M's Survival Guide or How to Feel Better About You

Moving to Alexandria...

2008-05-22T05:11:00.000-07:00

Moving to Alexandria and the current house is a complete, unmitigated wreck. The ideal is that we would box things up and it would be orderly and neat but everything's a mess. Andrew's office is packed but the crawl space behind his office isn't and it's a jumble we have to sort through. The boxes downstairs are in my way and it's a hassle moving around them to clean dishes or do laundry and it's become a clothes graveyard, things strewn haphazardly. I care but I don't care. I don't like it but I also don't want to deal with it. Neither does Andrew so we agree to disagree, since neither one wants to deal with the mess. Gino wanted G to stay over last night [my off week] and I had to say no as G's room has his closet contents waiting on the bed, waiting to be transported to the new house. There is no space for anything...as we wait, wait, wait to move to the new house. I hate moving.

The Tooth Fairy!

2008-03-11T18:53:00.000-07:00

G lost his first tooth, 6 years old and counting! One of my ex's friends made G a really cool certificate from the tooth fairy, very cool. And poor G promptly lost the tooth so he couldn't put it under a pillow. But it all works out in the end. Curious what the average going rate is for teeth. My ex swears that some mutual friends gave their kids $20 for the first few teeth. Yeah...not me! My ex gave $3 in change. That's not bad. My son requested a quarter. How's that for nostalgia?

As for baby Jack, his teeth are coming in. One losing, one gaining, go fig[ure]. Haven't blogged in the longest time [see Jack's Blog] but holidays and being sick. Holidays, rush, rush, buy, buy. Christmas in CA, nice but nicer to make it back to the homestead. Jan - Feb, both boys alternate being sick. And to think I complained about being a spit rag. 2008 has been the Year of Poop. Hello, rotavirus for both boys, though thankfully not at once.

Already, I want Jack to be 4. The colic is InSanity, in the worst way. Given, he doesn't scream 3 hours on end but the fussy feedings are brutal. All at night, of course.

Ulcer back, in spades. Ugh! That is my new name, Ulcer Girl. Now if I could just find the right meds, life would be grand.

Walking spit rag

2007-11-19T21:35:00.000-08:00

Ha. 12:35 a.m. November 20 and it's my birthday. Look at me...as a parent of a 2-month-old, I am now a walking spit rag. Burp the baby and oh look, projectile vomit on me and the couch. Lovely. Thankfully, my 5-year-old has already gone through his bedtime routine so I don't have to hear his amusement, although I get a kick out of his giggles.

Not sure what to say about 37. The spouse joked about my being 18 but I'm comfortable enough to tout my true age. My ex tried telling G that I was 41 [thanks]. I'm still packing the extra pregnancy weight, though I'm relieved it's 20 versus 30 pounds. Still a bit, but it's not as bad as it could be.

The only downer is it's been harder finding time to work out. The gym doesn't seem to have child care on the weekends or evenings [wtf] so that means I have to bug the spouse. Not sure how well that will go over. But I have to start soon or I won't lose the weight.

And the pressure to lose weight. You don't feel as good, you hate the clothes that don't fit. And it's hard to be a good sport when the spouse makes remarks. Even if lovehandles were cute, they're not fun. And of course, getting up an extra hour early to hit the gym at work, during the week, isn't going to happen.

I need the NordicTrek back. It looked stupid but 12 minutes a day, gradually moving to 30 minutes a day and I was in decent shape. I miss that stupid thing.

And in some ways, I miss dating and life before baby. It's harder having time for yourself. Spouse has meetings that have to be attended. I don't have that luxury. But, kids grow up so fast, I do want to be able to say that I did my best to be a good parent. Though wouldn't it be cool if I had more frequent breaks to go shopping, see the girls, get my pedis. I'm not digging being the walking spit rag. Maybe that's what 37 is. But I hear turning 40 is better.

where's the fun and who gets fixed?

2007-10-27T15:35:00.000-07:00

To say I'm fagg** [in the British sense] is an understatement. Physically, I've neglected my ulcer management, taking care of the newborn and my esteem is in the sub-basement levels of an elevator shaft. No sleep, no reliable family to count on, other than the parents, who bring their baggage when they babysit and I have minimal relief on the child rearing front. Baby Jack is beautiful but when the spouse gets on my case [as my clutter seeps through the house], it's hard to really be happy and the stress compounds each day. Work will be such a vacation for me.

Weather was beautiful today at least though I didn't take Jack for a walk. Had a wild fantasy about baking Halloween cupcakes for tonight and waffles for tomorrow's breakfast but am frittering the little energy I have on laundry and mail.

Spouse is out and I can't help wondering what would happen if I jumped ship, if he'd be Mr. Mom. I wouldn't but the thought is amusing for a minute or two. Most of my friends have the 'I need 2 daytimer schedules' as they keep up with their kids and their extended family so it's harder for me to plan things. Spouse seems to think I like being a recluse. No Howard Hughes here. But until the ulcer is back down, not really in shape to go out anyway.

It is official: no kids after this. But we have yet to discussed who gets 'fixed.'

on kids

2007-09-29T20:38:00.000-07:00

The baby pooped on me today. I was in a bit of shock. I had watched the baby poop three times, I was so sure I'd be in the clear to bring him, commando style to the bath. After 3 poops, there shouldn't have been anything left in reserve. But oh no. 1 step short of the stairs, the baby hits me in the hand and shirt with that yellow, runny poop. You gotta live for moments like these....

The husband thinks my older son stresses me but he has it backwards. Older son is a piece of cake. He's fun now. You talk to him and it's crazy cool to see the things that a 5-year-old can come up with. Plus he's potty trained [though nights are still hard] and can entertain himself in the mornings versus my nusing the baby, changing the baby and trying to time my shower between feedings, so I can feel human.

I shall always be curious to see how the two boys turn out. Older son does well in both reading and math, which is such a relief to his dad and me. He's a ham but he's bookish enough to listen to the teacher. Baby is too young to evaluate but my prediction is he's the serious one. He's not a contented baby the way his brother was and he is a lot more fitful. And it's interesting that he chooses to sleep with one eye open. One of the nurses said our baby had an old soul. Interesting, that.

