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

Strange Times

2009-04-20T19:57:00.001-07:00

Husband laid off though he has lots of leads
Godmom very sick - unlikely she'll live past this month
Won't be able to attend funeral due to cost -- how bad is that?

Not sure what to make of this month. G is ready to lose a tooth. There's the fun stuff.

Messy People

2009-03-19T18:35:00.000-07:00

I think it's fair to say that I love messy people. Not that it's nice when things are TOO messy, but I find some comfort in stacks of books or a stack or two of mail. I find very neat people very UNsettling. It's not just that neat, neat people are so judgy. They are incredibly uptight. I would bet a fair portion of my paycheck that neat, neat people do not just roll with things. Everything has to be just so. And neat, neat people make incredibly annoying roommates. And no matter what it is, romantically, I tend to find the neat people. Such a disappointment. Maybe one day I will get my act together and be a neater person [but why]...the emptiness. Of course, there's quite a bit to be said for balance. But balance doesn't mean neat. Balance, really, is a little of both: a little messy...the splayed magazines, a few of the kids' toys, a woman's mussed up do. Messy people are realists who use their time constructively. Neat people, eh. Famous messy person [though she had maids], Anais Nin.

Long live blue crabs

2008-12-30T20:35:00.000-08:00

Blue crabs, my MD blue crabs have had a rough time of late. As a kid, I remember you could see the trucks parked off 210, the white boxy trucks like UPS uses, that had bushels of crabs. Tons of crabs for us to eat. Sometimes, the seller would have a steamer right off to the side of the truck, steaming the crabs fresh for us. My mom would buy the live crabs, we'd bring them home and I'd bring my friends over to watch the crabs bubble, bubble and do their little side-dance.

We'd watch them, and name them and occasionally spit [because kids can be stupid] at them but we did like those crabs. Off into the pot they would go, fighting and clawing the whole way. Being boiled alive can't be much fun but the crabs made a tasty meal, a delicious meal and at least they were well appreciated. I'd like to believe that counted for something. And now, the crabs are less plentiful, they come ashore to breathe, when they get desperate and they resort to cannibalism. Not a fun time, at all, for my MD crabs, the cannibalism.

resolutions, maybe, no...

2008-12-29T19:31:00.000-08:00

Resolutions, I could have a few of those, maybe, really, nooo. In theory, I like the thought of a clean slate, starting over. It's refreshing, exhilirating, like the 10 minutes or so that you feel good trying something new before you realize you've just found a new way to lie to yourself. Because do you really want to run a marathon again? Lose 10 lbs? Discipline your shopping? No, yes, no. Resolutions: good theory...execution needs work.

I guess my primary resolution would be more time to myself. I swore that I would always, always make time for myself, ha ha! This year alone, I've neglected my friends, my weight is now centered in mah big belly since I no longer have a regular routine and I'm at a total and complete loss to define myself outside of work. Thank God for work or I'd have just the boys to point to, accomplishment-wise. Not the best feeling in the world. The boys are wonderful but I need to fulfill myself, see my friends, just be me. Frikkin' aye...

Jack, still taking years off my life, but I still love you. A, you drive me crazy but you give as good as you get and I'm grateful to be your wife [bet you didn't think you'd see that in writing!] G, you're a good boy and I love you, baby bear.

I've christened myself lady with big belly 'til I start losing weight. Otherwise, I'll rename myself Herman, wear stretch pants and flip flops and move to the sea shore. Just seems like the thing to do. Resolutions, ha!

See ya 2008

2008-12-15T21:45:00.001-08:00

I know, it's premature to say goodbye to 2008 but I'm ready. It wasn't the worst year but it wasn't one of my favorites. On the up side, Obama was elected and that's a serious up. On the down side, my favorite uncle passed away, the credit crunch has decimated my 401K and baby Jack and my ulcer have played havoc with my 37-year old -38? bad memory!-self.

Lessons to take away from this year: I've never been more aware that control is an illusion. Time management? Sure, assuming Jack and G cooperate: clean diaper, toddler food, does G have his stuff together? How do larger families survive, holy cow!

My dad is relishing the fact that I will be living in a house of men. No worries. He couldn't have had it that bad living with 2 girls and my mom, right? Boys, I can handle, thus far. But I do wish the house was warmer. 72 degrees is too cold! Gimme 74 baby!

2009, we'll still have the credit crunch recovery. But hopefully, the stock market will be steadier. I'll have paid down my debt. Not paid it off mind you but paid it down. And ideally, I can start building for the future again. Hopefully.

2008, the equivalent of stepping in water while you're wearing socks. Not pleasant but not fatal. 2009, may you be much better!

outofsorts

2008-12-04T17:16:00.000-08:00

outofsorts and it's almost week's end; outofsorts and I don't want to start a new week again...outofsorts and my mis-match laundry socks matches the way I feel. outofsorts and I want, I want, I want.

Obama rocks!

2008-12-04T17:15:00.000-08:00

What more can be said? How cool can it be, finally having a President that represents what the U.S. should be? A thoughtful, cautious and charismatic President that cares about diplomacy. Can't wait, can't wait, can't wait!

Catching up

2008-10-26T02:12:00.000-07:00

Ha, Sarah's numbers are down and McCain's folks are complaining that she 'goes rogue' on them. I stand by my back door presidency comments, especially when one considers Todd Palin's unquestioned access to the governor's office and their previous refusal to address the brother-in-law questions. Why aren't people addressing the need to ensure that Cheney's abuses never happen again? Wtf?

But politics aside, I'm happy to see that I may be in contact with my 2 favorite guys again, Ethan and Eric. How funny is that? It's nice to see that you can [ideally] catch up with those that you care about.

Ethan -- too, too funny on the things we have in common. One of my friends told me that each significant other teaches us something, each time they cross our path. Not sure what catching up would mean this time around but it's nice to be in touch again. Eric, I haven't caught up with yet, but I'm hopeful.

Of course, my 2 favorite guys now are my sons, G and Jack. And my husband, even when he drives me nuts is someone I'm grateful for. Guess CA guys aren't all bad.

Sarah Palin - next backdoor President

2008-09-09T14:53:00.000-07:00

Sarah Palin. Everybody loves Sarah Palin. A positive: she's a good looking woman. Another plus: she's a devout woman. And boy can she talk! I didn't catch the speech at the RNC but the snippets I've seen and from what I've read, she has charisma. But what's really quite scary if anyone takes a look at her style, she's like the female combination of Cheney and Rumsfeld. Neither man is a fan of the questions, the free press i.e. the people's right to know. The same seems to hold for Sarah Palin. And seeing the polls even between McCain and Obama, I can't help but ask: isn't anyone else worried about Palin's imminent backdoor presidency?

Fact: I voted for McCain in 2000. I felt that McCain would take on the establishment and still work towards bipartisan endeavors. But I don't feel that way now. McCain fired his 2000 campaign staff. Why? Was that his decision or his wife's? He appeared at Oral Roberts University and now he likes the Bush tax cuts, despite the fact that he previously called them fiscally irresponsible. The man I supported in 2000 is no longer the candidate I remember.

Sarah Palin: fair to say she appears to be a strong woman. It's premature to say if she can hold her own in the debates but she does like her talking points. She hasn't gone offscript yet. Rumsfeld and Cheney were never fans for doing more than delivering their talking points too.

The Bush presidency was the largest exercise in executive privilege EVER. I'm betting Cheney will not have tapes, years from now, to reveal just how many back channels he had. And Sarah Palin could be VP. I don't believe that John McCain can stand up to Sarah Palin. I believe a McCain presidency means creationism will be taught in public schools, sex ed will become sexual abstinence lectures and woman will not even realize they neglected to advocate for their own cause: free choice...because even if you personally wouldn't elect to have an abortion, it's a horrible, horrible thing to say it's ok for young women to die in back alleys, as they seek illegal abortions. But I digress.

Obama, Obama, Obama. I support you and if women have common sense, they'll vote for you too.

Can Jack Stay Healthy?

2008-07-22T18:28:00.000-07:00

That's the question I keep asking myself and it's hard not to go nuts. He can't stay free of a fever or at least he couldn't, the day he was supposed to get his tubes to fix the ear infection that never cleared. I think it's safe to say that being sickly runs in the family, given that Jack is as sickly or more sickly than his brother. At least after 5, it gets better. It did with Gino. Here's hoping that work continues to understand though I've had to hire a nanny the last couple times, since there is only so much patience that one can expect. Can't wait until 29 July, the next surgery date! Fingers crossed!

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.

Shonda Rhimes

2007-05-03T19:10:00.000-07:00

I love Shonda Rhimes. Grey's Anatomy is brilliant; her spin-off looks brilliant. The writing makes Grey's a therapeutic show to watch. She writes lines that no one thought of writing before, not even on HBO. She has called out women's dilemmas in amusing situations: you're either the bitch or the woman that plays by the rules and either way, it's still hard to win. All these years, and the dilemma remains the same.

With the DC references that have been apparent in Grey's, I have the guilty hope she's from DC. Nonetheless, her writing is fabulous. Career-wise, I've gotten everything I wanted. If I could, I would love to work with Shonda Rimes.

Now I get it - May 3

2007-05-03T16:48:00.000-07:00

I was wondering why the ulcer was acting up and apparently, my body has a better memory than I do. I actually forgot today was the day I got married. How funny that I forgot so quickly. I'm happy though. I saw Judith today to discuss the crazy life changes and to verify if I'm being fair or not in my expectations.

It surprises me when people don't like counseling because, I guess I don't understand why people wouldn't want a sanity check. Of course, that's the one thing my ex got right. He suggested counseling prior to our marriage and in ignorant fashion, I told him I wouldn't marry him if we needed counseling before we walked down the aisle (stupid, stupid, so very stupid). But I assumed I knew the whole story, what could go wrong. You know someone after dating 2 years, right? Lesson learned.

Maybe that's what scares me now. People change when marriage rears its head. Porter freaked (2 years of dating) after his half-baked proposal. The ex didn't but changed dramatically, following the marriage (perhaps because I was officially his property). And I had my KS friend proposing marriage to me except for the minor detail that he was already married (probably the worst proposal -on principle-though he was very earnest).

The ex has been surprisingly decent lately. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop and it may have started to. He has been pestering me to meet A and since it hasn't happened, I wonder if this could be the latest offense to his pride. Everything he does has to happen right away because God knows, he's important.

Whenever the ex takes his passage to the next realm, the church will be packed to the rafters for him. I can honestly say, even though he was the worst bastard to live with, that he takes care of people (assuming they don't marry him). He listens to people, he's always there to help with a favor. It's what I admired about him...that he was someone who was dependable, stable. I don't think he's ever turned down a friend.

God Bless Judith for pointing me to Martha Stout's Sociopath Next Door:

The Sociopath Next Door by Martha Stout (Paperback - Mar 14, 2006)
Buy new: $14.95 $10.17 75 Used & new from $7.60
Get it by Monday, May 7, if you order in the next 22 hours and 23 minutes.
Eligible for FREE Super Saver Shipping.

That book revealed the helpful sociopath and the transcripts from our counseling sessions reveal my ex for what he is. A has mentioned that I seem willing to forgive my ex. That's not really correct. I'll never forgive my ex for a number of things (trying to run me down in my Volvo, working to push me down the stairs). But, there's no point being bitter. G's named after him and he needs to believe that his dad is a good man. And assuming he's not cornered, the ex will go out of his way for most anyone.

My main concerns are G and Jack (and A, pending his willingness). And from there, everything else will fall as it may. But it's laughable that I forgot May 3. May my body's memory focus on more important things, in future.

From New Zealand, a brave dog

2007-05-02T19:25:00.000-07:00

How can you not love someone named George:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18440403?GT1=9951 .

Work2

2007-05-02T18:55:00.000-07:00

You know it's not going to be your day when:

The people that install your new computer (to replace the hunk of junk that had a monitor as big as a 24" TV) manage to tangle your mouse around the new CPU (winning)
The colorful character that you count on for levity is MIA (no John to be found)
You have to break out the salt and pepper shakers for eating crow, when you make the wrong call to the client, saying things are looking up... after documentation folks tell you the package that you've been waiting for has arrived, and it's the wrong one
1 of 2 project leads that you support breezily walks into your office and announces that the day you had to review a 101-pg brief has been reduced to this evening.

