Parenting is so much easier when you aren't outnumbered

My mom has been off work all week (Spring Break for the school she works at) so she's been hanging out with me and the kiddos. I have to say, if you have the means to have two adults to every child in your care, go for it. And if one of those adults just happens to be your child's very favorite-est person, all that much better. Good heavens, it's easier to be patient and kind to a two-year-old when you're well rested and not the only person in charge of paying attention to him or her.

Warren is at the stage where he needs to talk about things...a lot. We repeat the same words, sentences, stories over and over and over again. And he's not satisfied to just say it, he wants me to pay close attention, agree with him and also share his enthusiasm. Which is cute the first 72 times you've talked about the orange truck down the street. But that 73rd time it starts to grate on your nerves.

Lennox figured out smiling this week. And cooing. I have a theory about this. I think babies know exactly how far they can push you before you lose it entirely. So, after 5 weeks of sleep deprivaation, jumping to attention at the slightest hint of a cry, and countless hours giving over your body to nourish the little thing, you might be wondering why the hell you are doing this. So, the kid takes pity on you and gives you a little smile and some gurgling noises and it restores your soul. Evolution at work, people. If babies weren't so cute, we'd all leave them on the hospital doorstep.

That said, I'm not complaining. Lennox is a really good baby. Eats well, sleeps well, and is generally happy to go with the flow. Which is nice, since Warren is very intent on his own agenda these days. After almost 6 weeks home with him, I think we're getting to a good place. There are a lot of changes around here, with a lot of new rules and happenings. The first few weeks were not so good. But I think Warren and I have figured out how to work with each other, and that when we are both patient and kind, we have much more fun.

Of course, this is all subject to change at the drop of a hat. So, don't quote me on this when I'm back here railing about my horrible snot-face of a kid.

And after a month of missing Xtian, in a *ahem* physical manner, we're back in action. I've found it's much easier to be nice to Xtian when we're both...relaxed. After a month on the "injured reserve list" I feel just pissy and totally disconnected from my partner. So, let's just say my entire household should be glad I got the all-clear from my doctor.

So, with that over-share, calling it a night. Remind me to tell you how I lost my child at a mall. Parent of the Year material right here.

Bullet Points: Solutions for the lazy

• My family is very sneaky and actually managed to get a SURPRISE PARTY together for me!


• My Big Sister from Philadelphia even made it out!
• While Playing a board game, my poor, dear husband mimed taking a shit. In front of my parents. That's what we like to call "commitment to the cause."


• Consequently, I’m pretty familied out


• Mean Russian Lady asked me if I’m pregnant today. I answered, “No, just fat, apparently.” Just excellent.


• Xtian is currently hanging out with my dad and sister, snowboarding while I’m wasting away at work.


• All during the last 4 days while family was here and the next couple days while Xtian is gone, has been my prime/possible ovulation time. This shit sucks.

Happy Birthday April, you look younger than me by at least a decade.
I’m going home and snuggling with Sarah while eating a pizza.

We want the funk...

I’m feeling pretty shitty about myself these days. I don’t even really like my own personality these days. I feel like mostly people put up with me, despite myself.

I’ve been trying to find some semi-formal wear for my company’s awards dinner/dance all night party. Here’s the problem, I hate how everything looks on me, because I hate how I look. Of course that dress won’t make me look like a curvy babe. I’m NOT a curvy babe, I’m an overweight, carries-all-her-chub-on-her-gut, rather mannish looking hag. At least that’s how I’m feeling these days.
And no, please don’t anyone tell me differently. I don’t care what other people will say to be nice; I’m feeling like everything about me sucks.



Sorry for the bummer. I’m sure I’ll be back with some vagina/minor annoyance stories soon. Just not today.


Oh wait, I do have one random, TMI story for you. Guess what I was doing this weekend while two of my siblings were at my house. Guess!

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Ovulating.

Yeah, nothing like trying to conceive while my sister is in the next room. Fuck. I’m never getting knocked up. (See again, I’m clearly useless in every way. )

Moping is fun. You try it.

