19:56:00.002-05:00

It's only unbelievable to me, especially since I was on a every-day, then every-other-day, then every-OTHER-other-day writing routine for the first couple of months, which should have gotten me here by month 3, but I'm finally on POST 100 for evadingmwom.

100 blog posts! 100 different (or not so different) things to say over the last nine and a half months. Geez, in that time I could have gotten pregnant and had a baby, right? (Good Lord, is it only moms who instantaneously think in terms of conception-and-childbirth when you see the number "nine months?")

It's amazing that I'm on blog 100 because I can't believe I'm ONLY on blog 100. Guys, I'm SORRY, truly, because I seriously have a moment every day (no, really, EVERY DAY) where I think "Wow, I've got to blog about that." And then I'm doing laundry, or I'm collapsing in front of "Real Housewives of Atlanta," or I'm running to Thrift America to scout for PGV, or I'm returning my mom's phone call, or I'm squeezing in my work during the Kid's nap, and the day passes me by and I've skipped again.

Things I wanted to blog about but don't have the time:

My Best Friend's Wedding and how amazing it was to see her as a bride
Why Vegas has won the position of 4th Greatest Disappointment (I think the problem here is that I keep EXPECTING THINGS TO BE LARGER THAN LIFE)
Adventures in the emergency room (welcome to life as an acid-refluxer)
Halloween spiders: myth or FACT ON MY FRONT STOOP
The recurring desire to visit Michigan that happens every fall

Post 100 is my post-mark to try harder, and write less, more often. Thanks for holding on for 100 posts, and I'll try to get us another 100 mwomventures in six months this time!

On TRYING NEW THINGS

2009-10-04T21:38:00.002-05:00

My Best Friend's Wedding (HEYO) is rapidly approaching, and as I was starting to pack my shiz for VEGAS, Y'ALL, I decided I should probably try on my Honorable Woman dress and stuff.

I know it's October, so it's spooky time and all, but NO ONE WOULD APPRECIATE my ghostly legs. My legs were so pale, you could see the spider veins (HEYO! TWO HALLOWEEN REFERENCES IN TWO SENTENCES!). Ok, ok, even when I'm "tan," you can still see my spider veins. It's been this way since I was seventeen, guys, I'm not THAT old, so give me and my elderly legs a break.

Anyway, sporting the Snow White look with my dark purple Honorable Woman dress was clearly not the way to go, so I decided to do something drastic. This was no time for me to fuss around with streaky-ass orangey self-tanners, so I , um, called up a salon and scheduled AN AIRBRUSH TANNING APPOINTMENT!

My mind was ALIVE! What sort of mystical wonders awaited me in the basement "spa" area once I entered? Would my "technician" (and yes, she was classified as an "airbrush technician" on the business card she handed me) approach with some tubey-looking thing with a spray can of terrifyingly dark potion attached at the back and hose my legs down like I was at a car wash?

Well, actually, yes.

But it was all good! Because, as Vee said, amazed, when I returned home, "I looked healthy for a change."

Guys, I always take issue with a tan making you look "healthy," because DUDES, WHAT IS HEALTHY ABOUT A LAYER OF YOUR SKIN GETTING RADIATION EXPOSURE? What is healthy about DAMAGED SKIN?

But I was so joyous that I no longer had pale skin that I didn't care!

Buoyed by the success of my faux tan, I struck out for bolder territory: the local consignment sale. This joint hosts consignment sales several times a year, and since Saturday was HALF-PRICE DAY, I was like "YES!" since Kiddo is finally in her growth spurt and sizing out of her footie jammies. The Kid doesn't sleep under her covers (she sleeps like an ostrich with its head in the sand. Except there is no sand. So she kind of looks like a pillbug) and fall is HERE, so I needed to get her some roasty toasty jams.

The sale opened at 11:00am, so I figured I was in GOOD SHAPE arriving at 11:40. You know, early enough to beat those sleepy suckers who were lazing around until post-lunch on Saturday before entering the rest of the world, but late enough to miss the insaniacs who camp out, CONVINCED that there must be a cadre of clothes-with-tags-still-on-them (which THERE NEVER ARE, GUYS. THERE NEVER ARE.).

11:40. There's a line stretching around the building, and I think, "Hmmm, these must be the moms waiting to pick up their consigned clothes that they don't want to go half-price (because you do have this option)."

No. IT'S A LINE TO GET IN.

I was so astonished by the situation that I had no recourse but to get in line. I mean, GEEZ, everyone else was waiting. What sort of experience were they about to have without me?

So I wait. And wait. And we're shuffling forward every three minutes or so, enviously watching the women streaming out with rocking horses tucked under their arms and six-year-olds carrying the rest of Mommy's CHERRY scores, but we're not really getting anywhere. We watched moms FURTHER UP IN THE LINE peel off like fallen soldiers as we rounded the corner of the building and saw that the line extended for AT LEAST FIFTY MORE PEOPLE.

As it started raining, I felt really grateful that I didn't have the Kid with me. There was a mom in front of me with a little boy right about Kiddo's age, and a grandma behind me who clearly didn't think we'd be waiting as long as we were, based on her lack of A COAT. I asked Grandma what time it was, and when she revealed that WE HAD BEEN STANDING IN LINE FOR FORTY-FIVE MINUTES, I announced, "NO WAY am I waiting for AT LEAST another 45 minutes to buy USED CLOTHING for half-off! I mean, think about THE LINES TO CHECK OUT! I'M NOT WAITING THAT LONG TO PAY $3 FOR A USED SLEEPER!" and marched off to my car.

MAN, DID I TELL THEM OR WHAT?!

LESSON TAUGHT, Y'ALL! TEACHER IS IN THE HOUSE! Come on, similarly fed-up moms, fall out behind me, and let's march back to our cars, VALIANT in our UNWILLINGNESS TO WAIT IN LINE for the OPPORTUNITY to pay for USED MERCHANDISE! EVADE MWOM, LADIES!

I think the grandma was just grateful for my space in the line.

High Time for Pie Time

2009-09-22T08:53:00.003-05:00

So last weekend was a blast--of activity. On Saturday, we headed to the Applejack Festival in Nebraska City, EVEN THOUGH we swore we'd never go to the orchards during Applejack Fest again since last year's experience was a hellfest. See, Nebraska City has a year-round population of, like, 10,000. A-Fest brings in 50-75,000 peeps. CITY IS NOT EQUIPPED TO HANDLE IT, and so you find yourself waiting in ridiculously long car lines when all you want to do is make a right-hand turn to get out and back on the road.

Plus, you have to scrap with all the other families who are trying to get the peak apples off the trees. Last year, Kiddo was four months old, and we were huffing and puffing, trying to push her stroller down the orchard paths, clogging up the main artery and watching the lithe young kiddies sprint by with bags full of apples. Our apple haul last year? A disappointing mix of bruised, wormholed Golden Delicious.

But we were PREPARED this year! We got up and out early so that we were at the orchard by 10am; Vee wore Kiddo in the Beco on his back, and I bore A BACKPACK on mine, and we dominated the orchard paths. Golden Delicious? ONLY AT THE END! In the meantime, I picked a peck of Empire, Jonagolds, and Fujis, and by the time we were leaving, the orchard was just starting to reach Applejack capacity.

YES!

See, I had to load up on apples, because on Sunday, we hosted our Annual (which is to say, SECOND YEAR IN A ROW) Chili Hoedown, and you know I had to serve up some homemade pies. I am a serious pie-baking fanatic. Was I always this way? Hell no. I looked, uh, forward to every Thanksgiving when my mama would bake apple pie, but DID IT OCCUR TO ME that I could be doing it myself?

Do you guys remember that VEE DOES ALL OF THE COOKING IN OUR HOUSE and I do the baking?

So, like I was saying, I am a pie-baking maniac, thanks to this book that My Best Friend got me as a wedding shower gift back in 06 called, simply and elegantly, "Pie." Yes, a dude writes it, and yes, a dude is the pie-baking master, and YES, THIS IS THE MOST AMAZING COOKBOOK EVER! Seriously, I found my calling when I found Ken Haedrich. God bless the man.

This year's chili hoedown dessert options were the Golden Delicious Pie with Oatmeal Crumb Topping or the Cider-Infused Apple Pie. But wait! But wait! This year, 2009, is the year that I have finally started making MY OWN PIE CRUST! It's embarrassingly easier than I thought it would be, especially since, cough, I make it with my KitchenAid mixer. I can't believe I waited this long and kept buying those sha-nasty HyVee-brand freezer pie crusts.

I am quite in the throes of my favorite season now. Today is, after all, THE FIRST OFFICIAL DAY OF FALL, and the Kiddo and I are going to celebrate by going to a local orchard and picking some Cortlands, the apples I revere most of all and got a serious bend for when we were living in Michigan. OMFG, eat your damn Honeycrisps, I am CHOWING DOWN on the best pie apples ever.

What are you doing to celebrate fall?

Laboring on Labor Day

2009-09-11T11:58:00.005-05:00

(no, I was not GIVING BIRTH. Good night.)

We had my parents (Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD) down to see us for Labor Day weekend. I baked a cherry almond coffeecake pie (coffeecake consistency, pie crust) and, in exchange, they helped put up the IKEA shelves we've been dragging our feet on installing, got a huge headstart on painting the den (AT LAST), and watched Kiddokabiddo on Saturday so that Vee and I could go on AN ALMOST-THREE-YEAR-ANNIVERSARY ADVENTURE to the middle of Nebraska.

Why?

DUDE, BECAUSE! Have you ever driven through Nebraska on I-80? If you haven't, then you need to, and if you have and only have trash-filled things to say about that drive, then YOU SUCK because the prairie, as Laura Bush/"Alice Blackwell" said in American Wife, "is quietly lovely, not preening with the need to have its attributes remarked on."

We got to go to the Archway Museum, which has been tempting us since 2002. It stretches ACROSS I-80!

It was EPIC! I mean, LOOK AT HOW YOU ENTER IT!

Up the escalator and on til morning! You wear these little earphones the whole time and you're hearing voices of pioneers and letters and stuff while you look at the displays. It was great and WORTH THE WAIT!

That's how we do it on anniversaries, y'all: living and loving the prairie. We had to celebrate early since our actual anniversary is the day before MY BEST FRIEND'S WEDDING and we'll be busy, obviously, since I AM Honorable Woman and all.

We worked our faces off for the rest of the weekend with my 'rents and my arms were so insanely sore by Monday night since I was painting and painting and painting. Still putting the room back together, so I'll get a Home Show post up next week with what we did, but HOLY SNAKE, I have not been that sore since I had to carry Kiddo around all the time.

What did you do for Labor Day weekend? You know, since it was almost a week ago and all.

Thrifting and Sifting

2009-09-01T21:17:00.007-05:00

I went estate-saling and garage-hopping last weekend, as has been my Saturday ritual for most of the summer, to pick up odds and ends and stuff for my etsy store.

YES, YES, we all know I can't really craft so hot, but I can LOCATE AMAZING ARTIFACTS AND SELL THEM TO YOU FOR CHEAP!

My etsy store (prairie ghost vintage) has been doing pretty well--I've still got a huge stash of vintage postcards left over from, ahem, my wedding (almost three years ago. Uhhhhhh...) that I'm selling off, and then there's always those THINGS that I find when thrift-shopping where I buy it because IT'S TOO GOOD TO LEAVE IN THE STORE, bring it home, and then feel immediately guilty for spending $3.27 on a set of coffee cups when our cabinet is overflowing.

So I started reselling them.

ANYWAY, when I was estate-saling earlier this summer, which is BY FAR the best way to go--all these oldsters in the old neighborhoods I would LOOOOOOOOVE to live in keep going to assisted living, or dying, and there is probably nothing I love more than wandering around through SOMEONE'S HOUSE, especially when it is loaded with old books and housewares and STUFF ON THE WALLS and, yep, vintage toys--I came across this beauty:

It was pretty skanky and dirty, but the stickers were all in great condition, and I had to buy it for Kiddo. Because I USED TO HAVE ONE!

So she can now store her little farm buddies in the hayloft (how freaking adorable is this? I want to die)

But the TRUE AND AMAZING best find was last weekend. I hit the road at 8:30am (you have to get MOVING early to get anything in this town--there is no point in being out after 10:30am unless it is Sunday and you are half-price-buying at what's left at the estate sales) and went to the first sale on my list, which was in this absolutely STUNNINGLY gorgeous neighborhood that I would die to live in--you know, where all the houses are huge and built in the early mid-century and the trees are mature and OOH! YES-AH!

I walked up the driveway and was delighted to see all the vintage kids' toys--like rocking horses, old stuffed animals, etc. When I say "vintage kids' toys," I am shamefully talking about toys from my youth. I am THAT OLD! So I was smiling to myself as I sifted through a stack of old kids' records (like Care Bears Christmas, Strawberry Shortcake Christmas) and I got really happy when I looked on the ground and saw this old, old toy record player that I KNOW, FOR A FACT, I used to have!

And right beside it was a carrel of old Disney 45s/books where you'd put the record on and read along--including one that made me mist up--THE RESCUERS. I used to spend HOURS staring at those pages and listening to the sad/scary (because, really, it was both. SO SAD!) music while hoping THIS TIME Medusa wouldn't make Penny go into the cave.

(Aside: it was mildly terrifying to see Medusa in the book because EEE-IKES, I have HAD her hair. HAD! HAD! NOT HAVE!)

There was only one other person browsing around, so I plopped down beside the stack and started looking at the records, and I noticed that there was also an old kids' plug-in record player beside it. Wow. I was moved by my childhood memories and so I told the garage sale owner that I remembered most of them from when I was a kid, and mentioned that I had a 15 month old daughter. She told me that she had a daughter around my age, and had her over last weekend to pick out whatever she wanted to keep, and this stuff was what she had rejected.

I asked the lady, "How much for the record player, the toy record player, and the kids' records (meaning the 45s, and meaning individually what was she asking for them, since none of them were marked with prices)?"

She said, "Mmm, how about $8 for them all?"

I was like WHOA! but I knew I only had $6 on me. So I said, "I've only got $6..." and was about to ask what she would sell me for $6, but she said "I CAN DO $6" and offered to help me CARRY IT TO THE CAR!

Basically dying, but as I went for the toy record player, real record player, and the carrel of 45s, SHE GRABS THE ENTIRE CARREL OF 33 1/3S AND BRINGS IT ALONG TOO, and IT DAWNS ON ME THAT I JUST GOT THOSE TOO!

I should have seriously called it a day after that, since I knew I wouldn't get any better deals. And I didn't. But LOOK AT WHAT KIDDO AND I GET TO PLAY WITH NOW!

Anyone in the mood for "Camptown Races?"

Home, and then Home

2009-08-25T20:24:00.003-05:00

So. I went to Seattle for the wedding of Vee's best friend + now-wife, and it was utterly and completely exhausting. And I wasn't even in the wedding party! (Vee was best man)

My parents, Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD, along with my sister AKA, were kind enough to fly all the way out there just to babysit. Well, and be on vacation with us in the Pac NW, our first-of-homes, but really it was all because we needed someone to watch Kiddo.

We stayed on Bainbridge Island, a cluster of evergreens, hills, and hopelessly dreamy houses for the work-from-home too-cool-for-Seattle post-yups. I was disgustedly shaking my head at the idiosyncratic tropes that kept bursting against my skull whenever I looked up at the treeline and saw a line of fog (corny, CORNY phrases like "I would give up everything to see this everyday" or "This is what I am MEANT to live amongst"--the same repulsively childish comments I was telling myself when I was ten and we first moved away from Cor Or; believing in the DESTINY of my eventual life in the NW).

WHY COULDN'T I GROW UP?

The flat rooflines of my dream houses, the yards of endlessly tall trees poking their spines against the gray sky, the cool temperature (in August! in August!): I basically relived my adolescence and mooned around the backyard of the rental house as Grampa PhD taught Kiddo how to scoot down the stairs inside, swooning about THE LIFE I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIVING!

I am an adult woman, with a husband and a child, a house and a job, and I was making bargains with myself (this alone should have tipped me off: the fact that I was still on the third Kubler-Rossian step) to justify moving there.

MOVING THERE?!

Dude, I love me some prairie, and I love the life I've built, but I was cornily explaining to myself THAT IT ALL NEEDED TO BE SACRIFICED IN ORDER TO GET BACK WHAT I HAD GIVEN UP FIFTEEN YEARS AGO!

(And no, I was not thinking of leaving my husband, or my child, or, frankly, even my job. Working from home STRIKES AGAIN!)

When I am in a landscape that touches me, I automatically start making Faustian bargains because I AM SUPPOSED TO BE LIVING THERE.

The landscape that affects me most strongly? The landscape of my childhood--what I learned to base everything against. Home is SUPPOSED to be heavily treed, the horizon cushioned with uninhabited hills, mountains visible beyond, fertile farms, idyllic sheep, houses built in the 40s and the 50s, recycling bins at the end of every driveway and no Wal-Mart in sight.

Emotions run high when I talk about my time in Cor Or because I was ten when we left, and if you can imagine, the four years that followed (5th-8th grade) were pretty hellish, and the contrast was so extreme that even IF I hadn't been so enveloped in the idea that, if we'd stayed there, my life would have been better, you would have been SURE my life was better.

This is the state I was in as AKA, Gramma Goose, Kiddo, and I drove down through the valley to the Valley (Willamette, thanks) for our ladies-only two-day adventure back to Cor and to the coast.

A STATE OF RAPTURE IN MY STATE OF RAPTURE! O OREGON! There was a REASON people gave up everything to seek HAPPINESS by following THE OREGON TRAIL to EDEN! (It does not help at. all. that the Willamette Valley was actually the valley of promise, the true and honest farmers' paradise where the settlers who were STRONG ENOUGH to PERSIST wound up)

But how can I say this (and then how can I SAY this? Isn't it blasphemy? Won't I be struck down by the MEs of fifteen years?)? I was disappointed. DISAPPOINTED. It WASN'T LIKE I REMEMBERED IT. (And, for the record, I had been back in '94, '03, and '05, so it's not like I hadn't been there since I was a kid)

The constant evergreens--still gorgeous. The hills on the edge of the valley--still comforting and enticing. But it WASN'T WHERE I WANTED TO BE ANY MORE. I don't think you can understand the level of bewilderment as I recognized that emotion. I was so completely and utterly BEWILDERED at my reaction to THE PLACE I HAD HALLOWED AS THE PINNACLE OF JOYFUL LIVING for fifteen years that I kept waiting to shake out of it, to recognize it back as WHERE I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE.

But I DIDN'T.

It didn't get any better. We drove up Marys Peak, we drove out to the coast, we drove through the coastal range, we drove to Portland. And I didn't see one place that fit my landscape NEED.

HOW COULD THIS BE?

It was so confusing; I couldn't think of any way to describe it to Vee when I got home. It was like I peeled off a Band-Aid that had been there for fifteen years and underneath there was nothing there: no scar, no evidence I'd ever been wounded, no wound.

I am still working through my emotions, still sifting through what is left behind, what I have left behind, what I still need to leave behind. I know nothing, but I know this:

I am on the prairie, and I am home. And I love, love, love my life, more deeply and more intensely than I ever have before, because I know, with a bewildering new certainty, that there is no where, NO where, no where in my hidden secret if-I-were-only-living-here daydream life, that I want to be more than here.

And not there.

Ho-ly. Wow.

2009-08-24T12:22:00.002-05:00

Ok, seriously, I promise a real post tonight (or TOMORROW MORNING AT THE ABSOLUTE LATEST), but I CANNOT RESIST showing you this AMAZING ETSY FIND:

OH MY GOD, I AM LOSING MY SHIT! Can you even IMAGINE how on EARTH you could explain this to, say, your husband? Your boyfriend? Your meaningless-makeout?

"Oh, yes, I know that you thought I was a modern woman of the times, what with my natural-fiber rug, curly willow branch-in-a-vase, and bedroom window overlooking a bustling city. But GUYS, SERIOUSLY, did you not ALSO ascertain that I was the sort of woman who would have a wall cling of Edward Cullen?"

Tuesday Morning Scene

2009-08-04T09:55:00.005-05:00

It's 9:45am, Tuesday morning, and the windows are closed this morning since the storms have left the air too humid.

Kiddo's fishy-smelling diapers are rinsing for the second time downstairs in the washer (thanks DESITIN: FUCK YOU. Who puts COD LIVER OIL in their diaper cream? A better question: who DOESN'T READ THE LABELS before using an ointment on their Kiddo?), and she is handing me her Hawaiian Lady and her Traveling Lady alternately, then shoving them back in my hands when I try to give them to her.

The coffeemaker is beeping as I try to squeeze two cups of coffee out of the childsize handful of beans we have left, and the coffee will be too watery to drink although I don't know it yet.

I'm sitting on the couch in a yoga tank and yoga pants, not doing yoga and not intending to do yoga, reading from a collection of Joan Didion essays, and I start crying in a very Joan-Didion-1967 way when I finish "On Going Home" because she brings her daughter "home" (which is to say, the place where her family lives in central California) for her daughter's first birthday, and Joan "would like to give her home for her birthday, but we live differently now and can promise her nothing like that."

I pick Kiddo up in a moment of self-pity and put her on my lap and tell her I want to give her home, but she shoves "The Tale of Peter Rabbit" in my face and announces "BNEE! BNEE!" while pointing at Peter and squirms out of my grip, because you cannot miss home if you do not know what it is like to be without it.

Kiddo On the Move

2009-07-27T18:33:00.003-05:00

So it's like this: Kiddokabiddo has started walking (yes, for those of you keeping track at home, she's two days shy of fourteen months old. And Vee and I were both walking at ten months. Hey, the Kid reads books alone and has been feeding herself since she was six months old. I'm not fussing if she's a little late walking) which means I am spending my days holding her out at arms length, crowing, "Get your balance, get your balance!" and backing away as she walks towards me.

Probably the best thing ever. Parents who kept telling me, "Oh, you'll regret it when she starts to walk--she'll be all over into EVERYTHING," you were wrong. Even though she keeps pulling down my copy of "First Indian on the Moon" off the shelf she ISN'T SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO REACH and bringing it over to me while grunting "Ungh, ungh" (in Kiddospeak, that means 'Read to me.' I don't know why my daughter, who has no problem saying "bunny" and "plane" and calling every liquid "wa-wa" can't say BOOK, but I'm going with it).

Still love that she's walking.

Kid on the move!

I performed one of the greatest Recession Miracles this weekend. I had gotten an email from Gap (to AN EMAIL ADDRESS THAT I NEVER, EVER GIVE OUT, so how they got it is SERIOUSLY ALARMING) letting me know about a recall on a coat I had bought for Kiddo way back in November. (We bought the pink duffle coat, in case you're actually looking at that link)

Buying the coat alone was a major coup, since it was inexplicably marked down from $44.50 to $9.99 (AMAZING!) and, even better, I had a $10 Gap Rewards certificate, so after tax got involved, I paid a whole $0.48 for it.

ROCK AND ROLL!

So I brought the coat in, even though Kiddo has long, long since outgrown it and it was just going to unsafely languish in the saving-for-the-next-kid clothes boxes. DON'T WANT FUTURE KIDDOS CHOKING! Even though I was pretty sure that it was pointless and I would be refunded $0.48 since I put it on my Gap Card and, surely, they will know that fact.

I brought the toggle-still-safely-attached coat to the lady at the counter, she took it, and told me that I would be issued a $44.50 merchandise credit.

YES!

So I bought a bunch of leggings for Kiddo and still have ~$15.

And, um, another $10 Gap Rewards certificate.

Winner! Champion!

2009-07-21T20:49:00.002-05:00

Since I doubt you can read that fuzziness, let me tell you that the WINNER of the Pernille Vea Coffee Press, generously donated by Allmodern.com, is...

GRACE, commenter #3!

Grace, if you could send your email address and mailing address to kristineonseventeen at yahoo dot com, I will get your info sent along and your coffee press will be on its way! Congratulations!

And thanks, everyone, for commenting and letting me know who you are. Although I think I already knew who most of you are.

I am crazy-minded busy with work and getting my life back on track after three straight weekends of either being a guest, hosting guests, or traveling, so I'll be back later this week, hopefully, with a real post. In the meantime, in between time, I just need to say two things:

1. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (the movie) was ONE OF THE BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENTS I COULD HAVE IMAGINED. And this is coming from a MAJOR Harry Potter fan. More on that later--did you see it? What did you think?

2. Do you know what the most amazing thing about Savannah is? YOU CAN CARRY AROUND ROADIES ON THE STREET AND IT IS TOTALLY LEGAL!

Give It Up! I Am!

2009-07-14T19:32:00.004-05:00

I'm smack-dab between the amazing Ladeez Wiikynd of Thurs-Fri-Sat-Sun-Mon (wow, that looks a lot more like Ladeez Wiik--no wonder I'm still recuperating) and the upcoming Bach Bacchanalia in Savannah for My Best Friend, so to keep y'all on your toes, here it comes...

Are you ready?

The sweet peeps at allmodern.com, who've got AMAZING modern furniture like the Aeron Chair by Herman Miller (dude, I should totally have this to go in my office so that my thrift-shopped Herman Miller chairs can partner up with their kin) and lust-inducing housewares (like, oh, basically everything by DwellStudio), were kind enough to contact me and offer up a giveaway.

Right here!

You're thinking to yourself, "Ok, so what did she pick out?"

This coffee press by Pernille Vea!

It beats hell out of my cheapo coffee press, so I'm really jealous of y'all right about now.

Want to be brewing up your morning goods in this sweetie?

YOU GOTTA COMMENT!

I know a lot of you have been hanging out, unwilling to offer your rebuttals on my insane Twilight lust or unable to comprehend why I pimped out actual pictures of myself karaoking during Blog Party Music Week, but you've got to STEP UP and MAKE YOUR PRESENCE KNOWN if you want a piece of that coffee press.

If you don't have a Blogger account, comment with a valid email address. Otherwise, BRING IT ON--one comment per person, but you can have a bonus entry if you comment with a story about a mwom or a dwad. DOUBLE bonus entry if you were the mwom/dwad in question.

I'm closing the entries at noon CST on Monday (July 20 09). So when I get back from Savannah, I'm random-picking a winner.

Don't be like Miley...

