Neighborhood Party

So I've been making huge strides (for me) when it comes to socializing with neighbors- please recall when we first moved in I would peak through my curtains, waiting for neighbors to walk inside before venturing out to my car.  Having 2 kids- including one that knocks on the window and screams our neighbors' names if she sees them- has helped me overcome this phobia.  Haha  Also, knowing that my babies are screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night waking up the people who live connected to us.  I mean, if we can hear them bang, they can probably hear my children screaming on the tops of their lungs.  Sometimes I pretend I'm living in a tenement building in NYC in the early 1900s and I like it.  Similarly, my in-laws live in a regular neighborhood with trees all around- so on their covered porch in the summer I like to pretend I'm living on the Jurassic Park island in a tree in the woods and there are dinosaurs below.  These are confessions.

ANYWAY, tonight there is a womens' neighborhood get together.  We got a flier 2 weeks back and then Monkey wandered away with it and it was never to be found.  Anyway, it's being thrown by my stripper secretary (member her?) - her sister!  Her sister lives down the street from me (which I probably detailed here).  When I see her sister, I get butterflies in my stomach because it reminds me so much of her.  Same voice, same face, same everything.  God, sisters are so cool.  I'm glad I gots me 2 little sister females.  So I'm super nervous about tonight because while I secretly love awkward get togethers like this... it could really suck.  I emailed the woman who lives next door (she is shy, her husband is not) and she quickly was like, 'Wanna go over together?'  Also, since Monkey lost the flier, I also lost the RSVP email addy.  So I emailed stripper secretary asking for her sister's email address and promptly emailed her sister.  Well, I never got a response.  I don't know that one was necessarily warranted, but I also don't know that I emailed the right address... so I'm scared!  I told my first mom-friend (Monkey's BFF Will's mom) about this - she lives in the neighborhood but not on my street- and she was intirgued.  This is all new territory!  But, I mean, I have a mom friend, a next door neighbor (who is also a mom but she is a lot nicer of a person than me because she is from the mid-west) friend and I'm going to a neighborhood party for women tonight.  I don't even recognize myself.  It's like when I got a text from TheBlind over the summer while I was pregnant and decorating H's room- she asked what was up and without skipping a beat I said I was "pressing curtains."  She was like, 'Who the eff are you?' 

In other news, I've been enjoying teaching Monkey tons of new stuff because she actually retains information and says a bunch of stuff.  So about 6-9 months ago, I started praying with her before bed and - whether you are atheist or a cynic or a Jew or a Muslim- to see a little 1 year old's hands together in prayer, listing all the people in her life- it melts the heart.  But I recently taught her the sign of the cross, as she will be entering Catholic School soon.  This kid took off with it- she LOVES the sign of the cross.  She makes the sign of the cross in the most awkward of places.  We'll be like at Target and my little nun-in-training starts making the sign of the cross.  The only thing that prevents people from thinking I'm some sort of looney toon is that shortly thereafter, she will point out people's boobies... and if she's close enough, touch them.  I think she takes after Aunt Sm*oddy.  I actually had to implement a new rule in the house: No touching other people's boo*bies.  It was one thing when it was just Hilly, but it's quite another when it's the lady in the check-out at Target.  J was like, 'by making it a rule, you are just reminding her that they are there.'  Umm... J, my love, if you spent as much time with her as I did, you would learn real fast that she isn't forgetting "about "boobies" any time soon.

J and I finished The Wire and are now deep into Friday Night Lights.  TX rules!!!  M, I wish I lived in Texas.  I would buy cowboy boots and a hat first thing.  And I would run like hell from creepy Buddy Garrity and immediately become friends with Coach Taylor's awesome wife and Matt Saronson's grandmother.  I'm only like 15 episodes in, but we love it so much that we're averaging 3-4 episodes a night.

Oh, also concerning the neighborhood party tonight, on the other side of me lives this awesome lesbian who adopted a girl from China.  Monkey loves her and her and her 8 year old daughter give Monk all these little gifts.  Usually, lesbians don't want to be my friend so I'm really hoping she likes me.  So I hope she is at this gathering tonight and that we find something to talk about. 

Since Sunday...