On the up side:

One of the system engineers volunteered to crawl under my desk to fix my mouse (thank you, Rick)
The correct package was delivered today so even though I did eat crow, damage was minimal
I love my new computer; it's not the mini-command center at AT&T (dual monitors, one as big as A's - since size matters) but it's still an improvement
Rick stayed late with me, which was nice since I'm rarely fond of locking up
Even if working late isn't great, I now have 3 hours of comp time to cover appts.

Notes:

I do need to ask Silas for a get-out-of-work note come September. I don't want to have to worry about working late, that late in the pregnancy. And given my track record (16 hours a day during proposal time when I carried G, driving from Columbia, MD), I'm better off at home than work.

And the ulcer. It's been worse lately. I haven' t had time for reiki or acupuncture. Meds only go so far. It's hard work, relaxing! Sonogram in 2 weeks (5/16). Hopefully, everything will check out as it should. Had a weird thought today that it could be a girl, but I'd be surprised if Silas was wrong.

Go, El, go ;)

2007-05-02T18:45:00.000-07:00

Little sis is now a VP. And to think we worried about you.

From press release:

Gal Borenstein, Founder and CEO of The Borenstein Group stated: “Over the past two years, Eloise has demonstrated her unique and consistent track record of managing people and strategic outreach programs in the most complex and challenging environments without compromising excellent customer satisfaction. Her passionate work ethic and infectious enthusiasm has contributed to our clients’ success and inspires our agency to continue our growth.” Lepesqueur will be responsible for continuing the agency’s organic expansion of the government communications practice, which will now expand to service not-for-profits organizations with programmatic branding, outreach, and strategic marketing solutions.

Happy Monday

2007-04-30T19:45:00.000-07:00

Work was rough. Everyone seemed shaken by the Mondays. John, the network guy that's brilliant and eccentric resorted to screaming/yelling the stress out. I asked him if it was therapeutic but I never got an answer. He's pissed b/c he found out he's been paying maintenance on a router that was never connected (6 years). That's a bad day for you. And he's dealing with the aftermath. And John's a Virgo -- I thought they cared about keeping it together... Guess not (I drive A nuts generalizing but it's my hobby).

And Steve, our project lead is falling off his diet. He's a teddy bear of a guy that hails from Chicago. He was railroaded into leading a 2nd project that has failure written all over it. Product should be delivered right about now and he's the 3rd project lead coming up to speed on the thing. We entertain each other with Murphy's Law scenarios and kid stories.

I was irritable b/c I couldn't get a decent answer out of anyone in gov't: I submitted a documentation package to government Feb 1. Gov't has had it a decent amount of time and now it's impacting the project. Can I get a response? No. I didn't really expect one but I was irked that build documentation from another contractor was supposed to be submitted 4/27. I don't have access to said database to verify document delivery. Can I find a gov staffer to confirm delivery? That, I actually thought I could get an answer to. But no, 2nd day running, all it should take is a glance and I can't get that.

I miss ITT and AT&T. I had total control, it was great. I wasn't the PM but I had enough latitude to call the shots and backbrief the PM. Both jobs rocked. Though the travel with ITT burned me out. I miss being the one getting the face time with the lead players. Though, strangely, I get the most money from NG and a pension but the lack of calling the shots is a bit of a pain. Thankfully, Steve is flexible and gives me some latitude.

It has been a rough Monday. But Happy Monday, the day's just about done. And the weather was beautiful. Now if I could only get my Hallmark account to work!

Parents are funny

2007-04-29T19:56:00.000-07:00

I was a bonehead today and locked myself out of the house. It's like I have to do one, really stupid thing once a year. But, I suppose if it's once a year, I can't complain too much. A picked me up and we had a nice day together. Finally checked out Zaytinya (what has it been, 2 years since it opened). Then my parents came over and let me into the house.

Watching my parents, I can't help but wonder what it'll be like when I'm older. My parents have such a convenient memory. I love it when they tell me not to spank G. These are the folks (more my mom than my dad) who ensured I could barely walk after a whipping (and I mean whipping) with a belt. So my mom tells me, 'Don't spank G.' My answer of course is, spare the rod, spoil the child. And I'm not excessive. But I guess when you're a grandparent, spanking is evil. Like the grandchild will behave well without punishment.

And my mom looks at me and says that my hair is too dark. Last time I checked, it's the same color it's always been. But memory serves us differently, so, my hair's darker, I guess. My friend Mel said that you always have to cut grandparents slack, because they're just trying to get into heaven. Aren't we all?

Sometimes, I feel so crotchety already, it's hard to imagine what I might be like as a grandparent. I'll just delude myself that I might achieve coolness by then (unlikely, but a girl can dream). Then maybe, I'll become a no-spanking advocate. Who knows?

Interesting Blog and Cool Old Lady

2007-04-28T09:06:00.000-07:00

Interesting theory on screen savers: http://science-professor.blogspot.com/ .

I was also pleased to see that NY police caught the creep that mugged a 101-year old lady. That lady is so cool: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18360915/?GT1=9246 . I hope I can be as even keel, should I ever make it to that age.

Filipinos

2007-04-27T22:24:00.000-07:00

I admit, I'll never understand Filipinos. I always imagined that I would never be questioned about being Filipino, if my ethnicity wasn't mixed but my cousin, Pinky (yes, that's what we call her) has dispelled my illusions. Her husband's business partner brought home a mail order fiancee (ugh). Her name is Jem. Jem doesn't cook (haha) and was pining for Filipino food. She asked Pinky to make adobo. You can make it wet or dry (I like it a little wet myself) so Pinky makes it according to Jem's specifications and then made her own personal version (dry). Jem and her fiance sample Pinky's noodle soup. The fiance asks what Jem thinks of the soup. Without missing a beat, Jem explains that the broth is what you serve when you have no food in the house (I would've died in that situation; my ulcer would flare and I'm sure I'd be eagerly looking for ways to self-medicate through dinner).

Next, comes the adobo. Jem takes a bite and challenges Pinky's heritage. The adobo isn't 'Filipino enough.' Uh, yeah. So, it's not enough that both your parents hail from the Philippines, it's not enough that you speak the language (and Pinky is one of the only family members that does). If you don't cook a certain way, you're not Filipino enough. I don't know why Pinky tells me these stories, though I guess it's some consolation for all the crap I've gone through...I know they're not nice to anyone.

But naturally, the fact that Jem is a mail order bride, that her manners are questionable indicate that in the Phillipines, Jem would not run in Hilario social circles. She thinks dogs are a delicacy. My mom's family, though poor, thought of dogs as pets. But I remain amazed at the lack of unity of one people. Other people have it easy.

My ex told me he'd like to date a Filipina. I couldn't keep a straight face. As long as G doesn't have to deal with a Jem.

Travel in a nutshell and G

2007-04-25T22:41:00.000-07:00

Wrapped up 10 days in Europe with A. The trip alone was fabulous. Barcelona, Haute De Cagne in the Cote D'Azur region and Venice. We ate table-side (counter-side, really) with a cooking legend, Pinocho in Barcelona. He served us at will, from white beans to veal to bakala (no clue how to spell). We had the best coffee in France and superior foie de gras. And Venice introduced me to cuttle fish in squid ink.

In Barcelona, I most enjoyed a breakfast at House of the Cat. They were closing as we ambled up for lunch (2:30p.m.). But we were able to grab coffee and a cheesecake. The tables were set in an orange grove and the surrounding view reminded me of CA with its wide open spaces.

In France, I enjoyed most everything, from a gallant stranger who carried my suitcase 2 flights at the train station, a cordial taxi driver who tipped us off that the Picasso collection was not in Antibes for the summer, the Matisse church in Vance (simplicity is more beautiful than ornate structures), an Irish couple who related the politics of religion and the changing face of Ireland (Mick and Jenny) and Madeline, one of the workers at the Grimaldi Hotel who did our laundry (no charge) and ensured I had coffee and a croissant the day we endured a 10-hour train trip without food and drink.

Venice, I loved St. Mark's Square and the water taxis. The King's Palace and the Ca'D'Oro Gallery. The art was so overwhelming, I had ADD the majority of the time. It was too hard to take in, all at once. The canals were very charming but on warm nights, you could smell bits of New Jersey. Thankfully it wasn't high season when it's really hot.

We did squeeze in a side trip to Monaco, prior to Venice, but it's nothing like you expect. Like Hollywood, it's more glamorous in the movies. Up close, it was boring, just a smattering of high end shops in pretty buildings while scary women with painted faces walked past.

So, travel was great but the trip stressed G out. He's scared of my disappearing and panics if I'm out of his sight. And Gino actually seemed to reassure him, since G saw all my e-cards. Funny, the ex's good behavior. But it's a godsend and I'm grateful.

Who knew?

2007-04-24T14:31:00.000-07:00

Strange science stories:

Kryptonite: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18289647/wid/11915829?GT1=9246

and jellyfish:http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17913669/ .

Who knew, really?

On toilets, Spain and A

2007-04-15T21:45:00.000-07:00

I'm coming to the conclusion that men cannot flush toilets. My ex never seemed capable of it and I can only roll my eyes when I walk into the bathroom and find that I need to flush before I can sit. A's normally pretty good but on the occasions he's not...who knew the sloppy girl was so anal.

Barcelona is very beautiful but the trip is different from what I expected. Hemingway loved Spain and I thought I would too. I loved Mexico, I wanted to live in DR and Puerto Rico and I've seen more beauty in one day then I could hope to see in a lifetime, but....I was homesick today, if you can believe it.

New Yorkers are known for attitude. It's their thing. EVERYbody wants to be a New Yorker at some point. Who doesn't want to say, 'You messin' wit me?' But in spite of the rep, I haven't known too many New Yorkers to be rude. A and I had a cabbie cuss us out when A innocently asked why the cabbie was charging us more than the fare shown on the meter. And a passerby apologized for him, saying, 'He's not the real New York.'

And Paris, everyone loves to badmouth Paris. Virtually everyone I talk to complains that they were treated rudely in Paris. Granted, I visited Paris (and Bordeaux and Orleans) back in the late '90's. But in situations where I felt that my ex and I deserved to be treated rudely (he would ask bars and restaurants to make change for us, despite the fact that we weren't paying customers, in English, no less), we were treated with the utmost courtesy.

Here, our hotel is impeccable: Hotel Prestige off Passeje Grande; I've seen Gaudi and Gehry, a Friedlander exhibit (more culture than I can shake a stick at), Poble Sec is like a cross between New York ( shops just like off the Stuyvesant corridor) and alleyways and street signs like Paris and what's not to like about the coffee and ham sandwiches. But the people leave me cold. They are easily flustered. I'm the first to admit, my Spanish needs work. But I begin every sentence with Please and Excuse Me. And most people smile and they mentally cuss me out assuredly, but they indulge me.

Today, people were rude to us 3 times. For lunch, our waiter made very clear that we were a nuisance since we arrived as the kitchen closed @2:30p.m. A museum counter clerk (a woman, the betrayal) was a flaming C to us. I think A was pretty unhappy with me, because I told him we were leaving. All he wanted was a coffee and I wanted an OJ. We waited 10 minutes for our turn and the minute A began to order coffee, she showed her exasperation. I asked for a refresca and pointed to the OJ and she would have none of it. She sneered, rolled her eyes and if there was ever a woman that I wanted to trample (the museum cafe for cryin' out loud), it was her. I asked A to walk with me and we were out of there. And the poor hotel clerk at the front desk: he'd been wonderful the night before, recommending the Olympic boulevard for a nice walk after dark. Murphy's Law, the room keys didn't work upon our return, today. A tried them. The clerk reswiped them and when I brought them back, the red light was still blinking for both cards. And while the clerk was far more restrained than his counterparts, he did ask, did we understand how to insert the key? At least in the U.S., the customer is always right.

And A. I think he's an incredibly lucky person who doesn't aways realize his luck. I think he's pretty cavalier about the wrecks that he's walked away from. Even though I know he's unhappy about his divorce (who is, really), he's very lucky that he's on speaking terms with the ex. I'll never downplay what he's been through, but it's a marvel that he's relatively intact. And I love his zest for life.

