I need to buy a new computer & stop mooching off of J's.
Anyway, I've been thinking a lot lately how little I pay attention to my surroundings. I am well known for being oblivious among my friends & family (particularly compared to J, who notices EVERYTHING). J will say, 'Did you notice that I threw away the carpet in our basement?' I will inevitably respond, 'No.' He will say, 'But our basement has no carpet anymore. And there is a mountain of carpet sitting on the curb outside of our house.' Me: 'I didn't notice it was gone. And I didn't notice it sitting on the curb.'
One side of me thinks, 'Who cares? It was sh*tty carpet. What's the diff?' But the other side of me finds this sad. Bc it extends to not remembering much at all. Like, when I was young, I noticed everything. And therefore I remember the littlest things about my dad's house(s), my mom's house(s), and our shore house. And even things about vacations. But I remember almost nothing about any place I've lived since I was 18. I wonder if I smoked away my ability to notice things? :)
Oh well. It seems to simplify my life at the very least.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Reality
Ya know how some people make those inspiration boards (I think this is what they are called) for event like parties, weddings, seasons- etc... to either convey what they think of with regard to this event OR to inspire them when it comes to decorating or party planning. Whatever. You catch my drift.
Well I came across a BUNCH lately- one of my old college roomies is engaged and wedding planning and on her website has MANY collages that detail how she wants her wedding to appear.
So while I'm not going to take the time to figure out how she made it professional looking, I figure I'd combine a few pictures to represent what my spring/summer has been like:
It has NOT been like this:


But it HAS been THIS:



Fun in the sun, right? Heh. I'm pretty d*mn sure a lot of people's summers look just like mine. If yours does not, then I hope that you, my friend, are enjoying it. Because we all wish we were you. :)
Well I came across a BUNCH lately- one of my old college roomies is engaged and wedding planning and on her website has MANY collages that detail how she wants her wedding to appear.
So while I'm not going to take the time to figure out how she made it professional looking, I figure I'd combine a few pictures to represent what my spring/summer has been like:
It has NOT been like this:


But it HAS been THIS:


Fun in the sun, right? Heh. I'm pretty d*mn sure a lot of people's summers look just like mine. If yours does not, then I hope that you, my friend, are enjoying it. Because we all wish we were you. :)
Saturday, July 17, 2010
EvilSIL and Her Good Qualities
Today whilst dying my hair, I was thinking about how I use this blog to vent. I decided that, as my toenails dry (I finally freaking painted them!) & as my teeth whiten (via Crest WhiteStrips), I will tell you all the GOOD things about EvilSIL (J's sister). Disclaimer: I am bad at interpreting when a good deed with bad intentions is occurring. Typically J chimes in to let me know that what is happening is a manipulative tactic.
1. She really, really, really loves J & her parents. To the extent that when she thinks J is angry with her, she cries real tears and feels more anguish than I do when any person in this world is mad at me. I blow it off as drama, but I need to realize that, despite whether I feel her sorrow is justified, it is genuine. She feels distress and sadness at these times.
2. She just wants to please her parents. She wants them to be proud of her. (I cannot relate to this desire AT ALL. I love my parents, but I don't give a hoot about their approval. If my mom was like, "You're dressed like a bum!" I would respond, "YOU are dressed like an old lady!" (this convo has happened on many occasions) and never think twice about it. And neither of us would walk away upset. No grudges or hard feelings).
3. She just wants to be married and have babies. And is hasn't happened for her yet. (But she doesn't try to meet anyone. See? Here I go again with my refusal to just be accepting of her).
4. She has great hair. It's so nice and dark.
5. She has nice nails.
6. She TRIES to get along with people, but she just fails. She is clueless as to WHY she has struggles with this. I think this is a genetic trait (or learned trait) from MIL. (Dear Lord, please tell me that Baby Monkey does not have this trait).
7. She is an extravagant giver of gifts. She spends so much time thinking about what people want for Xmas, spending a great deal of money, wrapping the gifts with such care. It is truly good will. She spends way more than she can afford. To my DIScredit, I never even THINK of gifts til the last minute. And rarely are they wrapped. And if they are wrapped, it's because J did it. I know that I need to make a conscious effort to try to be more generous and to realize where and when I am not being generous.