Twenty-Something Turns, Well, Twenty-Something

2009-07-09T08:17:00.002-05:00

First, can I just say that Keith Urban's tour bus is in town, and probably nothing would make my life like Keith Urban wishing me a happy birthday? Hey, we've both got 13 month old daughters and he's already got a red-headed wife; I'm not looking to hook up. Maybe just a hug. Or a kiss on the cheek. You know, like, that spot right between the cheekbone and the lips.

Anyway.

At 7:30 this morning, Vee brought me coffee, a biker-themed birthday card, and the new Taylor Swift CD (OMG I don't think I have talked yet about how much I love Taylor Swift and how obsessed I am with the new Taylor Swift single "You Belong to Me"--another post, y'all, another post) and woke me up from a dream where I was getting ready for a new semester of college and Vee and I were commiserating over how "this year's crop of new students are actually ATTRACTIVE."

Even in my dreams, I knew I was getting ONE YEAR OLDER and ONE YEAR further away from the adult I was and into the adult I am.

I am twenty-seven today, y'all. That's right: this mwom-evader is revealing her age, forever more, on the elephant-never-forgets Internet, which will record this fact a lot longer than your memories.

I LIKE being twenty-seven. I like being in my late 20s now. And I want you guys to know that I'm 27 because when I haul out the list of things I'm proud of, foremost is that I've done them all by the time I'm 27.

Where am I on my "list of things I thought I'd have done by now?" Like I mentioned in a previous post, I don't have my masters and I sure don't have a baby on the way, but I have a house in a city I love, a 13 month old Kiddo that delights me daily, a solid job (almost FIVE FULL YEARS with them now) with people and a mission that I respect, a family I love deeply and grow closer to with each passing year, friends I can pick right back up with even though we live far apart, and a husband I adore, who I have adored for almost eight years, and who is truly with me in every step of my life.

I don't LIKE being twenty-seven. I LOVE being twenty-seven.

You've made it this far. That means something. It's MY birthday, and while I'm not going to pretend twenty-seven has made me all potlatchy, I can tell you this: there is an EVADING MWOM FIRST GIVEAWAY on the horizon, so keep your eyes peeled and your blog readers updated. And thanks for sticking with me.

All on the Fourth of July

2009-07-07T08:15:00.002-05:00

Vee, Kiddo and I had a great Fourth of July with Gramma Goose, Grampa PhD, and AKA up in the Cities: we squeezed in an IKEA run, lunch out at my aunt & uncle's, several walks around the neighborhood, Kiddo's first conscious fireworks display (OMG, can I even tell you about last year for a second? We drove home from MN on the Fourth, and by the time we got home, she was crankdified and I could barely take her out on our deck so that I could see the fireworks.), and a great walk around Lake Calhoun.

Oh yeah, and VEE AND I GOT OUR FIRST NIGHT AWAY FROM THE KID!

As Vee's Father's Day gift, I got us a hotel room at the Hotel Minneapolis during one of our nights up with my 'rents. Yeah, I know, that seems counter-intuitive: to celebrate the fact that he's a father, he gets to spend a night NOT HAVING TO BE A FATHER. Tevs, doggy--it was rad. When we checked in, I had inexplicably received a $20 food credit (member of HHonors? Random 'First Night Away From Your Kid' fairy? I did not know, but I DID NOT CARE! FREEBIE!), so we had dinner in the hotel restaurant on the main floor. The Hotel Minneapolis used to be a bank, and YOU CAN TELL: huge marble columns everywhere, three-story-tall ceilings on the whole main floor, and yes, the rooms do appear to be former offices, no matter how much mod detailing they toss on them.

The coolest part was THE LIGHT FIXTURES! They had these gigantic metal circles strapped around the columns and red flat petals with lights extended beneath them, and the overall effect was THE COOLEST CORNER OF HELL (ironic, since Vee and I had breakfast at Hell's Kitchen the next morning, which did not appear hellish in any way other than the fact that it was in a basement).

(this is not us, but the cavalier attitude of these two urban twenty-somethings does mimic our presence that night. Except I was not drinking a three-years-ago Cosmo. Dude, get with the times and pimp one of your rad drinks, like the "Gatsby's Daisy" which I DID try, featuring green tea vodka, lavender simple syrup, and tarragon!)

My sister and her boyfriend met up with us a little later and we hung out in the bar portion of restaurant Max. After Vee pounded a Jameson on the rocks, he was out for the count and rowdily accosting Twins fans (Tigers v Twins was on the TV, and Vee is nothing if not Detroit-proud) between verbal assaults on the 60-something scraggly-haired "lawyer" (as he told our bartender) with the highest man-boobs ever (no, really, the dude HAD TO HAVE BEEN WEARING A MANSSIERE) who WAS IN THE BAR BECAUSE HIS 21-YEAR-OLD BRIDE-TO-BE was having her bachelorette dinner in the restaurant and I guess a certain SOMEBODY had to get involved (to the point of ordering Zombies for the whole table of giggling young Asian girls, which gave the entire affair a flavor of Mail Order Bride).

Anyway, it was great to have our first night off of Kiddokabiddo Night Duty after thirteen months, and when Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD picked us up the next morning, Kiddo was delighted to see us, but didn't really miss us THAT much. OUCH!

Great long weekend, easy drive home, but guess what DUMB THING WE DID?

Left VEE'S KEYS and MY CELL PHONE at my parents' house.

WELL DONE, WELL DONE!

what a kitchen can make you (other than food)

2009-06-30T17:45:00.006-05:00

It's been a long time since I've had one of those "Wow, THIS IS MY LIFE?" moments.

So I shouldn't have been surprised when it thwopped me.

I was standing at the stove, one arm akimbo, one arm holding up a bag of rice, staring out the window and waiting for the water to boil, my crazy Kiddo in a Little Swimmers disposable (awaiting tonight's swim class) wawitzing out at my feet, a brown plastic stirring spoon from my mom's old kitchen stuck in her mouth and trying to climb up the stove (it shows her her reflection, which is apparently irresistible).

I had just finished mopping up her PEE from the floor (she has a CHEMICAL BURN, which sounds so much more horrible than it is, but basically it's because of all the ammonia in her pee, and I was trying to give her booty some naked-baby-time so it could heal).

I just took a mental snapshot of my life, and WOW, when I knew I'd be 26, I didn't know it would look like this. Even if I was staying on the "schedule" I drafted at 15 of how my life was going look (which is to say: at 26 I would have a husband, a masters degree, one kid down and one on the way), somehow it was supposed to look a little bit different.

You know, like with glamorous adventures as a mom, or a kitchen view like the model kitchen I used to stare at forever when my parents would drag us to this one home store in Albany.

You don't understand--it was high ceilings, tall cabinets, an ULTRA-LUXURIOUS PANTRY with TWO SETS OF PANTRY DOORS! (where you open the outside doors and there are shelves lining them, but there is also ANOTHER set of doors with shelves and more shelves behind that...it was like an invitation to endless stockpiling), but the number one, ultimate, daydream-inducing thing about it was the view.

Ah, the view.

Outside your windows above the sink, a field of cultivated desert-field stretched out before you, undulating, rolling, and behind it, the beckoning peaks of snow-capped mountains. You could see one other house off in the distance, but you were pretty much out there on your own.

Could I write this off as just a corny stage-prop, a piece of cardboard that every store used in their "country kitchen" display?

No.

I was living in Oregon, and I was CONVINCED that this view REALLY EXISTED over on the other side of the Cascades, over there in Eastern Oregon, and somehow this store had imported the entire kitchen from a house because they just liked it that much, but before they hauled it up, they took a picture (to stay true to the kitchen's complete experience, of course) and blew it up.

That was my life, THAT was my destiny: if I was standing at my sink making rice, I was looking out the window at THAT.

(not quite right, but not too far off)

Or I could be in my prairie town, piss-soaked Kiddo and all, trying to see the horizon beyond the houses, still stretching.

Oh, Michael.

2009-06-26T08:41:00.003-05:00

I've been a Michael Jackson apologist since the first rash of child molestation charges back in the 90s, and the "interview series" in 2003 was so lopsided that I couldn't HELP but back up Michael.

Whether it happened, or didn't, I will always be broken down with compassion for Michael Jackson, that he felt like he needed to surround himself with children to make up for the childhood he didn't get. It doesn't excuse anything, it only hints at explanation, but his acts of recreating a childhood that didn't exist and trying to crystallize time have always made me want to cry with the futility of it all.

Michael, Michael, my very first crush-before-I-even-knew-to-call-it-a-crush, like the millions of people around the world, thank you for your music, your gift. I can't stop til I get enough.

Home Show: Master Bedroom is Mastered

2009-06-22T08:10:00.003-05:00

Well, hi. What's due is what I'm about to do: to show you our NEWLY REMODELED BEDROOM AT LAST, even though we painted this sucker almost a solid month ago.

Your "Before" refresher?

Ok, that's a REALLY early "before"--note the co-sleeper that Kiddokabiddo has not slept in for a solid year and the lack of new furniture.

Let's try again:

So that's what we were living like up until the day before Memorial Day weekend. EHHHHHH.

What, pray tell, are we living now?

LA DOLCE VITA!

The paint? Olympic's "Caruso", and "French Riviera" as the wall behind our bed. We also bought a new summerweight comforter (Target) and the bed pillows, THE FIRST WE HAVE EVER OWNED, came from IKEA.

We installed an IKEA shelf over my dresser, brought in my long-suffering spider plant and bought a curly grass, and slapped up our other wall decal from Leen the Graphics Queen.

And our art. I'm proud of this since it didn't cost us more than $2.50. We already had the two big framed Yerba Buena and Yerba Mansa prints from Jill Bliss in our guest room (thanks Dad!), but when I moved them into our room, it felt really bare between them.

I, however, am a huge Jill Bliss fan and have been using her datebooks and stationery for years at this point, so I hauled out some unused stationery and notecards, ran down to Thrift America for some preowned frames, and GOT IT DONE!

Recession-era decorating! Reusing what you have! Vee was thrilled that I didn't spend a fortune!

I'm still lusting after the Douglas Fir poster for the guest room since the new decorating theme in there is THE NORTHWEST, but since I just bought a print from 20x200 for the guest room, I guess that will have to wait until the next pay month. In eight days.

Does anyone have any recommendations for TABLE LAMPS or mounted nightstand lights? I think that's the one thing I'm unhappy with so far. We have been using Vee's ancient old light literally since 2002, and I am tired of feeling like I am still in college.

Also, the wall our bed faces currently looks like this:

That's the hope chest my daddy made me as a wedding gift, and it's staying put and receiving glory for the rest of its life, and those are two IKEA mirrors set above it. We want to keep our room decor looking natural and prairie-like since, with the sea color and wavy mirrors, it's too easy to look beachy, which is TOTALLY NOT US.

So what can I do with this wall? Suggestions? Product recommendations? We're trying to keep it cheap, but inspire me!

Live Forever

2009-06-10T18:28:00.003-05:00

Our good friends the Botchkos came down to visit us over last weekend, which was especially awesome since we didn't have any visitors planned for the month of June and, well, Vee and I like entertaining. So I made a watermelon chiffon pie as Kiddo crawled around my feet (do not recommend this).

We went down to the Old Market with the Botchkos on Saturday morning, hoping to go antiquing at this awesome antique mall that I knew was going out of business...YES, YOU GUESSED IT, we were just a day TOO LATE, and the joint had a big NO LONGER IN BUSINESS sign on it. DAMN! So we poked around a few stores and then had lunch at a brew pub downtown; the one restaurant, without fail, that we seem to ALWAYS take visitors when we go downtown. It was actually the first restaurant Vee and I ever went to in our beloved prairie city, way back when we first visited back in 02. Ah me, young love.

Back at our house, we decided to watch one of the movies the Botchkos had brought. Mr Botchko and Ms Botchko are movie-watchers-extraordinaires and had supplied us with five from their huge stash to pick from. We picked...

BABYCAKES!

What can I even say about this movie other than IT IS AMAZING, and THERE IS NOTHING BETTER THAN THE "SOUNDTRACK" with its "babycaaaaaakes...niiiiiiice" awkwardly repeated at random intervals.
(see below for a sample)

I was SCREAMING my head off with laughter--the premise of the movie is that Ricki Lake is fat, and she works as a cosmetologist at a mortuary, and one day she sees this NOT HOT BUT SUPPOSED TO BE dude ice-skating and decides she is supposed to be with him. So she VERY CREEPILY stalks him, and after a series of "this dude is a CHUD with NO LIFE who and he is ENGAGED AND NEVER DENIES IT" events, they stay together.

But not before Fiancee (who is apparently a bitch because she works a lot) beats up Fat Ricki at a New Years party!

Furthermore, Ricki's TRULY A BITCH best friend who hates her because she is happy NEVER GETS HER COMEUPPANCE and when she is lecturing Ricki and Chud about how the world is going to come to an end, Chud AWKWARDLY screams out "Then I'm CLINGIN' TO GRACE! [Ricki's name]".

DUDE IS STILL ENGAGED! AND NEVER DENIES IT! Can you tell that I CAN'T GET OVER THAT?

Anyway, GOD BLESS THE BOTCHKOS for bringing Babycakes into my life. After that, what could we do but FINALLY plant Kiddo's YEAR PLANT?

We had been meaning to plant something on Kiddo's first birthday to honor her, and, ok, I'm just going to say it--we wanted to finally plant her placenta.

YEP, HER PLACENTA!

Vee specially requested that they save it when I was giving birth, and since I was IN THE MIDDLE OF LABOR, I said "Whatever! Fine!" and they bagged it up in a biohazard plastic bag and it has been living at the back of our freezer. FOR OVER A YEAR. But no more! Placenta is supposed to be AN AMAZING FERTILIZER for plants, so I'm just hoping that's what happens and not that MY KILLER PLACENTA takes down Kiddo's hyssop plant.

Sunday morning, we took the Botchkos to our favorite breakfast joint where we all chowed down, and then on to one of our favorite WILD WOODS parks (in fact, the one where we had our engagement pictures taken) before we sent them on their way.

IT WAS AWESOME, BOTCHKOS! LET'S DO IT AGAIN!

But I can't really leave you guys tonight until I tell you about my most recent Twilight discovery. So I was totally going to say that I feel much better with the Twilight series under my belt, and I am going back into it and actually reading all of the words this time, and I wanted to assuage your fears that while I am crazily into Twilight, I wasn't going to, like, make a Youtube video of Edward and Bella and set it to "Live Forever" or anything,

BUT THEN I WENT ON YOUTUBE TO CHECK AND SOMEONE TOTALLY ALREADY DID!

OMG! What is next, did someone make a video of clips of Al Gore and set it to "I Need a Hero" like I dreamed about doing back when they were trying to impress him into running for president?

IN! TOO! DEEP!

2009-06-09T09:25:00.003-05:00

Next blog will be about the great visit with our friends the Botchkos, who came down to visit us from MN over the weekend, but I can't focus because I have been in a "Twilight"-induced K-hole for the last four days.

How deep? Let's put it this way--I drove out to the West library in hopes of getting book2 ("New Moon") and was devastated to realize that every 12-year-old had the same dream this summer--there was a waitlist queue of 84. EIGHTY-FOUR! Since I had bargained an hour of mom-time-away-from-Kiddo with Vee, I had approximately 35 minutes, including drive-time, remaining after my failed adventure.

What did I do? Where did I go?

Barnes & Noble, where I sped-read the first hunk of chapters in "New Moon" for twenty minutes while perched on one of those uncomfortable step stools.

Did it satisfy my bloodlust for Twilight?

What do you think?

Being unwilling to shell out $20/book for the rest of the series, yet mentally incapable of waiting through 84 slow-moving pre-adolescents who would definitely max out their two-week-checkout-periods, I turned to eBay. Then I realized I would have to pay $35+ for the four books and THEN WAIT ANOTHER WEEK OR SO while they were shipped to me.

Unacceptable.

While scanning the about-to-expire listings, I stumbled upon SALVATION:

Some enterprising young kid/adult had SCANNED THE PAGES OF ALL OF THE BOOKS IN and would EMAIL YOU THE PDFS immediately upon winning the bid.

WTF?!??!?! An UTTERLY INGENIOUS scheme that cost the seller JACKSHIT while appealing to FIENDS LIKE MYSELF!

So I guttersniped the poor leader with only 2 feedbacks at the last second (I've been bidding long enough that I KNOW WHAT IT TAKES TO WIN) and actually Paypaled $5.04 over to the seller, and LO AND BEHOLD...

I WAS SENT TO A FILESHARE SITE! With all four books PLUS some bonus material!

First of all, I immediately wanted to share this with my friends because DUDE, it wasn't even the PDFs, I just FOUND OUT THE SITE WHERE THEY WERE BEING HOSTED and TOTALLY ANYONE COULD ACCESS THEM! But before my beneficient nature could take over, I realized that, well, NO ONE ELSE CARED AS MUCH AS ME, and besides, I WANTED TO START READING!

So, my Twilight K-hole. If I was on the computer at all in the last 24 hours (which, believe me, I WAS), I was furiously using Page Down and screaming through the pages of "New Moon," "Eclipse," and "Breaking Dawn." Usually, I'm a LITTLE more discreet and take my time, but with ALL FOUR BOOKS AT MY FINGERTIPS, I was stampeding through the storylines so that I could find out what happened, and enjoying little bits along the way, knowing that I could go back to REALLY read them at any point.

Conclusion? TWILIGHT IS A K-HOLE I WILL GLADLY FALL INTO, but my two complaints are this:

1. Honeymoon scene? NOT WORTH WAITING FOR! When Edward and Bella are making out in "Eclipse" it is SOOOOOO much better! Even the cottage scene in "Breaking Dawn" is better than the honeymoon! Which leads me to:

2. EDWARD NEEDS TO STOP BUSTING UP EVERY MAKEOUT WITH REMINDERS OF HOW THEY SHOULDN'T BE DOING IT! Look, I understand JUST AS WELL AS THE NEXT GIRL that over 75% of Edward's sexiness is his Mr. Darcyian falling-in-love-against-his-will, but DUDE NEEDS TO STOP RUINING LITERALLY EVERY MOMENT and just LET IT HAPPEN without the dumb remorse post-honeymoon!

You're KILLING MY BUZZ!

Twilight Falls

2009-06-05T07:51:00.004-05:00

Of few things am I as certain as this fact:

Are you writing a teen novel series which will incorporate mythical, magical elements? If so, LET ME KNOW SO I CAN GET IN ON THE GROUND FLOOR THIS TIME!

Y'all know where this is going. Yesterday, I stopped fighting fate and borrowed a copy of "Twilight" from the library. And as Kiddo happily crawled back and forth between the couch and the sliding patio doors on her own personal track, I tore through the book in three hours flat.

Then obsessively Wikipedia-ed and Googled everything I could about "Twilight," Edward, and, ok, a little bit about Bella.

This is the second time this has happened.

In the spring of 2006, though I had successfully dissed, resisted, and mocked the Harry Potter Mania, I had been through all of the interesting-looking New Fiction at the library, and finally decided to give it a chance. So I shamefacedly went over to the Young Adult section after looking up the author and took home "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone."

It might have rained that afternoon, it might have blizzarded, Conor Oberst might have been playing a free show at the park a few blocks away from me (and yes, he was), but I was LOCKED DOWN, LOCKED UP TIGHT on the couch in my living room, ENRAPTURED by the book. (For the record, I am totally a Snape girl, and I just like Harry's adventures. But my daydreams are not about little Harry Potter. Digression.)

The next day (no, really, the next day), I marched back to the library and checked out as many of the following books as they had. I plowed through all of them during the following weeks, trying to make Vee see how FASCINATING and AMAZING these storylines were so that I would have someone to talk through my THEORIES with! And as I was reading the books, fortunately I was able to ALSO RENT THE MOVIES! Like BASICALLY THE BEST THING EVER!

I was shocked at myself, since I am sooooooo NOT a fantasy/magical reality person. No, really. Like SO not into that sort of storyline. When I was younger, I was violently afraid of "Alice in Wonderland" and I got really, really uncomfortable whenever TV shows or movies would have things occur that didn't make sense in the corporal world. I had a very difficult time understanding alternate realities/the concept of space, and so I avoided them. On reflection, I think that's why I hate scary movies/ghost stories so much--they're all predicated on things "appearing" or beings existing which DO NOT BELONG in regular space and time.

So WHY WAS I SO ENAMORED WITH HARRY POTTER, a series of books about A BOY WHO WENT TO WIZARD SCHOOL and was permeated with magical flying things and spells and beings that should not exist?

I think the key word here is: wizard SCHOOL. THE BOY IS BASICALLY AT A PREP BOARDING SCHOOL, which has been one of my pet fantasies/favorites subjects to read about ever since I was in seventh grade and sending away dreamily for boarding school information so that I could rappell through the woods in my blazer and matching skirt like the girl in the videocassette sent by the Madeira School.

"Prep" by Curtis Sittenfeld? Basically like SOMEONE SAW INSIDE MY MIND AND WROTE A BOOK BASED ON MY FANTASIES. "Special Topics in Calamity Physics" by Marisha Pessl? Keep it coming! Combine that with A REPLICANT OF "The Worst Witch," definitively one of my favorite movies of all time, where Fairuza Balk goes to Witch School and then Tim Curry, as the Grand Wizard, shows up and sings the most amazing song recorded in history, and you've got Harry Potter. And you've got my obsession.

You can throw all of the usual wet blankets on the series. IT'S WRITTEN FOR YOUNG ADULTS, and so IT READS LIKE IT! No, it's not THE MOST AMAZING WRITING OF THE CENTURY. Do you think I care? Do you think it stopped me from waiting in line at midnight on July 20/21, 2007 for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows?

Or do you think that it stopped me from literally reading until 3am that night, then getting up at 9am and reading nonstop until noon, sobbing at parts, and when I emerged into the bright sunlight, almost speechless, being astonished that the world was still going about its normal cycle?

So here I am, with "Twilight," reliving my immersion into a pop culture mania I thought I was beyond and I definitely thought I was too old for. It's no Harry Potter, but I can read about a vampire teen with gorgeously-mussed-hair in love against his will basically any day. Can we get a little closer to TEEN ME?

I just hope the "honeymoon scene" in "Breaking Dawn" is as good as it should be. DON'T MAKE ME WAIT THROUGH FOUR BOOKS FOR NOTHING!

Technological Delight!

2009-06-02T09:09:00.004-05:00

My big ambitions with this blog (remember when I was BLOGGING EVERY DAY?) seem to have fizzled out; oddly enough, it is occurring in sequence with a decrease in my workload as I prepare to complete my last full week of 3/4-time work. Is it summer fever? Doubtful, especially on a day like today, with gray skies and temps in the mid-60s.

My big girl Kiddokabiddo celebrated her first birthday last Friday. And by "celebrated," I mean "refused naps and ate some refried beans from the Mexican takeout Vee and I were forced into since her non-nap-iness meant there was no way we could bring her into the restaurant." She did get to open a few gifts, however.

Like the dolly and the fake cell phone I purchased two days prior at Toys-R-Us.

It was so strange going into Toys-R-Us; I seriously hadn't been in one since I was MAYBE fourteen. I stopped going into them right around that time because I would get overwhelmed with this adolescent/pubescent/grown-up emotion that centered around the truth that I was too old to WANT to go toy shopping there, depressing myself that I was no longer interested in getting toys. You know, that old "Not a girl, not yet a woman" thing.

So strolling in, looking for toys for MY DAUGHTER, actually helped alleviate it--GENERATIONAL SHIFT! I picked out a doll for her, which was one of the most emotional things I could have imagined--the idea of seeing my tiny little toddler (not that she's TODDLING, but she AIN'T NO BABY ANY MORE) being tender with a baby doll.

Because I would have felt like a cheapo parent for only spending $8 on my first child's first birthday, I decided to get her another toy. There I am, in the "educational" aisle, about to buy those blocks that are different sizes and fit into that hexagonal box, when I spied...

A TOY CELL PHONE.

Kiddo LOVES my cell phone. Like, LOVES it in a way I never could. Since my Razr is busted and not getting fixed any time soon, I let her play with it, but since Vee has an identical phone, she doesn't know the difference and would likely be calling Oslo if I didn't intervene.

Classic educational toy. Cell phone. What did I buy?

Pretty sure Pregnant Me, New Mom Me, and Ideological Me were screaming at my face, but look at Kiddo's delight!

She Give Me Fever

2009-05-27T20:59:00.002-05:00

Memorial Day came and went, with a visit from Gramma Goose, Grampa PhD, AKA, and Mr Ben to replicate the Memorial Day visit of last year.

Except this time, Kiddokabiddo was OUTSIDE my womb, and I didn't have to call Mom back down three days later when I gave birth!

We had a pretty relaxing time: tons of MEMORIAL DAY food like hot dogs, burgers, steaks, baked beans, chips, and the first summer pie of the season, BLUEBERRY PEACH. Mmmmm. Dad and Ben hauled my blanket chest upstairs to our bedroom, we hung framed pictures, and Mom & Kate & I planted and trimmed shrubbery. Pretty low-key, considering that last year was a fiesta of light installation, outlet replacements, major planting, and dozens of sundry other tasks. We'd only been there for 2 weeks, ok?

Vee had been complaining of a "special" sore throat that "only he gets," so imagine how I was NOT surprised when I woke up with my own "special" sore throat on Saturday morning, accompanied by an annoying half-cough. IT WAS A FULL-ON COLD, and the only kind of cold I get--a summer cold. I don't get sick all freaking winter long, and yet, without fail, I ALWAYS get a summer cold, generally around Memorial Day. And no, it's not allergies.

Last night, however, the "special" sickness made its way to poor little Kiddo, who woke up at 2:30am with a 102 fever. My little Kiddo didn't let it get her down, but she was BURNING UP as I nursed her back to sleep.

And then I COULD NOT get back to sleep because I kept hearing:

This is the first time she's been sick, and although she's not showing any other signs of anything, I feel so bad for her. ALMOST ONE FULL YEAR with nothing other than baby jaundice!

Vee took her in for her one year appointment yesterday and she got her second round of Pc and HiB shots, and I CAN'T HELP BUT THINK THERE IS MORE TO THIS FEVER than just the "special" cold, but I can't prove it.

THIS IS NOT A PROMISING SELL FOR FUTURE VACCINATIONS FOR MY LITTLEBY!

