tired, tired, tired

Little G fell asleep in the car today around 7:20p.m. on the way back from the grocery store. I guess the secret is to work him up as much as possible during the day time and then I have more quality time for myself. I did feel a bit crabby today so it was a low key day, just G and me. I had fun walking with him through the neighborhood. He would run ahead and then run right back to me.

We walked about half a mile, I believe. He complained that he was so exhausted that he was 'going to have a heart attack!' I should have never taught him that phrase. But I remain convinced, too much fast food could kill him. And nothing like a little drama to ensure the kid gets it.

I've been such a slug today. A went to DC but I didn't have the energy. Haven't wanted to do much of anything. I don't recall being this tired with the 1st pregnancy. There's no way in hell I could complete a 4-mile hike now. But the nice thing is, my weight has been manageable. Looks like OJ really was the main culprit in my 1st pregnancy weight gain. I'm actually underweight now (I should've gained more than 6 lbs) but I've been taking supplements to compensate.

A and I passed on the house. Convenience-wise, it would've been nice to have the house but I'm happier saving, especially with us both taking family leave. I didn't want to be stressed over the bills.

Easter's next week and I'm dreading it a bit. Desi's family is running the show. I hate when my family's not in control. My mom drove A nuts over Thanksgiving (half the food was cold by the time she stopped fussing) but normally, even if my mom runs late, normally it's good food and a good time. Desi's family, we're looking at buffet style, which I hate and El is sounding like she expects us to be there in the evening (dinner is at 1:00p.m.) for the Gonzalez bonfire. Why couldn't they live in VA?

And of course, the politics: nothing sends me further into the right then sitting with a bunch of lefties. I'm usually the minority, straight down the middle. Go, Joe Lieberman! And the current government trend, banning transfats and banning smoking really galls me. Let the people kill themselves. Anyone too stupid to not understand that you eat in moderation and smoking kills, I don't give a crap about. I'd rather spend my tax dollars on something more meaningful. Like green measures or something.

Gino will be having an Easter egg hunt for the kids in the evening. I may try to go, pending A. The dynamic with the ex has changed, though who knows how long it'll last. It's nice though: Gino actually offered that we try to have inclusive holidays. A wasn't too thrilled but I'm hoping this means my ex is understanding that it's better to be civil. I'll take whatever olive branches are offered. And it'd be nice to have the family in one room, at one time. But we'll see.

My main concern is that G treats his brother well and we're not getting into the half-brother garbage. G and Jack (60% prediction it's a boy) will be brothers. Pity the person that treats them as less. But so far, people have been decent.

LA Style

If L.A. is all about style, please explain Quentin Tarantino. I think he's one of the coolest directors, but as an East Coast girl, I couldn't help but notice his white socks with black shoes (on the Tonight show). Yeah, stylish. Note that East Coast transplant Mark Wahlberg was impeccably dressed several weeks before. But nothing but respect for a guy that's bringing a movie about that glorifies cars and car chases. Movies should be events. Now if someone would only tell him his acting stinks.

Mooning baby and of course...

A and I were mooned recently by our growing baby. In 4-D, our little smart-alecky baby was in a good position for the Dr. to ascertain his length and estimate the sex (60% chance it's a boy) and sure enough, our little rug rat turned and gave the Dr. a money shot of his hind quarters. How funny that the arms and legs are still developing but the ass is very much intact. It was all I could do to avoid blurting out, "That's your son!" That smart aleck.

Happily, A and I have decided on a name: Jack Riley. It took some negotiations on the middle name. I liked William, after Billy Preston. We both liked Thelonius, though I would've shortened it verbally to Theo, since I'm lazy that way. And he liked Ernest, a family name, which is a good name, but I was quite worried about the ensuing acronym. No monograms for Jack Ernest. But there doesn't seem to be anything disagreeable about Jack Riley (other than the mooning incident). ;)

This weekend was rough, though. A and I ate at China Star and something has disagreed with me since. I've been more familiar with my toilet than I care to be and considering tomorrow's a work day, I'm trying to figure out if I can survive part of a workday and visit the Dr.'s or if I should just suck up not having sick leave and take LWOP.

