Things I Don't Know How to Process

Today Hailey asked for the iPad. By name, as in "I want iPad." It's her first technology ask (besides DragonTales, which I suppose counts). 

Is it bad that she wants to play with the screen? It's far from the first time she's asked for a toy - baby, blankie, tea, animal, ball, etc. And while she has liked playing with the iPad for a long time, it's now apparently part of her routine. 

I think it's OK. She plays with plenty of technology and non-technology toys. She sits sometimes and runs sometimes. And when it's not -50 she's perfectly content outside. So while I am definitely raising a 21st century daughter, I think she'll be OK. 

That's Not How We Behave

Now that Hailey's at an age where she occasionally needs to be punished, there's a whole new series of decisions to make. What deserves a punishment? Is there a warning? What is the actual punishment? Why are toddler punishments such a pain for the parents? And the list goes on. 

Some decisions aren't too tough. Time-outs, one minute or slightly more, one warning, boring consistency. 

But as she ages, and even now, these decisions will be harder. Nick and I recently had a discussion about teenage drinking, and we didn't immediately agree (we aren't that far off, and we have some time to decide so it's hardly code red). Grandparents and the general public have opinions they are all happy to share. 

And the consistency. Ugh. It's so easy to let things slide. Or to bend the rules occasionally. Or to make rules on the spot. Some of this will happen and some of it's OK. But it never makes it easier. 

And now I am overthinking. My parenting style usually involves overthinking. It will all work out. There's no perfect way to parent, but there are lots of pretty good ways. 

33

Yesterday my birthday. I know I was born in 1980, so with some simple math I can deduce that I'm 33. Yes, I am now officially at the age when I have to think about how old I am. When I was a kid I thought that was so pathetic. Wow, how things have changed.

The other day I realized that I feel like a real grown-up almost all the time. Yikes. Does that mean I'm more mature? Not likely. Maybe. But probably no. Really it probably boils down to being busier and more efficient in decision making. And realizing that my decisions have repercussions for me and for others.

There are still so many things I want to do. Ideally I would drop to a four-day workweek (I should probably ask about that, but I'm not ready to take a potential pay cut just yet). I want to have another kid. I want to go on vacation with Nick this winter. I want to see my friends more and make more local friends. Short-term goals, mostly, and all things that are doable.

Long-term? I'm not sure what I want. I've honestly never pictured my life past this point. At some point I'd like to retire. Be debt-free. Maybe write, but probably not. Enjoy Hailey and her potential siblings at all phases of their lives. I'm getting better about living intentionally, but there's still so much time wasted.

Lately, I've stopped being so emotional about everything that happens to me - the tears are still there, but first I make the decisions and do whatever needs to be done. I bawled at the news I was being laid off, but I was fully together when Nick fell. And both situations ultimately turned out fine. Like most do.

Anyway, another year. Maybe 34 is the magic age when I finally have all my shit together. 

If I Had One Wish

Friends, the death of Cory Monteith is really affecting me more than it should. Why? Sadly, plenty of celebrities have died before their time due to addiction. Plenty more will. So I have a few theories as to why this one is impacting me so much.

1. Cory was younger than I am (by like a year, but still). I'm apparently at the age where "gone too soon" means someone close to my age.
2. I'm a total Gleek. So this time it's someone I was a fan of who was at the height of their fame.
3. I'm a mom now. Just one more thing to worry about.

It's probably a combination of all these things. Maybe it's something else, I don't know. Obviously this is not someone I know, but it still hurts.

I've never been an addict myself (social drinker, but I can and have function fine with weeks or even months between drinks, and I am aware of my limits when I do imbibe), so I can't speak to the feeling. But I have some powers of observation, so I realize that the addict may be a swell person but the drugs are not swell and completely take over. They take away all sense of reason or awareness and control. They may leave the person alone for awhile, but they're always nagging.

If I had one wish for Hailey, it would be that she never start with addictive substances. Unfortunately, I'm not the only mom who wishes this, and it's clearly not a case of wishing making it so. And I don't think it's due to parenting or willpower or anything else I can make happen. And while there's not necessarily a causal impact here, you don't have to travel very far back in her bloodline to find some pretty gnarly mental health/substance abuse issues (for the sake of protecting privacy, let's just say it spans her parents' generation, her grandparents' generation and her great-grandparents' generation, and it's pretty widespread).

Of all the things to protect your kids from, this may be the hardest. And the most important.