When we talk about marriage, it's nice. He's the one for me and he knows that. But change will always scare me, even a little bit and it's hard to believe that he wouldn't view me as a ball and chain, at some point. If we stay unmarried, he can never accuse me of that (holding him back). He can give me a hard time over getting pregnant but that's the worst of it. G and Jack could always find fault with me but kids always find fault their parents anyway and it's not their call. Being married doesn't mean you stay married.

Part of the problem is, I used to keep lists. Lists of all the happily married people. Problem is, when your marriage fails, everyone feels compelled to share their stories. My list has grown dramatically shorter. The only time I wanted A to lie to me, I asked him if it could happen to us. And I wanted the obligatory no. Or I hope not. Instead I got the honest answer: it happens. I know. I know it happens. But I can't survive that. Not again. I was engaged before I was married, to someone else. He freaked and picked fights like crazy (after almost 2 years of happiness). And I told him, if you wanted out, you could have just said so. Months later, he said he made a mistake and I told him, firmly, with a smile, yes he did. Then came the ex, because my I bowed to my parents' anxieties of two unmarried girls (the shame), approaching 30. And now, it's day by day. Jack and G will come 1st and after that, we'll figure it out. The only tough part is I don't have a glib answer for nosy people who ask, are we married, but I'm working on it.

19 Sep

2007-04-12T23:29:00.000-07:00

Looking at the calendar, I'm thinking 19 September. 19 September would be a good day for Baby W to make his entrance. The up side of C-sections, A and I get to choose the day. And G will be at his dad's that week so I'll have at least 4 days to adjust to the new little one before worrying about G. 'Course I need to run it past A. But I'm tired, can't sleep and couldn't think of much else, so hopefully, A will agree.

Am packed (except for shoes) but still feel unprepared. The trip should be fun though. Funny how A and I have been switching positions: he's been excited and I've been unwilling to get excited until it happens. Now he's worried about checklists and what not and I'm more excited (but still have to address my lists). Barcelona, Nice and Venice. Too cool.

Very 1st time that I've hit Europe when I wasn't boondoggling after work. I do miss hopping the pond. But back then, I travelled way too much. England 2 or 3 times a year, on top of CA 3 to 4 times a year, I was fried. But the perks were nice. There's no way United kept my mileage. And A's making fun of my calling a car. But I miss the perks.

Have two outfits that I just bought, that I love. If A doesn't like them, he's nuts. Another shirt I bought is questionable, but I'm pregnant. I give myself a pass to wear it, regardless of A's raised brows. I will simply remind him, Tarantino is LA, ha ha.

I still haven't seen Grindhouse. Alexandra's in Detroit, Grace is too hard to pin down, socially. A, I'm not sure he would be the best companion for Tarantino. I guess the new rule is, if you're from CA, you must hate Tarantino. Sarah hates him too. Whatever. He only raised the bar re: dialogue, action sequences and soundtracks. Josie, well, she ran to see 300. I didn't. I guess I'm the only 1 that doesn't care about it.

Anywho...vacation!

Recovery from your parents

2007-04-12T21:34:00.000-07:00

Recovery from your parents should be a tax deduction. Somewhere, somehow, future kids should be able to meet some sort of threshold where they could get free therapy for life. Or free rides at Disney World for a day/ month. Something to make you say, wow, I don't know how I did it, I survived, let's go celebrate!

Parents said they'd 'stop by,' when I really should've known we were talking about they're spending the night because they miss the grandkid. I should've said no. I wasn't thinking. I'm not packed, I'm not entirely happy and my mom's usual criticism has me ready to bazooka anyone who's even going to comment about my weight.

Really...what is wrong with Asian people? They're not happy unless you're anorexic. One of the only women my mom has complimented was bulimic. That's healthy. Except for the stomach pains (gah), I'm faring much better than the first pregnancy, weight-wise. Last time around, I had gained 30 lbs in the 1st trimester for a total of 60 (thank you OJ). But the cravings paid off, G's pretty smart. I want to believe some of it's genes but some of it was the OJ.

Baby W, sorry, I'm not craving the OJ anymore. Margie was very sweet at work today. Told me how good I look (yes, I take my compliments where I can get them) and that she expects the baby to be bigger (not too big, please). I hope I'm more like her as a mom. Very vibrant, positive.

Desi complains that El and I don't give my mom enough credit. Yeah, that's true. But it's hard to commend the person that gives you gifts and Chinese water torture at the same time. I can make all the excuses that I want for my mom, but c'mon. At some point, she has to take responsibility. Both my parents, a therapist's dream. El and me too, obviously.

My negative energy though, I just get messy. It's not something to be proud of, but it's harmless enough (until A arrives). And lately, my dad has been breaking stuff every time they visit. The cover for the kitchen fan now has to be fixed. What the hell?

I'm sure G will complain about me too. Whatever. Maybe I'll start a petition on recognizing recovery from your parents.

Adjusting

2007-04-10T16:29:00.000-07:00

All of the adjustments we will all enjoy when A moves in.... I figure it can't hurt to get started reading:

On Step-parents and parents: http://www.parentalalienation.com/stepparents.htm

The importance of family meetings and family activities: http://www.kidshealth.org/kid/feeling/home_family/blended.html

Strategies to be aware of: http://www.flc.org/hfl/parenting/stepparents.htm

Building trust: http://www.familytlc.net/step_parenting.html

Blended families: http://www.helpguide.org/mental/blended_families_stepfamilies.htm .

The balancing act will be interesting. I am excited for G to help out with Baby Jack. He's happy that he can help be a role model, as the older brother. I am nervous about the compromises that we'll all have to make, space-wise. G sharing his room with the baby made the most sense and I've verified with my friends that had to double up as kids (their own experiences and other-wise) that there's no permanent damage. The challenge will be including G, making sure A's happy, making sure the baby's taken care of and finding time for myself while making sure that G and I still have quality time, in addition to couple time with A. No pressure!

I need to ask A where he'd like G's playspace to be. The living area by the kitchen seemed like a good place but I forgot about A's piano. The crawl space was my original idea for baby W's belongings and G's toys. A was less enthusiastic but I can't think of an alternative. G has to have a place to play. How else will he feel welcome? Hopefully, we'll have no bumps moving to a bigger place next year.

Family names

2007-04-08T05:31:00.000-07:00

You can tell you probably don't have the best name in the world when you work to find out what it means, only to have a person hesitate before they tell you. Except for the fact of my grandfather, I have been ashamed of my family name, Lepesqueur. It's a mouthful, everyone screws it up. I do like being French. But that's about it.

My cousin, Gene and I were of like minds. We both altered the pronunciation of our name so it would sound better. Instead of the hard, consonant sounds of Le-pes-cur we would pronounce our name as Le-pes-cure as in, 'we are good and helpful.' Given my French teacher's hesitation in dissecting my name, I knew it wasn't a good meaning. She summarized my name as either fisherman or sinner. I would tell people that my name meant bad fisherman. My guess is, she give me the nicer version of my name. Maybe the family name means 'cursed' or 'cursed cur people' as in ' dirty yellow dogs.'

A made crystal clear how much he despises the name I've chosen, Yannotti. I did hope, since we're not married, that the baby could carry both our names. He's very territorial about names, unfortunately. But I like a good Italian name. My ex's family aren't the only Yannottis.

The upcoming family structure will be unorthodox but family's family, regardless of last names.

On girls

2007-04-06T16:37:00.000-07:00

I think there are a number of reasons why I can't have a girl. For one, I have way too many neuroses that I'd have to worry about passing on to a daughter. With the boys, I'm alright. But girls, holy cow! I'm afraid I'd bring worrying to a whole new level (my mom was the expert worry wart).

And then there's the problem of self discipline. I'll budget say $25 to spend on the goddaughters. But then I see a cute dress (http://www.macys.com/catalog/index.ognc?CategoryID=25324&AdID=34686&LinkType=SiteAd&LinkLoc=5991&PageID=25324*1*24*-1*-1) like the kimono dress and the budget crumbles. Just this one time....

And despite working in a hair salon in high school (hahaha), I can't style hair to save my life. I can't even braid. If I had a daughter, she would picket for a new mom. Boys, no worries, good hair cut and they're good to go.

Girls grow so fast, it breaks my heart. Mattie's 10 now, I think. Old enough for 1st communion. Girls are supposed to be your daughters forever and sons, you're supposed to lose to wives and such. But hopefully, I'll find a decent balance with G. Girls may be more fun to shop for but I'll take G and Baby W anytime.

confession

2007-04-05T19:05:00.000-07:00

The things that have bothered me recently, my failures that I haven't come to terms with:

1) Nicki W - I wish things could have worked out like a TV special. I wish that your mom had never sought to remarry. I wish that your stepdad had been someone different. I wish that you had called me back, when you asked to live with us. It's one of the few times that my parents were supportive. We could have made it work. I wish that I'd had your number. I don't even know how long it was before I found out. Dead at 14 isn't the way to go. I do want to believe in reincarnation. I want to believe that you went on to have a much better, much happier life. The last time I saw your sister was at a neighborhood funeral. The folks I know don't seem to want to remember you. I remember you and I wish things had worked out differently.

2) Bia - Your secret was too great for me. And I still can't believe that no one else knew. No one else wanted to see. I knew you weren't clumsy. Your dad was a doctor. Doctors are supposed to help people. Another time that I wanted a TV special ending. Guess the nuns were too busy obsessing over teenage pregnancy and LaReine's academic performance instead of paying attention. Your secret taught me my limitations. I want to save everyone, help everyone, but I couldn't and can't. I did tell Sister Jean, when I knew I was leaving LaReine. Someone had to look out for you. But I told her the same thing you told me -- that if we interfered, your life would be worse. I pray you survived. I pray you made it. And I wish I could know that everything turned out ok.

Sometimes things seem so overwhelming. And then I know I have to take a deep breath and step back. A lot of times I wish I had a different life. I wish I'd had more fun -- it feels like I never got much of a childhood. But it's all in the comparison. I still had food on the table and a roof over my head. I wasn't cyberbullied. I wasn't forced to fight a war -- it blows my mind that a 13-year-old Sudanese boy can be a seasoned warrior. And that's beyond sad. Loss of innocence is such a crime, no matter the circumstance. But my ultimate confession: I'll always wish I did more. It's too frustrating, when you don't do enough.

snot brain

2007-04-05T15:05:00.000-07:00

I am a big, old, honking snot brain today. Even with cold meds, my nose is Niagra Falls. I look so pathetic, Paul didn't even try to make fun of me today. Normally, he assesses my boots, my dresses and the belly. The guys complained that I looked dorky, perpetually, holding the tissues up to my nose. But it seemed better than their suggestions to stuff my nostrils full of Kleenex. Though I would happily snort wasabi right now, just to feel my sinuses.

The belly is pretty damn big. My belly has it own zip code now. Please let my bathing suits be flexible enough to fit. I'm so not in the mood to look for new suits. Figures I'd be sick before vacation.

This weekend, I'm supposed to meet A's boss and his wife. Figures I'd come down with something right before the big, social event. No way to look somewhat composed when you're clutching Kleenex and sucking down Halls. Maybe I'll gorge on hot and sour soup tonight. ANYthing to be rid of this cold.

Bright spot: Kim gave me Tylenol sinus meds and half a box of Puffs (and lots of pity). I love the 'mommy' treatment.

too wussy

2007-04-02T19:14:00.000-07:00

I am too wussy. Baby Jack is kicking my a$$. My stomach is bothering me and it's hard not to get whiny about it. I actually had to call the doctor's office to verify that the stomach pains were normal. It's not full out cramping but it feels like the kid is boxing my umbilical cord. Or Tarzan swinging from it. If this kid is giving me a hard time now, how bad will it be in the future?

I ran in the Marine Corps Marathon (no training -- other than 10 mile preps) and there's no comparison. The endorphin high you feel while running never really kicks in during pregnancy. Maybe the nesting period, but that's close enough to birth, it almost doesn't count. The baseball-sized blister I had on my foot, that was nothing compared to now. And I'm not even 5 months in.