Of course, China Star served up what tasted like the best Chinese food ever so A wants a return trip but I'm much more leery. Different stuff on the up side: placed an offer on the house that A and I want. A and I agreed on some new furniture without too much bloodshed. A was very sweet taking care of me. I admit, I don't expect guys to be stellar carekeepers because I'm a mean sexist pig that way. But he made sure I had enough Gatorade, bought me Kaopectate, consoled me without cracking the obvious jokes and even made his world famous guacamole.

So it was a good weekend with A. But the China Star remnants were a downer. And the ex tells me that G is expressing unhappiness over the pending move. The little seesaw continues to tip: Good to Bad. Bad to Good. But as always, one foot in front of the other. At least each day is an experience.

charlie brown again

I love the Peanuts comics and the original strips (that my Dad had a collection of) were a lot darker than Schulz's later strips. But sure enough, when a happy moment comes, it seems to be balanced by frustration. G is sick again. I'm dying. He's had 2 operations before 5 and now I'll be pushing the doctor to have him see a specialist again.

G had a hernia (I didn't know that kids get those) and he had his tonsils out after 2 solid years of his getting sick (strep) almost every month. And G was one of the quiet kids: his ears never hurt, he would never complain. I would notice his temperature spike at night.

And sure enough, G's temp is up again. It's harder to get a reliable temp (whether it's rectal or oral, I worry about hurting him in his sleep). I missed A's anniversary because G was sick then. But he seemed better today.

For all the flak I give my mom, she didn't mess around with doctors. Get results. But I'm getting tired of G's constant doctor visits. And I can't afford to stay home from work. I don't have the leave and even if I did, I've been home with G every month this year. That's why stay-at- home moms are lucky -- they never have to worry about being a good mom versus bad mom (that I'm aware of). Though I imagine the good parents worry nonetheless.

eureka!

We did it, we did it! A and I may have actually found THE house! I don't want to get too excited yet, but it's hard not to be happy. We found a house that A likes that was 1) built after 1961 (1989 - thank God), 2) has decent space for G, the new kid and A's office 3) has upper and lower decks (are you kidding) bar in the basement (espresso bar, please) - 2 acres - 2 frikkin acres and a gated area for a dog - too good to be true.

I had Joan place the call to the listing agent, so we can be competitive if another offer comes in. But thank God, I didn't think we'd find a place. Meanwhile, me being me, I managed to pick a stupid house (only 3 bedrooms - you'd think I could read) that brought us to the stupid neighborhood in the first place. But it's a nice neighborhood.

It even has the Cedeno seal of approval. Sarah and Raul are my local real estate experts (they are always quietly researching whether it's investments -- Everhart - or communities) and they found nothing to worry about with the new place. The worst thing I can say about it are the storm surge areas (drowning areas for curious kids). So G and the new kid will get a pretty stern lecture about trying to explore fenced off, no trespassing areas. But 2 acres for the kids to play on. I'm trying not to be too excited but it's hard.

For the difficulty I give him (and he's still here), A rocks. :)

Sometimes

Sometimes, you just can't win. I know this but it still rankles me. G had a rough night last night. He had a really bad cough and it makes me nuts -- every time he returns from upstate NY, he's coming down with something. His dad left him alone with his cousins for two days. Nice, big family. But what bums me the most is G was up at 3 in the morning and wanting to talk about the fights the ex and I had and how his dad pushed me a lot (fond memories).

It's really a struggle not to say anything bad. I just emphasize that I don't think his dad was taught how to fight fair, that you can't push people around. I work so hard to shower G with love, but when he recalls the the bad times, it makes me feel like the damage is done and I'm not doing enough.