And if you're someone who needs help, please reach out. If you're not sure if you need help, talk to someone. We're all pulling for you.

The Summer of Plan B

Sorry about the delay, folks ... this may or may not be worth the wait. 

So I realized I'm behind in blogging. I haven't even posted here that I have a new job (working in marketing at Legacy Building Solutions, a company that makes tension fabric buildings). This is the end of week two, and so far so good. The people are nice, the atmosphere is family-like, and I get to learn new things (good: construction terms; less good: Photoshop) which will be useful in real life and the future, and I get to be creative and have my ideas used.

Which is not the summer of laid off I was expecting. Or the summer of working at DealChicken I was expecting before that. Nick is still on bedrest, so it's been busy at home. Thank God for my mother-in-law for helping with Nick every day, to our daycare lady for being so awesome and flexible, and to pretty much everyone else for being generally supportive.

So new job and being the only one in my house who can put on pants has come with many demands on me. And it's meant missing out on some things (a wedding, naps, trips to Maddock), but it's also meant more family time than we probably would have had otherwise (everyone is at home every evening). And "adaptability" is one of my top five strengths, so it's actually gone a little better than I thought it would (so far I've been to work on time every day!). Money-wise I think it will be fine, but it's hard to tell as we haven't gotten any bills yet to see how everything will shake out with insurance. But we've been eating at home and only driving one car, so I'm not too worried about it.

And so plan B continues. And it's a good thing - if I were laid off this whole time, we probably would have a hard time with bills since Nick also isn't working. And who knows how we'd be treating each other if we were home all day every day (our relationship is fine, but there's such a thing as personal space). And we got to watch the whole season of Arrested Development together. And I've finally figured out how to make Cream of Wheat without boiling it over and making a huge mess.

So that's an update on the summer of plan B. Hopefully I'll get back to regular blogging, and better posts than this, soon. It's good for the soul.

One Year

Exactly one year ago today, I was starting to realize I really was in labor (technically my water broke very early in the morning, but all morning and part of the afternoon was pretty pain-free). That means today has marked one year since I've become a mom. And I've learned some things.

• When moms say they don't even remember their baby as a very new infant, they really are telling the truth. 
• Sleep is the best thing ever. But sleeping with a baby is the very best thing ever. 
• You really will worry every time something is wrong. Even if it's something minor. You're that person. 
• You'll cry when you go back to work. You'll move on and become a productive worker again, but those first few days suck. 
• The baby really will be fine. Most of the choices six of one, half dozen of the other.
• If you stress out, so will the baby. This does not make not-stressing-out any easier. 
• You'll become someone who gets sad and/or cries when something happens to a fictional baby on TV. 
• You only have to become part of the mommy wars if you want to be. When in doubt, stay off the damn Internet. 
• Make time for other people. Your friends, your family, and especially your spouse. This may be harder than it seems, but it's vitally important. 
• Babies reach milestones on their own time. Don't compare your kid to others. This is difficult. 
• You really will use a baby voice. So will everyone else you know. 
• You will love that baby more than you thought you ever could. 
• You may love being pregnant, and you may love the child growing inside you. But once the baby is actually born and becomes a real person, it's a whole new ballgame. 
• Oh, and those first weeks after the baby is born are uncomfortable bordering on painful. Cabbage leaves in your bra will help. 

The First Six Months

Thanks to Revanche at A Gai Shan Life for the idea ...

Nick and I met online. And for several months, that's where a lot of our relationship took place - we IMed a lot (remember when you did that not at work?). We were living about an hour apart from each other - me in an apartment, he in a house with his sister. So for several years we drove back and forth every other weekend.

And in that first six months (or what I remember as the first six months - some of these things may have actually happened later, but memory is subjective), we learned a lot about each other. The role of family in our lives, and the role of friends. How we felt about and related to money (hint: we learned to actually talk about it). How we spent our free time. And what we saw in the future.

And we created a lot of memories in those months. Inside jokes we still use today. Fun times, and silly times. I knew right away this was it - after our first or second date I told a co-worker I wouldn't be dating anyone new anytime soon. And seven years later, I still don't think I'll be dating anyone else. And now we've created more memories, created our own little family and learned more about how to relate to each other. But if we hadn't had those first six months, I don't know where we'd be today.

A Grown-Up House

You know those people who can entertain at the drop of a hat? Their house is always picked up. The house looks like someone actually thought about the decor. There's always something to serve, even if it's baby carrots and coffee ...

