Happy birthday baby girl. My sweet, feisty, strong, brave, tiny little bug. I can't believe you are three.
You are the baby I didn't know I needed until I had you, and now I can't imagine our family without you. And I do need you, baby girl. I need you and love you so much. Some days it scares me, because I don't want to hurt you or damage you, and parenting a girl scares the ever living shit out of me. Girls are hard, and scary, and fearsome - I know, I am one... but you are so easy to love, and it all comes back to that.
I promise to always love you, my little one. Even when loving you means making you hate me. I want to wrap you up in bubble wrap and protect you from the world, but I can't and should not and won't. I will let you get hurt and make mistakes, and will hold you and rock you. I would take on any hurt you get if I could, be it a scraped knee or a broken heart. Hurting is part of it all, and it sucks, and it kills me to see your tears. May I always be able to kiss them away, may a "Hello Kitty" band-aid always make it better.
You are growing up so fast. I'll let you grow up, I promise. But you will always be my little buggy and I will always love you baby girl. Happy birthday, Clara. I can't wait to see what 3 brings to you.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Rewards
The kids are getting a little addicted to playing with my iPad and Tom's Samsung 10 tablet. And they think our laptops and desk tops are theirs. I try to work, they want to play Star Fall. Tom wants to read the news, they want Angry Birds. Add in some general bratty behavior (Clara flat out ignoring us, George saying "NO!" to every. damn. thing.) and we were done up.
So after chatting with their day care provider, talking to some mom friends, and Googling "bratty toddler behavior" (after having a couple glasses of wine - and I seriously suggest you do not Google that sober), I've come up with a strategy to attack this head on. And yes, I fully expect it to kick me in the ass later, but for now, let's go with it.
The kids now have to earn computer time. Yes, the 4.5-year-old and days-from-turning-3-year-old must now work for screen time. Good behavior, using manners, not throwing a shit fit when it is time for the evening clean-up, going to bed without a fight - all these things will earn tokens that can be traded for 10 minutes of computer time. I was going for 5 minutes, Tom thought 10 was more fair.
So while I do not believe in rewarding for being a member of the family and a good citizen, because that is just what is expected of a member of society, I do think that maybe the kids could use some kind of positive reinforcement... and I am tired of reading BOB books on my iPad when I really want to play Bubble Pop or browse Pinterest.
And I can already see their personalities coining out to the extreme in this - Clara is hoarding her tokens, George earns one and right away asks for the iPad and timer.
So after chatting with their day care provider, talking to some mom friends, and Googling "bratty toddler behavior" (after having a couple glasses of wine - and I seriously suggest you do not Google that sober), I've come up with a strategy to attack this head on. And yes, I fully expect it to kick me in the ass later, but for now, let's go with it.
The kids now have to earn computer time. Yes, the 4.5-year-old and days-from-turning-3-year-old must now work for screen time. Good behavior, using manners, not throwing a shit fit when it is time for the evening clean-up, going to bed without a fight - all these things will earn tokens that can be traded for 10 minutes of computer time. I was going for 5 minutes, Tom thought 10 was more fair.
So while I do not believe in rewarding for being a member of the family and a good citizen, because that is just what is expected of a member of society, I do think that maybe the kids could use some kind of positive reinforcement... and I am tired of reading BOB books on my iPad when I really want to play Bubble Pop or browse Pinterest.
And I can already see their personalities coining out to the extreme in this - Clara is hoarding her tokens, George earns one and right away asks for the iPad and timer.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Song stuck in my head
This song has been playing in my head, off and on all day today. At least I think it was only in my head... although I know I was singing it for a bit, because I caught Clara humming it once or twice.
Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah
http://youtu.be/y8AWFf7EAc4
Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah
http://youtu.be/y8AWFf7EAc4
Friday, April 15, 2011
A Mother's Prayer for her Daughter
This has been floating around the Internet and attributed to Tina Fey. I can neither confirm nor disprove that, and it sounds like her voice, so I'll go with that. It made me laugh out loud, nod my head in agreement, and even tear up a bit. Enjoy!
