Thirtysomething

Packing Up a Life

2010-06-29T07:32:00.001-07:00

You probably already know, either from Facebook or real life, that I'm relocating about 2 hours from Philadelphia. Except one reader who likely didn't know and is probably doing a happy dance now. You're welcome.

At any rate. So the last time I packed up and moved, I didn't have any kids. It is decidedly more difficult to pack with children. You know that part of packing where like everything is sort of all over the place? Yeah, it's hard to child-proof that pile of crap. So everything must go into boxes immediately. And those boxes must be out of reach of little people. Which, when you're living in 1100 square feet, is not easy. I've only just started and the movers come in a week.

I don't know how much I'll post between now and then. Maybe a lot. Maybe not at all. But once I'm settled in the new place, I will. I promise.

I'm going to really miss this town.

The Evolution of Knowing What I've Always Known

2010-06-14T10:10:00.000-07:00

Since the beginning of my adulthood, I've realized that the relationship I have with my parents isn't going to change. My head knows to accept this and yet, I can't help but wish it were different. I'm not sure there's anything I could or can do differently, but that doesn't stop the wheels in my head from spinning.

Since my early 30s, another thought has crept in and that is when either or both of my parents pass on, I know I'm going to be left with the heartbreaking feeling that it's too late. All chances gone. Possibility of reconciliation: zero. It will be final, then, that our relationship will end in the opposite manner of it beginning. I was the first child, the one who brought so much joy to their lives. The end of the story will be different. I will be the one with words left unsaid and too much time wasted.

I think John Mayer is a total douchebag who runs his mouth too much. But one of his completely overplayed songs hits home.

Have no fear for givin in
Have no fear for giving over
You better know that in the end
It's better to say too much
Than to never say what you need to say again

Even if your hands are shakin'
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closin'
Do it with a heart wide open

Say what you need to say.

He'll Either Be a Cop or a Bounty Hunter

2010-06-04T06:49:00.000-07:00

Rolo ("reading" Where the Wild Things Are): Look Mommy, that boy is going to look for bad guys.

Me: Hmmm...I don't think so. I don't think he's looking for bad guys.

Rolo: What he doing then?

Me: I think he's going to look for an adventure.

Rolo: Looking for bad guys is an adventure.

4 Months and 2.75 Years

2010-06-02T12:03:00.000-07:00

Swiss Miss is trying her damnedest to turn over. I am so not ready for that. She is one of the sweetest babies I've met though. Of course, I'm biased but she's so laid back. She doesn't like to be left out the conversation and will voice her frustration if the rest of the family is at the dinner table and she's stuck over in her swing. But otherwise, not much seems to bother her. Her cheeks are ridiculous. I feast on them daily. She's started laughing and it's at that awkward phase where it sounds like she's trying to clear her throat. Adorable. Her hands are constantly in her mouth and I think she's on the verge of teething. Something else I'm not ready for.

She is constantly, constantly fascinated by her brother.

Rolo, on the other hand, is a whirling dervish. Like most kids his age, he's a little bit like a person with untreated bipolar disease. Charming one moment and a maniac the next. But there's lots more good than bad. He's a whiz at counting. The number 14 trips him up for some reason. He tells me things like, "I have two toys and if I take one, then I only got one", which is his version of math.

The other night I was telling him that I needed to make him an appointment with the dentist and our conversation went like this:
R:NOOOOOOOO! NO dentist!
Me: What? The dentist is fine. The dentist is fun.
R: No, no dentist.
Me: How come you don't like the dentist? You've never been to a dentist.
R: I don't want a shot!
Me: Oh. The dentist doesn't give you a shot, bug. No shots. (I realize it's conceivable that he could get a novacaine shot, but I'm keeping it simple here)
R: Oh. So what he do, then?
Me: He brushes your teeth and looks in your mouth.

I love that Rolo is at an age where he can rationalize somewhat and can ask appropriate questions. His sentence structure still needs some work, but I love that he asks things like "What he do then?".

He lacks patience and he watches too much TV. He probably gets his way too often. But he's smart and funny and very caring.

Two kids is good. I like having two.

Simple

2010-05-22T18:12:00.000-07:00

Today was A Day. For no particular reason, I felt anxious. I had too, too much to do. I had too, too little time. I was short on patience with the kids. I felt claustrophobic. We had plans to visit with Ron's friends this afternoon. In the end, I sent Rolo with him, while the baby and I stayed home. I needed to get things done. Trivial things: returning clothes for the kids, buying other warm weather clothes that they need, paying bills, vacuuming. But needed to be done, they were. I knew that would make me feel better.

Rolo woke up from his nap in A Mood. Did not particularly want to go with Daddy to see his friends. I felt a little bad about making him go, because all the other kids were much older than him. After they left, I worried that Rolo would feel left out trying to keep up with the older kids or, worse, that the older kids wouldn't want to play with him.

Later, I called Ron, who told me that Rolo was playing wiffle ball. He must have realized it was me on the phone because 30 seconds later, I heard him ask Ron to talk to me.
"Hi, Mommy!"
"Hi, bud. Are you playing baseball?"
"Yes!"
"Are you having fun?"
"Yes! I'm playing with my friends!"

Oh bud. I hope it's always so easy for you to make new friends.

2.5

2010-03-30T18:35:00.000-07:00

Last month, Rolo turned two and a half.

I'll start with the bad. Although, to be fair, just weeks before turning two and a half, we introduced a tiny screaming baby into his world, so it's hard to tell whether the "bad" is because of that or is just a function of being two and a half. Up until recently, we totally lucked out in the tantrum department. Sure, he talks back, says "no" a lot and requires constant negotiation. But he didn't really engage in full-blown screaming fits. But since two and a half happened, there have been a handful. Still, not too many, so we're still pretty lucky. One time though, he screamed so much, he actually popped capillaries in his face and had red dots around his temples for 3 days. Not fun. Also, a sudden and and intense refusal to go to bed. Fortunately, this has dissipated, but for about 4 weeks, the child would break down at bedtime. This one, I'm racking up to some sort of reaction to having a new baby in the house. He's also very clingy with me. Not when I expected, which was was I was holding the new baby. Instead he'd freak out if I left the room. Or God forbid needed to actually leave the apartment without him. Suddenly he was the kid clinging to his mom's leg every morning at day care drop-off. Again, this has sort of stopped, so this may be another reaction-to-the-new-baby thing. Lastly, he staunchly refuses to have anything to do with a potty.

But the good? Is very good. He talks about manatees. And African safaris. He "reads" books. He wants to count everything. He can spell his name. He can pick out about 75% of the alphabet letters correctly. He mimics my tone of voice and it's hysterical. He uses slang phrases correctly. He tells stories that make me laugh. He does tricks. He tells jokes. He likes to color and paint.

Most important of all is how much he loves his sister. I honestly expected him to be jealous. I expected him to act out against her. None of that materialized. We brought home a new little person who reduced the attention he received from us in half and he couldn't love her more. He always wants to know where she is. He lights up when he sees her. He gives her kisses. He yells "Don't worry, I coming to get you!" while running upstairs (with me) to get her out of her crib in he mornings. He tells her "Don't cry, I right here" when she's sad. He reads her books. He shows her toys. All without me prompting him to do so. Yes, he can be a little rough sometimes, but he's two.

I couldn't be more proud. Honestly, some days I feel like my heart will break open with pride. He's a good kid. He's a really, really good kid.

10 weeks

2010-03-22T17:28:00.001-07:00

So my little Swiss Miss is already 10 weeks old and I haven't really posted a thing about her.

Let's see. About her:
She was born with a ton of hair. It continues to grow at an alarming rate.

She does not like to be disturbed while resting.

She is neater than her brother: she doesn't spit up and her poop stays in her diaper. That said, she burps and farts like a drunken frat boy.

She took to nursing immediately. As in, she was born, literally, making a sucking motion. She just recently found her thumb and is in complete heaven.

Her eyes, for now, are blue.

Her skin, unfortunately, is very dry and she has eczema and cradle cap something fierce.

It seems that she may have food allergies as well as reflux.

She doesn't really mind tummy time.

She loves to smile.

She loves to coo.

*******

Let's see. About me:

Having two kids is logistically as much of a pain in the ass as I thought it would be. That said, it's not as hard in other ways I thought it would be.

I'm on a restricted diet as a result of the aforementioned food allergies. No milk, eggs or soy ingredients for me. As an aside, I'd like to point out that with Rolo I pumped exclusively for over six months and now with this one, I've given up eating most foods that are delicious. I deserve some sort of mothering award, no?

I enjoy walking around the city with Swiss Miss.

I have no desire to return to work. This confuses me.

Having the benefit of experience, it seems having a newborn this time is infinitely easier. Not nearly as much frustration or depression. I attribute this to both the experience factor and that I had simply less to lose this time.

I love nursing her.

In the afternoons, she and I take naps on my bed. We look at each other as we drift off to sleep. It is my favorite time of day and I am very sad it will come to an end.

I am completely in love.

After Birth

2010-02-01T13:09:00.001-08:00

I promise I will soon post my labor story and more tidbits about my daughter, who is lovely. But today I want to talk about what happened after her delivery.

After I had Rolo, I had a retained placenta. The OB had to go in and retrieve it, which took some time, but he was able to do it in the delivery room without surgical intervention. I had an epidural at the time and while I felt some pressure and mild discomfort while it was being removed, it was, in the grand scheme of things, no big deal.

For the record, one's placenta is pretty much supposed to deliver itself after the baby without much hoopla.

So...with my little girl, my labor was so fast that I had a natural delivery and my mind was so blown away by this development that a retained placenta was the last thing on my mind. Until, that is, my baby girl was being doted on by my husband in the delivery room and I noticed the OB team was becoming increasingly frantic about this placenta situation. "Oh yeah," I said, "This happened last time too."

The striking difference this time, of course, was the complete absence of pain medication. So for an hour I had to endure the OB's (a female, thankfully) with her entire forearm up my whoo-ha pulling the placenta out in pieces. Sorry, hope you weren't eating lunch. It was completely horrifying, hands down the worst pain in my life and way worse than the delivery itself.

But finally, it was over, recovery was pretty easy and I was back to my normal actitivies in no time. I slipped into a routine and being the mother of two instead of one was not the awful transition I anticipated.

Then, 12 days after my daughter was born, I started to bleed. A lot. More than one should safely bleed. I was home by myself with the two kids and more than a little panicky. I started to cry, alternating thoughts between "This is no big deal, panicking will not help" and "What will happen if the bleeding doesn't stop and I pass out? Who can watch the kids?" I was not so concerned for myself as I was for them. My husband rushed home and my in-laws rushed over to watch the kids. Ron and I headed to the ER, where I was convinced they'd just send me home.

But no. A pelvic exam (and trust me, I was none too pleased to see stirrups again so soon) revealed a concerning level of bleeding and an ultrasound confirmed "retained product" in my uterus. Basically, there was likely still placenta in there. Or...it could be a fibroid, an absorbed twin or a tumor. But likely it was retained placenta.

So, I was admitted to the hospital for a D&C scheduled for sometime the next day. The doctor explained the risks, since I was less than 2 weeks postpartum: it was possible that they wouldn't be able to control the bleeding because my uterus was so soft. And they weren't exactly sure what they'd find once they were in there. It was possible that I'd need interventional radiologist to go up though arteries. It was possible that I'd need a hysterectomy. Which displeased me because, even though I don't plan on having any more children, I am rather attached to all my lady bits.

The next day dragged on...I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything, which made me pretty grumpy. I kept fantasizing about foods like chicken parm and chocolate milkshakes. My husband, who is wonderful, would later bring me both.

I was finally on the schedule for the procedure mid-afternoon. More with the talking to me about risks, and about general anesthesia. Guess what? Turns out I have a total fear of "going under". I never knew this about myself. I did not, DID NOT, want to be intubated. A nurse, "my" nurse as it turned out, came over, introduced herself and what I can only imagine was her recognizing the terror on my face, said kindly "I'm going to take really good care of you." Ron stayed with me until the last minute and tried to distract me by talking to me about all the food I could finally eat afterwards.

I was wheeled away, trying not to cry again (I knew that a D&C was no big deal in the grand scheme of things, but bear in mind, post-partum hormones here. Greeting card commercials could make me cry). The route to the O.R. looked like the back room of a cafeteria to me, with lots of shelves and trays but minus any food. As they laid me back, I looked up at a very large light above me and thought, "That looks just like a light they would have in an O.R. on TV." The last thing I remember is someone cursing that I had two, TWO, hospital gowns on and then a mask going over my face. And then...nothing.

Later, I woke up with a nurse beside me. The OB came over immediately and started explaining to me what had happened. Something about losing a lot of blood..and I knew I wasn't really comprehending everything she was saying. She said she already spoke with Ron and I stupidly said, "He's a doctor, you can tell him the whole story and he'll understand." The OB look slightly horrified that she had probably dumbed down the story for a fellow physician and rushed off to find him.

The rest of the night was a blur. What I thought was the anesthesia making me weak and out-of-it was really anemia. Pink dots kept on appearing everywhere but I had the presence of mind to tell Ron, who stayed with me all night, when I felt like I was on the verge of passing out. The medical residents decided I needed a catheter and I was too tired to protest. You know what? Getting a catheter without having any paid meds? Yeah, undesirable. Turns out that I can grit through real pain, but I'm a total wimp as it relates to general discomfort. Between the catheter and an abandoned IV on the inside of my elbow that they wanted to leave in "just in case" they needed it, I was cursing like a sailor.

Ron checked my pressure regularly and was generally displeased with the level of care I was receiving. The next day, when I couldn't stand up without falling down, a different OB, the one who delivered Rolo and who I like a lot, came in to talk to me about a blood transfusion. So...a blood transfusion it was. Which, since I've often donated blood, I thought was an interesting "circle of life" type moment.

All in all, I wound up being in the hospital about 3 and a half days, which is actually longer than when I had the baby to begin with. I was shocked by how awful I felt. I missed my kids terribly. I wasn't worried about the baby, because I knew she didn't know if I was home or not, but I was worried about Rolo. He had a hard time when I went into the hospital to have the baby and now I was away again. When I finally saw him, he ran into my arms and gave me the biggest hug ever.

And I cried.

A Time to Be Born, A Time to Die

2010-01-19T10:50:00.000-08:00

Ron's friend, the one with cancer, passed away this weekend. Even though it was expected, I was surprised how quickly it happened, and when Ron told me, it sort of knocked the wind out of me.

We had a baby girl nine days ago. Pregnancy and post-pregnancy hormones can make one overly emotional, but I can't stop thinking about Ron's friend's family, his widow and his little boy. I can't imagine doing what I do every day on my own and I'm so ever thankful for the health of those I love.

All In a Day's Work

2010-01-08T08:01:00.000-08:00

Yesterday something happened that I knew would eventually occur, just a matter of time. A crazy student showed up wanting to meet with me unannounced.

I've met with plenty a displeased student. In the course of my career, there are students who are angry with me for one reason or another. That's fine, I don't worry about those too much and if they want to meet with me, well, sure, why not.

It's the crazy ones that worry me. Sometimes that's a fine line, the crazy vs. the angry. But it's worst when the student is both.

I evicted this particular student 4 years ago. On paper, it was because she engaged in disruptive behavior that negatively impacted the community. In reality, she's the only student I've ever tried to get involuntarily committed. It was not pretty.

So 4 years pass without a word from here and suddenly here she is wanting to see me. Pronto. Thankfully, I happened to be on the phone and I have a wonderful staff who ran some interference. There are very few people who I will not meet with. There are very few people who make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. But she falls into both camps. I made some calls after that. I'm fortunate that some of my closest allies on-campus are the Security Director and Legal Counsel. These are excellent people to have in your corner. The student is now restricted from campus.

This student never threatened me. She has displayed no propensity towards violence. I have no real reason to believe she wanted to do anything other than speak to me. Although, after 4 years, a disgruntled person showing up to speak with you is rarely good news. I told my lawyer friend, when he asked why I didn't have him pulled out meeting for this "emergency", that I figured I was probably blowing the whole situation out of portion. His response, "We don't have the luxury of making that assumption anymore."