Googling pregnancy gripes

2007-09-08T00:45:00.000-07:00

I tried googling pregnancy gripes and was surprised that morning sickness and back pain came up. Nothing came up along the lines of pregnant woman loses sanity during weeks 37-40, which was a letdown since that's where I'm at. Da belly is so painfully big now that I truly require the audible safety beeps that you hear on the back of dump trucks, when I'm attempting to walk [da belly is so biiig and scary]...I've lost any illusion of grace that I ever had and my husband has to help pull me out of bed. And my feet easily resemble the feet of the Botero sculptures, if I'm foolish enough to sit without elevating my feet.

Even with 2 weeks left, it doesn't feel like I can make it. All this time, so close and yet so far. I may wind up buying the rose hips to try and accelerate things. Baby Jack is still moving quite a bit. I can't imagine he's still happy with the cramped quarters. Who knows? Maybe folks could film a new reality show: Pregnancy in the Final Weeks. Bet it would make Bridezilla look tame. Will the couples be able to handle these hormonal times? Where's the Valium when I need it?

howdoyalikethat

2007-08-30T19:43:00.000-07:00

Pregnancy, week 37. Mood, beyond crabby. Stuggling to be nice...impossible without Starbucks 1st thing. Dropped f-bomb in front of kid. Have done it before in traffic but it's been easier to brush off. Kid repeated it and I had to explain that he can't say that without getting in a whole lot of trouble. Niiice. Kid admonished me, 'Just say things are stupid, Mommy.'

Couldn't complain too much at work, though. Colleagues threw me a baby shower: very cool. Margie and Kim pull through again. There isn't a thing Margie hasn't done for me. Hand-sewn clothes for me, baked me mole. It's like I'm one of her own. I want to be Margie when I grow up. I can't sew though. Overall, we have more clothes for Jack and a month's worth of wipes/diapers and a first aid kit. We're decently prepared now.

But, still dealing with The Belly. Happy to feel the little one in there but wishing things were less awkward and ungainly. Even maternity clothes don't fit anymore as most feel snug or have started to slide down The Belly.

A's birthday this weekend. I want him to have a nice celebration, but I really, really want the baby to come too. Maybe after we celebrate his birthday early....

G's kinder orientation tomorrow. I wanted time to clean out the car. I've been saying for over a year that I'd clean out. A half hearted attempt and then the toys, candy bits are all over the place again. My Volvo never had a speck of food in it. I do need to be a person of more moderation, re: tidiness. Half the time, it's one extreme or the other. Wish I had cleaned the car. But it's late now. And I have dishes to take care of. And of course, this is when I have time to do things [hahaha]. Life! Gotta love it, I think. And I do. Just...a little help with The Belly?

Toughness: a Myth?

2007-08-22T23:32:00.000-07:00

Me, personally, I think toughness is a myth. I do believe in courage under fire and I think people are capable of heroics. But toughness seems temporary and anyone that insists that toughness is possible more than 60% of the time and that toughness is a virtue seems delusional at best. Alpha males may be celebrated in business but I'll happily take a beta, thank you.

My ex, most definitely was an alpha. Is, I guess I should say, since he's still alive. But he damn well made sure everyone knew who he was when he entered the room and he worked very hard to ensure everyone would remember him. And he would sooner die than admit that he was afraid of anything. When 9/11 occurred and I expressed my fears, I was lectured for being afraid, for feeling like the world was falling apart and I was told that I wasn't being a good American, in expressing my fears.

When the sniper attacks occurred, my ex loved telling everyone that he wasn't afraid. No one in the DC area was afraid, despite the news to the contrary. The sniper attacks seemed worse in that people were killed right outside their homes, mowing lawns, pumping gas and shopping at Home Depot. I've never felt more vulnerable than during that time period. But, my ex thought anyone that was scared was reactive and less of a person. Shortly thereafter, I can't remember what it was, but something occurred where he actually broke down and cried in front of me. And after witnessing his repeated denials that he could be afraid, I honestly hated him the most in that moment.

My father is no better. I love my dad but he is a fragment of what he could be. He, too, clings to this misbegotten ideal of 'toughness.' He never showed me a lick of affection once I was older than 4. Younger than 4, you're still fun to play with, I guess. Older than 4 and I got to hear all the many things that were wrong with me. My existence meant my parents had less money to travel, less freedom to go out. How dare I complain when my sister bothered me. Lucky to have food on the table, blah, blah. But that doesn't really touch on the toughness issue, other than my dad wasn't a believer in showing affection. No, the toughness issue: my dad, like me ex, will never admit when something bothers him. I'm going on 37 years old and I still have no idea what trauma occurred in my dad's family that he and his siblings have a distant relationship. I get little bits and pieces here and there but that's about it. If anything displeases my dad, he won't talk about it. Just suck it up! Yeah, that's healthy.

So I'm less than enthused to hear my spouse's opinion of my child rearing: I'm making my son a wuss because I have the audacity to comfot him when he seeks comfort during the night. It takes less than 4 seconds: my son cracks the door, looking for me, I step out, put him back to bed with a kiss on the cheek and he's happy. If I'm worried, I'l check his temperature and make sure he'll fall back asleep without problem but during this time, he doesn't fuss. My son gets reassurance and I'm happy as a parent because it doesn't feel like my son is asking for much. But my spouse is insistent that I'm ruining him.

I love how people assume you're an idiot when you don't agree with them. I've read Brazelton [my favorite], Foster and Kline...I care about being an educated parent. But my spouse prefers to believe that I'm 'impressionable.' Based on my experience and what I've read, you can't be 'tough' or confident without a good, nurturing environment. Lecturing a kid when he's half asleep doesn't seem effective to me. But there you have it. My spouse is convinced I'm raising a wuss. Maybe I am. But denial of fear seems so pathetic. I guess I'll take my chances.

On fear, honeymoon and kids

2007-08-12T03:18:00.000-07:00

It's funny, when you're afraid, not quite sure how things will turn out and you take that leap and things turn out so much better than you ever could have expected or hoped for. I was pretty concerned about G adjusting to living with Andrew, afraid that we'd have more than our share of conflicts but things have been more than reasonable thus far. G still wakes up about 6:30a.m. [ugh] but we have our routine down cold. He pops his head in, I know to rouse myself, tuck him back into bed for another half hour [ideally] and then I camp out on a sleeper mattress, so G has reassurance I'm close by. People can say it's overkill, but it's been working well.