I will not have it.
First, Lord:
No tattoos.
May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the crystal meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half…and stick with beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from acting but not all the way to finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes and not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord?
Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design?
I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it too dammit.
May she play the drums to the fiery rhythm of her own heart with the sinewy strength of her own arms, so she need NOT lie with drummers.
Grant her a rough patch from twelve to seventeen.
Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, for childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – and adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers and the online marketing campaign for “Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.”
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a BITCH in front of Hollister, give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, for I will not have that shit.
I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.”
And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a mental note to call me.
And she will forget.
But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.
-An excerpt from Tina Fey’s new book -Bossypants, 2011
-An excerpt from Tina Fey’s new book -Bossypants, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Arachnophobia, or why I will never do laundry again
I telework on Wednesdays when a seminar or conference or important meeting doesn't require my presence in DC. Unfortunately, more weeks than not I am in the city, but this week turned out to be "normal" and I got to work from home. I "slept in" (YAY 6:30!), drank my pot of coffee, got the kids up and dressed, dropped them at daycare, ran to Trader Joe's and was home at the time I'm normally walking into my office.
One of the reasons I like teleworking so much is because I get caught up on my laundry - I take a break every hour or so to run downstairs and flip the laundry loads, and then fold it all in the evening (although I pair up our socks during conference calls. Better than playing Angry Birds. NOT that I do that at the office.). I got a ton of work done today and also manged to run most of the laundry through.
Stopped working at 5:00 and ran down to change the laundry one more time before getting the kids. While pulling socks out of the hamper and making sure they were turned the right side out (note to self: teach the kids to do this when they take their socks off) I saw a big black spider. I thought to myself "God I hate those plastic bugs, they are too real looking anymore" and picked the spider up. And it started to crawl in my hand.
Have I ever mentioned my extreme fear of spiders? I know it's irrational, but the little fuckers scare the piss out of me. Literally, in this case. I screamed like a girl, shook it off my hand, peed myself a bit, and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I went into the kitchen and scrubbed my hand and arm with very hot water and soap (to get rid of the spider cooties, of course), took a deep breath, and went back downstairs. You see, when I ran for safety, I left the washer lid open. I needed to close it because my OCD is almost as strong as my arachnophobia and the idea of leaving the house with the washer lid open had me on the verge of hives.
I peeked around the door, and there the bastard sat - in the middle of the floor, like it owned the house. I think it gave me the finger. There was a Tupperware bowl on the dryer (I have no idea why, please don't ask) so I ran in, grabbed the bowl, trapped the spider under it, slammed the washer shut, and ran back up the stairs. I may or may not have been screaming while I did this.
I called Tom while I drove to get the kids to tell him he needed to take care of the spider when he got home. Due to a clusterfuck of an evening (I'll tell you about it later) that didn't happen. So here I sit, two floors above the (hopefully still) trapped spider, nervous and on edge because THERE IS A BIG DAMN SPIDER IN MY HOUSE. What if it gets out from under the bowl? It looked pretty strong. If it gets out, that means it will be loose in my house or it will grab a butcher knife, come upstairs, and slit my throat while I sleep. Or worse, it may sit on me. I could wake up and IT WOULD BE ON ME.
I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight. I certainly won't be finishing the laundry.
UPDATE: Tom went downstairs to check out the situation. The spider was still under the Tupperware bowl (thank God!). He said when he lifted the bowl off, the spider reared back in spider attack mode (oh dear God!) but he caught it up (OH DEAR GOD!) and released it in the back yard. So now I'll be able to sleep tonight. Although I swear I can hear it scratching at the patio door...
One of the reasons I like teleworking so much is because I get caught up on my laundry - I take a break every hour or so to run downstairs and flip the laundry loads, and then fold it all in the evening (although I pair up our socks during conference calls. Better than playing Angry Birds. NOT that I do that at the office.). I got a ton of work done today and also manged to run most of the laundry through.