I feel awkward and ill prepared. The Lamaze stuff they teach you, I never got into it. I always wanted to try hypnosis and I do think that would be pretty cool (no drugs, just the practiced concentration) but I think you have to be in another setting besides a hospital, some new agey place or something. But G was back labor (jackhammer on the spine) and there was no way in hell I was going to suffer through.

I've already enlisted A's and G's help in cajoling the little one to be gentler to me. G decided Jack wants out already. I just think he's a hellion in there. Hopefully, he'll be a little nicer to me. But facts are facts. I'm becoming a bigger wussy with every year. Hard to believe I ever completed the 26.2 mile run. If only you got a medal at the end of pregnancy. 1st place for best composure during labor (that would not be me)! Just give me the shot, please.

tired, tired, tired

2007-03-31T17:59:00.000-07:00

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

2007-03-26T21:21:00.000-07:00

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...

2007-03-25T16:42:00.000-07:00

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

2007-03-18T21:39:00.000-07:00

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!

2007-03-18T21:08:00.000-07:00

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

2007-03-13T19:26:00.000-07:00

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

2007-03-11T13:25:00.000-07:00

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

2007-03-11T10:44:00.000-07:00

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

2007-03-11T08:35:00.000-07:00

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

2007-03-11T07:23:00.000-07:00

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

2007-03-10T16:54:00.000-08:00

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

2007-03-09T16:14:00.000-08:00

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

2007-03-05T18:23:00.000-08:00

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.

figuring out year end

2007-02-28T18:35:00.000-08:00

Greenspan's suggestion of recession has me concerned. A and I were talking about getting a bigger place (which would be nice) since my place will be a tight fit but given recent economic news, I'm less enthusiastic about the new house now. That and the fact that there hasn't been talk about contract renewals at work ( a return to the job shuffle) and I'm eager to save with the best of them.

A was nice and said his place seems too quiet at times and it's nice to think that maybe he won't mind the family life too much. Should be interesting. As I get closer to the due date, it'll be nice to have him here.

G only wants a little brother. I laughed when I told him it's not up to us. He admitted he wouldn't mind a little sister but I know he wants that little brother. March 20 we'll find out. I'm so tired all the time. I don't remember the 1st pregnancy tiring me out this much. But I've forgotten so much!

It feels like September is just around the corner, to me. Maybe to no one else, but I'm feeling it. I do hope that my water breaks. It'll be a complete drag if they have to induce.

Funny, 12/26 was G's due date and baby W is due 9/26. That'd be too funny if the baby came around 9/19, early like G. I imagine A is somewhat relieved he won't have to share his birthday. I'm not sure I would want to. Here's to a healthy new kid!

The new kid on film summary

2007-02-20T23:08:00.000-08:00

I was shocked. Things have dramatically changed from my 1st pregnancy. Last time, the 1st visit (5 years ago) I don't recall getting a sonogram. It was just a nurse and the doctor presiding over a Doppler machine, the little handheld that helped pick up the baby's heartbeat. This time, I was treated to a little sonogram of the new kid, Baby W and I felt bad, since I didn't think the visit would merit Andreas having to take off from work.

The new kid looks good. The only thing that drives me nuts is Dr. Silas refuses to address my weight (maybe because he's too PC or he knows I'll obsess over it). All indications, so far, is I'm close to the ideal target weight, which is nice, given the last time (overall), I gained double the desired weight. No more OJ cravings for me. Hopefully, Baby W will still be smart.

The next visit, the baby will be on display for a full-color, 4-D sonogram. Ultra cool! I did make sure Andreas has the date on his calendar, since that's a visit that shouldn't be missed. The only downer is my age and the obligatory Down's syndrome tests. My mom had El when she was 42, back in '74, back before pregnancies after 35 were fashionable. With my mom's genes (hopefully) everything should be ok.

It's neat to feel the baby. I can feel the flutter movements on occasion. It's cool, though with G, I couldn't feel it until much later. G is enamored with the thought of a brother or sister though his 1st prediction was twins. He's excited at the thought of bossing someone around. He's already working on nicknames for the baby, though his 1st choice will be discouraged: 'crab.' But it keeps me entertained.

On a different note, wish the ex could be dismissed as a parent. He's taking G to McD's 8x a month. That man's an idiot. His grandad dropped dead of a heart attack at 48. Given the fat content of McD's and my ex's family history, I think G's visits should be rare. He laughed when I told him he's killing G. Guess we'll find out (1.5 year left) if my ex has the heart attack gene or if I'll have to worry about G. Not much I can do there. But with diabetes, gambling, loss of hearing in one's 20s and depression all factors in my family history, my family history isn't impeccable either. And Andreas wonders why I'm not a Vegas fan (no need to see how bad I can get). Anyway, the Baby W show next month should be fun. Finding out the sex, that'll be cool too.

$80K down the drain

2007-02-17T00:23:00.000-08:00

Ugh. One of those months. Work's good and I got to stay home with G this past Tuesday and Wednesday due to G not feeling well and the weather was just plain crazy, ice everywhere. But I'm pretty bummed to discover that I can't refinance and rent, as I had hoped.

The mortgage guy had my hopes up, telling me that I could refinance my place for $1500 a month, fully amortized. I was in heaven. He even told me that my credit was closer to perfect than I previously thought, 24 points from 800. Then he started backtracking when he had difficulty pulling comps from my area. Places just aren't selling. What a rip! Assuming I'm able to sell, I'll have to settle for paying off my 1st mortgage and not my 2nd. I'll have spent more on this new kid than I'll ever spend on G prior to college. And the new kid will never see any of it! But, the new kid is the reason Andreas and I are even looking at new places.

I'm curious to see what Andreas will want, house-wise. He wants to be closer to work, as close to Chantilly as you can get. But he doesn't like cookie-cutter homes and he wants acreage which places him further from Chantilly, down towards my area. He wants at least an acre which means Davis Ford area, which is what I want. So it'll be interesting what's more important to Andreas. I admit, I have mixed feelings about Chantilly. I need to run the crime stats and I don't know anything about the schools. But the big circle I'll be making will be somewhat irritating, since I'll be dropping G off at school in Manassas/Manassas Park. I haven't even discussed daycare for the new kid. I'd like to use the same school for the new kid. They took and continue to take good care of G and I like the emphasis on emotional care and the bright colors of the infant's room. But I can resign myself to a Chantilly commute, if that's what A wants. I can't imagine him saying that he'll want a place with less than an acre: we'll see.

I'm loathe to spend much though: that $80K. That's what I get for wanting a new place.

Things to be crabby/things to be happy about

2007-02-13T00:31:00.000-08:00

Things to be crabby about:

I can't sleep ( I should get coping tips from A)

A and I will have to negotiate the taxes next year -- who gets the write-off for new kid (ugh!) since you have to alternate years

Did I mention that I can't sleep

Freezer is leaking because I let the ice in the icebox get too high

Heater problems because of design flaw: water damage in the garage and my utility closet

G's eczema is outrageously bad (his stupid dad) and he has a mild fever

Things to be happy about:

The new kid: a complicating factor, but a blessing

The new kid means a $900 deduction (it counts)

A should be happy because the new kid will be his 1st

I've been fearful that I'll be as fat as last pregnancy but I've only gained 2 lbs -- ideal weight gain is 3 (1st month), so I'm on target
G and I baked chocolate chip cookies last night and he discovered the joys of cookie dough -- he was fun to watch
Even though I drive Andreas crazy, he's still around, still sweet
I still have some peace of mind and I'm discovering meditation
Other than G requesting extra babying, he has exceeded teacher expectations in pre-K so I'm very proud that his regression following the divorce was minimal
I have cool god-kids (Raul Jr. and g last Feb)

Note: spacing is off, but it's 4:00a.m. and I can't sleep; c'est la vie

fear wins

2007-02-12T20:12:00.000-08:00

We were laughing over a co-worker's stories but it really wasn't funny. Parts were but overall it wasn't: a co-worker's ex spouse is apparently a bit of a fruitcake...someone who is quite angry, self-absorbed and someone who has taught one of their children to be the same way. Me, being me, I'm always drawing the parallels and Don's experience isn't too different...married 7 years prior to divorce...ex is always negative (though mine put the facade on for everyone else). Ex's feelings are more important than the kids. But it was funny imagining Don being married to someone like that, he's so logical and light hearted. It stopped being funny the minute he mentioned being a stepparent.

In one breath, Don mentions that he was the worst stepparent ever, that he doesn't put much stock in blended families where one parent has never parented before (prior to his 2 kids with the ex, he hadn't parented and his expectations were unrealistic, per him). And it's not fair to Andreas but I'm expecting the worst from him, moments after Don's story. And I'm trying not to be but I'm pretty damn scared.

Andreas has been good to G but I'm extremely aware that G irritates him, to put it kindly. G is not his son, not his blood relation and despite the fact that I would've expected them to have more in common (G at 4, was at an age where Andreas could do no wrong) I don't see them ever having a decent relationship. G will always be the restriction, as far as my life with Andreas is concerned. Andreas can be as decent as he wants to be, but it's a fact, G limits me until he's 18.

Living together is not my 1st choice. It leaves me open to a custody challenge and I've always worked to set a good example for my son. But getting married for the sake of saving face, now that the new kid is expected is not exactly palatable either.

And the new kid may well tear us apart. Andreas and I had such a nice routine. He would complain about it, our week on and week off but the truth is, it's fair to say that our hearts grew fonder, I believe. You're not going to be too excited about the folks that are under foot all day.

There won't be a break from the new kid and that's scary as hell (though Dave and Dusty have offered, thank God). I honestly thought birth control was a formality for me since it took me over 2 years to conceive the 1st time. G has always been my miracle baby. So new kid has been quite the surprise.

I hate struggling with fear. And I know better, I really do. Andreas is a good man and even when he loses his temper, he is pretty decent about reconciling. Some of the things he does say when he's angry, I tell him, are not ok. He hasn't learned the rules of fair fighting (say what ticks you off but don't escalate the argument to your partner never doing anything right -- it's a lie and a personal attack; give your partner the benefit of the doubt and when that's hard to do, discuss another time to talk more rationally). After working to save 1 troubled marriage -- 4 counselors, 5 if you count my priest, you can summarize what you've learned more easily though I have no illusions about being an expert.

Day by day, my favorite mantra, and we'll pull through one way or another. Don's happily remarried, 10 years now I think. I hope Andreas and I will follow a similar path, when the time's right. And I trust he'll be more forgiving of G than Don was with his stepchildren. 'Til then, I think I'll begin filtering Don's stories, for the little peace of mind that I have left.

charlie brown

2007-02-11T15:20:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day is just around the corner and I charlie brown'd our celebration weekend. I was supposed to cook a nice, romantic dinner for just the two of us. The fact is, I've talked about cooking dinner for Andreas for a year now and while my intentions have been good, things just haven't quite worked out.

Friday would have been the perfect day for us to celebrate, but the almost-brother-in-law (ABIL -having dated my sister over a year, if not two now) switched her birthday celebration from Thursday to Friday. So Friday was nixed. I comforted myself with the fact that I had Andreas' gift ready to go. My sister's, I didn't, but I figured I could swing by the bookstore, easily on the way to Andreas'.

Traffic wasn't great on the way home, I took longer cleaning up my place for Andreas (though I'll never be tidy enough for him) and I had no gift for El, while realizing that we'd have to drive to Silver Spring versus DC for El's bash. I now had no time to run to the store for El and I was rationalizing and cursing myself, of course. A's gift becomes El's gift and wouldn't you know it, Andreas got me the most thoughtful gift: two beautifully framed photographs -- one of G and one of G and me.

Saturday, I console myself, I will rebuy Andreas' gift and he'll like it because he had asked for it. But we see Pan's Labryinth (which I hated since it's about a sociopath during the fascist/Communist war in Spain and I thought it was supposed to be more of a fantasy movie) and we spend too much time looking at houses. I am tired and useless by the time we return to my place and I wonder how many special occasions I can flub for Andreas.

The cake and the cannolis that I had bought from Wild Flour were lackluster, which was a shock, given that their other food is amazing: incredible homemade soups and killer pastas. All I had for Andreas was a card. A store bought card that he had to squint over, given my squiggly writing. And people think I'm nice.