Season Shift

2009-05-20T08:39:00.002-05:00

This whole season-shift from semi-warm and mostly sunny to HOT HOT HOT and BLAZING RAYS FROM 9AM-8PM is making me nostalgic. For SUMMER memories, all of them years old, and they smack me in my tracks when I'm trying to go about my normal day, sweeping up Cheerios spilled by the Kiddo or going for a walk.

I have alternately needed to remember:

The three-week-long summer trip my family took in summer 98, driving from Indiana to Oregon and back again, doing everything from visiting Prairie Dog Town to camping in Rocky Mountain National Park to trying to see Mount Rushmore through the thick fog (we failed at that)
The summer I spent in drivers ed and the feeling that I was either old or insane, being allowed in the drivers seat of a car, in utter control
Walking around the huge old conifers at Avery Park (Corvallis), the immense age and weight of them, and watching the tubers floating downstream at the levee
My 22nd birthday in Iowa City and finally getting to spend my birthDAY with friends, eating pizza at a bar I'd never been to and never went back to, playing volleyball at a dorm none of us had ever lived in, and feeling the kind of friend-love you only really appreciate when you're three weeks away from moving to THE REST OF YOUR LIFE and the gravity of what you're leaving hits you

It's only natural, I think, that as you enter a new season, you can't HELP but remember the seasons of the years before you. It doesn't make it any easier. THE NOSTALGIC CRAB IN ME, FRAUGHT WITH LONGING FOR MY MEMORIES!

Is it just my astrological bent, or do you feel it too?

Home Show: Ultimate Home Show

2009-05-18T08:46:00.004-05:00

Back from my week-long computer hiatus; I got my May Seventeen blog up at last, my Google Reader is exploding and needs to be caught up, but while I was gone, a momentous anniversary passed me by.

It's been over one year now since Vee and I moved back to our beloved prairie city, and over one year now since we've been homeowners.

In commemoration, I present to you:

An Exhaustive List of All of Our Home Improvements

Front Yard
planted flowers
installed new door knocker with OUR last name (no longer captive to the previous owners)
massacred insanely overgrown weeds that had grown thick, branch-like stems

Back Yard
put up clothesline
planted four prairie grasses to serve as a "natural fence"
planted lilac bush
installed rain barrel (working on the rain chain)
put out compost bin

Throughout the House
replaced gross taupe light switches, plates, and plugs with white switches/plates/plugs
ripped up cat-powdered "white" carpet and installed bamboo floors (in hall, living room, dining room, and all three bedrooms)
either replaced or painted scarred-up old molding with white
replaced sick cheap-shower-curtain-looking "drapes" in the basement windows with new ones

Dining Room
instantly removed repulsive 20-year-old "lace curtains" which had literally never been cleaned (I swear to you, this was the very first home improvement we made. I was barfing.)
covered chandelier sticks with patterned sleeves
painted awesome dark gray

Kitchen/Breakfast Nook
painted thrilling green
replaced cabinet handles and hinges from brass to smooth nickel-plated
removed stupid outdated "poofs" over windows
FINALLY ditched ugly one-side-carpet-from-the-early-90s, one-side-shower-curtain "sliding door blinds" and replaced with sheer gray striped curtains

Living Room
painted calming gray
removed dumb green sheer curtains
put up prairie flower decal

Hall
painted light gray
put up prairie grass decal

Main Bathroom
repainted MUCH better green and eliminated corny old border
replaced shower curtain
put up birch tree decals
replaced light fixture
installed cabinet
relocated towel bar

Guest Bedroom
painted bold orangish/red

Kiddo's Bedroom
painted soft green
rearranged curtains

Master Bedroom
painted "peach" (which was an utter mistake and looks the same as the yellow they originally had; TURQUOISE is on the horizon and will hopefully be done this week)
took down sick green blinds and replaced with white
installed new fan/light fixture
took down moldy old sliding closet doors

Master Bathroom
painted yellow (again, mistake, but no color fix on the horizon)
installed new light fixture
installed cabinet (can you believe these peeps seriously had no bathroom cabinet space IN EITHER?)

Downstairs Office
painted two walls terracotta
finally removed bordello cafe curtain

Include random fixes to the house in general (new garage door opening system, etc) and we were busy little bees. No, we didn't do ALL OF THE AFOREMENTIONED ourselves--we had some great helpers.

I LOVE BEING A HOMEOWNER!

Out.

2009-05-11T09:45:00.004-05:00

Out of commission for the rest of this week. My gramma, Kiddo's great-gramma, passed away last night. We're headed back up north.

I am so grateful for all the time I got to spend with my gramma, especially these later years, and I am so happy my gramma got to know my baby.

I love you, Gramma. And I miss you.

Mi Vida

2009-05-07T08:20:00.004-05:00

Another day, another ducat.

(All apologies to "Mi Vida Loca")

All my plants outside are coming to life, which is thrilling to a black-thumb like myself. I diss the previous owners of this house all the time, but I have to thank whoever it was that planted six kind tulip bulbs (three reddish pink, two dark purple, and one yellow) because I am harvesting them and bringing 'em in. Of course, the yellow tulip bulb washed underneath one of the faux-lilac bushes, so I had to bend the overgrown branches apart to pluck out the bloomed stem.

Always good to plot for erosion!

My black thumb is particularly proud of my REAL lilac bush, planted by my mom almost one solid year ago over Memorial Day weekend as my pregnant ass "supervised," because it is blooming its head off. Up at my parents' house, her lilac bush, carefully tended because it's a transplant from HER parents' house, didn't bloom for three years. AND MINE IS!

I am taking credit, but it has nothing to do with me.

Something that DOES have to do with me: in one short month, I am DECREASING TO HALF-TIME!

Another "I say 'Jump,' my employer asks 'How high?'" scenario, but really it comes down to the fact that I am not taking a reduction in my work load, just in the number of hours I am working. Which means no more scrambling to sit in front of the computer as soon as Kiddo goes down for her nap, only to find that there is nothing to do.

HALF-TIME! I am going from working 1.75x to 1.5x! 10 hours a week is a big deal!

I love my employer, and I love my baby. How did I get it so good?

Blogstravaganza!

2009-05-06T09:03:00.015-05:00

I am insanely blog-delinquent; I haven't put out May's Seventeen blog yet (SORRY! I am furiously scanning the pictures tonight and hope to have it up by Thursday or Friday) and haven't blogged here in days...hopelessly behind on catching up on my life, so I'm going to make this a huge HOME SHOW and embarrass myself by just going to the key rooms and taking pics, mess-on-the-counters and all.

BEFORE I GET THERE, however, I've got to blog our weekend up north! Vee, Kiddo and I left at 7pm, hoping to catch Kiddo's bedtime in the car so we wouldn't have to listen to 4 hours of shrieks like we did the LAST time we did that drive. Since we knew we'd be driving through the dark, we took the route that winds us up along I-35 through northern Iowa--sincerely, with the only exception of Bloomington, IL to Champaign, IL, my least favorite drive ever.

It had been an entire year since Vee or I had been on I-80 west of Des Moines--because it had been an entire year since we moved out west. A WHOLE YEAR! Kiddo was kicking me and I was chowing down on a Dairy Queen Blizzard (very Tori Spelling of me) last time we were there!

I-80 west of Des Moines is generally one of my favorite stretches, though it seems to loom large in everyone else's memory as "THIS IS WHAT I AM TRYING TO AVOID WHEN I DRIVE 'OUT WEST' AND THE ONLY THING I WILL REMEMBER WHEN I AM DISSING THE PRAIRIE STATES." But I'm telling you: IT HAS CHANGED! Stampeding along the fields and farms is WINDMILL CITY, stark landscape billboards-for-alternative-energy that DOMINATE the view as well as FINALLY harnessing all that crazy wind blowing from Nebraska!

(I tried to get Vee to take a picture that really showed it, but as you can see, we are not photographers. We are hopeless "through the windshield; 'you have to see it in person' documenters.)

WOW!

I think it's a great thing; don't get me wrong. It just SHOCKED me! All these in a year! I swear--I've done this drive for years and NO WAY were there as many windmills as there are now.

RECESSION ECONOMY!

So we scooted up I-35 in the dark, no problem, made it to the Twin Cities, crashed out, and went to see our friend Bejevals at the St Paul Craftstravaganza on Saturday morning! Her work is truly beautiful--she sold 6 little buddies at the show--and Vee and I bought Kiddo her First Birthday dress, which is utterly TDF! (pics after she wears it)

My family all went back to my sister's UNBELIEVABLE house for the afternoon (she is renting a house LITERALLY identical to my family's old house back in the Haute...EXCEPT WITH A POOL AND A SAUNA OUT BACK and an entire full basement. AND SHE IS PAYING $300 A MONTH WITH ONE FRIEND TO RENT THIS! And IT'S IN A REALLY NICE NEIGHBORHOOD! RECESSION ECONOMY!) and then Mom and I went out to dinner at the Downtowner Woodfire Grill ("the place to see and be seen," according to Mom's coworkers) before going to...

LEGALLY BLONDE: THE MUSICAL!

Which was A-MAZ-ING! I am not one of those "will chuckle at not-funny jokes in order to keep the mood in the auditorium light" people, so I hope you will keep that in mind when I tell you that I was laughing my face off, OUT LOUD, for most of the show.

We went to church on Sunday and watched Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD do great work as readers, Vee and Grampa PhD went and worked out, and then Vee and I headed downtown for MOM'S SECOND NIGHT OUT IN A ROW: dinner at Palomino with Bejevals and Mr Bejevals and our friend Summ J.D.! It was SO AWESOME to have dinner with such great friends, and then it was followed up by Vee and I casually crossing the street to the Orpheum and entering THE LEONARD COHEN ZONE!

What can I say? It was amazing! Vee and I differed on performance faves (he really liked "Chelsea Hotel" and I thought it was too swingy; his favorite was "The Future" and I will always swoon for "I'm Your Man," although "The Gypsy's Wife" was soooooooooo great) but we both loved it. SHARON ROBINSON was SO GOOD soloing "Boogie Street!" The Webb sisters' "If It Be Your Will" was enchanting! The only part that sucked?

WHEN THIS ANNOYING DUDE IN THE THEATER KEPT LOUDLY AFFIRMING "Yup" AS LEONARD WAS DOING A SPOKEN-WORD VERSION OF "A THOUSAND KISSES DEEP."

AFTER EVERY LINE.

I wanted to punch his FACE in! DUDE! It was soooooooooooooooooooo ridiculously condescending, like, "Yep, Leonard, you are TOTALLY getting my emotions correct; nice work, old man."

But I am so far off track right now--the concert was amazing, our time with Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD and AKA was relaxing and enjoyable, but I need to Home Show this blog and move us up to the present.

Office:

I painted this sucker a nice terracotta (I believe it was Valspar's "La Fonda Tile Red") and this is going to be my Southwest room. It's the office; I live here. We stripped down the corny bordello curtains too, and I need something in their place, but right now, just having the walls painted (we did the north and south walls only) is SO. MUCH. BETTER. Grampa PhD is working on framing some Edward Curtis photographs that are going to be hung on the wall and I'M TELLING YOU: the ambience is going to be sublime when we're all done.

Living Room:

We finally got the photograph we bought, cough, almost a year ago, framed, and it's up on the mantel awaiting the hanging, and we're pretty happy with it, but the dark green matting makes the whole thing look a little more NORTH WOODS than we were aiming for. We'll probably strip it down to a bare frame as time goes on, but at least it's not hanging ashamedly on the wall in ITS PLASTIC WRAPPER anymore.

Kitchen/Breakfast Nook:

Ok, have at it. Still need to make some decisions on those cabinets (i.e. keeping them open, making more open, or putting the doors back on), but Grampa PhD replaced all of our hinges and handles with silver/nickel, so it looks WAY sharper. Honestly, I'm leaning towards a bright pink for the cabinet doors.

YES, I said bright pink. We're going to have to replace them before selling the house in 5-6 years anyway, so I might as well have all the color I want in between now and then.

What do you think? Crazy?

(from Desire to Inspire)

(from Zimbio)

I know, I know--with our green walls, the pink might be a little too much, and I don't want to repaint the walls because I love the green. Any suggestions for what we can do to these boring-ass cabinets, though, without having to buy new doors?

Decal City:
Here's the decal in our hallway

and the decal in our living room

I really like these because I think they add the element of PRAIRIE COHESION we were looking for.

And finally, the moment WE have been waiting for since Valentine's Day 2009:

OUR STICKLEY LOVESEAT IS HERE!

WORTH! THE! WAIT! (Even through all the BS and blame--TEVS, DOGGY, IT'S HERE AND IT'S FABULOUS!)

I'll try to be on time...

2009-04-29T21:47:00.003-05:00

I can't even keep my own promises--it was another CRAZY DAY yesterday, topped off with Kiddo waking EVERY TWO HOURS overnight, so I am writing this on a minimum amount of sleep.

BUT IT IS APRIL 29TH!

This date is notable for two main things:

1.) Kiddo is 11 months old, which is insane since it means I only have one more month before my baby becomes A YEARLING.

2.) It is THAT MAGICAL DAY OF THE YEAR when my brother and I email/call/surprise each other with the lyrics to "April 29" by the Rembrandts.

"Oh, you mean that band who sang the 'Friends' song?" I can hear your mind saying to itself, "Come on, did they actually put out an ALBUM?"

Yes, y'all, THEY DID.

Said album has a number of forgettable mid-90s-pop-ish songs on it, but UNFORGETTABLE is APRIL 29, a little ditty about a guy who gets out of the insane asylum on April 29th and is calling his partner to come pick him up.

You think I jest?

JUST CLICK HERE for the lyrical masterpiece; I wish to God they had a Youtube video, and as I threatened my brother, I had grand plans to create one to catch him this year. Unfortunately for me, since my brother is in South Korea, IT BECOMES APRIL 29TH ONE DAY EARLIER, so he busted me last night.

I don't know why we started the tradition; it began back when he was a freshman in high school and I was a senior and I thought it would be funny on April 29th when I drove us to school (in my Taurus; oh, my love for my old high school Taurus!) to start off our ride with that song. HOW APROPOS!

It evolved, as I left home for college, into us calling each other and nonchalantly reciting a lyric or two, like it was a normal part of the conversation.

"Hello?"
"Hey Er"
"I'm so glad to see you; delighted that you came."
(internal: ? I didn't come visit you; I'm still at school...WAIT!)
"In a word, it's all arranged!"

Then the caller would sing "Unlock the door and THROW AWAY THE KEY! THE SUN IS SHINING (in this falsetto used by Rembrandt himself), WE'RE FINALLY FREE!" as the callee dissolved into giggles.

Look, it's really funny.

This day comes but once a year, and when it comes, it brings good cheer!

Grow Up, SHOW UP!

2009-04-27T21:05:00.003-05:00

Hi guys. I kind of suck; it's been five days since I updated. CRAZY BUSY. Finals week is two weeks away at work, which means THIS week is my busiest since all the exams are rolling in and it's go-time. Also, this upcoming weekend, Vee, Kiddokabiddo, & I are cranking back up to MSP. TO SEE LEONARD COHEN! Vee and I are losing our minds--LEONARD COHEN! This is like seeing New Kids on the Block (which I DID do, thank you very much)--WE NEVER THOUGHT WE WOULD GET THE CHANCE!

Leonard Cohen was a high school FAVORITE of Vee's, and when we first started dating back in fall 2001, Ten New Songs had just came out. IT WAS THE FIRST CD WE EVER MADE OUT TO! (Sorry Kiddo; in eighteen years when you are allowed on the internet without my supervision and you find this blog, you will probably be embarassed. WE WERE YOUNG ONCE TOO!)

Wow. EARLY DATING YEARS ASIDE, Vee and I truly have an abiding love for Leonard Cohen (even forgiving "Dear Heather"...uhh, no. Sorry, buddy.) and are really excited about going.

But this blog shouldn't be about what we WILL be doing--I've got to catch you up on what I've DONE!

(swirly lines indicating that we are going "back in time")

Last Monday, I saw Gone With the Wind in the theater, which was basically one of the pinnacles of my LIFE, since I cannot even come close to approximately how deep my love is for Gone With the Wind, and how I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE IT IN A THEATER. Geez, upon reflection, maybe I have had low standards for my life or something, because with the NKOTB concert, the Leonard Cohen concert, and GWTW in the theater, my "never thought this would happen"s seem to be, well, happening.

Anyway! IT WAS AWESOME, and luckily I had already begun my routine and was several chapters into Scarlett, so it is easing the pain of the end of the movie.

My routine? Every time I try to guess at this number, I feel like people think I am exaggerating for comic effect. I'm not. So let me be conservative here. I have been reading Gone With the Wind and following it up with the sequel Scarlett at least three times a year since I was 12. That makes 42 reads. So we'll go with "I've read GWTW 42 times," even though I've read it more than that, I'm pretty sure.

IT'S A SICKNESS! And I DON'T EVEN CARE whatever shit you want to talk about Scarlett and how "it's not as good as GWTW" because I READ IT FIRST, and it colored my reading of GWTW, and TO ME, it is as necessary as milk with fresh chocolate chip cookies. NECESSARY BECAUSE I CAN'T STAND THE END OF GWTW! SO FRUSTRATING!

Every time I read GWTW and Scarlett, I catch something new. It's like the Bible, y'all. Watching GWTW this time, though, I realized something that was probably obvious to everyone I know, yet didn't click out of my subconscious until last Monday: I RELATE TO SCARLETT BECAUSE SHE IS ONE OF THE FEW CATHOLIC HEROINES I HAVE EVER SEEN IN A POPULAR NOVEL WHO IS NOT "RENOUNCING IT"!

I'll save my damnation of "Rhett Butler's People" (notice how I am putting it in quotes like it is not a real novel? BECAUSE IT SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN!) for another post, but I am deep in Scarlett's adventures in Ireland right now and so the end of GWTW wasn't as bad.

Except, well, I had brought my Klean Kanteen full of water (it's a 3.5 hr movie, y'all) and inadvertently spilled it. Inside my purse. ON MY CELL PHONE. Which DIED, and which, when I brought it to the Sprint Store, the dude told me it would be $100 to fix.

A HUNDRED DOLLARS!

Fortunately, I was prepared for this trickery, and whipped out my ancient cell phone from '04 and made the dude transfer my number to it.

So now I am casually sporting a hilariously Zach-Morris-style cell phone until Nov '09 when our contract comes back up and I am due for a new cell.

CATCH UP ON WED-FRI OF LAST WEEK TOMORROW, if I get the chance to break from frantic HTMLing and my daughter's other front tooth comes in (this is her sixth tooth, and the one she is SCREAMING at the most).

Earth Day!

2009-04-22T09:25:00.001-05:00

Happy Earth Day, y’all!

I’m sure you know by now that EARTH DAY IS EVERYDAY, but I know I’m personally glad we’ve got one day a year when even Target recognizes that it’s time to give back to the earth and hands out free reusable bags (though they were inexplicably doing this on Saturday and calling it “in honor of Earth Day”).

I haven’t always been green, I hope you know. Sure, like all the other kids in my elementary school, I planted a tree and sang about how animals “have to have a habitat” at the Oregon State University Earth Day Fair (we got to sing IN FRONT OF COLLEGE KIDS! It was THRILLING!), but when I moved out of my parents’ house, I was probably the messiest non-greener you can imagine. Tossing it all out (even though there was a recycling bin that, God bless my roommate Lily, got emptied out weekly) because it was more convenient, shopping it up at Wal-Mart with disregard for all the superfluous packaging (and even though I lived CLOSER to a HyVee, I was offended by the extra $0.10 they wanted for the same package of Little Debbies I could get out at Chaypest. Although I easily used an extra $1.00 of gas to get to Wal-Mart, thus negating any savings), and leaving my computer permanently on.

Yeah, I could have been worse, but the point is mostly that I just WASN’T THINKING.

Now?

We recycle everything we can get our hands on (and Lily, you might be pleased to know that I am the one driving the glass to the recycling center now), compost, use reusable bags at the grocery store/every store, leave all the lights off for 22/24 hours in the day (our house gets a lot of natural light), unplug appliances religiously, computers all go to standby/sleep mode, line-dry our clothes when possible (FINALLY SPRING!), use cloth diapers, are starting a rain barrel this weekend, and gave away all the strippings of our 90s house to thrift stores (Hey, SOMEONE must like bordello curtains and old faux-brass fixtures. Far be it from me to deny them the pleasure!).

Our consumer choices? Phosphate-free dishwasher detergent, natural laundry detergent, natural cleaning products (vinegar is amazing and works ON EVERYTHING!), local-grown food & produce when possible, VOC-free paint, VOC-free floors (BAMBOO your floors, guys—it’s a renewable resource, and you don’t want to know what you’re breathing in when you walk on carpet), Vee uses a manual push mower on our lawn, drive cars that routinely get 30mpg, and I just switched to the Diva Cup, y’all.

Support local—not just because you’re keeping money in the good old USA and preventing the unemployment rate from rising through job-outsourcing, but because your goods don’t travel as far to get to you, which means less auto emissions, which means you are singlehandedly helping keep the ozone layer intact just by shopping at the local stationery store instead of ordering your cards online (which requires the seller to drive to their local post office to mail the goods, the USPS guys to drive across the country to deliver to YOUR local post office, and your postal worker to drive to your mailbox).

Start small. Repurpose something in your house instead of buying something new. Refurbish something in your house instead of buying something new. Recycle something in your house and give it away instead of tossing it out because you don’t like it/don’t need it any more.

Use a smaller gob of shampoo in the shower (You only need a quarter size dollop. Can you believe that? I used to think you needed to COVER YOUR PALM. I wish I was joking).

Unplug an appliance you rarely use. Dude, it’s not that much of a hassle to plug it in again before you use it, and now you’re no longer wasting VAMPIRE POWER. Open your blinds/curtains. If you live somewhere warm, use the light strategically and tilt the blinds against the sun to keep the heat out, then when the sun shifts, open those blinds and tilt the other ones in your house.

Then, instead of driving to the mall or taking public transit (if you are doing this, I applaud you and wish I lived somewhere that recognized the importance of public transit and made it more accessible), take a walk around your neighborhood. Breathe in the place where you live, and breathe out good intentions.

You have to have a habitat!

Columbine.

2009-04-20T12:11:00.003-05:00

Ordinarily, I'd start today's Monday blog with a weekend recap, especially since Vee and I were INCREDIBLY busy with home reno.

But my cursory scan of the news websites this morning reminded me of something that knocked on my teenage heart.

It's been 10 years since Columbine.

Just reading the name "Columbine" made my eyes start smarting and my throat choke up. It's almost impossible to tell you about the impact that Columbine had on me. I felt the shooting so intensely that it might as well have happened in my high school; every detail I read about it, I could see it in MY hallways, the west entrance to MY high school where they entered, MY cafeteria where the students clustered, the tables in MY library. The entire thing was so utterly shocking that I couldn't go to school for days afterward without picturing exactly how it would unfold in my school; that pervasive feeling that, really, there was no reason it DIDN'T happen at my school, wouldn't happen at my school.

My ANGER at the shooters for killing themselves and the first time I realized that, sometimes, you wouldn't GET to mete out justice. The pit-of-stomach fear I felt the next fall when, randomly, the lights all went out during second-period government class and we nervously chattered (and I think someone even joked, almost unbelievably, about Columbine) until the intercom came on and said the janitor had accidentally flipped the power switch and power would be back in a couple of minutes. My inability to comprehend how any of us could ever go back to school again, no matter how many security cops they stationed throughout the school, the following ban on carrying backpacks to class, the ensuing locking of the entrances after 8:30am so if you wanted to enter, you had to go through the front of the school.

I started having horrible fantasies about how no place, ANYWHERE, was ever REALLY safe from something like that happening. A church? Wal-Mart? Track practice? How can you look at every person bearing a duffle bag as anything other than a potential killer?

My freshman-year roommate at college was from Littleton. She went to the other high school, although whenever she told people where she was from, all anyone asked was "Did you know anyone at Columbine? That must have been awful." She said she didn't actually know anyone there, and nothing changed at her high school. She was a writer, and wrote short stories about how boring Littleton was when she was in high school, how she and her best friend called it "Little-fun."

I can't ever stop crying when I read about Columbine, or any of the other school shootings that followed. Virginia Tech brought me to my knees, my ultimate fear of shootings following me to college being recognized. The mall shooting in Omaha was more horrifying than I can speak.

My trust in humanity changed, ten years ago today. My heart goes out to everyone else who was changed that day, but especially to the students, faculty, and families of Columbine. God protect us.

Home Show: Promises, Promises!

2009-04-17T07:55:00.006-05:00

Here at last, y'all! It's time to live the decal dream! (Well, 1/3 of it. ONE AT A TIME, ONE AT A TIME!)

BATHROOM RENO PICS!

First, I need to give you a tour of what we were working with. Hold onto your 1990 hat and experience...

THE PREVIOUS OWNERS' LIFE:

This one really gives you full scope into the bathroom we lived in for too long. Sure, I didn't clutter the countertop with all of the potions and lotions as Mrs. 1990 (and WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT when people are home-touring? Talk about DE-EMPHASIZING THE ONE GOOD FEATURE OF THIS BATHROOM, the size of the countertop). But look in the mirror, my pretties, and see the wall color.

Mint green. With an incredibly corny border and MATCHING SHOWER CURTAIN.

Full disclosure (and I am truly ashamed to have to disclose this): we kept BOTH THE BORDER AND THE SHOWER CURTAIN up until mid-March. We moved in last May. NOT BECAUSE WE LIKED IT, but because we didn't know "what we were going to do to the room" and didn't want to buy something that wouldn't work. I don't know WHY we didn't at least remove the border.

BUT! When Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD were in town, we painted that sucker at last! And last night, after cursing our heads off while Kiddokabiddo slept and we tussled with our decals, I present to you:

OUR LIFE

NOT BAD!

Additional changes included swapping this light fixture

for this

Reno still to come: tiling the floor, replacing the blue countertop (with white soapstone? Thoughts? Suggestions?), and the purchase of dark brown toilet seat cover/shower mats.

Worth the wait?