8. She flew in from the midwest to attend my bridal shower. She was really kind to my grandmother and my mom. And my nephew. She was also very generous with regard to thinking about my little Monkey.
9. She has an excellent work-ethic. She works very hard at her job.
10. I don't know how she truly feels about me. And even though we usually end up in an awkward conversation that doesn't feel friendly, it seems as though she enters into our conversations with good intentions.
1. She really, really, really loves J & her parents. To the extent that when she thinks J is angry with her, she cries real tears and feels more anguish than I do when any person in this world is mad at me. I blow it off as drama, but I need to realize that, despite whether I feel her sorrow is justified, it is genuine. She feels distress and sadness at these times.
2. She just wants to please her parents. She wants them to be proud of her. (I cannot relate to this desire AT ALL. I love my parents, but I don't give a hoot about their approval. If my mom was like, "You're dressed like a bum!" I would respond, "YOU are dressed like an old lady!" (this convo has happened on many occasions) and never think twice about it. And neither of us would walk away upset. No grudges or hard feelings).
3. She just wants to be married and have babies. And is hasn't happened for her yet. (But she doesn't try to meet anyone. See? Here I go again with my refusal to just be accepting of her).
4. She has great hair. It's so nice and dark.
5. She has nice nails.
6. She TRIES to get along with people, but she just fails. She is clueless as to WHY she has struggles with this. I think this is a genetic trait (or learned trait) from MIL. (Dear Lord, please tell me that Baby Monkey does not have this trait).
7. She is an extravagant giver of gifts. She spends so much time thinking about what people want for Xmas, spending a great deal of money, wrapping the gifts with such care. It is truly good will. She spends way more than she can afford. To my DIScredit, I never even THINK of gifts til the last minute. And rarely are they wrapped. And if they are wrapped, it's because J did it. I know that I need to make a conscious effort to try to be more generous and to realize where and when I am not being generous.
8. She flew in from the midwest to attend my bridal shower. She was really kind to my grandmother and my mom. And my nephew. She was also very generous with regard to thinking about my little Monkey.
9. She has an excellent work-ethic. She works very hard at her job.
10. I don't know how she truly feels about me. And even though we usually end up in an awkward conversation that doesn't feel friendly, it seems as though she enters into our conversations with good intentions.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
The Joys of Home Ownership
Yesterday it rained. So much rain, in fact, that our basement flooded. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!
Before we discovered the sopping wet basement, I let the hounds out back. To my delight, I realized that the world's heaviest and largest tree branch fell directly in the center of our yard. We all know how I feel about those d*mn dogs- the mere idea that they might possibly have been in danger at any point drives me to tears! So we called a tree guy to finish taking down the sh*tty branches in the tree. And then I gave Hannie & Louie tons and tons of hugs.
But I think we all secretly know what will happen.... We all know that the tree guy will tell us that the tree is diseased and needs to be taken down. J& I do not have good homeowner's luck. I'm cool with it, though. It just sucks a fat one that enormous tree removal costs in the thousands. I will pay $3.5 thousand for a gaping hole in our already fugly backyard (fugly bc J accidentally killed a ton of grass last fall by raking the leaves in piles and then letting them sit for a few days-- what can I say? We're both learning.).
Clothing Crisis- V-neck and dresses that are like kind of wrap dresses across the chest- apparently this is all I used to wear as a non-mom. I have no issues with wearing such clothing as a mom, but my miniature ball & chain (Monkey) likes to pull down my shirts either with her hands (and we all know I haven't breastfed this little beast in like 5 months) or the weight of her body on my hip. I'll look down and my very small boob is like popping out. Remember I vented about how I hated my big boobs and wished for my small ones back? Be careful what you wish for, kids. Be careful for what you wish. Indeed.
And lastly, happy 6 month birthday (and 1 day) to my dear, dear daughter. She has sprung a solitary tooth, which I get a kick out of just staring at & thinking, 'I grew something that has grown teeth!' Yet another cheap thrill. And she's so big now. She has a sense of humor, chubby thighs, and a big barrel belly. When she sees me at daycare she literally cheers and then gives me the biggest hug.