Yeah. I don't have one of those houses. I grew up like that (my mom's actually a very good entertainer), so I know it's not that the house is uncomfortable for the people who live there. I'm just too lazy. Even before I had the baby, I wasn't good at picking up - much less vacuuming, etc. Sometimes I notice cobwebs in the corners. Rarer still, I do something about them.

And sometimes it bothers me. This weekend I have a group of friends coming for breakfast. Luckily, they're laid-back friends who care more about the company than the actual house - and I'll make bacon, which means it will be a winner. Hailey's birthday party is in a few weeks. That's the type of event with mothers and grandmothers in attendance, so I'll probably tidy up for that and serve food out of serving dishes (thanks to my previous job, I have them in extreme abundance).

And someday, I probably will get in the habit of regularly doing just a little bit of maintenance to add up to a nice home. But for now, we finally have a couch that matches and isn't broken - so that's enough for me today. If you come to my house, pay attention to my delightfulness rather than my messiness.

Give Yourself a Break

This morning I woke up to a dusting of snow (which was expected to and did melt quickly). Hailey slept late (until about 8:00, which is a solid hour later than usual). And the house, as expected, had not cleaned itself overnight - the dishwasher remained unloaded, the floors remained neither swept nor vacuumed, the dust was solidly in place and the birthday party invitations were not yet addressed. And tonight is the night I have to make supper so that we can have leftovers for the rest of the week. Add that to my work stress (which is improved from a week ago, but still not a good situation), and I was one unhappy Juliet. 

So I made an executive decision. I did not want to go to work. Do I gave myself a work from home day. Baby got to sleep in before being bundled off to daycare. I took some chicken out to thaw, and I put it in the oven before going to pick up the little one. And I used my lunch break to vacuum. Things are still dusty and the invitations will be done shortly, but it was a good day overall. The work stress was still there, but I had time to get it done without worrying about pick-up time. 

I gave myself a break. And that little decision made my day. If you can work from home, do it. If you can't, maybe your break is waking up 10 minutes earlier to tidy up. Maybe it's calling a friend during your commute. Maybe your break is letting the house stay dirty for another day or two. Getting a pedicure while the kids are with their dad. Or maybe it's picking up pizza so you don't have to cook. I've done all these things at one time or another, and it's almost always worth it. Trust me - you're no good to your family or your work or even yourself if you're too tightly wound. You know your breaking point - give yourself a break before you get there. 

Three Years

Today was our third anniversary. It was a cold, snowy day - quite the contrast from our beautiful, springy wedding day. We planned to go to the restaurant where we had our reception for a smelt fry (my first), but sick baby means that plans are postponed until tomorrow.

How has my life changed in the past three years? We lived together before we were married (scandal!), so it's easy to say not very much. And we've since had a baby, so it's easy to say in every way possible. But I think the real answer is somewhere in between.

I've learned that it's OK to sometimes give up control. We combined checking accounts, so I never even check it any more ... I used to check it at least once a day. But I know we both know how to live within our means, and I know he's honest with me when I ask how we're doing. And I do know how to check the account, so there's always a back-up plan.

I've learned to take other people into account. When you're single it's sometimes easier to make decisions, since it really only affects you. But it's nice to have a fully invested sounding board, as well as someone else to occasionally make decisions.

I think the best thing about our relationship is that we're great partners. Not in the sense that we split all chores 50/50 (although we each pull our weight) or that we always agree (although usually we can come to a conclusion we're both happy with). It's more about being complements. I'm somewhat prone to losing my shit, and Nick is a great calming influence on that. We each have skills the other lacks. And we know we don't have to take the world on alone. I loved being single, and I was great at it, but I love being married. I love you, Nick.

And Here's Where This Becomes the Mommy-est of Mommyblogs

Today, a good friend of mine ran the Boston Marathon. 25 miles of it, because some asshats bombed the finish line. She's OK, but obviously shaken. Running the marathon has been a goal of hers for years, and while 26.2 miles was going to be tough, I imagine it's even tougher to be forced to quit 1.2 miles from your goal.

In smaller news, my workday was not one I'd describe as gratifying. To put it mildly. To put it more directly, I counted the days left until my severance arrives. More than once.

And then at the end of the day I had to buy dishwasher detergent. Which isn't a big deal, unless one is cranky.

Anyway. I knew I couldn't bring my work attitude home. My family doesn't deserve that. And after being in a downward spiral (and being around others who were spiraling even faster), I was sick of it.

