Unplanned Parenthood

Some totally unrelated snippets

My normal commute is about an hour each way, sometimes longer in the evenings. Last night it took me 2 1/2 hours to get home. I will never understand the California Freak Out over rain. It's rain, it's not the apocalypse. In any case, I am forever grateful for the loveliness and distraction of the audio book. Right now I'm listening to Stephen King's 11-22-63 and it's totally engrossing. In typical Stephen King fashion it's loooong - like 35 hours long - and just when you think it might be dragging on just a little bit...BAM. Total suspense, a little gore and very graphic, very amazing storytelling.

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I hate talking about diet because a) it's boring and b) I so often have to start over because I fall off the wagon and c) I'm on a medication that makes it extremely difficult to lose weight, very easy to gain. The thing is: I love food. I love cooking, I love eating and I love the social & community aspect of it. The bad part is that I don't always make the best food choices. I'm kind of an immediate gratification person. If it sounds good at that moment, I'll make it and eat it. I was recently inspired by Andrea and though I don't have as much to lose, there was a lot that spoke to me. Specifically, "“Can you do it today, Andrea? Just today?” And I could. That question made each day manageable." So that's what I'm doing. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by the idea of spending the rest of my life subsisting on rabbit food, I've started asking myself if I can just do it today. And, surprisingly, the answer, so far, has been, "Yes." And I feel really good about that. This is likely a Duh Moment for most people, but I get overwhelmed and anxious easily. Which leads to throwing up my hands, stress eating and then self-loathing.

Next step: exercise. I love exercise, now I just have to, you know, do it.

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Jack is doing a little better. Still some meltdowns that are a little over the top, but I do have to remember that he's four. Meltdowns are still part of the regular course of life. I mean, what the hell? *I* have meltdowns on occasion and I'm 30 years older than him. I can hardly expect him to grow out of it any time soon.

He's doing well as he's faced with many changes in his life. He's doing really, really well. He's an incredibly resilient kid and for that I am eternally grateful. It will serve him well in life. We provide as much stability as we possibly can. We do our best and that's all we can do. Our very best.

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I'm getting better at this "one space after the end of a sentence" thing. When I was taught typing it was drilled into our heads that there are two spaces at the end of a sentence. This is apparently extremely outdated and I am very late to the game. It's hard to teach an old dog new tricks. And speaking of old...it's almost my birthday. Birthdays were a lot more exciting 15 years ago, but I do think my thirties are, so far, my favorite decade. Hopefully, it just keeps getting better as these decades continue to stack up. But, one day at a time, enjoy the journey and all that. And, for the first time maybe ever, I think I really am.

So, there.

Tears in My Coffee

My company offers free drinks. Not, you know, alcoholic drinks (although there's a fair amount of that brought out for celebrations) (we're a big tech company, it's like a college campus), but there is water, soda, tea, coffee and, most importantly, The Espresso Bars.

Bored? Grab a coffee! Need to get away from the computer? Hey! Let's go get coffee! Just got in? Don't mind if I do. Getting ready for a long drive home? Well, if you insist.

What I'm saying is: I'm very, very caffeinated. Which, given the time I get up every day, is not a huge surprise. The problem is this: I'm kind of bored at work. Antsy. Very, very antsy.

Antsy with nothing to do? Bored? Let's...well, it's a vicious cycle, is what I'm saying.

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Jack is going through a phase right now. Well, I don't know if it's a normal phase or if it's an adjustment period. He cries a lot. Big, crocodile tears. And it breaks my heart.

Last night we were making rice pilaf together and he went to pour in the spices (it was from a packet. God, I'm not that caffeinated.) and dropped them, spilling the packet on the floor. Cue the tears. Big, awful, heart-breakingly sorry tears. He kept telling me he was sorry and was it okay? Did I still love him? I'm so sorry, Mommy. I almost started crying with him. All he wants is to be held and given a lot of consolation.

We don't yell a lot, we're a very loving family and accidents are accidents. This has just come up in the last couple weeks and I don't know what's going on. All I can think to do is just console him, give him lots of love and hugs and kisses, and let him know that he's so, so loved. Mommy is right here, baby, I'm not going anywhere.