G has named A's pictures. The Asian style picture with colored blocks and interspersed calligraphy style marks has been dubbed 'messy picture.' An acrylic of A's street near a former house has been dubbed 'the road.' The only real adjustment now is all of us adjusting to Jack, once he arrives.

A and I have had quite the honeymoon. The wedding was perfect though I know G was tired. Foundation did such a beautiful job with the meal: Thai scallops and helping me tend G, taking him on a tour of the kitchen and giving him colored doubloons. And the cake -- I want to order more- strawberry cake with hints of key lime and coconut...crazy good. But the honeymoon: A and I went to NYC, of course, and while I did have difficulty walking thanks to the evergrowing belly, we hit the Met museum, Cooper Hewitt, SoHo for a tour of the tenements....Food-wise, we hit Mario Vitalli's restaurant Bacca[?] - I'm bad with names- , Pizza Neapolitano [ a new favorite] and Le Bernadine - heaven on earth.

The hotel was insane too: Hotel Rivington. We had a 9th floor corner room with views of the Brooklyn and Manahattan bridges on the lower East side. Japanese style bathroom, nice balcony, though I couldn't bear to look down. I want to stay there from now on, what hotel could possibly compare?

I'm wondering these days if I'm going to make it to Sept 19, Jack's big day. Everyone is eyeing the belly and telling me Jack will be early. I'm not sure what to say. But the facts are, he's a strong kid, my jumping bean [G was so mellow in the womb!] and I struggle to wak these days. Everyone at work is threatening to get me a motor scooter. I'm hoping I do make it to the 19th so the boys can at least share the 19th as their birthdays. That would be cool. And while G is virtually a carbon copy of me, I'm hoping Jack is more like A. One kid with my fears is enough. And, I'll be surpised if Jack isn't 80th or more on the percentile scale for growth. Half the time, it feels like he'll kick his way out. But I'm grateful for both kids, may they both be healthy and happy.

1st pregnancy

2007-07-21T01:39:00.001-07:00

To say the 1st pregnancy was much easier is an understatement. I was 5 years younger. I was 30 lbs. heavier than I am now but I don't recall limping along, during daytime hours and I certainly don't recall the stomach cramping. My female doctor noted that my uterus is hanging out of my distended belly [what the hell?]. Ironically, my male doctors tend to be more emotive and inquisitive - do I have any questions, is there anything I need? I do like the female doctor but our visits are very cursory and she wouldn't even hazard a guess re: Jack's weight. My favorite male doctor was right on the money when he guessed, 5 years ago.

But the stomach cramping, thanks to my distended uterus, sucks. Any suck it up attitude I had toward pain seems to have disappeared once I ran the marathon [back in 2000]. Now, I can't handle a toe stub. A says he wants another one and in theory, it'd be nice but I don't know if I can handle it. I'm not sure how I'll make it through the next 2 months. And sensitive Paul, everyone's favorite Marine [may G never be one] likes teasing me tha I'm a fat cow. Yeah, I'm sure his wife will love that if they go that route. And he wonders why I won't go out of my way for him. A nice guy, at other times, but too coarse for me.

Life is funny

2007-07-17T20:38:00.000-07:00

My mom makes me laugh. She likes expensive things on a Walmart budget. Nothing makes her happier than stories of you fighting your way through hoards of people at a Macy's sale to grab the last, pristine article at a clearance price. She wants to hear that you walked away with Franco Sarto after spending $15. Not likely, but that's what she likes to hear.

My ex, he was interesting. Money was no object if 1) it involved hospitality, 2) his pride or 3) both. I lived life well for awhile. Had a Volvo C70 before 30, while travellling to Europe for work and lived in a McMansion that fell shy of 6K square feet. Though I miss the house and the car, can't say I miss the ex too much. But it was nice for awhile.

Life has been good the past couple of years. After divorce, you're supposed to feel pinched, from lost income; my ex had been so tight with the money, I actually felt free, making the budget decisions for the first time in years. My credit's decent and while I spent more than I liked on lawyers, they were worth every penny and I've stayed solvent.

So it's funny to me when people want to fight over money. My counterpart is mad because the wedding price tag is mounting. I don't want to care about the price tage since 1) I have no plans to marry again after this and 2) I don't want to have regrets.

I'm 7 months pregnant, getting married. Where's the frikkin fun in that? My belly is hitting the floor and I can be a good sport about [haha] needing bumper beepers and stickers but it's not ok for me to want a ceremony and a dress. 2nd wife, 2nd time, what were the odds but I'm supposed to be content with a quiet courthouse wedding. Yeah, anyone but me.

Some friends I worked with liked telling me how difficult I am. Truthfully, it's almost a badge of honor. One guy gave me what should be my tomb inscription: I'm the 'worst' kind of woman. Because I think I'm low maintenance, but I'm not. I like attention. Frankly, I'm self sufficient [and I have no illusions about being low maintenance, since I'm very aware how little patience I have], I rarely ask anyone for anything. That makes me difficult, bully for me. I give what I get. Take it or leave it. Anyone can tell me I'm not good with money. But facts are, my ex tried to bankrupt me and while he may still be trying, I'm still here, credit intact. Anyone that wishes to call me irreponsible, let's see how they work their way out of $40K worth of bills and see how they're still standing.

Life is short. No one wishes that they could have deprived themselves more for bigger savings, on their death bed. And if my son or his sibling ever have the audacity to question how I spend my money, after putting them first, however old I am, I'll tan their hides. But life is funny, hearing the things that people say.

Seeing Jay

2007-07-10T20:04:00.000-07:00

My ex dumped G and my former nephew Jay off at the last minute, so he could play softball. I get so pissed, I was trying to organize my storage space so I have space for A when he moves in. And my ex, of course, wants to believe that his needs are more valid than mine. Figures, when things were starting to be amicable between us. However, inconvenient it was though, it's nice to see Jay. My heart will always go out to him, since Carol will never be the mother he wants, the mother she should be.

