Since this is my blog, about my life and what’s going on in my head I thought I’d explain that the absence of posts for the last… forever… has been due to the fact that there is absolutely nothing in my head.
Nothing at all.
Not tumbleweeds, or crickets, or anything that could be mistaken for a humorous substitute for original thought. It would require too much effort and I just haven’t been willing. My entire school break was spent doing nothing at all. I spent time with my kid, but mostly I spent it staying up till 4am and watching Gilmore Girls episodes. I didn’t really watch that show a lot when it was on, but now I gotta say, Lorelai – string of boyfriends = makes me miss my mom.
I think I’ve been bummed. Depressed, but not in the clinical sense, just in the sense that sometimes people get in that mood.. that depressy mood. Anyway, the whole time that I was (am?) in that funk I knew I was in it, but I didn’t get out. I was equal parts unwilling and unable. Mostly unwilling. I felt like I should take some time to do nothing, because I totally and completely killed myself last semester and got amazing grades. I even skipped the gym for almost three straight weeks so I could study while Styx was asleep, and it was my last month of gym membership. I will miss the gym.
I know lack of gym time also contributed to my December blues.
Now, tomorrow, I am starting my new semester. I’m out of the funk as soon as I have something to do. This is why I would be a horrible stay at home mother. This is why I was a horrible stay at home mother for those 4.5 months. Urgh. Now I have to go to bed because I have a completely non-optional class at 8am and it’s taught by a guy who can’t even keep himself awake. I’m guessing some more killing myself is ahead of me…
Stuff like this does not exist in my family, at least not to my knowledge. This is the ONLY problem with being born to minimalist, globe-trotting, anti-pack rat parents. Nothing survives long enough to be handed down to your grandchildren, or even to your youngest sibling, really.
David’s family is the polar opposite. They still have their first blender (even though it doesn’t work), and one of the chairs that my father in law’s parents bought for 39 cents when they were first married about a century ago… and a whole bunch of other stuff that didn’t need to be saved. (Hmmm… we actually use that chair, so nevermind…)
However, once in a while, I come across something they’ve saved and I love it. I love that they saved it and I love that I get to be a part of its history. In this case, they’ve saved a little play kitchen. It’s a two piece set, with a cupboard and a stove/oven with a little door underneath. The stove actually has little red lights under each burner that you can turn on with the knobs in front. How cool is that?! Both are handmade, the cupboard piece by David’s grandfather for his daughter and the stove part was made by David’s father for his sister. And now Styx gets it!
I’m really excited about it. It needs some love and sanding and repainting before it’s ready to be used by a small child again, but we’re working on it. I want to keep the original look even though it’s not my favorite. It’s all white with red hardware, which we’re replacing because it’s a little chipped and broken, and it’s very plain. I still want to keep the same look to it, but we might add something else. I love that we get something with a story. I love that my kid will be playing with an already well-loved toy and we would like to add another piece to it, because this one I will save.
Then a bonus surprise: I opened the cupboard and it was full. of. tiny. little. vintage. kitchen. stuff. (I had to type that slow because I still can’t believe it). Cups made of tin, things painted with little tiny dots, pots and pans, even tiny serving dishes. According to my father in law, they are the ones his sister played with which makes them over 50 years old. Jackpot! Triple jackpot!! Gazillion-quadrillion jackpot. A lot of the stuff is missing but it’s all still amazing.
I’m excited.
Styx hasn’t seen it yet or we wouldn’t have been able to pry her away from it, kitchens are her current favorite thing in the world and I know she will love it.
Well, little Cookie surprised us all, most of all her parents who were 100% she was a boy and had a very nice name picked out for him. It’s actually a name that I considered for Styx if she had been a boy, but I would have no problem with them using it.
Cookie is a GIRL! Now she has no name, they haven’t even entertained the thought that she might be a girl. Haha!! Same thing happened with Nephew except for the other way around, of course. Anyway, I’m getting a little niece sometime in late April-early May.
I have to say I am so excited that I will get a little tiny baby girl sooner than I expected!!
I told a few people I was cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year and they asked me if I was worried/nervous/afraid. I said no/no/no. Food is food, I don’t get the “pressure” of cooking for Thanksgiving. Maybe it’s for people who don’t usually cook?
Anyway, David, Styx and I went to his brother’s brand-new house in Midway for Thanksgiving. We stayed there two days, because it’s fun to have sleepovers with my sister in law and above all, it’s super fun when Styx doesn’t sleep for 48 hrs.
I was in charge of dinner, despite the fact that I have never cooked a turkey in my life and I have attended a total of five Thanksgivings, one for each year of marriage plus the one when I was engaged. I am not American (because I haven’t beat that to death on this blog) so I have no attachment to Thanksgiving whatsoever. You get time off work, so it’s nice.
Anyway, I made dinner and it was pretty fantastic, if I may say so myself. I did make a turkey and I did taste some of it because what kind of a cook doesn’t taste her own food? It was delicious as turkeys go, but it was still turkey so a taste was all I had, especially after having to “handle” its dead body while preparing it.