So I called my mom. And I picked up a pizza (already planned, but as it happens the best idea ever). And I made myself a vodka grape juice (which is a thing if that's the only mixer you have on hand). Strapped baby into the booster and gave her bits of cheese from my pizza.

She bounced up and down with each bite and made a yummy sound. I laughed at her. Nick laughed at her. And she pretended to get the joke, so we were all laughing together. And I forgot what I ever did for entertainment before I had a baby. And then she took a bath and I vacuumed and then smelled her clean baby hair. This is why I do it. This is why the world goes on. This is why people set goals. Not just because of babies. Because there's good things in the world. Because the small, simple moments can be the best. And because if there wasn't bitter, there wouldn't be sweet.

Through My Daughter's Eyes

I was invited to a wedding where the mother of the bride sang a song she wrote for her daughter with the title above. Not being much of a singer, here's my attempt to capture life through my daughter's eyes. 

Hailey:
In your eyes, the moments between when you wake up and when we get you must be the saddest of your day - you haven't seen your parents in about 10 hours, your diaper is full, you're hungry, and you're in a cage. Hopefully that sadness is balanced by the moments when you are snuggled on our chests sleeping - you were under the weather this weekend, so there were many warm baby cuddles. You sacked out on top of me, I covered you with a blanket, and we slept - or you slept and I read or watched TV. Lovely moments for all.

In your eyes, having a full diaper is usually better than having it changed. But a diaper change does mean being cold and wet, being on your back, and being totally out of control. I'll never understand the allure of a poopy diaper, but I can see why you wouldn't like the change.

In your eyes, a bucket is amazing. It's a hat, it can hold toys, it can be upside-down or right-side up. It echoes when you stick your face in it and talk. You can bang on it and make noise, or you can bang it up and down to make a different noise. You love toys that you can pound or pound on - including utensils, blocks, books, whatever. It would be great if we could all take such pleasure in simple toys and manipulating objects. Your smile every time you get the exact same result is my miracle.

In your eyes, clothes are just objects that hang off you. Your hair (which is getting thicker) doesn't cause angst. Baths are fun (but Mommy's showers are torture). Your pants are getting too short -another reason I wish it was summer - but you don't care. Socks and hats are the best, because you can take them off. We could all learn to be less self-conscious and distracted by the material.

You're an amazing baby, Hailey. I love when you discover things (today you played with the light switch and watched the light go on and off for a long time). I love your snuggly body. I love you. And I love seeing the world through your eyes.

Scene It

It's cold. And windy. And otherwise sucks outsite. So plans are now accommodating inside time. But fortunately, Coyote Ugly is on TV. And if there's one thing I need, it's to see this movie for the upteenth time. And while I do that, I intend to make naan bread and soup, clean the kitchen and finish the laundry. That's the great thing about movies I have already seen - I can enjoy them without actually watching them, since I know exactly what will happen at any time. Same thing with familiar TV reruns (Friends is the show I know best and the one I'll never flip past, but there are others that will do in a pinch).

So, if you ever want to entertain me, here's how you do it:
Coyote Ugly
Dirty Dancing (I've seeen this movie more than any other)
Pretty Woman (really, most anything Julia Roberts)
10 Things I Hate About You (I will always miss Heath)
Center Stage

This is only a partial list. But if presented with any of these flicks, I can promise the channel won't change.

Mercenary

I remember learning of mercenaries in junior high - people who work for money, damn the consequences and job.

And, perhaps at the same time, or perhaps later or sooner, I learned about working a job you love - the job you would do even if they didn't pay you.

And, at this moment, my job is neither. I don't make enough to qualify as a money job. I don't love it enough to qualify as a passion job - if they quit paying me, I would quit showing up.

So ... what to do? I do make enough money to live (although, frankly, I would like more frills), and I like it OK. But do I find a job that pays better? Or a job that I truly love? And what job would that be?

Just Plain Folk

Today, I Facebook stalked an acquaintance from my hometown who has always been a bit of a snob. Now (it's probably been 10 years since we've exchanged a dozen words) he has crossed the line into douchy elitist. Not a huge shock (mostly fodder for amusing reading).

And today I made hummus without tahini (I prefer it that way, even though I don't think it technically qualifies as hummus anymore). I am listening to the Aladdin soundtrack. I spent yesterday cleaning bug corpses out of light fixtures. I am currently wearing sweatpants. My nightstand currently holds an old work by Anita Shreve. My husband farts. Venison hotdish is on the menu.