Home Show: Fake Out

2009-04-16T08:06:00.003-05:00

It's kind of necessary for me to start today by announcing that, REGARDLESS of where My Best Friend gets married, I am thrilled to death that she has picked me as Honorable Woman and, as an honorable woman, I am also thrilled to death to help with the planning in any (and every) way I can.

Even if she gets married at the Taco Bell in the Haute (wouldn't that be AMAZING, btw, My Best Friend?).

We are so, so close to having the decals all put up on our walls, but Vee had to go strum his guitar last night at an Open Mike Jam, so I dutifully tried to watch television (no, seriously, I never watch TV any more. Case in point: my beloved, beloved ANTM? HAVEN'T SEEN A SINGLE EPISODE THIS SEASON. Working in the evening + yoga + baby = NO TUBE TIME) and couldn't find anything decent except home improvement shows.

Why are they so irresistible? LIKE I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH HOME IMPROVEMENT IDEAS BOUNCING AROUND IN MY HEAD/NOTEBOOK that I need to watch shows where they are much craftier than myself and then come up with more impossibilities?

My current house fantasies include, among other things, adding a real front porch to our house, which would permit a porch swing and some semblance of privacy.

Our house now:

Our house in fantasy world:

Ok, I just really revealed my HORRIBLE skills on the computer. I swear that I work with HTML for a living! But can you get a basic idea? Toss down some cement on those horrible bushes, extend the diagonal roof over and make a (gently sloping for visual interest, naturally) roof over the porch?

What will we really be spending money on this spring?

Crabgrass prevention and replacing the busted terracing on the "diagonal garden" at the corner of our house where the logs have bowed out to the point that a little buddy (woodchuck? raccoon? gigantic rat?) has tunneled in and made a little home for himself/herself.

An Honorable Woman

2009-04-15T07:56:00.002-05:00

My calves, thighs, butt, and feet have been aching since ~6pm yesterday, when Vee and I got back from my second walk of the day. I took Kiddo to the zoo (62 and sunny!) and hiking up and down those hills was ROUGH! I could feel my calves jeering at me, "Ohhhhh, so you decided TODAY you could WALK A LOT, huh? YOU CAN'T!" Luckily, I've got yoga tonight and I can beat my body up a little more to soften those muscles.

For those of you who know me in real life, I just became MATRON OF HONOR for My Best Friend, who got engaged last week. I've been excited about this for I-can't-even-tell-you-how-long; when we were angsty teenagers watching "A Wedding Story" on TLC for summers on end and convinced that we were too UGLY DUCKLING to ever get married, we bet each other $100 that the other one would get married first.

Coincidentally, I did happen to get married first, but it's no reflection on our teenage self-perceptions!

Anyway, My Best Friend was, naturally, my maid of honor, and did a FANTASTIC job planning and executing my bachelorette party in Nashville, flew up to northern MN for my bridal shower, handled the ordering of all the bridesmaid/flower girl dresses, and listened to me rampage about random wedding ephemera (which, looking back, was HILARIOUSLY not-important and totally bridezilla-y. Sorry, man!).

It didn't occur to me UNTIL AFTER I WAS MARRIED that, since she was MAID of honor in my wedding, that would mean I would have to be MATRON OF HONOR. MATRON! I am not old enough to be a matron. My substitute name for myself, "Honorable Woman," received an eyebrow raise from Vee. What, I'M NOT HONORABLE?

So my Honorable self hauled out ye olde wedding box with all our planning junk and leftover invitations and (humiliatingly) our final budget, and I got to work weeding through what I could pass on. And then a nagging suspicion occurred to me, and I fled back to my computer to check My Best Friend's Facebook update.

I BELIEVE SHE IS PLANNING TO BE MARRIED IN LAS VEGAS (no, not one of "those") AND I AM BASICALLY USELESS AT ANYTHING OTHER THAN A MIDWEST-STYLE WEDDING.

At least I can plan a killer bachelorette party!

Ahh, The Old Days

2009-04-13T21:04:00.002-05:00

Easter weekend was great--more on that later, I'm still catching up the house/work/pics and applying THE DECALS tonight--so I'm taking the lazy way out and reposting TWENTY QUESTIONS on the Facebook CIRCLE OF MOMS app I opted into.

Yes, I said I opted into a Facebook app.

ANYTHING TO REMINISCE ABOUT MY LITTLE 10.5 MONTHER WHEN SHE WAS A NEWBY!

1. How old were you when your first child was born?

2. What month and year was your youngest child born?

May 2008

3. How did you feel when you first found out you were pregnant?

Cautiously excited--she was a surprise and for some psycho-first-time-mom reason, I thought it was an ectopic pregnancy so I didn't want to get too prepared

4. Who did you tell first?

Vee--I made him come into the bathroom (he knew I was taking the test) and stare at it with me because I needed verification that I was actually seeing two lines

5. How many pounds did you gain during your first pregnancy?

38!

6. What did you crave while you were pregnant?

SHOWERS! Forget food, I could NOT get enough hot showers. For most of my pregnancy, I took at LEAST two showers a day, and ran the water down until it turned cold. It took away my nausea and heartburn and felt AMAZING!

7. Did you find out the gender of your first child? Why or why not?

Yep--I always swore I wouldn't, but during my first trimester, I felt like it was really important to me to talk to my growing child and use the correct pronoun. I don't know if I'll find out future kids, though. It was great, but now the big shock is over.

8. Did you have any complications during your pregnancy?

Nope. Blessedly!

9. How much did your first child weigh?

6#9oz, JUST WHAT I WEIGHED WHEN I WAS BORN!

10. Was your first child early, late, or on time?

4 weeks and 1 day early

11. What is the most difficult challenge or health issue that any of your children have faced?

Kiddokabiddo developed jaundice, was on the bili belt 24hrs a day for 4 days straight, and lost a pound in a week. Then we fussed with nursing for over 12 weeks (I was pumping and we were feeding her with a syringe).

12. What's your favorite part of being a mom?

How much delight she brings to me as she learns new things. And watching my husband truly be THE PROUD DAD ANNOUNCING RANDOM BABY FACTS TO STRANGERS.

13. Do you think it's easier to be a mom or a dad?

a dad!

14. What is the best piece of advice you could give to someone who is about to have their first child?

Stop reading all of the books about what stage of growth your unborn baby is and START READING THE BOOKS ABOUT THE FIRST FEW WEEKS AFTER THE BABY IS BORN because you won't have time to do it once she/he is here!

15. Did you always think you'd have kids?

Absolutely

16. What's been the biggest surprise about motherhood?

How UNirritated I would get in the first few months when Kiddo would cry and need something--I genuinely wanted to just make her feel better, not stop her crying.

17. Are there things you miss about life before kids?

Travel! Travel! Travel!

18. How many children do you have?

19. Do you plan to have any more children?

Absolutely

20. Who's the mom that you admire most?

I take something from every mom I know!

Reconciliation

2009-04-09T07:57:00.002-05:00

Life's been busy on our side of the river, having My Best Friend in town and then getting ourselves packed and ready to spend Easter with Gramma Goose, Grampa PhD, and AKA. I swear, I really am going to do a blog about the kitchen and bathroom renovations. The hold-up on the bathroom hinges on the arrival of some art I ordered for it.

Oh, ok, I'll show you the art at least.

CHECK THAT OUT! No, that's not my bathroom (a couch? a lamp? get real!) but THOSE BIRCH TREES WILL SOON BE LIVING ON MY BATHROOM WALL! We ordered this decal from Leen the Graphics Queen on etsy, and while we were at it, we also ordered the following decals for our hall & living room:

HALL

LIVING ROOM

So, basically, we are going to have the coolest house ever. Permanently on our quest to de-mwomify it.

As Lent is winding down and our home parish started pumping up reminders for Confession (we're calling it RECONCILIATION these days; much more approachable, right?), I have to admit that I am feeling bad that I haven't done one since the night before my wedding. Over two years ago. I meant to go on Tuesday night after my haircut, but it didn't start until 7:30, and I had to get myself in front of a computer screen to work by 7pm. Last night, as I was driving home from my first yoga class through the local community college (not my first yoga class EVER, which is FORTUNATE since the instructor basically assumed everyone knew proper poses for Down Dog, etc.), I passed by a Catholic church with its Lenten reconciliation services posted...and one was occurring at that very moment. I almost turned into the driveway and just got 'er done, but I had to get home and, again, get to work.

Which made me think: what's more important, working on my PAID EMPLOYMENT or working on my SOUL?

(Note: that is a hypothetical question designed to alleviate some guilt while drawing out some more. Obviously, if I am being paid by my employer to be working during X hours, I better BE there and be working. Conversely, there is nothing more important than cleaning one's soul and no excuses to the Lord at the end of it all by muttering, "Sorry, dog, I was working. You know. At my job. Ahem.")

Anyway, tomorrow is Good Friday, and it will be a Good Friday for me since my mom, sister, and I are "going to tea" to have lady-girl-bonding-time. My extended family is coming over to my parents' house on Saturday for dinner, then on Sunday morning it's Easter service, then Vee, Kiddo, and I are back on the road, back home to our house where, coincidentally, the Easter Bunny will have arrived for the first time in Kiddo's life.

Have a great Easter and End-of-Lent, y'all!

Weekend Revel: BFF Y'ALL!

2009-04-06T19:31:00.005-05:00

Hope y'all had a great weekend...ummm, we got SNOW on Sunday, but I had a great weekend anyway since My Best Friend was here visiting from NC!

My Best Friend is also Kiddokabiddo's godmother, so after she godmothered her a bit (reading books and getting her a promise ring and whatnot), we did WINE NIGHT OUT at this bougey wine store/wine bar. Except we had champagne. This is highly unlike me; I can count on one hand the number of nights I have drunk champagne (Shannon's 21st Birthday [OMFG], my wedding reception, when Vee got his graduate assistantship, and Friday night).

NOT BAD!

We also rented "My First Wedding" on Friday night. The tagline for the movie? "He's so NOT a priest!" And that kind of explains it all. Rachael Leigh Cook was in it. My Best Friend fell asleep during it and I didn't even bother to finish the movie because it was that dumb.

Vee made us eggs and waffles on Saturday morning, which made us discuss a very real phenomenon: when you dine out for breakfast/brunch, you have two choices.

You can order eggs/an egg dish, and you will feel inspired to be productive with the rest of your day.

You can order waffles/a sweet dish, and you will laze around for the remainder of the afternoon until ashamedly making a "grocery run" or some other excuse to get out of the house at 6:30pm.

We had BOTH, which left us VERY CONFLICTED! We lazed around until 1pm, and then we drove out west to look at the house that the people who owned our house before us "upgraded" to when they left. Yes, we found that information.

FAILURE CITY! They "upgraded" to a smaller house, on a smaller lot, with NO backyard, NO landscaping, and (we should have seen this coming) cheaped out on details (this was obviously new construction). THEY DIDN'T STAIN THE PILLARS ON THE FRONT PORCH! It looked HORRIBLE!

"But they stayed in a swanky school district! And got to pick out their upgrades!"

Ok, they did NOT upgrade, and I could have told you that after moving into this 18 year old house which we know for a FACT they lived in for EIGHT YEARS and still had a HEARTY collection of 1990 crap (which was when the house was BUILT) decorating decisions.

While we were in new construction hell, My Best Friend and Vee took the opportunity to tour a new construction model home while I nursed Kiddo. I joined them for the second one, and got ramrodded into a "What kind of house are you looking for?! How much are you willing to spend?!" conversation by a desperate real estate agent who, even after we told her we JUST BOUGHT A HOUSE IN 2008, apparently thought we were LOOKING TO SELL AND BUY A PIECE OF NO-PRIVACY SHIT ON THE EDGE OF TOWN.

Look, if I am ever looking to spend $350,000 on a house, I can guaran-damn-tee you that I will NOT BE BUYING SOMETHING WHERE THE MASTER WINDOW IS LITERALLY 6 FEET FROM THE EDGE OF THE PROPERTY (and where the house which hasn't yet been built will almost CERTAINLY have a window peering in).

My Best Friend and I ate dinner at an "upscale Tex-Mex restaurant" that night, and got seated out on the patio with literally ALL PRIVATE PARTIES AROUND US. There was a bridal shower behind us, a 60th birthday party to our right, a bachelorette party to our left, and to our far left...PROM! Apparently it is the IN THING now to wear a jacket over your prom dress that matches your date's suit jacket...except it OBVIOUSLY ISN'T SINCE HE IS WEARING HIS. Are we trying to convince our classmates that HE'S SO INTO ME HE GAVE ME HIS JACKET WHEN I SAID I WAS COLD?

We woke up to SNOW on Sunday morning (although NOT the 3-6 inch fear factor hell we had been led to expect by weather.com; oh, weather.com, you overdramatic whore, I can count on the "projected" weather to always be at least 20% less dire than you predict) and we gorged on a farmhouse breakfast (no, seriously, I had the New York Deli omelette, which has like 12 kinds of cheese in it) after "fighting" through the "ice." I made My Best Friend a rainbow chip birthday cake with rainbow chip frosting (the ONLY kind of cake) and we went to Palm Sunday Mass. And sat in the Cry Room since Kiddo was rowdy. And watched two rowdier kids use their palms as swords to duel.

After Facebook-spying on people we used to know, we were cashed out, and spent today lounging around the house and tracking down my bluster-blown trash can (it flew TWO WHOLE BLOCKS DOWN THE ROAD! Prairie wind, hear my call!) before I brought My Best Friend back to the airport.

Miss her already!

Blog Party Music Week Friday

2009-04-03T07:22:00.006-05:00

Well, y'all, we're at the end of the line and the end of a great week of blog music picks! MUCH LOVE to Magchunk, Sweetie Pie Pumpkin Noodle, and You Are My Fave for such an awesome blog challenge--I was DELIGHTED to participate.

And now, gulp back your incredulity, and feast on these, my Best Karaoke Songs, all of which I have actually, um, karaoked to: (the two times I ever have, and HOLD ONTO YOUR SHIT, BECAUSE WE'VE GOT PICTURES)

#1: March 2005, small beer bar in the Midwest:

"Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" by Big & Rich

#2-#5: May 2007, Desert Hot Springs, the meth hellpit west of Palm Springs, California, where Vee, Shannon, Nathan, and Pete and I were the only 20-somethings for miles around. We stayed at a motel with access to the springs open 24 hours, and, yes, IT WAS KARAOKE NIGHT. With the exception of two late-30-something women and one of their scammy-looking dudes, it was JUST US AND THE KARAOKE CZAR. We kind of took over. Below is the proof.

"Bitch" by Meredith Brooks

(I know you don't believe me after seeing the clothes on the 30-something women in this picture, but I'm telling you: it was May 2007)

"Flavor of the Weak" by American Hi-Fi

"Gypsy" by Fleetwood Mac

(I think this is "Rock the Casbah" by The Clash; of course, at this point in the night, it could have been anything)

Blog Party Music Week Thursday

2009-04-02T07:52:00.009-05:00

Against reason, and against good taste, I present to you my Guilty Pleasure Songs:

"Pony" by Ginuwine

ALWAYS was carefully calibrated by my friend Nathan (who made all of the mixes for our house parties in college) to come on when I would assuredly be at my peak of drunkenness and would ALWAYS elicit a scream from me, a command for center stage, and a really raunchy routine. WHAT ELSE WOULD YOU EXPECT FROM AN "ARTIST" WHOSE NAME IS MADE UP OF 2 CHEAP FORMS OF ALCOHOL?

"Need a Boss" by Shareefa/Ludacris

My first introduction to this song was back in '07 when Vee and I were spring breaking in Boston and sharing the Lieutenant's twin bed in his dorm room (hey! We were grad students at the time; you think we could afford a hotel?). At 7am, the Lieutenant cranked this song and BLASTED THE WALLS of the place getting his dudes up and psyched for the lacrosse game later that day.

Somehow I forgave my bro-in-law for waking me up at 7am on my vacation, probably because after one more repetition made me UTTERLY LOVE THIS SONG! Probably NOTHING more than Luda's rap when he talks about "fifteen bank accts, ten different bidnesses, five different lawyers: TELL THEM WHAT THEIR BUSINESS IS!"

"Faded" by soulDecision

What is it with me and drunken anthems? MAYBE THAT THEY ARE AMAZING! He doesn't even have a prelude at the start of this song! "When I get you all alone, I'm gonna take off all your clothes."

edit: This is really embarassing. I just played it and realized that he actually says, "I'm gonna move in nice and close" instead of "I'm gonna take off all your clothes." I AM NOT THAT DIRTY, Y'ALL, I JUST THOUGHT THAT'S WHAT HE WAS SAYING!

THAT'S HOW WE GET STARTED!

The hilarious thing is LOOK AT THE DUDE WHO'S SINGING IT! Do you really feel like his blond crew-cut Zach-Morris ass could make his move on a girl who's "only a friend"?

"When the Lights Go Out" by 5ive

Ok, remember when Napster started cracking down and shutting down the amazing world of free music? (Thanks METALLICA) And when you got busted, they were kind enough to send you a note letting you know what song you had in your collection that was the culprit?

Yep. This one.

ONE OF THE MOST FORGETTABLE BOY BANDS OF THE LATE 90S! And yet! And yet!

"Yeah, Whatever" by Splender

Lily will understand this one. What can I say? It was the late 90s again, and I was totally into SCREAMING BALLADS OF INDULGENT TEENISM! And, um, still am.

YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT 'CAUSE YOU WON'T LET IT DIE!

I Wish I was April Fooling

2009-04-01T10:34:00.003-05:00

When my rentinos, Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD, were in town, we dined at a fancy restaurant out on the west side of town. Since we were DININ' OUT, I wore my favorite pair of earrings.

Hold on, I have to talk about this pair of earrings.

So I got this pair of earrings way back in November 2006 to wear to a party celebrating my marriage, and they were SOOOOOO AWESOME that I wore them all the time afterwards. This hot pair of medium-size hoops with random black beads strung through the twisted metal. They were GORGEOUS!

I felt so cool when I would wear them with "just a t-shirt and jeans." Corny, but true.

Anyway, sometime during late Dec/early Jan 2007, one of the earrings took a hike. It was MYSTERIOUS! I conducted a full-out apartment scour for it, going through boxes I knew I hadn't been in for months leading up to the Earring Disappearance. I went through my summer clothes. I went through my winter clothes. I looked in vents and under rugs. My Favorite Earrings were no longer a pair.

Having had my ears pierced for over 15 years, this was hardly the first time this had happened to me. I can count on one hand, however, the number of Lone Rangers I am still holding onto hoping beyond hope that the missing one will make its way back to me (Black enamel heart stud, wherefore went thee? Gold peace sign dangler, I am talking to you too!).

With a sigh, I consigned Favorite Earring to the jewelry box so that AT LEAST someday I could have a template for finding a replacement.

Flash forward now to Christmas 2008. In my house. Three states away from the Earring Disappearance. My parents and sister were visiting, and we had just opened presents. I started cleaning up the wrapping debris on the floor, and WHAT I SAW MADE ME START.

IT WAS THE MISSING EARRING.

Before I could breathe, I darted back to the bedroom and looked in my jewelry box.

THE LONE RANGER WAS SITTING, SADLY, WHERE I HAD LEFT IT!

I brought it out, shock and awe on my face, and reunited the sisters. TO THIS DAY, I cannot explain how the Missing Earring wound up in my house. IT WAS GONE BEFORE I WENT TO MINNESOTA FOR CHRISTMAS in 07, so it couldn't have been attached to reused Christmas wrap bags!

IT WAS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!

So, two weeks ago, I decided to give My Favorite Earrings a coming-out party and wear the pair to dinner. We were dining with Kiddo, who was grabbing them and almost pulling my earlobe into spacer-size, so I took them off and put them on the table.

You know where this is going, right?

Of course I left them there.

I finally got around to calling the restaurant this morning and GUESS WHAT THEY DIDN'T HAVE?

My Favorite Earrings.

I feel like putting out an ad and saying, "Listen West O waitress who stole my earrings, or Bus Boy who shoveled them into the dish tray when clearing the table. THESE WERE MY FAVORITE EARRINGS. I know you feel like you scored a big one when you took them, but THEY WERE FROM TARGET, ALL RIGHT? Like Mr. Wendell, that $2 meant a snack for you BUT THEY MEAN A WHOLE LOT MORE TO ME!"

Blog Party Music Week Wednesday

2009-04-01T07:56:00.004-05:00

First, I know I promised double posts this week, and you're saying "Then WHERE'S THE DOUBLE POST FROM YESTERDAY, LIAR?"

Over at kristineonseventeen, y'all! It's the first of the month! (Wake up, wake up, wake up)

Today we're getting down to songs from or used in movies:

"Love" from Robin Hood:

I want to start crying hearing this again--it was the first "love sequence" in a movie that I didn't want to fast forward, but wanted to REWIND, over and over. I LOVE this song--I wanted to play it at my wedding. This Robin Hood was also my first crush. Yes, the fox.

"I Need a Hero" from Short Circuit 2:

GOD BLESS whoever actually uploaded THIS SCENE! Not kidding you, every time I heard this song on the radio and every time I DO hear this song, I ALWAYS picture this scene. After Robin Hood, I am pretty sure Johnny 5 was my second crush.

I DIDN'T SAY I WAS SANE! I WAS 7!

"Great Southern Land" from Young Einstein

Ok, I literally have tears in my eyes listening to this again, because I used to LOVE THIS SONG so much that I would rewind and rewind and replay this part from Young Einstein over and over again. It was so EPIC!

"I'm A-Runnin" from Tommy Tricker and the Stamp Traveler

I'm revealing with this how much Disney Channel my siblings and I used to watch because if you've seen this movie, I'm amazed. This chase scene was SO AMAZING with this song and we used to replay it ad nauseum (almost as often as we would replay and act out Girls of Rock and Roll from the Chipmunk Adventure, but I'm getting off course). Anyway, it wasn't until YEARS (and we're talking like 2008) later that I remembered this song and looked it up on Youtube and realized THIS IS RUFUS WAINWRIGHT! THIS IS RUFUS WAINWRIGHT!

"The Rockafella Skank" from She's All That

OMFG! Literally like watching my fantasies about what high school dances "must be like" come to life. I love Usher's smooth dance-direction from behind the tables. If this is high school, let me go back! And dance with Freddie Prinze Jr!

Blog Party Music Week Tuesday

2009-03-31T07:32:00.002-05:00

Today's songs: take you back to jr. high and/or high school

So here we are, and I get to pull out the stops and present you with the songs that didn't make the cut on December's Mix CD Swap (which I am still planning on reviewing, DESPITE certain missing Swap Member CDs).

Hey Mr DJ by Zhane:

I was grooving my head off to this song back in sixth grade! The hilarious thing is that I TOTALLY thought it was speaking to me: "It's Friday night and the weekend's here, I need to unwind, where's the party?" Ummm, the party was A SLEEPOVER AT MY FRIEND'S HOUSE, and no DJ was needed, y'all!

Right Here by SWV:

Oh my GOD, I can't even tell you how happy hearing this song again makes me. The truth is that this song was my secret shame in middle school since it SO wasn't "cool" like the Nirvana/Stone Temple Pilots I was "supposed" to be listening to. But I'm admitting to it now, and LOVING the "Human Nature" sampling even more than I did back then.

What's the Story, Morning Glory by Oasis:

The guitar "shredding" at the beginning of the song! HIGH SCHOOL LOVE! This sounds like 7:40am, weekday morning, hopping in the Taurus and getting down 7th Street to first period. I have to confess: freshman year, at the beginning of a note to one of my friends, I wrote "What's the story, morning glory?" instead of "What's up?"

NEED A LITTLE TIME TO WAKE UP?

Nugget by Cake: (explicit)

We're confessing embarassing things? I used to crank this after school, waiting in the interminable traffic lines at South to get on my way home. WITH MY WINDOWS DOWN. I THOUGHT I WAS SO COOL!

Here With Me by Dido:

Wow. This sounds just like my junior year of high school, desperation and all. LONG-DISTANCE DATING 101: Don't do it unless YOU CAN BOTH DRIVE.

I DON'T WANT TO CALL MY FRIENDS: THEY MIGHT WAKE ME FROM THIS DREAM!

Home Show: Stick Stickley & Pee Wee Herman

2009-03-30T19:00:00.011-05:00

I was losing-my-mind delighted since our long-awaited Stickley loveseat was arriving on Friday. I say "long-awaited" because our mwomy asses special-ordered it back in February and since Stickley hand-builds each piece of furniture, we had to wait for some Upstate-r to whittle it. And upholster it.

I was bouncing off the walls when the delivery guys called at 9:10am and said they were on their way. I cheerily got the Kiddo up from her crib and met the doorbell.

To find the guy carrying two pillows upholstered in this:

If you know my style AT ALL, you will understand why I almost vommed and asked the guy, "Umm, that's not the upholstery on the LOVESEAT, is it?"

It was.

So I spent the rest of the morning cursing out Stickley, the furniture place, and our saleslady since I was unsure who was to blame for this FATAL ERROR. Customer service at the furniture place called me back and announced that IT WAS STICKLEY'S FAULT (???) and that new cushions were ordered. And would arrive in 2-3 weeks. So until then, we could keep the loveseat + cushions at our house.

I sighed and let the man bring it back.

So, with this placeholder installed in our living room, I started checking out the piece of furniture, because it's pretty nice lookin'. Look at that side paneling!

As I was examining the back, I stopped dead in my tracks.

IS THAT A DENT?! Yes, y'all, it was a dent.

I'm a pretty forgiving person. But not when I spend a huge chunk of my economic stimulus on a custom-built piece of furniture that comes with a dent I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO MAKE.

Upon deeper inspection along the bottom inside of the loveseat, I uncovered ANOTHER DIRTY SECRET:

No, not part of the "handmade" quality. A crack. A big crack. In the foundation of the piece.

Why was I so upset? Not only because MY FURNITURE WAS BROKE and MY UPHOLSTERY WAS WRONG, but because I knew IT WOULD TAKE ANOTHER 6-8 WEEKS TO GET A NEW ONE!

I fussed and fumed the rest of Friday night when Vee got home, and he went in to the furniture place today and talked to customer service. We're getting a replacement, thankfully. In 6-8 weeks.

BUT ON TO BRIGHTER HOME SHOW ITEMS which I have not talked about yet! (And NO, it's STILL not time to show off the kitchen or the bathroom paint jobs since there are just a COUPLE of little changes I still need to make before they're Home Show ready)

Tuesday night, I met Vee downtown at the antique mall to do a little browsing. We were still on the hunt for dining room chairs and other randoms. WHAT DID I FIND?