Campus violence is on the rise. Everyone remembers Virginia Tech, but there are dozens and dozens of others that didn't get as much press. Then there was this, which involved students I know and level of violence that no one wanted to believe could happen.

I feel like if I ever have to write a dissertation, I think it's going to involve the increasing danger on college campuses.

Genius

2010-01-04T18:44:00.001-08:00

I know every parent is slightly biased about their own kid. It's impressive to see your baby, who used to be able to do NOTHING, really take an active interest in learning. And learning more than just about how to eat and walk and other basic necessities. I'm talking about school-type learning.

Rolo can spell his name. He occasionally gets the "a" (in his real name) confused with "b". But he gets the whole thing right most of the time. He can also correctly pick out the following letters: a, b, c, d, j, k, l, m, n, o, and w. Sometimes z. He had letters that float in the tub that have helped him with this, as well as that toddler computer I mentioned that he's been doing letter with. He still makes mistakes, even with the letters he "knows" but he gets them right more often than not--enough that I really think he knows them.

He can also count to 20--and by that I mean he recites numbers 1 through 20. In addition, he can also count off how many objects he has or is looking at, but only up to about 10. It took him awhile to get the hang of counting objects and he'll sometimes still count the same thing twice, but in the last week he's really gotten the hang of it.

Also? He's been telling me, with varying levels of success, his left from his right. He'll hold something in his right hand and say "This the right one", then switch hands and say "This the left one". Again, he sometimes gets it wrong, but he often gets it right--especially when he does it on his own, not with me prompting him to perform.

Clearly, he's a genius.

ETA: And I forgot to mention shapes! He knows circle, square and triangle. Same as with everything else--he doesn't have 100% accuracy but he gets them right more often than not. And as seems to be the case with all his learning, he's more accurate when he just picks out a shape on his own. Sometimes he'll say "Look, Mommy, a circle!" or I'll overhear him naming the shapes in a book. But if I start asking him what shape is what out of the blue, it's more likely he'll give me a wrong answer. Which, maybe is because he's unsure, or may be his deliberate way of telling me to stop treating him like a circus pony. Probably the latter.

More With the Sad

2009-12-29T09:58:00.000-08:00

A couple of posts ago, I wrote about Ron's friend who has terminal cancer. Ron and a group of his friends went to visit this friend this past weekend. All the guys were pretty nervous about it, because none would it, but this was essentially a visit to say goodbye while Bob was still well enough to be at home and have a beer.

The situation with Bob has clearly gotten to Ron. I mean, he's avoided it. Avoided talking about it. Avoided dealing with it. So, I was really proud of him for going to visit Bob because I wasn't sure he would. Although, I was sure he'd regret NOT visiting him. Just like he regrets not checking in on Battle, even though he didn't actually know Battle was dying.

As part of Ron's job, he deals with death all the time (okay, maybe not all the time, but often enough to be pretty much unphased by it), but as one might imagine, it's different when the person dying is someone you know. Someone who used to be your drinking buddy. Someone your age.

Bob had a frank, sidebar conversation with Ron, presumably because he thought Ron could handle--more so than the other friends--the topic of death. Ron said he seems at peace with all but two things: that his nearly-three year old son will forget him and that his wife (who is younger than me) will allow this to define the rest of her life and won't pursue new happiness.

I just can't imagine.

Made It

2009-12-28T07:14:00.000-08:00

One of my fears was going into labor right before Christmas. Because I didn't want to be stuck in the hospital and miss the little dude opening all his gifts. Now that Christmas is over, I suppose anytime is good enough to go into labor, but I'd still prefer to go around my due date, January 12th.

Rolo didn't really start talking about the baby until the last few days. I would mention it, but he never brought it up on his own. But yesterday, we talked about the "new baby" (I'm trying to get out of the habit of saying that--"new baby"--it sounds like a replacement) and then he woke up from his nap later in the day, it was ALL he could talk about. He must have dreamed about the baby because I was getting some story about how the baby gave him a blue animal blanket.

Speaking of which, I have a decide on a present to give Rolo from the baby. Originally, it was going to be this. It's something I still want to get him eventually, but looking around my post-Christmas apartment, I honestly don't know where we'd put it. One of the Christmas presents Ron was most excited to give Rolo was a basketball hoop, which is amazingly large. Like, the box was deceivingly small. Pieces kept on coming out and by the time it was assembled, it took over half the apartment. That combined with a railroad track, an art easel and new desk, and I don't think a mini piano is in the cards right now.

So what to get....

Rolo, however, has a very firm idea about what HE wants to get the baby. He's really into giraffes right now, and saw a "Sophie the Giraffe" on a parenting magazine cover and was all about it. I explained that particular giraffe was a baby toy and then, on a whim, mentioned that we could go to the store one day and he could buy that for the baby. WELL. Since then, every time we go to a store, even the grocery store, he's been about finding the giraffe. Which I haven't found only because I haven't looked very hard. I'd love to think it's super-sweet that Rolo wants so desperately to find this toy for his little brother or sister, but in reality, I think he's using the baby as a cover to buy something HE wants. He ain't no fool.

Rolo, by the way, LOVED Christmas--what kid doesn't? And it's amazing what a bunch of new toys will do to distract one from the TV. Which is wonderful. So we've spent many hours cooking things up in his new tabletop kitchen, working on the alphabet on his new (toddler) computer), drawing Christmas trees on his easel and of course, playing basketball and trains. It's a wonderful time of year.

Christmas

2009-12-22T09:37:00.000-08:00

I can tell you this about this Christmas season: I've realized that nothing may be quite so fun as your kid "getting" Christmas for the first time. Rolo is basking in the glory of all that is holiday-related. His awe and enthusiasm is contagious. Just a couple of months ago, when I spoke of Christmas, he looked at me like I had 3 heads. But now that he sees it--the decorations, nativities--Santa, he gets it.

When he and Ron went to pick out a tree a couple of weeks ago, you would have thought we had won the lottery. There was a Christmas tree. IN HIS HOUSE. To a two year old, that's as good as it gets. Several days later, I put a wreath on the front door in the middle of the afternoon. I had forgotten I had done it until I brought Rolo home from daycare and he about jumped out of his stroller, yelling "LOOK! Mommy, Christmas on our door!"

His head is totally going to explode Christmas morning.

It's charming. I love Christmas time. But, as cliche as this sounds, seeing it through the eyes of a child getting it for the first time is...amazing. People complain about the "terrible two's" and, certainly, two year olds have their moments when you want to chuck them out the window. But honestly, they are so fascinated by everything around them, so open to learning about new things, that two might be my favorite age yet.

Other Things I Can't Imagine

2009-12-09T10:06:00.000-08:00

One of Ron's friends is dying. Of cancer. After battling it with some success over the last few years, it's now spread to the point where even experimental treatments aren't worth trying. I can't imagine that. I can't imagine getting to the point where doctors tell you there aren't any options left.

I can't decide if knowing that you're going to die young is more or less cruel than if you were to die suddenly. On one hand you get to plan, say the long goodbye, do the things you want to do. On the other hand, I'm not sure how you resist the urge to curl up into a ball and just give up.

This particular friend spent some years married to a woman none of the other friends like, mostly because she didn't "allow" him to see his friends. And so, for nearly a decade , Ron lost touch with him. Then he divorced, found someone new and decided to remarry. The new wife encouraged him to resume contact with all his friends. Ron was in his wedding. They seem perfectly happy and his wife seems very nice. They had a son some months before we had Rolo.

Then came the cancer diagnosis.

I can't help but think about his wife. She's younger than I and faced with the certainty of becoming a widow soon. How do you deal with that? The burden of having to remain strong for your son's sake? How do you plan for the last Christmas you'll spend as a family?

This is the second of Ron's friends who will pass away in as many years. Not from suicide or drug overdoses, but from actual medical conditions. Ron is, as much as Ron will allow for such things, heavy-hearted these days. Ron is only 6 years older than myself. I didn't expect we'd start losing people this soon.

So I worry about Ron in a way I didn't several years ago: what he's eating, whether he's exercising, whether his blood pressure is high. He's becoming the stereotypical (and ironic) cardiologist: the overweight guy who eats cheese steaks. He is not old--he might be the youngest 40 year old I've ever known. But he's not young either and we can't pretend that lifestyle choices won't impact his health. And mine.

I know that we need to take better care of ourselves, because it's not just about us anymore. And I know when I getting all stressed out about money, or work, or another baby...I need to remind myself of Ron's friend and his wife. There are people who would trade places with me in a hot minute.

About Last Night

2009-12-04T07:10:00.000-08:00

Rolo was impossible to put to bed last night. In the crib, 45 minutes of screaming, out of the crib. Calm, back in the crib, more screaming, out of the crib. Unusual for him. Nothing seemed to be bothering him, although with Rolo it's hard to tell. He's so laid back about things bothering him. His only explanation was "I not ready yet." Okay.

10 p.m., a full 2 hours past his usual bedtime he finally passes out on the couch. His father carries him to his room. Total dead weight. We head to bed too.

2 a.m., our baby monitor is on the fritz and the sound has cut out entirely, but I awaken anyway to the distant sound of Rolo screaming in his room below ours. I look at the video monitor, without sound, and see him rocking and boy, is he really screaming. Not calling for me, like might normally happen. Completely hysterical and I worry something's actually wrong. Ron wakes up too. I look at the clock. "This is going to be a disaster" I say. Ron tells me to bring him to bed with us. He says this because he's tired and he knows I'm tired and it will appease Rolo. I frown, because, that's not a trend I'm willing to start.

I go to Rolo's room and he calms down immediately. He does not know why he woke up. He asks for his diaper to be changed, which he usually never does, and I worry he thinks it's time to wake up for the day. While changing him, I ask if he wants a drink of milk. He does. And a bagel too. But he seems to have an awareness that it's the middle of the night and that he'll have to go back to bed. So I go along with this little game, bring him milk and a mini-bagel, and let him sit on the couch in the living room, with only a nightlight on. He does not suggest turning on the TV, or reading a book, or playing with toys, or any other thing to stall for time. Instead he slowly drinks his milk and eats his bagel.

After he's done, he cuddles up against me. He takes my face in his hands, looking at me, and then puts his cheek against mine. He stays that way for several minutes while I rub his back. "I cuddle with Mommy," he says.

I could be annoyed that I'm awake at 2 o'clock in the morning, when I'm hugely pregnant and not sleeping so well to begin with. I could be annoyed that my son, who does not seem to be sick, or getting molars, or having any other type of issue, is awake. But Rolo is so calm, so cuddly and being so reasonable, I'm not annoyed at all. Somehow I sense, as only a mother can, that what he needed was just to be still and be held. So we both sit, on the couch in the dark, with me stroking his hair and he patting my leg. He gives me a hug. "I ready now," he says and back to his crib he goes without protest. When I get back upstairs, it's after 3 a.m., and Ron asks "What was his problem?"

No problem at all. These middle-of-the-night wake ups are rare. And in time, he won't need me like he does now. 'Tis an amazing thing to be all that another person needs.

Glamour

2009-12-03T10:18:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've been all about making lists of beauty products I need to purchase in the coming weeks. Why? Well, I suppose I assume I'll be looking like a train wreck post-baby, and what better way to cheer oneself up than with new, shiny beauty products, right?

I need to get Moroccan Oil from my hair stylist next week. So pricey and I only use it once every couple of weeks, instead of every day like my stylist would prefer, but man, my hair loves the stuff.

I seem to have run out of all three of my fragrances simultaneously: Romance, Coco, and No. 5. I wonder if I should try something new? Or just replace some of my old ones?

Makeup products. From Clinque I need concealer, a brow pencil, lip pencil, lipstick (actually, I don't need this per se, but a new shade always perks me up), eye shadow (Colour Surge Soft Shimmer in Desert Sun--my all time fave) and "All About the Eyes" cream (this isn't actually makeup, but whatever). Who knew I used so much makeup? That's not even the half of it. So I'll be spending a ton of cash on beauty products. Thank God Douglas is having a 20% off sale next week.

Also, I might hit Duross and Langel for one of their eye creams, because HEY, when you're in your mid-30s with two (2!) kids, you can NEVER have enough eye cream.

Conversations

2009-11-02T13:14:00.000-08:00

Me: We probably need to really start talking about names.
R: Well, boy names are hard. We have some girl names don't we?....Ella's still on the list, right?
Me: Yeah, it is. But I'm less enamoured with it than I was 2 years ago. We have a girl's middle name though, right? We're still using my mom's?
R: Yeah, that's fine.
Me: I sort of feel bad though. I mean, I feel like I should incorporate my grandmother's name somehow.
R: We could use her name, or your middle name, as a middle name.
Me: I know. But...I've sort of been set on using my mom's as a middle name. Still, I feel a little bad about not using my grandmother's.
(pause)
R (not unkindly): Your grandmother deserves it more.
Me (sighing): I know.

The Light of My Life

2009-10-30T13:14:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows I love my kid. It's easy to complain though. The constant negotiations. The lack of time. The lack of privacy. The onslaught of requests. The tantrums. Having a two year old is so hard, right? Like millions of women for thousands of years haven't been doing it.

I read a lot of blogs. A lot of them are written by women who have lost children. Sometimes at birth, sometimes months or years afterwards. Sometimes because of terrible illnesses no one should have to endure. I read this blogs because, even though I've witnessed it, I can't fathom how these women endure it.

I read these blogs to remind myself of how selfish I am sometimes and to keep things in perspective. I may complain, but I love Rolo beyond all measure. I know I am incredibly, incredibly blessed. I hope I always remember that.

Random Thoughts

2009-10-15T09:53:00.000-07:00

So, it appears my last post was 6 weeks ago. Interesting. I'm not trying not to post. But with two blogs, a Facebook account and a barely-used Twitter account, something had to give I suppose. Also? I work full-time, have a family and enjoy interacting with humans occasionally. So I haven't really made time to post but here's a series of things that have been on my mind:

Rolo amazes me. He engages in pretend-play now. He changes his teddy bear's diaper. He feeds him crackers. I overhear him lecturing his stuffed monkeys in his crib "You no do that. 'Kay?" Pretend play is something he couldn't have wrapped his head around a couple of months ago. He still can't wrap his head around Halloween. Or Christmas. I try to explain these things, talk about costumes and Trick-or-Treat and Santa, but I think it's something he's going to have to see to understand. He's also in the "Why?" phase which is adorable and maddening at the same time. I can take the first 3-4 "whys?" but after that it gets ridiculous.
Ron has a couple of head hunters and will start job-hunting soon, even though it's too early to tell if he'll finish his fellowship this June. Might not finish until next June. Might have no choice but to continue fellowship until next June because the job market for physicians blows right now. The head hunters are like "Ha, ha, you sort of missed the boat here buddy! Job market tanked about 6 months ago." Between the economy (doctors aren't retiring on time) and this talk of health care reform (which scares hospitals shitless), places aren't hiring or expanding practices the way they normally would. Mostly, hospitals seem to be maintaining a status quo, cutting back even, waiting to see what fall out comes from any health care reform. Thank you, Mr. Obama! In theory, yeah, I'd love for everyone to have access to health care, although I'm not sure it's a God-given or constitutional-given right. But in reality, for me, for my family, this health care reform is going to screw us over. Two years of graduate school, four of medical school, seven (or eight) years of formal training, $250k in loans and my husband won't be able to get a job? Yeah, call me bitter. I'm not looking to be a millionaire here, I'm just hoping to avoid bankruptcy.
We took a trip to Burlington, VT last weekend. I had been there before, twice, in college. Still an interesting town, although it wasn't as I remembered it. Or maybe I'm just older. The seven hour car ride up was fine, even for Rolo. We only stopped once. But two is a hard age to travel with. Too big for a pack-n-play, too small for a real bed. Not content to sit in a stroller for more than 5 minutes. It was a logistical disaster, despite my planning. There was fun though: stuffing a bear at the Vermont Teddy Bear Factory, petting animals at Shelburne Farms, checking out scarecrows that are on every street corner up there, discovering that Pizzeria Uno has a kid's "make-your-own" pizza that we could leave the problematic cheese off of. Good times.
I'm just about seven months pregnant and have given just about zero thought to this impending arrival. I haven't opened a book, thought about names, gotten any clothes. Nothing other than talking to Rolo about a little brother or sister and prepare him for the end of the world as he knows it. Good times.
Also, if you can, try not to plan for being hugely pregnant in winter. I was due with Rolo in August and everyone was like "August?!? Oh it'll be so hot, you're going to be so miserable." Actually, it was fine. What's not fine are the sweaters and outerwear one must resort to when pregnant in the fall and winter. It's atrocious. Exhibit A. Exhibit B. This isn't too bad. Oh wait, that's $275. Ahem.
I've decided I like my neighborhood. Or at least I like my local Starbucks, Whole Foods, day care area.