I've been debating on whether to write this post- yet another MIL bash.  I had thought, 'Ya know... you and J have a great relationship... maybe you should give his mom credit for raising him and not be such a biotch and focus on when she's not an a$$hole... even though those times are few and far between... be the bigger person.'  Then dinner this weekend happened and I shake what a fucking asshole she is.  I'm sure I'm being really sensitive but I can't figure out why I feel so threatened by this beast.... I usually get along really well with women my mom's age and older and even just women in general... I even got along with buttheads in the workplace in my younger years who I knew were nightmares (M*astri- remember Jax B*att? Haha) but we'd just laugh it off because they were harmless and we didn't care what they thought anyway.

So it all started on Friday MIL babysat Monkey while I took H with me to my final counseling session where we talked about how  much we love our golden retrievers most of the time.  Then we said our good-byes sadly (I think she will miss me too) and she told me to call if I started to feel crazy again.

I went to pick Monk up at MIL and MIL had given her this old stuffed bear she had laying around.  That night J came home and said, 'Is it okay if we go to my parents house for dinner Saturday night?'  I said sure.

Saturday night we arrive and they ask about the bear and I said she carried it around all day but Hannah (the golden retriever) kept snatching it so now we have to keep it in the playroom.  She got all huffy and said, 'Well I didn't GIVE it to Hannah.'  This caught me off guard.  I didn't say Hannah ruined it in any way - she didn't.  She just kept taking it.  And then I saved it by putting it in the gated off playroom.  So why the attitude?  To be honest, I wanted to punch her in the fucking face.  I felt where this dinner was going.  In fact, I have half a mind to take a scissors to that bear right now, photograph it and email her a picture of it saying "Hannah thanks you for the delicious teddy bear."

Alright, this blog is going to be quicker than I thought bc Hilly is freaking the eff out next to me.  She had 4 vaccines yesterday so she's not feeling particularly patient today.  Little does she know what an asshole her grandma is.

So over dinner she managed to criticize people who never went to college, people who were overweight, people who fed their kids junk food (ahem... she used to give J an endless supply of regular Coke.  I don't give 2 craps if she gave him an endless supply of lard- I'm just pointing out the hypocrisy), people who choose to be hairdressers (also ahem.. she suffers from alop*ecia and has relied heavily on her stylist for years to cover her bald spots and my cousin is a stylist and she's hot, cool and happy so wtf do we care how she brings in her income? she's bringing in more than I am these days, that's for damn sure.) and there was another... oh, addicts (the particular addict that she was criticizing suffered repeated molestation as a child so.. I mean give a guy a break?)  She's just generally a jerk.  Throughout this conversation J kept saying, "Mom. That is so mean.  There is nothing wrong with that occupation.  As long as they are happy, why do you care? Why are you making comments like this?"  It was an atrocious display of intolerance.

We were also talking about labor and I mentioned that I had come so quickly that my mom didn't have time for an epidural.  She said, 'Well I don't think it would hurt that bad without one...' Really?  Because I had one and when that started to wear off I almost fucking sliced my uterus open and pulled the baby out myself- because I thought performing surgery on myself would hurt less than the pending contraction.  I'd also like to add she never gave birth naturally and she hasn't given birth in 33 years.... so I'm a little fucking confused about where her intimate knowledge regarding pain of natural childbirth is coming from.

Alright, before I write her a vicious email, I have to stop venting.  I hate her, guys.

V-day

2 posts in 2 days?  I am on a roll.

I feel compelled to post that I find Valentine's Day annoying at this point in my life.  I get it when you are dating and in love because, as with all holidays, it can be a gauge as to what extent your feelings are reciprocated.  For example, my first Vday with J, he got me.... a duvet cover and a S*x Feet Under book.  The book? Score.  The duvet cover?  Let's just say I don't think he was all that into me.  Fear not, loyal readers, he made up for his early transgressions.  This year I asked him to please not spend our money on jewelry or a flower delivery.  If I were working and hated my job, I would expect flowers in some capacity.  But I am not and we need a new car this summer.  Besides, if I wanted a nice piece of jewelry, I would dip into our joint bank account and buy it myself.

Last night was true romance and it was not sexual in any way:  HE DID ALL THE NIGHTTIME FEEDINGS.  Nothing makes me want to say "I do" again quite like this.  Guys, I have slept through the night like 4x in 6 months.  Even more since at 9 months pregnant, you don't get to sleep through the night courtesy of your bladder.

The greatest gifts would be the following: If he could somehow rob a bank and get us a lot of money.  If he gave me full naming rights to our next child (if it ever exists).  If he would do all the housework and all the nighttime feedings for the rest of our lives (not fair to him, but a girl can dream).  If he could have magic powers that would transform my post-partum sagging boobs into an awesome rack.