Did I tell you at a picnic last week what my little brother's wife said to me? (This is the crazy biotch who lies all the time). She just got a job bc they were sadly in some serious financial trouble, etc... As a working mother, I was concerned for her emotional well being (genuinely), as I know how hard it is to leave your little tot for 8 hrs a day. Wanna know what she said to me?
Brother wife: "It's okay. I'm not having any more kids, though."
Me: "NO?? Why not?"
Brother's wife: "Bc [son's name] is in daycare. And I don't want to be the type of mother who puts her children in daycare."
Silence.
FOR REAL, MOTHER F*CKER? She did not then try to qualify her statement, retract it, or apologize in any way. Nothing. I've never been so caught off guard in my life.
I responded: "Well, some people don't have a choice."
Brother's wife: "Oh, I know."
Part of me wishes I said something like, 'Well I never wanted to be the type of mother who dresses like white trash. And, thankfully, I'm not- which is more than I can say for you.' And then got up and walked away.
But I tried to focus on WHY I felt so angry, and the only reason I was angry is because I am sensitive about having to put Monkey in daycare. I hate it. I miss her all day long and I feel a great deal of guilt about it. If she wasn't in daycare, I'd probably feel guilty about her lack of socialization or something. I'm coming to learn that guilt is just the name of the game. And I've concluded that motherhood truly is hard enough and the last thing that I would EVER do is try to make another mother feel BAD about her decisions. It is only when I rationally think thoroughly about my decisions that I am able to feel at peace with the current arrangement. And when I feel this peace, I no longer feel angry with her about her statement. She's just overcompensating for something in the same way that I would be if I blew up at her and called her white trash. Which she is. Zing!
Love,
Me
Before we discovered the sopping wet basement, I let the hounds out back. To my delight, I realized that the world's heaviest and largest tree branch fell directly in the center of our yard. We all know how I feel about those d*mn dogs- the mere idea that they might possibly have been in danger at any point drives me to tears! So we called a tree guy to finish taking down the sh*tty branches in the tree. And then I gave Hannie & Louie tons and tons of hugs.
But I think we all secretly know what will happen.... We all know that the tree guy will tell us that the tree is diseased and needs to be taken down. J& I do not have good homeowner's luck. I'm cool with it, though. It just sucks a fat one that enormous tree removal costs in the thousands. I will pay $3.5 thousand for a gaping hole in our already fugly backyard (fugly bc J accidentally killed a ton of grass last fall by raking the leaves in piles and then letting them sit for a few days-- what can I say? We're both learning.).
Clothing Crisis- V-neck and dresses that are like kind of wrap dresses across the chest- apparently this is all I used to wear as a non-mom. I have no issues with wearing such clothing as a mom, but my miniature ball & chain (Monkey) likes to pull down my shirts either with her hands (and we all know I haven't breastfed this little beast in like 5 months) or the weight of her body on my hip. I'll look down and my very small boob is like popping out. Remember I vented about how I hated my big boobs and wished for my small ones back? Be careful what you wish for, kids. Be careful for what you wish. Indeed.
And lastly, happy 6 month birthday (and 1 day) to my dear, dear daughter. She has sprung a solitary tooth, which I get a kick out of just staring at & thinking, 'I grew something that has grown teeth!' Yet another cheap thrill. And she's so big now. She has a sense of humor, chubby thighs, and a big barrel belly. When she sees me at daycare she literally cheers and then gives me the biggest hug.
Did I tell you at a picnic last week what my little brother's wife said to me? (This is the crazy biotch who lies all the time). She just got a job bc they were sadly in some serious financial trouble, etc... As a working mother, I was concerned for her emotional well being (genuinely), as I know how hard it is to leave your little tot for 8 hrs a day. Wanna know what she said to me?
Brother wife: "It's okay. I'm not having any more kids, though."
Me: "NO?? Why not?"
Brother's wife: "Bc [son's name] is in daycare. And I don't want to be the type of mother who puts her children in daycare."