And I'm mad because Josie has asked me for a favor, reviewing a requirements document and she's never asked me for a favor before so I said yes before verifying it's length: 90 pages. I did tell her I would only provide comment versus fixing it, but I'm still mad at myself. It's the weekend and I'm working.

Life is silly and I need to be better about avoiding or just laughing about my charlie brown moments. I've a feeling that I will be a remedial student in this area, though. Still alive though. Still breathing. And it's hysterical to imagine how life will change with the new kid.

In truth

2007-02-07T04:49:00.000-08:00

Andreas is a good guy (the only one I want) and G is a good kid. I worry too much. I do need to try yoga. And as for the new kid, well, you take your blessings where you can. I admit, I'll be curious if the new kid will look like Andreas, me or the both of us. Hopefully, the last.

what was I thinking?

2007-02-06T17:54:00.000-08:00

What was I thinking or what were we thinking? I didn't get into this situation by myself. I'm pregnant again and this wasn't part of the plan. Andreas asked me to get tested again. I took the test twice and called the doc's for a blood test. Apparently, doctors do not run labwork for pregnancy anymore (too expensive). So, ept it is. Due date is September, Andreas' birthday month.

I have no concept re: merging/blending families. G and Andreas have behaved decently towards each other, but I keep waiting for the backlash. And my place is too small. 3 BRs: my room, G's room and the guest room. If Andreas moves in, he'll convert the guest room to his office and we'll all have fun adjusting to my cozy condo. 1800 ft seems big for G and me, tiny for 2 adults and a 5-year old and a baby.

The plan was complete autonomy: my weeks with G, my weeks with Andreas and everyone's happy. Now, a stranger is on the horizon and there will be no breaks from the baby (not right away).

I confess, I was horrified to hear that Andreas believes in 'crying it out.' I always wonder where people hear such things. My parents believed in my crying it out -- hello abandonment issues. I wonder if I could encourage Andreas to read parenting books. I'm no expert, but I know what I've read and it's helped. Dr. Brazelton is my favorite: Touchpoints, the Essential Reference. He too, chides parents that believe their child should cry it out and points out that you only teach the child that he/she shouldn't count on you.

Brazelton also points out that no stepparent should ever expect stepchildren to readily accept them or to be grateful. According to Brazelton, 'the smart stepparent will step back and leave it to the resident parent to decide when and where to act.' So far, Andreas has allowed me to handle G, but I remain concerned that G and Andreas will butt heads since Andreas likes things quiet and G varies.

I liked it better when I could compartmentalize everything. Life's easier that way! But here's to a little variety I guess.

Rumplestilskin

2007-01-28T19:07:00.000-08:00

My ex is Rumplestilskin. He told me tonight that he plans to obtain custody of little G (how I'd love to know) and move back to Geneva. I met my ex in church. How the hell can you go wrong meeting someone in church? It seemed like such a safe move: churchgoer = someone devout. Someone devout=similar values. I submitted my ex to an interrogation and he passed with flying colors (he was patient with my questions, he never badmouthed his first wife which would've been understandable but would've raised flags). Instead, I should have questioned why he never badmouthed the first wife. Nope, instead, he saved all his anger to dump on me.

His first wife told him that they'd never have kids. How cruel, I said. Now, I understand why. My son's feelings mean nothing to my ex, from what I can tell. G hated soccer but Gino insisted that he liked it. Gino already plans for G to play football when G seems more cerebral.

My ex merely wants G to be a living breathing replica of him. My son is named Gino (what a mistake, but it means dearest one in Italian -- I checked -- and G is my dearest) but he looks very little like his dad. His temperament, his coloring, it's all from my side of the family.

So Gino assumes that he can take G from me and move to NY, where I wouldn't be able to visit. I admit, I think upstate NY (Geneva) sucks in a capital manner. Something is wrong in towns where you try economic redevelopment for 15+ years and not much happens. Kodak and Guardian Glass remain the top employers in the area. Yeah, I want G to grow up there.

Realistically, I can't imagine my ex retaining partial physical custody and moving to NY. I can't imagine a judge in the VA area who would endorse shuttling a kid across state lines on a monthly basis. To be safe, I'm contacting the lawyer tomorrow to confirm the actions I can take for full custody, if G's dad is stupid enough to move. But when Gino said what he did, I realized he's Rumplestiltskin.

change

2007-01-28T17:51:00.000-08:00

I am not one of those people that celebrates change. Change happens and that can be great. G grows bigger every day, emotionally, physically (I see the changes weekly)and those changes I do celebrate. But other changes, I struggle with the disruption.

Andreas and I have been talking about getting married within the next year and living together earlier and while it's nice, it scares me a bit. It's hard not to wonder if one of the secrets of our success is that we're not around each other 24/7. Even though we can hardly be accused of being on our best behavior all the weekends that we see each other (at times he's tired, I'm tired or we're both not feeling well and we're tired) but the fact remains, we both have a week to enjoy to ourselves ( I have my week to concentrate on G) and we have time to miss each other.

Living together, we won't have the chance to miss each other and each of our individual habits is more likely to irritate the other. And kids: that scares me no end. Will we still talk to each other as individuals and will we still nurture our relationship or will we drown in the various kid activities? I feel very strongly that you nurture kids, but you also nurture each other.

And my place: 1800 square feet doesn't seem like a lot. I only have 3 bedrooms: a guest room, G's room and the master bedroom. There's no room for an additional kid (never thought of it before). I told Andreas I'd rather have a larger, neutral house for us to move into. He wants 5 bedrooms (which makes sense but is hard to find). I'd like 4 with a den/office for him/us. We're limited where we can move, since I don't want G to switch school districts but Andreas gets to pick the house within the Manassas area (though he did say that I'd get some say). I'm hoping he likes lots of light. The condo he picked gets a lot of daylight (actually more than mine) and I'm hoping that's an indicator.

All these thoughts swirling in my head regarding the potential changes. Change can be good but it can be maddening!

Worries?

2007-01-21T05:29:00.000-08:00

Maybe I worry for nothing when it comes to Andreas and G. We took G to the National Aquarium yesterday and the Museum of Natural History and I think we all had a good time. G did get whiny before dinner since he was hungry and I was getting 'the look' from Andreas (how dare G get whiny when he's hungry, but most kids do) but what was most important was that Andreas let me handle it.

G didn't want pizza since the two of us had that on Friday night. And regretfully, 2Amy's only has pizza. Andreas hazarded a guess that they had sandwiches and I guessed pasta but we were both wrong.I coaxed G into eating bruschetta with grated Parmesan and it was entertaining to see G eat, he was so enraptured with the Parmesan.

G started getting antsy right around dessert but Andreas still had time for a cappuccino. And G has maintained his record of being reasonable around Andreas. I haven't had to haul him out of a restaurant once, knock on wood. Around my family, he can be a handful, and around Alexandra. My family doesn't help matters, since my mom will intervene when I'm correcting G. And around Alexandra, I think G took advantage when I was tired. You never do get an off day.

But so long as Andreas gives me the freedom to handle G, then I feel like I have less to worry about, which is nice. Now if I can get G to stop asking for a brother or sister, then we're golden.

wishing

2007-01-20T03:47:00.000-08:00

I wish Andreas and I were always on the same page, but we're not. He's appalled by my lax parenting because I allow G to eat Pop Tarts on occasion and I let G stay up late on the weekends. My approach to parenting is Bill Cosby style (see cake routine). If you let a kid have a treat on occasion, whether it's cake for breakfast (on occasion) or staying up late, I don't see the problem.

Apparently, Andreas hails from my mother's school of thinking: kids should be seen and not heard, no exceptions. Granted, it's a struggle for me to be fair in this area, because I absolutely hated the way I grew up, so naturally, I'm going to raise G to be more of a thinker than a rule follower.

I was mistaken for 40 when I was 14, because my mother insisted on buying me the most godawful suits and blouses. There was no family time in my house, except for opening gifts for Christmas. Otherwise, everyone retreated to their corner of the house. Dinner was agony, eating food together since my parents never took an interest in what El and I were up to. It was always assumed that only the adults had interesting things to say. Chew food, beg for permission to leave the table and be grateful when you could escape. Yeah, good times.

Weekends are my only fun times with G. During the week, my routine with G is structured around his swim lessons, his homework, assuming that I don't have to work late. This week, I worked late every single night, it kills me. It's nice to have two days off to relax with G. Regular rules still apply : eating together, no eating in front of the TV but weekends are looser, easier.

Both G and Andreas are accustomed to getting my full attention, I can't imagine the two coexisting peacefully. When we go out together, I do have the best time, from Cox farms to the Dulles Annex. And G likes Andreas for the most part. He still wants his dad and me to reunite but I just remind G that his dad and I fought all the time. But given Andreas' disapproval of my parenting style (I know I'm not eager to change it), I'm not sure what the way forward would be.

I keep telling Andreas, if he wants to know what it's like to have a kid, get a puppy. While understandably, they're not equivalent, they are the closest things to kids. I'd be curious how much of a rule person he'd actually be. I want to believe that if he had kids, he'd want them to be smart and to think for themselves and that he'd apply rules to fit the situation versus barking out orders, no exceptions. I'd expect him to choose the former. And when people like rules, it never seems to occur to them that compliance can be faked (El's case). And inflexible rules certainly don't foster empathy and understanding.

Court was weird today, but I was happy with the verdict. Gino dragged me there for nothing. The courts were an hour and a half behind schedule so Jim convinced the ex's lawyer to conference call with me to my Benefits Dept, so they could verify my proof of life insurance. Gino's lawyer is a quarrelsome dumbass. He refuted the paper printouts of the proof of life insurance, but whatever. The case was dismissed with prejudice: Gino can't drag me back to court on this. Jim remains worth every penny. But I am tired of shelling out for the retainers. Here's wishing that Gino becomes less difficult. A girl can dream.

You have to wonder

2007-01-19T03:53:00.000-08:00

You have to wonder about the parents of the kid that was missing for four years, taking the talk show circuit. You have to wonder about parents willing to admit on national TV that they believe their son was sexually abused. It's now out in the public domain what that kid has survived and it's easy to imagine that not everyone is going to be sensitive about it. How is that kid going to go to school? He probably won't be viewed as normal. It's bad enough when bad things happen, but to have the whole world know about it? To have the world view and weigh in on the fact of your victimization?

Maybe the parents had a conversation prior to the show, with their son: this is what we expect will happen. And maybe, if that's the way it happened, then maybe it was for the best. But it makes me ill to think that this kid was being discussed, in his presence, about what he survived and the past four years. And what indication was there, that the kid didn't mind his being discussed so openly? It boggles the mind.

The whole case made me cringe from the start. I know the mother was happy when she was told her son had been found, but I felt like she gave false hope to other parents of missing teens, telling them to never give up and always believe. It worked out for her, but that doesn't mean it'll work out for everyone else. It would be great if things did work out for everybody, but that doesn't seem to be the case.

I think the worst thing about this case is the fact that the kids were older. I always want to believe that you can worry less about your kids as they age. An 11-year-old has more autonomy than an eight-year-old. And it seems like an 11-year-old would have a better chance to fight a potential abductor. I'm still looking for that easy answer.

Switching gears, have the court case today. I pray the judge will be sympathetic to my side. I'm not banking on it, since I don't have copies of paperwork I previously signed. Funny, I thought asking the losing party to pay court costs would be a deterrent to Gino. Guess not. Should be fun.

Pine Needles II

2007-01-14T20:11:00.000-08:00

The pine needles are still winning. Vacuum #2 bit the dust tonight. It's one of those stupid 'cyclonic' vacuums with the permanent filter. At first, I thought the permanent filter was a blessing but now I know that it's something to be cleaned versus something to toss out. Now I need to figure out if I want to a) fix the stupid thing myself, unscrewing all the applicable parts (and of course, the dirt cup isn't swinging out the way it's supposed to), b) just buy a new vacuum cleaner with the air bags (cheap, hopefully) or c) call someone else to fix the vacuum. None of the alternatives is enticing.