These things cannot be purchased at Target, Saks, or any high end jewelry store.

Google Stalking

Here are a few updates:

• See this diva? *Somebody* has a temper.  Hilly is happy as a clam in her jumparoo for hours....until she isn't.  Then she screams as loud as she can until you remedy the situation.  She's lucky she's such a knock-out, this one!  I suspect this is a good quality for a younger sister.  She was sleeping through the night and then regressed and now gets up 2x to eat.  I'm on autopilot in the middle of the night- exhausted.  I grab her (she's still in our room) feed her and then all the sudden I wake up and panic: Where is she?  Turns out, I've finished feeding her, changed & re-swaddled her and put her bad to sleep all without realizing it.  This freaks me out every time.  Anyway, she turns 6 months this month and it blows my mind. 
• I am going to ramble now.  You may want to move along to the next blog:
• My friend TheBlind (who now has a big time job as a pros*ecutor, so I'd like to send a shout out of congratulations) told me that this girl we went to elementary school with was caught shoplifting at Walmart recently.  Her family was fresh off the boat from Tawain (sp? I know... I really should look this one up, but.. whatever) and she had a younger brother and sister. I became best friends with her in 2nd grade and we were friends until like 4th grade.  She even went on vacation with my family (to our family beach house).  I remember she brought my great grandmother a canister of Nestle quick as a thank you gift.  I thought it was so freaking weird and hilarious.  But in retrospect, I find it very sweet.  For starters, it's great that her family let her come along.  If we picked up and moved to Asia, I wouldn't let my girls out of my sight- I barely let them out of my sight here!  I know they are 6 months and 2 years and I will probably feel differently when they are 8, but still.  And then they sent her along with a gift to show gratitude that they thought the kids would enjoy, as there were 6 of us in total. Both of my brothers brought a friend.  So while I did not outwardly mock her for bringing it and she was my best friend at the time, I wish my mom would've sat me down and explained to me that it was actually a very sweet gesture.  
• Anyway, I remember a lot of unusual things about the family- I spent a TON of time there.  They had barrels of clothing.  Seemingly random clothing.  After dinner her mom put like the top of an umbrella over the food.  They ate tofu (this is where I learned to like tofu and dumplings).  I celebrated the chinese New Year at some local hall and it went late into the night and I was bored.  I went to some weird foreign film with them and was bored out of my mind.  They would buy like 4 or 5 of the same toy if it was on sale. Her dad would make her read bits of an Encyclopedia every day during the summer, which I thought SUCKED, but as a parent, I get- especially as the encyclopedia was in English and she was first generation here in the U.S.  One time I was at their house and I had a headache and her mom rubbed some sort of minty oil on my forehead and it made my headache go away.  As a college aged binge drinker, you can imagine how often I've dreamed of this magical oil.  Her parents spoke very broken English and not much of it.  Ste*phanie (my friend) did a great deal of translating and also taught me a lot of words in Tawainese.  For some reason, they got video games before they were out here.  So I was playing the Chinese version of Mario 3 well before it was released in the US.  I also remember we weren't all that nice to her siblings all the time, but I loved her little brother because he was a toddler and really cute and I was 8 or so and I feel like little girls always love babies and toddlers. 
• Around 4th grade... maybe 5th? but I think 4th, we grew apart.  I would occasionally see her in the bathroom at school- she spent a lot of time in there- and she would always ask me about my cat and my great-grandmother.  I feel like I could've been nicer to her but I didn't realize until I got older that she probably didn't have many friends.  Maybe she did, though, and I just didn't know better.  Even in high school, she would ask me about my great-grandmother and my cat and she was really sad when I told her my great grandma had died. She always had a very odd body shape too.  I know you're going to think I'm a real a$$hole for bringing this up, but it was like boxy.  Not heavy or too thin but almost as if she wore a box under her clothing.  TheBl*nd, do you remember this?  Did it incite your curiosity as well? I never made fun of her or anything, I just noticed it and was confused.
• When TheBl*nd texted me with the news that she was in our town's crime blotter I took about an hour, neglected my husband and children and Google stalked her entire family.  I could find virtually nothing on her and it frustrated me- no idea on where or if she attended college, no evidence of social networking.  It looks like she dabbles in real estate- but no picture or real online activity.  Her little brother is this gay, tech-savy student with a ton of personality at one of my old undergraduate universities.  Her little sister went to another huge university in my home state and did a lot of speaking on issues that Asian-Americans deal with and is also very religious. And I found this long article on her mom which made me realize just how much I either underestimated her as a child because she didn't speak English or simply never thought about her (probably the latter) because I was a kid.  The article said how before they moved to the US, she was an elementary school teacher, but after they moved for her husband's job, she stayed home with the children.  Every night she would peruse this Chinese newspaper looking for a job that would enable her to work from home (which I totally relate to).  She found this ad looking for a reporter, was hired for her energy and started writing cool stories about the experience of Chinese people over here in the US.  For example, I think a bus load of illegals or something was "captured" or whatever and she went to the prison and interviewed those that were on the bus.  I guess she ended up opening this Chinese grocery store in my hometown and got to know many local Chinese people that way.  In the article she said that when she has a story in the works, she won't sleep for like days at a time because she can't stop thinking about it- "almost like when you are pregnant."  I had no idea she was such a cool lady and I was kind of blown away by how much is truly lost in translation.  I also envy her passion for this writing career that she developed (she only makes like $300/mo or something, so she's not in it for the money, but isn't it just a cool development for her?).  If I understood Chinese I would read every article.
• Suffice it to say, I'm tempted to sit outside their house with binoculars to catch a glimpse of St*ephanie.  I want to know more.  But the beauty of my childhood neighborhood is that it is deep in the heart of suburbia and there would be nowhere to hide.  Sometimes when we pull up to my mom's house and there are lawns and wide roads with little traffic and houses with the windows open and you can see the old lady wallpaper in the room, I'm tempted to move right back.  There are garages and spacious yards along a golf course.  But I don't like the idea of my kids graduating with a class of like 700 students- geez, maybe this is why I have no clue what happened to her in high school.  Those numbers are kind of f*cked up.  But I like the spacious neighborhoods. 