He's so physically big and he's funny and just so kid-like. It's easy to forget that he's still a little kid. He's trying to figure out how the world works, where the boundaries are. I've been doing this for four (and a half!) years and I know this stuff passes. I know it's just a phase and that things will change, adjust and reset. It's just hard to remember that sometimes. And, even if it's just a phase, it still breaks my heart.

That 2011 recap everyone's doing

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

Took a cruise, trekked across a glacier, faced (kind of) my fears on the face of a mountain, received my very own commissioned painting (my husband rocks)

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Let’s see…they were:

1.     Get exercise 4x a week. (I…tried? –ish?)

2.     Read 1 book per month from the Top 100 Novels of All Time list. (I read a ton. Not one of those books was from this list.)

3.     Take a photography class. (Success! It was awesome!)

4.     Reserve 1 morning per month for “Mommy and Jack” time. (I think I did this a few times, but not enough.)

5.     Have one date night per month. (Yes! But only because Randall was so good about scheduling them. So yes-ish.)

6.     Call each of my parents once a week. (No, but I was better at calling more often.)

7.     Call or see a friend once a week. (No, but I was better about being more social.)

8.     Take a honeymoon. (Yes!)

9.     Be as kind to myself as I am to others. (I really made some progress on this towards the end of the year, so I’m counting this as a yes.)

I’m working on my 2012 goals…more to come on that.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Our friends Mary and Justin had a baby girl and my sister-in-law had a baby boy

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Our dear friend, Christine.

5. What countries did you visit?

Canada!

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

Ugh, this is so cliché, but…time. I wish I didn’t have to leave before Jack gets up in the morning and I wish I could figure out how to make time to exercise regularly. I already get up at 5:30, so morning isn’t in the cards, lunchtime would mean I would have to work out and SHOWER with my co-workers, which is just…no, and Jack goes to bed at 8:30 and, sadly, I’m only a ½ hour behind him. It’s all a trade off, I know – I need to learn how to make priorities and focus on what’s important. Wait. What was the question? Oh. Right. Yeah, time.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

May 16 – started my new job; September 22 – when we left for our long-overdue honeymoon

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

I did make a job change, but I think my biggest accomplishment was understanding and doing what it takes to be a partner in running a household. I used to procrastinate everything, but I’ve realized how much peace it brings to just have stuff done. I mean, duh, but still. This is growth, people.

9. What was your biggest failure?

All the times I wasn’t the mom and/or wife I want to be. Randall has a saying, “Do the things the person you want to be would do.” I need to do that.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Aside from a pulled calf muscle that still haunts me, no.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Traded my stick-shift car for an automatic. Major levels of awesomeness for my two-hour-a-day commute.

12. Where did most of your money go?

Rent, pre-school, groceries, our Canada trip

13. What did you get really excited about?

Our honeymoon, Jack’s Second Santa celebration, making the first fire in our fireplace, successfully making a flag cake for Fourth of July, going to A’s games, watching Jack learn how to swim, making new friends, having one of my favorite people move 10 minutes away from me, camping at Pacific Valley

14. What song will always remind you of 2011?

Adele “Rolling in the Deep” and Matt and Kim “Daylight” and “Cameras”

Fine. Also, Selena Gomez’s “Love You Like a Love Song”

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:

· Richer or poorer: probably richer…by a miniscule amount

· Happier or sadder: HAPPIER in ALL CAPS

· Thinner or fatter: *la la la - I can’t hear you*

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Yoga (more? How about ANY), figured out how to play better with Jack instead of coupling it with laundry, dishes, and other distractions, writing on my blog, printing out pictures and putting them somewhere, keeping in better touch with friends and family

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Stand under the crush of anxiety about things I don’t have control over.

18. How did you spend Christmas?

Christmas was with Randall’s sister and her family and then with my grandma, aunt, uncle and cousin (who will have a baby this year – whee!) – all in Southern California. When Jack came back from his dad’s we did Second Santa.

19. What was your favorite TV program?

Mad Men (I watched a marathon of the first 4 seasons. Obsessed.), Survivor (Oh, shut up. It’s Randall’s fault.), Project Runway, The Office, Parenthood

20. What were your favorite books of the year?

OMG, where do I start? Hunger Games series, The Help, The Midwife’s Confession, Saving CeeCee Honeycutt, Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen, Bossypants, Cutting for Stone, Unbroken. The list goes on and on, really.