Silence.
FOR REAL, MOTHER F*CKER? She did not then try to qualify her statement, retract it, or apologize in any way. Nothing. I've never been so caught off guard in my life.
I responded: "Well, some people don't have a choice."
Brother's wife: "Oh, I know."
Part of me wishes I said something like, 'Well I never wanted to be the type of mother who dresses like white trash. And, thankfully, I'm not- which is more than I can say for you.' And then got up and walked away.
But I tried to focus on WHY I felt so angry, and the only reason I was angry is because I am sensitive about having to put Monkey in daycare. I hate it. I miss her all day long and I feel a great deal of guilt about it. If she wasn't in daycare, I'd probably feel guilty about her lack of socialization or something. I'm coming to learn that guilt is just the name of the game. And I've concluded that motherhood truly is hard enough and the last thing that I would EVER do is try to make another mother feel BAD about her decisions. It is only when I rationally think thoroughly about my decisions that I am able to feel at peace with the current arrangement. And when I feel this peace, I no longer feel angry with her about her statement. She's just overcompensating for something in the same way that I would be if I blew up at her and called her white trash. Which she is. Zing!
Love,
Me
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Furniture
I should be working right now.
I can't wait to get a new computer and I can post pics of my newly furnished house. I'm still not done buying stuff, but I have to start spacing out my purchases bc J is starting to sweat bullets of anxiety about my spending. He doesn't part well with the ole' dollar. Unfortunately for him, I part very well with it.
So to compromise, I've been purchasing cheaper furniture with more expensive furniture (expensive being pottery barn, as opposed to Ethan Allen, etc..). But the prob w cheap furniture is that you have to put it together yourself. So I always start these projects thinking, "I will surprise J with my ability to put together furniture." But then the part of the instructions comes where using a tool or a screwdriver is necessary. I grab the screwdriver (I even attempted the power drill, but luckily for my furniture's sake, I was unable to get the little metal screw part to stay in the power drill part). Then I attempt to assemble. OPERATION FAIL. For the life of me, I cannot assemble furniture. Then J gets home from work, exhausted and stressed & sees me sitting amongst a pile of half assembled furniture that he did not know that I ordered. Surprise! He gets to spend the evening assembling sh*tty furniture! Who wouldn't be delighted?
J. That's who.
So I go upstairs while J curses the furniture and the world. He tells me not to buy anymore sh*tty furniture, etc.. but we all know that I will continue to do what I want and pretend I didn't know what he meant.
But the end result is always pretty freaking cute. And our house is finally starting to look lived in.
Furniture - even cheap furniture- is expensive!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I can't wait to get a new computer and I can post pics of my newly furnished house. I'm still not done buying stuff, but I have to start spacing out my purchases bc J is starting to sweat bullets of anxiety about my spending. He doesn't part well with the ole' dollar. Unfortunately for him, I part very well with it.
So to compromise, I've been purchasing cheaper furniture with more expensive furniture (expensive being pottery barn, as opposed to Ethan Allen, etc..). But the prob w cheap furniture is that you have to put it together yourself. So I always start these projects thinking, "I will surprise J with my ability to put together furniture." But then the part of the instructions comes where using a tool or a screwdriver is necessary. I grab the screwdriver (I even attempted the power drill, but luckily for my furniture's sake, I was unable to get the little metal screw part to stay in the power drill part). Then I attempt to assemble. OPERATION FAIL. For the life of me, I cannot assemble furniture. Then J gets home from work, exhausted and stressed & sees me sitting amongst a pile of half assembled furniture that he did not know that I ordered. Surprise! He gets to spend the evening assembling sh*tty furniture! Who wouldn't be delighted?
J. That's who.
So I go upstairs while J curses the furniture and the world. He tells me not to buy anymore sh*tty furniture, etc.. but we all know that I will continue to do what I want and pretend I didn't know what he meant.
But the end result is always pretty freaking cute. And our house is finally starting to look lived in.
Furniture - even cheap furniture- is expensive!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, July 9, 2010
Neverland
My old college friend and roommate from NYC (T) drove through my little city today en route to camp on some beach.