Stopped working at 5:00 and ran down to change the laundry one more time before getting the kids. While pulling socks out of the hamper and making sure they were turned the right side out (note to self: teach the kids to do this when they take their socks off) I saw a big black spider. I thought to myself "God I hate those plastic bugs, they are too real looking anymore" and picked the spider up. And it started to crawl in my hand.
Have I ever mentioned my extreme fear of spiders? I know it's irrational, but the little fuckers scare the piss out of me. Literally, in this case. I screamed like a girl, shook it off my hand, peed myself a bit, and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I went into the kitchen and scrubbed my hand and arm with very hot water and soap (to get rid of the spider cooties, of course), took a deep breath, and went back downstairs. You see, when I ran for safety, I left the washer lid open. I needed to close it because my OCD is almost as strong as my arachnophobia and the idea of leaving the house with the washer lid open had me on the verge of hives.
I peeked around the door, and there the bastard sat - in the middle of the floor, like it owned the house. I think it gave me the finger. There was a Tupperware bowl on the dryer (I have no idea why, please don't ask) so I ran in, grabbed the bowl, trapped the spider under it, slammed the washer shut, and ran back up the stairs. I may or may not have been screaming while I did this.
I called Tom while I drove to get the kids to tell him he needed to take care of the spider when he got home. Due to a clusterfuck of an evening (I'll tell you about it later) that didn't happen. So here I sit, two floors above the (hopefully still) trapped spider, nervous and on edge because THERE IS A BIG DAMN SPIDER IN MY HOUSE. What if it gets out from under the bowl? It looked pretty strong. If it gets out, that means it will be loose in my house or it will grab a butcher knife, come upstairs, and slit my throat while I sleep. Or worse, it may sit on me. I could wake up and IT WOULD BE ON ME.
I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight. I certainly won't be finishing the laundry.
UPDATE: Tom went downstairs to check out the situation. The spider was still under the Tupperware bowl (thank God!). He said when he lifted the bowl off, the spider reared back in spider attack mode (oh dear God!) but he caught it up (OH DEAR GOD!) and released it in the back yard. So now I'll be able to sleep tonight. Although I swear I can hear it scratching at the patio door...
Friday, March 11, 2011
Five years ago
Five years ago today, Tom and I were married.
It was a beautiful, sunny day, warmer than usual for mid-March. I spent the morning hanging out with Julee, Lindsee and Gretchen - Lin got her hair done while Julee and I went to Starbucks in the plaza the hair place was in, and then we all popped into the grocery store to get flowers for my bouquet and Tom's boutonniere.
Back to Gretchen's to put together the flowers and get dressed - Julee patiently did up all the buttons on the back of my dress - and a few pictures, then off to St. Mary's for the ceremony. I wasn't really nervous, but wanted to get the show on the road.
Evan and Sam walked their respective grandmothers up the aisle, then Lin and Mary walked. Madilyn brought up the rear with Gretchen, but half way up decided she was done and ran to her father. Finally, Andy gave me his arm and we walked up to where Tom and his dad were standing. The whole way up the aisle, Andy whispered things to me to make me smile and laugh, taking the edge of any tenseness I had. The smile on Tom's face when we stood beside him melted away any last bits of worry or fear I may have had.
I don't remember much about the ceremony itself. Mike Paris was there, serving on our wedding (and a few years later he stood up as Clara's Godfather). I played with my rosary and kept looking at Tom and everyone in the pews. I remember liking the sermon at the time but can't for the life of me tell you what Fr. Mike said.
I do remember tearing up a bit during our vows, but when the ring was put on my finger and we kissed, I also knew it was the best decision I had ever made, to marry this man.
Our reception was fun, just a really good time. When I arrived, Nick G, who was president of the association I worked at, was behind the bar mixing cocktails. People ignored the seating chart and just kind of flowed into the room, mixing our friends and family together in a way I couldn't have gotten right but that worked out for the best.