And as if that didn't make this enough of a bad day, A drops it on me the other night that he's celebrating his sobriety anniversary...'it's not a big deal,' but would I be there. My first thought is of course, but when I tell him tonight that my folks can watch G for a couple of hours, it's not enough and I'm told not to bother. It's a really big deal for me to sacrifice time with G (huge, actually) but A's disappointed that I can't get a night off (despite the fact that I'm sacrificing a week's worth of time with G for vacation with A).

I hate being at fault and I hate that my best isn't good enough. And it just reinforces my belief that I have to choose between them. The balancing act just doesn't seem to be working lately. Gotta love the days when you can't win.

Wreck

I'm an absolute wreck today. Last time I was pregnant, at 7 months, I hiked 4 miles in Rickett's Glenn. Stupid, but I did it. Today, I can't walk a mile without feeling like I have to pee. Drove to check out A's favorite house, a brown, low slung house off Buckhall and PW Pkwy. From the road, it looks like a Frank Lloyd Wright style of house but when you're before it, I don't think Wright would have picked white brick with dark wood. It's an odd pairing.

Drove further and saw cemeteries on either side of the road and 2 farm style homes that I really liked (neither for sale, of course). Then saw an abandoned house that the woods were reclaiming. It was as I was turning around that my stomach started hurting. As I passed the cemetery again, I wanted to vomit. And I'm irritated b/c I should be past morning sickness. I've never gotten it.

And I'll admit, even though my 1st thought is for a healthy kid, I don't want a girl. I'm scared of girls. The wives' tales say they bring morning sickness (afternoon sickness, whatever) and I can't handle it.

I'm a gagger in the worst way. I couldn't even clean up after our family cocker spaniel without gagging. Even though girls are cute and smart and develop emotionally faster than boys, I won't know what to do with a girl. Boys, I have you all figured out for the time being. They're more fun to potty train (excluding the poop part) and I'm so amused by teaching them to aim.

Running the Marine Corps marathon (without training, in 2000) did almost nothing to prepare me for pregnancy. I'm still a big wuss. For all the fault I find with my mom, she always babied me and El when we were sick. I want to be babied.

Homebody

I'm being really bad today. It's like And I have switched today -- normally he's the one that's late to rise and I can't help getting up early. But here I am putzing around the house and he's already out.

A didn't like some restaurant/bar in Austin and it made me laugh, he didn't like the looks of the patrons with their tattoos and piercings. I love tattoos. Used to hate 'em, but now I love 'em. If they're done well, they are works of art.

I have difficulty explaining my tattoo. I stumble and stutter and don't like to say much, other than it's Mandarin Chinese. Sometimes I like to make up stupid stuff, like it says 'Made in Hong Kong' or something. But I chose my tattoo because of my divorce. I felt marked, different. My faith was shaken. So I chose the character for Love, because it reminded me to have faith. And I chose the most painful place to get a tattoo, above the wrist, because you're hitting bones. It hurt quite a bit.

But my tattoo reminds me not to be a coward (which I am anyways). And I like the reminder of faith. I remain awestruck of people who aren't afraid of Darkness. And I wonder if they've truly witnessed it. I can't ever embrace someone's dark side. I can listen, I can understand their frustration but I'll never be an enabler. Everyone has to help themselves, tough love.

I need Light, desperately. I'm the electric company's best friend, since I like most house lights burning. Funny but true. I am emotionally immature but I'm happy enough. Too scared to see horror movies. Writers have said that Stephen King has more than 14 locks on some of his doors. With the stuff he's written, no wonder, looking at the monsters he's created.

But tattoos, if people put thought into them, I think they're awesome. I like people that make statements. Even if it has to be a naked hula girl: http://www.markbode.com/site/tat_show/tshow42.html; http://www.metal-tiger.com/Wu_Tang_PCA/tattoo.html. I still haven't seen 'Miami ink.' I'm long overdue.