Out of Practice

Yikers.  I feel like I'm out of practice.

So anyway, today I went to the bank to set up these college accounts for my offspring (it's like a 401K but for college).  I had a meeting to do this in August 2010, but work continuously kept getting in the way.  Now that WORK is out of the way, college account time, 'tis.  I needed Monkey's SS# and the actual card is in our safe deposit box (or is it safety deposit box?  J opened it and gave me a key and then I lost the key but haven't told J yet.)  So he has the number in his wallet like secretly coded with different letters in it and stuff.  He refused to give me the effing number over text or email.  Dude.  So anyway, I got the number, grabbed Hilly's SS card and was on my way.


The point of this story is that I left the bank with the scaries.  The bank lady and I had a 1 hour child-focused conversation:  I know her kids ages, names, her dog's breed, her husband's height, her kids school, pediatrician, physical builds, personalities, where she lives and where she's from, etc.. And she knows mine.  Like... is that supposed to happen?  Or did I just waste her day?  Does she get a commission from me managing the accounts through her?  I wish there was a manual on this stuff.  I even know that when her oldest daughter (now 10) was a toddler she grabbed their dog's balls under the dining room table.  When I saw that it was 11:30pm in my car as I left, I was wracked with shame and guilt and a feeling of "I am never going back there, despite my appointment with her next Wed at 10AM."  Crap.  But I really liked her and I wish we were neighbors.

If you are still reading, then I might as well reward you with a MIL story.   I can feel your future smiles through my computer screen.

Honestly, she's been alright lately.  And I think that's because we haven't seen them for extended time periods recently.  But, fear not, she has managed to reveal her d-bag ways through random comments here and there.

I've become good at just ignoring her comments, smiling and nodding.  Now that I'm psychologically medicated, I feel generally more relaxed.  Her reaction to my smiles and nods has been interesting.  For example, I asked her to watch Hilly while I took Monk to her doctor appointment.  She was walking me upstairs to show me where Hilly napped and said that she gets nervous laying her down because she fears Hill will burp and then inhale her spit up.  I said as we walked up the stairs, "I understand."  She then said, "Because you always want to make sure you turn them on their side when that happens."  We were still walking and I didn't respond because I really didn't think there was anything to respond to.  She stopped walking, looked at me and said, "Right?"  I was taken aback and quickly responded, "Oh.. yes."