Herman. Miller. Eames. Chairs.

The exact color we needed. Four of them.

How much were they listed for? $145. FOR ALL FOUR.

Why is this amazing? BECAUSE A BRAND NEW UN-UPHOLSTERED HERMAN MILLER EAMES SHELL CHAIR GOES FOR $250. FOR ONE!

Yes, these ones need reupholstering. Or just need the upholstery ripped off, since the base and frame are in good shape. But I COULDN'T PASS UP THE DESIGN, so off I sent Vee to buy them on Thursday night.

He came home with all four. AND ONLY PAID $100!

DEAL OF THE CENTURY! Or mid-century. HA HA.

Blog Party Music Week Monday

2009-03-30T08:10:00.003-05:00

Double-posting all week, since there's a great blog challenge I'm delighted to have found and I've got to TELL you about all the furniture drama in our household.

But first:

Today's songs are songs that put a smile on your face and can totally turn your mood around, which is JUST WHAT I NEED to kick off this spring-time!

Lowdown by Boz Scaggs (I think we all knew I was going here)

Hot N Cold by Katy Perry (My love for this song is pretty irrational since I REALLY, REALLY hate "I Kissed a Girl," but Kiddo and I lose it and rock out when it comes on)

Shake It by Metro Station (if we're doing irrational pop love, I have to include this since I have been STOPPING EVERYTHING I AM DOING and dancing out of control every time this song has come on since summer '08)

Honky Tonk Man by Dwight Yoakam (just love)

Rough Justice by the Rolling Stones (NEVER GROW OUT OF YOUR CORNY SEXUAL INNUENDOES, BOYS! Please!)

I've got to limit it to five, because otherwise I can go on this all day.

Wanna add to the list or play along? Check out the rules here, here, or here.

Places I Have Been: Library Lapsit

2009-03-25T20:06:00.002-05:00

For babies! For babies!

The Kiddo has made her own nap/waking schedule as her cute little vampire teeth come in (she's got the bottom front two, and RANDOMLY, her top two canines are coming in) and since she's up at 8:30am now, I decided we should try going to the library lapsit storytime at 10am.

Because I am Semper Paratus, we got to the library parking lot at 9:51am. Cars were pouring in and parking, but no one was getting out yet. "Weird," I thought to myself as I got in the backseat and started strapping Kiddo into the Beco, "I didn't realize how many suburban moms come to this thing."

I looked up at the front door and watched an old man try to open it. To no avail. It dawned on me that the joint must open at 10am. Meanwhile, cars continue to fill up this parking lot (are there THAT many people with nothing to do on a Wednesday morning but go the library?) and no one gets out. Finally, I guess it must have hit 10am because three or four brave souls started pulling the doors and a harassed-looking library staffer came running from inside and unlocked them.

We got into lapsit and I had to fill out my name and Kiddo's name on a green frog, which was then taped to my shirt. Kiddo sat in a circle on a little carpet sample square (REMEMBER THOSE??) and I sat behind her. There were around 10 other moms/grammas and kids, plus the librarian. Bless the librarian for trying, but she kept talking in this 'ittle wittle voice as she read the first book (about springtime coming in both English and Spanish) and I realized we were gonna be listening to this someone-told-me-this-is-how-you-talk-to-children voice the whole time.

Now, I do my share of voices with the Kiddo. For some reason utterly unknown to me, I affect this absurd ghetto-talian tone when checking her diaper (and always ask "Do you have a dirrrrrty d?" Like someday she will respond.). I also spoke in the ghetto-talian voice when she used to sit in the swing and I would kiss her feet while declaring, "Mmmm, baby feet-a! I love to eat-a baby feet-a!"

I didn't say I was perfect.

But I do always read to her in a normal voice. I can't expect my daughter to be The Youngest Reader Ever if she can't understand what a word is supposed to sound like. I do inflections and everything with different characters, but I don't talk in itty-bitty silly-willy baby voice.

The librarian did.

There was a break between La Primavera and the second book about a bunny (which involved the librarian roaming around with a bunny puppet on her hand, "talking" to each of the kids [in ittle-wittle voice, of course]) where two inflatable beach balls were tossed into the ring, with the understanding that the babies would bat them to each other. Obviously, our kids don't have motor control when they're IN LAPSIT, so it was really all the moms holding their kids' hands and trying to "push" the ball while apologizing to the librarian, who had to keep it in motion.

After the bunny book, there was "music time" (I THOUGHT THIS WAS LAPSIT STORYTIME?) where a bin of noise-shakers were brought out and the kids got to make music while hits like "Funga Alafia" were played.

Kiddo just tried to eat her shaker and stuff it on her teething gums.

Then we were shoveled out so toddler storytime could commence! Twenty short minutes of two books, a beachball scene, and Funga Alafia.

Home Show: Book It

2009-03-24T20:24:00.006-05:00

I forgot to mention that we didn't ACTUALLY get a tornado in our 'hood yesterday, but the newscasters would make you think otherwise during the HOT COVERAGE. The weatherpeople really ramp up the rhetoric once the National Weather Service tosses out a warning, and even when you could clearly see on the Doppler radar that the worst of the storm was past, the weather guy was still trying to make it sound like "Well, you just don't know!"

No, I do know, and now I'm going upstairs to take a shower.

The faux-nado left a trail of COLD TEMPS behind it, which totally threw me for a loop today. I don't know what I was planning on doing outside the house with Kiddokabiddo, but with my warm winter jacket packed away (IT WAS 60 FOR A WEEK STRAIGHT, Y'ALL!), we didn't get outside at all. The Kiddo's new nap schedule (TWO AND A HALF WHOLE HOURS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON!) also screwed with things. I was left with nothing to do but to read the newest copy of "Budget Travel" magazine and bake apple cake.

Oh yeah, and I got our bookshelves organized.

We moved a second bookshelf upstairs, and even though all three bookshelves are HEAVILY overflowing, even when they're filled to capacity (and my definition of "capacity" is wall-to-wall, plus stacked on top of the rows), I decided to try my hand at DECORATIVE BOOK-SHELVING.

This is to say: I left space on the shelves.

What do you think?

I left the bottom two shelves on both empty since that's going to be primo Kiddo height and we're going to bring out her books to put on those, and I still need/want to put crap on the sides of the shelves (should I??), but that's it. Here's a close up:

I had a great time organizing them and coming up with weird themes like "books about school" and "books about the desert West," as well as designating a whole shelf for "books by my favorite authors ever" (that's the shelf on the bottom of the last pic: singles by Anne Sexton, Jo Ann Beard, Charles Baxter, and Lauren Groff, and then my collections of Margaret Atwood, Sherman Alexie, Annie Proulx, and Kathryn Harrison [the latter of whom is not one of my favorite authors ever, yet I happen to have almost all of her books]).

It was funny as I was weeding through what books would stay and which ones would go downstairs. I was trying to keep books that I read frequently so it would be easy to have my faves on hand when I needed a new book to read before going to sleep, but I TOTALLY was lying to myself when I brought down books like "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" and my inherited Jodi Picoult collection. I WAS TRYING TO LOOK COOL BY HIDING AWAY THE BOOKS SOCIETY HAS DEEMED "UNCOOL!"

At least I left "Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason" up.

thrift tornado

2009-03-23T19:47:00.008-05:00

This is why I was trying to blog every day: good night, it feels like I've got a million things to talk about.

I'll start by recapping Thursday.

After I blogged and worked, I took Kiddo out thrift-shopping at a couple of places. I figured that I would GET THE EDGE over the weekend-shoppers by going on Thursday; this may have been the case. My first stop was New Life Thrift, which has a "new life" by its location in one of those brand-new, 30%-filled, strip malls. Lots of crap like new "shampoo" and stuff that you get the feeling was offloaded by Big Lots, and it was manned by a fifteen year old and her mom. At 11:00am on a Thursday.

I found these two scarves:

Cost? $1 each, which is pretty jank by thrift store standards (they should have been MAYBE fifty cents a piece, but who was I to argue with a high schooler in a position of authority?).

At our second stop, Thrift America, I found this AWESOME cadre of cards (at a premium price of $0.28/each):

Need a closer look? I figured you would. Check out this masterpiece:

??? !!! ???

Furthermore, looking to congratulate someone on their reincarnation birthday? Have I got the card for you!

Yipes.

So, anyway, with my thrift store finds socked away at home, we got ready for my parents, Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD who came to visit us this weekend. That's a WHOLE SEPARATE POST since I have mad home improvement pics to show you.

Here's the teaser: kitchen, cabinets, bathroom, walls.

I've been cleaning up and still putting things back in their rightful positions today, but we got our first TORNADO WARNING OF THE SEASON at 5:15 this afternoon! Vee wasn't home yet, so I frantically called him to get his ass in gear.

March is a LITTLE early for this, but IT'S THE PAYOFF FOR WINTER-B-GONE!

Encounter: Knitting Mom Friend

2009-03-19T09:19:00.004-05:00

Fiftieth post today! Hurray!

Yesterday, I met up with a mom friend of mine at the Mecca of Hip Moms, Whole Foods. Because Vee and I are nothing if not organically-MINDED and eager to spend our money on "XXXX-free" products to keep Kiddokabiddo from being overrun with random hormones, phlalates, etc., I bought her some special baby sunscreen.

And then couldn't resist getting a PAIR OF ROBEEZ!

80S ROLLER SKATING QUEEN!

Yep, I spent $28 on a pair of shoes for my 9.5 month old. But she's still in the 0-6 month size with LOTS OF TOE ROOM, so I am counting on shoes lasting this littlefoot a long time.

As I proudly showed my mom friend my new purchase, she mentioned, "Didn't babysteals have Robeez on sale today?"

I ALMOST SHOT MYSELF IN THE FACE.

See, I GO TO BABYSTEALS EVERY DAY. The one day I didn't go is THE ONE DAY THEY HAD THE SHOES I HAD PUT OFF BUYING FOR THEIR EXPENSE.

Naturally, they were all gone by the time I got home. And had already spent $28.

My mom friend has a daughter who is 4 days younger than Kiddo, and so we have a good time talking about our daughters' growth patterns and catching up on other mom info. She had knitted Kiddokabiddo a BEAUTIFUL sweater (pics later) and it made me realize that knitting is SO the new hip mom thing. WHICH I CANNOT DO.

I am so non-sewing-adept that when I need to fix a button on a shirt, I wait until we're going to see Vee's grandma (a sewing WIZARD!) and ask her to do it.

Is knitting in my future? It would be hella cheaper than buying millions of more pairs of longies for the Kiddo. Can anyone convince me this is possible?

Places I Have Been: Fo Fo

2009-03-17T21:14:00.006-05:00

Another beautiful day outside, so Kiddo and I got out and enjoyed it! Today's sunscreen adventure was to a little place we call Fo Fo.

Fo Fo is a privately owned park on the bluffs at the edge of town; a year long membership only costs $50. I know, you're thinking, "SHE PAYS $50 TO GO TO A FREAKING PARK?" Let me explain why this actually rules.

It keeps the riffraff out. RIFFRAFF WILL NOT PAY $7 A DAY/$50 A YEAR TO GET IN AND HARASS YOU
There is a big long boardwalk that goes for a whole mile, so when it's muddy out, you can still walk around (and when it's NOT muddy, there are miles and miles of trails)
YOU GET VISTAS ONLY SEEN FROM THE PRIVATE RESIDENCES ALONG THE BLUFFS!

Vee and I have been going here since we first lived in our town, and we looooooove it. I got mad cravings for Fo Fo when we were living in Michigan. The prairie wind whips around when you get up on the top of the bluffs and YOU FEEL VERY LEWIS-AND-CLARKY.

Kiddo's first excursion out of the house was to Fo Fo.

I can't believe I seriously just showed you that picture. I was like twelve days post-delivery. (AND I TOO WAS A STROLLER PUSHER! Don't let my proselytizing make you think I always saw the light)

Anyway, Fo Fo is near and dear to my heart, so I was thrilled to meet up with a couple of moms from my babywearing board and show them the joys of Fo Fo this afternoon. We did a couple of laps and then hung out at the very same picnic table pictured below and nursed our kidlets.

(Kiddo was four months old in this pic)

I love being with like-minded moms. As I was tonight, since it was La Leche night! Vee "puttered around like an old man" while we were gone and organized the garage.

Where are your favorite places to go when you want to get outside and don't want to walk around a confusing "outdoor mall"?

Weekend Revel: BUSY, BUSY, BUSY

2009-03-16T20:12:00.003-05:00

This past weekend was a birthday blitz for Vee! He turned 27 on Friday, and we celebrated by having dinner at our neighbor's house--don't worry, we observed Meatless Fridays. It was easy since THEY ARE VEGETARIANS! We had a great vegetable soup, and then I made Vee a H0MEMADE CHOCOLATE CAKE. With homemade frosting! No boxes, y'all!

Betty Crocker delivers!

Saturday morning, we headed down to our state's capital, home of the nearest Guitar Center, so that Vee could buy himself a birthday present: A NEW TRAVEL GUITAR! It was so nice we ended up staying there for the day, and I bought more new jeans with the Gap Friends & Family weekend deal. Which was neither for friends nor family, but for ALL HUMANS since they were handing out the "exclusive" postcard with the discount code on it at the store.

We churched it on Sunday, did a deep clean of the house, and then had friends over for dinner. BURGERS ON THE GRILL! Because it was amazingly nice out! Their daughter, who is 9 months older than Kiddokabiddo, was a guinea pig for how well our house is NOT babyproofed. She almost ran down the split entry stairs. And she taught Kiddo how to put the rings on the ring-stacker, and left behind two bounce-pit balls.

I tried to take the Kiddokabiddo to the zoo today since it was 75 and sunny, but that place was OVERRUN with families and elementary-school-age children since (I guess) school was out today. We went to Memorial Park instead and I did a lap, then came home and, for the first time, we went to the park that is caticorner from our house.

YES, FOR THE FIRST TIME! Hey, she's only NOW getting to be old enough to appreciate it!

We tried the baby swing, but she didn't care. And I held her and went down two slides, but she just looked up at me like "Why, Mom? Why do people do this?" So we came back across the street.

It has been really busy in our house the last few days as we prepare for Gramma Goose and Grampa PhD to come visit this weekend. They're going to help us paint our kitchen, breakfast nook, AND bathroom. And help us install new handles on the kitchen cabinets. And move and anchor another bookshelf upstairs.

WHEN YOU VISIT OUR HOUSE, YOU WORK!

Places I Have Been: Alfred Jacob Miller SHOWTIME

2009-03-12T19:24:00.003-05:00

I took the Kiddo and met Vee midday at the art museum again today since it was still pretty cold out, and we finally got to see an Alfred Jacob Miller exhibit I've been waiting to get to. They had a really interesting presentation of three versions of "The Trapper's Bride"

This is the original edition. Now check out the later edition:

It's like playing "One of these things is not like the other one": RACIST EDITION.

I'll spell out the big changes for you.

the guy on the horse (which changed to a grittier white) lost his headdress and just got one droopy feather, and the spear went from an antagonistic pointed-at-the-groom to being slung behind him (and a half-naked young hottie is now holding back the horse
another tepee was added, and the first tepee is now being constructed rather than being finished
the sky behind the tepee/Indian side became ominously dark (representing how the Indian bride is progressing from the "dark" to the "light")
the Americanized Indians by the tepee turned into a motley crew of natives
the guy offering the peace pipe to the groom (who was not even offering it to him in the first version) underwent a massive change from an older, passive man to a brazen young brave half-naked
the guy facilitating the "transfer" (the man with his hand on the bride's shoulder)'s hand went from openly passing between the bride and groom to holding back Peace Pipe Man
the groom's breeches went from leather to a more civilized broadcloth

There are more changes than that, but the thing is that there was a THIRD version bridging the gap between these two; I was FASCINATED by this and Vee had to leave me staring at them. I would say Kiddo cared, but she just wanted to keep crowing "A-da-da!" after Vee left.

WHAT WAS AJM SAYING WITH HIS LATER REVISION OF THIS PAINTING?

Discuss.

Home Show: KITCHN FASCINATION

2009-03-11T20:52:00.004-05:00

Winter snapped in my face today (ZERO DEGREES! How DARE IT?! It's MARCH! This sort of behavior I expected when we were in MICHIGAN, but not here!) so I didn't want to take the Kiddo out since her little eczema would get wind-whipped and chapped.

We stayed in, and I schemed of ways to change my house.

In particular, my kitchen.

I really don't like my kitchen. There's nothing "wrong" with it...except the fact that it was made in 1990 and is the farthest thing from ME that you could find. Oak cabinets with busted rubbed-off brassy handles, light blue countertop, mismatched black-and-white appliances, and white tile backsplash. Oh yeah, and wood laminate flooring.

What should my kitchen look like?

(taken from the kitchn)

Oh my God, I have been losing my head over this photo. THIS IS WHAT I WAS MEANT TO BAKE IN! (note that I do not say "cook." VEE COOKS, I BAKE)

I want the birch cabinets, the simple handles, the GREEN WALLS! I do not want the black countertop, but we can talk.

(taken from the kitchn)

I was also meant to live in this kitchen, mainly because WE HAVE THAT EXACT SILVER SHELVING UNIT IN OUR KITCHEN! Why did I not think of grouping colors cutely on it, TO SAY NOTHING of failing to hang pretty towels and HOOKS TO HANG MUGS?!

Finally, I am supposed to have this kitchen as well.

(taken, you guessed it, from the kitchn)

THE CEILING BEAMS! I am drooling and adoring. And loving the orange. The Kitchn is basically Cosmo for homeowners: filled with "new tricks" that you WANT to learn and WANT to be able to do, but know you have neither the energy nor the ingenuity to come up with your own.

HOPEFULLY I WILL CHANGE! I took off for Lowe's and came home with paint samples, which I am making Vee stare at until his eyes cross (and he's just trying to leave for an Open Mike Night. What is more important, hypothetical wall colors or LIVE MUSIC?). Next week, I hope I'll have some before-and-afters to show you!

Encounter: Dermatologist DUH

2009-03-11T08:31:00.003-05:00

Sorry for the lack of blog yesterday; I've been having problems with my Google Analytics and was working with that over the evening.

DON'T WORRY: DOUBLE-POST TODAY!

I had to run Kiddokabiddo out to a DERMATOLOGIST yesterday to have her little skin rash checked out. A dermatologist! I'VE never even been to a dermatologist! Vee has, but every time he went as a teen, they removed another "pre-cancerous" mole and gave him a 4" long scar. He looks very tough now.

SO: to the dermatologist we went! Within 30 seconds of the derm entering the room, she murmured to the nurse, "Bring the atopic dermatitis information," which made me almost cringe since, yes, my fear was confirmed: IT WAS JUST BAD ECZEMA.

We went to a dermatologist to find out my daughter has ECZEMA! DUH! Like the cartoon on the wall of the room astutely noted, "The internet already told me what's wrong with me; I'm just here for a second opinion."

So my little babe is getting steroid cream (STEROID CREAM!), special creamy body wash, and a ridiculously overpriced tub of fragrance-free cream that I am supposed to slather on her four times a day.

Combined with the topical antibiotic cream we tried two weeks ago and the oral antibiotic regimen we're finishing up this week, that makes three prescriptions in one month for the little one.

THAT'S WHY WE HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE!

Weekend Revel: Thrifting

2009-03-09T19:39:00.010-05:00

Hope y'all had a great weekend--mine was BUSY!

Friday night was Mom's Night Out--I wish I could tell you that I hung out with moms, but actually I WENT TO THE MALL ALONE and did some speed-shopping. Most disturbing sight of the night was a t-shirt at Wet Seal.

Ice cream sundae pictured, with a smiling cherry and the words "I prefer to be on top!" gleefully scrawled across the shirt.

I was so disturbed I turned on my heel and left the store, instantly calling my best friend to share in the agony.

Oh my God, my poor little Kiddokabiddo, PLEASE tell me the hypersexualization of children will be done by the time you're old enough to pick your own clothing.

Saturday morning, well, that was MOM'S MORNING OUT! (I know, can you believe it? Vee gave me both an evening out and a MORNING OUT! It was Dad/Daughter time while I was gone)

I did something I've been meaning to do for months now: THRIFT STORE SHOPPING!

I got the Kiddo nursed, grabbed a to-go mug of coffee, and got in the little 'Rage, packing some non-Vee-friendly tunes. First stop was a Salvation Army I'd never been to. It was 10:45am, a little chilly and rainy, and when I saw that housewares were 50% off, there was no way I couldn't bring home this beauty (marked for only $2.99!):

Isn't it great? The dude is cooking indoors, which you can only tell by the awkwardly placed shelf of beer steins over his shoulder, and the weird location of the ping-pong table. You know, so you can flip some meat over to the kiddies during the game. The guy's face is actually very weirdly feminized, and combined with his "dress"/apron and the UPSIDE-DOWN PINK TRIANGLE tossed on the apron, you have to wonder what the designer of this image was trying to connote.

I went up and naturally couldn't resist the kids' book section, where I found this marvel:

IT'S ABOUT A 14 YEAR OLD GIRL OBSESSED WITH ASTROLOGY, which is basically A BOOK ABOUT 14 YEAR OLD ME, with the exception that she's a Leo and thinks Leo is the best sign (DUH, imbeciles, Cancer is DEFINITELY cooler than Leo. You missed out on that one by about a month, honey).

The kids' books were $0.59, so combined with my 50%-off platter, I queued up at the register, ready to fork over my $2.09.

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER.

I guess I forgot to mention that I was wearing a dress purchased on Mom's Night Out at Forever 21, combined with a pair of skinny jeans. Did I look like I needed a discount? DID I LOOK LIKE I WAS BUYING A CHILDREN'S BOOK? (one of my HUGEST PET PEEVES EVER about thrifting; one I have never gotten used to. JUST BECAUSE I AM NOT 14 DOES NOT MEAN THAT THE BOOK I AM BUYING WAS OUT OF THE ADULTS SECTION! IT IS A CHILD'S BOOK; CHARGE ME THE CHILD'S BOOK PRICE!)

The cashier gave me that "Ugh, YOU LITTLE HIPSTER FRAUD, coming in here and stealing merchandise that you KNOW should be worth more; you're lucky I'm even letting you BUY this" glare and charged me $4.98; NO HALF-OFF DISCOUNT for the houseware and $0.99 for the book (ADULT BOOK PRICE).

I didn't have the strength to argue with her, so I just sighed and gave her a five. And hoped the thrift karma would come back to me.

Over the next two hours, I spun through five more thrift shops and one antiques store, coming away with the following treasures...

Gleaned from St. Vincent de Paul (for a TOTAL of $0.53):

and

bought solely for the title, yet the storyline sounds AMAZING!

ONLY BECAUSE JANET IS NO FEMINIST, she is permitted to join the Harvard English department!

At my favorite old-lady thrift shop, I got the following for $2.60 (the card was $0.10, the book was on half-off sale [a SALE THEY ACTUALLY LET ME HAVE] for $2.50:

GOOD NIGHT! What is this card SAYING? So she is ignoring her kids in order to achieve in the working world, but then SHE WON'T UNTIE THEM FROM HER APRON STRINGS? I don't UNDERSTAND!

This is a beautiful first edition from 1909--and the story sounds AWESOME!!! I can't wait to read it!

Three FAILURES later (a dumb Assistance thrift shop where all these uncool 60-something bitches dumped off their unfashionable 80s workwear and think it's still worth money, a frightening Methodist thrift shop with a homeless dude asking the old lady clerk to let him know when something arrives; when she said "Why don't you give us a call later in the week?" he said, "I ain't got no phone!" in a very offended tone, and a pointless 2nd St Vincent de Paul which yielded nothing at all), I decided to go to this antiques store that I was interested in.

WHICH FOUND ME THIS GUY FOR $0.25!

What's really cool about it? Check out the "background map" up close:

THAT'S MY HIGH SCHOOL 'HOOD, Y'ALL! TURKEY RUN! The Haute is approximately the bottom left corner of that U!

I would say my thrift karma got paid back.

WRAP!

2009-03-06T09:05:00.005-06:00

Like previous Fridays (I swear, this was not a theme when I started out. Do I do this because it's Friday and I figure that whatever ire I stir up will be gone by the time I'm back on Monday? Because I'm freeing myself for a weekend of bougie buying by declaring my non-bougie lifestyle choices?), this one is another HOT TOPIC!

BABY CARRYING!

As you've read, I usually carry the Kiddokabiddo in a carrier (recently, a Beco) when we are out and about.

My current reasoning is fivefold:

She is THRILLED to be in there (usually grinning her head off)

She easily takes naps in one (as she did for a skeptical crowd at a baby shower in the Vee Homeland)

Hands-free for Mom

Snuggle-time (far preferable to impersonal facing-away-from-Mom strollers)

THEY'RE FREAKING ADORABLE

When Kiddokabiddo was littler, we used to carry her mainly in a Sleepy Wrap.

These are amazing when you have a snugglebug who needs to be close to Mom (OR DAD! The best thing about wraps are their HUMAN VERSATILITY--one size fits all and since you're wrapping it on yourself, there need be no 'weird accommodations' for differences in size). Purportedly you can nurse in them; this was a little hard for me. But since we were using the Sleepy Wrap in the summer, it was so hot I wanted to strip off all encumbrances.

Now, it's BECO CITY and there is nothing better than strapping the little bambina on my back, or on my front, and heading out into the world. EASY, PLEASY, and no wrangling a stroller.

As I did yesterday at the zoo.

Oh my gosh, what a stupid hassle. Not only was the stroller TOO SHORT FOR ME (dudes, I'm only 5'8". SORRY IF I'M NOT A SHORT MWOM!), but the stroller height was too small for the Kiddokabiddo to be able to see any animals, so I kept finding myself stopping the stroller, leaning it against the railing (SINCE IT WOULD TIP OVER THE MINUTE I TOOK KIDDO OUT), unstrapping her, and holding her on my hip to show her the little buddies.

Completely negating the "ease" of the stroller.