Had a fabulous weekend with Andreas. Saw Kathleen Turner and Bill Irwin in the current version of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (they were outstanding and Kathleen Turner was quite formidable in her role as the abrasive, misunderstood wife and unappreciated daughter). Following the show, we hit Butterfield 9 for a fixed prix dinner of seared scallops, pork loin and toffee cheesecake. Butterfield 9 was very nice but the service was perfunctory given the late hour. I have been spoiled by Eve and the other high end restaurants. Shameful, but who's complaining?

Today we saw Children of Men and now I'd like to read the book. It's like the author took Orwell's police state one step further and addresses the basic rights that we take for granted: the right to reproduce, the right to travel freely and the general value that can be accorded to human life. It's a nice little spin that the future of mankind rests upon a minority baby girl. It'd be interesting to hear what the fundamentalists would say to that.

I know I talked Andreas' ear off about the movie (though it did take me a while to collect my thoughts). I haven't seen that thought provoking a movie since Brazil. Babel was a good movie, but it didn't come close and Requiem for a Dream was jarring but not thought provoking.

Andreas and I have such a nice rhythm. Sometimes, it seems too long before I see him but when I do see him, it's as if we're the only two people (adults) in the world, thinking, seeing, feeling and sensing. I know that's a silly conceit and I don't truly believe that but, it is a sensation I experience. The world is our oyster, etc. I'm at my happiest with him. And I'm not even ashamed that I'm such a cornball, though maybe I should be.

The only downer is that I can't travel the way we did last year. I need to be pretty conservative until I figure out what's happening with the job (our contract is up, gotta love it). Hopefully, I can afford a little fun this year, but I want to keep trips simple this year: stateside and not too far. Self restraint, not one of my favorites, but life goes on.

Normal people

2007-01-07T15:27:00.000-08:00

Normal people don't buy 6 ft. tall Christmas trees and haul them up 4 flights of stairs (single woman by herself). Normal people work smarter, not harder in disposing of said Christmas trees. If I'd remembered, I would have wrapped the Christmas tree in old bed sheets before littering my stairs with half dead pine needles. And normal people don't break their vacuum cleaners, trying to get rid of the lovely pine needles, once Christmas is over.

Christmas is over and I'm trying to regain mastery of the house. It's been a drawn out affair, moving boxes from Christmas unwrapping, upstairs to storage, bringing down the lights and stowing the ornaments. I still haven't delivered all the Christmas presents (one family's schedule hasn't coordinated with mine) and I probably have to resort to the post office, despite the fact that I'd rather see the kids' reactions. But the New Year has already passed and it feels silly to hope that I'll see them soon.

And I can't even get time to blog as the kid is already pestering me, so he may play his games. He has been on the computer a good portion of the day. It's my fault: he wanted to play tennis earlier and I was too lazy to oblige.

It was a good lazy day though. The sky was overcast and it was cold, seemed like 40 degrees. Funny how I think I want more kids on occasion. It's hard to keep this one entertained. I bought fresh paint and little figurines for G and after 3 haphazard paint jobs, he's done. We read 2 books together (I'm making him read now, actually) but he gets so bored. And because I' such a kid, I admit, I thought it'd be easier.

Transition time

2007-01-01T18:29:00.000-08:00

I hate the days that I'm in transition, following days with Andrew to days with G. The half day in between is like limbo sometimes. I've called El, Grace, I've called Josie, Tony, Alexandra (only Grace wasn't home) and the evening still feels strange. I'm wondering what he's doing and I just saw him this afternoon. I miss putzing around the house with him and I'm irritated because I'm independent, I have plenty to do. But I miss him.

I'm wondering how it would be if we lived together (which we can't, really, without my worrying about a potential custody suit with the ex). I'm wondering if he'd be irritated by the time I spend on the phone or bemused by my chattiness (and I certainly hope for the latter). I wonder if he'd be lenient with G or if he'd want to actively parent G (which while understandable, raises so many worries in my mind -- conflicts with G, the ex, etc). And I have to remind myself to breathe, relax and take things one step at a time.

And I'm laughing at myself, because who knows what's in store but look at me, I'm missing Drue.

2007 and 'How we met' stories

2007-01-01T14:03:00.000-08:00

Ringing in 2007 was the best experience I've had in a while, as far as New Year's celebrations go. Andy (Drue...Andreas) and I went to Ten Penh with John and Jynessa. I could have skipped dinner at Ten Penh but celebrating at 18th Street Lounge was perfect! From the jazz room (though we missed the live band), to the reggae room to the DJ room, that club just oozed sophistication without being snotty. White orchids graced every table and the candles were plentiful but not overdone. There was an outdoor patio with antique chandeliers strung overhead. Even in the rain, I was in heaven.

Ten Penh, after the other restaurants that we've experienced (Eve, 2941, CitiZen) was quite the disappointment. None of the staff pulled the ladies' chairs out and I have to admit, I really appreciate the restaurants that pay attention to detail. I always heard Ten was a good place to go but I was extremely crabby over the seating arrangements: the tables were so tight that I was constantly getting bumped (and I don't mean mildly) by the waiters and waitresses hovering over the tables behind me. I half expected a beverage cart to take me out, with the amount of physical contact I was getting, and not even so much as an 'Excuse me.'

My meal was cruddy too. Andy saw that they didn't devein my shrimp and if it had been any other night, I would've sent the meal back. But, I imagined the kitchen was overloaded. The waiter never stuck around to ensure that everyone had what they wanted (John had to try to grab our waiter twice) and my dessert was as lackluster as my meal.

But...18th Street Lounge was the best. I don't know how the hell they make their Cosmos, but their mix is one of the best that I've had. We almost didn't get in the door (Andy didn't print the receipt) but the bouncer let us in and the night really took off from there.

Andy seemed happy to see me buzzed (three Cosmos -- I'm a lightweight) and after midnight, we all just bounced around in a foursome-style, manwich: it was all silly fun. I've had the best times with Andy. Everything does seem to work out when I'm with him, from the night exhibition at the Hirshorn (which I'd never seen before last fall), to his trying alternate routes successfully to get me to the Long Beach airport, an hour before my flight, to his planning the perfect New Year's (18th Street). We also saw Jim Webb at Four Sisters in Seven Corners, VA. Whether he realizes it or not, the man seems to have an immense amount of luck, in that most every experience with him is an event.

The only thing that I wish that I had done differently is I'm still a putz when it comes to "How we Met" stories. In those stories, people generally want to hear, in 20 seconds or less, why you love your partner. And I don't have the pat answer. Explaining that Drue's the most intense, amazing lover that I've ever had wouldn't be appropriate (but true). Explaining that I love Drue's passion and politics would be better, but it's got nothing to do with how we met (online). And talking about how I love his blue eyes and wicked mouth is just plain sappy (but, again, true).

After John teased Drue that I was 'slumming,' in dating Drue, Drue made cracks that I would eventually break up with him. If I had been more on the ball, I would've defended my man. I don't love when Drue's quarrelsome (and I have my rough patches too) but I do love and adore him very much. I love that I don't have to be dressed up for him to find me attractive and I love that he writes me beautiful cards. I'm surprised when he talks about being a control freak but he has been relatively good to me. There's not much that I wouldn't do for him. Should be interesting, to see what 2007 brings.

Day After Christmas

2006-12-26T02:21:00.000-08:00

It's my last day off until New Year's and I still can't sleep well. Up by 5:00a.m., it's making me nuts. This time, I don't have the excuse that I'm in CA and adjusting to the time change.

Christmas seemed to go off without a hitch. El and Desi would be an hour late, which irked me given Desi's penchant for promptness. But both the prime rib and the pork stayed warm and tasted moist (some of the last pork portions were dry but given that the table portions were good, I was happy). My mom enjoyed the centerpiece that I ordered from Christopher's but complained that it was too expensive (I downgraded the price by half, but everything is expensive to my mom) and El and Desi were the comical relief during the gift exchange with El obsessively asking folks if they liked their gift and insisting that everyone try their gift on while Desi served as the peanut gallery.

I seem to have this desire to burn the house down since I discovered an unattended candle this morning and last night I forgot to turn off the Christmas tree lights but all is safe and sound.

Drue gets back this evening and I'll be happy to see him, though I imagine he'll be tired after the flight. G and I will have a good portion of the day together and I'm hoping that we can catch a movie.

The Yannotti family remains toxic. G expressed last night that he was a loser and when I probed, he explained that Gary (his cousin) told him so. I'm not sure if Gary was trying to share a manipulation ploy or if he was just being cruel but either way, I wasn't pleased. Gary's 18, so he knows better by now. I explained to G that when people try to hurt you, it's only because they're messed up.

And G's dad continues to insist that names don't hurt. Ha, nice one. Apparently, Junior called G names and G's dad intervened only to lecture G. So I asked G how he felt and when he replied hurt, I nodded. G proposed talking to his dad to explain that names hurt but I suggested that his dad will believe what he wants and that it was most important for G to know that I agreed with him. So we're back to the 'protect yourself' drills: protect your head and your heart.

I always did believe that families are supposed to rally together. The NY family seems to enjoy picking each other apart, it sickens me (and the many stories are not worth going into; the darkness in that family is overwhelming). Drue worries about his family's history and I'm not going to say it's nice but...his family is pretty healthy, considering their responses: nothing was swept under the rug, all the siblings seem pretty honest. By comparison, my dad's siblings have suffered immensely because only his sister seems to want to talk about family skeletons (emotional abuse). Denial is not a great place to be.

I'm sure G thinks I'm a freak with my emphasis on the condition of his heart: is he happy, is he hurt. But I'm terrified of G's dad weakening him, whether it's telling G that he can't do anything (how f#cked up is that) to telling him that being afraid is wrong. But as silly as it seems, I figure you can't be too careful.

It's foggy outside and I hope it burns off quickly. I hate when you can't see clearly.

Yule better

2006-12-25T00:42:00.000-08:00

I thought about and avoided going to Midnight Mass because I wanted to get a decent amount of sleep. But of course, sleep isn't happening. I'm exhausted but apparently too exhausted to sleep well. I read about Matthew Diffee of the New Yorker. And I think, what a cool way to make a living. I wonder how much cartoonists get paid, when you're selling 26 drawings a year. Can't be all bad.

I do wish I was artistically inclined. I can paint a pretty picture with words, if I have to but I'd be lying if I said any attempts to draw were better than mediocre. I think Drue underestimates his talents. He can design, he can sing, his photography is decent and has promise and he can play piano and guitar. I'd be happy for any of those talents. Actually, I'd be happy for sinus meds right now -- I'm enjoying that pick axe to the brain feeling.

Nyquil (which I don't have) is mostly alcohol. And I heard that in casual remarks, a doctor recommended whiskey for when one is sick. So I wonder what healing properties the whiskey or hard liquor is supposed to have. Maybe the fact that you're conked out the remainder of the day.

This would happen when I'm hosting Christmas. And of course, it wouldn't occur to me to buy meds until the point when the stores are closed. Brilliant! I'm grateful that everyone is travelling here since I would cancel the Christmas visit if I had to drive anywhere. Seriously, I'm that...that non-functional.

A neighbor gift-wrapped her door. The shock I'll have if it's a guy that did it. But that doesn't seem like a guy thing to do. I always thought gift wrap on a door looked tacky but the neighbor's job isn't bad.

It's weird, it almost seemed more Christmasy in CA, if that makes any sense. I keep looking for snow here, even though I know it's not happening.

I do have too much time today

2006-12-24T20:10:00.000-08:00

I have way too much time on my hands today. Crazy! Watched local news and today, hate the torture: local teen killed in fire, siblings killed in a car accident and an only son killed in a car accident caused by another driver. So of course, that causes me to worry, but it's all stuff you can't control. What will be, will be.

Almost have the house ready for Christmas (no pressure). Bought new stemware and washed it. Need to iron the tablecloth, but I'll do it tomorrow. Have 2 wines ready to go. I can't drink lately though (sucks). May get a glucometer to check the blood sugar. I like how more information gives me the illusion of control.

Have the big Christmas centerpiece from Maria. Need to visit her (love her). She has such a big heart, always giving you more than what you ask for. Her son is back from Iraq and I was scared to ask: she said he's undergoing the 1st of 2 operations, if I recall correctly. I haven't lived in Kingstowne for 5 years now, almost 6, but they still remember me. Once you find a good florist, like a hairdresser, you stick with 'em.

