Wednesday, February 26, 2014

a letter for my son


You're not quite two yet, but already I can see much of the person you are going to be.

You're funny - you laugh loudly and often, you dance and stomp wildly and you love making me and your daddy laugh.

You're sensitive - you notice emotions in your books and point them out with concern. Yesterday when I was crying, you laid your head on me and rubbed my arm.

You're smart - you can put together and interlocking puzzle by yourself, you try to count to ten and you know some of your ABCs.

You have a strong conscience. You already have a finely-tuned internal compass and you know whether your choices were good ones. You will correct your mistake humbly.

You are stubborn - you know what you want and have little patience most days. It's endearing to me because it's so much like your mother.

I am so proud of you already. I'm proud to be your mama. And I'm excited to see everything else that you become as the years go on and you grow. I'm excited to see you as a big brother and playing sports and in school. I'm excited to see the choices you make and the friends you have and the hobbies you love. I'm excited to see all that is yet to come in the little man I feel I already know so much about. You are the sparkle in my eye, now and forever.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

holden's room

Holden's room is finished! It was no easy feat.
Here are the before and after photos.

 I picked the brightest red known to mankind and it took four coats to even out the brush strokes.
 I'm pretty proud of the end result, although the color is going to scare the beezezus out of a baby.

Saturday, February 22, 2014


I'm probably pretty behind the times reading this, not keeping up on social media like the rest of the world, but being a month away from converting from a working mother to a stay-at-home one, I really enjoyed this:

Working mother or stay-at-home one: neither is easy. Being a mom is hard work either way. But either way, you're doing something wonderful for your child. This is so well put.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

flakes and piles

When it snows around here, it ends up looking like this:

But before this, I looked up into the sky and watched it coming down in fluffy flakes one beautiful piece at a time. They were dancing in the streetlights, playing in their fall. They weren't yet trampled and shoved into filthy piles. It was enchanting.

And I thought of us. And how we were once playful and full of life and enchanting. Before we were tainted by the filthy world around us; the world that we had tried so hard to cover with a fresh and clean new sheen. Our intentions were good. And one day we will melt, and then we will rinse the filth that has been left. Before we only tried to cover it. Next time, we will wash it all away. 

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Valentine's Day

Every Valentine's Day, Steve sends flowers me flowers at work.

This year, I'm as big as a whale and moody enough to be in an asylum. On Thursday night, I decided I would leave work early on Friday to come home and finish painting Holden's room. Steve said, "uh oh" and when I asked him what he meant he said "never mind, it might still work out." After some proding, I found out that he had ordered flowers to be sent to me at work.

I blew up. Lost it. "Why would you send me flowers? I'm a temp! I have to walk two blocks to my car! What a waste of money!" Steve quickly did damage control and called the florist and got my flowers rerouted to our house.

I stewed. Fucking flowers for fucking Valentine's Day. The nerve! I was a real bitch about the whole thing. Honestly, if I could separate myself from myself enough to think objectively, I would wonder why anyone did anyone nice for me ever. Why bother? I'm an ungrateful asshole.

On Friday afternoon, I was painting Holden's room when the florist's delivery van pulled up. I accepted the flowers and when I read the sweet note Steve had written I teared up. I don't deserve someone like him. He is a much better person than I am. And I guess I really do like to get flowers on Valentine's day. It's sweet and thoughtful and reminds me that love makes us all better people.

Monday, February 17, 2014


When I'm pregnant, all bets are off and I will eat Chinese food. On Saturday, I picked up our dinner from a real classy joint between Old Country Buffet and ShopKo. Here is their front window:

I just love the asterisk.

No MSG - when MSG stands for Madison Square Garden's stock rather than Monosodium glutamate.
No MSG - when "no" means "plenty of"

And I know there are cat and/or dog jokes to be made here, too. I'm just not that witty tonight.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Beached whale

Six weeks of pregnancy left. That feels like a lifetime from now. I'm not necessarily dying to go through the pain of childbirth, but being not pregnant sounds excellent right now. I am nearing the 200 lbs mark. I never knew how uncomfortable being large was. And now, I know painfully well. It is terrible. Now let me preface this by saying this is all my own fault. I'm not blaming pregnancy for my largeness. It is definitely a factor, but I certainly didn't take any measures to avoid the snowball affect.

This pregnancy, I have eaten at least 50 peanut buster parfaits from Dairy Queen. I used to be a rather active person, but this time around I can count on one hand the times I've worked out. I lead a very inactive life - the height of my cardio being walking up the stairs or bending down to tie my shoes. And now my body is penalizing me for treating it like a stationary garbage truck.

I feel lethargic all the time. For some reason, not working out makes you more exhausted than if you had. Which doesn't make sense because it seems like all your energy should be still inside your body for you. Eating shit all the time doesn't help, that's for sure. My body is revolting - it doesn't want me to get off the couch or bend down or climb stairs. It just wants to stay put and not move. And because I'm so tired, I don't want to fight it.

I know what I need - a healthy diet, plenty of water, and light exercise to ease my way back into normal activity. But I have six weeks of pregnancy left. What's the use of starting now? No one likes a quitter. But seriously, after Holden is born, I'm keeping a food journal, I'm working out, and I'm easing up on the LeMars donuts and blended coffees. This is no way to live. I now know what people on the Biggest Loser meant when they said they wanted to be able to run after their kids. I can't even do that anymore!

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Being personal

It's no secret that I have a real potty mouth. Sure, if you just read my blog and don't know me in person, it's not THAT terrible. But in person, I pepper my language with colorful words quite frequently. For affect, you know. It's not that I don't know any other words to use, it just packs more of a punch and words are my best way of expressing myself.

But one frontier I won't cross is using the R-word. Last year, Ann Coulter used it in a tweet referring to the President. And she defended herself against critics after the public backlash.

I used to babysit a boy with down's syndrome and a very good friend of mine has a daughter with down's syndrome. I cringe anytime I hear anyone use that as a derogatory term referring to anyone that is not disabled. I know many times it's just a part of their vernacular and isn't meant the way it sounds, but that punch is a bit too much for me. Maybe nothing is important until we have a personal connection.

Joe Fox: It wasn't... personal.
Kathleen Kelly: What is that supposed to mean? I am so sick of that. All that means is that it wasn't personal to you. But it was personal to me. It's *personal* to a lot of people. And what's so wrong with being personal, anyway? 

Joe Fox: Uh, nothing. 
Kathleen Kelly: Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal.

~"You've Got Mail"