NYC... again

My mom drove down yesterday to babysit Monkey while I ran some errands. I was able to hit up Target & the post office... just in time for yet another snow storm. DUDE. When she left I was overcome with sadness.

The photo above was taken in I believe early 2004. I lived in this E. Village apt during my last 2 semesters in college in NYC. I'm sure my friend (who doesn't know this blog exists) would love to know her face is posted online. Actually.. she probably would. She was a theater major. Anyway, I always loved her dark hair.

This was a 2 bedroom apt. I shared a bed w my friend, T (not pictured... if you recall, she's the one who hit a bowl in her bra through airport security on the way home from our roadtrip to St. Louis: http://negativemaiden.blogspot.com/2009/07/st-louis.html). It was DEFINITELY a huge party place & that got old for me really quick. One night I woke up & she was propped up on one arm, staring and me, & lovingly stroking my cheek. The next morning she had no recollection of this incident.

The summer was fun, though. I was an assistant at a law firm & I would work late a bunch. In retrospect, this lawyer was kind of a creep but I needed a job. My rent was like a billion dollars. When I'd come home at like 10pm, my apt would already be filled w all our friends. I got a standing ovation when I walked in- bc everyone was already trashed. Derek (our token male roommate from Minnesota) would have shots lined up, ready for me to take. We always went to this bar that I hated in the Lower East Side. It was jam packed with alternative types and there was graffiti all over the walls. Derek would bring his graffiti markers & "tag" buildings & stuff on our walk to the bar.

I remember I loved taking the subway in the summer.

I'll write more about the creepy lawyer I worked for in a bit.

Ghost Story

Last night I received, as a gift from my offspring, 5 consecutive hours of sleep! Monkey woke up, drank her bottle & passed back out for another 3 hours. And then another 2. So, I'm well rested & since she's still asleep- I figured I'd try to blog. Hmm...I like trying to write about things I'd surely forget if not for my desire to recount them online....

Oh! Ok.

So my extended family owned a beach house in a neighboring state & we vacationed there multiple times a summer. It was a cape cod style. When you'd walk up the living room stairs, the door would open to like a giant room with 6 beds (the door opened in the middle- there were 3 beds on 1 side, 3 on the other). It was more attractive than this sounds. There were bedrooms downstairs as well. My brothers and I (7, 9, & 12, respectively) slept upstairs. My entire family was at the house.

Older Brother ("B") & I were laying in our beds upstairs when all the sudden he said to me, "M. Look at the door knob [to the door that goes downstairs]." The ceiling had skylights, so it wasn't pitch dark or anything. I looked over at the door & thought I saw the door knob slowely moving back and forth- steadily, not erratically. He said, "Do you see that?" I told him I did, but I didn't believe my eyes so I got up for a closer look. I was about 1 foot away from the door & completely shocked that it was still moving side to side, as if someone was slowely turning it. B joined me. We just stood there watching it.

B said to me, "Open it. I bet it's Uncle J." My family isn't big on practical jokes (this side of the family is downright boring), but...this could be the only explanation. So, in the midst of this doorknob twisting, I opened the door and, dude, nobody was there. These were creeky, wooden steps-so even if someone would have the ability to fly like lightning down them, it would've been LOUD. I immediately went downstairs to assess the situation. My mom, step-dad, & aunt were watching TV quietly in the dark. Everyone else had gone to bed. I asked my mom if anyone had just been upstairs- she told me to go back to bed (somewhat angrily... I guess bc I was young & she assumed B & I were up to no good).

So there's my story. I actually just got off the phone w B to confirm that he still remembered the twisting doorknob. He does. We went over the facts again. We deduced that it would make no sense for a relative to twist the knob bc the adults would've assumed we were sleeping- and the twisting doorknob was silent. It wouldn't have woken us up. B can't believe he actually even noticed something as subtle as a moving doorknob across the room.

Remember MIL?