We had an awesome band, the food was good - Lisa and Laura made me a plate, took me by the hand, and made me sit down to eat, one on each side of me so they could chat with anyone who came by. At one point, Andy handed me a beer and said I needed to stay true to my PA roots. We didn't do any of the "traditional" reception things, the dances and toasts, because those things just weren't "us." Instead, it was more like a big cocktail party. My cousins and Tom's cousins got together to toast us with shots of tequila. Tom did a better job than I at making sure all of the guests were greeted and spoken to.
When it was over, a few friends and family remained and we relaxed around a table, chatting and laughing, while Patty took her turn with the tiny buttons on the back of that dress. I wrapped my shawl around me so I wouldn't flash everyone, and holding hands we headed home. In the parking lot of the hotel, a couple hockey teams were loading up onto buses; they stopped to "applaud" us by banging their sticks on the ground and the bus windows.
We went out to lunch today since Tom couldn't get off work, and we talked about about making it this far. And I told Tom honestly that at the heart of it is the fact that I like him, I like being with him and spending time with him. Yes I love him, but you can love people you don't really like, and we are lucky to have the like, the friendship, on top of the love. Don't get me wrong, there are days I would happily stick a fork in his head (and I am sure he would say the same about me) but in the end, when push comes to shove, when we are fed up with each other and work and life and everything... we like each other. And we love each other.
I can't believe 5 years have gone by. In some ways it seems like yesterday, in others it feels like we have been together forever. We got married fast - 9 months to the day of our first date, and we only dated 5 or 6 weeks when marriage was brought up. The past 5 years have not been easy, and parts have been downright hard. But we've stuck through it, and stuck together. And I don't regret a minute of it, and can't wait to see what the future brings.
Happy anniversary, Tom. I love you. With all my heart and soul.
The wedding party. The "bridesmaids" are now teenagers, the "ushers" are turning into young men, and our flower girl is in kindergarten.
We did dance once at the reception, when Tom's cousin Michael stepped in for a song while the band was on break. Is it wrong that I look at this picture and see not only how happy we were but how awesome my arms were from karate?
One of my favorite pictures from the reception. Just relaxing and enjoying being together.
(All of these pictures were taken by a very talented young photographer named Maggie Winters. She was in high school when she photographed our wedding, and has since taken pictures of our kids - those awesome ones on the side of the blog... she took them. I can't recommend her enough. You can reach her on Facebook or through www.maggiewinters.com)
It was a beautiful, sunny day, warmer than usual for mid-March. I spent the morning hanging out with Julee, Lindsee and Gretchen - Lin got her hair done while Julee and I went to Starbucks in the plaza the hair place was in, and then we all popped into the grocery store to get flowers for my bouquet and Tom's boutonniere.
Back to Gretchen's to put together the flowers and get dressed - Julee patiently did up all the buttons on the back of my dress - and a few pictures, then off to St. Mary's for the ceremony. I wasn't really nervous, but wanted to get the show on the road.
Evan and Sam walked their respective grandmothers up the aisle, then Lin and Mary walked. Madilyn brought up the rear with Gretchen, but half way up decided she was done and ran to her father. Finally, Andy gave me his arm and we walked up to where Tom and his dad were standing. The whole way up the aisle, Andy whispered things to me to make me smile and laugh, taking the edge of any tenseness I had. The smile on Tom's face when we stood beside him melted away any last bits of worry or fear I may have had.
I don't remember much about the ceremony itself. Mike Paris was there, serving on our wedding (and a few years later he stood up as Clara's Godfather). I played with my rosary and kept looking at Tom and everyone in the pews. I remember liking the sermon at the time but can't for the life of me tell you what Fr. Mike said.
I do remember tearing up a bit during our vows, but when the ring was put on my finger and we kissed, I also knew it was the best decision I had ever made, to marry this man.
Our reception was fun, just a really good time. When I arrived, Nick G, who was president of the association I worked at, was behind the bar mixing cocktails. People ignored the seating chart and just kind of flowed into the room, mixing our friends and family together in a way I couldn't have gotten right but that worked out for the best.