Of 4 kids, Jay is the last and final kid to choose to live with his Dad or grandpa, versus living with his mom. Her lifestyle is too volatile. She has left her current husband 11+ times and while I can sympathize with most women, I find it puzzling that Carol has the financial means to live on her own [she's a nurse] but she refuses to protect and nurture her kids.

Jay looks so much healthier now. No gray smudges under his eyes. He's allowed to grow his hair a normal length now and he seems much more assured than he was. How nice to see him healthier and happier. I wish I could take off from work tomorrow to entertain him and G but work has been too crazy.

My new theory on sloppiness is it's a refusal to grow up. Me: it's partly rebellion and adjustment, since I'll miss the space of the old house a good while [my clutter piles were minimal amidst all that space]. Jay supports my theory. He says his rooms's a mess. I don't know what it is but it's comforting to know that when you're room is a mess, you're the only one that can complain and you'll fix it when you get around to it. And messiness can be such a nice barrier, when needed. No more messiness for me, though, with A moving in. Even the car will have to be cleaned for the new kid.

But on seeing Jay, I'm happy. Hopefully, I can still be an auntie to him. He's the only Yannotti relation that I talk to anymore.

wtf

2007-07-06T01:46:00.000-07:00

Wtf is wrong with my family, my mom specifically. My godmother is stateside for undisclosed medical problems and I haven't heard about it and my cousin's mom is in the hospital a 2nd time for heart trouble [since this past Christmas] and I have to hear about this from my cousin? Instead, my mom treats me to her irritation with Tivo, since my dad can't get it to work. This is like 2 years ago: my best friend from H.S. lost her dad and I don't hear a word until after the funeral. Thanks, thanks for thinking to tell me.

This is why I obsess over my mom's mental health. Isn't it normal to tell people when something is wrong? Isn't it normal to pass on news, whether it's good or bad? What the hell? I would be so crushed if Tita Dita dies before I see her. She asked me to visit and I haven't got around to it. She's in NY but it's not like it's that far away. The guilt, the frikkin' guilt that I'll feel. God willing, she'll pull through.

I know people don't live forever but I stil can't help feeling robbed when people go. All the things that you could've said or done differently. And the fact that my godmother is stateside -- that's huge news! She's a world away in the Philippines. Have to love being the last to know. Beautiful.

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

A moves in next week: is he ready? Am I ready? We've already established I will never meet his standards. I am comfortable with managed clutter [small, multiple piles of magazines, mail and whatnot] and I've gotten rid of 4 piles. Of course, now that I'm down to 2 piles, he visits and still sees a mess. Not a good sign by any means.

But we did have the best time 4th of July. Hit Old Town Manassas for the holiday festival and listened to rockabilly sounds of the Grandsons, saw Gov. Tim Kaine, watched G bob for apples and saw the most amazing fireworks I've ever seen. They outdid the Capitol Mall fireworks significantly [and I'm a huge DC snob when it comes to fireworks]. I should've remembered the Southern penchant for explosives. It was the most time that A, G and I have spent together and it was good, quality family time: http://andrewwilsondesign.com/july07 .

Living with someone

2007-06-21T17:08:00.001-07:00

How do married couples survive? How can harmony be maintained when one party leaves shavings in the sink and the other party is a hypocritical slob? My fantasy will always be separate domiciles because then, no muss no fuss. You don't have to compromise, you each get your own space. Not exactly cost-effective for the Washington DC area but it's a dream I have.

It's always interesting to see older couples. Some seem so devoted and some...well, it's entertaining to see what they may see about the other partner. I'm hoping A and I can have patience with each other and work towards compromise most, if not all the time. Patience is not one of my strengths.

With G, I work hard at it because I don't want to repeat my parents' mistakes (it is nice to let a kid be a kid) but I've had the days when you're cursing a blue streak. Toss in the partner and a new kid and you have a hell of a Watergate salad. MMmmm, yummy. I never could finish Watergate salad though.

wedding expectations and the middle ground

2007-06-16T11:26:00.000-07:00

He wants a small wedding as in just my family at the courthouse. I want a small wedding that includes select friends and family. Small to him: less than 10. Small to me: 40 (each side invites 20 folks, including family). We have less than 6 weeks to plan. :)

My 1st wedding was so large: 250 people. My sister says it was 300. It was crazy fun. My ex and I had a line of convertibles for the wedding party. It was a fun little caravan from St. Mary's church to Ft. Belvoir. Steve broke the horn on my ex's car (didn't know you could do that). I asked that kids come to the wedding (honestly, what's the point of a wedding, if you don't embrace family) and we had the most fun, watching the girls twirl around in their dresses (and those are my favorite pics from the wedding). After the reception, it was on to the cigar afterparty at Matt's house. My cousins and select friends went to Matt's and I ran through the grass in my ballerina style dress. Silly, crazy fun. The wedding started at 10:00a.m. and we didn't hit the Ritz Carlton until almost 10:00p.m. It was all about the party back then.

Now...I have the better man but I still want to celebrate a little. I want my godchildren to be there and I want my friends to share this moment with us. I suppose I should only need the fiance but it's not that simple to me. I always want more. He wants, I want. For better or worse...I always want to find that middle ground. Wherever that may be.

Fairfax and penguins

2007-06-10T06:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the best day I've had with G and Andrew. We've had fun before, going to Cox Farms, going to the museum but yesterday, hands down, was the best. G and I went to the Fairfax fair and met Darrell, Liza, Lauren and Dylan. It was fun watching the kids play and what was really exciting was the kids really got into the old fashioned games at the Jamestown exhibit (barrel hoops and sticks, pick up sticks, chess and marbles). Andrew met us there and I think it's the most time that G and Andrew have spent together (since I wasn't comfortable hitting rides in my current, ultra pregnant state).

I actually was mildly jealous, G actually asked for Andrew by name to accompany him on the rides. I know G likes Andrew but it was weird not to hear him ask for me. And Andrew had no hesitation. I always worry about them not getting along, since they're not related. Guess I need to learn to relax more (haha).