Moms, it's not a "new" thing, but until your little one is running around regularly, seriously invest in a carrier. And use it. And leave that stroller at home. If you tried it and your baby "didn't like it" or "fussed the whole time," try another kind. Wraps, structured soft carriers (like the Beco), ring slings--there's a whole world waiting for you. Trust me, your baby wants to be close to you while you two explore, not stuck in a stroller.

All Original Photos!

2009-03-05T19:29:00.010-06:00

I'm still working on my blog template; bear with me. I might be a tech girl at work, but I haven't had to work on HTML layouts before!

So you want to see the new bedroom stuff. I had to do a frantic clean since I had strewn my underwear all over the bed as I decided, "Hmmm, which drawer do I want to put this in? SO MANY OPTIONS!" It's sad when I am this excited about REARRANGING MY DRESSER DRAWER CONTENTS.

Without further adieu, for your peering pleasure:

Now, um, you know where I sleep.

Isn't the wood on those dressers/headboard FANTASTIC? Here's a close-up:

Geez, after showing you my bedroom, I now feel compelled to list all the changes we want to make. In no particular order...

repaint walls (I am thinking of a MOSSY GREEN or BRIGHT PINK. Thoughts?)
get wall art (I really want wall decals from Elephannie, particularly this or this)
new, non-total-light-eliminating blinds (this was TOTALLY my mistake--we had these gross light green ones left from the previous owners and for some dumb reason, EVEN THOUGH Vee was using every trick in the book to prove to me that I DID NOT WANT TO CANCEL OUT ALL LIGHT, I still forced us to get these. WRONGLY.)
some sort of window treatments (again, too much dumb-curtaining in this house made me strip off all curtains. I need something, but not a "pouf" of fabric at the top. Any suggestions?)
new rugs (corny and GRODY old ones from Target currently grace our bedsides. Ugh.)

"Wait, wait!" I can hear you saying to yourself, "Didn't they get a futon too?"

You want to see a pic of that thing?

GUESS WHOSE FUTON WAS SITTING IN THE COBWEBS OF THE FURNITURE STORE FOR 29 YEARS, causing the bolts to RUST?

(this is not an art installation; this is the frustrated state we left the futon in once we realized we needed new bolts)

Vee is harassing the shit out of the furniture people and threatening to charge them for the "five dollars" worth of new bolts we're going to have to buy. I DON'T CARE, I JUST WANT IT DONE!

To get out of our house today, the Kiddo and I hied our way to the zoo again, and we got to see the giraffes, a brown bear, the sea lions, and a baby penguin waddling around on the main area, supervised by a zoo employee. Why the zoo again? Here's a hint--this is our thermostat. AT 7:30PM (and NO, I did not turn it on at all today! Such an accusation!)

Seriously. It was 70 and sunny all day. Beautiful. We met Vee after work and walked across The Bridge of Unity (spanning our state and our neighboring state). I tried to make Vee play the "Which side of the bridge did these people originate from?" game, but he wanted no part of my social judgment.

Oh yeah--and my new Beco arrived today! We can return the old one to the girl I have been borrowing it from, and next time you see a pic of Kiddokabiddo strapped in, she'll be strapped into THIS:

Furniture and Old El Paso

2009-03-04T19:25:00.003-06:00

FURNITURE DAY!

The kind boys at our furniture store delivered:

1 queen headboard/bed frame
2 tall dressers
1 futon

SHAZAM! Our bedroom looks like adults sleep here! So tell me why, after taking forever to afford/decide/pick out bedroom furniture and FINALLY getting it up, WHY is the only thing I can think "WE NEED TO REPAINT OUR WALLS!"

Indecision!

I solidly love our new furniture, though. Vee and I will be putting together the futon/frame after we put the Kiddokabiddo down to sleep tonight. Hopefully our basement will be INVITING ENOUGH TO GUESTS (who don't fit in the guest room. So, um, two sets of guests at the same time).

I ran to Target tonight to pick up some stupid little things (new razors, Zone bars, refried beans, beer: you know, the usual) and as I was checking out, the checkout guy commented on my refried beans by announcing, "Ah, I used to live in Old El Paso!" As I thought to myself, "Is there an OLD El Paso, or does he mean El Paso, Texas? Or DID HE LIVE IN THE PLACE WHERE "Old El Paso" REFRIED BEANS ARE MADE?" he quickly continued on his own narrative, exclaiming that "It was a lot sunnier there" and THEN! THEN! Checkout Guy started going into a routine about how "It was sunnier than Oregon. Not that I lived there, but they get a lot of rain there," and devolved into a self-taught lesson about weather.

WHY DID HE MENTION OREGON?

I kept thinking this to myself as I murmured weather-related comments as he sacked my stuff. Because I was wearing a bright green pea coat which indicated I am a Duck Fan? (For the record, this is not true. My daddy might have a PhD from UofO, but we are BEAVERS TO THE CORE!) Because I "look like the sort of person who once lived in Oregon?" (A true fact, but not one easily betrayed by my mien)

Old El Paso. Oregon. Not even in the same general vicinity. And not anywhere near where we live.

Just curious.

sent to the "principal's office" (also known as: neighborhood court)

2009-03-03T18:47:00.004-06:00

Hey guys! Sorry I EVADED a post last night--we had just gotten back from our trip to the Vee Homeland and I was wiped.

And Vee was furiously shoveling the sidewalk since WE GOT WRITTEN UP for having failed to shovel the 3" of snow off "CITY PROPERTY" within 24 hours of snowfall.

We were out of town! Not an excuse!

I can only imagine what our immaculately-scraped-driveway-next-door-neighbor was thinking to himself. You've got to know this man--when we got 7" of snow the other week, he was out there MIDWAY THROUGH THE PROJECTED SNOWFALL shoveling the driveway. To what end? IT KEPT SNOWING, OF COURSE, and obliterated his work!

Anyway, the Kiddo's first plane flight was a success (can't say the same for her second plane flight, on the way home, when she fussed until I nursed her down. YES, I nursed her on the plane BOTH on the way there AND on the way home. This is why nursing at 9 months rocks: I don't know what the HELL I would have done if I couldn't have pacified her at the breast. For the record, we also nursed in the airport. GIT R DONE)

Our trip up north was great; Vee's parents babysat the Kiddo on Sunday night and Vee and I got to go on AN ADULT DATE! Oh yeah: I FORGOT ABOUT THOSE. We went to this hilariously expensive restaurant downtown which was, naturally, pretty abandoned, with it being Sunday night, in the Land of Recession. If you were going to bling it out and be seen at the place, you were def saving your dollars for Friday or Saturday night when others were around. Vee and I? We were just grateful for the alone time!

Our server upsold us on the wine (in the face of the Recession State we just traveled from, it would be uncouth to mention how much we paid. Let's just say: MORE THAN WE HAVE PAID FOR DINNER IN THE LAST SIX MONTHS) and I chowed down on tempura sushi while Vee had a noodle bowl. It was awesome! When we packed away the last of our ginger creme brulee, Vee drove us down into the Heart of Death and Destruction, where the recession has hit the hardest. Still such a beautiful city.

Unfortunately, Kiddokabiddo's little bacterial infection at the base of her neck hasn't gone away with the topical antibiotics, so tonight we had to give her her first oral antibiotics. Let's get that immune system weakening!

For a little self-promotion, if you're still distraught over my day-of-no-post yesterday, hop over and check out my other blog.

the thrill is still brand new!

2009-02-27T08:50:00.003-06:00

Can I still say how much I love Boz Scaggs? Vee downloaded our favorite album, the one we had on vinyl (ugh, that sounds so UNBEARABLY hipsterish--we didn't look for it ON VINYL, we happened upon the record one day in a thrift shop back in college and bought it), "Down Two Then Left."

I dare you to play this song:

Now, didn't you find yourself grooving back and forth in your seat?

YOU DID! IT'S OK!

I worked my head off on the seventeen blog last night--stay patient, devotees, it WILL return at midnight sharp on the 1st of March! I think my favorite part of writing that blog is allowing myself to return to my obsession with self during my teen years--when everything was SO IMPORTANT and SO DRAMATIC and everything that REMOTELY happened to me was SO POIGNANT AND IMPACTED ME!

That, and reviewing articles that had subconsciously found their way into my psyche, and when I read a line and realize that IT WAS THE FOUNDATION FOR WHY I THOUGHT __X__. Terrifying how strong the print media was on my developing self. OH, PRINT MEDIA! It's all going to be internet-based for Kiddokabiddo, isn't it?

So: later today, Vee, Kiddokabiddo, and I are going to be flying the snow-friendly skies to the Vee Homeland for a long weekend. Wish us luck with Kiddokabiddo's poor little ear pressure. When Vee woke her up this morning (STTN! Bless her!) for her morning feeding, she was sleeping ON HER STOMACH! This baby has been rolling like crazy for the last two days, but to find her ON HER STOMACH? Asleep?

This urban warrior's got to get back to packing. See you on Monday!

black is the new...strike that, black is never new.

2009-02-26T14:21:00.003-06:00

When was the last time you took a critical look at your closet?

I'm actually not on a "spring cleaning" bend here; I mean when was the last time you thought about what your closet is comprised of?

I've been packing for our trip to the Vee Homeland, and while this is PROBABLY OBVIOUS TO EVERYONE WHO KNOWS ME OFF THE INTERNET, I realized that

MY WARDROBE CONSISTS ALMOST ENTIRELY OF BLACK.

When I vary from my favorite shade, it's to dark grays, dark greens, dark purples, and dark blues. Good night. I didn't realize MY WARDROBE WAS AS SOMBER AS IT IS! I was trying to get together an outfit to wear to Vee's second cousin's baby shower, and everything I was trying on was SUPER SOMBER and not at all "baby shower appropriate."

To be fair, I haven't hauled out the spring stuff yet (it's not QUITE that consistently warm here), but when I do, I know I'm going to find a couple of light green sweaters, and a couple of baby pink shirts.

AND A LOT OF "SUMMER BLACK."

I don't know what I am trying to accomplish with this--Goth Mom? "Black is the new skinny"? Or, God help me, is it the old "urban sophisticate" look I tried to cultivate back in fourth grade when I wore black knit stirrup pants, a black knit turtleneck, and these godawful black faux-leather ankle boots? CAN IT BE THAT I HAVE LEARNED NOTHING FROM THAT: THAT "BLACK" ALONE CANNOT MAKE ME APPEAR TO BE A SUAVE 30-SOMETHING INDEPENDENT NEW YORK CITY WOMAN?

Or, more frighteningly, is that still my desire?

moms at the zoo

2009-02-25T21:38:00.003-06:00

A very late blog tonight; Kiddokabiddo and I did indeed go to the zoo, and then I hit up Ash Wednesday service, and then did my evening work.

So. The zoo. First of all, it is CRAZY to carry an almost-14-pound baby on the front of your chest, and a pack (CARRYING ESSENTIALS! Two diaper changes, wipes, a back-up carrier [ok, that was NOT essential, but it might have been], a Zone bar, a Klean Kanteen [MADE OF ALUMINUM! I thought it was supposed to be LIGHT!], a small plastic pig, and wallet/cell/keys) weighing at least 14 pounds on your back. Yee-ikes. Last time we were at the zoo, I carried the Kiddo and Vee took the diaper bag, but today I was an URBAN WARRIOR, going it alone.

I ran into a couple of moms that I know from the local babywearing board I belong to, and I also saw ABOUT 9,000 SUBURBAN MOMS TREKKIN' IT WITH HIGH-TECH STROLLERS! Holy crow. I seriously saw one that sat THREE KIDS, all in a straight line. Please, PLEASE, don't let me ever have three kids at the same age that "need" strollers.

It was kind of an interesting exhibit in mwomdom. There were a lot of moms doggin' it in gray sweats and tennis shoes, but an EQUAL number of moms doing it up FASHION STYLE with "cute" clothes. You know, "I might be pushing a baby, who might happen to be mine, but I'm lookin' so fine you can't BELIEVE I had a baby" clothes.

Not that you HAVE TO LOOK LIKE A MWOM WHEN YOU HAVE KIDS, but come ON. This is not struttin' Fifth Ave: you are at the zoo. At noon. On a Wednesday. We all know that you are here because you stay at home and you have a "kid" in that streamlined running stroller. Not that I can tell, since the shade is drawn, but I believe there is one in there since you've got a bottle of formula stuck next to the Diet Pepsi in your cupholders.

I shouldn't be judging! It's Ash Wednesday, the day for HUMILITY above all. Here, then: I was trying to look like a "hip" mom by wearing my baby in a cool baby carrier (the Beco I am still borrowing) and I was wearing dark jeans and a "cool" t-shirt. I think I looked more like a teenage mom than a "cool" mom, but Kiddo didn't know!

Anyway, by the time we got to the gorilla exhibit, Kiddokabiddo was out for the count and snoozing her head off in the carrier, so I sat on a ledge and watched myself for awhile. It was a really depressing experience. There was a group of fourth graders on a school field trip, and they kept pounding on the glass to get the big dad gorilla to react for them. Finally, Dad Gorilla pummeled the glass right against where they had pressed their snide little mugs and the kids ran delightedly screaming away.

And then ran back up and kept taunting the poor gorilla.

Dad Gorilla turned his back on them for awhile, but then he stood up, shook back and forth, and pulled a poop out (really. This is not for the fourth-grader in you--it really happened) and smeared it on the glass where the kids were. Then smacked the glass hard and walked away. But he couldn't catch a break--there were three other little monkeys hanging out with Dad Gorilla and Mom Gorilla in their environment, and one of the little monkeys started shit with Dad Gorilla, menacing after him. Dad Gorilla actually started backing up and away from Little Monkey (who was EASILY 1/8 his size).

I was glad the Kiddo slept through all that.

Shots and "TOTS!"

2009-02-24T20:56:00.002-06:00

I had my physical today, and since I am thirteen years overdue (Really. Thirteen years. I know I have a tendency to exaggerate and toss random numbers into my stories for dramatic pause, but I really was thirteen years late) for my tetanus shot, I got the Tdap shot. A SHOT I HAVE DENIED MY DAUGHTER THUS FAR! (Actually, I have denied her the DTaP shot, which is different because the diphtheria and pertussis components in DTaP are stronger and more full-force than Tdap, and therefore more likely to overwhelm her little system)

It's on the way (probably at her 12 month appt).

Meanwhile, my UPPER ARM ACHES (typical reaction to Tdap) at the injection site! It's raw, dog! When I lift my arm over my head, I feel it! Can you believe we are supposed to get this stuff every 10 years? (OMG, I just realized that I DID exaggerate for drama--I am only THREE years overdue! DUH!)

Anyway, we also ramped up the Kiddo's 9 month appt for today since she's got a dumb rash at the back of her head that is getting worse. Poor little impetigo girl! Beyond that, she's doing great--right on HER schedule, which happens to be the FIRST PERCENTILE (on the CDC charts).

Tomorrow, we're going to THE ZOO since it's supposed to be 60 degrees and sunny! ONCE AGAIN: I LOVE MY FLEXIBLE WORK SCHEDULE!

Weekend!

2009-02-23T08:31:00.004-06:00

Holy crow, I don't know why I dare to say I am "evading mwom," because this weekend's activities have pretty firmly pressed me into the imprint of MWOM.

On Friday night, Vee and I took Kiddokabiddo to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner. She had garbanzo beans, but I had my beloved cheese enchiladas. And a Corona. MOM LETS LOOSE ON THE WEEKEND, Y'ALL! What did I do with the rest of my night?

I WENT TO TARGET AND LOOKED FOR A CHAIR CUSHION REPLACEMENT for the janked up one I had bought earlier in the week.

WHOA!

We had a hoooooooooooooorrible night of non-sleep on Friday/Sat morning. Kiddokabiddo woke up SCREAMING her head off at 12:30am, 3am, 5:30am, and I had to nurse her down twice. This is only a big deal since she usually only eats at 6:30am, and the feedings were preceded by over 20 minutes of Vee trying to calm her yet NOT SUCCEEDING screaming. BRUTAL!

Yet, because we are nothing if not tenacious, Vee and I went ahead with our Saturday morning plan of GOING TO THE HOME & GARDEN EXPO!

Some HGTV dude was supposed to be there, but we left before he went on stage. We ate cut-rate BBQ, milled around up and down the aisles with the SICKEST stupid commercial crap (AMAZING GARDEN SHEARS!) and their depressing shillers ("No need to crowd, folks, step on up," WHEN THERE WAS NO ONE AT THE BOOTH. DON'T LIE TO YOURSELF OR TO ME!).

Vee was delighted when we came across the Costco booth since we've been thinking of joining and the guy there gave us a form where, if we join, we were gonna get a $20 gift card immediately! Dank deal, considering that it's $50 for the year, so it would really be $30! (This is not the case; the $20 gift card only goes with the $100/year special membership, but we would learn this later) The Costco guy mentioned he was from Seattle, so Vee decided it was time to ask him about "where to stay" since we are going there this summer for Vee's best friend's wedding.

COSTCO GUY TOLD US TO "GO ON THE INTERNET" AND LOOK PLACES UP.

Ok, seriously, did Costco Guy think WE DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW/DO THAT? OBVIOUSLY Vee was looking for insider information, but all Costco Guy had for us were slams on Omaha ("OH MY GOD, you guys realize Seattle is 5 times the size of Omaha!?") and misinformed details about "SeaFair."

DO WE LOOK LIKE MWOMBECILES? I think we know what a "big" city is and I think that if Vee's best friend was getting married around SeaFair time, HE WOULD HAVE WARNED US.

Anyway, we also picked up info on and later rejected a milk delivery service, found out about cabinet refacing for our kitchen, got info on Buying Local (there are some dank CSAs that we're thinking about joining for the summer) and bought our zoo membership.

I was so OVER family time that I ducked out of the house on Sat night and went to see "The Reader" by myself. I'm not going to toss any spoilers on here, but it was almost infuriating because, if you know me, you know that I have a very hard time making a distinction between "this is just a movie I am watching unfold in front of me" and "this event is actually occurring and I have the ability to affect the outcome." And almost EVERY turn that I could see coming, I was clenching my toes and saying to myself, "Please don't let this happen the way I think it is going to happen." And it always did!

Sunday was our rendition of "My Very Bourgeois Weekend: How Much Can We Spend On Furniture This Time?" since we did indeed go buy the bedroom set I blogged about earlier. And a futon for the basement. For those of you keeping track at home, we have officially blown most of our tax refund/credit on:

a loveseat
a bed frame/headboard
two dressers
a futon
paying off my student loan

Paying off my student loan is actually pretty amazing, and when I clicked the button to send the cash over, I felt triumphant. I had overpaid on my loan payments from day 1, and I am proud to say that (with the aid of, um, tax credit and taking out more than we needed on Vee's student loans for MA school since his were government loans) we turned a 20 year repayment plan over in less than five years!

You want numbers? We decimated over $13,500 in five years.

SHAZAM!

(we still have Vee's MA school student loans, but undergrad is ALL GONE NOW!)

Flush with delight over our deals, we went on to Costco to check it out. Neither Vee nor I had ever been in a Costco before, but we were assured that it was BETTER THAN SAM'S CLUB (much kinder to their employees!) and WITH DEALS WE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO RESIST!

Well, we were able to resist.

Not only were the "deals" only good if you regularly consume a bag of 64 frozen taquitos (and even then, the per-piece breakdown is PRETTY EQUIVALENT to what you would pay in a normal store, esp. considering the yearly Costco joining fee), but Vee and I had an attack of conscience since we had just been reading the propaganda/discussing the joys of buying local after our visit to the CSA stand at the Home Expo.

Costco is not local, and buying at Costco felt like buying into an "American Life" we are not interested in living.

So I returned the 6 pack of orange juice to the freezer, we abandoned our cart with its giant-size box of Multi-Grain Cheerios, and walked out of the store hand-in-hand, Kiddokabiddo strapped to my chest in her Beco.

Maybe I evaded "mwom" a little bit.

MAAAAAM!

2009-02-20T20:39:00.003-06:00

CHILD UPDATE: My daughter knows how to say "Mama."

This is both an amazing feat (tot. ahead of schedule for our little preemie-by who is GESTATIONALLY SPEAKING only 7.5 months old since she joined us a month early) and a very painful one. Do you know how hard it is when the screaming cries of "I NEED MY DIAPER CHANGED" (formerly translated as "NAAAAAAA!") turns into a plaintive wail of "MAAAAAM! MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!"?

It sucks.

On Wednesday, she actually repeated "Hi ma-ma" after me, which I immediately recorded on her calendar. Brilliant child! She knows her dad is da-da and will actually call him da-da; I wish I could say she CALLS me mama, but she really just says "ma-ma-ma-ma-ma" all day.

I never thought I would be so "cool" with her knowing da-da before mama; I guess I read too many broken-hearted moms' tearful sagas of SPENDING ALL DAY WITH THEIR BABIES, and then THEY STILL CALLED OUT FOR DA-DA FIRST! It's TOTALLY FINE WITH ME, though. Kiddokabiddo is going through a strong MOMMY phase where she kind of, well, only wants to hang out with me.

Vee, she might know you as Da-Da, but when she needs a dipe change/burping, she'll always call out for MAAAAAAAAM!

drive

2009-02-19T19:50:00.003-06:00

I'm still kind of hung up on high school driving memories. I was participating in my favorite "Vee's got the kid, I'm out of the house" freedom activity, which is driving the 'Rage around while having a guilt-free indulgence blastout of one of my high school CDs, on my way home from having my hair cut.

What CD? You really want to know?

EVE6!

Hilarious. Kind of. But still kind of amazing. Sorry, but I got to give the dudes props for the inventive use of homographs in just about every song. It gets gratuitous (see: "Showerhead") but I still love it. And I will always love the line about finding a dime under the corner cushion wishing it was someplace else and SO! DO I! SO DO I!

I wonder, though, who else out there experienced that dream-filled driving in high school. You know, where you went fast because you could go fast, and you cranked up your stereo because you could crank up your stereo, because YOU were driving, you were in control, you were in a world where everything, from the sound to the movement to the temperature, happened the way YOU wanted it to. Was I the only one who drove with a purpose, an aimless purpose, finding obscure roads, trying to own time when everything felt like it was moving too fast, happening too fast, leaving me too fast?

I'm still helplessly drawn towards songs about driving, about being on the road. Am I still trying to control my life (or ESCAPE MY LIFE?) through driving? Probably. IT'S A TIME HONORED TRADITION!

See you out there on the back roads! WATCH OUT FOR A 'RAGE BLARING "Small Town Trap!"

My Day in Bullets

2009-02-18T19:51:00.003-06:00

Nursed the Kiddo at 6:30am; was both too early to get up, and too late to sleep in, so I laid there and pretended I was getting some REM for about twenty minutes
Worked and avoided coffee since I had a headache
Said "F THIS HEADACHE, I NEED COFFEE" and compensated by drinking extra water
IMed with grammagoose, looked at Seattle-area vrbos for our trip this summer
Got Kiddokabiddo up, nursed, read "The Nanny Diaries" again, fed her winter squash bits and reveled in her motor control as she picked each piece up between her finger and thumb
Met a mom friend at Whole Foods and ate a chimichanga, a slice of tomato-and-cheese quiche, and a small salad while comparing our 8.5 month old daughters favorably to one another
Worked, nursed, cajoled Kiddokabiddo into saying "Hi-ma-ma" and gleefully recorded said event on her calendar
Showered when Vee got home, changed immediately into pajamas
Ate steak for the fifth day in a row
Worked, working, will work again tomorrow!

De-li-lah

2009-02-17T20:58:00.004-06:00

As I was driving home from my La Leche League meeting tonight, I was listening to the local adult contemporary/glory of the 80s/90s station (very mwomy of me, I know, but adult contemporary is the soundtrack of my youth, and I was feeling nostalgic). The show being piped in was DELILAH, which made me sad.

See, for four years (the entire time I lived in Terre Haute) (and yes, this was high school), I would tune into the DELILAH show every so often, at night, and listen to the corny-ass stories people made up (or geez, some of them I HOPE they made up) to dedicate a song to someone. Delilah had the most soothing, comforting, mwomy voice, and when a letter came in explaining some obscure situation where the writer's mom's best friend just married the mom's old high school sweetheart, who was coincidentally the writer's boyfriend's dad, DELILAH ALWAYS FOUND THE RIGHT SONG (ok, ok, Delilah often failed. But it was amusing to listen to her apply "Wind Beneath My Wings" to almost every circumstance).

Anyway, I spent a lot of dark, rainy nights cruising out past the lights of the Haute, narrowly escaping deer and raccoons, my Taurus hugging the curves of the back roads, and when I needed a break from my TEEN ANGST Everclear/Stretch Princess/Stabbing Westward/other embarassing late 90s music, I'd hit it with Delilah.

Delilah, as I pictured it, was broadcasting live from the radio station over in Brazil (also known as the home to Michelle from ANTM Season 4; you know, the bisexual wrestler who got the face-eating disease). I could see her in her studio in a brokedown building on the main strip in downtown Brazil, speaking to the Wabash Valley, intimately ours.

Guys, I'm not lying when I tell you this: one night, I decided I wanted to find Delilah's email address because I just wanted to write her a short message to thank her for what she did. I was seventeen/eighteen; I was prone to romantic gestures like this (and never really grew out of them: I wrote a similar letter to one of my college professors who I admired very much for sticking to her guns and making us read 75 pages of rich text between our Tues/Thurs classes because, as I said, THAT'S WHAT I ALWAYS THOUGHT COLLEGE WAS GOING TO BE).

So I went to the local radio station website, and got linked ("Odd," I thought to myself) to some joint down in Florida.

It's true (and this is where you all KNEW it was going anyway): Delilah was syndicated.

It was honestly one of the biggest disappointments of my life. I was heartsick.

I had come to see Delilah as a Hautian woman, shopping at Walmart with the rest of us, sledding at Deming Park on the one day a year when we got enough snow, skipping I-70 for the back roads whenever possible. I KNEW her so well; I was wrecked when I realized she'd probably never even been to the Wabash Valley. She didn't know what we were going through; she knew what "America" was going through. Those soldiers making requests to their wives weren't writing letters that went through the Haute post office. Those corny boyfriends who got "Only Wanna Be With You" sent out to their girlfriends? Didn't go to West Vigo.

There have been a handful of big disappointments like that since Delilah, but she was the first. Oh, Delilah. CUT OFF MY HAIR, WHY DON'T YOU?