We had an awesome band, the food was good - Lisa and Laura made me a plate, took me by the hand, and made me sit down to eat, one on each side of me so they could chat with anyone who came by. At one point, Andy handed me a beer and said I needed to stay true to my PA roots. We didn't do any of the "traditional" reception things, the dances and toasts, because those things just weren't "us." Instead, it was more like a big cocktail party. My cousins and Tom's cousins got together to toast us with shots of tequila. Tom did a better job than I at making sure all of the guests were greeted and spoken to.
When it was over, a few friends and family remained and we relaxed around a table, chatting and laughing, while Patty took her turn with the tiny buttons on the back of that dress. I wrapped my shawl around me so I wouldn't flash everyone, and holding hands we headed home. In the parking lot of the hotel, a couple hockey teams were loading up onto buses; they stopped to "applaud" us by banging their sticks on the ground and the bus windows.
We went out to lunch today since Tom couldn't get off work, and we talked about about making it this far. And I told Tom honestly that at the heart of it is the fact that I like him, I like being with him and spending time with him. Yes I love him, but you can love people you don't really like, and we are lucky to have the like, the friendship, on top of the love. Don't get me wrong, there are days I would happily stick a fork in his head (and I am sure he would say the same about me) but in the end, when push comes to shove, when we are fed up with each other and work and life and everything... we like each other. And we love each other.
I can't believe 5 years have gone by. In some ways it seems like yesterday, in others it feels like we have been together forever. We got married fast - 9 months to the day of our first date, and we only dated 5 or 6 weeks when marriage was brought up. The past 5 years have not been easy, and parts have been downright hard. But we've stuck through it, and stuck together. And I don't regret a minute of it, and can't wait to see what the future brings.
Happy anniversary, Tom. I love you. With all my heart and soul.
 | |||||
| My eBay dress, grocery store flowers, and H&M Headband |
(All of these pictures were taken by a very talented young photographer named Maggie Winters. She was in high school when she photographed our wedding, and has since taken pictures of our kids - those awesome ones on the side of the blog... she took them. I can't recommend her enough. You can reach her on Facebook or through www.maggiewinters.com)
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Weigh-in Wednesday
Yeah, I know. I'm sucking out at this blogging thing. Again. Sue me.
Anyway, I didn't want to get on the scale this morning because it was another less-than-banner week. I mean, I had beer and cookie dough for dinner one night. I swear I feed the kids real, nutritious food. They eat much better than I do, in fact. And of course they are both underweight. Hhhhhmmmmm...
So I woke up early to go into DC for a meeting and figured f'ck it, put on my big girl panties (well... actually, I took them off. Weigh nekkid and all that).
And lo and behold, I'm down again. A whole half a pound. As in .5. Whatevs, I'll take it.
And I'll try to take better care of myself this week. I'm exhausted. I'm having a hard time focusing and staying on task, and considering some of the projects on my desk right now I need to get that under control. So this week, I'm going to try to sleep better. As in go to bed earlier, not hit the snooze alarm five times - when it goes off, get up. We'll see how that goes, I've never been an early to bed kind of girl.
Anyway, I didn't want to get on the scale this morning because it was another less-than-banner week. I mean, I had beer and cookie dough for dinner one night. I swear I feed the kids real, nutritious food. They eat much better than I do, in fact. And of course they are both underweight. Hhhhhmmmmm...
So I woke up early to go into DC for a meeting and figured f'ck it, put on my big girl panties (well... actually, I took them off. Weigh nekkid and all that).
And lo and behold, I'm down again. A whole half a pound. As in .5. Whatevs, I'll take it.
And I'll try to take better care of myself this week. I'm exhausted. I'm having a hard time focusing and staying on task, and considering some of the projects on my desk right now I need to get that under control. So this week, I'm going to try to sleep better. As in go to bed earlier, not hit the snooze alarm five times - when it goes off, get up. We'll see how that goes, I've never been an early to bed kind of girl.
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