So that's what's going on for now. More to come. Eventually.

Potty

2009-08-31T08:01:00.001-07:00

I've had a feeling for awhile that potty training might be my demise. One, because I have no idea what I'm doing as it relates to potty training. Two, I think I might secretly prefer changing diapers to the inevitable flux period where accidents occur and immediate access to rest rooms are necessary. Three, Rolo is scared of his own poo, something I think I've mentioned. Four, he potty his has is the trainer kind that sits on the floor (he, up until this weekend, seemed afraid of sitting up on regular potty) and, you know what's not so nice about those ones? After your kid goes, you've got to empty and clean them. Have I mentioned my kid's poop is not solid? So, I do not anticipate this going well at all.

Regardless, he has several "potty" books that we read regularly, trying to get him used to the idea that everyone poops. Awhile back, we took him to pick out his own potty. He has, on rare occasions, sat on it, but never with any success (although I make sure to commend him for sitting on it anyway). I never force the issue.

Over the last two weeks, he's pooped in the tub 3 times. I have no idea why. The last time he did, Ron was bathing him and Ron got the impression that Rolo knew he was going to poop before he did. So we both told him it was okay and that soon he'd be going in the potty. We bathe him in our upstairs bathroom, where we do not have "his" potty. That bathroom is pretty small, so I suggested to Rolo that we go pick out a potty seat to go on Mama and Daddy's potty so he could use either bathroom. Surprisingly, Rolo seemed pretty excited about the prospect of picking out a new potty seat. We looked at a few versions online and Rolo woke up the next morning asking "Poo-poo? We go pick out potty?"

So we headed to Babies R Us and Rolo picked out the Elmo potty cover. I knew the splash guard was too low for a boy, but I am willing to deal with that for now if Elmo gets him to use the potty.
Anyway, he was ridiculously excited to bring it to the upstairs bathroom and wanted to use it immediately. I figured, hell why not? And don't you know, he sat on that potty for almost a half an hour? Now, in case you're not aware of this, a half an hour is FOREVER in toddler time. To boot, he pooped. Right there in the potty. Was totally aware of what he was doing, saying "Oh! I go poo poo!" Wasn't freaked out at all. In fact afterwards he waved his hands in the air excitedly and said "I did it!" We did a happy dance and went out to dinner to celebrate where Rolo was allowed to have a dinner that consisted mostly of french fries (and was he ever happy about that since he and french fries rarely cross paths).

Interestingly, he doesn't necessarily like to talk about his first potty success. He didn't want to tell Ron himself. But if you say, "Did you use the potty like a big boy?", he gets the biggest smile and tells you yes. He's obviously proud, but he's still shy about talking about it. The next morning when he woke up he said, "I sit on potty?" So, for another 20 minutes we sat on the potty. He didn't go again, but I'm impressed that he sat there for that long.

So, the long and short of it is Rolo is still in diapers, but had one successful trip to the potty. It may have been a fluke but at least he's getting the idea and showing interest. Doesn't hurt that he's starting in a new classroom at school today and they're going to really emphasis using the potty (sticker charts and all that). So, we'll see. This is a start.

Also, in case you don't know me in real life or on Facebook, I'm knocked up again and due in January. That's a story for another day. But because of that, I've resigned myself to the fact I've either got to get Rolo potty trained early this fall or wait until well after the new baby is born.

The Last Day Before Two

2009-07-31T06:28:00.000-07:00

So...it's been awhile, eh? Not sure why so much time elapsed. Probably because it's summer and that's always the busiest time for me both professionally and personally. Anyway, tomorrow is the big day for Rolo. If you ask him how old he'll be, he'll yell "TWO!" and hold up one finger on each hand.

To celebrate, we're having a little party at the Please Touch Museum with all his cousins and some aunts and uncles. It'll be a good day.

The Last Month Before 2

2009-07-01T10:53:00.000-07:00

A month from today, Rolo will turn two years old. Which is strange, because I feel like he should be turning three. I swear parenthood totally messes with your sense of time.

What's Rolo up to these days? Lots. He's starting to master the short sentence. "I do it", "Here you go!", and "No want this" are the big ones these days. I think I've said before that he's fairly good at getting his point across and I rarely am at a loss for what he's trying to say.

He's also getting pretty good at--get this--sharing. Oh, he still takes toys right out of other kids' hands, causing them to cry in protest. But if I ask him to share something, he usually does. And then he looks directly at me for positive reinforcement, as if to say "Did you see that, woman? I just gave that kid one of my cookies upon request so you better give me some props."

Speaking of other kids, Rolo has a lot of friends at his school. Kids he actually mentions when we're home. I didn't ever think that before my kid was even two, I'd be sitting at the dinner table with him, asking him about his day and he would be able to articulate, with some accuracy, who was and who was not at school to play with that day. It's among the favorite parts of my day.

The other day I got one of those customized parenting emails that explain what milestone your kid should be at for this particular week in his life (i.e. 23 months, week 2). I had signed up back when I was pregnant with Rolo and they'd email you how big the baby was that week, etc. Little did I know the emails would continue after the child was born! They did! I've never unregistered partly because I'm curious to see how long they continue. Will I be getting "67 months, Week 3" one day?

I digress. Anyway, so I get this email and it says something to the effect that at this particular time one very advanced milestone would be if your child could jump, taking both feet off the ground at the same time. And boy, did I laugh. Rolo has been jumping for MONTHS. I assumed that was the norm. I'm assuming this is because his school has a gym and he's on a trampoline just about every day, but the child jumps on our bed, throws both legs out in front of him as if in a mid-air, seated position and then lands. He is beginning to learn the hard way that not all surfaces are as forgiving as a trampoline.

Utensil use is still hit-or-miss. Rolo is terrified of our vacuum, as well as his own poop. I've gotten some books, geared towards kids his age, with stories about using the potty. I'm not ready--and Rolo sure as hell isn't ready--to start potty training, but I think being scared of one's own poop does not bode well for successful potty training. So I'm hoping these books will, at least, get him accustomed to think poop is perfectly normal.

And speaking of books, he still loves his "reading" and now insists on bringing one or two books to his crib each night to "read".

I went through a brief period where I wasn't paying attention to how much TV Rolo was watching and was that ever a mistake. Now he asks to watch specific programs as soon as I get him from his crib in the mornings and as soon as I pick him up from school. Seriously, the begging to watch "Little Einsteins" or some other nonsense continues from the time I get him from school straight through to bedtime. So, now I'm trying to undo bad habits. It's amazing how quickly they become addicted.

Anyway, one of the other favorite parts of my day is going into his room after he's fallen asleep to check on him. He looks so big in his crib these days and in those moments I tell myself there's no way he could be almost two already.

On Being Present

2009-06-23T12:03:00.001-07:00

You can't multi-task motherhood. That's one of the things I'm learning. I mean, I joke around that daycare is outsourced parenting (and frankly, that's really only half-joking, as my kid spends more time with his teachers than he ever has with me since my maternity leave ended). But daycare allows you this false sense of what it is to spend time with your child. Being at home with them isn't enough. When you're home with them, there's still dinner to make, laundry to do, bills to pay, and sometimes, as I sheepishly admit, TV you want to watch.

All that's fine when you have an infant. Wear him in a sling while you do laundry. Cuddle him on your lap while you watch TV. Coo at him in his swing from the kitchen while you make dinner. Then toddlerdom hits and it's game over.

So I'm trying to be present in the moment now. Sure, there are still chores to do, but I'm trying to save the ones that can wait until after Rolo has gone to bed, even if that means a later bedtime for myself. Because kids know. Sometimes we'll be reading a book for the 11th time and my eyes will drift over to the television, or a magazine and I answer "Uh-huh" to his questions one too many times. And Rolo will put his hands on either side of my face, look me square in the eyes and say quietly "Mama. Mama." His meaning is clear: I can tell you're not really here, Mama, and I need you to be here.

I remind myself constantly of what has become my mantra: he'll never be this little again, or need you this much. And that will always be true. When he's a teenager and barely acknowledging my existence I know I'll look back on these times I tried to watch an episode of House Hunters while playing with him and wonder why I was such a fool.

Conversations

2009-06-10T09:47:00.000-07:00

Rolo: Howl! Howl! Mama, howl!

Me: Howl?

Rolo: Howl!

Me: Do you mean towel?

Rolo: Nuh. HOWL!

Me: I don't get what you're saying. Are you really talking about howling? Do you even know what that is?

Rolo (getting irritated): Howl. Whooo. Whooo.

Me: Wait, OWL? Do you mean owl, like the bird? Goes who, who?

Rolo (rolls his eyes): Yesh.

The Complainer

2009-06-05T06:24:00.001-07:00

I read Dooce a lot, at least a couple of times a week. Often I find her funny, many time meladramatic and whiny. And good God, has she been whiny during this pregnancy.

Take this post for example. Each woman is different I suppose, but cervical checks are not that bad. Honestly. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not a warm and fuzzy feeling either but it's nothing really painful. For me, it didn't feel all that different from my annual exams. I was "checked" twice at weekly appointments--my last two--and then at least twice while I was in labor but before my epidural. And until I read this post, I had forgotten all about these checks. Maybe time has made my memory fuzzy but I really don't think it was as bad as Dooce describes here.

Let's hope she gets an epidural before she even goes into labor because methinks someone has an exceedingly low threshold for pain.

Crack for All You Non-Drug User Types

2009-06-02T06:35:00.000-07:00

My parents had very definitive ideas when it came to food for their kids. Not to say, they were health-freaks. Oh no, we had our fair share of fast food. They did have very particular rules though. Drinking soda before noon, for example, means that you must be living in the ghetto. Milk was to be drank with just about every dinner--even the aforementioned fast food. Sometimes even with pizza. Yeah, shudder with me now.

But perhaps they were most strict about cereal. On rare occasions, maybe in the summer as a treat, we would have Frosted Flakes. Other than that, it was always either Total or maybe Rice Crispies. Now you can argue that Rice Crispies may not be the most nutritional cereal, but it's better than a lot of others. At any rate, what my parents were trying to avoid--an addiction to junk cereal--worked. To this day, the likes of Trix, Fruit Loops, and Coco Puffs have never passed my lips. Understandably, I was outraged when they tried giving Fruit Loops to Rolo at his old day care.

For years I've been eating Kashi Go Lean Crunch, but the last couple of months to spice up the morning routine, I've occasionally gotten Total's Cinnamon Crunch. I like my cereal to stay crunchy in milk, which sadly, most Total cereals do not. But Cinnamon Crunch does plus it still have 100% daily intake of just about every vitamin and nutrient known to man.

The other day I asked Ron to pick up some bananas and some Total Cinnamon Crunch while I was at yoga. Instead he brought home Cinnamon Toast Crunch because they "didn't have" the Total kind. Right. That's really just man-talk for "I'm a man and can't find anything even if I'm staring right at it".

So yesterday morning I bust open my box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, not really thinking there would be much of a difference, and HOLY GOD, is this crack in a box? It's so...sweet and sugary and....how about I have another bowl? This is what I've been depriving myself of all these years?

Once I had gotten my fix this morning, I noticed that the box says something about it being a great source of calcium and vitamin D. Now, I knew that Cinnamon Toast Crunch wasn't going to measure up to Total in terms of nutritional value, but I decide it can't be that bad right?

Yeah, it's great source of calcium and vitamin D if you freaking add milk (and presumably drink all the milk from the bowl) and even then it's only 25% of your daily intake! In fact, without milk, it has between 0% and 10% of your daily vitamins. Compare that to Total, which has that 100% of everything under the sun.

Oh you are bewitching, you Cinnamon Toast Crunch, with all your great, seductive flavor. But I'll be going back to my Total and Kashi when you're done.

1.75 Years

2009-05-18T12:55:00.000-07:00

In less than 3 months, Rolo will turn two and THANK GOD because I feel like I've been living with a two year old for months now. The tantrums, honestly, aren't too terrible, it's just that depending on what kind of day you're already having, they can sort of shred any nerves you have left. We have started using a "thinking chair"--a place for Rolo to go chill out when he's not understanding that biting is never acceptable. Because yes, occasionally, there is biting.

But there's more good than bad. We took Rolo to a helicopter museum (who knew there even was such a thing?) and he was in his glory because that's one obsession that's just not going away. It's funny how much and for long long he remembers things now. On Mother's Day, we took him to the zoo and he's still talking about the animals he saw and what they were doing. Actually, he surprised me because he went fearlessly into the petting zoo and brushed some sheep and fed a goat. I thought for sure he'd be spooked--small jumpy dogs seem to spook him--but no, he loved it.

Rolo able to say enough now that we can understand most of what he's trying to get across, which makes things a lot less frustrating for both of us. Right now, he's really big into labeling everything. Everything "belongs" to someone. He'll point to the TV and say "Daddy's". Or he'll point to the computer and say "Daddy's." Or he'll point to a broom or a bottle of Windex or a sponge and say "Mama's". Ahem. You can draw your own conclusions.

He also likes to take roll call. When the three of us are together, he'll point to each of us and say our names, over and over. Like he's looking for validation that all the players are present. This happens often in the car.

He knows just about all his colors and I have to say that I'm pretty impressed. Although, I am easily impressed because I don't know the first thing about when kids are "supposed to" learn things (baby milestones I knew, but toddlers or bigger kids? no idea), so to me, knowing your colors at 21 months old seems pretty advanced. He doesn't know black, white or gray, but he's all over orange, blue, "geen", red, yellow, pink, purple (the first time he pointed to something and said "puhr-pul" I about died, because, 1. I don't think I've ever taught him the words pink or purple--they just don't seem as important as the more primary colors and 2. I hate purple). Now, numbers, we're not quite as good with. According to Rolo the correct numerical order is "one, two, free, five, five."

Rolo's also entering the eager helper phase. He loves to put things in the hamper or help load the dryer. He also insists on having his own paper towel to "dust" or "clean" while I'm cleaning. And he loves throwing things in the trash. Fortunately, so far he only throws actual trash out although I am waiting for the day where I find pieces of mail or my cell phone in there.

And speaking of cell phones, Rolo has started engaging in pretend play, mostly involving phones. He'll pick one up and have a very animated conversation, sometimes throwing in names of kids at his school for good measure. Sometimes he'll hold the phone up to Elmo's ear or my ear and demand that we speak to whoever is (not really) on the phone.

One of the biggest adjustments for me has been realizing that Rolo is now a kid, with his own ideas and needs. With a baby, well, you get a baby dressed whenever you want, take them out when you want, etc. With a toddler, I'm realizing there is a certain level of negotiation you need to do. I'm not talking about bribing a kid or anything like that. I'm talking about making him an active participant in the family. So instead of just assuming that I'm going to take him to the store after school and just heading the stroller in that direction, I talk to Rolo about it. "So, we're going to head to the store now and I'm going to need your help picking out pasta." Or even with fun stuff, like going to the Aquarium. Much to my surprise, Rolo did not seem to enjoy the fish at the aquarium, which is strange because he likes books about fish and he has a toy aquarium on his crib that he loves. And several times after that visit, we would ask "Do you want to go see fishies?" and he would tell us no, like he remembered that he didn't like it there. So we didn't go. I guess I could have just taken him anyway to see what happened, but I figured why push it? And then last weekend, sure enough, when I asked if he wanted to see the fish, he answered "Yesh". And we went and he loved it.

"School" is going well. He's become a complete whiz at puzzles because they have about a gazillion there. Oh and also? The other day, when I picked him up, they were teaching him how to sew. Seriously. They have these kits with felt squares that have holes already punched out, and a completely blunt, fat needle to thread yarn through the holes. Hysterical.