Why I like Being Catholic

People that revile Catholicism are focusing on the wrong things. They believe that we are pagans, because of all the saints that people can refer to in times of need: http://www.catholic.org/saints/faq.php. They focus on the molestation cases (which is very sad and the Catholic Church did a shoddy job of addressing). They mistakenly believe that we worship the Pope and they despise the hierarchy.

I like being Catholic because I do like the celebration of life's stages: when you're in 2nd grade, the Church acknowledges that you're growing, becoming more mature and you're officially welcomed to the road to adulthood -- you're told about the differences between right and wrong and the responsibility you have to make the right choices. You're taught the differences between mortal and venial sins (killing someone versus hating your sibling). When you are 14, you're told that it's time to make a choice, is Catholicism really right for you. If your priest is good, he'll tell you that Catholicism may not be the right religion for you. And I love the exploration that they encourage, the embracement of Darwin. Having survived Catholic school, I can honestly say that the Catholics I encountered were intellectuals, moderates that probably would not be embraced by Rome.

But I love being Catholic because no other religion celebrates the Virgin Mary. No other religion appears to acknowledge that Jesus and Mary were black (as the the Black Virgin and its replicas suggest -- though Mel Gibson didn't either). And while I don't like all the Church's positions (birth control, abortion), I like its prayers. I like the Roman soldier's prayer 'Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.' There's no greater statement of faith.

And I like the Church's emphasis on self-examination. It's not enough to say, you're baptized and you're going to Heaven. The truth to me, is, are you living a good life? Are you treating people well? Yourself? Are you making your best effort? No matter what church I go to, I'll always be Catholic in my heart.

I almost converted to Judasim. I liked the Reformer synagogues. But I couldn't in the end. Unitarian seemed like a nice religion but I don't understand its refusal to acknowledge the Trinity (Father, Son and Holy Spirit). Lutheran is probably the closest religion that I can embrace, aside from Catholicism since its emphasis is on simple worship and they still celebrate Communion.

Susy is probably the best person to defend Catholicism. She grew up without religion (her mom was Buddhist, her dad agnostic) and she converted as an adult. Some things about the Catholic Church are not defensible (its treatment of homosexuals and the molestation cases). But, on an individual level, I like the homilies each week: the priests's questions: are we doing our best. What's better? And besides, I like a religion that celebrates procreation, though I'm sure my former nuns would frown at the statement. There should be no shame in sex. It's one of God's greatest gifts.

I miss the folk group masses: nothing but guitars and simple singing. St.Mary's in Old Town will always be my favorite church. Over 200 years old and it's still packed every Sunday. Father Krempa always found ways to make you think and Father Klein always made us laugh, interjecting the Green Bay Packers into his sermons. I actually don't see much difference between the Catholic ceremonies and AA. The length of the meetings are the same and the speakers vary. Even the prayers are the same and I wouldn't be surprised if the attempts for atonement (I don't know which step it is) was pulled straight from the Catholic's need for penance.

As for confession, you're not asking the priest to forgive you. The priest is just a witness, a sounding board. And for me, anyways, it's more satisfying to get a 2nd opinion, without paying an arm and a leg.

Sunday morning - need more coffee

Sunday morning after the time change and I'm bone tired. I'm starting my 1st cup of coffee but it doesn't seem to be helping. AJ and Bonnie are getting new furniture across the street. Funny, I thought in my new neighborhood that there wouldn't be a lot of transience, but it's worse than the apartments I used to live in: people moving in and out, lots of renters. And some folks that were bitter about leaving let their stupid dog poop all over everyone's lawn. I keep meaning to yell at Manassas Park to put up fine signs, but I've been bad about it.

I love my place though. Even though it's only a 1-car (I didn't think I'd have to worry about anyone else - who knew), I have the 2-story living room (though it's my family room area; my LR couch is too big), I have the blue granite counters, spiced maple cabinets with 1-glass pane. Ceramic tile in the kitchen and main floor bathroom. Double-sink vanity and jacuzzi in the master. I love this place. And I'm slowly cleaning up my clutter.