Food and Furniture: My Kind of V Day Fun!

2009-02-16T20:23:00.003-06:00

My Valentine's Day weekend was awesome!

Unlike V Day weekends of yore, with glamorous dinners out and travel to exotic places, we stayed put. And bought furniture. And cleaned house. And I cooked Vee dinner.

This is actually a bigger deal than it sounds. I had not cooked a single dinner (excepting one pot of chili when we had guests, and maybe the one night we did a mac-n-cheese dinner) since we moved here. Hey, y'all, I was pregnant! And then, um, I was taking care of a baby! (and I am still am...?) Anyway, so I got out the old "Wine Lovers Cookbook" and found a recipe for Adobo-Grilled Filet with Red Bean Ragout, and went a-shopping at HyVee and Whole Foods to load up on $60 worth of groceries.

SIXTY DOLLARS! IT WOULD HAVE BEEN CHEAPER FOR US TO GO OUT!

But we had a Kiddokabiddo who still has not been babysat by anyone outside our family, and since she's in a very strong 8 month "I NEED MAAAAAM! I NEED DOT-DOT!" phase, it wasn't worth trying to coerce one of our friends to take her for the evening on V Day.

So we put Kiddokabiddo down for the night around 8:30pm, and I put the dinner on our table with a flourish, and we enjoyed a successfully-cooked meal without the plaintive cries of our child. In our house, sure, but these days, ANY MEAL WITHOUT THE KIDDO AROUND IS A LUXURIOUS ONE.

I feel particularly proud of the fact that this meal was able to erase the memories of Valentine's Day Dinner 2004, which was the last time I tried to cook dinner for Vee on V Day. I spent all afternoon in the kitchen of the house, with my two GREAT COOK roommates helping me make this amazing salmon-orzo-and-tomato dinner, which I had plated and was carrying upstairs (I had set up a card table with a tablecloth and candlelight in my room) when, OF COURSE, I tripped and spilled one of the two plates on the stairs.

You REALLY had to know these stairs. Well, or you REALLY had to know the general cleanliness of that last house I lived in during college. It probably had dirt/blood/semen/tetanus from the last 50 years worth of college kids who lived there before us. The house was WRECKED, in an amazing "This is why we all only pay $210 a month for rent" way.

And I spilled my beautiful Valentine's Day dinner on THAT.

(I must be exaggerating on the tetanus part, because I scraped the middle digit on my pointer finger and got a nice scar that bears mute witness today, and I know I wasn't up to date on my shots, so maybe it was "cleaner" than I made it sound.)

But that dinner is gone! Finito! V Day Dinner 09 took its place!

I can't believe Vee and I have celebrated seven Valentine's Days together. Amazing.

Kiddokabiddo got me Valentine's Day donuts, and she got her dad a card. And then her dad and I bought ourselves the finest piece of furniture we'll probably ever own, because we bought a house last year.

What did you do for Valentine's Day?

NORMALIZED ABNORMALITY

2009-02-13T19:25:00.003-06:00

Isn't "abnormal" really "normal" now?

This is what I thought to myself while reading an article that Vee sent me via email that applauded the "nonconformist" nature of this 43 year old woman's 11 year old daughter. You know, because said daughter thinks this pale dude from a 1984 sitcom is hot! HOW WEIRD! And she don't wear Uggs! She likes her frog-faced rain boots! ECLECTIC, AND INDIVIDUAL!

I don't mean to dog this woman's daughter--really, my problem is with HER MOM! She should know better!

The author of the article is 43. That means she's solidly part of Gen X, the generation that DEFINED THEMSELVES AGAINST "NORMALITY" and made it NORMAL TO BE "ABNORMAL."

But here she is, trotting herself out as "yep, I'm still a weird and quirky mom with weird and quirky kids!" UNABLE TO RECOGNIZE THAT THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS WEIRD OR QUIRKY ANY MORE! Weird and/or quirky is CONSIDERED NORMAL!

I was in seventh grade (and I don't know if it was just 1994, or if this is what happens to everyone in middle school) when it suddenly became REALLY COOL to JUST BE YOURSELF! "Being yourself" was defined as "having a bunch of weird tastes, like being obsessed with Snoopy or wearing scraggy corduroys from Goodwill or being really, really into Egyptology" and it became A RACE to claim "weird" attributes or interests as "who you really are."

DOES ANYONE ELSE REMEMBER THIS, or did I experience this alone?

ANYWAY, I think we can still all agree that our generation (Gen X/Gen Y) PRETTY MUCH ACCEPTS "WEIRDNESS" IN EVERYONE and, therefore, I don't really see a reason to applaud "difference" as something REALLY EXCEPTIONAL AND REALLY DIFFICULT TO DO among today's youth.

NOT THAT I THINK EVERYONE SHOULD "CONFORM" or not receive praise for being comfortable with who they are. It's just not that big of an accomplishment as it was for, say, our parents.

Furthermore, I don't like the way this author defines "conformity" by contrasting her daughter with the Uggs-wearing clones she sees out and about. WHY IS IT CONFORMITY IF IT'S JUST SOMETHING THAT'S POPULAR? The author is so quick to point out "hey, my daughter likes 'Twilight' too!" YET DOES NOT DEFINE THIS AS CONFORMITY. Why is liking something popular NOT conformity when it's a book, but when it comes to clothing, OH HELL, IT'S CONFORMIST!

It just strikes me with the same shades of ridiculousness as my teenage boyfriend and his best friend continuously asking me and my best friend, "Are we weird enough for you yet?"

When you define yourself by your "weirdness," YOU'RE NOT REALLY THAT WEIRD!

Hipster Hire Hits on Helpless Hmwom

2009-02-12T19:19:00.004-06:00

So the Kiddo had a rowdy waking night last night, and it left Vee and I exhausted. And of all days! It was 48 and sunny today, the last vestiges of spring on the horizon before we get smacked in the face with 6+ inches of snow tomorrow!

Vee came home early and we declared it "early weekend"--he stayed home with Kiddokabiddo while I went out a-thrifting (really, looking for ANY EXCUSE TO BE OUT OF THE HOUSE ALONE).

My first stop was this great thrift store called ThriftAmerica. I got 5 books for 44 cents apiece, which is the primary reason I love going to there. I can always spend $0.44 on a copy of "The Nanny Diaries!" I also love ThriftAmerica because it is NOT PART OF A THRIFT STORE CONGLOMERATE, which means they don't have those sneaky-ass kids screening the bags of stuff as they get dropped off so the "quality items" (also known as "ironic" or "adorably vintage") can get marked up.

Do you know how much I hate that? THE WHOLE POINT OF THRIFT STORES IS SO THAT POOR PEOPLE CAN BUY QUALITY ITEMS AT A REASONABLE PRICE! The second whole point of thrift stores is so that YOU CAN GET SOMETHING AWESOME FOR A RIDICULOUSLY LOW PRICE! If I wanted to pay antique store prices for an old canister set saying "flour," "sugar," and "tea," I WOULD GO TO AN ANTIQUE STORE!

You think my "sneaky-ass kids" thing is a paranoid lie, but the hipster teen who used to live in the apartment across from Vee and I back when we first lived here WORKED AT A GOODWILL. Do you SERIOUSLY think he got the job because of his work ethic, or BECAUSE, SINCE HE LOOKED LIKE CONOR OBERST (no, really: he actually did get mistaken for Obie often), THE GOODWILL MANAGER DECIDED HE WOULD KNOW HOW TO DESIGNATE ITEMS THAT HIPSTERS WOULD OVERPAY FOR?

Anyway! Locally owned thrift stores! Only way to go!

So when I was done at ThriftAmerica, I shamefully slunk across the street to (yep) Goodwill. Just to give it another look! I renounced this Goodwill back in November when I brought four bags of TOTALLY AWESOME AND USABLE STUFF to the drop-off spot and this 20-something who hated me for driving a Camry REFUSED TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH ME and MUTELY TOOK MY BAGS INSIDE. And did not come out! Didn't offer me the tax deduction form! Nothing!

But the cat came back, three months later!

As expected, everything was overpriced and I overpaid for a copy of AM Homes' Music for Torching ($1.99! I could have gotten four books over at ThriftAmerica and still had $0.23 towards my bean burrito at Taco Bell!). BUT! The twenty-something working the register! Said "Are you into rock music? You look like you're into rock music."

BAZAAM!

I quizzically looked at the dude (mentally doing a recall of what I was wearing: a black CASHMERE zip-up hoodie from Old Navy, some jeans that totally make me look like a mom, and my bangs were doing a skanky split-down-the-middle since I needed to shower--BUT I WAS NOT WEARING MY BABY!) and said, "I can be..." (thinking to myself "When was the last time I was able to define 'rock music' as anything other than adult contemporary?")

DUDE DECIDED THIS WAS A PEAK TIME TO TELL ME HE'S IN A BAND! And said band is "playing at Saddle Creek tonight" and "you should check us out" and then fumbled through his wallet, giving me THE ONLY COPY OF HIS BAND'S BUSINESS CARD (!!! BUSINESS CARD !!!) and boasting that "we're going to be on the radio soon."

Which radio station? Unspecified.

Dude, pirate radio DOES NOT A "MAJOR LABEL BAND" make.

FURTHERMORE! As I got home and LOOKED UP (I know) the business-card-carrying band, DUDE DID NOT MENTION THAT IT IS A METAL BAND!

Is metal ROCK now?? More importantly, DO METAL DUDES USE BAND BUSINESS CARDS NOW?

I might sneak my first edition copies of Play It As It Lays by the sweet middle-aged woman at ThriftAmerica for 44 cents, but next time I need a reminder that I'm not too old to be band-picked-up, I know where I'm going!

delights

2009-02-11T09:13:00.002-06:00

It seems like half the blogs on my Google Reader are doing lists lately (and no, not just the addicting and why-didn't-I-think-of-this-amazing-blog-idea Secret Society of List Addicts). Maybe because it's February and we're all out of blog topics? Because we need things to pull us through the winter?

Anyway, here's my list of things that have been delighting me lately:

The freshly-ground smell of coffee beans (even if it's at 10:30pm as Vee and I set up the coffee maker for the morning--I think it's the temptation of "what if I just pressed "ON" right now, knowing it would mess up my whole day" that is especially great)
The curl on the top of my little girl's blonde (!) head
SEEING MOMS THAT I KNOW OUT IN PUBLIC PLACES! You have no idea what a big deal this is for me--the first time we lived here, I probably recognized people MAYBE twice. In two years. And YET! Who knew all I had to do was ACTUALLY MEET PEOPLE and then I would recognize (and be recognized!) other women during my out-and-arout evenings?!
Reading "on my long-time needs-to-be-read list" classics
While also reading "by no means on any list I ever made, yet THOROUGHLY AWESOME" small-town-library selections
Lemon Zest Luna bars
Western sunsets
"Somebody Remembers the Rose" by Whiskeytown (NEED TO FIND MY STUPID CD! I KEEP LISTENING TO MY OWN CHRISTMAS MIX AND NEED A BREAK FROM THIS ONE SONG)

How about you?

Vitamin D

2009-02-10T16:03:00.002-06:00

No one wants to weigh in on the bedroom set? Ok, dudes--bye bye tax refund, hello personal economic stimulus donation!

It has been another beautiful, sunny day here in the prairie West. My screen door is open, and Kiddokabiddo and I have been taking brief jaunts onto our porch to just sit and marvel at the weather. Plus she's getting her vitamin D!

As the early morning light rolled in, I announced to Vee that, while I will concede that I would get tired of all the hot weather and lack of 4 seasons if we lived somewhere like southern Arizona, I'm pretty sure that I would NEVER get tired of the constant sun.

I really don't have much for today. Vee is working late, and when he gets home, I will be heading out to pick up the following items:

Cheerios (the Kiddokabiddo can apparently start eating these, which should be hilarious to watch)
New sleepwear (the Kiddo is outgrowing her footie sleepers)
Teething biscuits
A humidifier (we murdered our last one by using our hard water; even though the directions SPECIFICALLY SAY to use distilled water and to clean it every other day, I thought THAT WAS JUST BEING RIDICULOUS. Fast forward to two nights ago when I opened the humidifier to add more water and found a gross orange film dried all around it, coupled with lime deposits. Sorry, Kiddo--hope you were breathing ok!)
Distilled water.

Other tasks for the evening include:

Washing towels
Washing lights
Dyeing my hair

Maybe I would be doing myself a disservice to live somewhere with constant sun after all if all I am going to do is to spend my time WALKING AROUND INSIDE BOX STORES SPENDING MONEY instead of getting my vitamin D.

shots and "cots"

2009-02-09T20:32:00.005-06:00

Another late blog; long day.

I took the Kiddo to the doctor's office today for her first shots. It's true, you're reading this right: she's 8 months and getting her first shots.

"What about the CDC RECOMMENDATIONS, you child endangerer!"

I'm not going to get on a rant/defense about whether or not Jenny McCarthy's kid got autism from the MMR shot or whether herd immunity is vital to our well-being as a nation or whether unvaccinated kids should be segregated from everyone else to protect the vaccinated kids (this makes no sense to me; if the kids are vaccinated, HOW ARE THEY GOING TO GET SICK FROM SOMETHING AN UNVACCINATED CHILD "MIGHT" HAVE?). The point is: Vee and I decided not to vaccinate the Kiddo until now, and that's because we're going to be flying to the Vee Homeland at the end of the month, and we wanted her protected from the influenza variants that lead to meningitis.

So she got her HIB and Pc shots today, and my little trooper was just fine.

Until we got home, and Vee realized she was getting a second tooth. I think this one really hurts her, because she was fussy ALL NIGHT. "Fussy" isn't the right word for it--more like "petulant" because unless I was holding her, STANDING UP (this kid has a radar for the instant you sit down and starts screaming--WHY?! Her center of gravity is the EXACT SAME!). Which made it a little hard for me to get my evening work done.

Today was a rainy day, which was actually awesome since it rinsed away what was left of the snow, and all our bleached-out bare grass is belly up. CRAZY WIND TOO! I love living on the prairie, and I love our wind-whip, but I couldn't set the Kiddo's diaper bag on the trunk of the car without it BLOWING OVER when I was at the ped's today. SHEESH!

In other news, I got our TAX RETURNS DONE LAST NIGHT. Oh my effing GOD! The last two years, Vee and I have paid someone to do them because our "tax situation" was complicated. This year, after being advised otherwise by our financial advisor (who told us, straight up, that when clients ask him to do their returns, he feels bad taking money because he just plugs the numbers in TurboTax), I decided to tackle them on my own.

I used to ALWAYS do my taxes myself. I am not an econ person, but I know how to manage our budget, so I figured I CAN DO THIS!

And two state returns and one federal return later (interspersed with my cries of "WE ARE NOT PAYING MICHIGAN MORE TAXES! We only lived there for FOUR MONTHS THIS YEAR!" and then my sheepish glee when I realized I had forgotten to add an important number that wound up giving us a refund rather than owing), WE'RE DONE!

Relocating, having a bambina, and buying a house made us PRIME CANDIDATES FOR THE CASH, and we are getting such a huge refund, Vee and I decided we should go bougie-bedroom-set hunting. Mainly because OUR BED IS STILL ON THE FLOOR (not even a bed frame). It's shameful.

Here's the dank we're considering.

WHAT DO YOU THINK? Bouge it up and get two of the tall dressers + the headboard/bed frame, or just get the bed frame and find "eclectic" dressers on our own time? Vee and I are split on this.

IS A BEDROOM SET TOO BOUGIE FOR US? (is THIS bedroom set bougie?)

Nurse!

2009-02-06T08:48:00.002-06:00

This post might not appeal to those of you without kids, those of you who have kids and primarily used formula, or those of you who are male (so I've successfully just alienated basically my entire reader base. Humor me and keep going). But I want to take a minute to talk about nursing.

NURSING, I said. Not "breastfeeding," the verb that Vee once prepared to alarm the masses with when my supply was slowing and he felt that everyone needed to know why I had to stay home with Kiddokabiddo. Y'all don't want to deal with the fact that my baby is feeding on my breast; ok, I understand. No one says "feeding" anyway unless you're talking about animals on a farm. I don't really like the verb "nursing" because I am not an RN, but that's cool.

Anyway. Nursing. My baby. She's 8 months old now, and has been eating solids pretty consistently for two months. My littleby! Solids, for you non-parents, are the gateway drug to the end of our nursing. Kiddo starts getting her nutrients from the jars of garbanzo beans, yams, and avocado that we stock up, and she stops wanting to nurse the nutrient-rich milk from me. It's called "becoming a big girl," and I know it's a good thing. But it makes me sad.

The Kiddo and I have had a tumultuous relationship with our nursing. Not as bad as some of the stories I've heard (we haven't dealt with mastitis or thrush), but I had to pump, exclusively, for the first nine weeks of her life because she had trouble staying latched on. Nine weeks, you guys. That meant I was retiring to a room to sit with some machine squishing me for 30 minutes straight. Every 3 hours. Day or night. Setting my alarm clock to get up and pump.

And then, while I was getting squished, Vee was feeding the Kiddo with a hollow syringe (no needle; more like a medicine dropper) and having her suck his finger. Milliliter by milliliter.

But the Kiddo and I practiced every day, and as she got bigger and stronger, we retired the stupid syringe and she nursed with me full-time. Well, mostly. I still pump at night and in the morning so Vee can take care of putting her to sleep and getting her up. But I am so proud of how far we've come--eight months, and my little Kabiddo is still nursing with Mom. Successfully.

Why nursing? Because it's cheap (free), healthiest for my little smallby, and because I love our buddy time. I love our close time together that no one else can share.

I seriously used to roll my eyes at all the pungent sap of "you'll feel this way when you're a parent" and was like dude, stop trying to tell me how to feel, yo. But neither Vee or I can get through reading "Love You Forever" to the Kiddo without tearing up. TEARING UP! To the point where I have to read the last two pages in a whisper or my voice is going to crack--and if Kiddokabiddo looks up at me, like a crazy woman I assure her "Mama's ok, mama's ok" while wiping AWAY MY TEARS and trying to smile to show her IT'S OK. DUDES, IT'S EMOTIONAL WHEN THE DAD COMES HOME AND STANDS AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS BEFORE SINGING TO HIS OWN DAUGHTER! TRY READING IT NOW THAT YOU'RE AN ADULT!

Anyway, I freaked out because my normal pump sessions yesterday didn't yield hardly anything. I freaked out because I'M NOT READY TO BE DONE and I DON'T WANT TO MOVE OVER TO FORMULA. The Kiddo's not ready for cow's milk yet, and I want her to keep getting mom milk, not formula. Luckily, the issue resolved itself when I nursed her instead of pumping, but it made me realize that, at some point, whether it's in four months or in another two years, my Kiddo is going to be done nursing. She's not going to NEED me in THAT WAY any more.

So this blog is my thank you to nursing. Thank you to all the moms who've gone before me and whose advice I read on all the forums and the boards I snuck on, the moms who I hungrily listened to at La Leche League meetings, and all the chapters in the books that are dog-eared from all my referencing. We're not done yet, but I am so grateful for the time together we've had nursing, not formula-ing.

Jon "Tiffany would have married me" Knight. Oh, Jon.

2009-02-05T12:49:00.003-06:00

During my regular morning-blog-catch-up reading, I stumbled across a story that, suddenly, made everything make sense.

JONATHAN KNIGHT IS GAY.

("not that there's anything wrong with it")

I don't always jump on board with whatever I read on a blog, but I trust Trent. I've trusted Trent since he was living back in Detroit and back when he was poised to take over the blogosphere (before Perez "I AM A DICK" got his I-am-stealing-Trent's-signature-color-pink hair dyed and got a stupid show on VH1) because TRENT IS NICE. Trent has always been nice and doesn't blog dumb rumors.

So, Jon. After seeing NKOTB with my best friend this last fall (and fulfilling a 20 year old dream of mine), I was TRULY unable to understand why Jon even bothered SHOWING UP for the reunion. It dawned on me that even Danny gets solo time during songs, but Jon NEVER DOES. He seemed sooooo beyond the show and bored with it all. Why, Jon, why? You had a successful real estate career in Southie (on second thought, maybe THAT'S why he agreed to do it. TRY SELLING A HOUSE THESE DAYS). You didn't HAVE to be there. No one would have even noticed if you weren't!

Jon has always been "the forgotten one" of the New Kids--so much so, that every time I am listening to "Step by Step," when Jon's part comes ("Step Five: don't you know that the time has arrived?") I always interject "NOBODY REMEMBERS THIS LINE BECAUSE JON SINGS IT." (no, really, I do) I was astonished to see a homemade "I Love Jon" shirt at the concert--dude, what's there to love about him? He's quiet, doesn't sing much at all, and NOT that attractive.

HE'S "QUIET" BECAUSE HE IS NOT INTERESTED IN SINGING FOR THE LADIES! NOT THAT ATTRACTIVE BECAUSE HE DOESN'T CARE IF THE LADIES ARE INTERESTED!

Jon, my apologies for dissing you all these years!

Did anyone else hear that STUPID urban legend about the New Kids that was making the rounds in, oh, '92 or something, when they were totally UNCOOL TO LIKE, that (and I quote), "Donnie and Jordan had to get their stomachs pumped before a show, and when they did, they found each other's sperm in their stomachs"?

IT IS PROBABLY THE DUMBEST URBAN LEGEND ALIVE (except for the chain letter I once received, AS AN EMAIL, that had been "unbroken since 1888"--YOU KNOW, WHEN THE INTERNET WAS AROUND).

Why would they be getting their stomachs pumped? Why would they be TESTING THE CONTENTS FOR SPERM? Why would they be TESTING TO SEE WHOSE SPERM IT WAS?

It was totally meant to discredit Donnie and Jordan (coincidentally, my two favorite New Kids). No one would have dared to mess with Joe BECAUSE HE WAS BELOVED BY ALL, it wasn't worth it to make a joke about Danny because no one liked him anyway, and JON WAS SAFE FROM SLANDER BECAUSE HE HAD DATED TIFFANY, and so OBVIOUSLY HE WOULD NOT BE GAY.

WRONG!

Why I Actually Do Love my Work

2009-02-04T15:02:00.003-06:00

The Kiddo is currently going berserk-o jumping up and down in a Rainforest jumperoo that some friends of ours were kind enough to loan us, so I don't know how long this post will be (it's almost feeding time for baby elephants: homemade garbanzo beans are on the menu).

I know I complained recently about how much I don't like working 3/4-time. But I need to STFU sometimes, because I really, really love my lifestyle. Kiddokabiddo and I met Vee at our local art museum over the lunch hour, and as we meandered through the beautiful Beaux Arts/Art Deco architecture and just hung out in the green-and-blue thunderbird-style tiled courtyard (which gave me GREAT IDEAS for our kitchen remodel), Vee said something which is so true:

We are so blessed to work somewhere that allows me the flexibility to take off in the middle of the day and allows my husband to take his lunch hour whenever he needs to so that we can get in to an art museum for free (another benefit of working where we do) and be together as a family in the middle of the day.

It's truly amazing, and something I often take for granted.

I love my employer.

On paying $20 for face wash

2009-02-03T08:09:00.002-06:00

I swear, I am not a cosmetics girl. I am a pretty strict mascara-and-that's-it kind of person, and that's only if I'm leaving the house. Lip balm? Use it before going to bed, and occasionally during the day if I find myself biting my lips.

No eyeshadow/eyeliner (Well, not anyMORE. In high school, you could have found my nightmarish self wearing navy blue eyeshadow [applied with my fingertips, I'll have you know--NOT WITH A BRUSH] and gray liquid eyeliner...oh my GOD, next time I wonder why the boys weren't lined up outside my door, all I need to do is look at my 10th grade school picture).

No blush/lipstick/foundation (Sorry to be all "I'm only in my mid-20s," but do people under 40 wear this stuff on a regular basis? I mean, I've got blotchy-ass skin and, in the winter, my natural lip color resembles my sunless calves; not a pretty sight. But I can't even type the word "blush" without feeling like it is either 1988 or I am a middle-aged woman).

My "makeup bag" is a hilarious jumble of crap I've gotten from drugstores in the 75% bin over the last 10 years (and yes, I said TEN YEARS. I know most of this shit has gone bad/discolored, but I BOUGHT IT ONCE, and considering that I've probably only used <5% of the stuff, I can't bear to throw it out yet). And it's all pretty cheap crap. We're talking Maybelline, Cover Girl, Wet n Wild (no, actually, I think I tossed out the black Halloween Wet n Wild lipstick that I bought when I was SERIOUSLY in fourth grade). I once had an expensive $27 lipstick that I bought on my wedding day at the salon where my mother-in-law paid for me to have my makeup done.

And lost it that day, somewhere in the abyss of wedding ephemera.

So, MY POINT is that I don't pay money for cosmetics. Not real money, anyway. And I don't really use them.

But last night found me at JC Penneys (HA! HA! I said "JC Penneys!" Yes, folks, it is still in business), snaking around in the Sephora sub-store, looking for philosophy purity face wash.

Sephora is apparently suffering for business (? ? ?) and has teamed up with still-relevant Penneys (? ? ?) to use up some of that 90%-off holiday clearance rack space to create a separate little enclave, WITHIN Penneys, to peddle their overpriced cosmetics. They have their own salesgirls (who are much more attractive than your typical Penneys employee) and, NATURALLY, you can't use all those "$10 off $10" coupons Penneys ships out to drum up biz.

My mother-in-law, TWO YEARS AGO, got me a sample kit of philosophy stuff for Christmas. The purity face wash had been bumbling around in my travel bag for months and I finally started using it. And blotchy old me suddenly found A NEW BEST FRIEND! Bye bye, Dove and Neutrogena! I'm a BIG GIRL NOW!

Of course, since I DIDN'T BUY THE SAMPLE FOR MYSELF, I had no idea how expensive my new buddy was. $20 for 8 ounces. TWENTY DOLLARS! Y'all, I used to make my face wash selections at Target based on whether or not I felt "flush" enough to spend $6.09 rather than $5.50.

Gateway drug!

zootooth

2009-02-02T13:27:00.004-06:00

It was a BIG WEEKEND at our house!

We woke up on Saturday morning to SUN, SUN, SUN and the promise of 50 degree weather! So I did end-of-the-month finances and found that we had some extra money, and we went on KIDDOKABIDDO'S FIRST TRIP TO THE ZOO!