Afterwards, we saw Surf's Up at Fairfax Corner. G went back and forth between sitting in his own chair and snuggling up with us. And that was the coolest. He's never snuggled with us before and that was contentment, enjoying the embrace of my two favorite people. I think A was a little disappointed that G didn't give him a hug as he was leaving, but G's not a hugger, despite his affection. He does it to his dad and me, he just stands there, expecting the embrace. Unless he initiates the hug, it's not his thing. Of the moments that I like to collect, yesterday was surely one of them. The only thing I need now is a family picture of all us us, A, me, Jack and G. And snuggle nights. That's happiness.

MD, florists and house spiders

2007-05-30T19:34:00.000-07:00

I've been driving to MD and back after work the past two days and I'm happy for a break (tomorrow). Back is tense, head pounding. Thankfully, baby Jack's movements in my belly help keep me from being in a completely foul, 'I hate everyone,' mood. My mom's hysterectomy has made life interesting.

El and I had to drive all the way to LaPlata Hospital yesterday. This week is the first time I've seen my mom frail. She insisted that El and I not take the time to visit, but we knew that she didn't mean it and it's not like hospitals are fun. There she was in her hospital bed, tired, barely talking. But it was also one of the few times that I've seen her smile. A small, tired smile but a smile all the same.

Normally when my mom smiles, it's a nervous smile. You can see half the time she's thinking of other things. Does she look nice enough, has she cooked enough food, why aren't people eating more than their 2nd helping, etc. El fussed over mom while I kept up the chatter. It was strange to see her so tired but nice to see the smile.

One day later, mom is back to being invincible. Ignoring the doc's directions, she is NOT resting and is cooking food: eggplant and beef jerky. Apparently, her cooking judgement is not what it should be (yes I LOVE eggplant and beef jerky!). Life happens. I brought food anyway from an Italian restaurant. My dad will be happy eating the remaining pasta and baklava.

And Marie (Christopher's in Hayfield) hooked me up with a spectacular arrangement, as always. Men can come and go, but always be good to your hair stylist and florist. Hair stylist, self explanatory. So much can depend on your florist, though, since your florist is essentially your voice, when you're not present. Marie always takes care of me personally (it's been over 10 years) and her generosity and thoughtfulness always show. I think A tires of my desire to cultivate relationships, since I do like repeating but if you find a gold standard, why discard it?

Home now and haven't done much. Strange goings on, generally. News featured a traveller with TB who hit Prague, Rome and Montreal before returning to Atlanta. That traveller must know he wasn't well. And TB is pretty severe. Maybe he knew? And my parents' neighbor (50-years old, I think) has been hospitalized over a spider bite that hasn't healed. Gives you new respect for the house spider.

Fallingwater, the proposal and PA fine dining

2007-05-28T18:41:00.000-07:00

A and I finally made it to Fallingwater. We've only talked about it for a year and this Memorial Day weekend, we finally saw it -- one of Wright's greater achievements on the East Coast. Having read The Fountainhead, it drove home what I'd read and I both envied and pitied Wright's clients. The house and servants' quarters were magnificent and dramatically different from the warm intimacy of Kentuck Knob. I'm embarrassed to say that between the two homes: FallingWater over the falls and Kentuck Knob carved into the hillside, I much preferred the smaller home.

Maybe I'm too provincial. Fallingwater is a modern palace after all, a tribute to nature and water but I far preferred the hillside vistas of Kentuck Knob. Funnily enough, Kentuck Knob photographs poorly, I really expected it to be ugly in comparison to Fallingwater. But, while there were many things to love in Fallingwater, the red cypress tones of Wright's smaller house and its grounds were certainly more inviting.

So, this Memorial Day weekend, A proposed. I did wonder if it would happen this weekend, but I didn't know for sure. And of course, I had to run to the bathroom as he was beginning to lead into it (the joys of pregnancy). He says he was nervous but he seemed fine until he got down on his knee. And of course, I was happy. I wish I could have taped what he said since some of it is a blur now. He was incredibly sweet and thoughtful and I've never seen him as flustered as he was in that moment. I remember him saying how he felt like a lesser man without me and I remember us laughing and hugging and his asking my assurance that I said yes.

That was the proposal I've always wanted. It was nice, low key, just the two of us. We had just finished a nice picnic at Ohio-Pyle park (around the corner from Kentuck Knob): chicken salad sandwiches, green apples and overly sweet brownies from the Summit Inn. The sun was blazing hot but the wind was soothing. And I just remember feeling calm....no hesitation like I felt with Porter, no scary crying like that moment with the ex and no 'I wish you hadn't said that' dread like with KS guy (if I could've stuffed those words back in his mouth). A's words were just right. And I should mention that the ring is elegant.

Probably my only frustration about this weekend was the restaurants -- the ones that A picked were good but there's a definite break between fine dining standards in DC (finally!) and PA. Caleigh's in Uniontown was good but our selected desserts were blah and the cappuccino tasted like Crayolas in water. I held out hope that Chez Girard's in Hopwood would be superior since it is a French restaurant but my experience was worse (A will happily protest that his meal was fabulous). The escargot was saltier than I've had and I had to send back the prime rib since it was medium well (and stringy) after I requested medium rare. The kicker was receiving Pampered Chef flyers with the bill. Nice, tacky touch. So I feel like A and I won't have properly celebrated our engagement without hitting Eve's since they do tend to every detail.

I admit, I don't quite know what to do with myself tonight. The condo seems quiet without G and only half my friends know the news though it seems late to call now. The wedding, I don't want to think about too much. Nice, simple, low key. And life with A...and Jack. I'm excited. Nervous about the balancing act between A and G (and Jack), but I'm excited. I think I'll be calling Susy a lot. And El. Life! And A says he wants one more.

This weekend and the nest egg that wasn't

2007-05-20T18:54:00.000-07:00

Friday night with A was perfect. I was on a high, following work since I'd received an award for my SE&I work (and I thought tech writers wouldn't be recognized on this contract) and we had tickets to the Lang Lang concert at the Kennedy Center. The weather was shoddy (rainy 50's) but the concert made it seem like the most beautiful night.

Lang Lang has matured since the 3 years I last saw him. Then, he favored white suits and his style, while impressive was a touch on the Vegas side. Now, he has a Paul Young hairdo and his suits are more evocative of Chinese culture. But his playing is still so forcefully passionate, I couldn't help laughing with pleasure to feel each chord as he played it. He remains an incredible experience. And Lang Lang was playing Tchaikovsky (one of my favorite composers). A seemed impressed by him and I was so pleased to introduce him to something for a change (since A tends to be the discoverer between us).