21. What was your favorite music from this year?

Matt & Kim, The Submarines, Adele, Lady Gaga, The Decemberists

22. What were your favorite films of the year?

The Help, Margin Call (depressing but good) and…I don’t know if I saw any other movies this year. How effing sad is that?

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 34, and we went for a hike and out to a great dinner

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

This was a great year of personal growth for me. I’m immeasurably excited about it and I can’t really think of anything on top of that.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

Ahahaha. NEXT QUESTION.

26. What kept you sane?

Randall, Jack, reading, and a lot of CBT

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011

Get. It. Done.

The number one rule of Fight Game is...

Every night before we wind down, Randall and Jack play Fight Game. It's basically this: Randall stands on one end of the bed and Jack runs from the other and they tackle each other. Lather, rinse, repeat. Add a side of tickling.

It is one of Jack's most favorite things in the world and they spend a good portion of dinner debating who will win Fight Game tonight. Jack usually pulls out, "Mommy wants ME to win Fight Game, right Mommy?" Who am I to argue? I tend to vote for the underdog, although, in all reality, Jack gets some pretty good tackles in there.

And, of course, we need a big, heaping side of Flying 4-Year Old:

It seriously is the best game ever. I need a voice recording of Jack's deep throaty laugh as they tackle, fall down, tickle and try to psych each other out.

I know I've been phoning it in with picture posts lately, but I promise something meatier soon. Promise.

Second Santa

Jack was with his dad this year for Christmas and, man, did we miss him and his little self. Four-and-a-half (do NOT forget the 1/2 part) seems like the perfect age for the magic of Christmas. We decided to do Second Santa at our house when he returned. We told him that Santa was making a special trip to Danville to bring his present and fill his stocking at our house.

And we made cookies and left carrots for the reindeer and Jack wrote his letter to Santa and, lo, he was excited:

And, gosh, we just had so much fun this year. This was the first year I think he really 'got it.' I'm not sure who was more anticipating "Christmas" morning more: him or us.

Sleepy head:

And, lo, we were all excited:

Man, we had fun. Super duper fun. And I can't wait for next year when, I hear, it gets even better.

People told me this parenting thing gets easier as they get older. I would NEVER say it's easy, but 4 1/2 is a darn good age.

Blowing my mind one inappropriate word at a time

Today I hung out with a very good friend, K, and her two-year old son, and it made me realize that my four-year old child is HUGE and TALKY.

We went to Nordstrom (she needed shoes! I needed a latte!) and I realized two other things: I can still understand toddler-speak (fist pump), and, also, a two-year old can still be picked up and carted out of a store  if needed (for clarification, his mom did, not me.) (Although I would have if she had asked me.  I still have the mad skillz to football-hold a toddler and march up a flight of stairs.  YES!  Our college degrees are officially put to good use.).  If my gigantic four-year old needed to be removed from a store it would have been a goddamn mini-Geneva-style negotiation and likely would have led me to giving in to things that the 25-year old, all-knowing me would have been horrified with.

One thing I have in my pocket, that I try not to over-use:  if I say I'm leaving and walk away, Jack still follows, albeit with a touch, just a touch, of high-pitched screaming, and also the distinct possiblity of him falling into a boneless pile on the floor.  (I will regret ever writing that sentence. From here on out Jack will disregard everything I say and turn around and walk the opposite direction.)  (God, I hope that second sentence cancels out the first and we just go back to him following me out of a store.)  I'm confused, too. Jack, please just follow me out of the fucking store and let's call it a deal.

My point is that I miss the two's.  THERE I SAID IT.  K wants to slap me as hard as I want to slap myself.

I think the biggest difference is that as my 98th percentile-child gets older, people tend to have different expectations.  My four-year old child looks like, and has the vocabulary of, a six-year old, and people (and I take my own responsibility here, too) tend to have the expectation that he act like a six-year old.  Sometimes I feel bad for him.  It's unfair to him.  But then, you know, life is unfair.  Most importantly, and what often makes me proud, is that he tends to rise to the occasion.