So that's the latest and greatest. The next few months will bring adventures in consistent utensil use (which Rolo still thinks is completely inferior to the hand-shoving-food-in-mouth technique) and beginnings of potty training. We already let Rolo pick out his own potty at the store and have it housed in our bathroom. I suspect it might well be another year before he's ready, but who knows? The kid surprises me every day.

Mother's Day

2009-05-13T09:11:00.000-07:00

Sunday was Mother's Day and it started out in a way I will not forget. I awoke to the sound of Rolo calling "Mama!" from the bottom of the stairs. Glorious sunlight was streaming into my room and the clock read 7:30am, a full hour and a half later than I normally rise on the weekends. For a second, I was completely confused and thought Rolo must have gotten out of his crib somehow. But, no, upon rolling over, I realized Ron was already out of bed.

What makes this all so spectacular, and I apologize because I know this will sound trivial, is that I didn't wake up when Rolo did. Ron usually gets him on weekend mornings, a tradition from my maternity leave days that never ended. But the reality is that I would always hear Rolo crying on the monitor and then I'd hear Ron and he playing (or arguing) downstairs, so even though Ron was the one who "got up early", I was awake anyway. But Saturday night the conditions were such that we had the windows open and a fan on in both our room and Rolo's. The combination served to drown out any noise. So, inadvertently, I wound up getting extra sleep on Mother's Day, waking up about an hour after Rolo. It was a superb way to start a day.

The End.

Untitled

2009-05-05T13:55:00.000-07:00

You know, I haven't been writing much recently and I find I don't have much interesting to say here. Blame that on Facebook. I can only handle so many mediums at a time.

Seriously?

2009-04-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

If someone had told me years ago that one day I'd walk into work and be called into an emergency Swine Flu Epidemic meeting, it's fair to say I wouldn't have believed them.

The thing, though, is my job is never boring.

FUG

2009-04-20T13:37:00.000-07:00

Holy hell, this is some bad fashion all around.

Pirates Vow Revenge

2009-04-13T09:27:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, I really didn't think I'd grow up and wind up watching pirates on TV. Like on-the-news-TV. But here we are.

I love this. I just love that the pirates--people who illegally seized ships, hold people hostage, and demanded ransom--are vowing revenge. Clearly, these pirates have been wronged. I mean, people should be allowed to steal and blackmail without consequences, right?

Missing The Person You Fell In Love With

2009-04-07T10:04:00.001-07:00

I saw this article on CNN and I knew before reading it what it was about. That made me a little sad. But this story, or some similiar verison of it, is what happens when you have children. I have a good marriage, and in many ways I am closer to my husband now than I was two years ago. There's much good, but I'd be lying if I told you something didn't catch in the back of my throat a little bit when I've looked at him and thought "He must miss the person he married."

Ready for Spring

2009-03-31T06:42:00.000-07:00

Honestly, if you asked me which was my least favorite season, I'd say spring. Most people love spring. While I do love those first glorious days of warm weather after the winter, I tend to associate spring with lots of rain, unpredictable weather patterns and the nuicance of having a day start off requiring an overcoat and gloves only to end with the need for a t-shirt. Thus, I usually spend much of the spring either over- or under-dressed.

That said, though, I love when stores start featuring spring clothes and this is because my mind starts fast forwarding to summer. All of a sudden, the clothes are so much more colorful. This year, Banana Republic has been featuring a shade of green that I'm so in love with, I would consider leaving my husband for it. Behold this, this and this. The online photos don't even do the color justice.

I love it so much that I'm actually considering getting that first top I mentioned, even though it's silk and I usually avoid silk like the plague. Also, I wish I had somewhere to wear the dress, even though that cut doesn't usually flatter me.

But there are other great colors too, ones that would look amazing with white pants, and yet. Yet, I can't really pull off a white pant. Or, I should say, I have yet to find a white pant that doesn't make me self-conscious that the world can, in fact, see my panties. But tops like this and this inspire me to search yet again for the substantially lined white pant.

What fashion are you craving these days?

Nuh and New

2009-03-25T09:28:00.000-07:00

So Rolo is becoming quite the little talker and like most kids his age, "no" is his favorite word. And like his father, he's developing some bizarro accent for no apparent reason. When he's being dismissive, Rolo pronounces "no" as "nuh" and sounds much like a Russian fisherman. When he's being whiny, "no" becomes "neeeeewwww" and he sounds like I've just asked him to give up one of his kidneys.

Last night, after he dumped his dinner on the floor (ahem), I shook my finger at him and said sternly "That's not nice! You don't throw food on the floor. We don't waste food!" Rolo proceeded to think for a minute (at this age, you can practically see the wheels in their head turning) and instead of doing his incredibly fake crying that he does when I correct him, he lifted one finger at me, looked me in the eye and said "Dat. Nah. Nice." Which, translated, just in case you can't follow along, was him repeating "That's not nice" back to me. I had to turn my back to him so he couldn't see me laugh.

That story sort of sums up where we are with Rolo these days. He's started forming small sentences and given that he wasn't really saying more than a handful of words two months ago, I'd call it significant progress. One of his favorite sentences is "he's crying" complete with him pretending to wipe his eye. Interestingly, he never uses this sentence referring to himself, but he comments on other people he sees crying in real life or on TV. Just in the last week, Rolo's taken to making up stories. The other night in the tub, his fireboat bath toy capsized and Rolo proceeded to tell me that the ejected firefighter was crying as a result. Yesterday, a passing helicopter was crying as it flew away. I could go on.

Speaking of helicopters, Rolo is completely OBSESSED with them. He can say "hellacopper", and is constantly searching the sky for them (thank God our apartment has sliding glass doors with a skyline view). However, he does not understand that it is not within my power to make hellacoppers spontaneously appear and this has lead to more than one meltdown. So I personally have a love/hate relationship with hellacoppers.

As part of this story-telling phase, Rolo will also speak to you earnestly at length, mostly in complete gibberish, but with a word or two in passable English thrown in for good measure. There are usually hand gestures involved. And if you act interested, and say "Really? Is that so?" Rolo will nod excited and say "Uh oh, he's crying."

I'm not sure if there's a direct correlation, or if it was just a timing thing, but Rolo's language exploded just after he started his new school. There are pros and cons to this new school, but overall, I'm pleased and have no desire to bring him back to his old one. Regardless whether his language skills are directly attributable to the new school, I have noticed a general change in my son. He likes being there. He gets to do a ton of activities. He's understanding more complex concepts now. Best of all, I don't feel bad about leaving him at school. In fact, I'd venture to say that he has a good deal more fun at school than at home.

I can't say there are significant challenges as he furthers into toddlerdom. Now that he's talking and knows he can communicate, he gets even more frustrated when he can't get across what he wants. Just this morning, I was ready to sell him to a band of gypsies because EVERYTHING in Rolo's world today was just not up to his standards. Apparently. But for all the tandrums and times I'm pulling my hair out, it's still pretty fun to see how much he enjoys learning new things. We've been working on colors and he's got about a 25% percent success rate, since he always guesses either "buhue" or "ornange" first when asked what color something is. And man, when that something is actually "ornange" and I tell him he's right, you could solve the world's energy crisis with the light beaming from his face.

Heart On My Sleeve

2009-03-13T13:44:00.001-07:00

I watched an episode of CSI last night. Or, more correctly, I stopped watching an episode of CSI last night once I started to cry.

There was an incident, a shooting with many casualties. A man, anguished, held his dead child, refusing to let the medical examiners take him. A CSI agent explaining what the man already knew, that his son was no longer with him, and promising the man they would take good care of his son. Regardless, the man did not want to let go.

I've seen that moment in real life, the moment when a parent has to hand over their dead child, knowing they'll never hold him again. No matter if you believe in God, or heaven, you still don't want to let go.

I turned off the television and prayed for the thousandth time that I never have to be near that moment again.

Queen of the World

2009-03-09T12:02:00.000-07:00

Look, I was pretty surprised by the whole Rihanna/Chris Brown thing and even more surprised that Rihanna would go back to him. Because you figure, it's hard to be any hotter or any richer than Rihanna, so why would she need a dirtball who (allegedly) hits her? You are RIHANNA. You are fierce. You do not need him.

But who I am to judge such things? Especially when Oprah is out there casting her judgements?

Denial

2009-03-03T08:36:00.000-08:00

About a month ago, while getting ready for work, I bent over to pick something up and the lining in the seat of my pants ripped. How embarrassing. Thankfully, I was home and it was only the inside lining of the pants and not the outer fabric. A week later, the same thing happened again, different pants. Although both pairs were from Ann Taylor and I've had them for a few years. "Huh," I thought to myself, "I must be sending these to the dry cleaners too often. The fabric must be becoming thread-bare or something." I brought both pairs to the tailor and resolved to look into hand-washing my dress pants. I mean, it's probably better for the environment anyway, right?

Then about week after that, I put on a pair of freshly washed jeans. Except, funny, they wouldn't button. Even my fail-safe measure crouching up and down to stretch them out didn't work. I mean, these weren't even close to buttoning. Strange. I could have sworn they fit just last week. Maybe I need to shorten the amount of time my jeans are in the dryer?

Later that day, wearing a different pair of jeans, I couldn't help to notice that they were kind of uncomfortable. Like, they didn't fit well. And then I got to thinking about how there were other pants that I had recently stopped wearing because they were uncomfortable as well. My mind floated back to the jeans that would not button and then, suddenly, to the dress pants with the split seams. A lightbulb went off.

It may seem absurd, but until that moment it didn't occur to me that all these things were related. That the problem was not that my clothes were magically shrinking. My ass was getting big.

I've gained weight before, but I swear I've never split pants open before. I got on a scale. Oh yeah. Right there in black and white. Twenty pounds up from my ideal weight, 15 pounds up from my post-baby weight. Sweet Jesus.

I mean, I know, I haven't really been trying. Not working out, not eating well. What exactly did I expect to happen? The alarming part is that I didn't really notice this expansion.

So, I finally started going to yoga practice. It's only been two weeks so far, but it's a start. Ron and I bought an exercise bike. We assembled it over the weekend but have yet to ride it. It was Ron's idea to buy it. My thoughts were originally that it would become an oversized clothes hanger. I have yet to meet a person who has purchased in-house exercise equipment and actually uses it.

I'm realizing now though that we have no choice. Ron's gained more weight than I have and so exercise is becoming crucial. Diet alone is not going to be enough. Ron is rapidly approaching 40 and has a family history of heart problems. Actually, I have a family history of heart problems too. Plus, I'm vain. Plus, if I am ever to have another baby (something that's being postponed for awhile, but that's another story), it certainly is not going to help to be 20 pounds overweight from the start. All vanity aside though, I don't want our weight issue to become a medical issue. So exercise we must.

Inertia is a funny thing. I know, in my heart, that exercising will make me feel better, and yet, laziness has a firm grasp on me right now. Someone who used to exercise twice a day, back at square one. After my first yoga practice, Ron and Rolo met me at the Starbucks across the street. Ron asked me how the class was, and I replied, "It's the first time I've felt like myself in a year and a half." "I'm glad," he said as he smiled. By the look in his eyes, I could tell he knew that by getting me the yoga classes, he was buying back pieces of his wife.

So back to square one. Ron and I allowed our lives to be railroaded over the last year. Time to get back on track.

New Desk!

2009-02-26T07:08:00.001-08:00

I (finally) purchased this desk after months of admiring it. I opted for the "Click & Pick Up" option where you essentially purchase the item online and then just pick it up at the store to save on shipping. Or in my case, purchase it online and then have Ron pick it up at the store.

Note to self: next time, find out how much item weighs before making husband pick it up solo.

Effort

2009-02-23T18:24:00.000-08:00

"And how are you doing?" he asked, to which I answered "fine" too quickly. I'm always suspicious when Rolo's doctors ask me how I am. As if my answer offers them a clue of some sort.

"Well, you seem better than fine. Motherhood really suits you."

I drop the tough-guy act. "Really?" I ask.

"Yeah, you're doing fine. Better than most. You make it seem effortless."

I've heard that, that I make it seem effortless, from enough people now that I'm starting to doubt it's just something polite to say. I don't know why people think this. It takes so much effort that the thought alone of ever having another one is still enough to send me into a panic attack.

I read a book recently with my girlfriends for a book club they started. "Veronika Decides to Die". And the theme that stuck in my head was the (oversimplified) idea that people can chose to "check out" of life and just be crazy. The question is who decides what's crazy, who's insane?

Similarly, who decides what is genuine and what is acted? If so many people think mothering is effortless to me, am I doing a good job of faking it? Or is my view of my own reality distorted? I love, love, love my kid, and I think I'm a good mother. But if you were to ask me my honest view on how my days are, I'd have to say that most days I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water.

I've spoken about this here before: the idea of having to be all things. Oh, I mean I know I'm not superwoman. The working and the parenting, it's a bizarre balancing act.

So the doctor asks, as a favor, if I would consider bringing Rolo in later this week to allow him to teach medical students to perform pediatric exams. It's a tough week. A budget deadline is looming and I already took this afternoon off for Rolo's actual appointment, so taking more time off to bring him in for a fake appointment is sort of pushing it. However, I do have this doctor's personal pager number. Something pediatricans don't normally just give out to parents. I have used it liberally.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course" I say.

"Are you sure it's not a problem?" he asks.

"It's not a problem. Besides, you've always been so nice to me," I say as tears start to sting my eyes.

The Other Version of Reality

2009-02-17T07:26:00.000-08:00

Lest you think, based on my previous post, that he poops rainbows and tiny, fuzzy kittens, living with a 1.5 year old isn't always a walk in the park. Sorry if I gave you the impression that it was. In fact, it's sort of like, I imagine, living with someone who has untreated bipolar disease, or perhaps a multiple personality disorder. Most of the time, Rolo is quite sweet and charming. But a switch gets flipped sometimes and a little devil takes over his body.

He has his own ideas now on how things should be done and it's charming and MADDENING at the same time. Since he can't yet use words totally effectively, it means a lot of guessing. What, do you want this? How about this? Or you want to do this? No? Why are you screaming? I don't understand what you want. Okay, eating the carpet isn't helping. And the screaming still isn't helping. How about this toy? Or how about a banana?

Generally speaking, Rolo is a good eater. He also has an amazing arm. Like, seriously, I need to make sure I start this kid in little league as soon as it's possible. Unfortunately, in the meantime, he likes to throw his food. It's not because he's no longer hungry. It's just something to do. So if you come over to my place, there's a good chance you'll wind up ducking a flying carrot or that a meatball might go whizzing past your head. Good times. You should see my carpet. It greatly resembles a Jackson Pollack masterpiece (as an aside, yes I am aware of those lovely little drop cloth thingies you can put under a high chair, but 1) they look ugly and 2) more importantly, I'd have to drop cloth the entire apartment as Rolo is capable of launching food from his high chair well into the living room, about 20 feet away).

But the worse thing that 1.5 has brought is hitting. Me, specifically. And by that I mean Rolo hitting me and not the other way around. Sometimes he goes after other kids too. You can read TONS of literature on toddler hitting, why they do it and what to do about it. Believe me, I've read about it. I think Rolo hits for a couple of reasons. About 10% is probably out of frustration. But the majority is to get attention. Obviously, negative attention and specifically from me. When I pick him up from school, I watch him for a minute or two before he sees me. He's always playing with the other kids just fine. For the last week, without fail, as soon as he sees me, he either slaps one of the other kids or pulls their hair. And then he looks at me and laughs.

His teachers all swear that he's not aggressive at all throughout the day and I believe them. When we've left Rolo with either set of grandparents for the day or overnight, they all say he's fine the whole time he's there. But when we arrive to pick him up, he'll start hitting. I'm sure there is a sociology experiment in here somewhere about how a child who is abandoned by his mother from 9-5 every day is punishing her and seeking attention any way he can find it.

In reality though, you never know when the hitting stuff is going to start. He and I could be home together all day on a Saturday, reading and playing games and all of a sudden he'll get this gleam in his eye and I know he's about to hit. I read somewhere that kids who hit for attention should be ignored and when they no longer receive the reaction, they'll stop. At the time, I was like "Are they crazy? How can you just ignore it when your kid hits you? You've got to discipline them." Honestly, though, I think Rolo would probably stop if I ignored the behavior. The problem is that only works if we're at home. If he hits another kid, you kind of don't have much of a choice but to react, lest you look like you're breeding a monster.