Dinner was at TenPenh and I have to say, my feelings towards TenPenh are mixed. Any restaurant that mars a New Year's dinner isn't ready for prime time, in my book. That's like the Super Bowl for restaurants and sadly, our party was jostled by busy waiters (c'mon!) and my shrimp had not been deveined. But, with an apology from someone within TenPenh and a gift certificate, we tried again and this time was much better: seared tuna that was respectable and an inventive creme brulee (a mild mint flavor mixed in with the vanilla bean) and great, great curry, I was happier than I thought I'd be, eating there again.

What made the weekend for me though was during the night. Normally, it's my side, your side sleeping arrangements. People have to sleep after all. But whatever sentiment possessed A, he held me all night, a surprise in the year and half we've been together. And while I was half asleep, he told me how much he loved me. That memory is a keeper.

Saturday was also nice. Reston Arts Festival was interesting enough. An x-rayography artist caught my eye and wouldn't you know it, he was from CA. Thank God he wasn't from Pasadena or I'm sure I would've heard about him for awhile.

What was weird though was when we returned to A's condo and were getting ready to head back out. A dove had been building nests on A's car and A would get rid of the nest but she would keep returning. Sadly, she laid an egg on A's hood, right next to the windshield. So you can't drive with an egg on your car and A and I dithered about what to do. I worried that the mother wouldn't touch the egg after we moved it. A suggested holding the egg in toilet paper, since I didn't want us to leave our scent on the egg.

He asked me to hold the egg and place the egg elsewhere and asking a pregnant woman to do so (and I can be fatalistic) may not have been the best idea. I'm thinking, 'What does this mean; what does this mean,' and of course, I cried, because it was probable that the mother wouldn't come back and now life has been interrupted. And sure enough, when we returned, the egg remained alone, abandoned...the nest egg that wasn't. I'm not sure how we could've resolved the situation.

Sunday, we had brunch with Max's boss and wife and my ulcer kicked up, wouldn't you know. But A and I hit the Hirshorn afterwards and the Wolfgang Tillman show was mind opening. Clearly not a fan of religion (and who can blame him), he displayed a memorial for victims of organized religion, where you see your features in black to blue photographic paper. After you view his content room on the treatment of women and homosexuals, it's difficult to argue the point.

My ulcer, I'm overdue for acupuncture or need herbal remedies or yoga...something so the acid doesn't consume the way it does. But A met 'Big Gino' finally, at G's skating lesson, and that was nice. And I was grateful to see G and watch his reactions to us all getting along. I love that kid. He's a clown (unlike me) but he's all heart. A good weekend. Even with my wretched ulcer and the strange nest egg fiasco. And oh yeah, my belly is hanging low, I imagine it'll be scraping the floor by 8 months.

Dorking it up

2007-05-14T20:42:00.000-07:00

Realized today that I've been dorking things up:

Forgot Donna's birthday 4/21 and she's the one that remembers mine [damn]
Forgot that I promised I'd contribute to Gwen's March of Dimes campaign [again, Gwen's been there for me]
Jack's such an active baby, I'm envisioning he'll be a hellion that's too much for me to handle so A has to talk me down.

The last isn't so bad [so I tell myself] but if this is me at 5 months, how in the world am I going to survive the next 4? I always wanted to learn to curse in Arabic so my curses could be that much more colorful [which I'm sure increases my dorkiness by 10].

At work, everything is as it should be, I have purpose, I'm good at what I do. But getting up in the morning is a chore. I've been making more Starbucks runs lately. I'm not doing decaf anymore. Outside work, God help me. Please let the next 4 months fly. A knows, I've asked him to carry the next kid. Science should have made advances by then. And a girl can take only so many varicose veins. My mom's mom had13 kids. How in the world? I would ask that my dorkiness be temporary, but who am I kidding? Hopefully, I'll regain some of my former memory/sanity!

Things that I'm Learning (besides I'm a Numbskull)

2007-05-12T01:55:00.000-07:00

Note: Roc and G look like cousins and Mattie gets sweeter every year; no bias as godmother!

Things that I'm learning of late:

G is a terrific ham, as evidenced in our pics from Mattie's 1st communion

I continue to be an emotional cornball as I was ready to blubber my eyes out, seeing all 96 kids at Mattie's communion, especially the girls, dressed in white dresses with their veils (like brides)

Ireland is not what it used to be, according to Michael and Jenny, 2 travellers we met in Haute De Cagne -- Dublin has Thai food and Filipinos! and North Africans now comprise a growing majority of the population

On politics, life and religion:

Blair is not as well liked back home, not only because of the Iraq war but he has been seen as gutting Socialist benefits like free health care and education (UK folks have it better than we do, excluding real estate)

Real estate in the UK is far worse than here: a flat goes for $800K compared to what I paid for my condo (kids live with their parents longer)

Italians are not the most charming people in the world, as evidenced by our experiences outside Milan and in Venice (they are 50/50; NYC folk and the French continue to be the nicest -- and there will never be a pass for the cretin who cut in front of me in the bathroom line at McD's)

Italians are entertaining though: waiters that offered us 'dessert' (frothy cream? with vodka and champagne) regifted our drinks when we turned them down -- did they even wipe my lipstick away from the glass

The Irish, Catholics and the U.K.:

The Irish (who doesn't like them) continue to rock as Michael and Jenny were the most fun travellers we met on our trip

Catholic church is not what it used to be: two scandals that I didn't even hear about re: 2 hypocritical bishops that had relations with women (1 with kids)

U.S.and French relations are so bad, it didn't even occur to me that Chirac didn't bother visiting the U.S., I don't think Bush had comments on Chirac's departure -- I only hope Sarkozy improves relations

I've been reading that U.S. and U.K. relations will cool due to U.K. resentment over the Iraq war, which will depress me (after 2 years working with U.K., how can you not love the U.K.)

Language, college, directions and pregnancy:

After being told repeatedly that Tagolog has no structure, Rick Sakamoto has assured me its structure is similar to Germanic languages and Indonesian!