I like the house, dimly lit, with the Christmas lights...ambiance. I do wish I could have watched some of the Christmas movies with G. Drue's not a Christmas movie guy; but if he hasn't seen It's a Wonderful Life, he doesn't know what he's missing. It doesn't matter that I've seen it before. The film just resonates with the essence of humanity: what makes a person worthwhile. Death, life and love are so prevalent throughout the film, it just fascinates me how timeless the movie is and its honesty amazes me. It's as intense as Citizen Kane albeit without the fancy angles.

G and I didn't even put out milk and cookies for Santa, though with him falling asleep, I wasn't sure that there was much point. Maybe next year. El was right: the amount of entries I have today, I have way too much time. Here's to Christmas.

Oh yeah, because I'm mean

2006-12-24T17:56:00.000-08:00

Because I'm mean, I had to make sure what was behind G's female friends calling him a monster. Seems he would try to play with some of the toys that they laid claim to, at the same time. Still working to teach G to be a gent. But at least he's not being unduly prejudiced by the ex (yet).

We reviewed what it takes to be good to someone you really like. I was thrilled: on his own, G cited 'spect,' the need to listen and 'kiss 'em lots!' God knows, he didn't see me receiving affection during my marriage. Thank God, the kid listens to me too. Phew! Drue and others told me so, but it's still nice to see.

Christmas Eve at the Yannotti Household

2006-12-24T17:12:00.000-08:00

I pass on seeing my sister for Christmas Eve. The ex is dropping G off 2 hours earlier than expected and I have less time to get things done. And they're watching football, which if I had more downtime, wouldn't be bad, but an hour drive on a tight day to watch folks couch-potato isn't my thing today.

I'm supposed to have gotten G the pet shop whatever toy and it's not at Kohl's. I drive to Safeway, where I last saw it and it's not there either. I have that moment of panic where I envision having to spend double for a different toy because I was foolish enough to procrastinate. Thankfully, the toy is at Walmart.

7:00p.m., we are supposed to visit Dave and Dusty. 6:40p.m., G has an accident and I'll now have to clean up G, a dining room chair and the rug. I call Dave and Dusty to reschedule and throw G in the shower, while he evaluates what went wrong with the pull-up.

The pork loin roast that I threw in the oven earlier is a touch dry. It never occurred to me to cross check the temperature recommendations in the recipe. The book say 170 degrees but the Internet says 160 degrees.

I drive G to Shoppers for new pull-ups, pork loin chops and a dessert, just in case the flan I made doesn't turn out. We just make it. We drive down Linden Woods Drive so G can see the lights. He has snowman glasses from Raul and Sarah. As we pull onto our street, I realize that G's asleep. He wakes up as I try to put him in bed and asks to watch cartoons. He promptly falls asleep in front of the TV. Not exactly the Christmas Eve that I envisioned. But, it's still nice to have G in the house. And Foster's has a cool take on Christmas. Just have to clean the dishes from the roast fiasco and I'm done. Ho ho ho.

Corinthians

2006-12-24T06:35:00.000-08:00

http://www.nccbuscc.org/nab/bible/1corinthians/1corinthians13.htm

Because my ex was so popular, I've attended more than my share of weddings. And my eyes used to roll towards the back of my head, because most people picked the reading above to define their love. And it's beautiful, when you really think about what Paul wrote. But I've always wondered, and always will, how many people truly understand the passage.

I won't even pretend to get it. I understand parts of it. I don't know that I can truly say that I'm an adult, since I'll cop to being juvenile most anytime. When I have to play parent with G, then I can say that I work to be mature. But otherwise, I feel frozen between 4 and 14.

When I married my ex, I thought that you didn't have to marry for love, I believed that I was marrying a friend who respected me and I thought that everything would work itself out. Now, I know that I was merely an object for my ex to either abuse or parade around for his friends' admiration. And I do believe that he was never taught what it takes to make a relationship successful.

Hell, I wasn't taught what a good relationship is. But I knew enough that you never, ever, ever argue in front of the kids (as my parents did). If you disagree, you work towards compromise. It seems so clear cut, but I've never had a relationship based on compromise.

With Eton and Eric, there were failed promises. With Tom, I didn't even realize that we were competing with one another, until our relationship changed after I beat him in a fiction contest. And then, it was never the same...ennui. Porter, I thought we had the perfect relationship. But he was holding every disagreeable emotion inside, until he exploded. So after our parents met each other, after he suggested marriage, we walked away. Or he threw tantrums and I told him to stuff it. And now, here's Drue.

I know that I hope for so many things. I want to see our relationship grow and flourish. I love Drue (and his family) and I hope that I can continue to be a part of his life. I hope that he would never ask me to be less than I am. I hope that he would love my son and never speak harshly towards G or me (there's that idealism again). I hope that he would treat us both with dignity and respect. It's been 10.5 beautiful months (1.5 month was rough). I would hope that there's always a way forward and room for compromise.

I always wonder why Drue sought out abusive relationships previously: by his own account, in 2 previous relationships, he was henpecked, to put it kindly. I worry if he'd ever look to overcompensate for that, if he'd seek to be 'the one in charge.' Naive or not, I believe in collaboration. And that's the critical question, can we collaborate together. I'm not seeking to embrace darkness and I think Drue has so many positives. Hopefully, we can enjoy the sunlight together.

I suppose I shall continue to hope for happy endings. In the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea (one of my favorites, ironically), a man creates a woman of his dreams and showers her with adoration. You never see the aftermath, if the 2 of them just bitched at each other until the end of time. But I always want to believe, that they both acknowledged the gift of each other's presence.

http://www.loggia.com/myth/galatea.html

Assuredly, life would be easier if I were less idealistic.

Worm's escape

2006-12-23T19:49:00.000-08:00

Funniest thing: a worm apparently dropped out of the sky, onto my windshield this afternoon. It threw me for a loop, trying to make out the wriggling, writhing line on my windshield. I was pulling into the garage and the only thing that makes sense is that it must've fallen out of a bird's mouth. I wasn't eager to touch a worm, but I didn't want to see it come so far without making it to a decent home. So I scooped it up in a McDonald's cup and put it back in the grass. So miracles do happen (at least for the worm) and there can be happy endings. I am so easily amused.

?

2006-12-23T06:58:00.000-08:00

I woke this morning and realized I slept late for me: it's going on 9:30a.m. I'm usually up by 8 (not by choice but habit). When I went downstairs to make coffee, I watched a bird cavorting in a mud puddle, its own personal bird bath. But the squirrels seemed to have a Hatfields McCoy issue with the bird and chased it off. Then I watched the squirrels, the selfish buggers, play in parallel, 1 tree away from the other. I wonder if I'm like the sqirrels and while, of course, I'm selfish, I would never chase someone off (though I do like having open spaces to myself). Mentally encourage folks to leave, maybe, but that's it.

Strange dream: I was in PR and my ex in-laws were there. And G was supposed to be with me but he was playing with his cousins and no one seemed to care where he was. And I walked a couple of streets down and water was rising, having flooded one street. And when I began climbing back up the street I'd walked upon, I was walking up a pile of semi-dry, semi-wet sand. And lastly, I encountered a man that was so extremely well-defined, in that scary, steroid kind of way, that I stared fascinated as his chest moved in strange machinations. His chest was also covered in a colorful, Aztec looking tattoo.

I'm guessing it all has to do with my fear re: little G. I'm scared that my efforts won't mean anything, scared that my son will be a sociopath, just like his dad (the nice, everyone likes him sociopath documented in The Sociopath Next Door). 2 girls have called little G a monster at school. 1 of them was Eva, a very sweet, strong-willed girl that came to G's party. The 1st Monster comment came from a girl that G liked, but I hadn't met her. My sister says that I'm overreacting. But I'm scared that my ex will encourage my son towards non-accountability. He's 5, you can argue that it doesn't matter, but all I can think is that this is when a kid's most vulnerable. Everything matters. Right in front of me, my ex joked to little G not to have any girl kids. It wasn't funny. I reprimanded Gino in front of G, because old habits die hard and because, what a horrible thing to say!

It hurts, my ex always knew how to hurt me (and my dad made no secret that he preferred boys to girls). And what a coup for him, if he emotionally kills G. Poor G.He'll probably grow up thinking his mom is a basket case (which is a fair statement, I think) and hate women (hopefully not).

I always wonder if my ex-mother -in-law (now deceased) understood, really understood the hatred that ran in her family. She hated her husband and made no secret of it. She and her ex (I really wonder if our divorce spurred her divorce, because it is rather strange to leave someone after 40+ years, when you're dying) fought in front of the kids. As soon as I really comprehended what kind of family I married into and what kind of role models G would encounter (thank you brother Rocco, because you made it crystal clear), I was working on that divorce. And now all the boys in the family say women are crazy. And wouldn't you know, brother Rocco lived in CA most of his adult life. He and TR (youngest and oldest) are the sanest of the bunch.

My former nephew Rocco, I pray he remembers what I taught him: respect is a two-way street. You can't demand what you don't give. I struggled to like his mom, Carol, but it was hard. She's a bible-thumper that changes her tone to suit her actions. She left and returned to her 2nd husband 11 times. She constantly devalued Rocco, in his prescence(nice, motherly love). She didn't work to protect the kids (4 of them). Her spouse threatened to burn down the house with the youngest child in it and she still didn't leave him. Yeah, that's Christian love. But if she's finally left him, good for her.

I'm not a shining example either, and I did need someone else to show me what love is supposed to be like. But I've always cared about protecting kids. Because I was never really protected (which sucks, but that's life) it galls me whenever I see other people value kids so little. I think I would crumple up and die to see the way childhoods are violated by the ethnic hatred in Africa.

Saw Jim Gaffigan last night and love him. I like his bit with the disapproving, Midwestern voice. Cool, cool guy. Have coffee made and need to get the house tidied. Love the holidays.

Rainy day

2006-12-22T07:16:00.000-08:00

Drue gave me the most beautiful card recently and I've been trying to figure out what to do with it. In one sense, I want to frame it but I do like handling it, feeling the note in my hands versus admiring it against a wall.

He summarized everything he likes/loves about me and I love it, needed it and shall treasure it always. Drue is the most expressive of all the men I dated. He doesn't always say the right thing (and I myself, seem pretty adept at sticking my foot in my mouth), but he makes amends and that's what I value most, that he cares what I think and feel.

I think I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that I can't have all the answers, as much as I pine for them. I don't know what will happen to Drue and me, but I still want to believe in the happily ever after. I don't know that I could ever identify as much with someone as I have with Drue.

I'll always wonder about G. It's interesting to me, to see the way people grow up. One friend of mine reminds me of my mom (a bit). She worries, expresses anxiety and wants everything to be perfect (as do I). She's easily exasperated by her mother who had a hands-off, laid back policy towards her kids. Funnily enough, I imagine that I'd like to be like her mother, letting little G make his own decisions when he has his own kids, versus my butting in. And it makes me wonder how G will turn out, if everything will have to be his way or if he'll be laid back. I'd like to believe he'll be laid back, but it's too hard to say right now. Should be interesting.

It's rainy here and in the 50s. If it was colder, we'd have snow. I wanted to take little G skiing after Christmas, but who knows now. Vegetation experts have noted that we have the same climate as NC now. And they say there's no global warming.

Sometimes...

2006-12-21T16:18:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wonder if I'm really meant for this world. I idealize most things, gloss things over and am so uncomfortable with the ugly truths of life. Ugly truths that can't be denied:

Homelessness seems to be a growing problem again, and there don't seem to be enough resources to take care of people -- in CA, abandoned shopping carts accented the streets, silent monuments to their former owners -- here in DC, the homeless have become a little more aggressive, gathering around plaza benches to stake out their homes, loudly soliciting donations and occasionally hurling insults if you don't

The gap between rich and poor also seems worse and it makes me choke when people say the economy's booming, since I don't see it -- there are still folks struggling to recover from Katrina, but you don't hear about them anymore

Death is still our great unifier and I admit, I wanted more of a vacation from it -- two aunts and an uncle are now sick enough to be hospitalized -- a longer vacation from Death's reminders would have been nice.