He pretty much blows my mind on a regular basis.

Well played, kid.  Well played.

It's very strange, for me, to live in a place where it doesn't rain for 5 or 6 months out of the year.  5 or 6 months IN A ROW.  No showers, no thunderstorms, no drops of water from the sky.

It has started raining today, a slight pitter-patter on the glass ceiling of our sun room (which currently houses our cupboard full of Costco-sized purchases of bottled water, "sparkly" water (Jack's words) and Gatorade), as well as all the pool toys stacked on a wire baker's rack.  Because we are FANCY WITH OUR SUN ROOM.) and it makes it peaceful in here.  Soon we will be able to use the firewood we purchased this summer to take full advantage of our fireplace.

 
 
It's very cozy in here these days.

I've been reading a lot.  I joined a book club and it's been fantastic.  Sure the meetings are two hours long and we talk about the book for a total of 15 minutes.  But THAT'S THE POINT.  Two hours with a group of adult women, eating delicious cinnamon rolls and talking shit about our children.  That's basically the definition of a book club, as far as I'm concerned.

Speaking of reading, I've learned that our library is participating in the borrowing of e-books.  I'm beyond excited about this.  I love my Kindle.  Loooooooove.  I also read very quickly and with the Kindle I currently have the option to just hit Menu and buy a new book when I'm done with the old.  It is very awesome and very dangerous.  Since I've had my Kindle (thanks, Dad!), it's pretty much all I read on and it's gotten to be (has been, will be) an expensive habit.  Except it's reading, so it's for educational purposes and therefore TOTALLY JUSTIFIED.  So, we (re)discovered the library a while back for books for Jack.  But guess what?  They carry books of ALL TYPES.  And you can borrow them for, like, 3 weeks.  FOR FREE.  Sorry about all those $12.99 books I bought, honey! Haha...ha...ha?  (And, *boom*, Randall's head explodes.)  So, needless to say, I'm exploring the world of the library.  Here I thought it was that quaint little place in my hometown where we had to use honest-to-god, paper ENCYCLOPEDIAS to do research for papers, but it turns out that the library is an awesome place to find fun stuff to read.  I kind of do a little search of the titles and, I'll be honest, the design on the front of the book, and say, "Hey! I'll try it! It's free!"  I've actually discovered some great books this way.

Here's what I've been reading, in no particular order:

The 44 Scotland Street Series

Rules of Civility

The Magician's Assistant

Rise and Shine

Needles and Pearls

Winter Sea (reading now and loving)

The Kitchen House (reading now and loving)

So, I've been trying to keep up with my reading addiction, knitting addiction and Survivor and Project Runway addictions.  And I think back to when I didn't have a child and I'm like, what the hell did I do with all that free time?

Up. And up and up and up. And then down. And then at Sea.

I'm not trying to make myself feel better.  I'm not trying to defend myself.  It really was billed to me as, and I QUOTE, "It's just a little walk across a glacier, and then...well, it's going up a bit, but basically if you can climb a ladder, you can do this."  Of course I can I climb a ladder!  Randall will LOVE to go for a hike on this long overdue honeymoon!

The drive from Vancouver to Whistler is absolutely gorgeous.  It reminds me a lot of Washington (which, duh.).  The trees stand tall and the rocks, majestic waterfalls and lakes are breathtaking, all standing tall and proud above the two lane highway.  We stopped for breakfast at McDonald's (Oh, shut up.  It was the only thing we found on the way up.) (Fine, shortly afterwards we found the Starbucks, the organic grocery store and the deli.  It was AFTER the McDonald's.  TOO LATE.)  (Also, did you know the US Dollar is worth less than the Candian Dollar?  I did not.  A scone and a latte at Starbucks was $7.40.  Which, when I was there 10 years ago (fine, 15) was the equivalent of $4.  Now it's actually like $7.50.  I clearly have no concept of "economy" and "current affairs.") (This is sad and also probably not going to change.).  Anyway, what?  McDonald's, beautiful scenery, etc.

We arrived at Whistler, found our recommended sandwiches and snacks and the gondola and rode up to the peak.  Where they gave us a fucking CLIMBING HARNESS.  Because guess what?  We were climbing up the face of Whistler.  Straight up.  Using a harness and a fancy-ass climbing system and our courage.  Which, guess what?  I had none.