Our zoo is awesome, and Vee and I haven't been since sometime in 06. The first time we ever went to this zoo was almost seven years ago to the day--we took a Valentine's Day trip back in 02 to our current hometown (our FIRST TRIP TOGETHER AS A COUPLE--we'd been together for 4 months. This was A BIG DEAL.) and, although it snowed like mad, we went to the zoo anyway. Kinda cool to be back there now, married, with our little daughter!

Kiddokabiddo loved it. She really likes her little penguin buddies at home. We have a soft terrycloth penguin ("Penguina") who's just the right size for our little 8 monther to carry around like a little buddy, and she frequently chews on Penguina's beak (in a loving way). One of Kiddokabiddo's favorite bath buddies also happens to be a penguin ("Pengy"). This is all hilarious because Kiddo's godmother has always been an avowed penguin hater (she's scared of them because THEY CAN'T BEND IN THE MIDDLE and are silent; two facts I never really thought about, but which are actually pretty scary).

We hung out downtown afterwards and got some ice cream (it got up to 58, y'all!) and then went grocery shopping. On Saturday night. These are the things you do when you are a parent, and it seems like a perfectly reasonable "Saturday night adventure."

On Sunday, I trapped Vee into washing our filthy cars even though it was only 40 degrees outside (it was SUNNY!), and then we went to our friends' house to watch the Boss crotch-slam us at half-time. ANYONE ELSE WANT TO WEIGH IN ON THAT?

We also discovered on Sunday that Kiddokabiddo's FIRST TOOTH IS COMING IN! Sharptooth is here! Bottom left incisor! Big girl! She also fell down and bumped her nose, so she got her first boo-boo on the same day. At least she didn't break her tooth!

Anyway, all in all, it was a big weekend for sure, and surprising because I usually get stuck in the winter doldrums in February. NICE WEATHER WILL ALWAYS BRING ME BACK TO MYSELF!

Rain or shine, right?

2009-01-30T20:09:00.004-06:00

My morning and afternoon were pretty busy (in the life of a mom, this counts as busy): I Skyped with My Moroccan Friend again, and then this afternoon I went to pick up a Beco Butterfly to try out from someone on a local babywearing board I belong to.

Two, two, two events in one day!

But that wasn't all! Vee met me after work and took the Kiddokabiddo so I could get A MASSAGE! This was both a THANK-YOU for going to Kansas City + altering my schedule to accommodate his work, and an early Valentine's Day gift since I got a two-pack of massages. ONE MORE TO USE WHENEVER I WANT!

Sanctity of the danktity. My shoulder and leg muscles were jumping, they were so unused to being touched.

It was a gray morning that burnt off into a beautiful, sunny afternoon. The weather got me thinking about how STRONGLY my emotions are tied to whether or not it's a sunny day. When it's a sunny morning, I wake up feeling like I could do ANYTHING! Take a walk? Yeah! Meet a new friend? Why not! Check out that _____ I've been meaning to get to? Absolutely!

But when it's a gray day, I seriously feel like there's no point to doing anything. Leaving the house? WHY BOTHER. My imagination goes completely flat and I feel like ANYTHING isn't worth it. What am I going to do? Go to freaking Borders and sit around? Yet, on a SUNNY day, going to Borders seems like AN INTERESTING ADVENTURE!

We get over 200 sunny days per year (a number which I have been misquoting for years now as "300"--IT FEELS LIKE 300, OK?) so the gray days are pretty minimal here. Which makes me even more surprised by my malaise when it's cloudy out. When I was a kid growing up in The Land of Gray, Oregon, all the cool ideas at the end of Captain Kangaroo ("so many things to do, here are just a few!") used to INSPIRE me and make me beg my dad to take me to the OSU gym (which he had access to, being an activities instructor) and teach me how to do a backwards somersault. WHICH HE DID, God bless him. I don't remember a childhood of gray, cloudy days EVEN THOUGH, living in the Willamette Valley, where clouds get trapped between the Pacific Ocean and the Cascades and just drop their load on the land, that's DEFINITELY what it was.

I remember a childhood of activity! Because we got out of the house, rain be damned, and got involved in the day!

When I'm listening to Kiddokabiddo's sing-along-songs CD and the obnoxious whiny brat girl says, in the middle of "Rain, Rain, Go Away," "Mommy, it's not working!" and then the mom says, "We'll just have to try a little harder!" it infuriates me because the girl needs to learn that the rain will not just go away. You have to learn to play in the rain!

As long as it's not a gray day.

Email guilt.

2009-01-29T13:44:00.003-06:00

I have a guilt-trigger mechanism built into my inbox. It's called "I don't delete an email until I have responded to it." So then my 300 email checks a day are always tempered by the self-induced guilt of "Why am I expecting an email? I HAVEN'T WRITTEN BACK TO ANYONE!"

I used to get that way when I would check the mailbox (the real live one. Remember that one? Where you get bills and ads and everything you ordered on the Internet?) and be disappointed that I didn't have a letter. WHY WOULD I? I HADN'T WRITTEN A LETTER TO ANYONE!

So I started writing real handwritten letters to people. The truth is that they have a return ratio of 5:1 (five letters sent out will get me one back), but I do it anyway. I don't mind--I like sending letters almost as much as I like getting them. Call me the Santa of letter writing--better to give than receive!

But back to my email inbox. I don't know why I do it to myself--I'm not caught up in RIDICULOUS CATHOLIC GUILT (which I am sooooooo unable to relate to. Yes, I am Catholic, but no, I have never understood what "Catholic guilt" is, much less felt it myself. The Catholic Church I was brought up in DID NOT INVOLVE GUILT and as I grew up and everyone was talking smack about how they're A LAPSED CATHOLIC [is anyone a lapsed ANYTHING-OTHER-THAN-CATHOLIC? You never hear them call themselves such] or making weird references to being "a recovering Catholic," I was COMPLETELY unable to understand what they were talking about. SIDEBAR!). I just need it to keep myself on track.

I once kept an email in my inbox for two years. It was the most recent draft of a paper that I was working on with a professor from a class I took extra-curricularly and we were going to submit it to a journal. DID I EVER GET AROUND TO REVISING IT? No. But was I able to forget that I DIDN'T? NOPE!

I owe at least five people emails back. Vee suggests that I just shoot a quick email saying, "Hey, I haven't forgotten about you--I'll send one soon." But that feels like the equivalent of sending a birthday card with "Happy Birthday" preprinted inside and not adding a note of my own.

Sometimes I wish technology only allowed me to check my email once a day. Like checking the real mailbox--email would only be delivered once a day. At least then I wouldn't be banging myself over the head 15 times a day by pretending, THIS TIME, that I'll actually write back right away.

25 at 26!

2009-01-28T09:45:00.003-06:00

Today's blog's going to be a bit of a bummer if you got linked here off of my Facebook, but for those of you who aren't my friends yet, enjoy 25 THINGS ABOUT ME!

1. My hair color has been “Spiced Tea” by Clairol Natural Instincts for over ten years.
2. I’ve lived in six different states (IN, OR, NC, IA, NE, MI), two of them twice.
3. I have over ten fillings in my teeth, almost all of which were installed during high school (thanks, Sprite + Winterfresh!).
4. I had a completely natural and intervention-free childbirth with my daughter.
5. I work from home.
6. I have been out of the country five times in my life: twice across the Montana/Alberta border, once to Toronto, once to Montreal, and once across the Arizona/Mexico border.
7. I have been the editor-in-chief of two lit journals: Tales From the Southside in high school and earthwords in college.
8. I taught myself to read at 3 years old, and was writing at 3.5. So the story goes.
9. While my name has often been mispronounced as “Kristin,” “Kristina,” and occasionally shortened through no invitation of my own to “Kris,” no one has ever mistakenly called me “Kristi.”
10. My grandma named all five of her kids names starting with the letter “K” and my mom named both of her daughters names that started with the letter “K.” I named my daughter a “K” name, but the buck stops there.
11. I think to be a Catholic is to be a Democrat. Which is why I’m both.
12. I worked in a t-shirt shop at Glacier National Park in Montana for four weeks when I was 18. I came home early because I saw a bear.
13. I do all the laundry in our house, but my husband folds all of it.
14. My husband does all of the cooking in our house, but I do all of the baking.
15. Both sides of my family are cancer-free. But everyone on both sides has late-onset diabetes.
16. I was sixteen when I had my first kiss.
17. I didn’t drink coffee AT ALL until one morning at Village Inn in early spring 2001. I put three creamers and two sugars in my cup.
18. I call my brother, or he calls me, every April 29th and we sing the first few lines of “April 29” by the Rembrandts to each other. We’ve been doing this since 1999.
19. I applied for National Honor Society during the first half of my junior year of high school and was rejected. As I won two statewide writing contests, ran in the state track meet, was vice-president of Latin Club, and became a National Merit Finalist throughout that year, I was asked to apply again during my senior year. I rejected on the premise that THEY HADN’T SEEN MY POTENTIAL. Wow. I really showed them!
20. When I was in third grade, I wanted to be an archaeologist, a rock star, an Ultimate Speller, or a model. An Ultimate Speller, in case you were wondering, was kind of like a human dictionary. Except people would pay me for my services.
21. I blog. (see my profile)
22. I became a hypochondriac after my still-unexplained chest pain started in May 2005. I swear I never thought once about the way my body functioned before.
23. I met my best friend in biology class on the second day of freshman year of high school.
24. I met my husband at my 5th annual Cheese Party.
25. I met my daughter four weeks and one day before her due date. SHE DECIDED IT WAS TIME TO MEET ME, and came barreling out, healthy as hell and full-grown.

The Jestin.

2009-01-27T11:38:00.003-06:00

Not that we’re that bougie (WHO AM I KIDDING? I’m about to review ONE OF THE MOST EXPENSIVE HOTEL CHAINS IN AMERICA), but Vee and I have been to several extensions of The Jestin.

We did up in the Jestin-Detroit Airport the night before we left for our honeymoon (Did we get any upgrades for being a thrillfully newly married couple? Nah. NOT EVEN A ROOM UPGRADE! The only good thing about staying at that Jestin was the fact that we got A PRIVATE SECURITY CHECKPOINT available ONLY TO GUESTS OF THE JESTIN so we got to skip all the chuds. And our view of one of the airport hangars.)

We also stayed in the Jestin Copley Place in Boston (on the dime of Vee’s parents) when Vee’s brother, The Lieutenant, was graduating from Haa-vaad and getting commissioned into the U.S. Marine Corps as, yes, a second lieutenant. That place was DANK—we had a sweet view of Cambridge and the Charles River, and it was connected to an expensive “mall” (featuring stores like The Art of Shaving, which sells expensive badger-bristle shaving brushes and likewise olde thyme shaving equipment for exorbitant prices George Washington would have been ashamed of).

What’s so great about the Jestin chain? The Heavenly Beds? The Heavenly Showers? Or just the sheer knowledge that you’re spending over $150 a night in a recession economy?

Well, we were spending ZERO since we’re on Vee’s employer’s dime, so although I have no moral ground to stand on, I’M GONNA DISS THE JESTIN KANSAS CITY ANYWAY.

No phone books (wanted to order a ‘za from the Hut? HOW ABOUT YOU NEED TO PAY $9.95/DAY FOR THE INTERNET SO YOU CAN LOOK THAT NUMBER UP! Or, goodness, just order a $12 “La Provence” pizza from room service and pay the $3.25 delivery charge, PLUS a preset 19.5% gratuity, PLUS tax, and then watch that $12 ‘za turn into $20 when the total is $19.03 and the guy bringing it to you does a fake “pat” on his pockets during the awkward pause when you hand your $20 over FULLY EXPECTING CHANGE SINCE YOU CLEARLY ARE ALREADY PAYING HIM 19.5% FOR TIP and then, out of propriety [or just DISCOMFORT] you are forced to “tip” an extra $0.97, making you feel both extremely cheap and, later, like you got ripped out of another $1).

This was the first time we got the opportunity to try out the HEAVENLY CRIB. Vee called before we arrived to ask about it, and was assured by the front desk staff that “Oh, it’s very nice. Very comfortable.” As Vee and I wondered HOW THIS GUY KNEW THAT (is he BABY-SIZED? Have the babies given “rave reviews” upon check-out?), we still remained upbeat since their Heavenly Beds are full of white fluffy goodness. I was fully expecting a Wendy Bellissimo scenario with little sugarplums dancing over Kiddokabiddo’s head.

The Heavenly Crib, IN CASE YOU ARE WONDERING, is a white metal Graco crib with a thin sheet on the mattress and a prepackaged waffle-weave blanket tossed on top. Have fun, y’all.

(Not that it mattered, since our room had two full-size beds and Vee and I took turns sharing with the Kiddokabiddo while the other one got a Heavenly Full Size Bed to themselves.)

The Jestin Kansas City is apparently undergoing RENOVATION. Some hotels shut down their operations until the renovation is complete; the Jestin KC goes full-force. Which floors are being renovated? Well, the floor directly above us, of course. And work begins at 8:30am sharp, so hope y’all weren’t thinkin’ about sleeping in/have a baby who sleeps longer than that!

Our room, of course, had NOT been renovated yet, so what I am about to say should be read with that in consideration. You should also TAKE INTO CONSIDERATION the fact that Vee’s employer paid $115/night for these luxury surroundings (and that’s a special conference rate).

The popcorn ceilings were literally BURSTING AT THE SEAMS in that special “I think water has leaked through” way that Vee and I were lucky enough to experience in our apartment the first time we lived in our fair city. I RECOGNIZE THE SYMPTOMS, PEOPLE. We had to position the Kiddo’s crib in a place to avoid having her wake up with a mouthful of popcorn.

Then again, popcorn would have been nice. BUT IT WASN'T AN OPTION since there is no microwave (NO MICROWAVE! Hope you can eat that whole “La Provence” pizza at one sitting because YOU CAN’T REHEAT IT, folks. SUPER 8 AT LEAST GIVES YOU A COMMUNAL MICROWAVE TO USE!).

The TV menu WILL CONFUSE YOU AND THEN ANGER YOU! There’s an option to On-Demand shows you “might have missed,” so when I saw that I could catch up on “Real Housewives of Orange County,” I joyfully clicked YES on the remote…until I realized it would be $4.95. Not to be deterred, I went to the channel menu to find Bravo…WHICH IS NOT AN OPTION! How are you gonna go and tell me I can watch RHOC, which is ALWAYS on reruns on Bravo, and then NOT PERMIT ACCESS TO BRAVO IN ANY CAPACITY OTHER THAN A $4.95 ON-DEMAND?!

The lamp in the corner of our room DID NOT HAVE A LIGHT BULB IN IT. Are we in a Motel 6 where people are STEALING THE LIGHT BULBS ON THE WAY OUT or did the Jestin CHEAP OUT ON US?

Our shower was NOT a typical Jestin luxury experience (DUAL SHOWERHEADS and such). Back when this place got its last set of renovations (“Nine years ago,” as our concierge informed us) in 1999, the average height of a traveler was 4”11. Right? Which would explain why the showerhead is mounted at 6” exactly. I’m not that tall, you guys. 5’8”. I only qualify for “tall” in Gap pants sizing (WHY is it so hard to find jeans that do more than graze the tops of my ankles? RIDICULOUS!). But I had to stand like I was pregnant again, belly out, slouched down, in order to get my hair wet. COME ON!

Furthermore, since Kiddokabiddo is chowing down on the solids now, we brought our U-Haul full of “baby food gear” with us, including our dish soap so we could do dishes in the sink. Which would have worked if THE SINK STOPPER WORKED.

The Jestin KC isn’t all crap. There’s a really beautiful five-story waterfall in the lobby made out of limestone that’s ORIGINAL TO THE LOCATION—when the Jestin was built, they just built around the limestone formation and cut it into a waterfall. ECO, dogs! And our concierge went ABOVE AND BEYOND and took Kiddokabiddo’s diapers home, TO HER HOUSE, and did diaper laundry for us since we couldn’t find a place that would use our laundry detergent/our instructions on diaper washing. And we had the most beautiful view of downtown KC that you can imagine—a straight shot from 20 blocks south, 14 floors up.

I'd say more about the good aspects of this Jestin, but I've gotta get this blog on the road—only fifteen minutes left before our $9.95 internet expires.

where the sky is so blue!

2009-01-26T14:11:00.004-06:00

I’m coming to you live from Kansas City, where Vee has a conference, and where Kiddokabiddo and I are living in a hotel room for the next couple of days.

We’re staying at a hotel I’ll call The Jestin (review forthcoming tomorrow), which happens to be attached to a MALL (very Old Capitol-ish in its selection) as well as UNION STATION by a series of UM-Duluthian-style tubes sheltering us from weather. This would have been an intelligent use of civic money if WE WERE SOMEWHERE OTHER THAN KANSAS CITY, where the “summers last until October,” as I was informed by a clerk when I was buying a dress for Kiddokabiddo.

Yesterday, Vee was on break between sessions, and I was sick of strapping Kiddokabiddo into her wrap just to take the 400m trek around the mall, so we ventured through the tubes to Union Station. Union Station is GORGEOUS in that “why don’t we take trains any more?” lamentable way. All Art-Deco and spaciousness. We were marveling at these beautiful old brass bank tables which had been repurposed as USPS delivery confirmation/insurance/etc .holders when we were visited by the Ghost of Union Station Past.

GUSP struck up a conversation with us, informing us that “no one looks up and sees that mural when they come in this room” (AND INDEED! I had not noticed the mural of Westward Expansion, Ho! until he pointed it out) and then told us that the room we were standing in was formerly the men’s bathroom. GUSP then led us underneath a curtain (seriously) into an adjoining room with grand two-story windows and told us that room used to be where “men would wait for their trains and smoke.”

Our GUSP gave us his life story, recounting how he was born in “Pu-eblo, Colorado,” then moved to Denver, then Kansas City when he was in the fourth grade. He pointed through the window to the general neighborhood he grew up in and noted that “those were Depression years, so my job was to come down here to the tracks and pick up coal.”

Did we know why all the old chandeliers used to have exposed light bulbs? We did not. GUSP told us that, back in 1914 when the station was built, not too many people had electricity or had seen light bulbs, so they made all the light fixtures open so that people could gawk at them.

GUSP walked us through the Men’s Smoke Room to a little vestibule currently housing a bulletin board display of train history. “See how they set that up there?” GUSP said, hopping up on the little ledge, “This is where the shoe shine stand used to be.” Like Thomas in the Bible, he put his fingers in the holes on the worn down ground and pointed out where the little shoeshine foot rests used to go. You could see the indents in the marble where decades of shoeshine guys’ knees had worn through. THROUGH ROCK! I’m not kidding!

We were having a boogie time with GUSP, but we had to chow down because Vee had a session to get back to. GUSP walked us back out to the seven-story soaring main room, and told us if we really wanted to, we could take an elevator up to the seventh floor and “walk around in the rooms over those arches.” Vee exclaimed, “But there’s no windows in there—it must be pretty dark.” “Oh yeah,” said GUSP, “the boogerman’s up there. But I’ve been there. Don’t believe a word I say, though.”

The parting words of the Ghost of Union Station Past: “I used to work in one of those offices here—I had a $240,000 contract with one of the steel manufacturers who worked for the railroad. That don’t sound like much nowadays, but it was pretty big back then.”

I’LL SAY!

Our GUSP vanished back into the city and Vee, Kiddokabiddo, and I ate lunch at one of the Harvey House lunch counters. The extraordinarily beautiful vintage Art Deco fixtures (the door handles! The light fixtures! The insets on the walls!), the tales of our GUSP, and my general sad love for the aged days of regular rail travel made Union Station such a REAL place. I lamented to Vee about how, even if people were taking the train the way they used to back then (GUSP also fondly reminisced about how, “back then, you used to get dressed up to travel. Put on your nicest suit, nicest shoes.”), it wouldn’t be the way it is now—that men’s smoke room would be full of business chuds all in their own iPod/BlackBerry/cell phone worlds and no one would be striking up conversations with each other.

(“Like GUSP did with us—just struck up a conversation with strangers—he’s from the old school,” Vee narrated.)

I’m not really one to talk, because beginning conversations with strangers makes me really nervous, but SOMEHOW, ROMANTICALLY, I feel like, if I was a lady taking the train to visit my relatives back in the earlier part of the last century, sitting in what SURELY must have been the counterpart to the Men’s Smoke Lounge (a Ladies’ Sitting Room?), working on my embroidery or knitting, or just sitting with my gloved hands neatly folded, I would pass the time by asking the lady to my left where she was headed.

The Ghost of Union Station Present? RAIL PASSENGERS!

Thanks, Craigslist

2009-01-23T09:16:00.002-06:00

Some people use Craigslist as a way to buy used stuff locally, look for jobs, see if they have any MISSED CONNECTIONS (Why wasn't this available when I was in high school? On second thought, I am sooooooo glad it wasn't, because I would have read it obsessively imagining someone REALLY WANTED TO MEET UP with my introverted high school self).

I use Craigslist as a way of keeping tabs on PLACES I AM NOT LIVING.

Like a coati in a zoo, every few months I find myself circling back on my track to the "housing" section of Eugene, Corvallis, Tucson, Denver, Santa Fe--but usually just Eugene and Corvallis. I find the house I would be mostly likely to rent, and after dreamily clicking through the apts/sublets, and then (hopelessly) through the "real estate for sale," I desperately click on "housing swap." But no one ever wants to swap for a house where I am.

I look at the listings so long, and so hard, I can SEE myself in that life! It's there WAITING for me, the listing is there--I just need to GET there and GET STARTED on WHO I SHOULD BE.

These bi-monthly bouts of self-loathing are often followed by frantic emails to Vee, announcing that THIS IS WHERE WE SHOULD BE LIVING. Vee knows me better than myself, though, and kindly considers my propositions, knowing that I will confront every "logical" reason we should move and eventually talk myself out of it.

If he just told me "YOU'RE CRAZY. NO." I would unleash a tirade of REASONS WHY IT'S ACTUALLY PLAUSIBLE or WHY IT IS NECESSARY FOR ME TO BECOME WHO I WANT TO BE.

But by telling me, "Sure, we can do that," he puts me back in the driver's seat, and I feel responsible for all the upset that COULD occur if my irrational desire for living-wherever-I'm-not took over my usual happiness-for-where-I-am.

It doesn't stop me from seeing myself here, here, but mostly here, the fir trees all around and the hills like a hug, where the street only knew my name.

Socks (Not the Clintons' White House Cat)

2009-01-22T08:16:00.005-06:00

I have a hard time spending money on new socks.

I just need to get that out there, because I might stupefy myself sometimes and pretend I'm getting a good "deal" on a 5/$25 sale at Victoria's Secret on new underwear (AS IF THAT IS A SALE PRICE? Has anyone ever ACTUALLY paid $7.50 for a new pair of cotton undies?), but I will not buy myself new socks. I have stolen socks from my mom and my sister when I'm home visiting in order to replenish my supply, but I do not buy new socks.

Where do you even BUY socks? Vee gets his from this shady bodega on 24th Street (and I say "gets his" even though HE BOUGHT SOCKS THERE 3 YEARS AGO because that's the last time he bought socks either. I bought him socks with a $25 Eddie Bauer gift certificate that he had received for GRADUATING HIGH SCHOOL and had been lost for 7 years, but I digress). I am not shady-bodega-bound.

I think the last time I got new socks (other than Christmas--thanks for the extra floofy wear-around-the-house socks!) was in college. Five years ago. And I think I bought them from American Eagle at an after-Christmas sale.

Do socks just LAST longer, or am I missing something? It seems ridiculous to say this, but I think MY SOCKS ARE OUT OF STYLE, and that's the only thing that's bugging me. You know, like with corny stripes on them. Ok, and with threadbare holes on the balls of the feet (haven't worn through yet!). And nine years worth of stomping-through-puddles-and-snow-melt-getting-inside-my-shoes odor. Yick.

Will spring get here already?

ROME

2009-01-21T19:09:00.007-06:00

Sorry guys--I'm a little late getting this one out today. The Kiddokabiddo was rowdy all morning and afternoon, so I had to take her on a walk through the forest. We had beautiful weather here today (MID 40S + SUN!) so any opportunity to get out of the house IS A GOOD ONE.

Ahhh, yes--I was going to blog about Rome.

Vee and I recently ended our joint viewing of the series (and I am STILL SO pissed that it ended after 2 seasons. TWO SEASONS! Humiliating! And for WHAT?) and got to watch MY FAVORITE TWO EPISODES, the final two episodes: Antony + Cleopatra.

Besides the graphic sex scene with Octavian + Livia (seriously, it was like the makers of the show KNEW it was the end and were like "Hey, let's toss in THE MOST GRAPHIC SEX OF THE ENTIRE SERIES, which is definitely saying something since there were some PRETTY OBVIOUS Antony + Atia scenes), the Cleopatra and Antony scenes are WORTH THE PRICE OF ADMISSION! I love them so much! I love how fraught with DECADENCE the deer-hunting scene is, I love seeing Antony with his Egyptian eyeliner, I love watching Cleopatra crawl up on dead Antony's lap.

One of my paralegal classmates, a girl who was one year younger than me and got married one month before me, turned me on to the series a year ago. And was TURNED ON by the series and had no qualms about sharing that fact with me, and anyone else waiting for Legal Writing II to start. Her accounts of "watching that episode with Octavia and Agrippa in the rented room--rowr!" leading to innuendo where her husband asked her "if she'd been watching Rome again" (BECAUSE OF THE VIOLENT LOVE-MAKING?) did not deter me from Netflixing the whole series and WATCHING OBSESSIVELY. And I don't mean WATCHING in "that" way.

I think I like the series so much because it reminds me of my Latin days back in high school, watching "I Claudius" for, like, five weeks EVEN THOUGH EVERYONE WAS ACTUALLY SLEEPING THROUGH IT AND STEPPE (our Latin teacher) KNEW IT. I wonder if we would have been able to squeak this one by her. My Latin class was BASICALLY just Roman history combined with occasional vocabulary memorization (and RANDOM "You need to decline this!" assignments that everyone failed, yet everyone got As and Bs in the class).

Anybody else watch Rome? Have any love-for-the-antiquated-past series you could recommend?