What never ceases to amaze me is how nobody changes in NYC. At least not my friends. They are all doing exactly the same thing, down to pre-gaming at the same house in the same style and then rushing out at the same bar at around 345 & only making it to last call, then continuing to celebrate absolutely nothing until the sun rises (I never made it that far, btw). I'm not criticizing them.
I was 22. I remember D (male roommate #1) insisted each night (we went out every night) on being in charge of music (he's always been into this local underground hip hop scene). I would always wear this super short fluffy red skirt (It reminded me of minnie mouse & had tulle underneath it), a fitted white v-neck t-shirt, and mid-calf cowboy boots. WHAT A WHORE, RIGHT????? Ha! Anyway, the second our songs would come on, T & I would dash to the living room to dance on the coffee table. To be honest, I'd probably still rock the outfit & dance on the table if given the chance and the appropriate amount of alcohol. Then I'd wonder if I was still allowed to do this even though I had a baby. But either way, my environment is just different, I'm not.
Despite the fun, I was inexplicably worried & depressed, as I mentioned on this wee blog before. I think I was afraid that I was stuck in that place & would be forever. But I wasn't. I just left and everything was different. New York is like Neverland, and it wasn't for me after awhile. I knew I wanted to have different experiences.
So anyway, at lunch I felt like the token boring friend. They asked me if I could get them some shrooms. For real, dude? Look at me. I know daycare instructors, veterinarians & attorneys. Oh, and in-laws. MIL may have a sh*t ton of gin you can have, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that she finished the last of her mushrooms this morning.
Anyway, off to hang with my best gal.
What never ceases to amaze me is how nobody changes in NYC. At least not my friends. They are all doing exactly the same thing, down to pre-gaming at the same house in the same style and then rushing out at the same bar at around 345 & only making it to last call, then continuing to celebrate absolutely nothing until the sun rises (I never made it that far, btw). I'm not criticizing them.
I was 22. I remember D (male roommate #1) insisted each night (we went out every night) on being in charge of music (he's always been into this local underground hip hop scene). I would always wear this super short fluffy red skirt (It reminded me of minnie mouse & had tulle underneath it), a fitted white v-neck t-shirt, and mid-calf cowboy boots. WHAT A WHORE, RIGHT????? Ha! Anyway, the second our songs would come on, T & I would dash to the living room to dance on the coffee table. To be honest, I'd probably still rock the outfit & dance on the table if given the chance and the appropriate amount of alcohol. Then I'd wonder if I was still allowed to do this even though I had a baby. But either way, my environment is just different, I'm not.
Despite the fun, I was inexplicably worried & depressed, as I mentioned on this wee blog before. I think I was afraid that I was stuck in that place & would be forever. But I wasn't. I just left and everything was different. New York is like Neverland, and it wasn't for me after awhile. I knew I wanted to have different experiences.
So anyway, at lunch I felt like the token boring friend. They asked me if I could get them some shrooms. For real, dude? Look at me. I know daycare instructors, veterinarians & attorneys. Oh, and in-laws. MIL may have a sh*t ton of gin you can have, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that she finished the last of her mushrooms this morning.
Anyway, off to hang with my best gal.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Back on the Horse
I'd like to report that I seemed to have re-located my sh*t. I talked to J and after I convinced him that I should NOT quit my job, we reasoned the Monkey should be rolling over soon anyway. SO if we can just convince them to keep her on her back until then... we're good.
We also decided that with the next kid, I'm doing a 3 month paid mat leave & then taking an extra 2-3 months unpaid personal leave since we don't want to put such a young child in daycare (and since MIL is useless).
We also decided that with the next kid, I'm doing a 3 month paid mat leave & then taking an extra 2-3 months unpaid personal leave since we don't want to put such a young child in daycare (and since MIL is useless).
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Warning: More self-pity.
After an uneventful morning & all the attorneys in my practice group (in my office) on vacation, I left work early to pick up Monkey at daycare (after telling my secretary to contact me if anyone dropped by my office and that I'd be checking my Blackberry). Blissful, happy & unfortunately oblivious, was I.