We did a little hike crossways across a glacier (NO CRAMPONS) (was very hard) and came up to a ladder.  Actually it was two ladders roped together (jenky) leading up to a re-bar rung, the first in a series, glued into the side of a rock.

I cried.  Actually, I cried several times up the side of the mountain.  I said, including but not limited to, the following (some of them were said very, very loud):

I don't want to do this.

I can't do this.

I'm done.

This sucks.

I want out.

I'm tired.  I'm so fucking tired.

Randall, in his deep, deep wisdom (i.e. didn't know what else to do) did not say a word except mouthing to me, "I'm so sorry."

The guide ended up short roping me to him, which was simultaneously humiliating and so, so comforting.  And, also, I still cried.  I am not proud of this.

But, also, I made it.

I'm so much happier in this picture than I was on the way up.  I will not lie: I hated it all the way up.  The summit of the mountain was exhilarating.

Do you see that snow-covered glacier in the background?  That's what we WENT DOWN.  I went down on my ass.  The whole way.  In jeans.  With an ice ax.  It was cold.

After the super-glacier experience we took a cruise back to SF.  It was GLORIOUS.  Do you know what you have to do on a cruise?  Nothing.  The seas were a little rough to be reading, but we did go listen to a lecture on the Yukon Gold Rush, worked on a community puzzle, watched some football and went to dinners.  That's about it.  Aside from the lovely champagne.

It was a lovely, perfect and romantic vacation.  Even the hard parts.  Which, you know, JUST LIKE MARRIAGE.

Papier mache and dogs. Not necessarily together.

After yesterday's foray into staying home with Jack, I just want to give a HUGE shout out to all those stay-at-home and work-at-home-parents.  OMFG, was that the most exhausting day I've had in a long time.  Don't get me wrong, I survived it was awesome and fun and he absolutely cracked me up.

We're reading the I Can Read SpiderMan (oh, I'm sorry.  Spider-Man) books right now (which Sundry aptly called out on the CONTRACTIONS, for the love of Pete) and Jack re-enacted some of them for me at the park, including coercing me to drink the water from the park water feature as the potion that turned Lizard Man back into Dr. Curtis Conners (I know too much about SpiderMan. Ahem: Spider-Man); and he was super excited to make cupcakes (aside from the wholly unfair and approximate 100-year process of letting them cool); and, unfortunately, our first experience with papier mache and an attempt to make spiders was...unsuccessful.

Papier Mache with a 4-year old sounded like a good idea?  Really?  Really?

Part of the epic fail of this project is the fact that Jack has to wash his hands any time they are remotely sticky. Enter the flour/water papier mache glue that you apply with your hands. It was a less than statisfactory experience for everyone. Including the balloon.

P.S. Here's a tip for the wiener dog: it's a leaf blower. They're landscapers. I appreciate the NON-STOP BARKING for what it is: protection. Here's a little secret:  they come every Wednesday and have for the last 2 1/2 years that we've lived here. They will be here again next week. And the week after that. So, you've got that to look forward to.

All growed up

You may remember that my beautiful cousin and best friend, Vanessa, and I had our boys only about 3 weeks apart.  She and North came to visit me and Jack in Washington when the boys were about 7 months old and they looked like this:

"So, North, the square root of 21038098234098 can be figured out by dividing by 4 and carrying the 2."  "Jack, you're full of shit."

"What?  The oven mitt and lotion bottle on the living room floor make it avant guard.  It's called 'artistic license,' retards."

Just in case you're curious what happens when you blink and 4 years go by:

Jack preparing for college by honing his stealth skills of trying to see down the front of someone's shirt.  I'm just so proud.

"It is 100 degrees and you're making us sit still on a scratchy hay bale in our shorts for a goddamn picture.  We hate you."

Words just cannot describe how bizarre and lovely it is to see these pictures together.  Another blink and they'll be off to college, which, depending on the kind of day we're having, can be a blessing or a curse.  Some days I think, "Dude, I've totally got this.  He's amazing!  I'm amazing!  Bring on another baby!"  Some days I wonder why anyone would have children ever.  It mostly depends on whether he takes a nap.