I'm dismayed by what I hear about colleges -- they seem so unaffordable now and overly competitive

A and I are better off NOT driving in foreign countries (unless its English speaking) since he loves asking for directions and I emphatically do not (not more than once, maybe twice)

In Spain, maps are optional when you rent a car (hello? wtf?)

Pregnancy's not better or worse the 2nd time around, but it is funny trying to shave the legs, with the belly

Restraint:

My self-restraint isn't what it used to be -- must write shorter blogs!

I'm better than Spider Man!

2007-05-10T20:39:00.000-07:00

G gave me the biggest compliment today. I love it. He adores Spider Man, virtually everything he gets from the toy store is Spider Man-related and it was out of the blue, but he told me today that he liked me better than Spider Man. A huge compliment, coming from my kid!

Today was easier than yesterday. Of course, it helped that he was very loving. I love when he's loving. We talked about how he felt when I was in Europe. I thought he'd say sad but he was mad, presumably at being left behind. He still has the panic attacks though. Even if he sees me from across the room, it's not enough and he needs to be in close proximity. I wonder if his dad has been letting him watch scary movies again.

Parents, still clueless but I'm moving on. They think they can handle being objective when my ex calls to tattle on me. My mom missed the whole point that I don't want to be called to task any longer, considering I'm not under their roof. But, I guess it keeps them busy.

Read an article on child rearing and felt somewhat better. As often as G gets sick (seems like every month), he never had childhood allergies that required hospitalization, never required expensive diapers and special hypoallergenic wipes. So, even if he gets pink eye more than I'd like, he's doing all right. Hopefully, the new kid won't require special diapers or wipes either.

My patience still needs work. It's laughable that I'm a mom, I have so little patience. I love kids, just not other people's (ha ha). Whiny kids (need spanking). Tantrum kids (spanking). G gets whiny when he's tired but that's about it. How the hell am I going to handle a new kid when I feel so crabby watching other people's kids? Crazy. Emotionally, I feel more like a crotchety old woman. I could be 80, the way I feel some days (albeit without the need to talk about miscellaneous medical problems...but the day may not be far off!). But it was a good day since G thinks I'm better than Spidey. Very cool.

Brain meeelllt

2007-05-09T20:34:00.000-07:00

Ugh. Not a bad day but one of those days where enough happens, you don't completely realize how overwhelming it is until it's too late. G was a major contributor and the ex has his own agenda, interfering with my parents, which isn't helping.

Roller coaster with G today. He is still panicking every time I leave the room. It's infuriating. I go 2 steps where he can't see me and he's screaming my name. This never happened before. I don't know if it's because of Europe, he's really convinced that I'd leave him. It sucks.

I have been showing my temper more, which doesn't help. He told me he's convinced that I hate him when I'm mad. I keep reassuring him, I love you always, I love you forever. It helps, but he's still afraid. And with the baby pending, I have to be careful to refer to G as my 1st born versus saying 'You're the best," all the time, since that won't be fair to the new baby.

And G thought I was pregnant with him first, before my ex and I got married. This pregnancy is confusing him. No, no, I corrected him. Marriage first, then babies. Mommy did it backwards this time.

The up side is that I did entertain G with the stories of when he was born. And I drew similarities between him and his brother. Both pregnancies caught me unawares, so I could honestly tell G that they both hid in my tummy. G was my miracle baby: a surprise after 2 years of trying to conceive with the ex.... I was being wheeled to the operating room for a tonsillectomy when the surgeon stopped the OR prep and insisted that I take a pregnancy test. Who knew? And Jack, well, proof that A never has to worry about his fertility. But G giggled at the 'hiding in my tummy' stories and proclaimed me 'the best mom ever!' That was cool. Wish I had a tape recorder!

The downer: my ex, of course. He's good, he's a jerk, he's always up to something. After spending all day last Saturday with him and G in Baltimore, for Mattie's 1st communion, I warned him that I probably wouldn't make G's skating lesson. I was feeling carsick on the return trip from Towson and the lack of sleep the night before was brutal. Turns out the weasel called my dad to complain about me (not attending skating). Wtf? And my dad, in typical fashion was essentially asking me to explain myself tonight.

I'm working hard to be mature but it's for the birds. In my dreams, I'd have a dad that would stick up for me and never think twice about taking his daughter's side. Instead, I get stuck with Mr. I Need to Bond with Every Other Male (Throw my Daughter Under the Bus). I'm working on sending my dad a nice e-mail (since I'm not sure I can talk calmly) to please leave me out of whatever interactions he has with the ex. I should never have to explain my actions, period. If my dad questions how I'm treating G, tough. You raised your kids (and my therapists thank you immensely), I'll raise mine.

The final kicker is that I'm feeling megafat, this week. 40 lbs less than the 1st pregnancy, but my belly looks like I'm about to deliver. I'm a stone's throw away from wearing a kilt and making like 'Fat Bastard.' But my skin's too thin for the ribbing, so there ya have it.

The truth is, ya just can't win, and I know that, but sometimes...ya know it but you still want it, more than anything. Ya can almost taste it, even as you know it's rarely, if ever going to happen. House of Daggers is one of my favorite films. The antihero asks the heroine what she wants and she answers honestly. She wants the wind to stop and wait for her. It's completely irrational, unreasonable but it's what she wants. And in the end, she's in reach of her goal before circumstances take her down (I desperately want A to watch this movie with me). But I like the movie's romanticism. Bottom line: to roller coasters and romanticism (I guess), even if it makes my brain melt. I will be looking forward to down time with A, though.

Progression with A

2007-05-06T19:57:00.000-07:00

This weekend was one of the best that I've had with A. Our time was more limited than usual, due to Mattie's 1st communion on Saturday. Spent the majority of the day with the ex and G in Towson. But A was cool about the weekend interruption and the weekend was relatively low key.

Friday, I dragged A to Spider Man 3. I'll admit, I was apprehensive when I saw the reviews (Chicago Sun Times and Washington Post bashed it). A was worried, too. But he and I happened upon the filming of Spider Man 3 on a NY visit so I thought it'd be cool to see the scene in the film. And I love seeing movies on opening night.