So, I continue to plod through this parent/child relationship journey, working on solutions to problems I never thought my kid would have (yes, I do believe at one point I said out loud, "well, I just wouldn't tolerate my child hitting anyone", as though my desire to tolerate or not had anything to do with it). Despite the tantrums and throwing and the hitting, he's still a pretty cool kid though and so, I guess I'll keep him.

1.5 Years

2009-02-13T17:46:00.000-08:00

Rolo officially turned 18 months old and I'm pretty sure this means the end of counting his age in months. He's a year and half. In a couple of months, he'll be "almost two".

This last month or so has been a total whirlwind. Rolo's obsessed with the kitchen, specifically looking for things in the cabinets. He always seems to be searching for something specific and just can't identify what it is. He's also gotten into some bad habits. Rolo was sick about a month ago. A double ear infection with a virus on top. He's actually had that combination before but he had never been so sick. He's fever varied from 102 to 104.1 for 4 days. As often as he's been sick in the past, he never really acted all that sick, but this time was different. All he wanted to do was literally lay on top of me and sleep. Although occasionally, he'd pass out on the sofa. See?

He wasn't drinking much, and barely eating at all, so I was letting him eat whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted. Crackers for breakfast? Sure. How about eating them on the couch? Sure, no problem. Oh and can I watch a lot of TV? Of course, my little sick puppy. The problem was, not surprisingly, that once he started to feel better he still wanted to do nothing but eat dinner on the couch and watch TV. So that took some...readjusting.

One lingering symptom, however, is his love of TV. Specifically, "Little Einsteins" and "Mickey's Clubhouse". As much as I want to punch The Disney Channel in the face, it is funny to see Rolo's reactions to the shows. He lifts his arms in the air and shouts "Blast off!" when Rocket from "Little Einstein" well, blasts off. And he calls Mickey Mouse "O'Tootle", which is some gadget on that show. So, you know there is a certain level of cuteness in him mimicking these shows and I have to remind myself that really, these shows are the beginning of the brainwashing movement. Now that he's better I limit him to one show a day, despite how many times he yells "O'Tootles!" and does the sign for "more".

Let's see, what else? We had our first snowfall that actually resulted accumulation and I was able to take Rolo out in that. He was pretty floored by the whole thing.

Rolo's language has picked up, although Ron and I may be the only ones who understand most of it. Although, the other day, I brought Rolo to the allergist and we were walking the hall, when Rolo started flirting with the women at the nurses' station. Typical. Anyway, there was this weird Fourth of July-looking decoration with red, silver and blue stars and streamers hanging from the ceiling. I pointed to it and asked (what I thought was just rhetorically), "What is that?" and Rolo answered, clear as day, "Stars". The nurse looked a little surprised and said "Wow, he speaks very well." "Yes, he does" I responded, even though it was the first time he's really correctly pronounced anything. I've been working on "I love you" with him, but he doesn't really get sentences. He'll say "I luff" but for some reason he can't seem to tack "you" on the end. He usually needs prompts to really say words; I have to actually say "Say (whatever word I want him to say" and then he'll try to repeat it.

Rolo still loves reading books and if you ask him, he can correctly point to the following items in just about any book: ducks, balloons, stars, the moon, llamas, monkeys, rhinos, sheep (BAA!), loins, babies, dogs, cats, fire, chair, boy, bananas, apples and bees. He seems to have a pretty good memory these days and for the most part we only have to tell him what something is once before he can point it out in book over and over again.

He's also making somewhat more complicated connections. The other day, he pointed to a boat in a book, and looked at me. I knew he didn't know how to say boat, but before I could actually say that word, he started singing "Row, row, row." The night before I had been singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" while giving him a bath and the only part Rolo could get out was "Row, Row, Row". So boats now, are temporarily renamed "row, row, row."

We switched Rolo to that other preschool this week, but that's a post for another day. So far it's going well, and I've already noticed his language has picked up. Whether that's a result of the new school or just a timing thing, I don't know.

Months ago, Rolo started humming. And the tune sounded like Barney's "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family". Now I'm positive that's what it is because he hums it for longer periods of time. Rolo's only seen Barney a few times and I don't think he learned it from the show. Maybe his teachers sing it. Likely. Although, that was Matthew's song, the one Ron's sister used to sing to him before he died. So sometimes I like to think that maybe Matthew taught it to Rolo somehow. If you believe in such things.

A couple of weeks ago, I put Rolo bed and I tossed a "Love you" over my shoulder as I headed out of his room. And as I closed the door, I heard him say "I luff." There it was. One of those moments they tell you about. Where your child tells you he loves you, when you least expect it, and more or less, without any prompts. And for the millionth moment, I was so glad I took that leap of faith.

Home Alone

2009-02-03T07:41:00.000-08:00

Seriously, what is up with this?

That's a Whole Lot of Family

2009-01-30T10:27:00.000-08:00

Wow. I haven't really spoken with anyone about the whole octuplet thing that seems to have a so many people buzzing. Partially because, um, I don't really care that she had 8 babies-- that's so her nightmare to deal with, not mine. Also, because the infertility community goes a bit beserko if you criticize anyone who has undergone fertility treatments.

My understanding is that there are many ways to eliminate or greatly reduce the possibility of having a pregnancy of eight freaking babies when undergoing fertility treatments and that, for the most part, doctors and patients are fairly responsible for doing what they should to reduce the possibility of multiples in excess of two or three. So when I heard about the octuplets, I had the passing thought something had medically gone awry.

Now it comes out that the woman has 6 other kids.

So now, you know, I sort of have an opinion. Who the hell let this woman who has 6 kids undergo a pregnancy that resulted in 8 additional kids? And on the other hand, how do you put limits on someone's reproductive rights? I mean, I guess no doctor is going to say "Really? You already have 6 kids, you don't need a 7th." But this is eight additional kids, who, while they are doing very well by all accounts, were at a tremendous risk for all sorts of medical problems AND who, as far as I know, qualify for medicare pretty much from birth.

Sweet Jesus.

Making Good On Some Resolutions

2009-01-23T10:23:00.001-08:00

Well, it hasn't been going too well. I did turn in my yoga studio gift certificate for an official purchase of 50 yoga classes. I haven't actually gone to a class yet but my plan is to start with what I'm hoping will be an easy "Yoga Rise" class on Saturday mornings beginning in February. Last week I bought some new yoga pants from Old Navy. It's a start.

Today, I finally booked a "hot stone" massage and facial for tomorrow. It won't use up the entire spa gift certificate (that I received, oh, over a year ago), but, again, at least it's a start. I have no idea what to expect from a "hot stone" treatment, but it seems interesting. Hopefully, it'll be relaxing. It's at Toppers Spa and I find some of the staff at that place completely snooty--and really, they have no reason to be. So we'll see.

The bubonic plague hit poor little Rolo this past week, and frankly, I've been using that as an excuse why I haven't been eating well or doing my morning stretching. Hopefully, I can start a better routine this coming week.

How are your resolutions going?

Back to Square One

2009-01-14T07:23:00.000-08:00

So the "phase of the week" is currently: total freak out at day care drop-off.

What the hell? For months, MONTHS, Rolo has been fine at drop-off. But so far every morning this week has involved hysterical crying. He's more mobile than he was 3 months ago when we last went through this, so he's able to chase after me and cling to my legs. Good times.

I'm following the same routine as normal: I put him down in a chair at the table, get his breakfast snack ready, have a little chat with him and then leave. The ONLY difference is that because more kids were moved up into his class last week, they've started using both sides of the room for breakfast. So Rolo is on a different side of the room now when eating--however, this is the same side of the room he's spent the majority of the day every day for months now. So it's not like it's "new." It's just "new" at breakfast. Seriously, is THAT enough to throw him for a loop? Because if it is, I'm beginning to think the kid has a personality disorder.

The most frustrating (and confusing) part is that at pick-up time at the end of the day, he doesn't want to leave. I have to chase him around the room. He pitches a fit when I try to "make" him leave before he's ready. Again, WHAT THE HELL? I could see if he had separation issues, or if he hated his day care. But this? He doesn't want me to leave him there, nor does he want me to bring him home.

WHAT THE HELL?!?!@?!

It Starts This Young

2009-01-12T08:42:00.001-08:00

We're considering switching day care centers. Rolo's current day care is, well, fine. I mean, yeah, they dipped him in bleach, and they've done a few other things that haven't thrilled me, but that comes the territory in day care. The teachers genuinely love the kids. Rolo loves his teachers. If he was to stay in this day care for the next year or two, he'd probably be just fine. No worse for wear.

And yet.

The reality is that the teachers, while loving, are glorified baby sitters. I'm realizing what I want in a day care for an infant and what I want for a toddler are two different things. Teachers with early childhood education degrees might start to matter now. For the most part, Rolo sits in a room all day. Yeah, there might be songs and some art work, but I can't say I'm overly convinced that there's a whole lot of interaction and learning going on.

Does that matter? Now, at not even 18 months old? I don't think getting him into the "best" day care or preschool is the first step towards Harvard. When is "fine" fine and when should you want better for your child?

So I started to hear about another day care--actually, no, it's a preschool. They start taking kids at 18 months old. Anyway, I passed by it a few times months and months ago and since then, a buzz has started. The mother of one of Rolo's "friends" at his current day care told me about it and that she was going to enroll her son there. Weeks later, another mother approached me to tell me she was switching as well. Then, while speaking to a colleague from work, it came up that his son attends this new preschool too.

I got the information, spoke to the owner on the phone. Sounded great. Is considerably more expensive, but I went to look at it anyway. It's radically different than Rolo's current situation. There are pros and cons. The kids rotate through rooms throughout the day that focus on art, music, library, learning and gym. They actually have access to a gym so that the kids can run around even when the weather is too bad to take them to a park. Teachers are either early childhood specialists or have degrees in a specialty, like art or music. They all seem nice and caring. These are all the pros. The cons are the price, that it's new and therefore they are still "tweaking" their systems, they don't offer daily reports and it doesn't offer the kind of routine Rolo is used to--for example, it's not like Rolo would have just one teacher like he has now, the teachers rotate through different groups of kids. So from a "continuity of care" aspect, it's not like you can go to one person and get an idea of how your kid is doing. I don't know that they emphasize practical knowledge like, say, how to use utensils. Also, it's a little hippy-dippy (flooring made of recycled material! they compost waste!). Not sure if that's a pro or con.

I left feeling torn. Realizing that educationally, this place is way better. But, it's not as structured. And frankly, while I think he would grow to like it, Rolo is going to lose his shit if we switch him. Transition isn't always easy for him. Then again, maybe Rolo would adapt better to change in a different environment, one that wasn't as structured.

I had another realization after I left, one that sort of slapped me across the face. At our current day care, Rolo is decidedly in the racial minority. Will be even more so once his two friends switch over. All of the teachers at the entire day care, with the exception of 2, are African American. This new preschool? All the teachers I met are white. It's a majority of white kids too. An interesting example of socio-economic segregation. The white kids go to the more expensive, more educationally-driven school, taught by the higher-degreed teachers. This is a preschool, people. The realization was both stunning and obvious.

You know, I wasn't ready to deal with this yet.

Month 17 or the Month of E-Pootbal

2009-01-07T09:08:00.000-08:00

I swear I started a post about this, but Blogger apparently ate it. So Rolo is 17 months old. Less than a month away from being a year and a half.

He's had a language explosion of sorts the last two weeks and all of a sudden, he's trying to repeat anything we ask him to. Although most words aren't pronounced correctly, I'm still able to understand what he's saying. Most of the time. His vocabulary tends to fall into two camps: words he will say only when prompted and words he will say on his own, when he either sees or experiences something related to certain words.

One of his favorite things to say is "E-pootbal" (read: Eagles football). He says every time he sees a football or any Eagles paraphernalia. In fact last week we passed a Lids store in the mall, and Rolo totally went ape-shit, nearly hurling himself out of his stroller, yelling "E-POOTBAL!" when he saw an Eagles hat in the window. Ron, as you might imagine, is so proud. One might argue that it might be more helpful if he learned more practical words like "eat" or "poop" or "drink" or anything related to primary functions in life. But no, he is his father's child and football reigns supreme.

Word association proves to be confusing to toddlers. We have an Eagles wreath (don't even ask) and whenever Rolo sees it, he promptly says "E-Pootbal" because there is an Eagle on the snowmen. Unfortunately whenever he sees any OTHER snowmen, he also says "E-pootbal" because apparently ALL snowmen now represent the Eagles franchise.

Another word he literally just started saying, and frankly, I'm shocked it took this long, is "no". Which he says by drawing out the "o" sound for a fairly long time while simultaneously giving you a look that clearly reads "Are you out of your freaking mind?" It amuses me. I know it won't for much longer.

He's also starting to grasp the appropriate meaning of nodding and will nod "yes" when I ask him questions.

Rolo is have short but distinct phases now. For a week, he won't want his morning bottle, something he normally devours when he wakes up. Then he might be back on the bottle but he'll want to have his toy monkey tucked under one arm. Then for a few days, he might only want to read one book (ad nauseum) and then he might undergo a few days when he pleasantly lays still during diaper changes before reverting back to his usual whirling dervish ways during changes. Then it's a week of not wanting to eat chicken followed by a week of ONLY wanting to eat chicken. It's, um, a constant surprise what the phase of the day will be. Toddlers are awesome like that.

Signing isn't going spectacularly, but he does the sign for "more" constantly. And that sign, in Rolo's mind means many things like "more: get me something different than this food in front of me" or "more: read this book that I'm handing you" or "more: I would like something but I don't know the word for it so I'm just going to signal 'more' so that you know that there is some nameless thing that I desire."

Lastly, Rolo's starting to think in more abstract ways. When I read him a story a couple of weeks ago that involved the words "washing up for dinner" and Rolo immediately starting rubbing his hands together like one would when washing one's hands. I realized what he was doing and asked "Are you washing your hands?" And he nodded solemnly and pointed back to the book. We don't really ever use the phrase "washing up for dinner" around our house, so I'm assuming he just connected it with washing your hands. He makes the same motion every time we get to that part of the book.

I'll try to post again with an 18 month update next month, as I'm sure my little man will be up to a lot more.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-02T08:45:00.000-08:00

Yes, I made stupid resolutions this year. I was watching TV yesterday and some "resolution expert" was directly people to make resolutions that were very specific and put them on the fridge.

1. Lose 10 pounds. This was orginally "lose weight", but then, you know, the "expert" said to be specific so I figured I should have a particular number in mind. I had gone back down to my pre-pregnancy weight, which is five pounds higher than my ideal weight, but now I've gone up 5 pounds from that. So, 10 pounds it is and to assist with this I've come up with some sub-catergories of this resolution"

Stretch/yoga-at-home three mornings a week.
Go to yoga class once a week (my fabulous son got me 50 classes at a local yoga studio for Christmas).
Limit take-out food to one day per week. I figure if I stop ordering food 2-3 times a week, eating healthier may be easier.
Attempt family dinners. Since forever now, I feed Rolo shortly after we get home each day and then Ron and I eat after Rolo goes to bed. In a way, I like this, because it allows Ron and I to eat in peace. Also, Ron sometimes isn't home until 7pm or so, which is a little late to expect a toddler to have dinner. On the other hand, waiting until after he's sleeping, we wind up eating at like 8:30pm and the later it gets, the more attractive ordering take-out food seems. In order for this to work, it will involve several things. Namely, I'll need to leave work promptly at 5pm so Rolo and I can get home by 5:30pm, so that I can then start cooking and have dinner ready at a reasonable hour. I'll also have to give up my fantasy that it will always be the three of us, because in reality, it will often just be Rolo and I. Note to self: find recipes that will heat up well for Ron.

2. One of my other resolutions is to use my gift certificate from LAST CHRISTMAS to Toppers Spa for things I would normally never do. Like a hot stone facial. Along with this, I'd like to resolve that yes, in fact, hair cuts and manicures and other frilly things can still be part of my life and therefore I should schedule them in advance like any other appointment. My entire life does not need to be about work and family. There can be just be me-time.