On a personal level, the struggle to be happy continues. For the most part, I think I am. My parents drive me crazy (my mom still equates control with love; if I loved her -- so she has said-- I would succumb to her every wish). But I am grateful to have them. The boyfriend, still good. His family rocks.

I do wonder if I'm unrealistic. I have this ideal that a healthy relationship entails seeing a person's flaws, but not dwelling on them. You accept what you can and let the other person just be. You treat each other like adults, allow each other your dignity and as disagreements arise, you negotiate around them or wait until you're calm enough to do so. And you delight in each other's company. And as long as the answer is that you're better off with him or her, you stay.

Drue's my favorite guy thus far, since I have the most in common with him. I worry when he's plagued by self-doubt because, what if that unhappiness rolls my way. Fear, that familiar emotion. I hate it and yet, it's gotten me this far. Finding that balance, between happiness and precaution. Is there really such a thing as cautious happiness?

I dream of the day when I can laugh in the wind, all worries fluttering away like red balloons, bopping, bumping, floating further, further away.

Note: G's birthday was Tuesday. My baby, it's true what they say, you grow too fast.

The wedding, the family, the whole shebang

2006-12-18T17:53:00.000-08:00

One of the craziest weddings that I ever attended was a wedding for one of my ex's friends. Both the bride and groom were Air Force Academy grads, the bride wore chain mail, the bridal procession walked down the aisle to the theme of Star Trek and when it was time to cut the cake, the bride and groom engaged in a full-on cake fight (it was also one of the better weddings that I've attended). This CA wedding was hardly like that. But it was one of the best weddings that I've ever attended.

The bride spoke of love and service, which was a huge surprise. Everyone talks about love but Dani was the first person I've ever seen to mention service, whether it's serving your friends, serving the community or all of the above. She also spoke of accepting her new husband's darkness which again was a surprise. How many of us can say that we truly love and accept our partner's dark side? Which goes to show that Jaymee and Danielle have a mature love, accepting each other's baggage. Murphy's Law, Jaymee's voice is lower so I couldn't hear his vows. But Jaymee and Danielle are a good example of people that are aware, which is inspiring.

I always want to know 'the secret' whether it's for life or the pursuit of happiness. And the advice varies. I think I've settled upon the informal, though not always advised, live for no regrets philosophy. I've done some stupid things, but overall, I don't believe that I have too many regrets. Most relationships I've had, have been enriching in one way or another. Even my marriage (a good example of what not to do: don't rush, look for flags and look closely at the person versus who he surrounds himself with) yielded little G, so I've come away for the better.

Drue, is the 1st guy where I don't have it all figured out (beforehand). I want to believe in happily ever after and I do for the most part. On days, when I don't want to be presumptious, I know that we've shared enough adventures for me to be thankful for knowing him and I've met his family now. It's funny to see the differences between his family and the ex's family. Ex's family: very blue collar, no exposure to the arts. Drue's family: occupations vary from blue collar to white collar but everyone has some form of artistic interest and expression. Both large families (Drue's family is smaller by 1 kid) but the tempo seems the same: keep up if you can.

I like Drue's mother, I like his whole family whereas with the ex's family, sometimes it was a struggle. Drue's mom is pretty opinionated and honest which is refreshing. His brothers are funny and charming and while I wasn't witness to the terrors that they visited upon their youngest brother, for the most part, they seem more laid back than I would've expected. I didn't get a chance to speak to Drue's oldest sister but she seemed nice enough (let's face it; I'm more of a social slug now after the whirlwind years with the ex) and Drue's younger sister is vivacious, beautiful...a maven and a connector. It was nice to met the people that helped shape Drue and his experiences.

This CA trip was one of the best that I've had too. My ulcer merely threatened rather than a full-on episode (probably because I wasn't visiting my family) and Drue showed me the Farmer's Market, Alivera Street (sic?) and the Grove, none of which I'd seen before. We ended the night in Santa Monica which was a decent end to a good day. The Promenade in Santa Monica probably was my favorite portion of the tour, thanks to the blue palm tree lights and the live performers: men dancing the Hannukah celebratory dance and two guitarists covering Eddie Van Halen's Spanish guitar arrangements. My feet felt like bloody nubs but it was a minor irritant considering the day in its entirety. I feel like I could follow Drue anywhere. It was a beautiful trip.

This morning, I packed and I was ready to go. But I noticed between last night and this morning, how Drue's smile is luminescent. And I can get along without him, but...I'm much happier when I hear his voice. I can still fee his touch (the cynic has to give up her title; she's getting corny) and I'll be looking forward to his return.

Maybe (an atonement)

2006-12-11T20:04:00.000-08:00

Maybe I was unfair. Drue hated my blog. But it is my blog, my little soapbox. I hardly promised to be fair :) (kidding, kidding). If I hated Drue, I wouldn't be with him. I chafe at his sugestions but I'm not opposed to pleasing him. But of the many ways that I love and adore him:

I think he's incredibly talented and have decided that he's a Renaissance man since he can play piano/keyboards quite well, write decent poetry, and sing (when the rare occasion moves him) and I like his photography

He's quite soulful and he listens in ways I don't always expect

He took me on the Staten Island ferry (one of my fonder memories from when I was little) even though it was inconvenient and even though I downplayed its importance

When we went to NY, he took me to Ground Zero despite the fact that he's been 3 or 4 times (meantime, I begged off showing him the Holocaust museum 1 month earlier, for the same reason)

I love his thirst for adventure

I respect his refusal to be complacent

Since I am oblivious when the TV's on and am not particular about making myself comfortable, I marvel that he finds ways to make me even more comfortable, the way he rolled a sweatshirt up against the crook of his arm to improvise a perfect pillow

His impromptu customized CDs make me feel special and cherished

His smarts are formidable and talking with Drue is like riding in a Porsche -- 1st guy that I've clicked on all cylinders with, which scares me no end

Kasalta, PR will always be one of my favorite moments -- the two of us and the open road, with coffee and these crazy marzipan candies that Drue selected for us (something I never would have thought of)

His blue eyes are mesmerizing and I love his sardonic smile.

I've been in the driver's seat of virtually all my relationships (excluding my marriage) and I do struggle to make sense of my time with Drue. I love him and I don't anticipate wanting to be with anyone else. It can't be cake and roses all the time, but I do know that when he's willing, I have the best times with Drue.

Anniversary Note

2006-12-10T14:42:00.000-08:00

I should add that Drue and I had a beautiful anniversary celebration. We went to Komi and I actually remembered what I ate -- shocking! The meal started with pickled olives (worst I ever had) but improved from there. The amuse bouchee included tuna tartare with phyllo squares, quite delectable. The pasta dish was tagliatelle with boar, apple and chopped mint -- amazing. The meat dish was marinated goat. The goat I had in DR was fabulous and this goat was right up there, yummy, not too salty. Dessert was the kicker: Greek donuts (light fried dough with a touch of Sambuka) and to die for chocolate and mascarpone pudding. I would love to recreate the pudding if possible. Drue has raised my eating standards. He is one of a kind.

Control and Happiness

2006-12-10T13:33:00.000-08:00

I would be a lot happier if I knew that I could control more things: not overly so, but it'd be nice to know that there could be more happy endings; it'd be nice to know that there didn't have to be too much pain. Of course, maybe life would be a lot more boring, but sometimes, you just wish for more happy endings.

This is the week that I meet Drue's family (for his nephew's wedding). I should be excited, but it all seems anti-climactic. Drue has expressed concerns about work enough (DC doesn't seem like a design capital) that I wouldn't be surprised if he left for greener pastures.

In a lot of ways, Drue seems like he was made to order for me. He's smart, he's funny...he's passionate about politics, he loves the arts, he loves good food. Sensually, he rivals my desires, wants and needs. But he's not much of a kid at heart (hardly at all) and he makes clear enough the ten million ways he'd like to remake me.

It's God's joke or Eric's revenge: Eric was physically perfect with brown curly hair, brown eyes, killer teeth and a killer smile (and the beloved size 32 waist). I fretted that our relationship was too physical, but the reality is that he's the only man that told me that he wanted to have little Michelles and Erics running around and he's one of two men that accepted me the way I am. As time goes on, I think I really fucked up, not looking him up after college.

Eton too: light curly brown hair, hazel eyes (my favorite) and he swore that I was the one for him. I'll always wonder, what it would be like to run into him again, him and his little girl and me and little G. Instead, Drue fits the bill but I'm tired of hearing how I don't satisfy his designer needs or whatever the hell you want to call it.

It's like I've been an interloper in his life and he's merely looking to resume his previous life with his ex, his little fashionista. Three weeks ago, he called me by her name, which didn't bug me at the time. Last night, he gazed wistfully at some frozen dinner garbage and mentioned that his ex ate that stuff. Perhaps they'll reunite when he spends the night at her place and they can spend the rest of their lives together, remaking the other.

I think I've hit the 'Fuck it," portion of my life. I didn't have enough faith to wait for someone who 'loved' me to get married. My parents are from another time and place where they believe it's better to be married before you're 30. Why I gave in to that pressure, I'll never know. It was a bad choice. But I have G now and I'm grateful. Of course, for all the guys that turn their nose up at my having a kid, you'd think having a kid is akin to having the plague. Hard to believe in the coming weeks to 2007.

I think it matters less to have someone smart and politically passionate than someone who accepts me. So maybe I was too harsh towards Eric and Eton. Drue's still a good guy, but I don't think it could be any clearer that he's not made for the DC area. He'll always be CA guy to me. Whatever happens should be interesting.

I wish

2006-12-07T19:05:00.000-08:00

I wish so many things. It's pretty outside: near full moon and there's a dusting of snow. And I wish so many things. I wish that I was braver. I wish that I didn't worry so much. And I wish that I was less of a coward. I rolled my car, years ago and walked away from it. And I wasn't scared then. Exhilarated, emotional, shocked. But not scared.

I've jumped out of a plane. And I was scared then. But the adrenaline was amazing. Took me half a day to calm down but it was the best emotional high I've ever had (besides G being born). And scuba diving: my biggest worry was that I wouldn't get to dive, it took my sinuses forever to clear. And I wasn't scared then.

Each year, I'm supposed to be a little wiser (you would think), but it just feels like there are new worries. The death thing has me really freaked out. George Yee went from reasonably healthy to terminally ill in 8 days. 8 days. Grace's mom was young, beautiful and had good health habits. Both she and George actually. And they were the first to go. It gets so that you almost don't want the phone to ring, if the phone will herald more bad news about someone else.

My parents are older. My mom is in her 70s. I thought El and I would be the ones dealing with death first (not that I wish it; it's just what I imagined). Instead, cancer has taken the young ones and I'm terrified. I want there to be guarantees. I want to believe that there are right answers. I know there aren't but I did think that you could reasonably keep death at bay. I don't know why the hell I thought that, but I just really wanted to believe it.

I honestly have difficulty imagining myself living past 50. I'd like to. I'd like to see G form his own family, see him prosper. But my family history's not too hot in the cancer arena. Breast cancer, big check. Ovarian, check. And that lovely ulcer -- throat cancer, check check. Funny, considering I'm not a regular cigarette smoker.

And when it comes to life, how do you measure whether you've spent your time wisely? I can't imagine something too different from It's a Wonderful Life, as cheesy as that is. What a great movie though. I'm just a humongous ball of cowardice, overall. I hate when the elements are unknown. I love the thought of scuba diving, because the chances are that if you stay calm, you see a whole new world and it gives you the illusion of control.

I do wish that I could be more of a free spirit. But it's not really who I am. I like the illusion of control. I haven't accepted death as a process of life (even though I know it is). And I'm terrified, stone cold terrified. And I wish I wasn't.

I love riding on motorcycles (as the passenger) but I'm scared to death that I'd wreck on my own. Yet, as the passenger, I don't really care. I'd care if I wrecked, but it's the driver's worry, not mine. And that's the story of my life, fighting the urge to worry.

Yoga, I'll have to try yoga. But I've said that for a year and I haven't. Maybe because I'm afraid that I'll like it!