A hated it. He wanted his 2 hours back. But, I had lowered my expectations so I thought it was hoky but ok. Bruce Campbell rocked as always. And Thomas Hayden Church made the movie. But A was pissed that Spider Man cried so much.

Dinner was a Brazilian steak house in Fair Oaks mall. It was cool. Meat on swords, how can you go wrong? They sell these restaurants as a guy's place, but in the vein that everything's phallic, it almost seems emasculating to me, that a man, holding a sword, cuts away slices of meat for people to devour. And as if to prove my point, there was one 'guacho' who rushed over to us and offered some white meat, which we refused since we were still tackling our beef. And the look on his face. I would've expected ambivalence. But the waiter seemed disappointed over the wasted trip.

Overall, it's a decent chain restaurant but with so many dining options in the area, I wouldn't rush back. The filet mignon wasn't cooked the way it should've been. Mine was medium well. A was wondering if his cut was really filet mignon. The other meats were good. But dessert was a mess. The place tries too hard. Key lime pie is simple and doesn't need much else. The cook was a moron and liberally doused the plate with mango puree. The taste clash was brutal. I hate places that can't leave dessert well enough alone.

Saturday evening was the Carlyle fiasco but Atlanta guy gave A a huge compliment. In front of everybody, he noted that A is known for being fun and joking around but given his energy, Atlanta guy said he could see how and why A is successful. I've never, never seen a guy compliment another. It's always, 'Hey, axxhole,' or 'hey, homo.' If they don't kid, they don't love. I wonder if Atlanta guy had been looking for a compliment in return. But I was happy for A. It's so rare to get acknowledgement, much less public acknowledgement of your talents.

And Sunday, my lunch with Judy didn't work out so A and I wound up exploring his preferred area of Alexandria and having a late lunch at Eammon's (my new favorite place). Killer fish and chips and you have to love a place that's so irreverent that the saying on the door says 'Thanks to cod.' A Catholic joke, Thanks [be] to God.

Walking around Old Town was perfect. A did have to stop in and quiz a realtor about his desired location. I'm not sure what to think about the realtor's feedback. He indicated that prices are higher than what they're used to seeing for the particular portion of Alexandria that A likes and it's neither a buyer's or seller's market. Not bad until the realtor mentions that homes are under contract within 4 days. That's not what I anticipated hearing and that's the environment that's the most stressful. That means escalation clauses and little chance of home inspection. I'm praying it was an exaggeration but perhaps it wasn't. We'll just have to wait and see.

Despite the fact that we didn't do anything special or maybe because everything was so low-key, it was one of my favorite weekends with A. Maybe we're finally settling into a routine. I like our progression.

Death Knell of A Date

2007-05-06T16:05:00.000-07:00

Funny how an off-color comment can change someone's relationship, in a matter of seconds. We had come from the usual AA meeting and had convened at Carlyle's for the food and banter. It was a larger group than usual, 12 of us (last couple times, it had been 7 of us) but things were lively and Atlanta guy was celebrating his sobriety anniversary. His date, Boston girl seemed nice enough but it was her 1st experience with the group. She seemed a good sport but could she handle the group's honesty?

A did things just right with me. He eased me into the group via coffeehouse meetings at Starbucks, so I felt more accustomed to the banter and I could see clearly that if you're easily offended, this is not the crowd for you. Atlanta guy was at a total disadvantage since his anniversary fell right after he and Boston girl had started dating (barely a month, I believe). I think she expected that they would attend the meeting and have a nice, night together, just the 2 of them. She was dressed for going out. He wore a Scorpions shirt with a jacket (very 80s). I'm not sure he warned her about the crowd (no inhibitions).

I, personally, was fascinated to watch Atlanta guy and A ping off each other. A gets along quite well with the others, but he and Atlanta guy, I don't know what it is but it's like watching gunplay with words: who's got the fastest quip. Nothing's off limits. It actually was one of the best nights that I've had, hanging out with the group and I was utterly exhausted, having had little sleep the night before.

Sadly, Atlanta guy crossed a line. He had been talking about Apache helicopters and the low dives they have to take to avoid becoming targets. Next thing you know, he glances at Boston girl and out pop the words, 'Like I do with you.' Hardly subtle, sexual innuendo. And Atlanta guy had been at it the majority of the night but Boston girl didn't enjoy the cross fire. Several folks said she winced. I didn't see but the conversation didn't improve.

Next comment came from John. He laughed and said something to the effect that neither A nor Atlanta guy would enjoy female company long, at the rate they were headed. The table erupted and I high-fived John. It wasn't true for A and me, I've known him long enough. But Boston girl was quiet. My memory's fuzzy now and I think she ducked out to the women's room. John persisted. Something to the effect of 'I don't think she was ready to meet us.'

And I told Atlanta guy the truth. If she can't handle the fire, better you learn now, than later. But I wanted the night to be perfect for him. Nothing worse than a misunderstanding marring your special occasion. And I like Boston girl, She's a journalist, like him. She's smart, inquisitive...I think she's pretty damn cool.

I thought about selling Atlanta guy to Boston girl but I don't know either of them well enough and they're both adults. We talked instead about Marc Chagall, Georgia O'Keefe, anything I could do to assure her that things weren't always so, low-brow. And I want to believe that she recovered.

There was some awkwardness as we flagged the waitress down for the check. Virtually the entire table left for a smoke break, leaving A, Atlanta guy, Boston girl and me. Atlanta guy looked miserable and practically begged for a smoke break. A agreed and Boston girl demurred, insisting that I couldn't be left alone at the table. I told her it was no problem, no big deal but out came her credit card and we both waited for the check together.

If I'd known her better, maybe we would have commiserated over how stupid guys can be. But I didn't want to highlight Atlanta guy's gaffe and John's unfortunate observation. I told her it was nice to meet her, which was true and prayed that they'd work it out and we'd see her again.

A told me not to feel sorry for Atlanta guy, that he has no problem finding women. But, I'm bleeding heart (always have been) and I hate to see his special day end on a low note. Everyone talked about her reactions afterwards. The majority think that he blew it but I want to believe that he pulled out the stops and it all worked out. It will be interesting to see exactly how much impact that comment had. Here's to short memories and 2nd chances.