3. Try not to freak out about the future.

In other news, and related to #3, Ron's been offered and has accepted the opportunity to remain at his hospital for an additional year of training in a sub-specialty, thus pushing his fellowship completion date back to the summer of 2010. He's really interested in this sub-specialty and although the thought of extending his fellowship isn't ideal (I mean the idea of being "done" this June was pretty alluring), I think it's a good move to follow your dreams when presented with the opportunity to do so.

The icky part is that the work hours of this extended year will be horrific and I pretty much have to resign myself to the fact that I won't see Ron for a year beginning this summer. Believe me, selfishly, I hate the idea of that and a part of me wasn't going to be disappointed one bit if he decided not to do this extra year. However, the more mature part of my brain realizes that a year of sacrifice is worth Ron working in a field he really loves for the rest of his life. The good news is that this means he can put off his job search another year and we'll be staying put in the area for a while longer.

So, you know, happy 2009! I'm off to have a drink.

Notebooks

2008-12-30T11:01:00.000-08:00

I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I watched The Notebook Saturday night. And then watched it again on Sunday. I am a total sucker for drama-star-crossed-lover type romances. I had read the novel years ago (like in the late '90s, before the movie cover version was printed, thank you).

Also, Ryan Gosling, who I did not know existed before Saturday, is hot. Both with and without the beard. Also, with and without his shirt on.

Just Write Sucker on My Forehead

2008-12-20T07:08:00.000-08:00

Items recently purchased:

In the hopes of being able to breathe well, a Neti Pot

In the hopes of getting my husband to wrap presents: pop-up tape strips and a wrapping paper cutter.

Quilting

2008-12-19T14:06:00.000-08:00

I can't tell you how badly I wish I had the time, patience and skill to do this.

Compassionate Friends

2008-12-12T11:46:00.000-08:00

On Sunday is the Worldwide Candle Lighting for families who have lost children. All over the world candles will be lit at 7p.m. local time, creating 24 hours of continuous light. We'll be going Sunday night to support Ron's sister.

If you know of someone who has lost a child, pass this on.

Holiday or Not

2008-12-12T08:19:00.000-08:00

My mother, she seems to be having a hard time with the fact we had Thanksgiving at our place. Or maybe she's just having a hard time with the holidays in general. I have my moments when I still get angry at her. It's easier to do that, get angry. But I know, without knowing, that there is something else there. I suspect that her mind and her heart are not well; one literally, one figuratively. So getting angry is much like kicking a puppy. I should know better.

*******

Ron may stop to get a Christmas tree tonight. I look around our apartment and it doesn't look very Christmas-y. More decorating to be done. The tree will likely only have ornaments higher than 3 feet from the ground. Or they'll all have to be plastic ornaments on the lower 3 feet. Curious toddler about.

*******

On Wednesday, Ron took Rolo to his parents house for an overnight visit so that I could go to my holiday party last night. So yesterday morning, I slept until 7, took my time getting showered, made-up and dressed, and drank coffee on the couch. It was peaceful, easy, and a reminder of the mornings in my old life. Although I did not do any stretching. I used to stretch every morning. Now I do not. Even when I have the time to do so.

*******

I have never been one to make New Year's resolutions and yet. Yet, I find some voice inside my head saying: "Starting January 1st, I'll start stretching again. And in January, I'll start taking a yoga class. In January, I'll enroll Rolo in a music class. Starting January 1st, we're going to eat healthier around here. In fact, starting January 1st, we're going to all start eating together as a family. Can you imagine how much healthier we'd be eating if we all ate what Rolo ate? Starting January 1st..."

*******

Rolo is sick. Fever, coughing. Trying to decide whether it's worthy of a doctor's visit.

*******

Work has been busy lately. Stressful, but maybe in a good way. I expected to fall on my face during a presentation the other day, but I held my own, even when I got grilled with crazy questions. I got high-fives from my team when I was done. Funny, how at age 33, high-fives can still make my day.

*******

I'm not sure why, but it doesn't feel like Christmas to me.

Updates

2008-12-09T09:57:00.000-08:00

No, I have not fallen off the face of the earth. Here's what I've been up to:

-Thanksgiving. It was a little cozy in our apartment, but hosting Thanksgiving for 8 people turned out pretty well. Food was good, no china was broken, and I think everyone had a good time.

-Massively large projects at work. Lots of budgeting. It's amazing how budgeting can be extremely hard and yet boring at the same time.

-Parties. My husband's siblings all tend to procreate around the same time, and so two nieces and one nephew all have birthdays within 12 days of each other. Which meant several birthday parties. Plus, a "Santa" party for Ron's sister's godchildren (I think she's a godmother seven or eight times over) and all the godchildren's siblings. I don't know, it's about 20 kids. Ron plays Santa. It's pretty funny. Coming up are a slew of other work-related and friend-related Christmas parties as well.

-Testing. I mentioned before that Rolo was supposed to get some testing done. So far, we've managed to get two X-rays and the bloodwork done. The skin tests are up next, and I'm not sure what I want to do about the sweat test. Rolo was totally spooked by the X-ray machine, even though I was able to stand next to him the whole time (and pin down his arms--fun!). As soon as I picked him up off the bed, he started saying "bye" and waving to the machine as if to say, "Yeah, time to go now!"

-Christmas shopping. We've actually managed to get to a mall once or twice. Still lots more to get.

-Operation Kill Binky. After a couple of misfires, the discontinuation of the binky has gone rather well. Rolo has gone to bed without a pacifier every night for the last week. He cries a bit when we first put him in the crib, but it's only for a few minutes. I have, however, made some exceptions and allowed him to have his binky during these X-rays and blood draws. He is, after all, only 16 months old. In addition, I've finally given him a toy, Fred the Monkey, to sleep with--up until this point, he's never had anything else besides a pacifier in his crib with him.

Well, that's it for now. Hopefully, I'll get back to posting again soon.

Thankful

2008-11-26T07:21:00.001-08:00

My sister-in-law, the one who had Baby M, is pregnant again. I'm not sure if I've mentioned that before here. She's due the first day of February, but given her history with preeclampsia, it was assumed the baby would be born before that. She had some early signs of preeclampsia pretty much from the moment she got pregnant, and then, she had an ultrasound that showed some possible abnormalities (though nothing definitive) with the baby. She has been cautious, emotionally-speaking, regarding this pregnancy, which is understandable after everything she went through with Baby M. But she was disheartened by the less-than-stellar ultrasound.

Then yesterday, another doctor's appointment. All traces of preeclampsia are gone. Her blood pressure is fine. And another ultrasound showed the fluid around some of the baby's organs, which was thought to indicate a problem, was gone. A perfect, perfect doctor's visit. Almost as if, for the first time, she wasn't a high-risk pregnancy. Maybe she would not have to deliver the baby early after all.

Then she got home to find out that her husband is being deployed, quite unexpectedly, to Iraq for a year. Leaving on January 30, two days before her due date.

Heaven help me, but I laughed when I found out he was being deployed. He's so not the type of guy you would think about sending to war. Regardless of whether I care for the guy, I still don't want to see him go off to war. He's been in the Navy Reserves for years, but the Iraq war really isn't a Navy war, so there was never any talk of deployment. Turns out that his new profession as a law enforcement officer cast him in a new light. He'll be retrained to be, I think, military police, riding in humvees.

At any rate, I think my sister-in-law is pissed, scared, stressed, you name it. This should make for an interesting Thanksgiving.

***************

Last year, I said I was thankful for day care. And while I still love the idea of day care, if not my particular one, this year I'm thankful for different things. One, that my husband is not being deployed to Iraq and two, after reading manyp personal blogs about infertility and infant mortality, I'm more thankful than ever to have my sweet little Rolo. The heartbreak that others, including my sister-in-law, have gone through is unimaginable. And so I am so lucky to have a great husband and wonderful, healthy baby.

What are you thankful for?

15.5 Months

2008-11-19T09:22:00.001-08:00

Last week was not nearly as bad as the week before, but it did end with a wicked stomach virus. On Friday, I sent Rolo to his grandmother's house while I proceeded to make love to my toilet for the next 7 hours. Awesome.

So far, this week isn't too bad (knock on some wood here). Rolo is coming up with all sorts of delightful new tricks, including being able to open some doors. He doesn't say too many words yet, but he understands just about everything. Sometimes more that we realize: last week I asked him to get his ball, but he couldn't reach it and so he brought me his flash card with a picture of a ball on it. Scary. And earlier this week, he said his first "real" word--by which I mean outside of the usual "mama", "dada", "ba" (bottle, I think) and "dat" (that). I showed him a picture of an apple, said what it was and he promptly repeated "papal", which is close enough to apple for me. It was the first time he's really made an attempt at repeating something we've said, so I can only hope that "no" and "shit" are close to follow.

He's totally in love with his 4 cousins and points to their pictures nearly every day, demanding to be picked up to see them better. When he sees his only male cousin in person, he's completely infatuated and tries to copy everything he does. It's sweet.

Rolo's gotten much more settled at school. He never cries when I leave him anymore--unless, that is, there's something out of the normal routine. Like his mother, he craves routine. Today he had a doctor's appointment, so I brought him to school late. It was just before lunchtime and that I was dropping him off without his usual breakfast ritual proved to be too much for him. But even then he only cried for a minute before he started playing with his friends.

His obsession with books continues and he occupies himself for a long time, flipping pages and pointing to things. I read to him every day in the mornings and evenings. His other obsession, dogs, is still in full gear and he's added SEPTA buses to the list of things that fascinate him. Since our walks include passing by many dogs and many buses, it's never-ending entertainment.

He'll sometimes throw full-fledged mini-tandrums now, complete with kicking, screaming and occasional face-clawing (mine, not his). They only last a few seconds, but they may a daunting reminder of things to come. So far, I've been calmly explaining to him that he must be feeling frustrated or angry, but that [insert bad behavior here] is not acceptable. He can be surprisingly reasonable but I'm sure "time outs" are soon to be in my future.

I'm sure I say this every time I post about him, but it never ceases to amaze me how much of a little boy he is. If he wasn't so tiny, you would think he was about 4. And as my life continues to morph into something else than what I imagined (just today I had to give a presentation to senior execs right after the doctor's appointment, so I showed up with a sippy cup in hand), I'm still grateful every day to have this little guy.

Lovin' It

2008-11-13T06:22:00.000-08:00

If you want to taste heaven, get yourself to Bonte and try their Chocolate Macaroon Latte. If you like chocolate and a slight coconut flavor, you will LOVE this.

Testing 1, 2, 3

2008-11-06T10:23:00.000-08:00

So far, this week is kicking my ass all over Texas. Why Texas? I have no idea.

Monday I managed to throw my back out, doing nothing other that getting up off of the sofa. I always wondered about that term "throwing my back out" and what it meant. Well, since birthing a child, it's happened to me at least 3 times, for no good reason and the result is always me leaning over to one side because I simply can no longer stand straight up. I have a feeling my lower back has always been on the weaker side and apparently months, going on years, of doing no strength training isn't helping.

Then on Tuesday I got "the call" from day care, the one where they told me in a completely panicked tone of voice that Rolo had accidentally drank another child's bottle and was having an allergic reaction. So then I had to run to daycare, literally run, when even walking was uncomfortable with the whole back thing. Turns out adrenyline will carry you through those moments and it won't be until later that night that you find yourself completely paralyzed.

So Rolo had his first real allergic reaction and it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but it wasn't fun either. He was scared and extremely uncomfortable and so I took him home for the rest of the day. Part of the problem was that we didn't have an "action plan", which is something you're supposed to have for a kid with allergies. Correct that, we did have an action plan, but my allergist's office (see: Dr. Crackpot) wouldn't release it to me. On our last visit there, the allergist prescribed an epipen, and so I tried to bring it to daycare and they were all like "okay, but we need an action plan" which would basically outline when they should give something like Benedryl and when they should administer the epipen. This made total sense, that you would have a plan like this in writing. So I called the allergist's office and they were all like "Oh we didn't give you one? Well you can come in to pick it up."

The problem is that the doctor's office is 45 minutes away and they close at 4pm. No way I could get there after work and I couldn't imagine taking time off of work to pick up a form. Could the fax the action plan? No. Could they mail it? No. I had to pick it up in person, and they had to walk me through it. Okay, so they didn't care enough about the damn action plan to actually give it to me when they should have, but now I have to come in to talk about it? No thanks.

I sort of knew this was a ticking time bomb, that Rolo didn't have an action plan, therefore didn't have an epipen at school. I was figuring I would eventually get him an appointment with a new allergist here in the city. Well Tuesday, after his attack, I called up my pediatrician's office, got the number of their recommended allergist and as luck would have it, they had a cancellation for yesterday afternoon.

So I took off from work yesterday afternoon, saw the doctor, which took 2.5 hours and ALL of that was actually us being seen by nurses and doctors. These doctors have a TOTALLY different approach to medicine than Dr. Crackpot. While I agree with the approach in theory, it means a LOT of testing for poor Rolo. Two X-rays, a couple of blood tests, a couple of skin tests and a sweat test. Oy. It'll be great when we're on the other side of it, but I'm dreading the testing. Anyway, we leave with a lot of paperwork and scripts and then proceed to almost get hit by a car. As in an elderly person who mistook the accelerator for the brake while I was crossing with the light in the crosswalk. I had to hurl the stroller to my right to put myself in between the car and Rolo. And did I mention the bad back? Because instaneous decisions to hurl strollers do not go well with bad backs.

So today I drop Rolo off at daycare and get a call two hours later, that I need to pick him up because he has watery eyes. Seriously. Watery eyes. They think it's pink eye, of course, but it's his freaking allergies really and then I've got to track down the allergist he saw yesterday so she can write a note saying he's not contagious. I can tell day care is not pleased that I have no intention of picking my child up because of his watery eyes and I basically tell them where to go because already this week? I missed a bunch of time from work because no one was watching my kid closely enough to prevent him from drinking someone else's bottle. I'm not missing more work for God-damn watery eyes.

The End.

Change

2008-11-05T06:50:00.001-08:00

Yesterday, I voted for Barack Obama. I'm not at all sure I made the right decision.

Until recently, I was one of those "undecided voters". The group that critics said must be stupid or lying, and should forfeit their right to vote. Hey, David Sedaris even weighed in, as though his opinion has anything to do with anything. To his much-publicized quote on undecided voters: To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?” I ask, who is the flight attendant? Is it the media, who are having on-screen orgasms over Obama's victory? Yourself? Because his comment assumes that the choice is obvious, which of course to someone who had already decided, it was.

What critics of undecided voters rarely took into account is loyalty. How difficult it can be for one person to be affiliated with one political party for one's adult lifetime, to be born and bred into that party, but to vote for another. I get the impression that most undecided voters were either independents or Republicans. In theory, I never thought voting for the other team would be difficult. Not until I had to actually do it. It would have been different if Obama had completely won me over. But he had not. So should I stay with the Republican ticket, what's familiar? Or should I take a leap of faith across the other side of the aisle, even though I have some doubts about the candidate. I can't tell you how much I thought about it, worried about it, lost sleep over it. I'm used to being a Republican and hearing that political party get trashed. It always rolled off my back. But the criticism that undecided voters got? To say it made me angry would be an understatement.

I don't believe the two candidates were alike in many ways. I don't believe they were "the same", as critics accused undecided voters of thinking. I liked qualities in both candidates, different qualities in each. And I was/am fearful of some other qualities, again different for each. What I can say, which was encouraging, is that for the past 2 or so presidential elections, I always asked, when referring to the candidates "This is the best we could come up with?" But not this time. Although very different, I think both candidates had a lot to offer. Do I believe my life will be better 4 years from now? Or eight? Possibly. But I think that's largely dependent on me, and has little to do with who's president.

God forgive me, and I pray to that God that this never comes to fruition, but a small sliver of me didn't want Obama to be president for fear he would not be able to serve out his term. A heinous crime that might cut a life, and a presidency, short; something that would tear this country apart unlike anything we've seen before. But that? That is not a reason not to vote for the man.

I'm not all that worried about the economy. Which is to say that it of course concerns me, but the economy has historically had its ups and downs, and while by all accounts this is a pretty big "down", odds are pretty good that we'd be in a better financial place eight years from now regardless of who became president.