It’s official. I’m so obnoxiously sensitive to weather changes; I kind of want to roll my eyes at myself. In the same way I roll my eyes at people who are annoyingly sensitive to temperature (“It’s so hot, I’m feeling ill” at 85 degrees, and “brr, I’m freezing cold!” at 68 degrees).
I know I tend to feel down during the winter, hell, we all do. But today is just too ridiculous. Overnight the clouds blew in, and I feel so unexplainably melancholy. And, of course all the music I hear today is the sad sap that just forces you to WALLOW in your funk. Nothing has changed from yesterday to today, except the weather. Clouds and rain.

Is this why I was always so unhappy in Milwaukee? Am I just so moronically susceptible to weather? (Milwaukee is only comfortable about 2 weeks a year. The other 50 weeks are either snowing/blistering cold or hot, humid and cloudy. Just the worst weather ever). Or was my unhappiness due to my life sucking in Milwaukee, poor choices in friends, lovers and jobs? Oh fuck it, I’m done.

Yeah, my apologies for the loopy rantings yesterday. Clearly, prescription meds and writing should never be combined. And yet, here I am, doing it again. Or maybe it’s the fact that people with injured backs are not able to *ahem* partake in activities they generally enjoy. If you catch my drift? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more.

Whatever. Let’s move along.

I’m in a creativity slump at work. It has a lot to do with having just finished a project in which my creative input was null, and starting a new project with even less room for any creativity. It’s hard to muster any enthusiasm for shit like this.


Oh, and all the talk on left radio this morning (as reported by my husband, who adorably calls to relay what people on the radio are saying. Cute, but odd, right?) is all about the draft. And the possibility of reinstating it. So, if I and every male related to me is suddenly nowhere to be found, you’ll know what’s up.
I tend to leave politics out of this thing, but allow me to say this: there is no way to “win in Iraq.” The reason for this, is the same as it was for Vietnam: We have no demonstrable goal. So, if we have no demonstrable goal, how will we know when we’re done? It’s impossible to win without a clear definition of what “winning” means. In WWII, it was simple, defeat the Axis powers, and stop the routine genocide. (Overly simplified, yes, but fuck it.) We’re not fighting a real enemy in Iraq. “Terrorists?” That’s the best we can come up with? Ok, who are they, where are they, what’s the difference between a terrorist and an Iraq citizen who is tired of living in a war zone? Fuck it.
I’m about done on that stretch.

Ok, I’m going to go mope around until I can ostensibly go home.

Blurbs, because I suck.

Yesterday morning, I noticed my cell phone wasn’t working properly. Anytime I tried to make a call, I got a “Service Unavailable” message. I was locked in a training room all day yesterday, so didn’t think much about it.
Yesterday evening, I tried to make another call, and had the same result. So, I called my cell company, and was informed that they were having service issues in my area (no, I don’t mean my AREA, perv). They had no explanation as to why Xtian’s phone (which resides in the same house, is on the same account etc) is not having any problems. And, when the delightfully helpful customer service guy looked into matter further, he found this little nugget of happiness:

Estimated date for fixing problem: October 31.

Yeah, so 20 days sans cell phone is not really a big deal. I mean, I went for more than 24 years without one, right? Yeah, except I spent half of my afternoon driving around suburban HELL looking for a non-existent street sign, with no way to call anyone for help. So, either my phone better get fixed, or Mapquest better step it up. Either way.

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And, in another story where half the people (yes all 2 of you) will be screaming “TOO MUCH INFORMATION!!!!” at the end, I present to you: How to Kill the Mood with One Sentence!

Last night the husband and I were getting around to the “doing it,” if you will. Before any actual “doing it” had happened, but after “launch sequence” had been initiated, a random thought occurred to me. Being the mostly-ridiculous person that I am, I blurted that thought out. What thought could dampen the mood for a couple of twenty-something newlyweds?
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“What did you mother want when she called earlier?”

Nice job Coley. We tried to pretend I hadn’t said anything, but man, did that sentence hang over us for the duration.



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And just like that, I’m out of here.