I made stuffing, which was awesome. I made three pies, apple, triple berry and pumpkin. I made the crust from scratch, too. I made a green bean dish with a sauce that was much too heavy and I would never make outside of holiday indulgent menus. I outsourced the mashed potatoes to my sister in law, and we made a cranberry dessert together. It was pretty darn good.
My brother in law was coerced into buying a twenty-two pound turkey for five adults and three kids. (Pretty sure the meat guy at the market works on commission). We ate less than 1/5 of it, and the rest is in plastic baggies in their freezer.
The day after, Sis in Law and I went shopping and we bought very little but we bonded a lot. I love her. David and Styx came home and slept most of the weekend, to make up for staying up late and eating a lot more than they should. Me? I find that when you’re cooking all day your appetite is whetted by the smell of the food. I really liked cooking, it’s been a long time since I’ve had the time to put together a feast!
David told everyone at the table that next year we will have bought a house and they will all be invited for Thanksgiving. I’m not so concerned about having four people over for dinner as much as I am for the whole buying a house thing. Oh well, I’m actually really looking forward to moving, getting a dining room and inviting people over.
I would rate Thanksgiving as a success. Going back to school was rough this week.
Today I had a project folder to turn in, but I didn’t make it to class. Let’s clarify that I didn’t make it to class because I was working on the folder at the last minute. I thought it was ready, but in the morning as I was leaving I realized that I’d forgotten one key component and I had to stay home and do it.
I knew my professor taught another class right after mine so I planned to just go at the end of class. David announced he had to go help with a set up at the church (there is always something for him to set up or take down) and it became evident that I would have to take Styx with me to school to turn in the project.
David and I call this particular teacher the baby hater because even though the school has a well publicized “children welcome in classrooms and testing center and library and everywhere” policy, he tells everyone he does not like children in his classroom. Guess what. The baby hater loooooves babies. He was so taken by her, I didn’t think he heard a word I said. He took my folder, he smiled stupidly at the baby and then she handed him the stuffed pig she was carrying. Man, she played her part well. She laughed, she said bye bye, and the she said please when she wanted the pig back.
As I was leaving he called out “I hope you all feel better soon”… even though I never said we’d been sick, and we’re not. He really did not hear a word I was saying…
The question is, do I use this newfound power to fight crime or for evil?
My tiny little baby is out of her crib. It’s so sad, and most inconvenient, really. But she is Harry Houdini reincarnate, so it’s really surprising she made it this far. She was weaseling out of the stroller straps at eight months, laughing in the faces of the Safety 1st baby proofing stuff by 11 months and opening all manner of containers and trunks, even those with latches, at 14 months. She can now successfully climb out of her crib and fall to her death. By some heavenly intervention she still can’t mess with the straps on the car seat, although it’s not for lack of trying.
We decided that it was time to take off the side of the crib so she can… well, not fall to her death every day. This also necessitated a change of bedrooms, which is unfortunate for me. Her new room is the only room in the house that’s finished, and therefore safest for her, and the room that was my room when I woke up this morning. So sad. I just lost my new bedroom to a baby.
The change is temporary, as soon as the next bedroom is ready she will be moving in there, this time permanently. She’s had a hard time staying in bed, which we anticipated, so tonight she didn’t go to sleep until about 11pm. She should be a zombie tomorrow.
We decided to put a gate in the doorway, because I am not willing to have her sleeping in a room by herself with the door closed but I also don’t think it’s a good idea for her to take a midnight stroll through the house. We’ll see how the first night goes.
Also, the crib people (per the instructions) say that babies are unable to get out of it until they are 35 inches tall and she is 33 inches. I want some justice here.
My hair is at that stage where I don’t know what to do with it. I’m growing it out but only because I can’t think of anything else to do with it, and that’s the default. I haven’t worn my hair out of a bun/pony tail for months. Months I tell you. What’s the point of having long hair if it’s always hidden?
I don’t know what to do. I used to have really long hair and I liked it, but it’s high maintenance. I have little time and enthusiasm for taking care of hair.
I used to have chin-length hair and I really liked it, but it’s high maintenance. I have little time and enthusiasm for taking care for hair.
I used to have red hair, black hair, hair with blue and purple streaks in it. I used to have green hair and strawberry blond, and darker brown hair. Now it’s just my hair, which hasn’t been colored in three years because I just don’t know what’s next. (One thing’s for sure, I am not a blonde.)
I don’t know how to cut it, or color it, so it just sits there. If I were pregnant the answer would be easy. Cut it short, so it doesn’t get in the way when I vomit. (Sad, but true.) If I had money the answer would be lots of layers and highlights. If I had time it would be grow it out, wear it wavy, flowing and beautiful.
I have to make a decision re: my hair soon, I’ve been postponing it for so long. I gave myself a deadline. Nov 10, aka my birthday. I should make an appointment with *Cecile for that day to make it more official. I should call Cecile and tell her that if I haven’t made a decision she needs to make it for me.