Similarly, I was feeding H at Monk's bday party last Saturday and she said, "I have trouble getting a burp out of her."  I said jokingly, "Yeah, you never know with this one."  She responded, "But you should always try to get a burp mid-bottle, though."  I didn't say anything because her statement was (a) wrong and (b) annoying.   She then looked at me and said, "Right?"  I surrendered and said, "Oh, yes."  And then made eyes at my mom that said, "Do you hear this crazy b*tch?"

She also made a comment to my mom and gma, "I never say anything because I'm just the mother-in-law."  HA!!!!  Must be nice to have such a selective memory.

Now there is a ton I don't know about babies.  Like, I don't really know what wheezing sounds like and I don't know at what age you truly need to socialize your kids (aside: Isn't the concern that your kid isn't properly socialized truly only the concern of those in a wealthy country? I mean, I'm sure we all look at our bank accounts and debts and think we're poor as crap.. but like, I feel like in third world countries they're like, 'I hope I don't have AIDS.' or 'I hope I got babies vaccinated before they contracted malaria.' or 'If only we had our own private bathroom instead of having to use a community latrine or the woods.... my baby would be more healthy.')  I digress.  I ain't no baby expert.  But... I feel like MIL is either an idiot or offensive.  Considering I give H 99.9999% of her bottles and always have, who do you think knows when H needs a burp or what happens when H doesn't burp or what it's like to be thrown up on by the H-monster?  I'm going to go with......me.  Also, I may have only been a mother for 2 years and 2 weeks... but if she is just now wondering if I know what to do when a baby is vomiting, she is a bigger f*cking idiot than I thought.  I have been thrown up on a million times.  In fact, I have spent the better part of 2010 and 2011 (and 2012) with some form of vomit on my clothing.  Basic vomiting procedures?  I know 'em.  Next time I'm going to quiz her:  Approximately how long do you wait to feed a baby that's just thrown up?  What do you feed them?  What are signs of dehydration in a baby? When is it time to call the doctor?  I bet she'd have no clue (which is sad because she is always trying to school me.).

Otherwise, though, the smile and nod and ignore method works great.

For those who haven't had the luxury of meeting my MIL, did you know that she has a faux-British accent?  And she sings vibrato as she cooks?  It is so, so uncomfortable.  I always say to J, "What does she want us to do when she sings?"  He said, "Nothing.  Just ignore it like we always do."  But it's like really awkward.  Really, really awkward.

First of All

For starters, thank you for the diagnosis and support!  I absolutely had Hand Foot Mouth.  I thought it was only a children's disease.  Hilly & I both have terrible colds, but it is nothing compared to having hives on my feet.  And since I invested in Nyquil while suffering with HFM, I was well-prepared for this cold.  I've been sleeping like a baby... except when I've been waking up with a baby... which is a couple times a night, but, alas, I digress.

For Monkey's 2nd Bday, I made the above cake.  It took me forever, but I felt satisfied with the result.  It was my first experience not working with a mold.  We just had a small family party- nothing crazy. 

Hilly is crying.  I will post in a bit. But I wanted to write at least something.

The Return

Long story short: I will not be returning to my job.

I have a million thoughts.  I want to control everything - most of it out of my control.  Like.. I want to go back and get a career where going part-time can happen.  How long I will stay home - what will happen? What will it be like in summer? When Hilly is older? Should I pack my work clothes? But mostly I just feel relieved  I don't have to go back to that terrible place and I'm thankful I can finally be with my babies more than 2-3 hours a day.  I don't feel guilty giving time outs, I don't feel guilty during tantrums.  It feels like a million pounds lifted and I'm super happy.  My mom and MIL piss me off by suggesting all these types of law that I would like and blah blah blah- and it is still a secret from my Grandma- but I just want everyone to shut up (in a nice way).  Luckily, J has been really supportive and also feels relief.  I think he likes not living in the pig sty we were living in when we both were la*wyers.

ANYWAY,  Hilly is still sleeping in our room and as she's almost 5 months that should probably change.. but her room has morphed into a place for boxes and Good Will donations. So I have some serious recycling to do today which blows. 

In other news I caught some crazy virus from the 2 year old pictured above that resulted in hives everywhere, including the palms of my hands and the soles of my feet.  So Hilly was sleeping through the night as I was plodding downstairs at 2AM desperately seeking an antihistamine in our cabinets, only to find Dayquil (antihistamine-free). 

Alright, I have to give a certain someone a bottle and then start tidying up before I decide that another nap is in order.  I still have hives on my feet, but they are worse at night.  Why is that?