My clutter is crazy but it comforts me. It's a direct reflection of my state of mind: if I don't have something to manage, some form of chaos, then I'm uncomfortable. Though I cringe to see pack rats. I have to work to keep my place decent, but I'm not like the Zodiac writer.

Bought an orchid yesterday (my favorite). This one is a blend (like me -- I'm such a dweeb) -- a cream color with striated purple. It sits next to my Chinese soldier and wise man (my only nod to being Asian).

Asian culture makes me nuts. I'm not sure there's any other ethnicity filled with such self-hatred. Reading about the operations that some Asian women underwent made me want to puke: getting their eyes widened -- it's sick. My mom and aunt's insistence that I look like Nicolette Sheridan -- wtf? Ugh, no. I would like to pass some sense of heritage down to G and baby W, but what do I tell them? G does look more Filipino than I do (his eyes). And there's always the wonderful issue that if you mention the Philippines to a military guy, chances are his immediate experience is with cheap prostitutes that you could buy for less than a dollar. Yeah, I need to work out the bitterness issue, but facts are facts.

Spike Lee will always be my hero. I am a little disappointed that he backpededaled a little bit from his comments about interracial couples (and I know A would yell at me), but I really get irritated by interracial couples that pretend that race doesn't matter. It matters all the time!

After being stalked by people insisting that I tell them, 'where I'm from' I really fault my parents for not having the foresight to talk to me about race. Any disagreement that I have with my mom has racial overtones and we've already agreed that I would've had my tongue cut out if I were in the Phillipines for my disrespect (long live America). Dominican Republic, that felt like home because everyone's blended. But I was eager to leave within a week after seeing how chauvinistic it is.

It's a fight, to be whole, to be happy. My friend Patrice and I used to fight about race all the time. She started dating drug dealers because it was too hard to find a good black man. I know her parents would have died, with her mom being a judge and her dad being an LTC. Hopefully, she's had better success. She used to tell me that she was black first. But I don't have that identity. West Coast Filipinos would disavow me, they hate white people so much. And I have little stomach to defend myself or my mom's decisions.

So I'm just me, a little jumble. But I've made it this far, no sense stopping now.

Bad divorces / New Homes

While my divorce was pretty rough, at least I didn't have to go through this: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17545638/?GT1=9145 .
Some guy sawing his house in half is extreme. But, life goes on.

So the new house hunt is getting interesting. A seems fond of a house that was built in '61. It is a beautiful house, 4 bedroom, 3.5 bath but it's not selling: there's no master bath, minimal closet space. And I'm unhappy that the laundry facilities are in the garage and I'm concerned that our cars will be a tight fit. A laughed, but SUVs weren't made in the 60's. I could see my Subaru would be a tight fit, I can't imagine his Ford making it into the garage without a ding. But worst of all, there's not much space for a play area, not much of a rec room. And I don't want to own a place that we'd have trouble selling.

Went house hunting today with Erin and saw the sickest house re: space: a 5-bedroom, 4.5 bath that is owned by a graphic designer. Her color choice was impeccable and she went nuts with custom options. There was plenty of office space and play space (the kids' loft was AMAZING) and the master bedroom and sitting area were INSANE, bigger than what I had before. For space, that house is what I want. It's down the street from a community swimming pool and basketball courts. Drawbacks are: it's in a new community, which I know A hates and it's not an ideal place to commute from since it's off 95, and I haven't clocked its distance from 66 and 28. I don't even know the schools in that area. But it's a corner lot and did I mention the interior space? It's also off a peninsula, so you can walk to the water/marina and a state park: http://www.newhomesource.com/search/community_detail.aspx?refer=DMR302&cid=29554 .