It's official - liberal though I am, no self-respecting elitist would have me. Which, I suppose, is the point.

Best of the Worst

I do my civic duty and vote. And I am responsible enough to be an informed voter and know which issues matter to me and which candidates best represent me. I read a lot, I talk to others, I listen.

But usually I wish there were more options. Or maybe not more, but better. I often end up voting something close to a straight party ticket, which I feel is a bit of a cop-out. Do I think that party is always best? Yes. No. Yes.

Best of the other options on the ballet? Yes.

100% right all the time? No. Not at all.

Lesser of the two evils (and I am aware that there are in fact more than two options, but realistically we live in a two-party country). Yes.

Still. I wish politics was less often taken over by politicians.

No One Mourns ...

I'm days away from a big birthday. I'm usually not one to spend a lot of time reflecting on my life, but indulge me.

Also, I am watching Glee (I'm giving it another season before I make it official, but so far it's in the running for Best Show Ever). On Sunday, my family and I are going to a touring production of Wicked. So my reflection is taking the form of musical theater. (Naturally.)

Now, in a musical there is some adversity ... although you'd never see a character in a musical spend an entire workday fighting off wracking sobs. Typically, one character comes to a realization about another character (or themself) ... and they use this realization to improve a situation. They learn they have skills or powers previously unknown. They assess the value of objects or people or a location.

Lessons are learned. The heroine belts out a solo. The people around her support her voice and her dance moves. She's a better person at the end. Usually she's in love and/or a stronger person.

My life ... not really like a musical. I'm messy. I can't sing. I don't learn the lesson the first time. No one else knows my spontaneous dance moves. But that's OK. Because you never know what happens after the musical ... I don't know what will happen in my 30s, but I know that I am in control. No lyricist, no choreographer, no actress. Me.


P.S. Rachel Berry just said she was born in 1994. Shit, I am old.

Community

Today in church the lesson was the good Samaritan and a sermon about being neighborly. Serving neighbors, who is your neighbor, etc.

And I was thinking similar thoughts last night. I haven't started volunteering regularly again since I moved. I'm sure there's a need, and that's something I should/want to do. And I will. But the question of neighbors and community is interesting to me right now. We live in the country, about equidistant from a number of towns. We church and do most of our business in St. Cloud. I work in Alexandria. Hubby works in Palmer (which is rather a small town with few services, etc.). Our kids (who are still theoretical) will likely go to school in Foley. Hubby's fam is around this area. Mine is scattered, though sister will be nearby in yet another town. So where is my community? Where do I set down roots? Making friends, establishing relationships, being a part of a community is an intentional decision. Where do I decide? How do I decide? I don't see geographic change in my future, so this is something that will take some thought.

'Til Now, I Always Got By On My Own

This weekend's plans are to keep things low-key (still recovering from last week). Husband (!) is spending the weekend at his parents' cabin to help them with some projects. I am going to watch chick flicks, ride my bike, perhaps write some thank you cards, and do very little else. Since he was coming to the town where I work, I had no carpool and some friends were going to enjoy the happy hour, we met in work town first. And I drove myself home and got here around 9:00.

And as I drove into the driveway, it occurred to me that I have never stayed here by myself. I have only lived here for a few months, and although I've spent the night away solo I've never spent it here solo. Odd. All of the sudden the house seems empty. And cold. (It's not really either.) And, of course, it's raining.

So tonight, TV is intentionally on something not remotely creepy (Friday night TV tends to be newsmagazine investigations into dead women). And hoping I encounter no mice, bats, other critters or broken pipes. I suspect things will be more normal in the morning.

Pretty

Saturday was the big day. More on that later (still processing some thoughts). But I do have one thought that is processed.

Lots of people said I looked pretty/good/beautiful. Which is not surprising or bad on your wedding day. But a lot of people also commented that they hadn't seen me wear make-up or glasses, with my hair done, or since I lost the weight.

And it's true that I usually rock glasses, no make-up and wash-and-go hair. Largely because I am lazy (and I can't read with my contacts). I figure there is no need to make myself look different than I naturally do.

But is there a reason to do so? Would my life be different if I just spent a few minutes to put on lip gloss (as my friend says)? If I shaved my legs every week would things be different for me? I've largely given up on my modeling career, but would other things be different? Work, men, friends, etc.? And would I like it better?

Guess we'll never know. I liked the wedding look, but it really was a one-time thing.