At the daycare: I roll in and see a look of uneasy "almost-panic" on the worker's faces. "She's in her crib napping," Jenna informs me. I walk over to the crib and there is my dear daughter sleeping ON HER STOMACH with a BLANKET.
2 HUGE no-nos in my book. I know many advocates of stomach sleeping and most of my friends w kids allow their children to have blankets. That's fine. But come on, I'm open about my anxiety issues. As I type this I feel like I'm going to throw up. I have written countless emails to them about no blankets. And stomach sleeping?? FOR REAL? They know I'm averse to this as well. The director (whom I love and had a mini crush on, remember? (The crush is gone, btw.)) was like, "It was so cold in here, I put the blanket on her. We were watching her the whole time, blah blah blah." I was super nice about it because while ultimately I am probably a confrontational person, I am not confrontational at first. I am polite, think about it, mull over it, then confront. Needless to say. This ruined my f*cking day.
But how did I console myself? With the knowledge of a long weekend. I thought, "Well, I will use these next 4 days with my baby to work on her tummy time so that when they DO place her on her stomach to sleep against my wishes, she'll be prepared for it and not suffocate and die."
Then I received the dreaded email. I won't bore you with the really f*cking boring details that comprise my job, but it basically asked me if I will help draft a bunch of sh*t that needs to be done by WEDNESDAY. Know what this means? Bye-bye baby's first 4th of July and fireworks w my grandma. Bye bye teaching her how to use neck strength. Tomorrow I'm basically sending her to the guillotine to suffocate to death so I can draft some stupid merger agreement for 2 companies that nobody gives a sh*t about. It's hilarious bc they're like, 'How would you feel about assisting us with a fascinating merger?'
Oh, hold on. Did you just use the word "fascinating" and "merger" in the same sentence? HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA
"Why, sure, I would love to assist you. Please feel free to contact me at your convenience."
WOE IS ME. I'm literally tearing up with self-pity (and guilt bc apparently I send my daughter every day to risk her life during nap time).
But, hey! At least I have a job in this sh*tty economy and get paid well. Life is such a b*tch.
At the daycare: I roll in and see a look of uneasy "almost-panic" on the worker's faces. "She's in her crib napping," Jenna informs me. I walk over to the crib and there is my dear daughter sleeping ON HER STOMACH with a BLANKET.
2 HUGE no-nos in my book. I know many advocates of stomach sleeping and most of my friends w kids allow their children to have blankets. That's fine. But come on, I'm open about my anxiety issues. As I type this I feel like I'm going to throw up. I have written countless emails to them about no blankets. And stomach sleeping?? FOR REAL? They know I'm averse to this as well. The director (whom I love and had a mini crush on, remember? (The crush is gone, btw.)) was like, "It was so cold in here, I put the blanket on her. We were watching her the whole time, blah blah blah." I was super nice about it because while ultimately I am probably a confrontational person, I am not confrontational at first. I am polite, think about it, mull over it, then confront. Needless to say. This ruined my f*cking day.
But how did I console myself? With the knowledge of a long weekend. I thought, "Well, I will use these next 4 days with my baby to work on her tummy time so that when they DO place her on her stomach to sleep against my wishes, she'll be prepared for it and not suffocate and die."
Then I received the dreaded email. I won't bore you with the really f*cking boring details that comprise my job, but it basically asked me if I will help draft a bunch of sh*t that needs to be done by WEDNESDAY. Know what this means? Bye-bye baby's first 4th of July and fireworks w my grandma. Bye bye teaching her how to use neck strength. Tomorrow I'm basically sending her to the guillotine to suffocate to death so I can draft some stupid merger agreement for 2 companies that nobody gives a sh*t about. It's hilarious bc they're like, 'How would you feel about assisting us with a fascinating merger?'
Oh, hold on. Did you just use the word "fascinating" and "merger" in the same sentence? HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA
"Why, sure, I would love to assist you. Please feel free to contact me at your convenience."
WOE IS ME. I'm literally tearing up with self-pity (and guilt bc apparently I send my daughter every day to risk her life during nap time).
But, hey! At least I have a job in this sh*tty economy and get paid well. Life is such a b*tch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