The house that I think A and I can FINALLY agree on is off Kahn's Rd. It's in the ideal school district and it's on 2 acres, mostly wooded. The interior has a kitchen that's quite big (electric stoves, natch and a Corian counter, ick) but the pine floors are custom and make the house. Pine floors for the main level and a gorgeous dining nook in the kitchen. Nice screened porch. Drawbacks are red neck touches like an old above ground tank of some sort (not sure what it was) and a chain link fence but the fence can be removed and the tank can be hidden with landscaping. Assuming A can have his office upstairs, G and baby W can have their play area downstairs. There's also a shed that looks like it could be turned into a playhouse.

The graphic designer house I like a lot too, but I need to learn more about the schools and I don't know that A would be sold on the amenities when the commute could be an issue. And I know his love for new communities. But the 2 acre-house, so nice!

I also saw homes off Bren Forest which is the best commute location in the Davis Ford area. Within 5 minutes of PW Pkwy and right off the Davis Ford corridor, the homes are spaced apart on several acres. The 1st house was a white colonial that also had a lot of space. A might like the pool though I laughed when I saw it: above ground. I spent $20K blocking out a former neighbor's above ground pool, so the irony would be a bit thick for me. But the owner built a multi-level deck around it, so that was cool. The home owner apparently did drugs when it came to picking colors. Purple everywhere, on the walls, in the drapes. It's like Barney puked everywhere. Green carpets, ugh. Light fixtures were horribly tacky. But I liked the granite countertops and the space was nice.

It'll be interesting to see what A likes. I do hope it's the 2-acre house. The white colonial wouldn't be bad either. The graphic designer house...well...that's a toughy. But I love space. The schools, though. My former house would've been 6K sq ft, fully finished. My ex finished the basement for his friend, 2 bachelors from upstate NY (the injustice). I'll always dream of the graphic designer house (but my old house had a better lot, 2 acres with mature trees). I think A and I can do quite nicely in the new 2-acre house. Even if the kitchen has Corian counters.

still pregnant

Still pregnant and I still have the eye crud. And headaches. Cruel, vicious headaches that make me visualize someone pickaxing into my brain. Fun stuff.

A's in Austin and G's in upstate NY. I was supposed to do girl's night but I feel too rotten. So I'm wanting to get to bed but procrastinating, as usual.

Received unsolicited compliments today from our resident Marine. He liked my ski pants (dorky to wear off the slopes, but they're comfy) and a surprising, "You're not fat." From Paul, it's like wine and roses. I warned everyone that it would look like I'd have triplets, so maybe he was disappointed that I'm not there yet.

I do hate maternity clothes. It's hard to find anything decent. I can't imagine A's opinion on maternity clothes. They probably don't exist in LA. Everyone must have their own personal shopper.

Susy consoles me and reminds me that she gained the same amount of weight, but I swear I looked 10x bigger than she did. But, 6 more months to go. I'm curious to see if it's a boy or girl. We've had one prediction that it'd be a girl, courtesy of Joan, my favorite realtor (she has PERSONality). I think A should start a pool. No clue what the winner would get though. Free web services (ha).

pregnancy stuff

I want my Asian genes to kick in so my belly would be no bigger than a basketball. It's unfair that my dad's genes had to kick in. I really hoped, since I've kept the weight down, that the belly would be smaller. No such luck.

Margie says that my skin looks radiant. Meanwhile, I managed to get pink eye. This has been an entertaining pregnancy thus far.

I can't complain though....Ever since Robert got hit by that bus, I really can't complain, since I know that things could always be worse. When pain happens, it's like God wants to check your breaking point, based on what I see. Grace's mom and father-in-law hardly a year apart in their goodbyes, plus a cousin, 2 deaths around the holidays. Robert, his miraculous recovery, but the pain that he and Donna share regarding the interruption of their lives.

It makes me feel like A and I are stealing our happiness. As if it's not earned. But A has his ghosts and I have mine and we all deserve happiness.

Anyway, I am a roly poly. Hopefully, still loveable. Though I'm guilty of wishing binge eating upon skinny, skinny women that I see. Maybe they don't have to work and their husbands work full-time and they perform hours' worth of cardio. I crave sushi more than anything and wish I could smoke again. September, September, can't wait for September.