Well, I have to admit that since I birthed her granddaugther (daughter... is that how you spell it? Isn't that a weird word? All of the sudden it looks really foreign to me. And its spelled pretty crazy too... I feel like it should be spelled "dotter." Isn't it weird when that happens?) Anyway, since I fulfilled my New Year's resolution, my relations with my MIL have overall improved. I've tried to implement advice I've been given (smile & nod, agree, don't take it so personally & try to let it roll of your back, let her think she knows it all)- and it's been working- not without a few minor setbacks, though.

Breast report: Back to old size. Sometimes in the shower I see that they're leaking a bit. Oddly, this doesn't freak me out at all. They look like they did pre-preg, but perhaps a little less perky. I'm not sure, though, since it's been 10 mos. since I've seen my pre-preg boobs. And 2 wks ago I was sporting the perkiest DDs I've ever seen!

I've been wondering lately- if I don't do a lot around the house by day & I haven't been watching ALL that much TV.... where does the time go? I've developed a respect & admiration for the stay-at-home-mom. Because I am meeting needs (and not my own) & the needs are never ending. And- again- I have an EASY baby. It's nice to be in a place in life where there's nothing else I'd rather be doing- bc I can see how you'd be totally miserable otherwise. And if I were like, 19, & all my friends were out on bake rides, partying, and I hadn't gotten it out of my system, etc... I'd be MISERABLE. But, luckily, I'm old & boring & perfectly content caring for my grumpy little chicken nugget.

But, seriously, it's impossible to get anything done. Like sorting mail? Not gonna happen. Occasionally, I'll run the dishwasher. 99% of the emails I've written since Jan 14 have been typed with one hand. The idea of reading a book that isn't very short chapters or succinctly presenting me with "need to know" information (a la a parenting book) is laughable. Movies have even been challenging since my mind is constantly tuned in to what the baby is doing/needs. At any given moment- she's hungry, must be changed, bathed (THIS takes forever), burped, burped again, fed again, naps on my chest (immobilizing me.. bc if she doesn't get a good nap, she's a grump later), fed again, burped again, changed again, naps on chest for 10 minutes, wakes up, wants to eat more, cries a little- is she hungry still? need to be changed? bored? I also need to ensure she gets "tummy time" by day & I also constantly have to moisturize and lightly brush her little scalp to prevent cradle cap. I hear this all gets easier. And I'd like to add that I'm not complaining- just relaying my experience. I love her so much and I cherish the days I get to spend with her before I have to start working.

A fascinating event: Sunday morning- baby went to Target. The sweet smell of commerce. Now that I don't have a stomach the size of a beach ball, I'm stoked to buy inexpensive clothing with wreckless abandon. But I must remember that my day to day will soon involve me wearing suits in Corporate America... not running around school in my ripped jeans, t-shirts, hoodies & flip-flops- like it has since 2006.

Half a Baby Pic

There is my baby's nose & mouth. See the little light in her nose that reflects off of her nose mucus? I find that cute. It's love. Bc I probably wouldn't find it cute on just any old babe.

Editing, etc...

I just re-read my V-day blog entry & realized I confused "your" & "you're." My only defense is I have a 1 month old baby- it was a rushed post. But there really is no defense. And I'm not even gonna fix it.

Anyway, I spent the day w Jesus & her son (the one who had colic). His colic seems to have subsided. I realize just how lucky I am to have my baby. She is SO. FREAKING. GOOD. Thank you, God. (Disclaimer: I'm not specifically thanking God that I do not have a child like Jesus's child- just generally for my own good-natured baby. If I have another child, it'll probably be a hell raiser).

Now I'm sitting in between 2 dogs enjoying the moment. There are so few like this in a day (even with a good baby). Last night, J took the baby up for a bath. I told him I'd be up in 5 minutes. During that 5 minute period, I stood in the kitchen eating pretzels & staring into space. It was so peaceful. So peaceful, in fact, that I'm reminiscing on it almost 24 hrs later.