I've become a skeptic in my old age. Or perhaps I always was. I wanted to be excited by this election. Everyone else seemed to be. But more than anything, I was wary. Wary of the Republican party. Wary of interviewed Obama supporters who said things like "I won't have to worry about my mortgage anymore or gas prices anymore or all my bills", as though Obama was offering some sort of "debt-free" program that I was not aware of, or at least, am not eligible for. Wary of other nations who are so overwhelming enthusiastic about Obama. I could choose to believe that they sincerely want better relations with the United States and I hope that's the motive. But I don't believe these nations have Americans best interests at heart. One of my greatest concerns is how this country is viewed by the world, so for all that global and national enthusiasm, probably for that reason, I pushed Obama button. In high school terms, I succumbed to peer pressure. But I am still afraid how Obama will handle the ugly side of world politics.

Regardless, here we are. The dawn of a new day. You'll notice I turned off the comments for this posts, because I'm not interested in anyone's opinion at this point.

You have 4 years, Mr. Obama. Make me believe I made the right decision.

I'm Going to Vomit

2008-11-03T07:59:00.000-08:00

It's like my worst nightmare.

Ah, Easy Amusement

2008-11-03T06:48:00.000-08:00

Rolo's new thing is to shake his head "yes" and "no". Except he really doesn't know which is which or that shaking one's head signifies either of those words really.

So, actually, what he does goes a little something like this: he'll start nodding and I'll say "yes?" and then he'll start shaking his head from side to side and I'll say "no?" and he'll continue alternating between nodding and shaking until he forgets which comes next and simply starts rolling his head in circles until he gets dizzy.

Then he tries to focus on my face and is all like, "Woah".

Champs

2008-10-29T20:08:00.001-07:00

I live close enough to South Street to tell you one thing: the city is freaking crazy right now.

I expect to see my husband some time shortly before sunrise. Two years ago, I would have been filing out to Broad Street (probably not South Street), partying. But now, I sit home, with a sleeping baby, different responsibilities, listening to the crowds outside instead. I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish I was out there too.

But I am giving my office a couple of hours off Friday to see the parade.

It's a Sad Story

2008-10-29T11:55:00.001-07:00

And Michele Davis-Balfour should probably stop talking.

Five Days and Counting

2008-10-28T08:33:00.000-07:00

For the last week, I've dropped Rolo off at day care and he hasn't cried. I'm sure now that I've typed that I've completely jinxed it. But for the last two months, Rolo has cried more days than not when I drop him off. Last Monday, he was so hysterical I seriously considered calling out of work and taking him back home. Only, I figure that's not a very good precedent, since I can't do it every time he's upset and also, I should save my days off for when he's sick.

So I decided that since he retains and understands what we're saying now, I would start talking to him about his teachers and other "friends" at school. That night I had a "conversation" with him, much like you would with an older child, asking him how his day was, who he played with, what songs his teachers sang. And then the next morning, as we were getting dressed, I told him all about his teachers, naming them, naming his classmates, talking about going to school. And that next day, last Tuesday began this streak where he didn't freak out when I dropped him off. Around the same time, I decided when I dropped him off I would talk him through my leaving. I tell him I've got to go to work, that I'll come back after work, he will stay here and play with his friends and then I'll come back. And I always tell him bye-bye. Versus me trying to sneak out of the room when he's not looking. I read somewhere that sneaking out can increase separation anxiety because the child may believe that mommy just "disappears" without warning.

I have no idea if any of this helped, but Rolo seems to finally have adjusted to his new classroom. And that makes the mornings so much more pleasant.

The Reward for a Job Well Done is Having Done It

2008-10-23T18:52:00.000-07:00

In the last 5 weeks, Ron will have been away 20 days. Ten days late last month and we're at the tail end of another 10 day stint. Conferences, classes, it'll all a good time.

We've known about both these trips since last fall and whenever I would thinkg about them over last year, it went a little something like this: OH MY GOD NO, how on earth will I handle days on end with the kid... ALONE??? Not that I don't love spending time with Rolo but most days I can barely keep my head on straight and that's WITH Ron's help. So how would I fare without it?

Just fine as it turns out. I love my husband, he's a great husband and a wonderful father. But he's not...super helpful around the house. And while he doesn't work nearly as much as the stereotypical workaholic physician, he's often left for work before Rolo wakes up and home less than an hour before Rolo goes to bed. So, to an extent, I sort of already do the single parenting thing.

There's a strange relief in these twenty days not being nearly as hard as I thought. Despite a pesky molar that's taking forever and six days to make its way though his gums, the kid is fine, the laundry is done, toys (mostly) found their way back to the toybox. I can handle this mothering thing. But I'm still pretty happy I don't have to handle it by myself. Ron's home on Sunday!

Pushing the Race Card

2008-10-23T06:10:00.000-07:00

This morning, I watched an interview on CNN that outlined how McCain's ancestors owned slaves. Ouch. McCain denied it, but then presented with evidence, he claimed it wasn't something he knew about. Maybe. Maybe not.

But is it relevent? At the time of this post, I can't find a link to this morning's story.

A New Perspective on Blogs

2008-10-22T10:15:00.000-07:00

Thanks, Jen.

Oh Joe

2008-10-22T08:54:00.000-07:00

“Mark my words. It will not be six months before the world tests Barack Obama like they did John Kennedy. The world is looking. We’re about to elect a brilliant 47-year-old senator president of the United States of America.” he told a fundraising crowd in the Pacific Northwest on Sunday. “Remember I said it standing here if you don’t remember anything else I said. Watch, we’re gonna have an international crisis, a generated crisis, to test the mettle of this guy.” You can read about it here and here.

Good going, Joe. You just reinforced the Republicans fears that our enemies think they can walk all over Obama.

And for the record, I think Palin is right. Biden isn't getting a whole lot of press about this comment (unless you're watching Fox News), but if Palin said something similiar about McCain, it would be the lead story of the day.

9/11

2008-10-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

I find it absurd that police in Nowheresville, Massachusetts are demanding September 11th off when NYPD don't get it as a holiday. I'm not opposed to September 11th eventually being a holiday per se, but the idea that it would begin in Massachusetts is completely ridiculous.

Phanatic

2008-10-20T14:13:00.000-07:00

By the way, it's impossible to find any toddler-size Phillies gear in the city or immediate suburbs. Or further out suburbs, like Exton. I know, I've tried.

Song of the Day

2008-10-18T17:59:00.001-07:00

Because it's stuck in my head is "Unsustainable" by Eliza Gilkyson.

Weekend v. Weekend

2008-10-09T06:20:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, we dropped Rolo off at my parents' house and headed up to Manhattan for a much-anticipated overnight trip with Ron's friends. There were 6 of us, 3 couples and I very much like these people. So I thought what could be better than hanging out with great people in NYC?

Well. Well, when we got to our hotel, we found out we didn't have a reservation. I thought I had made a reservation online, but it turns out that their online reservation system is too complicated for me to handle. So, there we were in the middle of Times Square, of all places, with no hotel reservation for that night. This did not seem to me to be an ideal situation.

Luckily, the hotel that we did not have reservations at helped us book a room across the street here. I was totally dreading this, figuring it would be some fleabag dive, but guess what? It was really nice. Small. Very small room. But very clean, modern decor with H20 Plus toiletries that I just loved. So things weren't looking too bad.

Then we met up with the friends, and the NYC-resident friend insisted that we all go to Brooklyn. I like Brooklyn, my whole family was raised in Brooklyn, but it was already late in the day, and if I wanted to stay in Brooklyn I would have gotten a hotel room in Brooklyn. So we all traipse to Brooklyn, go to a brewery only to learn the tours are over and it closes in 30 minutes. So we go in search of a pub where we can watch the Phillies game. We find one, but it's not super-fun and the Phillies are losing. We decide to move on and come upon a Mexican restaurant with the Phillies on a big screen. We watch them lose and eat some of the most God-awful guacamole I've ever had.

No one's really having any fun and so we decide we'll head back into Manhattan. At the subway station, I use my "all-day" MetroCard with no problem. But then most of the group does have a problem with their all-day cards. The card reader keeps telling them "swipe again" and won't let them through the turnstile for several minutes. So some random stranger opens the adjacent door to the turnstile to let them through and I turn to the only other person in our group that successfully got through the turnstile and joked, "Well, we could have done that for them, but I guess we just like watching them struggle."

And then all of a sudden two men who had been loitering around the turnstile, watching our group unsuccessfully swipe their metro cards, start flashing badges. Two undercover cops. Did you know that it's illegal to go through the doors at the subways station instead of the turnstile?

I mean it makes sense and I'm sure fare evasion is a big problem in the city. A 45 minute ordeal ensued that resulted in tickets for each person in our party who walked through the door and also one for the guy who opened the door. The guy who opened the door seemed really nice and said he did it because someone did it for him when his MetroCard didn't work one day. His Russian wife was NOT PLEASED about this ticket he was receiving for "being a good Samaritan" and she made the entire situation worse by yelling at the cops. Things almost got out of hand when she pulled out the ol' "my taxes pay your salary" line.

Here's the thing, and I know this first hand: NYC cops don't fuck around. They have a low tolerance for back-talk and since they deal with the worst of the worst, they don't distinguish one type of crime from another. We're all scumbags. They don't really have the luxury of sorting out shades of gray, so everything is black and white. So when the Russian lady was getting in the cop's face, I had visions of us all getting arrested. And frankly, I don't need to get arrested ever again, but that's a story for another day.

In the end, the three offenders in our group walked away with $100 tickets. They're going to try to appeal these by demonstrating that they each had valid all day MetroCards and therefore, regardless of whether they walked through a door or not, no "fare evasion" took place.

Anyway, so all this sort of bummed us out and we (finally) arrived back in Manhattan for a drink, except no one was really in the mood and we headed back to our hotels.

This weekend, Ron, Rolo and I are headed to New England for our annual fall trip. Specifically, we're going to Portsmouth, NH and Newport, RI. This is our 3rd year of at least dropping by Newport on our trip because we really like the town. Last night I decided to use Priceline to find a hotel in Newport, but I assumed my price would be rejected because that's how things usually go on Priceline. I put in for a 3.5 star hotel in Newport for $175, because I was feeling generous and also because the median price for a hotel of that rating in Newport is $375.00. Well, they accepted it right away and now 1) I am kicking myself for not putting in $125.00 instead and 2) I'm alittle nervous about staying in a non-chain, swanky hotel with a toddler.

But there's probably very little chance that we'll have a run in with police officers on this trip, but I'm thinking this will be a better weekend.

Months 13 & 14

2008-10-07T09:14:00.001-07:00

Rolo turned 14 months old last week. Now he's walking, running even, albeit a little like Frankenstein, so it looks like I've got a full blown toddler on my hands. I'm sort of amazed that he started walking at 13 months old, because several of his other gross motor skills, while not "delayed", have occurred on the later side of the spectrum. I'm thrilled that he decided not to wait until I had a panic attack about my he wasn't walking to start doing it. Most of the time, he walks around without any big hoopla, but if you crouch down low across from him and put your arms out, gesturing that you'd like him to walk towards you, he beams, claps and proudly shows off his new walking skills.

His fine motor skills, which have always been somewhat advanced, continue to develop. He loves taking things apart and trying to put them back together. He loves puzzles, buttons, and LORD KNOWS any sort of electronics.

Rolo's big into mimicking right now. He'll copy us as we blow on his food to cool it, or he'll copy a face we're making. His language skills aren't so great yet, he basically only says "mama", "dada", "baba" and "DAT" (everything is "DAT"). If you ask him to say something, he'll "sort of" repeat it. He'll get the tone right, but not the sounds. Like if you ask him what sound the cow makes, he'll say "Oooo" in the same tone that I previously said "Mooo" a couple of days earlier. We've been working on "please" and "thank you", but of course, he just looks at us like we're nuts.

Rolo seems to be a lot like me when I was his age, according to my mom. He's able to entertain himself for periods of time. When he wakes up in the morning, he doesn't cry; instead he talks to himself, sometimes for 45 minutes or so. He loves, LOVES, books. He'll page through a book (and I don't know how he know this, but he always knows which way to hold the book--if he ever picks one up upside-down, he immediately turns it rightside-up) for a good 15 minutes. He's able to point to any babies, dogs, cats, monkeys or frogs in any book upon request. I have a feeling, with the right guidance, he may be a fairly bright kid. I hope so.

In the last two months he's gotten big into stuffed animals. He never paid any attention to them before, but recently he seeks a few of them out. He loves tackling them and giving them hugs. So far we're kept all his new "friends" out of his crib, although it may only be a matter of time before he wants to sleep with one.

Next up is Operation: Kill Binky. I'm not sure exactly when, but we'd like to cease the use of his pacifier soon. He only gets it at naptime or when he's going to bed. Actually, they discontinued using it at daycare entirely, so really, he's only getting a binky when he's with us. I'll feel kind of mean, taking it away from him but I know it'll only get harder as he gets older.

Speaking of harder, with toddlerdom, the attitude problem is beginning to emerge. He does things just to see my reaction. The other day, I took something away from him, a course of action he did not like, and he pinched me in retailation. Fresh, that boy. So far, I've spoken nicely but firmly to him each time he does something he's not supposed to, but I definitely need to read up on discipling a toddler.

There have been several times when I've quickly looked at Rolo, walking around, wearing jeans and a polo shirt and thought "Wow, I have a little boy now."

Random Thoughts

2008-10-06T10:31:00.000-07:00

I'm putting this here for no other reason than I want to be able to look back and see if I was right. And no, I'm not pregnant.

Since Rolo was born, I've felt that if we had another child, it will be another boy. We have a girl named picked out and in a way, I think I always envisioned having a boy and a girl. But it will be another boy. He will be named for his father, and he will have brown squinty eyes, dark skin and darker hair. In other words, he would look Italian, unlike my little Irish-looking Rolo. And so there would be Rolo and a new baby, brothers who look nothing alike. It always strikes me, when siblings look nothing alike, with different eye and hair color. Both my parents had light hair, skin and blue eyes. My brother and I don't think we look very similar but the reality is you can only look but so different when your parents have similar features to each other. Not the case with Ron and I.

Other random premonitions? That pregnancy number #2 wouldn't be nearly as pleasant as #1. While I loved being pregnant, my body was in good shape when I got pregnant. I've suffered from all sorts of bizarro aches and pains since then. And I can only imagine that being pregnant when you have nothing else to think about is a lot nicer than being pregnant while chasing a toddler around. This is my main argument for waiting to have a kid until Rolo is older. Plus, I'm probably due for some morning sickness or something.

Also, Rolo was an excellent baby. He was sick a lot but he had a great temperament. very pleasant. Good sleeper, good eater. I likely won't be as lucky next time. Whenever next time might be. Sometime in the next 5 years.

What do you think the next five years holds for you?

TV

2008-10-03T10:11:00.000-07:00

I need a new TV stand. I need one with doors on it. Doors to hide all the electronic devices from Rolo, who nearly swallowed my iPod the other day. And who has taken to turning on the DVD player randomly. He does this while the TV is on but not on the right setting for a DVD. So the DVD starts playing in audio, like a CD. And it's alarming. You'll be sitting there, watching House Hunters, minding your own business, not realizing that Rolo turned on the DVD player. And then WHAM! All of a sudden, the Baby Einstein, or some other nonsense, music comes on AT TOP VOLUME on the surround sound system. It can make you jump out of your skin.

Because we have a flat screen, and can no longer balance the cable box on top of the TV, I was initially thinking a TV stand with glass panels. You know so the cable box can be in the TV stand and still work with the remote. I love the look of this one. I love me craftman style anything. But large, unreinforced glass panels + toddler = emergency room trip waiting to happen. At least for my kid who loves to bang on any piece of glass he can find.

So now I'm thinking smaller glass panes for smaller risk of breakage, like this one. I love that it's red, but it's not very deep. And have I mentioned that our entire apartment is on a slant? It is, and boy, what a challenge that makes everything. So I'm not sure putting our top-heavy ginormous TV on top of a skinny media stand on a slope is the answer.