For my birthday I also want Chinese food and boots. It’s pretty safe to say that I will want those same things for my birthday for as long as I live.
*Cecile is my no-nonsense, incredible, talented, understanding stylist who’s been doing my hair since the tender age of 17 and therefore knows it better than I do. She’s never dissapointed me, even though I cheated on her twice. Never again, I’ve learned my lesson.
I’m tired of writing things like ” I did this and that and I have pictures so I won’t post about it until later, but it’s coming”. Or “Mom I will take pictures of Styx’s Halloween costume and send them to you asap”. Or even “I will clean the bathroom today”…. and then it doesn’t happen.
Like Styx’s Fall wardrobe that I put together with $30. It’s cute, it’s great, I haven’t posted about it yet. Why? I can probably blame school. But mostly I think I could’ve found the time to do it, though I couldn’t tell you when. This would be an easy time to say “but I’ll do it soon” but I won’t. In fact, I’m going to take back all those promises, all the times I said I would post something soon. Take them all back. Now.
I am busy and worried (though I should be less so, there isn’t that much to worry about). I am looking for a job, David is looking for a job. We’re trying to figure out the schedule for next semester and how to pay for childcare when you have no income? I’m also wrestling with the decision to become a U.S. citizen or not, which I’ve made into a hugely personal issue rather than just a piece of paper that will make my life easier. (And here, where I could easily promise another post solely about that, I do no such thing.) I haven’t been grocery shopping in a long time and our fridge is stocked with David’s choices, which is lamentable and weighs on my mind.
I still haven’t finished sewing Styx’s blue corduroy dress, and I’m afraid that by the time I do she will be too tall for it. I am feeling inadequate because usually, when things get complicated, that’s when I swoop in and fix everything. Now things have been ‘complicated’ for a month and there’s been no swoop. Why can’t I swoop?
I make no more promises. I’m having a hard time keeping the ones I can’t take back and I can’t afford to have many more outstanding ones. My head is full of to-dos and thoughts and ideas and I can’t find the time to do, write, sell, paint, create. Each one is like a credit in the imaginary T account in my brain. Right now I’m in the red.
Well, I have no trouble with them.
But David doesn’t like them any more. He thinks they are problematic, because Styx has been taking them off. Of course, she has been able to do that for a while but now she is also able to take off her clothes to gain access to the diaper. She can’t take off the disposable diapers, so David has started using those again. He wants me to do it, too.
I decided to explore why she wants to take the diapers off in the first place. My theory is that they are uncomfortable, so I put her in the tiniest panties in the whole wide world. Seriously, these things are ridiculously small. I can’t even believe it. AND they’re a bit baggy on her. Anyway, I put her in the panties and told her that when she wanted to go potty, she should let me know.
She kept the panties on. And she wet them, eventually, which I had anticipated. But she never once tried to take them off. In fact, when I tried to put her back in a diaper at nap time she cried and screamed and tried to pull it off. My “diapers are uncomfortable” theory hasn’t been proved wrong yet.
So we’re working on the potty training with more traditional methods now and we’ve now instituted the treat. Every time she goes to the potty she gets a gummy bear, which I guess is supposed to be a no-no for 18-month olds, but she loves them and she’s never once had trouble with them.
Yesterday she said “potty” and did the sign and David was so excited he came to get me first, and was therefore too slow in getting her to the bathroom… so she didn’t make it. But hey! She did it! She said potty before going! We gave her a gummy bear anyway and we made a big deal out of it. She’s getting close.
Anyway, I told David I am not willing to go back to disposable diapers, but I am willing to potty train the kid. He’s OK with my idea. We’re skipping the diapers again tomorrow…
There must be something about me that attracts black men. I was hit on by a very attractive black man today at the school library. He’s not the first. He’s not even the first this month (he’s the second one). He was very nice, even after I told him I was married. Then he asked me why I wasn’t wearing a ring…
I haven’t worn my wedding ring in years. It gets in the way, it’s annoying and I wash my hands constantly so I’m taking it off all the time because I hate the feeling of soap and water underneath it. It’s easier to just leave it off all the time. But this guy jokingly suggested that I should wear it or get one that wasn’t uncomfortable. Then it turned out he was taking a class I took last year and we talked about it for a little while. He was nice and funny and I would’ve given him my number if I’d met him 5.5 years ago.
It occurred to me that all those guys probably think I’m lying and had no interest in them, since I have no ring. I’m guessing I will probably start wearing the darn thing just because I don’t want to look like a liar, nor do I want to waste someone’s valuable finding a girlfriend time.
Three observations:
1- Even though this has happened many times before, this is the first time someone mentioned the lack of ring and this is the first time it occurred to me that a ring would stop this.
2- The ratio of black men to white men who have hit on me over my lifetime is ridiculous, especially given the ratio of black men to white men in the general Utah population.
3- By the time I actually locate the ring I will have forgotten all about this.
And a fourth:
I told my husband and he laughed and said “poor guy” . I love that he’s not stupid and possessive.