I'd also like to shout out to Johnny Weir. I love him. Love.

My Biopsy Results

This may come as a surprise to you- but it appears as though I am not dying of melanoma. At least not right now & at least not from the freckle I had removed. I feel like I dodged a bullet. I've clocked some serious hours at the tanning bed in my day. I was POSITIVE it was cancer. The amount of energy I spent worrying about those test results is sick. I cried to my mom & J about it. What a f*cking lunatic, right? Hopefully I will look back similarly on the amount of time I currently spend worrying about SIDS.

That said, I had J remove my stitches! Well, 1 out of the 2. During the attempted removal of the 2nd, I got light-headed & nauseous so I made him stop. We were snowed in during my dr. appt. The 2nd stitch is still in my body.

In other news, the baby threw up down my cleavage. She drank a lot of formula (whilst leaning up against my still-leaking boobs... although they're shrinking. I'll keep you posted on how different they look from pre-pregs). I burped her & TONS of chunky vomit flew into my shirt & puddled in my bra. She was fast asleep. I wiped her mouth, put her in her carrier & lugged her to the bathroom so I could shower- to keep an eye on her to make sure she was ok. I hopped in w my clothes on (it was that messy). She's still sleeping- my little vomiting angel. I sometimes feel guilty scooping expensive formula into a bottle with the knowledge that free food ("the perfect nutrition") is building up in my chest. Breast-feeding is cheap.

I also wanted to comment on the snow. I'm over it. But the thought of spring doesn't make me all that happy bc that's when the baby starts daycare. :(

2 Short Answers to Unasked Questions

Question 1: What would you like to ask God right now, M?
Answer: God, why is my baby regularly sleeping 4 hours straight during the day, but only 2-3 hours straight at night?

Question 2: If you could go to the store right now, what would you buy?
Answer: I would buy

• stamps to send out the rest of the birth announcements,
• bottled water,
• sexy underwear in preparation for Feb 26,
• grapes
• blank CDs
• a small iPod doc
• a few birthday cards
• more bottles
• August Burroughs' latest book (I think it involves Christmas stories)
• socks for J (& for me to steal)
• dog treats

But, my friends, the store is but a pipe dream. Our roads are still wretched from the blizzards &, truth be told, I still don't like the idea of the baby going anywhere... particularly with me behind the wheel. My nickname wasn't Cruella Deville for no reason. I'm a terrible driver. When people give me the finger, I don't even defend myself. I always deserve it.

And since the baby is still asleep beside me, I'm deciding to blog instead of shower. I may regret this later & this may be my only opportunity to shower. I could also do laundry, but... it's President's Day. I don't want to overdo it.

Valentine's Day-

I asked J if he hates V-day (bc I do). He said he does hate it. Good. Our 2nd Valentine's Day together, we were both in law school & there was a blizzard. But we decided we *really* wanted to go out to dinner anyway. We tried this new trendy restaurant in the downtown area of the city we used to live in. We didn't realize how bad the roads were until we were all dressed up and ready to go. Long story short: the restaurant was too trendy, cold & modern for our liking, the entire time we were panicked about how (and if) we were going to get home &, therefore, we drank less- which is always less fun.

Now we've definitely had some awesome V-day dinners since then. Last year, though, J wanted to try this popular BYO & couldn't get a reservation til like 10pm. I was STARVING & thus became inappropriately drunk too soon in the night. Hey- he had it coming!

Last night we made reservations for 5 (read: 2 adults, 1 baby, 2 hounds) in our kitchen. He ended up having to work from home, though, so he ended up eating at the computer & I ended up eating right behind him while trying to prevent a certain golden retriever from licking our daughter's face (I failed. Don't tell J). Romantic? Only as romantic as me telling J, 'You're present didn't come in the mail yet. Sorry. It's an antique gun powder tin.' I had ordered it online that morning.