Of course I could get a large media center, but that's a large-ass piece of furniture for not a very big space. And interestingly, a piece that large would make the slope that much more noticeable. Because I'd have a large-ass piece of furniture which would look all slant-y. I know this would be an issue, because I have several large bookcases in the same area that I have on wedges to make them look less slant-y.

Oy. It's never easy.

More on Sarah

2008-10-03T08:57:00.000-07:00

In case you thought I hadn't noticed, I'm aware that Sarah Palin has sounded like someone with a lobotomy during recent interviews. I can't say for sure, but she'd probably do a bit better if the McCain campaign would just let her speak, but I think they're keeping her on a short leash.

Her debate was okay, although you could tell she was nervous. Not as good as her speech at the convention. Joe Biden, who's typically a total windbag, did a really good job too.

Anyway, the way Palin pronounces "Ameer-i-can" (over and over again) gets on my nerves and yet I can't stop mimicking her.

Some Things from the 80s Can Stay There

2008-10-02T06:58:00.000-07:00

And I think limp neck bows are among them.

Vaccine, Schmaccine

2008-10-01T10:50:00.000-07:00

I've been listening a lot to Jenny McCarthy. Specifically about vaccines.

Rolo is fully vaccinated to date. Let's just get that out of the way.

I don't really question the idea of vaccines; I think kids should be vaccinated. But I have begun to question the timelines for vaccination. Rolo's first vaccination occurred when he was about 30 hours old for hepatitis B. At the time, I thought this was odd, but since the doctors were recommending it and I was planning on vaccinating him anyway, I okay'd it. Most hospitals offer the vaccine to newborns. According the the CDC, hep B is transmitted by "contact with infectious blood, semen, and other body fluids from having sex with an infected person, sharing contaminated needles to inject drugs, or from an infected mother to her newborn." It was already known that I didn't have hep B, so I wouldn't be transmitting it. So looking back, and given that the chance of my newborn having sex or shooting drugs was fairly small, I could have passed on that vaccine for now.

I know, I know. They offer the vaccine at birth because it can be given to a baby that young and because it ensures that children who will almost never be brought to a doctor again will have at least that vaccine.

I know, from our lovely genetic sequencing escapades, that each person can have any number genetic hiccups that they don't even know about. Would never know about unless they had extensive genetic testing. Things that don't effect anyone's day-to-day life. Variants and mutations that live outside the world of exhaustive research and studies. So, do I think it's possible that a vaccine could effect a genetic mutation or variant? Maybe jump-start something that was already there? Yeah, I do. I mean, yeah.

I can almost see at least one of you rolling your eyes. People point to the case I linked to above and cry "See?!?!?! Vaccines DO cause autism." I'm not ready to jump to that conclusion. But I do think there are ways in which vaccines could aggravate some existing thing. It seems to be the consensus that genetics and environmental factors play a part in autism. Depending on which statistics you look at, one in every 150 to 500 births, results in an autistic child. According to some, it's the fast-growing disability in the U.S.

I'm not just pointing to vaccines themselves either. There are other environmental factors. Take a look again at the chemicals in half of the things we eat or products we use. Do we know how any of them might effect an underlying condition?

I don't mean to get all apocalyptic here. All I'm saying is that never questioned the safety or the timeline in which vaccines were given before Rolo was born. I never questioned a lot of things before Rolo. Find out about the timelines. Do babies need to be given 3 vaccines every 3 months for essentially their first year or two of life? Are there delayed timetables for giving vaccines? When, or do, children "have to" have vaccines? I already researched the answers to these questions.

Ask questions, do your research, make decision based on what you think is right.

And More Good News....

2008-09-29T11:01:00.000-07:00

I'm not a "big government" kind of girl. I don't believe that its the government's job to fix everything. Sometimes bad things happen, but that doesn't always mean that government should swoop in with an answer.

The bailout, the ones months ago, to help out people who were facing foreclosure? I wasn't a big fan. I'm going to say something wildy unpopular: in a good number of foreclosures, people took out morgages that they couldn't afford. Now you can argue that the morgages lenders mislead these folks into thinking that they could afford the morgages. But I'm all about personal accountability.

My brother works on Wall Street, and I can only imagine that he's not having the best day. He's even less sympathetic about the morgage crisis than I am.

Regarding today's $700 billion bail out, I'm not sure what to think. Fundamentally, I don't think a bail out is a good idea. The reality is that there are market crashes and sometimes things have to get bad in order to get better. But then again, I'm not a finance person. And many finance people, and ESPECIALLY the media are panicking about the current financial situation, so maybe the bail out isn't a bad idea? I don't think people in this country would be able to cope with a depression, line the one in the 1930s. I mean I just don't think we're equipped for that kind of overall hardship for an extended period as a country.

Watching, waiting.

Financial Meltdown Starts Hitting Closer to Home

2008-09-29T10:46:00.000-07:00

Sigh. I have accounts with several different banks, but one of them is Wachovia. They say it's not a failure but the FDIC still had to assume some of the debt.

And I'm Heart-Broken

2008-09-28T12:57:00.000-07:00

But they'll likely be divorced in a year.

Must See TV

2008-09-28T12:51:00.000-07:00

I am SO watching this tonight.

Weird Conversations (Or Self-Serving Attitudes About Politics)

2008-09-28T08:02:00.000-07:00

Me: You know, I'm not like 100%, gung-ho Obama, but I am leaning towards him.

R: I know, I know. But you realize he's going to tax the crap out of us, right?

Me: Well...(sigh).

R: You realize we're not going to be middle class anymore? Not according to him. I've worked a long time and those taxes will take a higher gross salary and turn it into low net salary.

Me: Well, unless you're planning on making $5 million a year, which is impossible, we'll be middle class forever with McCain, regardless.

Song of the Day

2008-09-24T18:10:00.001-07:00

Because it's stuck in my head is "Can't Go Back Now" by The Weepies.

Fall Trip

2008-09-24T18:07:00.000-07:00

At the risk of sounding redundant, I really love this weather. Time to start planning the annual fall trip. Because it's, um, two weeks away.

Fall Back

2008-09-22T17:16:00.000-07:00

So it's the first day of fall and to celebrate, Rolo spiked a fever of 103. As usual, he's so happy and continuing to play, even though he must feel miserable. He's the best kid ever.

But it's going to be a long winter. I'm pretty much expecting illness from now until May. Why did I breast feed, again? Wasn't it to prevent allergies and boost immunity? Yeah, that worked well.

Weather

2008-09-19T10:27:00.000-07:00

You know, I'm totally dreading the thought of winter, the short daylight hours, being holed up for months because it's too cold to take the kid out just for fun. But that aside, I have to say I'm really enjoying this fall-like weather. I mean it's glorious. And there's something comforting about putting on a light sweater for the first time in months.

An Open Letter

2008-09-17T07:44:00.001-07:00

Dear Universe,

Stop conspiring to get me to have another kid.

Thank you,
DJ Heavy D

Throw Down

2008-09-15T19:17:00.000-07:00

So day care was up my ass today, calling both Ron and I regularly to let us know that Rolo looked "blotchy", "red" and was "irritable". I was pretty confident, based on their description that it wasn't his allergies--not his food allergies anyway. Frankly, I chalked it up to his overly sensitive skin. He breaks out into rashes on a semi-regular basis and they go away in 24 hours. I was tempted to go check on him at lunchtime, but honestly, he's got that separation anxiety thing going on and if he saw me, he'd freak out that I was leaving again.

So today after work, I picked him up and noticed they had changed him out of the clothes he wore in--not necessarily unusual, as feeding times are messy and Rolo has a habit of taking his bowl of watermelon and dumping the juice all over himself. But when I pulled the clothes he wore into daycare out of the little baggie they send them home in, I didn't find a poopy mess or food stains. Instead I noticed the entire back of his shirt was stained with bleach. Shirt smelled like bleach too. Bleach.

I don't use bleach.

The bleach stains go through the material entirely and the pattern of the bleach along the back makes me suspect that he sat against something that was wiped down with a bleach solution. I know that they need to kill germs and I don't necessarily fault the day care for cleaning with bleach (assuming this is how this happened). But. BUT.

It didn't freaking occur to these morons that perhaps, just maybe, Rolo's skin was irritated because he sat in bleach? I mean I spoke to them twice today, Ron spoke to them at least one time and not ONCE did they mention the bleach. I don't give a shit that the shirt is ruined, but I am pissed that they didn't mention it or leave a note for me when I picked him up. And while they do need to clean, should they be using a solution strong enough that it stains clothing?

Make room in the principal's office because DJ Heavy is paying visit.

Back!

2008-09-15T17:53:00.000-07:00

So we're back from our trip to nowhere. Which really wound up being some time in Maryland. We used the trailer, down by the river, as our base and made day trips to Baltimore and Annapolis. Which, by the way, LOVED Annapolis. Not a large town, but very cute. Lots of cute stores, which meant shopping.

And speaking of shopping, my feet still are messed up since the ol' baby-o and so I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm a sneaker and Aerosoles kind of girl. I got these in black and these, also in black (what else?). These are next on my "to buy" list once they go on sale.

Tomorrow, I'm getting a hair cut and having dinner with friends. It's a good week.

Ashamed to Admit

2008-09-09T19:58:00.000-07:00

I'm sort of addicted to "Million Dollar Listing".

But who the hell gave Rachel Zoe her own show?

This and That

2008-09-08T09:15:00.000-07:00

Lots of interesting stuff up in here. Well, maybe not so interesting to you, but to me.

First, a new bed. Finally after years of cohabitation, we finally have a king sized bed. It was a little touch and go because I didn't sleep well on it for the first two night and Ron, who slept like a baby for the first time in years, started weeping at the thought of returning the bed. Lucky for him, the last two nights, I slept with no problem. So the bed stays.

We're supposedly going on vacation later this week for a few days. We still do not have a destination. We're crazy, last-minute people like that! Hell, I don't even care where we go as long as it's not my office. Today, I'm thinking Virginia Beach.

Lastly, Rolo is all over the place and started walking. And by walking I mean on three different occasions he's taken 3 steps by himself and then fallen down. But it's progress! He also says "Dat!" while pointing at things (usually food) that he'd like to have. And finally, after months of trying the sign language thing, he makes the sign for "done". Which is the same universal sign for "all done", the one babies usually make. And he doesn't do the sign with actual meaning. If I ask "are you all done", he signs "done", but that doesn't mean he's actually done. He just thinks it's the only answer to the question.

My friend, Meg, who I've blogged about here, is leaving. She lives 4 blocks away from me, which is super convenient, but now she's following her dream job and moving to Jersey City. I'm happy for her; sad for me. No more last-minute happy hours.

Lastly, I need a good shopping excursion. New shoes are needed.

Danger, in the Game When the Stakes are High

2008-09-04T09:51:00.000-07:00

So.....how are you? Anything new? Watch anything interesting on TV lately?

I haven't said much about Sarah Palin here. Mostly because I'm not a particularly political person but also, because I've had a bunch of different thoughts about her that have evolved over the last week, and most of them contradict each other.

First off, I couldn't believe there wasn't some more qualified, less baggage kind of lady politician out there for the VP pick. In fact, the day Sarah Palin was announced, my husband came home from work and the first thing he said to me was "So, John McCain committed political suicide today, eh?"

But then, by yesterday I actually had to turn off CNN and tune into Fox News (which I usually can't watch without laughing). I was so damn sick of every CNN anchor asking every female they interviewed whether she (the interviewee) would be able to handle the VP position with small children at home. The urge to start clawing at skin was great.

I don't agree with many of her opinions. But the hair on the back of my neck still stands up on end when I hear people trashing her, resorting to her family or the fact that she was a beauty queen. I think she's a young, attractive, family-oriented woman who happens to also be a politician and I think that scares the shit of people.

I mean if you want to go after the ethics thing or the lobbying thing, or the thin resume thing (although, pot? kettle?)fair game. But people seemed to be assuming she was some sort of completely inexperienced idiot and, I couldn't help but get the feeling that it had something to do with...her. Like her gender.

So, last night, there I was, a registered Republican, unsure of who I am voting for come November. So many pros and cons to both sides. So uncertain of this Sarah Palin person, this person that so many predicted was going to fall on her face last night, that I stayed up well past my bedtime to watch her speak.

I don't care who you are, or what your political leanings are, Sarah Palin was awesome. Okay, I think she could have backed off some of the Obama-slamming. And I don't agree with some of her views and I don't know that I'll be voting for John McCain this November, but I can't help but admire a woman who just had a baby, is a mother of five, in the midst of all sorts of scandal, and delivered a speech like that to millions of people. That woman just had a baby 4 months ago, and she's a freaking vice presidential candidate for the United States of America.

Awesome.

Update

2008-09-02T06:02:00.000-07:00

I realize I haven't been writing here as much as I normally do and I think because any news these days seems to be about Rolo and I never intended this blog to be exclusively baby content. With that, let me say:

Rolo has pink eye. Again.

I have pink eye, as of this morning. Again.

Now, I realize in the grand scheme of things, pink eye isn't that big of a deal. I had pink eye as a kid a couple of times and didn't think much of it. However, after last time, the thought of having pink eye again is enough to send me screaming into the night.

In other news, Rolo was moved to the "older toddler" room in day care this morning. Because at 13 months, he definitely classifies as an older toddler. Can you see the sarcasm dripping from that last sentence? I'm not sure who is less ready for this, him or me (likely the latter), but things were a hot mess this morning.

Speaking of 13 months, I'm due to write a Rolo monthly update and I want to do one because he's up to all sorts of fun things, but it'll have to wait a day or two.

VEEP

2008-08-29T08:35:00.000-07:00

I'm not suggesting he picked her ONLY because she's a woman, but it's a pretty interesting trick just the same.

Charities Are Beginning To Get on My Nerves

2008-08-29T08:12:00.000-07:00

Well, that should get me some brownie points with karma, right?

About six months ago, I donated to a cystic fibrosis charity. As you may remember, Rolo was at risk for possibly having an atypical type of CF, but it seems he's fine and I was feeling like I should do something to pay it forward. So I donate. And since then I get another request via snail mail every week to donate more. Requests that come with packs return address stickers, personalized just for me. As if to say, "we made you these labels, now don't you want to make another donation". So I now have no fewer than 500 return address labels. Whatever.

But now, other charities have gotten wind of my charitable nature and I'm now getting literally 3 donation requests a week from all sorts of organizations. Breast cancer research. Diabetes. Alzheimer's. Lung cancer. And they all come with personalized return address labels. Or some other gift. Like a nickel. There's actually some charity that mails you a freakin' nickel in order to entice you to donate. Wha? YOU ARE A CHARITY. SAVE YOUR NICKELS!

Today from the cystic fibrosis people, I got a personalized notepad in a fall theme, along with, you guessed it, some fall-themed return address labels.

My question is, what to do with all this stuff? I mean I feel bad just tossing all these labels. It seems wasteful. But is it also wrong to use free stuff from a charity to which I'm never going to donate? And couldn't they just take all the money they'd save in printing all these labels and use that for their charity?

I'm going to use the notepad I received today. But that's only because I will eventually donate to CF again.

Shoot.

2008-08-28T13:54:00.000-07:00

I love Haba toys. But I had a feeling it was only a matter of time before the

recalls started

. None of the ones Rolo has. Yet.

I still believe the toys are well made, but honestly, many do have small parts.

Conversations

2008-08-25T06:56:00.001-07:00

Me: So, I finally decided that I needed to track down all my pairs of gray sweatsocks that have gone missing. You know how I complain that I keep having fewer and fewer pairs? Well, I was finally down to almost none and thought "This is ridiculous, these socks can't all be eaten by the dryer."

Ron: And did you find them?

Me: I did. I did find them. Do you know where I found them?

Ron: Where?

Me: IN YOUR SOCK DRAWER! You have been ABSCONDING with my favorite socks! You're a thief.

Ron: We don't share a sock drawer?

Me: What?! You think we share a sock drawer?

Ron: I do. I did. I've always put your socks in there when I put away laundry. Since when do we not share a sock drawer?

Me: Since NEVER! What would make you think we shared a sock drawer?

Ron: I thought you told me we did.

Me: Didn't you think it was strange that there were never any of my socks in there?

Ron: Well. The gray socks were in there.

Me: Come over here so I can punch you in the face.